The day it all began promised to be more pleasant than most. Not that our lives in the sweaty folds of Sharn, the crotch of Breland would be any different tomorrow, but for a few hours we'd be above the clouds hobnobbing with the great and good, all of us acting like we were somebody who mattered.

I, Hellyug Borduki, was waiting with my two old war buddies Lazami and Monoriak to board an airship and rise up through the clouds to an official commemoration to mark four years since the Day of Mourning.

Why you may ask were two petty war profiteers, and I, purveyor of sugary songs to drunks, invited to such a lofty event? It's because we were there. We saw it, and not many can say that.

Four years before Lazami, Monoriak and I were all grunts in the Light Company of Breland's 78th Infantry. Not that Monroiak is light. He's Warforged, and as big as a tower block. No sense of humour, but as solid and reliable a guy as you would ever want to meet. Lazami, like me, is a little feller. He's a halfling from the Talenta plains, but he's a solid ball of muscle. Hit's hard and fast. I'm a goblin, and I was meant to be an entertainer not a soldier. My employer, a scion of House Deneith, had taken me with him to the front to deliver a mercenary band. Then after the deal was done I played old heroic ballads while he wined and dined the brass, but the stupid fuck choked on a chicken wing and dropped dead. Moving faster than a dwarf who's seen a copper piece in the gutter the army had me pressed into the army; eager for the next victim of that pointless war to be me.

On the 20th of Ollarune 994 an attack was planned. Another attack. Just like all the attacks before. And once again the generals had no clue what was going to happen. They still have no clue what happened. Neither do I, but me and my buddies had a front row seat for the worst horrorshow anyone would ever see. We'd been sent up to a ridge with a clueless magitech and a special new communications device which we could use to talk to the brass while they sat on their fat arses in a plush hotel 10 miles from the battle lines. That way they only had to hear how they'd fucked up, not see how they'd fucked up. And brother did they fuck up. They lost the whole god-damned army. But we three survived, and we three saw them lost and that's why we were going on that airship.

We got onto the airship and who do we see there but Captain Kalaes, once of Breland's secret service, now four years older, fatter and drunker. Now a Captain in Sharn's City Watch. He'd been on that ridge with us four years ago.

We'd set up the device in the shelter of a ruined tower. But we weren't alone in the tower.  Lazami heard some noise from inside, and behind a wall he and Moroniak found a couple of our guys bound and gagged, Captain Kalaes and his offsider Aric. Next to them was this weird, writhing, glowing symbol in a patch of dirt.

We cut them free. They'd been captured while on a mission in Cyre to investigate a secret weapon, and next thing they knew there they were beside that bizarre, hypnotising symbol. The longer we looked the clearer it's meaning was and then bam, all at once we knew what they symbol meant. "Three on the brink of desolation stand as one against the tempest's roar."

It meant nothing to us then. It was just strange, and a bit frightening. Outside things were more strange and more frightening. Clouds were gathering across Cyre as far as we could see and there was a strange orange, flickering light within them. Our army was deploying, Cyre's could only just be seen in the distance.

We weren't in the front line, but still we didn't get through that day without fighting for our lives. At least we got through that day with our lives, unlike the rest of the hopeless boys in the 78th. Coming up the ridge towards us were two humans with four zombie soldiers from the Emerald Claw some secret Karnathi outfit. They demanded we give up Kalaes to them. That we did not, we fought them and smacked them down.

We were dancing on air then. There's nothing like the thrill of knowing your alive when the alternative had been close. That day though the sensation lasted a second. You know what happened, but you know because men like me saw it. The armies had engaged now and we could hear the sounds of battle. Then those clouds came from the sky until there was a thick grey fog covering all of Cyre, that orange light flashing like fire, and the battle was lost from sight.

And then everything went quiet. The clash of metal ended. The horses hooves stopped pounding. The screams died abruptly. Nothing. On the edge of the fog we saw men running towards us, but the fog caught them and they burst into flames and fell. The rest we couldn't see at all, but we did see that fog rolling towards us and we ran for our lives. We had saved Kalaes, but the rest we could do nothing for.

Now it seemed someone else was after Kalaes. On the airship he told us that he was being followed by an elven woman. A hot, skimpily clad elven woman with facial tattoos. I once heard a shitty, fat drunk sing that two out of three ain't bad, but it seemed that Kalaes didn't agree; he wanted us to follow her for him and find out what she wanted. It seemed he had a few enemies, and so he was suspicous.

The airship took us high up to the top of a tower where we joined a herd of stuffed shirts and their fat wives to remember the Day of Mourning. So we're all standing there listen to an old general stuck together with a tunicfull of medals he didn't deserve drone on about our nation's great sacrifice, and the lessons we've all learned, and the pig just wouldn't shut up. I was wrestling a drink off a pompous servant, when the fat fuck finished by proposing a minutes silence to mark the tragic event.

It was all I could do to stop myself screaming. We didn't need silence. Those poor damned boys never-decaying corpses in the Mournland had silence. We needed noise and life. We needed laughing, sobbing, shouting, grunting, screeching, singing noise. I shook, because I could see the fog again and the orange light, and from the fog came cries of terror.

I looked up and saw that thist time it wasn't a dream. Behind the grizzled general was grey fog with orange flickering light, straight from the Day of Mourning and the guests were running screaming, and falling dead around me. I couldn't move. What was inside the fogs? What had those soldiers seen that day?

The fog engulfed me. It stung and ate into my flesh, and at first I couldn't move. At the centre of the fog coming towards me the tendrils of mist flowed out from what looked like a huge silverback gorilla. I drew my scimitar and fought for my life. Things were desperate, but Monoriak came to my aid and together we cut the beast down. The fog dissipated, and then out of it came the same symbol we'd seen in that tower, "three on the brink of desolation stand as one against the tempest's roar."

It still meant nothing. I knew no more about that day four years ago. And the idea that everything living in Cyre had been killed by huge foggy gorillas somehow laughable. But I couldn't shake the feeling that the attack had been targeted at the three of us. Needless to say the party was over so we were soon back on the airship heading down into the sweaty, stinking creases of Sharn.

Our day was still not over. I was staring out the window at the homes of the rich and amoral when a goblin appeared in front of me. He turned his head and shouted, "It's the three of them, with a human", and then I saw four more goblins all armed swooping down on flying boards towards the airships. I guess in Sharn even magically equipped goblins have to go without carpet on their floor.

The goblins came at us firing bows, and slew the pilot of the airship. Kalaes took the controls, but it was a bit rough. Lazami, Monoriak and I fought off the goblins. Once we had a couple down we used their boards and got to them all. Kalaes put the airship down with a crash.

"What the fuck did they mean 'the three of them'", I said to Kalaes.

"Funny", he replied, "a document that came across my desk mentioned talk of 'The Three' in the underworld. Why don't we adjourn to this nice bar I know to discuss it some more."

And so we did.

Clippings from the Sharn Inquisitive, dated 20 Ollarune 998

Fog causes deadly stampede

The appearance of a grey “fog” at a Day of Mourning Commemoration in the Upper Menthis ward this morning caused a panic which led to five mourners being killed in a stampede.  The commemoration was a private event organised for Brelish soldiers who survived the Battle of Kennrun on the Day of Mourning.  A number of senior officers were present and Aless ir’Sanda, the wife of Major-General (retired) Gerreth ir’Sanda, was amongst those killed. 

The matter is being investigated by the City Watch, but Commander Kurna Dalgoria has so far remained silent on the matter.  However, Thurik Davandi - Representative for the Upper Menthis ward – issued a statement advising that the fog was simply steam escaping from a faulty boiler outlet valve which mourners mistook for the deadly fog which surrounded Cyre four year’s ago.  Davandi added that the chamber hosting the event only had one exit and this led down a tight and steep staircase.  It appears that most of those killed died after falling on the stairs.  Davandi has previously stated that if re-elected in next month’s Council elections he will ask for funding to improve the safety of access ways throughout the ward and to replace aging heating pipes. 

A service will be held for Aless ir’Sanda and the other victims at the ir’Sanda estate in Skyway tomorrow afternoon.

Brazen daylight attack on off-duty Watch officer

City Watch Commander Kurna Dalgoria described an attack today on Watch Captain Bren Kalaes as a sign that organised criminals within the city are becoming desperate as new anti-crime measures begin to have an effect on their operations. 

Kalaes and three companions were travelling on a rented skycoach when it was attacked in mid-air by armed goblins on flying boards.  The goblins shot and killed the pilot of the skycoach and then peppered Kalaes and the other occupants with arrows as it spun out of control.  Kalaes and his companions fought their attackers off even as their vehicle careened into two towers in the Middle Dura ward, causing many thousands of GPs worth of damage.  Eyewitnesses stated that a goblin travelling with Kalaes managed to throw one of the attackers off his board and then used the device to pursue and slay two more.  One witness stated that this goblin unsettled his attackers with some particularly graphic commentary on their parentage. A second skycoach occupant also appears to have turned the tables on his attackers.  Witnesses have claimed that a halfling leapt into a nearby window from the out of control skycoach and then used what looked like a hockey stick to sweep a goblin off its board as it flew past.  The halfling then jumped from the window onto a second board to grapple another goblin.  The fourth occupant of the skycoach, a warforged, was described bravely shielding Kalaes with his own body as the Watch Captain managed to get the skycoach back under control land it safely on a balcony in the Imperial Tower. 

Captain Kalaes has developed a reputation as something as a renegade within the Watch.  He solved a number of major cases while working in the homicide division but was removed from that post after arresting Councillor Ilyra Boromar’s brother Shastroon in relation to a series of deaths in the Lower Dura.  Shastroon was later released without charge and his family claimed that the arrest was a political stunt.  As reported in last week’s Inquisitive Shastroon himself was recently killed in somewhat mysterious circumstances.

Dalgoria stated that Kalaes’ reputation as a crime-buster is likely to have prompted the attack.  She added that the Watch will be taking measures to protect off-duty officers and that the attack will not deter the Watch “… as it continues to keep its boot hard on the throat of organised crime in this city.”