Session 10: The Sky Market

The Green Light

We emerged from the depths beneath Sharn, still covered in dust from the Dhakaani ruins. Rook met us at Tavick's Landing with a rare smile on his weathered face.

"The Emerald Enclave has been watching. You've done what others could not—stabilized the anchor without destroying it. Without destroying yourselves."

As he spoke, something changed across the city. The Everbright lanterns that line Sharn's towers—usually burning their steady white—shifted to emerald green. One by one, district by district, until the entire city glowed like a forest of jade fireflies.

"The green light," Rook said, looking up. "The Enclave signals its gratitude. Come. There's something you should see."

Thalen's Well

Rook led us through winding paths to Verdant Hollow, a hidden grove nestled impossibly between Sharn's stone towers. Ancient trees grew from floating platforms of earth, their roots drinking from streams that fell upward. In the center stood a stone circle surrounding a pool of perfectly still water.

"Centuries ago, a druid named Thalen bound himself to the leylines beneath this city," Rook explained. "When he died, his essence merged with the water table. The spring you see before you is connected to those same currents you just stabilized."

He gestured for us to approach.

"The Enclave offers this gift rarely. Drink from Thalen's Well, and a portion of his vitality becomes yours."

One by one, we knelt at the pool's edge. The water tasted of stone and starlight, cold as mountain snow but burning with inner warmth. Something ancient settled into our bones.

The Well remembers. The Well strengthens. What was given shall not be taken.

When we rose, each of us felt different. Stronger. More whole. The leyline's pulse—the same rhythm Skid had felt since his transformation—now resonated faintly in all of us.

"Seek out Lux at The Floating Trinket in Dava Gate," Rook said. "She holds something that belongs to you now. Something that will help in what's to come."

The Sky Market

The Grand Lift carried us through Sharn's vertical expanse, past the Middle City, through the cloud layer, and into the bright heights of Dava Gate. The Sky Market sprawled before us—a maze of floating platforms connected by rope bridges and arcane lifts, where merchants from every corner of Khorvaire hawked their wares.

We wandered through the chaos:

• Copperspar's Curious Contraptions — Gnomish devices that seemed to serve no purpose yet demanded attention
• The Laughing Chimera — A tavern perched on three separate platforms, somehow serving drinks between them
• Crystal Spiral — Where the Dragonshards we'd found in the depths might fetch a king's ransom
• Smoke & Mirrors — Illusion magic sold by a figure who may or may not have been there at all

Lux found us before we found her. A halfling woman with silver-streaked hair and eyes that saw too much, she ran The Floating Trinket—a shop that appeared wherever it needed to be.

"I've been holding this for someone. Turns out that someone is you."

She produced a small chest of living wood, its surface crawling with golden veins. Inside rested The Heart of the Wild—a legendary Dragonshard bound with natural magic, pulsing with the same green light that had swept through Sharn's lanterns.

"The Enclave sends its blessings," Lux said. "Though I suspect you'll need them sooner than you'd like."

She pressed a sealed letter into our hands. The wax bore the mark of House Cannith.

House Cannith

The Skyway district gleamed with wealth we'd rarely seen. Suite 47 of Cannith Hall made our previous lodgings look like broom closets—crystal chandeliers, Zilargo glasswork, furniture that probably cost more than our entire adventuring careers combined.

Arvell d'Cannith waited for us with projection stones already activated. A diagram of leylines flickered in the air above his desk, showing the network we'd begun to understand—and the dark void that still pulsed at its center.

"You've stabilized the primary anchor, yes. But the system is damaged. The rift—what our scholars call the Ley Maw—continues to grow."

He manipulated the projection, zooming in on a device schematic.

"We've been developing something we call a regulator. A device that could stabilize the entire network, not just individual anchors. With the Dragonshards you've recovered..."

The leylines on the projection pulsed. Arvell's expression grew grave.

"The shards you now possess are key components. Without them, the regulator cannot function. Without the regulator, the Maw will eventually consume Sharn's ley network entirely. And when that happens—"

He didn't need to finish.

Glass and Shadow

The crash of shattering glass cut through Arvell's words.

Four figures burst through the suite's windows on hang gliders of shadow and steel, their masked faces bearing the sigil we'd learned to hate—the Slanted Circle. They moved with impossible coordination, surrounding us before we could draw weapons.

"The shards belong to the Circle!" the lead agent snarled. "Hand them over, and you might leave this tower alive."

We did not hand them over.

Combat erupted across the luxury suite. Circle Warriors fought with techniques we hadn't seen before—moves that bent around our defenses, attacks that came from angles that shouldn't exist. They knew about the leylines. They could feel them, manipulate them.

One agent, dying, grabbed my arm with iron fingers.

"You don't understand what you're protecting. The Maw isn't a threat—it's a door. And we will open it."

The fight spilled across the balcony. Two agents dead. A third thrown from the platform, his glider catching wind too late. The fourth—the leader—threw something at the floor. Smoke and shadow erupted.

When it cleared, the agents were gone.

So were the regulator plans.

Breach

Sirens wailed across the Skyway. House Cannith security flooded the suite, too late to matter. Arvell stood amid the wreckage of his office, face pale, hands shaking as he sorted through what remained.

"The vault," he said. "The secondary vault. Check it now."

A guard returned moments later. His expression said everything.

"The regulator schematics. The backup copies. All of it. Gone."

Arvell turned to us, and for the first time, we saw fear in a dragonmarked heir's eyes.

"Without those plans, we cannot build the regulator. Without the regulator, we cannot close the Maw. And with those plans in the Circle's hands..."

He stared at the flickering ley diagram, still hovering above the wreckage.

"They don't want to stop the rift. They want to control it. If they succeed, the leylines beneath Sharn won't just destabilize. They'll tear this city apart from the inside."

The green lanterns of Sharn burned on, oblivious. But something had shifted. The Emerald Enclave's blessing, the Heart of the Wild, the stabilized anchor—none of it mattered if the Circle completed whatever ritual they were planning.

The sky grew dark. The ley pulse quickened.

The race to save Sharn had truly begun.

---

The Slanted Circle has the regulator plans. The Ley Maw continues to grow. And somewhere in the shadows, agents prepare for a ritual that could reshape—or destroy—everything we've fought to protect.

What is the Circle really trying to open? Who taught them to manipulate the leylines? And can we stop them before the door swings wide?

The adventure continues...