"Yes. Ready. Indeed." Slidell says to no one as he idly plays with a vial filled with something silver that he has taken from one of his pockets. A small, playful smile creeps across his lips.
At Corran's speech he raises his glass with Malcolm, though he is not as good at draining it.
"The honor is all ours sir. Thank you Corran, I'm gonna miss you." Slidell says as Corran nods and takes his leave.
"I'm gonna miss him." Slidell repeats as he turns back to the ones remaining at the table. "I'm gonna miss that shield." He slaps himself on the forehead,... again. "I never got to take notes on his combat techniques!" HE cries forlornly. "Ah well, He's joined the militia, he'll be easier to find now than the rest of us I dare say!"
Slidell takes another swig of the hearty ale, and begins muttering. "Horatio. Sczarni. Riddleport. Vesh & Malcolm are from Riddleport. One month. Hire 'experienced' to weed out,... OK. Why make him acting sheriff if he's not going to be around to take charge if needed? What is so important about the Sczarni that takes precedence over defending the town from a goblin invasion? And where WAS he going in such a Haste-Spell Hurry?!?" He adds with a wink at Vesh.
"Well, onwards and forwards as the winds blow us eh? When do we mount this little expedition? And what of the goblins of Thistletop? Having a horde of the little bastards led by a demon-worshipping madwoman and a fanatic half-elf so close to Sandpoint doesn't exactly fill me with joy."
"Hm? When? Oh, yes. I will require a couple of days to prepare, at least. I mean, I could probably do it all in one day, but if I mess up the ritual or the spells, then I'm out a good bit of expensive reagents. No. I mean Yes. I will need a couple of days at least. that will give me time to complete everything completely and accurately, with enough time thrown in to pick up a few more mundane items from the bazaar." He continues, mumbling something about times involved, proper reagents, and scribing. From the way that Veran is shaking his head, and the whispered comments between them, it seems that at least a few of Slidell's time estimates are a little off.
"Thistletop. Hm,... Yes. That IS a problem. Good strategy suggests that we do not leave them a base to operate from. Not to mention leaving an enemy alive and dangerous in your backyard. Yes. We should probably go and enter 'aggressive negotiations' with this,... Ripnugget? What an odd name. Even for a Goblin. Where do you suppose,...?" he trails off, taking another swig as Veran whispers something in his ear.
He almost chokes, and spits his mouthful of beer out, narrowly missing Vesh. "What?!" HE cries, looking at Veran. At the Bird's amuzed nod, Slidell reclaims his mug. "Well, that's,... just wrong on so many Planes of existence that I can't begin to tell you,..."
Refocusing with an effort, Slidell looks at Malcolm. "I agree. I think they are possibly the biggest threat. At least in the long run. The papers you uncovered are ample proof that this was only the beginning of their plans for Sandpoint."
"However,..." He states ominously. "I think that this 'exploration' of the tunnels is our top priority. Especially with what we've discovered. The Wrathspawn are essentially immortal, and don't absolutely need food to survive. So it's possible that the ones we saw are possibly the last remnants of some ancient outpost, and they were left behind as guards. But that still doesn't answer the questions I have. Questions Like, 'What were the guarding?' and "How did they end up in the tunnels?'. These were the favored footsoldiers of the Wrathlord's armies. I seriously doubt that only a single pair were left behind if they were supposed to be guarding something."
Slidell turns to look at the others directly. "I don't think I can overemphasize the level of potential disaster this might herald. YOU saw what damage a few dozen Goblins did to this town. Now imagine if even a handful of those things got into Sandpoint." He looked at each person directly to make his point. "We need to find out where the Wrathspawn came from, and make sure there aren't any more. They are too dangerous to be allowed to escape from underground!"
Ehlissa looks somewhat stunned by Corran's departure from the group, and her eyes grow big. "Oh.. um... well, they need men like you certainly." she bites her lip, "... Take care of yourself, you."
"Stormraven is right, we need to deal with these things here before we go to Thistletop."
"... Take care of yourself, you."
Corran turns to Ehlissa and flashes a smile. "And you do the same." He leaves.
Corran turns to Ehlissa and flashes a smile. "And you do the same." He leaves.
After the young man leaves, Ehlissa turns away and sits silently at the table, unusually withdrawn in her manner. Her eyes are downcast and she doesn't add very much more to the conversation.
"Yes, Ameiko that seems like a very sensible idea." Ehlissa says quietly, her focus somewhat divided.
I thought that... I wanted... I... Corran, I hope we will find that path together one day. But you see where your duty lies. Where does mine? Back home? The Convent? Here? It must be here. The Lady has sent me here. That is my duty.
Vesh raises a glass in toast to Corran. "Farewell," he says, "and good luck in the guard."
"The Wrathspawn are essentially immortal, and don't absolutely need food to survive. So it's possible that the ones we saw are possibly the last remnants of some ancient outpost, and they were left behind as guards. But that still doesn't answer the questions I have. Questions Like, 'What were the guarding?' and "How did they end up in the tunnels?'. These were the favored footsoldiers of the Wrathlord's armies. I seriously doubt that only a single pair were left behind if they were supposed to be guarding something."
Vesh considers Slidell's words and frowns. "There is another twist in the tale that I think we need to be aware of." He says.
"I had a chance to consult Father Zantus. He seems finally to take the threat of a not-dead Nualia seriously." Again, Vesh produces the drawing of Nualia and points to the markings on her belly.
"Father Zantus seems to think that one of these markings are the symbol of Lamashtu. He seems to think that Nualia may have gotten involved in something that has gotten beyond her--that she's somehow in over her head."
I nod at Slidell "I agree; Sandpoint has at least some defenses from an attack from the outside but a strike from within would be much more destructive." When Slidell starts choking on his ale I slap him on the back, bemused "What? What did your funny bird tell you this time?"
"A reward of 2000 gold pieces?" I say, looking speculative as Corran speaks "Even split amongst us that'd be a tidy sum."
To Ameiko I say "Could you remember enough of the layout to draw us a map? Knowing where we're going would be invaluable."
When Vesh mentions his conversation with the Father I say "Hold a moment. Who or what is Lamashtu? The name doesn't sound familiar."
Salome observes the sudden seriousness of the group, and the air of grief as their friend Kuhrran departs. She listens as Slidell, finding comfort in his own voice, starts planning out another adventure, but it's clear that a piece of their hearts is now missing.
But they keep talking. Strange names, pieces of story, some mystery she doesn't understand. Just like the graveyard. Again, they are ignoring the most obvious need. It's the people that matter, not the mystery. Sarenrae, guide me in this.
Salome clears her throat. "There are empty chairs at your table," she states matter-of-factly. "Grief unspoken cannot heal." She pauses for a moment to acknowledge the loss.
"It seems to me that for the past two days, each of you in your own way has asked me to fill those empty chairs. I cannot. I am not Kuhrran. I am not Naelah," she looks at Slidell and glares for a split-second.
"I am Salome bajAtru, Child of None. I have no people. I belong to no one but Sarenrae. Everyone I have loved is dead -- killed by the evil of men and jimarrae. I have seen unspeakable things that would make you weep," she looks directly at the unflappable Malcolm. "My call is to heal, to protect, and to bring light to dark places. I go where I am needed, guided by the Light of Dawn. She has led me from the deserts of Qadira to this place at this time. As long as I am needed, I will sit at your table, follow your quest, and offer what help I can. But I cannot fill those empty chairs."
I look appraisingly over the rim of my mug at the fiery woman across the table from me, dryly commenting "Yes. I figured that you weren't Naelah nor Corran all by myself."
Once she's finished speaking I stare into the now almost empty depths of my mug for a moment before saying "There're always empty chairs at the table, Salome bajAtru. Its a fact of life. No point in greiving those who ain't dead yet, just following a different course for a spell. We'll cross paths with Corran again 'fore too long. Hells, if things go south we'll fight beside him again soon. No mourning or grieving to be done, not by me, until a real tragedy blows in. Nothing to be done but raise a glass to them and wish 'em the best of luck until we cross their paths once more. But, I'll never turn down another companion, especially not one talented in the healing arts and who, from the looks of you, knows her way around a fight. I say welcome aboard Salome bajAtru. The more the merrier."
Ehlissa smiles sadly, "Yes, we may see them before long," she says in hopeful manner.
"I'm glad you'll join us, Salome. You have a chair of your own."
Vesh smiles weakly at Salome. "You are right, of course." He says, "A grief unspoken cannot heal. Yet, I agree with Malcolm. Neither Corran nor Naelah are dead. I grieved when Naelah left us for reasons that...(Vesh glances at Slidell)...well, for my own reasons. Now it seems that she will come and go as the wind blows her. Corran, I think, has found a home."
He looks at each in the group in turn. "Well, I too, have things to weeps over, Salome. I have lost my home, but not to fire or destruction, but because of tradition and stupidity and a useless master called honor." He almost spits the last word.
Vesh pauses to drink through the ensuing uncomfortable silence before continuing, "I am not the Child of None, I was the child of Verd and Revka il' Camelo of the Velashu Uplands. Disowned by my own people, shut out. Cut off. Riddleport was my home for last four years, or so I thought. It turns out that Riddleport was not so much interested in adopting me as a son as it was in using me to do it's dirty work and then spitting me out when they had no more use for me."
"So I am here. In Sandpoint and, for better or worse, a hero--whatever that means. I can tell you truly, though, I like being called a hero more than I like being called dishonorable or useless. So, like Corran, I have found a home."
He looks at the group and adds simply. "You are my home."
"Hold a moment. Who or what is Lamashtu? The name doesn't sound familiar."
"Well", Slidell pipes up, hastily swallowing a particularly large bite. "Lamashtu has many other names, depending upon the species worshiping her. Not all of the translations are accurate, but the most common generic name for her is 'The Mother of All Monsters'." He strokes his chin thoughtfully.
"Lamashtu, That would explain the 'changes' evident in these sketches. And make Ehlissa's guess correct. Lamashtu is said to be the 'Mother of All Monsters', including monstrous abberations. I would say that this fits under that description."
Ehlissa continues to chew her lip as the discussion continues, looking at the door that Corran left through. When Slidell mentions her name, she looks round at the group and blinks.
"It seems to me that for the past two days, each of you in your own way has asked me to fill those empty chairs. I cannot. I am not Kuhrran. I am not Naelah," she looks at Slidell and glares for a split-second.
"It was an honest mistake,..." Slidell murmurs into his mug.
As Salome continues what is an unusually long speech, (for her), he remains unusually silent (for him), and listens. As the others begin to respond, he starts to smile. He manages to look embarrassed (with his personality, you weren't sure that he knew how to be!) when Vesh opens up and declares the group to be his family."Hm,... Well,... I don't know about family,..." Slidell speaks up. "I think that I might prefer friend. After all, you get to choose your friends, you,... don't get to choose your family." He finishes in a low voice, staring at something only he can see. After a moment he blinks, and smiles at the others like usual.
"Besides, I'm not yet intoxicated enough to bore you all with tales of my torrid childhood." Slidell said with a meaningful glance at his empty mug, followed by a pleading look at Bethana. He smiled engagingly at her return glare.
"But I think that the others have adequately expressed themselves regarding how welcome you are in this fellowship, regardless of mistaken identities,..." He clears his throat self-consciously. "All that is left is for me to repeat what I said when we first met. You are a person who helps others without a moment's hesitation or thought for yourself. That alone tells me what I need to know of your character. And I say 'welcome to the club'." He smiled and raised his newly-filled mug, (Courtesy of a still narrow-eyed Bethana), towards her.
"Add to that Malcolm's accurate observation of your skills in combat, and I think we should be asking you to join us, instead of just assuming you would want too." He looked around the table at the others. "We managed to fall together in the middle of the goblin attack, and somehow all the pieces of this group just fit together. We didn't think that everybody might not feel the same way,... right away." He smiled.
"If you feel called to help those in need, then you have been steered to the right place. Because we certainly seem to need your help, and I have a suspicion that we haven't seen all there is to these mysteries yet. So please, pull up a chair, but we realize that it will be yours, not another's."
Slidell sits back, and takes a drink. He seems to have run out of things to say for the moment. Or maybe he just got thirsty, but he sits and looks around the table, smiling happily.
Neither smiling nor frowning, Salome bows to the group, wondering for the umpteenth time that day what Sarenrae has in mind for her.
"If I am to fight with you, I need to know what is going on here. I know goblins attacked Sandpoint -- they attacked my caravan on the way here too. I know Ameiko was kidnapped by her half-brother but I still do not understand why. And now you are talking about this demon-girl who steals from graves, a Lamashtu creature, and Khurran said another strange name, Huraysho. Forgive my confusion, but if someone could explain a bit...?"
"Hm,... Well,... I don't know about family,..." Slidell speaks up. "I think that I might prefer friend. After all, you get to choose your friends, you,... don't get to choose your family . . . Besides, I'm not yet intoxicated enough to bore you all with tales of my torrid childhood."
Vesh can feel the heat rising on his face as Slidell speaks. Fool that I am, he thinks, always opening my mouth at the wrong time!
He only half listens to Slidell's offer of welcome to Salome and Salome's assent to join the group.
"Forgive my confusion, but if someone could explain a bit...?"
Vesh comes around at this question, as if returning from somewhere far away. He sighs, "I'm not sure how much we can explain."
"You have met the current priest of Desna, Father Zantus, at the Cathedral. His predecessor, Father Tobyn, and Father Tobyn's adopted daughter, Nualia, perished in the fire that consumed the old church."
"It seems that the goblin raid a few days ago was a highly coordinated attack that was designed to distract the guard from noticing that a body was being removed from the church graveyard--the body of Father Tobyn."
"When this merry band took it upon itself to examine the gravesite, we discovered that the grave marker indicated that Father Tobyn and his daughter were buried at the site, but it looked as though the grave only had room for one body, not two. Father Zantus and others confirmed that so little of Nualia's remains were recovered from the ruins of the fire that the grave was, indeed, as big as it needed to be."
Nodding at Slidell, Vesh continues, "We became suspicious that perhaps whatever remains they did find may not have belonged to Nualia at all, that perhaps she not only survived the fire but that she had a part to play in setting it. A suspicion that seemed very far-fetched until this." He holds up the paper with the drawing of the clawed woman. "Nualia. Or, at least I'd bet my life on it."
Vesh dips his finger in his wine, frowns, and traces a triangle on the table, "The goblins, Ameiko's half-brother, and Nualia are all interconnected. The question is how..." He looks up.
"Or, perhaps, why."
He sits back in his seat, deflated.
"The goblins, Ameiko's half-brother, and Nualia are all interconnected. The question is how..."
"Hmmm, Yes,... What's the connection?" Slidell echoes both Vesh's comment and tracing of the triangle pattern on the table top.
"Let's see, Nualia wants revenge upon Sandpoint, for what We don't know, but she feels so strongly about it that she wants to desecrate her father's remains as well as torch the town. Tsuto,... Apparently has issues with his father, but why join with Nualia? Hmm,..." He expounds intelligently, looking again at the pictures.
"Would you say that Nualia is human? These sketches may merely be flattering, but there is something not quite right about the face," Slidell asks, in an apparent change of topic. "Even if these are merely how she appears in his eyes,... Ah! THAT'S the connection! It's right here in front of us!" He smiles, pleased with himself.
"Tsuto is in love with Nualia," He declares, firmly drawing a line between two of the triangle points on the table, with a sideways glance at Vesh. "Why else spend so much time and energy on 'flattering' sketches? I hear that an enamored man would do almost anything for his beloved,... Wouldn't know myself,... But that explains that connection. The Goblins,... are fecund little creatures, come in fairly large groups which are relatively easy to control, especially if all you want from them is general destruction and mayhem, and they are a readily available local resource. They are involved because they were convenient. SO, Nualia takes command of the local tribes, and uses her,... boyfriend, as her field commander." Slidell finishes by connecting all three dots of the triangle.
Slidell sits back, smiling and looking generally pleased with himself. "Even if that's not 100% accurate, it is logical, makes sense, and fits with the clues we have." He grins happily.
"Now." He leans forward again, and with his still wet finger puts a mark in the center of the triangle. "Where does Horatio fit into all of this? Or does he at all?" He looks around at the others. "I find it a little disconcerting that this Horatio shows up basically right before the attack on Sandpoint. Yet despite his short time here, he somehow has enough clout to be named temporary commander in the Sheriff's absence. BUT, the first time he is needed during a time of high alert, he is nowhere to be found." He arches a thin eyebrow. "I believe I've already mentioned how much I Loooove coincidence." He says sarcastically. "But at the risk of repeating myself, even if he was hired as a 'special service' to track down this Scarzni, WHAT could be so important about them that he would put his duties aside during a time of crises? And WHO are these 'Scarzni' anyway?!"
"But at the risk of repeating myself, even if he was hired as a 'special service' to track down this Scarzni, WHAT could be so important about them that he would put his duties aside during a time of crises? And WHO are these 'Scarzni' anyway?!"
"Well," says Vesh, still leaning back in his chair, "In Varisian, the term means different things depending on who you talk to. Some think it means swagger or boast, like the Varisian word suaro or suara. Others think it means butcher, like carnzi. It's probably a little of both. True Chelish-borns simply call it 'the mob.'"
He looks up, thinking that he has explained everything. Seeing some blank looks, he continues. "They're a bunch of crooks. Highly organized, dangerous crooks."
Glancing at Malcolm, Vesh continues, "As for Horatio. I don't know. I mean, I simply don't remember the man. But if he's from Riddleport, and if he interacted with the Scarzni there...I just don't remember for sure."
"Of course," says Vesh contemplatively, "he might know me."
"In any case, there are Scarnzi here in Sandpoint." He takes a couple lock-picks out of his pocketed scarf and shows them to the group. "I bought these from them."
Slidell looks concerned when Vesh mentions dealing with the Scarzni for his tools. He opens his mouth to say something, apparently thinks better of it, closes his mouth and takes another drink.
"Tsuto always had poor taste in friends..." Ameiko begins tentatively, "and he has never had much love for Sandpoint. Of course it was obvious from the very beginning that my mother had an affair. This is a small town and news spread quickly that he was not my father's son. He took terrible abuse from the other boys - and even some of the adults. Of course the worst of it came from Lonjiku himself. Unable to get over the shame of Mother's indiscretion, Father ignored Tsuto. Pretended he didn't exist. Wouldn't speak to him or anything for years..."
"Thank you Ameiko," Slidell says softly. "Now we know what Tsuto's motivations are. Children will go to great lengths to get attention from their parents. The more they are denied that attention,... well,.." He takes another drink self-consciously, apparently not wanting to bring Ameiko any more discomfort.
"Nualia was an orphan. Taken in by Tobyn, she had a good home and a good upbringing. But she was different, too. Her eyes were bright purple and her features were not quite human. There were awful rumors about her: that she was a fey creature of some sort abandoned by her parents for looking too human. I did not know her well. Few did. She was very distant."
"Bright Purple,... Shining Hair,... Could it,... naw, but,... an Assimar?!?" Slidell mumbles. He looks up from his one-sided conversation to the others. "Ameiko, did anyone ever refer to Nualia as an Assimar?" After Ameiko's reply he continues. "An Assimar is supposed to be a descendant of an Angel. Yes. A real, honest to gosh angel. Or at least part-angel, like half-elves, only shinier." He tries to explain, for lack of a better description.
"If she was an Assimar, that might explain the 'distance', she wouldn't really fit in here. And if the kids here are like they are everywhere else,..." He drifts off for a second, obviously thinking about something, then shakes his head. "Well, good home or not, it would of at least been difficult." He strokes his chin, as if smoothing a goatee. "I have a feeling there's still ONE part of her story missing, one little thing that probably makes everything start to make sense,..."
"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm very tired and I have a busy day tomorrow. I think its about time this place opened up for business again. We've given the gossip mongers enough fodder for a few years, I think."
"Oh, if you would like, I will draw a sketch of the tunnels as I remember them. There is not much to it really, just that one side branch where you found me. If you had continued the other way, it would have lead you straight out to the cliff face. There is a cave there that is easy to find from below. The side passage used to be bricked up. At least it was 15 years ago. I don't know if Father opened it, or maybe Tsuto did. Anyway, I have never been down there, obviously."
Slidell perks up out of his contemplations, and smiles at Ameiko. "Of course. You still have a lot of work ahead of you with your new position. I wouldn't worry about the gossip though. An old barkeep once told me that you can never have TOO much gossip. Keeps everyone coming back to see if it's true or not. And as long as they are there, they'll need something to drink,..." He winks at Ameiko.
"I think that a map would be most useful, Thank you again. Good night." HE says as she takes her leave.
Slidell turns to the others. "Well, as much as I hate to stop when we're on a roll, unless somebody else has any ideas to shed some light on these mysteries, I'm going to bed too."
"I have a lot of preparations to get done over the next 2 days, and I need my beauty sleep to make sure I don't mis-quote a chant or scribble on a scroll. One time i accidentally mixed part of a burning hands evocation with a summoning chant on a scroll. The result was spectacular,... but it wasn't pretty." He smiles at what is obviously an amusing memory, then coughs self-consciously at some of the looks he is receiving. "Guess you had to be there." He mutters. He gives everyone a final goodnight, bows with a sweep of his cape to the ladies, retrieves his staff, and heads upstairs.
"I've had some dealings with em before too. Cunning bastards. Mostly amusers, thugs, and smugglers but they do some thievery and extortion too. You can't trust them but they usually got good connections and can get their hands on just about anything you'd want. Horatio's got his work cut out for him, if he isn't working for them already that is." I say with a wry chuckle.
Once Ameiko's explained Tsuto and Nualia I say "Two outcasts. Its no wonder they've banded together, especially if Nualia wasn't a happy child either. I guess there's no chance of parlay then." I say with a sigh "Revenge isn't usually especially rational. We probably can't divide a wedge between the two or inspire distrust either. Is there anyone who might know where Nualia came from? that could be useful information."
When Ameiko leaves I bid her goodnight and say "Anybody up for a jaunt to the Feedbag? The night's still young." with a bright smile.
When Ameiko leaves I bid her goodnight and say "Anybody up for a jaunt to the Feedbag? The night's still young." with a bright smile.
Though she would normally decline, Salome finds herself experiencing a strange mixture of revulsion and curiosity. "I will come," she says, and veils her face.
At the questioning looks from the others, she feigns surprise. "What? Every city has its underbelly. It is where I grew up. And I can certainly take care of myself."
"Splendid, glad you know you've a sense of fun. Anyone else coming? I'm buying." I say, grinning and making my way to the door.
Ehlissa shakes her head and smiles sadly. She slips away quietly to return to her lodgings, trying not to be noticed.
At the questioning looks from the others, she feigns surprise. "What? Every city has its underbelly. It is where I grew up. And I can certainly take care of myself."
Vesh smiles. "It's not that..." He says. "Is the veil traditional garb for a trip to the underbelly, or were you hoping that it would make you seem less conspicuous?"
He stands to join Salome and Malcolm. "Ready?"
Salome raises an eyebrow at her tatooed and pierced companion. "I do not expect you to understand," she says just a little too patiently, and sighs as she turns away and walks out the door as Vesh and Malcolm hurry to catch up.
"Your best ale, somethin from Riddleport if you've got it." I shout to the barman, pushing a couple of silvers across the bar and nodding to Salome and Vesh "Put em' on my tab." I take my mug from the surly barkeep with a nod and survey the boisterous customers with a grin "Just like home eh?"
Salome raises an eyebrow at her tatooed and pierced companion. "I do not expect you to understand," she says just a little too patiently, and sighs as she turns away and walks out the door as Vesh and Malcolm hurry to catch up.
Vesh smiles and turns a side-long glance to Malcolm and says, "I think she's warming to me. I really do."
He turns and starts after her, disappears out the door, and can be heard saying, "Wait! Wait! All joking aside, is the veil part of the customary...," before his voice fades away as he turns a corner.
"Your best ale, somethin from Riddleport if you've got it." I shout to the barman, pushing a couple of silvers across the bar and nodding to Salome and Vesh "Put em' on my tab." I take my mug from the surly barkeep with a nod and survey the boisterous customers with a grin "Just like home eh?"
"Home!" Says Vesh to Malcolm. He takes a drink and continues, "Not that again! If you'll recall, I think I have already declared you to be my home," he turns to Salome, "and you to be my newly adopted sister."
He grins and blushes despite himself. "I thought I was inspiring." He takes another drink.
"Your best ale, somethin from Riddleport if you've got it." I shout to the barman, pushing a couple of silvers across the bar and nodding to Salome and Vesh "Put em' on my tab." I take my mug from the surly barkeep with a nod and survey the boisterous customers with a grin "Just like home eh?"
"Home!" Says Vesh to Malcolm. He takes a drink and continues, "Not that again! If you'll recall, I think I have already declared you to be my home," he turns to Salome, "and you to be my newly adopted sister."
He grins and blushes despite himself. "I thought I was inspiring." He takes another drink.
"Sandpoint may be my port of call for now, but I'll always call Riddleport home. Even if I ne're again see that fair city or pass through the Gate's shadow as I dock it'll always be home an' I'll always be her son. Still to family! New and old, adopted and by blood" I say, raising my mug in a toast. "And you're getting better at the inspiring thing." I add as an afterthought.
"Home!" Says Vesh to Malcolm. He takes a drink and continues, "Not that again! If you'll recall, I think I have already declared you to be my home," he turns to Salome, "and you to be my newly adopted sister."
Salome raises her eyebrow again, but smiles, chuckling to herself. It's amazing how a little to drink will suddenly make people feel as if they are life-long friends! She however, does not imbibe, instead watching the people milling about and catching bits of conversation.
"Do you have brothers or sisters?" she asks, noticing a few couples who have suddenly become very familiar with each other. Then she looks at Vesh. "Most of the customers here look like your people. A lot of people. Aside from market day, is there something special going on?" She looks around again. "And what do their markings mean?"
"Do you have brothers or sisters?"
It is Vesh's turn to smile. "Asking a Varisian if he has brothers and sisters is like asking if a dog has teeth." He relents, "Yes. I am one of seven children. I have four sisters and two brothers. Quite a brood for city-born folk, but small for Varisians who hold to the old ways."
"Most of the customers here look like your people. A lot of people. Aside from market day, is there something special going on?"
"Hmm. Yes." Vesh says looking around, "These are Varisians, to be sure. But they are not my people. There are no families from the Uplands here that I see. Varisians are clanish if nothing else, which is why they're all gathered here, together."
"Most are likely holdouts from the festival. When you're nomadic, you get to enjoy setting your own comings-and-goings. Kind of nice, really. If you find a nice spot, you stay. If it rains, you pull-up stakes and follow the sun."
She looks around again. "And what do their markings mean?"
"The markings?" he asks. "The tattoos you mean? They can mean almost anything. Some have personal meaning; some show family affiliation or delineate a role in the clan. Some, like mine, indicate a connection to the arcane." He reflexively touches his arm, and then shrugs.
"Mostly, they are just beautiful to look at."
A few of the Varisians gather and produce musical instruments, as they start to play, the crowd moves tables back and clears an impromptu, if cramped, dance floor. Vesh stands wide-eyed and a grin spreads across his face making him look younger, if that's possible.
"Ha!" He exclaims excitedly. Looking at Salome he says, "This is Varisian, Salome bajAtru! Warring clans will put aside feuds that have lasted for generations just to play music and dance for a night! Come," Vesh says, "if you want to know more about 'my people,' then it is time to dance!" And moving deftly to her side, he gently but swiftly takes her hand and intends for her to rise and dance with him.
Ehlissa goes to her room and closes the door morosely. Ehlissa flops down on the bed, before burying her head in her hands. Great sobs start to emerge from young woman, as her eyes grow red, tears flowing freely. "It's not fair! It's not fair! Why?!"
Why are you crying?
It's not right! He, he - I thought - he said -
He follows a different path to you. He does what he must.
But it's not fair!
Who said it has to be?
But - first mother, then father, oh my daddy - when she died, his heart died too! And now Corran too.
He isn't dead, is he?
No but - everything I love gets taken away.
Isn't that life?
Well, yes, but... I've let them all down, I ran away rather than join the order. I've failed them all, and I've failed the goddess.
Is that what you really think?
I deserted father when he needed me most.
Yes. You did.
But I've made a difference here, haven't I.
Yes. You have.
Then where should I go, what should I do?
You go where you must.
This is too hard! It's too difficult! I don't want to do this anymore!
Another young woman said that once. She had lost her father, and had to make a difficult journey to defend her family. Any choice she made would be one filled with hardship.
I'm too weak, too proud, too angry too-
You are human. You are what you are.
I - who - are you... ?
You know who I am.
Lady-
Daughter. You are where you need to be. Be who your family need you to be. ALL your family. I shall be with you. Rest and rise in the morn: the journey is not yet done.
Was she mad? Tired? Falling into a dreamless sleep, such questions don't matter.
I also grin as the Varisians began to play their music "One thing that can be said for your people above all else, they know how to have a good time!" I say to Vesh, scanning the room for a comely lass with whom I can dance.
A few of the Varisians gather and produce musical instruments, as they start to play, the crowd moves tables back and clears an impromptu, if cramped, dance floor. Vesh stands wide-eyed and a grin spreads across his face making him look younger, if that's possible.
"Ha!" He exclaims excitedly. Looking at Salome he says, "This is Varisian, Salome bajAtru! Warring clans will put aside feuds that have lasted for generations just to play music and dance for a night! Come," Vesh says, "if you want to know more about 'my people,' then it is time to dance!" And moving deftly to her side, he gently but swiftly takes her hand and intends for her to rise and dance with him.
Salome looks into the young man's face, attempting to discern his motive. Seeing his enthusiasm at the music and dance of his culture, she smiles at his happiness -- a contrast to his habitual frown and furrowed brow -- and rises to dance. As she joins Vesh in the dance, she feels a slight pang of -- jealousy? poignancy? regret? -- at her missed chance to enjoy a carefree youth. At least I'm alive,she reminds herself. There was a time when I couldn't even imagine being twenty.
While the steps are new to her, she quickly picks up on the pattern and deftly moves to the rhythm of the music. She notices Vesh's apparent surprise. "You think only Varisians dance?" she asks. "There is little reason for celebration in Qadira these days, but my people have long told stories through dance. Besides, all good comes from Sarenrae. Would she not want us to show joy?"
After a few turns, however, Salome gets serious. "I have to ask you about Sir Malcolm," she says in a low whisper. "I have heard stories of khorzhars who attack like bandits on the water. And after everyone talked about the Sczarni, he suggested we come to this tavern. What does he do? Why do you think he is here?"
When they return to their table, Salome addresses Vesh. "Thank you. If I am your "adopted sister," then you make a good "little brother," she jokes, as he is obviously much taller and larger than she.
Then she bows to Malcolm. "It was a good evening. Thank you for the invitation." She leaves her drink untouched and walks through the night to the White Deer Inn.
Then she bows to Malcolm. "It was a good evening. Thank you for the invitation." She leaves her drink untouched and walks through the night to the White Deer Inn.
"Twas an honor to have you. Figured I should get to know you a little better since you're with us now eh? I say, giving something that vaguely resembles a salute as a goodnight.
Ehlissa wakes up, feeling the most refreshed that she has felt in a while. She looks in the mirror briefly, and then goes downstairs, and after procuring some scissors or shears from one of the staff, returns to her room.
Once there she undoes her long hair from the usual arrangement that holds it together (it reaches to the mid-point of her back) and proceeds to cut it short.
Collecting the shorn hair together, she wraps it up in some cloth. She returns the cutting implements and goes to meet the rest of the group.
You will be there, I hope. We are having a service outside the glassworks, then carrying the body down to the sea to a traditional Minkai burial ship."
"Of course I'll be there."
"Of course I'll be there."You will be there, I hope. We are having a service outside the glassworks, then carrying the body down to the sea to a traditional Minkai burial ship."
"Yes, I shall too."
Vesh is elated as he whirls about the dance floor with Salome.
Salome gets serious. "I have to ask you about Sir Malcolm," she says in a low whisper. "I have heard stories of khorzhars who attack like bandits on the water. And after everyone talked about the Sczarni, he suggested we come to this tavern. What does he do? Why do you think he is here?"
"A pirate? Malcolm? Perhaps. More likely, he's a smuggler who has run aground."
When they return to their table, Salome addresses Vesh. "Thank you. If I am your "adopted sister," then you make a good "little brother," she jokes, as he is obviously much taller and larger than she.
"Ha! You are a better dancer than either of my older sisters! Thank you for the honor of dancing with me." Vesh bows. "Good night, Salome. See you tomorrow."
Vesh disappears, absorbed by another turn of the dance. He claps and spins with the Varisians until the wee hours of the morning.
Despite his eagerness and excitement over the prospect of his enchanting on the morrow, Slidell quickly falls into a deep slumber. His dreams rapidly fade from the usual rapidly congealed blur that is his version of his life, into a solid, if ephemeral setting.
The room he finds himself in is strangely distorted, and yet oddly familiar. He stands before a figure seated at ease in a large divan, sipping a drink. LIke the room, the figure is oddly distorted, yet not frightening due to it's familiarity. Also like the room, the details of the figure are impossible to grasp and hold onto. Trying to remember the color of the robe, or even if he is wearing a robe or breeches, is like trying to hold a bucketful of water in your hands.
'So Slidell. You have been busy I see. And how do your studies progress?'
"Well, I believe I have almost mastered the requirements for the casting of spells of the second order. Although,..."
'Yes?'
"There is something else, something i can almost grasp every time I cast a spell, but it is always just out of reach. It is frustrating. I KNOW I can do it, but I'm not even sure what IT is."
'And what are you going to do about it?'
Slidell shrugged. "Keep trying, I guess."
'Wrong answer.' The voice answered, clearly disappointed.
"What should I do?"
'Whatever you wish. Just remember. The right path is not always the easiest. Or even the best. Sometimes one must sacrifice being the best, in order to realize his true potential.'
"That makes no sense. Even to me."
'It will. Now you should rest. I see you have a busy day planned for tomorrow, in preparation for,... Wrathspawn? Very curious.'
"I thought so."
'Guard yourself well. You know that I need you to return, Intact.'
"I will remember."
'No. You won't.'
Was that a smile he heard in the voice?
'Sleep well, Slidell.' Said the figure as it reached out and touched Slidell lightly between the eyes.
"Thank you. Master." Slidell responded, snuggling into his pillow.
Slidell Awoke surprisingly refreshed, and looked at the raven upside down on the headboard. His brow furrowed, followed by a slight frown, as he realized something was not quite right.
"That's odd." He told Veran. "Usually I can remember My dreams accurately, good or bad. But I don't remember anything from last night. Hm. I must have slept like a rock. No wonder I feel so good."
"Too bad you still snore like a Human." The smart-aleck Raven replied.
Sticking out his tongue, Slidell stretched, eyes widening in surprise as the expected twinge from his bite wound didn't occur. A quick examination showed it to be completely healed except for the scar.
"Wow. A good night's rest really will work wonders."
After perusing his spellbook for a few moments, he rapidly began digging out items from his pack and the pockets of his cloak. Pulling up the sleeves of his nightshirt, hair disheveled and sticking out every which way, he turned to Veran with both hands full of incense, vials of powdered silver, and other assorted flotsam and jetsam of arcane gobbledygook.
"Now, Let's make some MAGIC!" He grins.
You will be there, I hope. We are having a service outside the glassworks, then carrying the body down to the sea to a traditional Minkai burial ship."
"Of course I'll be there."
"Yes, I shall too."
"Yes," says Vesh between mouthfuls, "I'll be there as well."
Just before dawn, Salome offers her prayers at the cathedral and enjoys the warmth of the rising sun stream through the window. As she stands and rolls her prayer rug, she realizes that she feels unusually content today.
From the cathedral, she goes to the market to make her purchases (upgrade shield, CLW potions, Consecrate scroll and components for scroll and enchantment). Nodding recognition to Vesh and Slidell, she accepts their invitation to join the group at the White Deer Inn for dinner again. She spends the rest of the morning at the cathedral, enchanting her new shield and dedicating its use to Sarenrae.
When she finishes her ritual, Father Zantus approaches her, complimenting her on her precision and dedication to her goddess. "Where do you see your vocation taking you?" he asks.
Salome stops short. No one ever asked that before. Not even Mejjur De, and he wanted to know everything about everyone. On the other hand, if she had told him, certainly he would have placed every possible stumbling block in her way...
Hardly daring to say it out loud, she lowers her head. "I want to be a Radiant Servant of Sarenrae," she whispers. "There is so much pain and suffering in this world. I want to heal and protect those who need it."
The priest nods. "To relieve suffering is the call for many. As the power of evil grows stronger in this world, there is a call for greater and stronger good. But I hear that your abilities are not strictly, shall we say, defensive," he smiles kindly, but knowingly. Did someone tell him about the jimmarrae in the cave? she wonders. Or is there something else he knows about me?
"Come with me," says the priest. "I have something to show you."
At dinner that night, she accepts Ameiko's invitation to the funeral and agrees to check the tunnels with the others.