As she walks alongside Kalemar, having consented to have the noble warhorse carry some of the brave warrior's gear, Raeli ponders Quayne's question -- and wonders how the others will answer. "Knowledge is what I wish for. Knowledge I have sought for many years now." She is instinctively careful about mentioning any specifics about how long she has been searching. It is too easy to spark questions when the number is longer than her apparent age.
Vaelins walks for the most part silently, thinking presumably about the artifact that we have just retrieved and its power.
"Ah, Miss Raeli, I too am a seeker of knowledge. This is but one of many reasons why the arcane arts called to me, or in some cases, grabbed me and tore me from my home. But knowledge of what? There are stories that even Aureon does not know everything. Were I to content myself with the knowledge of magic, it has many schools and I could not possibly hope to know them all. Even should I content myself with further knowledge of Elemental Binding, I learn of planes beyond our own, creatures of earth and fire, wind and water; their abilities and languages, their habits and habitats."
"What you seek is *a* knowledge. But beware the destination reached without a journey... ooh, that does sound deep."
"Sorry, I did not mean to lecture. I also seek a knowledge, but I fear it will do me no good just yet. And things are ever changing."
Quayne gazes into the distant east, a troubled look on his brow and a breeze flaps at his robes. The wind through the trees sounds like the wash of the ocean and the clouds above scutter by as a lone bird wheels overhead with a single cry. Gartha caws loudly back, startling Quayne.
"Hush, you meddlesome creature. Anyway, I shall sleep during the first watch and remain awake the rest of the night. I am used to taking my sleep where I can."
The almost perfect white smile returns to his face as quickly as it left.
Raeli nods, ceding the wizard's point. "True. The knowledge I seek is not nearly as ambitious as all that. In fact, it is very precise and narrow -- merely difficult to find. I am, after all, and above all, a hunter, and a hunter requires a specific and finite target." She doesn't usually use words like "merely" and "finite", but when she speaks to Quayne she feels like a bumbling idiot and occasionally overcompensates.
She doesn't know what motivation opens her mouth, but she finds unbidden curiosity rising to her lips. "What knowledge do you seek, then, Quayne Dovarr? Perhaps I might fare better at finding your elusive target than I have with my own quarry."
You find an open field next to the roadway that would make an decent campsite, you can see clearly in all directions and there are no game trails nearby, so you should be relatively safe from predators.
"The knowledge I seek is..." Quayne thinks carefully.
"No doubt as a skilled hunter you may be able to find my target. I would certainly be grateful for your help. But I am not certain of the situation at all."
"You see, I am a pirate. I doubt you have heard of Prince Thierra Dovarr. She commands a fleet of just three ships and has a small principality off the coast of Cliffscrape just south of the Hoarfrost Mountains. She is a proud and strong woman, clever and cunning, sharp as the cry of a gull and as relentless as the waves on the shore. She is my mother."
"For those of you not familiar with the Lhazaar Principalities, I am not a prince. Any and every two bit ruler that can sail a ship and hold a piece of rock declares themselves a prince in Lhazaar and most of them are dragged under the waves every time the tide changes. While my mother has held and expanded her lands for over three decades, she is by no means powerful. She has held her lands together through careful diplomacy, cunning alliances and force of will. She has been navigating an ever changing ocean of treachery and deceit, and until recently has kept her sails full and the wind at her back. But she is a very small fish in a very big pond and, despite her abilities, something has happened."
"What that may be, I do not know. What I do know is that her letters to me, and the money for my studies, have ceased. I do not have the finances to return, and have no idea what I could do if I did. I am not one for intrigue, and I know not the balances and sway of the powers involved. She could be in hiding, or imprisoned, or..." Quayne looks away.
"I fear if I were to return unprepared, I may make things worse. But I know not what preparations to make. Apart from needing a ship, for if one thing never changes in Lhazaar, it is the need for transport, offence, home and fortification in the one place, and for that place to be mobile enough to escape from and to hunt down your enemies."
"So, I guess I was wrong when I said I also sought *a* knowledge. I was thinking to know the whereabouts of my mother, but that is only a single piece of the puzzle, and becomes useless if she moves before I get there."
"Thank you for listening to my tale and for your patience. It has weighed upon me a while and I feel the better for having told it. Before it filled my mind and dragged at me with its sheer immensity. Now that it has been reduced to words it seems more managable somehow. Thank you."
Quayne looks expectantly at Raeli, and does not ask her to reciprocate.
As Quayne tells his story Kiralinsee walks around him, carefully studying the conjuror. When Quayne finishes she pauses and looks perplexed as if thinking hard about something.
"Hmmm... a pirate you say? You don't seem like much of a pirate. Where's your eye-patch? or your peg-leg? or your hook-hand? Everyone knows a good pirate is missing at least one body part. Also who ever heard of a pirate wearing robes? And for that matter you're way too well groomed to be a pirate. Nothing about you gives off the air of unkempt. You should be filthy and have at least a couple sores. And who ever heard of a pirate with a raven? You need a parrot. You also have way too large a vocabulary for a pirate while lacking key pirate phrases like 'argh' and 'yo-ho-ho'. Nope, sorry Quayne but your story is just too far-fetched. Maybe if you had some sorta treasure map or something.
Vaelins smiles slightly at Kiralinsee's description of the proper pirate. His smile is just slightly more unnerving than a smile has any right to be.
You know, not all pirates look like that. I had dealings with a Lhazaar princeling once, when I served in the war. He was a sorcerer, with an eye made all of dragongem, so I guess that's like an eye patch. He wore magical robes of silver and green and he wasn't unkempt, and he spoke proper too, but he did have a parrot. It was a dragon-looking thing, but he said it was a parrot all the way from Argonessen. I once saw him call up an elemental that took an airship right out of the sky. So I know what pirates are like and Quayne could be one, or could once have been one.
Ulvak doubles over in laughter at Kira's description of a pirate "The young lady speaks the truth, clearly Quyane, you are no pirate" He says with a huge grin on his face.
He takes on a serious expression then "It sounds like your mother could perhaps use the help of House Lyrandar. Having the backing of one of the Dragonmarked houses could turn the tide, pun intended, in her favor."
Quayne pulls his hood over his head and appears to shimmer. A moment later Quayne sits before you wearing a black pirate hat complete with a white skull and crossbones. His robes are gone, replaced by tan pants, white shirt with emerald green vest and a great black overcoat that hangs down to his knees. One leg is clad in a many silver-buckled boot that rises above his knee, while the other leg ends in a wooden peg. The sleek black raven on his shoulder is now a colourful parrot adorned with feathers of red and green, shaking its head slowly. His short curly hair is still pitch black, but now hangs in long dreadlocks across his shoulders and thick stubble graces his dark brown cheeks and chin. An eye patch covers his left eye but there is a familiar golden orange twinkle in his visible right eye. The perfect smile minus the single tooth is unmistakably that of both Quayne and a seasoned pirate. He raises a wrist ending in a hook and touches his hat to Kiralinsee.
"Better? I made it myself."
Gartha squawks indignantly. You don't have to include me in your illusion.
Quayne turns to Ulvak.
"My mother could undoubtedly use the help of House Lyrandar, assuming they are not already involved for or against her. But why would they even notice her, let alone help? I have heard they are more interested in the incursions of House Thuranni into Lhazaar. That said, taking an airship into Lhazaar would certainly be a show of power that would get you taken seriously, though as Vaelins reports it could also attract unwanted attention."
Raeli looks up from picking the dirt out of Karmel's hooves, and she laughs so at Quayne's unexpected transformation that she nearly falls from her precarious position crouching over the horse's raised foreleg. Fortunately for her dignity, Karmel shifts his weight just enough to steady her balance.
Once the humor of the situation passes her by, she looks at the pirate-Quayne with a more critical eye. "The dreads are a good touch, though with a peg and a hook, I'd take you for a very poor pirate. Or unlucky at best."
She releases the hoof and straightens her body, wiping dusty hands off on her pants, which are surprisingly clean where they are usually covered by her thick gray armor. "I do recall your mother's name, and a fool I feel for not connecting you with her earlier. But as you say, she's not a major player in the Principalities and I believe I've only seen her once." To ward off too many probing questions, and perhaps to take her mind off the mention of Thuranni incursions, she quickly explains -- "Her island is home to some interesting creatures I needed to track down for a contract, and I sought her permission before hunting them. The little I know of her, I regret to hear she may have fallen upon foul times."
The story is true, for the most part -- thirty years prior, she had done a survey of some of the islands' fauna with her mother, collecting exotic specimens for House Phiarlan.
While she talks, she pulls a stiff brush out of the saddlebag and continues her evening routine of tending to her four-legged companions.
"Better? I made it myself."
Kiralinsee nods enthusiastically and gives Quayne a thumbs-up. "Now that's more like it. You're story certainly seems more plausible to me now. At the very least, you know what a pirate looks like. I suppose a treasure map was a bit too much to hope for though. Oh well, maybe your mother has one or knows about one. We should definitely make finding her a priority. And if anyone gets in our way, we'll just make them walk the plank."
Then as Quayne turns to Ulvak, Kiralinsee walks over to Raeli. "Can I help?" she asks eagerly.
Ulvak straightens up, and you hear a power in his voice that has not been present before "I am a scion of House Phiarlan, marked by the Dragons themselves to help carry out the Draconic Prophecy. For my part, I seek to more closely unite and ally all the Houses. To that end, I have cultivated a fair number of contacts in many of the Houses. While I currently have not made any in House Lyrandar, I am sure some of those I have made know people of import among those Marked by the Storm."
At the mention of prophesy, Vaelins scoffs bitterly and stands to turn to Ulvak. You serve prophesy do you, what have the Dragons done for you that breeds such loyalty to serve their ends? What if it was the ends decreed by these Dragons that gave us a century of war and the destruction of Cyre.
"Its not so much I serve their ends, as I am empowered to serve the Prophecy as even the mighty dragons are slaves to it. What that means, none truly know, but the Marked Houses play a key role. As to the Last War and the destruction of Cyre, perhaps that is indeed the way things are meant to be. Maybe the way the kingdoms are now, without one central ruler, is how things should be. Who can say? All that I know is that I have a greater purpose, for if not, why would I be the way I am?"
Fate is what made you, the same fate that decreed this for me. Vaelins gestures to his grafted tentacle. Why should fate act on you any less?
"What difference is there between prophecy and fate? In fact, one could say a prophecy, of any sort, is a road map to one's fate. Unfortunately these road maps tend to be so garbled and hard to read that they often lead you to a different fate, perhaps even a false one."
Incapable of quelling Kiralinsee's enthusiasm, Raeli smiles and tosses her the brush. Karmel won't let just anyone tend to him, but he seems to like the odd little girl -- as demonstrated by the soft snort of acceptance and the fluttering of his lips against the top of her head. The shifter huntress pulls a comb out of a pocket and goes to work on the horse's silky mane and tail while Ulvak and Vaelins go on about fates and prophecy. They are no concern of hers, as she can put names and faces to the "fate" that put her where she is today.
Somewhere in the recesses of her heart, however, this thought does not ring entirely true. If fate, prophecy, whatever word you use for intangible forces of the universe acting upon a helpless soul, had no part in her life, then how to explain this body, and the one before, and the one before? And she can hardly ignore the mark of the draconic prophecy emblazoned onto her chest -- though she gives it a valiant effort.
"Be sure to rub with the hair, Kiralinsee, very good. Don't worry about getting his back, I can reach it when you're done."
"Fate, prophecy, destiny: surely what it does to us is nowhere near as important as what we do to it."
Quayne sweeps the pirate hat back from his head and it falls away to become the hood of his cloak again and he appears once more as the short, dark, elegant man you have travelled so far with.
"Thank you all. I shall turn in for the night. Well, a few hours anyway for that is all I need." Quayne points to a ring on his finger which appears to be made of gold, silver and copper braided together.
"I traded a few of my hats for this and found it very useful to prepare for some of my exams at the Twelve. Wake me after the first watch and I shall watch the rest of the night."
Quayne settles on his side, facing the fire, and soon his chest rises and falls slowly as he dreams of sailing the skies in a ship that crashes over billowing clouds and surges along the streams and currents of the air itself.
My fate is not recorded and accounted by others as your prophesy is. It is pure luck and what I choose to make of it for myself. I would not allow myself to be bound by a prophesy which allows others to manipulate me and I pity you if you feel you must.
Ulvak laughs, which sounds strangely like the sound of a spider laughing. "I am not manipulated nor does anybody pull strings to make me dance. The Draconic Prophecy has no control over me or in fact any one in such direct day to day manner. Rather, it is more like a guiding force, with an inscrutable purpose. Perhaps it has set you on your current path, though to what end, I have no idea. Or maybe it touches you not at all."
Vaelins still looks slightly rankled that he could be subject to this prophesy which Ulvak clearly knows a lot more about than he does.
Feeling he's made his point, Ulvak goes to sleep.
Edit:
Kiralinsee catches the brush deftly in her hands. She starts humming and sets about brushing the noble steed with an unnatural grace. After she finishes the areas she can reach she gives Karmel a hug. "There you go Karmy, Raeli will get your back and then we'll be ready for some rest. Karmel nudges Kiralinsee gently with her nose. Kiralinsee responds by tilting her head to the side to think "Hmmm... what could you want?" Kiralinsee snaps her fingers "Ah I know!" She reaches into her bag and produces a apple."Here you go"
Kiralinsee then notices that both Missy and Gartha are giving her a look. "Well I suppose what's fair is fair." She reaches back in her bag and pulls out a dog biscuit and tosses it to Missy. Then a glass container of blueberries. She puts a few out on the ground for Gartha. "There, everyone satisfied?"
Noticing Vaelins looks a bit unsettled, she'll walk over to him "Don't worry Vaelins. No mere prophesy could ever hold someone like you back"
After Raeli is done grooming
Raeli's spine tingles at Kiralinsee's whispered words, the hair rising slightly on the nape of her neck and along her arms -- a shifter trait she still hasn't grown used to, much less learned how to control. She had been planning on working on Missy's training, but as she watches the dog happily snuggle up to Kiralinsee, she decides it can wait. There are, after all, matters at hand that she has waited three bodies to deal with.
Wrapped in her cloak against the night's chill, she draws back from the fire and stalks a wide perimeter around the camp. Completing the circuit twice, she settles against the base of a tree where she can view the whole of the little clearing, pulling out the gemstone holding Raderol's soul. Knowing what she does about the monster within, she is surprised that the gem isn't black with stain. Taking a deep breath, she remembers who she is and sends her mind to touch...him.
The Gem glows a soft blue as your mind makes contact.
I watched you kill even the babes, but I do not know why you were there. Did Thuranni pay you to come along, or do you routinely involve yourself in their mass murders?"
With a single flap of wings, Gartha swoops down to the blueberries without awaking Quayne. The crow glances sidelong at Kiralinsee, pecks at the blueberries and in a moment they're all gone. She skitters back to where Quayne lies, then stops, looks warily at Kiralinsee and walks slowly back towards her.
Thank you.
Then with another flap of her wings, she alights on Quayne once more, who mumbles something in his sleep.
Seeing that Ulvak has gone to sleep and that their verbal sparring match is over, Vaelins rolls over and goes to sleep, clutching his backpack as a pillow.
The crickets chirp peacefully as true night descends on Karrnath.
“Wonderful!” The creature declares as he lifts a strange, pulsing organ in his humanoid hands and lowers it into your open chest cavity. “This is going marvelously! Maybe you are the one Experiment Nineteen!”
You hear the sound of chewing and for a moment you think the noise is emanating from the creature’s strange surgeries on your body until a figure steps into your reduced field of vision. It is Raderol the Thunder Jinn, chewing on a haunch of meat.
“Disgusting!” He declares between bites as he surveys your ruined body. “You Daelkyr are really just too much.”
“Did you bring me what I asked for?” The creature inquires.
“Yep, here you go.” Raderol responds, holding out a bulging brown sack, dripping with some viscous fluid. “Don’t know what you need it for but here it is, send payment to my master the normal way, as always.”
“Excellent! The monster exclaims excitedly, taking the sack. “Maybe this time it will work!”
Raderol tears another strip of flesh from his meal before shaking his head and turning away.
The Daelkyr reaches into the sack with a rapturous look on his face as a wave of pain causes the vision to fade.
"Well, I suppose you'll have a mystery to ponder inside that gem, until my thirst for revenge overwhelms me someday and I crush you into fine dust. The more questions you answer truthfully, the further off that day lies. Now, tell me exactly what Elar told you when he hired you."
Raeli tries to hide her frustration that Raderol demonstrates no fear, or even concern. She cannot help but wonder why he is so eager to offer up answers to every question she puts forth, and the wondering makes her cautious. These mental games and manipulations are not her field of strength, but she needs more from this creature than his death, so she must play them.
Snores quietly.
"I can assure you of this -- there will be irreparable harm to your masters before this is all over. Though it seems you have no concern about the harm I have planned for you, so I doubt you fear the fate of your superiors. Is it that you believe they will rescue you before I tire of listening to your voice in my head? For I'm beginning to believe you are no more than a lackey, in which case preserving your mind is suddenly of less interest to me. You know nothing but what your master commands you."
The night lengthens and the time for the second watch approaches.
Withdrawing from the thunder jinn's mental touch, Raeli stands and patrols the camp perimeter again, new information percolating through her mind while her senses search for danger. When she judges the time has come, she awakens the next shift and sits to write in her journal before falling into a restless sleep.
The night passes peacefully and without incident. As the sun rises and paints the east a rosy hue, you begin your daily ritual of eating, tending to your gear and preparing spells.
Ulvak awakens a few hours after dawn, stretching and feeling very rested. "The plan is to return the effects of those fallen in the battle versus the Thunder Jinn and use the ring to grant ourselves wishes, correct? Ladies first, Raeli, what would you like to wish for?? My power is yours to command" He finishes with a mockingly haughty laugh.