The seal of the Fabricator’s Guild, by Matthew Johnson The coldfire lantern hanging from the ceiling? That flickering’s due to a poorly etched sigil. Give me five minutes and a crown’s worth of residuum and I could have it steady and brighter. There’s a crack in the cleansing…
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The sigil of the Defender’s Guild, by Matthew Johnson. Those two have been watching you since you came in. The dwarf in the conveniently nondescript chainmail recently drank a Potion of Giant Strength—see the way his muscles are trembling, barely able to contain the power? The Khoravar’s a…
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The Seal of the Handler’s Guild, as depicted by Matthew Johnson. By many measures, humanity and its cousins may seem to be the weakest of Eberron’s children. Compare me to a simple housecat. My eyes can’t pierce the gloom of night. I have no claws and my teeth…
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