The Night of Flames

Up until a few days ago everyone knew where they stood. There was a clear, if unspoken, hierarchy in place. At the top (both physically and metaphorically) were the rich, the Councilors, the Dragonmarked Houses, the Boromar Clan. They were invincible. Cross them and you'd regret it. They controlled what people thought, what they did, and made sure the money never stopped flowing into their pockets. Then there was the working class, the ones who were good at doing what they were told. They were rewarded for it, to be sure, whether it was in one of the Guilds, or as a civil servant, joining the Watch, or by just running a shop or warehouse. If you kept your nose down and stayed out of trouble, you could be sure that those on top would protect you from those below.

And then there were the dregs of the city, the flotsam from the war that drifted in and settled in the bowels of Sharn. King Boranel's heart is just too big, letting just anyone take refuge in Breland, and the result was that the city's underbelly is stuffed to bursting with undesirables. Monsters from Droaam. An entire society of goblins. The warforged. The poor. The downright uncivil. If you kept them busy they wouldn't really get in the way, and besides, someone has to do the dirty work. It was understood by all that they should be grateful for the chance to get two coins to rub together. As long as they stayed out of sight everything would continue to flow smoothly.

But overnight things have changed, and now everyone knows that all is not as it has ever been.

When the goblins and the warforged spilled out of the undercity and started looting, the rich panicked and demanded that the city's forces concentrate on defending them. And for the first time, it just didn't happen, or at least it didn't happen across the board. Three of the four Commanders abandoned the lower wards in their jurisdiction, as ordered, and blocked the riots from spreading upwards. All of House Deneith jumped to the aid of the Councilors, defending what they were hired to defend. But for once there was glaring defiance, and who can say if it was for personal gain or righteous stupidity, but one of the Commanders broke the unspoken contract. And she will be punished for it. A sense of normalcy will eventually be restored to those above (at least in regards to the Sharn Watch), assuring them that if you don't do what you're told by those in charge there are consequences. But despite any actions that might be taken by the Council, the poor and the oppressed are now aware that they have a champion, and that knowledge alone could make a big difference in their lives.

Things changed for the Boromar Clan, the once undisputed leader of Sharn in all matters political, financial and criminal. Suddenly, they were no longer invincible. The Daask had made a show of cutting off a few of the heads from the enormous hydra. No one has any doubt that the heads will grow back, but the big surprise was that anyone was capable of hurting the hydra in the first place. Of course those in power now realize just what a threat the Daask can pose and that they need to be put back in their place. If the monsters won't stay down in the dark and out of the way then they simply won't be welcome any longer.

House Cannith is no longer the bastion of power it once was either. Everyone still remembers the days of glory for the house, not so very long ago, when it had all of Khorvaire eating out of its hand. Every nation was buying warforged and golems and seige engines and eternal wands as fast as they could be produced. The House had nowhere to go but up. No one had foreseen the disaster of the Mourning nor its terrible scope. Overnight the House was crippled, it’s patriarch gone, it's treasury lost, the Creation Forges destroyed, thousands of the most skilled artificers and magewrights in all of Eberron killed. The House survived, to be sure, and all knew that Baron Merrix d'Cannith was still a generation ahead of his contemporaries. All knew that the Cannith Forgehold in Sharn would meet Breland's needs in the years to come, and so it was that the local people felt secure in House Cannith. But now things have changed. Are the rumours true? Has House Cannith violated the Thronehold Accords, taking the risk of plunging Breland back into war? Has a warrant gone out on the Baron, for charges of conspiracy? Surely this must be a mistake, committed by one already known to break the unspoken oaths. Surely the rock on which the common person and industry alike has always relied is as strong as ever.

Everyone, at least everyone that mattered, was looking forward to the Plan for Warforged Re-Education. Finally the warforged would be reminded of their place in Breland: that of public property. The Kingdom spent a lot of money on them and it was time that they started repaying their due. Sure, there were a few philosophers that mused on the nature of warforged sentience, but to those in charge and to the working class and to the hungry, such matters were of little import. What mattered was that taxes would be lowered and rebuilding would occur. If the warforged were accustomed to marching and fighting they should see lifting and smelting as a welcome reprieve, and show some gratitude for it. At least one thing would remain constant during all this turmoil.