Editing Announcements - 2006/12 - Cold Tracks (section)

== Teaser ==

{{Turbine 2005
 |  Link = <nowiki>http://ac.turbine.com/?page_id=502</nowiki>
 | Title = Cold Tracks
 |  Text =
Ardry shook the snow from his boots as he stepped wearily into the Thorsten's Rest tavern atop the hill in Cragstone. He nodded to the other regulars and settled into a table by the fire, hunching over a mug of cider and a bowl of beef stew.  Blood dripped into the stew from a gashed wound on his forehead, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. He shoveled the stew into his mouth with the unblinking dedication of the truly exhausted.
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Nor did he look up when the tavern door opened up again to again send cold, snowy wind gusting through the tavern.  A lone man entered and approached the bar. A casual glance told Ardry that he was a Sho, leanly muscled and dressed in well-used but well-maintained leather armor. The stranger ordered a cup of water and sipped his drink while casting covert glances around the room. He was being reasonably discreet about it, but over the years Ardry had developed a preternatural ability to sense when people were looking for him. He could feel the hairs prickle on the back of his neck as the stranger's gaze drifted, in a studiously nonchalant way, repeatedly to him.
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Finally, he could take no more. He dropped his spoon and sat up straight, reaching under the table to grasp the hilt of a dagger he'd stashed on his leg for just such a barroom encounter. Apparently sensing his paranoia, the stranger circled around so that he could approach Ardry from the front.
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Ardry looked directly at him as he approached, as much to establish eye contact as to be able to observe the way this stranger moved in case it did turn into a fight.  The stranger moved with the grace of a warrior trained in some of the more esoteric Sho combat arts, but he was nervous and unsure of himself.  Ardry sighed, and addressed the man as he came to the table.
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"I hope you're not here to kill me for trespassing in yet another fighting school, because I'm pretty tired of getting perforated by exquisitely trained Sho killers.  Please tell me you're not a Tanada.
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The man blinked several times, taken totally off guard by Ardry's conversational gambit.  He recovered himself, and grinned nervously.  "I apologize for my scrutiny, sir, but I seek a man named Ardry, nephew of the great sage Aliester the Loquacious.  Are you Ardry the Dubious?"
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"I am Ardry the Not Running Dangerous Scouting Missions Any More," Ardry snorted, releasing his grip on the dagger and taking a long drink from his cider.  He gestured at the other chair by the table.  "Yes, I'm the man you're looking for.  Have a seat.  I assume my uncle sent you?"
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"Not directly, sir," the stranger said.  "My name is Shan Zhen, but please just call me Zhen."  He sat eagerly at the table.  "My mistress sent me to find you, at your uncle's recommendation.  She said you were a brave and resourceful scout.  And that maybe you'd share some of what you found on your most recent expeditions if I were able to promise you a meeting with my mistress.  She sends a token to prove to you that I am not lying."  He reached into a pouch and set a small medallion on the table.
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Ardry's eyes widened.  "All right, Zhen.  You've got me interested.  What did you want to know?"
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"My mistress is curious about some of the notes you've found in the course of exploring dungeons we had previously believed to be thoroughly mapped.  Notes that were written by a certain missing wizard that she is trying to help locate.  When you wrote to your uncle about them, he passed word on to her."
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Ardry nodded.  "I did find some notes... Three of them.  I found the first one while investigating the earthquake near Lady Folthid's estate.  Most of it went right over my head, though.  There were some strange mathematical notations..."
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Zhen leaned forward, excited.  "Yes!  The numbers.  I have reason to believe that those numbers are actually the key to recovering a journal that Asheron left behind."
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Ardry considered this as he drank the last of his cider.  "Well, that's interesting, all right.  How would the numbers help you find his journal?"
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"He covered his tracks well.  We have reason to believe he may have thought someone or some thing was trying to follow him, with evil intent.  So he left his journal somewhere safe and hidden, reachable only by people who could use the numbers he left to decipher the clues and find the journal."
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Ardry grimaced.  "Sounds complicated.  What's in this journal that's worth so much trouble?"
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"Information on where he went, and how he went there.  Notes on a geomantic portal-opening ritual...  To another world."
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Ardry laughed.  "There aren't many people in Dereth who can work portal-opening rituals my friend, let alone to another world.  An Empyrean could do it, but you're not going to get that old crank Harlune to crawl out from under his rock to help.  As for Isparians working that kind of powerful ritual... That's even less likely.  Trust me, my uncle has been trying to figure out how to do it for years, and he knows as much about geomancy as any Isparian."
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Zhen grinned, with a disconcertingly sly expression.  "With all due respect to your venerable uncle, Ardry, there are some Isparians who are capable of such magic.  At least one has learned under Asheron himself.  With the proper guidance, perhaps the information left in the journal..."
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Ardry took a deep breath.  "Very interesting."  He stood, picked up his bowl and his mug, and brought them to the bar for the barkeeper Magrom to clean up.  He came back to the table, shaking his head.  "All right, I'll help you."  He paused and glared suspiciously at Zhen.  "And you're sure this means I get a meeting with your mistress?"
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Zhen nodded enthusiastically.  "She wishes to discuss the matter with you personally.  To review the notes you have found.  She believes the numbers hold the key unlocking the mechanisms Asheron left behind to protect his journal."
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"Lead on then, Zhen," Ardry said.  "Even though I'm pretty sure that before all this is over I'm somehow going to end up leaving a few more mutilated corpses around Dereth..."
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The two men exited the tavern, one walking briskly with his head high and his eyes hopeful, the other slouching wearily behind as he considered the punishment that was sure to be in store for getting involved with another mysterious cause.
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