Allegiance Old and New
Thirteenth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
The Shadow of Old Sarnor, Plane of Shadow
After the battle in the temple, the shadow dragons had grown much more circumspect in their attacks, lashing out from narrow crevices, exhaling gusts of deadly vapor through cunningly crafted vents. More than once a lashing tail sought to trip or drag them into a trap, only to be revealed as a piece of leather twined with a glamor. Claws of bone raked at them and whispered curses echoed down the twisting corridors. Anu knew these passages, he had designed them, or something like them at least. "I do not know if it is the hand of the goddess herself or the mages who serve her, but this place is not as... familiar as it should be," he said a touch hesitantly.
Bloom's smile was kind. "That is still more knowledge of this place than we have." Somehow she had ended up in the front of their company alongside only the living dead, the light of her presence helping to dispel the shadows of this place, her ability to melt into the stone allowing them to navigate dead ends and deceptive loops as not even the devils' true sight could.
"I worry that they might be using it against me," the warforged mage said softly. "They must know know by now that I have betrayed them, I have hardly kept my presence in Sorcerer's Deep discreet..."
"You could hardly be said to have betrayed those who lied and used you," Lord Drekelis snorted. "It was good of you to start a family."
Anu wondered if the young man realized how much the offhand remark meant to him, the fact that it was offhand most of all, drawing no distinction between the children of flesh and blood his wife had birthed and the ones Anu had forged from metal and magic.
Alas, he did not have long to appreciate the moment. Bolts flew down the corridors, shouts in the dark, crossbowmen with poisoned bolts and some charm to see in the dark. The poison did little against the dead, the snatchers and knights making quick work of those who did not run.
Mind, they are starting to look a little ragged, Anu thought, noticing bare bone peeking though twisted metal and tattered flesh from one of the earlier traps. He glanced questioningly towards the red-robed priest, but he only shook his head. It seems he had no power to mend the harm done to living corpses.
***
The gilded doors to magister Illyrio's chambers opened with a soft click and no sign of any ward or guard.
He would have had the time to steal away again, assuming he was willing to flee the fortress for some other lesser sanctuary.
"Ah, my friend, come to see how your work has been improved upon, have you?" a familiar voice called from within. The crimson robes and beard like fine gold, oiled and split down the middle, were familiar enough, but the man Anu had once called friend now looked haggard and world weary as he faced them. On the table besides him were three dragon eggs one black, one gold, one emerald green. If Anu did not know better, he would think they had just surprised the magister in the middle of taking some eggs with him as he fled.
He did know better.
"That is an illusion," he said silently to his companions instead of answering the taunt.
"More like a conjuration really, something with just enough substance that true sight would not simply dismiss it out of hand."
Zherys decided to play along at least for the moment. "Come now, magister, you are not some petty thug to be dragged before the king in chains, nor a fiend or wizard to require arcane bindings. Disarm yourself, and..."
Anu felt a sudden jolt of pain at the back of his head though nothing had touched him, seals and symbols flashed before his mind's eye too fast to follow.
Obey
He was not meant to follow them, the mage realized dimly. Some sort of control pattern of Old Sarnor, something that had been a part of him from his first forging. Had they found a way to harness it or found it in the ruins? Had Illyrio always had it? The questions felt distant, dread threatening to drown him.
Obey... kill them... kill
The shadows at the back of the room shifted, he could hear the scraping of arrow slits being opened behind the silken curtains.
It is your place... Kill them, starting with the Volantine sorcerer, the priest next if you live that long.
I do not have a place, Anu thought, his thoughts slow as rusted gears.
I have a king, a home, a family. Turning to the shadow-puppet impersonating his once ally, the warforged mage said only, "Your standards for polite deportment have slipped since last we met, magister."
OOC: Anu did not make the spot check to notice what was controlling him, though from the fact that no one else did one can assume it's fairly subtle. Not yet edited. 
