Guardians of the Old Light


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The Exchange

Considering how much I have written for our Runelords game as a player, and how much a couple of the other players have liked it, I thought I'd share. I will tuck into spoiler tags to keep the page reasonable and to keep the secrets. Most of my writing starts from the point of view of Qakisst, obviously, so I will start with his origin stories.

Yeah, I said it. Stories.

The Exchange

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The Wish:

Life is hard, and endlessly long when you are a planes-touched outsider in Qadira. Some people that think their childhood was endless drudgery have been born, grown old, and died in the short time that Qakisst has been alive. Fortunately for the young ifrit he had not had to grow up on the streets of Sedeq or Katheer. Nor was he purchased in the slave markets of Katapesh. Unfortunately he had been born to a father of such unsurpassed greed as to deny his own children in the name of profit. Bekyar Mimnani had been born to a Keleshite noble woman and her Mwangi slave; which made him a citizen of Qadira, but he had always chaffed at the fact that his slave father’s blood denied him noble birthright. A birthright he ironically denied to his own children without thought.
Bekyar favored his father’s skin tone which made it clear that his noble titles were not birthrights, but had been earned by hard work and hard won political connections. His mother’s line was laced with the sorcerous heritage of elemental blood that had granted him personal power allowing him to cultivate political connections and power enough to achieve his own titles even with slave ancestry. His status as a citizen first, and then a noble even though not inherited title, should have granted freedom to his own children even with their mother being an otherworldly slave. But Bekyar’s love for wealth and power had overwhelmed good sense. When he had conjured and bound the efreeti called Sssastiss into slavery he had forced her to obey his every word. Unable to deny Bekyar’s claims that her children were fathered by other house slaves; Sssastiss was forced to endure year after year as this vile human that used dark magic to force her into his bed would then bind his own daughters with the intent to sell them as soon as they were old enough to bring good profit. For more than ten years Sssastiss birthed only daughters to her tormentor; and Bekyar was pleased with his slave.
Shortly after she had been bound as his slave for twelve years, Sssastiss gave birth to a son. Bekyar was enraged. Slave girls could be sold for good money as soon as they began to show feminine traits. For slow aging people like a half blood ifrit that could be as little as ten years or as many as forty. Slave boys would not be sellable until they were strong enough to be capable of hard labor. While that might be as few as fifteen years it was more likely to be fifty. What angered Bekyar was not so much the delayed profit, but the cost of feeding and training a slave boy to be useful in any way.
When Bekyar had conjured Sssastiss from the elements and bound her he had done so with no intent of using her physically. He had done so to gain control of her genie power to grant him wishes. When first casting the conjurings required to summon and bind Sssastiss, Bekyar had expected the summoned creature to exhibit masculine traits as was most common. What he got was a passionate and fiery woman of unearthly beauty. Bekyar would not be denied such beauty and he used the magical contract to force her to his bed.
Once each year the magical contract that bound Sssastiss compelled her to use her magical powers to grant Bekyar anything he wished for. In the first few years he had learned the hard way to be careful what he wished for. Efreet are notoriously good at perverting the intent of an unwelcome master’s wish. Sssastiss relished inflicting Bekyar’s own wishes upon him even knowing that he would punish her greatly for perverting his desires. When the New Year came after Qakisst’s birth Bekyar planned his wish with what he thought was great care. “I wish that without changing anything about myself you, Sssastiss, be incapable of birthing sons from my blood!” Bekyar had screamed the wish at his slave believing himself triumphant but Sssastiss had smiled at him as she did each year when he made his wish known.
“As my Master commands, so shall it be.” Sssastiss nodded politely from her seat in the nursery where she had been tending to her daughters and her only son. Over the next few years Bekyar realize his mistake. No matter how often he inflicted himself on his slave, Sssastiss bore no more children to him.
Over the years Bekyar often mused to himself that he should have been angry over this, but Sssastiss’ children were an annoyance and would only bring profit after an extended time. And while Bekyar himself was highly resistant to even magical fire thanks to his own sorcerous power, none of his other slaves could have survived the inferno that surrounded Sssastiss when she did not wish to be touched. While Sssastiss was beautiful beyond compare, few men would be willing to lay with her once word got out about how the last suitor burst into flames when he touched her. In his mind, this was better. Only he could resist the inferno to impose himself upon her making Sssastiss his and his alone; and he would no longer have to put up with the year of unwanted pregnancy to have her either.
With time though, mortals age. Bekyar had within him a spark of elemental power, but not so much that he was not himself human. He aged and grew old as his children barely managed to reach adolescence. When Bekyar had first bound Sssastiss to him he had been old and had already used her power to grant himself renewed youth, but such youth was limited. As powerful as the Genie were, even they could not grant immortal life. For a time Sssastiss even began to hope that her Master would grow soft in age and at least grant his own children freedom even if he would never return hers. But as her oldest daughter approached forty years of age and began to bud with the first changes that mark the beginning of adulthood Bekyar proved that nothing softened his heart. One at a time he sold off his own daughters as slaves, denying any heritage or hope of freedom.
The lives of her daughters had been soft for a slave, but Sssastiss’ daughters were slaves. They would be bound to a master and likely forced to warm a bed. This thought brought tears to Sssastiss each night. The efreet relish their freedom to the point of selfishness and the knowledge that her children would be forever bound was devastating. But the life that awaited her son made her shutter. The small and short ifriti child had been a nuisance to the man he had been raised to call Master. As soon as he had been big enough to assist, Qakisst’s Master had put him to work with the house blacksmith with the expectation that hard work would make the boy a mountain of a man that would fetch good value at market. From the age of ten until he was over forty years a child, Qakisst worked hard in the foundry of his Master, but he never became the great mountain of valuable slave flesh Bekyar wanted to send to market. By a fluke of fate Qakisst favored some unknown Azer ancestry in his Master’s bloodline in height and in talent. He would have one day made a valuable slave due to his talents as a smith except for his own father’s impatience to have him grow up and be gone.
The faint Azer ancestry that had granted Bekyar his sorcerous power not only made Qakisst short for his apparent age, but gave him his talent for work in the forge. A Talent that the blacksmith bound to Bekyar’s house had recognized. The older Mwangi smith, Tabansi had recognized the talent as he had worked with the boy over the decades and had done his best to encourage it; hoping that their Master would see the value in the eternal youth and grant them both some measure of free action Tabansi trained the young boy well; but Bekyar’s dark mind never saw the silver that lined so many things in his life. Despite his long years, extended by genie magic, Bekyar’s greed made him impatient and impetuous. Shortly before the start of his fourth decade Qakisst had the misfortune to ruin a newly forged pair of scimitar that Bekyar had planned as gifts. The error of angering the father that was his Master brought on yet another all too common beating.
The date was One Abadius in the year 4688, only minutes after midnight. Bekyar had grown old and careless in his extended age. He had been nearly seventy years old as a human when he had bound Sssastiss as his slave and had used her magic to make himself a young man again, but even genie magic could only hold age at bay for so long. Time and ego had made him careless and Bekyar had forgotten the date in his rage. It had been one year since his last wish had been forced from Sssastiss and she was only too happy to grant him his latest wish, “I wish I could be rid of you at last you worthless bastard.” The shouted explicative echoed throughout his estate. As Bekyar commenced beating the boy with a hot iron stoker Sssastiss erupted from the fire of the forge unexpectedly. Tabansi grabbed Qakisst and pulled him free of his Master’s grasp as the Efreet took on monstrous proportions.
“As my Master commands, so shall it be.” Sssastiss smiled a wicked smile that terrified Qakisst and Tabansi. Sssastiss’ body became as fire and enveloped Bekyar, even as he turned to her stunned by her comment. Without touching the boy or his trainer the fire drug the unprepared sorcerer away from Qakisst and Tabansi. She had used his own wish to shatter the magical power that bound her to Bekyar’s will with the intent that this be his last. His death would bring fulfillment of his own wish by freeing Bekyar from any responsibility for her son as he wanted. Even unprepared, Bekyar was a master binder of genie kind and the arcane dual between the aged but experienced sorcerer, and the immortal genie tore Bekyar’s estate apart brick by brick. Qakisst crawled away from his parents in terror, screaming for his mother even as sand and stone separated from the walls and floor of the foundry and showered the area. He found himself drug free of the building by Tabansi even as the roof collapsed upon the battle but the torrent of sand and fire did not stop. It expanded until it engulfed the entire estate shattering buildings and sending slaves and servants scattering into the surrounding village before the storm of white hot debris collapsed in upon itself.
Moments later, smoke rose from the debris and coalesced into the form of Sssastiss as the survivors of the noble house looked on in terror. Wizards and sorcerers capable of containing a genie would be several minutes before they could arrive in the dark night from the nearby city of Katheer and Sssastiss had no intent of being here when they came. But what would become of her son? Her last child? She would not leave him to slavery in this mad land. She looked around to see the house slaves cowering in the ruins of the once proud estate that had been her prison for nearly sixty years until she found her son cowering with the Mwangi smith, “Tabansi, you have ever been kind to my son. I grant you a boon. Your children will be touched with fire and freedom.” Sssastiss brushed her hand across Tabansi’s hand as she took that of her child from him. The Mwangi smith felt fire and warmth grace his soul and the years melted away from his body. Sssastiss felt searing pain surge through her entire body.
Even in death, Bekyar would not share his slave’s power. Sssastiss had been able to use his wish against Bekyar to break the enchantments that prevented her from attacking him, but had not known how many layers of magical bindings the evil man had imposed upon her. The simple act of using her power to grant mortal wishes for anybody other than Bekyar triggered the curse that crippled Sssastiss forever; stripping her of the gift that allowed her to warp reality to the wishes of mortals. Tabansi would never know that his silent desire to raise his own family in freedom had cost Sssastiss most of her power. He would only know that he now stood in the open grasslands in the north of Qadira a young and vibrant man, free to make his own destiny. With time his children would be touched by the gift of fire that even now began to die in Sssastiss.
Sssastiss felt the fire dampened and chained within her soul. She knew that her kindness had just condemned her to life in this mortal world. But she was not powerless. Still surrounded by the destruction of her dead Master’s home she grabbed her son’s hand and the two of them shrank to truly childlike proportions and slipped into the night. It would take the two refugees four years to escape across the northern frontier of Qadira and across neighboring Taldor, through Andoran, and across Cheliax. She no longer had the power to see all of her children free, but she would see this one to safety. He was her Hearth Heart and her love for him had won her freedom even as it had caged her to this world.

The Exchange

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The Boar Spear:

The Spring of 4692 was cold and wet. A miserable time for a child to be wandering homeless out of the mountains south of Korvosa, but Qakisst’s memory told him that he had little choice. Their limited gear was unsuited to winter weather and the storm that had caught Qakisst and his mother unprepared in the mountain pass on the road to Korvosa had nearly killed them both in the open. Armed only with a stolen boar spear and Ssstastiss’s damaged efreet powers the pair knew that they had to make it through the Mindspin Mountain pass before the pass closed or they would perish. The cave had looked like a gift from Sarenrae, shelter from the deadly late winter storm, until the massive man staggered out of the darkness in the back of the cavern. The behemoth bellowed in rage and surged forward to attack the hapless pair. The grazing blow knocked Ssstastiss from her feet and slammed Qakisst against the wall where he slumped to the ground dazed.
Even in her weakened state Ssstastiss was still an Efreet born outsider. Though it had been years since she had been allowed to do so, or needed to do so, Ssstastiss ’s body swelled with the power of her genie heritage. Her attacker no longer faced a small the wounded human that Ssstastiss appeared to be but a proud and towering Efreeti every bit as tall as he. Had she not been wounded and worn by her decades of subjugation, crippling escape from Qadira, and the devastating winter storm this bestial man would have been no match for Sssstastiss. Having exhausted her arcane powers over fire just to keep her and her half-blood son from freezing left Sssstastiss no choice but to trade blows with the brute. Even then, only weeks of starvation slowed Ssstastiss enough that the brutish giant was a match for her. Burnt and bloodied, the giant stood over the vanquished intruder only long enough to bellow his triumphant rage before he felt the bite of a white hot boar spear in his back and the first raging fire of the elemental born sorcerer that he had just orphaned.
Terrified, traumatized, and nearly frozen to death, Qakisst cradled his mother as she lay dying. “Fire,” his mother gasped through her ragged dying breath. Qakisst held her tight in confusion till his mother managed a weak gesture towards the scattered detritus throughout the back of the now dead giant’s cavern. Desperate, Qakisst martialed what flame he could from the still burning rags that covered the now dead giant’s corpse and built a fire to keep the storm’s cold at bay. Carefully he moved his mother next to the low fire hoping that the elemental warmth would help her. With great sorrow, Ssstastiss looked upon her son. The only one of her many children that she had managed to free from slavery. As cold light from the small fire shown in her eyes she whispered to her young son, “Be free Hearth-Heart.” As life faded from her eyes the elemental form of Ssstastiss shifted, wavered, then erupted in sparks that faded into the cold night singeing the young boy and leaving him alone. Numb, frozen tears clung to the young Ifriti’s face as the storm swallowed his cries.
When the storm finally broke, Qakisst knew that he had to find more secure shelter. The cold of the storm had kept the dead giant from smelling of rot, but with warmer days coming even the sheltered former slave boy knew that carrion eaters would arrive soon. He scavenged what little he could find of use in the dark cavern, wearing only the inert iron bands that had once bound his mother to servitude and a loose fitting tunic that did little to protect him from the cold, Qakisst set out across the pass and into the outer territories of the free city-state of Korsovo.
The journey down the mountain pass was unpleasant, but not difficult. Qakisst was used to long hours of hard work in his former master’s foundry. Even one without epic constitution could work for hours once trained to it so long as you did not push too hard. With the constant rain Qakisst did not expect much company on the trail so he trudged down the mountain road preferring to be clear of the mountains as quickly as possible; and for the better part of a week he was correct. But despite the rain, on the fifth day of his journey since leaving the cave where his mother had passed on to the realm of her ancestors Qakisst found himself facing four desperate and despicable men. Unlanded humans who had endured the worst of a harsh world and turned to raiding travelers crossing the Mindspin Mountain pass to survive set upon the young outsider despite the weather.
The rough and raged men jeered and harried Qakisst into a rock outcrop despite the wicked and too long boar spear the boy wielded with unexpected grace. Figuring the boy for an easy target the first of the brigands made the mistake of charging across the muddy road and discovered that the small child had been taught how to properly set his weapon against a charge. The spear pierced the man’s chest holding him at bay and he collapsed to the ground screaming. If the three remaining men had possessed range weapons the fight would have been over in seconds, but in desperation and anger they pressed their attack against the desperate child while he crouched within the rocks terrified. Unable to hold three at bay with his spear, Qakisst found himself battered and cut severely across the abdomen by one of his attackers when he felt the heat of his Mother’s blood surge up within himself once more. Fire leapt from the wounded boy’s hands and engulfed the attacker despite the steadily falling rain. Before the man hit the ground he was dead. The two remaining brigands grabbed their first compatriot in panic and made to flee the obviously demonic child but wounded and terrified, Qakisst did not allow them to flee. He unleashed all the hatred and bile within his heart after years of torment and trial burning the flesh from the remaining brigands who collapsed; smoldering bodies writhing on the ground until death ended their pain.
Still bleeding, slowly dying from the wound Qakisst’s boar spear had inflicted, the first brigand begged for mercy from the small boy. “I cannot save you,” Qakisst said in stilted Taldan. “You are bleeding into your lung and there is nothing I can do about it. If you tell me where your camp is, I will show mercy.” Still the dying brigand begged for help. “Your camp. I will grant mercy if you tell me where it is.”
“There,” the dying man pointed over the road towards a hillside, “It’s over there.” Qakisst rose, grabbed his spear and turned towards the hillside path leading off the main road. “Please!” the dying man gurgled in pain as Qakisst walked away.
The boy paused, “Did you see the pain that your friend endured when I burned his face off? Letting you drown in your own blood is mercy.” Holding his own wounds, Qakisst walked the barely passable trail left by the men to their camp. Once there he found the scattered and meager belongings of the four men. A hand full of farm implements and supplies in a ramshackle cabin confirmed for Qakisst that the quartet that had attacked him had turned desperate, but were not skilled brigands. More likely they were failed common farmers who in desperation thought that they could enhance their wealth from an occasional traveler. Qakisst was at once sympathetic and horrified by the choice the men had made. He understood desperate. He understood the need to do whatever you had to do to survive; and yet the idea of attacking the unsuspecting and innocent simply to save oneself revolted the young boy. Carefully he picked through the would-be brigands’ belongings before returning to the road.
The rain let up finally as Qakisst returned to the main road. There laying in a pool of their own blood the brigands lay pale, bloodied, and burnt. Carefully examining the bodies, Qakisst selected the best pair of boots to replace the raged wrappings that had protected his feet. Tying the boots properly proved an interesting challenge but Qakisst quickly mastered a basic knot before inspecting the other cloths that were still functional on the quartet of corpses. The armor and weapons owned by the men proved truly limited. Rusted swords with broken and mismatched bits of armor. Of use, all the men had on them were the too large boots, a bloodied pair of worker’s chaps, a worn and tattered cloak, a pair of blunted daggers that made the trained smith in Qakisst cringe, a hand full of coins, and a chainmail haramaki that hadn’t even saved the life of the first attacker. Had Qakisst struck low on his first attacker, the belt likely would have saved the man’s life and it would be Qakisst laying in a pool of his own blood.
Better equipped, though still little more than a vagabond, Qakisst set off on the road to Korvosa once more. As the valley opened up before the trade road Qakisst walked along he saw farmland stretch out before him along the road. Curious farmers looked up occasionally from their work, but none stared too long. The now cloaked figure of Qakisst simply did not draw attention at a distance. Up close the budding bull like horns and ruddy reddish skin that marked Qakisst an elemental outsider would likely insight cries of terror among the simple farm folks. In his escape from Qadira with his mother Qakisst had long ago learned that outside the burning sun of his homeland his kind were viewed with distrust, fear, even hatred. At one point they had entertained the idea that traveling west to Cheliax might find the pair respite as Cheliax was known for a greater than normal population of halfblooded outsiders like himself, but reality quickly relieved them of that delusion. The felborn tieflings of Cheliax were treated as little more than unwanted vermin and elemental born ifriti were unlikely to be treated any better. Worse still, the devil summoning wizards of Cheliax were just as likely to attempt to contain his mother as the genie binding sorcerers of Qadira and just as skilled in binding outsiders to this material plane of existence. Having fled Qadira across Taldor and Andoran neither Qakisst of his mother had any intentions of returning to slavery. That had given the pair no place to go but north towards the free states beyond the nation of Nidal in the land called Varisia.

The Exchange

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The Shingles: part I:

Some weeks it just does not pay to crawl out from the attic. Today was one of those days. Living space in the upper attic hideaways in the Shingles of Korvosa were at a premium among the poor. That Qakisst had found a small crawlspace out of the way within one of the row house rooftops along the shingle roads that was small enough so nobody else looked there was itself impressive. That he had been able to keep it quietly secure for nearly four months was an honest miracle; but that miracle had come to an end. With winter coming and repeated rains soaking the town the actual owner of the house under this section of the shingle roads had decided that it was time to fix his roof. While Qakisst had continued to pack his essential belongings and take them with him as he worked each day, he had stashed away bedding and blankets, as well as a few trinkets in his attic space, and surely the workers had found them and reported the find to their employer. Fortunately city watchmen searching the shingle roads always stand out and Qakisst strolled past the searchers, glancing only peripherally.
Even minding his own, Qakisst stood out to all around. The boy’s otherworldly heritage had begun to show itself more than three decades ago with his ruddy dark complexion and now it was impossible to hide the nearly six inch long bull like horns that protruded from his brow. Even pulling the hood of his cloak up could not hide the horns as they extended forward and up above brilliant brass colored eyes. One of the watchmen stopped Qakisst by the arm and Qakisst immediately looked down, “Tiefling, what are you doing up here?”
“Trying to find my way back to the temple shelter of Nethys, m’lord.” Qakisst replied in his somewhat stilted Qadiran accent. “I’m still not used to all the paths along the shingle, Sir.”
“The mad wizard? Should have known one of your kind would follow such power.” The guard pushed Qakisst away towards the edge of the wooden roadway but youthful agility allowed the young ifrit to shift his weight enough to keep his balance on the un-railed rooftop walkway.
“Most assuredly, m’lord. The elemental born cannot help but seek magic, as you say.” Qakisst bowed respectfully, even as he put forth the subtle rebuke to the watchman’s ignorance of half-born outsiders, and backed away from the guardsman and his compatriots who were still searching the surrounding roof tops. As soon as the young boy was out of arm’s reach of any guards he turned back up the road and headed in the direction of the temple of Nethys hoping to make it to shelter before the doors closed. The watchman was not the only one ignorant of otherworldly half-born, and it was entirely possible that the temple watch would not allow him in after dark.
It was not without reason that most of Korvosa’s population did not know the difference between an elemental born ifrit and a fel born tiefling. The dark heritage of tieflings were as varied as all the races of Golarion and the results of mixing the blood of fiends with humanity could not be predicted. More than a hand full of tieflings had ruddy reddish skin and horns like a bull. Many tieflings had even more in common than that with the ifrit. Most members of both groups were somewhat resistant to fire, a trait that Qakisst had not yet mastered, and many tieflings would produce fire just as Qakisst could. The arcane talent of sorcery was also common in both, though the bloodline gifts given to each tended to divert greatly. Qakisst had learned early in his days in Kosovo not to argue about his ancestry. The more he objected the more people insisted he must be fel born to be so rude as to question his betters. More importantly tieflings were not exactly unheard of in Korvosa, and insulting them by insisting that you were not so bad that you were fel born risked alienating potential allies. As the not insignificant tiefling population of Korvosa had considerable power in the back alleys and dark corners of the city alienating them meant moving on for a homeless youth like Qakisst. Having already endured the open road, Qakisst was not eager to find himself force outside the city gates by antagonizing anybody.
Rain started slowly as Qakisst trudged across the shingle roads. By the time he made it to the ground level entrance to the temple of Nethys he was tired and soaked through, but the gates were already locked. With some level of frustration and despair Qakisst pulled on the bell cord outside the gate. Waiting in the rain, steam rising from his warm ifrit skin, Qakisst fumed under his breath. He had not had to seek shelter in one of the temples in months and had not wanted too if he could help it. Most of the homeless were either too young humans that would be shuffled off to an orphanage if they could be rounded up, or poor and unskilled workers that were so desperate that many would just as soon kill you for your shoes as look at you. Nearly fifteen months earlier in the temple shelter of Asmodeus more than one had tried before Qakisst found his hiding space along the shingles and learned which temples were safe and which not. Fortunately for Qakisst one of the other homeless children, a young tiefling girl called Nychell had taken pity on the cute young stranger and covered the attackers in darkness long enough for him to get away with his shoes still on his feet and his throat uncut.
It was Nychell who showed him around the temple shelters and warned him whom to steer clear of and Nychell who showed him how to access the shingle road. When the subject of his accent and heritage came up she was only slightly miffed to find that he was not a fel born like herself but an elemental born ifrit. For months the two were nearly inseparable, though Qakisst felt pretty sure that there was more that Nychell wanted than just a friend. Her insistence of calling him Pretty Boy both annoyed and pleased him in a way Qakisst just didn’t quite understand. Her insistence that they could steal any food they needed annoyed him even more; just as his insistence of getting honest work annoyed her. While Nychell continued running the streets with a rough and tumble crowd of would-be gangsters Qakisst found work where his elemental power serve him well manning the bellows at a blacksmith’s. But the two quickly became something Qakisst had never had, fast friends.
The camaraderie lasted just over six months, until Nychell was caught slipping out of a warehouse with her gang of street thieves while Qakisst was working at the bellows. At first, when Nychell and her gang did not return to their hideaway that evening Qakisst had no idea why. When the guard came knocking that evening it was all too clear. Fortunately Qakisst had been unable to sleep for worry and heard the guard pound down the makeshift doorway to their hiding place. The few other urchins that had taken residence with their group scattered, but most were quickly caught. Qakisst, with his otherworldly eyesight slipped out in the darkness with tears in his eyes. He would only see Nychell one more time; in the public court as she and many others went before the Magistrate and were sentenced for theft, five years hard labor. The sentence struck Qakisst like a hammer. For the poor five years just as well be a life sentence. Tears once more filled Qakisst’ s eyes and he pushed forward in the crowd, desperate for some way to save his only friend when she turned back toward the crowd, “Be free, Pretty Boy” she whispered. “Be free, and one day I’ll find you.”
The memory of his last time in a temple shelter shook him. Tears welled in his bright brass eyes as the keeper, cloak pulled tight against the wet, cold night, appeared at the gate. Upon seeing him the man blanched. “No more room, boy” the man snarled.
“Please Sir, I don’t need bedding. Only a dry place for the night” Qakisst pleaded with the gnarled old man.
“No room, tiefling.” The gatekeeper spat. Qakisst held his tongue and did not challenge the man’s erroneous assumption. Instead he trudged into the night in search of shelter.
The cold winds of autumn mixed with the rain soaked Qakisst to the core, and even the ever present steam that normally surrounded him in wet weather died away. Only with his mother’s death the previous spring had Qakisst felt this cold and alone. After walking for hours in the rain the young boy finally found shelter wedged between two buildings, but that only covered him against the rain. The cold soaked through his bones and Qakisst spent the night shivering and cold. Without firewood he could set to blaze safely his sorcerous power did him little good and likely would burn down half the city. The thought amused Qakisst, “At least I would be warm” he mused aloud. When the sun finally began to lift over the eastern horizon it was still hidden behind back bloated rainclouds; and the city still stood unburnt.
A miserable and half frozen Qakisst drug himself to work with the morning crowds; managing to buy a pinch of bread with what little copper he had left before payday. While work was always hard it was never cold and Qakisst was eternally thankful for the warmth, but with the fall weather so wet little call was in for iron works and Qakisst found himself dismissed for the day shortly after midday with his meager week’s pay. His employer was no more sympathetic that the town watchmen as Qakisst trudged off to find shelter. The thankful advantage to being released from his duties early should have been a chance to search out someplace secure for the night, but with winter weather on the way any free space was already taken, and it seemed that Qakisst was not the only homeless urchin that had been forced onto the streets by what he had come to realize is an annual event. Each autumn the home owners throughout Korvosa fixed up their rooftops before winter; driving the homeless back onto the streets as they found their attic hiding spaces boarded up. It seemed horribly cruel to Qakisst.
He trudged along the shingle roads towards shelter at the temple of Nethys; this time arriving well before the gates closed. Shuffling in among the faithful and the hopeless alike Qakisst knelt as appropriate and endured the service. Though Nethys was not his patron, Sarenrae, Qakisst was appropriately respectful, if not fearful of all the gods, and found the service pleasant; unlike the service of Asmodeus which honestly terrified the boy. The line for food in the shelter afterwards was long, and the food limited, but Qakisst had subsisted on less before. He recognized the gatekeeper from the night before, working in the service line, but said nothing except an appropriate, “Thank you, sir” as he moved through the line. The gatekeeper did not look pleased, but said nothing. Once Qakisst had food he found an open seat and quickly devoured his meal, which barely stifled his hunger, before searching out a place to sleep. Once more the old gatekeeper from the night before appeared, “No room, tiefling. You’ll have to go.”
“What?” Qakisst stumbled back, stunned. He had never before heard of the poor being turned out by any temple once they’d sat for meal.
“You need to leave boy, before these right proper folks make you leave.” Gathered behind the gatekeeper were a hand full of rough looking men who had gathered to see the commotion.
“Leave him be old man; he’s done no harm.” One of the men whispered, but the gate keeper shouted him down and pointed to the door.
“Out, boy! Your kind don’ belong.”
Unwilling to cause trouble, Qakisst grabbed his pack of meager possessions and rushed into the night. He knew in his heart that if the city watch were summoned they would always side against a poor homeless boy like himself; especially a half-blood outsider who they could not tell from a tiefling or a bull. Behind him one of the temple priests had arrived to find out what the disturbance was about. Both priest and wizard, Caster Benjamin stood over the elderly gatekeeper and fumed once the gatekeeper’s actions had been described. Never before had the temple of Nethys in Korvosa turned away the poor. That night the old gatekeeper worked his last watch. The temple elders stunned that one of their guards had taken it upon himself to choose who was in need and who was unworthy of Nethys, dismissed him the next morning.
This still left Qakisst cold and alone in the night as he had left before Caster Benjamin had arrived. And with tomorrow being worship day he would not even have the warmth of the forge to help him recover from the cold night. Once more Qakisst spent his night sheltering in the tight gap between buildings, cold and miserable. As the morning bells tolled, Qakisst roused from his exhaustion to find the rain once again soaking the city. With Sunday worship services running all morning there would be no vendors or shops open until after midday. Even the traveler’s inns would not open their doors but for well paying customers until after morning services had run their course. But the cold was too much to bear and Qakisst knew that he had to roust himself and get moving to warm up, or he would likely catch the fever.

The Exchange

The Shingles: part II:

Still angry over his wrongful eviction the night before, Qakisst avoided any attendance at worship day services. None of the temples were dedicated to the sun goddess Sarenrae or even to the Fire Queen Ymeri, and Qakisst was in no mood for being proselytized. There were places he knew he could go, but the company there was dangerous at best, and Qakisst did not feel up to defending himself or giving up his boots. The soles had worn thin, but over the last 6 months his feet had finally grown enough to fit them. Losing them now to ruffians seemed a worse plan that being wet and cold. The long morning cold settled into Qakisst’s bones as he wandered quietly across the shingle roads to the outer edge of the slums and crossed the bridge out of old Korvosa beyond the temples that served as shelters to the poor.
Finally too exhausted to continue, Qakisst trudged into an older tavern that had opened its’ doors after morning services had ended. The service was slow and the tavern quiet as most Korvosans preferred to spend the day at home or in chapel throughout the day on Sundays, but in a city as large as Korvosa there was always business to conduct and travelers arriving or leaving. Any tavern keeper that did not open their doors would lose the little business on worship day to competitors, and no business could afford that. Sitting next to the hearth, sodden and cold, Qakisst ordered hot mead and a plate of food, paying from the limited pay he had received only the day before. Even as bad as hatred for half-blooded outsiders was, coin was coin and Qakisst was soon wolfing down his first truly hot meal in a week.
Feeling somewhat revived Qakisst settled into his seat next to the fire and slowly nursed his warm mead lest the owner eject him before he warmed all the way through. Now that he had eaten his fill the young boy studied his surroundings. A hand full of travelers patronized the tavern along with two serving girls, the tender behind the bar and the kitchen staff that Qakisst never saw. Along one wall, seated on a tall stool with a strange hat on the table before her sat a woman in colorful loose clothing holding a lute. Slowly she tuned the fine stringed instrument before beginning to play for the light crowd. Throughout the afternoon two younger men in equally colorful clothes would bring the colorful bard food or drink. Occasionally one of them would sit in her place and play for a time on another instrument Qakisst did not recognize, but when they did this the crown noise would pick up and the light audience would go back to their drinks or food. The music remained peasant enough but the woman’s presence captivated the audience, male and female alike. Something about when she played entranced people and drew their coin.
Deeply absorbed by the colorful bard and her companions Qakisst did not pay attention as the tavern filled up in the late afternoon with the diner crown of neighborhood locals. Among them the recently fired Nethys temple gatekeeper who did not at first spot Qakisst seated near the hearth. Soon enough though Qakisst noticed a change in the mood; a grumbling in the now crowded room that, even as Qakisst cringed in his seat, showed disdain for tieflings in particular and outsiders in general. Once the grumbling started it didn’t take long before somebody pointed out Qakisst, crouched in his chair by the hearth. Spotting the young ifrit the old gatekeeper snarled, “That’s the vile thing that cost me my place at temple!” Several of the men surrounding bar rose up and started to shout and jeer at Qakisst who grabbed up his pack and began looking for an exit. As soon as Qakisst stood to depart the shoving started. Unable to get clear of the crowd Qakisst pleaded with them, “Let me go, please!” But the crowd grew more animated and boastful as Qakisst’s terror became apparent. In the back of the room the woman in the colorful outfit gathered her possession, grabbed her two companions, and directed them toward the kitchen door.
As Qakisst struggled to get clear his pack was ripped from his hands and tossed across the room where one of the colorful minstrels picked it up as he ducked into the serving entrance. Terrified by the now shouting crowd, Qakisst struggled to free himself until an iron trimmed mug, still full of ale, smashed across the side of his face stunning him. Dazed and unable to escape Qakisst found his arms pinned and his feet swept out from under him. Fists and feet battered him until he slumped to the floor barely aware of the continued beating. As sensation faded in and out Qakisst found himself bound and unable to move as he was drug from the tavern to the streets were the mob began dragging furniture damaged in the scuffle and piling it in the street. Light rain pelted the crowd as tempers flared, and the growing mob began finding other burnable debris to fuel the small but growing pile. Qakisst found himself tossed painfully onto the broken pile of splintered wood when he heard singing. As his senses came back to him he cursed the crowd bitterly, unable to believe that people were singing at his demise; but unexpectedly the crown turned towards the strong feminine voice enraptured. Calmness swept over the crowd as the melodic sound swelled and Qakisst found himself drawn despite his pain into the powerful arcane voice when he felt the bonds around his hands and feet give way.
A whispered voice drifted into his ear, “Time to go little outsider. I think you unintentionally wore out your welcome here.” A stern face with curry black hair filled his vision as he turned. One of the colorfully dressed men from the tavern pulled Qakisst to his unsteady feet. Qakisst did not feel hope or friendship from the man before him, but something had distracted the crowd and anybody willing to help was better than finding out the hard way if he could muster even a little of his long absent ancestors’ resistance to fire. Crossing the street into an alleyway, the man led Qakisst to his cohort who had rescued Qakisst’s pack from the floor of the tavern. As soon as the three men were out of sight the powerful voice cut off and the crowd began to buzz once more.
“Where’s the fiend!?!” … “Witchcraft!” … “Find the infernal bastard!”
Angry shouts in the distance spurred Qakisst despite his battered body as he and his would be rescuers entered an open courtyard where trade caravans were allowed to park and guard their wagons. Gathered along one side of the courtyard were a group of colorful wagons like nothing Qakisst had seen. Panted in intricate imagery and draped in tattered finery the wagons were a bustle of odd business.
“Get the horses hitched quickly.” One of Qakisst’s rescuers shouted to the wagon’s tenders. As the two men pressed him into the largest of the wagons he heard, “I doubt Liandra knows exactly what she has gotten us into but we need to be on our way as soon as she catches us.”
A soft voice filled Qakisst’s head, “Do not wait for me. I will catch you once I lead this rabble into a place they can be dealt with. I have sent help too. You will know him.” The voice startled Qakisst more because he recognized the musical tone of the bard from her tavern performance. With that recognition came the realization that it had been her voice that had mesmerized the mob long enough for her compatriots to free him.
A shout came from somewhere among the wagons, “You heard her message; grab your shoes boys and girls. The road awaits!” Qakisst could hear the commotion outside the wagon were he lay, but his pain kept him curled on the floor next to his pack.
The wagon shook gently and horses bayed with a disgruntled voice as footsteps slapped the wet cobbles outside the wagon. In just moments the wagon lurched and began to move even as the door opened and a plainly robed man stepped into the now moving wagon door, dripping from the still steady rain. Behind him one of the colorful men pressed forward. “This is the boy, Caster Benjamin. Liandra has a thing for rescuing troubled children you know.”
Caster Benjamin smiled, “Know it all too well my friend. She rescued me once too.” Benjamin knelt next to Qakisst, “Now let us have a look at you in better light than we have on the floor.” A faint torch like glow rolled off the man’s fingertips and grabbed onto a small crystal chandelier swaying from the overly decorated interior of the wagon. “Help me getting the poor lad up onto the bed, Deivon.”
Despite the reassuring smile on this new man’s face Qakisst flinched as Caster Benjamin reached for him. “I recognize you, young man. I must humbly apologize for your treatment yesterday. Guardsman Barrak had no right to send anybody away from temple.”
Qakisst blinked, stunned at the Caster’s acknowledgment of yesterday’s misfortunes. “We’ll not hurt you, child. Liandra would have my hide if I ever allowed an orphan to come to harm.” Caster Benjamin gestured to the soft bed mounted to the inside of the wagon. “You will be much more comfortable up here; now up you go.” Qakisst cautiously accepted the helping hand and painfully rose to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have the look of an outsider about you child; but you do not look a tiefling. Your features are too smooth and even; so not only is Guardsman Barrak a bigot and a fool, he is an idiot. If I were a man of chance I would guess from your skin and eyes that you are elemental born; am I right?” Qakisst nodded his head mutely in reply, “Well then, all those years studying were not wasted on me, were they Deivon.” Caster Benjamin carefully lifted Qakisst’s arms one at a time examining first them, then his chest and legs before carefully pressing on the bruises about his face. “I guess proper introductions are in order. My name is Benjamin, though most call me Caster Benjamin per my place at temple. This suspicious young man behind me is Deivon. Now who might you be?”
Qakisst’s battered mouth could barely move making his somewhat stilled accent difficult to follow, “Noobodie, siirr. Iam noobodie.”
“Everybody is somebody, my boy. And since it looks like you still have all your teeth, let’s see if we can help with this swelling.” A calloused hand gently cradled Qakisst’s face and warmth seeped into his skin as Caster Benjamin held forth the Seal of Nethys chanting a brief prayer. Healing energies poured through Caster Benjamin’s hand and the pain first surged then evaporated like phantom rain causing Qakisst to grunt at the unexpected sensation. “There. I am terribly sorry for the pain. Healing magic is not the painless process many expect; but you should not be quite so uncomfortable now. So if you would though, please to share with us your name.” Caster Benjamin leaned forward, “If you do not give me one Deivon will make one up for you and it is a devil of a time getting rid of it once he tells all of his Varisi family. Trust me, I know.”
“Qakisst” the elemental child whispered softly.
“With a name like quenched fire; Elemental born for sure.” Caster Benjamin smiled. “Now, you look like you have not eaten in a month Kawkizzst. Deivon, where is that famous Varisi hospitality?”
“What would you have us do, Caster? Riffle through his pack for loose coins?”
“Behave Deivon. The other kind of Varisi hospitality.” Caster Benjamin looked sternly over his shoulder. “I am sure that you are still perfectly capable of leaping wagon to wagon as you did as a boy to find a bite for this one to eat.”
“No need of that, Caster.” Deivon turned and riffled through a couple of cabinets mounted to the opposite wall from Qakisst and pulled out fruit. “You know that Liandra always keeps a small hoard tucked away. Worse than a dragon when it comes to her pleasures; though I do not think she will mind sharing a pear or two in this case.” Kneeling, Deivon looked Qakisst in the eyes sternly, but not with menace, “Liandra has a soft heart for wayward children in over their heads. Please not to make her regret this young Mr. Qakisst.” Deivon winked. “Unlike Caster Benjamin, I can pronounce strange names properly.” Deivon smiled a big toothy grin and slapped two pears into Qakisst’s hands. “Now I must sally forth to find out what has happened to yer savior. I would expect her to have caught the wagon by now skipping along the shingle roads above us.”
Deivon slipped to the back of the wagon and out the door onto the running board on the back then swiftly pulled himself onto the wagon roof. Once Deivon had gone, Caster Benjamin pulled the door closed and sat opposite Qakisst upon a stool that appeared to be bolted to the floor of the wagon. “I am sure you have questions, as do I. But you should eat those before they take root in your hands. Healing magic take a lot out of both the caster and the healed, but I have been getting regular meals. I’ve a feeling that you have not. You are older than you look, aren’t you Kawkizzst?”
Qakisst grimaced at the abuse his name was taking, “I don' know. I don’ know how old I should look.” Juice from one of the pears rand down Qakisst’s face as he bit carefully into the ripe fruit.
“Well, in human terms I would guess 10 to 12, maybe a touch older; but I have been told that most half-blood outsiders age slowly. More like elves or their half-blooded kin. How many turnings of the winter season have you seen?”
“I don’ know really. Maybe forty?”
“Very much like the elven born then.” With a sad smile Castor Benjamin looked into Qakisst’s eyes, “How many of them on the streets, Kawkizzst?”
“Not many. Just this year in Korvosa, Sir. And four getting out of Qadira.”
“Parents? Any other family?”
“My Mother passed from this world last year on our way here. I never had a father. Just a Master until Mother broke free.”
“Broke free? Oh dear. Your Mother was a slave, wasn’t she?”
Qakisst shrank down into the bed as far as he could, “Yes sir. I have sisters someplace; but I know not where. The Master sold them as soon as he could get good value from them. Boys have less value until they have grown but girls can be sold as soon there is a hint of a woman to them.” The anger was subtle in Qakisst’s voice, but not so that Caster Benjamin missed it. That the young boy knew of such worldly evil frightened Benjamin.
Benjamin pursed his lips as if he had eaten something sour, “I do not think Liandra will be happy to hear that.” The distressed look in Qakisst’s eyes showed his fear and confusion at Caster Benjamin’s frown, “No need for you to worry, Kawkizzst. Varisi disdain slavery of any kind; as do most civilized people. They are a free spirited people and when Liandra finds out that you are not only an orphan but an escaped slave she will be likely to adopt you herself. She’d likely do that anyway, but this will pretty much seal it for her.”
“I don’ understand. Nobody adopts outsiders. Not half-blooded outsiders like me anyway.”
“I think you might be surprised by the Varisi. They value their heritage like nobody else, but they value freedom more. And if you are good to them, they will always be good to you. If they accept you as family you will be varisipen, one of Varisi spirit. That makes you as much family as any blood could, maybe more so. But if you cross them you are gadjo, forever an outsider to the Varisi no matter your birth. I think you will be varisipen.” Caster Benjamin leaned back against the cabinet from his seat. “I think we are nearing the eastern gate so any questions I have will have to wait for a different time and yours will have to wait for Liandra. Hopefully she will catch us soon. She is the only one that has the skill to hide you while the caravan leaves the city. If the ruckus Barrak started catches wind, and I despair that it will, the city will go into lock down before the caravan passes the gates. That would be bad, since Varisi often take the blame when bad things happen, and this mess started with the Varisi present, so the guards will want to search the wagons. ” Castor Benjamin smiled, “There are always a few things missing when the Varisi leave; though not normally children. Having the wagons searched would not be a good thing even if nobody is looking for you.”
“No it would not.” The melodic voice of Qakisst’s savior startled Qakisst. He had not even heard the door to the wagon open and close as Liandra entered.
“As subtle and stealthy as ever, Mother.”
“You have no need to call me that anymore, Caster. You’ve long grown to be your own man since I found you on the streets. Now, tell me what trouble I have found this time.” The colorful bard moved to sit on the floor next to the bed.
“I was not on the streets. I was climbing out of your wagon with whatever I could carry.” Caster Benjamin looked at Liandra indignantly, “Not every street urchin is wise enough to steer clear of a Varisi wagon.” The Caster smiled at Qakisst who chuckled in return.
“And this one looks no older than you were when I argued with Tanrov to keep you, Caster. Just for your boldness mind you.”
“Must you use my title, Mother? And no, this one may actually be your age or older.”
“If you keep calling me Mother I am going to keep calling you Caster. And how could one so young looking be as old and decrepit as me?”
“I can live with that, Mother; and you are hardly decrepit with less than fifty years to you.” Caster Benjamin smiled. “Some half-blood outsiders follow their human heritage and others hold a spark of otherworldly immortality; or at least sufficient longevity to make even the elves show respect. I suspect young Kawkizzst is one such lad.”
“Qakisst.” The young ifrit spoke softly.
“Say it again boy. With pride this time.” Liandra sat by the edge of the bed next to Qakisst’s feet glowering at Caster Benjamin. “Say it with pride and never let dunderheaded arcane priests abuse it.”
“I humbly apologize, Kakwisst. Err, that’s not much better is it?” The Caster smirked, “Hopefully I will get better before you next return to Korvosa. Kakisst?”
“Qakisst.” This time more assured, “And you do me honor by trying harder than most.”
“I thank you, Kakisst. Hrmm, I’m going to have to practice for sure. Now; Mother, are you going to have trouble getting past the gates? I need to return to the temple before too long but if you need a little diplomatic help I can try to vouch for you as you pass the gates.” Caster Benjamin looked too serious to Qakisst but Liandra seemed undisturbed.
“You always did worry too much, my Benjamin. The day that Varisi cannot pass in and out of any city has not yet come.” Liandra smiled impishly, “Now, unless you’ve a potion or two I should keep for my new charge you should step off while we are still in the city. You still remember how to step off a moving wagon, do you not?”
“I would not be Varisipen if otherwise.” Caster Benjamin rose from his seat while placing a package in Liandra’s hands and walked to the back of the wagon whispering to his adopted Mother, “This little one has manners for sure, but I fear that they were beaten into him in the worst way, Mother. Have a care with him till he heals in his heart. And be watchful. I believe he has the talent.” Stepping out the door and turning to face the two occupants, “Well-met, Qakisst.” Castor Benjamin Varisipan stepped smoothly from the running board into the rain swept night.
[

The Exchange

The Harrowing: part I:

Five years had changed a lot of things in his life, but not Qakisst himself. Not much anyway. He still appeared unnaturally young for a child nearly five decades old. All the children that had seemed a good fit to him when he was first introduced to his extended Varisi family had grown and gone to apprentice with an elder, yet Qakisst had not grown as the other children had and still struggled with learning to write the complex runes used in the Varisian language and the many skills considered essential to life on the road. Nobody complained though. Since shortly after being adopted into Liandra’s wagon caravan all the adults had come to understand that the elemental born half-blood would age slowly; including in his picking up the many essential skills of Varisian life. Fortunately the Varisi rarely lacked for somebody that could teach a young sorcerer, one of the few skills Qakisst seemed to keep pace with. Liandra was pleased that most of the clan had accepted her latest lost-boy even as she worried that he might never learn the basic skills of the road.
There were always some that would not accept anybody not born to actual Varisi blood, but there was no doubting the fiery spirit and love of freedom in the half-blooded elemental. Liandra loved to watch the ruddy dark skinned boy race across the field with all the laughing children of the extended clan. Except for the large black bull like horns of his elemental heritage he appeared almost Shoanti at a glance compared to the lighter skinned Varisi born children. Now if she could just keep him out of trouble. Friendship seemed to come easily to Qakisst once people got past the six inch long curved horns extending out above his brow. But sometimes friendship came too easily. Several of the Sczarni children seemed to like hanging around the young half-blood too much. All the Varisi knew of the Sczarni love for lightening the load of the gadjo, or non-Varisi. Liandra desperately hoped that the less than reputable among the Sczarni children were not setting up her latest adoptee to be their fall guy. Varisi tradition forbade stealing from or causing undue harm to other Varisi; and most of the Varisi throughout all the clans had accepted Liandra’s decision to adopt Qakisst. But not all had been happy about it and some few simply never would. If some of the Sczarni had not accepted Qakisst they would have no qualms about using him and discarding him at their convenience. Despite warnings that he should be more mindful of the less reputable Sczarni family members; Qakisst never seemed to pay heed to the idea that the few friends that had not moved on as they grew older while he did not seem to age might have ulterior motives for letting the eternally young ifrit run with them.
As much as Liandra worried, Qakisst understood better than she might know. He had never discussed his brief time running with a young tiefling named Nychell on the streets of Korvosa. As much as Qakisst loved having friends whose interests did not seem to leave him behind when their minds started turning to worldly thoughts; he knew full well that the Sczarni clan seemed over eager to prank the gadjo, or lighten their purse when possible. To the young girl Nychell it had been almost a challenge to prove that she could get away with things and Qakisst saw that same mischievous determination in many of the younger Sczarni. To them it was a game and a challenge.
Qakisst’s first bit of bad luck with the Sczarni children had been in the town of Baslwief. One of the older Sczarni girls, Syeira had tried to teach Qakisst how to lift a loose dagger or pouch from an unsuspecting gadjo’s belt. The result was the two youngsters dashing through the town in the opposite direction from the caravan to spend three days hiding in the farmlands until the caravan moved out. Liandra was furious when the two were finally located, but Qakisst insisted that the entire incident had been his fault. Neither child admitted to picking pockets in the town market, just that one of the local farmers had taken exception to being bumped into by some fel-born urchin; which was true. They just left out the part about the dagger Qakisst had dropped when the farmer made a grab for him during the two children’s escape.
After that day, Syeira declared to the other children that cousin Kisst was one of us; and all the other Sczarni children seemed to accept him as family even though he could not lift a dagger off a sleeping man in a crowded market. Other incidents happened from time to time, always involving one of the prolific Sczarni children and Qakisst. More and more often Qakisst had little to nothing to do with whatever mischief was afoot; but with massive black bull like horns curving up from his forehead there was never any doubt when Qakisst had been there. Combined with his now colorful Varisi wardrobe and ruddy dark reddish complexion it was impossible to miss Qakisst in a crowd and all too often the locals simply pointed at him when things went wrong. What nobody realized was that because cousin Kisst made such an obvious distraction the Sczarni children loved hanging out with him. Hands pointing at Qakisst were not guarding their pockets and if caught the young boy never had anything that was not obviously his on him. Simply put, Qakisst made the perfect stalking horse for his Sczarni friends. The Sczarni children, never one to break tradition, always shared their ill-gotten treasures of coin, candies, trinkets, and toys with cousin Kisst afterward; and they never left him to take the fall. As much as Liandra worried, cousin Kisst was family and not a single Varisi child would leave him to take the fall. Especially not the Sczarni who seemed to love him the most. But whenever a Sczarni child showed up at her wagon Liandra was rushing off to rescue her boy from the city watch; because villager suspicions refused to be quelled by something as simple as the fact that Qakisst had not stolen anything. Qakisst was never the one to actually steal anything, but more often than not he was the one that got caught.
So far his apparent youth combined with the lack of anything incriminating on his person had allowed Liandra to retrieve Qakisst each time; but Liandra knew that would not last as even Qakisst would not remain a child forever. A mother’s discerning eye could tell that the boy was slowly starting to fill out and all too soon Liandra would not be able to rescue the young man that Qakisst would become; and in her mind it would only take one unscrupulous act of spite by somebody that did not accept Qakisst as family for the child to find himself trapped in prison for doing nothing more than making himself seen. That was why Liandra had pressed the members of their extended clan to winter in Sandpoint once more. She needed advice and there was no place better to get advice than from family.
Niska Mvashti was old. By human standards ancient. Rumor had it that she had stood right on this very spot when Sandpoint was founded. As part of the original agreement between the Varisi who winter in the Sandpoint area and the Sandpoint Merchant’s League the elderly Varisi woman was allowed to build a house and settle permanently as the representative of the Varisi to the Sandpoint council. When the original settlers from Magnamar realized that the place that they had selected to build their new city happened to be a Varisi winter settlement they had not been thrilled; but to prevent all-out war they made agreements with the Varisi; expecting that over time the vagabond people would find the encroaching urban settlement not to their liking and had presumed that the elderly Varisian woman would not last more than ten years. So they had agreed to let Niska settle permanently in the newly planned city, and to welcome the Varisi each winter. Niska had outlived them all while welcoming her beloved Varisi family each winter, and had watched the Sandpoint children, and in some places grandchildren, take their places in the fledgling city as their parents retired or passed on. To the locals Niska had become a treasure. To the Varisi she was a legend. More skilled at the Harrowing that any other living Varisi and wise beyond even her ancient days. Liandra sat waiting in the Harrowing Parlor for the Varisi’s beloved Grandmother while Qakisst stood just outside the doorway to the room studying all the intricate decorations that filled the entryway of Niska’s home.
Niska lied to the younger woman waiting for her in the Harrowing room, “I see that you are comfortable. It has taken 20 years to convince you to sit while waiting for me.” Liandra smiled cautiously as Grandmother Niska entered the parlor. “Koya wishes that you would visit more often. She will want to see you and meet your new charge when she returns from the errands I have set upon her.” Looking into the entry way at the too young looking elemental Niska smiled, “Always looking for the hardest of hard cases to rescue I see, Liandra?” The elderly Varisi settled into her padded chair in front of her Harrowing table, “Your mother would be proud of you Liandra. A heart can never be too kind; yet you insist on trying to prove one can.”
“I hope she taught me well, Grandmother.” Liandra smiled broadly at Niska. All the Varisi in Sandpoint called Niska Grandmother. While her blood did not run through the veins of most Varisi her teachings did, and no Varisi could think of her as any less than their most honored family member.
“As well as one can teach the young; they have no mind to listen when it’s most important. Now, what brings you all this way when I had heard that your caravans had ranged as far as Cheliax since last I saw you?”
“I fear I have taken on more than I can handle, Grandmother. He is a good boy, but trouble follows him everywhere through little fault of his own.” Liandra sighed, “And his endless youth worries me. I am not young anymore but he has not changed more than a hair in the five years he has been mine.”
“Little you say, none I hear. You speak like a mother of her favorite child. Are you sure the boy is as innocent as you say?”
“I did say little, Grandmother. Children are children and boys will be boys. I cannot even be certain with his past that Qakisst is innocent at all. However I may feel, nobody ever catches Qakisst stealing or finds anything on him stolen. However, the Sczarni children are masters at trouble and they have taken too keen an interest in him. Not a month passes but one of the Sczarni clan comes to my door when Qakisst is being held by a village watch in suspicion of theft or witchcraft.” Liandra shifted uncomfortably as she continued, “I have seen no cruelty by them, but the young Sczarni have taken to using the child for his ability to attract attention. He does not need to be their stalking horse. No good will come of it.”
“And you have talked to the boy?”
“More than once, Grandmother. But because of his heritage the other children grow up around him while he barely changes; and I have no idea how long that might go on. The Sczarni children let him continue to come with them though and I fear he will mistake usefulness for friendship.”
Qakisst listened as hard as he could, but no sound crossed the threshold to the room where his adopted mother sat speaking with the old woman they had come to see. Liandra had warned him to be most respectful to Grandmother Niska, and had explained some of why the Varisi treated her with such respect so Qakisst respectfully wished he could hear what they were saying. He knew without doubt that he must be at least in part the reason for this visit which made him inclined to wring his hands in nervousness. But the first lesson of the streets was to show no fear and Qakisst had learned it well. Even as he strained to hear anything through the strangely silent bead curtain that partially covered the door between rooms he studied the wondrous assortment of relics covering the walls of Grandmother Niska’s entryway with apparent disinterest.
After a long moment of silence Liandra poked her head out into the entry way to find Qakisst silently examining one of the hundreds of gifts given to Niska by the Varisi clans. “Qakisst, Grandmother Niska would like to meet you. Please come in and sit with us.”
Liandra’s sudden appearance at the entrance to the Harrowing Room startled Qakisst. Liandra smiled inside knowing how nervous the boy must be to jump so. The other Varisi children were always sneaking up on the boy and he had learned not to react at all, even if he had no idea they were there. He had also developed a quickness of reaction so that if you did not manage to sneak up you knew it. Fail in your efforts to sneak up on Qakisst and you quickly found yourself eye to eye with a grinning ifrit quite unexpectedly. While able to run no faster than the other boys, Qakisst’s reactions were frighteningly quick.
Qakisst moved quickly, if cautiously into the Harrowing Room and felt the sound change. Out in the entry way he could hear the bustle of the streets outside the front door, but in here he could hear nothing but his own breathing. His otherworldly senses detected nothing magical about it, yet this room seemed to swallow sound as if in a different world.
“It is perfectly alright to be nervous, young man.” The elderly Niska smiled gently, motioning to a seat next to his mother’s. “It does me good to think I can still make a young man nervous.”
Qakisst nearly choked at the flirtatious banter and settled into the offered seat as far as he could.
“Now, tell me something my boy, how many winters have you?”
“I do not know for sure, ma’am. No more than 50 I know, but not how many.”
“How about we ask fate to share that little bit of information.” Niska pulled a weathered and worn deck of cards from her sleeve where she kept them is a specially made pocket. Qakisst recognized the Harrowing deck immediately. Nobody who lived among the Varisi could mistake the intricate card deck or not now its purpose. “Has your mother ever sat you for a Harrowing?”
“No ma’am.”
“Why not, Liandra? I think the boy might make a masterful Harrower himself one day.”
Liandra stiffened slightly at the unexpected rebuke, “I thought he should be free to make his own fate for a time, Grandmother. Too much of his early life he was chained to somebody else’s demands.”
“Be honest, girl. You were afraid that what you might learn about the boy could take him from you. I think that there is nothing to fear in knowledge; only in its use.” Niska smiles at Qakisst and passed the Harrowing deck to him. “Lay them out in the Harrowing my boy and let us see when you come from.”
Qakisst slowly picked up the deck and laid out the three by three pattern of nine cards as he had seen it done for others. “Lift the past child and let us see.” At Niska’s prompting Qakisst turned over the bottom row of cards. Pain, Sorrow, and Loss showed themselves as expected, all three looking toward Qakisst at the bottom of the pattern. “Now turn up the top two cards on the deck and see if by chance the Harrowing knows your age.” Once more as directed, Qakisst drew the top two cards from the deck and turned them. The pattern of runes on the cards displayed the numbers four and nine in order. Qakisst gasped. The cards matched houses, something highly unlikely which suggested that Qakisst would be forty-nine years old. “I think that answers that question. Forty-nine years with a life of pain and suffering.”
“But I have not been suffering for the last five years, Grandmother Niska.”
“Have you not, young man?” Niska looked though narrow eyes and the boy, “You never speak, even to your Mother, of your past before the Varisi. You have bottled it up to stop the hurt, but the pain and loss are still there. I know that a part of you feels as though you might forget the past or dishonor those that came before. And I know that you fear that if you told your Mother of all the things that you have had to do she would not love you anymore. You should not worry of such things. Yes memories do fade with time, but they fade to fondness or bitterness by how we keep them. Shared memories become fond remembrances, or building blocks to support the present. Bottled memories become shameful cracks in the foundations of our lives. And true loved ones will face any past we may have. After all, that past has made us into the people that they love. Share your past and halve your burden for it, Qakisst Varisipen.”
The use of the Varisi honorific for their own startled both Qakisst and Liandra. Grandmother Niska did not speak any term lightly. Word would spread among the Varisi that Niska had accepted the boy making any that chose not to do so in disagreement with Grandmother. Liandra smiled with pride; Qakisst beamed with excitement the way only an adolescent boy could. Neither had missed the honorific.
“But you have other cards to turn and issues to resolve, have you not young man.” Niska’s statement brought Qakisst back down from his excited high only slightly. “Turn the present, child. Let us see what you need to be about, today.” Qakisst turned over the three cards marking his present with only a little trepidation. Strife, Knowledge, Friendship revealed themselves to the boy. “I think it is a good thing that you have come here, Qakisst. Strife can find you anyplace, and you have friends a plenty even if you know it not. But knowledge for one your age requires teachers.” Niska turned to Liandra with a smile, “Do you intend to spend all of winter here with your caravan, Liandra?
“Others would prefer to winter closer to Magnamar where there is more coin to be had, but I thought I would stay here till the Spring has melted the snow.” Liandra looked somewhat puzzled at Niska. Surly the elderly woman had no intention to be Qakisst’s teacher. A master bard and harrower, Niska would make a grand teacher for any student, but Qakisst’s skills did not seem to be in the realm of a bard.
“I think it might be good for you to winter here a little longer than that. Perhaps a couple of seasons or maybe a couple of winters even.” Few Varisi settled in one place for more than a season. Liandra and Qakisst looked at each other then back to Grandmother Niska. “There is a school here. The Head Master runs not only the school but overseas the attached orphanage.”
“Orphanage?” Liandra and Qakisst’s voices merged in troubled fear for what Grandmother Niska might be suggesting.
“The school teaches all the younglings of Sandpoint as well as the orphaned. Except those wealthy enough that they hire private tutors; most the young in Sandpoint go to school until they apprentice with somebody for the last few years before setting their own paths. Summers may be spent for most working the fields or shops with parents, but the off season is spent learning. The Head Master is reasonably strict in making sure that students take their lessons; but sends the children that he can home each night.” Niska smiled, having known what would trouble the two about the idea of a school with an orphanage. “So if you stop the turn of your wheels here for a few years you just might be able to settle the problem with Qakisst’s learning to properly read and write, help him to make a few friends that do not have to come get you to rescue him in each new town, and you young man just might find an arcane teacher that could teach you the writings of your ancestors.” Qakisst still looked dubious. “You may not want to share your past, child, but you should know it as well as you can. You may find that your future depends on it. And you just may teach them a thing or two about being an ifrit and being Varisi.”
“But I do not want to stay in one place so long.” Qakisst’s quiet statement brought a huge smile to Grandmother Niska.
“Of course you don’t. Think how I must feel in my advanced years. I have been in Sandpoint nearly as long as you have been alive, young man. Sometimes I think my shoes leave without me for love of the open road.” The idea of Niska’s shoes walking down the open road without her made Qakisst smile. “And any true Varisi chafes at taking root, so you have proven me right about whom you are young Varisipen; but what is best for us is not always what we want and the future not always where we expect it to be. School will be good for you and it might even be good for a hand full of the other children. The cards tell you as well that knowledge seeks you in the present so you might as well find it on your own terms; before it finds you.”
While not the sharpest blade in the sheath, even Qakisst could see that there was no point to an argument. The idea of being stuffed into a cramped room with a bunch of gadjo children did not sit well with Qakisst, but he was sure that starting an argument with Grandmother Niska was not wise. He was not even sure it was possible. “How long will I have to go to this school?”
“Until you cannot find your shoes under your bed in the morning, child.” Qakisst looked puzzled and his mother smiled.
“When your shoes have hit the road you will have to follow them, son.” The old Varisi expression made Qakisst laugh. “But what am I going to do here, Grandmother? I doubt my songs will seem so fresh come spring.”
“The Black Dear Inn hosts travelers all year long, my dear. The locals may not find them so fresh, but the travelers will always find them new and sweet. I am friends with the owner and he is Shoanti, so he will not think anything of your young boy’s skin color. I know for fact that he would love a bard in his inn to lighten the mood and loosen his customer’s purse strings.”
“Grandmother you know full well it will be the horns he notices.”
“I never saw an orc with horns, so I am betting he will pay them no mind. He will certainly mind less that he would if you were half-blooded orc and he has been tending his inn long enough to know that coin is coin no matter who it comes from.” Niska smirked at her own comment. The Shoanti people had lived in Varisia nearly as long as the Varisi; and their hate of the orcish tribes in the northeastern mountains were legendary. “Now, you know your present; let us have a look at your future young man.”
Qakisst did not want to turn the three remaining cards. He already felt somewhat betrayed by the harrowing because he would be going to school. He slowly turned up luck, passion and youth. “I do not understand. I don’ see how being young forever is lucky.” Qakisst looked dubiously at the three newly turned cards.
“The nine are not read as a sentence dear boy.” Grandmother Niska smiled. “I see struggles and passions in your young life, but nothing a young Varisi cannot handle with a little luck. I should think this a good omen. Rare is it that you see so many faces in the Harrowing and not see darker omens.” The elder Varisi paused and tilted her head, “I hear Koya in the kitchen. Hopefully she has a cookie or two to share as you spend some time getting to know your new home. I grow tired and need rest but Koya will be happy to walk you around the town and introduce you, young man. And she will be happy to see your mother once more. Who knows? Her own boys will be out of school this afternoon and you might find a new friend.”
As Niska finished speaking a younger version of herself slipped into the room from the back entrance with a plate of cookies fresh from the bakery just two blocks away. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Qakisst. I am most disappointed that your heart-mother did not bring you to Sandpoint sooner.” Liandra stood and the two women hugged even as Koya set the plate directly in front of Qakisst.
As Niska stood to depart the room she whispered, “Do not be shy, boy. She sat them right under your nose for a reason.” With a wink, Niska slipped out of the room as Qakisst, still cautious, picked up the first cookie.
As well as Qakisst had learned the sing-song language of his adopted mother he still found the speed with which the two women now chatted impossible to follow. He caught that his Mother had not been back to Sandpoint in nearly nine years; since her son Benjamin had been chosen as a Caster of Nethys. The mention of Caster Benjamin brought a smile to Qakisst’s face. Though he had only seen Caster Benjamin twice since the young arcane priest had helped him in his departure from Korvosa, Qakisst truly felt like he had an older brother in the younger human; and the Caster had even moved out of Korvosa choosing to study now in Varisia’s newer school of magic, the Twilight Academy at Galduria. This had allowed Liandra and Qakisst to visit him more than once over the last five years.
As Qakisst listened, happily munching a cookie, he learned that he had three adopted brothers. This little secret confused him somewhat. He had known about Caster Benjamin and had heard many times that Liandra had a reputation for rescuing young boys from the streets, but ego had lead him to believe that the Caster was the only other boy she had rescued. The mention of two names brought a sudden but very brief argument between the two women that ended with Liandra stuffing a cookie in her friend’s mouth.
“Not another word about that, Koya. I have enough on my plate making sure that this one is well taken care of.” Liandra stood and gathered her long Varisi scarf around her shoulders.
“Mo..” Liandra shushed the boy with a finger on his lips before he could ask any questions around the cookie in his mouth.
“Not with your mouth full, and not right now.” She smiled at him. “I will answer your questions later after I get revenge on Koya for letting the cat out of the wagon.” Liandra picked up a cookie for herself, “Leave a couple for Grandmother Niska, Qakisst. Then let us see our new home.”
“Bu..” Again Liandra shushed the boy with a finger to his lips.
“Not with your mouth full.” Liandra walked to the front entry. “Well come on. Sandpoint might grow feet on us if we sit here all day.”

The Exchange

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The Harrowing: part II:

The three colorfully clad Varisi stepped into the cool sunny afternoon in the village of Sandpoint. “Long road or short road?” Koya gestured left and right up Festival Street in front of “Madame Mvashti’s” House, as the sign above the door proclaimed Grandmother Niska’s home and business. Several passersby and the street started to wave to Koya and her guests, then slowed to stare at Qakisst. Koya raised a hand and gave a friendly wave to all, “Wave politely Qakisst. Let your new neighbors see that you are friendly.”
“Long/Short.” Koya’s two guests contradicted each other as Qakisst nervously smiled and waved to the people on the street.
“Long.” Liandra repeated. “We just as well make ourselves visible now, Qakisst. The sooner people get used to you the sooner they will quit staring.”
Koya surged off across Festival Street to Pickleback Lane across the road from them pointing out shops and calling out people as she walked. “Sandpoint is amazingly tolerant for a Chelish descended group. They will adapt to you soon enough, Qakisst.”
“I do not see any other children.” Qakisst commented. “Are they are in this school?”
“Most of them are. Until about three bells each afternoon five days a week.” Koya turned the group north up River Street pointing out the lumber mill complex and its businesses. “School starts at eight bells each morning; but Master Gandethus makes sure that the children have ample time to run and play.” River Street curved along until it came back to Festival Street. “Grandmother’s house is just back that way.” Koya pointed back up Festival as the trio strolled pass the Red Dog Smithy to High Street. The ring of hammer on steel startled Liandra but Qakisst perked up slightly at the sound. “Don’t expect Old Korvut to be friendly. He dislikes children hanging around his shop.” Qakisst seemed slightly distressed by that statement. “But I believe his young son is at Academy so you will get to meet him soon enough.”
The trio continued up High Street to the north plateau past a hand full of warehouses turning northeast along the temple grounds of the Sandpoint Cathedral towards the Black Deer Inn near the town’s main gate. “Let us step in here and meet her owner. I think you will like Garridan. Young, idealistic, wishes his parents had never left the Shoaniti step-lands, but so in love with his wife that he would never leave her. I know you have a weakness for young love.”
Liandra glowered at her friend after that last comment but said nothing as the three crossed through the entrance to the large and well apportioned inn.
Behind a massive curved service bar stood a massive young man less than 30 years of age. His dark features and ebony skill a contrast to most of the residents of Sandpoint. “Heyla my lady Koya. Do you have guests today?”
“I have, Garridan. I think you might remember my friend Liandra from her previous winters here.”
“Ever a pleasure Liandra. Will you be wintering with us this year? I have heard that you’ve become quite the master bard and the Black Dear could use a talented voice this season.” The big dark skinned man beamed at the trio. “And I have been hearing rumors today about a giant of a man with you, lady Liandra. Where is this great mass of a spirit touched man.” Garridan looked over the heads of the two woman seeing only the sharp points of Qakisst’s horns poking up from his place behind them.
“What is this?” Garridan stretched up his neck to look over the two women. “Is this the great man-beast the entire town is buzzing about like magpies?”
“M’lord.” Qakisst said softly with a nod to show appropriate respect as his Mother had taught him but never looked down or away. “I am called Qakisst, sir.” There was a bit of a quaver in the boys voice, but only slightly which impressed the massive Garridan.
“Well boy, have you seen this great beast of a man?” Garridan smiled slightly at the young boy.
“Stop teasing the boy, Garridan.” Koya chided the Shoanti innkeeper. “He has been enduring stares from the entire town all day.” Koya moved further into the inn and took a seat at a table next to the fireplace. “I hear this place serves the finest foods in Sandpoint. What would the proprietor recommend to hungry travelers.” The light crowd glanced about at the newly arrived trio, only a few eyes following Qakisst as they sat.
“Venison stew today, my friend. I shall make sure to bring a large bowl for one who must have such a monstrous appetite that the entire town thinks he is eight feet tall.” Garridan strolled off to the kitchen for the offered food as Qakisst and Liandra slipped into their seats.
The two women chatted with each other as Qakisst looked around the room. He could tell that something was bothering his Mother, but did not know what it was. He hoped that she disliked this idea of staying in Sandpoint for an extended time. History had taught the young ifrit that he did not fit in and that soon enough he and Liandra would need to move on with their caravan. Food arrived and the boisterous Garridan commented on his appetite once more as Qakisst slowly picked at his food. One too many cookies, his Mother would say. But the food was good and slowly Qakisst ate enough to be polite. Unexpectedly a small child had appeared at his left elbow and Qakisst was not sure how long he had been there.
“Are you part bull?” The young child’s question made Qakisst cough with its unexpected directness.
Qakisst smiled with some effort at the child, “No. And it is considered rude to ask such a question.” He looked around for the dark skinned child’s parents. The youngling was dressed in a linen shirt and breaches so Qakisst presumed the child a boy. On more than one occasion in the past he had caused a disturbance by just talking to other children as their parents would nearly panic at the idea of their child speaking to the half-blooded Qakisst. “Where are your parents?” Despite the conversation Qakisst was having, the two older Virasi women continued chatting as if they had not noticed.
“Moma is in the kitchen with Tanjah and Papa is pulling more firewood in for the kitchen.” The Shoanti boy stared unashamedly at Qakisst’s otherworldly features. “I saw horns like yours on a really big bull that Papa bought for slaughter once.” The idea of being slaughtered for somebody’s dinner table crossed Qakisst’s mind and he blanched at the idea. “It must be really exciting to have horns; I bet nobody would ever mess with me if I had horns.”
“Kid, you really do not know what you are saying.” Qakisst felt somewhat sick at the memories of how he had been treated because of his features. “Everybody treats you like you are a monster.”
“That is just silly.” The young Shoanti said with a funny face. “Papa says that spirit people are holy and we should respect them.” Grabbing Qakisst’s hand, the boy tugged gently. “Come play with me.”
Qakisst realized that Liandra and Koya had stopped talking and were watching him silently. “I do not think your parents would approve.” Qakisst seemed almost petrified at the idea of causing an incident on what was only his second day in Sandpoint. That would be a new record even for him. Around the inn other patrons seemed to ignore the two children, though Qakisst was certain that all eyes were on him.
“Please!” The young boy pulled with insistent pleading.
“He will not take no for an answer, young man.” The voice behind him startled Qakisst to his feet. As he turned, the younger boy still pulling on his arm, Qakisst saw a beautiful young woman with dark hair and ivory skin, an apron protecting her clothes from the duties of a kitchen. “Please correct me if I pronounce this incorrectly. Quakisss, is it not?” The woman held out a hand towards Qakisst.
“Um,… yesss? But pronounced more sharply.” Qakisst felt a surge of panic waiting to spring free. The fair haired and featured woman must be part of the inn staff, but Qakisst could not believe she would encourage him to go out and play with other people’s children. “Qakisst.”
“Vachedi stop pulling on the poor boy’s arm. He’ll come out and play in a moment.”
“Yes Moma.” Young Vachedi released Qakisst’s arm and dashed for the front of the inn before he could be given some chore.
“You’re his…”
“He takes after Garridan in his looks, but me in spirit.”
“Take the lady’s hand and greet your hostess properly, Qakisst.” Liandra chided her boy. She had watched carefully to make sure that her boy handled himself well but preferred to sit by the wayside as he learned what the town’s social norms would accept.
Qakisst gently accepted the young woman’s hands, bowing slightly while lifting the hand towards his lips, but stopped as he had been taught about 6 inches from his face, “Please forgive my rudeness, m’Lady.”
“A charmer like every Varisi man that ever took my hand.” Lady Viskalai smiled at Qakisst, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Qakisst. I am Lady Quinta Viskalai. Please feel welcome to my home.” Quinta glowed at even the brief attention the room paid her. “I would be a liar if I did not say that I understand your heritage, Qakisst. Garridan says that you are spirit touched. If I had not known better I would have seen you and thought you were fel-born. I am very glad that he made sure I did not make such an error.”
The reference to tiefling heritage annoyed Qakisst for the implication of prejudice it carried, “One cannot chose their parents too carefully, m’Lady.” Qakisst backed up a step, releasing his host’s hand, “I had best see what games your son wishes me to learn.” With that, Qakisst slipped between the tables and out the main entrance of the inn.
Lady Quinta looked after Qakisst as he slipped out the door before saying, “Why do I feel like I have just been chastised by a teenager?”
“Because you have.” The two Varisi women chimed in chorus.
“The fel-born can no more control who their parents are than can the celestial sent. The Shoanti are right to think of the fel and celestial the same way they do the elemental born. As spirit folks born of two worlds.” Koya spoke calmly, but the annoyance in her voice could not be covered completely.
“That may be true Koya Mvashti, but visits from the in-laws if you married a fel-born would be awkward to say the least.” Lady Quinta did not seem to like being chastised not just by Qakisst before he rushed out the door but by both Varisi women.
“We cannot all have family as wonderful as Garridan’s brother.” Koya’s reference to Lady Viskalai’s brother-in-law, Guard Captain Belor Viskalai, actually made Lady Quinta smile.
“Two of Sandpoints most wonderful siblings and I had to fall in love with the one that wants to run off to live in a tent out on the barrens. But he is a marvelous father.” Lady Quinta grinned as only one in love can, “And despite all of Garridan’s gruffness about how cosmopolitan his brother has become, he is really quite proud. Guard Captain. Quite a promotion for such a young man. Now if I could just get the two of them to talk without a fight.” Lady Quinta paused, “I see your point Koya. A house full of barbed devils is not any worse than ours on festival days. Garridan and Belor are too much alike where pride is concerned.”
Their hostess shifted smoothly into the seat that Qakisst had vacated before he ran outside to play, “I know Garridan hinted that we have a place for a bard to play. Would you Liandra?”
“Just how big is this conspiracy to keep me in Sandpoint, Koya?” Liandra looked through narrowed eyes at the two women seated with her. Koya did a much better job of showing indignation at the suggestion that the events of the day were not purely happenstance. Lady Quinta simply beamed with excitement.
“Your letter said that you need help with Qakisst. Grandmother made sure that I found help for you.” Koya said dryly. “You should never have sent a letter if you did not want us to make advanced preparations.”
“She never shuffled, did she.”
“Nor did she let Qakisst shuffle the Harrow. She simply had him lay them out exactly as she handed them too him. Honestly, Liadra. You call yourself a Varisi when Grandmother can so easily stack the deck right in front of you?”
“Stack the deck?” Lady Quinta smirked at Koya, “I shall have to remember make sure your Grandmother does not do the same to me some day.” Pausing yet still smiling, Lady Quinta turned to Liandra before speaking again, “I can see that you are angry Liandra, but you did come to Sandpoint for a reason. There are things about himself you cannot teach Qakisst, and to make sure that you can live comfortably Garridan would be most pleased to offer you a place to, how do you say it? A place to stop the turning of your wheels for a time.”
“I am more upset that you did not talk to me about it first.” Liandra tried to look angry, but the too excited face of her hostess made that difficult. “But I cannot argue with Grandmother Niska’s reasoning. I cannot teach Qakisst the Ignian language and I am having a hard time teaching him the runes of our own heritage. Still, you should have talked to me first, Koya. Or Grandmother should have.”
“Grandmother would prefer that the town think this providence, or her idea. That way any anger will get directed at her, and nobody remains angry at Madam Mvashti for long. It also means that if things do not work out well for Qakisst he will not be blaming his Mother for it.” Koya turned to look Liandra in the eyes. “The things he needs to learn he can learn here in a few years; then back to the road for both of you if you wish. In the meantime, the Black Deer could use a bard. And be honest, if we had talked to you about it before would you have even listened?”
“Probably not.” Liandra admitted.
“You can chose to stay in your wagon if you like or Garridan can clear one of the small rooms for each of you.”
Liandra looked at Lady Quinta, “What are you gaining in this, m’Lady? I understand that Garridan owes Grandmother Niska a favor, but you are awfully eager for somebody that has not seen me since you were just a teenager and never really knew me well.”
“I get one of the finest bards in Varisia to perform almost nightly in my inn for at least the winter. And to be honest, Garridan spent considerable time discussing this with me before you arrived. To Garridan this is a manner of his honor, and even I know that that means to a Shoanti. Even then, if he had not discussed it with me first I doubt I would be so supportive of the idea. It would seem too suspicious that my husband wanted a pretty bard around the Inn all the time.”
Liandra nearly choked at the comment and Koya laughed out loud, “There will be rumors about such no matter what. This is Sandpoint and rumors are our biggest export.”

Out on the north side of the Black Dear Inn, Qakisst followed the young Shoanti boy along the overlook facing the open sea. “Did your mother tell you that you had to get me outside?”
“No.” The younger boy tumbled across the grass above the cliff face.
“But she said you should go and play with me, did she not?”
“Yes, but that is okay because I think you are great.”
“Did she say that you should play outside?”
“She always tells me to play outside.”
“I thought so.” Qakisst tumbled into the grass keeping up with the energetic young boy. “So why are you not at the school today?”
“I’m too young.” Vachedi struggled to do a hand stand flopping back down into the grass after just a moment.
“Too young?”
“You have to be six before they let you go to school with the bigger kids. I get to start in the spring.” Vachedi jumped up and kicked out at the air spinning around. “Are you going to go to school here?”
“I do not know.”
“I hope you do. I think everybody will like you.”
Qakisst smiled at the idea. Certainly the Varisi had accepted him once his heritage had been explained. Even Varisi that had not met him knew who he was. He was Liandra’s son to them. The spirit touched half-blood born with a Varisi heart. “I am afraid to go to school.”
“Why would you be afraid to go to school?”
“Because not everybody is as nice as you are, Vachedi.

The Exchange

This one's a bit long but there's just no way to cut it up that works for me.

The Late Unpleasantness:

As always, Qakisst slid slowly out from under the covers in the pre-morning darkness. While his bed was warm and the air near Sandpoint was still too cool and moist for his liking during the late spring months he had never been able to sleep past sunrise. It was as if the sun called to him each morning and Qakisst could not help but answer. So he bundled himself warmly and slipped from the Varisi style wagon he shared with his adopted mother wearing the boots he detested, as Qakisst preferred bare feet on warm sand, and trudged slowly around to the back of the Black Deer Inn for breakfast before the endless march off to school. Dew dampened the hated boots as Qakisst slipped through the kitchen entrance at the back of the inn and scrounged food without disturbing the kitchen staff.

While not the most welcome site in the kitchen this early in the morning, Qakisst was no longer considered an interloper or invader in the Black Deer’s kitchen. He had long ago learned how to stay out from under foot in the morning and always managed to complete his assigned chore of stocking the kitchen’s woodpile without fail, or complaint, each evening. Not something that could be said of the Viskalai children that were old enough to have chores around their father’s inn. The work got done, but the complaints were endless. Over the last four and a half years Qakisst and his adopted mother had become features of the Black Dear Inn; and in that time the staff had grown unexpectedly fond of the otherworldly young man.

The Black Deer’s wait staff had become particularly fond of the boy thanks to his mother’s bardic ability to loosen purse strings each evening. On the rare occasion that a customer would be so bold as to make a fuss about there being a fel-born child around the inn they would find the service lacking while the rest of the crowd benefitted from blatant displays of extra attention. This might have cost the Black Deer some business except for the Varisi people. The Varisi had heard how the Black Deer staff had rallied around Qakisst, who they considered one of their own through his adopted Varisi mother, and had spread the word about the wondrous Black Deer’s peppercorn venison and other delights. Virtually every merchant or noble passing through Sandpoint stopped for a meal, if not a night’s stay at the Black Deer.

Because of the growing reputations of the inn, even in these early hours there were patrons beginning to fill the massive common room. Few paid any attention to the young man with the black bull horns who slipped silently into the corner table next to the kitchen entrance. Moments after Qakisst took his seat Korva Viskalai, oldest of the Viskalai children slipped into the seat next to his. Over the last few months the fourteen year old girl had developed a habit of rising early to have breakfast with the young ifrit. At first Qakisst had found this annoying, but Korva was never rude and always smiled at him now. He liked it when Korva smiled at him.

Young was a relative term in Qakisst’s case though. At fifty-four winters, Qakisst was nearly four times Korva’s age but as an ifrit he was really no more mature emotionally or physically. That was the curse of being what the Shoanti called spirit touched; or what some called less generous terms. Those born with obviously otherworldly ancestry lived long slow lives more like the elves of the forest or the mountain born dwarves. The human world into which they were born grew up and grew old around them while they were still children. This otherworldly longevity set people like Qakisst apart from the human world around him. It incited jealously, anger, fear, and even hate from some in the aging human world he lived in; yet in some societies the spirit touched were cherished and celebrated as gifts from the gods. Here in Sandpoint most of the people had come to view those with otherworldly ancestry as good fortune.

It had turned out that Qakisst was not the only spirit touched child in Sandpoint. The temple’s High Cleric had adopted a young girl, just as Liandra had adopted Qakisst a decade ago, and this child carried the glow of heaven about her. The beautiful young aasimar Nualia Tobyn was far younger than Qakisst, though she had not inherited the agelessness of the angelic as Qakisst had the enduring life of fire, her presence had made accepting the young ifrit easier for the town than it might have been. The openness of the town to the Varisi also helped smooth things over when Liandra had chosen to stop the turn of her wheels here with Qakisst nearly five years ago, as had the town’s status as a refuge for those half-blooded with more worldly origins. Half-elf and half-orc children from the frontier areas where Shoanti and wild elven tribes battled for control from orc and ogre tribes came to Sandpoint when nobody else would accept them; and the town had developed a reputation for its acceptance of people regardless of their blood. Though as tolerant as Sandpoint was, goblin and full orc were still chased from the town with pitchforks and torches and the fel-born, or tieflings, were only tolerated for their poor choice of ancestry.

That low tolerance for tieflings had caused Qakisst some problems early in his stay at Sandpoint. Tiefling features varied greatly from one to the next, though large horns or reddish skin was not unusual among those known as the fel-born. Qakisst’s ruddy dark complexion was smoother than scholars might expect from a tiefling, but the uneducated public would not care that Qakisst’s handsome features, ruddy dark skin, and massive bull like horns denoted something other than a fel-born heritage. His first week at the Turandarok Academy in Sandpoint had been difficult because of it. Qakisst found himself in more than one fight over that first winter.

What the children of Sandpoint did not know was that Qakisst had become a beloved member of the Varisi children, especially among the Sczarni clan that were famous for their love of pranking the gadjo, and lightening their purse along the way. Members of the Sczarni clan had established themselves in Sandpoint years before as a few of the untraveled members of the Varisi people. And while the Varisi in general, and the Sczarni in particular, were not fond of schooling their children with the gadjo the openness of Sandpoint had convinced a few among them to give the Turandarok Academy a chance. The moment Qakisst entered the school rumors of his heritage and habits started, as well as the expected bullying and abuse. But within days of that the pranks started. Noise makers, strange liquids, smoke pellets, mice, and all manner of things began to appear in the desks, jackets, or packs of anybody giving Cousin Kisst trouble. For a time it seemed as if civil war were coming to Turandarok and the teaching staff did not know how to handle it.

The pranks and missing items caused endless troubles, but try as the Sandpoint bullies might the strange boy they though fel-born was never caught in the act because he was never the cause of the other students’ misfortunes. Catching Qakisst alone quickly became impossible when the tough and street savvy Sczarni always showed up just before fists could fly. The bullies within the school finally turned their attention to easier targets as one after another the less xenophobic of Sandpoint’s children became accustomed to Qakisst’s unusual nature. When combined with the enthusiastic support of the Viskalai children and the few others of Shoanti and Varisi heritage the much feared mob never materialized. After a time excessive pranks ended and items stopped disappearing quite so often; which greatly relieved the school’s teachers. They had known all along what was going on among the students, but were at a loss as for how to help Qakisst without isolating him further from the other children in the town. Fortunately the relative calm gave the young ifrit a chance to begin making friends among the orphaned children that lived at the school full time and this broke the invisible barrier between himself and the other children in his apparent age group.

This was only a temporary reprieve though. Each year the oldest students would depart to join a family business or take an apprenticeship, but Qakisst stayed behind. Even the few Varisi children that had befriended Qakisst when he first arrived moved on when they could no longer “find their shoes under their beds” as Grandmother Niska would say. Each year Qakisst hoped that the road would call to Liandra’s Varisi blood and pull them both back onto the road; yet each year Liandra became more and more a feature of Sandpoint. She had grown roots.

Having finished breakfast and started out the front door of the inn for school, Qakisst and the Viskalai children looked something like a mob roaming the streets. That mob had always kept Qakisst out of trouble in the morning on the way to school, even when it had not been able to protect him throughout the rest of the day. Korva looked at Qakisst as he drifted across the street aimlessly.

“Where is your mind wandering off without your feet, Kisst?”

“What?” Qakisst glanced up.

“You are wandering all over the street without a thought.” Korva smiled broadly at the slightly shorter ifrit, “Where has your mind wandered off too?”

“Nowhere.”

“Come on, Kisst. You’re daydreaming and the day has just started. I bet you are thinking about that young woman that comes by the Academy every week. We have all seen her. Shalla tells me that your eyes chase after her when she comes in.”

“What? What woman?”

“Do not play dumb with me, Kisst. Your spirit born not neutered. I see you watching the other girls at school.”

Qakisst’s ruddy skin tone slowly turned maroon as he blushed. “You would rather I stayed a child forever?”

“No, silly. I would rather I stayed a child forever. At least when you grow up you won’t have to walk around all fat with a baby.” Korva held her hands around an imaginary pregnant belly, arched her back and duck walked around Qakisst. The growing gaggle of children laughed and Qakisst smiled.

“You’ll be a beautiful mother one day, Korva. But for now, I think you should focus on learning your numbers.”

“And you should focus on your writing, not on the Glassworks owner’s daughter when she comes to the Academy.”

“Huh? Is that who she is?”

“See, I knew you were watching her when she comes each week in the afternoon.”

“You brought her up, and she does stand out. I thought maybe she was going to do something crazy like adopt one of the younger kids at the orphanage.”

“Nah, you probably did not know because you are not a native of Sandpoint, but she has a brother in the orphanage.”
“Wait, how does that make sense? You said she is the Glassworks owner’s daughter.”

“Yeah, but do you remember Tsuto? He was one of the worst bullies to you when you first got here.”

“I remember he got dropped in a privy head first by Kashka and Levit first week. What does that have to do with the Glassworks owner’s daughter? Tsuto is half-elll… Oh. Well that explains why he is at the academy. Honestly though, I do not really remember being picked on by Tsuto that much.”

“He was always more of an orchestrator and not a confrontationist.”

“I see that you are using the big words again.”

Korva punched Qakisst in the arm, “Bastard.”

“That is the Korva we all know and love. If your mother heard you talking like that you would be a month trying to get the taste of lye out of your mouth from eating soap.”

“Oh you are no better, hanging out with the Sczarni all through spring festival last month.”

“We are Varisi. I could not say no to family. Besides, if they are hanging out with me and drinking then they are not out scamming you Gadjo. I do it as a service to the community.”

“Oh, so you are really just being a selfless defender of the people of Sandpoint.”

“Not entirely selfless. Levit was buying. How could I say no?”

“I wonder who’s coin Levit was buying with?”

“You will have to ask Levit, but he actually has a job now so it might even have been his own. Would that not be amazing? No more apprenticeship now. He’s loading and unloading on the docks. Given his Varisi blood, he will be loading a ship someday soon and just not get off the big boat when it sets out to sea.”

“There’s that look again.”

“What look?”

“That look like you’d rather be anyplace else but here.”

Qakisst stopped in annoyance. The mob of children continued to surge past him as Korva stopped and turned back to him, “It is not that I do not want to be here. It is just that I liked traveling. I liked the open roa…” The sudden pale look on Korva’s face stopped Qakisst. “Korva, what is wrong?” He turned slowly to see what had shaken Korva so badly and saw it off the poorly lit side street just a short distance up the road from the Academy. A stray dog chewing on what looked to be a humanoid arm. Qakisst felt the blood drain from his features just as Korva’s had at the sight, but he had seen far worse in the months before Liandra found him in Korvosa and was not stunned speechless. Gripping Korva’s arm Qakisst pulled her away and turned her around, “Get the others to school. I will go get the Sherriff.” He pushed her forward towards the Academy, “Go! Get all of them into the school!”

Sandpoint is a small town, yet as close as the town’s armory and sheriff’s office were Qakisst felt like he had been running forever after the few minutes it took him to get there. The hand full of watchmen employed by the town mostly patrolled around the countryside each day making sure that the quiet community knew that they were their when needed. More time was spent running off goblins from the junk yard by the beach than anything else as Sandpoint was a quiet town. As he dashed up to the building, Qakisst nearly plowed into one of the watchmen coming out the front entrance.

“Hey tiefling, get off.” The watchman pushed Qakisst away. Before Qakisst could do or say anything the young soldier in training was pushed from behind by the next man coming out the door.

“Mind yer manners and yer tongue, Merik.” The second watchman spied Qakisst and smacked the back of his cohort’s head, “Not even fel and there you are tossing around insults like yer a big man now that we’ve given you a badge. You would be well to know that badge can still be taken away easily enough.” Qakisst had lucked out. As the second man stepped out of the guard post Qakisst recognized the powerful form of Guard Captain Belor Viskalai, the Shoanti brother to his mother’s employer and patron Garridan. “What has got you all worked up Qakisst?”

Still panting more from the excitement and shock than from exhaustion Qakisst sputtered his reply, “There’s… a body. On the side street. The side street. Korva saw it while we were walking to Academy.”

“Oh hell.” Captain Viskalai gripped the younger watchman and turned the man to face him, “Go and get the Sheriff, now.” Viskalai turned to Qakisst and looked down at the young man. “Tell me what all you saw, Qakisst.”

Finally catching his breath, though still surging with excitement. “Korva and I were walking the younglings to school when she turned around and just stopped. I looked back at what she saw and there was a dog chewing on an arm up against one of the buildings off Bent Street. I did not stop to look. I made Korva turn around and pushed her to catch the other kids. Told her to get them to school and that I was coming here.”

As Qakisst finished his brief story the sheriff stepped out from the armory looking like he had been interrupted during breakfast. “Viskalai, what is this about another body?”

Captain Viskalai came to attention quickly, “Qakisst says that one of the school girls saw a body on the walk to school. He made her take the other children the rest of the way while he came here to report what she found.”

“Do not give me that, Viskalai. You saw the body didn’t you, boy?”

“Efendim Evet. Uh, yes sir. Korva saw it first, but I saw it and made her get the other children away before they saw.” Qakisst felt tiny standing next to the two big fighters, but was relieved by the look that Sheriff Avertin gave him. He never knew how some people in Sandpoint would react, even after five years living here. The first watchman had basically dismissed him as fel-born when he had run up and Qakisst knew he would likely always have to deal with such dismissal.

“Take us there, boy. Let’s be quick about it. The dogs will be after it once the sun starts warming things up.”

“I am sorry sir, I think the dogs already have. “ Qakisst looked down and grimaced at his failure to tell Sheriff Avertin that fact.

“Damn. Merik, get up to the temple and get Reverend Tobin now. Where did you see it at, boy?” The Sheriff looked angrily, yet not angry, at Qakisst.

“Off Bent Street while walking to school.”

“Why did you not chase the dog off?” The Sheriff seemed somewhat angry as the three rushed toward Bent Street.

“I did not have anything to chase it off with, sir.”

“I know full well that you have the talent for sorcery, boy. You should have zapped it or put it to sleep?”

“I did not think catching the dog on fire would be a good idea, sir.” Qakisst carefully guarded his response to keep from showing his anger at the Sheriff. He had been finding himself more and more angry of late, but knew it would do him no good to spout off at Avertin just now.

Sheriff Avertin slowed as they approached Bent Street, “Catch the dog on fire?”

“Yes sir. My gift for sorcery comes from my birth parents'. My father was a fire sorcerer and my mother an Efreet. Other than a few harmless tricks what I am good at is making things burn.” Qakisst looked somewhat sheepish at the admission. He knew most people would not appreciate his talent should it get out of control.

“Probably a good idea, young man.” Sheriff Avertin’s change in attitude made Captain Viskalai turn to look at him. Even as the three slowed they could see the stray dog digging around something sticking out from under the edge of one of the buildings. The Sheriff knelt down and picked up a rock which he threw at the stray. “GET! Ye’ damned mutt!” The dog jumped back, growled angrily at the three men approaching then ran off up the street. “Do not limit yerself to just tossing fire and magic, lad. Sometimes a good rock is all it takes.” Pulled partway from under the foundation of the house they approached lay a badly mutilated human body.

“Yes sir.” Qakisst’s stomach flipped.

Walking slowly up to the grisly sight Sheriff Avertin turned to his subordinate, “Take the kid on to school, Viskalai. This is going to take some time. I will have Merik fetch the Mayor and an undertaker when he gets here with Reverend Tobin. Make sure that they know why he was late so he does not get into any trouble.” Sheriff Avertin then turned to Qakisst, “I may have questions later, Lad. I do not think you will have any answers for them but I will have to ask just the same.” Looking at Viskalai, “I have to ask the same questions of your niece, Viskalai. Don’t think I did not recognize her name. I know she likely won’t have any more answers than this one but I will have to ask.”

“Come on, son. Let’s get you away from here.” Captain Viskalai turned down the street towards the Turondurok Academy and ushered Qakisst away from the scene.

Qakisst turned and followed the tall guard Captain down the street, “I have seen worse in Korvosa, Captain.”

“From what your mother says I am sure that you have, Qakisst. But it was pretty obvious that this was unsettling to you as it was to us.” The Captain slapped Qakisst’s shoulder in reassurance, “And just because you have seen worse does not mean that you need to see more. I think the Sheriff is right to send you on to school. You know; if you were any other boy in school I would be telling you not to be in a rush to grow up.”

Qakisst blanched at the reference to his seemingly eternal youth. “I know that you are not trying to be rude Captain, but that does not really make me feel any better. I have been here five years and watched all my contemporaries go on to apprenticeships or wander off to find their shoes. Even Merik managed to prove himself enough to stand a watch and he can barely read Taldain.”

“He is a bit slow, but he’s a good man.”

“You mean he is an obedient idiot who will not cause too much trouble.”
“Pretty much.”

The two men walked up the steps to the Turondurok Academy entrance, “I don’t think I need an escort to Master Gandethus’ office. I am sure by now he knows why I am late.”

“Yes you do. No doubt the rumor mill has already kicked up and no doubt your showing up with an armed escort will not help, but Master Gandethus will need to know what is going on and will need proof that you are telling the truth. And I want to check on Korva as well. I would catch hell if I did not check on my own niece.” The Captain walked through the door that Qakisst had pulled open for him and strolled into the Academy.

As they walked down the hall towards Head Master Gandethus’ office the Captain made sure to continue chatting aimlessly with Qakisst. Being Shoanti in the Turonderok Academy had not been easy. Being half-blooded was even harder, but even that was nothing to being spirit touched. He imagined that it must be the worst of both rolled into one unending experience for a spirit touched child.

School that week became a colossal disaster. Rumors had started to spread through the school as soon as Qakisst did not show up before the start of school. Once word leaked out that a body had been found the rumors started to turn dark. When word finally leaked out that this was not the first body some students started talking about how Qakisst must be devouring their souls to fuel his dark sorcery. The first fight in over two years came when one of the less discreet students questioned Qakisst’s relationship with his adopted Mother, accusing both of some perverted dark magic. Gedi Thorn had thought he could get away with saying anything he wanted because he stood a full head taller than Qakisst. His broken nose quickly dissuaded him of that idea. By the time Head Master Gandethus was able to separate the two boys, and the mob surrounding them, both boys were bloodied and bruised.

The following week did not get any better. More victims were found throughout Sandpoint. Adult rumors became as dark as the student rumors; though not pointed at Qakisst. The Sheriff had come the first night to question Qakisst and Korva which started its own round of rumors that the Sheriff had to deal with during his investigation. Sheriff Avertin found his men being pulled in more and more directions as the local nobility demanded protection from the murderer now called Chopper by the locals. After the death of Lady Korvut and her son; Lady Viskalai had ordered her husband to move Liandra and Qakisst into the Black Deer for protection as word leaked out that there were over half a dozen dead so far. Liandra had agreed that Qakisst would move into the Inn for now but she herself had quietly refused to give up her place in her colorful Varisian wagon.

Qakisst argued with Liandra endlessly to move into the Inn or for them to leave the town until summer’s came. Liandra would not listen. Even though Qakisst did not understand, Liandra knew that if they left, the rumors would follow that they were responsible somehow. Had it been anyplace but Sandpoint, she would have already been gone even with the rumors. This would not have been the first bridge that a Varisi burned out of necessity; except this was Sandpoint. This was the home so many of her people came back to each winter; and Liandra could not burn that bridge. She knew in her heart that this was where she needed to be right now. Her shoes were firmly under her bed each morning, and Qakisst’s were under his. But she was a Varisi born true. Her wagon, even when the wheels did not turn was her home.

An accomplished bard, and traveler; Liandra had thought her spells could protect her. For over two weeks it looked as if they might. The silent Alarm spell had awoken her to the lock on her door being forced, and the Message spell had alerted Sheriff Avertin to come at once, but the ferocious attack of the deranged Chopper had overwhelmed her too quickly. All Liandra’s preparations had done was to delay Chopper enough that Sheriff Avertin arrived before the madman could flee. The quick and furious battle up the streets of Sandpoint between Avertin and Chopper ended with the sheriff dead and Chopper nearly so. Only later that night did Guard Captain Viskalai manage to track down the madman by the trail of blood that lead to the pathway to old Jervis Stoot’s little island home beside Junker’s Cove; and end the slaughter that resulted in the deaths of over two dozen men and women.

When Captain Viskalai found first Liandra and then Avertin dead he had directed another guard to summon both Reverend Tobin and Head Master Gandethus before departing to track down Chopper. He was sure that when Qakisst found out, nobody else would be able to contain the young man’s rage without killing him. Qakisst however, was not deranged. Nor was he inconsolable. When they went to the room he shared with Vached Viskalai they found him crying. He knew. Somehow the body knew; and as he cried inconsolably the fire that his heart-Mother had stoked carefully for 10 years grew cold and went out.

The Exchange

Should have known to put an extra space in between paragraphs. Grrrr. Too late for the older stories.

Sunwrought Festival: Part I - The Wagon:
The windows were shuttered against the bright sunrise. Since the death of his adopted mother at the hands of Sandpoint’s notorious serial killer, Chopper, Qakisst had not left the room that he had been sharing with Vachedi Viskalai in the family quarters of the Black Deer Inn. He did not speak, ate very little, and avoided everybody. Inside he was numb. That morning, as the sun struggled to reach through the windows to find him Qakisst slipped on his hated boots, washed his hands and face and made his way towards the kitchen of the Black Deer. The eyes of the big inn’s staff followed him as he walked. Nobody had seen the other-worldly young man except the Viskalai family since the death of Liandra over a month ago. Qakisst was used to being stared at and paid them no attention as he gathered a small plate of cheese and bread and walked to his traditional spot in the corner table by the kitchen.

Korva was already seated at the table when Qakisst took his seat. The eldest Viskalai daughter avoided his gaze but as soon as he had taken his seat she gripped his left arm hard and did not let go when he went to pull away. Qakisst finished the small plate and pushed it forward. Normally he would take the plate to the kitchen himself, but he did not think Korva would let go of his arm. Unexpectedly another plate appeared in front of him piled with bread and dried fruit.

“You have eaten nothing more than scrap for a month and I will not have you grow sick with melancholy.” Standing behind Qakisst with a flour covered apron, Lady Quinta Viskalai smiled at him sternly, “Master Gandethus will be glad to see you back at school soon; but not today”

“I am not going to go back to school.”

“Nonsense. You have nearly finished your lessons and Master Gandethus informed me last week that he may have an apprenticeship for you soon.” Lady Quinta turned to return to her kitchen to oversee the staff’s activities. “Finish everything on that plate, young man. If I find even a crumb left behind there will be words.”

“Your mother is awake.” Qakisst blinked, trying to absorb the brief exchange into his sluggish, still grieving mind.

Korva shrugged, “She started rising early the… after your… I think she feels responsible for not forcing your mother to stay in the Inn.” The young girl looked away unwilling to look Qakisst in the eyes. She too felt guilty about the death of Liandra Vishtani. The last victim of the notorious Chopper had died in her Varisian style wagon, parked directly behind the Black Dear Inn, just 20 feet from safety.

Tears welled up in the eyes of both Qakisst and Korva. Qakisst gripped the younger girl’s hand, still holding his arm, “Mother made her choice. Nobody argues with a Varisi or makes one stay where they do not want to.” Even as he said it, Qakisst felt the lie in the hollow words. Had he refused to stay in the inn unless she did, or had he checked up on her; had he just been there. In his mind he knew that he could not have done anything, but in his heart he knew that he could have saved his adopted mother. Should have saved her, just as he should have saved his birth mother years ago.

Vachedi and Tanjah, two of the younger Viskalai children joined them at the table, “I thought the world must be ending this morning when I saw your empty bed.” Vachedi stuffed food into his mouth around the words, “You have not moved in a month and I have been late every morning because of it.”

“Vach!” Korva’s angry voice cut across the inn.

“What? I did not want to disturb him.”

A smile crept briefly onto Qakisst’s face as he imagined the ten year old giant of a boy trying to tiptoe around the small room the two of them had been sharing since Liandra insisted that he sleep inside the safety of the inn. At just ten Vachedi was well past his height and broad enough across the shoulders to look more like a tall dwarf if he’d had any facial hair. Everybody said that the young Viskalai boy was going to put his father to shame when he was fully grown. Qakisst may have been the one with horns but Vachedi was the one with the size and grace of a bull stampeding through market square.

The brief smile on the young ifrit proved contagious enough that the three Viskalai children smiled as well. From behind them their mother’s voice commanded the three to get on their way. Qakisst moved to stand with them, but the gentile hand of their mother stopped him, “I said every bit of it, Qakisst. We have been through too much, you more than most. But that is no excuse to let yourself waste away. You can be as angry as you like, and hate me all you want, but you are sitting and finishing breakfast. School will do a few more days without you. You could do with some fresh air and Garridan could use your help today.” Qakisst settled back into his seat. He wanted to scream and shout at Lady Quinta but something inside stopped him. Someplace deep in his heart he could feel the rage building, but the rest of him remained cold.

Over the next hour Qakisst slowly picked at the food on his plate until the inn’s owner, Garridan Viskalai rescued him from breakfast. “I need an extra set of hands today. If you do not mind helping me out, I ordered some new ironware that needs to be picked up.” Garridan had just come through the kitchen entrance, and quickly ushered Qakisst out the front door of the inn. There were strange guests in the inn that morning. A small group of pilgrims that had come to see the Sandpoint temple. They stared at Qakisst as he left the inn. Qakisst found himself staring back, rage building in his heart, but still no emotion escaped.

The two departed the Black Deer and walked up Church Street. The journey was short enough; barely a ten minute walk to Sandpoint’s newer smith. Garridan was blessedly quiet as they walked. Qakisst was not sure he could stand the expressions of regret he knew were coming eventually. Not yet, anyway. As the two walked down the street he could tell people were looking his way, but did not care if it was in concern or the more traditional nosiness that Sandpoint was infamous for.

While Savah Bevaniky preferred to work in weapons, and there was plenty of call for weapons in a frontier town like Sandpoint, the bread and butter of any smith was always common metalwork. Savah was good at both, but nobody made a sharper knife. Qakisst followed Garridan through the door to the shop, shoulders slumped. Both men were used to hearing the ring of a smith’s hammer coming from the former warehouse turned armory but all the two could hear as they entered the old warehouse building was shouting. Garridan looked at Qakisst then around the large building for the source of the commotion.

“I do not care if it is wet! You were supposed to stock the fuel bins last night before making sure you had banked the furnace! It is nearly 9 bells now and I could not climb into the forge for fear of frost bite!”

“M’Lady Bevaniky, please. The wood was wet last nigh…”

“DO NOT M’LADY ME! Of course it was wet! It has rained the last three nights. That is why you STOCK IT against the forge to dry the night before and bank the forge!” Savah Bevaniky railed at her oldest apprentice before the nearly cold forge. Smoke from the wet wood hissed from the forge into the chimney as two younger apprentices dutifully cranked the bellows trying to bring life back to the blast furnace. Both younger teens looked as if they would rather be playing hide and seek with rabid goblin dogs than trapped in Savah’s Armory right now.

The older apprentice looked over Savah’s shoulder pleadingly at Garridan and Qakisst but got no sympathy. Garridan believed greatly in hard work, and Qakisst had spent nearly 20 years running the bellows of his master’s forge in Qadira as a small child. Seeing the young man’s gaze over her shoulder Savah turned to greet her customers with enthusiasm.

“Garridan! My good friend how are you doing this morning?”

“We are well enough, considering.” Garridan looked past Savah at the struggling apprentices with a slight smirk, “I will wager though that you are going to tell me disappointing news this morning.”

“Not at all. I had to have your order finished to let it cool yesterday;” Savah turned her head so her workers could hear, “before we lost the SECRET TO FIRE!”

“M’Lady,” Qakisst’s use of the term Savah despised drew a slightly annoyed look from her but he paid it no mind, “May I? I have more training in the bellows than your apprentices yet have.”

“Has he?” Savah looked at Garridan somewhat disbelieving.

“It is news to me; but he has never lied to me and I do not see why he would now.” Garridan looked somewhat bemused. He had known Qakisst and his adopted mother for nearly five years, but really knew nothing of the young man’s past before he had come to Sandpoint.

“You cannot hurt anything cranking a bellows. Have at it boy.” Savah’s look of disapproval at her staff caused them to back off from the still cooling forge.

“Back on the bellows, both of you.” Qakisst directed the two younger teens. Both of them looked past him at Savah. Savah nodded her approval. The young ifrit then began grabbing the still wet wood off the top of the smoldering coals from the open face of the furnace. He grimaced in slight pain as the logs had grown hot, but not so hot he could not handle them; and threw the logs at the older apprentice’s feet. “Log splitter.” The apprentice just stared. Qakisst turned to him, “Get… the… log splitter. The heavy wedge over there and split these down to splinters or the water will never evaporate. You will need the tree core cut clean for the heart of the fire.”

The older apprentice glared at Qakisst. The simultaneous bellow from Qakisst and Savah shook him from his stubbornness, “MOVE!” Startled the teen jumped back nearly falling over the pile of wet wood. Garridan chuckled slightly at the sight but Savah just glared.

“You have the bellows vent half closed. Open it all the way.” Qakisst pointed to the heavy iron valve that connected the bellows to the bottom of the fire pit through a long fire-forged steel pipe. One of the younger apprentices jumped to open the valve as Qakisst turned back to Savah, “M’Lady, is that dwarven fire-forge you have for your bellows pipe?”

Savah’s right eyebrow rose as she responded, “It is.” A quizzical expression crossed the former adventurer turned armorer’s face as she began to study Qakisst. “Boy, where did you learn to tell fire-forge from regular steel?”

“Korvosa, M’Lady. We did not see such things in Qadira that I remember, but the best forges in Korvosa have proper fire-forge tools and fittings. They are expensive for sure, but they do not need replacing near as often and it saves you plenty of blisters. You can use iron cast, but you wind up replacing it every year as it burns through.”

“I don’t have fire-forged tools, but sure that you are right about the fittings.” She turned to Garridan, “You planning to put in a forge, Garridan? Cause your apprentice seems to know a lot about running one.” Qakisst glanced back at the two older adults, not sure what would give Savah the idea of him apprenticing to the inn keeper.

“He is not my apprentice, Savah. His mother was a family friend and we will look out for him till he apprentices. Master Gandethus says he may have found Qakisst an apprenticeship and he is certainly ready. Though I am not sure I want to let him go yet.”

“Oh? You never struck me as sentimental, Garridan.” Savah watched as Qakisst took the heavy wedge from the bigger teen and began demonstrating how small to split the water soaked logs to get at the drier dense core wood.

“In his case I might be; but the truth is, I never worry about the wood stocks for my stove.”

“I might have to have a talk with Master Gandethus then.” Savah turned to Garridan, “Let us get your wares, Garridan while your ward shows mine how to make a lady happy.” While Savah turned toward the front of the warehouse turned armory the older teen glared at Qakisst.

Once the two elders were out of earshot, “I know who you are Nevis Kergan.” Qakisst continued splitting the wet outer quarter from the soaked logs. “So you can quit glaring at me and split the rest of that pile. You would have been doing it anyway once Savah realizes you dampened the bellows on purpose and left the timber out to get wet just so you could slack off today.” Qakisst looked at the two younger teens still cranking the bellows. “Don’t let this idiot fool you. Lady Savah would have figured it out and then you would be all day and half the night paying for it.”

“How the hell would you know what Savah can figure out?” Nevis puffed out his chest and flexed his arms threateningly.

Qakisst turned to face Nevis, “Because I figured it out from clear across the room standing in the doorway watching you. I actually bet she had it figured out already, but wanted a reason to keep yelling at you in front of these two so they would not be stupid enough to go along with your stupid plans next time.” Qakisst raised his left hand holding it close to himself while the larger teen blustered, then fire oozed from the palm of Qakisst’s hand licking along his fingertips, “And before you convince yourself that you are man enough to take the freakish half-born I think you should know that when we first met, the only reason I did not burn your face off was because I promise my mother that I would give Sandpoint a chance.” The elemental power surged through Qakisst’s hand and he directed the burst into the still warm forge causing the split log cores that he had just tossed onto the coal-bed to erupt in white hot fire.

Nevis paled at the display of magical power but refused to back down, “So what. Your mother’s dead now.”

“So what reason do I have not to burn your face off if you are stupid enough to take a swing this time?” Nevis Kergan backed up falling over the wood splitter he had dropped to the floor a moment earlier. The two younger apprentices quietly laughed as Qakisst turned and left.

Qakisst walked up to the work counter where Garridan and Savah had gathered an impressive stack of metal-ware for the Black Deer’s kitchen. “How long did it take you to figure out that half-Whit’s game, boy?”

“As soon as I saw how hard the other two where cranking the bellows with no air poring through the coal-bed, M’Lady.” Qakisst began gathering up the heavy cast iron kettles in such a way that he would be able to carry them for Garridan on the walk back to the Black Deer.

“And why did you step in.”

“The other two don’ deserve to suffer with him. Nevis always bullied others into doing his dirty work, or in keeping quiet while he tries to cheat the system. I bet he didn’ care how much you yelled at him if he could watch the others crank the bellows all day. I bet he found it funny.”

Garridan looked past Qakisst to the forge at the far end of the large workshop, “I do not think he is laughing much right now.”

“Be careful that you do not make too many enemies, boy. Though right now I would bet you have made more friends. Perhaps I should put young Mr. Kegan back on the bellows for a few months to teach him how a proper armory works. I am certain he will want to thank both of us later.” Savah’s wicked grin made Garridan laugh. “Qakisst, you can grace the door of my shop any time. I am sure Nevis will enjoy the company.”

The next few days saw a similar slate of simple tasks and errands with either Garridan or Lady Quinta. Each task would normally be handled by the shop keepers around Sandpoint for customer orders as large as the Black Deer would require, but Garridan and Quinta felt that these simple tasks would get Qakisst moving. The last of the tasks required a pull cart and a trip to Sandpoint’s most famous industry, the Kaijitsu Glassworks. Qakisst trudged along behind Garridan pulling the borrowed cart behind him to the warehouse entry to the glassworks. Garridan directed him to wait here by the large service door with the cart and walked about to the far end of the building and the main entrance for the business. Qakisst stood dutifully next to the cart waiting while the large doors at the back of the building opened up and workers shuffled around the warehouse style entrance. None seemed to pay him any attention, though Qakisst’s young ears could hear the change in tone even if he could not understand the strange dialect several of the workers spoke.

The Kaijitsu family had emigrated across the Crown of the World to the Varisia area generations ago to escape conflict in the distant Tian Xia region. They had brought with them family servants, traditions, and language unlike anything in Varisia, a land known for being exotic when compared to the rest of the Inner Sea, which made them especially exotic in Sandpoint. Qakisst found them fascinating.

After staring quietly at the working staff for a moment Qakisst heard Garridan’s voice as the big Shoanti inn keeper and Lonjiku Kaijitsu, head of the insular Kaijitsu family, entered the loading area from an inner doorway to the glassworks’ office area. Both men walked towards the big doors as Lonjiku directed several workers to grab crates and boxes. Garridan motioned Qakisst to bring the cart forward which Qakisst did quickly.

“You are certain that I cannot have my servants deliver your glassware, Master Viskalai?” Lonjiku did not look at Qakisst, yet the ifrit could feel the displeasure towards him. “The crates are quite heavy.”

“M’Lord Kaijitsu, young Qakisst is quite capable of handling the task. We would not want to tie up your workers with such mundane work would we, Qakisst?

“No sir.”

At the simple reply Lonjiku glared at Qakisst with displeasure. The simple act of a polite reply to Garridan seemed to offend the Tian Xia native’s sense of order, but he let it past. Instead he pulled up his clip board, pulled out several documents and had Garridan sign them as the workers loaded crates into the cart. Moments later the two were on their way back to the Black Deer.

“He did not like me being there, did he?” Qakisst pulled the cart up Sand Street toward Main.

“What would make you think that, Qakisst?”

“The fact that he turned reddish, glared at me like he had caught me in his daughter’s room, then immediately tried to talk you into letting his staff deliver the glassware.”

“Has he caught you in his daughter’s bedroom?”

Qakisst laughed, “Hayır! NO! I have not even met his daughter. But I get that look sometimes from parents that have daughters. I can actually tell sometimes if somebody has a teenage daughter by how they glare at me.”

“That is an interesting trick. Wish I had figured it out when I was a young man.” Garridan smiled at the thought as the two walked on, “But you did know he had a daughter, didn’t you? Korva has told her mother that she catches you staring at Ameiko.”

“Ben bakıyorum yok!” Qakisst looked indignant and angrily at the big Shoanti inn keeper, “I just know I used to see her come to the academy about once a week near the end of classes.” Qakisst tried to remember the last time he had seen the young woman entering the academy building while he and his friends were playing games in the courtyard. “She has not been around since before…. She wasn’t one of Chopper’s victims, was she?” The thought turned Qakisst’s stomach with an unexpected violence and he looked to Garridan.

“No, she has not been seen much since her Mother passed away earlier this spring. Only close friends were allowed at the funeral. Apparently the boy Tsuto showed up making wild accusations accusing his step-father of killing her. There was a scuffle and Lonjiku cracked the boy with his cane. Broke the boy’s jaw, or so they say. The healers fixed him up well enough, but he took off after that and I think Lonjiku is glad to be rid of him. Since the boy left for who knows where, you probably will not get to stare at Ameiko much anymore; at least not at school.” Garridan watched Qakisst closely for his reaction.

“I did not stare at her.” Despite Qakisst’s declaration Garridan could see the mild disappointment in his expression. It meant that the boy was feeling something other than grief and self-pity.

“As my people say, ‘If you must aim high, shoot the sky.’” Garridan pointed into the sky.

“Shoanti do not say that.” Qakisst looked at Garridan through slitted eyes.

“It sounds better than, ‘Kill everything. The gods know their own.’”

“That sounds more like the Shoanti.” Both men smiled as they turned the wagon up Cliff Street towards the Black Deer Inn.

Qakisst returned to school in late Gozran, the week after Taxfest. Qakisst was always particularly fond of any festival, though for this one he had stayed in the inn. He did not feel much like celebration. But the following week, at Lady Quinta’s insistence he returned to school. That morning as he walked along to school with the Viskalai children, and several others that lived on the north side of Sandpoint, Qakisst felt somewhat out of place. Things had changed since Korva found the body of one of Chopper’s victims while walking this very road to school less than four months ago.

As the group of children and teens entered the school grounds; others already there took note of Qakisst’s presence and the tone of the group shifted subtly. “Hey look, its Chopper’s little buddy.” Gedi Thorn shouted from the far side of the steps to the academy grounds. His still crooked nose had not taught him any lessons since he had picked a fight with Qakisst shortly after Chopper’s first victims had turned up. Gedi’s friends all rolled their eyes and looked away from Gedi.

“Not again, Gedi.” Pavo Korbit slapped the bigger teen’s chest. The other boys jumped up to get away from Gedi and the target of his ire. “Why can’t you just let it be?” Gedi Thorn glared at his friend before returning his attention to Qakisst.

“Ignore it.” Korva urged Qakisst up the steps as several of the younger children in their group returned Gedi’s taunts.

“Ignore what?” Qakisst hissed through clenched teeth. “I cannot hear anything through that broken schnoz on the end of his ugly face.” Korva and Qakisst kept their eyes straight ahead as they mounted the stairs. Gedi was having none of that as he surged across the top of the landing in front of the academy.

“You’re gonna get your face broke again, Gedi.” Pavo pleaded with his friend.

“Did she like it, freak when you had your fun before you slit her whoring throat?” Gedi held up his left hand open blocking Qakisst and Korva’s path. Rage surged in Qakisst’s eyes as the larger boy readied himself for the fight, determined not to be outdone this time.

As fire licked along the palms of Qakisst’s hands and his vision began to turn red a blur passed his eyes just before he could unleash the elemental power in his heart. The raging scream of Shoanti swear words so startled Qakisst that the fire in his palms briefly singed the tips of his own fingers before going out. Barely taller than his own three and three quarters cubits, Qakisst watched as Korva Viskalai tackled and pummeled the much taller and more massive Gedi Thorn with the berserker fury of her Shoanti ancestors. Both Qakisst and Vachedi stared in disbelief for only a moment.

“Remind me never to piss my sister off.”

“Korva!” Qakisst reached forward to grab her arm twice before finally catching one. His attempt stirred Vachedi to action and the younger Viskalai boy grabbed Korva’s other arm pulling her from the panicked and screaming Gedi. Blood streamed down Gedi’s face as two of his friends pulled him up off the ground.

“Gedi, you are such an idiot.” Pavo looked fearfully back at Qakisst and Vachedi holding Korva back as she still spat expletives in at least three languages at Gedi. He and Gel Ursion drug the drooling Gedi to his feet as one of Turandarok’s teachers rushed out the entry a look of stark terror on his face.

“Stop! Stop this at once!” Some of the children laughed since Qakisst and Vachedi had obviously stopped the fight already. Blood covered not just Gedi but Korva as well. While not nearly as fast, the more powerful Gedi had managed to get in a punch or two, but simply could not keep up with the enraged Korva. Though as her breathing finally calmed, the swelling in her lip and left eye began to show. Gedi for his part had two black eyes already, both lips swollen, a broken nose again, and blood streaming from his mouth where Korva had knocked two of his teeth out.

Head Master Gandethus strolled out from the main doors to the Academy, having heard the commotion from the small classrooms above the entry. At the sight of him most of the students that had not already rushed into the building when the teacher arrived dashed inside to avoid any of the unfortunate consequences. “Gedi Thorn, I am so glad to see that you have decided to dress your best when you knew you had an appointment today for a possible apprenticeship.” Both boys holding Gedi up mouthed the word ‘idiot’ at him. “Korva, I have to say that I did not expect this.” Korva stared back with barely controlled anger but did not speak. “I will need to see you in my office again once you are done in the infirmary.” Turning to face Gedi, “Boys, make sure that Mister Thorn manages to get to the infirmary without falling down the stairs. His interview is waiting for him upstairs in classroom four.”

“Yes sir.” The two young men supporting Gedi drug him towards the entry. As one pulled the door open both boys whispered, “Idiot.”

“It is very good to see you Qakisst. Vachedi, you have classes. Best get too them. Ms. Viskalai, when you are done in the infirmary I will be waiting.”

“Yes sir.” Korva’s barely contained rage slowly cooled as the prospect of explaining her black eye and fat lip to her mother; but her dower expression did not change as she marched into the school behind Vachedi. Qakisst went to follow, but Master Gandethus stopped him.

“We have a few lesson plans for you to finish up, but I have a couple of interested employers that would like to speak to you this week if possible. I informed both that you will be happy to see them once I am satisfied that we have completed your Mother’s wishes that you complete your coursework.” Qakisst reddened at the mention of his Mother but made no comment as Master Gandethus lead the way into the school. “We will have to go upstairs to the interview rooms to start. I am afraid Mr. Thorn has done more than pick a fight. He picked the wrong fight at the worst time.” Qakisst followed Master Gandethus up the main stairs and around to the front of the building to one of the smaller class rooms that were commonly used for interviews when students applied for apprenticeships outside their own families. The number four in golden paint adorned the door frame above the patterned glass window in the door.

The two entered the room and Qakisst stopped in his tracks. On the far side of the room next to a window overlooking the entrance to the school, balanced as if in mid stride stood Guard Captain, and acting Sheriff, Belor Viskalai; Korva’s uncle. Qakisst’s mouth gaped wide. “I am terribly sorry Captain. But as much as he seemed to deserve it, I could not let you go running one of my students through for getting into a fight with your niece.” Gandethus snapped his fingers and the Captain surged forward unrestrained nearly plowing into Qakisst. The Captain was furious and once he had his balance railed against Gandethus with language Qakisst had never heard. Twice the Captain peered out the window then started in again shouting at Gandethus.

The Head Master waited a moment for the yelling to stop, but when it did not he leaned over towards Qakisst and calmly spoke through the Captain’s rage, “The other students will be using the library this afternoon trying to learn new curse words, I should think.” The never before seen frankness of Master Gandethus puzzled Qakisst and put a dampener on Captain Viskalai’s verbal sputtering. Gandethus turned back to the Captain, “I did apologize, and I truly am sorry about that.” Qakisst wished he was anywhere else at that moment but was certain that the Head Master had brought him along for a reason. Your interviewee will be along shortly Captain, once the infirmary has done their best to patch him back up.” The sudden blank stare on Captain Viskalai’s face echoed the one on Qakisst’s. “I have a feeling you will instruct him to seek other opportunities since he does not even seem to be able to handle himself with one teenage girl. Please try to do so without adding to his physical injuries. You may do as you wish with his pride though.” Gandethus slipped back out the door, “Please join me in my office Mr. Vistani. As soon as you can.”

Qakisst turned and stared at Captain Viskalai. The long silence left the ifrit shuffling his feet nervously. “You did not do anything wrong, Qakisst. I am angry, but not at you.” The Captain nearly shook with anger even now.

“Korva…”

“No. I heard exactly what the boy said.” Captain Viskalai glanced over his shoulder, “Open windows.” Both men smiled at that comment. “I will have to talk to Korva abou…”

“No.” Qakisst’s interruption startled the Captain.

“What?” A glint of the Captain’s previous anger sparked in his eyes.

“Korva is really going to get it from Lady Quinta already. She does not know that you are here and she is going to be embarrassed enough. I know you are her favorite Uncle, but…”

“I am her only uncle.”

“…but she will be mortified if she thinks you saw that.”

“I did see that.”

“Please? It is bad enough that you are about to interview the person she just beat up.”

Viskalai burst into laughter, “That was…” wiping a tear from his eye, “Gedi Thorn?”

“I thought you realized that from the Head Master’s comments. I doubt that Gedi even realizes that you are Korva’s uncle.”

“Everybody in town knows that I am Korva’s uncle.”

“Gedi just is not very smart, Captain. And he was not picking a fight with Korva; he was trying to pick another fight with me.”

“Well, I cannot have complete idiots on the watch that go picking fights. Since he could not even handle a fourteen year old girl I think I can leave family out of the decision.” Captain Viskalai did not look happy about the impending interview, “I have no idea what I am going to tell his parents though. They begged me to give him this interview.”

“I do not know, Sir.” Qakisst looked over his shoulder, “Captain, do you need me? I think the Head Master is waiting for me.”

“He is.” Qakisst turned to leave, “I saw that Korva was not the only person that nearly lost her temper down there, Qakisst.”

Qakisst paused in the door, “I think she saved Gedi’s life, Sir.”

“I think she just saved both your lives, young man.” Captain Hemlock spoke to the empty room just before the battered and bruised Gedi Thorn knocked on the door, his clothes still covered in blood.

Qakisst passed Gedi in the hall on his way to Master Gandethus’ office. The larger boy glared through squinted eyes due to the swelling in his face. Magical healing could fix the damage, but so could time and spell casting had costs. Children fighting did not warrant such expense in most cases so no attempt was made to summon a healer from temple. Qakisst smiled at his fellow student and the student escorting him to his doomed interview. Gedi’s escort, Pavo Korbit, mouth to Qakisst as they passed, “Sorry. He’s an idiot.” When he reached the bottom step Qakisst heard the younger student, “No way, Gedi. You are on your own. Just because you are stupid enough to pick a fi…”

As he walked quickly down the hall way Qakisst felt a little tiny surge of happiness. He did not so much enjoy the idea of Gedi Thorn being told no on his apprenticeship application, but he did approve of life slapping him down for his own actions. While the faithful of Sarenrae did not actually hold to the concept of Karma; Qakisst truly liked the idea that his fellow student was getting exactly what he had earned.

Qakisst stopped in front of Master Gandethus’ door. He did not hear anything through the door and so knocked softly. “Please enter.” Qakisst opened the door to find Master Gandethus seated behind a large oak desk. Sitting across the desk from Master Gandethus sat two people. Vorvashali Voon and Savah Bevinaky. “Master Voon, Lady Bevinaky, this is Qakisst. The lad that you have both inquired about as an apprentice.” Qakisst felt surprise at the unexpected meeting. “No, my boy, this is not your formal interview. I had other things to discuss with you so that you could prep for your final exams when my guests showed up to speak to me. You would have taken your exams a few weeks ago if not for unfortunate happenstance.” Qakisst paled slightly at the reference to the unpleasant events that had devastated his life of late and both visiting employers seemed to feel uncomfortable as well. “I simply did not want to leave you sitting in the hall waiting. Come back after classes this afternoon and we will work out the arrangements for your tests. You can join the language students in the south classroom.”

“Thank you Sir; and thank you both for your considerations in me.” Qakisst quietly closed the door and noted that any sound from the room ceased the moment the door closed. He squinted, as he had been taught years before and saw the faint aura of abjuration on the door. Smiling he turned to head back down to the linguistics classroom and found Korva standing behind him. “Hi.” Qakisst grinned at his friend standing there.

“You must think horrible things about me.” Korva spoke softly looking at her shoes for some guidance in the conversation.

Qakisst placed a finger under the young Shoanti girl’s chin and brought her face up to face his, “You are my best friend. I could never think horrible things about you.” Korva smiled, then grimaced at the pain from her swollen lip and blackened eye. “You had better sit over there.” Qakisst pointed to a chair across from Master Gandethus’ office. “The Head Master is in a meeting so he has sent me back to class, but he is still going to want to see you.” Qakisst watched Korva settle into her chair then turned and walked down the hall. Korva stared at him as he walked away. She smiled again because she heard it in his voice. Friends. A slow tear rolled down her cheek once he was gone.

Just over two weeks past as Qakisst finished his final exams before the Sunwrought Festival, demonstrating to Head Master Gandethus that the last four and a half years had not been wasted. Qakisst interviewed with both Master Voon and Master Bevinaky. After promising to never use the hated possessive, ‘M’Lady’ in reference to his new employer Qakisst arranged to begin work the first day after the Sunwrought Festival. With the last few days before Festival Qakisst took to the unpleasant task of cleaning the wagon that was his home. He had inherited it from Liandra upon her death, but everything in the wagon had been soaked in her blood and it had to be stripped bare. Most people had expected him to try and sell it, or even burn it. Even the old Junker, Gorvi, had offered to buy it for scrap; but a Varisi’s wagon was his home. Qakisst spent days cleaning the stains and pulling out damaged parts. On the day before Festival he found the box. Built into the floor under Liandra’s bed was a secret compartment. Qakisst had expected to find it eventually. Every Varisi wagon had at least one. He had expected to find a hand full of coins saved for a rainy day and a weapon or two along with any family heirlooms.

Qakisst pulled the box out of the compartment with shaking hands. Liandra had no blood relations. She had been unable to bear children so had chosen to adopt boys in need. There had only been four. Qakisst had only met two of the other three. Doritian, who traveled with other Varisi caravans exploring the world; and Caster Benjamin, who had helped to rescue Qakisst from the mob in Korvosa ten years ago.

“I wondered if you would find it before I arrived.” The voice behind him startled Qakisst into action.

“CASTER!” The young ifrit leapt from the wagon to nearly tackle the man he had come to think of as his older brother. The two tumbled to the grass. Qakisst felt a surge of happiness and anger all at once. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Why weren’t you here!?!” Tears welled up in Qakisst’s eyes as weeks of denial and the stress of clearing the wagon broke free. Joy and sorrow and rage overwhelmed him all at once and the floodgates could not be closed.

Caster Benjamin gripped the sobbing ifrit tightly. Though Qakisst was nearly twice his age the difference in how the planes-touched aged made him the more mature emotionally. As Qakisst poured out his anger and rage in sobbing tears Benjamin silently cried with him. The emotional storm ended after a time and Qakisst sat up across from Benjamin in the grass.

“I still hear her when I am sleeping. Telling me not to cry.”

Benjamin looked Qakisst in the eye carefully. The trauma of learning that his heart-Mother had been taken from this world had shaken Benjamin to the core. He worried that it would do far worse to Qakisst, who had led such a tragic life before Liandra found him. But the look of sadness in Qakisst’s eyes showed no sign of madness; only the anger and grief of a young man who has had his life ripped apart. “Perhaps her spirit has been given permission to speak across the void to you. It happens sometimes to good spirits with a task undone.”

“No.” A deeper sadness crept into Qakisst’s voice, “I know she messaged Sheriff Avertin for help. That is the only way he could have known who had attacked her and gotten here so fast.” Qakisst accepted the kerchief Benjamin handed him, “I think she messaged me too. I woke up that night. I had just had a dream and in it she told me she loved me. She said, ‘Don’t cry; I love you my heart-son, be brave, be free.’” Tears welled up again in Qakisst’s eyes but he managed to control himself for a moment. “She was making sure to say goodbye to me. She knew I would blame myself.” Silent tears fell once more.

Soft foot falls on the grass alerted both of them that they had a visitor, “It is good to see you once more Caster Benjamin.” Lady Quinta strolled around the back of the Black Deer Inn having come out to check on Qakisst. She wished he would just burn the wagon, but understood why he could not. “I must say that I expected a letter first when we sent notice of your Mother’s,… I am so terribly sorry for both of you.”

Qakisst looked away painfully. He knew the matron of Black Deer blamed herself as much as anybody did, but found it too painful to talk about with her. Benjamin looked up to her from his seat in the grass and smiled a pained smile, “We cannot turn back the wheels on the road. But we can continue the path she started.”

“Varisi have such wonderfully colorful expressions.” Lady Quinta looked out over the cliffs to the sea. The brief crack in her perfect presentation of herself closed up. Proper Chelaxian women did not give into displays of excess emotion, but everybody knew how deeply Quinta cared. “You will of course stay for Festival with us?”

“I would never argue with the Lady of the Manor.” Benjamin smiled broadly at Lady Quinta before turning to Qakisst seated in the grass in front of him. “And you good sir, you found a box did you not?”

“How did you know that?” Qakisst looked puzzled at Benjamin.

“Because you were digging under the bed when I came up, and I know that is where she kept it.” Benjamin rose to his feet. “I never got a look inside it though. Doritian was the one with the talent for locks and he had grown up before I came along.”

“Do they know?”

“Doritian and Beshkee? I do not know.” Benjamin looked past Qakisst at Lady Quinta, who stood silently behind the two.

“We did not know how to contact them. I don’t even think Liandra knew how.”

“I will have to see if I can find them once I return to Galdruria. Maybe I can scry them out with a little help. It just is not my strongest skill though.” Benjamin turned back to Qakisst, who now sat in the door in the back of the wagon holding an ornate wooden box with Varisi rune patterns carved into it.

“It is not magical. There are no arcane seals on it.” Qakisst quipped. Benjamin smiled with pride. He had taught the young sorcerer to see magical auras himself nearly eight years ago. “I have not found a key though.” The box was locked tight and Qakisst found.

“I think I can help.” The two men turned to Lady Quinta. “Your mother’s effects were gathered once the caretakers had come. I placed them in the safe inside the inn. I think there was a key on a short chain.”

“I know it. She always wore it as a bracelet on her left wrist.” Qakisst seemed eager and anxious at once. Lady Quinta dashed back into the inn to retrieve the key returning moments later.

Qakisst and Benjamin set the box on the running board beneath the door into the wagon and slipped the key into place. The lock opened smoothly and the lid opened. Within the box rested a long scarlet Varisian scarf upon which set an envelope. Qakisst lifted the scarf out as Benjamin opened the folded pages of a note from within the envelope. Ornate runes in the Thassilonian alphabet favored by the Varisi covered the scarf. Qakisst read the names of Liandra’s family going back generations leading up to four names at the end of the scarf. Dortian, Beskee, Benjamin, and Qakisst. Above them two names, one connected to all four boys by golden thread read ‘Liandra Vishtani’ and the other connected to Qakisst’s name read ‘Ssstastiss’. Benjamin read the note out loud, “I have awaited this day for so long. The day you will at last be your own man, free of any other person’s demands. Whether you find yourself chasing your boots down the road or taking a trade here on the sands of our winter home does not matter. You are the fire in my heart and I love you my son, Qakisst Vishtani. My little Varisipen. Be free my son and know that I am always with you. Liandra.” The tears started again.

The Exchange

Sunwrought Festival: Part II - The Dance:

The next morning Qakisst returned to temple for the first time since Liandra’s passing. He found doing so somewhat uncomfortable as many of the Dawnflower Sarenrae’s other worshipers poured condolences upon him. When he went to depart, he found himself confronted by a young lady named Nualia. She had been disheveled and her comments incoherent. Immediately after she stopped him she had collapsed as acolytes of Desna had rushed to help her. Qakisst had not known her well, but he did know that Nualia had not been well. The encounter disturbed him, but not for long. He had a great deal to do and today was the Sunwrought Festival; the day that young people coming of age were introduced to society as their own person.

After temple Qakisst spent hours working with the gift Liandra had left for him hidden in the secret compartment in the floor boards of their wagon. The long intricate scarfs that told the history of a Varisi’s heritage were treasures to them. Some scarfs recorded family names going back more than a millennium. From what Qakisst and Caster Benjamin could tell; the scarf Liandra had made for Qakisst denoted their family history for over five hundred years making it a very respectable history. And though Liandra had been unable to bear children herself she had added the names of her four adopted sons to this scarf as well as the name of Qakisst’s birth mother. This was Qakisst’s family, never to be forgotten.

The intricate gold thread on red silk spelled out the names in the Thassilonian runes commonly used by the Varisi covering just over three quarters of the length. The remaining length was Qakisst’s to fill in time, along with his eventual descendants. When Qakisst had asked Caster Benjamin about the blank space his brother had laughed.

“She expects grandchildren one day.”

“Maybe from you!” Qakisst made an expression of mock indignation at his adopted brother.

“Oh I think she had her hopes on you. She didn’t give me a fifteen foot long family history. I got the journal version.” Caster Benjamin winked at Qakisst, “Besides, the ascetic lifestyle is not always conducive to family. I may not have taken vows of chastity or poverty, but few members of the clergy have enough coin to keep a lady in the style she deserves.”

Both men laughed as Qakisst continued to carefully wind the ornate scarf around his haramaki for the fourth time. Benjamin had not been sure about Qakisst’s choice to replace the tattered old wrap around the chainmail belly warmer that he had worn since even before they had met ten years ago but could not deny that it made the battered old belt look fantastic. As Qakisst finished the wrap he whipped the haramaki around his abdomen and locked it into place. Normally Qakisst had worn the traditional colorful garb of the Varisi, but for Festival today he had decided to dress in the traditions of his original homeland. Sandaled feet, light but colorful leggings under a traditional leather loin cloth with a broad armored belt covering the abdomen topped with an open half-vest with no sleeves. The haramaki was traditionally wrapped in a silk or linen sash that was much shorter than the scarf, so Qakisst had wrapped the scarf carefully in a double loop pattern that had taken hours to perfect.

The look was dramatic, and would likely scandalize Sandpoint for years. The far more modest Chelish population had issues with the Shoanti tendency to show bare legs and arms. The Qadiran tradition of unlanded or unwed men to show off their torso with minimal cover during celebrations and festivals would catch the eye of every pretty girl and every fearful father. Despite his otherworldly heritage Qakisst had managed to make lots of friends throughout Sandpoint and while the young ifrit always felt like the looks he got were due to his prominent inhuman horns, more than a few were staring because of his otherworldly beauty. He was young, fit, and strong while having the mercurial essence of fire and smoke. Dressed in the traditions of his homeland the effect was startling.

“Every father in town is going to hate you.”

“What? Why?

“Because every young lady in town is going to be chasing you.”

“That is not funny, Caster.”

“I think you long ago earned the right to call me Benjamin, little brother.” Benjamin pushed Qakisst in front of the small mirror mounted on the wall of the room he had been sharing with Vachedi Viskalai for the last few months, grabbed both of the smaller man’s horns above his head, and shook. “And these are not the detractor you think they are.” Benjamin released his grip on the bull like horns. “Master Garridan is right to call you spirit-born. You have the beauty of the Efreet cast onto a human frame. Any woman that does not notice you is blind, or sayach.”

Qakisst looked nervously away from the mirror, “I think you need your eyes checked by a healer.”

“Little brother, you make the mistake of thinking people are staring at you because they are scared of you. They are envious.” Benjamin pulled open the door and ushered Qakisst out into the hall of the family quarters in the back of the Black Deer Inn. “The other boys at school were not picking on you because they think you a freak. You are competition and they cannot compete so they try to tear you down to push you out of the way. It is your otherworldliness that makes you attractive so they attack that to make you doubt yourself.”

Qakisst looked dubious as the two walked out the narrow hall into the common room of the inn. “I do not think I am going to get a fairytale reaction from the crowd.”

“I was not expecting one. But you are not going to get a horror story reaction either.” Benjamin nudged Qakisst forward. “I will catch up later. Father Tobin has asked for my help in temple with so many pilgrims in town.”

Korva spotted the two coming out of the back hall and dashed up to them grabbing Qakisst’s right arm and hugging it tight. “You are worse than Mother when getting ready for anything.”

Benjamin leaned in to Qakisst’s left side and whispered, “Fairytale” before heading out the front entrance of the inn. Qakisst glared at him as he left.

“What was that about?” Korva looked at Qakisst, still clinging to his arm expecting him to escort her to the town center for a day of fun.

Qakisst lied, “No idea.” Korva’s grip warmed him, but also worried Qakisst. He knew Korva saw him differently than the Chelish residents of Sandpoint, but she was his best friend and the idea of messing that up in any way terrified him.

“What is this!? How am I supposed to get anybody to dance with me if you are walking around looking like Sarenrae’s personal escort?” The younger Vachedi gestured to Qakisst’s outfit. Other residents of the inn glanced toward the trio, some smiled, some grimaced; all went back to their own affairs. The wait staff of the inn stared longer, all grinning at the young trio. This would be Qakisst and Korva’s first Festival as adults. Both had been accepted to apprenticeships over the previous weeks and were now expected to begin building their own lives.

As the three exited the inn Korva laughed, “I guess I will just have to keep him busy so the other girls need a dance partner.”

“I am right here, both of you.” Qakisst protested as they found themselves standing in front of Garridan Viskalai, Korva and Vachedi’s father.

“This is traditional Qadiran festival garb?” Garridan looked sternly at Qakisst.

“Yes Sir.” Qakisst felt a sudden need to shrink as his birth mother’s people could.

“It is a good think that Lady Quinta is busy right now. She would be scandalized.” The big Shoanti smiled then stepped past the three into his inn.

“You turned the color of brass.” Vachedi punched Qakisst in the left arm while grinning. “Race you both.” The big Viskalai boy thundered down the street toward the celebration. Qakisst and Korva looked at each other and laughed.

“After you.” Qakisst motioned forward.

“Not in this skirt, not on your life.” Korva’s colorful skirt done in traditional Shoanti colors was cut in the far more conservative Chelish fashion as a compromise with Lady Quinta.

“You look fantastic. All the young men will be chasing after you.”

“Promise?” Korva’s somewhat expectant look made Qakisst blanch.

“Your dance card will never lack, my friend.” Qakisst to cover his discomfort swept the taller girl forward and danced her down the street.

“You can dance?” Korva looked disbelieving as the two pirouetted down the street. Other people on the street turned and watched the well-dressed couple as they moved.

“Everybody can dance.”

“No they cannot. Have you seen father try to dance?”

“I did not say that everybody can do it well.” Qakisst used the motion of the dance to open the distance between himself and Korva. “Hey look, KASHKA!” Qakisst waved to their one-time class mate and released Korva’s hand.

“Cousin Kisst!” The Varisi woman dashed forward to hug the shorter Qakisst. “Look at you!” Kashka held him at arms distance and Korva fumed from the side. “Is this…?” Kashka tugged at the end of the long scarf wrapping his haramaki.

“Yes.”

“Your Mother? I had heard the news even down in Magnimar.” Kashka’s faint smile said everything it needed too. “That is why I was so surprised to see you, Kisst. I expected you to be looking for your shoes.”

“I thought about it. I am pretty sure that if Mother were still here we would have. I just did not want to start out so late in the season.” Korva cleared her throat softly.

“Looks like that was not your only reason to stay in Sandpoint.” Kashka elbowed Qakisst. “Though your manners have wandered off without you.”

“Funny Kashka. I know you remember Korva.”

“Korva? Korva Viskalai? Wow! You got tall, girl.”

“Hi Kashka.”

“Oh don’t be so disapproving. I have not picked a pocket since I was younger that you.” Qakisst and Korva looked at each other knowingly. “Hey now! I will have you know that I am a completely disreputable merchant now.” All three laughed at the bold statement before continuing on to Festival.

The Sunwrought Festival marked the beginning of summer and the longest day of the year as well as the coming of age for young men and women. Festival events would included dancing, fireworks, and had come to be a time for betrothals for the young in many cities. On this day that children became independent from their parents and began their own journey it was not uncommon for many to make proposals or to hold ceremonies to seal their matrimony. Though there were no weddings this year many of Qakisst’s friends and former school mates celebrated with great enthusiasm. Not so Gedi Thorn. While he was dressed for the event like everybody else, he brooded.

Angry with himself and everybody else over his failure to secure an apprenticeship with the city watch, Gedi had been forced to take a training position with his older brother Ibor at the Scarnetti Sawmill. Most of his friends had congratulated him on being accepted there, but Gedi smoldered with anger. His meeting with the newly appointed Sheriff of Sandpoint had been a disaster. How could he have known that the freak was staying with the new Sheriff’s family? And how in creation did a barbaric Shoanti get a position like sheriff in the first place? These thoughts and worse seethed in Gedi Thorn’s head. Nobody appreciated what Gedi knew in his heart he could do, but he was going to show everybody tonight.

“Hey Gedi, where you been?” Pavo Korbit slapped his friend on the shoulder.

“Piss off.” Gedi grunted in reply.

Pavo looked around to see what had his friend’s attention and saw Qakisst gliding across the dance floor with a Varisi he did not know. “Let it go man. He do’na got nothing to do with your problems.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Rage soaked Gedi’s face.

“It means you got what you got. Everybody else in town knew who he was staying with after Chopper hacked his family. You just enjoy being mean to much. Let it go.” Gedi brushed off his friend’s rebuke and pushed him away.

Qakisst whirled and danced around the courtyard in the Varisian style with any and every pretty young Varisi girl he could find, and a few of the more bold Chelish girls. Korva seemed miffed except for the constant stream of young men eager to dance with the pretty young Viskalai daughter. Nobody had a care in the world, or so it seemed. Lady Quinta had actually managed to get over her shock at seeing the young man that had briefly become her ward dressed to show himself to the world when he danced with her oldest daughter. The entire town filled the open market from Water Street up Festival Street to Under Cliff Way. Even stoic Lonjiku Kaijitsu had come as expected and sat with the Merchant’s League overseeing the event.

Qakisst slid to a stop with the music and bowed to the pretty young lady he did not know. She wore the colors and clothes of a Varisi but he did not recognize her. “Thank you Cousin Kisst.” She smiled at him as they stepped back from each other and his hands instinctively checked his possessions finding nothing missing. Qakisst turned to find a new dance partner but what he found was an angry Gedi Thorn. The goblin blade Gedi had found was fragile, but sharp. He thrust the Dog Slicer forward, his actions hidden by the crowd, expecting to permanently remove the smile from Qakisst’s face but something went wrong.

Gedi’s makeshift weapon slammed into chain links wrapped around Qakisst’s abdomen, barely managing to cut skin. The young Varisi girl Qakisst had been dancing with screamed and people scattered away from the two young men. Demented rage filled Gedi’s eyes as Qakisst backed away stunned but relatively unharmed by the surprise attack. “I’ll f!$&ing kill you, you freak!” Gedi surged forward again with the blade gripped tightly as fire and light licked across Qakisst’s fingers in indignation at the events of the day. Even though the blustering bully had caught Qakisst flat footed he could not win. Qakisst moved like fire, grabbing a pewter stein right out of somebody’s hands and filled the makeshift weapon with magical power. Ale arced through the air and the glowing cup smashed into Gedi’s face just as Pavo Korbit dove at his friend screaming for him to stop. The Dog Slicer went wide of Qakisst and sank into the other boy’s gut as all three crashed to the ground.

Gedi raged incoherently and yanked most of his blade free of Pavo’s body just as the guard tackled him and pinned him to the ground. Korva screamed for somebody to find a healer even as Qakisst lifted the younger Pavo’s head up from the courtyard. Blood flowed freely from the jagged wound where Gedi had ripped the goblin blade out of him.

“I… I’m soorry.” Pavo sputtered weakly. “He… He’ss a idiot.” Coughing blood the young man turned to Korva standing next to the two as a couple of Sandpoint temple’s lay healers knelt to try and help. “I’m sorry we never got to dance.”

“Pavo, don’t!” Qakisst called to the young man slumped in his harms. “Look at me, Pavo. A cleric will be here shortly. Look at me!”

Pavo’s pain was short lived but extreme. Sister Arva from the Sandpoint temple had arrived with Caster Benjamin just in time to bring the boy back. As Qakisst had learned years before, magical healing was not without a price. As the young man cried out from the pain Qakisst stepped back to let the healers do their work.

“He had just asked me to dance.” Korva slipped her hand around Qakisst’s left arm as she spoke.

“He’s going to be okay, Korva.” Qakisst hugged the young woman beside him.

“He asked really nicely too.” Korva’s eyes followed the young man as the lay healers carefully lifted him onto a cart.

“I am so sorry you did not get to dance with him. I hope he can work up the nerve to ask twice.”

“Don’t worry about that. I will make him ask.”

Behind the two, town guardsmen drug Gedi Thorn to his feet. The young man seemed nearly rabid with anger as he struggled against the men dragging him away. Guardsman Bar Merik walked up and snapped to attention before them, “I am sorry about this. Sheriff Hemlock will need a statement from you, Sir.” Qakisst was impressed that there did not seem to be any animosity in the guardsman’s voice. The two had not been friendly when in school together and Qakisst’s only encounter since the Guardsman had been given his badge as a full guardsman had been somewhat rude. “He will likely request a statement from you as well Ma’am. It can wait till morning though, if you will both be willing to come into the guard post tomorrow.”

“Sheriff who?” Korva looked quizzically at Merik. Her uncle Belor Viskalai had been announced as the new Sheriff just before Festival.

“Er,.. I thought you would already know, Ma’am. The Sheriff made an announcement this morning that he would be taking the Taldan translation of your family name as Sheriff.” Merik looked somewhat sheepish, “Viskalai translates to Hemlock. I do not know why he decided to do so, but we have been instructed to use Hemlock as his name from now on.”

“Oh.” Displeasure colored Korva’s voice lightly as she replied.

“Your Father is not going to like that.”

The Exchange

At last, the story begins.

Burnt Offerings: The Swallowtail Dance:

The view was magnificent; a glorious city among the clouds. Qakisst looked out across the heavens all the way to the world. Fire, alive and surging, burned inside him like never before. He held a great metal spear sheathed in electrical energy. He looked impressive, almost worthy of the great heroes of old. In the Varisi tradition his body’s intricate tattoos swirled with light and liquid fire. In his burning heart he knew both of his mothers would be so proud.

He looked the once great plaza. He could see Caleb Deverin and his wolf companion loping across the debris with unearthly grace. It struck Qakisst as strange that Caleb was here. There were others there too; a tattooed woman who floated on the breeze, a massive warrior covered in metal, a shadow that flitted about as though alive, and the sun itself. He could not see their faces. It was as if he did not know them and yet had always known them. Caleb’s blacked chain armor made no sound as he came to a stop before them. Like Qakisst, Caleb was dressed in such impressive finery as to rival the kings and rulers of ancient Casmaron in their genie created finery; the great beast at his side a living testament to the wild wolves of Avistan.

As Caleb went to speak the ground erupted in shards of pain and blood, the world turned to ice, and the shadows bled light. In a burst of wind and black liquid the sun went out. Qakisst shivered in the darkness, the fire in his heart spent as ice enveloped him. Holding the spear that he knew to be his, he fought to hold back the darkness. Just as the ice enveloped his face Qakisst felt the call of the dawn drawing him back to wakefulness.

“GAHHHHHH!!!” Qakisst sat bolt upright in his bed. The first rays of the sun were not quite yet tickling the tip of the Old Light on the west side of Sandpoint, but he could hear her calling. The Dawnflower called to him each morning with the blessings of light. Qakisst had always felt the rising of the sun, even in his early childhood when his master had locked him in the metal box meant as a punishment for slaves, closed off from all light in the world, he could feel her calling a welcome to him and the hope for a better day.

By habit, Qakisst patted out the flames at the corners of his blanket. Whenever he had a bad dream he would wake up and find something on fire. In the back of his mind, he could just catch a glimpse of his dream, and of himself consumed by ice, but that was always all he remembered; except for Caleb. This time he knew he had seen Caleb Deverin in his dream. Qakisst had no idea why he would see Caleb in his dream. He rarely saw Caleb in town anymore. The young ranger preferred the wilds of Sandpoint’s hinterlands to town life.

“Oh, what does it matter?” It was a silly dream, Qakisst thought. They had been friends when Caleb was still a student at the Turandarok Academy, and he guessed that they still were. These days he rarely saw the young ranger since Caleb had become the apprentice to the Lady Andosana. That was impressive. Shalelu Andosana was Sandpoint’s most famous part time resident. The elven ranger came to town only rarely, but always to much fanfare. That she had accepted Caleb as her apprentice five years ago was surprising; that he had not only survived the experience but had become a respected ranger himself was even more so. Qakisst could only hope to someday be as respected as Caleb Deverin.

As he stretched and cleaned up his little space in Savah’s Armory, Qakisst smiled. Though Savah had offered to allow him room at her house when she took him on as an apprentice, Qakisst had refused. He had always felt more comfortable with the heat of the forge nearby. She had allowed him this small space in the back of her workshop that was his own. The thin dividing wall was the only thing separating it from the rest of the shop but he had never cared.

Master Smith Savah Bevaniky was not the famous Shalelu, but she was quite respected herself. When he opened his heart to the truth, Qakisst felt incredibly lucky to have spent the last five years as her apprentice. Her previous human apprentices had always been so eager to rush off into the world. Qakisst had for a long time worried that Savah would grow tired of him, but she had not. She had perhaps grown as fond of him as the Lady Quinta, the mother to his closest friends. Qakisst had been blessed with a plethora of wonderful mothers in his life; but far too few true father figures. Oh, Master Garridan and his brother Belor were great men, but Garridan looked upon him as a spirit made flesh and Belor was too busy being sheriff. Maybe Savah counted there. After all, they kind of had similar tastes in women; well not similar, but they both liked women a lot, and Savah had taught him a great many things about standing up for himself as well as running a forge. He laughed to himself wondering how Savah would feel about being his father figure.

Qakisst conjured the little cantrips that he had first learned from his heart-Mother Liandra nearly 15 years ago and stripped himself of the stench of last night’s revelry. He then set the cantrips to mending the singed parts of his blanket. He had spent too much time of late playing Harrows at the Fat Man’s Feedbag and his pockets showed it. Jubrayl was always pretty good at not completely cleaning his pockets out, and had even warned him on more than one occasion that not everybody is going to go soft on him. Qakisst as always did not listen until Jubrayl made him quit early enough that Qakisst still had lunch money throughout the week. This week the tall skinny Varisi had told him, “Look, cousin Kisst, you know that I am happy to take anybody’s coin at Harrows. You know this about me. But not you, cousin. You run a good bluff, but you can’t seem to read an open book. Play a few coppers, maybe a silver or two when you come in, but you keep your coin and do something. Save up, go find your shoes. Then come back and tell me about it all.” Qakisst had been a little angry at Jubrayl for banishing him from the game once more, because he so loved playing cards with his extended Varisi family, but he knew Jubrayl was right. He also knew Savah was going to chew him out for being nearly broke again.

Oh well, today would be a very busy day. After sunrise mass and breakfast at the White Deer Qakisst still had work he wanted to do. And there was the Swallowtail Festival today that everybody would be attending; right along with the dedication of the new Cathedral. Once he found his shoes he would get started.

Getting through the morning felt like it had been an eternity. With everything Qakisst had to do today he had nearly forgotten that as of this month he had lived in Sandpoint for 10 whole years now. Lady Quinta had made a bit of a fuss out of the simple anniversary at Sunday brunch before letting him go so that she could prepare for today’s festival. Her fuss reminded him that the colloquial habits of this small town life might sometimes drive him nuts. But by the time he returned to Savah’s Armory to work on his spear his mood had improved. The hammer in his hand felt so natural to Qakisst. He was born to the forge and this one sang to him. In these moments he felt like he truly belonged.

Then there are his friends that he knew he would miss dearly when he finally decided to leave this place. That he had friends was almost impossible for him to believe. Oh, he had always managed a friend or two since being adopted by Liandra; but they had always been Varisi before he came to Sandpoint. Now they were from every walk of life and in almost every shade of humanoid color. As much as he loved them though, the road was beginning to whisper a call to him; and he knew not to fight it too long. By spring he was sure that his shoes would be missing from under his bed.

Shirtless, he finished working the still hot boar spear to restore it to a useful weapon. The original haft had long since rotted away, and even the replacement had burned in the Sandpoint fire five years ago, but the spear head itself was still functional; if in need of straightening and sharpening once more. Something about the forge just drew him in, even as the eternally young Qakisst was beginning to grow restless with the passage of time. He could swear one of his shoes had been trying to slip out the door of the armory last night. But with summer coming to an end he knew that starting a journey in the fall would have problems.

Perhaps one of the short run caravans needs a weapon seller? Savah could do without him for a couple of weeks, and he could sell some of her excess merchandise to outlying communities near Magnimar. As he quenched the hot weapon, Qakisst thought about trying to take the last run up to Riddleport for the season as he had never been there, but even that was unlikely. His extended Varisi family still looked upon the youthful ifrit as a child even as he approached his 60th season at the end of the coming winter. Few of the Varisi trade caravans were willing to offer him a position out of concern that he was too young yet to manage his own wagon. None of them would likely give him a place on a trip to pirate infested Riddleport. He knew that his heart-Mother had warned them all not to encourage Qakisst to go chasing after somebody else’s shoes; and his heart-Mother had been greatly respected by her fellow Varisi. This fascination the Varisi had with shoes made him chuckle.

As he worked to wire the spearhead into place atop the new haft he had sanded yesterday, Qakisst heard footsteps outside the warehouse doors. “Boy! There are no gloves on those hands!” The rich feminine voice brought a smirk to his face. “And the festival is starting soon but here you are in the work shop playing with that gods be damned spearhead again!” His employer, master weapon smith Savah Bevaniky, stood in the large warehouse door to her workshop glaring at her eldest apprentice. Qakisst was not only her oldest apprentice by age, being nearly 60 years a child, but had been her apprentice for just over five years now. He knew that he was fast approaching the point that she would enter him for guild standing as a trained weapon smith; with the guild’s approval. Unknown to Qakisst, or so she thought, Savah had already sent samples of his work to the guildhall in Magnimar to see if his work stood the test of an unbiased appraisal. It would be another week or more before she heard back, but Savah was certain that this apprentice would not disappoint as so many before him had. Where too many others demanded that their less than adequate work be submitted for approval Qakisst had so far refused any suggestion that his work might be good enough for consideration at all. Qakisst, in her mind, was too patient in this one thing. A trait that did not extend into much else in his life.

“This is not just a spear head.” Qakisst did not turn to face his teacher as he held up the newly mounted boar spear when Savah had called him out. “And this one is important to me. I killed a giant with this spear head.”

“Sure you did, boy. Put it up and dress yourself proper for the festival so I can lock the main doors. Nobody wants to see a half-naked grinning devilish boy wandering around the festival with a spear bigger than he is.” Savah’s devil reference drew a distasteful look over his shoulder from Qakisst. “Have off, boy. You know full well I am not being insulting or making reference to felborn. You have never explained why you react so poorly to people insulting the fel. What is it that burns you so with even casual references to them?”

“Even the casual references are meant to be degrading. Or are you saying that being a grinning devil boy is a good thing?” Qakisst moved around the dividing wall Savah had set up around his bunk space years ago and dropping the spear onto his cot; then shucked out of his work togs quickly. Savah noticed how immodest the young man had grown working and living in the open area of her work shop as he pulled on clean breaches without thought to the idea that he had just shown his entire backside to anybody that might be standing at the warehouse entrance.

Savah grimaced at the decades old scars that crisscrossed Qakisst’s back. She had long ago pried their origin from him and was the one person who could comment on them without drawing the boy’s anger. “Even with those scars, that is a nice view boy, but are you not a bit young to be showing it off to the world?” Savah chided her apprentice for his immodesty with a smirk on her face.

“So you think I am too young do you?” Qakisst strapped on his haramaki over the top of his breaches. The armored chain belt had saved his life more than once. The belt was wrapped in red and gold silk patterned with his heart-Mother’s family history. “Then the rumor is not true?”

“What rumor, boy?” Savah glowered at her apprentice.

“You are not that clever, m’Lady Savah.” Qakisst grinned impishly at the woman who had been his employer the last five years. He knew how much she hated the possessive term, my lady.

“I warned you that I would toss you onto the street one day if you ever used that term!” Savah’s indignation could not hide her grin.

“You think I am old enough that you can finally do just that someday soon enough; if the rumors are true.”

“I have not been looking for a new apprentice, if that is what you have been fretting about. Too few children in this town know which end of a hammer to hold.”

“I am not fretting, and you know that is not what I am talking about. At least not directly.” Qakisst slipped his feet into simple sandals and pulled on his vest without a shirt. “I know you sent that bastard sword you told me Sheriff Hemlock had requested to the guild in Magnimar. The sheriff has not been wearing it and I finished it two weeks ago. He still favors those axes he is always lugging around.” He pointed a finger directly at her, “Everybody knows that Belor Hemlock likes the axe over the sword.”

“You caught me. But as I am your master and you are my apprentice. I get to decide when to have the guild masters evaluate your work.”

“Fair enough, but I do not feel ready yet.”

“I can hand you any job and you do it near as fast as I do. I can walk away and take a day or two leaving you to run the forge without even a thought. You are ready to strut your stuff, apprentice of mine.”

“Strutting my stuff would be why I am dressed this way. There is another rumor about town that there is a party waiting on me to start.” No shirt under his leather vest, the bright red and gold cloth wrapped haramaki, and colorful Varisi pants made for a stunning image on the ruddy dark bronze skinned young man as he posed before strutting across the work floor. The two Sandpoint residents stepped outside Savah’s Armory and pulled the warehouse doors closed to be locked.

“Rather immodest of you, and once again you will scare 20 years off of all the fathers of Sandpoint. If you were not so damned young I would steal you up myself.” Savah glowered at the eternally young ifrit in his ‘traditional’ Qadiran outfit.

“I know full well that I am not really your type.” Qakisst stuck his tongue out at his boss. “Besides, I am twice your age.” As they verbally sparred; master and apprentice strolled up the hill toward the grounds around the Cathedral being dedicated during today’s Swallowtail festival.

“In years, yes, I will even grant that in bad experiences you are older still. But in maturity you are still a devilish imp of a boy with the looks of a child half my age; at best.” Savah ruffled the coarse, wiry, black curled Mwangi hair that tightly hugged the ageless Qakisst’s head without grabbing the bull like horns that extended from his brow. “Now off with you. You have your own key to the shop, but no firing up the forge tonight after the celebration. You are taking a day off from work, understand? And stay away from the Feedbag, damn it. Every time you go in there you wind up broke again playing Harrows.”

“Too late.”

“Qakisst Vishtani! I pay you more than any apprentice deserves. Quit pissing it away on card games with your Sczarni con-artist friends!”

Qakisst turned toward Savah and backed away towards the temple grounds, “Protecting Sandpoint’s citizenry from my less than scrupulous friends is one of my many services to the city.”

Qakisst turned with a smile on his face and strode into the wide street in front of the new Cathedral. Even as he did an arm slipped into his arm and pulled him tight. “You have been hiding in that damnable armory again.”

“Hi, Tanjah. Have I missed much?” Qakisst smiled up at the tall 13 year old sister of his best friend Korva.

“The town is throwing a giant party half a block from my parents’ inn. Of course you’ve missed much.”

“Your dad and the Sheriff still screaming at each other?” Qakisst’s reference to this morning’s chapter in the ongoing feud between Garridan Viskalai and his brother Belor over the latter changing his name to the Chelish translation of Hemlock brought a smile to both their faces.

“Not today. Uncle Belor has been too busy to get an ear full from Daddy about not living up to our Shoanti heritage. But he did assign Vach to ride patrol today outside the walls; which has set Mother off as expected.”

“So the sheriff is actually hiding from your mother today.”

“Pretty much.” The two youths stepped into the square to merge with the movements of a traditional Chelish style dance that was currently underway in the courtyard. Tanjah marveled at how well Qakisst guided them through the intricate group dance common to the Chelish descendants that had settled Varisia. “Do you always have to make the rest of us look so clumsy when dancing?”

“You do not look clumsy dancing, Tanjah.” Qakisst’s smile split his face from ear to ear.

“Everybody looks clumsy when dancing with you, Kisst.”

The pair danced for a time before a well dressed woman with short brown hair called for the music to stop as she stood on the raised platform in Temple Square.

"Welcome, everyone!” The attractive and personable woman greeted the crowd with her usual friendly attitude.

“As many of you know, my name is Kendra Deverin and I am proud to serve as mayor of this fine town. It's wonderful to see so many of you here to join us on this proud day. I'd like to extend my welcome to the many new faces I see in the crowd. I hope you are enjoying your stay here in Sandpoint. If this is your first visit, I sincerely hope you're having a wonderful time. Our town has much to offer and I hope we can consider you as new friends. Spend some time in Sandpoint and you’ll grow to love it like we do. And even if you don’t stay long, spend your money while you’re here!”

Several of the merchants gave vigorous applause, and the Mayor let the crowd settle before she continued over the remaining chuckles. “To all of the familiar faces I see today, thank you for coming and for everything that each of you has done to keep this town strong in recent years. I see that even Larz Rovanky has torn himself away from work to join us today! It is truly a miracle from Desna herself!” There was quite a bit of laughter and many eyes were turned to a serious looking man dressed in all leather and wearing a sour expression on his face. When the chuckles died down and Larz stopped glowering past a reluctant smile, Mayor Deverin continued.

“Thank you to the people of Sandpoint, especially for all the time, sweat, and love you’ve put into building this fine Cathedral. Sandpoint didn’t seem complete without a church. We’ve always had heart: you, the people. But now we have an expression of that heart, and we built it ourselves!”

The crowd responded with a roar, and it was a while before the mayor could continue over the applause. “Thank you, thank you all. And without further ado, let me introduce the next speaker; our own Sheriff Belor Hemlock!” She indicated a dark-skinned, bulky man, clearly of Shoanti descent, wearing armor, with an axe belted at his side. The dour-looking man walked to the center of the stage and shook the mayor's hand before he began to speak. "Thank you, Madam Mayor."

His eyes scanned the crowd. After a moment, he dropped to one knee and pulled a holy symbol from beneath his tunic. Then he addressed the gathering, "A moment of silence." He bowed his head and began speaking, "Let us remember." He took a calming breath and continued, "Let us remember the memories of those friends and family members who lost their lives in the tragic blaze that made our new cathedral necessary. Cherish their memories and may the blessings of the Gods see them happy and well in the Afterlife."

After lengthy pause, he stood back up and cleared his throat, "Now, I would like everyone to be aware that additional guardsmen have been added to each patrol throughout the festival. Members of the Sandpoint Militia have also agreed to add their support to our guardsmen. As sheriff, I am confident that between the guards and the militia volunteers, we will be able to handle any disturbances that may occur. All instances of wrong-doing will be dealt with swiftly and to the fullest extent of the law. No exceptions. As the sheriff of Sandpoint, I, Belor Hemlock, would also like to welcome everyone to enjoy themselves during our Swallowtail Festival."

His eyes gauged the crowd's reaction to his words. "Remember: Keep the peace. Thank you." With that, the sheriff stepped back, beckoning for the mayor to step forward again.

The mayor stood and called out, “Lonjiku Kaijitsu, owner of our beloved glassworks will now speak.” After a moment, a man ran up to the mayor and spoke to her quietly. “It seems our good friend Lonjiku has come down with an illness. So let me introduce our next speaker; give your attention to Cyrdak Drokkus, proprietor of the Sandpoint Theater."

Drokkus was quite a contrast to the sheriff; he was brightly dressed, sporting a well-groomed goatee, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the day. As he reached the center stage he loosened his collar a bit and winked at the crowd.

"Well, thank you Sheriff for that uplifting oratory. I know this town has been through some hard times, but look at what we've accomplished.” He made a sweeping motion with arm towards the Cathedral. “And I'm telling you, they spared no expense with this place. Father Zantus' chamber pot? Solid gold, I kid you not! Our generous nobles put a pretty copper into the construction of this joint. I think the churches even chipped in a silver or two! I even heard a rumor that all of the gods got together and scrounged up four gold pieces to help get this thing built! But don't take it from me, the Padre over here is the one with the direct line, he's the one you want to hear from! But before I let him get things going I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my personal invitation to each and every one of you to the new production of "The Harpy's Curse" starring the world-famous Magnimarian diva Allishanda as Avisera, the harpy queen! It's all premiering tomorrow evening at the Sandpoint Theatre and it is going to be fab-u-lous! And now join me in a bit of applause for his holiness himself, Father Abstalar Zantus!"

The crowd cheered as Cyrdak motioned Zantus to the center stage. A wiry man with black hair and piercing eyes looked noticeably embarrassed at the reception set up for him. He wore the traditional ceremonial robes of a priest of Desna and a shiny silver holy symbol about his neck. He smiled and tried to calm the crowd, speaking only when the applause had subsided. "Ahem, thank you. Thank you, Cyrdak. And thank all of you for coming to join us on this most holy day. Today is a day of new beginnings, so without boring you with long speeches, I declare the Swallowtail Festival officially underway!"

As the cheering subsided and the crowd began to break up, Qakisst led Tanjah over to the food carts that surrounded the open street festival. The festivities filled Temple Square and the surrounding streets. Qakisst stepped up to the concession cart for the Rusty Dragon Inn and grabbed two bowls of something exotic looking and handed one to Tanjah. “Give it a try. Everything at the Dragon is fantastic.”

“Everything?” Tanjah’s eyebrow rose with her knowing smirk. She and her siblings had long known that Qakisst had an infatuation with the Dragon’s owner.

Oblivioust to her teasing, Qakisst rattled on, “Yeah. It is not your father’s peppercorn venison, but it is still incredible. And everything is so different from the Chelish style food found in most of Sandpoint. The Dragon has the only cook in Sandpoint as good as your dad.”

Tanjah smiled even as she looked dubiously at the strange dish of rice and vegetables before taking a bite.

“Hey, this is pretty… HOT! Hot. Hot, hot, hot!” The young Shoanti girl waved her hand in front of her mouth as her face flushed from the unexpected spice. A cup appeared in front of her face which she grabbed and drank quickly.

“Goat’s milk. Helps calm the spice.” The tall slender Tian woman with the dragon tattoo smiled at Tanjah. “I did not know that you were such a fan of the food from my Inn, Qakisst Vishtani. I normally make it my business to know who crosses my threshold; especially the friends of my rivals.” Lady Ameiko Kaijitsu gave a playful smirk as she took the already empty cup from Tanjah.

Qakisst’s eyes shot open wide like a startled cat when the Rusty Dragon’s proprietor stepped in front of him and Tanjah. “Uh,.. ye.. yeah. Sanırım daha sık göze isterdim. Sorry… I… I… Um… well… I… wish I…Um… I coul…coul… could afford it mo... moo... more often.”

Blood flushed into Qakisst’s face turning his normally dark bronze skin maroon in color. Ameiko smiled as she recognized the flush that overcame Qakisst, but not the language he had slipped into. She had seen more than one young man with an unhealthy over-reaction to her presence though; at least this one was always proper enough not to blurt out unwanted marriage proposals.

“Maybe I will have to lower prices a little. I would hate to deprive anybody of something I have which they enjoy so much.” Ameiko brushed her black hair back out of her eyes and then continued about the crowd to greet other festival attendees. Her departure eased the stress Qakisst felt only a little.

“You handled that well.” Tanjah dryly scolded Qakisst while fanning her tongue with her open palm. “That was not Taldan, though.”

“I am going to go hide under a rock before I embarrass myself anymore.” A rare bead of sweat ran down Qakisst’s brow.

“She got your name right. That is way better than most of the noble born around here.” Tanjah gripped Qakisst’s arm loosely to prevent his escape, “Sorry, Kisst. We all know how you feel about Lady Ameiko.”

“Really.” Qakisst’s replied equally as dryly as Tanjah’s earlier comment. He had grown tired of hearing about this from Korva. To have her little sister berating him was unbearable.

“Yes. You are not exactly subtle; you know. Why don’t you talk to her? No, scratch that. You would only trip on your tongue. Why not ask her to dance? You are a really good dancer.”

“I am not sure I can handle my feet becoming as fumbled as my tongue. Are you sure everybody knows?”

“Everybody that knows you knows; nobody else cares or matters. And I am sorry to say that if she did not know before, Lady Ameiko knows for sure now too. Since a dozen young men throw themselves at her every week she probably finds a tongue tied young man’s reaction refreshing. Yours is probably the only honest response she has gotten in years.” The young girl smiled broadly.

Qakisst’s head drooped with a moan, “I am going to go bury myself under the Old Light till everybody forgets me.” Qakisst turned to trudge off but Tanjah held her grip on his arm.

“You are unforgettable, you know.”

“That is the point.” The pair laughed at Qakisst’s self-deprecation.

“Go dance with the other girls, you big goof. If the much exalted Lady Kaijitsu is not smart enough to realize she just missed her chance to dance with the hottest young man in Sandpoint that is her problem. Just watch out for Shayliss. She’s shopping for a husband.”

Qakisst snorted at the thought of him with the overeager Shayliss Vinder, but moved off to enjoy the festivities as Tanjah went to help her mother run the White Deer Inn’s concession cart. She was still waving her hand in front of her tongue as she moved out of sight.
As the day progressed, Qakisst’s mood lightened and he made the rounds, not spending too much time with any one young lady. Both Korva and Tanjah had repeatedly told him that nobody cares who he dances with in public or in private, but Qakisst knew the look he got from the fathers of Sandpoint's eligible young ladies. The look filled with a touch of fear and trepidation with a general sense of disapproval. Qakisst was not so egotistical as to believe that he was the only young man looked at with disapproval by someone’s father, but the fear he saw was something only a bastard child of unworthy origins received. Many Chelish young ladies would never dance with him for fear of family disapproval. As the afternoon of dancing drew to a close, Qakisst spotted yet another pair of father’s eyes watching him as he bowed politely to his latest partner of the afternoon.

Much of Sandpoint was gathered in Temple Square at the moment. Nearly five hundred people crammed into the square, or on the intersecting streets, for the dedication of the multi-denominational Sandpoint Cathedral. It had been just over five years since the previous temple burned down in an unexpected fire that destroyed nearly one-third of the town. Two of Sandpoint’s most beloved citizens died in that fire: Father Ezakien Tobyn and his adopted aasimar daughter Nualia. Qakisst had only known Father Tobyn, a priest of Desna, from a handful of meetings over the five years before his death. The Father had always been polite, but had not seemed to approve much of him. He had known Nualia only slightly better from Turandarok. As Sandpoint's two most notable plane-touched residents it seemed inevitable that Qakisst and the heavenly Nualia would know each other; and yet circumstances had always kept them apart. As Father Zantus stepped up to the platform Qakisst’s thoughts drifted to his last encounter with the young celestial-born woman and her father.

It had been nearly four months since the death of Liandra, Qakisst’s adopted mother. He had not been coming to sunrise service since she had been killed; unwilling to face the crowd or endure their sympathies. Many were heartfelt, but many were only polite as a matter of proper decorum and he could not stand the less-than-sincere sympathies. Lady Quinta, who had been his heart-Mother’s employer, as well as the mother to his closest friends, had insisted that he must not turn his back on the gods’ good graces. For this reason, he had risen early even by his own standards and made himself return to sunrise service just before dawn on the Sunday morning of the Sunwrought Festival. The effort had greatly pleased his heart-Brother, Caster Benjamin; who had come to spend the summer with him in the wake of their adopted mother’s passing. Temple seemed a somber place that summer morning. As Qakisst entered the open courtyard of the sun, Nualia stepped out from behind a pillar and stopped him dead in his tracks.

She was poorly dressed in dirty bedclothes that were tattered. Her normally beautiful silver hair was a tangled mess of knots and frayed ends; her eyes a haunted bloodshot red, “Good morning, Qakisst.” She was cheery and smiled at him as she leaned in close to him, “Mother would like to help you too.” Her whispered voice sent a chill up his spine, “She is sorry for your loss and very worried for you.” Qakisst leaned back from Nualia and stared at her as she smiled.

“Th...thank you, Nualia.” As he said it, her eyes snapped shut and she collapsed. Only his elemental-born swiftness allowed him to catch her just as he heard shouting from the main temple complex. A hand full of younger acolytes came rushing out to them yelling Nualia’s name. “What is going on? Is she okay?” The eldest of the acolytes began berating him for disturbing Nualia and Qakisst found that he had to defend himself just for being present. “What did I do? I did not do anything!” he cried.

“Enough, all of you! Take Nualia back to her room!” Father Tobyn’s booming voice cut off the fledgling argument before it could escalate. Before Qakisst could back away the Father’s hand came down upon his shoulder. His look was stern, but not cruel, “I have not seen you in Temple in several months, Mr. Vishtani. Not since your mother’s service.”

“I am sorry, Father. I have not been good company and did not wish to inflict my poor mood on others.” Qakisst fidgeted slightly, but held his place next to Father Tobyn. “But since I am to start a new job, I felt obligated to come back and share what I can.”

Father Tobyn looked somewhat surprised at Qakisst’s reply, but he apparently had more important things on his mind. “I am glad to hear it and hope you will continue to do so. Now, I must see to my daughter.”

That would be the last time Qakisst ever saw Father Tobyn. That night the Sandpoint Fire swept through the Temple complex, the old Black Deer Inn, and a dozen other homes and businesses on the north end of the small town. The Varisi wagon Qakisst had inherited from his heart-Mother had burned with most of his meager possessions right behind the inn. Qakisst had several witnesses as to his location, the sole reason which prevented everyone from blaming him.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: The Swallowtail Goblins:

The loud explosion of a thunderstone in Temple Square startled Qakisst out of his wool gathering and he jerked his head around. Father Zantus had thrown the thunderstone to get everyone’s attention as he began to speak. At the same time, the coarse guttural singing started:

“Goblins chew and goblins bite.
Goblins cut and goblins fight.
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!

Goblins race and goblins jump.
Goblins slash and goblins bump.
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!

Chase the baby, catch the pup.
Bonk the head to shut it up.
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We be goblins! You be food!”

Chaos flooded the temple square as goblins began erupting from seemingly every nook and cranny. The foul tempered and foul appearing creatures were known to live beyond the hinterlands around Sandpoint and commonly raided the junk yard off the north cliff face of the town, but their diminutive size normally kept them from bothering the human dominated settlement. A dog yelped in pain as a goblin slashed it with his wicked little sword, aptly called a dog-slicer. Children screamed in terror running in every direction as parents panicked and began a desperate search for those same children. Fear, rage, and adrenalin boiled up in Qakisst in a near panic.

Before panic could take him, a faint whisper floated through Qakisst’s mind, “Burn anything that threatens you, my son. Let loose the fire in your heart.” The memory of his birth mother’s voice, like fire itself, spurred him to action and Qakisst found himself moving almost without thought. Fire erupted from his fingers and engulfed a goblin that had turned towards him. The deformed humanoid howled in pain before collapsing, ragged clothing still burning. The people around him began to move away, almost as scared of his fiery response as the attacking goblins.

Out of the corner of his eye Qakisst could see Sheriff Hemlock trying to get the VIPs to safety inside the Cathedral when another explosion sounded. While not nearly as loud as the first, this one engulfed a cluster of goblins in a strange alchemical fire that sent several goblins scattering for cover while the one at the heart of the explosion collapsed. Qakisst rushed to the food carts now frantically looking for Tanjah and her mother, Lady Quinta Viskalai. One of the vicious little goblins jumped down in front of him with his jagged dog-slicer drawn. Before Qakisst could call up the fire in his soul again a smooth long blade sliced down across the creature’s skull splitting it open.

Qakisst expected to see the livery of one of Sandpoint’s guardsmen but instead found a tall powerfully built black haired mercenary swinging the long sword. “Look out, lad. These little bastards are more dangerous than they look.”

Fire leapt from Qakisst’s fingers past the big Shoanti-blooded man dropping a goblin rushing up behind the man. “I have lived in Sandpoint long enough to know how to deal with goblins, sir.”

“Ha! Many thanks, friend.” The big Shoanti grinned then rushed after another goblin as Qakisst continued looking for his friends and their families.

As he scanned the crowd Qakisst spotted the source of the smaller explosion. A young tattooed woman in the colorful clothes of the Varisi shook a small glass vial and flung it at a cluster of goblins that were trying to corner her near the Cathedral steps. The vial shattered and flames erupted around the goblin it struck, setting the ragged clothes of the surrounding goblins alight. Qakisst had heard stories of an alchemist named Tessa who travelled with the caravans, but had not met her. The wind swirled around Tessa clearing smoke and whipping her hair about her shoulders as she tried to fend off the remaining goblins with a crossbow. Qakisst sent yet another firebolt into the toughest looking of the goblin cluster sending the manic creature running through the chaos in flames and scattering the others.

“M’Lady Tessa.” Qakisst nodded to the delicate tattooed woman as he rushed past her charging what looked to be the leader of this band of goblins. Covered in colorful studded leather armor and singing maniacally the crazed goblin pulled out a whip and began to lash out at a handful of people near an overturned wagon on one side of Temple Square.

“You must be Cousin Kisst. Good to finally meet you.” Tessa turned and fired her crossbow at the ornately, if comically, dressed goblin that continued to chant and sing as it lashed out with a whip at any human that got too close. Tessa swore as her bolt buried itself in the creature’s armor, but seemed to cause it no hard. The foul goblin then began to chant arcane words in a sing-song manner when a slender scimitar slashed across its chest.

Qakisst recognized the rustic form of his friend Caleb Deverin. He had a serious dislike of goblins after having barely survived an encounter with them nearly six years ago; and his eyes almost glittered with rage. Caleb kicked the now dead goblin war-chanter to the ground and slashed out at another goblin with his scimitar. Qakisst felt a slight surge of pride as few in Sandpoint had bothered to learn how to craft the curved Qadiran style blades until Qakisst had begun making them for practice in Savah’s Armory. While traditionally the weapon of Sarenrae’s priests, the fast striking blades had become surprisingly popular in the area, though still not as popular as the traditional heavy long blades and flexible rapiers worn by most Chelish descended people.

Town watchmen were finally flooding into Temple Square scattering the surviving goblins. Sheriff Hemlock was shouting orders from the steps of the Cathedral when he spotted Caleb and the cluster of young people surrounding the fallen goblin war-chanter. “Caleb! All of you come over here.” Waiving to the young group, “You too Konnor. Don’t think that I cannot see you lurking behind that wagon looting bodies. Get over here.” The elven blooded thief with the porcelain mask jumped and looked around him when he was called out. He had a more robust build than most elves, but his ears were a giveaway of his heritage. Qakisst shook his head upon seeing the enigmatic recluse. Whatever it was Konnor was hiding behind that mask, everybody in Sandpoint wanted to know.

The eclectic group of youth ambled over to the temple steps unsure of what to do next. Qakisst noticed a young priestess joining the group whose livery identified her as a follower of Sarenrae. That he did not know the beautiful young woman startled him. Qakisst attended sunrise service for Sarenrae every week yet he had never seen the young woman before. “The city is still swarming with goblins and I am stretched to the limit on manpower. Since you six are armed and have driven off a few already, you get to go up to the main gate and help keep any more goblins out.”

“Uh, I have no weapon.” Qakisst felt tiny standing between the big Shoanti he had helped earlier and the sheriff. Even the ephemeral Tessa was as tall as the child-like Qakisst. Sheriff Hemlock looked down at him and raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Really?’.

“Apparently you are going to need this.” Korva, eldest of the Viskalai children, shoved the haft of the boar spear Qakisst had been working on that very morning into his hand and whispered into his ear. “My parents are fine, and I know where you keep your key.” Qakisst turned a deep maroon under the sheriff’s disapproving glare when Korva appeared with his spear in one hand and a short sword in the other. Korva was the sheriff’s niece, and seeing her there armed and ready brought a scowl to his face.

“Korva, get over here!” Sheriff Hemlock snarled at the young woman. “The rest of you get up to the gate and find Captain Merik. He will direct you on where to go and what to do.” The sheriff pulled Korva aside and shooed the rest of the group off. “I am already in trouble enough with your mother. Where in the Nine Hells did you get that sword?”

Korva tried to argue with her uncle, but Qakisst knew it would do her no good. Fortunately for Korva she was of age and the worst her uncle or parents could do was yell at her. Before any of them could start yelling at him, he chased off after the armed mob hoping not to draw renewed attention.

Qakisst rushed forward with the other five attendees Sheriff Hemlock had drafted. The big sell-sword grumbled as they ran, “So much for a quiet festival. I wonder if I can get paid for this.”

“We get paid?” Tessa squealed as she zipped past the rest of the ensemble. The strange Varisi tattoo artist and vagabond seemed impossibly fast as she rushed past the others as if carried by the wind.

The group trailed behind Tessa running past the White Deer Inn towards the gate when they heard a yell for help and a dog’s strangled cry, “Anybody, help, please! I’m not ready to die!”

Tessa glided to a halt on the main street beside the White Deer Inn and flipped out one of her glass vials. It exploded among a cluster of goblins riding strange hairless beasts that looked like a perverse cross between a rat and a deformed dog. The beasts leapt to the sides singed and turned away from the cornered man who was hiding behind a barrel while surrounded by both dead and living goblins. Two of the strange creatures without riders ripped the wounded dog to pieces.

“Hells, they were supposed to fall down.” As the rest of the young draftees slid to a stop beside her, Tessa palmed another bottle of strange liquids from her pack and shook it carefully.

Almost at once chaos erupted again. Four twisted goblin riding beasts and their riders charged forward followed by a cluster of goblin infantry and attack beasts. Qakisst unleashed the fire in his heart against the riding beasts while Caleb and the big Shoanti rushed forward weapons drawn. Beside Qakisst the priestess pulled out a scimitar. “I don’t know what to do.” The young acolyte looked horrified about being in a real fight and Qakisst knew exactly what that felt like.

BOOM!!! One of Tessa’s strange alchemical bombs disrupted the goblin charge.

Pointing at Caleb on his left Qakisst rushed to his right. “Watch his back. Hit any of them that get past him.”

At some point in the chaotic surge Konnor had tumbled past a group of the beasts and stabbed at its flanks dropping the creature. “I am invincible!” Qakisst shook his head hearing the boastful battle cry. He pulled arcane energy into his hand while fending off a pair of goblins with his spear. He did not feel nearly so confident.

The big Shoanti mercenary seemed to be handling himself well and Caleb was snarling as he slashed through the enemy. Tessa had gotten herself in over her head as two of the goblin riders moved to pin her against the far side of the street, so Qakisst chose to zap one of the riding beasts with the shocking spell he had summoned. The beast yelped, jumped, and turned on Qakisst as he readied his spear. The brief reprieve gave Tessa an opening to step back and throw another of her destructive vials as the big Shoanti unseated another of the goblin riders.

Despite their best efforts, the small group was being slowly overwhelmed by numbers. Cuts and slow bleeding wounds were taking their toll on the six would-be heroes when the young cleric stepped away from the fight just long enough to pull forth her gold painted cross marked with the winged form of the Dawnflower and held it high. “Blessed Dawnflower, grant us your strength!” While young, the woman held in her the divine spark of the shining sun goddess. A great surge of healing energy swept over her companions, effectively turning the tide. Sword, spear, scimitar, and dagger cut the retched goblin force to pieces as fire and light tore at their bodies.

Smoke drifted away from Tessa as the dust finally began to settle. Against the wall of the White Deer Inn, and quite terrified, stood the Magnimarian noble, Lord Aldern Foxglove. “Oh my sweet blessed gods! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Lord Foxglove stood slowly, finely wrought basket hilted rapier still in hand over a pair of dead goblins. “You must let me repay you all!” Foxglove paused only long enough to catch his breath before offering his reward, “I am staying at the Rusty Dragon tonight. When this mess is over you will all come see me, I never forget a face.” The tall slender noble stepped forward and took the hand of the young Dawnflower acolyte and kissed the back of her hand, “Especially such a beautiful face.” Lord Foxglove’s smile, while somewhat snobbish was charming and polite.

“Really?” Qakisst looked past Lord Foxglove at the beautifully appointed White Dear Inn behind the Magnimarian noble and thought of the more rustic Dragon’s reputation as a rough and tumble gathering place for adventurers and mercenaries. Already Caleb and the big Shoanti were following Tessa towards the main gate.

“Oh you are observant my young… man. Yes, the White Dear is a marvelous place, but I do love good music and adventurous stories. I bet you have more than a few good stories.” Lord Foxglove winked at the priestess, “I bet you would love to hear a few stories too, my Lady. Now, I have to go see the mayor about these disgraceful events. I shall be sure to let her know of your efforts. Your friends will be needing your help, I’m sure.” As he turned to head off he looked back to the three remaining youth with a smile, “The Rusty Dragon for diner. All six of you. And remember, I never forget a face.”

The two stunned youth, and Konnor in his porcelain mask, looked at each other. “I feel slightly violated.” Qakisst nearly choked at the remark from the young acolyte.

He replied almost by reflex. “Me too.”

“I wonder what he will offer us as a reward.” Konnor turned his mask toward the gate and rushed to catch the others. Qakisst’s opinion of the strange elf-blooded young man that had been haunting Sandpoint sank another notch. Something was not right with that guy.

Qakisst turned toward his remaining companion to find her looking at him. The young acolyte smiled briefly. “He is an eager fellow, that masked one.”

A slight laugh caught in Qakisst’s throat. “Konnor cannot help himself. He has a reputation for excitement, or something.” As Qakisst turned toward the acolyte he nodded. “Qakisst Vishtani, m’Lady. Welcome to Sandpoint.” As he had been taught years before by his heart-Mother, Qakisst took the young acolyte’s hand and raised it as he gave a slight bow, stopping six inches from his chin. “We should hurry and catch the others.”

“Acolyte Laranys, Cleric of Sarenrae. Very pleased to meet you. You are ifrit, correct?” Laranys smiled at Qakisst as the two of them turned towards the gate and moved to catch the others.

“Yes, m’Lady.” Qakisst glanced warily at Laranys as the two rushed to the gates.

“I did not know that there were any ifriti this far from Qadira and Osirion.” Laranys gave a reassuring smile as best she could while running.

“Just me as far as I know, m'Lady.”

The run from the White Deer Inn to the main gate was short enough. When they arrived they could see a handful of guards firing bows from the parapet & towers that separated the narrow Sandpoint isthmus from the rest of Varisia. Most of the town had been built on the narrow isthmus under the ruins of the Thassilonian lighthouse looking out over the Varisian Gulf. The location was ideal defensively as most of the city could be isolated from bandits, raiders, and goblins by simply closing the gate. The majority of the city existed on high cliff walls that made attack difficult.

“You’re dawdling today, Q.” Guard Captain Barthalus Merik pointed up one of the ladders on the back side of the parapet. “That big pig sticker of yours will be useful up there keeping the little bastards from climbing the walls. You can probably burn one or two of their crude ladders down too.” Qakisst moved off as directed. Years ago he and a newly commissioned Bar Merik had gotten off on the wrong foot with each other, but the shared pain of losing somebody important in their lives to the Chopper broke through the barriers between them. Though not friends, the two respected each other. Respect was something Qakisst valued highly. “Let me see. Scimitar and is that a Dawnflower emblem around your neck?” Merik looked over Laranys with a more discerning eye than most gave him credit for. “Can you heal, m’Lady?”

“I can.” Laranys blushed under the examination. “Though I do not think I will be able to heal many more. The day has already been long and there are limits to my blessings.”

“I understand. We’ll take any help we can get.”

The advantage of surprise lost, the invading goblin force found itself overrun by the town guards and its citizens. By three bells, wounded goblins could be seen running in terror from citizens with pitchforks. It had been nearly three hours since the goblin raid began. Qakisst felt exhausted. He could barely summon the energy for minor cantrips, let alone summon great gouts of fire. He climbed down the ladder on the back side of the town’s defenses and slumped down onto a bale of hay. Lying beside the bale along with another handful of wounded, one of Sandpoint’s guards caught Qakisst’s attention; his shield arm held in a tight sling.

“Is that you, Kisst?” The guard shifted on his improvised litter when Qakisst’s feet came into view.

“Hey, Pavo.” Qakisst nudged the soldier with his toe carefully in acknowledgement. “What are you doing loafing down here?”

“It’s not loafing when you get shot.”

“Korva is going to be pissed at you.”

“I got shot! Owww!” The exertion of yelling caused pain to shoot down Pavo’s arm.

“Yeah, but I bet you also taught her to swing that short sword your boss caught her with earlier.”

“Awe crap.”

“It is probably a good thing you got shot then, is it not? The sheriff cannot really shoot you himself now.”

“At least he would have used a clean arrow.”

“How bad is it?”

“The head went all the way. Lucky it didn’t hit anything vital. If it doesn’t get infected this may yet be my saving grace. Hurts like hell though.”

“You lose anybody?”

“I don’ know yet. I am just waiting for Bar to tell me I have to carry myself down to the Cathedral infirmary.”

“At least Temple Square is downhill from here.”

While the two sat talking, Laranys came up and knelt beside Pavo. “Can you sit up, guardsman?”

“M’Lady Laranys, allow me to introduce Guardsman Pavo Korbit. Pavo, this is Dawnflower Laranys.” Qakisst pointed to Pavo lying on the ground.

“Pardon my rudeness for not rising, m’Lady.” Pavo grunted as he tried to sit up.

Qakisst knelt to help Pavo sit upright. Laranys poked at the young guardsman’s wound. “It does not look like anything is left in the wound. I think it is safe to move you to the Cathedral where a more experienced healer can see to you. Guardsman Merik said to send any wounded that could still move to the infirmary. Can you stand?”

“If Kisst helps me up, I can make it.” The two unexpected heroes helped Pavo to his feet.

“So what’s the penalty for not going to this Lord Foxglove’s dinner tonight?” Laranys looked at Qakisst with a slight smile.

“For me, more than likely nothing since nobody expects manners from somebody that looks so much like a felborn urchin. But I like the food at the Dragon, so I will probably go just to see if Foxglove tries to exclude me. The music is also good enough to dance if you like more folksy music. For you, probably a bad reputation throughout all of Varisia for standing up Magnimar’s most easily offended noble.”

Laranys sighed softly. “I guess I am stuck then. Since I am staying at the Dragon anyway, I shall have to go. Get your friend down to the Cathedral first. I guess we will be dining together, Mister Vishtani.”

Pavo had the decency to keep quiet until the two were likely out of earshot before commenting, “Not bad, a date with a hot Dawnflower.”

“Shut up, Pavo.”

“Seriously, Q. You are either going to have to stop hiding from Ameiko, give up on that dream and go after somebody else, or go apply at the House of Blue Stones to be one of Lady Sorn’s fighting monks.”

Qakisst stopped in the street turning to Pavo. “If I punch you in the arm right now I bet you would pass out.”

“I took a dog-slicer to the gut for you, once. I think I get a little slack.”

“I set you up with your girlfriend. I think we are even.”

“She was going to dance with me anyway, so you still owe me. Ow, ow, ow, ow!”

Qakisst gripped Pavo’s left arm just outside the wound, squeezing lightly. “You are so lucky Korva likes you, Pavo.”

“And you are lucky I can take a knife.” Pavo grimaced as the pair walked slowly into the slightly damaged Cathedral entrance.

After delivering Pavo to the more merciful arms of Sandpoint’s clergy, Qakisst availed himself of confession in the open court of Sarenrae at the Cathedral. He returned to the armory where he found Savah sorting through debris from the attack to see if anything taken off the dead goblins had value or if it all would go into the smelter. “Good to see I do not have to go shopping for a new senior apprentice.”

“Good to see I do not have to go looking for a new job.” Qakisst smiled at Savah as he strolled into the open warehouse door. Knowing that any clean water in town was going to be tied up helping any wounded through the next day or two, Qakisst sighed and cast a cantrip to strip the grime, sweat, and blood from himself and his weapon. Simple spells may be quicker, but he really would have liked to just soak for an hour in a hot tub of water. It was rare that Qakisst could afford something as luxurious as a bath, but today it would have been worth the few coin he had left. Instead Qakisst hung his spear on the dividing wall that made up his room in the back of Savah’s Armory. He strapped on the light dagger that had been his heart-Mother’s and strolled back out the door as the city clock rang six bells.

Savah looked up after her apprentice as he walked by. “I thought you had spent your allowance already.”

“I got invited to the Dragon for dinner by Lord Foxglove.”

“Wait, Aldern Foxglove?”

“Yes.”

“Lord Aldern Foxglove?”

“Yes.”

“Lord Aldern ‘made me rework the basket grip on a masterwork rapier five times then complained about the price’ Foxglove?”

“Yes. Is that a problem Master Bevaniky?” Qakisst smiled knowingly at Savah.

“No.” Savah smiled wickedly with a slow drawl at Qakisst. “Do make sure that you eat something expensive though.”

“I plan to have seconds and be very drunk in the morning.”

“That’s my boy. I might even give you extra time off tomorrow if I hear that you spent enough of his coin.”

Qakisst chuckled as he walked down the hill toward the Dragon. The nice thing about being apprenticed to Savah was that most of Sandpoint was downhill, which encouraged Qakisst to spend time socializing. The bad part of being Savah’s apprentice was that after a night of revelry he had to trudge back up the hill to the armory to sleep; but tonight would be worth it. Fortunately Sandpoint was a small town and few places were more than a 10 minute walk from the armory.

As he strolled through the street people waved to him in that friendly manner that small town folks love so much. Sure, he was used to his close friends waving to him, and any Varisi in town always waved to cousin Kisst. But a few people that had never given Qakisst the time of day were waving to him as he walked by. When he passed the Bevuk family in the street and the whole family waved at him enthusiastically, Qakisst started to get paranoid. He looked around as he passed Grandmother Niska’s place but could not figure out who they were waving to so he waved back. They smiled and strolled on.

When Qakisst entered the Dragon it was packed tight. He considered backing out and mooching off of his friends down at the Feedbag when Lord Foxglove jumped up from his seat next to the hearth, “There he is. Quakiss! Come on everybody, let the boy through.” Foxglove paused for a moment, “No, let the young man through. You more than proved yourself more than a boy today.” The crowd parted for Qakisst and he was pulled forward to a seat. The crush of people around the table made him a little uneasy as they patted him on the back before he could make it to a seat. “Mighty Athos here was just telling us how the two of you helped each other clear the goblins from Temple Square.”

“Athos?” Qakisst looked questioningly at Lord Foxglove when a calloused hand gripped his shoulder.

“So this is the famous cousin Kisst?” The big Shoanti mercenary Qakisst had met earlier in the day dropped into a suddenly vacant seat next to him. “Athos. Be welcome, my cousin.” The big Shoanti shoved his hand out to Qakisst.

“Hi. Wait, famous? What?” Qakisst slammed his hand into Athos’ palm even as the mercenary’s words sank in. Despite being startled by being called famous, Qakisst gripped the big man’s hand firmly. He had learned long ago that most Shoanti despised a weak grip as a sign of too much city living, and 40 years of working around a forge had given him a respectable handshake.

“Good grip.” Athos slapped Qakisst hard on the back as the two men squeezed hands. “Get my new friend some ale!” he yelled over the crowd.

“Lots of years on a forge.” The statement brought an appreciative look from Athos.

“It cannot have been that many. Not unless they started you working a bellows in a diaper.” The crowd roared with laughter.

“More than 40 for sure. I do not think Sandpoint existed when I first cranked a bellows.” The comment turned some heads around the table and made Athos stare blankly for a moment before more laughter erupted at a nearby table.

Lord Foxglove called out to other members from his rescue party as they came in the door stunned by the crowd. Qakisst noted with a raised eyebrow that their host had saved seats next to himself for both Laranys and Tessa. As the night rushed forward the party spilled into the streets. Today had been a planned festival and now that the terror of the day being interrupted by goblins was past the entire town was determined to expend the rush of excitement in renewed celebration. As the floor opened up slightly Lady Ameiko Kaijitsu stepped up onto the stage of her own inn and pulled out the samisen she once used to wow crowds across Varisia. The fast and lively music prompted dancing across the large open floor. For the first time in his life, a complete stranger grabbed Qakisst’s hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

“Please dance with me, Q.” The lovely young lady, maybe 16 years of age, looked like she must be a Scarnetti girl, but Qakisst was not sure. She was clumsy at first and Qakisst was a bit taken aback by her forwardness. He was used to his friends and any of the Varisi dancing with him, but rarely would any of the other young women of Sandpoint so eagerly join him on the dance floor. The older Chelish and Taldan descended people of Sandpoint had until now tolerated Qakisst as a Varisi of dubious heritage at best. That their children would associate with him in public was considered scandalous to more than a few of their families, especially the conservative Scarnetti clan. But Qakisst recognize opportunity when it slapped him hard enough; he shifted his hand to the young girl’s waist, took a proper grip and took the lead in their dance. The young girl’s eyes lit up like the sun and stars were hers tonight as Qakisst spun her about the dance floor in the Taldan tradition that matched the music.

Two trips around the makeshift dance floor and his partner was breathless from the excursion. Qakisst deposited her next to an obviously stern and disapproving older sibling or cousin, gave a polite bow raising her hand to six inches from his chin, and bade her a good evening. “You are such a marvel that your dance card must be overflowing, m’Lady.” He then slipped into the crowd until seconds later another hand grasped his and gently pulled him onto the dance floor again. Once more a young lady that he barely knew took his hand and smiled at him hopefully. Fully in his element now Qakisst spun around the floor dancing on cloud nine. When his current partner tired he led her off the floor and bade her a good evening while complimenting her dance skills. His shins were never going to forgive him this punishment, but if he could knock down the barrier of prejudice that always separated him from much of the world he would endure.

At some point during the evening Lady Ameiko announced that she was giving free room and board for the week to Sandpoint’s newest heroes. Cheers flowed out onto the streets from the Dragon as each of their names were called. When their hostess called his name, Qakisst’s knees nearly buckled. The young lady currently gripping his arm waiting for a chance to dance with one of Sandpoint’s most newly eligible bachelors saved him from falling over. As the music started again with a different bard playing, the young woman tugged Qakisst onto the floor.

Most Varisi can dance quite well, but the average young lady of Sandpoint was not as practiced. More than one of his new partners had difficulty keeping up with the fast paced dances that the bards played. Only after a couple of hours did Qakisst finally see a polite exit for himself. And it was one that he felt would be a help for somebody else also suffering from a bit more attention than they were accustomed.

Dawnflower Laranys had been cornered for much of the night by Lord Foxglove. While polite and charming his attentions were not greatly appreciated by the quiet young priestess. Tessa had earlier solved the issue of the Magnimar noble’s wandering gaze and obvious, if charming, interest in her own way. When the noble had made subtle hints at spending time alone, Tessa had offered to do a free tattoo that only she would see. While effective for Tessa, the blunt offer had left poor Laranys the sole target of their host’s amorous attentions. Needing a rescue of his own, he decided that rescuing the young lady would grant him a polite exit. He skillfully guided his latest partner through the end of the current dance, bade her a fair evening, then before any other could steal his hand for the next dance gripped Laranys’ hand from the table and pulled her to her feet.

“A dance, m’Lady?” Even as he asked the question the young ifrit pulled the startled Dawnflower onto the open floor. Laranys’ stunned expression made Qakisst smile in a huge grin. “You looked like you desperately needed rescuing, m’Lady.”

“Resc… Oh bright lady, thank you!” Realization that Qakisst had spotted her dilemma and had arranged to be her excuse to slip away from Lord Foxglove brought a smile to her face.

“That’s better. Now the crowd will actually think we are slipping away together and nobody can complain about it. Well, nobody but the 20-odd women that have suddenly decided I can dance.”

“Suffering a bit of unwanted attention yourself, are you?” Laranys grinned at her dance partner as they moved around the room.

“I am used to being ignored by most Gadjo, um... non-Varisi, unless they are accusing me of something.” Laranys had not heard the strange term but the meaning was obvious. “I would like to go crawl into a hole and hide right now, but I do not think that would be the right move. I feel like the whole world is watching us.”

“Probably not a good idea.” Laranys agreed with Qakisst’s assessment as the two danced up to the bar. Qakisst leaned over the crowded bar, caught Bethana’s attention, and made hand signs trying to convince Ameiko’s bartender and cook that he needed separate keys for the two of them. It took him a moment to get the idea across to Bethana, even though she had known Qakisst for years. Bethana caught on to Qakisst’s plan and slid two keys to him and he pulled Laranys back onto the dance floor for one last round, passing by her travel packs. The two of them scooped up the travel packs and bid their host a good night. Unknown to them Lord Foxglove had weaseled out of paying for their meal when he had convinced the Dragon’s proprietor, Ameiko, to reward the new heroes of Sandpoint with room and board.

The young Sandpoint heroes slipped into the back hall leading to the rented rooms and went their separate ways for the night. “You dance quite well m’Lady. I will keep a space for you on my dance card.” Qakisst smiled at Laranys as he slid backward up the hall to his own room.

Qakisst barred the door before he stripped down for bed, having not brought anything to sleep in, and slipped between the sheets. The sheets were cool and made him shiver. When he came into the room his head had been abuzz with excitement from the day, but as soon as he was off his feet exhaustion overwhelmed him and pulled him down into sleep. The view was magnificent; a glorious city among the clouds.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: The Tomb:

As always the sun called to him just before first light and Qakisst could not refuse its call. He rolled his feet off the side of the bed and froze; his mind reeling with confusion. The floor felt strange, the bed was soft and comfortable, and the whooshing sound of the forge being prepped for the day was missing. Prying his eyes open slowly dispelled the confusion that had overwhelmed him. He was not in his little alcove in the armory; he was in the Rusty Dragon. He had been given free room and board to stay in the Dragon through the end of the week by the Dragon’s owner, the lady Ameiko Kaijitsu. This bit of stunning luck thrilled Qakisst to no end and he zipped to his feet casting prestidigitation even as he moved. The sweat, dirt, and grime of last night’s festivities peeled away from his body and his clothes, then from the bed and bedding. Qakisst did not like the idea of people having to clean up after him. He had spent too much of his early youth scrubbing up after unappreciative sycophants in his master’s house. Dressed and having straightened his room Qakisst slipped out the door and found Bethana cleaning up in the main room, working carefully around still sleeping patrons that had not managed to make their way home.
The sheer number of bodies slumped over tables or curled up in corners startled Qakisst. As he tiptoed across the room avoiding waking anybody he offered to return his room key but Bethana refused it, “Yours for the week, m’Lord. Does your room need cleaning?”
Qakisst whispered back, “Already taken care of, Ma’am.” He bowed as he stepped over the sleeping body of Banny Harker while he plucked up a hand full of bread and cheese that had been set upon the bar, and then slipped out the front door of the Dragon. “What a party.”
Strolling up the hill toward the armory Qakisst shivered in the crisp morning air. The warmth of summer had not yet fled south for the year, but the early fall morning was still cool and damp in the seaside town. As he approached the armory in the early morning light he saw Alma Avertin strolling up the street in his direction carrying a large basket of baked goods. The Avertin family had never treated Qakisst poorly, but had not really been close friends. Qakisst knew that Alma’s two daughters made deliveries of bread about town early in the morning, but he could not remember the elderly Alma doing so in years. As he walked around the side of the armory towards the side warehouse door Alma called out to him.
“Oh what a grand morning, my boy.” Alma smiled broadly crossing the packed cobble street toward Qakisst. Qakisst paused at her comment, obviously directed at him across the empty street, and waited patiently for the owner of Sandpoint Savories to catch up to him. “Quite a ruckus yesterday, was it not my boy?” Alma reached into her basket and pulled out a large round loaf of sweet bread and pressed it into Qakisst’s hands. “There you go my boy. You are not eating enough. Your mother would be cross with me if she could see how skinny you have gotten. Such a shame what happened to Liandra and my poor Casp.”
“Ma’am, I should not…” Alma shushed him before Qakisst could finish his reply.
“No arguments, young Kisst. Now off with you.” Alma patted him on the shoulder and shooed him towards the warehouse doors behind him. “Casp always said you were a good boy.” With that Alma tottered off to finish her rounds of delivering bread as Qakisst stared after her.
“What was that all about?” Speaking as one Keth and Benji Deskert, Savah’s two younger apprentices stepped up behind Qakisst. The twins commonly spoke as one person and at 14 years had already outgrown Qakisst by more than an inch. Qakisst pulled a large chunk of the sweet bread off the loaf and handed the rest back over his head.
“No idea.” Qakisst turned to enter the warehouse door.
“Sweet!” The ever hungry twins split the remaining loaf and alternated talking and stuffing their mouths with the still slightly warm bread, “Hey.”
“Savah said you are to go over to the mayor’s office…”
“…when you wake up. Are you awake yet…”
“…or just going to bed?” Both boys grinned, having found Qakisst’s cot empty when they had arrived to work that morning.
Qakisst was used to the two talking as if they were one person so he followed the conversation easily, “Waking up. I spent the night on a nice feather bed at the Dragon.”
“What! How’d you afford that?” The twin’s voices echoed in astonishment.
“Luck. Lady Ameiko gave free rooms for the week to the six people that rescued Lord Foxglove from goblins yesterday. Right place, right time.”
“So you told Lady Ameiko that you…”
“… helped save Lord Foxglove? Sneaky bastard.”
“I did not tell her that. Lord Foxglove did. He paid for dinner last night too.”
“Damn, Q. You really are one of the Sandpoint Heroes.” The twins’ echoing voices slammed around inside Qakisst’s head.
“I am not a hero.”
“That’s not what everybody was saying around town last night.”
“But we did not believe them until now.”
“Durdurun. Sadece dur.” Confusion, fear, and anger raged through Qakisst’s mind, “All I did was light a bunch of goblins on fire and poke at some more with a hunting spear.”
“But you killed a giant with that spear,…”
“…so goblins must have been like playing rat-stomp.” The two young teens beamed with pride at their fellow apprentice. Right then Qakisst regretted having ever told anybody why he kept the old boar spear even after the spearhead had been the only part that survived the Sandpoint fire.
“Can you two clear the back corner of the work bench please? I have something I want to start this afternoon.” Qakisst headed back out the warehouse door to go to Mayor Deverin’s office. He did not think the city would try to make him pay for anything that burned down yesterday, but with the odd way his day was starting it would not surprise him.
In some ways it turned out even worse to Qakisst. Apparently Lord Foxglove’s report of his rescue wasn’t the only story that had come across the mayor’s desk about Sandpoint’s newest heroes. Mayor Kendra Deverin did not gush or gawk. She was far too commanding and in control for that, but some of her office staff did. She was obviously quite proud of her nephew and his friends for stepping up when so many others ran screaming. Goblins individually were not terribly dangerous, but large packs could prove deadly. Four on one is goblins fun after all, and this had been dozens. When Qakisst arrived Caleb Deverin was already there telling his aunt how the others had jumped into action to stop the goblins while he just helped out where he could. Qakisst was rather impressed with the young ranger’s modesty as he was certain that Caleb had been the one to corner and kill the leader of the raid; but to hear Caleb tell it he had done little more than help everybody else.
Tessa’s descriptions of the events seemed more like an epic battle, and at least three people in the city office found themselves with appointments for a tattoo. If Qakisst had not been there, he would have sworn from Tessa’s tale that the gods themselves had strode into Sandpoint covered in ink. Tessa’s constant waving of her arms seemed to scatter papers everywhere, and as Qakisst watched the young girl her ephemeral qualities sparked a memory in the young ifrit. Efreet were not the only genie that could be summoned and bound on Golarion. Genie formed of the living essence of all the elemental planes served the caliphate in Qadira and Qakisst had seen before young women scarred by blue lines that swirled across their skin. Only now that he had taken time to study Tessa did he realize that her tattoos carefully hid the fine blue lines that denote the elemental nature of a Sylph. But in her excitement the lines practically sparked with electrical power, and he could just make them out.
Athos and Konnor were a little less shy about singing their own praise, though at least Athos did not brag. He quite honestly praised everyone around him for their actions too, making sure to point out accomplishments of each. Despite his bluster, Qakisst found himself liking the big Shoanti. Konnor’s description of events seemed to Qakisst to be tinted dark and sinister; and the mayor asked him at least three times why he was wearing that mask. Konnor seemed oblivious to the question and continued to describe an imagined conspiracy against the town. As Qakisst did not care too much for overt bragging he did not think very much of Konnor, but the point that the attack could be part of a larger plan sank home. There was no real reason for goblins to attack Sandpoint. They practically lived on the scrap and refuse from the town. Destroying Sandpoint would mean destroying their own source of livelihood.
Of the other five of Sandpoint’s new champions, only Laranys seemed truly embarrassed to be called a hero. Like Qakisst, her description of the events was about fear and desperation under the unexpected assault. Qakisst had the distinct impression that this was not the first scene of death the young Dawnflower had been witness to; just the first one that she had taken an active part in. Even retelling the story of yesterday’s events seemed to shake her just a little.
As the group finished their descriptions of yesterday’s events Mayor Deverin congratulated them and rewarded the six heroes with a portion of the meager wealth that had been recovered from the raiding goblins as well as a reward from the city. The sum was not outrageous, but the few hundred gold coins were more than Qakisst expected to be able to save up in years. The idea of having this much coin shocked him even as Athos slapped him and Caleb on the shoulders boasting, “Who says that honest work does not pay?”
Athos may have considered it honest work, but Qakisst found his newfound wealth intimidating. However, his years of traveling with a Varisi caravan had taught him the importance of showing no fear and keeping his money securely tucked away. Once word leaked out that Sandpoint’s heroes had spare coin they would have no end of convenient friends eager to stroke an ego, or more, for a few beers and a party. Qakisst was already getting a sense of that feeling from the number of young ladies that had unexpectedly filled his dance card last night.
Along with their reward came a price. Sheriff Hemlock had increased patrols around the town trying to figure out how so many goblins had slipped into the town at once. Reports of a ladder up against the wall near the cemetery had come in and word that one of the tombs had been disturbed was reported while the new heroes were finishing their meeting with Mayor Deverin. The mayor suggested that Hemlock make use of the young heroes to check out the tomb and see if anything was missing or damaged. Sheriff Hemlock led the band back up to the Cathedral grounds to inspect the site asking questions as they went about where they came from and what their plans were now. He paid particular attention to those who did not live in Sandpoint: Athos, Tessa, and Laranys.
Father Zantus, the religious leader at the Cathedral, lead the party out behind the temple grounds to the city’s graveyard where the groundskeeper, Naffer Vosk Dawnflower of Sandpoint, stood watch over the tomb of Father Tobyn. Father Tobyn had been the previous religious leader and much beloved by Sandpoint when he died in the fire five years ago. The city had interred him in the marble mausoleum that held the remains of the clergy who had passed since Sandpoint’s founding. As the party approached the tomb Tessa drifted around the smallish structure examining it. Qakisst, somewhat thoughtlessly stepped up to the unsealed doorway on the tomb’s western wall and pushed the door back to peer in, “Let me look for any straAAAHH!!!” His startled cry brought the others to readiness as a fleshless bone limb lashed out of the doorway with a rusted sword in its claw like hand.
Even as he stumbled back over a headstone Qakisst unleashed fire at the doorway, though it had no effect on the skeletal creatures that shambled out to meet the party. Athos and Caleb reacted quickly to the alert hemming the abominations in, but their heavy slashing weapons did little to the undead creatures. It was only when Dawnflower Laranys invoked the name of Sarenrae that waves of living energy surged out to smash the un-holy force holding the creatures together and the skeletons crumbled to dust.
Athos reached down to help Qakisst to his feet, “Don’ worry about it. I screamed like a little girl the first time something dead tried to grab me.”
“Hey, there is something on the floor in here.” Tessa, having seen the quick fight wisped into the now vacant tomb as soon as the last creature collapsed. “I think it is magical. I cannot tell what it is though.”
Qakisst more cautiously eased into the tomb to look, “May I, cousin?”
“You two are related?” Athos looked quizzically at the two so unalike Varisipen.
While Qakisst used the tip of his dagger to spread the dark robe she had found, Tessa looked up from her kneeling position, “We are both adopted by the Varisi clans. Cousins in spirit though not flesh.” Qakisst continued to focus on the arcane energies around him as he examined the robe.
“Or element.” Qakisst’s dry reference to the elements earned him a wicked glance from Tessa that confirmed his suspicion of her own elemental nature. “I am pretty sure that there is some form of necromantic enchantment on this robe but I cannot tell what exactly it did. Looks to be slowly fading away though. Probably used to control or even create those things then discarded when it had exhausted its power. Can we have Master Gandethus take a look at this? I am certain he will know more.”
“The lid on this sarcophagus has been moved.” Konnor’s observation drew everybody around. Qakisst almost forgot the slim half-elf was around when he was quiet.
Athos nodded to Caleb to take the other end of the stone cover as Caleb mumbled an apology to Father Tobyn for disturbing his eternal rest. The two big men shifted the cover around revealing the interior of the late Father Tobyn’s resting place. It was empty.

The Exchange

Most of my writing is of course from the perspective of my character. However, a few of the players have tossed in little bits of input, so with the help of our DM (Athos) I have given a few chapters in my extended story to their points of view. While Qakisst is a fun loving young man with a bit of a hedonistic streak his friend Caleb is serious and reserved. He's also somebody that Qakisst looks up to a lot. They also agree that Lord Foxglove is just about useless, but it just isn't acceptable to tell a noble from Magnimar to piss off;

Burnt Offerings: Foxglove's Invitation:

The shock of the theft of Father Tobyn’s remains weighed heavily on Caleb Deverin. Father Tobyn had been a kind and gentle man that Caleb remembered fondly from his childhood. That someone would steal his body sent a shiver down Caleb’s spine.
Reporting their findings to his aunt the mayor and taking the discarded robe to Master Gandethus for examination filled much of the remaining day. Master Gandethus was the head of Sandpoint’s Turandarok academy and orphanage, and had been an adventuring wizard of some skill in his youth. He quickly confirmed that the strange robe had in fact been a necromantic creation capable of concealing undead creatures in magical cloth strips that when pulled away from the robe released the full sized monstrosity under the command of the robe’s wearer. Father Zantus and Brother Vosk confirmed that none of the skeletal creatures destroyed at the tomb were the remains of Father Tobyn, much to everyone’s relief. That must mean that the robe had been the source of the undead creatures. The mystery greatly worried the sheriff and mayor, as the theft of a prominent cleric’s body by necromantic forces combined with the goblin raid did indeed point to a greater conspiracy.
As evening approached Caleb found his stomach rumbling horribly. While he was used to long trips in the wilderness, it had been a long day of investigating the strange events of the last few days. Nether he or any of his new compatriots had eaten anything since breakfast and once released to their own affairs all six quickly made their way to the Rusty Dragon for dinner.
“I need to let Savah know where I have been all day. I will meet you all at the Dragon.” Qakisst turned north up main street while the rest headed south.
This evening’s festivities were not quite as overwhelming as the previous night’s, though Laranys had the same difficulties dislodging Lord Foxglove’s attentions. Caleb was doing his part to help out the young priestess by trying to change the subject.
Qakisst was off dancing again, just like he always was. How he found so much enjoyment spinning around the floor, Caleb would never understand. He would just as soon be back in the field with his wolf friend following him around. Caleb did note that he saw one of their old classmates from Turandarok dancing with Qakisst on multiple occasions. Her bright yellow dress stuck out of the crowd, but what was her name..?
Just then Lord Foxglove interrupted Caleb’s thoughts. “The mighty Athos here was just telling me you are a ranger of some skill, Caleb. I do so enjoy hunting. Are there any places nearby to find some worthwhile game?”
“I, uh…” Caleb had not been prepared for a request like this and was struggling to catch up with the conversation. “Well the Tickwood nearby is known for its wild boars and deer, with the occasional firepelt cougar.”
“That sounds perfect! Do say you will come along Lady Laranys, my dear. I just know that you will enjoy hunting as much as I do.”
“Well, I don’t know. I will have to…” Laranys visibly paled at the thought of spending more time with Lord Foxglove.
Aldern cut her off mid reply, “Then it’s settled then. You too Athos, all of the heroes who saved me from certain ‘goblining’ will join me in the hunt. I will get us horses and all the gear, while Caleb here leads us off on an adventure.”
“Ha, a hunt it shall be!” The big man Athos seemed quite excited with the idea. If it was possible, it seemed to Caleb that Konnor rolled his eyes behind his mask while calling for another ale. While he had never seen his face, Caleb could see Konnor’s elven ears and they were darker in color than any elf he had ever met. Surely his human parent must have been Shoanti.
Caleb turned away from the doting Nobleman and scanned the room. Now Qakisst was dancing with the sheriff’s niece, Korva. Caleb wondered where her boyfriend Pavo was before he spotted him at the bar with his arm in a sling. Evidently their old friend had taken a goblin arrow during the attack.
“Do excuse me, Lord Foxglove, I must make preparations for our hunt in the morning.”
“I’m sorry, what? Oh yes, preparations. See you bright and early.” Foxglove barely looked up at Caleb as he was so focused on Laranys.
“Poor girl.” Caleb muttered to himself while moving over to the bar. “I see you survived the attack, Pavo. If only barely.”
“If you ‘heroes’ had killed them all sooner, this one wouldn’ have gotten in a lucky shot.” Pavo grinned at the young ranger.
Just then, Qakisst and Korva finished their dance and ended up next to the two men at the bar. “I see you found your way onto the dance floor again, Kisst.”
“There is music, there must be dance.” Qakisst smiled broadly.
“Nice to see you, Korva. How’s the family?” Caleb turned to Qakisst’s dance partner.
“Everyone is fine. And your family?” Korva smiled at her old classmate.
“Happy as can be making furniture and hoping I don’ die in the wilderness. You know, the usual.” Caleb turned back to the young ifrit. “Good news, Qakisst. Bring that spear of yours and meet the rest of us here in the morning. We’re going boar hunting. It seems we’ve really impressed this Lord Foxglove.”
“I am? We have?” Surprise crossed Qakisst’s face, “I am so glad somebody told me. What do you know; I might actually get to use my spear on a boar for once.”
“Well, after you have killed giants with it I just can’t see how hunting boars would be much fun.” The group laughed heartily at Korva’s jest until Qakisst bade his friends forgive him and slipped off to his room.
“I’d better be getting some sleep m’self. I’ll see you two later.” With that Caleb headed to his own room, spotting Laranys escape from Foxglove out of the corner of his eye as he left the common room.
“Smart girl that one.”

The Exchange

And since Sandpoint is such a welcoming town, here is sweet young Qakisst's introduction to women. This is the point we really start to see Qakisst's growing difficulty with language. Its not what you think though. No stories or rats or Shayless; not yet.

Burnt Offerings: A Night to Remember:

He strode across the clouds. Fire swelled in his chest and magic sang in his heart. But something was wrong. Something disturbed Qakisst’s slumber late into the night. The sound of music had long since died down, but a warm body had snuggled up close beside him. He only realized that he was not having a dream anymore when a hand began to slide down the front of his chest. This realization brought movement and Qakisst shot across the room to the corner where he could see who was in here with him. There was a brief silent pause before he spoke, “Laure Vieskin, ben bile bu karanlık odada görebiliyorum!” Qakisst’s voice was in a near panicked pitch as he desperately tried to remember everything he had done this evening, “No way your father would approve of finding us like this, Laure. Best you find your clothes and slip out quietly before someone comes looking.” Qakisst groped for a pillow from the sitting chair he had nearly tripped over leaping across the room.

“Nobody knows I am here, silly. It is just you and me, Q. Come back to bed, I’m cold.”

“Hayır. Uh, no. Laure please don’t.” Qakisst pleaded with his former Turandarok classmate. He remembered her preference for yellow and everything clicked into place. The girl in the yellow dress this evening that had kept slipping into his arms to dance had been Laure Vieskin; a young orphan girl that had left Turandarok to be a seamstress the year before he had apprenticed.

“Q, I know you never have the money to come visit the Kitten. And I also know you would not if you had the money, but I re…”

“The Kitten?” Qakisst’s startled reply cut Laure off, “You are working at the Kitten, Laure? Your fath…”

“Oh don’t you judge me, Q!”

“HEY! Sen benim odaya girdin! Ben yargıç olsun! Damn it; you snuck into my room! I get to judge!” Qakisst yelled back as he fumbled with his own tongue and tried to keep from dropping the pillow covering his midsection.

“Q, please!” Laure’s shoes thudded against the wall next to Qakisst as she snarled at him.

“I am not judging that. I was going to say that your father still would not approve of you being in my room. Am I wrong?” A loud thud rocked the wall behind Qakisst in reply to the shoes.

“Since Daddy has been dead for eight years, I don’ think he gets a vote.” Laure growled angrily at Qakisst, “And since momma died from winter fever you can skip trying that excuse too. I had no coin and Kaye gave me a job working behind the bar. You make good coin if you do more than work the desk though; and I never was good at anything but being pretty.” Laure folded her arms across her chest in a pout.

“You uh, O da iyi.” Qakisst choked on his own words as he was certain that even in the dark Laure would still be able to see him blushing.

“Well you’re not ‘sayach’ then, are you?” The Varisi term for shield mates made Qakisst frown slightly. Even as Laure sat up allowing the blanket to slide to the bed he could not turn away. “Come on, I do not bite unless asked.” An impish smile crossed the girl’s face.

“No Laure. I am not attracted to guys. I just cannot. Not now, not yet.” So far fear had overcome any excitement Qakisst felt seeing the beautiful young woman sitting on the side of his bed. Much of Qakisst’s life had been a living hell. The idea of passing that heritage on to anybody terrified the young otherworldly ifrit.

“Not even with me?” Even in pitch black of the room, Qakisst’s otherworldly eyesight could see Laure’s pleading gesture.

“That is not what I said, Laure.” Qakisst’s soft voice appeared to have an effect on her as Qakisst saw her expression change.

Laure reached down beside the bed and retrieved her yellow dress, pulling it over her head before standing, “You know everybody expects you to be a big spender now that you are a hero, don’t you?” Laure straitened her dress slowly in the dark as she slid her feet along the floor walking Qakisst into the corner. “I don’ want you to waste one coin on me. I just didn’ want one of those coin hungry moochers to steal you up before I even get a chance with you.” Her hands slipped along the wall until they found his shoulders then his neck and head sliding up to the long black horns that marked him as an ifrit and pulled his head back. The young man before her was trembling uncontrollably.

Qakisst tried to speak, “Laure, ben bunun iyi bir fikir …” she kissed him. As she did so she felt the heat of his body shoot up like no human she had ever touched as the pillow flopped to the ground. “…olduğunu sanmıyorum.”

“Pretty good for your first kiss, Q. So you know, I like heroes. I am not after your money. I actually make plenty where I am, and I like it. Just remember that when I came here looking for you I was not working. I really did just want to see you.” She smiled at him, not knowing he could see her even in the darkness of the closed room, “You are right though. Daddy would not have approved when he was alive. It took me all day to work up the nerve to come dance with you, then I came up with this stupid plan to sneak in here. I wouldn’t do this for just anybody.” She pulled away from him and reached down for her shoes, “You really are something, Sweetie.” Then she slipped out the door.

Qakisst slumped to the floor and sat with his head back against the wall, his tongue still tied by the fire inside him. “Ben gerçekten bu işleyemez,” he said in the voice of fire while the thought raced through his mind, “I really cannot handle this.” The emptiness of the room replied silently to him as Qakisst stared into the darkness until he dozed off to sleep on the floor. There were no clouds.

The Exchange

We started the adventure with a GMPC just to provide a basic sword and board tank for our extensive collection of misfits. I think our little Drizzt clone had the best AC of all the players so we've been thankful to have Athos to stand up in the front line. Of course that never stops impetuous Qakisst from jumping in spearhead first. Athos likes the young spiritborn Qakisst; but isn't too sure the boy will live to reach adulthood.

Burnt Offerings: The Boar Hunt:

Athos woke in the clean sheets of a bed in the Rusty Dragon just as the sun started to shine through the window. This was by far the nicest inn he had ever stayed in, and he got to stay here for free just for killing a few goblins! A man could get used to these kinds of rewards. The coming morning would bring the boar hunt with the foppish Nobleman from Magnimar to the south. But the fool was paying and it would be good to get out and hunt some game.

Athos quickly dressed and gathered his gear to head downstairs. True to her word, the tavernkeep was feeding them too. An older halfling woman brought a plate of food over to Athos as he sat down next to the young cleric, Laranys. “Good morning to you, Priestess. Have you seen any of the others?”

“Good morning, Athos.” She smiled up at the big man. “Qakisst ran out early this morning saying he needed to grab something from his home. Caleb left a bit ago to check on the horses with Aldern. I am sure Konnor and Tessa will make their way down here soon.”

“You sure they’re not in the mess down here?” Athos jerked his thumb at several people who had passed out on the floor after the previous night’s revelry.

“I do not see Tessa’s bright colors or Konnor’s mask. I am sure they made it to their rooms.”

Their other two companions did make it down to the common room before too long, with Konnor calling for an ale and Tessa complaining of the early hour. Shortly after Athos finished eating, Lord Foxglove showed up with Caleb.

“We should be off. We have a glorious adventure this morning, don’t we my dear?” Foxglove leaned in towards Laranys and Athos could see her discomfort. Athos was suddenly very glad she was the target of his attention and not him.

The group went outside to finish packing the horses Foxglove had rented when Qakisst returned looking the worse for wear. “We must hurry, hurry, hurry. Good Mr. Deverin here says that the best hunting is at sunrise and we are already late.” Foxglove called out to the group.

Qakisst rushed inside and grabbed some of the fruit and cheese that the halfling woman had set out for them. Athos saw her lean over the bar and whisper to him. Qakisst’s eyes widened like a frighten cat as his face turned an unnatural shade of red. She touched her fingers to her lips signaling a secret. Whatever this was, Athos was sure there was a good story behind it.

“Long night, my small friend?” Athos called down from his horse to Qakisst. Everybody else was already mounted on the horses, except Laranys who was carefully trying to pull herself up into the saddle.

Qakisst groaned, “Not long enough.” He grabbed the reins and pulled himself up. Athos thought he looked uncomfortable in the saddle. Caleb took the lead and headed down Market Street to the bridge over the Turandarok River to the Lost Coast Road.

Athos looked over the group as they rode. Caleb seemed practically at home in the saddle. Konnor did not seem to have any problem either, and both Tessa and Laranys had mastered the art of just letting their horses follow the others. But Qakisst’s horse did not seem to like him much. “Do the Varisi not teach you how to sit a proper saddle, Qakisst?” Athos pulled back next to him.

“I can hitch horses to the wagon, and run the wagon well enough. But riding them is more a skill of your Shoanti people.”

“You will have to practice more, my friend!” Athos grinned and spurred his horse back up next to Caleb.

For the next hour they rode behind Caleb’s lead to the Tickwood Forest. Lord Blabbermouth as Athos had come to think of him rode well enough, but he seemed to lack the ability to be quiet. He spent the whole time asking them all questions Athos considered pointless. Poor Laranys once again took the brunt of it.

Finally they reached the wood and Athos began to look forward to the hunt again. Fortunately the season was right and shortly Caleb had found fresh boar tracks. Big ones.

The group dismounted and began following the tracks. Thankfully Lord Blabbermouth was finally quiet. Quietly slipping along they spotted a wild boar rooting around bushes in a clearing. Caleb gave out quiet instructions to all then signaled the party to move on three.

“Three!” Caleb’s countdown signaled motion and before anybody else could even twitch Qakisst was into the clearing charging toward the boar. What was the fool doing? The small man was going to get himself crushed by a charging boar.

Qakisst set the heavy hunting spear against the charge he expected from a wild boar. The boar jumped to the side, and Athos could tell Qakisst had not seen the larger animal.

“Kahretsin.” Athos heard Qakisst swear in a foreign language as the almost horse sized boar slammed into his spear, but it only grazed along the thick beast’s hide. Its snout slammed into Qakisst’s midsection and nearly foot long tusks gouged into his belly. The great beast heaved him away as it rushed around the clearing. Now this was an animal worthy of hunting!

Laranys rushed over to Qakisst while Athos loosed his arrow at the beast. The rest of the party shot as well, with most finding their target. The big beast was having none of it, so Athos pulled his sword and charged in at the mammoth boar.

Laranys channeled the healing powers of her goddess and Qakisst rose to his feet unsteadily. Tessa was literally trying to barbeque the smaller beast alive after she failed a third time to hit the target with her crossbow. While Foxglove and Tessa finished off the smaller boar, Athos was holding off the big one as it tried to gore him with its tusks. Qakisst charged the larger one once more. This time he caught the big animal unaware and slammed his spear into its flank. In a rage the beast tried to turn at Qakisst as Athos and Caleb hacked at its head trying to subdue it. The boar spear’s design held the beast fixed, but it did not fall until Lord Foxglove, having pulled his blade from the smaller pig stepped into the fray and thrust the fancy rapier he carried into the animal’s chest. The fine thin blade designed to slip between ribs as easily as slash punctured the thick hide and sank deep into the boar’s side. With one last squeal the massive animal collapsed.

Athos was exhilarated. The nobleman might be annoying and be a general bother to the young priestess, but it was great idea to get out and hunt. “That was fantastic!” Lord Foxglove beamed. Their host had managed to land blows on both animals and his had been the killing stroke on the great beast nobody had expected to find. “This will be a most fantastic adventure to tell of back in Magnimar. Mr. Deverin, you have delivered everything I wanted. Tonight’s feast will be even better than the last two.”

“For real?” Qakisst mumbled as he looked up from where he had slumped to the ground.

“You’re the one that charged it.” Athos slapped the smaller Qakisst on the back.

“I charged the little one.” Qakisst tugged his spear head from the large boar’s side, “That damned things is as big as a horse.”

“Indeed a fine animal to best in battle. How will we get these two back to town? The larger one is too big to sling over any of our horses.”

“We drag them after I gut and bleed them.” Caleb looked over the massive carcass trying to figure out how to hoist it up from a tree branch so he could begin gutting it.

“Excellent, let me know how I can help, Caleb” Athos moved over to assist.

“Start with the small one and I will work on the big one.” Caleb had slung his rope over an appropriate limb.

“I will want samples.” Tessa turned away and headed back to the horses to get her portable alchemy kit.

“Samples?” Laranys’ voice trailed off at the comment.

“Alchemists. They want samples of everything. A little creepy now that I think about it.” Qakisst went to help Konnor in hoisting the animals. Laranys was left to attempt to dodge Lord Foxglove’s attention now that the thrill of one hunt was no longer distracting him from the other.

The morning’s efforts were exhausting but satisfying. Before midday had even arrived the seven hunters were crossing the bridge back into lower Sandpoint on Market Street. Caleb led Lord Foxglove to the side up River Street to the Dragon’s kitchen entrance dragging the two boars. There was no way the Magnimarian noble would be able to season and transport all the meat from the morning’s kill so the best use for it was in trade against his bill at the Dragon. Ameiko’s cooking staff was a bit taken aback to find themselves suddenly prepping a gigantic dire boar for the evening meal, but Caleb and Athos had done an excellent job gutting and cleaning the animals and the staff quickly adjusted their plans for the Dragon’s evening repast. As Caleb helped unhook the boar carcasses from the two horses Bethana and Lord Foxglove negotiated the price.

“Hey Qakisst, we are gonna go check the beaches and north timber for goblins.” Athos cocked his head toward Sandpoint’s north end, “You’re in, right?”

“Yeah, sure. I will catch everybody on the north end. I got to go by work for a moment.”

“Work? You're a hero now. Time to step out.” Athos smiled and turned his horse over to one of Master Hosk’s stable boys. So far it had been a good day indeed.

The Exchange

I think at this point a little introduction to our collection of misfit adventurers is in order;

Caleb Deverin: Ranger and apprentice to Shalelu Androsana, Caleb is the nephew of Sandpoint's Mayor. He prefers to get up close and personal; much to the chagrin of his elven trainer. Caleb fights with scimitar and kukri. Unknown to him, both his weapons were crafted 4 years ago by his friend Qakisst at the request of Caleb's father. Caleb loves life under the stars and can't hardly stand to be under a roof for more than a day or two.

Konnor Elvenblood: The dark skinned mystery man of elven heritage keeps to himself, drinks like three men, and is rumored to be of mixed Mwangi descent. How else could you explain his deep dark skin tone? He is only rarely seen without the porcelain full face mask that hides his features. He likes the graceful thin short blades of Tian origins (wakizashi), even though he has never been across the Crown of the World, and has an amazing talent for languages. So far I know that he speaks common, elven, Tien, ignan, and goblin. He is also familiar with Thasalonian runes and has been seen hanging out with old Brodert Quint. Konnor commonly boasts that he is invincible and brags that he will have Ameiko as his wife one day.

Tessa Varisipen: The quirky and not quite right alchemist dresses in Varisian colorful clothing and is covered head to toe in intricate tattoos of her own design. Frighteningly intelligent, and perceptive; Tessa never seems to be paying attention to anything yet remembers everything. But anybody that looks deeply into her eyes will realize that there is a darkness there peering back up out of the depths. There is a strange detente between Tessa and the Sczarni.

Laranys, Dawnflower of Sarenrae: The beautiful but shy devotee of Sarenrae has come to the Lost Coast searching for her missing father. In doing so she has found herself caught up in the strange goblin attacks on Sandpoint, but this is where the trail her father left behind led her and she has no other ideas of where to look. She can fight with the traditional weapon of the Dawnflowers, but prefers not to fight at all. She would especially prefer not to have to fight off the advances of a certain Magnimarian noble; but doesn't seem to have a choice.

Athos: The halfblood Shoanti/Varisi fighter came south from Riddleport looking for the slavers that kidnapped his older brother. But the ship he hopes to meet won't be back to Magnimar for at least a month and until then a man has to eat. So he's wandering the Sandpoint area looking for work. And he's found it in spades. He respects the Shoanti preference for two handed weapons and lighter armor, but prefers heavy armor with the sword and board himself.

Qakist Vishtani: An escaped slave and refugee from Qadira; Qakisst found himself adopted into the Varisi life by bard and harrow reader, Liandra Vishtani. Life has rarely been good to Qakisst, but the sun seems to guide him even as his shoes chose to stay in Sandpoint. He fights with fire and with the boar spear that he has carried since before his mother died 16 years ago. Young, brash, and careless; Qakisst is more popular than he realizes even with his less than reputable friends among the Sczarni.

Eventually there will be a few other introductions. And maybe some background NPC information; but this is our motley crew to start.

The Exchange

Parts of the story veer clear of goblin hunting. The GM has worked fairly hard to have us develop actual lives in Sandpoint. I've done quite a lot to make Qakisst a willing and happy citizen of Sandpoint; despite the Troubles of the past.

Burnt Offerings: Master Weaponsmith:

“Yeah, I am a hero. Right.” Qakisst mumbled to himself as he shook his head while he hurried up the street toward Savah’s. He moved quickly so that he could talk to his boss before meeting the others at the top of the hill.

Within minutes Qakisst zipped into the warehouse doors of the armory calling out to his boss, “Savah!”

“Front counter!” Twin replies directed Qakisst to the shop at the front of Savah’s Armory. He turned to his right and slipped through the door into the actual weapon shop at the front of the building.

Slipping around the open door Qakisst looked across the back of the counter. Seated at the far end Savah was looking through a collection of knives ordered by one of her many regular customers. “Savah?” The shop’s owner did not turn as Qakisst stepped up beside her.

“You are going to make me start looking for an apprentice early, aren’t you?”

“No. There are just some things I am being asked to help with. The mayor and sheriff asked us to look into where these goblins came from while the sheriff is organizing defenses just in case there is another raid or something.”

“I know. I already talked to the sheriff’s office.” Savah finally turned to Qakisst smiling, “And, I have not received the letter covering your review yet…”

“I did not think you would have.”

“Quiet boy, you’re interrupting me. I said I have not received the letter yet, but I already know the results.”

“I know. Not ready yet.”

“You are interrupting me again.”

“Sorry.” Qakisst felt a sense of disappointment swelling within him as Savah continued. He knew he was not ready yet, but had still hoped that the guild masters might at least be impressed by his progress.

“And yes you are ready. The Weapon and Armor guild have agreed to register you as a Magnimarian Weapon Smith. They have not sent the letter yet because they have to scribe the license as well as the letter.” Qakisst’s jaw dropped open. “It will be a couple more weeks before your paperwork arrives, but as of this month, you are your own man at last.”

“I…” Qakisst blinked, and his stunned expression brought a large smile to the woman who had been his trainer and mentor for just over five years.

“Do not worry boy. You always have a place here if you need it. I get to put up a sign saying, home of a Sandpoint Hero to boost sales. Maybe I will turn your cot into a tourist attraction. Put up a little plaque describing your humble beginnings.”

“SAVAH!” Qakisst recovered his voice at the thought of Savah cashing in on his silly reputation.

“Get out of here kid, go save the world or something.” Savah ruffled her hand through the coarse Mwangi curls that covered Qakisst’s head and pushed him toward the door. Qakisst mouthed an almost silent ‘Thank you’ as he stepped out the door. Savah whispered when he was gone, “I know damned well that your shoes are no longer laying under the cot at the back of my workshop, boy. Go make your mothers proud.”

“Hey guys.” Qakisst caught the attention of Savah’s younger twin apprentices, “I have a project in mind. Can you make me pair of long boxes for clay molds? One hand wide, as long as my spear, and half a hand deep each. And do not waste time on my project if Savah needs you for anything.”

“A four cubit box? What for?” The twins’ voices faded as Qakisst hurried up the street toward the north side of town.

“Sorry guys, I will explain later.” Leaving Savah’s Qakisst rushed up the hill to the north face overlooking Junker’s Cove and Chopper’s Island. He was still stunned and over excited when he arrived at the top of the hill where he found the other Sandpoint heroes debating their next actions. Searching the woods as some suggested seemed an impossible task, but searching the beach for tracks caught on as everybody in Sandpoint knew that goblins raided the junk pile off the north face. Sandpoint residents had for years dumped their unwanted trash off the north face near the Old Light, an ancient Thassilonian ruin that predated the town by more than a thousand years, trusting the tides and winter storm surge to clean up after them.

The debate settled; the sextet made their way west to old Gorvi’s place. Gorvi was a half-breed orc that ran the crew that disposed of the chamber pot contents and made sure that trash did not become a problem for the town’s residents. As the heroes walked through the path past Gorvi’s house overlooking the north face the half-orc stood up from whatever he was doing and leaned on a shovel. They quickly questioned him on if he had seen any extra goblin activity before the attack and received a negative response. The group headed down to the long rough-carved steps that he used to access the beach when things became too cluttered down below. A search up the beach more than a couple miles resulted in nothing more than sporadic goblin tracks just above the tide line that disappeared repeatedly into the tide washed sand and rock. Caleb scoured the beach and cliffs for more than three hours with help from his compatriots but found no way to track the goblins back to their source.

Frustrated, angry, and more than a little hungry the group returned in late afternoon to Sandpoint and made their way back to the Dragon to find Lord Foxglove celebrating the morning’s hunt. Moods lightened and the evening’s revelry started. Good food, good drink, and good company set Qakisst to dancing as always. The celebration might even have matched the festivities the night of the Swallowtail Festival inside the Dragon as Lord Foxglove reveled in telling the story of how he helped the Sandpoint Heroes fell the dangerous beast that made up the evening’s meal.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: Easy Money:

Konnor awoke feeling better after yesterday’s futilities on the beach. He had wanted to find how the goblins got into town so they could put an end to this threat. Surely ending the threat of goblins to her town would help him catch the eye of the pretty Ameiko that ran this inn. Sighing to himself, he decided he should head downstairs and see what today would bring. Konnor ran the tonic through his hair that he used to dye it from white to brown and grabbed the mask he used to hide his dark heritage from the world.

Peering down from the top of the stairs, Konnor saw Qakisst walking towards Caleb and Athos who were talking to one of the town watchmen. Laranys sat to the side sipping tea while Tessa was pouring over notes for something she had pulled from her travel pack. No one spotted Konnor as he snuck down into room.

“Hey Neider,” Qakisst greeted the young guardsman as he slipped into a seat at the table. The young guardsman smiled at being addressed by name. Being remembered by one of the now famous heroes obviously excited the young guardsman.

“Neider was just telling us that Sabyl Sorn is looking for escorts to accompany her on her monthly trip up to Windsong Abbey past the Nettle Woods.” Caleb’s eyes rolled seeing Neider’s beaming face, but he managed not to laugh.

“Is that not usually something the city watch does for Sister Sabyl?” Qakisst seemed puzzled at the request.

“Sheriff Hemlock is reluctant to send guards away from Sandpoint until he knows more about what set the goblins off. He was pressing the sister to wait a week or so, but she insists that she needs to keep to her regular schedule. He though that you lot might be willing to make the trip for appropriate compensation.” Neider looked somewhat nervous about asking his new heroes to take on the task.

“Paid?” Qakisst almost seemed like he was going to volunteer that they do it for free. By Cayden Cailean, this group made Konnor need another drink. He started to step into the conversation before the ifrit came to his senses. “Seems reasonable.”

Athos gripped his chin, “We were discussing how much we would be paid.”

“Sister Sabyl will have to negotiate any price with you. She said that if you would be agreeable to the task to meet her at the House of Blue Stones, and to be ready to depart at noon.”

“Sounds good to me.” Konnor chose to reveal himself. By the small jumps they made, he knew nobody had even seen him join them at the table. Smiling to himself he lifted his mask only enough to bite into a piece of fruit.

Qakisst tipped his head to the side and tried to peer under the edge of the mask as Konnor ate, “What is it with you and that mask?”

Konnor turned his chair to block Qakisst’s view and resumed eating, “If you see under my mask I have to kill you for your own good.” It was easier to lie and let them all think him a half-elf than to reveal his secret.

“What are you, five?”

“Stop fighting, children.” Laranys smiled as she rebuked the two. “I say we go see Sister Sabyl to see what kind of payment she is offering. I could use extra coin to keep my travels going, and I doubt anybody else here is adverse to a little honest work.”

Qakisst smiled as the group agreed, “My shoes have been looking for something to do anyway. Count me in.”

Laranys looked at Tessa, “What does that mean, his shoes need something to do?”

Tessa shrugged, “Varisi like to travel. When the urge to travel gets to be too much we say that we are going looking for our shoes.”

Negotiations with Sister Sabyl were swift. She offered an acceptable amount of gold for the simple three night round trip, although Konnor would have liked to try and negotiate for a bit more. Caleb set them all out to gather supplies and the six of them gathered at the House of Blue Stones just before noon. Their trip to the monastery was peaceful and without event. The half day spent waiting for Sister Sabyl to finish her business left Konnor with an opportunity to practice picking pockets. The rubes around the monastery were even easier to trick than the folks back in Sandpoint. As always, he dropped what he had stolen for the day in the offering tin of the monastery and made his way back to where Athos and Caleb were training their weapon skills. Like Konnor, Caleb used a weapon in each hand to attack, while the Shoanti warrior used his shield to block the blows. While they were better in a frontal attack, neither of them could deal damage as effectively as Konnor when he got behind the opponent’s defenses. After a while, Konnor got bored of practicing with the two warriors and made his way back to the inn where they were staying. At least the ale was decent here.

The next day, on the first leg of their return trip, Caleb found unusual tracks that crossed the road every so often. It bothered Caleb that he did not identify them, that they looked vaguely like horse tracks but as if the horse had impossibly been dead for days. Nor could he follow them far into the woods before they disappeared. Along with these strange tracks there were goblin tracks. Lots of them crisscrossing the road; tracks that had not been there the day before. Shortly past noon Caleb’s suspicions were confirmed when the party found a tree felled across the road. As soon as the party came around a curve to find the fallen tree Goblins leapt from the brush and rushed at them. Having been forewarned though, the party made quick work of a dozen goblins. Sister Sabyl fell three of them with lightning fast kicks and punches that impressed Konnor, although he knew he could do better. Laranys became worried when they discovered a crude map on the leader with depictions of a fallen tree and what looked like it could be the group of them. A search of the surrounding area turned up a farmhouse and a family hiding in a storm cellar from goblins that they had spotted in the area.

Clearing the road took a little longer and by the time they had set things to right another night was spent camped under the stars. Konnor enjoyed nights like this, as it reminded him of growing up in the Mierani Forest where his parents had died. He never knew his birth parents, but he looked back fondly on the days growing up with his adopted elven parents that taught him how to resist the dark nature his parents’ birthed him into.

The Exchange

This one is probably the longest chapter written, but it was also the most fun. I requested that each of my fellow players provide me a short background story their character would tell around a campfire. Surprisingly three of my fellow players and the GM provided me with a background story that their character would gladly share with their fellow adventurers. The one who did not is our very private and reclusive rogue of dubious elven heritage; so it actually made sense that he would not provide a story.

If you bother reading any of my journal, read this;

Burnt Offerings: The Abby Tales:

The quiet night without Lord Foxglove and several dozen admirers chasing each of them finally gave the group a chance to do what they had never done: actually get to know each other. The people of Sandpoint were treating the six of them like a single group, or family, yet most of them actually knew nothing of each other. Qakisst squatted next to the campfire poking at it with a short stick sending light ash into the air “So, another night under the stars. Please tell me that somebody brought a deck of Harrows? I am bored to tears.”

Laranys leaned back against the fallen tree that the group had been forced to drag out of the road, “I thought Harrows were a fortune tellers tools.”

Qakisst looked up at her with a slight chuckle, “Well, yes. Harrows can be used for fortune telling; but they are also playing cards. More Varisi use them to seek fortune than to seek the future.”

Caleb strolled into the camp carrying a quartet of skinned rabbits on spits to roast over the fire, “Have you not lost enough coin playing Harrows with your friends down at the Feedbag, Kisst? No, we have a camp with a fire, and at least three Varisi around it. Let’s stick to the tradition of telling stories.”

Qakisst propped up pairs of crossed sticks tied with vine for Caleb to mount his catch for the evening over the fire, “That is fine with me, Caleb. And since you brought it up, you can start with the story of how you became the apprentice of Sandpoint’s famous Shalelu Andosana. I have never heard it in first person before.” Qakisst grinned devilishly at Caleb. “And you know the rule. I called you for a story so you cannot call me next.”

Caleb looked annoyed at being caught in his own trap and sighed, “Okay, but you are going to get it later cousin.” He sat leaning against the fallen tree and looked up at the stars, “

"Oh, my god." Tessa sighed in protest, her legs kicking up. "There are probably people in Celwynvian that have heard this one before!" She spun around abruptly, flopping herself on the ground in front of the campfire. "You guys are adventurers, aren't you? Don't you have cool stories, like being chased through the mountains by Rocs?" By this time, her focus was loosely directed towards the campfire, rather than any of her compatriots. If any were protesting, she would not have heard.

She flipped off of her back, grabbing a piece of parchment from her pack as she spoke. "Which reminds me, this one time my family was on a trip to Jol, and I promise you we saw a flock of giant vultures go by. They circled us for three days while we hid out in a cave system. We ended up running for it and one of them almost ate my uncle Faerys. You know; stories like that?"

An inking of a vulture mid-capture had appeared on the parchment in front of her, despite how clear it was that her mind was barely on the task. "I mean, I guess his story idea is fine, but I'm not popping any popcorn over it. Do you mind if I see those cards?"

“If I had cards Tessa, we would not be telling stories." Qakisst dropped his face into his hands and sighed.

Athos looked over at Tessa laughing, “I would think you would at least have props for your story, Tessa. Chased by giant vultures? Who is going to believe that?” Athos’ laugh was interrupted when Laranys pointed out the feather quill Tessa used.

“I think she is holding her prop in hand.” Laranys smiled at Athos’ stunned expression. “That is an amazingly big feather quill you have, Tessa. Now, if you would all be so kind I would like to hear what happened to Uncle Faerys. Please continue, Tessa.”

"No, No. Hold on Laranys; Cousin Kisst, as some of us like to call him, wants to hear my story about meeting Shalelu. He caught me in my own trap, so, I will oblige him; although I thought this was already common knowledge in Sandpoint.”

“I’m sorry, but who is this Shalelu? I’ve only arrived in Sandpoint recently.” Laranys seemed a touch embarrassed to interrupt.

“She’s not quite a bounty hunter, a survivalist, or a mercenary, but rather a mix of all three. She’s an elven woman who make it her mission to keep the goblin populations around Sandpoint in check. I figured Auntie Kendra had already regaled everyone with the tale, but it appears I was mistaken."

“Not all of us are so privileged as to call the mayor ‘Auntie Kendra,’ Caleb.” Qakisst stuck his tongue out at Caleb briefly, “Now, let us here it from the source.” Caleb shushed Qakisst as he turned the spits, growing unusually quiet, even for him. He stared off into the distance and it was as if he had left his body and was somewhere else.

"I never really felt comfortable helping my father with his furniture making business. I always felt confined, and almost a little claustrophobic, inside the workshop. I chalked it up to a youthful spirit that would eventually calm down as I got older and become, as my parents always put it, ‘A responsible adult.’ The problem was that the older I got, the more disinclined I became to taking over the family business. I could make furniture, but I could not craft it, not like my father or younger brother can. They truly have a knack for creating beautiful pieces, whereas mine are barely functional. I was resigned to the fact that I would have to do better and force myself to like carpentry, but all that changed in the winter of 4702."

"The Chopper had just started his murder spree, so everyone was on edge and terrified of their own shadow. My father had been tasked with building coffins for the victims, in addition to the regular orders he normally received. He was busier than a one-armed dwarf in a silver mine and could not take the time to deliver anything to our customers. My younger brother was delivering a large table and chairs in town, so he was using the family wagon and horse. My mother, who did some minor sewing when she wasn't taking care of the household, had just finished making a set of napkins, tablecloths and doilies for one of the outlying farms. Needing the extra coin to purchase lumber for the coffins, I was sent to deliver them and collect payment. My parents were, to put it lightly, completely panicked at the fact I would be traveling by myself with a madman on the loose. I was not concerned though, because I had my trusty kukri, a birthday gift the year before, and knew I could take care of myself if something happened. I had no idea how wrong I was."

"I delivered the items as my mother instructed and was on my way back to town when the ambush happened. Looking back on it now, I should have seen the signs: The tracks in the dirt, their smell, the stillness of the land, the vultures overhead looking for scraps from their kills. Had I known then what I know now, my ignorance would not have nearly gotten me killed."

"Four of the green little bastards jumped me only a few miles from town. They surrounded me and began poking me with those damned little dogslicers they carry. I knew right away I was a dead man. We always heard the phrase, ‘Four on one is goblin fun’ from our parents, but now I truly knew what it meant. They didn' kill me right away; instead, as the leader put it, ‘We likes to play with our food before we eats it.’ They taunted and mocked me for several minutes, darting in and out, slashing and poking me with their crude weapons. You would think, with their poor quality, dogslicers would not be much of a threat, but in the hands of a goblin they can be deadly. I held on for as long as I could, but the multitude of pinpricks, slashes and bruises began to take their toll. Nearing complete exhaustion, I somehow managed to find a surge of strength and decided that if I was going to meet Pharasma I was going to take as many of these little psychotic marsh rats with me as I could."

"I lunged at one and slashed him deep across the throat.” Caleb had a pleased look on his face at the memory, “I will never forget the surprised look on his face as he collapsed in the dirt; choking on his own lifeblood. The remaining three goblins seeing one of their own dead lashed out at me, and in quick order I too was starting to bleed out.” The normally quiet ranger became animated as his limbs remembered each move of the fight, “Summoning my last little bit of strength I stood tall, gripped my kukri, and focused on the leader. I was determined to kill him before I met my fate. Before I could do anything, though, I heard a zipping noise; almost as if bees had flown by my ear, and one of the goblins was blown back a half dozen cubits with two arrows buried in its chest. He still had a maniacal grin plastered to his face as his dead body slammed into the ground." Caleb gazed wide eyed across the fire with his arms spread at Tessa; who yawned while drawing silly looking goblin faces in her notebook.

"Not knowing or caring at this point who my savior might be I parried the attacks of the last two. They apparently did not realize the danger and still wanted to kill me. Somehow, with my last little bit of strength, I managed to block a thrust and then slashed one SOB across the midsection, disemboweling him. As I collapsed to the ground, completely spent, the leader stepped up on my chest and arced his dogslicer down towards my throat. Knowing that this was the end I tried to focus on his face, but the loss of blood caused me to black out. I uttered a short prayer as the darkness closed over me,…” Caleb gave a thoughtful look into the night sky, “…but curiously though, I heard that odd buzzing noise again."

Tessa made an unnaturally accurate buzzing noise like arrows zipping through the air as Athos poked at her to be quiet, “Shush Tessa.”

"I awoke inside what I would later realize was one of Shalelu's emergency shelters. She has several of them set up around the hinterlands, stocked with food, bandages, and other supplies. I had heard of her before, but I had never met her. She told me she had been tracking the goblins when she came upon the ambush. Lucky for me she was in the right place at the right time.”

“It took me several days to recuperate enough where I could travel. During that time I asked all sorts of questions of her. How did she track them? How did she know what medicines to use on me? How did she get so good with a bow? I think she felt a little uncomfortable with the amount of attention I was giving her; but I was impressed, and in awe, of her abilities. Eventually she escorted me back to town and to a big hero's welcome. Everyone thought I had died at the hands of the Chopper; but here I was safe and sound. After several more days of rest I returned to helping my father in the workshop; but I knew this life was not meant for me. I knew I wanted Shalelu to teach me everything she knew about the wilderness. I knew I wanted to be a ranger."

“I had heard that it was eight goblins. Old Gressel must be spicing up the story for the customers when he tells it.”

Qakisst glared at Tessa, “Oh knock off Tessa. Not everybody’s uncle used to date a Griffin.” The group laughed as Tessa stuck her tongue out at Qakisst. “Okay Caleb, who is next? And you know the rule; you cannot call the person that called you.”

Caleb looked around the group, firelight flickering in their eyes as dusk turned to full blown night. He turned the spits again, poked the fire and suddenly stiffened. Cocking his head ever so slightly, the ranger shifted his weight and looked slowly back over his shoulder. "Sshh", he said in a barely audible whisper, placing a finger to his lips.
"What is it?" said Tessa, “Ghosts of your goblin attackers come to get us? Spooky.” The tattooed Varisi rolled her eyes.

"Boy you're a sly one", Caleb said into the darkness; ignoring Tessa. "I almost didn' hear you this time." He reached across to the fire and sliced a small hunk of half cooked hare off the spit. Using his dagger, Caleb lightly tossed it into the darkness.

"What the hell are you doing?" yelled Athos. "That's our dinner!"

"Wolfie", said Caleb and everyone tensed up, expecting an attack. "No worries though. He's been following us,...” Caleb glanced up over his shoulder, “…well me actually....for some time now."

“You’re being stalked by a wolf?” Athos looked doubtful while gripping the sword at his side.

“He didn’t have coin for the Kitten.” Konnor eased closer to the fire to cut off a bit of rabbit before it was all gone; even as he picked on Caleb. Qakisst nearly choked at the suggestion.

Laranys craned her head to see past Caleb even as she reached for her scimitar nervously, “The Kitten? What is the Kitten?”

Tessa whispered to Laranys, “You don’t want to know” even as she craned her head to peer into the darkness beyond Caleb.

Everyone strained to see if they could pick out the shape, but Caleb just chuckled. "You won't see him. Hell, I can barely spot him in the thickets during the day. None of you will see him in the darkness, even with night vision. Every once in a while I will hear him as he rubs up against a stray branch. No, the only way to truly sense him is to smell him." Everyone looked at Caleb as they heard the rustling of a bush only a couple cubits from the edge of the camp light, the sound of something sniffing, and then the crack of bone as the mysterious visitor slowly began to enjoy the treat that was tossed its way.

"I have tried to get close to him, but every time,…” Caleb shrugged, “…he scoots off into the underbrush and disappears. Frankly, I am surprised he's gotten this close; what with all of you here." Caleb sliced another hunk off the spit and turned to toss it, only to find the wolf just outside his reach. Before he could let go the meat was snatched from his hand and the wolf darted back into the darkness.

The entire party stared after the wolf into the darkness, "Huh. Never seen that before. Guess he must be getting used to us. Anyways, how about you tell us why you're in Sandpoint, Athos." Caleb stared into the darkness even as he spoke.

“I told you not to feed strays, Caleb. They follow you everywhere.” Tessa lay back and stuck her bare feet up in Athos’ lap exposing the tattoos upon her feet and calves. “See any ink you like?” Athos flushed red and shifted out from under her feet.

Athos looked around at the odd collection of folks before starting to speak. "Well, I stopped off in Sandpoint traveling down from Riddleport.” At the mention of the mysterious pirate town Qakisst’s head snapped up. “A storm was coming and I wanted a roof over my head instead of another wet night out in the open. I got a room at the White Deer, being as how Garridan seemed like an honest innkeep.”

“He is a good man, Master Garridan.” Qakisst lifted his cup in a salute then sipped. Caleb quickly followed suit.

“In the morning, I explored the town a bit. It seemed a nice place to find some work and save up a bit of coin before heading the rest of the way south to Magnimar and beyond. I then found out there was the big Swallowtail festival coming up. Since Sandpoint is a much nicer place to pass the time than my experiences in Riddleport, I decided to hang around until then. And well, you guys know what's gone on since then."

“Is Riddleport that bad?” Qakisst raised an eyebrow quizzically?

“Worse.” Athos scowled at the mention of the vile pirate city.

"If it’s that bad; what brought you to Riddleport in the first place, sir?" asked Laranys.

"Heh, who you calling 'sir', priestess? Too polite for a frontiersman like m'self. My father was Shoanti and I grew up with his clan in the lands east of Riddleport. Momma was Varisi and she taught me and my brother, Grekor, their tongue. Though these days I don’ remember much of it.”

“Well, no more passing private messages with Tessa, Qakisst.” Caleb kicked a small log towards Qakisst and pointed to the fire. Qakisst shuffled the log into the campfire carefully so as not to burn himself.

“Shush you.” Tessa stuck her tongue out at Caleb. “Qakisst was just asking about tattoo inks earlier.”

An almost dreamy expression settled into Athos’ face as he continued without pause, “We had a nice life in our village; learning to ride, to hunt, and to fight. That all changed while Grekor and I were out on a hunting trip; we were not much more than boys at the time. We had tracked a herd of aurochs several hours out of the village, and had brought one down. As we were cleaning the kill to take home, Grekor saw a group of giants off in the distance. We tried to stay out of sight as they passed. We were no match for a Hill Giant raiding party.” At the mention of giants, Qakisst began to fidget uncomfortably while Tessa sat up with some interest. “We couldn't keep up with them without drawing attention to ourselves, but they were heading toward our village. To this day, I'm not sure what they were after, but they just about tore our village to the ground looking for it. By the time we got there, three of the Hill Giants had been slain, and the others driven off.”

Laranys gasped, and Qakisst hung his head while shuffling in his seat uncomfortably. Tessa leaned forward studying Athos closely. “Scores of my clansmen lay dead. We finally found father, cradling the broken body of our mother. Those that survived the attack moved on to other clans, but we headed for the safety…" Athos spit as he said the word, “of the city." Qakisst stood up and walked into the darkness outside the campfire light.

“Where’s he going?” Tessa nudged Caleb and nodded towards Qakisst, having drifted all the way around the fire without anybody even realizing it.

Caleb leaned over and whispered to Tessa, “He doesn’ like giants much. Never says why; thought rumor is that he killed one with that boar spear. Not really believable; but Garridan’s kids will swear by it.”

"May Sarenrae watch over their spirits. I am so sorry that you had to go through that." Laranys looked a bit taken aback by the frankness of his story.

"Maybe she will, Laranys, but such is the life of the clans living in the shadow of the Storval Rise. Anyway, city life proved to be just as dangerous. But it was harder to know who the enemy was in Riddleport. Riddleport is a stinking sore upon this land, run by thieves and pirates.” Athos scowled at the thought of the den of thieves. “Father was never the same after the attack, and he gave in to a fever that winter. Grekor found work as muscle for some of the local gangs; while I did my best to find honest work in Roderic's Cove. It was a harsh life, but we did the best we could with it being just the two of us looking out for each other. Grekor kept his hair shaved and carried an earthbreaker he won in a bet.” Athos smiled at the memory of his brother, “He liked to play up the barbarian from the wild-lands aspect to help him intimidate people. I favored blending in and studied the more heavily armored ways of the town's professional soldiers. One night about six months ago, Grekor told me he had heard of a job paying gold, and I wouldn't have to rough anybody up. We met up at the bar where he said the meeting was and found several other men there. We had just grabbed an ale when armored men rushed the bar. Grekor and I fought our way to the exit; killing one of our attackers. We got separated in the alleys during our escape and he was captured. I later found out he had been sold into slavery along with the others. I have been tracking them trying to find out where he's gone. My last information was a ship's captain that frequented the routes between Magnimar and Korvosa. He should be due back in Magnimar early next year, and I'll be there to find him." Anger smoldered in the big Shoanti’s eyes. He found it difficult to look at everybody. "I think I've talked enough for one night. Words are starting to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Care to tell us a happier story, Tessa?"

“Not until Qakisst comes back from pouting in the woods.” Tessa stared into the darkness carefully watching the young ifrit shuffle back and forth just outside the light. “

“I am not pouting.” Qakisst drifted back to his seat by the fire at Tessa’s prompting, “I was just getting more wood.” Bloodshot eyes contradicted Qakisst’s comment as he slid a couple small logs onto the fire before cutting himself part of a slightly burnt rabbit. “No stalling on my account, Tessa.”

Tessa glanced sourly at Athos for a moment. His was such a worrisome story to follow up on! How was she expected to lighten the mood after something like that? She inhaled deeply before daring to resurrect the atmosphere. "Well," she paused heavily to resume a more chipper persona. "Here's something. Even though we had not met before, Kisst knows that I have had my fun whenever I am in Sandpoint, but I suppose the rest of you don't. It is a pretty funny story, I think at least. Do you guys know Nicu Kuza? I mean, obviously you do, Caleb, but- anyway, back on topic." Tessa floated onto her feet as she inhaled as though she intended this breath to carry her through the rest of the story as her words began to squish together into mush.

As she spoke, Tessa began to drift around the fire speaking as much with her hands as her words, "I will not be the one to judge what the Sczarni do; it is just their lifestyle after all, right? They like to prank the Gadjo a little bit; mostly for fun but also because they can. I lived in Sandpoint for a few years, I liked hanging around the beaches and docks- the salt breeze, right?”

“Wait, what? You know Nicu? You lived in Sandpoint? How long ago was that?” Qakisst quizzically examined Tessa while chewing slightly overcooked rabbit.

“Don’t interrupt, Junior or I will never get through this…” Tessa had not taken another breath yet, “Where was I? Oh yeah; I lived in Sandpoint for a few years, I liked hanging around the beaches and docks- the salt breeze, right? Maybe that is just a me thing, I don't know, but Nicu worked the docks or shadowed them, or whatever, he was there a lot too; and we started getting into a pick-pocket war.”

Caleb laughed while pointing at Qakisst, “Yeah, that sounds like your pal Nicu.”

Tessa did not even pause, “Because you know, that is what they do and I guess I looked like a decently well off person. Which you know, is actually kind of flattering, I suppose- right, anyway. Once he stole one of my fancy skin pens; like, the really nice kind, okay, so this is important; and the next day I would take it back, and I guess it turned into a game; since we would go back and forth like that. Well, he got his friends in on it, so I had like four people or whatever with eyes all on my pockets; and I am no gang member, alright? I don't have a posse; as cool as that would be, wouldn’t that be so cool?”

“Take a breath Tessa, before I pass out watching you.” Athos looked slightly breathless and Laranys seemed almost dizzy following the tattooed Tessa about the fire.

Tessa continued without breath or interruption, “So it started to become work for me and well, I had this great plan, and it took a few weeks because my crap kept disappearing, so I had to work up the money; and by the way, ugh to manual labor. I don't know how you guys do it, but I set up a net in one of the alleys behind the Pixie's Kitten, cause you know how often the Sczarni visit that place.”

“Hey! Nicu never told me he was hanging at the Kitten when he would miss card nights.” Qakisst sat upright with some indignation which caused Laranys to shush him.

“Nicu does not tell you a lot of things, Kisst.” Caleb leaned back and stretched out as Tessa hopped over his feet undeterred in her story.

“The net hung from those weird hook things on the roof- what are they called? Who cares. So I set up the net, and the next day I make sure two of his friends, and I still don't know their names, actually, knew where I was going, since I had taken Nicu's coin pouch that day- anyway, they follow me down this alley; they weren't very stealthy, to be honest, awful rogues; and I caught all of them with the net. I didn't expect it to work that well, I'm pretty sure there were tears of joy- so I stole all their stuff, and later that night I left a note in Nicu's pocket telling him where they were- and then I hid out in the Fatman's Feedbag for a few days, because no one would have expected little ol' me to be there, right? Look, it was a while ago, I looked a bit different. Anyway, I was hiding out in the Feedbag, which makes this even more hilarious, because the Feedbag is where those guys hang out all the time! I even saw them there a few times; let's just say I am super good at disguises. Tattoos and make up are pretty similar, after all."

By this point in the story, Tessa had strolled around the entire campsite, occasionally jumping to and fro to pantomime scenes or speak with her hands. "So, after a week or so, I don't remember exactly, I left all the stuff I took in some crate out on the docks; somewhere it would be found fairly quickly, and I rigged it with a little bomb, sort of, so after Nicu and his friends opened it, it popped some fireworks into his face with a little note that said 'hands off the pockets'. And let me tell you; watching him open it was pretty priceless. I guess I left enough of an impression on them now that whenever I see his Sczarni friends, they will back up when I glare at them. It's pretty great actually, I'll show you guys next time we're back there, okay?”

Caleb leaned over close to Qakisst as Tessa flitted about, “Do you think she realizes that Nicu likes her?” Qakisst looked at him thoughtfully and shook his head.

"I hope that was happy enough for you, Athos, 'cause I'm done. Who's next? Am I supposed to call on someone? And where's the water canteen?" Tessa finally took another breath, seemingly effortless, but with enough force to wilt the campfire vaguely in her direction. "Aren't these rations supposed to come with water? Oh, right. Who hasn't told a story yet?"

Athos took a deep breath catching up with Tessa’s story, “Laranys, Qakisst, and Konnor.”

“Kisst it is then.” Tessa drifted down to lay in the grass next to Qakisst, “Tell us a story, Junior.”

“So you’re next, Cousin. I finally get my revenge by making you tell a story this the evening.” Caleb grinned at Qakisst, “Why don’ you tell us how you got that…” Qakisst cut him off quickly.

“Nope. There has been too much talk of giants and bloodshed.” Qakisst looked away into the darkness.

“Now just a minute.”

“No, you do not get to pick my story. You did not have to tell about how you met Lady Andosana; but I knew your ego would not let you pass up the chance.” Qakisst grinned back at Caleb. Caleb glared back at him.

“And now I have heard it 47 times this month.” Tessa lay with her feet propped up on one of the logs that they had pulled up to sit upon.

“Shush, you!” Caleb’s glare turned to Tessa across the fire.

“Hey Athos, when we first met you called me, ‘The famous cousin Kisst.’” Qakisst turned to the big Shoanti mercenary with a raised eyebrow. “What did you mean famous? I am not exactly a grizzled old traveler.”

Athos looked at Tessa, “He doesn’ know?”

“Of course he does not know.” Tessa stared up into the night sky. “It is all in good fun really.”

“Know what?” Qakisst looked back and forth between the two.

Tessa stared up into the stars, “I did not see the point in telling him. He would just be offended.”

“This should be good.” Caleb sat up against the log he was leaning against and smiled.

“Offended? Tell me what?” Qakisst grew more agitated; feeling like he was being pranked. “You want a story out of me you are going to have to tell me why Athos had heard of me before we met.”

“Well, none of the Varisi want to be rude to you, Junior. We all like you; even when we have not met you yet.” Tessa looked straight into Qakisst’s eyes. “Have you never wondered how every Varisi coming through Sandpoint knows you? Every single one?”

“I just thought I had, you know, met them when I was younger. I met a lot of people traveling caravan with mamma Liandra, and so many people come through Sandpoint that I cannot possibly remember everybody I meet; but I am kind of hard to forget.” Qakisst tapped the eight inch bull horns extending from his brow.

“You had never met me, but I knew exactly who you were the first time I saw you when we passed each other at the Swallowtail Festival.” Tessa felt bad about spilling the secret, “You have your very own game.”

“My own what?” Qakisst sat up and stared in confusion at Tessa.

Athos laughed, “When I was first told your name, Qakisst, I couldn’ believe it. I had thought the game was just to make up the most outrageous but believable story possible. I didn’ know that there was a real cousin Kisst.”

“Wait; people make up stories about meeting Qakisst?” Laranys shook her head in puzzlement, “I do not get it.”

“What is so special about meeting him?” Konnor nodded across the fire at Qakisst.

“I don’ know. I thought the Varisi were just making up stories when they would come through my village.” Athos shrugged, “I honestly thought it was just a game of tall tales. How does it start? ‘We all know…’ Oh I can’t remember.”

Tessa smiled, “It is a game about tall tales, but the fun part is finding the real stories in all the fiction.” Caleb just grinned sitting on the other side of the fire by Konnor as Tessa sat up, “Somebody issues the challenge like this…” then rose to her feet, “How did I meet cousin Kisst? First, as we all know, four people win automatically. Benjamin, Beshkee, Dortitian, Qakisst; do we have a winner?” Tessa then applauded to Qakisst, “The winner is, Qakisst!” The group applauded together as Qakisst crossed his arms with indignation. “Anyway, if there are no automatic winners each person tells the wildest story they can come up with about how they met cousin Kisst. Whoever can convince the most people of the truth in their story wins.”

“Kind of rude.” Qakisst looked around the group feeling rather small.

“Who are Benjamin, Beshkee, and Dortitian? I always wondered why four names at the beginning.” Athos looked about the camp while Qakisst pouted from his seat by the fire.

“They are Liandra’s other adopted sons.” Tessa answered Athos.

“I thought you knew, Kisst.” Caleb watched the young ifrit closely. “You used to go out on caravans with your Mom over the summer.”

“No!” There was a bit of anger in Qakisst’s eyes, but more a sense of hurt. “Wait? You knew?” Caleb shrank away at the accusation.

Tessa dropped down into the grass next to him, “Hey Junior, you are not thinking about this the right way.” She turned Qakisst’s chin with a finger to look him in the eye, “All of the Varisi want everybody else to believe that they know you; because if you are friends with Cousin Kisst, you cannot be a bad person.”

“Oh that makes me feel soo much better. I am back to being everyone’s alibi.” Qakisst looked up at Tessa with a halfhearted smile.

Athos looked over at Qakisst, “So how did you become every Varisi’s favorite cousin, Q?”

“Hey, that’s a good point.” Caleb leaned forward to pull another chunk of rabbit from a spit, “Why do all the Varisi call you cousin? I’ve always known you as Cousin Kisst, but I have never heard that story.”

Qakisst smiled, “Heh, yeah, I can tell that story. Do you remember Syeira Previ?” he looked at Caleb knowingly. “She was likely one of the people that got caught in Tessa’s net.”

“Yeah,” Caleb pointed his dagger, rabbit still skewered upon it, “She travels with the caravan that goes all the way out past the River Kingdoms to Galt now, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” The boyish smile everybody had grown accustomed to came back as Qakisst thought about his youth traveling with a caravan. “So she was like 10 or so at the time; and had decided that she was going to personally take over properly educating me on how to be a good Varisi. Mamma Liandra was mortified; but for about a year Syeira and I were inseparable. She would try to teach me to sneak around through the caravan, going under and over the wagons, but I kept doing things like catching a horn on the underside of the running board, or slipping off the hand grips along the top. I am pretty sure I broke my arm twice. Well one day she pulled me into the bushes outside camp.”

“This is not one of those first kiss stories, or something, is it?” Tessa rolled her eyes at Qakisst.

“Shush, you.” Caleb barked at Tessa.

“Okay, okay. I just don’t need to hear about Qakisst making out in the bushes.”

“You are a terrible person, Tessa.” Qakisst glared at the eccentric tattooed artist. “Anyway, Syeira drags me into the bushes…”

“Here we go again.”

“TESSA!” The entire group barked at Tessa, just outside the camp a wolf howled.

“See, you’ve even upset the wolf.” Laranys pointed into the darkness. “Now shush.”

“ANYway, Syeira drags me into the bushes and tells me that she is going to teach me how to be a proper Varisi.” Tessa went to interrupt again, but Laranys clasped a hand over her mouth to shush her while Qakisst continued, “She was going to teach me how to lift a dagger off of somebody in a crowded market.”

“Wait, you can pick pockets?” Konnor cocked his head as he looked at Qakisst.

“Not hardly.” Qakisst shook his head. “Never could learn it. People notice me too easily and most just assume I am a tiefling; who they look down on as no good thieves and liars through no fault of their own.” Tessa snorted as Qakisst continued. “We were camped outside Baslwief that week. It was early in the week and Syeira spent all week making me practice, practice, practice. She even had a couple of the other kids helping me. As Tessa pointed out earlier; the Sczarni clan is notorious for their love of pranking the Gadjo, and lightening a few purses along the way.”

“Especially your friend Nicu.” Caleb rolled his eyes even as he spoke the name.

“Hey, Nicu is okay. He just gets a bit carried away when it comes to the Gadjo.” Qakisst waved his arms expressively as he defended Nicu, “Plus he plays a good game of Harrows. If he were here we would have a Harrow deck and not be telling stories.” Qakisst mimed shuffling cards as he continued, “So we are camped outside Baslwief for most of a week and on market day Syeira decides that I am ready. Now, I was not supposed to go into town without Mamma Liandra; especially on market day. Too many Gadjo get freaked out if they think there are planes-touched about. Even aasimar attract too much attention and cause trouble just by going to market. Me, with horns like the devil god himself, I was a trouble magnet come market day.”

“So Syeira and I snuck out of camp in late morning. She said it helps to have enough of a crowd that one person does not stand out too much. Yeah, you can all quit laughing; I was just a kid.” Despite his admonition the group chuckled. Even Master Sorn, off by herself just outside the camp chuckled. “Anyway, at first we got a few looks, but after a while there was just too much going on and nobody was bothering to watch two kids in bright Varisi clothes. Syeira picked a mark. A man sleeping behind a stand of fresh apples under an awning he had set up in the market square. So I carefully perused along the other stands until I could get to the apple stand. Nobody was paying much attention to the apple stand because apples will wait while you find other things that might spoil first. So I slipped quietly between the stands and slipped up next to the sleeping apple seller. I carefully popped the snap on his dagger sheath and my horn caught on a hanging gourd above me that was full of water.”

“Oh no!” Laranys gasped and covered her mouth as Tessa snickered.

“Oh yeah.” Qakisst smirked as he held his hand over his head like he was tipping the gourd in the story, “Water poured out all over me, and splattered all over the apple seller who snorted and woke up looking at me standing just above him holding a dagger like this.” Qakisst leaned forward and grinned lopsidedly with his dagger in hand. “The guy freaked out. Do not ask me why, but he did. He kicked out and the cart of apples tipped up and spilled all out into the market as he grabbed me by the horn screaming like he has seen death itself come for him.”

“I wonder what gave him that impression.” Konnor snorted as he said it.

“Well the apple cart did not just tip over. It knocked the leg out from under a cart of pears right next to it, and people were starting to scream and scatter. I look up at the guy that is trying to pick me up by one horn and said, ‘Please sir, you dropped this’ just like Syeira had taught me to do if I was caught; except I think I said it in Ignan like this…” Qakisst cleared his throat a moment before speaking, “Efendim, bu düştü lütfen.” The party rolled onto the ground laughing hysterically. Qakisst smiled broadly as he spoke, “I have a bad habit of doing that when I am nervous. So this guy was trying to pick me up by the horn, I was starting to panic now, fruit carts were falling over like a house of Harrow cards when Syeira dove over what was left of this guy’s stand and slammed into him right in the mid-section making him drop me. The three of us fell to the ground with a thud and Syeira grabbed my arm yelling for us to run.”

Konnor and Athos fought back tears as they laughed uncontrollably while Qakisst jumped to his feet and mimed running off, “We were in the back end of Market Square in Baslwief, and if you have ever been to Baslwief you know that they built their market into a cul-de-sac next to the river. One way in and one way out, unless you go by boat, so we were plowing through the confused and by now quite panicked crowd. I swear that every cart had been toppled and some of the store fronts with built in stands had lost their wares into the street. I would still feel really bad about it too; except that by the time we made it across the market the traditional mob had started to form up to chase us out of town.”

The laughter was contagious and Qakisst had to pause to calm his own laughter before he could continue, “Well we did not take the left turn out of town back to the caravan. No sir. Syeira grabbed my hand and drug us up the road to the right and out the gate before they could shut it. We ran until we could not see the town and wound up spending three days hiding in a haystack eating pocket pies and apples that Syeira had stuffed into a bag while I had been busy bringing market day to a close.” Qakisst settled back onto one of the logs they had been using as a bench.

“When the caravan finally found us three days later Mamma Liandra was apoplectic. She and Syeira’s father screamed at Syeira; ranting and raving about her nearly getting me killed until I finally got one of them to look at me. I told them it was all my fault. That I had snuck into town to see the market and accidently knocked over the apple cart when I bent over to pick up a dagger that the apple seller had dropped. I insisted that Syeira had nothing to do with it because I was terrified that she would never want to be my friend after I had screwed up something as simple as lifting a dagger.”

Qakisst looked over his shoulder to the east, “Well I was grounded for the rest of my considerable life by Mother. Syeira was grounded for a week. But after a week Momma Liandra could not stand keeping me locked up in the wagon so I was released on bail while we were camped out along the road. I went out to see what the other kids were doing and one of them made a less than complimentary comment about me being a useless Gadjo when I walked up. Syeira beat the crap out of him and told him never ever say that about Cousin Kisst again.” The party looked at Qakisst, their eyes filled with tears of laughter.

“And that is how I met Cousin Kisst.” Renewed laughter erupted into the starry night around the camp. Qakisst grinned a bigger than life grin as the laughter died down. “Well, that just leaves Laranys and Konnor. I say ladies first, m’Lady. What brought you half way around the world to Varisia?”

Laranys sighed, "I have to follow that? Well; the short version is I came here from Absalom looking for my father. All I know is he came to Varisia."

"Your father went halfway around the world and you start looking in Sandpoint? Poor guy is as good as lost." quipped Konnor.

“Not funny, Konnor. Now shush.” Tessa kicked her feet up onto the log next to Laranys as she lay back on the grass.

"Actually he is not technically my father, but he raised me." Looking a little flustered, Laranys continued, "Well, I guess I'll have to start at the beginning to make sense of it all."

“Do not worry about it, Laranys. Adoption is common enough.” Qakisst smiled at her as he sipped from his water flask while sitting back down against one of the logs. “Father Tobyn had an adopted daughter, and Turandarok works hard to get children adopted.”

"Take your time, there's not much else going on tonight. We have plenty of time." encouraged Caleb.

"I grew up an orphan at the Temple of the Shining Star in the Ascendant Court of Absalom. It is the largest temple of Sarenrae north of Katheer.” Qakisst sat up straight as Laranys mentioned the grand temple. “Father Iannan Gallantara took it upon himself to watch over me as a young child, giving me his name as my own. He was already a grown man in his 40s and never had a family of his own. Oh, there were rumors about him and Sister Darerris. But in the many years I've known them; I have never seen any romantic interactions between them. Those two are the only parents I ever knew, and they look on me as their daughter."

"I must have tried their patience as a child as I could never stay focused on one topic. The library at the temple is massive and I loved to be surrounded by all those books and scrolls. I was very inquisitive and my study of various histories and religions led to Iannan having to steer me back to the topic of the day more often than not. As I grew older, I was taught the ways of our Order while I studied as an acolyte."

"I hope you did not spend all of your time studying your goddess and other religions? That would get soo boring... I hope you got to have a little fun sometime" interjected Tessa with a smirk.

With a bit of nostalgic look Laranys answered, "There was a time Darerris thought I might try to volunteer for the Paladins of the Dawnflower. But she discovered it was just a crush I had on, Alarik, one of the trainers. No, wait... now is not the time for that story."

"No, go on! You were just getting to the good part." said Tessa, clearly paying attention.

“So you didn’ want to hear kissing stories from Cousin Kisst, but you want to hear them from Laranys?” Caleb grinned at Tessa, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Ask me later, Tessa." Laranys responded with a wink and Tessa went back to looking distracted. "After I took my vows as a Cleric of Sarenrae, I was assigned to stay on at the Temple of the Shining Star. I was overjoyed that Sarenrae had kept me there with my parents.” Laranys gazed into the night sky and smiled. “While they had most of their time taken up in the administration of running the large temple, I was to work with Ser Olytrius in dealing with the many disagreements between the Houses. Many Noble Houses call Absalom home and representatives of the various faiths were often called upon to mediate between them. Ser Olytrius was one of Sarenrae's representatives."

Athos tipped his head back and made a snoozing sound. Tessa giggled softly as Qakisst kicked both of them, “Shush.”

"Many times did I sit with him during meetings of the Chamber of Ecclesials. We would hear the various claims before our nomarch, Sidoi of the Thousand Poems, as the Houses maneuvered pieces in the ‘shadow war’ that constantly goes on right beneath the surface of Absalom politics. I learned much from Ser Olytrius about which Houses were up to what different political games."

“Politics. Uhgg.” Qakisst frowned. “I hate politics.”

“Oh yes, a Varisi raised child living in Sandpoint deals with politics sooo much.” Tessa glowered back at Qakisst.

"Well,” Laranys shook her head at both of them, “I likely would have continued on and later taken over for Ser Olytrius, but Sarenrae had a different path for me. My father had always had a fascination with ancient times when the Azlanti people had lived. One day, I overheard him and Darerris arguing about it. He said he needed to go and investigate an ancient Thassilonian site. The head of our temple, Xerashir of House Sahmyyid, Bey of Sarenrae, had turned down his request to go on an expedition. Darerris sided with Xerashir and it was clear Iannan was upset. I was about to go into the room and ask them what this was about when a messenger arrived from Ser Olytrius about a meeting that required my attendance."

"I was stuck in that meeting until well into the evening. When I came back to check on him the next morning, Iannan was gone. His desk had been cleaned out. He left Darerris a note asking her to take care of the things in his absence, but it contained no explanation of his whereabouts, or when he might return. When I mentioned the conversation I heard just before Iannan disappeared, she begged me not to tell anyone else. She was convinced he had gone against the command of Xerashir. She didn't know where he had gone, only that it was somewhere in the wilderness of Varisia, along the Lost Coast.”

“We must all go as the Goddess commands.” Qakisst smiled.

Laranys ignored Qakisst and continued, “She said to me, 'Laranys, I am too old to go on a trip like this, you must go and bring him home safely.' With that, she pressed 50 Sphinx into my hand and told me she would make excuses for me at the temple."

"Sphinx?" Athos looked confused.

“Wish I had had 50 Sphinx crossing from Taldor to Varisia.” Qakisst leaned back against the log he had been sitting in front of.

"That is just what we call the platinum pieces minted in Absalom.” Laranys smiled at Athos while ignoring Qakisst. “I left the Temple of the Shining Star that day to head to the Docks District. It took me three days to arrange passage to Magnimar and ready myself for my first trip outside of the great city. The voyage to Magnimar was long, but uneventful. After weeks of searching in Magnimar and finding no sign of Iannan, I headed north along the coast to continue my search. I reached Sandpoint the day before the festival. And you know what has happened since."

"With all the Thassilonian ruins I have heard of here in Varisia, I am not sure how long it will take me to find my father. My thanks are all of yours for accompanying me to find the source of this goblin threat. The sooner we are done with this, the sooner I can continue my mission."

“I don’ understand why you feel obligated to chase goblins with us when you have your father to find.” Caleb tossed the last bones from one of the rabbits into the brush behind him. Instantly a soft crunching sound could be heard from the brush.

“Safety, silly.” Tessa smirked at Caleb. “She cannot go traipsing around the wilds alone if there are rampaging goblins running everywhere.

“You do not have to worry about that, Laranys. We can help.” Qakisst struggled to restrain a yawn as he spoke.

“Hey, don’t speak for everybody.” Athos looked startled at Qakisst.

“You’re not going anyplace till Spring, Athos. That’s when your ship comes back to Magnimar, right?” Caleb pointed at Athos, “You’re too good a guy to leave the lady traipsing about the woods on her own.

“Heh, yeah you’re right.” Athos grinned as he put his hands behind his head.

“I thank you all, but that will not really be necessary.” Laranys blushed as she looked to the side.

“We know you would never ask for help, but please. Nobody buys the gracious refusal.” Tessa leaned into Laranys with a smile, “If you are going to be searching Varisia looking for anybody, you need a pack of misfit Varisi and Shoanti vagabonds to help you turn over the monuments. And a mask wearing elf boy too, I guess.” Tessa gazed intently at Laranys as the young Dawnflower cleric leaned away looking at her. “Have you ever considered a Dawnflower symbol tattoo around your right eye? It would look fantastic.”

“Uhmm...”

“Well I’m uncomfortable now.” Konnor laughed as he spoke.

Six voices rang out as one, “Your turn, Konnor!”

“Uh,” Konnor looked over his shoulder at the small tent where Sister Sabyl had supposedly gone to sleep, “I got nothing really.”

“No welching on us, Konnor. What’s buried in the masked man’s past?” Caleb watched Konnor closely.

“Yeah, it does not have to be personal. Just a little bit about you.” Qakisst tipped up his water flask and drained the last of it.

“How can it not be personal if it’s about me?” Konnor rolled his eyes at Qakisst. “Okay, okay; don’t riot on me. To be honest I got nothing.” Konnor sat across the fire from Caleb staring out towards the farm house near the road. “I haven’t led some grand life of adventure like you and Qakisst, and I don’t come from a devastated village like Athos. If you want the truth, my parents suggested Sandpoint when I decided to strike out on my own. I did small jobs helping Master Quink with copying and translating to get by, but mostly kept to myself. I just happened to be in the right place to have some fun when things went bad during the Swallowtail Festival.”

“Oh sweet Desna, you are worse than Caleb.” Tessa pushed her feet into Qakisst’s lap as she lay back in the grass.

“Hey!” Qakisst scooted farther from Tessa to be away from her bare feet.

“Do you actually expect us to believe you are wearing that ridiculous mask but have no good stories to tell? Are you that much of a wannabe adventurer?” Tessa stretched her feet up into the air as she spoke.

“Tessa makes a good point, Konnor.” Caleb tossed the bare bones from the last of the rabbit into the woods behind him. “You’ve been hanging around Sandpoint for the last couple years and I’m not sure anybody in town knows what you look like; or even knows your last name.” Within moments the soft sound of crunching came from behind Caleb.

“I have my reasons.” Konnor’s voice was smooth and indifferent to his detractors as he looked out into the darkness. “Does that wolf really follow you everywhere?”

“No changing the subject, Mystery Boy.” Tessa flicked colored smoke powder into the fire creating a red puff of smoke. “Why the mask?”

“Yeah, were you burned by acid or something? Or maybe you are just ugly?” Athos smirked as he stretched then yawned.

“Oh no. It's just that they're terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.” Konnor’s flippant attitude annoyed Qakisst.

“You’re a laugh riot, Konnor.” Caleb shook his head as he spoke.

“It really isn’t any big deal.” Konnor leaned back against a log as he spoke. “Look, my parents are a bit more well-known than I’m comfortable with. They aren’t super famous like kings and queens or anything crazy like that.” He craned his head back to look up to the stars, “They’re just well enough known that people who know them recognize me. I would like to get my start in life making my own name and not riding on theirs.”

“I guess that makes some sense.” Laranys smiled and stretched. “It can be very difficult living under somebody else’s reputation.

“Oh pooh.” A burst of sparks erupted from the fire as Tessa flipped small bits of chemistry into the fire. “How many Shoanti born half-elves do you think there are around here? I’ve traveled all of Varisia and not heard of any famous Shoanti nobles with an elven spouse. Something like that would stand out just a bit. The same for traveling bards or adventurers.”

“I didn’t say that they were famous or nobles; just well-known enough that people who know my parents will recognize me. I haven’t done much in my life yet; but I want my reputation to be mine and mine only.”

“To each their own.” Qakisst moved across the fire from Tessa to escape her wandering feet. “You are still weird, Konnor.”

“Whatever; Sandpoint is on the edge of nowhere. People come here to start over. Only if you are from a noble born Chelish family does anybody care one way or the other; unless you are a wanted man.” Tessa shifted to her knees directly in front of Konnor so she could look him in the eyes, despite his mask. “Are you a wanted man, Konnor?”

“Of course I am, Tessa. All the eligible young ladies want me.” Konnor leaned back against a log with his head tipped back and arms stretched out. “Who wouldn’t want such perfection?”

“Anybody with a modicum of dignity, Mystery Boy.” Tessa floated to her feet and looked down into the eye slits of Konnor’s mask. His eyes were closed. “Are you a run away? Trying to avoid your parents finding you and dragging you back to some horrible arranged marriage?”

Konnor’s right eye flicked open behind his mask, “You’re weird, Tessa. And you’re breathing on me.”

“Let it be, Tessa.” Caleb pulled his cloak about himself and leaned back into the grass. “If Mystery Boy there doesn’ want to tell us anything about himself, so be it. He’s held his own so far.” Caleb paused only a moment, “So who has first watch?”

“I do.” Athos leaned on one of the logs as he rose to his feet. “I’d better walk the perimeter real quick. Your wolf friend isn’t going to give me any trouble, is he Caleb?” While Athos moved out to check on their perimeter Tessa continued to closely examine Konnor’s mask.

“Nah. He actually keeps us safer since few things want to come poking around with a large predator nearby.” Caleb replied sleepily. “Hey, firelord, bank the fire so we don’t burn down the Nettles or something.”

“Quiet you; or I will use your scimitar to do it.” Qakisst stirred the coals in the fire and covered most of the still burning embers with ash from the bottom of the fire pit they had dug at the beginning of the evening.

“That’s okay. You’ll sharpen it too.” Caleb pulled his hood up, “Early morning coming. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Go away Tessa. I’m going to sleep too.” Konnor turned away and curled up in his blanket.

“This is not over, Mystery Boy.” Tessa smiled down at Konnor before drifting off to her own bed-roll.

“I guess that is the night then.” Laranys stretched again and pulled her bed-roll out. “It seems strange sleeping under the stars to me.”

“You get used to it quickly enough.” Qakisst lay out on his cloak staring up into the moonlit night. “Do it long enough and you might find that you like it. Soon you will be sneaking out into the woods each night like Caleb does.” Caleb snorted as Qakisst looked back over his shoulder into the night. “Hey Athos, wake me when the Hunter reaches its highest point and I will take the middle watch.”

“Sure thing, Q.” Athos’ voice came out of the darkness.

“The Hunter?” Laranys looked from Qakisst into the darkness where Athos’ voice had sounded.
“Yes. Look up there.” Qakisst pointed into the night sky to the east. “That group of stars just over the pines there. That is the Hunter’s Bow. Within the half hour, the Hunter herself will cross above the horizon.”

“Oh, it’s a Varisi constellation in the stars.” Laranys looked out into the night sky following Qakisst’s outstretched hand. “We call that one the Great Fisherman.”

“Exactly. That one is the Hunter’s Bow. There is the Winter Witch. Those are the Twins in that group of bright stars.” Qakisst pointed from one spot in the night sky to another. “Enjoy the view. You never get to see this sleeping inside an inn.” Silence engulfed the night as Athos watched over them listening to the darkness.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: Drinking with Shalelu:

The next day brought them back to Sandpoint shortly after midday and Caleb noticed that the wolf was no longer shadowing him. “Just as well,” he thought, “no need to scare anyone in town.” He promised to meet the rest for dinner at the Dragon before slipping off to his parents’ house to see the family. His father, Kale Deverin, was the mayor’s brother, but preferred the simple life of a furniture maker. He would no doubt have another lecture for Caleb on being safe while off in the woods. At least it would be nice to see his siblings Cassidy and Conner.

Fortunately, Father was off on a delivery when Caleb made it to the house so Caleb escaped the lecture. His mother Cassandra was more supportive of his decisions, but only to a point. She had grown up a traveling Varisi before meeting Kale and settling in Sandpoint. Caleb kept the details vague as he told his mother and siblings about his trip to Windsong Abbey and back, focusing more on describing the Monastery and skipping the attempted ambush on the way back. He knew his family still did not understand his decision to leave the furniture making business, but his soul drew him to the wilderness. He also knew better than to worry his mother with stories of him fighting monsters.

“I’ll see you all later. I need to swing by Vinder’s Store to pick up some supplies. I’m having dinner at the Dragon. Give Father my love.” His mother tousled his brown hair and muttered a Varisi curse that loosely translated as “One day, I hope you have one just like you”.

With that, Caleb set out for the Sandpoint General store. After a quick restock of trail necessities, Caleb decided to head to the Garrison to check in with Sheriff Hemlock on the investigation into the attack. As he headed up Main Street the smell coming from Sandpoint Savories drew him in. As much as he loved being on the road, he was not one to turn down a sweet cake when the opportunity presented itself.

“Good day, Aneka. The bakery smells wonderful today.” He greeted one of the Avertin twin sisters with a smile.

“Good day to you as well, Caleb. You always did have a sweet tooth.” Aneka smiled back at the young ranger. “Are you grabbing something before you and Shalelu head back out to the woods?”

“Shalelu? I haven’ seen her in a month. I’m just returning from a trip up the coast to Windsong Abbey.” The mention of his mentor caught Caleb off-guard, as she was not due back in Sandpoint for a couple weeks.

“You haven’t heard? She turned up this morning and made right for the Garrison.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Aneka. I should head that way then. Give your mom and sister my best.” Caleb traded her the three coppers for the sweet cake and rushed off towards the garrison.

Caleb found Pavo Korbit sitting at the main desk in the garrison looking bored. Pavo was no longer wearing a sling from his injury during the goblin attack during the Swallowtail festival and was probably getting tired of desk duty while he recovered. “Hey Caleb; good timing. You just missed Shalelu and the sheriff. They headed to the mayor’s office not 10 minutes ago; and the sheriff asked me to have you guys rounded up. You saved me the trouble of hunting you down. I already sent a messenger to Savah’s to find Kisst and another to the Dragon looking for the rest of you.”

“Thanks, Pavo. I’ll head over there. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, but the boss looked serious. You better get over there.” Pavo motioned toward the door as he shrugged.

A quick jog across the street to the Town Hall later and Caleb found he was the first of his companions to arrive. “There you are, Caleb. I’m glad you’ve made it back to us safely again.” His Aunt Kendra greeted him warmly with a quick hug.

“I am glad to see you again my apprentice. I only wish it was under happier circumstances.” The elven woman Shalelu grasped his forearm.

“And I you, my teacher. What news do you have that brings you to town so soon?” Caleb returned the handshake. He was concerned that Shalelu looked more road-weary than normal.

“There’s no sense in telling it more than once, Caleb. We’ll wait for the rest of your companions to arrive.” Even as Shalelu spoke, Caleb noted that Pavo had been right. Sheriff hemlock did indeed look serious.

Qakisst arrived first, still smelling of the forge. “Hey Caleb; what is going on?”

“I’m not sure, but we’re to wait for the others. Are you alright? You look upset."

“Just annoyed.” Qakisst drifted into the Varisi language while talking to Caleb. “I am working on a new haft for my spear. All metal; but the balance is giving me fits and the weight is an issue. I am afraid I might need to make an entirely new spear from scratch.”

“Why in Avistan would you want a solid metal haft?” Caleb looked through squinted eyes with disbelief at his friend.

Qakisst pulled his boot dagger out, gripped the metal blade and squinted at it. The blade grew red hot in his fingers. “Cause wood does not conduct heat very well.”

“Wow, if you can do that in a fight; I don’ know why you would keep that old spear head around.” Qakisst was about to respond when Caleb cut him off, “Wait, there are the others. You can tell me later. Let’s find out what this is all about.”

After everyone got settled into the office, Sheriff Hemlock addressed the group. “Some of you already know her, but I’d like to introduce Shalelu Andosana, an unofficial member of Sandpoint’s town guard.” Caleb caught the smirk in Shalelu’s eyes as the sheriff continued. “Shalelu has been a thorn in the side of the local goblin tribes for years and few in the region know more about them than her. Shalelu, allow me to introduce Sandpoint’s newest crop of goblin slayers.”

Caleb smiled at Shalelu as she began to slowly pace the floor while speaking, “Belor told me of your work against the goblins in the recent attack, well done. I’ve dedicated the last several years to keeping them from causing too much trouble around these parts, but they’re tenacious and fecund little runts. Like weeds that bite.” While Shalelu disliked speaking to crowds, her passion against goblins allowed her to open up as she spoke.

Caleb snickered at Shalelu’s description of goblins as she continued, “Unfortunately, the attack on Sandpoint isn’t the only goblin trouble in the area. There’s been an increase in goblin-related raids all along the Lost Coast, particularly in the area between Nettlewood and Mosswood. Only yesterday, a farm south of Mosswood was burnt to the ground by a group of goblins. Thankfully, I was nearby to drive off the goblins and save the family. They’re staying at a nearby farm for now, but this goblin problem is not going away.”

“There are five major goblins tribes in the region, and, traditionally, they’re pretty good at keeping each other in line with intertribal squabbles and the like. Yet from what I’ve been able to piece together, members of all five tribes were involved in the raid on Sandpoint. A fair number of the Mosswood goblins I dealt with yesterday were already pretty beat up, and there was a lot of chatter about the ‘longshanks’ who killed so many of them. I recognized Caleb from their descriptions, and now that I’ve met the rest of you, it’s obvious you are who they were talking about. Seems like you’ve made an impression.”

“In any event, the fact that the five tribes are working together disturbs me. Goblin tribes don’t get along unless they’ve got something big planned, and big plans require big bosses. I’m afraid that something’s moved in on the goblins and organized them. Judging by the recent raids, what they’re organizing seems like bad news for all of us.” Shalelu came to a stop both physically and verbally.

The silence punctuated the gravity of the situation. This news was even worse than what Caleb had feared. He had identified multiple tribes in the bodies of the goblins killed at Sandpoint, but the revelation of increased activity elsewhere was unsettling.

Sheriff Hemlock disturbed Caleb’s thoughts. “After discussing this situation with Mayor Deverin, I have decided that this threat is growing too great. With her approval; I will take a contingent of guardsmen and leave in the morning for Magnimar to request reinforcements. If the Lord Mayor doesn’t grant us extra troops as a protected vassal, I will attempt to hire mercenary soldiers to enhance Sandpoint’s defenses for the foreseeable future. Shalelu, if you would sniff around Skankswood, Devil’s Platter, Brinestump, and other places the goblins live to see if you can discover anything else, I’d appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, Belor.” Shalelu looked at Caleb with a smile that said, ‘Like I wouldn’t do that anyway.’

“Belor, I think it would be a good idea to deputize these young folks. The town seems to have taken a liking to them.” Caleb could not believe the words that came from his aunt’s mouth.

“Good idea, seeing them around town will do a lot to keep worries down while I’m gone.” Sheriff Hemlock distributed small badges to each of the group. While being deputized did not really give the sextet any authority; but it did place them on a level with Sandpoint’s junior guard captain, and answerable only to Sheriff Hemlock or the mayor.

“Caleb, if you and your new friends would join me for dinner tonight at Ameiko’s place, I would like to get to know you all better.” After a quick agreement Shalelu left the office to make preparations for her return to the hinterlands.

Athos practically beamed with pride while Qakisst and Caleb held the small metal badges they had been handed with dread. Laranys tucked her badge away indifferently as clerics commonly held a certain level of authority due to their divine connection.

“This is horrible jewelry. I think I will just tuck it away in here for now.” Tessa strolled out of the mayor’s office as she tucked the small badge into her coin pouch. Caleb smiled as he knew the idea of a wandering Varisi being responsible for the lives of a Gadjo town was completely ridiculous to her.

As the sextet walked back out of the mayor’s office Caleb leaned over and whispered to Athos and Qakisst, “Did they give one of these to Konnor?” The impish half-elven rogue was now nowhere to be seen.

With Sheriff Hemlock departing for Magnimar, Caleb made an effort to be seen in town as he headed to the Rusty Dragon. The purely propaganda move offended him a little, but having grown up in the very politically astute Deverin family he understood the need. Kale Deverin may not have liked the political life his sister lived in, but he had still passed on the basic lessons of politics to his eldest son; and calm people cause fewer problems was an easy concept to grasp. So Caleb made sure to wave to everybody along the way, and generally made of himself what he thought was a silly spectacle. Still, he was looking forward to catching up with Shalelu and finding out the latest reports from the hinterlands.

Caleb entered the Rusty Dragon just after five bells to see Tessa at their customary table berating a young man to hold still as she worked over his arm with a tattoo nib covered in rich black inks. Caleb smirked at the sight and took his seat with his back in the corner. “You got back here fast, Tessa.”

“No time to dawdle. I have work, and this young man has dreams of impressing the young ladies; don’t you my pretty?” Tessa dove back into her work and her young customer grimaced as she jabbed ink into his skin with delicate grace and speed.

Caleb waved to one of the serving girls, who upon seeing him smiled broadly and dashed for the kitchen to fetch him a plate. The serving girls had learned not to worry about Caleb’s order. He was used to eating whatever he could catch in the field, and always ordered the house dish. While waiting for his food he saw Shalelu slip quietly into the inn and start for the back office.

Before Shalelu could cross the common room half a dozen people had stepped up to shake her hand. Caleb understood now why the attention embarrassed her. Like Shalelu, he felt that he was just doing his job; but the people of Sandpoint thought of them as heroes just like he had once thought of Shalelu as a hero. Well, he still thought of her as a hero; but he understood Shalelu’s discomfort.

“Hello, my friends!” Athos dropped heavily into the seat across from Tessa and shook the table.

“HEY! I’m working here!” Tessa glared at Athos, “This is the delicate part!”

“Sorry, Tessa. You could be doing that up in your room.” Athos leaned back into his chair.

“Let it go, Athos.” Caleb chucked as his food arrived. “Or she'll sneak in your room one night and give you a full body tattoo.” As Caleb teased Athos the waitress took his order then dashed for the kitchen again.

“You boys couldn’t afford a full body tattoo.” Tessa gave a thoughtful look as her hand continued moving with expert precision, “But I could give you a discount since we’re friends. We’ll talk a payment plan later.” She smiled at them both; then resumed repeatedly stabbing the young man’s arm.

“Good job Caleb. Now she expects us to pay for tattoos.” Athos made a funny face at him.

Laranys and Konnor joined the group shortly, with Qakisst being last to arrive. Once Qakisst had arrived Shalelu strode over, trying her best not to be mobbed by the thankful crowd, and took a seat at the head of the table. Lady Ameiko brought out a plate and mug for Shalelu, “For you my friend, some personal service.”

“You’re not fooling me, Ameiko. You just hope to pick up some new stories for your songs.” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to laugh at Shalelu’s comment. Ameiko had been an adventuring mercenary herself once upon a time, and still loved the tales of adventure as only a bard could.

The only thing funnier at the moment was the look of discomfort on Qakisst’s face as Ameiko leaned past him to set Shalelu’s plate on the table. Caleb had heard that cousin Kisst had a bit of a crush on the famous Dragon Lady; and this pretty much confirmed it. That probably explained why he always saw Qakisst slipping off alone after spending the evening dancing. Having a crush on Ameiko Kaijitsu, the Dragon Lady of Sandpoint, set one hell of a high standard.

"Now my apprentice, introduce me to these new companions of yours." Shalelu motioned around the table.

Caleb promptly started with the introductions. "This is Laranys, a cleric of Sarenrae from distant Absalom. You’ve no doubt heard of our local sorcerer, Qakisst. The Lady Tessa that travels with the caravans is a master of the alchemical arts. Athos here is a Shoanti warrior traveling south to Magnimar. And finally, our sneaky friend Konnor is seeking adventure from behind his mask.”

“Looking for adventure, maybe. Looking for another ale, for sure!” Konnor finished off his current drink and waved for another.

“Now that we're acquainted, how about you show me how much you learned over the last few years and tell us all about the goblin tribes in the surrounding region.” Shalelu’s request brought Caleb back to the topic at hand. He shoveled another bite of his food away before looking around the table.

“Well then, I guess I will start with the tribes closest to the city. That would be the Birdcrunchers. They live in caves along the western edge of the Devil’s Platter, although traditionally these goblins are the least aggressive of the five major tribes. To the south are the Licktoad goblins of the Brinestump Marsh, pests who are excellent swimmers.” Caleb paused a moment to think then continued, “East are the Seven Tooth goblins of Shank’s Wood. They’re the goblins who’ve secured a place for themselves by raiding Sandpoint’s junkyard and rebuilding the refuse into armor and weapons; the clever little bastards. Farther east are the Mosswood goblins, likely the largest tribe but one that is thankfully held back by feuding within their own ranks most of the time. Finally, there are the Thistletop goblins that live on the Nettlewood coast atop a small fortified island.”

“Very good, my apprentice. Now, what do you know about the goblins in the region? The goblins worth actually knowing about.” Shalelu smiled, but looked stern in her teaching mode.

“Easy enough. Anybody from Sandpoint knows that goblins generally live short, violent lives. It’s unusual for a single goblin to achieve any real measure of notoriety, but when one does, it’s well earned. There are currently, six goblins in the region that enjoy the status of being known among the tribes as a ‘hero’.” Caleb looked up in thought as Shalelu smiled while Lady Ameiko, standing between Shalelu and Qakisst, put her foot up on Qakisst’s chair and leaned in to hear more.

“There’s Big Gugmut. He is an unusually muscular and tall goblin from Mosswood who, it is said, had a hobgoblin for a mother and a wild board for a father.” Athos laughed at Caleb’s description.

“Then there’s the Seven Tooth tribe’s champion, Koruvus. He’s as well known for his short temper as he is for his prized possession; a magical long sword from a human adventurer that the goblin uses like a great sword. I heard that Koruvus vanished several months ago after he supposedly discovered a ‘secret hideout’ in a cave along the cliffs. I’m not convinced he’s gone though. Probably busy defending his hole in the ground.”

“Possibly.” Shalelu replied with some caution.

“Vorka is a vicious goblin cannibal who lives in the Brinestump marsh. She is considered a 'hero' mostly by the goblins other than the Licktoads that she preys upon.” Caleb’s description of Vorka brought a shiver from Laranys.

“Then there are the two chiefs. Rendwattle Gutwad is the obese chieftain of the Brinestump goblins, a fat toad of a goblin who, it is said, never leaves his throne; and Ripnugget is the leader of the Thistletop goblins. Ripnugget controls what the five tribes agree is the best lair; the fortified island of Thistletop.” Caleb saw Shalelu smile proudly as he finished describing the goblin ‘heroes’ before she interjected.

“Then there is my good friend Bruthazmus, a brutish bugbear ranger who lives in the northern Nettlewood. He often visits the five tribes to trade what he steals from caravans for alcohol, news, or magic arrows. Bruthazmus has a particular hatred of elves in general and me in particular. We have fought on several occasions. Unfortunately, I have not yet managed to get the upper hand, but I won’t be the first to fall.” Caleb could see the anger gleam in Shalelu’s eyes.

Ameiko startled everybody out of Shalelu’s smoldering rage when she slapped the table, “Well, now that school is out of session you can quit telling us things they teach first year at Turandarok, Master Deverin. How about an actual tale worthy of the Rusty Dragon’s hospitality?” Caleb noted that Ameiko had at some point taken Qakisst’s seat, but he was not sure when. Qakisst was now sitting next to him and seemed a bit calmer. “Certainly you have some tale that is worth an extra night or two in the Dragon?”

Tessa whipped ink from the arm of the customer she was still working over, “Don’t you dare tell how you met Shalelu again. Everybody at this table has heard it a dozen times. A dozen and one minimum thanks to Junior over there squirming in his chair.” Tessa pointed her ink nib at Qakisst.

“Cadaloz.” Qakisst glowered at Tessa.

“Why thank you, Junior. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.” The table laughed momentarily.

“All right, all right; I think I have something.” Caleb felt a little nervous as he was not used to speaking before a large crowd, and several people nearby seemed to be turning an ear toward their table as he began. “It started as it does too often, with one of ol’ farmer Thompson’s prized sheep.”

“Isn’t everything of ol’ Thompson’s prized?” The voice out of the crowd drew laughter.

Caleb leaned back to address the larger audience, “For sure it is, to ol’ Thompson.” He knew he might as well tell his tale to the entire inn now. “We’d tracked ol’ Thompson’s sheep to a patch of timber down near the Whisperwood. We were crouched behind a small rock outcropping when Shalelu gave me a look; one that I knew meant ‘Do you see it?’” The crowd, to include Shalelu, chuckled slightly as Caleb mimicked Shalelu. “I peered over the slate grey boulder I was using as cover and spotted the hulking form of an ogre. I nodded in the affirmative and hand signaled to her: Left, 30 yards, tree line. She gave me a thumbs up, pulled four black fletched arrows from her quiver and set them against the rock outcropping she was hunkered behind, just a few yards from me. She signed again: longbow, four arrows. I nodded and gripped my scimitar and kukri, prepared to charge in should her arrows not find their mark. We all know that Shalelu very rarely misses, so good is she at finding her target; but I like to be cautious. I watched as she took two of the arrows, nocked them, stood, and took aim at the enemy.” Caleb had stood as he told the story, and now mimicked the motions he had learned so well from his mentor.

“The massive ogre had no idea we were there. We’d been tracking it for the better part of the morning after farmer Thompson told us one of his prized sheep had been stolen. He is always having something stolen from him, and you are right that it always seemed to be a prized sheep, or goat, or cow.” The crowd chuckled again knowing ol’ Thompson’s reputation for exaggeration. “Most of the time the livestock in question had just wandered off and needed to be herded back home. Not today though. This ogre was big; and as it bit into the still live sheep with a sickening crunch, I knew this particular ball of wool would not see home again. Neither would the ogre. Shalelu and I would see to that.” There was a slight gasp of disgust from the crowd as they realized the sheep in Caleb’s tale had been alive when the ogre started to devour it.

“Shalelu pulled the string back and let the first two arrows fly, TWANG, TWANG.” The near perfect sound of a bowstring rang out from Ameiko’s samisen to the crowd’s amusement. “I watched in amazement for the 100th time as Shalelu grabbed the second two arrows and had them sailing towards the target before the first one even connected. Her speed was so graceful, and so, so deadly. All four arrows found their mark. The ogre roared in pain and surprise, dropped the carcass and charged out of the tree line; still alive and quite angry. ‘Here we go’, I thought as I stepped out from behind the boulder and moved up to engage the brute.” There was a slight gasp from some of the ladies now listening in the extended crowd. “The ogre was massive, and the greatclub he wielded was more like a big tree trunk than a club. He barreled out of the trees, smashing headlong into one with his shoulder and breaking it in half. Completely unfazed, the beast saw me and changed his course, swinging the massive stick as he came on. Two more saplings fell under the weight of his blows as they exploded in a shower of splinters that sprayed me with wood fragments. I dodged away and as the giant raised his club for a downward chop, I heard that familiar buzzing noise I have come to love.” The samisen twanged twice more. “Two more arrows blasted the ogre in his chest and he toppled over, dead before he hit the ground.”

“’Well, that wasn’t so bad,’ I said to Shalelu as I put a foot to its chest to try and pull the arrows, buried to the fletchings, out of the corpse.”

“Not for you,” replied Shalelu from across the table. “Hells, I did all the heavy lifting on that one!” she laughed.

“Shush, you. I’m not done. Besides; all you did was pull a bowstring a few times! I’m the one that got sprayed with splinters!” Caleb mimed picking shavings out of his hair and giving her a sly grin.

“Yes, but it was the accuracy of the pulls that taxed my concentration!” Shalelu teased Caleb even more to the crowd’s delight.

“Let me finish the story. We can banter like this all we want out in the woods.”

“And you still won’t win.” Shalelu smirked until Ameiko strummed a sour cord.

“Shush you, young Master Deverin is working for his bed.” The crowd laughed again, knowing the standing rule: If you tell a good enough story, Ameiko will comp your room for the night.

Caleb blushed slightly as he continued, “I turned and examined the ogre as I pulled at the arrows buried to the fletchings. ‘Well, let’s see what this brute has on him,’ I said as I gave up on the arrows and knelt down to inspect the sack sized belt pouch it had tied around its waist. As I opened it, a handful of small gems dropped out. Picking one up, I looked at Shalelu and showed her. ‘Where in the nine hells do you suppose an ogre got something like these?’”

“She wasn’t looking at me though, but rather past me, back towards the tree line. Her face became pale and she exclaimed ‘Oh, no!’” The crowd gasped in anticipation. “That’s when I heard the crashing of trees once more; and the angry bellow of another ogre.”

“As I turned, it had already advanced out of the tree line and was nearly on top of us. I rolled away, just as its massive foot stomped down in an attempt to pulverize my head into the dirt. When I sprang to my feet, it was in the middle of a wide swing at Shalelu. She had her bow up and was drawing back to fire, but the brute connected first.”

“He did not. I very clearly remember getting a solid shot in first.” Shalelu gave Caleb a playful glair.

“Shush you, I’m telling this story.” Caleb smirked at Shalelu across the big table, “Anyway, he hit her square in the midsection, lifted her off the ground, and sent her flying. Shalelu landed near to 15 yards back on top of the rock outcropping we were originally crouched behind.”

“’Oh shit,' I thought as I came to my feet. I chanced a quick glance at Shalelu’s motionless form and hoped she was only knocked out, and not dead; as the ogre bellowed again and reared back for another strike. I crouched low, going into a purely defensive stance because one good hit from that tree trunk and both of us would be its lunch, or worse.”

Caleb heard a gasp from one of the young ladies in the crowd as he continued. “I’ve heard enough stories about how ogres treat their captives and wanted no part in experiencing it firsthand; so I readied myself to do whatever I had to do.”

“The big brute bellowed at me, ‘I KILL YOU, SHORT MAN!’ with breath that stank of rotting flesh and death. The tree trunk club it held whistled down towards my head and I darted away, taking a halfhearted slash at the massive beast’s hands. My scimitar connected, but simply bounced off its thick hide.”

“Again it yelled out, ‘I KILL YOU!!!’ as it rose up again, and again, to swing down with that trunk. I switched tactics and threw up both blades in an attempt to parry the blow. BIG mistake.” Caleb slammed himself down into his chair hard as he continued, “It smashed through my defenses and clipped my shoulder. And damn that hurt!”

“You’re the idiot that went toe to toe in melee with an ogre.” Shalelu smirked across the table.

Caleb continued without pause, “It felt like I had been hit by a runaway horse. I staggered back, attempting to get some feeling back in my left arm as the brute re-gripped his club for another strike.”

“’I KILL YOU!!!’” it screamed again and again. The club came down, hitting me a second time with another glancing blow across my calf. It hurt like hell, and I knew that my leg would be black and blue for days if I survived this. I rolled away as the ogre attempted to stomp me again into the dirt. Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite fast enough and his foot managed to slam into my other leg.” Somebody gasped an audible ‘ouch’ in the crowd. “’THIS IS NOT GOOD!!!’ I shouted to myself. As I staggered to my feet, which were slowly starting to go numb, I knew I needed to keep moving if I was going to survive this.”

“He swung. I dodged. He swung. I dodged. Back and forth, back and forth the battle went. I slashed, slashed, and slashed again and…nothing. The big brute’s hide was as thick as my armor and my attacks were weak. The pain was intense. I needed to keep it out of my mind and focus on survival.”

“’I………….KILL…………..YOU!!!!!!!!!!’ It roared again!”

“I mocked it as it chased me around the clearing. ‘Yeah, yeah, you ugly f&@*. I know, you’re going to kill me,’ I retorted as I shifted the grip on my weapons. ‘First, you have to catch me, you big dumbass!!’ The ogre wasn’t as thick as I thought and realizing it had been insulted, charged forward totally enraged. As his club came down, I awkwardly sidestepped away and slashed out with both blades. A spray of turf and rock erupted from his club as it impacted the ground. He had completely missed me, but my blades finally found him. Two streaks of red formed on his leg where my blades had scored hits. He roared in pain and lashed out with his meaty fist. Again I shifted away and again, my blades created two more deep wounds on his back. Hope surged through me, numbing the pain, and I shifted away before the tree like club could find its mark. My blades bit deep two, four, six more times and within a few seconds, the ogre was bleeding profusely from several slash marks.”

“’I….kill….you,’ it hoarsely replied once more, with a ragged breath.”

“’No. I’m going to kill you.’ I growled at it as I launched myself forward, both blades flying outwards. Two quick slashes and the ogre suddenly found it could no longer breathe. Blood spurted out of its punctured chest as it collapsed to one knee.”

“’I..kill.’ it gasped out, unable to finish its last statement as it choked on its own blood. I stepped forward again to make sure it was truly dead, and slowly drew my scimitar across the beast’s throat. A deep, dark red gash appeared as it bled out. The thing’s eyes bulged; it gasped for breath and then collapsed, dead.”

“I stepped back, exhausted. As the excitement wore off, the pain in my body started to come back. I limped over to where Shalelu was, hoping against hope she wasn’t dead. As I leaned over her still form, she groaned softly, ‘Sonofab+!#&, that hurt,’”

“Well it did. You only took a few glancing blows. I got that tree trunk straight in the chest and walked away from it.” Shalelu turned sideways to look out the windows at the front of the Dragon. “You’re lucky we both aren’t dead.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky. Lucky I have the best damned teacher on the Lost Coast.” Caleb raised his mug to Shalelu with a nod, “But you have to admit; while you were lying down on the job, I managed to kill the bastard singlehandedly.” Caleb mocked Shalelu with a playful seriousness.

Shalelu looked at Caleb with his raised mug and raised hers with a wry smile, “Well I never thought you were really that stupid, taking on an ogre one on one in melee!”

“I saved your life. We’re even for now.” Caleb grinned at Shalelu past the crowd.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she replied with a smile.

“I think that’s worth another night on your tab, Caleb.” Ameiko smiled at the young ranger before standing with her glass in hand, “To Caleb Deverin!” The Dragon’s proprietor lifted her glass as she bellowed out the salutation. The Dragon roared with revelry in reply.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: The Soup Spoon:

The next day passed uneventfully for Konnor. Qakisst was off working on his new spear, Laranys was helping out at the Cathedral, and Athos was off studying with the monk sister at the House of Blue Stones. The rest of the group was off running errands of their own and making an effort to let the town see them. Konnor spent most of his day playing harrows at the Feedbag. As dinner time neared, he made his way back to the Rusty Dragon.

Lady Ameiko had granted the heroes a couple extra days of room and board due to their three night absence and Konnor planned to make the best of it before he was forced to move out of the lovely inn. Konnor was four mugs deep into his ale and the night looked to be a grand one as the party enjoyed the last of their just rewards from Lord Foxglove’s boar hunt.

Suddenly, the bard playing a lively tune stopped and the common room of the Rusty Dragon went silent. Konnor looked to the door and saw an elderly Tian man had just come in and he looked angry. He shouted to the room in the Minkai tongue, "Where the hell is my daughter?" and Konnor realized this must be Ameiko’s father Lord Lonjiku Kaijitsu. Konnor knew who he was but had never met him before. The other tables in the common room suddenly became very interested in the food in front of them. Konnor looked quickly at the confused faces of his companions and realized that no one else understood anything Lonjiku was saying. When no one responded to his demand Lonjiku yelled out, "Daughter, quit hiding from me and get out here." His clenched fists at his side betrayed Lonjiku’s rage.

He scanned the crowd for Ameiko, but his eyes fell upon the Sandpoint heroes instead. Lonjiku’s face flushed with anger. He spat out words in the more common Taldan tongue as he approached the sextet, "Well, if it isn't the ‘heroes’ of Sandpoint. You lot did nothing but endanger our good townspeople with your antics."

“Biz kahraman olduğunu iddia asla. We have never claimed to be heroes, Master Kaijitsu. We only did what the sheriff bade us.” Qakisst stuttered at first in Ignan before catching himself.

"You should have stayed out of the way and let the professionals deal with the goblins." Lonjiku’s temper flared brighter.

“Hey now.” Athos puffed up. Caleb just shook his head knowingly. Lonjiku’s opinion of adventurers, and his daughter’s adventuring career were well known in Sandpoint. Konnor was not sure where the old man was going with this, but he was paying very close attention.

"People were dying. Sarenrae requires that we take a stand against all such cruelty and wanton destruction." Laranys spoke up.

Lord Foxglove stood up returning Lonjiku’s glare with his normally disarming smile, "Calm yourself my good man. This group of adventurers saved my life from those filthy goblins." Aldern’s gracious smile and outstretched arms reassured everybody around him, except Lonjiku Kaijitsu.

"Just what we need, a filthy band of vagrants to attract even more trouble!" Lonjiku spat at them.

“You son of a…” Athos began to rise with his anger as Ameiko stormed from her kitchen carrying a ladle still dripping with soup.

"Father, what is the meaning of this commotion?" Ameiko waved the ladle idly about the room.

"Daughter, good, gather what you need. This town is too much trouble and I am leaving for Magnimar. You are coming with me." Lonjiku switched back to Minkai locked his gaze on his estranged daughter.

"What? This is my home and my business. I am staying" Ameiko responded in the common tongue so all could understand. She set her feet firmly to the floor with obvious defiance of her father’s wishes.

"Your business? Have you not dishonored this family enough? You are going, that is final." Lonjiku stepped toward Ameiko, his face red with rage.

"I am not going anywhere, Father. Do you speak in Minkai to hide your cowardice from these people?"

"Fool of a daughter, I will tolerate no more shameful actions from you. You will obey me!" The elder Kaijitsu puffed himself up threateningly, but Ameiko remained unmoved. Konnor was impressed yet again by the beautiful innkeep.

Her face grew flush with her own temper and Ameiko pointed at the door, "I will do no such thing, you old ass. You can take your f~!$ing demands with you to Magnimar or wherever you want. But, get the hell out of my inn!"

Even as Ameiko pointed at the door Lonjiku reached up and grabbed her by the hair to physically drag her out of her own establishment. No sooner did his fingers touch her hair that Ameiko spun about to slap Lonjiku across the face with the soup ladle still gripped tightly in her hand. Fish stock and potatoes sprayed across Lonjiku and those about him, coating his hair and clothes. The shock of the blow was greater than the impact itself; and it sent Lonjiku stumbling backwards into the crowd that was closing about the two in desperation to see everything. Lonjiku sputtered in rage as the crowd laughed at him. In mere moments he regained his footing, locked icy stares with Ameiko before speaking in Taldan, "You are as dead to me as your mother." With that, Lonjiku stormed out of the Dragon.

Ameiko stared only a moment at the back of her departing father before she picked up her ladle from where it had landed on the floor. She was trying hard not to show anything, but Konnor saw just the slightest of the hurt her father’s comment had inflicted on her face. She inspected the ladle and pulled a hair off of it Ameiko. "I'll need a well-cleaned ladle now, as jack-ass stew is not on the menu!" she loudly announced to the room. As the Dragon’s patrons began to cheer Ameiko on she retreated to the kitchen.

As the rowdy crowd roared with laughter at Lord Kaijitsu’s humiliation, Konnor saw Qakisst lean toward the bard on the stage and whisper something to him. The young bard promptly dove into a lively tune popular with dancers and Qakisst was up and dancing again. Konnor went back to his ale while the remainder of the table grumbled about Lonjiku’s interruption.

“Whatever was that man’s problem with you fine folks?” Foxglove asked.

“Lord Kaijitsu holds a very low opinion of adventurers. Probably because his daughter ran off with some friends to seek their fortune years ago.” Caleb looked a little put out by the whole incident. “It didn’ help that when she came home for her mother’s funeral she bought this inn instead of moving back into their manor house.”

“Lady Ameiko sure handled him quickly though. Didn’t she my dear?” Foxglove turned back to a perpetually uncomfortable looking Laranys.

“Yes, she was quite… capable in dealing with him. Oh goddess, look at the time. I’m afraid I must be off to the Cathedral.”

After Laranys made her difficult exit from Foxglove, Konnor noticed Qakisst had slipped off of the dance floor as well. The party seemed to be breaking up, so Konnor slipped into the kitchen to check on Ameiko. “Are you alright m’Lady?”

“Oh, that old jackass stopped having any effect on me long ago.” Ameiko looked curious at the masked man’s entrance to her kitchen. “Perhaps he’ll finally disown me like he has threatened so many times.”

“Family can be quite trying, I know from experience.” Konnor leaned over to put his hand on Ameiko’s shoulder.

“That is very true. Sadly, being yelled at by an old man doesn’t clean the kitchen.” Ameiko shrugged. “If you’ll excuse me, I am afraid I will be busy in here for a while. Good night, Konnor.”

Well, at least she knew his name. That was a start.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: The Glass Works:

The heat of the forge cranking up and the whoosh of the bellows woke Qakisst just before sunrise at his old place at Savah’s Armory. It did not annoy him because he would have woken in a few minutes anyway. Even as the dreaming city faded from his mind he could feel the sun calling to him as it always did. Qakisst had almost always risen before anybody else arrived until the Deskert twins started on as apprentices. The infernal habit of farm folk to wake before the sun to start their work day had meant that the boys often arrived at Savah’s just as the sun was rising each day, earlier in winter to Qakisst’s detriment.

Simple magic stripped the grime of yesterday’s events away, but they could not strip the memory of Lord Kaijitsu from his mind. He may have been wrong to come storming into his daughter’s establishment, but he was not entirely wrong in his sentiment. Many people had been wounded and a few had died during the goblin raid. Sandpoint’s newest celebrities were not heroes. They were just people caught up in circumstances beyond their control, trying to make the best of their situation. Qakisst stuffed the few unpacked possessions he had not yet claimed from his sleeping space into his pack, grabbed his spear, and strolled out from behind the dividing wall.
“GAHHHHH!!!” The twins jumped as one scattering tools around the work floor at seeing the devilish looking ifrit come out of the dark corner. “Qakisst!”

“Do…”

“…not…

“…do…”

“…that!”

“Sorry guys. I was just bunking the night.” Qakisst strolled across the work floor to help the twins pick up the dropped tools. “If Savah sees you tossing her tools around like that she will not be happy.”

“It was your fault!” The twins intoned with indignation.

“We thought you were…”

“…living the high life…”

“…at the Dragon now.”

“I just needed some space and some sleep. I cannot spend my whole life living in some inn.”

“The Dragon isn’t…”

“…just some inn.”

“That is easier to say when you do not have to listen to Athos and… somebody in the next room.” Qakisst lied. He did not want to tell the twins that the confrontation at the Dragon had put him in a sour mood and that he needed to return to some normalcy.

Long ago Qakisst had learned to ignore any personal liaisons even if he was in the same room as a trysting couple; a legacy of life in his Master’s estate in Qadira before he and his birth mother had escaped. He had no idea who was even in the rooms next to the one he had been staying in, or if they had been enjoying any company the last two nights. He hoped Athos would forgive him the rumor mill about to kick off around town about who the big Shoanti was spending nights with. Qakisst figured the notoriety of being a ladies’ man would not offend Athos much. “I got to go guys. I have things to take care of.”

“Hey…”

“…what did we clear…”

“…the back bench for?”

“Wha’cha need…”

“…the molds for?

“Wha’cha been working on?” The twins’ voices became a chorus following Qakisst out the door to the armory.

Qakisst had things to do and his mind was abuzz with troubled thoughts. Lord Kaijitsu’s tirade the night before still troubled him and Qakisst wished to speak to the Sandpoint patriarch. He did not know why, but he felt in part responsible for the public display last night and thought the owner of Sandpoint’s most noted business might appreciate knowing that some of Sandpoint’s supposed heroes actually agreed with him; at least in part. He also needed to find a place to live now that he was not Savah’s full time apprentice and he felt he had truly exhausted his fair stay at the Dragon. But first, he would have one last breakfast at the Dragon though.

As he approached the Dragon Qakisst’s stomach complained loudly about the feast or famine habits of the last week. Very likely some form of pork would still be on the menu this morning as Qakisst doubted that the inn’s guests had managed to consume the entirety of the gigantic animal from the week before. Just moments later Qakisst strolled up to the front entrance of the Dragon to find Caleb arriving also.

“I thought you were availing yourself of Lady Ameiko’s hospitality this week, Kisst?”

As the two entered the large inn Qakisst shrugged, “I needed some quiet space.”

What the pair found just inside the entry was a frantic Bethana waving a piece of parchment and stammering at Athos and Laranys while Tessa shuffled her feet behind them nervously, “Oh sweet goddess, she… she’s gone.”

Laranys tried to calm the frightened halfling with little success, “It is alright, Ma’am. Take your time and tell us: who’s gone? ”

“Ameiko. She slipped out last night after finding this. It was on the floor of her office this morning.” Bethana passed the scrap of paper to Laranys who scanned it with a look of confusion.

“I cannot read it? What language is this?”

Konnor appeared out of nowhere to grab the page, “It’s in Minkai. It says,

‘Hello, Sis!

I hope this letter finds you well, and with some free time on your hands, because we have got something of a problem. It’s to do with father. Seems that he might have had something to do with Sandpoint’s recent troubles with the goblins, and I didn’t want to bring the matter to the authorities because we both know he’d just weasel his way out of it. You’ve got some pull here in town, though. If you can meet me at the Glassworks at midnight tonight, maybe we can figure out how to make sure he faces the punishment he deserves. Knock twice and then three times more and then once more at the delivery entrance and I will let you in.

In any case, I don’t have to impress upon you the delicate nature of this request. If news got out, you know these local rubes would assume that you and I were in on the whole thing too, don’t you? They’ve got no honor at all around these parts. I still don’t understand how you can stand to stay here. Anyway, don’t tell anyone about this. There are other complications as well, ones I’d rather talk to you in person about tonight. Don’t be late.’

It is signed Tsuto.”

As Konnor read the note, Laranys looked around at the others with some confusion. “Who is Tsuto?”

Caleb and Qakisst looked at each other knowingly, “He is Ameiko’s half-brother” Caleb intoned with a raised eyebrow.

Qakisst’s eyes widened slowly, “He does not sound like his temperament has improved any. The last time I remember Tsuto being in town was just after his mother died.” Qakisst paused with a disturbed look on his face, “Did Tsuto not accuse Master Lonjiku of murdering his mother?”

Caleb’s eyes widened too, “Yeah. They got into a fight during the service and Lonjiku beat Tsuto with his walking cane right there at the funeral.”

“Oh shit.” Both men intoned as Qakisst snatched the letter from Konnor.

Crinkling the unusual rice paper in his fingers, “This is the same type of paper the glassworks uses for their order receipts.” Qakisst looked up into the shocked and confused faces of his contemporaries, “If Lonjiku really is involved in the goblin raid somehow we are going to need all the help we can get. If not, Tsuto is there trying to set him up.”

“And we are going to need somebody that can open locked doors. I bet you’re good at that, Konnor.” Caleb grabbed up his gear even as he speculated on some of the masked Konnor’s talents.

“I can manage that.” Tessa smiled.

“We do not want to blow them open, Tessa.” Athos glowered at Tessa as he pulled his armor from his pack. “Hey, can somebody give me a hand with this?” Tessa glowered back as she stomped out the front door.

Qakisst grabbed the back plate and slammed it into place on Athos’ shoulders, “Why are you antagonizing Tessa? She will drop a bomb down the front of your pants.” Athos pulled the armor straps into place and locked his chest plate into place with his back plate. “Alchemists do a lot more than make things go boom, Athos.”

“I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Then pay attention before she makes your boy bits go boom.”

Athos paled slightly at the thought, “You are the scholarly type. I will take your word for it.”

“I am?”

The six of them rushed out of the Dragon heading up Market Street for the west side of the town. The Kaijitsu Glassworks was less than a five minute run from the Rusty Dragon and the Sandpoint heroes soon found themselves moving slowly up to the large loading dock doors at the south end of the large complex. The doors were barred from the inside and the bar was heavily weighted to prevent any unwanted entry. After a quick discussion the six moved along the back wall to the service entrance. The door was key locked, but Konnor was able to quickly trip the lock and quietly open the door.

“Invincible, I tell you.” Konnor whispered as the lock snapped open with ease. Qakisst was sure he was grinning behind that porcelain mask. The would-be mystery man slipped into the now open door through as narrow a space as possible. A moment later he signaled the others to join him, having checked for any traps he might find.

The service entrance was small and cramped. Through a glass servant’s window in one door Konnor could see a long hallway leading into darkness. “Don’t see anything.” Qakisst put a hand on the top of Konnor’s head and pushed him down out of the window so he could look himself.

“That is the hall to the front entry and service counter. Nothing in the hallway. Check the other door; that should lead to the glassworks floor.” Qakisst pointed to a side door with no window up a small set of stairs to their left in the dark. Tessa was already checking the door for traps and locks before Konnor could move.

“I told you there was nothing.” Konnor looked indignant at Qakisst.

“I have perfect night vision.” Qakisst tapped a finger to the bull like horns extending from his forehead highlighting his unhuman heritage. “Even with all the blinds closed I can see about 40 cubits in total darkness.”

A light click signaled that Tessa had disabled the lock on the side door. Caleb pressed his ear against the door above her and listened. A loud whooshing sound drowned out any other noise. “Something is making a shhhhh noise in the next room.”

Tessa stepped back to let Konnor slip up to the door. “Sounds like an oversized bellows.”

“They use bellows with glass furnaces. The morning shift must already be working.” Qakisst looked around unsure what to do next as Konnor popped the door open just far enough to slip into the room.

As soon as Konnor’s eyes adjusted to the red glow of the glass furnace he spied them. Goblins scattered around the great furnace room. The heat from the furnaces boiled out of the room bringing sweat to everybody’s brow except Qakisst. “Shhh.” The silent warning was accompanied with a finger to the mouth slit on Konnor’s mask. Slipping back out the door quietly he turned to the party, “Little more than a dozen goblins. I think I saw somebody over by the west window in a big throne like chair.”

The group stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment. Laranys seemed to recover first, “What do we do now?”

“We kill goblins.” Athos cracked his knuckles with a slight grin on his face then drew his sword and readied his shield.

“Give me a second. How many?” Qakisst dug into his pack quickly, glad that he had it with him this time.

“Looks like about a dozen.” Konnor repeated.

Qakisst pulled out a tattered paper that he had kept for some time. He read the arcane symbols of an armor spell scrawled across the page and it flared with a brief flame and disintegrated as Caleb said, “We should slip in as quiet as possible. Take out as many as we can before they realize we’re there.”

Everybody nodded in agreement and the troop slowly moved into the room until Athos’ armor clanked against the metal rail just inside the room. The goblins, working over the glass blowing equipment like deranged children with a dangerous toy turned slowly looking into the dark end of the room where the Sandpoint Heroes stood. “Move!” Tessa screamed as she fired her crossbow into the pack of goblins. Qakisst was already half way across the room when Tessa pulled the trigger, thrusting his spear into the first goblin in his path. The spear sparked with arcane blue light that he had channeled into it as the goblin dropped to the ground dead. The remaining goblins swarmed toward Qakisst as the rest of the party surged into the room. The maniacal goblins were put down quickly, with Konnor somehow illuminating the far door to trick the final goblin from running through it while Caleb dropped it. A dozen goblin bodies lay splattered across the 100 foot length of the glassworks while the party panted with exertion and adrenalin.

To their left, encased in still cooling glass sat the perpetually screaming figure of Lonjiku Kaijitsu. Lonjiku’s skin showed blisters where the molten glass had first touched it, but the burns were minimal. His entire body had been encased in molten glass so quickly he had not even had a chance to catch fire before death. His skin melted and deformed inside the colored glass encasement, charred ropes still binding him to the chair where he sat. This was not the work of goblins alone, but someone who knew about working molten glass. Laranys turned away as Athos and Caleb stared in disbelief. Qakisst puked.

The horror of their discovery left the six in a state of shock as they slowly searched the main floor of the Sandpoint glassworks. Sandpoint glass was famous as far away as Korvosa and on to Cheliax. The loss of the glassworks owner would be devastating to the local community. What Sandpoint’s heroes found next showed that things were much worse. The goblins had entered the building in the middle of the night and slaughtered the workers as they slept. Nearly 20 dead bodies were found along with Lonjiku’s entombed form; but no sign of Ameiko Kaijitsu or her bastard half-brother Tsuto. Other than their own careful entrance into the factory, there was no sign of forced entry.

Frustrated and angry, the six made their way back to the loading dock area and to the stairs that led to the storage area underneath the glassworks. Konnor and Athos led the way slowly down the stairs where they found a passageway leading ahead to the northwest. To the left a brick wall had been knocked open recently, leading to an older passageway to the south. A quick examination of the wall showed that a portion of the glassworks basement had been bricked up some years past, but something had broken out of the closed off area. Goblins, being notorious tunnelers, were the obvious culprits. It was starting to look as though Tsuto’s hand written accusations might be true. They followed the long hall to an open storage area with a couple wheelbarrows, some sand, and other supplies. Another passage led to the south, with a door on the right side about halfway and another at the end of the passage on the right. To the left was another area that had been bricked off and recently torn down.

To Qakisst, it looked as if the bricked off areas formed a connecting hall around the back side of the factory’s foundation for the massive glass furnaces upstairs. Athos’ comment confirmed the observation so they chose to continue through the breach in the back of the concealed area at the far back of the hall. The area behind the breach was dusty from lack of use, but the doors to the rooms had been recently maintained. Konnor checked the doors and found only one of them locked. Konnor quickly disabled the lock and quietly opened the door. Bound on a mat inside the room was the sleeping form of Ameiko Kaijitsu. Carefully Konnor and Laranys examined the noble lady turned adventurer turned inn keeper to find that she had been beaten and was barely able to regain consciousness.

“What happened, m’Lady?” Caleb asked after Laranys stabilized the worst of her injuries.

“Tsuto had goblins beat me when I wouldn’t agree to help him hurt the town. Ugghhh…” Ameiko started to lose consciousness again as Caleb grabbed her and helped her to her feet.

“Get her out of here and send any guards you see in town our way.” Caleb reluctantly agreed to Athos command and made his way up the stairs heading for the Dragon.

Checking each room the remaining five found a comfortably sleeping Tsuto Kaijitsu and three goblins resting peacefully with him. Had somebody’s ill-timed commentary on Tsuto’s parentage not disturbed one of the goblins the party might have captured the four before they could wake.

Tessa shouted, “Shut the door” just as she tossed one of her explosive vials into the room. Konnor yanked the door shut just as the loud explosion filled the room beyond. As the sound echoed he then flung the door back open to see three goblins struggling to rise, smoke still rising off their singed bodies as they screamed obscenities in multiple languages.

Qakisst dashed into the room without thought, spearing one of the dazed goblins. Tsuto tossed the sleeping mat off of himself that he had rolled under when the glass vial had sailed into the room, and leapt to his feet grabbing his equipment. “You fools are interfering in things that don’t concern you.” The speed at which the Tian blooded half-elf moved startled even Tessa. Before Qakisst could block the entrance to the room with his spear Tsuto had grappled with Konnor and flipped the masked adventurer into the room slamming the two of them in with the two still living goblins while Tsuto faced Athos, Laranys, and Tessa in the hallway. More stunning was the fact that Tsuto had so quickly handled the situation barehanded. Finishing the goblins quickly the pair rushed out to the hall to find Tsuto had maneuvered himself to have the others in a line with him on the end, so only Tessa could engage him directly.

Realizing he was about to be overwhelmed, the bastard Kaijitsu boy flipped open the next door and sprinted for a tunnel in the back of the room. He had failed to get the door shut behind him though and the delay of getting through the door slowed him just enough that Athos leapt after him keeping pace with him. That gave Konnor the chance to get past the two of them in the tunnel and the fight was on again. The narrow roughhewn tunnel allowed Tsuto to prevent anybody else from slipping past him so he focused on Konnor trying to get past the only thing preventing his escape while Athos hacked at him from behind.

Laranys and Qakisst, unable to get around to any useful position were forced to bide their time in case Caleb or Konnor fell. All Qakisst could do was wait for Tsuto step into the open briefly so that he could shoot fire down the tunnel, but Tsuto did his best to keep Athos’ head in the way of any good shot. For her part, Laranys had skill enough in the gifts of Sarenrae that she could share the blessings of the Goddess with those she wished and withhold it from those she did not find worthy. For what seemed like hours, but was in truth only seconds, the struggle pushed down the old hidden tunnel as the Blessings of Sarenrae kept Konnor and Athos on their feet while Tsuto slowly succumbed to the unending assault. Caleb for his part returned with the guards to find Tessa waiting in the hall and the others in the tunnel with Konnor sitting on Tsuto’s unconscious body just as the masked man pronounced, “I am invincible.”

The Exchange

Every so often there are portions of the story that just don't grab me. Searching the catacombs was fairly uninteresting until we found the well. Then it got fun. Because of that not much stuck in my mind about the rest of the catacombs except Athroxis' statue. And that only stuck in my head because I have her mini. Still, the fight with the witch was fun and was the first hint that somebody in the party has a secret.

Burnt Offerings: The Witch in the Basement:

The city set guards about the loading dock and other entrances to the Glassworks. Word was already spreading throughout the town of Lord Kaijitsu’s death, and Tsuto Kaijitsu’s apparent involvement in the goblin raid. By sheer luck Konnor had managed to not kill Tsuto and Laranys stabilized him so that he was captured alive. They dropped him off at the garrison to rot in a jail cell. A search of Tsuto’s equipment confirmed his involvement in smuggling the goblin war-chanter and his troops into the town the morning of the Swallowtail Festival. Worse, Tsuto had kept a journal and that journal pointed to an unlikely, and unknown to Athos, accomplice. Caleb explained that five years ago everybody had presumed that Nualia Tobyn, the aasimar adopted daughter of Father Tobyn, had died in the mysterious fire that destroyed the old temple and a large part of the town. Now the party and a few of the town’s leaders knew this wasn’t true.

Nualia had set the fire and murdered her own father. She had become corrupted by worship of Lamashtu, the Mother of Demons, and had intended the fire to not only hide her disappearance, but to destroy the town that she had come to despise. Tsuto was merely her agent who provided leverage that had forced Lonjiku to allow Tsuto access to the tunnels under the Glassworks which he used to orchestrate the attack. Fortunately for all, Tsuto and Nualia’s poor opinion of Sandpoint’s residents had led them to underestimate its capability to defend itself. The journal indicated they were planning a larger attack on the town, with a “quasit and her freaks” bellowing up from below the town.

Athos did his best to go over things in his mind and resolve what had happened this morning. This bastard half-elf Tsuto had tried to convince Ameiko to help him attack the town with goblins? All for this Nualia that was supposed to have been dead for five years? It seems Riddleport wasn’t the only place where crazy people gathered under the guise of “civilization”. At least his companions seemed reliable, if not exactly the most stable. Most of the others were exhausted, so the group was not ready to go further exploring the tunnel below the Glassworks. Sandpoint’s heroes had settled in uneasily to a lunch at the Rusty Dragon to try and plan their next step. It was there that the Guard Captain in charge while the sheriff was gone found them and summoned them to the mayor’s office to discuss their plans.

Caleb figured that goblins, if there were more down in the tunnel than had been found, would be more likely to come out at night. The guards posted around the entrance to the Glass Works basement could contain any goblins and raise an alarm if needed during the day. At night though, they might manage to slip past human guards in the total darkness before moonrise. So that gave the party some time to make preparations before camping that night in the Glassworks basement where Qakisst and Tessa would be able to match the night vision of the goblins. Then, if nothing else had crept out of the tunnel under the Glassworks during the night, the six of them would begin searching the tunnels tomorrow to see what was under the town, and how extensive these tunnels were.

Athos took the opportunity to take care of his equipment during the day, making sure his armor and shield were properly maintained and sharpening his long sword. He dropped by the armory where Qakisst had worked and found a nice longbow to purchase. These goblins had a habit of hanging back and not engaging him in combat like true warriors. After he had finished his preparation, he dropped by the House of Blue Stones to continue discussing the finer points of armed versus unarmed combat with the monk sister Sabyl. While Athos did not think wading into combat unarmed to be all that safe, Sabyl could hold her own with just her fists and feet.

The night passed uneventfully in the glassworks, so they began to explore after a quick meal. What they found stunned them. The tunnels under the Glassworks continued on for well over 1000 cubits. Under the town the tunnel split with one branch ending in a small cave just off the Old Light on the sea side where a small path led down to the beach. Caleb found evidence that goblins had been camping there, but they were unable to find any nearby. Another branch extended under the town to the east that ended in a cave-in. The third branch connected to a strange complex as ancient as the Old Light itself. The maze of rooms and corridors was filled with angry humanoid creatures whose bite channeled the most violent images to mind.

Further in they discovered a deranged three armed goblin taller than Qakisst that spit noxious acid at them. After that it attacked with weapons in each hand while trying to knock them down covered pits containing ancient zombies. The large mutated goblin had once been one of the goblin heroes Shalelu had told them about, though Caleb only recognized Koruvus after the party killed him. Qakisst rained spells down on the zombies in the 10 pits and ended their centuries of undeath. The goblin hero had been famous among its own kind for carrying a human crafted magical long sword, though it was supposed to have wielded it like a great sword due to it being normal size and he a small goblin; and there had never before been mention of an extra arm. Something had caused the creature to grow much larger than a normal goblin, and the third arm made it all the more frightening. Since no one else wanted it, Athos took the magical blade for his own as an upgrade over his current weapon.

What shocked Athos the most was the overwhelming anger he felt as he moved about the place. The very structure itself seemed to gnaw on your last nerve, invoking anger of a palatable nature. “Does anyone else just feel angry for no reason?” Athos had not felt anything like it before.

“I felt like this in the winter of 4702 that began the Late Unpleasantness. I felt angry with everyone and got in several fights at school. It felt like 50 years of rage were all spilling out at once.” Qakisst shook briefly at the memory.

“I know what you mean. The littlest things seemed to put everyone on edge. I got into fights with my siblings and parents about the stupidest things.” Suddenly a realization hit Caleb. “Do you think Lonjiku actually did kill his wife like Tsuto accused him?”
“Everyone knew Lonjiku was not Tsuto’s father. Perhaps this rage caused him to snap and kill her for the infidelity?” Qakisst looked shocked at the revelation.

“What are you talking about? The whole town got angry at the same time?” Athos did not like the sound of this, but didn’t want his companions to see his fear.

“It was the weirdest thing. Everyone seemed to be angry for a couple weeks. Right after that, the Chopper started killing people.” Qakisst looked to be deep in thought remembering the events.

“It all makes sense! Jervis Stoot was odd, but then something snapped and he went on a killing spree. Qakisst, Gedi Thorn had always disliked non-humans, but when the rage focused his hate he tried to stab you, before Pavo stepped in the way.”

“And not long after they got the Chopper, Nualia killed Father Tobyn and tried to burn down the town. But what would cause the people of Sandpoint to turn against each other like that?” Qakisst now looked as worried as Athos felt.

The answer came when the Sandpoint heroes found what appeared to be some kind of temple chamber. Just outside there was a small shrine that Laranys identified as dedicated to some kind of demon lord. A large ornate fountain dominated the center of the temple room’s main floor. In the back, a tiny creature of pure evil stood on a large raised dais. The otherworldly creature dripped blood into a strange well with brightly glowing water bubbling in it. As the blood hit the surface of the orange liquid, another of the sinspawn abominations that had haunted the chambers of this ancient complex crawled out. Already there were two more of the creatures shuffling about the stage howling their rage. As the sinspawn crawled out of the well, the light within the pool dimmed perceptibly. The creature cursed upon seeing the dimming light and barked at her creations in a strange language. She then took wing into the air and vanished from view.

“Bu quasit olduğunu! It is the quasit!” Qakisst yelled to the others as he moved around the left side of the room and launched fire at the closest sinspawn. Konnor and Laranys joined him on the left side of the fountain while Caleb and Athos moved to the right. The quasit reappeared near the top of the domed ceiling and cackled.

Athos was able to shake it off, but an unnatural fear like none they had ever known gripped Caleb and Laranys. They dropped whatever was in their hands and ran out of the chamber. They did not get far as they had dropped their only light source and quickly plowed into the wall at a corner in the hallway, knocking themselves momentarily senseless.

The others shook off the wicked spell and fired anything they could at the hovering demon-spawn while Athos engaged the wolf she had summoned. The foul creature laughed and faded from view once more. Its laughter stopped when it heard Konnor chant a few arcane words that it had not expected to hear. The area around the creature erupted in velvet light that clung to anything it touched, including the invisible demon. It howled and sought to flee, but Athos pushed the door shut. Tessa, able to see the creature now pulled bottles of water she had saved from her last visit to temple. If the creature was born of unholy fire, she had figured that holy water would do what fire could not.

The chaos of combat ensued as the remaining quartet quickly dispatched the foul creations then moved to dispatch the glowing demon, now unable to hide. The tiny quasit zipped from one end of the room to the other, desperate to avoid Tessa’s deadly aim with holy water and Athos’ arrows.

When Caleb and Laranys returned, having finally overcome the cursed magical fear everybody screamed, “Close the damned door!” The quasit bolted for the door, only to find it slammed shut just before it could escape. Though it took time the outcome was inevitable. Unable to summon more reinforcements without leaving itself vulnerable to attack, the tiny demon resorted to flinging a tiny dagger at the party until it finally fell to the weapons of Sandpoint’s heroes.

“What was that thing?” Athos poked at the small pile of worldly items that had been left behind the dead demon.

“A quasit. A demonic familiar summoned from the abyss by dark wizards and witches.” Qakisst spat the words in disgust. “When such wizards die, the nasty little bastards remain here in the mortal world and cause all kinds of havoc. I bet that thing had been down here as long as this place has existed. Bound at one time to whatever Thassilonian built this evil place.”

Konnor stood over the strange well in the floor of the dais looking at it, “What is this thing?”

“Be careful, Konnor!” Laranys berated her masked companion. “There is no telling what that thing will do to a person.”

“It is obviously old magic. Probably part of the same magics that have kept this place from decaying or crumbling to dust with time.” Qakisst was examining the decorations in the room as Athos gathered the small collection of trinkets left by the quasit’s destruction.

“Hey, Q. Is any of this magical?” He held out the pile, a small dress, a belt with a tiny dagger sheath, the tiny dagger that had fitted into it, and a tiny crown.

“That little metal splinter is magical. Not sure how you are going to wear it though. Maybe the sheath will fit around your pinky.” Athos snorted at the thought and packed the belongings away, but not before Tessa grabbed the tiny crown to try and wear as a bracelet.

“This whole place reeks of some kind of abjuration against decay. Only in heavily damaged areas are there any signs of deterioration, and the even walls glow to othersight.” Qakisst was studying the room with an odd look on his face.

“Othersight?” Laranys looked at Qakisst puzzled.

“Yeah, when I unfocus my eyes to see the magical auras of any objects. My friend Korva calls it my ‘othersight’.” Qakisst continued to look around the room as the others gathered near the door. “I thought a Dawnflower blessed with the gift of magic could learn a similar spell if they choose to.”

“We can. We just call the spell ‘See Magic’ for simplicity.” Laranys looked about nervously while waiting for the group to finish. “Is anybody hurt? I feel like I should be doing something useful.”

“I got wacked a couple times trashing those white ghoulish things.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m not dying, but I have been better.”

“I got clawed up a bit, but I think I have stopped the bleeding.

Laranys stepped into the center of her friends and asked for Sarenrae’s help. The healing energies of her goddess flowed over Sandpoint’s heroes knitting their wounds back together. It stung a little but Athos knew it beat weeks of bed rest and possible infection.

“We should get out of here. I do not see anything else that needs smacking.” Athos strolled towards the door.

“I think we should bring ol’ Brodert down here. He is always studying the Old Light claiming it was a Thassilonian weapon, and not a light house. He’ll love this place.” Konnor looked around the room as he strolled to the door.

“I think we should get Master Gandethus and old Parooh too. Maybe even Father Zantus.” Qakisst blinked as he focused his eyes back to the normal. “They all have some background in either magic, history, or religion. This place does look a bit like a temple.”

“Konnor, can you lock the door to keep anybody else out?” Caleb looked around for the masked man only to find him already working on the lock in the door.

“Not a problem.”

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: Missing Teeth:

Searching the entirety of the tunnels and the ancient Thassilonian structure had taken the majority of the morning and much of the afternoon. As the party left they set a few tasks for themselves and agreed to meet at the Dragon for dinner. Qakisst headed up towards the sheriff’s office hoping to question Tsuto about the catacombs. He and Konnor had tried questioning the bastard Kaijitsu family member about his activities before the party had descended into the tunnels, but he had remained silent and unmoved. They had spoken only briefly to Ameiko about her brother and father’s deaths. The news of how far Tsuto’s treachery had gone barely fazed her. When she had asked if Tsuto was dead they had told her he was in jail. Her reply, “That is a shame.”

When they arrived at the garrison they found the place in disarray. Captain Bar Merik was laid out unconscious in the front office and a guard was beaten badly and locked in the prisoner’s cell. Other guards were rushing around in confusion trying to figure out what to do. Tsuto was gone.

“HEY!!!” Qakisst grabbed one of the scurrying guards. The frightened man turned in an almost panicked state. “HEY! Go to temple and get a healer. NOW!!” The shout shook the guard out of his state of shock and he rushed to do as instructed.

“Keys are here under the desk.” Konnor waved the keys he had found and went to unlock the guardsman unconscious in the cell.

“Hey you. Help me get your supervisor off the floor.” One of the confused guardsmen moved to help Qakisst lift Bar off the floor. The Captain groaned as blood trickled down his face from an obviously broken nose and badly battered face. “Easy Bar. Looks like you caught the door to the cell block right in the face.” As his blackened eyes slowly opened, Bar struggled and began swinging. The guardsman caught the flailing fist just before Qakisst’s face. “HEY! This is me. This is Qakisst!”

Struggling to open his swollen eyes Bar mumbled through a fat lip. “Qu? Owwwww. Wha vhe fell faplenen?”

“Slowly, Bar. I think you are missing some teeth.”

“Fthucck.” Bar gripped his head trying to clear his thoughts.

“Just hold on. We got a healer on the way.” Qakisst looked around at the other guards. “You. Be useful and find his teeth so that maybe the healer can put them back.” Feeling a headache coming on, Qakisst sat down behind the desk next to Bar. “We are so screwed here.”

“What do you mean 'we'? You took the badge.” Konnor smiled from the entry as Father Zantus and Laranys came through the door.

“Blessed Sarenrae, what happened.” Laranys looked about at the mess in the small office at the front of Sandpoint’s jailhouse.
“Jail break.” Qakisst and Konnor’s voices echoed off the walls.

“Here, Father Zantus. I think these are all Bar’s.” The guardsman passed the collection of teeth to the senior clergy.

“Oh dear. This is going to hurt a bit, Bar. Can you open your mouth?” As father Zantus worked on Bar, Konnor motioned to Qakisst and Laranys to move into the back room where the prisoner had been locked.

“Cell door was opened with the key. No force, no scraping it with a set of picks.” Konnor pointed to the lock as he swept through the room. “Hope this is as close as I ever get to being in one of these.”

“How did he get the key?” Laranys looked around in confusion.

“Probably off of the guard Qakisst and I found in here when we arrived.”

“They are out front waiting on a cleric. Got any oomph left in you today, m’Lady?

“Enough for this. Let’s go see them.” From the front room they could hear a gurgling Bar enduring Father Zantus’ best efforts at healing. “The poor Captain will not be feeling very good tonight.”

“I am more than a little familiar with it.”

“Having teeth knocked out is a special kind of pain, Qakisst.”

After questioning the guard that had been found in the cell, the trio learned that Tsuto had complained all of last night and most of this morning about stomach cramps. When he had begun to heave like he was going to vomit the guard had decided to take him to temple to see a healer. It had taken very little time for Tsuto to subdue him once he opened the cell; and when Captain Merik had moved to see what the commotion was the door to the back room had slammed him right in the face just as Qakisst had imagined. Stunned, Merik had been no match for the disciplined unarmed training Tsuto had mastered. They were lucky that Tsuto had been in too much of a hurry to leave. To get out of the town unseen he had to leave by Junker’s Cove at low tide, and he probably timed his vomit act for mid-morning knowing that the tide would cut off any pursuit. Qakisst was impressed. Tsuto had either known from inside the garrison building when the tides would be going out and coming in; or he was the luckiest bastard in Sandpoint.

Qakisst, Konnor, and Laranys trudged across the street to the city office and asked to see the mayor in private. They had instructed the guards and Father Zantus to tell nobody of Tsuto’s escape, but this was Sandpoint. Rumors ruled and the whole town would likely know by sundown. In private the trio explained what they had learned of Tsuto’s escape. They knew that Caleb had already informed his aunt of the tunnels underneath the town. The mayor was not happy.

To her credit though, she did not take her anger out on the messengers, and she did not blame them for Tsuto’s escape. Qakisst feared that she might take it out on the injured guardsmen. Qakisst had come to respect Bar, and knew that there was no way he could have been prepared for what happened to him. He hoped Mayor Deverin would not be too hard on him; or Sheriff Hemlock when he returned from Magnimar.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: The Boar Spear:

Making sure that all the errands that had to be run were completed, Qakisst made a quick trip to see Grandmother Niska to ask about a favor. While he was not actually related to her, all Varisi considered the ancient seer Niska Mvashti their grandmother. Qakisst took what time was left in his day to be seen walking around Sandpoint before heading to Savah’s to continue on his project. When he got there he found the twins stocking the wood bins and clearing up after a long morning. Savah insisted on a clean shop and required her workers to set everything in order after each job.

“Hey guys.” Despite his efforts, Qakisst could no longer keep a cheery smile painted on his face.

“Who kicked you…”

“…in the puppies?”

“Can I go back to being an apprentice?”

“No!” The twin voices stunned him.

“We are getting to like…”

“… not being the junior apprentices.”

“Great. I have been replaced by bookends.” Both twins stuck their tongues out at Qakisst as they went back to cleaning up the work area to begin their next assignment.

Qakisst worked into the late afternoon on the first draft for his new spear. For his first effort he kept the cross bar and heavy head of a hunting spear and with some effort figured out that using this current spear to make a mold of the haft would get him the right grip and size, then binding two wooden javelins butt to butt gave him the right length to create the hollow core of the haft. It took him until nearly 6 bells to finally poor the molten steel into the thin tube that funneled down into the mold. He made Keth and Ben stand clear as he knew molten steel would shoot out of the air holes once all the air had been driven out of each section. When the molten metal shot out he slipped a cinder brick over the air vent to cut off the flow. Anybody else would have been badly burnt doing it, but Qakisst no longer noticed the heat.

He recognized the feeling from his youth. When Qakisst had been with his birth mother fire never bothered him. After she had passed away he had found that he was slightly more resistant to heat than most humans, but not much. However, as he had learned to control his elemental heritage the ability he had only instinctively used around his mother came under his greater control. Only the hottest man-made fires could harm him now, and only a few natural fires would have any effect.

When the molten ore had cooled enough to no longer be liquid Qakisst popped the mold open and the rough cast weapon glowed red hot. Qakisst picked up the long tongs used to hold hot steel in the forge, flipped the base mold up so that the still hot spear popped free, then grasped it before the hot metal could scorch the wood bench. He walked the spear up to the horse trough outside the warehouse door and dropped the spear in. Steam shot up in all directions.

“You are supposed to wear an apron and leather gloves when you do that.” Savah glared at him from the door between the customer area and the work shop.

“The steam cannot burn me, Savah.”

“Maybe not, but it can them.” Savah pointed behind Qakisst to the twins. “And aren’t you two supposed to have cleaned up already?”

“His fault!” The two boys rushed to clean up their mess, but purposefully left the area Qakisst had been working in for him.

“I still have rules in my shop, and you will follow them, got it mister?” Savah glared at her one time apprentice. “Anybody gets hurt in my shop it had better be my fault and not yours. You may be a licensed smith and weapon maker now, but you are not the master craftsman in this shop. Anybody gets hurt following your example and I will toss you under the horse cart for your own good.”

“I am sorry, Master Bevaniky.” Qakisst looked ashen faced after the dressing down he had just received.

“Enough with the Master Bevaniky. You’ve had your scolding and you have not called me that in two years.”

“You have not had to dress me down like that in two years.”

“True. So do not do it again. Now, show me what you are doing in my horse trough.” Savah rarely shod horses, and only kept the trough to squelch long metal weapons like great swords to cure the metal. Qakisst knew she was not upset that he had used the trough, only that he had made a poor example for the twins.

“It should be cool enough for me to pick up, but anybody else would still need tongs.” Qakisst took the tongs, after a slight scowl from Savah, and pulled the unfinished spear from the tank. He carefully rolled the spear over to hand the tongs to Savah. “Here, check my weight. It should be a touch heavy at the moment. I cannot grout out the wooden fill I used to make it hollow until it completely cools. I will have to rough sand the barbs down from the vents but when it is done I will be able to do with this what I have done when working swords on the bench.”

“You cannot heat one fast enough to make a difference in combat and it will blunt the edge after a time.” Savah understood that Qakisst was referring to his ability to heat metal in his bare hand as if he had buried it deep into the forge.

“I can heat it with just a thought, and I know enough about weapons to keep it sharp. I made sure to use a heavy temper steel that will hold an edge when heated. I am paying for everything, and I do not mind the cost. It will hold its edge well enough.”

“How are you going to balance it? That heavy metal poll can’t be even all the way through.”

“I will thread the bottom once it finishes cooling all the way and I have grouted out the wood core. Then I can put a weighted cap on the bottom and wield more weight to the head if needed to get proper balance.”

“Is this your final product?”

“No, Ma’am. This is just my proof of concept; my first good practice.”

“So you are going to make another mess out of my shop at closing time?” Savah’s words made Qakisst turn his eyes west.

“Crap.” Qakisst took the spear back from Savah and stored it at the back work bench, and quickly cleaned up his mess.

“As long as you follow the rules Mr. Vishtani; remember that. And you two, you are late getting home and I know your Pa still sets you to doing chores. Get moving.”

Both boys grabbed their satchels and dashed out the door while their twin voices echoed up the street, “Thank you, Master Savah!”

Within minutes Qakisst had cleaned up his work space and changed into his nicer clothes. Savah watched him come out from behind his dividing wall, “Are you going to be sleeping at the Dragon again or scaring my apprentices half to death in the morning?”

“I am sorry about that, Savah. I just have not had a chance to find my own place. Sir Jasper is looking into finding me one to rent, but we have been so busy chasing goblins and whatever else Mayor Deverin wants us doing that I will be crashing here tonight. I kind of feel like I would be imposing a bit too much if I keep taking room at the Dragon. That is her business, and I do not want to wear out my welcome taking up a room she can rent.”

“Don’t you think that you are imposing on me a little?” Qakisst looked sheepish at the comment. “Don’t sweat it kid. I am just yanking your chain. I am not planning to rent your space out to anybody, but when you find your own place, that cube becomes your work space, got it?

“Yes, Savah.”

“I am going to hang a picture of you over it and charge tourists for guided tours of the Sandpoint Hero’s work space and one time home.”

“I should have let this place burn to the ground five years ago.”

“Then where would you have lived?” Qakisst stuck his tongue out at Savah as he turned to head for the Dragon. “I will miss having you around all the time, boy. None of my other apprentices ever show off their best side like you tend to when in a hurry.”

“I am still twice your age and we both know you are not interested in my view, Savah.” Qakisst called out over his shoulder.

“And you still look like you should be starting school, not finishing an apprenticeship.” Savah yelled after the ageless ifrit as he walked around the corner. “Why do I have to have him as competition?” Savah shook her head and moved to lock up her shop.

Qakisst arrived at the Rusty Dragon just after seven bells. Most people had finished their evening meals and were either set to enjoy the Dragon’s traditional revelry or had left for the evening. Even Lord Foxglove had finally returned to Magnimar to be about his business, much to Laranys’ relief.

“Has somebody talked to Lady Ameiko about Tsuto escaping?” As soon as Qakisst arrived one of the Dragon’s serving girls slid a plate of food and ale in front of him.

“Yeah,…” Caleb replied as Qakisst took his seat, “…she handled it better than expected. She extended her offer of room and board to us in perpetuity for catching him and rescuing her. I think the fact that we did not loot the safe when we were searching the Glassworks impressed her.”

“Where you been, Q?” Athos slapped the much smaller ifrit on the back. “We thought you were going to bail on us.”

“Nah, just working on a new weapon.” Qakisst shoveled the spicy food into his mouth even as he spoke.

“You getting tired of that old hunter’s spear you have been swinging around?” Athos mock stabbed across the table while laughing.

“Hey, show some respect. I killed a giant with that thing.”

“A giant? Yeah, sure.”

“Never said I was alone when I did it. A genie had just burned most of its face off when I skewered it from behind.” Qakisst gritted his teeth a little and went to stand. Having old friends tease him about the spear or his giant story did not bother him, but from the big fighter it felt insulting.

“Wait, hold up. You aren’t kidding, are you?” Athos held the back of Qakisst’s chair to stop him from standing.

“No. I am not.”

“You had a genie? Come on.” Athos scowled at Qakisst with disbelief.

“I never said I had a genie. I said that a genie had burned most of its face off. My mother was an efreet; a genie born of the living essence of fire and magic.” Qakisst tapped the long bull like horns on his head as he settled back into his seat. “Where did you think these came from, cattle wrestling?” Athos stared in disbelief while releasing Qakisst’s chair so Qakisst continued, “She died trying to protect me from a hill giant during a blizzard. We were trying to take shelter in a cave during the storm, but found it occupied.” Qakisst paused a moment before he continued, “I was too slow to help her, but I caught it flat footed from behind when I finally managed to clear my head enough to act. I was just a kid then.” Qakisst sipped on his drink not looking at anybody. The weight of the memory pressing down upon him even as it sank in upon his new friends that he was not making up a tall tale to impress anybody. The crowd around them continued to celebrate the evening as only a crowd at the Dragon could.

“I never understood what people meant when they said that you were spirit born.” Athos whispered the words with a touch of awe. “Born of a fire genie, wow.”

“Wait, hold on.” Caleb’s eyebrow rose questioningly. “I thought your mother… you know… during The Troubles… just before you started working for Savah?” Even in curiosity Caleb delicately danced around mention of Chopper, the old artist Jervis Stoot, that had gone on a killing spree that cost 25 people their lives in Sandpoint. Residents of Sandpoint rarely wanted to talk about The Unpleasantness.

“Liandra was my heart-Mother. She rescued me from a mob in Korvosa about 15 years ago; then adopted me. My birth mother died a little over a year before that.” Qakisst shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, but did not attempt to leave. Time and age had dulled the pain enough that he could talk about these things, even though it still hurt.

“Whoa, wait a minute. 15 years ago? You have got to be kidding us, Q. You hardly look 15 years now. You really are spirit born.” Athos’ stunned disbelief still annoyed him, but Qakisst had grown used to the big man’s bluntness and quite liked the Shoanti fighting man’s honest directness. He realized that Athos had probably never had dealings with the elemental born ifrit and had no idea what all that entailed, yet the Shoanti were familiar with what they called the spirit born. Elemental descendants of air, water, and earth were more common, though still rare, in the north than the ifrit; who generally preferred a desert climate.

“If Master Gandethus and Grandmother Niska are to be believed, I think I should be 60 early next year. Probably makes me three times your age, or near about.” Athos looked like somebody had slapped him. Caleb, Konnor, and Laranys had each had at least some dealings with the planes-touched at some point in their lives; enough to know that they aged more like elves than men.

“Phhhuh. You are still just a child, Qakisst. I thought you were at least of proper age to go harrowing about chasing goblins. I shall have to start fending off all the ladies that are lining up behind your seat waiting to dance once you finish dinner.” Everybody at the table turned towards Tessa as her comment registered on them. “What?” Tessa looked back with an innocent glazed expression. She was showing her tattoos to a young man that was fascinated with the range and area that Tessa’s ink covered.

“Stop teasing them, cousin. They have not figured it out.” Qakisst was glad for a distraction from his own life story.

“Figured what out?” Athos and Konnor looked from Qakisst to Tessa as Caleb and Laranys looked around at everybody in confusion. Athos continued, “You said that the two of you are not actual blood relatives.”

“We are not. She has been quiet about it, but I can see the signs. The wind always follows you around, and few people can keep up once you start moving, am I right Tessa?” Qakisst resumed shoveling food into his mouth, slightly annoyed that he had let it get somewhat cold. He slipped a hand under the metal plate and heated in slowly.

“You have to be shitting me!” Athos turned toward Tessa as Qakisst chuckled. Laranys ran a hand over her face as realization dawned upon the young cleric as well.

“I do not know what you are all talking about.” Tessa turned slightly to the side and turned her nose up slightly while showing another sample of her work to the young man that was oblivious to the conversation. “Here, what do you think of this one?” Even in doors, the winds wafted the young Vishtani tattoo artist’s hair as she turned.

“Sure you do. I have been hearing about the artist Tessa since shortly after Mama Liandra rescued me. You have been known as one of the best tattoo artists in all of Varisia. You may not look much over 20 yourself; but I doubt that you were inking Varisi sorcerers when you were five or six. I admit that I am a bit slow some times, but the pieces were always there to puzzle out. Or were you such a child prodigy that you had a tattoo needle in your hand when you were born?”

“87.” Tessa seemed as indignant as her tattoo fan seemed oblivious.

“What is 87?” Caleb looked dubious at Tessa. Even though he had been one of the party members familiar with Qakisst’s extended lifespan, the idea that this could be Tessa’s age just would not click in the young ranger’s mind.

“My age; I think. I could be off by a few years. I quit counting birthdays sometime around age 50.” The young man that had been chatting with Tessa about her tattoos stopped and looked up at her as she looked over her shoulder at the rest of the group. “I do not think it is really that important.” She smiled then looked at her new fan. “What do you think of this eagle? I think it will look splendid across your broad shoulders.” Tessa went back to working her potential customer and ignored the others.

The other four turned to look at Qakisst. “You knew?” Caleb cocked his eyebrow again.

“I am a bit surprised that you had not figured it out.” Qakisst finished his ale and slipped from the table and smiled, “Like I said, I am not known for being the most observant person so I figured at least one of you knew.” He turned to the crowd looking for a dance partner and found himself face to face with Laure.

“Hello, Q. I have been hoping you had a space on your dance card for me tonight.” Qakisst was stuck. He could either be rude or he could dance, and he always chose dance over any uncomfortable confrontation. Unfortunately this combined both.

“This does not mean anything, Laure.” Qakisst took her hand politely and moved away from the table to dance. The two of them slipped into the crowd and began to dance. Once one couple had started to dance tables pushed away from the center of the room and the bard currently performing adjusted mid-stream to a livelier and more appropriate tune.

“I am not looking for a wedding proposal; just a good time. Uh, not that kind of good time.” Laure blushed. Qakisst could not ever remember the self-assured young woman ever blushing, “I am so going to screw this up again, aren’t I?” She caught her breath for a moment before continuing, “Look, I am very sorry about the other night. Honestly it took me two days to work up the courage to try and talk to you after that. Forgiven? Please?”

“Um… Forgiven.” Qakisst was sure that the entire room was staring at him in his mortification.

“Wealday is my night off and I like enjoying nights off with friends. Please say we are friends, Q.”

“I thought you said you liked your job.” Qakisst dodged the request.

“I did, and I do.” Laure looked down into Qakisst’s eyes. The tall busty woman smiled, “It is just that I really like you; and sometimes it is just nice to spend time with somebody who is interested in something other than just your body. Anybody else in here will just presume I expect payment for service. I actually think that you are more terrified that I will not. Then you would not have any excuse.”

Qakisst nearly choked at the thought of paying a woman for the service of her body, “I do not think I could ever do that. Besides, you cannot tell me that you would be disappointed if I was interested in your body.”

“Fair enough. I do wish you were more interested in my body, but I like that you are not. Is that kind of weird? Anyway; would you care to elaborate on that first part, or is that a little too personal?” The tempo of the next song changed and the pair shifted speed to match.

“It is very complicated.”

“It always is, sweetie. It always is.” Laure smiled and pulled herself tight to Qakisst as they danced. The young man turned every shade of purple, but kept his feet moving.

Laure did not monopolize all of Qakisst’s time as he had feared she might try, though several of Sandpoint’s more ‘respectable’ young ladies scowled at him for dancing with a worker from the Pixie’s Kitten. He changed partners every few songs once Laure had released her grip, and as the night wore on he excused himself politely, and then slipped out the door to head back to Savah’s Armory where he could sleep in relative safety. He knew there would be rumors in the morning, but at the moment he just did not care. This was Sandpoint and there were always rumors.

The Exchange

Anybody that writes some kind of fiction will tell you that some characters just write themselves. I would like to say that Tessa is one of those characters. But in honestly Tessa is the creation of my teenage son who just left for college in August. Not to worry, we made it into Skinsaw before he left for college. Though Qakisst definitely misses Aunt Tessa.

When I began writing parts of the story involving Tessa, and especially this chapter I tried to find any other fictional character that I could draw inspiration from. I chose season one Abby Scuito of NCIS fame. After season one Abby becomes a little too girly, and not as hard core Abby. When I told my son this he was thrilled. It seemed that Abby was indeed the inspiration for his Varisi adoptee named Tessa Loundexx. And not just Abby, but early series Abby. Aparently he was doing a marvelous job of portraying his character. I could not imagine anybody else as our hyper intelligent alchemist.

A little salute to Pauley Perrette. You gave our snarky tattooed mad bomber life and you didn't even know it.

Burnt Offerings: The Waters of Wrath:

Tessa rose from bed with a smile. She hated being bored and today would be interesting. Now that her newfound compatriots had cleared the Thassilonian tunnels under Sandpoint a more careful examination of the catacombs under the city could be conducted. She quickly went about the morning business of prepping her equipment, but with a care that few ever saw. She mixed bits of powders and measured out a hand full of strange liquids and packed the mixtures she created about her vest, belt, and pack for easy access; then straightened her room before leaving. Tessa was not sure how much longer Lady Ameiko would really allow her free room but she was really starting to like this place. It almost felt like a home though; so she knew it would all fall to pieces soon enough.

Tessa nearly floated down the stairs from the rented spaces above the Dragon’s common room and pulled on her mask. Oh, it was not like the stupid porcelain facial cover Konnor wore. No, this mask let her fit in with the common rubes that lived dull lives of repetition and consistency in cities like Sandpoint. She did not dislike the people about her, she even admired a few of them, but they had been suckered into a lifetime of eternal boredom in their fixed houses and solid foundations. She wasn’t sure why she was still finding her shoes under the bed each morning; but Tessa knew that they would be missing soon enough. Probably about the time something blew up and everybody looked at her again. Seriously, nobody died. You would think that people would appreciate a free fireworks show.

“Good morning Ms. Tessa.” The inn’s hafling housekeeper greeted her as she drifted across the wide open common.

“Good morning, Bethana. I think a bat flew into my room last night. Can you please make sure somebody feeds it today?” Tessa’s eyes drifted around the common room in one direction as her face turned in the other. “It was looking a little peckish and I would hate for it to be hungry.”

“A bat?” Bethana looked a bit startled. “I will see to it at once.”

“Make sure he’s comfortable too. I will want to talk to him when I get back this evening. Bats go so many interesting places, see so many interesting things.” Tessa gave an absent minded smile to Bethana as she grabbed a couple of biscuits, and apple, some cheese, and a light drink for the morning. She knew the elderly halfling would spend all day trying to figure out where the bat had gone and how it had gotten in the room in the first place. It had come in the window, of course. And it had flown out the same way just before Tessa had gotten up. But sending Bethana on a little harmless search of the inn would be good for her.

“Good morning, Tessa.” Laranys greeted her as Tessa slid into a seat. “Sleep well last night?”

“I think somebody tried to climb in my window again. Probably Nicu or one of his friends. Fortunately, I’ve been telling everybody that I’m in room seven. I hope they aren’t bothering Athos too much.” Laranys blinked looking at Tessa dumbfounded. “I’d tell them the number for Konnor’s room but I think he has changed rooms almost every night since we started staying here. We need to do something with your hair; that’s a dreadful look and you’re too pretty to be looking dreadful this early in the morning.”

“Buh…” Tessa spun Laranys’ chair around with some difficulty and whipped out a brush and comb while nibbling on some cheese. “Tessa, I don’t think we will have time for this.”

“Nonsense! You can’t go around saving the town while looking like some vagabond. People will start thinking you're me, and my reputation will be greatly improved. Can’t have that. Besides, you’ve seen Athos eat and he’s not even here yet. We’ve got at least ten minutes, maybe twelve.” Tessa pulled Laranys’ hair out from her cloak and began to brush it. “There won’t be time for makeup; but we’re going to be in a bunch of dank tunnels with a group of dusty old scholars. Nobody will mind.”

Laranys choked on a laugh, “Tessa, hehe, that’s rude.”

“Sometimes the truth is rude; what can I say.” Tessa began braiding Laranys’ hair in a tight circle around her head. “Good morning, Athos. You’d better grab some food before Laranys eats it all.”

Athos strolled past the table looking tired. “Good morning ladies.” He paused a moment as Tessa’s comment registered on him. “Are you ever serious, Tessa?”

“Every moment of my life; the rest of you should quit slacking off.” Tessa finished the braid in Laranys’ hair with amazing quickness and turned her back to the table, “You really should let me do a Dawnflower ankh around your left eye. It would look incredible.”

“Thank you, but no. I shall keep to my symbol here,” Laranys lifted the silver token of Sarenrae that hung around a long chain at her neck, “and I do not think I shall ever be brave enough to request your service. Your work looks beautiful, but very painful.”

“You get used to it; or you become a homicidal maniac.” Tessa smiled, “So far so good” then dug into her breakfast while watching out the window. Athos rejoined them at the table with a thump. “Who taught you to sit in a chair, a stone giant?” Athos looked at Tessa with some annoyance before digging into his massive plate of food.

“He certainly eats like a giant.” Laranys smiled through her hands as Athos’ gaze turned to her with the same annoyed look.

“Muscle requires fuel. I don’ have divine gifts and never could stick to books. Don’ mind those that have such skills though. Few people are more important that a healer or a shaman out on the Storval Rise.” Athos shoved a large piece of bread dripping with honey into his mouth as he spoke, “But such people usually need somebody like me to help keep ‘em safe.” His eyes darted up and down the table. “So where’s everybody else?”

“I think Caleb stayed at his parents’ home last night and I have not seen Qakisst or Konnor.” Laranys sipped on tea after she spoke.

“Qakisst snuck out last night and probably bunked in the back of Savah’s Armory; Caleb snuck out and probably slept with his boyfriend, Wolfie; and Konnor is probably just waking up from not having a hangover.”

“Wait, what? Did you say Caleb has a boyfriend? Why haven’t we met him yet? He doesn’t think we’ll look down on him or something; does he?” Athos seemed offended that anybody would think him judgmental.

“You have met him. Big dark haired beast of a guy; likes rabbit bones and followed us all the way up to Windsong Abby and back.” Laranys laughed at Tessa’s description of the wolf that sometimes stalked Caleb in the wilds like a half tamed friend.

“You’ve a wicked sense of humor, Tessa.” Athos looked to his plate and smirked. Tessa was lining up bits of bread and slices of apple on the table in front of her, ignoring him. While her focus was directed at the task in front of her, her attention was on Caleb and Qakisst entering the inn together. Savah’s armory was less than a ten minute walk from the Dragon, and Qakisst was a notoriously early riser, so Caleb’s little camp in the woods across the bridge could not be more than ten minutes from town. Tessa put checking it out on her to do list as the two sat down with their breakfast.

“The mayor has made arrangements for Quink, Parooh, Father Zantus, and Master Gandethus to meet us at the glassworks at nine bells. We should probably do a quick search of the tunnels to make sure we didn’t miss anything dangerous before we lead them down there. As soon as Konnor gets…” Caleb started as he realized that Konnor was sitting right next to him eating, “…done eating.”

“Morning, Caleb.” Konnor lifted his mask just enough to take a bite of cheese.

Qakisst looked up from his plate with a nervous look, “Um, guys?” Tessa turned to Laranys while studying Qakisst. “I have a few things I have to take care of. I hope you do not mind but I am going to have to catch up with you this afternoon.”

“Trolling around in the dark too much for you, Junior?” Tessa layered cheese and apple slices while continuing to not study Laranys.

“Yeah, we might need you to scope any magic stuff.” Athos looked sideways at Qakisst.

“You are going to have Master Gandethus and Father Zantus down there with you. Both are far more experienced with magic than I am. It is just for today. I will have my test spear done by this afternoon and I will meet up with you guys here.”

“No problem. There shouldn’t be anything dangerous anymore, and if there is, we can always regroup and bring reinforcements. If nothing else, we’ll have Konnor lock it in a closet.” Everybody laughed at Caleb’s joke.

As they finished breakfast Qakisst left to go find a new home. Tessa had caught hint that he was looking for a place to live; but could not understand why he would want a house. Why not a wagon and the open road? And why in the nine hells would he not just stay in the Dragon until Ameiko got tired of all of them? The boy was seriously weird.

The five of them arrived at the Glassworks at a little before eight bells to find Neider and some older guard watching the warehouse entrance to the building. Neider practically saluted the five of them as they entered the building. Tessa could see the smirk on the older guard’s face as he watched Neider fumbling with the door to let them in. She smirked as well. The party descended into the basement and around the storage areas. Caleb, good to his word, had them do a thorough search of the area before moving on to the tunnels. Tessa grew bored so she began drawing chalk outlines of goblin bodies on the ground and even against the walls.

“Tessa, what in the name of the gods are you doing?” Caleb watched the tattooed Tessa finishing a goblin outline seated against the wall just outside the room that connected to the tunnels.

“Enhancing your reputation for the ladies.” Tessa stood and walked into the tunnel. “Hey, it’s dark in here. Somebody might want to bring a light for Athos.”

Caleb spoiled the rest of Tessa’s fun by insisting that they hurry up and scout the tunnels before the Sandpoint Brain-trust arrived; so Tessa made herself busy by dusting for unusual chemicals or traps. It is amazing what you can do with a bit of white powder and a subtle shift in the wind. Nothing had disturbed the area since they had left yesterday. Tessa headed for the stairs telling Caleb, “Time to bring in the big brains so we can get on with our lives.”

The hand full of scholarly figures in Sandpoint had gathered at the Glassworks to be escorted into the tunnels beneath them. Lady Ameiko was with them and acknowledged that the Kaijitsu family had been aware of the tunnels for years, but not the ancient Thassilonian structure attached to them. She had been reluctant to admit that her great grandfather had discovered the tunnels when the Glassworks was first built and had used them to smuggle items in and out of Sandpoint. Her grandfather had found the lawless activity distasteful though, and had bricked up the area leading to the tunnels himself. Lonjiku had known of the tunnels, but had agreed with his father that they should remain sealed. When they were children both she and Tsuto had discovered the existence of the tunnels, but Ameiko had never attempted to explore them. Tsuto, it seemed, had found a way in and explored them in earnest. Unfortunately Ameiko knew of no maps to the tunnels, so Master Haladan, proprietor of the Curious Goblin book shop, had volunteered to map the facility as he and Master Gandethus studied the strange complex.

Though she had come to the glassworks to see them off; Lady Ameiko declined to join the group in the tunnels. She did not look well yet, and Tessa could understand why she might not want to venture into an abyss where somebody had tried to steal her freedom. The idea of being somebody’s prisoner was one of the few things that honestly disturbed Tessa.

Time dragged on as the group escorted Sandpoint’s elite scholars about the complex. Every new artifact and discovery so captivated Brodert Quink that he would insist on stopping to do a detailed study at each one. Each time the party had to insist that they move on as Master Chask Haladan sketched the layout of the building and recorded a basic list of findings. Tessa drifted from wall to wall, door, to door, stone to stone as the large group sloooowwwwllly moved through the catacombs. Seriously, was ol’ Brodert going to try to do an in depth study of each item presented? On the spot? ‘Great old one!’ Tessa thought to herself; catalog the crap and move the f%#& on! This is an initial field study, not a research project! “You know that none of this stuff is going any place any time soon, right Brodert?”

“Well yes, but we need to do a very thorough study of each…”

“Exactly right, ol’ bean. So you had better figure out where to start before you actually start.” Tessa berated the elderly scholar.

“I thought it best to study each as we go. There are so many fascinating pieces down here. We must take our time to go over each one in …” Tessa drifted away from ol’ Brodert as he knelt down for the umpteenth time just thirty feet from the statue of what he had said must me the representation of Runelord Alaznist, to check out a relief carving on the wall. Okay, that was cool and all, but what would he do when he got to the zombie pits where the group had fought the three armed goblin with the magic pig sticker? Tessa knew full well that the crazy old man would want to climb down each pit one at a time and catalog the dust motes still frozen to the now dead zombies. It had been bad enough that Brodert had been so fascinated with that thing from the statue that Qakisst had called a ranseur, which was a really stupid name for yet another type of knife on a pole. Can they not just call a spear and be done with it?

By 12 bells Tessa was ready to surrender to the rage within the funny well they had found in the dark temple when an idea occurred to her. “Hey Athos, what kind of water do you think was in that well to make those ghoulish creatures pop out of it?”

“Why would you ask me? I don’ have any idea about such things.” Athos looked dubiously at Tessa, but right behind him ol’ Brodert perked up and looked her way as an exasperated Ilsoari Gandethus and Chask Haladan smiled at her.

“What do you mean by a well? Certainly we are too close to sea level down here for there to be a functioning well.” Brodert shuffled around Athos to approach Tessa.

“I don’t think it is that type of well.” Tessa studied a fractured relief carving on the wall as she spoke. “It’s like a triangle cut into the floor, with bubbling orange water frothing around in it. The little demonic b@$+! was dropping her blood into the well when we first found her, yesterday. The drops of blood made those ghoulish looking things come crawling out of it.”

“Little demonic…” Chask Haladan paled a little.

“Oh you must show it to me now. Right away.” Brodert seemed to practically vibrate with excitement.

“Athos can show you the way.” Tessa winked at Athos, who rolled his eyes at the idea of becoming ol’ Brodert’s guide; but he led Brodert back toward the side hall that led to the temple complex.
Caleb walked up to Tessa, “There are a few other things he should see, Tessa. What are you doing?”

Quietly Tessa replied while scraping dust off of the relief onto a piece of sample paper. “The only really important thing is that still active hole in the floor. So unless you want to be down here long enough to become something Brodert will be interested in studying, I suggest we go see what he says about the bubbling brew while Konnor leads Chask around to map the place. They can catch up in a couple of minutes.” Tessa turned to follow Athos and Brodert. “Once they have a map, the town guard can babysit them down here.”

“Konnor, catch up to us as soon as Master Haladan has a basic map sketched out.” Caleb looked seriously annoyed at Tessa as she walked after Athos and Brodert. “Come on, Laranys. Tessa is right that the one dangerous thing down here is that well.” Ilsoari Gandethus and Father Zantas followed along with a somewhat bemused look.

“Was she ever a student of yours, Ilsoari?” Father Zantus smiled as the two trailed along.

“Thankfully no; the school would never have survived.”

The two elders followed Caleb and Laranys as they chased after Tessa. They finally caught up to her as she was standing in front of the temple door with Athos and Brodert trying to open the door.

“I had Konnor lock it to keep any curious guards out and any unexpected surprises in. We’ll have to wait for him to…”

“Poppycock.” Tessa dug out her tool kit and knelt in front of the door. Mystery Boy may be more of a thief than she was, but Tessa was a scholar and nothing stayed in her way long. It took her a moment to find it but she popped the wedge Konnor had used to jam the lock free and unlocked the door. Mystery Boy was more clever than she had previously thought. As she addressed Brodert she thought she should make an effort to test out Konnor’s limits sometime soon, “You might want to stand back, Brodert. We don’t know if anything else has crawled out of this well or not.”

“Oh my. Is it dangerous?” Brodert seemed a little alarmed.

“We would not be here if it wasn’t.” Athos raised his shield and brushed Brodert behind him. Once in place he signaled Tessa to open the door.

“You didn’t say please.” Tessa smiled at him.

“TESSA!” Caleb’s bark brought a broad grin to Tessa’s face as she pulled the door open. Athos struggled not to laugh even as he looked like wanted to strangle the tattooed Varisi.

The room glowed a faint and eerie greenish color through the now open door. Athos shifted forward to look around and saw nothing moving. He slipped into the room cautiously, shield first, then poked his head back out. “All clear.” The group moved into the room just as Konnor and Chask Haladan caught up.

“Hey! Who messed with my lock?” Konnor seemed nonplus that somebody would disturb his work.

“Not bad, Mystery Boy.” Tessa smiled up at him as she put her tool kit away. “Took Athos all of five minutes to open it.” Konnor rolled his eyes as he led Chask into the temple.

As the others inspected the temple room Tessa walked up the polluted water fount that was attached to the wall outside the temple. Pulling out an empty vile she carefully took yet another sample of the foul water from the fount, carefully capped it, and stored it for later testing. Then she strolled towards the temple door. She found Master Haladan standing in the door making sketches of the floor plan, carefully marking each statue, door, and wall.

“This place is fascinating, is it not?” Chask looked at Tessa as he spoke.

“It reminds me of uncle Jol’s summer palace. He lived in an old ruined dump too.” Tessa strolled into the temple past Haladan and yawned. She could hear Brodert and Ilsoari debating the origins of the well. Chask Haladan’s eyes widened at her comment.

“I must say. This is really fascinating. I believe that you have found a Runewell.”

“You know full well, Brodert, that the Runewells are just myth. One has never been discovered before.” Ilsoari did not look disbelieving at Brodert, more stunned by the possible revelation. Tessa studied a dust mote on the wall as she listened.

“That makes this discovery all the more fascinating and important.” Brodert turned to Athos and Caleb. “And you say some creature dripped her blood into the well and those pale white creatures came out of it?”

“Yes.” Athos and Caleb answered as one.

“I must see that!” Brodert began to pull up his sleeve as the party reacted with shock.

“Whoah there, Brodert! NO!” Caleb’s voice won out over the others as Tessa drifted up to the stage. “You can study the corpses over there.”

“No, no, no. If this is a Runewell, I must see it working. This is important.” Brodert’s insistence surprised even Tessa, though she noted that Ilsoari and Chask just shook their heads and Father Zantus stepped back from the dais. “We must understand how these things work so that we can deal with them in the future.”

“Look, I appreciate that Brodert; but we have no idea what this will do to you if you start dripping blood in it.” Caleb argued with Brodert and tried to move him away from the well.

“You said the creature, was it really a quasit? The quasit dripped blood into the pool and one of these creatures spawned from it; I don’t see how this would be any different.” Brodert pushed back more with his mind than his body as Caleb moved him back from the well.

“Brody is right.” Tessa stepped up to the well. “Somebody has to do it.”

“Now just a minute, Tessa.” Caleb looked from Tessa to Brodert.

“You do it.” Tessa looked at Caleb.

“What?”

“You… do… it.” Tessa pulled a vile out of her pack. “You do it and we’ll cover. Brodert and company can stand back there watching with Laranys playing guard.”

“Each drop only brought one out. And the light dimmed when the whatsit conjured one of these from it.” Athos stepped up to the dais as he commented. “Maybe that’s how we run it out of power. We exhaust it one at a time.”

“Yes, yes. Under controlled conditions where we can observe.” Brodert pushed back up onto the dais.

“No.” Caleb looked at Brodert.

“My boy, we simply must.” Brodert looked Caleb in the eyes.

“I get that, but you’re standing back there. Got it, Brodert? You’re my responsibility.” Caleb put a hand to Brodert’s chest. “These things aren’t gonna want to discuss the origins of Thassilon, trust me.”

“Uhm, I don’t know what good I will do.” Tessa saw the fear in Chask’s eyes.

“You go as well, Father Zantus. Dawnflower Laranys will manage any healing needs we have.” Ilsoari patted Father Zantus on the shoulder.

“No, I don’t think that is a…” Father Zantus objected to leaving most firmly.

“Master Gandethus is right, Father. The city can’t really do without you right now. We can manage.” Caleb looked out across the room and Father Zantus looked ready to fight if it was required.

“Father, I can manage.” Laranys took Father Zantus’ hand and smiled at him. “Take Master Haladan and go back up to the glassworks. We’ll be along shortly.” The Father looked ready to rebel, but finally relented and led Chask out of the room.

“Close the door. Whatever happens, nothing from this well can get out of this place.” Caleb stepped up to the well and pulled out his weapons, “Okay everybody. Gather around and let’s get ready.” Athos and Conner stepped up to surround the well as Tessa readied her crossbow just in case. Laranys stood back at the edge of the dais and readied her scimitar as well. Ilsoari and Brodert stood next to the closed door.

Caleb drew the tip of his finger over the blade of his kukri and sent a single drop of blood tumbling to the frothing waters of the Runewell. “Get ready!” The drop struck the water and it boiled with rage. The waters of the well angrily splashed out as a sin-spawned abomination began to climb from the well; even as the well dimmed further. As a group the three struck out at the creature, but its incomplete form absorbed the blows with little effect. The crazed dark soul of the creature struggled to get free, but once its form solidified the three fighting men cut it to pieces before it could go more than two steps. The well still frothed with power.

“The light dimmed. We must see how that works as more of these wrath creatures are formed.” Brodert yelled from the far side of the room. The party turned in disbelief to see Ilsoari staring at Brodert.

“He’s right.” Tessa shrugged. “Sometimes science sucks, boys. Get to work.”

Caleb rolled his eyes as Athos and Conner glared at Tessa. Caleb pressed his thumb on the small cut he had made moments ago, “Get ready for another.” The drop splashed into the well and it frothed and raged as another sinspawned creature crawled forth. With experience the trio held their attacks until the creature had crawled fully from the well then hacked it to pieces. It lashed out, but caused little damage. Once more the light from the well dimmed perceptibly.

“Again.” Tessa smiled as Caleb glowered at her. “Think of it as live combat training.

Again Caleb sent a drop of blood tumbling to the well, and once more the waters of the well frothed over. As the pale fleshed creature struggled forth the waters of wrath fell upon Athos’ leg and soaked through to the skin. Fire lit in his eyes and he shook with rage. Just as the creature from the well took full form Athos screamed and struck out at the beast. In seconds it fell, but something was wrong.

Athos did not stop at destroying the sinspawned beast. When it fell the big warrior lashed out at the next closest target, and Caleb found himself desperately parrying his friend’s weapons. “Well that was unexpected.” Tessa stepped back quickly and pulled a vial of holy water from her pouches. As Konnor struggled to disarm Athos, and Caleb desperately sought to dodge his blows Tessa sent the vial smashing into the inside of Athos’ shield splashing him with the blessed water. Athos did not slow down. “Damn! Laranys; cast a blessing, a protection, anything!”

“I have to touch him to do that!” Laranys backed away from the struggling trio.

“DO IT!” Caleb’s bellowing voice startled Laranys into action even as the pommel of Athos’ sword smashed into Caleb’s jaw. Just as Athos’ arm stretched out to bring the weapon back onto the stunned Caleb, Laranys grabbed the arm and called on the protections of Sarenrae.

“Blessed Dawnflower, free this one from the evil that takes him!”

Athos’ blade stopped just as it touched the tip of Caleb’s nose. “Wha, wha, my head.” Athos dropped his blade to the ground. He looked around in stunned panic and snarled, “I… can… still… feel it!” Athos shook with barely contained rage as the group pulled him further away from the Runewell.

“Laranys, how long will your blessing last?” Caleb looked Laranys in the eye with desperation in his own.

“No more than a minute. Get his weapons off of him!” Caleb grabbed at the buckle of Athos’ weapons belt. “Grab his shield!”

“What are you doing?” A panicked Athos began to struggle as the rage colored his thoughts.

“Protecting your from yourself.” Tessa shrugged and smiled as she held her crossbow. “If you get out of this alive; I’ll give you a free tat.”

Athos turned to Tessa with a terrified look that slowly turned to rage while Caleb and Konnor stripped the big man of weapons and yanked his body armor free just as they shoved him out of the temple and into the small storage closet next to the polluted fount out in the entry hall. “Guys, this isn’ funny!”

“Lock it Konnor.” Caleb looked past Konnor to Ilsoari and Brodert, both of whom had wide eyed looks of shock. Konnor locked the door just as Athos began to scream with primal rage.

The ancient Thassilonian door shook with thunder as Athos pounded against the inside. Caleb and Konnor threw themselves against the outside of the door desperately trying to hold it shut. The pounding seemed to go on forever, and Tessa could see Laranys softly crying as she stood in the center of the entry in front of Ilsoari and Brodert. Throughout the unrelenting pounding the periodic cracking of wood could be heard. When the pounding finally stopped everybody looked at the now cracked and fractured door with a start.

“Fifty-seven minutes.” Tessa stepped up to the door while Caleb and Konnor continued to brace it with their bodies. “Counting how long you were actually fighting him and how long it took to stuff him in the closet, it looks like the effect lasts right about an hour. Good to know.” Caleb looked with disbelief at Tessa as she leaned forward, “Hey big guy, did you earn a free tat or what?”

A soft whispered voice came from the door, “Can I come out now please.” The quiet despair in the voice shook even Tessa. “I just want to go home.”

Laranys rushed to the door, “Let him out!”

Tessa stepped to the side, “Are you sure?” Caleb and Konnor where working to open the door even then.

“LET HIM OUT!”

“I have to unlock it. Give me a second!” Konnor groused as he fumbled to find the right pick to open the lock.

As the door opened an exhausted and bloodied Athos staggered out. Wood splinters filled his hands and forearms along with cuts from where his gauntlets had shattered against the thick wooden door. The back of the door was dented and fractured with divots and even claw marks. Athos shook with exhaustion as blood ran down his harms.

“Blessed Dawnflower!” Laranys pushed the others aside and pulled Athos out to sit as she worked to undo the damage. After several minutes of pulling as much splinted wood from his hands and arms, Laranys called on Sarenrae’s blessings to heal the damage. Athos grunted slightly at the burning sensation in his hands then slumped against the wall.

“I can’t figure out if I should hate you all or love you for stopping me.” Athos struggled to move as he spoke, but Laranys pushed him back down.

“Stay here.” Laranys rose and looked at the two remaining experts, “Stay with him, please” as she strolled back into the temple. “Well come on. Let’s finish disarming this thing!”

Caleb grabbed up Athos’ shield as he moved, “Tessa, you can flick drops of blood from several feet away, right?”

“Sure, shall I scrape some off Athos or are you donating more to the cause?” Tessa followed Caleb into the room with Konnor right behind him.

Tessa, Caleb, and Konnor joined Laranys on the dais. With a brief discussion the four formulated their plan. Tessa would flip a small drop of blood from ten feet away, behind Athos’ shield, to keep the party safe from the bubbling waters of wrath, and then the group would rush in and destroy the created thing that came forth from the water. With perfect precision Tessa cast a single drop of blood into the well four more times. The first three a creature of wrath crawled forth and attempted to charge the assembled group, but quickly found itself overwhelmed. Each time the well grew dimmer. On the fourth drop, the well sputtered, foamed briefly, and then went dark.

“I think that’s that.” As Konnor spoke the four turned back to the entry to see Brodert with his notebook in hand furiously scribbling while he watched.

“There’s no stopping a man of science, Caleb.” Tessa patted her friend on the shoulder as he was leaning to pick up Athos’ sword and weapons belt from where they had fallen earlier.

When the party returned to the glassworks they found that more time had passed than they thought. It was well past three bells and all five of them were famished. Athos in particular felt weak with both hunger and exhaustion. They made their way to the Rusty Dragon where they helped Athos to a seat by the hearth and waved for one of the serving girls.

Just before five bells Qakisst finally caught up with them. He strolled into the Dragon with another big pointy stick in hand and strolled over to the table. He came to an abrupt stop when he saw Athos propped in the corner snoozing, his now battered gauntlets lying broken upon the table.

“Hey Junior; is that a new stick or are you just happy to see us?” Tessa seemed indifferent to Qakisst’s arrival; thought she paused from her discussion with a potential customer to make a little fun of him as he arrived.

“Hey Kisst, is that your new project you were working on?” Qakisst handed the new metal hafted boar spear to Caleb as he slid into his seat staring at Athos.

“What the heck happened to him? Was there a cave-in or something?” Qakisst’s concern showed clearly on his face as he looked about the table.

There was a long pause at the table before Laranys finally spoke up, “Well, it’s a little complicated.”

“The big guy over there was possessed by the Runewell of Wrath in the basement.” Tessa continued to show samples from her sketch book to her customer, who looked up at her statement with a start. All eyes at the table turned to Tessa in stunned amazement.

“He was WHAT?” Qakisst’s raised voice startled everybody in the common room.

“Now calm down, cousin. It all worked out okay.” Caleb’s reassurance made Tessa chuckle inside as the argument started between Qakisst and the others. Tessa paid it little attention as it waged back and forth for nearly 15 minutes until Qakisst won out in his insistence that they fill the diabolical well in with sand.

It was probably for the best, Tessa thought. Ol’ Brodert was going to be wandering around down there every chance he got, and a deranged and raging Brodert Quink would get himself hurt pretty quickly. While the others trudged off to the glassworks with a still fuming Qakisst, Tessa smiled, with tattoo nib in hand, and spoke to her latest customer, “You’ll feel a little stinging, but I image that you’ve such a brave young man that you won’t even notice.” She ran her hand over the young man’s shoulder and smiled as she stabbed the first drop of ink into his skin and watched the smile disappear from his face. They always thought they were so tough.

The Exchange

Athos, our GM, gave me pretty wide latitude to add NPC friends around Qakisst. I used this to create a rather extensive Viskalai family running the White Deer Inn. The GM also gave me a love interest that he has hinted came from his purusing the Runelords thread here on line. Qakisst's best friend does not seem to like that a certain Pixie Girl has taken an interest in her best buddy. And Qakisst learns that you should never fight a drunk blacksmith; especially when you're all of 5'7" and don't weigh more than 115 pounds. I did spend half a game session intentionally talking like I had a mouth full of dice (even though I didn't).

Burnt Offerings: Market Day:

Nightmares troubled Qakisst’s dreams. In the most bizarre of them there was a tall powerful woman that resembled the statue that they had found within the catacombs with holding the elaborate ranseur. The woman had been like liquid fire and she had spoken in a strange language he could not understand. In the dream she scoured his cloud top city of dreams with a fire so hot it burned even Qakisst. He awoke in a sweat and patted out the familiar little flames in his bed.

Qakisst cleaned up in his very own place for the first time in five years. Not since the Varisi-style wagon that he had inherited from Liandra had been destroyed in the Sandpoint fire had Qakisst has his own place. The stone cottage was small, but any cottage was considerably larger than the one room wagons that most Varisi traveled in, and much larger than the little corner of space Savah had carved out of her workshop for him. He reveled in the excess of so much personal space before finally dressing in his best clothes, with an actual white shirt under his vest. Wandering the streets with no shirt under his vest may impress the young ladies, but he figured that he should be on his best behavior today. He started his day with breakfast at the Dragon, as had become habit. He then took advantage of his habit of rising early to hit all the market stalls as early as possible.

Every Fireday was also market day, but the second Fireday of each month the caravans from Magnimar came through the small town. Every manner of goods from all across Varisia, and in some cases from as far away as the Keleshite Empire and legendary Tian could be available on a Grand Market day. No market in Varisia would ever hold a candle to the splendor of the Keleshite bazaar in Katheer, where Qakisst had lived as a slave for 43 years. Here he was free to shop for himself. Now that he finally had his own place to keep, he took full advantage of what was available.

Most of the Varisi traders were familiar to Qakisst. They had all come to know Cousin Kisst, Liandra’s adopted boy, even if he did not know them; and he spent much of the early morning renewing friendships or making new ones as he was inspecting their wares. The small handful of non-Varisi traders quickly learned that Qakisst was Varisipen, and not simply another mark for trade. When he had bought the things that he needed for his new house, and a few things he did not, Qakisst left the market for a bit to deliver his new possessions to his small cottage. The day was long, still warm despite the encroaching autumn weather, and Qakisst was quite content.

Midway through the day, he received a note from Grandmother Niska to meet her friend Ragnus in response to his request that she help him find somebody that could manage a favor for him. Qakisst, in the wake of the tragedies befalling the Lonjiku family had decided to quietly, and secretly, mark the funeral of Lonjiku Kaijitsu in a way that would transform the now dead patriarch of that family from the cranky old man he had become known as into a wonderful patron for Sandpoint. Despite his many flaws, and the party had come to realize that he had many, Lonjiku and his family had done a great deal for Sandpoint. Products created by the Kaijitsu Glassworks were famous as far away as Cheliax, and even known in Absalom, though Qakisst did not realize this. The Kaijitsu family business brought considerable wealth into the small town that had helped pay for the construction of Sandpoint’s Cathedral as well as provide innumerable jobs to the region. The tragic death of the Glassworks owner and most of his employees was a far more terrible blow to the town that most yet realized. Qakisst hoped that highlighting the passing of Lonjiku would spur the town toward efforts to keep the great factory open and even put a little mystique to its owner’s passing that would outshine the dark tragedies that had conspired to bring the Patriarch low. In effect, Qakisst was trying to make a saint out of a sinner in the hopes that Sandpoint would turn its focus to the positive.

In his mind, it was a simple thing. In reality it was something far more complex; if not impossible. He needed a druid skilled enough to cast from the third circle of magics, one that could spur plant life to grow even when out of season, and one that would keep secret what was going on. He had asked the Varisi matriarch in Sandpoint if she knew of anybody near that could perform such a miracle quietly and discretely. Qakisst was willing to pay the considerable sum required without thought. She and her friend Ragnus had apparently found him one. But when Qakisst, followed by Laranys, arrived at the Dragon at midday as instructed the common room had been deserted. A scraggly dog rested by the banked coals of the hearth watching them as the two ordered a bite for lunch while they waited.

“I told you that you really do not need to keep me company today.” Qakisst took a bite from a slice of apple as he looked about the common room.

“I have seen more than enough market days in Absalom to know what to expect, and I have finished any shopping I might need to do. Besides, you act like keeping the town safe is entirely upon your shoulders. Since Sheriff Hemlock left for Magnimar you have been rushing around trying to do everything for everybody. Take a break, Qakisst. The whole town knows where to find you if they need you.” Laranys nibbled on an apple slice as she continued. “Some people are worried this will all go to your head.”

“No need to worry about that.”

“Are you so sure?”

“M’Lady Laranys, two weeks ago fully two thirds of this town would not give me the time of day, and half of those would not have called for the guard if I were laying in the gutters dying. Ah, ah, ah!” Qakisst prevented the young Dawnflower from interrupting, “I am not paranoid. I do not believe that people are out to get me; they just did not like me. AND, it is not because they dislike me; it is because they dislike those who are different from themselves. How I have always been treated is still better than how many would treat the felborn, but not by much. And only because so many people have gone to great lengths to teach everybody here that there are no demons or devils lurking about in my family history.”

“Then why try so hard to be seen doing so much? A moment of fame is as fleeting as fire.”

“Nice one. Good fire reference.” Qakisst waved his fingers in the air allowing the elemental fire within him to lick across each finger.

“Hold on!” Laranys seemed ready to take offense at the implication she had meant insult but Qakisst calmed her.

“No, really. That was one of the better references to fire I have heard. Actually a natural expression. I think I shall use it myself. But how many of those do you think I hear in a week? Even now, when we are Sandpoint’s darling heroes?” The scruffy dog moved to sit beside Qakisst’s chair unnoticed by the quarreling pair.

“You are hardly being fair.”

“What was the first thing you asked me? The very first thing you said when we met, other than your name. Do you remember?”

“Uh… I made some comment about Konnor being an eager fellow.”

“Hrmm... Yeah, you did. I forgot about that. But after that, after I introduced myself and welcomed you to Sandpoint. What did you ask me?”

“I don’t remember! What does that matter?”

“It matters very much.” Qakisst felt a little cruel, but he knew Laranys was as blind to it as every other full human. “Because you asked me what I was. You said, ‘Acolyte Laranys, Dawnflower of Sarenrae.’ As you greeted me. Then you asked, ‘You are ifrit, correct?’ as if it were not obvious to everybody that sees these big horns sticking out of my head that I am planes-touched.” Before Laranys could interject he continued, “But it is not exactly obvious, is it? You asked if I was ifrit because if I was not, then I was felborn. By instinct and training, without a thought, you checked for my place in the pecking order of life. You made sure to treat me per my station without even thinking about how you have been taught to do so automatically.” Qakisst’s smile took some of the sting out of his words, yet Qakisst could tell she was still insulted at the implication.

“I did no… No. I would never do…” Though Laranys seemed indignant; Qakisst cut her off with a soft voice.

“Then why did you need to ask? Why would what I am matter compared to who I am?” Qakisst’s voice was pleasant and he smiled at his friend even as he poked her mental defenses.

Laranys stared at her youthful looking companion trying to mouth a reply that would be more acceptable than the truth; until a voice startled both from beside the table, “To the left, boy. Behind my ear.”

Qakisst jerked his hand away from where he had, until a moment ago, been unconsciously scratching the scruffy dog that had sat beside him. In its place sat a scruffy, unwashed dwarf with unkempt hair and beard. Qakisst blinked a moment teetering in his chair to keep from falling over.

“Damn boy, why did you stop?” The dwarf jumped to his feet with a big wicked grin on his face.

“Sandpoint seems determined to surprise me constantly.” Laranys jumped at the chance to get away from the seriousness of the previous conversation.

“RAGNUS! Gah, Ne yapıyorsun? What are you doing listening in on private conversations?” Qakisst struggled to keep his chair from tipping until the scruffy dwarf grabbed his seat and pulled it right.

“Ye’r in a pub, kid. There are no private conversations in the common room. And I was learning. Tis what listening is for.”

“Um… yeah; I should remember that. So…” Qakisst glanced at Laranys for a moment, “…can you help with what Grandmother told you that I am hoping to do?”

“It is possible.” Ragnus pulled himself up into a chair. “All things are possible when your heart is in the right place. Where is your heart, Mr. Vishtani?”

“I hope in the right place. Um,… can I get you anything while we talk?”

“Not necessary, but thank you. Continue though, if you please. Why do you want us to do this thing?” Ragnus smiled at Laranys.

“Do I need to leave?”

“No, please. I would rather you stay now; if you can keep a secret.” Qakisst patted Laranys’ arm to encourage her continued presence then turned to Ragnus, “Okay, see… The way I figure it the Kaijitsu family has done quite a bit for Sandpoint. But considering the rather frightening events of the last five years all anybody is going to remember is the bad times. That image is going to taint everything going forward. Lonjiku was not a great guy. In fact we all know he could be downright cruel at times, but I do not think he was a bad man. Not deep down. And Lady Ameiko has been really good to all of us. We kind of owe her, and the town owes a lot to the Kaijitsu family."

Qakisst paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, “Those that knew him will know the truth, but for Sandpoint the name Kaijitsu should be a good thing. Putting a little blessing on the Kaijitsu holdings on the day of his funeral creates a sign. A sign that from these tragic events good things are going to come. In a way, I want a divine blessing that everybody can see.”

“That is quite a lot to ask, Mr. Vishtani.”

“Sandpoint needs something positive. Something to help push people forward; create a positive atmosphere; a little hope.” Qakisst looked out the window of the Dragon’s common room.

“And you do not want anybody to know you are involved in this?” Ragnus looked dubiously at Qakisst. “You don’ have any selfish reasons to want to impress the Kaijitsu family or the people of Sandpoint?”

“If anybody finds out that I thought of it, they would just think I had ulterior motives. No. Nobody should know who did it, or why. Completely secret.”

Laranys looked at the clean cut Qakisst and the scruffy druid Ragnus, “This is Sandpoint. There are no secrets here, Qakisst. You told me that yourself.”

Qakisst looked around the empty common room again, “Maybe we can have just one.”

“Yer not as thick or self-absorbed as most humans, boy. I’ll do it.”

Qakisst beamed with excitement, “You will?” He reached for his pouch. He had tucked the extra money required to pay for the magics he knew were needed. Divine magics beyond his scope and learning.

Ragnus held up his hand, “For a favor.” Qakisst paused at Ragnus’s words.

“A favor? If I can I will, but what favor?”

“You lot have gotten pretty handy at dealing with the unknown. I have a friend that needs somebody quite capable to investigate some strange occurrences to the east. Strange tracks, sightings of dark and foul things. Skeletal creatures wandering in the forests along the coast road shortly before you get to the Nettles. Rumors of a necromancer building a damned and be-damned force for no good.” Ragnus looked around the room himself, “Something rumor has it that you and your companions might be interested in dealing with anyway.”

“Done.” Laranys’ quick answer to the favor directed at Qakisst startled him.

“What? Do you not think we should ask the others before you promise them to a job?” Qakisst blinked at Laranys still surprised by her quick answer.

“Remember the robe we found in Father Tobyn’s tomb? The skeletal creature we found there as well? We’ve been looking for a necromancer, and it seems that Ragnus’ friend has found it for us.”

“Very well. Just let me know when you will be heading out and I will let Silvanos know that you are coming.” Ragnus dropped from his chair to the floor and tapped the side of his big nose, “Now, I have a bit of nosing around town yet to do. You will know how to find me easy enough.” Ragnus’s form turned fluid for a moment and in his place the scruffy dog wagged his tail and padded for the door.

Qakisst declined to return to the earlier conversation, to Laranys’ relief. He hoped he had not bruised the young Dawnflower’s ego too much. Qakisst was not sure why he had been so bold with her about his feelings, but he liked Laranys. He wanted her to understand; to maybe see the real him inside this otherworldly flesh that could be so wonderful to have, yet a prison all the same.

Melancholy. That is what Liandra would call his mood. Yet as he left the Dragon in the early afternoon and wandered the Market Square he was happy. He felt like somebody. He felt good.

Laranys bade him a good day and headed up to the Cathedral to work on some of her own tasks. Qakisst made his way up and down the various streets of the town being friendly and waving to the many residents. Most waved back. As he returned to Market Square however, he heard a disturbance. An argument had broken out between one of the merchants selling armor and equipment and one of Sandpoint’s own. Just as the town had a weapon smith in Savah Bevaniky, it had an armor smith in Das Korvut. Master Korvut was taking exception to the merchant’s quality and pricing.

When Qakisst had first moved to Sandpoint his Mother’s friend Koya Mvashti had given them a tour of the town. The first place that had caught Qakisst’s attention had been Master Korvut’s armory. He had spent much of his early youth as a slave apprenticed to his Master’s blacksmith and the ring of a hammer on metal had an odd comfort to it that he could never explain. Qakisst had fully intended to try and apprentice himself to Master Korvut when he finished his studies at the Turandarok; but the Troubles that had taken Qakisst’s mother from him had cost Master Korvut even more. He had lost a wife and child to the Chopper’s rampage; and the loss had nearly destroyed him. As Qakisst had come of age to begin his apprenticeship Master Korvut had turned to the bottle to cope with his loss. Yet even as Qakisst had instead apprenticed himself to Savah he never lost his respect for the man he would have gladly trained with.

With this respect in mind, and knowing Master Korvut’s problems with alcohol, Qakisst rushed forward to defuse the situation exactly as he thought Sheriff Hemlock would. “Master Korvut, please. A moment if you would. Let me buy you a drink and you can go over any issue…”
Master Korvut turned and screamed at Qakisst, “I’ve awlreedy had a drinnk!”

“Please, Master Korvut…”

“DOn’ yeu Masshter Korvuut mmmeE. DAAammn’d foooolls thin’ yer heroes?”

“There is no need to cause a…”

“WHERE WERE YEU WHEN THEY NEEDID YEU!!!”

All the doubt, fear, and uncertainty collided with the buried loss Qakisst held inside. Where had he been when Simon Korvut and his mother had died? He had been lying sleepless and terrified under the bunk where his mother would die days later; Chopper’s last chosen victim. The last words of Liandra Vishtani, not even spoken but sent to him by magic flooded his mind, ‘Don’t cry; I love you my heart-son, be brave, be free.’ The primal scream was heard in every corner of Sandpoint when the young ifrit’s closed fist connected with Master Korvut’s face. “Seni orospu çocuğu!”

The fight did not last long. Caleb had heard the commotion between Master Korvut and the merchant and had already been making his way toward the merchant’s stall. He arrived even as several guards where desperately trying to pry the two enraged combatants apart and did what few people would ever dare do. Caleb grabbed Qakisst by the horns and yanked his friend free of the conflict and threw him to the ground, “Kisst, what are you doing!?!”

His anger flagged when he saw his young friend’s face. Tears flooded the enraged Qakisst’s eyes as he scampered to his feet. Unlike the rest of Sandpoint’s heroes, Caleb had known Qakisst before the Troubles. He remembered the strange boy from school that had endured endless abuse when he first arrived in Sandpoint without losing his temper; and could see the inconsolable loss and pain that poured forth in a flood of emotion from that still childlike face. Before Qakisst could charge back at the now restrained Master Korvut Caleb shouldered him aside and pulled him close, “Cousin Kisst!” His name spoken with the Varisi affection hit Qakisst like ice water. The Varisi words that followed cut through the last of the rage, “Go home Cousin. He is not worth it.” As he turned away Qakisst could hear Caleb shouting at the town watch, “Take him home. Make sure he stays their till he’s sober; and clear his damned cabinets of any alcohol while you do so!”

Tears still streaming down his face Qakisst backed away from Caleb. He was embarrassed, angry, ashamed, and felt hollow inside. The sudden accusation that he should have stopped Chopper burned so harshly because it rang so true in his own mind. Five years of pent up frustration nearly overwhelmed Qakisst and fire licked across the surface of his fingertips violently. The surrounding crowd backed away as he turned and stomped out of the market square.

It was several minutes before his jaw relaxed enough that Qakisst could even draw in a great gulp of air. With that air came sobs of pent up grief. It had been over five years and the feeling of loss was just as great. The fast pace at which he had left Market Square quickly brought him up Main Street to the north face overlooking Junker’s Cove. Qakisst dropped into the grass to sit overlooking the cove just off the road and let himself cry. It was some time before he realized that he was not alone. Slowly lifting his head he looked to his left and right.

The unlikely pair of Korva Viskalai to his left and Laure Vieskin to his right had sat beside him at some point. “Well thish ish awkvard.” Qakisst raised his hand to wipe his nose and grimaced in pain, “Owww.”

Laure handed him a kerchief, “Here. Wipe your nose carefully. There’s quite a bit of blood.”

“Wait, no. You’ll get blood all over that.” Korva seemed annoyed at Laure’s presence but could not say so without being rude. The idea that any of the Pixie girls would be friends with Qakisst offended her.

“It’s okay, I have others.”

“Noo, I don’ vant to rui… Oww!” Laure had taken matters into her own hands and began cleaning the blood from Qakisst’s face.

“Hey! Laure he’s not a… a…”

“Customer?” Qakisst and Korva looked at the Pixie employee somewhat stunned.

“I was going to say ‘baby’.” Korva scowled at Laure.

Laure ignored the obvious attempt by Korva to cover her thoughts, “All men are babies; trust me on that, Korva.” Laure’s attempt at humor fell flat, “Come on Korva! I make my own hours, get to pick and choose my customers, and we cannot all be lucky enough to live in the most beautiful inn in Sandpoint.” She glared at Korva as she continued to check out the swelling in Qakisst’s left eye, “I am not some evil money grubber out for a score.”

“OWW!”

“Sorry, Q. Nose is not broken, but you are going to look like a gnome for a few days.” Looking back up at Korva, “Do not give me that pity look either, Korva. I could still be stuck in temple causing Father Zantus all kinds of trouble, or some abused baby factory out on a farm someplace with no hope of ever going anywhere or doing anything. More than half the young farm girls around here are betrothed to old trolls before they are 15 by parents that cannot afford to keep feeding them anymore.”

“Can I habe some peacse and quied vhile Ay zit here bleeding outh? Yeu two coud go over to the guardhouthe and vork this out on the pellth.” Qakisst tried to take the kerchief from Laure, but she would not let him.

“Only when you tell us why you punched ol’ Korvut in the mouth.”

“You did what?” Korva leaned back stunned, “You did not punch Das Korvut!”

“I did” “He did.”

“OW!” Qakisst tried to pull away from Laure’s grip, “Not so rough!”

With a wicked grin Laure locked eyes with Qakisst, “The way you laid into Das I thought you liked it rough.” Korva snorted while Qakisst tried desperately not to choke; which brought another groan of pain from him. “Anyway, since you missed the excitement Korva; ol’ Das was arguing rather loudly and rudely with one of the merchants from Magnimar. Q here tried to politely intervene, or so I was told after the fact. I did not see what was going on until I heard that scream. That is quite a set of lungs you got on you, Sweetie.” Qakisst flushed a deep maroon, but he wasn’t sure if it was the memory or Laure’s flirting that embarrassed him so much. “Anyway, the whole of market square turns all at once thinking the Sandpoint Devil itself has just appeared only to see Q here lay into ol’ Das. It was a pretty good punch too,…” Qakisst dropped his face into his hands and groaned, “…except that Das was so drunk he hardly realized he had been punched; plus he has been kicked in the head by more than one mule already.”

“Qakisst Vishtani?!?”

“Oh let him be, Korva. No doubt ol’ Das deserved it.”

“No he didn’t.”

“What?!?” Both girls looked a bit stunned at the admission.

“Noe, he did not dethserve it.”

“Come on Q. You do not pop your cork for nothing. She was always the one with the temper.” Laure nodded toward Korva.

“What?”

“Come on Korva, you got into more fights than he ever did in school.”

“I…”

Laure cut Korva off, “…have the fight record at Turandarok. Most fights, most wins, most days in detention.” Laure smiled at Korva, “All the girls wished they were you, Korva. Toughest girl in school; and you had the hottest boyfriend, or so we all thought. The whole school was sure you two were going to be a couple one day. It startled a lot of us when you snatched up Pavo a couple of years after school.” Korva giggled nervously; which brought a weak smile to Qakisst followed by a grimace of pain. “Now, before you think you have gotten out of an explanation. What did ol’ Das say that set you to explode like that?”

Korva took Qakisst’s hand, “Come on Kisst. What could be that bad?”

“He ashked where I vas when Simon died.” Both girls looked confused for a moment before the realization began to sink in.

“You sure he didn’t deserve it, Q?” “How dare he?” They babbled over each other for nearly a minute trying to convince Qakisst that Das had deserved to get punched.

“Stop.” The two continued. “I thaid, STOP!” There was no rage, but Qakisst’s raised voice cut the two off. “He wath drunk. And he ith still angrie. I vould be too if thome madman took the motht important thing in the vorld avay from me.”

“But Kisst? Chopper did take the most import…” Qakisst’s finger to her lips cut Korva off.

With tears in his eyes the young man looked at her, “And that is vhy I thhould have known better.” Qakisst stood up, looked at the bloody kerchief in his hand, then at both women, “I vill talk to you lather Korva. Laure, I… uh, vill get you a new kercthief vhen I get a chanthe.”

“It’s a gift, Q. I have plenty of favors I have no care for already.” Qakisst smiled as best he could through a fat lip and turned up the street heading for Savah’s.

“I am so in love.”

“You stay away from him, Laure Vieskin.”

“Not on your life, Korva.”

“Slut.”

“Practice makes perfect.” Korva glared at the grinning Laure.

The Exchange

Market day proved to be rather long, and the long expected appearance of the Vinder sisters finally came. Those of us that had been residents of Sandpoint prior to the game beginning had a list of notable NPCs that we were friends with or at least familiar with. SO Caleb and Qakisst knew what was up, though Qakisst had already wandered off and didn't get to experience the joys first hand of everybody's favorite Vinder.

Burnt Offerings: R.O.U.S.:

‘How do Sheriff Hemlock and Aunt Kendra do this every day? Animals are so much easier to deal with than people.’ With the town guard’s help, Caleb had managed to clear the crowd that had formed during the fight between Qakisst and Das Korvut. Several people had been cheering on the brawling pair like it was some damned sport. Thankfully, Qakisst left on his own, while a pair of guardsmen helped the inebriated smith back to his home with little trouble. Das was drunk often enough and prone to fighting when in a sour mood, but Qakisst was neither a drunk nor a brawler. Something was not right.

Thankfully, in a town like Sandpoint, small brawls like this were common enough that the market was back in order before long. As Caleb listened to the crowd, he overheard more than a couple conversations about Qakisst attacking the master smith. He hoped this would not lead to too much trouble for his old friend. He saw Athos testing bows and swords from one of the weapon traders and waved to the big man. “Find anything worthwhile?” Caleb inquired.

“Nothing better than my magical blade, but this smith does good work. Maybe I’ll get a hammer in case we run into skeletons again.”

“Good plan. I’ll see you later at the Dragon.” Caleb slapped the big man on the shoulder and continued on around the market.

Caleb poked through the magical wares one trader was displaying as he replayed the incident of the afternoon in his head. None of it made sense. After finding an amulet that toughened his skin against attacks, Caleb decided he had been seen around town enough for one day. It was getting close to dinner and he knew that the best way to discover what caused the fight would be to talk to Qakisst. Taking a moment to think, Caleb figured the Dragon wasa likely place to find him tonight. The young ifrit would have to eat eventually and free food is a powerful incentive. Caleb could also get his own meal.

When Caleb arrived at the Dragon he was not surprised to see most of the group already at their customary table. He joined Athos, Laranys, and Konnor just as their food arrived. Tessa was busy trying to get another young man to purchase one of her tattoos. “Anyone seen cousin Kisst this evening?” Caleb asked as he motioned to the serving girl setting the other’s plates to bring him one too.

“Not since he got into that fight with the big smith earlier at the market.” Konnor responded and slipped a bite of food under his mask while reaching for his ale.

“Junior did what?” Tessa turned to the group, momentarily interrupted from her latest tattoo recipient.

“Yup, he punched the old smith square in the face. Not a bad punch either for a little guy.” Athos chuckled, amused at the turn of events.

“I saw; but we’re supposed to be on our best behavior while the sheriff is out of town.” Caleb ran his hand across his face in frustration.

The group settled into casual conversation about the day. Caleb was starting to wonder if he should head up to Savah’s or maybe the White Deer to continue his search when Qakisst finally entered the Dragon along with a member of the guard. Qakisst walked over to a table near the door with the young guardsman dressed in the livery of a guard apprentice; possibly the sheriff’s nephew. Caleb was pretty sure the young guard trainee’s name was Vachedi, but he really only knew Vach as Korva’s younger brother. Even from here, he could see that Qakisst had not fared well in his earlier fight.

“Alright, I’m going to go collect our bruised firelord before he can find any more trouble.” Caleb winked at the others as he got up from the table.

“Tell Junior to be good or I’ll ground him for a week!” Tessa yelled over her shoulder before turning back to her customer. “Now did you want this on your arm or your back?”

Caleb was winding his way from the back of the common room to where Qakisst and Vach were sitting when Qakisst raised his voice, “EY SZCrewed ufpp! Ophay!” The tables near Qakisst turned toward him quietly as the current bard stopped playing. “Ey leit a drunq ol’ guye geth under mey sckin. Aukted more leyke a babey than a mann.” Qakisst stopped and looked around as Caleb realized how quiet the normally rowdy Dragon had become. “Pwrobleim?” Most of the other tables turned back to their own business.

“No problem KaKissst!” A smug Banny Harker smiled and laughed. “I enjoyed the show earlier today.” Banny’s grin reflected his dislike for Qakisst.

Vach said something to Qakisst that Caleb could not hear as he slipped up to Banny’s table. Whatever it was, Caleb was not about to let a loudmouth like Banny provoke Qakisst into two fights in the same day.

“Don’t expect your next fight will be with a drunk old man, Kakissst.” Banny snarled, drawing laughter from the rest of his table. As the rowdy troublemakers cheered Banny on Caleb passed behind the drunken braggart and slipped his foot around the leg of the chair. A hard pull yanked the chair out from under Banny dropping his chin onto the table and laying him out flat on the floor. Caleb spun the chair around with his foot and sat next to the stunned drunk.

“Sweet Desna, are you okay, Banny?” Katrine Vinder slipped from her chair to kneel beside Banny. “Oh my sweet baby, your lip is bleeding.” Caelb knew that the elder Vinder daughter was known to be romantically involved with Banny, despite her father’s intense disapproval.

“Bu…” Banny sputtered through his bleeding lip and shook his head. “…wha’ happened?”

“You seem to have slipped after your mouth got away from you, Banny.” Caleb leaned down over the other man to look him in the eye as he whispered, “See that it doesn’ happen again.” Turning to the young woman, Caleb spoke more clearly. “You might want to take him home now, Katrine. I think he’s had enough tonight.” The scowl on Caleb’s face showed his displeasure to both Katrine and Banny.

“Don’t think that just because the mayor is your…” Banny’s drunken retort was interrupted when a massive gloved hand gripped him by the jaw and lifted him from the ground like a rag doll before setting him to his feet.

“I would hate to have to charge you with drunk and disorderly tonight, Banny. It will be very painful if I have to do that. Go home.” The massive Vachedi scowled as he released the slightly pale Banny Harker.

Katrine tugged at Banny’s arm as he looked back and forth between Vach and Caleb, “Come on, Banny. I don’ want trouble that daddy will hear about.” Banny glared at the two men as he allowed Katrine to pull him toward the door. The crowd around them roared with laughter.

Lady Ameiko strolled past the table giving both Caleb and Vach a sour look, “Need I remind the two of you that this is my inn? I decide who gets knocked on their asses and I get to decide who gets sent home on a leash.” Caleb scratched his head in embarrassment at having offended Ameiko, even if Banny deserved it. The younger Vach blushed at the dressing down the innkeeper handed him. Qakisst turned to look anywhere but where the Tian woman stood. “And you take better care of yourself Qakisst Vishtani. I do not dance with drunken brawlers.” Qakisst turned a deep maroon as Ameiko winked at them and placed three mugs on the table next to Qakisst before she strolled off.

“I haven’ seen you dance with her yet, cousin.” Caleb chuckled as the exotic owner of the Dragon sauntered away.

“Uhbb.” Music filled the room once more as the bard resumed playing. Qakisst gripped the ale placed before him and drank deeply.

“Bring your young friend and come join us, Kisst. I promised Tessa I’d try to keep you out of trouble for the rest of the evening.” Caleb motioned to the big table next to the hearth at the back of the common room where the rest of Sandpoint’s heroes were seated.

Qakisst put his hand on Vach’s shoulder as he got up. “Combe onn. Youb habd your ffun ab mie espenshe. Combe meet eferybodie zo I doh not die ov embarashment awlone.”

“I could not.” The young guardsman was stone-faced and Caleb could not tell if he was embarrassed or offended somehow.

“Don you geth all tonugue tiedd on me Fvach. Tpheye are jusst peoble. Well, otpher thaan Konnor who ish jusht veird.” Qakisst began leading the way back to the table.

“Think it would work if I told him Lady Kaijitsu is just people too?” Vach commented to Caleb as they followed, but Caleb just shook his head.

“Hewy evewybothy.” Qakisst waved at the seated group to get their attention, “Vach, yeu awlreathy know Kalebb; thish is Dawnphlower Laraniffs, the big guy here is Atphos, that is Teshsa ovfer tphere, and nobothy hash evper met Konnor becaushe he von’t taeke offf hish massk.” Caleb could somehow tell Konnor was scowling under his mask.

Qakisst motioned to the young Shoanti man, “Everiebothy, thish is my friend Vach.”

The party replied greetings to Vach as the three of them got settled. Tessa scowled at Qakisst. “What happened to your face?” Tessa’s observation focused the attention directly on Qakisst. “It is really messing up the way you talk. Your Kelish accent is coming through big time.”

“Oh my sweet goddess!?!” Laranys gasped once she finally found her voice, “Are you okay, Qakisst?” Qakisst gave a nod.

“Das Korvut happened to his face. And it was not entirely undeserved; was it Kisst?” Caleb tried to sound sympathetic to his battered friend. He switched to the Varisi tongue, “Cousin, I think we deserve an explanation.”

Qakisst replied in the common Taldan tongue that most people used, “I shcrewed up, and I vill fix it. Oskay? Laranie no. Leafve it.” Qakisst politely fended off the young cleric’s attempt to examine his bruises.

“But that must hurt.” She renewed her efforts until Qakisst gripped her hands.

“Nobothy healsh me unthil somebothy healsh Masthter Korvuth. Underthtand?” Laranys nodded. As Qakisst released her hands he turned to everybody, “I need thome down thime thonight. Nobothy ish goink to vant to danshe vith me anyvay.”

Athos chuckled, “You haven’t looked behind you lately.”

Caleb turned and saw a small group of women watching Qakisst with concerned smiles.

“Yeah, vow. Thtill takink a night off. Vach, you are my shtandin. I vill meet you all here in fthe mornink, first think.” Qakisst tried to smile, nodded to his friends, then slipped up to the bar to speak to Bethana.

As Qakisst left, Tessa mumbled just loud enough for the others to hear, “Wow, cousin Kisst is a really lousy liar.”

“What do you think he’s really doing first thing in the morning?” Caleb turned to Tessa after watching Qakisst leave.

“Oh, something noble that’ll probably end up getting him killed. Oh! Think they’ll let me decorate his memorial?” Tessa set to sketching out ideas on a random scrap of paper. “Flowers are too easy. I’ll have to make it something really grand.”

“Sweet barleybrew! Who is that?” Konnor’s sudden outburst startled Caleb as he followed Konnor’s gaze to a tall red-haired woman walking into the Dragon. Caleb recognized Katrine Vinder’s younger sister Shayliss. The overly-competitive younger Vinder girl was known to be hunting for a suitably famous or wealthy man to compete with Katrine’s choice of Banny Harker. Banny may be an ass, but he was a successful ass. He and Ibor Thorn ran the Scarnetti family’s lumber mill in Sandpoint.

“That’s Shayliss, daughter of ol’ Man Vinder who runs the general store. I’d leave this one be, Konnor.” Caleb not only knew that Shayliss had a bit of a reputation as a trouble-seeker, but he also knew that her father had a short temper and an unrivaled protective streak. Shayliss looked in the direction of Sandpoint’s heroes and smiled in a way that sent a chill down Caleb’s spine.

“Don’t worry about it. I know how to handle the ladies.” Konnor waved Shayliss over to their table smiling. Tessa rolled her eyes with exasperation.

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over town for you.” Shayliss sat down next to Konnor and leaned toward him showing off her low-cut dress. “I need help from a hero like you. Daddy won’t believe me but there are the biggest rats down in the basement. I saw one that was almost the size of a goblin!”

“Maybe you should just let your father handle the rats, Shayliss. I’m sure he can handle this easily enough.” Caleb tried to figure out how to discourage what he knew was about to become a problem.

“Daddy is too distracted by Katrine. Gods only know what she and Banny are up to.” Caleb fought not to laugh, knowing Katrine had just left with Banny, leaving Konnor to Shayliss’ wiles. “She’s always getting into trouble and Daddy is letting it distract him.” Shayliss batted her eyes back at Konnor.

“I’m sure I could help you with that. Giant rats are nothing compared to what we’ve already handled.” Konnor’s bragging annoyed Caleb enough that he decided to leave the overly eager masked man to his fate.

“I’ve always wanted to see a rat the size of a goblin. Count me in!” Tessa’s interjection surprised Caleb and caused Shayliss to flinch a little.

“No, I’m sure Konnor will be more than man enough to handle them for me. There’s no need to trouble yourself.” Shayliss smiled at Tessa, showing too many teeth. Her expression reminded Caleb of a snarling cat.

“Oh no, it’s no trouble at all. Let me just get my things together. I’m sure I have something in here for rats.” Tessa began digging through her bag while smiling at Shayliss with complete innocence.

“Never mind, I’ll just find some other way to handle them.” Shayliss scowled as she stood and stormed from the table; clearly upset by the thought of Tessa tagging along.

“I am not Qakisst, Tessa. I don’t need protected from pretty young girls; and I certainly don’t want a chaperone.” Konnor snarled at Tessa as he hurried to catch Shayliss. “Don’t worry; I’ll be happy to help you! Shayliss is it?” Konnor left with the all too eager Shayliss gripping his arm.

Athos was staring at the departing couple in disbelief. "He knows it's not rats he'll be hunting, right?"

“I wouldn’t count on Konnor knowing that it's more of a rat trap; or that he’s the rat." Tessa rolled her eyes and went back to planning Qakisst’s memorial. “He thinks that he’s so smooth that there is no trouble he can’t get out of. I guess we’ll find out.”

Caleb grinned as he pulled back a deep gulp on his beer. Some lessons just have to be learned the hard way.

The Exchange

After we went through this next part of our story; Athos, our GM, directed me to the message boards where he found this little side adventure. I believe that James B. Cline created the Chopper's Island side quest. If I am wrong, I apologize. Props in any case to the author. It really creeped us out and drastically changed Qakisst.

I did a lot of research on Qadira before we started the game. Because if his Qadiran background what we found on Chopper's Island literally changed the way I play Qakisst and the way I write him. It is not that Qakisst grows up suddenly. It is that Qakisst is so much more determined to live life while he can.

Burnt Offerings: The mystery of Simon Korvut:

Qakisst he looked like he had fought a mule, and lost. He slowly trudged home with the bundle of food Bethana had given him. Even Ameiko had given him a sympathetic look when she saw him. The thought of that alone warmed his heart and steadied his nerves. When he got home, he made himself an ice pack by using his arcane gifts to draw all the heat out of a bucket of water with a simple frost finger cantrip and wrapping the ice in a rag. Qakisst finally found a bit of peace as he ate his meal and sharpened his new spear.

He went to bed early and managed to sleep between bad dreams. The woman depicted in the statue from the catacombs under Sandpoint dominated his dreams. She strode through the clouds like lightning and struck like liquid fire. But she was not the only nightmare that stalked the ruins in the clouds. Even before the sun had risen, his dreams had driven him out of bed to say his greetings to the Dawnflower Goddess. He dressed carefully in his best Sunday clothes even though it was only Starday and slipped out into the early morning twilight. He then did something he thought he would ever do. He went to see Aliver Podiker at his herbalist shop, The Pillbug’s Pantry.

Aliver made a fair living off of herbal remedies and natural medicines. Magic was costly, after all. But Aliver had a little secret known to the less scrupulous among the Sczarni clan. Aliver didn’t just know the plants that could help you heal; he knew the ones that could make you sleep, make you sick, or even worse; all for the right price. Qakisst did not much like Aliver, but he needed something for sleep. Just not for himself.

Qakisst knew that Master Das Korvut kept three big dogs. Ruddy red tinged fur and mean attitudes. For years the children of Sandpoint had made sport of teasing and taunting the big dogs; and so the dogs did not like young visitors, not that Das much liked any visitors either.

Most of the time, Master Korvut was of a mind to keep his dogs to heel; but after yesterday’s disgraceful actions by Qakisst, he was not so sure that Master Korvut would be that kind. So he knocked on the door to Aliver’s little shop and house just after sunrise. Qakisst was not that familiar with plants but he knew enough to know that some of the plants Aliver harvested could only be harvested at daybreak. He lucked out. Aliver had not gone off into the woods this morning, but was up working in his greenhouse. When Aliver opened the top half of his door he looked a bit shocked.

“Hapfie ppillbugs, Aliver. Hafe you seen anie?”

“Not who I would have expected to be asking me about that this early in the morning, Mr. Vishtani.” Aliver’s intentional reference to Qakisst’s heart-Mother was not completely unexpected.

“I need shomething to make a dog shleep. A couple of them.” Qakisst fidgeted at the door, “Kome on Alipher. Do noth yank my shain.”

“Don’t sweat it, Kisst. We all know you will never squeal. Just was not expecting you. You are always so proper; you know. Everybody respects you for it too.” Aliver shuffled a couple things around and opened the lower door, “Off the street before you attract attention.” Qakisst slipped in the door and stood in the front entry waiting. “Want something for that fat lip and swollen eye? I can give you something that will deaden the pain. If nothing else, it will help you with that mumbling slur you have.”

“Ai’m good, no. I earned thish, sho I will lifve witsh it.”

“Too much pride is a bad thing, Cousin Kisst. Ol’ Das is probably still drunk. Don’ look surprised. Das has problems and everybody knows it. More than a few would like to do what you did, but do not have good enough reason or the nerve to actually do it.”

“Mashter Korvuth did noth deservfe it.”

“Maybe, and maybe not. But he has certainly earned it with his manners the last few years.” Aliver set a price and Qakisst did not argue, paying and leaving. From there he headed for the White Deer Inn. He had not been in the big inn much of late and wanted to have breakfast with friendly faces. He regretted not paying them enough attention lately.

Just as he had for the five years he and his mother had worked for the old Black Deer Inn, before it had burned down in the Sandpoint fire, he entered the kitchen and found a plate. He filled it without disturbing the working staff, and slipped through the serving entrance to the table at the end of the bar and service counter. This was where the Viskalai family would sit when they were in the common room. Korva was sitting just as she always had when they were growing up.

“You’re late.”

Qakisst spoke carefully around his bruised lips, “You were especting me? I figured I wore my welcome out yeshterday.”

“You could never do that.”

“Are you shure? You did not sheem to like the company you found me in yeshterday.”

“Please tell me that you are not keeping company with that horrible woman?”

“Tell me why she is sho horrible?”

“Qakisst!”

“No, really. Tell me why she is sho horrible.”

“She is a… she’s… Qakisst, don’t make me say it.”

“She is a whore?” Korva looked shocked that Qakisst would use such a word in her parents’ inn. Her jaw moved but no sound came out. “She wash right, you know. She could be some older farmer’s brood wife, pumping out more handsh to work the farm.” Korva went to object, but Qakisst shushed her. “Not everybody geths to marry somebody they love, or even like. Laure wass going to wind up shtuck in temple till Father Zantus was forced to evict her, or having to proshtitute herself to some old man with enough wealth to take care of her, or wind up married to shomebody that would take her deshpite her lack of a dowry. Thish way, at least she has control of her own livfe. Being an orphan really shucks, Korva. Trust me. I did it twice. You do what you have to and you make the bestht ov it.”

Korva prepared to criticize Qakisst for his defense of Laure, but Tanjah dropped her plate in front of the seat on the other side of Qakisst and carefully folded her arms around him. “You look terrible, Kisst! Why have you not been to the healers at temple?”
“A’m fine Tanshah.”

“Not saying my name like that you aren’t.”

“Hurtsh worse than it looksh.”

“WHAT!?!”

Qakisst struggled to smile, “Kithing, Tanshah.” She punched him in the shoulder.

The morning did not get better. Lady Quinta, the White Deer’s matron berated him for his fight with Master Korvut, and for not taking care of himself; as did Garridan Viskalai, the White Deer’s patron. Extracting himself had proved as difficult as expected. The only saving grace being that Korva had managed not to mention their encounter with Laure. Eventually he managed to excuse himself and slip through the kitchen where he begged a couple of venison steaks for his dubious plan to keep from being fed to the dogs. Then he headed down to the garrison to find Pavo and draft him for his next task. Already it was nearly eight bells and he was afraid that the other Sandpoint heroes would come looking for him before he could see Master Korvut.

The Red Dog Smithy set up was completely different from Savah’s Armory. The armory had been converted out of an old warehouse while the smithy had been purpose built. When Qakisst and Pavo arrived Qakisst gave him explicit instructions to stay outside until called. Pavo did not argue, though he looked like he wanted to. Qakisst slipped up to the door and sprinkled the concoction he had obtained from Aliver that morning onto the two slices of venison, cut them into smaller chunks, then tossed them in through the door as soon as he heard the dogs padding his way with a growl.

The three big dogs quickly scarfed down the chunks of fresh venison, then padded off to drowse under the effects of Aliver’s concoction. Though not asleep, the three dogs were too drowsy to be bothered with any unwanted company. Qakisst then stepped into the workroom and called out to the big room. “Hello?”

One of Master Korvut’s apprentices stuck his head out from behind a work table and spied Qakisst. The young boy blanched upon seeing who the visitor was. “Um, can I help you?” It was obvious that the young boy wanted nothing to do with whatever Qakisst had planned for the morning.

“Ish Master Korvut availible?” Qakisst spoke carefully around his fat lip.

“Uh, no. He is not going to be available for some time.”

“I will wait.”

“Uh, well. He is not ah… he is not awake yet.”

“That iths fine. I will shtill wait.” Qakisst stood by the front entrance patiently waiting. The apprentice fidgeted for a moment before finally going to the far back of the Smithy and knocking on the private office door. The knock caused the other two apprentices to poke their heads out from the nooks they had been hiding in. Both younger boys looked at the older apprentice, looked at Qakisst near the front door, and scrambled to make themselves busy.

“WHAT!?!” The bellow from behind the door caused the three apprentices to jump and made the three dogs snort.

“Uh, sir. There is,… uh,… somebody to see you.”

“Who the hell is…” Master Korvut stepped out of the back room where he commonly slept, left eye blackened, and cheek swollen, “Oh.” He paused a moment before sending his apprentices out of the shop. “You three, go check the wood stock out back.”

Das Korvut slowly walked over to the quench tank, the one thing his current apprentices always kept clean and full, and dunked his head into the tank before raising his head and grabbing a towel and drying his head. “I did not expect to find you here this morning. What do you want?”

“Shir. Mashter Korvut, Sir; I vould like to apologize for my inescusable behavior yesterday during, um… at market yeshterday.”

“What?” Das Korvut looked dubiously at Qakisst. “Boy, it was a fight. I was drunk. Is that all you want? My head hurts too much to listen to this. Get…”

Qakisst interjected, “I alsho vant to anshwer your queshtion, Shir.”

“My what?”

“Your queshtion, Shir. You ashked vhere I vas, uh… vhen your vhife died.” The blacksmith looked visibly shaken, “Uh, I was sleeping under my mother’s bed in our wagon.” The pain of speaking clearly showed on Qakisst’s face.

“I know.”

“Shir, I…”

“BOY!” The bark from Master Korvut shook Qakisst to silence, “I know where you were and I remember your mother. I am sorry boy. I was drunk, but that is no excuse.”

“Shir, I…”

“Boy, you stammer ‘Sir’ at me again and we will likely be fighting again.”

“Uh…” Master Korvut looked thoughtful and pained as Qakisst blanched in fear.

“I see him some times.”

“Wh…” The admission startled Qakisst.

“I am not crazy, boy. I see his spirit walking around.”

“Bu…”

“I am not the only one either!” Qakisst struggled to keep doubt from his face, “Go ask Hosk! He seen it. He will try to say he didn’t, but he did. Admitted it to me when we was drinking one night.” Qakisst was floored at the claim. Undeath was greatly feared in his homeland of Qadira and the idea made him cold. “Hosk asked me to cover a favor with you lot. You want your favor? You do me one first. They never found his body; my boy’s body. Every other victim of Chopper was found, but not my Simon. Bring him home to me. Find out what happened to my boy and I will go one further and do your group’s work for cost.”

“I don… Mashter Korvuut, I do not know ifv we can do that.” Qakisst felt his heart sinking. He knew what it was like to be haunted by your memories, but Master Korvut’s claim that actual restless spirits were walking Sandpoint terrified him.

“You do this for me, Qakisst Vishtani and I’ll do you a solid. Or don’t, and no deal. Now get out.” Qakisst backed away, “And go see a damn healer. You look like hell, boy.”

Qakisst was not sure what to do, but he knew he would have to talk it over with Caleb and the others. He had cost them all a valuable favor if they could not figure out what had happened to Simon Korvut. He headed straight down to the Dragon and found the five waiting on him.

“Are we going to see ol’ Das Korvut, or have you already taken care of that?” Caleb frowned at Qakisst as he entered the common room.

“Sit down over here right now, Qakisst. That eye and lip need tending.” Laranys pulled the chair next to her out and glared at Qakisst.

“Yeth Laraniff.” Qakisst sat as the others watched him. “No, Calebb. I hafe already seen Master Korvut. OWWwww! Why does healing magic have to hurt so much?”

“Because there is no such thing as a free ride.” Laranys scowled at him.

“Since you are here and not worse off than you were last night, I presume you managed to at least make a truce.” Athos looked almost pleased with Qakisst. A warrior at heart, he seemed to appreciate that Qakisst had stood up for himself more than the others; but he had still been annoyed when they had told him that he probably would not be able to get a discount on the new shield he wanted.

“Das Korvut claims to be seeing the ghost of his dead son.” Qakisst just laid it out knowing the disbelief he was bound to meet.

“He is a drunk, Qakisst. Whole town knows it.” Caleb looked less than impressed at the moment.

“If I was seeing the ghost of my dead child, I would drink too. And why is he not seeing the ghost of his dead wife if he is seeing the ghost of his child?” Tessa was fussing with several jars of strange things as she spoke, almost as if not paying attention to either the conversation or her current task. “You told me last night that both this Das Korvut’s wife and son were killed by the madman Chopper. Why one and not the other?”

“He only had the one child, right? Maybe he just did not care for…” Qakisst cut Athos off.

“I knew the Korvut family, so did Caleb. I do not remember any family friction. In fact I remember Master and Lady Korvut always being very close.” Qakisst ignored the doubtful look from Athos. “And Simon was a really bright kid. We took languages together at Turandarok. He was years ahead of most students his age; not shy either. One of the few Chelish children I always got along with at school.”

“That does not mean that there were not issues behind closed doors.” Athos remained doubtful.

“And if nobody else has seen this spirit…”

Laranys stopped as Qakisst held up a hand. “Maybe somebody else has. Master Korvut told me that Stable Master Hosk admitted to seeing Simon’s ghost once, but will not admit it now. I do not know if he was just remembering what he wanted to hear when he was drunk or what; but…”

“We get to go talk to Hosk, don’t we?” Konnor sounded annoyed.

“If we can set this in order, Master Korvut has agreed to do us each a job at cost. That would be half what you normally pay. And probably good enough to be enhanced magically.”

Athos perked up. “Well now, that sounds nice.”

Laranys looked around the group, “But where would we start?”

Caleb shrugged, “Ol’ Hosk’s. Got to find out what he really saw.”

Tessa capped a bottle and grinned, “Then Chopper’s island. Where else would you look for a victim of the Chopper?” Qakisst and Caleb’s faces paled at the thought.

It took little time to find Master Hosk, considering that the Dragon and the Goblin Squash Stables sat right next to each other in the southeast corner of Sandpoint. A brief question and answer session finally got Hosk to admit that he had seen something one night that looked like it could have been Simon Korvut. The ghostly apparition had been seen right near sunset, and had disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. Master Hosk seemed quite convinced that it must have been one of the other children of Sandpoint, or too much ale addling his senses.

The six heroes were not quite convinced. The apparent apparition was seen not far from the White Deer, on Junker’s Way. Junker’s Way went out to the stairway that went down from Sandpoint to the beach off the Old Light. Still not convinced, but more than a little creeped out, the party gathered their gear and met at Junker’s Edge. Having notified the Garrison where they were going, they headed down to the beach.

Just crossing the beach proved to be an adventure. Aside from having to wait until the tides had withdrawn in order to make it across the wet sand beach, the area was not free of danger. Strange wildlife was common in Varisia, and being attacked on the beach by a pair of crabs the size of dogs had set a bad tone to the task. After seeing to the crab-beasts and disposing of their carcasses, the six searched the south side of Chopper’s island for where the old stair case had been built along the cliff. While there were handholds and plateaus here and there from where the stairs had been, it would be a difficult climb. Fortunately, Konnor and Caleb had enough climbing gear that the party was able to eventually climb the cliff face, some 55 cubits or more in height.

What they found at the top looked to be an almost verdant paradise, except for the burnt out remains of Jervis Stoot’s house. All around the high top of the part-time island the image of birds was carved into trees, stumps, any surface that could still hold them. The only other notable finding was what looked like a large den that had old chewed-on bones. The tracks nearby looked like horse tracks to Caleb, but clawed. Seeing nothing else, they returned to the old house. Remembering the stories from then Guard Captain Viskalai’s search of the island five years ago the heroes found a barred metal door in the floor of the burned out house. Konnor quickly found access to the basement by falling through the floor; sustaining only minor injuries. The others quickly joined him at the bottom by way of the steps under the door.

What they found at the bottom of the stairs was disturbing. A statue of some kind of demonic bird-like monstrosity stood over an altar covered in decay and dust. The man that would become Sheriff Hemlock had found the Chopper’s body here that bloody night. The other guards who had accompanied him had taken sick upon seeing the horrors of this chamber and refused to enter it. Only Sheriff Hemlock had come down here, and nobody had ever had reason to doubt his story. Laranys and Qakisst carefully examined the demonic altar. The mark of a heavy blade cut deep into the blackened stone surface as though there had been a fight here. After their inspection, Laranys poured holy water upon the altar and invoked blessings of the Sun Goddess upon the unholy temple while Konnor and Caleb carefully searched the room. All the while, they couldn’t help but feel like they heard whispers in the darkness, just beyond their sight.

Konnor found a door to the left of the basement altar room leading outside the frame of the former house that had burned above them. The left doorway led to a storage room full of scavenged horrors. Eyes and tongues pickled in brine jars filled the shelves. Qakisst went outside to puke.

When he returned, he found that at Laranys’ instruction, the others had bagged the jars of human parts for return to Sandpoint’s graveyard. She intended to see the parts blessed and interred properly. This act would satisfy any angry spirits still clinging to this world. What stirred tormented souls to return to the world of the living could not often be predicted, and it was best to set this horror right.

Caleb found a concealed door to the right that led to stairs going down further into the island rock. The smooth stone surface reminded Qakisst of the Thassilonian ruins found under Sandpoint, but it was as if the Thassilonian protective magics had failed, and this place was a decaying ruin like the burnt out house above. Soot covered everything.

As Konnor slid carefully down the steps something caused the hair on his neck to stand up. He signaled everybody to stop, just as a knife sitting on the stairs leapt of its own accord into the air and attacked. The eerie poltergeist effect stirred Laranys to action and she called upon Sarenrae to cast out dark spirits. The knife dropped to the ground. Qakisst practically trembled in fear at the thought that restless spirits haunted this place. At the first landing on the stairs, they found an intact doorway. The stairs below were blocked by a cave-in.

Konnor found the door locked, but had little trouble forcing the too simple obstacle. He carefully opened the door and found a small child playing in the corner. Over his shoulder Qakisst and Caleb paled in shock. The nine year old boy in the decayed and soot filled chamber appeared to be Simon Korvut, but that could not possibly be. Simon had been nine years old when he had gone missing. The lost spirit of anguish and fear turned from where it was playing and screamed. The image of Simon turned dark, corrupt, and facelessly evil as the restless spirit leapt from its position and charged Konnor at the door.

“WHY DID YOU HURT ME?” The wretched undeath screamed as it grabbed Konnor and flung him into the room. The impact shook the masked man and he grunted in pain. Shocked into action, yet horrified at the sight before them, the other heroes struggled to contain the broken spirit until Laranys could bring Sarenrae’s blessings upon it. The fight should not have lasted long, but the childlike visage so disturbed the six, they could not focus. The anger of the spirit was like a palpable living horror that clawed at them, battered them, and screamed at them. “NO MORE BIRDS! NO MORE KILLING! EVIL BIRDS!”

Laranys finally managed to bring the gold winged cross of Sarenrae to face the angry spirit, “Sarenrae’s light will free you; Sarenrae’s light will free you; Sarenrae’s light will free you; LET SARENRAE’S LIGHT SET YOU FREE!” A great burst of fire and light from Laranys’ upheld cross flooded the room and the soft voice of a young boy spoke.

“Mommy! Here I am! I’m home!” The voice faded into the light. As the light of Sarenrae faded, the party saw in the corner, wrapped in a dirty rotting blanket, the mummified remains of a small boy chained to the wall. The boy was dressed in rags of obviously Chelish clothes and clutching a small stuffed dog.

The six Sandpoint heroes stood stunned, battered, sick, and shocked beyond comprehension. “I think I am going to be sick.” The shaking voice of Athos startled the others. Slowly, Laranys and Tessa examined the body as Konnor and Caleb searched the rest of the room. Athos guarded the doorway, looking as sick as he claimed to be. Qakisst stood feeling useless and felt the rage of an abused childhood that had burned faintly within him for 50 years boil through the cracks of his soul.

“Sarenrae’s light. He was tortured badly; and I think he starved to death. There’s soot in his nose and mouth. In his clothes. Under his body.” Laranys’ voice became a whisper, “I do not think that he was dead when this place burned.” Everybody grew cold with realization.

“Wrap his body. Take him out of here.” The cold calm voice of Qakisst shook the room with force. The other five turned towards him. “Şimdi yapın! Do it now.”
“Kisst? Cousin?”

“Then I am going to burn this island down to the bare rock.” The calm statement brought action by the others. The small mummified hand slipped easily through the manacle that had once kept Simon Korvut prisoner.

It took only five minutes for the others to get their gear and begin the climb down the cliff walls. Then Qakisst began. One of the gifts of his elemental heritage was the ability to convert the power of any elemental spell into fire. He unleashed them all. Never before in his life had Qakisst exhausted himself so. When he ran out of higher order spells, and had exhausted his ability to project bolts of fire, he called again and again on the little spells that most considered harmless. Continuously he used the ray spell that he had used just yesterday to freeze water to scorch the trees and ground until they caught fire. Qakisst did not stop until everything in the dungeon, the dark temple, and the storage room burned. Then he moved about the island, releasing his rage on anything and everything. He burnt it all. The flames leapt high into the air.

Word had spread throughout Sandpoint that the heroes were going to Chopper’s Island shortly after the six had headed down to Junker’s Cove. A small gathering of spectators had gathered to watch for their return. When the first of them had begun to climb down where the staircase had been using the ropes that had allowed them to ascend Chopper’s Island there had been cheers. The cheering drew a larger crowd, and by the time the fifth hero was descending the ropes a quarter of Sandpoint was standing on the North Face overlooking Junker’s Cove. Then the smoke started to pour out of the center of the island. Within minutes the entire island was a blazing inferno. Fireworks could be seen exploding all across the island. In less than 10 minutes from the time the smoke started, everything not sand or rock on the island was in flames, right down to the grass. Fire leapt nearly 70 cubits into the air above the island in the late afternoon sun before anybody saw Qakisst finally begin his descent by rope.

Just less than 20 cubits from the ground, the rope that the party had been using gave way as the fire that spread across the island had weakened it and Qakisst fell the final distance to the wet sand with a thud and a groan. “Ohhhhhfffff.” The impact knocked the air from him when he hit, but Qakisst had not fallen far enough to do serious harm. He had difficulty standing and catching his breath until Laranys gripped his arm and he felt the blessings of the Sun Goddess. “Uhhhhrrr. I will never get used to that.”

“Good. You are not supposed to get used to it.” A splash to their left made the six jump.

“Hey. My grappling hook!” Konnor bent down to retrieve the now blackened hook from the wet sand. “Ouch. Still hot.” He wrapped a piece of cloth about it and rolled the metal in the tide to cool it before securing it. The six began the long trek back up to the town. By the time they had arrived something of a small celebration had begun of its own accord. Word had passed about the town that the heroes were searching Chopper’s Island for some reason, and the long dark fear that many of Sandpoint’s residents felt toward the one time home of Jervis Stoot had created a palatable tension for the residents gawking at the island all afternoon waiting for the heroes to return had erupted in joy at seeing all six return. The burning of the island had an almost healing effect on the town’s people; not unlike exorcising a dark influence.

When the six finally reached the North Face and the jubilant crowd they found Sheriff Hemlock waiting for them, having just returned from Magnimar with 50 soldiers. “Quite a show you six have put on. Care to tell me why?”

Caleb motioned the Sheriff to the side as the others headed up the street toward the temple. Qakisst looked over at them, unable to hide the anger in his eyes, so he kept his head down. He had known Belor Hemlock for 10 years, and knew that he was a good man. But good men can make mistakes, and as Caleb whispered into the sheriff’s ear what they had discovered the tall dark Shoanti man grew pale. Qakisst could not bring himself to feel sorry for Hemlock though. Only Simon Korvut could grant the Sheriff forgiveness; and that was not possible in this life.

When the party reached Temple Square, Qakisst nudged Laranys and let her know where he was going. The others continued with their burden to the Cathedral while Qakisst took the stuffed dog with him and headed down the street to the Red Dog Smithy.

The ring of hammer on metal did not comfort Qakisst that afternoon as it normally did. He pushed open the door to the smithy’s workshop and scanned the room. The three apprentices were working about the shop while Master Das pounded away at the anvil working the start of a project as a hot metal ingot. The apprentices scrambled and disappeared upon seeing Qakisst. He did not speak at first. He walked to the anvil and stopped. The hammer slammed into metal, but did not rise again as Korvut looked up.

“I…” Words choked in Qakisst’s throat. He held out the dirty stuffed toy. Tears welled in the young man’s eyes as he struggled to speak.

“You found him.” The words were like lead weight upon Qakisst’s ears.

“Evet.” Qakisst’s meaning was clear enough even when his words were not.

“I knew he was dead. I just need to put my boy to rest.” Korvut’s hollow eyes filled with tears.

“We… we brought his body back… back to the Cathedral.”

“Leave me be.”

“Das?” Qakisst had never before used the blacksmith’s first name. He could not speak the things he felt right then. He did not have to.

“Thank you, Qakisst. I’ll do right by your friends.” He set the hammer and iron ingot onto the base of the anvil to cool and turned toward the back of the room. “Now leave me alone for a while. All of you.”

As Qakisst left the smithy, the three apprentices eased out the door with some confusion. The oldest of them, only 15, worked up the nerve to ask what was happening. Qakisst looked at them through haunted eyes, “We brought his son home to rest.”

“But his son died years ago.”

“Biliyorum. I… I know. And now we have finally brought him home.” The three stared at Qakisst as he walked back up the hill to the Cathedral.

When he arrived, he found that Laranys had taken care of explaining everything to Father Zantus. The two of them had made quick arrangements to bless and intern the body parts after divinations could be cast to identify to whom they belonged. Arrangements were also made to intern Simon Korvut beside his mother’s remains. Lonjiku Kaijitsu was slated to be interred tomorrow as well, and it looked as if worship day would be a somber day this week for all of Sandpoint.

Once all the arrangements had been made, and Caleb had caught up with the party from explaining to his aunt what the party had discovered the crowd bade them all to join the celebration marking the end of this dark chapter of Sandpoint history. The strangely joyous festivities drew the heroes to the White Deer Inn, where Qakisst finally made introductions of his new companions to his longtime friends. But none of them felt much like celebrating, so they did not remain long. Qakisst was last to leave, telling Lady Quinta that he would be back for brunch after Sunrise Service in the morning, as had been his habit before the Swallowtail Festival then made his way to the Rusty Dragon briefly to look about.

He did not see her, so he left. From the Dragon. he headed down Salmon Street. He had not been this way since his last visit to the Fat Man’s Feedbag, a rough and tumble establishment where his Sczarni friends liked to hang out and play Harrows; but he did not go all the way down to the Feedbag. He stopped a few doors up from the Feedbag at the door of the Pixie’s Kitten. He did not actually go in. He stopped in the open door and looked around. The Kitten was surprisingly well furnished to his eyes. Clean and tidy, with several girls serving drinks and working girls seated about the nearly empty common. The large bouncer by the front door looked down at him.

“Not somebody I ever expected to see here. In or out Q, you are letting the flies in.” Qakisst did not recognize the bouncer, yet the voice was familiar.

His eyes locked onto the bright yellow dress that Laure favored when working. He whistled across the room. Everybody turned to look. When Laure’s eyes locked on his, he nodded to the side out the front door and stepped back out. “Sorry, I am not staying.”

The bouncer muttered something that Qakisst ignored as he stepped out onto the street. Moments later Laure joined him, “You cannot do this, Q. This is where I work…” Laure paused as she saw Qakisst shaking visibly, quiet tears streaming down his face. “Q? Sweetie, what is it?”

“Yalnız gece beni terk etmeyin. I cannot be alone tonight.” The soul wrenching whisper scared Laure to her very core. She could feel the hollow touch of death in Qakisst’s voice.

“Stay right here.” She turned to go back into the Kitten, “Don’t you move, Q.” Laure slipped back inside for about 10 minutes before coming back out. She had gathered a few things and pulled a dark scarf around her shoulders that complimented the tight yellow dress she was wearing. She slipped her arm into his and pulled him in tight. “Are you going to tell me what happened?’

“I do … not … know if … I can.” They walked slowly up the street. People that recognized Laure stared at both of them. Qakisst knew that by the end of tomorrow everybody in town would know who he had been seen with. He did not care. His soul was empty and he could not stand to be alone.

Laure had expected Qakisst to take her to the Dragon for the evening, but he surprised her when he turned down Market Street and then up River Street taking her all the way to the little stone cottage across the street from the Red Dog Smithy. He pulled a key out of his haramaki and unlocked the door. “This is mine. Nobody will bother us here.”

“Q, sweetie, you are scaring the wits out of me.” Laure stepped into the room. The small number of candles in the room flared to life as Qakisst mumbled the prestidigitation to light them. “Q?” He kissed her. She sensed the desperation in him. The need to feel alive. It scared her, but she did not say no. He needed her right then and she knew it. He did not know what he was doing and she did not know where to take him, but it was a small cottage and they managed to find the bed before too long.

The Exchange

Nights like that have mornings after them; and flowers. Lots of flowers.

Burnt Offerings: Flowers for Lonjiku:

The sun called to him. The warmth of a human body called to him too, but he could not resist the approaching dawn. Qakisst slipped from the bed still feeling numb inside; but no longer feeling hollow. He padded through the dark cottage to the kitchen and pulled out the heavy black kettle he had found when he moved in, made sure that it was clean and filled it with water from the pump. He took it into the room where Laure still slept and put his finger into the water and called forth the fire in his soul.

Qakisst half expected nothing to happen. He had felt so empty last night, so utterly horrified by his encounter with the restless spirit of Simon Korvut’s soul that he had feared for his own. But with a thought his inner fire brought the water to a near boil almost instantly. He placed the only towel and washcloth he owned next to the large kettle on the table; then went to the back of the room, used his magics to clean himself, and dressed for sunrise service. Before leaving he whispered in Laure’s ear that the water would grow cold if she slept too long and slipped out the front door. He had left a key, and a note for her to give the key to Bethana at the Dragon. Qakisst half expected her to keep it. He had no idea what he was going to do when word got around town that he had spent the night with Laure. Word would get around; but he did not care right now. He strolled up High Street to the Cathedral and entered just before sunrise service began. He could see Laranys in the front near the altar and headed in her direction. When he looked out past the open air shrine to Sarenrae at the graveyard beyond the Cathedral he smiled.

Flowers covered everything; in every color and variety. Spring flowers, summer flowers, and autumn blossoms could be seen covering everything. He paused to stare a second before going to stand next to Laranys. “Today is a better day.” He said it softly, so that only those close by could hear.

“Is this what…” He cut her off.

“We are not talking about that.”

“Qakisst, we…”

“You said you could keep a secret.”

“I did not.”

“Laranys!” Qakisst glared at his friend. The source of the flowers had to remain a secret. This was for Sandpoint, not for any effect on his or anyone else’s reputation.

Dawnflower Naffer Vosk stepped up to the altar in the open air shrine and spoke. As Sandpoint’s ranking cleric of Sarenrae it was his duty to mark the roster of who would lead sunrise service each week and he had chosen to do so himself. He spoke of redemption and renewal as the heart of the faith. Normally sermons on renewal were saved for springtime, but it seemed that the carpet of flowers covering the cemetery grounds had caught a spark in the groundskeeper and cleric’s imagination. The warm and welcoming message seemed to take hold of the crowd and despite the somber events scheduled for the day; there was an upbeat mood to the small crowd.

Qakisst bid Laranys a good morning and told her that he would be back before the funeral services started, but that he needed to spend the morning with old friends. She understood, and promised to keep quiet. Qakisst then strolled quickly up the street to the White Deer Inn. Since taking his apprenticeship at Savah’s he had always come to Sunday brunch at the Deer with the Viskalai family. When duty permitted, even Sheriff Hemlock would join them, thanks to Lady Quinta laying down the law that her husband, Garridan, was not allowed to bring up his opinion that Belor was abandoning his Shoanti heritage.

Qakisst had hoped to see the sheriff there this morning, but he did not show. The Viskalai’s oldest boy, Vachedi came to brunch in his guard trainee’s tabard and offered his uncle’s apologies to the family. “Sorry Mother, Uncle sends his apologies and said that he cannot be spared this morning due to the Lonjiku funeral and the current goblin crisis.” Vach slipped into the chair opposite Qakisst, “I do not think he wanted to spare me this morning either, but knew you would be upset if we both missed Sunday brunch.”

“You’re not needed someplace now, are you Vach?” Garridan questioned his oldest son casually.

“No, Dad. I have escort duty for guests of the Kaijitsu family. What few of them there are came up from Magnimar for Lonjiku’s funeral. While they are staying in the Kaijitsu manor, they won’t be ready to attend the service for a couple of hours.

The conversation during breakfast was light, and the mood through the inn somber but hopeful. Carefully listening to the crowd, Qakisst caught periodic mentions of miraculous flowers covering the cemetery grounds. Near the end of breakfast he caught Korva’s attention and motioned toward the kitchen. The two excused themselves and slipped out the back of the inn.

“Shame Pavo could not get escort duty for the Kaijitsu guests too.” Qakisst sat in the grass overlooking the north face and patted the ground next to him. The blackened and now barren surface of Chopper’s island stood out against the bright blue ocean behind it. Smoke still rose from a few spots where fallen trees smoldered.

“Vach said that Uncle Belor did not want to look like he was pulling too many favors for family.” Korva dropped to the ground with little regard to looking lady-like.

“I guess.” Qakisst looked nervous staring out over Junker’s Bay

“You look like hell warmed over, Kisst.” Korva pointed at Chopper’s Island, “And what in the name of all Heaven and Hell made you do that?”

“I cannot say.”

“You do not know or you will not tell me.”

“You do not want to know, Korva. If you ever trusted me at all, please trust me now.”

“Come on Kisst. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I am a big girl now.”

“I could not handle it, Korva. What happened over there, I could not handle it alone.”

“You were not alone, Kisst. You have friends. Some of them were even over there with you.”

“I know, but I could not share this with you. I love you too much to put this on you, little sister.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“Yes you are”

“Yes I am.” The pair smiled as they spoke over each other. For a moment, they enjoyed the quiet solitude of a Worship Day morning.

Korva leaned over and laid her head on Qakisst’s shoulder, “Why are you telling me this when you say that you are never going to tell me what happened over there?”

“I slept with Laure Vieskin last night.” Korva did not move at Qakisst’s statement. “I know you do not like her, Korva. I am not in love, and she is not using me to get at my money. I just really needed to be with somebody.”

The pair remained silent for several more minutes before Korva spoke, “If she hurts you I will rip her head off.”

Korva and Qakisst sat overlooking Junker’s Bay until the sounds of people leaving the inn finally stirred them to rise. Members of the Magnimarian nobility had come from the city to pay their respects. The immigrant Kaijitsu family had made a considerable name for itself over the last one hundred years, and Lonjiku had been a major part of that as owner of the Sandpoint Glassworks. The crowd for Lonjiku’s funeral was considerably more impressive that Qakisst had expected.

“I have to go now. I am expected to attend as a Sandpoint Hero.” Qakisst’s emphasis on the word hero showed his disdain for the term. He helped Korva to her feet.

“We will be attending as well, though I think per social protocol I will be pretty far into the back of the mourners.”

Qakisst left his friend to head down to the Red Dog Smithy before he had to be back at the Cathedral. The place was quiet until he tried the door. It was not locked, but the sound of it set the three great dogs barking and charging for the front of the workshop.

“HEEL!” The bellowing voice of Das Korvut brought the dogs to a stop. As Das Korvut stepped out of the back room dressed for the afternoon’s somber events the three dogs slumped to the ground beside his feet. “So you going to be checking up on me all the time now?” Das scowled towards Qakisst, who was nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Not all the time, Sir.” Qakisst smiled, “Just when I feel I should.”

“Don’ make a habit of it.” Das looked pale, and still seemed mournful, but he was obviously sober. He seemed a little more the man Qakisst remembered from before the Unpleasantness. “I will be along shortly. Nobody wants to see me at the Kaijitsu funeral. I am only attending Simon’s blessing and service. Go on boy. You and your group can come by later this week and see me. I’ll be all right.

“Yes Sir.

“Call me Das, or quit calling me. I get enough Sir from those dunderheaded boys I got working for me. Besides, I heard you’re a smith in your own right now”

“Sure thing, Si… Das.” Qakisst stepped out the door behind him and headed back to the Cathedral.

He found Laranys and Caleb waiting on him. Tessa was already in the open air shrine to Sarenrae with Athos looking out over the cemetery. Paths in the flowers had been cleared, but the graveyard was still carpeted in blossoms. A fair number of Sandpoint’s residents had gathered, filling the cemetery and open air temple. Qakisst listened to the crowd carefully as they were directed to their places to stand in observance. He heard people buzzing about the Glassworks being covered in blossoms as well, and rumor had it that both the Dragon and the Kaijitsu manor house were similarly adorned. He struggled not to smile as Father Zantus read the eulogy before the closed Kaijitsu family crypt.

Considerable effort had been required to free Lonjiku from the great mass of glass Tsuto had encased him in, and it had not left him in a condition for any form of public viewing. The ceremony was full of extensive pomp and circumstance traditional to the Tian people. Qakisst was not familiar with much of it, and found it mind-numbing and unnecessary, but he held his tongue. Looking across the assembled crowd, he was fairly sure when his eyes fell upon Lady Ameiko that she would have agreed with him. Even the trained bard could not hide her discomfort at standing here listening to praise for her father.

It was nearly two bells before the Lonjiku service ended. As the larger crowd began to clear out, the service for Simon Korvut and the other remains recovered on Chopper’s Island began. It was mercifully short and somber. Das Korvut finally broke down in tears. His remaining friends and family comforted him. When it was over, the troop returned to the Rusty Dragon at last.

Flowers adorned the Dragon just as Qakisst had hoped. As he entered, Bethana caught his attention, “Your visitor from last week left me this for you.” She handed him the key he had left with Laure this morning, “Something you want to tell me, Mr. Vishtani?”

“Uh, not that I can think of.” Qakisst accepted the key, “But, uh, what is with the flowers, Bethana? They are covering the cemetery too.”

“No idea. They were just there this morning.” She leaned over the counter, looking so much more imposing than her halfling stature normally allowed. “Laure is a nice young woman. Do not be cruel and just discard her when you have had your fill, Mr. Vishtani. I would hate for either of you to get hurt. You sure you know what you are doing?”

“Not a clue what I am doing, Bethana. But I will not just discard anybody.” He patted the older halfling’s tiny hand before moving to sit with his fellow heroes.

“Was this what you were talking to Grandmother Niska about last week, Qakisst?” Tessa held a flower blossom plucked from the exterior of the Dragon moments ago.

“I do not know what you are talking about Tessa.” Qakisst cleared his throat. “Hey everybody, a friend of Grandmother Mvashti has reported that there have been some strange activities in the woods south of the Coast Rood just shy of the Nettles. There are strange tracks, and reports of some dead rising; even rumors that a man of some kind is controlling the dead. Tsuto’s journal is directing us towards Thistletop island, do you think we can take a look at this on our way out through the Nettles to Thistletop?”

“We know that necromancy was used in the theft of Father Tobyn’s remains.” Laranys spoke up first. “If there is a connection, pushing past this necromancer to Thistletop probably is not a good idea.”

“Agreed.” Caleb spoke up. “We cannot let ourselves get boxed in. Shalelu should be headed back from scouting out the goblin tribes. If we leave first thing in the morning we should be able to make it out there in time to catch up with her and coordinate our activities.”

“Does it matter if Shalelu is there?” Tessa was adding a touch of salt to her drink, staring absently across the table. “Sheriff Hemlock is back from Magnimar with his reinforcements. That is the only reason that we have not already gone after Tsuto and this Nualia he wrote about.”

“I agree with Tessa. We only need to worry about what we plan to do.” Athos signaled to one of the Dragon’s staff before he continued, “How far is it to this Thistletop?”

“Not completely sure. It is a small island just off the coast of the Nettles. Rumor has it the goblins have a bridge.” Caleb rubbed his brow in thought.

“You sure they are not using boats?”

Qakisst snorted at Athos’ question, “Imagine goblins on boats.”

“Good point.”

“What kind of supplies will we need?” Laranys fussed with her holy symbol.

“Food for three days at least. Probably horses to get us there as quick as possible so that we will not end up ambushed on the road.”

“I have to see Master Gandethus about a few scrolls.” The young waitress slid bowls of soup in front of everybody. The conversation continued well into the late afternoon as the party planned their journey to the Tors and Thistletop. Before it grew too dark, Qakisst excused himself to visit Master Gandethus at Turandarok for the scrolls he would need, Caleb made arrangements with Master Hosk for horses the next morning, and by sundown word had spread throughout the town that the Sandpoint heroes would be heading to Thistletop in the morning.

Upon returning to the Dragon, Qakisst found a handful of young ladies waiting to dance; despite the rumors of his poor behavior - that he was sure were making the rounds. With fewer suitors demanding his time, he kept to each partner for several minutes and would take breaks between. The normally exuberant dance that erupted any time Qakisst grabbed a partner continued even after he bowed to his current partner and turned towards the bar and the front door. The golden yellow dress of Laure sauntered across the space between and she took his hand.

“Last dance is mine tonight.” Laure smiled.

“This does not mean anything, Laure.” Qakisst’s eyes darted back and forth at the crowd.

“I am right here, Q. If you cannot stand to look me in the eyes you can at least stare down at my tits like a right proper young man.”

Qakisst nearly choked at the comment before looking into the slightly taller woman’s eyes, “Why would you say that?”

“Say what?”

“Say something so insulting about yourself.”

“Sweetie, I make a living entertaining men by being pretty. If I cannot laugh at myself every now and then all the praise they carelessly toss my way might go to my head.” The two continued in silence until the current song ended.

“I have to go. We have to leave early.”

“I know. Just promise you will tell me all about it when you get back.”

“I… uh… we will see when I get back.”

“This doesn’t mean anything, Q.” Laure smiled at him and the two parted. Qakisst grabbed his belongings and headed for home while Laure returned to the Pixie’s Kitten.

The Exchange

You find help in the strangest places.

Burnt Offerings: The Sacrifice:

The sun called to him, and Qakisst quickly answered. He had no time for dreams of epic glory among the clouds. He had packed his things the night before, and quickly cleaned himself for the day. Dressed in travel gear and with his new heavy duty backpack and spear he headed out the door. The quick walk to the Dragon made him sharp. Early autumn dew covered everything this morning, and there was a slight chill in the air. When he arrived; Laranys was well into breakfast as expected but the others were just gathering in the common room of the Dragon.

Qakisst noted that the tables and chairs had been moved into the center of the room as they had been arranged on the first evening of the Swallowtail Festival. Since he had begun hanging out in the evenings at the Dragon, her staff had eventually quit trying to move all of the tables back to the center of the common room after each night of dancing. Every night Qakisst was here, people pushed tables to the side to dance. He guessed that the staff had heard that he would be out of town for a while and figured that it would be safe to put things back to normal for a while. With the tables spread out through the common room, it looked cluttered to Qakisst.

He grabbed a couple of the hot plates that were being assembled on the bar and helped the serving girl carry them to the table. “Master Vishtani! Those are hot!” The young girl looked wide eyed as he picked them up.

“That is why it is best I carry them. I would not want you to burn your arms.”

“But if Bethana sees…”

“And please do not ever call me Master Vishtani again. You will make me feel my age.” The eternally young ifrit grinned at the new serving girl wondering why he had not danced with her yet. He glided smoothly across the floor and slid the two big plates in front of Athos and Caleb. “Careful, the serving girl says they are hot.” Qakisst then slipped into his own seat and leaned back so the young server could place the other three plates. Konnor appeared at his seat at almost the exact moment as the food arrived.

“Horses are all set, Caleb?” Athos spoke around his food. Potatoes and chopped vegetables with scrambled eggs covered each plate. Apparently Bethana had made sure that the cooks knew to feed the sextet well before their departure this morning.

“Yeah, right out front. Ol’ Hosk said to remind you to bring back plenty of ears for his collection.” Master Host, the stable owner, hated goblins even more than Caleb. He had placed a bounty on each set of goblin ears the party brought him, and though the coin was good Qakisst always felt slightly barbaric when he thought about it. The party had even retrieved the entire body of the oversized goblin creature with three arms from the catacombs beneath the town and had it stuffed and mounted for the stable master. It now graced the entrance to the stables, scaring away timid children and dogs.

“You did get me a different horse this time, right?” Qakisst’s previous encounter with one of Master Hosk’s spirited animals had been an uneasy ride while his feet became fodder for the wicked animal’s teeth.

“Master Hosk insisted to me that the horse you had before really likes you, Kisst.” Caleb laughed and ate quickly.

“Revenge will come one day, Caleb.” Qakisst was not a terribly bad rider, but he was not a terribly good rider either. The thought of fighting his mount all the way to Thistletop was not one he relished.

“Caleb, you have a wicked sense of humor.” The voice of Ameiko came from directly behind Qakisst; and he visibly paled when he heard it. “I want to wish all of you fair weather and good fortunes.”

The party thanked the proprietor greatly for her continuous hospitality. As she moved to leave Tessa leaned over to Qakisst, “You’re not looking well, Cousin. I can make you something for a sour stomach if you like.”

“Please.”

Fortunately Caleb had only been kidding. When they exited the Dragon, Qakisst found a more amiable mount waiting on him, and the sextet made its way up toward the north gate within minutes. As they headed up the street, more and more people started to gather. By the time they made it to Temple Square the streets were lined with well-wishers. Athos preened under the attention and Tessa cheerily waved at everybody. The others seemed a bit taken back by the attention. When they passed the gate they found guard Captain Bar Merik waiting on them, “Give ‘em one for me, guys.” His teeth had not healed quite straight after Tsuto had knocked them out escaping Sandpoint, and the young Captain clearly wished he could be accompanying the party to Thistletop.

The party quickly made its way through the gate, past the Shank’s Wood, and out to the Hinterlands. They moved slowly once they had gotten past the point where the Sandpoint Garrison normally patrols, not wishing to ride into an ambush. Shortly after reaching the Tors, they found a place to rest the horses shortly past midday.

“Something wrong, Kisst?” Caleb worked the feedbags for each horse as Qakisst studied the hilly woodlands to the south.

“I do not know. Ragnus said that his friend Silvanos would be waiting out here.” Qakisst’s gaze drifted up and down the tree line. “But nothing so far. No sign of your teacher Shalelu either. I do not like it.”

“What do you not like?” The voice seemed to come from inside his own head. “I dearly hope that it is not me. You all look so interesting.”

Caleb looked around, but Qakisst shook his head and slapped his temple with one hand. “Wait a minute…”

“Why do we need to wait a minute? And why are your thoughts in so many strange languages?” Qakisst heard the words in a sing-song mixture of Varisi and Kelish.

“Who is this?”

“I am Barnabas. Silvanos sent me.”

“Where are you?”

“Right here sitting on your friend’s horse. He is a nice horse, but he wishes that you had brought apples with you.”

The two heroes turned around to see, perched upon Caleb’s saddlebags, a slender purple reptile with a long flexible neck and rapidly flicking long tail attached to a nearly cat sized body with thin fine leathery wings stretched up to catch the rays of the sun. “Barnabas?”

“Yes, I said that already. Can you not hear my thoughts?”

“You are a dragon?” The chorus of Caleb and Qakisst’s voices brought the others from where they had been sitting in the shade nearby.

“Oh thank you! So few people appreciate my full grandeur.” Barnabas rose up on his hind legs, puffed out his chest, spread his wings, and raised his long neck high. “I am magnificent though, don’t you agree?”

“I do.” Qakisst looked amazed and Caleb was stunned speechless. Caleb’s horse continued to munch from his feedbag without care.

“What is going on?” Athos carefully moved towards the horse where Barnabas sat, unsure of how to react.

“Oh, kitty!” Tessa’s face lit up with excitement upon seeing Barnabas.

“Athos, this is Barnabas. I believe he is a friend of Ragnus and Silvanos. They are the druids that asked us to help out with this undeath business.” Qakisst gestured toward Barnabas at first, “Barnabas, this is Athos, and behind him are Tessa, Laranys, and Konnor. You have already met Caleb, and I am…”

“Can I pet him?” The tattooed Sylph eased up towards Barnabas oblivious to the conversation around her.

“You are Qakisst! My friend has told me of the boy with the spirit of fire and horns of a bull. He has also told me of Shalelu’s friend Caleb. I am glad to make all of your acquaintances.” Barnabas raised his head up high and stood upon his hind legs to look at everybody.

“I bet I can pet him.”

“It is speaking to me in Shoanti inside my head.” Athos looked dubiously at Barnabas. Barnabas squinted his eyes and glared back.

“Athos! Do not be rude.” Tessa slapped Athos in the back of the head. “Apologize to Master Barnabas before he stings you.” Tessa stepped to the side of Caleb’s horse where Barnabas sat, “It is a pleasure to meet someone so splendid.” Tessa seemed almost gleeful to meet the small reptilian Barnabas. “Can I pet you?” She was already running a finger along Barnabas’ crest.
“Please excuse Athos. We had thought that we would be meeting a druid from Ragnus’s order.” Laranys gave a light bow as she addressed the small dragon.

After a moment spent convincing Tessa to quit petting him like a cat; the party set about questioning the magical creature about the problem his woods were experiencing with the undead. Once establishing that Barnabas was indeed dealing with something from beyond the grave the party gathered their gear and headed south into the woods with Barnabas as a guide. It took the better part of the remaining day to locate tracks that lead to a small battlefield of sorts. Long dead skeletal remains of humans and goblins lay scattered about the forest floor among the tracks of a giant wolf and a booted humanoid.

Caleb carefully looked about the apparently recent carnage but found no recently dead bodies. Only the dry bones of the long dead. As he looked about the scene he spoke, “What do you think, Shalelu? Any chance that our necromancer is among these bones?”

The lithe elven form of Sandpoint’s most famous ranger stepped out onto a low tree branch some eight cubits up, “I was beginning to wonder if my teaching had failed you friend Caleb.” Gracefully Shalelu slipped down from the branches to stand beside Caleb. The others watched with some fascination. Caleb’s teacher was something of a legend in Sandpoint and though the party had met her once before in the Mayor’s office, they were still somewhat in awe of her. “No, I do not think your necromancer is among the victims here. I think instead that he is using his existing force to swarm bigger creatures that he can transform into new minions.” Qakisst shuddered in the background.

“Agreed.” Caleb flicked a femur away in disgust.

“I thought the plan was to meet in the Nettles and move to scout out Thistletop, Caleb.”

“It was, but we got asked to check into this along the way, and considering Father Tobyn’s remains were stolen by somebody familiar with necromancy, we did not want to risk walking past a force of undead and leaving our back to them when facing a goblin hoard.” Caleb stood up from where he had been kneeling. “These tracks head down that trail.”

“Hello Barnabas.” Barnabas had landed on Shalelu’s shoulder and was curled up across the back of her neck. “Are you enjoying Miss Tessa’s attention?”

“Hello Shalelu. Your apprentice is a wonderful tracker.” Barnabas cocked his head as Shalelu scratched his cheek below his eye. “Mm, you can keep doing that.”

“We need to follow a little deeper into the woods to make sure whatever did this is not a threat. Can you meet us in two days where the Nettle River enters the woods on the path to Thistletop? That will give us enough time to make sure that whatever this is does not follow us, and it will give us a chance to clear it out or at least an idea of where it is going in case we have to come back later.” If Caleb had any doubts, he did not let them show.

“Two days. That will give me a chance to scout the perimeter of the Nettles and see if I can find any paths the goblins themselves use. I will be there, Caleb. Have a care with this necromancer. I had seen nothing of him before this past month, now he seems to be growing bold.” Shalelu gestured to the ground around her. “Off with you, Barnabas. I cannot stay and play today.” As Shalelu reached up with her bow, Qakisst spotted the hook about the end of the elvish weapon. With it, Shalelu locked onto a firm branch and pulled herself up into the tree above her. “Two days.”

The heroes reassembled themselves and set out tracking the path leading away from the battlefield they had found. Unfortunately, night comes quickly in the woods and the party was forced to camp. No more than a few hungry wolves bothered them though. As soon as the first light peeked through the tree tops, the group was already moving. Even through the trees both Qakisst and Laranys had heard the call of the sun and roused everybody to move on. Their quarry was clever. It eluded them for some time, using streams and rocky outcrops to hide its passage; but with Barnabas helping, Caleb was finally able to trace the tracks to an old battlefield graveyard deep in the woods.

As they edged into the clearing, the party could hear chanting. Caleb and Konnor slipped forward stealthily to the back of a large mausoleum at the back of the clearing. On the far side of the graveyard, they saw a massive man-like creature in fine black and red robes performing a dark ritual over an altar while the decaying remains of a gigantic wolf like creature stood guard next to him. As the two slipped forward, the brutish man turned back to the mausoleum and froze. Fate had prevented Konnor and Caleb from sneaking up on the dangerous hobgoblin before he had turned toward the mausoleum.

Barnabas shouted a warning into the minds of the others and ducked down behind the roof of the mausoleum as the four other heroes rushed forward to help their friends. The ground throughout the cemetery erupted with skeletal figures and the battle was on. Before Laranys could get close enough to turn the power of Sarenrae against the undead abominations, the heroes found themselves scattered about and surrounded. When the necromancer raised his hand holding the dark symbol of Asmodeus the sextet realized their error. They were not on their own ground; they were fighting on his. As fast as Laranys might damage the undead abominations this dark cleric could restore them. The giant dead wolf attacked Athos viciously while the others fought their own enemies. First Qakisst fell, battered into unconsciousness by a rabidly dead wolf that then turned on Laranys. Then Tessa found herself surrounded by skeletons, standing upon the dark altar trying to rescue Caleb and Athos who were trapped by the massive undead canine and the dark cleric himself.

Things looked nearly lost until Laranys finally managed to destroy her attacker, then step forward and call on the power of the Dawnflower. The healing wave of celestial energy jolted Qakisst and Konnor awake in time to rescue Caleb while Tessa rained holy water onto those surrounding her. Athos struggled to get past the undead horrors to attack their master. But before he could get to the monstrous cleric, Qakisst’s burning hands and Tessa’s explosive chemicals convinced this necromancer to fight another day. His massive rotting wolf shouldered Athos aside and leapt for freedom along with its evil master. The necromancer promptly vanished from sight before Qakisst could stop him as the giant bestial wolf fled. Konnor realized what was happening and called forth the same glowing velvet light that he had used to thwart the quasit in the ruins under Sandpoint. The almost liquid-like flames coated the back of the fleeing beast and outlined the unseen necromancer clinging to its back. Tessa chased after him instantly followed by Qakisst.

The bestial dead wolf’s speed was incredible. In the forest it was as fast as a horse on open ground. Tessa’s unnatural quickness was not enough and she screamed in rage at the fleeing evil. From behind her Qakisst called out fireworks and sent them streaking forward to burst in the necromancer’s face. For a brief moment, it looked like that might work as the fleeing cleric fell stunned from his undead mount. But even staggered he managed to climb back upon his beast and disappear into the woods.

“TESSA STOP! TESSA!” Qakisst sent the last of the fiery snapdragon spell he had been attacking the necromancer with to burst just a few cubits in front of Tessa to stop her pursuit. On foot, none of them had any chance of keeping up with the unnaturally quick Tessa, and alone Tessa had no chance of surviving against the undead monster. Air around the storm-born Tessa popped and crackled with the electrical power of her temper as she glided to a stop and screamed at the too distant villain. “Tessa.” Qakisst gasped for air as he caught up to her. “What… what where… you… thinking.” Qakisst grasped his knees and sucked air.

“No more returning villains!” The wind whipped around Tessa in exasperation.

Qakisst laughed as he tried to breath.

The party, once they gathered together was badly battered and wounded. Laranys gathered them together and drew on as much of the power of Sarenrae as she could to heal them, but it was not enough to restore all of them to full health. Qakisst noticed how extensive the wounds taken by Caleb and Athos were and grimaced. His injuries had not been nearly so extensive when he was knocked to the ground unconscious. This bothered him somewhat, but he dismissed his unease as the group began to search the grounds of this ancient burial place and the mausoleum at its center.

Konnor checked the area about the entrance to the stone building and found nothing but the door slightly ajar. He and Qakisst looked into the dark room before opening the door further. Inside they found a dark complected woman with silver hair in the under padding of heavier armor bound and gagged. Konnor called for Laranys as Qakisst grabbed for a blanket and a dagger to cut her bonds. The others continued searching the area while Laranys and Qakisst helped the young woman free. The pair of them spotted the furry fox-like ears on the young lady and looked at each other as they helped her sit up.

“Can you stand, m’Lady?” The young woman confirmed that she could and she stood just a touch taller than Qakisst. Laranys helped her out of the mausoleum to sit in the grass under the warm sun. Once there, Qakisst excused himself and set to making a campfire. It was already late in the day, and he doubted that the party would be able to make it back to their last camp site. Caleb agreed and brought in the horses and helped set a proper camp. Barnabas flittered about their new charge examining her with great curiosity.

Konnor found the young woman’s gear in the tomb. She introduced herself as Sapphire, and her equipment marked her as a Shield Bearer of Iomedae. The young woman seemed wary of her rescuers and they did not fully know what to make of her. According to Sapphire, that morning she had been traveling along the edge of the Tors heading north along the Coast Road when she was set upon by undead abominations. Alone she had not been able to fend them off and they had captured her. The dark priest had promised to personally introduce her to Asmodeus this evening at sundown. Qakisst shuddered at the thought.

Years before in Korvosa, not knowing the religions of this land, he had spent more than one night in the shelter to the homeless attached to the temple of Asmodeus. All manner of terrible things were permitted, so long as you did not break the rules; or get caught doing so. Had it not been for a young tiefling named Nychell, he might have become a victim of the corrupt and desperate men that sought shelter there. He never knew why Nychell had followed him to the dark temple or why she had taken pity upon him to help. The two had become fast friends until she was caught lifting trinkets in the Korvosa markets. He had not seen Nychell since she was cast into Korvosa’s prison system 15 years ago. The mention of the dark worship of Asmodeus brought the memory back and made Qakisst cold.

Assessing their injuries, Caleb and Laranys decided that they would not only camp here the night, but would stay tomorrow and recover. Qakisst could not see any reason to disagree, but could not sleep inside the ancient mausoleum. The Kelish distrust of all things marked by undeath made it impossible for him to sleep while in the tomb. Sapphire looked at him sideways and said, “I would not have thought my rescuers to be so easily shaken.” Qakisst glowered at her, but did not comment.

Sleep was restless and difficult in the graveyard. His imagination had added a giant and a glorious rendition of the necromancer to his dream of the cloud city. By the second dawn, Qakisst was eager to leave this place. He rose early as the first hint of the sun calling to him touched his senses, began to pack away his gear, and clear the camp. Laranys rose next, finding roasted venison from a deer that Caleb had managed to hunt down the day before. Qakisst was not a good cook, but the day did not call for the White Deer’s famous peppercorn venison. Within half an hour, the party was packed and on the trail to Thistletop. They managed to make it clear of the woods shortly after noon and caught up to Shalelu in the early afternoon.

“You are late.” Lady Shalelu seemed both concerned and annoyed. Spotting the addition to the party, she frowned. Qakisst and Tessa had been forced to ride double as the two lightest party members. “That will do your horse no good.”

“Tessa weighs less than your bow, Shalelu; and we did not have much choice when we found Sapphire. We rescued her from the necromancer we had been looking for.” Caleb replied.

“Then your necromancer has been dealt with.”

“Unfortunately only temporarily. He fled riding the zombie of a worg before we could finish him. But we have his books and his sacraments to be turned over to the Cathedral in Sandpoint.” Caleb patted his saddlebags. “Now, have you had better luck than us?”

“If you mean have I found a path to Thistletop? I believe so. But it leads through a deep and heavy bramble where I will not be much good. Best I stick to the trees and make sure any reinforcements coming to this Nualia’s aid meet their end out here.”

“Close in fighting. Guess we will have to cope then. Let’s find a place to hide our horses where you can keep an eye to them as well.” Caleb looked around and said in elven, “If worse comes to it, you can use one to get back to Sandpoint for help.”

The Exchange

Our GM had wanted us to have a party of 6. I'm not sure why, but that was why we had been traveling with his GMPC up till this point. But along comes a pretty lady and we were a party of 7. SO allow me to introduce you to our newest member;

Sapphire Idyllkin, Shield Madden of Iomedae: Dark skin and silver hair mark a unique and unusual heritage. Her all too serious nature and the engraved emblem of the Inheritor on her breastplate make it clear to all that this woman is here to kick evil's ass. She has come to Varisia looking for a childhood friend turned sociopathic murderer; where the trail went cold as soon as she stepped off the boat in Magnimar. But the casual mention by a merchant in a tavern of a fallen aasimar up to no good at someplace called Thistletop has brought the overly bold paladin rushing right into more than she could handle alone.

Welcome to Sandpoint, Sapphire. Hope you survive the experience.

Burnt Offerings: The Brambles:

Sapphire looked up at the great mass of brambles beyond the troop that had rescued her not two days ago and sighed. It looked very much like her quest to find her old friend Onyx had hit a detour. The betrayal of the similarly angelic-touched girl she had grown up with was still a gaping mystery of pain for Sapphire. Onyx had gone on a killing spree that claimed Sapphire’s own parents before disappearing into the wilderness. Sapphire had gone to live with a distant uncle, who had trained her as a paladin of the Inheritor. For 10 long years Sapphire trained and mastered each task set before her, so that when she found Onyx she would be able to face her in battle and find what had caused her to fall so far. Sapphire had been looking for clues to Onyx’s whereabouts when she was ambushed by the necromancer. Now, her mission was on hold to face this new threat; unless Onyx turned out to be this Nualia that the Sandpoint adventurers were hunting. That would be bad; very bad.

Sapphire invoked a silent prayer to Iomedae as she listened to Caleb and Qakisst discuss a plan of action. The blonde elven archer they had met up with that morning moved out into the forest to hunt more goblins. When the fiery young sorcerer argued that he should go first, Sapphire raised an eyebrow. While she had not seen this group in action yet; the idea of the scrawny young boy crawling around in a goblin warren ahead of armored warriors made her scoff. After nearly thirty minutes of planning, Qakisst readied what was really a fancy hunting weapon and moved into the tunnel just ahead of her. Inside the warren they found short, narrow tunnels nearly clear of any brush. That made movement easier, but Sapphire and Qakisst were still stooped over, with Athos in a squat as they shuffled through the tunnels.

They moved slowly through the tunnels to the right until they entered a domed area of the thistles that surrounded a large hole in the ground. As the group moved into the thorny room and spread out around the hole, an eerie howl erupted from the pit and startled everyone. Sapphire studied her new companion’s reactions. Caleb turned cautiously to the pit readying his curved blades, as Athos braced his shield and readied his sword. The priest Laranys jumped slightly but held her ground, while the strange masked elf drew his weapons. The boy Qakisst snapped his spear into a ready position, though Sapphire noted that his hands shook. The boy was scared. Good. Fear can be healthy when controlled; and that he showed no false bravado helped Sapphire feel more comfortable with him being here. Stupid children bragged and got themselves killed in battle. Sapphire had no desire to witness any more needless deaths. It was the strange tattooed chemist’s reaction that most worried Sapphire.

As the others readied themselves for a possible encounter, Tessa leaned over the pit with the wind fluttering her hair and looked down. “It sounds like somebody is cranky this morning.” She then shrugged and stepped away. Looking around the gnarled room they saw two other entrances; one to the right behind the boy and one to the left at the back. Sapphire shook her head as the boy signaled to go right and ducked into the next bramble tunnel. She followed close behind him as he moved cautiously. She was not yet sure that the others had put her in this position out of trust or because they wanted to keep an eye on her. The fact that one of them was a cleric of Sarenrae made Sapphire willing to trust them enough to agree.

Qakisst led them through another short tunnel before it once more opened up into a room that allowed them to stand upright. The room stretched out before them, but had only one opening to the left, another tunnel of brambles. Sapphire could hear the sound of the surf coming clearly through the tunnel. As Qakisst slowly slipped out into the room, Sapphire found her eyes struggling to adjust as light spilled into the thicket from a hole in the bramble roof.

“Sikmek!” The sudden explicative startled Sapphire and she saw two disgusting rat-like beasts as large as dogs leap out. The feral creatures grabbed Qakisst by the legs and yanked his feet out from under him. He barely had a chance to stab at one with his spear before going down. Sapphire surged forward, struggling to get her greatsword clear of the bramble. Four more of the disgusting beasts rose from the background to charge her when suddenly, fire erupted around the boy on the ground.

“Great, you can cover yourself in the one thing I’m not resistant to!” Sapphire swung her great sword at one of the beasts trying to get at Qakisst. As she knocked the beast clear, she realized the fire was not coming from the sorcerer, but from the glass vials sailing through the tunnel from the back. She spared only a glance back to see Tessa readying another to throw as Caleb and Athos surged into the room to drive the goblin dogs back. With a wall of armor now blocking the beasts, Laranys knelt down to tend to Qakisst’s wounds. The strange masked elf leapt into the fray and soon the beasts had been defeated. “You okay, kid?” Sapphire gave Qakisst a worried glance. He had gone down so quickly to the goblin beasts that he had not even gotten a good shot in.

“I have been better, Sapphire.” Qakisst seemed annoyed at being called ‘kid’, but did not respond to the term as he moved to retake the lead in exploring the tunnels.

Sapphire cut him off. “No dice, kid. We almost lost you back there. Let somebody with a little more armor go first.”

“You won’t be able to swing that giant butter knife in there.” Qakisst looked indignant, but Caleb put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “Fine, take this then.” He offered his spear to Sapphire who pulled a dagger out while smiling.

“I’m good, kid. You’ll need that soon enough and I can drop the dagger to swing this as soon as I’m clear of the brambles.” Sapphire locked eyes with Qakisst and saw something unexpected. The boy was not just scared. He hid it well, but he was in awe. Not just envious, but he really looked up to the warriors around him. Sapphire had seen that look in others before; even remembered it in her own youth while training with her uncle. Qakisst felt unworthy. He was not living up to what he thought others expected of him. She knew right then that he would need to be watched closely. Young men like that got in over their heads easily while trying to prove themselves. “Relax Quakiss. You’re doing fine.”

The tunnel out of the room led north and south, with the sound of the surf to the north. To prevent being surprised from behind, Sapphire chose to explore to the south first. Shortly she found herself in a musky small room that appeared to be some kind of animal’s den. With a sudden intake of breath, Sapphire saw a large cat raise itself out of a nest at the back wall, its hair a mix of black and red stripes.
The cat leapt at Sapphire with a wicked yowl with such speed that she was taken aback. She brought her sword pommel around and punched at the cat as it tried to bowl her over; bracing herself for the big cat’s impact. The creature bit deep then leapt away as she struck it a glancing blow. Sapphire found it odd. ‘Was this a wild animal living with the goblins? Had one of them trained it? That would be impressive.’

From the back of the room a goblin in leathers stepped out to survey the heroes filing into the room to do combat with the cougar. Something was not right. While Sapphire did not have great experience fighting goblins, this one seemed too calm, too assured. A bolt of fire shot past the cat at her from the goblin’s fingers as it laughed maniacally. “Crap! He’s a spell slinger!” The fire hurt, but caused little real damage. That did not change the fact that she was trapped in a giant tinder box with a crazed pyromaniac; three pyromaniacs really.

Qakisst stepped up beside Sapphire, shaking his head and readying his spear as he send a bolt of fire back at the weird goblin. The young boy was jumping right back into the fray with her already. Was it bravery or stupidity? One of Tessa’s explosive vials sailed across the room to strike the cat in a burst of fire as the masked elf rushed across the room followed by Caleb. Sapphire moved to join them in the charge now that reinforcements had joined her. Athos had been rear-guard so he was last into the room and hemmed the cat in from the other side.

Just as Konnor reached the goblin it bellowed strange words that tickled her memories. Sapphire could feel the divine touch of worldly magics that told her this goblin likely had power over nature. At his command, the bramble around them came to life reaching out to grapple them all, hampering their movement and scarring them with thorns.

“Druid!” somebody shouted, though Sapphire was not sure who. The bramble slowed her movements as she struggled to chase after the cat. It did not seem to be having any problem, as it clawed at Athos’ shield. A bolt of fire shot past her setting the feline on fire. As it collapsed, she looked back with anger at Qakisst. It had not been the animal’s fault that its master was a monster. Sapphire saw the look of sadness upon his face and held her tongue while turning her attentions toward the cat’s goblin master.

“Kaki Kusut!” The wicked druid called out and stepped back into the bramble wall as Konnor and Caleb swung at it, cutting into the brush.

Sapphire growled in anger. She knew that beyond the wall to her left should be the cliffs overlooking the sea, and too far in front of her would be the more open forest and the elven ranger called Shalelu. That meant that the little bastard would be trying to get around them to the bridge she had just glimpsed behind her. “He’ll try to get around us to the bridge!” She turned and struggled to pull free of the still living brambles grasping at her. The thorns hurt. As she turned back toward the tunnel leading to the pit she saw Qakisst trying to burn the bramble-vines gripping at his feet, as Athos struggled to bull his way through. Caleb slashed with his kukri to cut his way clear and Laranys had pulled her scimitar to hack at the writhing, thorn covered vines. Only Konnor and Tessa seemed to have any freedom of movement, and that was just barely.

It took several minutes to fight clear of the vines, just as they stopped grasping at her. The enchantment had obviously run its course now that they were free; which caused Sapphire to mutter under her breath before turning to Caleb, “Can you find any new tracks? I didn’t see it run across this room, but the little bastard could have stayed inside the brambles. He seemed to move freely.”

Caleb knelt to the ground and scanned the area about him. “No, we were the last ones through this area. Maybe if we go down the other path we can still cut him off.”

Sapphire turned up the tunnel, dagger in her right hand and greatsword ready in her left should she get clear. The group moved slowly still searching for their runaway goblin through the narrow back of the warren. The thicket grew dark inside, but Sapphire did not mind. Her heaven-sent eyes could see in much darker places so she had no problem spotting the difference in the wall to her right as the tunnel curved around to the left. Carefully she extended her greatsword through a curtain of vines and pushed them aside. She found a small watchpost chamber that had a spectacular view of the Varisian Gulf and the island of Thistletop to the north.

Sapphire led the group beyond the watchpost and found an open room that stank of smoke. Then all hell broke loose. A great commotion sounded as a dozen goblins scrambled to grab weapons. “Lindungi Gogmurt! Hentikan tangkai panjang!” One of the ragged goblins bellowed as he leapt to his feet in front of the druid that they had been chasing. Almost like a wave the goblins began to surge forward and arrows flew from the goblins in the back.

Sapphire pushed forward dropping the dagger and bringing her greatsword up to slash through a goblin while Caleb moved to her left to prevent them from flanking her. Good. He knew how to fight in a group. Athos took to her right just as Caleb had her left and cut a goblin in half. “Well done, you actually hit it this time!” Sapphire yelled out mockingly to the big warrior. Out of the corner of her eye Sapphire saw a glass vial sail through the air and envelop another goblin setting those around him alight. As she brought her sword up for another swing she spotted Qakisst stepping up to her right next to Athos with his spear in one hand and his other outstretched in front of him.

Fire fanned out from Qakisst’s outstretched hand enveloping several goblins and sending them to Pharasma. As the goblins collapsed in flames he pulled a parchment from a side pouch on his pack and turned to move towards the goblin druid.

Sapphire turned to her left, now that the goblins to the right were a smoking pile of dead and slashed through the closest goblin. She could see Caleb charging though the small hoard determined to reach the druid before he could slip into the brambles again. Athos had taken out the goblins to the far left, Laranys and Konnor had eliminated the stragglers on the right, and another bomb cleared the goblins guarding the druid just as he cast a spell.

Sapphire was certain she had just learned a goblin curse word as the druid saw his remaining defenders fall, “Tahi!” He turned to step into the bramble with a look of anger and fear when Sapphire heard more strange words come from behind her. Qakisst held up the parchment he had pulled out seconds before. The parchment burst into an eerie blue flame and disintegrated. The druid tipped his head back as he stepped for the safety of the brambles and slumped to the ground. Sapphire stopped short. ‘Did that just happen?’ Inches from escape, did he just lie down and curl up to take a nap.

“Nice one, Junior.” Tessa stepped forward with a wicked smile. “Hey Mystery Boy, I bet you have a shit load of silk rope we can truss this little brush monkey up in.

“What just happened?” Athos looked as confused as Sapphire felt as he spoke.

“Did you do that, cousin?” Caleb looked over at Qakisst as he knelt to examine their new captive.

“Yeah. I am a little surprised it worked.” Qakisst brushed ash from his hands where the paper had disintegrated. “Divine casters are notoriously strong willed. I just could not think of anything else that might stop him from jumping back into the brambles.” He blushed slightly as he looked around.

“What was that, kid?” Sapphire looked at Qakisst with a wry grin.

“A simple sleep spell. I think I picked up the scroll on market day last week. Was not sure how useful it would be.”

“Keep that handy, kid.”

“I wish I could. I only had the one scroll for that spell.”

“Oh well. It worked out well enough.” Sapphire moved to check out the rest of the room to make sure they were safe. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Konnor carefully binding the druid before he could wake. Tessa walked up holding a large sack.

“I guess we can reunite the two of them once that creepy little bastard is bound up.” Tessa smiled as she struggled to hold up the sack. “Should I let the cat out of the bag now? He wasn’t dead, so I thought I’d bring him along just in case.” Sapphire allowed herself a small smile. She had always felt a connection with animals and nature.

Once they had bound the goblin Caleb had slapped him awake as Konnor and Qakisst knelt next to him. As Caleb asked questions Konnor poked at the little green bastard with a knife and Qakisst pulled out a couple of pairs of workman’s pliers. Sapphire watched as the three of them learned that the creature was named Gogmurt and he had once been the right hand goblin to Chief Ripnugget, the ruler of Thistletop. He had been exiled for criticizing Ripnugget’s support of Nualia. The interrogation was swift, even a little brutal. A bit too vicious, Sapphire thought, but as she stared at their prisoner her eyes lost focus and she saw his aura. Black; black as the dark abyss. Any sympathy for the foul goblin left her and she left the trio to extract what information they could.

They spent nearly an hour grilling their prisoner before they were done. Unfortunately, Gogmurt had been able to send out a pre-determined warning to Ripnugget that the party had breached the bramble thicket. The enemy knew they were here. ‘So much for the element of surprise.’

A quick inspection of the goblin’s equipment afterward turned up a few surprises too. A pair of wands that could prove useful; and a hand full of magical trinkets. One of the wands allowed the wielder to transform himself into a bush or plant for a time; the other created great gouts of fire. None of them could get either to work except Konnor, who seemed to have a knack for making unusual magics work. The group went back to where they had found Gogmurt and discovered the promised rope bridge across the bay to Thistletop Island. They set a guard and Qakisst spread caltrops across the area in front of the bridge. With evening approaching the party settled in to wait out the night in the small alcove Gogmurt had originally been hiding in because crossing the bridge in the dark when goblins could see at least as well as Qakisst and Sapphire at night was too dangerous.

Athos and Caleb took the first watch without event. Just before midnight Athos woke Sapphire and Tessa for the late night watch. To Sapphire’s surprise, Tessa’s darkvision was at least equal to hers. Tessa chose to set up just inside the entrance to the brambles, right across from the bridge. Nothing would be able to enter the brambles without disturbing Tessa or the caltrops. Sapphire decided to watch from the lookout to the west where she could see the entirety of the bridge.

Sapphire sat upon the outcrop in a comfortable position and set to the ready trance she had learned from her uncle. Making your mind aware of your surroundings and the passage of time while learning to ignore that passage was a required skill for paladins of Iomedae; who commonly stood long watches in dangerous territories. Sapphire settled in and set her mind to the simple mental exercises and let the night pass as she absorbed the happenings around her. The subtle noises of the night registered in her mind as did the faint ocean breeze. Scattered clouds had drifted into the area and Sapphire thought she saw the distant flash of lightning to the north along with the rumble of thunder. But something was not right. The faint sound of thunder came too quickly with the flicker of lightning.

Sapphire stood up, feeling like the world was wrong somehow when the faint ring of metal on metal registered with her. “Damn!” The realization that she had not seen lightning in the distance struck her. That had been one of Tessa’s bombs going off. But nothing had crossed the bridge. Where had they come from? Squatting down Sapphire rushed through the bramble tunnels as fast as she could; now regretting her choice of watch points.

By the time Sapphire reached the tunnel Tessa had been guarding, Tessa was trapped against the far side of the brambles. The others had already awoken and rushed to her aide; but they were being overwhelmed by four goblins in armor riding the same kind of strange rat-dogs that the party had fought earlier. Qakisst was down, overwhelmed by the goblin riders and their mounts. Caleb and Athos were desperately trying to reach Tessa as the toughest looking of the mounted goblins pressed the attack with his morningstar while another rider was attacking beside the leader. Laranys struggled to reach for Qakisst’s hand to pull him free while Konnor struggled to distract the riding beast standing over him; as its rider attacked Konnor. The fourth rider paced back and forth in the back of the pack.

“IOMEDAE!!!” Sapphire charged in, bull rushing into the beasts as she slashed with the massive great sword she carried. The unexpected reinforcement pushed the beasts and their riders back. As soon as Tessa was able to get clear she began throwing explosive vials at the beast standing over Qakisst. Fire erupted around the riding beast; but the scorching flames did not hurt the fire born sorcerer. The beast reared back, nearly throwing its rider as it danced away from the flames. As Sapphire slashed at the regrouping goblins Laranys called up the healing energies of her goddess. The light of Sarenrae stopped just short of the goblins and Sapphire heard a grunt from beside her feet.

“Goddess, I wish that did not hurt so much.” Fire flickered across Qakisst’s body as he sat up coated in Tessa’s volatile chemistry. He shook his head and sent a gout of flame arcing across the bramble cavern to strike one of the beasts. “Where in the abyss did you disappear to?” There was no anger in Qakisst’s tone, more concern; but Sapphire berated herself inside.

“Watching the bridge from the far end!” She yelled at him though the anger was for herself. Sapphire felt a gut wrenching sense of guilt at nearly failing to keep her companions safe. As Athos pushed to her right to cover Tessa, Sapphire called upon the righteous anger that she carried her soul and brought her greatsword down upon the goblin rider before her. Her heavy blade crashed through its armor and sent the beast under it scrambling lest it be cut in twain as well.

As Sapphire released her anger on the enemy she heard a startled cry behind her, “HEY!” Glancing back she saw Caleb yanking Qakisst clear and nearly tossing him back into Laranys’ arms as he pushed up next to her to try to stop any of the goblins from fleeing back across the bridge. Fireworks began flying past her head to smash into the goblin riders and their beasts as Tessa sent her own explosives sailing out to engulf the farthest rider. As it turned to run back across the bridge its riding beast collapsed under it and the goblin tumbled from the bridge in surprise.

Caleb pressed the advantage of the sudden fireworks show to cut down the leader of their adversaries just as Athos and Konnor cut down the last of the riders. A tight scrum of melee filled the area right before the bridge and the riding beasts began to skitter and jump, trapped in the space Qakisst had scattered caltrops earlier in the night.

“Watch your feet, everybody.” Athos’ warning was not needed, but punctuated the situation as the last of the mounts was permanently brought to heel.

“Is everybody okay?” Laranys moved to help Caleb, who was bleeding from several deep cuts even as she spoke.

“I am very sorry.” Sapphire looked down at her feet as she gripped her sword tightly in her left hand.

“For what?” Athos turned to her. “You were watching the other entrance, right?

“I was watching the bridge from the overlook at the far end. But I didn’t see anything. I must have fallen asleep. I can’t see how I would have missed those things crawling across the bridge.”

Tessa knelt to scrape samples of blood from the rocky ground. “Don’ beat yourself up. I didn’t see them either. If one of them hadn’t stepped on one of Junior’s jacks just inside the entrance they might have walked right past me.”

“What?” Several people replied as one to Tessa’s admission.

“I think it was some kind of illusion covering them. I heard the first yelp and realized the bridge was creaking so I lit the entry up with a firebomb. When it outlined two of the riders and their mounts I screamed bloody murder to get anybody’s attention.”

“Illusion? Okay, I got watch now.” Sapphire watched Qakisst bury any doubts and clear the area he planned to sit for the last watch.

“Check their gear for anything magical first, Q. We’ll dump the bodies and the rest of the junk down the pit in the middle of the bramble.” Athos gathered up anything that looked even remotely useful for Qakisst to examine.

After quickly sorting what little of use the goblin riders had on them the party retired to the small den where Gogmurt still lay bound tightly. To further protect the party, Konnor used the wand that they had confiscated from the goblin druid to transform himself into a part of the bramble blocking the warren that the party was resting inside of. Just after sunrise Sapphire felt a nudge from Laranys to wake her for the morning. She heard a faint rapping noise from outside their hiding place where Qakisst must be rousing Konnor in his enchanted bramble form.

The others proved a bit more difficult to roust, but were soon awake. The party had agreed that the best time to try and cross the bridge would be with the sun at their backs. While everybody prepared, Qakisst went to gather up his caltrops and was waiting for them at the bridge. Before joining him, the party turned over their goblin prisoner, Gogmurt, to Shalelu. There had been some argument over what to do with the disgusting little reprobate. Caleb had wanted to simply toss his vile ass down into the pit where they could hear some feral beast; but somebody pointed out that dropping a druid in with an unknown creature was not necessarily a death sentence. In the end, Sapphire, Qakisst, and Laranys managed to convince the group to turn Gogmurt over to Shalelu. As they marched the little bastard out to his new warden, Sapphire could swear she saw Caleb smiling.

Once assembled at the bridge; the group briefly discussed the best order to cross in. Konnor, being the most agile, went first. The bridge was a rickety rope contraption obviously of goblin origins, but with surprising ease Konnor made it across and found a pair of unsecured guide lines that stabilized the bridge. With little problem the party, one at a time, crossed the 100 yard gap. There they found a small cleared area in front of a wood and stone structure, not more than 10 cubits from the bridge.

When no alarm sounded the party began a careful search of the structure for a way in. Their efforts did not remain undisturbed long though. Some of the goblin beasts prowled the island; and had come looking to see what was making noise around the fort’s entrance. Though not a serious threat, the noise from defeating them roused guards that should have been watching the bridge for intruders. Goblins were notoriously nocturnal creatures, and the rising sun that called to Laranys and Qakisst had made them drowsy. The lax discipline displayed by the goblin guards allowed Konnor and Caleb a chance to scale the walls and kill the guards while the others harried them with arrows and bolts.

“We’re sitting ducks down here, guys!” Sapphire yelled up to Caleb and Konnor as she covered for Laranys and Qakisst on one side. Athos covered them with his shield on the other.

Qakisst yelled up to Konnor as he struggled with a dagger he had wedged into the door, “The door is cross-barred! You will have to open it from the inside for us!”

Caleb and Konnor disappeared from view and a few minutes later smoke began oozing out of the cracks as a commotion began behind the door. Qakisst swore in some language Sapphire did not recognize then grabbed Athos, “Athos, break it down!” The big fighter stepped back holding his shield up in case any more goblin archers should find their way up to the gatehouse towers and slammed his shoulder into the door. It did not budge. Sapphire tried as well, with similar results.

The commotion behind the barred entry to the keep grew louder. Athos pulled his long blade and grumbled at Qakisst, “Out of the way” just before jamming the blade into the same crack Qakisst had tried to use a dagger in to move the crossbar blocking the door.

“I already tried that…” With a great heave, Athos jolted the crossbar free of its hooks and it clattered to the floor. “Show off.” Qakisst scowled at Athos even as he stepped out from behind the door.

Laranys and Tessa yanked the door open as Athos, Qakisst, and Sapphire rushed into the room. Smoke billowed out and goblins ran everywhere in confusion. Sapphire instinctively whipped her greatsword around gutting the closest goblin without even slowing. Athos smashed one to the ground with his shield and called out for Conner and Caleb, “Hey, guys. Stop burning the place down. That’s Tessa’s job.”

Qakisst impaled a goblin as Sapphire cleaved another. The three desperately searched through the smoke for Konnor and Caleb; quickly clearing the goblins from their post. Tessa entered the now clear gatehouse and the winds whipped through the door to clear the smoke. Sapphire watched the smoke fleeing Tessa and thought, ‘That’s damned handy.’

Beyond the cleared smoke Caleb and Konnor appeared on the other side of the room with a pile of goblin bodies in front of the door the pair had been fighting through. Sapphire surveyed the carnage and noted the satisfaction in Caleb’s eyes. That boy had a definite hate-on for goblins. ‘I bet there’s a story behind that’ she mused to herself. Athos and Qakisst were searching bodies along with Konnor. They tossed most of the crude equipment without a second thought, but examined a few select pieces more before selecting a hand full of items with some value. Pinned to the wall were a great set of black feathered wings, like something from a foul harpy or fallen angel. Qakisst climbed up on a rickety chair and yanked a dagger free that had been pinning the wings in place, examined it and smiled.

“Find something useful, kid?” Sapphire grabbed the back of the rickety chair to stabilize it for Qakisst.

“Maybe.” Qakisst held the dagger up for her eyes. The pommel was molted and the blade tarnished. At the end sat a dusty white sphere. “Thanks. “ He stepped down from the chair which promptly collapsed as Sapphire let go. “I think this might be a real pearl. Blade still looks good too. Just needs cleaning up and re-strapped and it will be good as new.” Sapphire shrugged and the two of them followed Caleb and the others down the left corridor after Konnor had checked the two doors in the back center wall. Both were locked, so they had decided to move on.

Moving down the left hall, the party dispatched a number of additional goblins quickly. Nualia’s feared goblin hoard was turning out to be a dud until Konnor heard a voice behind one door. The guttural voice spoke goblin, but definitely did not sound goblin. Caleb and Athos decided to leave the door locked and closed for now while searching the rest of this level of the structure. Konnor slid a fine wedge into the lock to disable it; keeping whomever was speaking contained. The group then turned back to check the hall leading back to the right out of the gate house. Konnor and Caleb had already explored part of that hall when they had scaled the wall to enter from behind the gatehouse. Quietly the group moved down to the end where Caleb motioned up to the right across a flight of stairs.
“Gate tower is back up there.” Caleb’s soft whisper carried surprisingly well. Motioning for Konnor to move to the right, Caleb followed with Athos on his heels. Laranys, Tessa, and Qakisst followed them with Sapphire guarding the rear.

They must be over-eager or they are no longer concerned about me; Sapphire thought to herself. This thought startled her a little after the previous night’s near debacle. She watched closely as Konnor checked the two doors at the end of the hall. The locked door turned out to be a goblin larder containing all too recognizable types of meat. These goblins were truly despicable and disturbing in Sapphire’s eyes. So far no there was no sign of this Nualia or the other ’longshanks’ Gogmurt had said were present. Was it possible that they had abandoned the place without the vile little goblin druid knowing? Or had he been deceiving them to divert their attentions?

Beyond the other door Caleb was able to discern voices speaking goblin describing the attack on Sandpoint, with much embellishment as to the success of the goblins in battle. Konnor flung open the door and rushed into the room with Tessa on his heels sending a small glass vial sailing into the room. Goblin voices cried out in rage and pain as the entire heroes struggled to break into the room through the narrow doorway. What Sapphire found when she was finally able to push forward into the room stopped her momentarily with disbelief. Inside the makeshift throne room rode Thistletop’s would be ruler, Ripnugget, King of the Goblins mounted on the biggest slimiest lizard-like thing Sapphire had ever imagined. She blinked twice as the massive creature rushed up the walls with Ripnugget tied to the saddle that was strapped to the creature. From the ceiling Ripnugget struck down at Konnor; knocking him back hard. A goblin wearing a ragged robe in the back pointed his finger at Konnor while chanting and the elven boy caught fire and went down.

Caleb tried to engage Ripnugget; but the king’s bizarre mount gave it too much mobility. Athos dove into the combat with what must have been Ripnugget’s personal guard while another goblin in the back began a foul battle chant. Sapphire picked a target and waded into the battle, trying to maneuver in front of the goblin king’s path, but his bizarre mount let him swarm up and down the walls and across the ceiling. Cutting him off was proving near impossible. Laranys rushed to Konnor’s side to attempt to heal him, but the foul goblin caused the priestess to catch fire like Konnor before her. Tessa helped Laranys put out the fire on her and Konnor. As Sapphire battled one of Ripnugget’s guards she spotted Qakisst dashing into melee again. She cursed to herself at the boy’s recklessness and powered her blade through the goblin in her way.

“Boy! Keep your distance!” Sapphire’s cry was too late as Ripnugget charged across the floor knocking the young ifrit to the ground. The too fast lizard beast suffered for it though. Even as Qakisst collapsed to the ground, the too big salamander impaled itself on his spear throwing its rider to the ground. “Damn it boy!” Sapphire charged at Ripnugget as he rolled to his feet like an expert rider; meeting both she and Athos blow for blow.

Caleb dispatched the remainder of Ripnugget’s guards, but one of the magic casting goblins stepped up and healed Chief Ripnugget. As Sapphire bellowed out a call to her patron, “For Victory!” she slashed down at the goblin king. The king still stood, wounded and snarling at them all. The sting of Laranys’ healing magics rushed over Sapphire as she hemmed Ripnugget, now grounded and hurt, back into an angry Caleb and Athos.

“In the corner, sorcerer!” Qakisst called out, but Sapphire saw nothing against the curtain. ‘Curtain, when did that get there?’ Sapphire thought as fire shot out from the behind the curtain into the party. Caleb and Athos struck at Ripnugget, just as Konnor slipped in behind the goblin king and put an end to Ripnugget’s reign. Sapphire looked about. Something was missing. Her mind counted bodies and her companions were all standing, but something was missing.

Fire leapt out from Qakisst’s hands as he stepped into the curtain. The flames lit up the back of the room spoiling the illusion that covered the back wall. In the light of the fire Sapphire saw a door open briefly and a goblin form outlined in fire screamed, then fell. The illusory curtains faded from sight revealing the two colorfully clad goblins. One lay with a crossbow bolt sticking out of its neck; and the other burned to a crisp in the doorway. Sapphire looked around to see Laranys reloading a light crossbow.

“Did we get them all? Are we done yet?” The cleric panted with excitement still as the others looked about them

Exhausted and battered; the group gathered anything that looked to have value and Qakisst picked through it for anything magical or salvageable. “I am beat. I do not know that we should press forward.” Sapphire summoned Iomedae’s blessings to heal her own wounds and looked around her at the others. Laranys was helping the others patch up wounds and heal any injuries too severe to be left until later.

“I think we’re done for the day; still no sign of Nualia though.” Caleb paced around the room like a caged wolf.

“I would rather not be caught in such an undependable place as this room.” Athos gathered the things Qakisst had sorted out and stuffed them into his pack. We will be better off defending the bridge and the bramble. There’s no telling how many crawlspaces there are around here.”

“And we left that one door locked. That’s still at our back.” Konnor flexed his arms to get some motion back after being healed. “I still have Grogybottom’s wand. I can hide us in the briar patch with ease.

“Agreed.” Laranys gathered her healer’s kit and the group readied itself before they withdrew back across the bridge to the brambles to rest another night. Tucked within a hidden warren of the bramble the party rested the night. As darkness descended; Konnor once again coaxed the druid Gogmurt’s wand into transforming him into a part of the bramble. Nothing further intruded upon the group that night.

The Exchange

Burnt Offerings: Shadows in the Depths of Thistletop:

Athos woke to Qakisst shaking his shoulder after a restless night in the goblin brambles. Was it sunrise already? Athos began to ready himself for the day’s assault back into Thistletop.

“The wand ran out of charges last night. I won’t be able to block the entrance to this portion of the thicket anymore.” Konnor threw the now worthless stick to a surprised Qakisst.

Athos could not help but think, ‘Blessed Desna, may we not have to take shelter in this accursed briar patch again.’ After a quick meal, the group finished packing their camp and moved out only to find the rope bridge to the island had been cut during the night. The enemy had tied off a rope to the other side of the bridge and lowered it down from the Thistletop side so that Sandpoint’s heroes would have to climb down the bridge, then scale the rope to get back to Thistletop.

“Can anyone see any goblins watching for us? I think I can get down the rope and back up.” Konnor was squinting in the early morning light.

“I don’ see anything, Caleb?” Athos was searching the towers and ramparts of the goblin palisade.

“No, nothing. Go on down, Konnor, but be careful.” As Caleb scanned the fortified ramparts across the bay, Tessa looked down the ledge to the shore below them.

“Do you bounce, Mystery Boy?” She cocked an eyebrow at Konnor as he began his descent.

Konnor quickly made it to the base of the bridge, but slipped more than once while climbing the thinner guideline as he climbed up the other side. Laranys’ gasped each time; fortunately Konnor had tied himself off to the guideline, and did not fall when he slipped. After nearly a heart wrenching hour; Konnor finally made it all the way to the top. Once there he began to haul the bridge up; nearly being pulled over by the weight of the bridge itself. Konnor was able to secure the bridge back into its place and one by one the rest carefully walked across hoping it would hold their weights.

After once again un-barring the gate they carefully began to re-explore the goblin palisade. “Looks like several goblins and a larger humanoid have been through here since we left. I hope they enjoyed our handiwork.” Caleb was intently studying the tracks on the ground.

The seven heroes moved quickly to the throne room where they had battled Ripnugget to find them greatly disturbed overnight. Moving on to the goblin chief's quarters behind the throne room; a quick search revealed an old key and a holy symbol of a dark god. Off of the throne room, they found the goblin armory. There was little of value except a lone dogslicer that Qakisst said was worth keeping. Moving back towards the front of the fort to inspect those few rooms that they had found locked or sealed the party discovered the goblin food stores. The room reeked of vinegar as a barrel of pickles appeared to have been broken open at some point in recent days.

“Disgusting creatures.” Laranys grimaced at the sight.

“Hey! Pickles!” Konnor gathered up several apparently still good pickles and munched one as the party continued.

When they arrived at the last door in the west hall; where they had heard a gruff voice in goblin the day before; they heard nothing. Konnor tripped the lock and slowly eased the door open for Caleb. As Caleb led them into an open courtyard in the west of the complex, he found himself swarmed by goblin dogs, led by an evil looking massive black wolf that he later identified as a worg. The group quickly put them to the sword and discovered another door that had been nailed shut. Behind the door they discovered a great black stallion; wounded, near starved, and very angry after days locked into what was no more than a closet. After Caleb was unable to calm him, Konnor lured him out with some pickles from the storage room and he stopped trying to attack. Athos and Caleb spread some grain for the horse to eat and found a bucket for water. Both Caleb and Sapphire warned the others not to overfeed the poor beast, lest he founder.

As they went on searching the compound, they found some kind of meeting room, a room containing various gear for use in training goblin dogs, a filthy barracks of sorts, a ‘privy’ that would disgust the strongest of stomachs, and two sets of stairs leading lower into the island. Upon a closer inspection of the foul privy, Caleb discovered a secret compartment. There he found a large rusted sea chest that contained the goblin tribe's treasures. Konnor spotted a trap on the chest, but in trying to disarm it a rusted blade sprang free and stabbed him.

“You better clean that cut out, Konnor; that cut looks nasty.” Laranys looked over Konnor’s shoulder at a distance, holding her nose.

“Whatever” was all Konnor replied and he pulled out the key from Ripnugget’s private room to open the chest and pull out its treasures.

Inside the chest were a great number of coins, some gems and jewelry, a fine silken gown, and what appeared to have been the equipment of a cleric of Sarenrae. “Blessed Dawnflower, please look after this poor victim’s soul in the beyond.” After what surely befell this lost cleric at the hands of these goblins, Laranys looked decidedly upset.

After a quick discussion, the party decided to take the northernmost set of stairs. Descending into the depths of the island they found ancient architecture that appeared similar to that of the Catacombs under Sandpoint. The room at the bottom of the stairs appeared to be some kind of war planning room. It had a large map of Sandpoint on the slate hung from the wall, as well as many notes discussing various attack ideas. The plans seemed to include goblin tribes from several days travel away, as well as a reference to the "whispering beast" that would lead the charge while sinspawn attack from the catacombs. Caleb estimated that such an attack would be a few hundred goblins strong. No one was certain what to make of the “whispering beast”.

One of the two doors in the room was barricaded against entry, so the group continued on through the other. In the next room they found crude goblin artwork that hinted at some kind of goblin ‘god’ that dwelled at the heart of the island.

“Really? A giant goblin god to fight? This should at least make for a good story. Hey Caleb, you’ll be able to update your campfire resume when we get done.” Athos was once more impressed by Tessa’s ability to make light of any situation anywhere.

“Are you ever serious, Tessa?” Athos looked down at the goblin graffiti.

“Always, big guy. Caleb’s resume is truly in need of serious updating since he’s still telling that ‘four on one’ story of his.” Tessa turned to follow the others as Athos followed her.

Further up the hall they found doors decorated with monsters being birthed by creatures of all races. Laranys looked all around the great double doors, “This is likely a temple to Lamashtu; Mother of Monsters.”

“I vote we clear out any possible lurkers behind us before we step into a rat’s nest like an evil temple. There’s no telling what we’ll find behind that door.” Sapphire motioned back up the hall to a side passage.

Several feet back into the side passage they found a well-oiled door that led into a more natural cave structure with smooth walls. They could smell the salt air from the open sea; which led them to a well-worn cavern that looked out over the Varisian gulf. The cave entrance was still dozens of cubits above the surface though. While examining several side caves to the north, Konnor and Qakisst were attacked by a tentacled creature that made this its lair. Athos had heard of the foul tentamort before; but seeing one first hand revolted the Shoanti warrior. Like a dark blue squid that had grown to man-sized, it reached out with its two long tentacles while glaring at them through its red eyes. Fortunately no one was infected by its poisonous stinger, and the creature was put down. Buried in the debris of the creatures cave Qakisst’s strange vision found a dead goblin in magical hide armor; apparently made from a skinned dog. Among the goblin’s possessions they discovered a still serviceable short bow.

Once done with the tentamort they returned to the cavern over the bay and followed a side path. Buried deep back into the rock they found themselves in a goblin store room of sorts. Much of the trash here looked to be scavenged from Sandpoint’s trash heaps. Only a goblin could find use for the junk squirreled away here.

Konnor carefully peaked through a crack in the door to their right leading from the storeroom. There was light beyond; but he could not see anything. Signaling everybody to be quiet; Konnor eased the door open just an inch and spotted a man in heavy armor crouched behind an overturned table next to a massive humanoid with bestial features. Caleb identified the nearly five cubit tall behemoth as Shalelu's bugbear nemesis, Bruthazmus.Hiding with the pair were four female goblins behind the rough barricade.

Konnor signaled to the party what he had seen as Caleb peeked through the door. Qakisst slapped Athos on the shoulder sending a surge of strength into him just before Konnor and Caleb whipped the door open and charged in. A glass vial sailed past Konnor to send fire rippling across Bruthazmus as the Sandpoint heroes turned the tables on Bruthazmus’ attempted ambush.

Not expecting the party to come out of the storeroom, the ambushers were quickly overwhelmed when they found their barricade to be in the wrong place. Athos quickly cut through two of the goblins while Sapphire and Caleb took the attack to Bruthazmus. Qakisst and Laranys pinned down the remaining two goblins freeing Konnor up to help Athos engage the armored man. Unable to use his favored bow, Bruthazmus pulled a wicked looking flail and attacked Caleb. “Hit him again, Tessa!” Caleb called out as he fought with the brutish bugbear.

“I’ll hit you, dummy! You’re not fireproof!” Tessa worked to get a clear shot of anybody in the tight room as Konnor worked his way between Bruthazmus and his human cohort.

“Hit him anyway! Do it now!” Caleb struggled to contain Bruthazmus as Sapphire and now Konnor pinned him in. Tessa shrugged and flipped an odd shaped bottle at the big brute that exploded in fire scorching the wall, Caleb, and setting Bruthazmus’ hair on fire.

The massive Bruthazmus bellowed curses in goblin and looked ready to take everybody with him given a chance. Caleb did not give him the chance. His kukri pinned the brute’s arm and stared into Bruthazmus’s milky white eyes saying, “This is for Shalelu,” as his scimitar came across his throat taking the bestial man’s head from his neck. As the last goblin died, the armored man threw down his sword and bellowed, “I yield! I yield!” Athos knocked him unconscious with a satisfied grin.

“Check the stairs, check those doors.” Caleb directed Konnor and the others to secure the room. Two other doors and a flight of stairs led out of the room.

As Caleb saw to the security of the room Athos bound their prisoner and pulled his helm off. Something looked familiar about him, but Athos was not quite sure what it was.

“Man, I need a drink.” Konnor’s offhand comment tripped a memory in Athos and images flooded his mind. Riddleport. ‘An easy job for gold coin that wouldn’t require him to rough anybody up.’ His brother’s words came back to him and he screamed, “YOU!” Athos lifted the now bound mercenary off the ground and slammed him to the wall, “WHERE IS HE YOU FILTHY SLAVER? WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY BROTHER?” The rest of the room froze in stunned silence as Athos repeatedly smashed the still unconscious man against the stone walls.

Time kicked back in; Caleb had one of Athos’s arms, Laranys had the other, and Sapphire had grabbed him around the waist. They had physically pulled him off the prisoner.

“ATHOS! ATHOS! What in the nine hells is wrong with you? Are you trying to bring the whole place down on us?” Qakisst was clearly furious with Athos.

“That man was one of those who kidnapped my brother to be sold into slavery! I will find out what he knows!”

Qakiist looked up at Athos with a wicked grin, “You cannot question him when he is dead. Watch the other entrance to the room while we question him. We will find out what he knows, Athos. Go! Now.” While he was much bigger than the almost childlike ifrit, Athos chose not to test his fiery temper any further and stomped off to keep a watch.

Qakisst quickly found out he was a hired mercenary named Orik Vancaskerkin that Nualia had found in Magnimar. He was only too willing to share information about Nualia and her allies in exchange for his life. He hadn't explored much of the rest of this level, because he found Nualia’s worship of Lamashtu to be unsettling and was convinced this job wasn't worth the platinum he was getting paid.

At Caleb’s prompting, Orik led them through the personal quarters at sword-point. Orik explained what these rooms were used for and who Nualia's remaining allies were: the now deceased Bruthazmus, Tsuto Kaijitsu who had escaped jail in Sandpoint, a dark skinned mage named Lyrie, and Nualia's "demon dogs" she had received after sacrificing her adopted father's corpse to her goddess.

“These days, Nualia spends most of her time in the lower levels searching for a ‘Malfeshnekor’, with Lyrie and Tsuto doing research on the antiquities found.” Orik was spilling his answers out as fast as they could question him.

“Who or what is Malfeshnekor?” Caleb asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s somehow the key to Nualia’s crazy plans.” Taking Orik on a guided tour of the enemies' rooms did not provide much in the way of new information, other than that Bruthazmus had apparently taken a great fondness to the wives of Chief Ripnugget and Lyrie was rejected by the Pathfinder society in suspicion of murdering her fellow applicants. “The only other area I have been is the prison where Nualia locked up the old man.”

“I think you would like to show us the prison cells, Orik. You might find a place to hide from Athos for a little while.” Qakisst jabbed his dagger into Orik’s back. “To be honest, I do not think I like you enough to bother pulling him off you a second time.” Qakisst winked at Athos as he prodded the bound mercenary.

The exploration of the dungeon cells brought an incredible surprise. “Sweet goddess, it’s Iannan! Konnor, get this door open, now!” Laranys had flung herself at the cell when she recognized her father. Laranys rushed in as soon as Konnor got it open and worked to revive her father. It was no easy task. Days of starvation and dehydration could not simply be knitted back together like wounds could be bound up by divine favors. Laranys was good at her calling though and soon enough her father’s eyes opened.

“By the blessings of the Dawnflower, I never expected to see you again, my child. What are you doing so far from Absalom?” The old man wept with joy.

“Looking for you, of course. But how did you end up here under a goblin fortress?” Laranys was wiping tears away from her own eyes.

He told a story of being brought to Magnimar by a letter from an old friend with claims of discovering a powerful Thassilonian artifact. When he reached Magnimar, he found his friend had disappeared mysteriously. Soon after, he met a woman who promised to help him find his missing friend. As there were more Thassilonian ruins in Sandpoint, they headed up the coast. Unfortunately, the woman he had met was Lyrie and she and Nualia attacked him while they traveled. The next thing he knew, he awoke in the dungeon. They never questioned him, simply beat him and left him to starve. Nualia said she had something special in mind for him when her preparations were complete. Fortunately, whatever she planned was not yet ready.

Iannan was too weak to accompany the party, but he did call upon his goddess to heal their wounds. “Father, you push yourself too far in your condition. You must rest!” Laranys fretted as the act seemed to exhaust him.

After making sure that Orik was securely bound and gagged in a locked cell, Qakisst turned back to the others. “What do we do now?”

“We find Nualia, Junior. That’s why we’re here.” Tessa drifted ahead of the party as she spoke.

“You can’t give this Nualia more time.” Sapphire caught everybody off balance as she spoke. “If we go back out, it is to take Iannan all the way back to Sandpoint. The only reason these bastards are still down here was because they did not know if it was safe to come out. If you give them two days, they’ll be gone for sure.”

“But father…” Laranys made to argue, but saw the resolve on the other’s faces.

“Let me escort your father and this slaver scum back to town. I will get him safely to the healers at the Cathedral and return to you all as soon as I am able.” Athos looked at Laranys. He was convinced she was going to agree with him.

“Why don’t we just lock him up here and put the old guy in one of the rooms?” Konnor shrugged, while Laranys glared at him. The group quickly decided that was the best idea.

While Athos worried his earlier outburst had hurt his new friends’ trust in him, he helped Laranys move Iannan into one of the bedrooms where he could rest comfortably. “The others are right. We must find Nualia and end the threat she poses to Sandpoint.” He said as they closed the door to leave Iannan to rest.

“Then we will have to explore the temple and try to find Nualia quickly. Let’s get this done.” Laranys moved with purpose as they headed back to the prison cells.

The prison cells served as a holding place for sacrifices in the dark temple, and had a passageway to the back of the altar. The party moved slowly into the massive chamber that made up the temple from the cellblock scanning the room. Suddenly, three of Nualia's ‘demon dogs’ flew down from the ceiling and unleashed terrifying howls. Qakisst, Konnor, and Tessa were overcome with panic and ran, while Sapphire strode forward to do battle undeterred. Their weapons did not appear to damage the other-worldly hounds as they would a normal creature. Worse, the creatures still held the canine instinct to unfoot an opponent. Sapphire, Caleb, and Athos were soon all fighting from the ground; unable to stand without getting knocked prone once more. Laranys sent forth healing waves that kept them in the fight. In time, those panicked overcame their fear and made their way back to the temple to help finish the battle. Finally, the last of the hounds fell and the party was able to catch their breath.

Sapphire and Laranys healed their wounds from the brutal battle with the hounds, while the rest searched the evil temple. Konnor found the remains of bones and ash on the altar, likely from Father Tobyn's body. Caleb and Qakisst looked shaken by the unholy desecration of a man they had known and respected. Sapphire defaced the symbols of Lamashtu, and Laranys consecrated the grounds in the name of Sarenrae in the hope that the dark forces that held sway here could be dispelled.

Finding no other way to the lower level, the party returned the barricaded door in the first room they had explored; the map room. The door took several attempts before Athos succeeded at bashing it open. At which point, Tsuto promptly kicked Athos in the face. He and Lyrie had been laying an ambush here. Tsuto stepped up to the door, blocking entry with his body. Athos could hear Lyrie mumbling arcane words in the background, but she stayed out of sight. While Athos struggled to dislodge Tsuto from the door a blast of wind erupted from Tessa driving Tsuto back, but he grabbed onto the doorframe and held his ground.

Caleb yelled, “Get down!” and sent an arrow past Athos. The black fletchings marked it as one of Bruthazmus’ elf-killing arrows, but again Tsuto held his grounds; now using Athos like a human shield.

“Nyanja za ya moto!” Qakisst released a scroll that crumbled to ash. The ash however floated across the room to erupt in a ball of fire right on top of the space Tsuto had stood in. The incredibly agile half-blood flipped back out of the way as the sphere rolled to the right. Konnor leapt into the room before Tsuto could block the doorway again.

Athos followed in Konnor’s footsteps, but Tsuto flipped back into the gap cutting off Athos and isolating Konnor from the rest of the party. Athos grinned. Tsuto had made a terrible mistake in letting the masked man behind him while trying to block the door.

“This is for Ameiko!” Konnor growled with emotions he rarely showed as one of his finely crafted wakizashi erupted from Tsuto’s chest to be followed seconds later when the other drew across the bastard Kaijitsu’s throat and removed his head completely.

“NNOOAAOOOOooo!” Fire erupted from the corner where Lyrie had been magically hidden.

“Back corner!” Athos yelled and Qakisst send the flaming sphere rolling on top of her just before it winked out. Only a couple more blows and the badly burned and angry wizard dropped into unconsciousness.

“Keep her alive if you can, Laranys.” Caleb pointed into the corner as Laranys and Qakisst stepped into the room behind Sapphire.

“I’m not sure I want to.” Fire licked in Laranys’ eyes. Everybody turned to the angry cleric in stunned silence. A flick of her holy symbol sent a brief burst of divine magics from Laranys to the wizard. “Fine, she’s stable. She won’t bleed out.” Sapphire gripped Laranys' shoulder and smiled.

“And that is why I am not a Dawnflower Dervish. Not everybody deserves redemption.” Sapphire moved to help Athos guard their new prisoner as Konnor searched the room.

Qakisst scanned Lyrie for anything magical and riffled through her journals and packs. Qakisst found the wizard’s tomb of spell research and passed it back to Tessa. “Can you make anything out of this stuff, Tessa? I can trigger the power bound up in these scrolls but cannot really make use of her book.”

“Sure. No doubt there’s something I can turn into a potion or two.” Tessa eagerly pocketed Lyrie’s spellbook as Qakisst riffled through the scrolls he found. He stuffed a hand full of other trinkets away, including a wand. “Magic missile, nice.”

“This is the last room and I still don’ see a way into the lower level.” Caleb seemed frustrated and Athos shared his feelings. They needed to find this Nualia and end her.

“Hey big guy, want to toss the trash in with dumb ass back in the prison block?” Tessa turned to Athos and jerked a thumb toward the unconscious wizard.

“Sure. I may be a few minutes talking to dumb ass.” Athos cracked his knuckles.

“Don’t take too long. I think I found the door.” Konnor tripped a hidden switch and one of the shelves on the wall opposite the entrance popped open like a well-oiled door.

Athos and Sapphire quickly deposited the unconscious Lyrie in the cell farthest from Orik, and Tsuto’s body in the cell next to him then rushed back join the others. When they returned they found Konnor looking down an intricately crafted tunnel descending further into what was clearly more than just a goblin fortress.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate dungeons?” Tessa did not sound nearly as cheery as they descended even lower into Thistletop.

The first room in the lower level had strange claw marks torn into the stone doors, walls, floors, and the statues in the alcoves. Whatever had made these marks had been large and fearsome indeed. Athos hoped that whatever made these marks had already left.

Caleb stopped them in the hallway in front of two massive statues. “Something’s not right here.” The floor looked freshly cleaned from the dust that covered everything else.

Konnor carefully studied the door, the floor, anything he could reach without entering the room. “There’s a trigger trap here, but I can’t see the trigger. I think it’s magical.”

“Let me see.” Qakisst slipped up to the front to focus his magics on the trap. “There is an aura here. It is not anything on the surface. It is inside the floor somehow. I can barely make it out.”

“There it is; a pressure plate with a magic trigger on the back side.” Konnor pointed up at the two statues. Each statue held a wicked looking sharp metal glave. “Bet that would be a close haircut.” With a little work Konnor was able to wedge the pressure plate so that it would not react, and the party advanced to see two doors at the end of the hallway.

“I think these writings are Thassilonian, but I can’t quite make out what they say.” Konnor was examining them as the group tried to decide which direction to explore first. Tessa suggested the party go left, so they opened that door first.

Nualia was waiting for them in what appeared to be some kind of study with books and scrolls on shelves lining the sides of the room. She had a grotesque demonic left arm and scarring on her exposed stomach similar to the women on the doors of the temple above. “I was wondering if you fools could even make it this far. Soon I will release Malfeshnekor and burn Sandpoint to the ground. Kneel before my Mother and I may just grant you a quick death.” Athos was struck by the fact that otherwise she was stunningly beautiful.

“Hello, Nualia, nice to see you again.” Qakisst charged into the room and jabbed at her. The spear hit, but appeared to do negligible damage.

“Iomedae grant me the strength to defeat this abomination. For victory, For the heart!” Sapphire charged the other aasimar.

“You stink of angelic corruption. Let my Mother cleanse you of it!” Nualia spat back as fire burned in her eyes. They began to trade heavy blows; Sapphire with her greatsword and Nualia wielding her bastard sword two-handed.

As Athos and Konnor moved quickly into the room; out of the dark corner to the left another demonic hound sprang from hiding and let forth its own terrifying howl. This creature was even larger than the others and it seemed to blur with the surrounding shadows as if a part of the darkness itself. Those nearest Sapphire felt extra courage to shrug off the effects of its howl, but Laranys was still in the hallway and was overcome by the creatures roar and ran.

Tessa hurled her explosives into the darkness to the left, temporarily revealing the shadow hound in all its terror. “That’s an ugly puppy.”

Caleb lashed out at the shadow beast as Konnor tumbled past Nualia to flank her while Sapphire struck the corrupt priestess with all her heart. Nualia laughed and invoked Lamashtu’s blessings sending waves of corrupting energy to strike the heroes. Tessa staggered as the demonic hound lashed out at her and Athos struggled to contain the beast as Caleb sought to strike it down.

Facing the second evil cleric this week, Athos was concerned that Laranys was not there to help this time. Nualia must have sensed that the tide of battle was turning against her as she tried to maneuver toward the door. A great blow from Sapphire felled the evil priestess before she could make good on her escape.

“A little help, please!” Athos and Caleb called out as they struggled to drive the shadow beast off Tessa.

Sapphire spun and sent her blade crashing down on the shadow beast. It yelped in pain and snarled. Caleb and Athos lashed out at the now surrounded beast as Konnor moved in to attack as well. Qakisst grabbed Tessa when the creature turned at Sapphire and yanked the tattooed Varisi clear. Surrounded, the otherworldly demonic beast fell quickly.

As Sapphire slumped to sit on the dead beast, Laranys returned with a sheepish look, “Did I miss the excitement?” Caleb and Sapphire chuckled.

Laranys checked Nualia and found she had died of her wounds. The threat she and her goblin army posed to Sandpoint was finally over.

"But for the grace of the Inheritor, go I." Sapphire brushed the silver hair out of Nualia's face that was so similar to her own.

Konnor searched the room quickly and found Nualia’s research notes and journal. “It looks like little miss goblin queen has been trying to map the place out, but can’t find something.” Konnor flipped through the journal pages quickly. “She was looking for this thing, Malfeshnekor through there.” He pointed across the hall to the other door.

Konnor checked the door for traps and found it clean. The party moved into the next chamber and found themselves in an L-shaped room. To the south were the only doors and they depicted skeletons holding a flaming skull. To the east the room narrowed into a column carved to resemble thousands of gold coins stacked floor to ceiling. There were no traps that Konnor could find on the column or doors, but Caleb found two small notches on the sides of the gold carved column. The openings looked just large enough that they would fit coins.

“Are you kidding me? Thassilon was a coin operated carnival show?” Tessa looked on in disbelief as Caleb and Qakisst tested it out by dropping a copper piece in each hole. Nothing happened. “Well at least they weren’t a cheap carnival show.” Caleb and Qakisst gave Tessa a dirty look as they tried a gold piece each. With a loud chunk sound the whole column began to sink into the floor, causing everybody but Tessa to jump back. “Let’s see what’s in the fun house, boys.”

On the other side of the now much larger room were three sets of doors. The north room consisted of a throne on a raised dais between two statues. A flickering apparition of a man sat in the throne speaking a strange language. "He's speaking Thassilonian." Konnor was concentrating trying to understand.

"What is he saying? Tessa ran her hand through the image as it continued speaking.

"It's repeating something. Um, ... 'is upon us, but I command you remain. Witness my power, how Alaznist’s petty wrath is but a flash compared to my strength. Take my final work to your graves, and let its memory be the last thing you...' and it starts over. No clue what it means."

“Who’s Alaznist?” Sapphire watched the illusion blink in and out of existence.

“Alaznist; isn't that the name Brodert called that woman's statue in the catacombs?” Athos asked.

"Yeah, he called her a Runelord, one of the ancient Thassilonian mages. And now this guy seems to be on all the statues we've seen down here." Caleb was staring at one of the statues next to the throne.

The room to the east was some kind of experimentation room with all manner of high quality surgical tools on a table. The skeleton of a horribly mutated man hinted at a gruesome purpose for the room. On one of the tables lay a strange seven-pointed star object with a handle.

“Hey, I’ve seen this star shaped icon all over this place.” Athos held up the star by its handle. “And didn’t Nualia’s amulet have the same design?”

“Yeah, I tucked it in with the other things to examine when we get back to some place safe.” Qakisst shuddered holding his arms tight as he looked about the room.

“Nothing else worth looking at in here.” Konnor bundled up the finely crafted surgical tools and tucked them into the collection of loot. “Next room?”

“Can you believe that Nualia didn’t know how to open a coin operated trick door?” Tessa drifted about the room from statue to statue, relief to relief.

On the south wall stood double doors with no handle or nob. There was no means of opening them; save a recession in the shape of the seven-pointed star. “Hey Athos, let me see that star shaped thing you found.” Sapphire motioned to Athos to come over to the door.

Athos handed her the strange star by its handle and she slid into the depression like a perfectly fit key. The grip on the back of the star turned with ease and locked to the door like a handle. The door opened with ease. Inside, no one could see anything immediately other than a small fire pit in the floor and some candles burning in the corners.

"Careful, I can sense something evil in this room." Sapphire was looking puzzled by the empty room. "Let me focus and see if I can pinpoint it." With that she took a step forward and disappeared from view, only to let out a cry of pain the next moment.

"Where did she go?" Qakisst yelled out as he rushed into the room and similarly vanished. Konnor made it into the room before Athos could react, disappearing as well.

Athos stepped into the room and came face-to-face with a terrifying combination of goblin and wolf that was the size of a horse and bit him viciously as soon as it appeared. Somehow it could be seen by those in the room, while being invisible to those outside.

“Get out! Get out now!” Sapphire quickly chose a tactical retreat due to the injuries it was inflicting on the party. She held the door while Konnor, Qakisst, and Athos escaped without the beast felling any one and re-sealed the room. As soon as the door latched a terrible voice screamed out, "RELEASE ME!"

"What was that monster?" Athos had never seen anything like it before.

"I think it may be a barghest." Qakisst said as he caught his breath. "It is a type of extra-planar creature believed to be related somehow to goblinoids."

I would wager it's safe to say we found the goblins' 'god' and the ‘Malfeshnekor’ Nualia was looking for. Let’s move on, show’s over folks." Tessa picked at her fingernail and Athos could not help but laugh.

"Let's check the other room before we head back." Sapphire winced as Laranys used the last of her healing magics to repair the gash in the warrior woman's leg from where the barghest had bitten her.

Back on the original side of the column, Konnor quickly checked the doors for traps before opening them. “Ready everybody?” The others brought their weapons into position as he popped the door open. Beyond the door shadows flitted about disputing the laws of light. When the door opened they moved as one at the doorway, ephemeral and translucent darkness. Konnor pulled the door shut. "Shadows that move on their own without any bodies; those are bad, right?"

"Right." Everyone responded at once.

“Let’s get Laranys’ father and go home.” Caleb backed away from the door.

“We still have to get that horse across the bridge.” Athos stowed his weapons as they started making for the exit.

“And we have to drag the wicked witch and her idiot friend back.” Konnor caught up to the group as they headed toward the upper chambers and Laranys’ father.

“Hey! Some of my best friends have been witches!” Tessa stuck her tongue out at Konnor.

"We should probably take Nualia and Tsuto's bodies back as well." Qakisst said somberly.

"We'd better get moving then. We have a lot to do and Shalelu will be waiting." Caleb was already halfway up the stairs.

Athos smiled as he thought to himself, ‘What will Sabyl think about these battles? Probably tell me I’m going about fighting all wrong. But at least it’s good company and a good debate.’

The Exchange

Some times the story just takes place outside the regular dungeon craw. Our player for Caleb really hates these slow game sessions normally; but he had so much fun finding out that Qakisst is dating a Pixie Girl.

Burnt Offerings: A night in the Dragon:

Shalelu drifted through the trees lining the roadway effortlessly ahead of the party. Caleb and Athos strolled along behind her keeping watch for trouble. Tessa still had spring in her step, and Qakisst could not figure out how that was even possible. Sapphire and Konnor marched along with no problems, while Qakisst silently slogged forward with his spear in hand as he had learned in his youth; expending minimal energy as he walked. Laranys seemed exhausted as she walked beside her father on horseback. The ordeal of invading Thistletop and rescuing her father wore on the young Dawnflower Priestess. Several of the party’s members had suggested that she ride one of the horses back as well, but she had refused. There was simply too much treasure to haul and the horses were carrying that plus Laranys’ father as well as the bodies of Tsuto Kaijitsu and Nualia Tobyn.

Then there was the damned cat. Screeching and yowling in a burlap sack that they had found. The arcane cat’s owner, one of their two prisoners, trudged along occasionally staggering as she was marched back to Sandpoint tied to a horse’s saddle horn. The implied threat being that if the young wizard Lyrie caused trouble or tried anything the horse would be sent galloping ahead while her arms were still tied to it by the long rope. Lyrie scowled but behaved well enough on the march. Her fellow prisoner, Orik marched along like a professional soldier but with his head hung low. The only thing missing was Gogmurt and his pet cougar. Shalelu had shot them when they had tried to escape.

Thistletop had seemed brutal. The fight with Nualia had been disturbing to say the least. The discoveries farther into the complex had been even more frightening. A barghest? Blessed Sarenrae; she had been trying to gain control of a barghest trapped under Thistletop. There was no telling how deranged the other-worldly demonic creature would be after being trapped in the Thassilonian complex for centuries. The party would have to go back and deal with the creature soon, but they were not prepared to deal with it yet. So they had made the decision to return home with their prisoners and resupply before continuing to explore Thistletop.

Even with all they had found under the goblin stronghold the long walk back from Thistletop seemed worse. Qakisst was coated in road dust kicked up by the horses and sweat from exertion, and was not feeling particularly good when he saw the first of many children leap up in the distance along the road and run off towards the gates of Sandpoint. This was just great, he bemoaned to himself. Half the town would be swarming the north end by the time they entered the gates. More hero worship which he could not stand; and right in front of the White Deer where he spent so much time growing up. He dearly hoped Korva, Tanjah, or any of the other Viskalai children would not be among the spectators.

When the gatehouse came into view he did not see any of his friends on duty. He hoped that meant that they were on duty someplace else. Just the idea of having his friends see half the town fawning over them when they came to town made Qakisst’s stomach turn. It would be worse if Korva or Laure were waiting; or both. That would be even more horrifying than the barghest. Fortunately for Qakisst it was not Laure or Korva waiting; it was Shayliss Vinder. She dashed forward as soon as the party had entered Temple Square, threw her arms around Konnor, and declared her undying love for him. Qakisst glanced around the crowd to make sure that he was not about to receive an equally embarrassing greeting. He recognized several people throughout the crowd, including a few casual friends, all of whom slapped him and the other Sandpoint Heroes on the back in congratulations.

As the party paused in Temple Square to unload some gear and help Laranys’ father down from his horse they heard the yell, “GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER YOU DAMNED DIRTY DARK ELF!” As Laranys and her father entered the temple Ol’ man Ven Vinder stormed out of the crowd and threw himself at Konnor in an attempt to violently separate the masked hero from his most exuberant young fan. Young was not an altogether inappropriate yet relative term as Shayliss was 19 years old and more than ready to have a husband; and even more determined to have a famous one. But as one of Ven Vinder’s daughters she was hopelessly sheltered by her overprotective father. Seeing the enraged father the crowd had opened up for him which allowed the rest of the party to move on to the town garrison to deliver their prisoners.

Qakisst spotted Tessa and Sapphire separate from the party to join the gawkers that were now clearly focused on Conner and Shayliss. The next thing he knew an unknown voice yelled from in the crowd, “Did he get her with child?” The commotion grew even more excited as several guardsmen rushed forward to break up the crowd and to try to separate the unrequited family feud. Qakisst, Caleb, and Athos kept moving even as Sheriff Hemlock passed them in an effort to control the commotion. The trio delivered their prisoners and passed by Caleb’s family house to stash their treasures before heading off to return the horses they had leased from Master Hosk at the Goblin Squash Stables.

It was then that Qakisst saw the yellow dress. A lighter crowd was walking along with the trio asking questions, and still congratulating the heroes on their return from Thistletop. One of them slid up next to Qakisst as they walked along and slipped her arm around his, “Hello sweetie.” Qakisst’s face flushed maroon.

“Um…” Qakisst blushed like a teenager caught sneaking in late at night.

“Hello Laure. This is, uh, unexpected.” Caleb looked sideways at Qakisst as he spoke to his friend’s unexpected companion. Laure nodded in return.

“Laure Merhaba. Um, can you not call me that?”

“Well, ‘Sweetie’ was it? Are you going to introduce me to your pretty young friend?” Athos grinned at Qakisst as he poked fun at him. “I saw you dancing with her last week and you rudely neglected to do so then.”

“Uh, Athos; this is Laure Vieskin. Laure this is my friend Athos.” Qakisst’s facial color continued to deepen as Laure greeted Athos. “Uh, I thought you would be working tonight.”

“I was. Kaye let me go for the night…” Caleb’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of the owner of the town brothel, “… when we heard that y’all had come back from Thistletop.” Laure smiled at all of them. “Nobody else was sure that you’d be coming back at all.”

“Your faith in us is stunning for a former acolyte, Laure.” Caleb turned off Main Street onto Water Street and the steadily growing group followed him. “I did not know you were working for Kaye.”

“I did say nobody ‘else’.” Laure and Qakisst smiled at each other as they ignored the reference to Laure’s boss.

“This does not mean anything.”

“I know. Buy me dinner, Sweetie.”

“Yes, buy us dinner ‘Sweetie’.” The crowd chuckled as Athos poked fun at Qakisst; now steadily turning a darker maroon in color.

Ignoring Athos and the crowd, “I’ll buy dinner if you please not call me that.” Qakisst took a deep breath trying to will his facial color to return to normal. “So why are you skipping work?”

“You promised to tell me all about Thistletop.”

“YES! Tell us about Thistletop!” The growing crowd intoned.

“Now?” Qakisst whispered to Laure as Caleb began to tell the crowd about Gogmurt the goblin druid.

“Dinner first.” Laure slipped from the crowd with Qakisst as the group followed Caleb, Athos, the story of Gogmurt, and their seven horses to Master Hosk’s Goblin Squash Stables. “Quite a crowd you attract, Swee…” A finger on her lips stopped her.

“Please. Do not call me that.” Qakisst led Laure into the Rusty Dragon and looked for an empty seat. There were several so he took a seat in the west room away from the hearth where the party normally sat. Once Qakisst and Laure entered the common room part of the crowd began to pile in.

“What can I get for you, Sweetie?” The young serving girl smiled at both of them as Qakisst and Laure ordered.

When the serving girl left Laure grinned at Qakisst, “She can call you ‘Sweetie’ and you do not complain. Why can’t I?”

Qakisst growled slightly, “I can just go home now if you like.” He slowly started to stand.

“Qakisst, please.” Laure grabbed his arm, “Really, please. I was scared. You have been gone nearly a week.” Qakisst eased back into the chair, “Okay, I get it. I know I embarrassed you. Are you really that embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“No.” Qakisst looked down, “I am not embarrassed to be seen with you; and I am not embarrassed to be seen with a pixie girl.” He raised his eyes up to see the doubt in hers, “I am embarrassed…” she smirked at his honest admission, “…because Caleb and Athos are going to give me crap just for having a girl…” and his almost child-like shyness, “…because I know Korva would disapprove and so will most of her family,…” but scowled at needing his friend’s approval, “…and Goddess forbid Tessa find out and start in on me. She makes me feel like a 12 year old sometimes.”

“They’ve seen you dance with me before.”

“They have seen me dance with everybody before.” Qakisst looked back across the common room toward the hearth. He was somewhat amazed that they were not being mobbed when he spotted Tessa, Konnor, Caleb, Athos, and Sapphire at their usual table. The crowd had swarmed the larger group now and the inn was filling up far more rapidly than normal. “I am surprised I do not have a reputation for sleeping with everybody.”

“I am not the only person that has noticed that you always slipped away alone after your last dance of the evening. Q, sweetie; you have a reputation for sleeping with nobody.” Laure smiled at him. “Well, you did. From the looks I got from Korva this week I don’t know if that’s still true.”

“I told her already.” Qakisst looked down.

“Really?” Qakisst could feel the glare from Laure as he looked down, “You had to rush home from Thistletop to tell your little buddy?”

“I told her before we left.” He looked up, “She does not like you and I did not want her to find out from wild rumors. I do not what her thinking that you are some kind of gold digger chasing me because I am suddenly famous or whatever I am.” Plates of food slid into place in front of the two. “I want her to be okay with you and me.”

“You and me? You keep saying, ‘This does not mean anything’ so is there a you and me?” The young pixie girl looked at Qakisst in a serious way that made him squirm. Behind him Tessa had slipped into a seat and was discussing various forms of tattoos without care for the young man that had become obsessed with her art. Her ear was firmly fixed upon Qakisst’s conversation as she prattled aimlessly.

Further behind Qakisst the Lady Ameiko stepped up to the table where the others sat and called a toast to the Sandpoint Heroes. Qakisst shook his head and lifted his mug half-heartedly, “The Sandpoint Heroes.”

“Oh Sweetie, why are you so hard on yourself. You are heroes.” Laure grimaced as she realized she’d use that word again. “Sorry.”

“I screwed up.”

“What does that mean, Q? You survived to return from…”

“I kept screwing up.” Qakisst interrupted Laure, “I keep trying to help, trying to do more, trying to… I do not know. I…”

“You need to stop; stop beating yourself up.” Laure grabbed his hand. “Tell me everything. It’s okay.”

Qakisst told her about the necromancer, and how he screwed up and nearly got himself killed. How he could not stop him from escaping and had to chase Tessa down to keep her from getting killed. How he crawled through the brambles and was drug down by the goblin dog-like beasts and had to be rescued before he could help. How the goblin king, Ripnugget’s entourage had beaten him down until Laranys had brought him back in time to help keep the goblin sorcerer from escaping. How he had to learn to fight so he could stop being the weak link among his friends.

“Oh Q, don’t you see? You have to think like a team; like a group. You try to do it all by yourself and you get in over your head. But your friends are always there for you; just like in school.”

‘Yeah, I got kicked and knocked down in school too and my friends had to come rescue me. I cannot do this. I am not a hero.” Qakisst sipped at his drink.

“But you do do it.”

“No, I…”

“YES, damn it!” Laure’s angry shout shook him and he looked up stunned. The crown near him glanced his direction briefly before turning back to their drinks. “You always do it. You make people like you and work with you. You don’t even know you do it.” Qakisst looked at Laure in confusion. “You remember being beat up in school, but you forget that you never backed down and you always had friends. No, no, no, don’t you look at me like that. You were always there for them and you were always there for anybody that needed you. That is what makes somebody a hero. This is why I always liked you even when I was too shy to say anything in school.”

“Not always.”

“Qwakiss!”

“I was not there for Nualia.”

“Q; Sweetie whatever happened to Nualia was not your fault. You’re only human.”

“I am not human.” The pained whisper barely registered above the crowd, “No, Laure. I am not. Not to them.” He gestured around himself.

“You are very human to me.”

“I know; but I’m not human.” Qakisst’s finger tapped the right horn extending forward and up eight inches from his brow.

“Oh yes you are. Those things do not define you and Nualia was not your fault. I don’ know what made her do all this crazy stuff, but you were just a kid and Nualia was grown up years ago.”

“Maybe I am just a kid,…” Qakisst smiled and looked down, “but do you have any idea how old I am?”

“What?” Confusion painted Laure’s face.

“How old I am; do you have any idea?”

“Well, yeah. I know you look young, but you are older than I am. Maybe 25 or 30. I know you age a little slower than somebody that is not touched by the planes. I…” His finger touched her lip once more.

“I will be 60 years young just after midnight on the first of Pharast.” Qakisst‘s face looked down towards he and Laure’s hands but his eyes looked up at hers. “I will still be a young man when you have passed on to be with your ancestors. I may even be a young man when my children have passed on; or they may be otherworldly freaks like me who get beat up in school. I do not know.”

Laure looked at him for a long moment before she spoke, “Really, 60? And you’re still so cute.”

Qakisst ignored her joke, “You see why I cannot be with…” This time her finger touched his lips.

“This means that I could have the hottest young stud as my husband on my deathbed. That is awesome!” The stunned look on Qakisst’s face as he looked up made her laugh. “Q, I know you are going to outlive me by many years. I apprenticed for a few years at temple and they taught us about the planes-touched. You do not get to use that as an excuse to run away from me. Now, you know what I do; and you know that I am not going to stop. So be honest with me, Q. Be honest about it; that is really why you do not want me cozying up to you. I’m just what your friend Korva called me. I’m a…” Laure whispered the word whore then continued, “… and you just needed me one time when you were hurting. I’m okay with that. Just tell me the truth. Are you just using me or do I have any chance with you at all.”

“Please do not ever use that word.”

“Don’t change the subject, Q!”

“No. I know you are a working girl. But I do not want you to use that word.”

“You used it.”

“Who told you that?” Qakisst seemed actually angry at the accusation.

“I had already heard about your conversation with Korva.”

“Wh… then why did you act all mad when I…”

“Answer my question. You’re still pushing me away because of it; aren’t you?”

“I am not.”

“Quakiss answer the que…”

“I do not know why.” Laure’s frown showed her annoyance. “I cannot even sort out my own infatuations and feelings. I want you to… to be here. But when I…”

“Goddess damn it, Q. Just tell me what it is you want from me.” In the background the Lady Ameiko called out a change in the music and took the stage to begin playing a new song. Qakisst glanced toward the stage and his face flushed. “Oh you have got to be kidding me. Are you serious? That’s who I am competing with!”

Qakisst gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, “You are not competing with anybody. I want you here damn it. I came to you when I needed somebody.”

“Because you were too chicken-shit to go after her.” Laure kept her voice quiet, but growled at Qakisst in real anger. “I’m just a convenient piece of ass!” Her playful game of figuring out Qakisst came crashing to an end.

“Damn it, you are a very inconvenient piece of… gah! I like you okay! I really do.” Qakisst felt like a caged animal. He did not know how he felt, just that he really felt it a lot. Passion, desire, and rage had made up most of his life and he could not handle the crash of emotions. “I am out on a limb here!”

“Puhlease!”

“Okay! Because nobody just likes me. You like the hero!” Qakisst looked angrily into Laure’s eyes. “Korva likes the spirit touched boy, Savah likes the 40 years of forge training, and the Varisi like the all too obvious stalking horse, but nobody likes Qakisst! Nobody even knows who he is; not even me!”

“Now just a…”

“No! You wanted to know, so listen.” Qakisst’s voice seemed flat despite the flaring emotion in his brass colored eyes, “Everybody sees these great big things sticking out of my head…” Qakisst grabbed both of his horns and shook himself, “…and makes wild presumptions about what I am. Even the people that supposedly know me cannot see past them; but nobody seems to know who I am. I do not even know.” Qakisst’s hands dropped from his horns to Laure’s hands on the table, “You want honesty, give me honesty. You keep asking me if you have a chance, but I am just a thrill ride to you. An adventure for you to experience and you have been yanking my chain about all evening for the fun of it.”

Anger flared then faded in Laure’s eyes. Qakisst’s barb had struck too close to the truth. “I,…” she looked away for a second, “damn it.” The two of them sat for several seconds; long enough for even Tessa to grow uncomfortable quietly listening.

“Am I wrong, Laure?” Laure would not look at him.

“You’re wrong.” Qakisst turned pale at the thought that he had just ruined everything, “You were not wrong before though.” She looked down at their cold dinners still on the table, “I think I want to find out what is behind those horns now, though.”

They sat for a moment until Qakisst’s stomach loudly reminded them that there was food sitting right in front of them. “Wow. Didn’t you eat anything while invading Thistletop?” They both laugh and he grabbed her plate before Laure could put her knife and fork to use, “Hey!”

“You want a cold plate or a warm one?” Qakisst set the metal plate to the palm of his hand and called forth the fire in his heart, but slowly. In seconds his hand heated the plate and the plate heated the food. “Be careful, this is really hot now.” He shrugged as he set her plate back in front of her, “It would be rude to make you eat cold food.”

“Wow.” Laure carefully turned the plate with her fork, “What else can you do with that trick.”

“Remember the kettle of hot water I left for you a week ago?” Qakisst ate his food cold without thought.

“That was very sweet of you.” The couple slowly ate as they chatted, despite the loud inn surrounding them. “Did you ever do that for anybody else? Cause that’s a really nice trick.”

Qakisst rolled his eyes at the obvious probe into his experience, “No. I am still figuring out what all I can do with that trick; and there has not been anybody there in the morning to do it for until you.”

“Wait; nobody? You want me to believe that you and Korva never?”

“No. We never…” Qakisst looked out the window, “Just you.”

“Wow. I’m honored. You didn’t pick me last week just for my experience did you?” The bare honesty of the conversation seemed brutal now, but they were no longer fighting.

“I knew you wanted me. And I knew that I was not going to ruin any friendships with you.”

“I don’ know. Korva really was glaring at me at market when she saw me yesterday.”

“Korva is just overly protective. I will deal with that somehow.”

“And Lady Kaijitsu? Are you going to deal with that, Q; or just pine away at a distance forever? I don’ want to be the lady you settled for. No girl does.”

“Lady Ameiko would be happy to trade stories with a Sandpoint Hero, but Lady Kaijitsu I do not think would even talk to not so plain ol’ Qakisst.”

“You might be surprised.” Laure raised an eyebrow at Qakisst as she ate.

“Well… rumor has it that this Q guy is dating a pixie girl. A high born lady like Lady Kaijitsu probably will not give him the time of day now.”

“Again, you just might be surprised. And considering what I do I won’t object if you try to find out; just as long as you don’t shut me out.” Qakisst looked slightly stunned at Laure, “I’m sorry I was playing with your head earlier. I think I have a chance with you if you’re really going to let me try. Do I get a chance, Q?”

“Mind if I join you?” Caleb interrupted the pair when he appeared beside the table dragging up a chair. “You three looked lonely over here.”

“Three?” Qakisst turned around confused and found himself staring at a smiling Tessa, “GAH!!! Tessa! You… What?” He turned back to Laure.

“Sorry but she’s been there the whole time, Sweetie.” Qakisst snapped around to look at Laure disapprovingly as she giggled, “I get to call you that if you get to pine over…”

“Ah, ah!” Qakisst held up a finger in terror as he turned back to Laure.

“You’re pining! Cousin Kisst, who are you pining over?” Caleb grinned as he pulled the table away from the wall to make more room for the others then slid into his chair.

“Your sister is single, right Caleb?” Lady Ameiko appeared out of the crowd and draped an arm over Caleb’s shoulder unexpectedly while winking at both Qakisst and Laure. “It is such a good thing that Laure has him all tied up or he’d be your brother-in-law by now and not your cousin.” Caleb blanched as the master bard pulled him tight and Qakisst turned maroon while Tessa and Laure laughed uncontrollably.

“Sounds like the good jokes are all over here.” Athos pulled a chair over and before he knew what was happening Qakisst found himself surrounded once more by Sandpoint’s Heroes.

“You’re not hogging all the good drinks are you?” even behind the mask Konnor was having another ale.

“Just a little fun at Caleb’s all too nosy expense. You’re a good man m’Lord Deverin.” Lady Ameiko actually tweaked Caleb’s nose before lifting a mug. “To Sandpoint’s Heroes!” She toasted the seven people around the table more sedately than before and nudged Qakisst to lift his own. “You will always have my gratitude my friends.” Though quietly proffered, the tribute spread around the room once more. Qakisst noted that even those few he did not get along with in the extended crowd joined in the toast.

By this point the Dragon was packed wall to wall, and the crowd was even spilling into the cool evening air around Market Street. Qakisst endured a fair amount of good natured fun at his expense, but his new friends seemed happy for him. As the evening wore on Bethana slipped through the crowd to give Sapphire a room key which sparked a thought in Qakisst and he quickly whispered a message spell to get Bethana’s attention, “Bethana? Bethana, it is Qakisst. Look at me.” Bethana jumped a little and scanned the group until she found him. She gave him a slightly funny look when she found him, but eased up to his side of the table. “Key?” She looked at him in mock confusion, “Can I get a room key tonight, Bethana?”

“A key? Why would you need a key, Mr. Vishtani?” The sly halfling woman gave a friendly scowl at him.

“A room with a bath, please. I should not think to inflict myself on anybody smelling like the road and 40 goblins.” Qakisst whispered back. He realized his mistake as soon as he hear the buzz about him. As Bethana smiled a knowing smile and turned he added, “Athos is a bit careless about where he sends the blood flying.”

Qakisst need not have worried about undue reputation. Word had already leaked from the Goblin Squash stables that with Shalelu’s help the party had slaughtered over 50 goblins and killed the infamous bugbear, Bruthazmus. Caleb was once more telling the story of the necromancer, with a bit of a grimace on his face, to yet another crowd of well-wishers while Athos filled in as he went. After a moment Qakisst realized that Tessa was punctuating the story with little bangs of chemical smoke and he smiled.

Hearing Caleb and Athos tell the story from their perspective made him feel better about it all. Even the big Shoanti admitted to worry during each encounter. When Bethana slipped a key into his hand he smiled at her and reached across the table and tapped Laure’s hand. Laure had been enjoying the story from another person’s view but glanced at Qakisst just the same. He smiled at her and nodded towards the stairs at the back of the common; she noticed a wet spot on his left cheek below his eye.

With some effort the two of them managed to extradite themselves from the crowd and moved past the bar. The long metal boar spear helped encourage people to make space even though it was carefully pointed up and out of harm’s way. “Q, are you sure? You are looking a little stressed. I kind of get why all this bothers you now.” Laure rubbed the wet spot from under his eye. “I am used to having people pay attention to me, but this mob is frightening.” With some confusion Qakisst touched his cheek and looked at his fingers.

“No. I am never sure of anything anymore. Except that I need a bath and I want you to help me reach that spot in the middle of my back that always itches.” The two smiled at each other.

“I promise not to tell Korva that I heard that if you promise never to talk like that in public again.” Laure uncharacteristically blushed as Qakisst dropped his head into his hand.

“Hi, Pavo.” Qakisst mumbled into his palm.

“Pavo Korbit, you are an evil man.” Laure turned back to the end of the bar near the stairs where Pavo sat, still in his guard’s tabard, sipping a beer.

“Lady Laure, you are as lovely as ever.” Pavo nodded to Laure. “Korva asked me to check up on him since that mob outside the Deer made it impossible for her, or any of the younger Viskalai to slip out and check up on him when they hit town.” Pavo looked around Laure at Qakisst, “You are coming to brunch tomorrow, right?”

“Brunch?” “Yes!” Laure looked at Qakisst puzzled as they both spoke.

“I will be there. Lady Quinta will have my head if I am not.” Laure looked down her nose at Qakisst as he spoke.

“Please don’ bust his chops too harshly, Laure. Like it or not, he is family to Lady Quinta.” Pavo raised his mug to both of them, “And to Korva and Vach as well. But just so you know, even if Korva is having a hard time learning to cope with her ‘big brother’ having a real life; I approve.”

“Oh?” Laure looked sideways at Pavo.

“He would have looked silly in monk robes with those horns.” Laure snorted loudly at the thought while clinging to Qakisst.

“I am going to go drown myself now. Come on Laure, you can hold my head under for me.”

“Say hi to the sheriff for me, Pavo.”

“I will let your boss do that for me. She is likely to see him before I do.”

“Good night Pavo.” Qakisst felt the heat in his face as the two climbed the stairs. From across the room he heard at least one catcall that he was sure was being directed at the two of them. Looking out over the crowd he could not believe the mob crammed into the Dragon. There were a hand full of young ladies that seemed to stare disapprovingly, and more than a few men looking at them knowingly, but most of the crowd could not have cared less about the young couple on the stairs. They were caught up in the story of King Ripnugget.

The two of them entered the room Qakisst had been given the key for; and he found a slowly cooling tub of water big enough for one large person or both he and Laure. “Very nice, Q. Did you do this for me?”

“I did have you in mind when I asked Bethana for a key, but to be honest I feel gross; and do not try to tell me that I do not smell bad. I can tell you have been wrinkling your nose all evening at all of our scents.” Qakisst piled his gear in the corner, standing the boar spear so that it would not fall. “No, I asked for this room for me. But I am truly hoping that you will stay and enjoy it with me.”

“Are you sure you weren’t hoping somebody else would share it with you?” Her expression was playful, but Qakisst could see the self-doubt in Laure’s eyes.

“No. Besides, she owns the inn. I imagine that the tub that would be in her room is far bigger; and if she wants it she has an entire manor house just south of the bay with house servants and all to see to any whims if she so chose.” Qakisst stepped up to Laure, with her arms folded under her breast upon hearing that description. “And she had her chance if she had wanted it. But she wasn’t brave enough, crazy enough, or interested enough to sneak into my room one night.” Qakisst looked up the extra inch into Laure’s eyes, “Are you in here with me, or out there with both of our doubts?”

“Qwakiss, we should talk.” He giggled at her attempt to pronounce his name, “Hey, don’ laugh…” A finger cut off her protest as he moved them both next to the half full tub of cooling water.

“So that is why you never use my proper name. You cannot pronounce it.” He smiled and stepped closer so that he could brush his fingers through the water in the tub and heat it like he did her dinner.

“Can we be serious?”

“I doubt it. I… uh… I am far too scared right now to be serious.” Qakisst kicked off the much hated boots he only wore when he had to and threw off his vest to cover a moment of silence, “I want to give you that chance; but I do not know how. I have never courted anybody and who we are makes this so very complicated.”

“Shut up and get in the water before it gets cold.” Laure’s dress dropped to the floor with her shoes, along with her simple undergarments.
--
The lamps in the room burned low. Qakisst and Laure could still here the faint noise of the common room someplace below. A considerable amount of time had gone into scrubbing Thistletop from Qakisst before the two of them had given up the tub for the bed. Considerably more time had been spent exploring each other before Qakisst had said, “Enough. I am okay with you just being here. There is more to life than sex.”

“Yes, there is good sex; which is why I am here.” The young woman snuggled deeper into Qakisst’s arms, “Do you still expect me to believe you have never done this before?”

“I have never been with anybody before you.”

“Okay. You are not my most knowledgeable partner…” Qakisst placed a hand lightly over Laure’s face as they lay there.

“No. Do not tell me. I really do not want to hear about what you do at work.”

Laure pulled his hand from her face, “Bastard.” She poked at him lightly, “I was not going to tell you anything like that. But you do seem to know an awful lot more than the average newbie.” She turned to face him in the bed, “Are you sure you did not play healer once or twice growing up?” Qakisst turned away and slumped down in the bed, “Q? Sweetie, your moods are gonna…”

“Slaves see a lot of things that they do not want to, and cannot ever forget.” Qakisst ran his hands into his short Mwangi hair at the back of his head. “Look here.”

“Q?” A look of confusion covered Laure’s face as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him tight.

“Thank you for not asking about the scars on my back. My Mother’s master was not a terribly kind man.” Qakisst carefully worked his fingers into tight wiry black hair on the back of his head to part it. “Look closely.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Laure was unsure what it was that Qakisst wanted her to see. His skin was so dark in the dim light that it barely showed.

“This is the reason why I do not object to what you chose to do. You get to choose. As long as you are happy, I have no right to take your life from you or judge you for it.” Laure remained quiet and held the elementally warm body of her partner as he pulled his tightly curled Mwangi hair enough that she could finally see the black tattoo on the back of his head, “And it is why I know some things that men can do that maybe somebody like me should not yet know.” Laure squeezed him tightly, “No, things like that were not done to me. My f.. f… master was not a nice man, but even he had some moral limits. Slaves were simply required to stay there, and to pay attention so that they could respond to his demands. You got whipped if you were not paying attention.”

“But you’re Varisian. Varisi don’ have slaves.”

“I am not Varisi-born. Liandra was my heart-Mother.” He wrapped his arms around hers where she held him, “She found me living on the streets of Korvosa 15 years ago. She had a thing for adopting lost boys in trouble. Since you were an acolyte you probably even met my adopted brother, Caster Benjamin, when he has come to visit. He was also one of Liandra’s heart-sons.” Laure gasped and began to giggle. “What?” Qakisst seemed disturbed that she would laugh as he was telling her things he had shared with nobody.

“I think I had a crush on your brother.” Qakisst turned his head as far as he could trying to look at her behind him, “No, no, no. He put me in my place. Very politely too. He said no to me even when I kept following him around like a lost puppy.” Laure wrinkled her nose, “Kind of like how you seem to be pining for a certain Tian bard who so politely covered for you this evening.”

“I am not pining.” Qakisst felt himself flush, “She’s just very intimidating. Uh, you did not try to…” Qakisst turned carefully so as not to dislodge Laure’s arms.

“Oh goddess no! No, I did not try to sneak into his room or anything crazy. You are the only person I ever tried that with and it almost cost me this.” Her hands darted under the covers as the lanterns burned out.

The Exchange

I do my best to give the GM endless fodder to mess with not just me; but the entire party. I don't think I even put this much effort into creating NPCs when I GM.

Burnt offerings: Korva's opinion:

The sun called to him and he wanted so badly to tell it where to go. Laure tried sleepily to hold him to the bed which made it so much easier to deny the sun, but it called to him insistently and he could not deny it. He slipped from the bed and his dreams, then used the little cantrips to eliminate the outward evidence of the last night from both of them carefully so as not to disturb her sleep. He pulled her things from the floor where they had lay in a pool of splashed water and frowned at himself. Cleaning up took a little longer than he had planned as he had to use his magics to make sure that her things were presentable; then he stripped the evil of Thistletop from his own garments before he dared pull them on.

As he prepared to leave he stopped, turned back to the bed and knelt beside it to whisper, “I am going to sunrise service. Would you like to go with me?” She hit him with a pillow sleepily and mumbled something rude about morning people. Taking the hint, Qakisst quickly made his way back to his house and hurriedly changed into presentable wear for church and rushed up the hill having deposited all of his gear on the floor at the foot of his bed.

Service had already started when he crept quietly into the open air court of the Sun Goddess. He carefully slid into place next to Laranys mumbling, “Your father?”

Laranys glared at him with fake annoyance whispering, “Better.”

“Breakfast after service.” Qakisst’s soft whisper was not nearly as soft as he thought and the presiding cleric gave him a slight scowl while continuing the service that punctuated the light elbow Laranys gave him. Qakisst quietly held his tongue through the remainder of service.

When service ended at last Laranys turned to head back to the Cathedral where her father was resting after his ordeal. Qakisst touched her arm lightly, “I am sorry. I just did not want you to leave service before I could ask you to come to breakfast.”

“My father needs me right no…”

Qakisst cut her off, “He is in temple with dozens of healers and sleeping if he did not come to sunrise service.”

“Qakisst…”

“Laranys, I know this is goodbye.” Laranys fidgeted at the statement.

“The others?”

“Probably still asleep. It is barely eight bells on a Sunday. I have no doubt that they will come to say their goodbyes later.” Qakisst walked slowly with Laranys toward the temple housing complex, “If your father is awake I would love him to join us. If he is not, he will be well and rested when you return.”

“I have to check on him first.”

“That would be why we are walking this way.” Qakisst smiled and opened the door for his friend.

“Uh, thank you.” Qakisst followed Laranys into the complex to check on her father. They found him resting peacefully with a tray of food partially eaten beside his bed. Laranys went to enter but Qakisst tugged at her sleeve.

Quietly, “You must see to your own needs as well, or you will not be able to care for his. Breakfast at the Deer. It is much closer than the Dragon and I will cover any costs. Please.” The child-like expression finally cracked her resolve and Qakisst led the young Dawnflower Cleric out the Cathedral on his arm. As they departed he heard his name called.

“Qakisst!” He turned to see Sister Giulia wave to him, “You be good, young man. I am watching!” before returning to her morning duties.

“Have you been causing trouble, Qakisst? Should I be wary of you this morning?” Laranys looked slyly at her companion.

“I am not certain.” Qakisst looked about himself in confusion, “I cannot think of anything I have done since yesterday to attract Sister Giulia’s stern attention.” The two chatted amicably as they strolled the half block to the White Deer Inn.

Qakisst hesitated as he stepped up to the elaborate front doors of Sandpoint’s finest inn. “What is wrong, Qakisst? Did you figure out why Sister Giulia would be watching you?” Laranys was having fun poking at her friend as he stood there.

“No. It is just that…” he looked up, “I am not used to walking in to the Deer this way. I usually sneak in through the kitchen.”

“Through the…”Her reply was interrupted by massive bear sized hands that gripped both their shoulders and ushered them in the doors.

“Lady Laranys! Not who I expected to find Kisst with this morning.” Vachedi Viskalai swept the two across the common to the state room for family breakfast, “I am very pleased to hear that you located your father, m’Lady.”

The slightly confused look on Laranys’ face brought a smile to Vach’s as they entered the state room. “Most times the night watch is boring, but there were so many things to talk about that this watch was the shortest I have ever worked. Please to be joining us all.”

Vach released the two in front of seats and stepped up to his mother to greet her with a hug before finding his own. “Good morning Mamma!” Lady Quinta shooed her eldest boy and stepped up to greet Qakisst and his guest.

“Dawnflower Laranys, it is very good to see you this morning.” Lady Quinta smiled broadly after bidding her son to behave himself, “Can we expect more such visits, my dear? Qakisst is certainly welcome to bring company.”

“Um, thank you. Lady…” a faint whisper of magical wind brushed her host’s name across Laranys’ ear, “…Quinta. I do not, um, I do not know. I…”

“Lady Quinta, I asked Laranys to breakfast as a way of saying goodbye.” Lady Quinta’s startled look made Qakisst smile, “The Dawnflower came here searching for her father, and we found him. He is safely recovering at the Cathedral this morning.” A small drop of moisture glistened on his left cheek.

“Oh my. Oh I must ap…”

“Please m’Lady. My Father is a pious man and I am grateful to have him back. And I am grateful that Qakisst thought to bring me to breakfast this morning. He has been a dear friend and I understand that in part I have you to thank for that. I must thank you for letting us steal him away for a time while we searched.”

“You are most welcome.” Lady Quinta gestured to the table, “Do be seated. My husband would say that breakfast will not wait for hungry stomachs.”

Qakisst pulled out a chair for Laranys and before he could sit next to her a young boy plopped into the seat. “Your hair is like gold. Did Kisst get it from the sun for you?”

“Istakkos! Let Qakisst have his seat.” Korva shoed her little brother away.

“Sorry about that. There is something about my brothers and manners.”

“Whatever it is, it escapes them.” Qakisst smiled and Korva chuckled but Laranys looked at them as if lost. “I guess that joke works better in Varisi.” He pulled the chair out on the other side of himself for Korva and sat himself between them. Korva was polite, but cool through breakfast.

Breakfast was longer than usual as both Laranys and Qakisst were constantly prompted to tell the Viskalai family about Thistletop, though Lady Quinta seemed somewhat reluctant to let them expound too much in front of the younger children. More than once Vach had to be shushed from telling what the rumor mill was saying about the heroes. When the meal finally came to an end and the smaller children were shooed out the door to terrorize the streets of Sandpoint Laranys turned to Qakisst and kissed him on the cheek, “It has been a pleasure to know you, Qakisst. You have opened my eyes and saved me from unspeakable horrors.”

“He has?” Korva looked both curiously and with a touch of pride at her friend; despite the aura of anger that clung to her.

“Oh! Speaking of unspeakable horrors; Lord Foxglove forgot to ask about you at the Dragon last night. It seems that Sapphire is a little more appreciative of his charms; though not so much she would let him escort her to her room.” Laranys burst into laughter at the idea of Foxglove chasing the deadly paladin about Sandpoint.

Qakisst escorted Laranys to the door of the inn, followed by Korva, “Qakisst, when you have a moment?”

“Korva, if you want to talk you will have to follow along.” Qakisst waved at Korva to follow.

“I have things to do in the kitchen.” Korva stomped a foot as Qakisst escorted Laranys out the door.

“Korva,” Qakisst stopped in the door for only a moment, “Your father owns the inn. Beg 10 minutes from your Mom and come on. It would be inexcusably rude for…”

“I know my way back, Qakisst.” Laranys stepped down from the entry porch of the Deer smiling back at the two of them. “I do not need an escort.” Qakisst jerked his head to the right out the door and gestured with his hands. Korva’s hands and neck argued back accompanied by her feet. Qakisst cupped his ear and waved to the somewhat crowded inn then stepped out the door and rushed to catch Laranys. “Really Qakisst, I think your girl wanted some of your time. You should give it to her.”

Laranys frowned at Qakisst as he matched stride with her, “I did spend time with my girl last night. I think that is what Korva wants to yell at me about.”

“Oh! So you and Korva…”

“I thought I introduced Korva’s guy, Pavo already.” Qakisst looked somewhat perplexed, “No, Korva is my best friend not my girlfriend.”

“My bull headed friend!” Korva panted catching up to the pair as they made it to the Cathedral steps. “M’Lady Laranys…” ahhh, “…it has been a pleasure to see you again. My family wishes you and your father our best.” Laranys smiled at them both.

“I think I can leave you to take care of Qakisst while I see to my father. Good bye my friend.” Before she could leave, Qakisst gripped her hand and raised it to just brush his lips as he bowed to the Dawnflower priestess.

“I will always have a dance for you my friend.” Laranys blushed slightly before withdrawing up the steps with a faint smile. “Goodbye.”

Korva waited patiently for Laranys to enter the temple before grabbing Qakisst by the ear and pulling, “Can I talk to you now!” Qakisst refused to budge and grimaced in pain as she pulled.

“Let go or I will burn your hair off.” Qakisst hissed in Varisi as he struggled to resist the matronly grip on his ear. Korva relented. “Ow.”

Matching tongues with him, “You were with her last night!” Korva glared at him as Qakisst started walking down the hill towards his house.

“Does Pavo tell you everything!” Korva dogged his heals growling as he spoke.

“He refused to discuss it with me, but I am not stupid.” Qakisst bit his tongue to stop himself from replying as Korva kept pace with him. “You didn’t even stop at the Deer and you walked right past us.”

“You were not in the crowd.” Qakisst stopped and looked at his sandaled feet. “I did look.”

“You looked?” Korva’s glair grew more intense.

He turned up River Street toward his small cottage, “We had prisoners! Damn it Korva, be fair! You know where I can be found. You could have come to the Dragon and found me. You…”

“YOU WERE WITH THAT WHORE!” Qakisst’s blood turned to ice and his face turned ashen as she yelled it.

“Thank you for telling all of Sandpoint your opinion, Korva! Say it louder! Somebody in Magnimar DID NOT HEAR YOooawwh shit!” As Qakisst turned back to confront Korva he saw Laure standing down the road in her yellow dress. He had brightened the colors and carefully cleaned it with his magics that morning and she had come to say thank you when she had heard the argument. Everybody had heard the argument. Qakisst pushed past Korva as she fumed at him.

“You are so much better that… hey! I am talk... in… g…” Korva turned to continue her angry tirade just in time to see the yellow dress turning back down River Street. “Oh Goddess, I... I’m sorry.” The whispered voice choked in her throat.

“Damn it Korva, why can you not just be happy that I have somebody that wants to make me happy?” Qakisst began to sprint for Crab Street yelling behind him, “Go home, Korva!” He had to cut across the alley between Bishop and Prickleback to catch Laure and even then only managed it by sending snapdragons ahead of her to burst in the street. When he caught her she did not want to face him. He slipped in front of her and raised her chin.

“You… let… her…” The effort to hold in sobs made it impossible for her to speak.

“Do not do that to yourself.” Qakisst wrapped his arms around Laure and pulled her tight.

“You… let…” Anger slowly crept into her voice as she tried to pull away.

“I cannot slap the shit out of her in the middle of the street.”

“I can.” Qakisst gripped the angry Laure to stop her from heading back up the hill.

“Hey! She is the niece of your boss’s boyfriend.” Laure choked a laugh through her tears. “That makes her off limits for any ass kickings from you.” Laure scowled at him, “I will just make sure to drag her out to the smoking ruins of Thistletop for our next argument.” Laure’s tears slowed to a stop as she continued scowling, “Riddleport does not know her opinion yet and we should give them a fair chance to hear.”

“You… you… you’re a… a rat-bastard!” Laughter broke up the tears.
--
By 10 bells Qakisst had managed to enrage his best friend, nearly loose his girl, and make sure that all of Sandpoint knew that Korva Viskalai was royally pissed at somebody for their taste in company. And he was pretty sure that this was the same reason that Sister Giulai was looking at him funny that morning. He vaguely remembered that the sister and Laure had been close friends for a while. After he delivered a somewhat cheerier Laure to the front door of the Kitten to let Kaye help her settle herself he retired to the only place he felt safe; Savah’s Armory. Here life was simple and stable. It made sense. Hammer, anvil, steel.

Only he had set for himself a nearly impossible task. He had made one all metal spear already, but the balance just was not quite right. So he was back to his workbench where he found that Savah had framed and hung his certification above the bench with a note. “Don’t get carried away, boy. It is a bench not the whole armory. Your momma would be proud.” Qakisst smiled and set to work on his planning when Konnor showed up.

“Do you ever take a break, Qakisst?”

“Oh, hi Konnor. Do you ever take that mask off?”

“Touché.”

“You gonna help or stand in the door?”

“Help, I guess. What are we doing?”

“Figuring out how to role a perfectly balanced five foot long tube out of fireforge.”

“Wow, that’s ambitious.”

“If you must aim high, shoot the sky.”

“What the hell does that mean?

“I do not know; but Master Viskalai uses it when he sets high goals.”

Work on Qakisst’s project was slow, and he was interrupted when a somewhat dower looking Pavo stuck his head in the armory door just after noon, “You’re not pissed off at me are you.”

“Hey Pavo, have you met Konnor’s mask yet?” Qakisst gestured to Konnor who was measuring carbon out in small containers for Qakisst.

“Very funny. Hello, officer Korbit.”

“Konnor. Good to see you doing something more constructive than pissing off ol’ Vinder.” Konnor snorted.

“Are you here to make peace for Korva? Because I really am not inclined to make peace just yet.”

“No. I will talk to her though.”

“Let her stew, Pavo. She has to figure out that she is not the gatekeeper to my heart. There is no spirit-born yardstick to measure the worthiness of people that like me. She will figure it out without the two of you getting into a fight. So, why are you here?”

“Oh, uh,… the mayor wants both of you in her office as soon as you get a chance. I made sure to round everybody else up first. Since I could see the smoke from the forge, I knew where you were.”

“Well crap, Pavo. Why did you not say that right away?”

“Because the other stuff is more interesting, and you really are not in a hurry to go to this meeting.”

Konnor looked up as he set down the carbon pouches that he had been measuring, “Why not?”

“Because Lord Scarnetti called the meeting to demand answers from the mayor and all of you.”

“Crap.” Konnor and Qakisst cleared their work and straightened themselves for the coming meeting.

Pavo neglected to escort the pair to the mayor’s office. They had become more than familiar with the now beaten path to Kendra Deverin’s office. They slipped in as an imposing blonde man was in the middle of a tirade. Titus Scarnetti was used to getting his own way. As head of the Scarnetti family, he was representing one of Sandpoint’s four noble houses. Mayor Deverin represented her family as well as her title. Aged Lord Ethram Valdemar had been brought up by his charismatic son Belvin to represent their family. Father Zantus was there representing the town’s clergy and Sheriff Hemlock rounded out the council of town leaders.

The youngest of Sandpoint’s four Nobles had been standing behind the door when the two young heroes entered, “You could have invited me to whatever party you were hiding at, boys.” Lady Ameiko Kaijitsu whispered softly under Titus’ current screed. “Bet it was more fun than this.” Qakisst felt his knees weaken upon realizing who was behind and right next to him. He felt his temperature shoot up and cursed his body’s betrayal.
“So which one of you is going to explain to me exactly what in the nine Hells is going on in this town!?” Titus turned to face the heroes all now assembled; just missing Ameiko’s rolling eyes.

“My Lords and Ladies, can we go through this in an orderly and civilized fashion?” Father Zantus tried to calm Titus so that they could proceed with the meeting. He should not have bothered.

“And who exactly are you supposed to be?” Tessa absentmindedly picked at tattoo ink that had gotten under her nails while addressing the Scarnetti leader.

Titus bristled angrily, “Young lady you will…” Wind puffed in Titus’ face unexpectedly interrupting him.

“Please, I have split ends older than you.” Tessa looked up from cleaning ink from under her nails, “Seriously, Madam Mayor. Who is this gas bag?” The mayor looked stunned, Lord Valdemar coughed harshly into a blood speckled kerchief while Belvin tried to suppress a smile, and Lady Ameiko looked exceptionally pleased at this turn of events as Qakisst reached an arm forward to tug at Tessa’s sleeve.

“A moment please, cousin?” Qakisst motioned to the door with his horns just as Titus regained some level of composure and began to berate the sheriff for letting some traveling vagabond speak to him in such a manor. Outside the room, where the yelling could almost be tolerated Qakisst turned to Tessa with wide eyes, “What in the name of the Dawnflower are you doing, Tessa?”

“Just asking important questions. I know who ol’ gasbag is, but he really is not half as important as he thinks; and he needs to know it.” Tessa moved to re-enter the mayor’s office as Qakisst gripped her shoulder lightly.

“Can you please stop intentionally antagonizing the wealthy noble landowners. This town has enough … Tessa!” Qakisst whispered as best he could following Tessa back into the Mayor’s office. “Tessa, please!” The volume of the argument cut off any attempt by Qakisst to get Tessa’s attention.

Titus Scarnetti continued to demand answers and berate the party as well as Sheriff Hemlock and the mayor while Tessa continued to dismiss Titus like one would a spoiled three year old, increasing the flecks of spittle spraying through Titus’ mustache.

Mayor Deverin finally raised one of the books on her desk and slammed it to the desk, “DAMN IT, TITUS! We are here to conduct an investigation not your personal witch hunt! You’ve had your say now so can we just get on with it!”

Titus seemed none too impressed, but chose to stay quiet as first Orik Vancaskerkin and then Lyrie Akenja were brought in and questioned. The party testified to Orik’s quick surrender and lack of apparent involvement in anything other than the defense of Nualia’s hideout. And even to how he had practically begged the party to get him out of there. Although, Athos’ allegations about him taking part in slavery meant he would face the Justices in Magnimar.

Their testimony on Lyrie was a little darker. She helped kidnap a Dawnflower Cleric, helped plan the attack on Sandpoint, was suspected of murder by the Pathfinder Society, and Lyrie practically threw herself at Konnor when she entered the room for her interview screaming ‘murderer’ at him. The obviously unstable wizard had been obsessed with Tsuto Kaijitsu, who had died defending Thistletop and its mastermind, Nualia Tobyn.

The council remanded both to be held over for investigation of any other crimes in Sandpoint and Magnimar, but not before Tessa could ensure that Lord Titus Scarnetti would remember her well. Once Titus had finally left and Master Valdemar had been helped out to his carriage Ameiko turned to look at those remaining, “Is this the hell I have to look forward to now?”

“We must all learn from what is different, as Desna directs us.” Father Zantus excused himself back his business at the Cathedral.

“I am terribly sorry, Ameiko, Titus can be difficult.” Mayor Deverin seemed 10 years older after the nearly two hours of council and interrogations.

“Call me if you need a drink, Madam Mayor.” Ameiko’s eyes rolled once more as she slipped out the door.

“The rest of you, thank you for your patience on a Sunday afternoon. I am sure that you would rather be anyplace else.” The mayor looked up at the party and smiled through her stress. “And can you please stop with the mask already, Konnor.” Konnor looked around; Belor frowned at him and motioned him over.

“I don’t know. I kind of like it in here now that the windbag had died down.” Tessa lazily drifted out the door as the mayor sighed.
--
Qakisst returned to his work wondering who he would find waiting on him at the workshop. Nobody was there so he worked in peace and quiet until an elf-blooded man wearing Konnor’s clothes showed up. The dusky appearance of his skin reminded Qakisst slightly of a darker skinned Shoanti or a lighter skinned Mwangi, but did not quite match either.

“Uh, hi.” Qakisst stared at Konnor for a long moment as the unmasked man sat down and resumed working on the carbon pouches Qakisst had asked him to measure out. “I will not ask. Just say something so I know it is you.”

“Piss off.” Konnor scowled at Qakisst.

“Nice to meet you, Konnor.” Qakisst smiled broadly in return.

The Exchange

This is where I found out what Drizzt 254875.9 does with his free time. A shame I still don't know in character. I haven't quite figured out that he's not a half elf yet, but then I don't have a clue in character.

Burnt Offerings: Rogue's day off:

Qakisst was his usual annoying self, but he did seem to know a lot about making weapons. Konnor knew he could learn from him, so he put up with the ifrit’s condescending attitude as they experimented with different powders and chemistry. Finally, Konnor had had enough, “You can stay and play as long as you want, but I’m heading to the Dragon to get something to drink.”

On his way to the inn, Konnor saw a small crowd in Market Square and decided to see if he could lift the purse from the absent-minded jeweler Maver Kesk. Konnor had slipped up behind him when he saw Ven Vinder and quickly ducked out of sight. He had been avoiding the big shopkeep since he had found Konnor in a compromising position with his daughter Shayliss. She had asked for help ‘killing rats’ in the basement and Konnor was happy to oblige. He had figured she would have the sense to make sure her father was not home. As it was, Konnor had to run out of the basement with his clothes in hand ducking punches from the big man. ‘Best to keep laying low for a while longer.’

When he slipped into the Dragon, he found the crowd a bit rambunctious and exciting but not oppressively crowded and overwhelming. It was a good crowd to lighten some coin purses. ‘But first, a drink.’ He signaled one of the serving girls and looked around at the crowd. Thankfully, even though the mayor made him stop wearing his mask, no one seemed to think him anything other than the half-elf he presented himself as.

He saw Tessa and Laranys at the back table so he went to join them. Tessa was busy trying to convince Laranys to get a Dawnflower tattoo as the three of them ate. Caleb and Athos came in a while later looking a little grumpy. Whatever was bothering them they kept it quiet until after they had eaten. They were just starting to complain about their lack of success in selling off any of the surplus equipment when Qakisst sat down with the group.

“I told you when we went by Master Kesk’s that everybody was going to be closed. It is worship day. You know full well the whole town closes on Sundays.” Qakisst tore into his food even as he spoke.

“I know. I was just hoping more people would cut us a little slack. We just got back from Thistletop, fer the love of all.” Caleb seemed annoyed at still being inside the city gates.

“You just want to get back out of town because I bet your mother is still bugging you about playing ranger instead of making her a grandmother.” Qakisst and Caleb were scowling at each other.

Tessa leaned into Qakisst and whispered just loud enough for the whole table to hear, “Do you want to talk about your friend Korva’s opinion?”

Qakisst turned a funny shade of gray, “No.”

“Then be nice or I’ll remember all the cutesy things said last night over your dinner.” Qakisst slid down in his seat.

Athos shook his head, “Leave him be, Tessa. I want to hear him tell us all about how he met a… what do you call them? Pixie girls?”

Qakisst’s face went from gray to maroon in seconds, “We are old friends.”

“Really? You did look very comfortable with her last night.” Sapphire slid into the seat opposite Qakisst, “I think that you are more than old friends. And how does somebody as young as you get to be old friends with a pixie girl?”

It was just getting fun making Qakisst uncomfortable when Caleb spoke up. “Seriously guys, let him be. Laure went to Turandarok Academy with us. She really is an old friend.” Caleb looked both annoyed and sympathetic at Qakisst before continuing, “Besides, we already had the talk about Qakisst being old enough to be my grandfather last week, and we have planning to do.”

Sapphire gave Qakisst a funny look before chiming in, “Okay, we’ll pick on Junior here later. What all do we need to do and what do we know about that creature in the catacombs?”

“It is a barghest; a kind of demonic goblin creature. That is all I know.” Qakisst went back to his half-eaten dinner.

“I can ask Brodert if he knows anything about the baghest thing.” Konnor volunteered while signaling for another ale.

“Barghest.”

“Whatever.”

“And you should ask Master Gandethus as well. Or I can, since I need to go see him for some scrolls anyway. And we will need to see if he wants to buy Lyrie’s spell book.” Qakisst starting ticking off on his fingers. “And we need to set that err,… Orik’s stuff aside.”

“Just call him an idiot. It is an honest assessment.” Tessa looked down at one of her admirers trying to trace a tattoo up her leg, “No, Bechi. Bad boy! You cannot follow that one all the way to the end. Now sit up and behave.” The young man blushed.

Athos scoffed at Tessa’s current admirer before he spoke up, “Yeah, he is an idiot, Tessa. But he’s a possible link to finding my brother.”

Caleb sipped at his drink before offering, “If the Justice in Magnimar does not find anything else on him we need to see about getting him honest work somehow. Maybe the city guard…”

“No way.” Qakisst cut in, “An idiot like Orik would unwittingly let an entire goblin army inside without knowing it. No, he needs work where he does not need a brain. Maybe somebody around here needs a bodyguard. Master Voon and Master Quink are always out exploring old monuments and looking for artifacts. Maybe one of them could use a bodyguard when they do so.”

“Brodert would just forget him out in the woods, or more likely forget to take him along in the first place.” Konnor rolled a copper coin along his fingers in boredom.

“Okay,…” Caleb set his beer down, “We obviously lug the weapons to your old boss, Kisst. Armor to the Red Dog, and we already dropped the jewelry at Kesk’s.” He pointed at Qakisst, “You are already going to see Master Gandethus in the morning so take the witch’s book to him.”

“She is not a witch. Don’ go insulting witches like that or one will put a hex on us.” Tessa slapped the hand of young Bechi, “Don’ make me get out my needles, boy.” Returning her attention to the party, “Please continue, Caleb.”

Qakisst cut in, “Uh, there were a couple of things in the treasure that Tessa and I need to go over before we split it all and sell it. Things that lit up to ‘othersight’ but that I have not been able to figure out yet.”

“Can you figure them out tonight?” Konnor was annoyed with all this sitting and talking and not doing anything.

“If you want to go get them and bring them all down here to this nice private bar.” Tessa had the young man Bechi by the nose pulling him to his feet, “You are such a brave lad. Sit!”

“We will check them out in the morning, Konnor. I can drag them down to my cottage tomorrow morning if we have to so that we are not taking up your dad’s workshop.” Qakisst signaled for another beer as he spoke.

“You have a cottage?” Half the party intoned at once looking at him.

“I thought you were still bunking in the back of Savah’s Armory.” Caleb looked sideways at him, “And you could have a room here anytime you wanted. Careful cousin; you are going to grow roots.”

Qakisst stuck his tongue out at Caleb, “Yes, I have a cottage. I rented it near the beginning of the month; and I am even considering buying it.” Sipping his second beer, “And do not give me grief about roots. You live in your mother’s attic when you are not camping in one of Shalelu’s forest cabins.”

“You live in your mother’s attic?” Sapphire smiled at Caleb, “I did not take you for a momma’s boy, Caleb.” The rest of the party laughed as Caleb glared at them.

After a while the seven adventurers, and Tessa’s current fan, made as much headway as they could before shops and stores would open tomorrow. While Tessa demonstrated to young Bechi why tattoos are a very painful form of art Konnor kept an eye out for Vinder. The shopkeep usually stuck to the Hagfish, but best not to get surprised. As Qakisst got half the inn dancing around, Konnor spied a couple decent looking marks. A couple flicks of his wrist and an accidental collision later and he had another donation for the Cathedral. ‘It’s a good thing I am such a nice guy, because this town makes it much too easy.’

The Exchange

While I definitely enjoy writing from Qakisst's perspective I find that the two other characters I really like writing for are Tessa and Sapphire. They have very distinct personalities brought out by the people playing them. That makes it very easy. Not much action today, but then I'm not really writing about the action as much as the characters.

Burnt Offerings: Sapphire in Sandpoint:

Morning eased itself into the all too comfortable room. Sleepy eyes eased open and Sapphire felt truly decadent. A slight frown crossed her face, “Blessed Inheritor, it would be all too easy to get used to this.” The young aasimar stretched and let the bedding fall away as she stood and looked about her surroundings. The light of the sun bled around the dark curtains to her second story window in the Rusty Dragon. Sapphire threw open the curtains to look out across Mud Lane toward the Turandarok River thinking it must be well past six bells already.

The slender but powerful woman turned away from the window and set her feet square then fell forward stiff as a board catching herself with her hands falling right into her morning workout. Being a child of the Inheritor was not a task for the weak. Her newfound companions were not all as strong of body as she was accustomed and Sapphire would not shirk in her duties to protect them. Her workout was quick but efficient.

When finished; Sapphire turned south to face distant Absalom and the Starstone, where the goddess Iomedae had overcome her mortal shell and ascended to godhood, pulled out her sword and prayed,

“Blessed Inheritor,
I shall learn the weight of my sword.
Without my heart to guide it, it is worthless - my strength is not my sword, but my heart.
If I lose my sword, I have lost a tool.
If I lose my heart, I have died.
I will have faith in the Inheritor.
I will channel her strength through my body.
I will shine in her legion, and I will not tarnish her glory through base actions.
I will suffer death before dishonor.
For Victory, For the Heart.”

She then rose, donned her armor and strode out the door to her room. As she descended the stairs of the Dragon, Sapphire found the big Shoanti warrior Athos seated in the common; hard at breakfast wearing lighter combat gear but not full armor. “Good morning, Athos. Is nobody else joining us this morning?”

“You just missed Caleb. He seemed eager to get up to his father’s workshop to get everything sorted. If I know Qakisst, he’s already there.” Athos paused to speak clearly without talking around food. “You’d better grab something to eat. There never seem to be breaks for lunch with this group.”

“Isn’t it going to get a bit expensive staying here long?” Sapphire looked about the well apportioned inn as a young serving girl carried a large plate of fruit, bread, and cheese to the table and sat it in front of Sapphire.

“It would, except that Lady Ameiko was not kidding about her giving you room and board for life for helping to deal with her turncoat brother, Tsuto.” Athos took a bite of cheese and gestured to the chair in front of Sapphire, “Please sit m’Lady. You earned a bit of noble treatment. Besides, Lord Foxglove headed back to Magnimar yesterday so you won’ have anybody waiting on you hand and foot.”

Sapphire smiled at the thought of Aldern as she slipped into the offered seat. “I’m not sure how comfortable I am with living off of Lady Ameiko’s generosity, Athos. A just reward I can accept; but lifelong accommodation feels too much like I am taking advantage.”

“It would be hard to take advantage of Lady Ameiko. The Kaijitsu family is apparently the wealthiest family in Sandpoint. But if you like, I don’ think she would be offended if you insisted on paying your own way…” Athos picked up a slice of apple and pointed it at Sapphire, “… as long as you wait about a week. She let Qakisst and Caleb beg out of staying here most of the time without comment after about that much time.”

“I thought Qakisst and Caleb were staying here?” Sapphire picked through the plate of fruit, cheese, and bread trying each in turn.

“Night before last, sure.” Athos looked up at the ceiling, “But Celeb never stays more than one night before he’s back in the woods camped under the stars. And Qakisst has his own home in town. In fact it was rather startling to see him actually take his pretty young friend in the yellow dress upstairs that night.”

“Oh?”

“We’re used to seeing Qakisst slip out alone about ten bells each night. Sometimes as late as eleven; but always alone.” Athos chuckled, “He thinks he’s subtle when he does it, but he stands out from clear across the room. Everybody knows he does it.”

“Maybe he snuck out from upstairs after leaving the common room the other night.”

“If he did, he snuck back in just before sunrise yestermorn. I saw him heading out up to the Cathedral myself.” Athos chuckled, “For somebody so eager for female attention, he’s ridiculously shy. You should see him stutter around some girls; you can' understand a thing he says; but play a little music and he wants to dance with all of them.”

“Maybe that’s just his cover.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if Qwakist and Caleb slip off to stay someplace else almost every night, who is to say they aren’t staying together?”

“I am.” Tessa flopped into the seat next to Sapphire looking bedraggled and tired with wild hair drifting in an unfelt breeze. “Why does the sun come up so early in the autumn?”

“And how do you know, Tessa? Are you privy to the inner workings of Qwakist and Caleb?”

“Caleb is in love with an idea.” Tessa picked up a slice of apple from Sapphire’s plate. “He will marry Mother Nature before anybody else.” Biting the apple, Tessa continued, “And Cousin Kisst does not think he is good enough for even his young lady Laure. He is just too clueless and afraid to realize that half the young ladies in town would give anything to get him to slip out the door with them each evening at 10.”

“Maybe.” Sapphire looked at Tessa sideways as she pushed the remains of her breakfast in front of Tessa. “Okay so Caleb already left and Qwakist slept at his own house last night. Shouldn’t we catch up with them?”

“I will catch up in a moment. Athos can show you were Caleb’s parent’s shop is at.” Tessa picked up another slice of apple and examined it closely. “Best hurry or I will beat you there.”

As the two walked out of the Dragon Sapphire looked back through the door at Tessa still examining the apple slice, “She’s an odd one. Very protective though.”

“Our very own mother hen. Strange as it seems, the less she appears to pays attention, the more attention she's paying.” Athos shrugged. “But she’s pretty generous with the potions so we don’ object to her oddities.”

Athos and Sapphire chatted as they strolled lazily over to and up Main Street greeting people as they went. As they passed the Turandarok Academy they found themselves swarmed by dozens of children with questions about the goblins and Thistletop. Athos seemed slightly flustered to Sapphire; like he did not know how to respond to the inquisitive pack of youngsters. The two might have been overwhelmed by the mob had a stern faced middle aged man in arcane robes not appeared at the entrance to the school.

“Class, children.” The tall man clapped his hands like thunder to catch the children’s attention, “I will not accept excuses for tardy slips on my desk just because two of Sandpoint's heroes happened to be strolling past the school today.” The steps to Turandarok erupted in a great sigh as the youngsters ascended the steps and entered the schoolhouse. “You will have to excuse them, Master Athos. All children yearn for a touch of excitement. I do try to discourage too much adventurism, but Sandpoint provides so many opportunities.” The distinguished man stepped up to them and extended a hand to Sapphire, “You would be Lady Sapphire, I presume? I am Ilsoari Gandethus, headmaster at Turandarok Academy.” Gandethus gave a curt bow to Sapphire. “It is a pleasure to meet you, m’Lady. I am certain that we will see more of each other over time. Now, don’t let me keep you. I just felt it best to rescue you from the mob lest my entire school be late to class.” Gandethus smiled at them both and turned back up the steps to the school.

“Well that was exciting. “Sapphire smiled as the two of them turned back up Main Street.

“I for one do not know how he manages that mob.” Athos shook his head, “I cannot imagine being locked up in a room for so many hours each day. I would have gone mad as a child.”

“Do all of Sandpoint’s children attend school here?” Sapphire looked back over her shoulder at the school.

“I don’ know. I think Caleb said that he and Qakisst went to school here. They said that Tsuto did as well. Somebody said that Ameiko was home schooled though. During the day you don’ see kids rampaging the streets until after three bells so they must either all be in the school or at lessons with their parents.” Athos grinned. “I guess you can only keep them caged so long before the wild animals escape.”

“I know I would not have liked being cooped up all day; but I see the advantage of it. Everybody learns to read and write early, I would think.” Sapphire smirked, “Then they can focus on learning a trade or something once old enough. I am just more accustomed to seeing the wealthy send their children to school while the rest teach at home. It would seem that Sandpoint has decided to do this the other way around.”

“What kept you?” Tessa stood by the door to the Deverin’s woodshop at the far north end of Main Street. “You did not have to fight your way through the Main Street Mob this morning, did you?” Tessa looked at both Athos and Sapphire with a crooked grin. Her hair flowed about her perfectly groomed.

“You were watching, weren’t you?” Athos raised an eyebrow as he glared at Tessa.

“I would have thought you knew better than to dare Main Street before eight bells already, Athos.” Tessa hunched her shoulders, raised her hands like claws and lurched at Athos, “Here there be dragons!”

Athos ignored the playful banter and knocked on the Deverin door. Quickly a young man opened the door, “High, you’re Athos, right? Conner Deverin.” The younger Deverin shook hands with Athos, “Lady Tessa,” nodding politely to Tessa as Sapphire introduced herself. He led the trio back toward the workshop where they could hear somewhat loud voices.

“Don’ give me, Master Deverin, Qakisst.” A loud and stern voice carried through the workshop door in front of them.

“Um, you go right back through that door there. Nice to meet you all.” Conner Deverin pointed to the workshop door then ducked back into the house itself.

“You make damned sure that nothing you bring in this house is dangerous.” The door to the workshop opened and out strode an older version of Caleb and Conner Deverin. The elder Deverin paused only briefly to look at the unexpected trio, scowled slightly and nodded to the three of them, “Lady Tessa.” Then he strode into the house with a scowl.

“Caleb I’m…” Qakisst’s voice beyond the door seemed small.

“Shut up Kisst.

“… sorry.”

Athos stepped up to the door looking into the wood working shop he had only first seen the night before last, “It could be worse.” Caleb and Qakisst turned to him standing in the shop door, “We could have stabled that big black horse in here.” Qakisst nearly choked as Caleb glared at Athos.

“Don’t sweat it, Caleb.” Sapphire pushed Athos forward into the shop and stepped in behind him. “We’ll have this all out of here in a moment.”

Konnor slipped into the room behind Tessa as the party began to divvy up the loot so that it could all be delivered to where it needed to go for trade, identified the few things that they could, and split into groups to be about the day’s business. Sapphire chose to help Qakisst carry the weapons they had recovered as he headed to Savah’s Armory. Qakisst seemed a bit too pleased to have her along, which made Sapphire nervous.

“So who is this Savah we're going to see? A local weapons merchant?”

“Not exactly; well yeah. She sells weapons of all kinds, but she makes them too. She was my trainer in weapon crafting up until a few weeks ago. Still lets me do work in her shop.” Qakisst continued to grin as the two walked along lugging the weapons and armor for trade. “Um, do you think you could go over everything with her?”

Sapphire looked at Qakisst cautiously, “Why don’t you want to?”

“I want to talk to Keth and Ben, her other two apprentices. They are great guys; but a little weird until you get used to them.” The two paused on Shell Street just up from an open warehouse door, “When they get talking, it is like talking to one person in two bodies.”

Sapphire paused a moment to look at Qakisst before replying, “Twins?”

“Yeah.”

“One soul in two bodies?”

“Nah, nothing like that. They are just so used to each other that they talk in harmony. Come on.” Qakisst led Sapphire past the warehouse door they had stopped just in front of, and around the corner to a public entrance in the front of the same building. “SAVAH!” A well-proportioned brunette woman in working leathers strolled in to the shop wiping her hands on a rag.

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT me from the front of… Oh…. Hello.” She seemed somewhat stunned as she stood behind the counter.

“Hey Savah, can you go through this gear with Sapphire and quote us a price?” Qakisst rolled out a blanket on the counter laying out the selection of weapons the party had recovered from their opponents over the last week. Sapphire followed suit.

“Uh, you know how to price it all.”

“Well yeah, but it would not be right for me to price my own salvage, would it? I am going to say hi to Ben and Keth; oh hi Ben. Can you give Savah a hand sorting this stuff?” Savah was already sorting the weapons laid out on her oversized counter, but Sapphire noted that the woman seemed a bit out of sorts. She kept looking up and then shuffling the same item around. The younger Ben seemed equally capable of shuffling the same items right out from under Savah. The two were quickly tripping over each other trying to figure out what they had in front of them while staring at Sapphire.

Sapphire smiled at them both as Savah dropped the pearl handled dagger, picked it up, and then dropped it again. Qakisst slipped behind the counter and into the back work area leaving Sapphire to stand bemused in front of his two obviously enamored friends. Ben’s twin momentarily poked his head out from the back room, scowled in her direction then retreated behind the work room door.

“So that’s three and a quarter, no… three fifteen, and that’s ten, and…” Savah mumbled through the numbers looking up constantly at Sapphire as Ben continuously stared unashamedly while handing her the same blades three and four times.

“Don’ forget this…”

“Oh yeah that’s, damn it.” Savah laid out the weapons again and started from the top as Qakisst slipped in the door to the front shop, “So, this is seven and a half and this is…”

“Come on Savah, half value is 2773 and 5 silver for everything, but take this and this out of the list. Total is 2666.” Qakisst pulled out the pearl handled dagger and Caleb’s old scimitar that he had replaced. “I will come back later today and pick up our receipt for the bank.”

“I need to run the count again, boy. You don't need to be rushing me!” Savah glared at Qakisst.

“Run the count again, Savah. I know you would never cheat me.” He motioned to the door, “Sapphire and I have things to do. You know I trust you, oh teacher of mine.” Sapphire looked at Qakisst as he opened the front door and gestured to the street beyond, “M’Lady Sapphire?”
“A pleasure to meet you both.” Sapphire slipped out the door that Qakisst held for her.

“Don’ go leaving the wood stock empty again, boy. If you come into my workshop on worship days you put things right.” As Savah yelled at Qakisst her eyes followed the young Shield Maiden of Iomedae. When they were gone she lightly patted Ben on the cheek, “You can quit drooling now, boy.”

“Wipe your own chin first.” Ben ducked out the back door before Savah could toss anything at him.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Sapphire looked at Qakisst with a wicked grin as they crossed Tower to High Street.

“I do not know what you are talking about. Savah is usually so well composed.” The grin on Qakisst’s face made a complete liar of him as he let go a laugh. Sapphire quickly joined in. When the two stopped Qakisst looked at Sapphire seriously, “You are not mad about that are you?”

“No. It was just a little fun.”

“Because I know some people do not approve of sayach, err, shield mates.” Qakisst looked back at the armory as the two moved down High Street.

“No, it does not bother me.”

“You really did have them flustered. Well, Savah and Ben anyway.”

As Qakisst and Sapphire turned the corner onto Festival Street towards his cottage Sapphire noted the things he had kept, “Is that Caleb’s old scimitar?”

Qakisst looked over at Sapphire, “Yeah. And this is the pearl hilted dagger I pulled out of the wall at Thistletop.”

“Okay, I get the dagger, but Caleb tossed that blade in to sell with everything else.”

“Do not worry. I will toss in the seven and five from my own pocket for the scimitar and the 100 for the pearl handled dagger.”

“No, I am not questioning you taking them; just you wanting the scimitar.” Sapphire grinned at Qakisst mischievously, “You were worried about me having an issue with shield mates. So is Caleb who you’re pining for?” Qakisst nearly choked out a laugh.

“No…” chough, “Heh heh, no. That is funny. No. No, I made this scimitar.” Qakisst held up the elegantly curved blade for Sapphire to examine. “At least I think this is one of mine. Possibly my first.”

“Are you kidding me? That looks like a well-used weapon.” Sapphire took the offered blade and turned it in her grip, “You’re barely old enough to have made something this nice last week. Were you working a forge in diapers?” The pair turned up River Street toward Qakisst’s cottage.

“Probably. But that would have been in Qadira; I made this blade right back there in Savah’s Armory as her apprentice.”

“Well now, Caleb must have really put some hard wear on it to make it look so worn in just a year or two.”

“Five years.”

“Five years? How young were you when you apprenticed to Savah?”

“How old was I? I think I was a little past fifty-four.” Qakisst pulled a key from a loop in the cloth around his haramaki and fitted it into his front door. “I was between fifteen and twenty the first time I pulled a bellows I think; so not much past diapers.”

Had they not already stopped at his door Sapphire might have tripped with the surprise, “What?” She struggled to wrap her mind around the numbers. “Wait a minute. You can't be a day past sixteen now.”

“Caleb did say that I was old enough to be his grandpa last night.” Qakisst pushed open his door and stepped into his home, “There is no need to stand on the step, Sapphire. Come on in.” Sapphire jumped and stepped into the front room.

“This is cozy. Very minimalist. Now quit yanking my chain.” Sapphire looked around the front room to Qakisst’s small cottage.

“I am not yanking your chain. I figured you would be older than me but now I am guessing not. It is rare for the planes-touched to not have some form of extended life.” Qakisst stepped through a bead curtain and deposited his new treasures in the next room before coming back out.

“Having known Nualia I did not expect to meet another aasimar that did not have to endure eternal youth.”

“Endure eternal… wait, are you comparing me to that evil b%@!~?” Sapphire gave Qakisst a slightly comical scowl as she fluffed her hair behind her slightly fuzzy pointed ears, “I will have you know that I am nothing like that b#!~*.”

“Oh yes, with ears like those you are a completely different breed of b~!$~.” Qakisst kept his tone perfectly flat and looked at Sapphire through slitted eyelids. When Sapphire laughed he started breathing again.

“Don’t worry about taking me so seriously.” Sapphire punched Qakisst in the arm lightly, “So you really do not age like other humans?”

“We are not exactly human, Sapphire.” Qakisst opened the front door for Sapphire.

“Yes we are.” Sapphire stepped out the door and stood waiting for him.

“And how many humans do you know with fluffy puppy ears or bull horns?” Qakisst locked the front door and checked that it was secure.

“Just two.” Sapphire pointed back and forth between herself and Qakisst.

“You are just determined to make me like you, are you not?” The pair headed across town to Main Street and Turandarok Academy.

“What? You don’t like me?” Sapphire gave Qakisst a wounded pout.

“I do not know you really.” Qakisst shrugged.

“True.”

“And I have to admit that I have not had good luck with aasimars that I have met.”

“And exactly how many aasimar have you known?”

“Just two.” Qakisst grinned.

Selling off equipment proved to be a quick task and before midday the party had gathered at the Dragon to count coin and divide their funds. The six of them agreed to send Laranys’ share to her at the Cathedral. Caleb had spent the morning going through Nualia’s journals and he shared what he had found as the group ate.

“It’s like we thought. When that Runewell below town woke up and filled the town with rage, she kinda tipped over the edge. She had felt abused and isolated growing up and maltreated specially because of her angelic heritage. You remember; people used to ask for a lock of her hair to cure a fever.”

“She was picked on a lot in school too; though she took most of her lessons at temple.” Qakisst frowned.

“That must have been hard for her to go through. Not that it excuses anything she’s done since.” Sapphire was suddenly very grateful of her accepting parents that strived to give her a normal childhood. Had Onyx gone through something similar before falling so low?

“Evidently, she had been seeing some Varisi boy named Delek Viskanta and he ran off when she told him she was with child.”

“Delek always was a selfish bastard.” Qakisst clearly did not like his extended Varisi family having been the bad actor in this drama.

“Well, it gets worse. She lost the baby the night that the Chopper was killed. She fell into a coma and her journals take a turn for the crazy after she woke up. She happily wrote about locking her father’s door and setting the fire in the temple. After that she moved on to Magnimar and fell in with some kind of cult there. With their help she tracked Delek down and murdered him.”

“Emin mısınız? Ciddiye? Uh, sorry. Are you serious?” Qakisst fumbled his words at the shock of hearing what had happened to Delek.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” Tessa sorted through unmarked pouches in her backpack as she commented.

“That’s cold, Tessa.” Caleb looked up at his tattooed friend.

“Hey, the only think that makes me sad about Delek Viskanta is he owed me for a tattoo. I guess I can forgive him for not paying up now.” Tessa flipped open a ledger from her pack as she spoke and crossed out a line, “Paid in full.”

“Okay, remind me not get cross Tessa.” Athos looked sideways at Tessa as Caleb continued.

“Well anyway; some mysterious ‘sponsor’ in the cult sent her back to Sandpoint, where she found the Catacombs under the town. There she began studying with Erylium, the quasit we killed. Evidently, she tutored Nualia about Lamashtu and sent her to Thistletop to release Malfeshnekor.”

“You guys fought a quasit?” Sapphire sipped from a beer as she tried to keep up with the conversation. “I thought Sandpoint was supposed to be a nice quiet frontier town.”

“Mostly.” Caleb shrugged as he replied. “Anyway, since it looks like Konnor was right all along and this has always been an extensive conspiracy; I think it best that I head out to the Nettles to guard the entrance to Thistletop right away.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you to go back out there by yourself, Caleb. It may have only been two days, but there’s no telling what else has shown up; and that thing is still locked up down in the basement.” Sapphire sat upright as she finished her drink.

“I won’t be alone. Wolfie will keep me company and Shalelu already headed back out this morning.” Caleb leafed through Nualia’s notes.

“No dice. I’m going.” Sapphire locked eyes with Caleb.

“Me too. I want to be there if anything happens.” Athos perked up at joining in.

“Look, we’re just going to be camped out in the woods making sure nothing wanders in. Cold camp, no fire.” Caleb seemed to be actively discouraging the rest from joining him.

“Sounds fun. Count me in.” The others looked at Tessa in stunned disbelief. “What? I think I left a shoe out there. Can’t a girl go looking for her shoes when she wants?”

Sapphire turned to Qakisst who was looking somewhat sheepish. “Ben yakalayacak… er; I will have to catch up. I have to wait for scrolls I ordered this morning from Master Gandethus and Master Voon. We are planning to fight a barghest and what we think might be the shadowed dead. We will need these scrolls.”

“How long will it take?” Athos looked past Qakisst to signal the barmaid as he spoke.

“Master Voon said the ones I ordered from him will be done before he retires for the evening. Master Gandethus said before class starts in the morning.” Qakisst closed his eyes momentarily as if he were thinking, “I should be out to the Nettles before ten bells. And if I have any problems I can cast a snapdragon straight into the air high enough you will see it.”

“I’ll hang back. You won’t need me tonight and Qakisst and I can zip out in the morning.” Konnor tipped up a beer as he spoke. The group turned to him with a puzzled look.

“Hot date with Shayliss tonight?” Caleb looked knowingly at Konnor.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure she’s grounded for life. But you won’t need me out hugging trees and I can babysit Qakisst in the morning.” When the barmaid brought Athos a beer, Konnor ordered two more.

“Babysitter? Really?” Qakisst rolled his eyes.

“It’s not a bad idea, kid.” Qakisst looked at Sapphire with an angry scowl. “You don’t really need a babysitter, but it’s always better to have a partner. I learned that lesson the hard way.” Sapphire’s hoped the reference to how the party had found her captured while traveling alone softened the sting of her words to the ifrit.

“It’s settled them. Let’s get our gear and head out in half an hour. We’ll see you gentlemen in the morning.” Caleb pushed away from the table and went to get his gear.

Less than thirty minutes later the group reassembled in front of the Dragon and started up the street. Qakisst had departed for the armory and Konnor had slipped off to tasks unknown. As the rest of the group headed up Festival Street towards the main gates to Sandpoint, Sapphire looked around her, “No horses this time?”

“We were in a bigger hurry last time, and we did not know how far we would have to go. Now we know exactly where we’re going and it's less than a couple hours walk. Why endanger horses?” Caleb waved to several people as they departed town. All of them waved back.

“You’re a popular fellow, Caleb.” Sapphire kept pace with Caleb as they trailed shortly behind Tessa.

“Small town; everybody knows everybody.” Caleb scanned the road and the surrounding trees as the party exited the gate. From above a voice called out.

“Are we expecting you back in the gate tonight, Caleb?” Pavo Korbit shouted from his post in the guard tower.

“No!” Caleb shouted back, “Be out at Thistletop until tomorrow or Wealday. Keep an eye on Kisst for me in the morning, Pavo. He and Konnor will be following us out in the morning.”

“I’ll get Captain Merik to give me circuit in the morning to keep an eye on him and check on you guys. You owe me a drink.”

“Done.” Caleb gave Pavo a thumb up as Tessa stopped to examine flowers beside the road.

“And as you see, everybody knows everybody’s business.” Athos mimed a mouthing motion with his free hand while adjusting his shield.

“True enough. There are few secrets in Sandpoint.” Caleb shrugged.

“Except for who is sleeping with you boys?” Sapphire poked at Caleb and Athos. “You sure he’s sneaking off to the woods alone, Athos?”

Tessa caught up to the three from where she had paused to examine flowers a moment ago, “Athos sleeps alone and Caleb is sleeping with a puppy.” Tessa zipped past them at a slow walk.

“Hey! It’s nobody’s business who I sleep with!” Athos glowered at Tessa, “Just because I haven' been tracing your tattoos like the lads at the Dragon.”

Caleb rubbed his hand over his face, “Tessa! What is your issue?”

Sapphire snickered at both men as they walked.

“Sapphire asked a question so I answered when I knew you would not.” Tessa flittered back and forth across the road in front of them as if searching for something. “There he is!” With feigned excitement she pointed off into the trees on the north side of the road.

“Tessa.” Caleb glowered at Tessa pointing behind her to the right side of the road.

Tessa zipped across the packed dirt surface right to the edge of the roadway, swirls of dust erupting behind her, “PUPPY!” She knelt beside the road peering into the brush. A faint growl could be heard, but no movement.

“Is that?” Sapphire’s hand went to the greatsword strapped over her shoulder.

“Caleb’s pet wolf.” Athos rolled his eyes.

“He’s not a pet. He just likes following me around.” Caleb gripped Sapphire’s sword arm, “It’s okay. He won’ hurt anybody.”

“You sure?” Sapphire looked past Tessa then at Caleb.

“Didn’ you hear Tessa? They sleep together.” Athos punched Caleb playfully in the shoulder.

“Shush, all of you. We’ll be back in goblin territory soon enough.” Caleb glowered at his companions, “You can joke around when we get back to Sandpoint all you want.”

Sapphire enjoyed the quiet of the woods as they continued on to the Nettles; or more appropriately she tried to. As they walked; Tessa flitted back and forth across the road as she continued to prattle about the wolf following them, if for no other reason than to annoy Caleb. Sapphire did her best to keep her mind on the larger task at hand. Tomorrow they would be facing the barghest Malfeshnekor again, and she would not fail.

The Exchange

Our friend Brian took a turn at trying to write part of the story from Caleb's point of view. It gave me a great insight into Caleb's personality. When Caleb gets introspective the old man of the woods comes out and you can faintly hear banjo music in the background. But he doesn't quite get Tessa. I had to go back with my son's help to re-edit the conversation between the two of them. I rather like how it came out.

And Caleb's friend gets an official name as the GM worked him into the game. It is always far more awesome when a GM works an animal companion into a game naturally instead of having them just show up.

Burnt Offerings: Mischief:

“Your boyfriend is following us again, isn’t he?” Tessa drifted along at a lazy lope beside Caleb.

“If you’re talking about my wolf friend, yup.” Caleb ignored Tessa’s attempt at levity as he glanced out into the woods along the road seeing only a flitting shadow in the underbrush.

“He’s been following us since we left Windsong Abbey, hasn’t he?” Tessa’s eyes looked right trying to catch a glimpse of the big wolf stalking them, as her head looked left.

“Yup. Probably longer.” Caleb seemed unconcerned by the big predator.

“Well, that was, like, what, almost three weeks ago?? What does he do, just wait outside Sandpoint until we come out again?” Tessa turned to face Caleb and kept pace as the group marched up the road heading towards the Nettle Woods.

“Until I come out, yup.” The indifference Caleb displayed obviously annoyed the Varisi tattooist.

“Well, I think he’s losing his touch, because I can see him.”

“Nope.” Caleb smirked at Tessa’s smug assertion.

“Nope! Caleb, what do you mean, ‘Nope’?” Tessa stopped in front of Caleb; forcing him to walk around her.

“I mean, Nope, Tessa. The fact is he wants you to see him.”

“He wants me to see him? Oh that is so sweet. Every time I look around, there he is looking at me. It’s so unnerving that it is exciting.”

“Exciting?” Caleb slowed only a little as Tessa caught back up with him almost beaming.

“YES! Please tell me he wants to play!” Tessa’s clenched fists shook with excitement.

“Yes, I think he wants to play with you, Tessa. He’s singled you out. You saw him on our first trip out here to Thistletop, didn’t you?” Caleb resumed marching the road to the Nettles as Athos and Sapphire caught up with him and Tessa.

“Yes.”

“Well, no one else besides me has seen him outside our little campfire after the trip to Windsong. What did you think, that you were special or something?”

“Of course I’m special. Your fluffy little friend wants to play with me. Wait, what do you mean, singled me out?”

“He’s singled you out because he knows that he can play with your head.”

“Wait, play with my head?” Tessa gave Caleb a dubious look. “Your little friend is cute and all, but please. Nobody messes with my head.”

“Are you sure?”

“Caleb, he’s just a wolf; not a worg or anything special.”

“Oh, he’s special all right.” Caleb was both annoyed and pleased that Tessa would underestimate his lupine friend. “He wants you to see him. He knows that you’re fascinated by him. He’s studying you, Tessa. Every bit as much or more than you’re studying him.”

“Say what??!!”

“He picked you out, probably the night we gathered around the campfire on our way back from the abbey. There’s something about you that he doesn’ quite understand, something about your smell, or taste. Like I said, he’s messing with your head so he can figure you out.” Caleb pointed at Tessa knowingly.

“Wolves can’t do that, Caleb. Wait, my taste?” Tessa seemed a bit startled by the idea that Caleb’s wolf companion might actually know what she tasted like. “He knows what I taste like?”

“Well, this one can do it. He’s rather clever and a bit mischievous, he is. In fact, that would be a good name for him: Loki.”

“You’re naming him ‘mischief’? Explain, please.” Tessa seemed intent on spotting Loki in the woods now, but could not see even a stray hair among the autumn leaves.

“Well, you’re right; Loki is the Varisi word for mischief. Now, ever since he started following me, Wolfie, or rather, Loki, has caused several of my things to ‘disappear’, if you will. I’ll make camp and go to sleep and the following morning, my boots will be gone, or my blanket will be rolled up on the other side of camp, firewood will get moved, my weapon belt will be in the middle of a tangle of thorn bushes, you get the idea. Hells, I had to track him halfway to Magnimar once to get my bow back. I always find everything, he makes sure of that. Nothing is ever damaged and it certainly isn’t done out of spite. It’s a game to him, a practical joke.” Caleb smiled as he remembered chasing Loki across the hinterlands time and again.

“You’re making this up, right?” Tessa raised a questioning eyebrow as they continued the march to the Nettle Woods.

“Nope.”

“So you’re saying ‘Wolfie’ likes to play pranks?”

“Yup.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me? That is SO COOL!”

“Not kidding.”

“That is just about the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, it’s true. One time, while I was helping out at one of the local farmsteads, he bolted through the open barn and spooked all the livestock. When he got to the other end, he turned around and looked at me. I swear if he’d been human, he’d have had the silliest, wiliest grin on his face. He ran off into the woods……and waited. Once the farmer got his animals calmed down, back he came, running through the barn again, howling at the top of his lungs. This happened four more times before the farmer finally wised up and shut the barn doors. Every time he did it, he looked at me and I swear he was laughing.”

“Ok. I stand corrected. THAT’S the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yup.”

“So, what you’re saying is, we’ve got an armored barbarian thug, hell bent on avenging his brother, a twig of a girl that doesn’t look like she could lift a fork, but wields a greatsword like a freaking fire giant, a, literally, bull headed boy that can shoot fire out of his eyeballs, a masked kid who has trouble talking about himself but has NO problems with the ladies, you – enough said, ‘cause you’re just weird, me, and now your sidekick, a wolf whose trying to get a day job as a jester in Sandpoint? That’s totally insane! I think we should invite the Sandpoint Devil to join our little bunch and round out the group. He’d fit right in.”

“Yup. Though that last part about the Sandpoint Devil might be a bit much.”

“Well, variety is the spice of life, Caleb.” Athos quick-marched up to Caleb as they approached the entrance to the Nettle Woods.

“I agree with Athos.” Tessa drifted to a stop in front of the now well stomped path through the woods to Thistletop.

“Well here we are, and by the way, I’m not a twig.” Sapphire stomped up next to the others as he stopped just on the edge of the road.

“Ok. Everyone set up camp. Loki and I will take a quick look around before settling in. No fires tonight. Noise and light discipline go into effect as there are still goblins wandering about. See you in a bit.”

“Did he just call his wolf, Loki?” Sapphire looked at the other two as they began to set upcamp.

Athos and Sapphire quickly established a well concealed camp just off the road and the party settled for the night. Tessa’s efforts to carefully examined her surroundings looking for Loki made Caleb laugh to himself, but she saw no sign of him throughout the evening until she drifted off to sleep. Loki was testing her limits and that made Caleb marvel at the clever canine.

Just as dawn broke through the canopy above Caleb woke to the chilly morning air, he found Sapphire staring at him intently with a bemused look on her face. “What? What are you looking at?”

“You. You and your cute little boyfriend.”

“My what?? Hey, where’s my blanket?”

“Roll over.”

“I can’t. There’s a … a wolf?… next to me?”

“Yep. He strolled in a few hours ago, according to Athos. Tried to make off with a pair of boots, a backpack, then my shoulder guards. Each time Athos chased him off. I got up for my watch and he wandered in, a genuine look of defeat on his poor face. He lay down next to you and pulled your blanket off and onto himself. Ornery cur, if you ask me.” Sapphire grinned at Caleb as he smiled.

“Yup, just like me.”

The Exchange

I purposely play Qakisst like a high school kid while everybody else is trying to be too serious. But there's no doubt that Qakisst does not like Konnor. For some reason he just doesn't trust the elven rogue I call Drizzt 254875.9.

Burnt Offerings: The Brats:

The sun called to him, gently, softly, warmly. F$$! off sun! “GAHHHH!” Qakisst rolled over and buried his head under his pillow and heard a ripping sound. Feathers flew everywhere as the all too constant reminders of his unhuman heritage ripped into the fabric of his pillow. He had to wrestle the pillow free of the eight inch long horns on his brow just to toss the now worthless piece of bedding away. “Damn it. Let me sleep for once!” The sun was merciless.

Last night had ended in disaster. Qakisst had actually worked up the nerve to ask her to dance. HER! The butterflies had been zooming about his stomach like snapdragons only to explode all at once when she turned him down. She had been very proper, even regal in her declination. It was not as if she had laughed at him, or mocked him. No; she had simply been too busy for him. He had always known that she would have better things to do than to waste a moment on the funny little boy with such questionable heritage. Qakisst would have felt better this morning if she had simply run him through with her rapier and left him to bleed out on the floor.

Light was beginning to seep through the not quite properly fitting shutters on his bedroom window now so he drug himself from the bed and set the little cantrips he knew how to cast to gathering feathers as he groused and grumbled. Extra time was wasted mending the pillow, thought he thought he should just replace it on market day. With only the limited light of early morning he trudged up the hill to face an even worse fate than being turned down by the high and mighty Lady Ameiko Kaijitsu; breakfast at the White Deer Inn.

He slipped in through the White Deer’s kitchen as normal. The entire kitchen staff turned as one to look at him; almost as though they had been expecting him. “So it is that bad, is it?” Qakisst ran a hand across his face even as he spoke and the kitchen staff turned back to work. One of the younger kitchen girls, he thought her name was Imaya, gave him a sympathetic smile. He returned it as best he could while filling his plate and slipped into the common room to sit at the table that the Viskalai family used each morning for breakfast. He felt incredibly lucky not to have run into Korva in the kitchen but his luck stopped there.

She was sitting with her back to the kitchen, which was not normal, with Tanjah in his traditional seat that looked out across the common room. So he swallowed his pride and sat between them knowing they had planned this. Better to let them beat him up now than later in an even more public setting than the half full common room of Sandpoint’s most prestigious inn. “Ladies.” Tanjah just grunted back at him.

“It is not Sunday.” Korva was going over kitchen inventory manifests that her mother had assigned her to review. Her already finished plate had been pushed off to the side.

“No; it is Toilday.” Qakisst adjusted his seat so that both of his young friends could have at him at will.

“I thought you left for Thistletop yesterday.” Tanjah picked at her food.

“Caleb went out yesterday with Athos and Tessa. They took that Iomedaean warrior we rescued with them.”

“Is there a reason you did not introduce us?”

“Not really. I just did not get a chance to introduce Sapphire before they left yesterday.”

“Oh? You were too busy yesterday or Sunday?”

“No, but I do not control Sapphire’s schedule; and it was abundantly clear after Sunday that I would just cause trouble if I showed up unannounced.”

“You weren’t announced this morning.” Korva interjected angrily.

“I had to come up before I left today.”

“I saw you walking with her yesterday morning down by the Red Dog. You could have come up then.” Tanjah glowered. Qakisst had the pattern now. Tanjah would be the driver while Korva waited in ambush.

“I was dropping off a few things at my cottage across the street; why did you not say hi to us?”

“You looked busy.”

“There you go.”

“Why are you still in town if Caleb went out yesterday? I thought you were best buddies now.”

“I have to pick up some things from Master Gandethus and Master Voon before I go out. Konnor is going out with me as soon as I get everything together this morning.”

“Don’ you think it is dangerous just the two of you going out today?”

“Nope. I am betting good money that if Shalelu is not watching for us, that Caleb will know it and be just over the hill waiting on us.” Qakisst slowly picked at his food, not feeling particularly hungry. “Why? Do you think I need a babysitter, Tanjah?” His voice was soft, but it was easy to hear the annoyance in his tone.

“No! You just…” Tanjah looked away, anger on her face. Silence radiated out from their table.

“I just what?” Qakisst looked coolly at Tanjah out of the corner of his eye.

“You just need to choose your company better.” Korva’s cold voice rolled across the table like distant thunder.

Anger spiked in Qakisst’s heart but he held his tongue long enough to clear the red from his eyes, “Not very charitable of you, Korva. Do you disapprove of the crowd at the Rusty Dragon?”

“Do not be coy with me, Qakisst. You know full well who we are referring too.” Korva glared at him as two of the younger Viskalai children walked up to the table, saw the angry look in their oldest sister’s eyes, and slipped off with their breakfast to find another table in the state room where they would not disturb the warring parties or the customers in the common.

Qakisst set down his knife and fork and turned to Korva, “Can you even say her name?” Korva glared at him. “How about you, Tanjah?” The younger Viskalai girl looked away. “So you are both going to judge her without even bothering to get to know her or talk to her.”

“I did talk to her.” Korva hissed.

“When? Last week out by Junker’s bay as you were both fretting over my fat lip?” Qakisst took a moment to eat a little of his breakfast. “Because I do not think you even bothered to actually talk to her, just at her or at me.”

“What would the point be!?!” Korva growled at Qakisst practically spitting as she struggled to control the volume of her voice.

Qakisst sighed and considered strangling Vach for insisting that he talk to Korva before leaving town again. “The point would be that there is more to a person than their job.”

“Is there?” Tanjah bitterly interjected from behind him. On the inside, Qakisst smiled to himself.

“Are you just a house keeper, Tanjah? Just 13 years old and working at an inn cleaning rooms?”

“This is different!” The indignant Tanjah stood up and shouted, “This is my family’s home!” Korva covered her eyes, even more angry than before as she knew what was coming. Most of the common room was now staring at the corner table.

Qakisst practically whispered, “It sure is nice to have a family Tanjah. I bet Laure wishes she had one.” He pushed back from the table to stand.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tanjah looked confused if still angry.

“It means that she is an orphan, just like me. If you had bothered to pay attention at Turandarok just six years ago you might know that. She was a student with us then.” While speaking to Tanjah Qakisst had clearly intended the comment for Korva; and he could swear that he could hear Korva’s teeth cracking as he stood. “I have to go. I have to see Master Gandethus before I head out to Thistletop this morning and I want to beat all the littles to school or I will be interrupting. I hope to see you both when I get back.”

As he headed towards the door he could hear Tanjah growling at Korva, “Orphan? You didn’t tell me she was an orphan!”

As Qakisst walked out the front door he spotted Garridan, the White Deer’s patron and owner moving siding slats on a cart around the side of the inn. Qakisst waved politely, “Good morning Master Viskalai.”

“If you have time to help, Qakisst do so; otherwise it might be best if you get going.” Garridan hefted a large stack of the lumber and laid it across saw horses against the wall, “I hear that your friends left for Thistletop yesterday.”

Garridan was not rude, but it was clear that he was not happy to see Qakisst today. “I am sorry, Sir. I am already running late and have to see Master Gandethus before the start of school.” Qakisst headed down the street towards Main Street and Turandarok Academy. He felt very small at the moment. He had known that his entanglement with Laure would have a price, but paying it was proving difficult.

It was still early enough that children were only just now coming out for the walk to school. It felt very strange to Qakisst to be walking this road in the morning as he had done for five years. Before he reached Main Street he found himself at the head of a small gaggle of children. As they followed him down Main Street they mumbled to each other until one finally gained a voice, “Mr. Q?”

Qakisst looked back at what seemed to him a 12 year old girl that was walking along with the other children, “Uh, yes?” Her face was vaguely familiar, but five years of growth blunted his recognition.

“Ileosa, Sir.” Ileosa Arabasti? But she had been only a little girl when he had last walked this way.

“Wow, Ile. You got big quick. Where you not just eight years old last week?” Qakisst looked at the young lady walking along surrounded by smaller children as he and Korva had once been. Ileosa giggled.

“I will be 14 before mid-winter.” The young girl blushed. “But um,… would you introduce me to Master Savah?” Qakisst looked puzzled a moment. “I… um, I heard that you passed your guild exams… and well…”

As he continued down the street Qakisst slowed, “Ile, why do you not just have your parents …”

“On no, no Sir.” Ile slowed with Qakisst, “My dad will be mad enough when he finds out that I plan to apply for her apprenticeship. If he finds out before I turn 14 he might try to pack me off to Magnimar or worse.” The young girl fidgeted as the other children filed past her into the school.

“Um, you are going to get me into trouble with your parents, Ile,” Qakisst smiled at the young girl, “but I do not expect he can object too much if I just let Master Savah know that you are interested in an apprenticeship.”

“Mr. Q?” A smaller child he did not recognize tugged at the bottom of Qakisst’s vest as they approached the school. “Can you make more fireworks like you did last week on Chopper’s Island?”

“Pesh, stop it.” Ile flushed red in embarrassment, “I am sorry Mr. Q. My little brother can be a bit impetuous.”

“No, it is okay, Ile.” Qakisst stopped at the school steps to kneel next to the young boy, “Pesh, is it?”

“Peshki, Sir.”

“Mr. Peshki, my name is Qakisst. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Qakisst extended his hand to shake the young boy’s hand and found himself shaking hands with all the younger students that were walking along. Back up the street at the back of the line he saw Tanjah stopped in the middle of the street with her arms crossed. “Sorry Peshki, no fireworks today. But next festival you make sure to check with me again. Okay everybody. I have to see Master Gandethus and you all have class to get to. Shoo, all of you to school.” Qakisst stood up and looked at Ile Arabasti, “I like your brother. He is not afraid of different people. Ile, I will let Savah know that you are interested in an apprenticeship; but you will have to apply to her as an apprentice if you want the job. And any disputes between you and your parents over it are on you. I doubt very much that Savah would be willing to let you just sleep in the back of the workshop like she did me.”

“Oh thank you, Mr. Q.” Ile leaned in and kissed his cheek and hugged him.

“Ile, dur!” The unexpected hug had Qakisst trying to back pedal out of Ile’s arms, “Ile, get off to class with you. And if you learn to pronounce my name correctly I will give a good recommendation to Savah.” As Ile bounced up the steps to Turandarok he followed. Tanjah walked up the steps behind him.

“You are good at that; you know.” Tanjah still seemed angry, but not nearly as much as over breakfast.

“You have class, Tanjah; and I cannot explain everything in the two minutes you have before you are late.”

“You could have tried.”

“I did; to Korva. A week later she announced her opinion to all of Varisia from Magnimar to Riddleport.” Qakisst held up a finger, “No, Tanjah. You do not have time this morning nor do I. There are a lot of things I need to talk about to you and your entire family. Things I have not been ready to speak of before; but not now. Go on little sister.”

“Yes, go to class Tanjah. You do not need a tardy notice on my desk later today.” Tanjah squeaked at the sound of Master Gandethus’ voice behind her, spun and dashed up the stairs. “I look forward to Peshki’s fireworks display next festival day.” Master Gandethus handed Qakisst a bundle of scroll tubes tied together as Qakisst looked up at the open window to classroom four above the entrance. “I will not always have time to make these for you, Mr. Vishtani. I hope you do not find yourself in over your head. A barghest is not something to dismiss lightly from what I know.”

“Yes sir, and thank you.” Qakisst bowed politely, but his one-time magic instructor gripped his hand.

“If word is correct though, I think Master Vishtani is more appropriate.” Gandethus smiled at his one time student.

“I have not set up my own shop yet, so I still prefer just Qakisst sir.”

“Very good, Qakisst. I shall see that young Ms. Ile gets a chance to apply to Master Bevaniky if you think she is willing to endure the hard work. She has not always been willing to endure hard work in school, but book work and body work are two very different things as you well know.” The school headmaster smiled, “Now, you are expected elsewhere and it is nearly eight bells already. I suggest you get moving.”

Qakisst smiled knowing that he would soon have Tanjah on his side as he rushed down Market then Rum Street to Master Voon’s Feathered Serpent. Thought Master Voon was not opened yet, Qakisst had made arrangements the day before to come by early and pick up his scrolls. Qakisst thanked the enigmatic Voon for his work then rushed back to the Dragon. When he slipped into the common room of the Dragon there was nobody there. A quick check of rooms and he found Konnor waiting lazily in his room. The two of them quickly made their way past Qakisst’s cottage, where he picked up his pack and spear, and up to the north gate. Once out, the bickering began.

“I should have just left you and went with the others yesterday.” Konnor groused as he quick marched along sweeping his eyes along the sides of the road.

“You wanted to slink around with Shayliss last night anyway; so do not blame me.” Qakisst pointed an accusatory finger at Konnor.

“You don’t know what I was doing last night.” Konnor blustered indignantly as he pulled on his mask. Maybe he could not wear it in Sandpoint, but he could damned well wear it out here.

“Everybody but Master Vinder knew what you were doing last night. He is just about the only other person in town that does not call his daughter Shameless.”

“Hey, that is my girl you are talking about!” Konnor looked honestly offended; or would have if his face were not covered.

“Like you actually care about Shayliss. If you did you would be trying anything to convince her father of your good intentions and not sneaking her into your room at the Dragon.” Again Qakisst pointed an accusing finger.

“You did not see me sneak anybody into my room!” Konnor pushed Qakisst’s finger away; annoyed at the ongoing accusations.

“That is not a denial, Konnor. She is so blatantly obvious I do not have to have seen. Everybody saw her looking for you at the Dragon the last three nights and Shayliss never gives up. There is already a worn path in the shingles from her sneaking… Hey Shalelu... sneaking out her window at night. If you do not do something about it you are going to start a war in Sandpoint.”

“How did you…?” The voice of Shalelu Andosana came out of the overhanging trees just ahead of them.

“Look, you take care of your business and I will take care of mine. I am not paying for a Kitten.” Konnor smirked at Qakisst.

“His shoulders relaxed.” Qakisst responded to Shalelu before turning back to Konnor. “And if I was paying for a Kitten it would be more respectable than what you are doing, and more honest!” Qakisst stomped the metal butt of his spear against a rock with a clang.

“If there are any goblins within 10 leagues they know your location, boys.” Shalelu seemed annoyed at the constant bickering as much as the noise being made; more annoyed still that the two had seen her.

“I knew you were there, Shalelu. I saw you about five minutes ago.” Konnor smiled.

“Got me beat. I only figured it out watching him. I knew you would be around, but was starting to wonder where you were until his shoulder’s relaxed.”

“And exactly how did you know I would be here?” The comment was more statement than question.

The two young men grinned and looked at her, “The sun came up this morning and Sandpoint was not a burning ruin.” The echo of their two voices rolled up and down the road.

The famous ranger seemed flabbergasted for a long moment as the two boys continued to bicker about Shayliss Vinder as they passed her, “Do not become too comfortable with my presence. I have other obligations.”

Qakisst slipped out of berating Konnor for his relationship into speaking to Shalelu while they continued walking, “That may be true Lady Andosana; but you will not leave until you are sure that Caleb is ready to take your place.” He smiled knowingly,” You have been right behind us at almost every step for the last 10 days; watching over our shoulders; making sure that if he could not handle something that we would be able to as a group. You have been watching us learn from our mistakes and deciding if we are ready to be on our own. That you did not jump in to pull our asses out of the fire in Thistletop shows that you approve at the very least of Caleb, if not all of us.”

“Anything could have happened to me and you would not have known it at all.” Shalelu seemed nonplus at how casual these two young boys seemed.

“That’s a flock of crows up there.” Konnor pointed out to the south over the woods.

“There have been a lot of squirrels all along the road.” Qakisst pointed up and into the trees all around “They seem more annoyed with us than you; but the wild life is acting normal, right? It is not like it was eerily quiet.”

“How would you have known over your own noise?” Shalelu came down out of the trees to keep pace with the two young men.

“Plus the Hinterland Patrol left town just before we did and they turn south just before the Tors about 30 minutes farther up the road from here.” Konnor looked at Qakisst, “Your friend Pavo was with them when they left town.”

“You could tell it was Pavo from a mile away? We only saw them when we left the gatehouse.”

“He’s the only left handed guardsman I know and his sword was slung to the right.”

“Oh yeah. I had not ever noticed.” Qakisst looked thoughtful for a second, “So really, anybody waiting to ambush us would have had to have known that we were leaving separately from the group, known why we waited a day so that they could plan for us, and known that I would not be able to leave town until I picked up scrolls from Master Voon at just a little after eight bells this morning.”

“Which is right after the morning patrol leaves to run circuit around the Hinters. Then they would have had to lay in hiding so that the watch did not notice them without you finding them also.”

“It is possible that they could do so and know all that, but what would the point be? And you know an awful lot about the city watch.” Qakisst looked at Konnor with a questioning eye before continuing, “Plus how many sun worshiping morning people become bad guys? Most criminals sleep late; which explains why I had to wake you up.”

“Hey!”

“That is all you were holding your safety to? Hunches, wishes for good fortune, and the belief that bad people sleep late?” Shalelu blinked in disbelief.

“Oh, and Caleb said that you planned to stick around the North Coast Road until we finished clearing Thistletop.” Qakisst added in with what he thought was a thoughtful look. “Considering that we have killed near to a hundred goblins this month alone there is not much out here to ambush us on the main road.”

“And Qakisst told the guard when we left town to watch for fireworks as an emergency signal.”

“I can clear a snapdragon to nearly four hundred cubits now. High enough to be seen from Sandpoint all the way to Thistletop. Our biggest worry was always how long we can last if we are attacked. If it is a force big enough that we could not handle it, the guard should have seen it or you would have. And if you could not handle it; what good would having a few underpaid guards do?”

“They are called ambushes for a reason, boys.” Shalelu was determined that the two young men see some reason, yet they argued on without enough care in her mind.

“And if there had been an ambush why wait until this morning? They would have jumped Caleb yesterday and we would all feel rotten as hell right now. I did not tell them to go out early. I told Caleb that I needed until this morning. He said to meet him on the road at the Nettles where you found the path into Thistletop.”

“Then the others all decided to follow him out into the woods to camp. Chew Caleb out, not us.” Konnor grinned at Shalelu, not that anybody could see it now that he had put his mask back on.

“Why are you wearing that stupid mask again? It is not like nobody knows who you are.”

“You don’ know that.”

“Blessed Desna, can both of you just shut up?”

“Then there are the main caravans. They pass this way on Oathdays and Stardays. Why jump two skinny kids when you can jump a caravan?”

Shalelu took back to observing the bickering pair from the trees as they approached the Nettles. Part of her still wanted to scream at the two boys to take this duty seriously; and yet they had been right to a certain degree. Inside the patrol areas of Sandpoint people did in fact walk these roads all the time. Ambushes were rare and now that Thistletop had been cleared of goblins the area would likely be trouble free for months. Still, this was exactly how evil crept into good places. Due to complacency.

The Exchange

I like to write the combat portions of the story from the point of view of the front line fighters. As much as Qakisst would like to be a front line fighter, he just is not one yet.

Burnt Offerings: Malfeshnikor:

Caleb spotted the two young men shortly after they passed the south road along the Tors. The pair were silent as they walked. It took them less than 20 more minutes to reach the camp where Athos, Sapphire, and Tessa waited for them. Caleb had spent the morning carefully patrolling around the roads nearby to make sure that nothing ambushed the camp or his two friends with their late arrival. When he finally spotted Shalelu trailing them from the canopy he thought she looked rather annoyed. As she passed his hiding place just off the road she spoke quietly without acknowledging him, “I thought they would never shut up.”

Caleb whispered in reply, “Not everybody is the strong silent type.” He quietly moved under the canopy towards camp listening to the almost imperceptible sounds of Shalelu above him.

“They did not just talk, they argued over stupid things for the better part of an hour just to hear themselves.” The famed elven archer lowered herself by the climbing hook on her specialized longbow.

“They’re just blowing of steam the only way they know how.” Caleb moved out of the brush quietly onto the road, “And they had enough sense to be quiet once they passed the patrol range of Sandpoint. You just don’t like kids.”

“They are definitely that; wearing masks and playing with fire. They are like adolescent goblins at times.” Shalelu rolled her eyes at Caleb as the two joined the camp.

“I told you Caleb would be watching for us.” Qakisst smiled as he saw Shalelu and Caleb enter the camp.

“He’s all yours.” Shalelu’s whispered voice barely tickled Caleb’s ear as he smiled.

After a brief discussion on their plan to deal with Malfeshnekor the six fledgling heroes gathered their equipment and moved into the dark Nettle Woods while Shalelu ascended up into the thick canopy to patrol for any goblin reinforcements to the now defunct Thistletop Tribe. Before the sun reached midday the party passed through the druid formed brambles and crossed the bridge to Thistletop. The place seemed eerily quiet. With care Konnor checked the ropes that secured the bridge into place on the island side before they moved into the main building to find it as they had left it. A quick check for new tracks showed that no additional goblins had slipped in overnight; so the party descended into the bowels of the ancient complex under the goblin fortress.

The silence disturbed Caleb. He much preferred the silent noise of the forest to the dead calm of these tunnels. As they moved through the tunnels and down the stairs he noted that Konnor and Qakisst were still sniping at each other quietly. He would have to ask Shalelu more about the two’s walk from Sandpoint. Caleb shushed the two as Qakisst made a snide comment about Shayliss. “Enough, both of you. I’ll make you both go sit with Shalelu and she’s ready to gag you both.”

The party approached the bizarre coin operated entrance to the hidden interior of the Thassilonian complex where Malfeshnekor was locked away. Quietly they entered the outer room and paused to allow Qakisst to cast a few preparatory spells on himself and others; boosting Athos and Sapphire’s strength, using the scroll with the spell to see invisible creatures. The party then readied itself as Konnor took out the strange seven pointed key and slowly, quietly unlocked the door. He opened it and again; there was nothing there.

“Back left corner! He is crouched in the back left corner!” Qakisst cried out as Tessa threw a bomb across the threshold into the corner. Qakisst then tapped Caleb on the shoulder while mumbling arcane words as Athos and Konnor ducked into the room to disappear from sight behind the demonic illusion. “It moved right! It is in the right corner now!”

Sapphire leapt through the room; disappearing as well, but Caleb heard her call out to Iomedae to destroy the evil before her. Malfeshnekor howled in rage and pain from beyond the illusory veil.

Caleb and Qakisst pushed into the room now, as Tessa readied another explosive vile of chemicals. Malfeshnekor mumbled some words in magic, thenexplosive vials began flying into the room without rhyme or reason.

“Oh sweet Desna, where are you my friend?” Caleb ducked a flying glass vial as Tessa seemed to be unloading her entire arsenal; as though she did not know who to help.

Athos cursed the burning chemistry that rolled off his armor, “That hurt, Tessa!” He shifted to get out of the way of Tessa’s explosive weaponry and slashed at Malfeshnekor with his enchanted blade. Caleb helped Konnor pin the demonic beast into the corner and pressed their attack as Sapphire rained heavenly pain upon the demonic beast.

Qakisst stepped into the flaming pit to block the demon’s only exit from the corner without hesitation; which gave Caleb a start. As the young ifrit stabbed at Malfeshnekor with his spear he bellowed back to Tessa, “Tessa, he is in the back corner!” She was still flinging bombs without any clue where anybody was.

Caleb had little time to marvel at his friends growing fire resistance as Malfeshnekor both cursed and begged for help; but not mercy. The beast received neither. The confusion of the concealing illusion and charm had left Tessa unable to act effectively, but his magically enhanced might along with Sapphire and Athos quickly ended the existence of this threat to Sandpoint. Panting, Qakisst stepped out of the fire pit and brushed away the flames. Caleb was stunned that the flames had not even damaged his clothes. It was as if the boy were brushing water off after coming in out of the rain.

“Can anything burn you now, cousin?” Caleb slapped Qakisst on the shoulder as he moved to help the others search the room.

Tessa seemed to be stunned or in shock as the magic Malfeshnekor had used to befuddle her mind broke with the creature’s death. As Sapphire moved to check on the tattooed alchemist; Athos and Konnor announced that they had found something; a few hidden cabinets that they opened to find a small silver coffer and a ring. Qakisst examined the ring with his othersight. “Yeah, this one glows. Some kind of abjuration.” He then paused and looked around him. “Hey!” Qakisst looked as if he had been slapped in the back of the head. “The candles glow too!”

“Duh, they’re candles.” Konnor rolled his eyes behind his mask.

“That have been burning for probably thousands of years.” Qakisst stepped up to one of the massive candle holders covered in the small candles. “There’s no heat from them. Caleb, look at this.”

Upon hearing Qakisst’s comment Caleb ran his finger above the candles then through one of the flames to find no heat. “Well I’ll be. Sitting right in front of us and nobody would even look. What do you think they’re worth, Kisst?” Caleb smiled as the realization that this light must be magical in nature; and the 60 little candles were quickly swept into a bag along with the silver coffer and the magical ring.

“Do not know. Maybe 20. Hard to say since I have not seen everburning flames this small.” Qakisst seemed to marvel at one of the candles as Caleb turned to depart the bizarre prison chamber.

“I always expected treasure to include actual coins, or at least some high quality spirits.” Konnor groused as they moved back out of the antechamber and turned up the hall to the tomb chamber where they had seen shadows moving unnaturally. ‘I mean, the entrance practically screams gold coin.”

Caleb marveled that their fight with Malfeshnekor had been so surprisingly quick. According to Qakisst; the magics enhancing him, Athos, and Sapphire were still in effect. As the young ifrit pulled out more scrolls they approached the far door to the crypt room; and the shadows. Konnor moved the door to the crypt room aside as Caleb readied himself. The party saw strange movement within the shadows of the room and moved. Caleb rushed into the room to the left with Sapphire as Konnor and Athos moved right. He could hear Tessa and Qakisst following them as a vile of blessed water hurled past him to strike a wall next to one of the unnatural shadowed creatures. The creature yowled as holy water sprayed it from Tessa’s attack.

The shadows moved of their own accord, struggling to dodge the burning touch of blessed waters. They screamed as though burned. The unnerving howl shook him as the darkness itself lashed out at Caleb and Sapphire. Three damned spirits of darkness erupted to strike directly at the life-force of those they struck. But the party had come prepared for just this. The previous week they had seen the shadows of this room and had brought holy water and enchanted their weapons so that they could touch the dark spirits. The dark spirits fell quickly and the party moved beyond the crypt into the corridor beyond. Caleb smiled as he thought, ‘a little preparation can go such a long way.’

The hallway at this point seemed to slope slightly downward as it split into two passages. The first passage turned right and descended a slightly canted set of stairs to a short hall and a door. The original passage continued a ways then turned right and descended to an even lower staircase and door.

Caleb directed Konnor to check this first corridor and stairway. At the bottom they found a doorway into a long narrow room that tipped to the left and descended into a dark pool of water. Down in the water they could see the glitter of coin, and a giant golden helm so large Tessa could have curled up inside it. The group bickered a moment over what to do. Over Caleb’s objection, Qakisst finally won out by pointing out that his armor was weightless and magical, while even Konnor’s chain shirt would drag him down if the water was deeper than it looked. Caleb did not like this, but Qakisst insisted that he would just ease into the water with a grapnel and hook the helm so they could pull it out. As Qakisst wrapped the rope around his arm and gripped the hook Caleb nodded that they were ready. As the young ifrit eased into the surprisingly clean and clear water slowly pointing his spear forward; Caleb helped Athos and Sapphire anchor the rope. When the gigantic helm shifted and turned Caleb nearly yanked his friend back by reflex.

Qakisst stopped still in front of them, looking intently at the open face of the helm. “I see eyes. Is that a crab?” Massive claws bigger than a man’s arm thrust out from under the helm as Qakisst stabbed his spear at the eye slot to the helm; but the spear point glanced of the golden armor piece. The massive claws of the monstrous hermit crab stretched out and snapped shut around Qakisst locking him in a death grip.

“Shit!” Caleb rushed forward pulling his scimitar out to slash at the armored crustacean.

“Q!?!” Athos moved with him to stab at the heavily armored crustacean standing in nearly waste deep water. Konnor tried to leap over the beast to flank it but found himself knocked into the deeper water by a flailing claw. The heavy golden helm blunted any effort to attack the monstrous crab hiding within.

“GAHHHHHHH!!!” Qakisst screamed in pain while the crab seizing Athos in the other claw. Konnor floundered in the water behind it trying to find his feet and Tessa cursed unable to do anything without doing more harm than good. Caleb heard praying and realized that Sapphire, unable to get past the others in the narrow room had grabbed Qakisst to prevent him being pulled under. “Ahhhh, that hurts!!” Sapphire’s hands glowed with healing magic as she pulled at Qakisst. As he tried to find some way to stab at the creature, Caleb saw that both Qakisst and Athos where desperately trying to strike the creature as well. Suddenly the commotion stopped. The crab quit fighting and its claws dropped to the water. Caleb could hear Qakisst suck in air as he staggered back.

The crushing grip of the dead creature released and Athos staggered back as Qakisst nearly fell to his knees. “What in the abyss was that thing!?!” Sapphire bellowed. “Hey; hey are you okay, Qwakiss?”

Slowly Konnor stood, pulling his short finely crafted wakizashi from under the back of the golden helmet and up into the crab. “It’s not the size, it’s the technique.” Gore dripped from the Tian style weapon and Caleb could swear he could see Konnor grinning through his mask.

Caleb turned away from Konnor and the now dead crustacean to find Qakisst and Sapphire lip locked. Sapphire looked somewhat startled. This was interesting, Caleb thought as Qakisst stepped back from Sapphire then fell to his knees.

“Why does healing magic have to hurt so much?” Qakisst gasped for air as he knelt in the cold water up to his chest gripping his ribs with his right arm and leaning on his left.

“Nice kiss. Do you say thank you like that all the time?” Caleb watched Sapphire run her fingers through Qakisst’s hair as her hand glowed with healing magics. As Qakisst struggled to get back to his feet she smiled at him. “Because a lady could get used to that.”

“Sorry.” Qakisst looked at her sheepishly from under his horns. “I thought I was going to die there.”

“Don’t worry, kid. I won’t tell your girlfriend.” Sapphire smiled at him and helped him back to his feet.

“Are you okay, Kisst?” Caleb gripped Qakisst’s arm as his longtime friend looked back at Sapphire.

“I am not sure. She might approve.” Qakisst’s face flushed as he said it; leading Caleb to believe that the reply was for Sapphire and not himself.

“Yeah, you’re okay.” Caleb patted Qakisst on the back as he moved to help Athos pull the still helmed crab up onto the dry floor next to the door.

“Ha! You wish.” Tessa snorted at Qakisst while she poked and prodded the still bleeding crustacean inside the giant gold helmet.

After a short effort to clean up any additional trinkets that could be reached the party found themselves with a considerable amount of coin and a large number of small gemstones, and a shell shaped amulet that Qakisst said glowed to his othersight. “Now that’s more like it.” Konnor packed coins into his pack and helped others pack theirs.

Searching deeper into the water showed that there was a tunnel deep under the surface but the current under the water was too strong. Tessa refused to let Qakisst check further until he had caught his breath; so Konnor stripped his chain shirt to wade in a little deeper; with the rope tied to his waist. When Konnor was nearly sucked into the darkness by the current Caleb called a halt to the expedition. Realizing that this was a dead end the party checked the last passage under the ancient Thassilonian complex. They found a back door into the same pool chamber that they had just searched. With no place left to search, Caleb looked around at the party, “Let’s get out of here.

The Exchange

I have always intended that Qakisst will eventually take up the Eldritch Knight but could not decide on a combat class to have him take. Nothing quite fit what I wanted to do. Then the GM pointed out to me that Metal Oracles can gain proficiency with all martial weapons as one of their revelations. BOOM, I knew what class Qakisst would be taking and the explanation to his stutter when he is nervous came into focus. But what tips a powerful young sorcerer over into taking levels in a divine class? How to work it into good game play and make it an organic part of the story?

Burnt Offerings: Bunyip Bate:

Moving the nearly 35 stone gold and bronze helm out of the maze proved the most difficult. Mostly because the crab was still inside it, but Caleb insisted they take it back to Sandpoint to celebrate their success. After over an hour the six managed to move all of their treasure out to the bramble when Konnor quipped, “What about the bunyip?”

“Don’ know? Can we even get down there?” Athos looked at the hole in the middle of the tunnels through the bramble down into a sea side cave under Gogmurt’s bramble maze. When they had first invaded the maze the party had found the hole in the middle and heard a terrifying howl from the cave underneath. After a time Caleb had figured out that the cave was home to a bunyip that Gogmurt had likely used to terrorize the other goblins.

“There could be treasure down there.” Konnor looked at Athos and Qakisst.

“It is a goblin scrap hole. What treasure are we going to find down there?” Qakisst looked dubiously at Konnor while holding his ribs.

“It is possible.” Caleb looked quizzically, “Gogmurt could have driven some invaders into the hole and not had a chance to check out their equipment.

“All right. How do we get down there?” Qakisst looked around questioningly.

“We dangle Konnor on a rope with a grapnel at the end.” Tessa stepped up and smiled. “Always bate your hook.”

“Wait, what?” Konnor looked startled.

“It was your idea. Just make sure to set the hook if the bunyip bites you.” She smiled at him as she pulled the rope and hook from Konnor’s pack.

The party decided to give Caleb the first look down the deep hole despite Tessa’s insistence that Konnor had volunteered. The party slowly lowered Caleb down into the hole with an ever-burning torch. He could see the glint of the light on the water, and spied the seal-like bunyip sleeping on the sandy shoal inside the cave, but could see nothing else on the sand or under the water. He could see out the cave entrance to the open sea to the north. He signaled the party to pull him up.

“I cannot see anything. It is just too dark.” Caleb worked the rope harness off as the entire party turned to Qakisst.

“What?”

“How well can you swim?” Athos looked at Qakisst.

“What!?!”

“Swim, cousin. Can you do it?” Caleb held up the rope harness. “If there is anything down there it is in the dark under the water.”

“We should just leave it be.” Qakisst looked slightly pale as the others moved to fit the rope harness to him.

“Don’t wimp out, kid. You can do this.” Sapphire winked at Qakisst.

“No way. Not even if you do more than kiss me back.” Qakisst backed up until his horns brushed the sloping bramble canopy.

“Don’ be a wimp, Qakisst. There is something down there. I can feel it.” Athos held up the rope harness, “We will pull you up. Don’ worry.”

“But…”

“Come on, Kisst. Just a look with your night sight you always brag about.” Caleb grinned at him.

“Tessa has night sight too, you would not ask her to go down there alone.”

“Not that I would not mind a look; but dangling from 60 cubit of rope is not my idea of fun.” Tessa leaned over the hole looking down into the mostly dark cavern.

“Tessa does not have othersight, cousin.”

“As I said, I would not do it anyway.” Wind whipped Tessa’s hair.

“You will not let me forget it if I do not do this, will you?” Qakisst glared at Caleb. Tessa rolled her eyes in the background.

“Nope.” Four voices rolled over him as Tessa walked out to look around the bridge; a disgusted look on her face. Moments later the party lowered Qakisst down into the cave as his eyes shifted into dark sight.

Qakisst had never been more scared; which said a lot. He’d seen giants, ghosts, shadows, even demons; but he had not been hanging over 50 cubits in the air above a tidal pool inside a cave where a creature that was a grotesque combination of a shark and a seal lurked hungrily. Sweat began to bead on his brow as his four insistent companions lowered him into the dark cavern.

It was the helplessness that terrified him. Dangling above the water in the makeshift harness Qakisst found it difficult to breath. His ribs were still very bruised and painful where the oversized hermit crab had tried to crush him; and the ropes did nothing to help. The pain brought the world back into sharp focus and he looked about to find the bunyip. ‘There! On the shore sleeping.’ It looked almost cute curled up in the sand, but the crushed bones of goblins and other creatures scattered about reminded Qakisst of exactly how dangerous Master Quink had said these creatures could be. As he slowly descended, Qakisst stared at the sleeping beast. It yawned and rolled away from him.

Shaking his head Qakisst unfocused his eyes and peered into the darkness about him. The occasional glint of metal, but nothing like gold or silver showed in the sand and rock under the water. Seeing nothing worth swimming for, he unfocused his eyes and shifted into othersight. The world around him grew dark from the lack of magical energies; except for a faint glow to his right deep under the water. Qakisst cursed silently because Athos was right. There was something down there.

Looking back at the sleeping bunyip Qakisst quietly took in several quick breaths and signaled the others above him to lower him into the water. He wrapped a leather strap around his arm and his spear to prevent dropping it and sank into the cold water. The salty ocean water was a terrible shock as Qakisst submerged. He managed one last deep breath before the water rolled over him and dove for the bottom, looking in othersight for the faint glow he had seen. It was farther to his right than expected so he pushed that way only to have the steadily surging tides shove him past it. He focused on the faint glow and sank to the sea floor where he could grip the rocks and pull himself along. His lungs began to burn and his ribs ached from the effort to hold his breath but he finally reached it.

‘A bone?’ What looked like a finely carved bone shaft extended from the rock and sand. Qakisst carefully gripped it, almost afraid that it might suddenly come to life. It slipped easily from the sand revealing a long thin knuckle jointed wand. For a brief moment he marveled at it, until pain jolted him as his lungs struggled for breath. Qakisst pushed away from the rock with his spear and tucked the wand into his haramaki while struggling to find up. Everything looked the same in the darkness and in a panic he grabbed for the rope and yanked hard. For a brief moment light filled his eyes and he breathed in deeply in pain. Too soon.

Qakisst walked along the grand boulevard of a great city. Mountains surrounded the city in the distance, topped by clouds. This place looked familiar, yet different. It took a moment to realize that this was not his dream city in the clouds. This place was different. Strange people walked the streets in stranger clothes; some covered in rune-script very similar to that used by the Varisi. He could not understand their speech as they walked around him without concern. One of them stopped in front of him and looked up. There was a shout, then screaming, and panic. Qakisst turned to look behind him and saw a fire in the sky that dwarfed the sun. A strangely familiar warm voice spoke into his heart even as the sky burned, “No; not yet my friend. This is not your time or place. You do not belong in the past; and I have need of you in the here and now.” AIR!!!

When he woke he found himself hanging nearly 60 cubits above the water coughing in terrible pain as his cracked ribs struggled to expel from his lungs the water he had sucked in. Tears streamed from his salt stung eyes and his spear hung from the leather strap on his arm. He could still hear the whispering voice telling him it was not yet his time. He knew that voice, but he did not know how he knew it; or from where. He was slowly ascending into the light of the bramble where he was greeted by worried looks from his friends.

“Hey! Qakisst! Hey! Cousin, are you okay?” Caleb gripped his arm and pulled him out from over the hole and to his feet.

Still coughing water, Qakisst struggled to his feet, “T… cough… tek… cough… tekrar… uwuuugghh… tekrar yapmam… kahhhh… yapmamak.” Steam began to boil off of his skin as his inner fire fought back against the wet chill.

“Sweet Desna! Are you okay, Qakisst?” Athos looked honestly scared. “The way you started thrashing under water we really freaked out. We thought the bunyip got you.” Athos coiled up the rope as Konnor and Sapphire helped him out of the harness and to his feet.

Qakisst glared at them all while Konnor and Sapphire struggled with the wet rope harness, “You all damn near drowned me for this.” He held up the knucklebone wand while still shivering from the cold. His skin was already dry, but his wet cloths continued to suck the heat from his body.

“What is it?” Caleb looked dubiously at the macabre looking object. “I hope we didn’ put you through all that for nothing.”

“It is the bunyip’s middle finger and he is giving it to you.” Tessa strolled back in from the sea side overlook. She looked at Qakisst with concern, “You are not going back down; got it?”

Still wheezing, “No way.” Qakisst unfocused his eyes and carefully examined the arcane object in his hands while sitting on the hard rock surface of the bramble. “I think,… uhggg,…” gripping his sides still, “It is a wand. Abjuration of some kind.” Qakisst spit out more salt water, “Oh. Oh yes. HAHahahaahhahaaa!” He jumped up flourishing the strange wand singing in Varisi.

“I think he’s in love?” Sapphire looked at Qakisst in bewilderment.

“You have not gone all loopy on us, have you Q?” Athos gripped Qakisst’s shoulder in concern. Qakisst spun around towards him and looked set to hug him, but the big Shoanti held him at bay with an outstretched arm.

“It is a shield spell!”

“Nice.” Konnor reached for the wand but Qakisst yanked it back.

“Mine!” Qakisst grinned at him.

“Wait; that is a spell?” Athos stared curiously at the wand in Qakisst’s hand.

“You have seen me use the ivory wand that we took off of Lyre. The one that shoots balls of force.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That is a spell, locked up inside the wand. This one holds a shield spell.” Qakisst held up the knucklebone wand with a smile. “It should last me weeks to months depending on how many charges it has left.”

“Hope it was worth nearly getting killed over. Can we get out of here before it gets dark? It’s still a two hour walk to get out of the woods with all this junk and at least another hour back to town. It must be nearly five bells already and on Toildays Ameiko makes that wonderful fish with spices and turnips.” At Tessa’s comment on food everyone’s stomach grumbled as one.

“Yeah, let’s get moving.” Caleb looked around the bramble one last time as they all exited the thicket.

The Exchange

This pretty much brings us to the end of Burnt Offering. We had another game session of clean up as our friend Sam went off to get married and enjoy her honeymoon. Game groups change with time.

There is one more chapter after this that doesn't quite fit into the journal as there are a few days of the party's life to cover before Laranys departs for Absalom; but I'll get to that shortly.

Burnt Offerings: Back to the Dragon:

Shalelu was flabbergasted when the six of them emerged from the woods dragging the giant gold and bronze helm still holding the dead crab. The party used a pair of branches and their rope to fashion a litter to carry the heavy metal artifact and Qakisst boosted Athos’ strength so that he could drag it back to town. It was late enough when they returned to Sandpoint that there was no great fanfare awaiting them this time. Qakisst found himself both relieved and disappointed. As the party passed the White Deer Inn, he made it a point to stick his head in the door and wave at one of the younger Viskalai children.

“Hey Bezsh, tell your Mom and Korva that I am back in town already. I will stop up to say hi to everybody tomorrow.”

The young Shoanti gripped his arm, “Stay!”

“Sorry Bezsh. I got to help put away all the stuff we found. I will tell you about it tomorrow.” Qakisst pulled his arm from the youngest Viskalai’s grip and moved to duck out the door. Behind the tavern style counter he spied Tanjah working and waved at her while mouthing the word ‘sorry’ to her. He quickly rushed to catch the others and led them down to his cottage.

Qakisst half expected Tanjah to come after him, but she did not. The party stored everything in his smallish inner sitting room and he locked the doors. Then both tired and hungry they trudged into the Rusty Dragon to beg food. Normally the group would stroll up through the main entrance on Market street, but their last bit of cargo diverted them to the back door. When one of the cooking staff responded to the loud rapping noise on the back door she was a bit taken back.

“Hey Miwan, what can the cooks manage with a 10 stone crab?” Caleb grinned.

“Are you serious, Master Deverin?” Miwan looked into the now bundled pack at the massive creature. “Um? Let me find Ameiko and ask. Please wait here.” Miwan ducked back into the kitchen entrance and mere seconds later the Lady Kaijitsu opened the door.

“Well what have we here?” As Ameiko stepped into the loading area Qakisst’s stomach did flips and he turned away. “I did not take you for a fisherman, Caleb.

“Sometimes they just jump in the boat, Ameiko.” Caleb’s hands spoke along with him.

“I do not remember a boat when that thing was crushing the life out of you.” Tessa nudged Qakisst.

“Oh, this sounds like an interesting story.” Ameiko turned to look back into the doorway, “Miwan, make sure this is packed into the ice room tonight to be cleaned and boiled tomorrow. It will not keep long.” She smiled at the party, “You will be telling us all about it once you’re fed, won’t you? Hurry around front and I will have Bethana clear a table for you. You look starved. Especially you.” Ameiko poked Qakisst from behind and he grimaced in pain.

“Ple… please m’Lady. Sti… Still a little tend… tender from that cra… crab.” Qakisst gripped his ribs and turned to face her.

“Mr. Vishtani, surely you have enough pull to get that healed before you tell me how you came by those bruises.” She winked at him. “I expect to hear it all soon. Now shoo, get to the front before Bethana gives your food away.” Ameiko ducked back into the kitchen doorway and began giving directions for tomorrow’s meal as the party headed around to the front entrance.

“Do you always stutter like that around Lady Ameiko?” Sapphire looked at Qakisst through squinted eyes.

“Hey, yeah. You do stutter around Ameiko.” Caleb looked at Qakisst and a light dawned in his eyes. Qakisst glared at him.

“I do not stutter.”

“Actually you do.” Athos smirked at Qakisst.

“Wipe that smirk off all of your faces or I blow you all up in your sleep.” Tessa stomped ahead of the party and around the corner.

“What was that all about?” Konnor looked after Tessa as she stormed ahead.

“You all killed my best friend, Malfie!!!” The doors to the dragon blew open unaided and Tessa thundered in.

The others paused in the doorway as Qakisst squeezed between them to catch up to Tessa. Ameiko had directed Bethana to clear their regular table and two of the serving girls were setting plates of food to the table as they entered. “Malfie?” Qakisst slipped into a seat across from Tessa.

“He was such a dear. All he wanted was to run free through the fields bopping field mice on the head.” Tessa gave a tearful look at Qakisst and winked at him as the rest of the party piled up to the table. “Well, maybe field workers. He was not very clear about that.”

Qakisst looked down and whispered the little message spell, a tear streaking down his left cheek. A light wind brushed past Tessa’s ear as he did so, “Thank you.”

“Tessa, you are weird.” Konnor shook his head.

“Oh look, it’s the sheriff looking for a masked man!” Tessa looked over Konnor’s shoulder as he quickly jerked the mask off and stored it. “No, my mistake, it is only old man Vinder glaring in the window.”

Konnor jerked his head about to look out the window. “Who!?!”

Tessa turned her attention to her food. “Aw, sandwiches? I guess we were too late for the spiced fish.” Qakisst grinned into his plate as Tessa spoke.

Before too long Ameiko appeared at the table standing behind Athos and demanded to know the story about the giant crab. But Qakisst had already slipped from the inn and headed home to his cottage. Caleb and Athos begged her forgiveness, claiming that the story must be told tomorrow at dinner where the guest of honor could be saluted properly before being eaten as is his just reward.

The Exchange

A little more of Qakisst's past comes out; and I have managed to turn the Viskalai family into something huge. I believe they're up to 8 kids now; or is it only 7?

Interlude: Born to Serve:

The sun was bright, joyously warm in the sky as he walked through the flower filled garden. Qakisst could not remember when the sun had looked more beautiful to him. His mother had always warned him not to look to closely or long into its light, so he did not stare; but Qakisst could not believe that the Dawnflower would hurt him. He could hear her singing more loudly and vibrant than ever before. The song of fire washed over his senses as it always had. His whole life he had been able to hear the calling of the sun. Even at night he could hear it distantly; a warm promise that she would never abandon him. And she never had.

Oh he had felt cold and distant at times when truly bad things had happened. Qakisst shuddered at the thought of those few times he had felt honestly cold in his heart. Getting caught in the late winter storm with his birth Mother had numbed his body, but until Sssastiss had actually died he had still felt the warmth in his heart. It had taken days to feel anything after that but in hind sight he knew that he could hear her even then. When his heart-Mother, Liandra, had died at the hands of the Chopper he had felt cold and barren inside for a month. Yet each day, despite his anger, he had heard the morning call to him in the Dawnflower’s voice. Even as angry as he had been, as betrayed as he had felt, he could not deny the gentile and loving voice of the Dawnflower singing to his heart. He knew that she was as devastated and hurt by his loss as he had been; even more so as his loss was on top of hers.

Only when he and his friends had learned the truth about Simon Korvut had he felt so numb that he couldn’t even hear her voice faintly in the night. Qakisst had been so scared that when he had left the White Deer that evening he had gone to find Laure Vieskin. He had not known exactly why. He only knew that she had once been an acolyte and that she would not turn him away. He knew she would understand such things as he could not. Yet he could not talk when he finally got her alone where he had thought to open up about what they had found on Chopper’s Island. Instead he had embraced her in desperation. He had been so cold inside and she had felt so warm.

In his memories that night with Laure had been something special. Not because of some imagined bond of love between two people; but because of a very real bond between two people in need. Qakisst had needed desperately to feel in the flesh the love he could not feel in his heart right then. Laure had desperately needed to help somebody she cared for in their distress. She had been honestly scared for him and he knew it. Strangely, even as he knew he was going to break her heart just a little someday; Qakisst knew now that she would always be his friend. He desperately wanted her to be happy even though he knew he would never really be the one that made her happy. Nor would she ever be the one that made him happy. But he knew that they would be happy for each other. It felt like a strange revelation to know this; and in knowing it he knew that he had not lost his way even though he felt completely lost inside.

“Bright lady, please forgive us a little fun for a short while. I am feeling a little lost though. Dawnflower, I have lost my shoes and only Desna knows where they’ve gone. I cannot see their tracks to follow them.” Qakisst looked up into the blue of a warm afternoon sky. The beautiful sun shone just above him where it spoke to him.

“My dear Hearth-Heart; your sandals are firmly upon your feet where you stand, or right under your bed where you place them each night. You simply cannot see them when your feet are in the way.” The sun smiled at Qakisst and he blushed.

“But I am being called to fight and I am not a fighter. I do not know how. I do not even know if this is the path I should take. I feel the fire in my heart that commands me to action, but I have the instincts of a warrior to rush in where bigger and braver men give pause.” Qakisst’s eyes looked haunted, “I fear that I will fail you because I have chosen the wrong path.”

“Silly child, all paths lead to redemption or perdition depending on what is in your heart, not what is in your hand. You must trust that I will provide when you need me.” The sun’s warmth caressed his cheek.

“I do not understand.”

“If your heart calls you to action, I will give you the tools you need to take action so long as your actions remain just and your heart remains honest and true. You carry my light in you, Hearth-Heart, even when you do not realize it.” The sun rose high into the sky as it spoke to him. “You will forge a great destiny Qakisst Mimnani. You will be true to your friends, and your loves. You will have time for joy too, but there is darkness coming and you must be my light against the darkness.”

“I am afraid, Goddess. I am afraid that I am not good enough.” The sun paused in its motions to shine upon him.

“You have always heard the calling of my voice, Hearth-Heart. Only those who are good enough or devout enough can always hear my voice.” The light brightened slowly even as it resumed rising into the sky, “Even when you doubt yourself, you do not doubt my love. Listen to the song in your heart, my child. It will guide you, even as it speaks through you.” The sun continued to drift across a beautiful morning sky; smiling, “You are looking a little worn though Hearth-Heart. Why have you not healed yourself?” Qakisst sighed in the bright sunshine. He had not realized that his beautiful vestments were tattered and torn where his waking self had been wounded recently.

“I do not understand why you would say that, m’Lady? I could go to a cleric, but that costs coin and I am not in danger. I do not wish to be wasteful of other people’s gifts.” Qakisst strolled across the grand garden in the great dreaming city following the sun. “I appreciate your concern for me blessed Dawnflower, but there are others that really need help; I will be okay.”

“You have no need of going to a cleric; I am just so used to you being happy when you are here in the dreaming, child. You come so rarely anymore, and I have come to wonder why you dream in the voice of mortal man. In your youth you dreamed with a voice of fire.” The shining light above Qakisst drifted on great wings of perfect white. “I have so many things to teach, but you must learn to clear your mind of mortal thoughts in order to learn them.”

Confusion crossed Qakisst’s brow, “I do not understand. I try to think like my friends so that it is easier to understand them. I want to make friends, be normal. I love you, Goddess; but I am a mortal man. It hurts to be so different from everybody else.” Qakisst looked away from the sun out across the grand garden towards the great city. “Even Sapphire will grow up and grow old alongside the rest of humanity. Why must I live endlessly as everybody I know passes on to the next world?” Qakisst wiped a tear from his eye as he wrapped his arms tight to himself. “I am scared, Dawnflower. I can barely keep up with my friends now, and someday soon I will be just a child to them as they are raising families and looking to be grandparents. When they are gone, I will still be a young man walking with their great-grandchildren.”

“Oh my precious Hearth-Heart; think about how comforted your friends will be to know that you are here to look out for their children and grandchildren when they are gone.” The Goddess descended out of the sun to walk beside him in the garden. Her light dimmed perceptibly to protect the garden even as the sun itself continued to rise in the distance. “Someday you may be a beloved advisor to your friends’ grandchildren and great grandchildren.”

“But I will be alone in the waking world.” Despair tainted Qakisst’s voice.

“Spend a day with the help of your friends and I think you will see that this is not true. Now be a good boy and greet me like you should this morning.” The Goddess returned to her place with the sun in the sky and smiled brightly upon him. “It is morning, my friend.”

Qakisst’s eyes opened slowly in the darkness of his room. He felt warm but lonely. The night before had been too short after the walk back from Thistletop and he could hear the sun calling already. The bed was empty except for himself and Qakisst was starting to realize that he did not like that. “You are turning into a selfish bastard.” He turned his feet over the edge of the bed and sat up; his feet had landed squarely in his sandals. The hard wooden floor was cold with the touch of an early frost and he was glad for the simple shoes. He cast the little cantrips that cleaned the last grime of yesterday from himself and his gear; then set the little conjured magics to cleaning the room around him as he walked into his kitchen. “I think my dreams are really getting weird. I wonder what Laranys would say about them.” Qakisst shook his head at the idea of the hubris of his dreaming self. To address the blessed Goddess herself with such familiarity, surely she would strike him blind should he ever do such a thing in real life. The dream was still so real in his mind though. It was not fading quickly from his mind as other dreams had.

“Bleah.” The thought of eating his own horrible cooking turned his stomach. “Well, I am a lazy bastard if nothing.” Drawing some water from the pump Qakisst set his coffee service to brewing as he finished cleaning the grime of Thistletop from his belongings, and from their new treasures. “I am also talking to myself. Blessed Goddess, I am going to be one of those crazy old men that talk to furniture. Well, if I had any furniture.” After finishing his morning business he set the chamber pot outside the back door for one of Gorvi’s boys to pick up. Then he poured coffee, dressed for a respectable day, and started for the White Deer with his coffee in hand.

This morning Qakisst broke his normal habit when visiting the White Deer and strode to the main entry at a little before seven bells. He looked past the sparse crowd to see Korva seated in his traditional spot just as she had been the last time he had come for breakfast. Seated with her was Pavo, and the two were tense; he could see that from clear across the room. Before he could start across the common a hand gripped his arm and pulled him back out onto the front porch of the Deer. “Hold up, Kisst.” Vach pulled him to the side before anybody saw him entering the common room.

“Owww. Easy Vach.” Qakisst grimaced at the pull in his still tender ribs.

“Hey, are you okay?” Vach looked concerned now that he saw the grimace of pain on Qakisst’s face. “I thought the night watch said you guys were all fine when you came in the gate.”

“A little worse for the wear, Vach; but I will be fine.” Qakisst gripped his ribs briefly as his bruises twinged. “I was grabbed by a gigantic crab of some kind. Big enough to get all of me in its claw.”

“Ouch!” Vach looked his friend up and down, “Why didn’t you stop at temple to have them heal you up?” Vach paused only a moment before cutting off Qakisst’s reply, “Never mind. You didn’t want to bother anybody. Kisst, leave some coin in the donation box and let them take care of you. Okay look,” Vach paused, but Qakisst could see that he should not interrupt, “even if you are not going to take care of yourself; you have to take care of this feud with Korva. Whatever you said to Tanjah before you headed back out to Thistletop has her fighting with Korva now and Momma is fit to be tied. I never intended for you to start a war in the family, Kisst.” Vach looked slightly annoyed, but not nearly as angry as Qakisst might have feared. “Look, you have to do something to fix all this.”

Qakisst sighed, moved to the side and sat on the benches outside the front doors to the Deer. “I cannot fix things so they are like they were before, Vach.”

“Hey, I’m not five; I know that. But I spent four hours with Dad ripping siding off the walls yesterday and trying to make sure he didn’t get carried away and leave holes in the Inn.” Qakisst sighed as Vach continued, “Momma is crazy trying to hold everybody together, Korva and Pavo are fighting, Tanjah is mad at everybody, Aryah says she’s dropping out of school to hunt goblins and Veyho wants to go with her. Both Istakkos and Bezsh cried themselves to sleep last night because everybody is mad at everybody else. Kisst, you got to do something different.”

“Vachedi, you need to go get some breakfast.” The voice of Lady Quinta startled both men as the White Deer’s matron appeared at the doors. The two of them looked at her in shock; she had appeared so quietly. She smiled, though a bit strained, and motioned to the door. Vach frowned but moved as his mother instructed as she stepped past him and sat upon the bench next to Qakisst. “I am not your mother, Qakisst. I understand that.”

“I was born a slave.”

The blunt, monotone statement slammed across Lady Quinta like a slap to the face. “Wh… What?”

“Momma Liandra knew that; and Caster Benjamin. Vach knows too. I cannot remember why it came up, but he knows.” Lady Quinta stared at Qakisst quietly as her expression paled. “I could never tell Korva, because she always saw me as some kind of magical spirit of fire. I never wanted to burst her bubble; but it looks like it is well and truly burst now.” Qakisst chuckled and looked down at the ground. “What did Korva tell you about Laure Vieskin?”

“Uhhh?” Lady Quinta could barely open her mouth as she sat on the bench beside him. Qakisst’s admission about his past had blown all her prepared comments about respectable behavior and proper decorum out of her thoughts. “That she was a temple acolyte until she ran off to work at…” Lady Quinta paused unable to speak of the Pixie’s Kitten.

“Not too far from the truth. Laure did not run off though. Father Zantus encouraged her to find a different direction that was more true to her heart. She did not fit in as an acolyte. Her friend Sister Giulia has even been warning me not to break Laure’s heart so she still has friends at temple.” Qakisst smiled remembering Sister Giulia’s warning to him that she was watching him. “I guess Sister Giulia is as protective of her friends as anybody.”

“That is hardly conclusive that Ms. Vieskin is a person of quality, Qakisst.” Lady Quinta seemed to be getting her thoughts organized once more.

“And the escaped slave from Qadira is too good for her?” Qakisst looked to his right at Lady Quinta with a smile. It was obvious now why Qakisst had admitted to his origins after all these years. He was knocking himself off the pillar the Viskalai children tended to put him upon.

“Whatever your past, Qakisst, you are not that person anymore. Oh, Qakisst Vishtani you are a wonderful person. If you would just accept that idea you would have your choice of any number of beautiful young women.” Lady Quinta patted Qakisst on the leg.

“My Lady, I am well aware that my friends hold me to their hearts with great regard.” Qakisst looked up at the porch roof, “But I see the way fathers look at other young men, and the way they look at me. It is not the same.”

“All fathers look with disapproval on any potential suitor for their daughters, Qakisst. If that is all this is about, I am quite surprised that you would…”

“Stop.” Qakisst held up a hand, “Just stop for a second; please.”

“Qakisst!”

“No. Stop and think.” Qakisst turned on the bench to face Lady Quinta. “Do you really think that the fear I see in a fathers eyes is the same as the disapproval other young men see?” Qakisst sighed, “Ben sadece başka bir insan değilim. Gah! I cannot find the right words.” He gripped the large horns that extended above his brow, “These are all a father sees when he looks at me. I am kirletilmiş; ah… tainted. Contaminated.”

“That is not true. Qakisst, how can you say such things?”

“Can you honestly, and with a straight face tell me that you would not have had one shred of reservation had Korva and I become a couple?”

“Qakisst, that’s not…”

“Or Tanjah and I? She has been eager to talk to me of late in the same way Korva was at that age.”

“Qakisst!”

“No, please. Please tell me the truth. You try so hard to not see them,” Qakisst rose to his feet and stepped to the edge of the porch, “I cannot be normal. I will never be normal.” His voice rose slightly with his exasperation, “As much as I might not want it, I will always be the boy who people look at and wonder what is wrong with him.”

“Just stop, Qakisst.”

“How!?! How do I stop being me!?!” Qakisst turned to the street to see a hand full of people quickly turn away and hurry off after their own business. He stepped off the porch onto the well-manicured lawn then turned to Lady Quinta. “I am working very hard on being okay with being me, but tell me that if you did not know me so well that you would be fine with me spending so much time with your children. Would you let them play with just any felborn urchin off the street?”

“Qakisst, you are not felborn.”

“You would not know that if aunt Koya had not so instructed Garridan. Bunu inkar etmeyin! You said so yourself the day we met.” Qakisst looked up toward the gatehouse that he had first crossed ten years ago. Lady Quinta fell silent for along moment before she could reply.

“I did; and I am sorry Qakisst.”

“You do not need to apologize to me. You have made up for it every day sense then by being my biggest champion.” Lady Quinta went to speak, but Qakisst interrupted her, “I am not going to try to explain my relationship with Laure to you. Just trust that I am not throwing money away trying to be a grown man. I am not paying for a companion. I will not pretend that we are not a little more than friends, but she is not after my money.”

“Qakisst, such women are always after money.” Lady Quinta scowled as she said it.

“She has a funny way of showing it. She has told me very specifically not to spend money on her.” Qakisst’s frustration grew as he and Lady Quinta sparred around their differences. “For months and months everybody around here has been telling me to either get over my fear of Lady Kaijitsu or move on and find somebody else. I think I have managed both, and now everybody is pissed off at me for it!” He flung his arms in the air in frustration, “I have no wish to upset everybody here, but damn it, this is my life. I want all of you to be a part of it, but can you all please stop fighting with each other over how I am not living up to your expectations?” Frustration bordering on mania showed on Qakisst’s face. “Ben sadece bana olmak için zaman gerekir.”

“I have no idea what that means, but I think I understand. I think perhaps we’ve gotten a little used to you being thirteen forever.” Lady Quinta folded her hands in her lap and sighed.

Qakisst dropped to the foot of the porch and laughed, “It has been hard enough being a teenager for over twenty years. I think I am done with it.” Qakisst looked up at Lady Quinta, “Did I ever tell you that I had my first job almost sixteen years ago?”

“But you were just a child when you moved here ten years ago? You cannot tell me that you were working when traveling with Liandra.” Lady Quinta’s voice trailed off in disbelief.

Qakisst smiled, “No, this was before I met Momma. I worked the bellows at the Black Mare’s Smithy off the trade district in Korvosa. It was hard work, and the pay was horrible; but I like the forge. I knew more than a few people that had to sell themselves for lack of any other skill. Not a good life when you have no choice; and nobody is looking out for you. I was very glad to know how to swing a hammer back then.”

“Then how can you approve of what Ms. Vieskin does?” Lady Quinta raised an eyebrow at Qakisst.

“I did not say that I do.”
“Qakisst!”
“I neither approve nor disapprove. I have no right to judge. If she is happy and likes her work, it is not my place to tell her that she cannot do it. She is not working at the Kitten because she has no choice. She just does not like the other choices as much.”

“But Qakisst, you can’t possibly be okay with that.”

“Why not?” Lady Quinta stared blankly at Qakisst as he looked up at her and shrugged. “Is she any less a person? I do not think so.” Qakisst looked out across the street at the hand full of farmers bringing their produce into market for the day. Lady Quinta was speechless. “In my homeland women are considered gifts from the gods. No father would ever deny his daughter the right to choose her own path. If she should choose to be a warrior, a priest, an artisan, or a prostitute; it matters not but that she be free to choose her path. No husband should dare to deny his wives their own path; though not many men choose warriors for their wives. To be honest; more choose prostitute than warrior or priest. Priests are already bound to the gods and fighting women are notoriously hard to please in Qadira.” Lady Quinta blinked twice then snorted in laughter. She covered her face as Qakisst looked on wide eyed and confused.

“I am so sorry. Hehehe, oh sweet Goddess.” The wholly un-lady like snort from Lady Quinta’s nose made Qakisst giggle, “Be… Belor and G… Garridan. Mighty warriors always fighting like little girls over what they want to do; impossible to please.” Qakisst blinked twice, then both of them snorted with laughter so loud that little Viskalai faces began to peak through the window from the common. When Qakisst saw them he fell off the porch onto the grass laughing.

After a moment, as their laughter began to die down they heard the steady tapping of a foot next to the door. As both looked up at Korva, arms crossed and scowling down at them, they began to laugh again. “Mother! The customers are staring at you.”

“Hehe, hurm. Let them.” Lady Quinta straightened her dress and looked at her daughter; mirth unmistakably pinned to her face. “I have not had a laugh like that in too long. Please chase the littles off to school, Korva.”

“Mother, you’re making a spectacle.” Korva did not move.

“If you are going to work for me, please do as asked. You can yell at me as my daughter later.” Lady Quinta struggled to hide a grin still thinking of her husband and his brother as petulant girls arguing over everything. The younger Viskalai children pilled out of the inn; Istakkos and Bezsh tackling Qakisst on the ground to wrestle.

“OW, Ow, ow.” Qakisst gripped the two squirming boys and held them tight, “Boys, stop. You are hurting me.” Both boys quit trying to wrestle Qakisst to the ground. “I am sorry, boys. I am still a little sore from my adventures yesterday. No bucking bull today.” Qakisst looked up at the older three children heading off to school. Tanjah looked back as Aryah and Veyho dashed up the street.

“Are you okay, Kisst?” Tanjah gave him a worried look.

“Ben gülmek O sadece acıyor. I will be okay if I can get through breakfast without any more laughing.” Qakisst lifted himself onto the foot of the porch. “Go on, Tanjah. School. I will talk to you later.” Tanjah frowned as she turned and rushed after her siblings while Istakkos and Bezsh pulled Qakisst to his feet. “And you two. I have work today as well. But you can feed me breakfast.”

After Qakisst led the two youngest into the Inn, Korva reappeared at the entry and glared at her mother. “Korva, your face will stick like that if you keep making that face.”

“Mother! You were supposed to talk to him, not have a friendly laugh with him.”

“I told you last week, I cannot stop him from making mistakes. If this is one, he will have to learn it the hard way.” Lady Quinta stood and brushed the wrinkles from her dress. “Stop stirring the pot, Korva. You are not going to like what you get.”

“Why doesn’t anybody else see her for what she is?”

“I have no idea what kind of person this Laure Vieskin is as I have not met her; but I know what kind of person Qakisst Vishtani is and that is enough for now.” Korva glared with a pouting lip at her mother. “Let him go, Korva. Pavo has been patient enough already.”

“That is not what this is about!”

“Yes it is.” Pavo stepped out through the entry of the White Deer, “I have to go to work.”

“Pavo!” Korva started off the porch after Pavo when he turned.

“No, Korva. I have work, and you have to figure out how you actually feel. I know you like me, but I’m not as blind as Qakisst, or as hard headed as Belor. I know you’ve always had feelings for him. However, I am not as selfless as Qakisst. I kind of want you for my own. But you have to want just me. Take your time; I’m not going anyplace.” Pavo turned to leave. “Just don’t leave me hanging. I couldn’t stand that.” Pavo Korbit marched off toward the Sandpoint Garrison.

A soft voice behind her washed over Korva, “Are you going to chase after him or not?” Qakisst stood behind her in the doorway.

“Why, cause he took a knife for you?” Korva’s angry retort melted against Qakisst.

“No, because he took a knife for you.”

Lady Quinta looked away as Korva turned angrily to face Qakisst. “What are you talking about?”

“You cannot actually believe that Pavo took a knife to stop his best friend from killing me, can you? Pavo became my friend later; but he never did it for me. He took that knife to save your friend; for you. He did it for you, Korva. It was always about you.” Korva’s anger slowly melted as realization sunk in. “Pavo almost gave his life to save you; and it has made him a far better person today. Now stop being silly and chase after him.”

Korva stood a moment stunned before stepping back and running down Church Street after Pavo. Lady Quinta flushed red with embarrassment as she sat in front of the inn, “I swear my family is like a bad romance novella.” Qakisst chuckled. “I am impressed, Qakisst. How long have you known what prompted Pavo’s bravery all those years ago?”

“I think I figured it out about ten seconds ago.” Lady Quinta looked at Qakisst with some disbelief. Qakisst smiled, “I can be a little slow some times.”

“Not as slow as most Viskalai. I don’t think Korva would have ever figured it out.”

“How long have you known?” Qakisst looked at Lady Quinta.

“That next day, after the fire had finally been put out.” Lady Quinta looked up at the eve as she referenced the fire that had nearly destroyed Sandpoint after the Sunwrought Festival five years ago, “I was helping with the injured afterwards down at the school. Trying to keep all of my children gathered together and help other mothers find their children. When Korva finally came back from the garrison with you, he couldn’t stop looking at her. Even half out of it on whatever it was that Hannah was giving the injured for pain, all he could do was stare and smile. But he refused to look at you at all.” Qakisst and Lady Quinta looked down the street where Korva had run. “There were lots of burns, a few sprains and broken ankles, but only one knife wound. Everybody that wasn’t talking about the fire was talking about how brave Pavo Korbit was to tackle your attacker. Nobody was talking about how the fight started in the first place, or that the person that Pavo had to stop was his own best friend.” Lady Quinta sighed. “According to Master Gandethus, Pavo and his friends gave you quite a bit of trouble at school. He had to work very hard before Garridan and I would give him permission to call on Korva. I probably never would have if you had not forgiven him.”

“Hrm. Affetmek için hiçbir şey yoktur. I have not forgiven anything. Not many know, but Pavo did more than save me from a knife.” Lady Quinta looked at Qakisst as he spoke, “Half the time I was in trouble at school it was Banny Harker, or Ibor and Gedi Thorn. More often than not, all three. They let Pavo trail around with them all the time. Pavo is an orphan and he was just trying to fit in; desperate for friendship. They left me dumped in the north stairwell in the basement one Fireday six or seven years ago. I was pretty badly hurt. Broken ribs. Broken leg. Cracked jaw. I think it was the worst beating I ever took. They had caught me by surprise and thrown a bag over my head, so I hadn’t seen who it was; but I knew. Pavo doesn’t know I know about this; but he slipped my friend Kashka a note telling her where to find me. He fell in with a bad crowd, but Pavo was never a bad kid. I think it just took him a few years to figure out where he stood and who he is.”

“You are too forgiving, Qakisst. I am very glad that Pavo has become a right proper young man, but it was not preordained.”

“Oh, I got my revenge. I let Korva teach him how to dance; but I made sure to pick the music the bards were playing. She was always use to somebody that knew how to lead. She kicked the crap out of his shins the first couple of times.” Lady Quinta looked down with a smile.

“Hey you. Eat this.” Vach stuffed a wrapped loaf of fresh bread with butter and ham into Qakisst’s hands as he stepped on to the porch. “I set the boys to play in the state room, since nobody is using it. Nothing they can reach and there are lots of eyes watching. Your coffee is still sitting over there getting cold too.”

“Thanks. It is getting late and my stomach is fit to be tied.” Qakisst smelled the fresh bread before taking a bite.

“Qakisst?” Qakisst turned to Lady Quinta, “You will bring your friend to brunch on Sunday?”

Qakisst blinked as he stepped to the side of the Deer’s entry to let a guest pass. “Ben gerçekten... Um. I really only get to see Laure when she has an evening off work.” His face turned a deep maroon. “She is usually, well, not free Starnight, or awake Sunday mornings.”

“Well, at least you have enough sense to be embarrassed about her work hours. If she is going to call on one of my boys she will come to brunch sometime soon.” Lady Quinta stood and picked up Qakisst’s cup from the bench.

“Mom! Leave it be.” Vach pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Nobody wants to see Laure and Korva throwing potatoes at each other over breakfast. And you; get those bruised ribs healed. Now get; I saw your pal Caleb heading down the street just a bit ago. If the story of what you drug back in from Thistletop is true, he’ll be looking for you soon enough.” Vach took the coffee cup from his Mother, handed it to Qakisst, and pushed him out to the street.

“What’s wrong with his ribs?” Lady Quinta looked up at Vach with some annoyance as Qakisst walked down the street. “He complained to the boys about them earlier.”

Vachedi shrugged “A giant crab thing tried to crush him in its claw.”

“Oh dear.” Lady Quinta covered her lower face with a start.

The Exchange

I got a little long winded and had to break this chapter into three parts. Sometimes it's just fun writing about the everyday things.

Interlude: Fireforged:

Qakisst walked down the street toward his cottage, hoping to get there before Konnor took to opening the lock himself; happily munching on the stuffed loaf of bread. As he turned across Temple Square toward High Street he saw Korva and Pavo fighting with each other down by Junker’s Way. He hoped they were not fighting about him and Laure, and had moved on to hashing out their own issues. They were really good together, but Korva’s stubborn control streak was difficult for anybody to deal with. Even somebody as patient as Pavo. He just hoped Pavo would survive to pop the question someday soon.

As he strolled along he spotted Caleb and Athos at the corner of High and Festival streets. “Hey! Guys! Keep Konnor off my lock!” The group stopped at the corner to wait. Even Konnor paused at the corner.
“I’m not going to take anything. But it you want, I can help you set up a few traps.”

“No, thank you Konnor. I do not intend to keep a bunch of treasure lying around my cottage.” Qakisst nodded to the group. “Good morning, Sapphire, Tessa.”

“Good morning sleepy. What took you so long? I thought you rose with the sun?” Sapphire smiled at him, “Did somebody keep you awake last night?”

The party turned toward Qakisst. “No. I was up early and went to the Deer to talk peace with Korva.”

“What did you do to piss Korva off?” Caleb looked sideways at Qakisst as Qakisst crossed the street to his door.

“Did you not hear Korva’s declaration last Sunday? The whole town heard it.” Tessa leaned against the door frame.

“Nah, Caleb was camped out in the woods again.” Konnor put away his tool kit as he stopped next to the cottage.

“That blows your theory Q; that it was heard all the way to Magnimar.” As Athos teased Qakisst, the young ifrit opened the door.

“Korva does not like Laure, or approve of my spending time with her.” Qakisst shrugged as he entered the front room to see the giant gold coated bronze helm sitting in the center of the room.

“What does Korva have against Laure?” Caleb slipped in behind Qakisst.

“How would your sister react to you sleeping with a Pixie Girl?” Qakisst looked up at Caleb with one eye raised.

“Relieved to know he is not sleeping with a Pixie Boy?” Tessa drifted around the room looking at the lack of furnishings.

“What’s wrong with sleeping with a Pixie Boy?” Sapphire leaned against the doorjamb looking in the room at everybody. “Sounds like fun to me.”

“No idea? If you like guys, you like guys. What does it matter who Caleb is sleeping with?” Qakisst opened the bag of eternal candles and began stacking them on the floor. “Anybody mind if I keep ten of the sixty candles? That would be my share of them.”

“Hey, good idea.” Quickly the candles were divided up evenly for each to sell them if they wanted.

“Okay this is an amulet of natural armor.” Qakisst knelt on the floor next to the pile of treasure. “Who should get it?”

“I could use it?” Konnor raised his hand.

“We could all use it, silly.” Tessa sent a breeze to ruffle Konnor’s hair.

“Give it to Athos or Sapphire. They jumped in and took the biggest lumps from the Barghest.” Caleb pointed to the two while looking up at the wall. “Is that my old scimitar?” Hanging near the fireplace hung Caleb’s old scimitar, polished and clean.

“Yeah. I think it was one of the first blades I made at Savah’s, so I kept it.” Qakisst looked up at the wall.

“He even put the seven and five in the pot for it. He really didn’t need too though. It isn’t that valuable.” Sapphire shrugged.

“Sapphire can take the amulet. I’ve got a shield; she’s swinging two handed.” Athos looked up at the wall as Qakisst passed the amulet to Sapphire. “Hey, your old spear.” Athos reached up above the door. “May I, Q?”

“Sure.”

“How’d you do it? The giant?” Athos spun the spear to gage its balance.

“Wait, skinny here fought a giant?” Sapphire looked around at Qakisst with a raised eyebrow.

Qakisst blushed slightly and looked over the Sihedron ring of force, “I stabbed it from behind while it was still on fire from fighting my mother. It was nearly dead already.”

“Your mother?” Sapphire looked more closely at Qakisst. Had the boy’s mother been a great warrior of some sort? That might explain his rushing into combat so recklessly.

“Bleeding out.” Qakisst answered the wrong inquiry as he looked down at the floor with a sour expression. “All I did was to make sure that the giant died first. I doubt that it could have survived long with its face burned away.” Sapphire looked slightly pale as Qakisst stood up, “Hey Tessa, can you make this ring work? You can use the shield effect to cover you while you close to bomb range.”

“Sure. It’s prettier than those badge things the city gave us.” Tessa caught the ring as Qakisst tossed it to her.

“What’s this little silver coffer worth?” Qakisst held up the silver coffer that the Sihedron ring had been found in.

“About a hundred coin, I think.” Konnor walked out of the kitchen. “Nice place you have, Qakisst. Want some help securing it?”

“It’s good. Nobody will mess with me in town, I got friends.” Qakisst smiled and shrugged.

“Yeah, you trust Nicu and his friends too much.” Caleb looked over at Qakisst. “So, what do we do with a giant gold helmet that weighs near to ten stone?”

“It’s too light to be solid gold.” Konnor walked up to the giant helm.

“Q can use it as a table. You do need some furniture, Qakisst. This place is more barren that a new yurt.” Athos smiled looking past the beaded hanging into the next room as he placed the spear back on its wall hooks. “I don’ even see a bed. I hope you haven’t brought your lady up here with no bed.”
“The bed is clear in the back.” Konnor pointed through the curtain to a door in the back of the next room.
“Why were you in my bedroom?” Qakisst glared at Konnor with annoyance.

“Just making sure your place is safe.” Konnor looked around. “You need to get better shutters on this place. These won’t slow a twelve year old.”

“It is a good thing you are only five.” Qakisst stepped up to the giant helm. “Same way as yesterday? Litter carry with the four polls?”

“Where too first. I want to know where we’re going.” Caleb flexed his arms. “This thing is heavy.”

“The Red Dog is across the street.” Qakisst looked over his shoulder. “I do not know if he can do anything with it, but maybe Das can tell us who can. First, we have to get it out the door.”

With some struggling the six managed to heft the massive helm out the door without carving up the floor and across the street to Das Korvut’s smithy.

“What in the name of Desna is that?” Das stood in the workshop door to his smithy staring at the massive piece of gold plated bronze.

“Heavy.” Five of Sandpoint’s heroes leaned on the massive helm as Tessa poked her head in the door.

After some discussion with Das Korvut, it was determined that the giant helm should be taken to Brodert Quint for study, while looking for a buyer who might be interested in such artifacts. After a quick trip by Master Kesk’s jewelry shop and a trip to the Town Hall to bank their gains, the group split up to go about their own business. By ten bells Qakisst returned to Savah’s Armory.

“Di manakah anda, Savah?” Qakisst looked around the big warehouse that made up Savah’s Armory.

“What?” Ben and Keth looked to the warehouse door as they worked on a set of long metal rods and hooks.

“Where’s Savah?” Qakisst walked up to the twins.

“Setting up a booth…”

“…in temple square.”

“What for?” Qakisst looked at the two confused. “I was going to invite all three of you to join us at the Dragon for a giant crab bake.” Both boys began to laugh. “What?”

“I think your…”

“…giant crab bake…”

“…has moved.”

“What?”

“One of the guard came by to let Savah know that there would be a small festival to celebrate the clearing of Thistletop in temple square starting at four bells.” The boys spoke in unison as they smiled at Qakisst.

“Ummm… Nah, itu adalah kejutan. That is a surprise. I guess I will see you there.”

Ben smiled, “You’re going to introduce us to your friend Sapphire right?” Keth rolled his eyes at Ben and went back to pounding out the six cubit long iron hook required for the Glass Works.

“I will be in the back working for a couple hours. If Savah comes in please point her back here. Thanks.” Qakisst slipped out of his vest and shirt and went to work on his project. After weeks of work he had his chemistry ready and his mixes prepped. His molds were set and he had carefully set the hollow core from dense enough wood to withstand the initial pouring. Qakisst set up his assembly line and prepared to poor his casting. He walked up to the front of the armory. “Hey guys, how long till there’s a gap in the line. I need to run a ten pound melt of steel.”

“Oh…” Keth looked up from the bellows as Ben pulled the long metal hook he was working from the forge. “In about an hour.”

“Fit me into that gap for long enough to do a melt.” Qakisst grabbed the large ten pound crucible and headed into the back.

“If you’re just hanging a pot, you’re not going to be in our way.” Ken paused on the bellows and shrugged. You can start heating the pot in about ten minutes when we have to quench this rod and start the next.”

“Yeah, just don’t let Savah…

“…see you do it…”

“…bare handed.” Ben pulled the long metal rod he was working clear of the fire and began to shape it on the anvil as Keth moved to load more wood into the furnace.

“Thanks guys. I will have this ready in less than ten.” Qakisst rushed to have his melt pot ready for the forge; but was very careful about his measured amounts. Fire forge was tricky. The chemical mix had to be just right or the metal would turn brittle and not hold an edge. Qakisst studied each piece of ore carefully, focusing on it, looking for any contamination that could spoil the melt. As he gazed into the iron ore his focus sharpened; his awareness expanded. Qakisst would swear he could feel flaws inside the metal as he discarded this piece and that; selecting only the cleanest and purest metal.

“I think he’s fallen in love.” Ben nudged Keth as they swapped places before starting the next step in their project.

“Hey lover boy. The forge is ready; are you?” Keth shook his head.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Qakisst slipped the last pieces of unsmelted ore required into the melt bucket and rushed to the forge. He looked around the warehouse turned armory; and not seeing Savah reached into the open forge door to hang the bucket over the coal bed.

“I saw that! You use a hook and gloves next time or else, Mister!” Savah strolled in the warehouse door and to the front office without pausing to further chew out her one time apprentice.

Qakisst grimaces as he heard Savah yelling at him. “Gloves, guys. Do not ever forget it.” Qakisst pulled the expensive wind up clock Savah kept by the forge and set it for seventy-four minutes. “Let me know…”

“Yeah, yeah. I saw what chemistry you’re playing with.” Ben rolled his eyes as Qakisst rushed to the front of the armory.

“What chemistry is he playing with?” Keth looked at his brother in confusion.

“Stop staring and actually pay attention to what he does, Keth.” Ben rolled his eyes again as he pulled the next long iron rod to work. “You might learn something.”

Qakisst entered the front store and stepped up behind the counter next to Savah, “Savah…”

“Shut it now!” Savah’s anger colored her face as she sorted through the hand full of articles that would be worth trying to sell at an impromptu festival. Qakisst blanched. “Those two boys look up to you, Qakisst. Especially now. And look at you? No apron, no shirt, light breaches and sandals on, IN MY FOUNDARY!” Savah turned to her one time apprentice, “And I saw you reach into the forge bare handed.”

Qakisst gulped visibly, “Buh…” Savah slammed a short blade in its sheath down on the counter.

“NO BUTTS, Qakisst! What you can do is amazing, but could easily get somebody else killed. You do not want that kind of guilt on your conscience. Those two boys look up to you. Hell, they practically worship the ground you walk on; especially now. People will try to emulate you; especially impressionable young kids.” As Savah turned to him, Qakisst remembered Vach’s comment this morning about Aryah and Veyho wanting to run off fighting goblins and gulped. “It already scares the willies out of me that you’re out there fighting these things. I know you’re twice my age, but you are not a fully grown and mature man. Do not make me regret my faith in you.” Savah sat back into the barstool she kept in the shop and pinched her nose as she hugged herself tight.

“Look, Kisst; I know you’ve seen horrible things happen around a foundry, and I know that you’re basically immune to most of them, but for somebody that constantly says that you would like to be more normal you spend a lot of your time proving that you are not like the rest of us. Think about those horrible things happening to Keth or Ben. Think about them happening to my next apprentice, who won’t be as experienced as the boys and may not realize that they just can’t do some things. This is your last warning. You break my laws in this shop again and you’re out.”

Qakisst looked tiny as his shoulders slumped and he shrank back. “Yes ma’am.” The words were no more than a whisper when he spoke them as he backed out on the storefront and into the work shop. As Ben worked on the long iron tools needed for the glass works, Keth watched Qakisst shuffle back to his work area and pull out the heavy leather apron that matched theirs and the heavy leather breaches that he had left here. Qakisst looked at the scorch marks on the front of them and set them on the bench next to his molds. He looked around then headed for the door. “Keep my temperature right, Keth. I will be back in less than fifteen minutes.”

Good to his word, Qakisst returned in just over ten minutes in heavier breaches with the hated boots on. He pulled on his apron and set to prepping the pour station for his project. He made sure to have his mold in place, the cinder bricks ready, and while Ben and Keth continued working the Kaijitsu order he refilled the cooling trough, restocked the wood pile, and straightened up anything that was not needed. Both Ben and Keth watched him as they worked.

“You…”

“…okay,…”

“…Q?”

“Evet, ben iyi olduğumu. Sadece düşünüyordum.” Qakisst settled in to wait for his melt pot to grow hot enough.

“What?” Ben looked confused as he hooked an angle form around the bar he was working and bent the hot metal into its new shape.

“Leave him be. He’s thinking.” Keth worked the bellows slowly keeping the constant temperature in the furnace.

Qakisst’s thoughts wandered back to his time working in Korvosa. He’d seen a man lose most of a foot when a melt pot came free of its mooring and pour out onto the workroom floor. He’d also seen men with terrible burns from working the forge for years. Missing fingers, missing ears, scars far worse than the whip scars on his back. In Korvosa they seemed to simply accept that these things happened eventually. Savah obviously did not. And she was right that he complained about not being normal while simultaneously showing off his unique heritage. Was he ifrit or was he human? No, that was not right. Was he efreeti or was he human? He clearly was not efreeti like his mother; he lacked the power to grant mortals their fondest wishes. But he was not simply human either. Gah! His head hurt.

“Hey! Hey Q! You got…”

“…ten minutes till your poor.”

“Thanks guys.” Qakisst stood up and finished prepping his station for the pour and grabbed the hooks and tongs he would need. It would be harder to do it with hooks and tongs, but the idea of Keth or Ben crippled had driven the idea home. You do it right for a reason. “I am going to need a spotter.”

Keth looked at him a moment before he replied, “Let me grab my gloves. Ben is in the middle of a form.” Keth locked the bellows into place and came around with his gloves and prepped himself. “What exactly am I doing?”

“Set the pouring frame over that end and jack the base of the mold to a ten degree angle.” Qakisst felt the excitement of creation cracking through his foul mood. “I have to handle the capping.” Qakisst looked around and grabbed an extra set of tongs.

“How are you going to set the chemistry for the fire forge, Q? That has to be pounded in.” Ben looked up as he bent a tight angle into the end of the tool he was working on.

“I painted the chemistry onto the clay of the mold and into the wood core that I am using to hollow the tube. The molten ore will suck the chemistry out if I can keep this hot enough for a few minutes when I run an electrical charge through it.” Ben paused to look at Qakisst.

“We don’t have the gear…”

“…for an electrical charger.”

“I am the electrical charger.” As the alarm on Savah’s clock signaled it was time, Qakisst reached into the forge with the pot hook and extracted the heavy cast iron pot from the forge and brought it to the edge of the fire pit. He carefully scraped away the slag from the top and brought the pot to the poring frame and hung it, handed the hook to Keth and said, “Start the pour slowly, Keth. You have to let the metal roll all the way down or it will backflow and leave a bubble.”

Keth stated the pour, and the smell of burning wood wafted into the air. “A little faster, Keth. That is it.” When the first vent hole at the base of the mold began to spray molten steel Qakisst dropped the first cinder brick using the tongs. “The tube is hot now, let it pour, Keth. As fast as it will take it.” Liquid metal began spurting from the next vent and Qakisst dropped the cinder brick into place. Then over the third hole, and finally over the fourth. “Get back now, okay.” Qakisst took his dagger and bound a surge of electrical energy into his hand, “Mshtuko.” He poked the tip of the dagger into the pour hole and sent the jolt of power running through the molten liquid. The jolt charged the chemistry bound up to the surface of the mold and sucked it into the liquid metal. Instantly the melting point of the steel changed and the metal solidified. “Go stand by Ben, Keth. This is going to get hot.”

The fire-forged steel drew the heat down the shaft to where the blade would attach and the mold cracked as the metal swelled; still white hot. Qakisst rolled the now cracked top half to the mold off of the long metal pole and called up the fire in his heart. He sent the fire into the wood core that he had used to hollow the metal pole and began to burn out the wooded shaft. The pole returned to white hot and scorched out the wood until it shrank as the metal expanded slightly. Looking up at the office as he picked up his long needle pliers Qakisst jabbed the pliers into the burnt wood and pulled the core free.

Savah watched carefully as Qakisst went through the process that he had figured out to clear the core out while the metal was still hot enough not to shrink. The scorched wood was quickly rolled in the dirt floor to make sure it caught nothing else on fire, then set out of the way. Then instead of using tongs, Qakisst slid a long thin metal rod into the hollow metal haft and popped it free of the bottom mold.

“CLEAR.” Qakisst called out in a firm voice as he moved his cast steal rod over the quenching tank and dropped the pole into the pool. To pull the pinning rod out that he had used to lift it, Qakisst flipped over his long nose pliers and pinned back the metal haft as he pulled.

“See. You can do it right when you chose.” Savah’s comment stung Qakisst’s ego. “Now explain why this rod needed to be fire-forge.”

“I cannot explain it. I have to show you.” Qakisst started picking up the broken parts of his mold and cleaning up the mess he had created. “It is not cool yet; and I will have to test the chemistry to make sure I got it right.”

“Wait. You spent two hundred coin to make a metal rod that is heat resistant?”

Qakisst looked up at Savah, “No. Fire-forge does not just block heat flow. It directs it.” Qakisst pulled out a pair of tongs now and reached into the long trough to pull out the steel rod. He lifted the rod up and poured the water out of the tube. It is cool enough to touch now, but skin contact will mess up the chemistry for another hour or two until it has completely cooled.” Qakisst carried the rod back to his bench and carefully laid it down on a long cloth he had laid out in advance. “I have another pour to do for the spear head; but it can wait for tomorrow if you want me out of the way while the guys keep working the Kaijitsu order.”

“They’re still working and you didn’t disrupt anything. No reason you can’t finish the pour. Just do it right.” Savah turned to return to the storefront as Qakisst spoke.

“Savah, I am really…”

“Stop right there.” She turned back to him. “I don’t want to hear it. I want to see it. I want to see you being the kind of worker that I am proud to have in my shop, Master Vishtani.”

“Yes Master Savah.” Qakisst turned back to the twins who were busy prepping another set of the long hooks needed for the glassworks. “When can I hang another melt pot, guys?

“Thirty minutes; at least.”

“I will be ready in twenty-five. Let me know when I can fit in.” Qakisst went back to cleaning up the mess that he had made and prepping for his second pour. When Qakisst was nearly ready for his second pour he sat down at the ore bin and began sorting through the raw metal looking for the cleanest bits, removing contaminated pieces, examining each piece of unsmelted iron with a critical eye. The task drew him in as never before.

“HEY! Sleeping beauty! You got about two minutes!” The shout startled Qakisst out of his trance like examination of the ore. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Fire rolled across his mind directing Qakisst to remove this and add that. A clarity of though he had never known. “Savah, neredeyse hazır. Teşekkür ederim.” The voice of fire rolled off his tongue without thought.

Savah looked at the twins with a confused look. “He’s almost ready.” Keth pulled the long hook he was working free of the furnace and pointed at Ben. “Better crank it up to the temp he asked for earlier.”

Qakisst pulled on his gloves and picked up the long hook used for placing the melting pots into the furnace. “Bu açık mı? Uh, Am I clear?” Qakisst moved up next to the furnace, but waited for Savah to clear him to enter the furnace area.

“Furnace is clear.” Savah stepped back out of Keth’s way as he set to working the long iron hook while Qakisst stepped into the furnace loading block and extended the hook to hang his melt pot. “When you’re done, set your clock and come over here.” Savah motioned with a nod over to the warehouse doors. Qakisst gave her a sheepish look as he pulled the hook clear of the furnace and hung it to cool.

Before following Savah he cleared and closed the ore bin doors and made sure his bench was ready for his next step and that the clock was set. Then he pulled his gloves and set them on his work bench before joining Savah outside the armory. “Qakisst, I know you’re trying extra hard right now; but are you okay? I saw the bruising around the ribs, and you don’t normally show of your scars like you were before.” Before Qakisst could reply, Savah gripped his arm. “You don’t normally rattle replies in Ignan either.” Qakisst’s startled expression spoke before he could.

“Ben ne yaptım? Ne zaman? Lanet! Uh sorry. I am having a hard time translating the words in my head.” Qakisst turned away in embarrassment.

“What do you mean, having a hard time translating the words?” Savah stepped around to look Qakisst in the eyes.

“Ben… I am not a native Taldan speaker. I am not even a native Varisi speaker. Even after nearly twenty years I still have trouble thinking in Varisi or Taldan.” Qakisst tried to look up to escape Savah’s gaze. “That is why I talk so slow all the time. I am not smart enough to translate it fast enough in my head. And I have never quite gotten the knack of thinking in Taldan. It has even gotten hard to think in Varisi; especially since yesterday at Thistletop. My head has been full of fire since we got back. Uh, full of Ignan.”

“Look at me, Qakisst Vishtani.” Qakisst lowered his gaze to look Savah in the eyes. “Be honest and tell me if you’re okay. I need to know; for your own good.” Savah looked into his eyes with stern concern. “I need to be able to rely on you, and I need you to be able to communicate.

“I just need to clear my head, Savah. Figure out what it is I really want to do.” Qakisst shrugged, “I never intended to be an adventurer. I would have been happy working caravan, or working for you. Maybe both. Now everybody is looking at me like some adventure hero; but I don’t feel like much of a hero.”

“You keep your head about you, Kisst. I’m not going to throw you out of the shop; not yet anyway. Just keep the boys in mind when you’re working around here.” Savah hugged him unexpectedly and Qakisst blushed.

“Dad, stop!” Savah pushed him back snorting to not laugh.

“You little bastard. I’ll get you for that.” Savah punched him in the chest. Qakisst grimaced from the none too soft punch.

“HEY! No fighting…”

“…on the work floor!

“We’re not on the work floor, you brats!” Savah turned back to Qakisst after berating her apprentices, “You’ll be honest with me if there are real problems, right?”

“Yes m’Lady.” Savah punched him again.

“No fighting…”

“…on the work floor!”

“Shut it, you two!” Savah and Qakisst both yelled into the warehouse. As the two of them turned to enter the warehouse once more they heard a voice behind them.

“Master Savah, are you planning to run the target board at the festival this afternoon?” The voice of Sir Jasper Korvaski startled them both. “I should look forward to some competition at knife throwing.”

“Sir Jasper.” Qakisst nodded as Savah turned to address the administrator of Sandpoint’s Mercantile League.

“I will indeed, Sir Jasper. Are you planning to compete for a wager this time?” Savah smiled as she replied.

“Perhaps, if it will make it more exciting for some of the younger participants. I don’t mind losing a coin or two, and if by chance I win the church can have my gains. I am heading up to the square now. Do you need a hand with anything?” Despite his advancing years, the onetime adventuring paladin had kept himself is excellent condition; but Savah turned him down.

“I appreciate the offer, Sir Jasper; but that is part of what I pay Ben and Keth for. Besides, I have already hauled the targets up to the square. Just the box of knives to carry. Though you have reminded me that it is almost time. We will see you there shortly.” Savah smiled to Sir Jasper before returning to the task of gathering up the few things she yet needed for the impromptu festival.

Ben and Keth made to switch places to start the next set of tools for the glassworks, but Savah interrupted them. “Start cleaning up, boys. But keep Q’s pot at temperature. It’s just past three bells now and we have a booth to run this evening.”

“Um, Savah?”

“I already sent a runner out to your Pa’s farm to tell him you’re working a festival for pay this evening. He knows you’ll be later in the evening.”

“Thank you, Savah!” The duet of teen voices brought a smile to Savah’s face as she went back into the storefront to collect the required wares for her booth.

Thirty minutes later Savah came out from the front counter to survey the work floor. “Ben, grab those boxes off the counter. If you can’t carry them all grab what you can. Keth will get the rest after he is done helping Kisst with his pour.”

“Uh, I do not require the help, Savah; but I appreciate it.” Qakisst was painting the inside of his spearhead mold very carefully with the fire-forge chemistry as he spoke.

“Don’ thank me yet. You’ll be helping Keth finish clean up, prep the wood stock, and carry anything left on the counter up to the booth.”

“No problem. I will make sure it is done before we come up.” Qakisst looked up from his task, “I cannot pause just now, or I would fill the wood stock now.”

“Don’ forget, you two.” Qakisst rolled his eyes, as Keth protested from his place at the bellows. Savah led Ben out the door and up the hill to Temple Square.

Qakisst found himself becoming hyper aware of his surroundings as he completed his tasks. Like clockwork he picked up his gloves and headed for the forge just seconds before the clock chimed its alarm.

“You don’ need those. Savah’s not here now.” Keth kept a steady up and down pace on the bellows.

“Actually I do. Sticking the pot in barehanded, I can do. I should not, but I can. Pulling it out, even I cannot do that. My hand would burn right to the handle.” Keth looked at Qakisst with disbelief. “Trust me, Keth. I can withstand some pretty intense heat for several minutes, but that pot is too hot for even me to bare-hand right now. I would do it with just the glove, but Savah is right. I should not.” Qakisst set his mold in place and set up the frame to hold the pot for his pour; then taking the pot hook and pulling on his gloves, reached into the furnace to pull out his pot. “You can close the dampers now and bank the bed as soon as it cools enough to do so.”

Keth moved to close the dampers then stepped back to watch Qakisst closely. When Qakisst waved him over, he stepped up cautiously. “Start slow just like last time and when I tell you to do so pour it all.” Qakisst handed the hook that attached to the bottom of the pot to Keth and picked up a cinder brick with the large tongs. Keth slowly tipped the pot over the mold and started the pour. The flow was spot onto the mold vent and in seconds liquid metal sprayed out of the small lower vent. Qakisst caped the hole with the cinder brick and told him, “Pour it all.” When the last bit of metal overflowed the pour hole Qakisst stuck a metal rod into the liquid and prepared to send a burst of electric energy into the metal, “Stand back please.” Keth stepped back as Qakisst whispered, “Mshtuko.” The metal surged, heated drastically, and a portion sprayed up as the melting point changed with the fire-forged chemistry. The metal froze in the air creating a fascinating pattern.

“Q!” Keth cried out and pointed to where the super-hot metal had splattered onto Qakisst’s apron and was burning through the thick leather. Qakisst glanced down and seeing it bent forward to get the apron away from his own body, then hit the metal with the freezing cantrip.

“Barafu.” The metal splatter stopped scorching his apron and fell away in small shards. “Thanks Keth. That could have been kind of painful.” Qakisst pulled the now harmless apron off and set it aside. “I got this now. Go ahead and get the coal bed banked for the night. As soon as this pops the mold I’ll set it aside till tomorrow and help you fill the wood stock.”

Keth moved to clean up the tools still out and closed all the vents on the forge, then pulled out the long, thick metal rod that Savah had them use to drag burnt ash from the sides of the forge over the hot coals. Soon enough the heat from the furnace began to diminish as the flow of air cut off to the burning wood. As Keth walked out to the back of the armory Qakisst followed him to the wood pile.

“Keth, can I ask you a question?” Qakisst passed Keth as he rushed to finish the tasks at hand.

“Sure.” Keth slowed slightly and looked at Qakisst.

“Why do you sneak into town all the time?” Qakisst grabbed up several cords of wood as he spoke.

“Who said I sneak into town?”

“You did, actually. You were in town on Sunday, but Ben did not know you were here. I did not know it was a secret.” Qakisst shrugged as he headed back to the work floor, wood in hand. “I hope Ben was not mad at you or anything; and I am sorry if I got you into any trouble.”

“He did not say anything; but he has been a little cranky at me this week.” Keth looked away as he piled several cords of wood into his own arms. His mood seemed to darken. “What did he say?”

“He said that you two tell each other everything; but that obviously is not exactly true.” Qakisst paused coming back out the door as Keth entered with his arms full. “Is there something I can help with?”

Keth froze in his tracks and stared at Qakisst, stuttering and speechless.

“Keth?”

“Uh, no.” The soft voice barely reached Qakisst at first. “No, I’m fine. Just. I’m fine.” Keth surged back into motion to finish stocking the forge. “It’s already four bells. Let’s get moving.”

“Come on, Keth.” Qakisst followed the younger apprentice back to the wood pile.

“I am fine.” Keth loaded down his arms with wood. “I just… I can’ really explain it.” He gave Qakisst a lost lonely look, “Ben knows. He understands. I’m good. Can we just finish this and go have some fun?”

“Yeah sure.” Qakisst grabbed another arm full and the two finished their clean up tasks; then grabbed the three remaining cases of bladed for Savah’s booth in Festival Square. The short walk did not seem to lighten Keth’s mood. When the pair arrived at the square Savah quickly arranged the short blades and throwing knives for the evening of sport. Keth took Ben’s place behind the display pulling daggers from the targets just fifteen feet back from the counter around a caged off target board made of soft wood. Ben took to dancing as soon as he was free for a moment.

The Exchange

Sometimes even adventurers like to party. Especially Qakisst.

Interludes: Dancing with an Angel:

Qakisst looked out across Festival Square and smiled. The music called to him and he started to step forward when a hand gripped his arm. He paused and turned to see who his dance partner would be and found Korva there, looking slightly small and childlike. “Hi.” She tried to smile as she spoke, but the fear in her eyes held her fast.

“Are we still friends?” Qakisst smiled as he said it.

“I still don’t like her, but I am sorry for being such an ass about it.”

“You do not like a lot of my friends. You have never shouted it to the heavens before.”

“I know. I am sorry about it; I really am.”

“I know, but I cannot forgive you for it, Korva.” Qakisst gave her a sympathetic smile as he said it.

“I… what… I don’ understand?”

“I can forgive you for being a complete ass this last week, but I cannot forgive you for what you said. You have to ask her for that.”

“What!” Korva seemed non-plus at the idea.

“Do not give me what. You know full well that it was not me you insulted at the top of your lungs.” Qakisst’s reminder of their argument on Sunday looked sure to start another round of feuding between then. “I do not expect you to like Laure, Korva; but you will pay her at least the respect of trying to be civil. That means apologizing.”

“And if she refuses to accept it?”

“Then you will have proven yourself the better person and can be all smug and self-assured. You can even rub my face in it later.” Qakisst looked up at Korva. “But if she accepts, you will do me the honor of at least being polite to her.”

“If I have too.” Korva seemed ready to growl, but held her temper.

“It is what any proper Chelish woman would do.”

“Bastard.”

“Yes I am, and that is one of the many reasons I do not judge others.” Qakisst’s all too serious reply to Korva’s half friendly barb caught her by surprise. “You have only known me since Liandra adopted me; and really only the ten years since I came to Sandpoint, Korva. Did you honestly think that Liandra adopted me because I had some wonderful storybook life before that? No, you have gotten to share all the shiny wonderful parts of my life.” Korva started to interrupt him, but Qakisst continued, “Yes, you were here during the Troubles. That was pretty rough; but that was one moment in my life. Before Liandra, it was pretty much all like that. I am going to go dance now. Remind me later to tell you what it is like to be hog tied on a bond fire by an angry mob.” Korva stared wide eyed at her friend, as Qakisst stepped out to find a partner.

Qakisst left Korva standing near the Dagger Toss with Savah looking after him as he walked across the square to dance. Korva still seemed to be fuming, but held her tongue, as Qakisst crossed the square and gave a polite bow to Sandpoint’s newest young darling. “My I have the pleasure, Sapphire?”

“Oh my!” Sapphire seemed a bit taken aback, but accepted Qakisst’s hand and he pulled her into the traditional Chelish waltz that was playing. “I did not know you were quite this light on your toes, Qwakisst?”

“First, it is Qakisst. With a sharp k sound; not Quakist with a kw sound. You will drive me nuts if you keep saying my name like I am a flaming poodle.” Qakisst raised an eyebrow for emphasis as he spun Sapphire about the dance floor. “You are very light on your feet, m’Lady.”

“A flaming poodle? Sapphire giggled slightly, “I don’t think I will ever get that image out of my head now.”

“I have probably done more harm than good, but a qwas is a small annoying animal not unlike a little dog that barks too much; and kisst is a brazier, hearth, or fire. So a qwakisst is a dog on fire, or a flaming poodle. Qa means heart and denotes something of importance to you; so Qakisst means heart of my hearth, hearth-heart, or...”

“So you have literally had everybody calling you the light of their lives all these years?” Sapphire grinned wickedly as she interrupted Qakisst’s explanation.

Qakisst nearly choked as he tried to keep from laughing, “Crmppp, he, heh, no. I was about to say, or fire-heart. Are you going to tell me Fire-Heart is not an appropriate name for me? He, heh… Damn it, you will have me giggling all evening now.”

“That’s what you get for making everybody call you the light of their lives all these years.” As she spoke, Qakisst led Sapphire off the dance floor next to Caleb as he continued to struggle to control his laughter.

“How about, he heh, you call me Kisst like everybody else.” Caleb looked at the pair with a bemused look as Qakisst stepped up and held Sapphire’s hand out to Caleb. “Your turn, Caleb.”

“I don’t think I should call you kiss. I’m not sure I am quite ready to go that far with you, Qakisst.” Sapphire released Qakisst’s hand and looked to Caleb with some expectation.

“I believe you already went that far with him at Thistletop, m’Lady.” Caleb grinned as he reminded Sapphire of Qakisst’s unexpected kiss after she had pulled him free of this very evening’s meal; the gigantic hermit crab that the Rusty Dragon had spent all day preparing as the centerpiece of tonight’s festival. Sapphire blushed at the unexpected reminder as Caleb and Qakisst laughed.

“Dance with the lady, Caleb. It will do you good.” Qakisst made his escape while Sapphire was still recovering from her momentary embarrassment and strode up to a group of Sandpoint’s eligible young ladies, “Chammady, may I have this dance?” Qakisst’s polite bow and broad smile overcame any reservations and he pulled his latest partner onto the dance floor.

Eventually Qakisst relented the dance floor and settled into an open bench seat to catch his own breath. More than a dozen times already this evening he had ushered a pretty young lady about the temple square to the music of different bards; and even he needed a moment to catch his breath.

“I hope you haven’t worn yourself out completely, Mr. Vishtani. You owe me a story about how the six of you had delivered a twenty stone crab to my kitchen door last night.” Lady Ameiko Kaijitsu placed her foot on the side of the bench and leaned over the back of it where she had quietly approached Qakisst. For a moment he froze and his mind lit up with fire.

“Neden bana hissettirmeden yanına sokulma üzerinde sen ısrar yok!?!” Qakisst gripped the edge of the bench to keep himself from running. “Ben yok; er, I do not, ah, have the words.” Qakisst’s heart raced like a thoroughbred through his chest and he turned to see the Dragon Lady perched right above him with a smile. “Biz keyifli bir deneyim dansını konuşmak edebilir? You owe me a dance, m, my Lady.”

“I do in fact owe you a dance, but I can listen and work. I cannot dance and work the way you seem to be able too. You will tell me all about it another time, then?” Ameiko gripped his shoulder briefly then returned to managing the Rusty Dragon’s service table while Qakisst struggled to control the fire in his mind.

“My turn to rescue you for once, Qakisst.” The delicate hand of Dawnflower Laranys gripped his and pulled Qakisst back into the square to dance. “I am sorry that I am rescuing you from your own embarrassment though.” Laranys gave him a sympathetic smile. “I have always noticed how you look at her. She is intimidating, isn’t she?”

“Can everybody see through me so easily?” Qakisst’s face turned a deep maroon as he blushed.

“I’m afraid so. You do seem to carry your heart on your sleeve.” Laranys smiled affectionately.

“Not always. But with her; it is like I am a three year old. Everybody can see right through me and I am petrified. I can speak only fire, and hear only the pounding of my heart. I am the unhuman bastard child of an outsider and she is a noble born lady; what chance could I possibly have?” Qakisst looked dejected even as he moved smoothly from one song to the next.

“Oh Qakisst; if you would quit seeing her with starry eyed worship you might just see that the real Ameiko is so much more interesting than the noble born lady you dream about. She has tattoos, swears worse than any sailor in Sandpoint, hangs out in a rowdy bar that she owns, and beat the snot out of her noble born father with a soup ladle.” Laranys smiled at Qakisst as she continued, “You say that you aren’t the judgmental type, yet you have judged yourself unworthy of the most open, and strait forward woman ever. Stop looking at her like she’s a Queen of Casmaron and see the woman that is actually waiting to see if you have the balls to chase after her.” The blunt statement from Laranys nearly floored Qakisst.

“Oh evet, it is just that simple. Stop looking at her like she is wonderful and you will stop stammering over the fire in your mind, Qakisst. Yes, I will remember that the next time I cannot get the words in my head to come to me in Taldan. I am not a gifted linguist, m’Lady. When Liandra found me I could not speak Varisi and could barely speak Taldan. I still think in the voice of fire; what you call Ignan. Look into the eyes of a person that has so captivated your heart and tell me that it is easy to translate your thoughts into a foreign tongue. I have a hard enough time speaking in Kelish when I am excited, and I grew up speaking that.”

“It is only the first step, my friend. But you need to take it if you are going to move forward.” The pair danced about Temple Square for a few more minutes until the current song ended and Qakisst found his hand being stolen away unexpectedly by an unlikely partner.

Sapphire gripped his hand and nodded to Laranys, “May I steel away your young ward for a moment?” Qakisst rolled his eyes.

“Certainly, m’Lady Sapphire.” Laranys smiled at them both. “Think sailor, Qakisst.” She raised her eyebrows and giggled as Qakisst glared back at her before he stepped back onto the dance floor.

“Is there any woman in this crowd you aren’t half in love with, Qakisst?” Sapphire looked quizzically at Qakisst as Laranys rejoined the crowd. “I saw you with your young friend in the yellow dress earlier, now you’re making time with lady Laranys.”

“I would more than make time with Dawnflower Laranys, were she not departing soon; except that I think she would be too embarrassed; unlike you.” Qakisst flexed his eyebrows for effect, “For a righteous and noble lady, you are a little unusual.” Qakisst wanted desperately to talk about anything but his own feelings. Fortunately for him, Sapphire seemed inclined to oblige.

“I am hardly noble born, and do you remember the noble that Tessa called a gasbag when we gave testimony on Sunday?” Sapphire’s choice of subject somewhat surprised Qakisst.

“Uh Yeah, Lord Titus Scarnetti. He is a bit brisk. His family owns the lumber and grain mills near town. The only competing mills have suffered from bad luck; to say the least.” Qakisst led them around the dance floor with ease. “What about Lord Scarnetti would have your curiosity?”

“He was asking me if I am familiar with a group of disreputable people called the Sczarni.” Qakisst nearly tripped over his own feet catching several people’s attention when Sapphire said Sczarni. “Whaaa, wow. After our earlier dance I thought you never miss-stepped on the dance floor, Qakisst.”

“Sorry.” Qakisst grimaced and diverted the pair to the steps of the Temple and pulled Sapphire clear of the dance before he spoke again. “See anybody around?” The bull horned ifrit looked every direction as he entered the open court of Sarenrae. In the distance he could hear whispers over the rowdy festival crowd.

“Um, no?” Sapphire looked around her with some alarm. “What is wrong with you?”

“You asked who the Sczarni are, in a rather public place.” Qakisst looked in the covered reliquary at the back of the court, showing an incredible level of paranoia that raised Sapphire’s eyebrows.

“Okay, who are the Sczarni?”

“I am.”

“What?”

“Well, kind of.” Qakisst continued to look around. “The Sczarni are a loose Varisi clan. Not simply family, more family and friends.” He stepped up close to Sapphire and lowered his voice to a barely perceptible whisper. I am friends with most of them.” Sapphire’s dubious expressing annoyed Qakisst enough that he stopped whispering. “Hey, they are not bad people. Well, most of them are not bad people. What group does not have a rotten egg in it? Anyway, they kind of miss the old days when all this area was the open wilds that the Varisi and Shoanti migrated through. So they have a habit of liking to prank the Gadjo, and occasionally lighten the purse of an overly pompous rich bastard; like your friend Master Scarnetti.”

Sapphire frowned at Qakisst, “Pickpockets.”

“Well?” Qakisst shrugged, “They have a bad habit or two, but Juby does not let them get out of hand. He takes care of them. Makes sure that they do not cause any real problems.” Qakisst turned to look at Sapphire directly. “What interest does Master Scarnetti have with the Sczarni?”

“He asked me if I could look into a problem that the sheriff does not seem able to handle. These Sczarni look like a problem.” Sapphire crossed her arms and gave Qakisst a serious look.

“No doubt they are to ol’ Titus. All the other mills in the area have burned to the ground, except his. I would not count Titus Scarnetti as a moral authority. The Sczarni are pranksters, and I will admit, occasionally street thieves. They are not hurting people and never target those that cannot manage. Not really something that a divine warrior of Iomedae really needs to concern herself with. Small potatoes.” Qakisst returned Sapphire’s serious look. “We really do not want to get into a street war with the Sczarni. We would have all of the Varisi against us in no time.”

“You don’t actually think that the Varisi would stick their neck out for a couple of street thieves; do you, Qakisst?”

“Yes, we will.” Qakisst sat down upon one of the benches around the edge of the temple. “Nothing pulls a family together like somebody seen to be picking on a member of the family.” Sapphire looked at Qakisst somewhat annoyed. “Look, Sapphire. You’ve spent the last week traipsing around with Caleb, Tessa, Athos, and I. We are Varisi. How bad can the Varisi be if you have been willing to trust us with your life? The Sczarni, they are simply our mischievous cousin.”

“Qakisst, I can’t just overlook lawbreakers.”

“Have you seen any Sczarni breaking the law?” Qakisst shrugged and started for the steps back down to temple square, “Do what you have to do Sapphire, but consider the source.”

Qakisst stepped out onto the top of the steps, scanned the crowd for a moment, and then found a dance partner. The young Shoanti girl seemed most eager to dance with him and he had to spin her about the roped off dance area three times before she became breathless. He steered the young lady over to the side where she could easily find a seat and bowed to her politely; then took three steps to join Nicu Kuza and Jubrayl Viski as they were talking to a couple of other friends. The four Sczarni clansmen paused just as Qakisst joined them before switching from their native Varisi tongue to Taldan to discussing the coming winter as though it were the only topic to be speaking about now.

“Hi guys.” Qakisst switched into Varisi and smiled broadly as the four turned to greet him. “How is the weather?” Qakisst’s dry comment about weather brought a slight chuckle to Jubrayl.

“Cousin Kisst! Oh you know how it is.” Qakisst frowned at Jubrayl as he went on, “Don’t be a sour puss, Kisst. You know full well that you are friends with the Sheriff’s nephew. We would never want to give you cause to have divided loyalty. We like you too much.”

“You know I would never say anything, Juby.” Qakisst’s pet name for Jubrayl brought a slight glower from him, though he let it go. “But I guess I can appreciate that you have my best interest at heart.”

“So what brings you our way, cousin? I saw you dancing with that warrior woman earlier. She’s interesting.” Jubrayl glanced past Qakisst to Sapphire across the square.

“Yeah, she’s quite a hottie, Kisst. How lucky have you been with her?” Nicu grinned at Qakisst, “As lucky as you are when we see you leaving the Dragon alone at night?”

Qakisst scoffed a laugh and smiled at Nicu, “Luckier than you are with lady Tessa.” The group laughed at Nicu as they realized that cousin Kisst had just managed what so few did; shutting Nicu’s overly boisterous mouth. “So, Juby, I just thought you might like to know; Master Scarnetti has been asking that warrior you seem so interested in if she could look into any Sczarni related problems around the docks.”

“Well that is a bit disheartening.” Jubrayl’s eyebrow ticked up a fraction. “And I imagine that she came to you as a local expert?”

“She came to me as a friend. I told her she would be better to consider the source than to waste her time trying to track down pranksters and the occasional street thief that might be keeping Titus up at night.”

“Did you actually call us thieves, Kisst?” Jubrayl looked shocked at such an accusation. His mock expression fooled nobody.

“Every group has its bad seeds Juby. And it is all too well known that members of the Sczarni clan have a disproportionate number of pick pockets and street thieves. You are responsible for your own reputations.” Qakisst looked around. “You make more than enough as a Harrow-shark to get by on. It is not like you would ever need to go digging in anybody’s pockets; right?” Smiling politely, “I will be back to play cards again sometime; but my dance card is full right now and you all know me.” Qakisst then shrugged as he turned to Nicu and slapped him on the shoulder, “You could just ask her out instead of stealing her ink well like a seven year old. I will catch you all later.”

As he walked away, Qakisst frowned. The Sczarni had helped him get through the worst parts of the last fifteen years and he knew he owed them a lot; but Liandra Vishtani had not raised a fool. Qakisst knew what Jubrayl and his gang did. He would try to deflect Sapphire, but he would not stop her if she decided to put an end to the petty ring of thieves Jubrayl ran. If the supposedly street smart Sczarni gang leader did not go to ground for a while Sheriff Hemlock just might get his mid-winter gift early; Jubrayl in a cell at last. As he walked away Qakisst thought, ‘Then who will I get to play Harrows?’

“You look tense, Sweetie?” The voice out of the crowd made his night. Somebody that wanted nothing more than to just spend time with him. Laure Vieskin held up a cup for him, “Buy you a drink, handsome?”

“If I did not know better, I would say that you are trying to take advantage of me.” Qakisst stepped up to Laure and accepted the cup of ale.

“I am trying to take advantage of you. Nobody else seems to realize how much fun it is.” Qakisst blushed at her statement, took a long drink, and then smiled.

“Last dance, I am about worn out.” They both set their cups aside and stepped on to the dance floor.

“Awwww. I have only gotten to dance with you once all evening with you running off here and there with everybody. And then Korva has been chasing me all over the square this evening. I even found you hanging out with your less reputable associates.” Laure smiled as she went through her list of complaints. “I would think you were conspiring to avoid me if I didn’t know better.”

“If I wanted to avoid you I would go down to the Kitten on Wealdays.” Qakisst smiled up at her as they moved, “I think it’s the only place nobody would ever look for me.”

“You do have a bit of a reputation as a prude. Okay, you did have a reputation as a prude.” Laure squeezed him tight until Qakisst grimaced in pain. “Hey now? What’s this?” She ran her finders under Qakisst’s vest along his sides and instead of a giggle she got another grimace. “Sweetie, you’re hurt!” Laure scowled at him as they moved around the dance.

“I will be fine. I just still have a little bruising from where your dinner tonight grabbed me and tried to crush me.” Qakisst nodded to the large series of tables that the Rusty Dragon had set up with tonight’s dinner. “I got my revenge too. It was very tasty.”

“But isn’t your dawnflower friend a full cleric? Surly she would heal you if you just asked.” Laure scowled at him as they danced.

“I get more sympathy out of you this way; and Sapphire did heal the breaks so I do not wish to bother Laranys. It really is just bruising now. I will be fine.” Qakisst grimaced slightly as she poked his ribs on the other side. “Stop it. People will think you are trying to undress me in Temple Square.”

Laure giggled. “That would put an end to your reputation as a sweet and innocent guy.”

“Too many people saw us go upstairs last week for me to be considered sweet and innocent.”

“Don’t worry about that. They just vilify me as an evil temptress.”

“You are an evil temptress.”

“I am a perfectly wonderful temptress.”

“Who sneaks into young men’s bedrooms at night?”

“Hey! I apologized.” Laure grinned broadly. “And even though it was stupid of me, it got you to finally talk to me.”

“I always talked to you.”

“Not like a person. You always talked to me like you were scared of me.”

“It was never you I was scared of; more just a reflex around non-Varisi girl’s whose father, brother, or cousin might be waiting to kick the crap out of me.”

“We aren’t all that bad.”

“No, but overly protective daddies and big brothers can be. Just ask the weird kid with the mask, Konnor. He has still got all of us on the shit list with Mr. Vender.” Qakisst gave her a quirky smile. “I wish your daddy were here to chase me off. Whoa, no, no. Not that I want run off. I just know how much it stinks not having parents.” Qakisst looked down at their feet a moment before looking up into her eyes. “I am sorry that I did not talk to you in school. I have been kind of hiding from the world; either at the old Black Deer, or in Savah’s Armory I think.”

“That’s okay. Before you completely come out of your shell and run off on me to have fun with everybody else; let’s go have some fun together.” Laure pulled Qakisst out of Temple Square, “Did you ever get your dance with the Dragon Lady? I saw you talking to her earlier.”

“No. She snuck off about an hour ago.” As the pair walked down the hill they were quiet. When they reached Qakisst’s cottage he turned to Laure. “Why do you not mind? I do not quite understand.”

“What is there to mind? Look, I know what I do for a living. I see the guys and gals that come into the Pixie looking for just a good time. If I’d waited, you would have eventually been among them because you don’t feel like you deserve to be happy or find love. Part of me feels that way too. Shush, I’m talking; but you know what? We all deserve to find love, we all deserve to be happy, and I had it pointed out to me recently that if I really actually do care I should be more worried about you being happy than my getting to keep you. I just hope you don’t mind if I hold on for a little bit longer. You know; from time to time.”

“So you are sure that I am just going to run off? Your friend Sister Giulia already warned me that she is watching me.”

“Are you going to run off on me?”

“I will always be your friend; and a little more.” Qakisst blushed. “Anything else I cannot say because I do not know. But ama adil adil, ah; fair is fair. I do not question who you sleep with so you do not get to question who I sleep with.”

“Not exactly fair. This is my job; you’re getting free service!”

“And I appreciate that. So what should I be charging if I become a pixie boy?”

“Brat!

“I am going to get a lot of crap for that, aren’t I?” Qakisst opened the door for her.

“Yes you are.”

“Belki; maybe I should stop you right now but I do not want too. And since I never want you to hate me...”

“Oh shut up and close the door.”

The Exchange

Oracle: The Waters of Dawn:

Qakisst walked through the dreaming city; a little less battered than before. It was hot. Hot enough that he could feel sweat pouring down his back. It was a strange sensation to him. He remembered the night before distantly, but now he walked through some grand palace. Ideas boiled through his mind like fire. He remembered staring into the ore bin yesterday and seeing things he had not even known existed. He remembered realizing that he could charge the spear with a simple spark and it would catalyze the fire-forge chemistry. These ideas had been like a hot fire in his mind. He remembered hearing a whisper all day. The sun whispering to him quietly all day, just beyond hearing. It was doing it now, faintly, distantly.

“NEDEN DÍN MÜZİĞİNDE DİNLEME EDİLMEMİŞTİR! BT DE BUNU ÇOK ŞEY VAR!” The voice of fire whispered into his ear. Fire licked across his body, pain shot through his mind. “<LISTEN!>”

“Ahhhhh!” Water dowsed the bed, jolting both Qakisst and Laure awake just before the rising sun. “Dokuz cehennemlerinde neler!?!”

“What the HELL!?!” Laure sat up soaked in water. “Qakisst what are you doing?” Qakisst looked at Laure with a bizarre expression.

“Laure, Ne dedin sen?” Laure looked at Qakisst in confusion.

“I don’t speak Kelish, remember, sweetie?” Qakisst looked around, then at Laure.

“Ne söylüyorsun? Ben cant'anlamak.” Qakisst began to look frightened as he stood up, water dripping off him like he had just drowned. “Ah, kafamda yanlış olan ne?”

“Stop it Q. This isn’t funny.” Laure rose to her feet angrily as Qakisst began to scramble around looking under the bed, pulling sheets off the bed, looking for anything that might explain what was wrong; why he could not find the words he needed to say. Water scattered around the room from the wet bedding.

In his head he could hear a voice speaking in fire. The voice of fire told him, ‘<Hearth-Heart; you need to listen. You are not listening.>’

“Kimin olduğunu söylüyor?” Qakisst rushed into the front of the cottage, through the kitchen, and back into the bedroom frantically trying to find the soft distant voice. “Laure, bunu duyamıyor!?!”

“You’re not pranking me, are you?” The panic on Qakisst’s face began to worry Laure, as she gathered up her clothes. “Ewww, my dress is soaked. This had better not be a prank, Quwakiss!”

Hearing something like his name, Qakisst spun to see Laure holding her clothes and looking extremely annoyed. “Seni cant'anlamak! Neden seni cant'anlamak?” He began to laugh; the laughter tinged with hysteria. “Vay benim Sarenrae, çok çok üzgünüm! Ben neler olup bittiği bilemiyorum.” Qakisst called up the little magics that he used day to day and Laure felt the brief tickle of magic cross her body while Qakisst continued to look about himself in confusion. The water shed from her dress and puddled to the floor at her feet, seeping into the cracks in the floorboards. The colors of the dress brightened as Laure watched Qakisst spinning around still searching the room for something.

“Sweetie? You’re kind of freaking me out.” She stepped back from the puddle on the floor and pulled her clothes on over her head. “Whatever is going on, I am going to get out of the way and let you handle it. Quwakiss? HEY!” Her shout caused Qakisst to spin and face Laure. She held up the painted wooden holy symbol he had received from Laranys, “Maybe you ought to see Father Zantus or Dawnflower Naffer? Maybe your friend Laranys?” Qakisst crossed the room, steam rolling off him as his naturally high temperature burned away the water that had soaked them both moments ago. He took the symbols from Laure and looked at her with fear in his eyes.

“Peder Zantus gidip görmek için söyleyip, sen değil.” He gripped her arms and smiled; then motioned to the door with his head. “Ben neler olup bittiğini bilemiyorum, ama sen tüm endişe gerekecek iseniz yardım edemez. Gidin.”

Once Laure had left, Qakisst grabbed his horns in frustration. “Ne dedin sen? Kahrolası, Bana neler gerçekleşiyor?” He heard words whisper into his head in reply.

A voice implored him, ‘<Hearth-heart, listen to the music of fire and learn.>’ More words came so fast he could not understand them. He called back up the little magics and stripped himself if grime and found cloths for the day then dressed himself. With a struggle, he unfocused his eyes and scanned the room in othersite. Nothing unexpected stood out. The only new thing he had was the bone wand, so he pulled it out and closely examined it. There were no hidden charms or alterations on it; only a simple abjuration. One at a time he went through the few magical items he had, nothing dark or sinister. Yet he could not get the words of fire out of his head. They came at him so fast, telling him so much that he could not think straight. When his eyes came back to the holy symbol that Laure had handed to him he grabbed it and went out the door with a purpose.

Qakisst stormed up the hill to Temple hoping to see somebody, anybody that could speak to him or understand him. He was fairly certain that he just could not focus well enough to find the words he wanted to say in Taldan or Varisi. He hoped desperately that somebody in the temple of Sarenrae would be able to speak in the voice of fire, what mortal men called Ignan. Or perhaps any of the scholars at temple will have picked up even a small amount of the language. As he entered the open courtyard dedicated to the redeemer the noise in his head exploded tenfold.

BURADA ÇOK ÇELIĞI KESKIN MÜBAREK PASLANMAYA BILMECE IYILEŞMESI BLÖFTÜ DUVAR KELIMELERDE METALDEKI SILAHINA YARALANMIŞ ÜTÜ GÖZDAĞI DEMIR HEYKELININ BANA ANKI USTALIK ARCANE'I AYGITI STABILIZE ETMEK DEVRE DIŞI BIRAKMA DINLEMEYE VIRSATILE DEĞERLENDIREBILECEK ONUN DANSI VIZYONU ZIRH OKUNABILIR KENARINA KURŞUN BINBAŞI CAN ÂYETLERI DEMIR OLUŞTURULMASI BIÇAĞI KÜR ISIYA EŞARP YA DA YARALARINA METAL IŞIK VÜCUT DERI MÜBAREK HEDIYESI PÜSKÜRTMEK SUYUN ÜTÜ ÇELIĞI BIÇAKLARINI DEMIR KAVRAMAK TAŞINI ARINDIRMAK NIYETLE SILAHLARIN ÜSTATLIĞIN ANAYASASININ GIDAMETALI OLUŞTURULMASI KALKANI VE IÇMEK “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhh!” Qakisst’s knees buckled under the onslaught of sound and fury. “Lütfen! Düşünüyorum edemez!”

“Blessed Redeemer!” Acolyte Rauno walked into the temple having heard a cry and froze for only a moment. “Cousin Kisst! What in the blessed morning?” The slightly more familiar sound of the Varisi tongue cracked through the noise and caught Qakisst like a life line.

“Zihnim! Ben açıkça düşünemiyorum. Qabir yangın kadar çok kelime!” Qakisst looked up, “Rauno, lütfen! Durdur! Ah, voices! Benim kafamda fire words!” The obviously distressed Qakisst gripped Rauno’s arm when he approached and there was silence.

“Az önce ne oldu?” Qakisst’s scared expression changed to one of bewilderment. In the distance he could just barely make out the faint speech of voices on fire. His mind raced to find words in any other language and struggled, barely able to even understand the most simple terms. Slowly he stood and let go of Rauno’s arm.

DEMIR HEYKELININ BANA ANKI USTALIK ARCANE'I AYGITI STABILIZE ETMEK DEVRE DIŞI BIRAKMA DINLEMEYE VIRSATILE DEĞERLENDIREBILECEK ONUN DANSI VIZYONU ZIRH OKUNABILIR KENARINA KURŞUN BINBAŞI CAN ÂYETLERI DEMIR OLUŞTURULMASI BIÇAĞI KÜR ISIYA EŞARP YA DA YARALARINA METAL IŞIK VÜCUT DERI MÜBAREK HEDIYESI PÜSKÜRTMEK SUYUN ÜTÜ ÇELIĞI BIÇAKLARINI DEMIR KAVRAMAK TAŞINI ARINDIRMAK NIYETLE SILAHLARIN ÜSTATLIĞIN ANAYASASININ GIDAMETALI OLUŞTURULMASI KALKANI VE IÇMEK BURADA ÇOK ÇELIĞI KESKIN MÜBAREK PASLANMAYA BILMECE IYILEŞMESI BLÖFTÜ DUVAR KELIMELERDE METALDEKI SILAHINA YARALANMIŞ ÜTÜ GÖZDAĞI

“GAH!!!” Qakisst crumpled under the renewed onslaught and grasped his head. Rauno tried to catch the boy, but he was not fast enough. Qakisst’s knees struck the marbled floor with a loud crack even as Rauno gripped Qakisst’s shoulders. The voices stopped once more as acolytes of Sandpoint’s many faiths began to gather in the court.

“Cousin please, let me help. Obviously something is not right.” Concern covered the expressions of the gathering temple staff.

“What is causing all this commotion? Is somebody hurt?” The Voice of Father Zantus filled the courtyard with the Taldan language as he strode quickly towards the commotion. “Qakisst? Oh my, you do not look at all well child.”

The acolytes stepped back from Qakisst to allow Father Zantus to approach but Qakisst immediately cried out in pain and dropped to his knees again clutching his head.

ONUN DANSI VIZYONU ZIRH OKUNABILIR KENARINA KURŞUN BINBAŞI CAN ÂYETLERI DEMIR OLUŞTURULMASI BIÇAĞI KÜR ISIYA EŞARP YA DA YARALARINA METAL IŞIK VÜCUT DERI MÜBAREK HEDIYESI PÜSKÜRTMEK SUYUN ÜTÜ ÇELIĞI BIÇAKLARINI DEMIR KAVRAMAK TAŞINI ARINDIRMAK NIYETLE SILAHLARIN ÜSTATLIĞIN ANAYASASININ GIDAMETALI OLUŞTURULMASI KALKANI VE IÇMEK BURADA ÇOK ÇELIĞI KESKIN MÜBAREK PASLANMAYA BILMECE IYILEŞMESI BLÖFTÜ DUVAR KELIMELERDE METALDEKI SILAHINA YARALANMIŞ ÜTÜ GÖZDAĞI DEMIR HEYKELININ BANA ANKI USTALIK ARCANE'I AYGITI STABILIZE ETMEK DEVRE DIŞI BIRAKMA DINLEMEYE VIRSATILE DEĞERLENDIREBILECEK

Immediately the acolytes gripped Qakisst’s arms to help him up and the voices faded into the distance. “Tanrıçası, tekrar gitmek lütfen lütfen izin vermeyin!” He shook his head and took a deep breath; but still Qakisst could not quite wrap his mind around the common Taldan tongue of Father Zantus, and he could barely follow the Varisi mumbles he could hear in the background. “Ben gah, I kelimeleri bulamıyorum.”

“I think you best come with me, Qakisst!” Father Zantus turned to lead Qakisst towards his office until he realized the confused and lost expression on the boy’s face meant that he not only could not seem to speak clearly, but could not understand anybody either. He held out a hand and motioned towards the Temple offices. Qakisst took the Father’s hand and stepped forward. As the acolytes stepped away the voices came screaming back.

ÇELIĞI BIÇAKLARINI DEMIR KAVRAMAK TAŞINI ARINDIRMAK NIYETLE SILAHLARIN ÜSTATLIĞIN ANAYASASININ GIDAMETALI OLUŞTURULMASI KALKANI VE IÇMEK BURADA ÇOK ÇELIĞI KESKIN MÜBAREK PASLANMAYA BILMECE IYILEŞMESI BLÖFTÜ DUVAR KELIMELERDE METALDEKI SILAHINA YARALANMIŞ ÜTÜ GÖZDAĞI DEMIR HEYKELININ BANA ANKI USTALIK ARCANE'I AYGITI STABILIZE ETMEK DEVRE DIŞI BIRAKMA DINLEMEYE VIRSATILE DEĞERLENDIREBILECEK ONUN DANSI VIZYONU ZIRH OKUNABILIR KENARINA KURŞUN BINBAŞI CAN ÂYETLERI DEMIR OLUŞTURULMASI BIÇAĞI KÜR ISIYA EŞARP YA DA YARALARINA METAL IŞIK VÜCUT DERI MÜBAREK HEDIYESI PÜSKÜRTMEK SUYUN ÜTÜ

“GAHHH!” The unexpected noise in his head brought Qakisst to his knees yet again. The initiates of Sarenrae rushed forward to help him once again and the voices faded into the background. Still there, but no longer overwhelming. “Ben anlayamıyorum; neden bu bana da oluyor?” The obvious distress in Qakisst’s voice drew his fellow worshipers of Sarenrae closer to him as they helped him up.

Father Zantus frowned then turned to Rauno, “Acolyte Rauno, I think we will need at least you to help Qakisst into my office. I do not know if this has something to do with the Dawnflower or the Varisi; but as you are both her acolyte and Varisi please help Qakisst to my office.” The Father turned to the other acolytes, “Please send somebody to find Dawnflower Vosk. He is the senior cleric of Sarenrae; I hope that he can help me figure this out.”

The other acolytes scattered to find Naffer Vosk as quickly as possible, as Father Zantus led Qakisst and Rauno to his office. As the pair left the court of Sarenrae the voices faded even further into the distance. Qakisst stopped and looked back, “O tıkalı? O… It… tikalai? Kelimesinin ne kadardir? St… stopped? It stopped?” He struggled to speak in Varisi with little success.

“What was that, Qakisst? What stopped?” The acolyte held Qakisst by the elbow as they paused. “Father Zantus. I do not think he is just speaking in tongues. I think it is a language, and he can’t quite figure out how to say things in a more common tongue.

“Is he speaking Varisi now?” Father Zantus stopped to watch the two.

“I think he is trying. Cousin Kisst did spend a long time traveling with Liandra before her passing.” Qakisst looked confused as the two clergy spoke. “Perhaps it is just more familiar to him.”

“Please, see if you can get him to come sit in my office. I see Naffer coming now.” Father Zantus continued on to his office, leading the pair along.

“Cousin? Can you hear me? Can you tell what I’m saying?” Rauno looked Qakisst in the eye as the slowly followed Father Zantus.

“Ben cant'anlamak. Lütfen yavaşlatmak.” Qakisst scrunched his face in concentration trying to find words in his cluttered mind, “Uh sl… slow… slower, lütfen grrrrr. Slower pl… plea… pleasant?”

“S-l-o-w-e-r - p-l-e-a-s-e?”

“Evet! Please!” The brief moment of cognition sent a surge of relief through Qakisst. The two of them made their way to Father Zantus’ office. After a brief try at letting Qakisst go, Rauno quickly found the young ifrit clinging to him. While not as overwhelming as it had been in the temple courtyard, the voices came back as soon as the young dawnflower acolyte released him.

When Naffer Vosk arrived with the other dawnflower acolytes a little experimentation showed that as long as any dawnflower were in contact with him, Qakisst could bear the unheard sounds flooding his head with information. Almost like a dampener on a furnace or the breaks on a wagon. Unrestrained the voices crashed through his mind like a vengeful spirit but contact with a dawnflower restricted the deluge. A careful examination of Qakisst showed no unusual magics about him; no mortal spellcraft or curse. Not even divine magics, and yet Father Zantus was sure that there was some form of curse at work.

With some effort Qakisst was able to explain slowly, through Rauno and Naffer, in Varisi that the voices were loudest in the Court of the Sarenrae, and that it was voices; not a single voice, and certainly not just noise. It almost seemed to Dawnflower Vosk that his acolytes were acting like a distraction to the voices when they were in contact with Qakisst; like the goddess had sent spirits to tell him many things, but there were so many of them that they seemed to be gathered around shouting at Qakisst. Each voice wanting to be heard; like being in a crowded room and everybody is shouting at once. But when any of the dawnflower clergy touched him the voices backed off, showing difference to their mortal counterparts.

All clergy heard the voices of their deity or that deity’s messengers from time to time. Most of the time they would not even realize that the god or messenger was speaking to them, but when a god wanted their message heard it could be brutal. That Qakisst was not a native speaker seemed to be complicating the problem. Messengers from the gods commonly spoke to you in your native language. With so many of them speaking to him, Qakisst simply could not focus on doing what native speakers did not have to do; translating his thoughts so others could understand.

“Rauno, I want you to escort Qakisst down to Master Gandethus at Turandarok.” Father Zantus finally had an idea of what to do. “I believe that the headmaster has a comprehension spell in his repertoire, and might be able to help Qakisst communicate. Then, if he needs to come back here, we will be better able to understand and help.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to simply summon Ilsoari here?” Naffer looked at the Father with a raised eyebrow.

“These voices are loudest in the Court, and I believe louder the closer Qakisst is to it. A bit of time away from here might help give him some respite while we help figure out why the Goddess has sent so many agents to speak to him.” Father Zantus looked at Qakisst and spoke slowly and clearly. “Do you understand what we want you to do?”

“Usta Gandethus?” Qakisst smiled with some understanding. Master Gandethus had found him the teacher that had taught him to write in fire. To his knowledge only Simon Korvut had ever tried to learn the language among Sandpoint’s residents, but if anybody else had Master Gandethus would know who it was.

Rauno walked Qakisst out to the temple steps where Qakisst stopped him. “Sen burada kal, ben düşünüyorum.” As Rauno watched; Qakisst stepped back from him off the temple steps. The voices came back, but they did not overwhelm him.

Çeliği biçaklarini demir kavramak taşini arindirmak niyetle silahlarin üstatliğin anayasasinin gidametali oluşturulmasi kalkani ve içmek burada çok çeliği keskin mübarek paslanmaya bilmece iyileşmesi blöftü duvar kelimelerde metaldeki silahina yaralanmiş ütü gözdaği demir heykelinin bana anki ustalik arcane'i aygiti stabilize etmek devre dişi birakma dinlemeye virsatile değerlendirebilecek onun dansi vizyonu zirh okunabilir kenarina kurşun binbaşi can âyetleri demir oluşturulmasi biçaği kür isiya eşarp ya da yaralarina metal işik vücut deri mübarek hediyesi püskürtmek suyun ütü

“Ben iyiyimdir. Onu iyidir.” Qakisst motioned for Rauno to go back into temple. “Ben fine. I am fine.”

“No way, Kisst. I am not leaving you alone.” Rauno gave Qakisst some space, but dogged him all the way down to Turandarok. It was nearly mid-morning before the two arrived at the school. Qakisst had insisted on walking past Sandpoint Savories when his nose caught a whiff of fresh bread and his stomach complained loud enough to drown out the apparently heavenly host haunting him.

Qakisst made like he had lost his voice and simply pointed at a couple of pastries. Rauno covered for him and made Qakisst buy him one as well. Qakisst then held his arms up as to dance and pointed from Aneka and Arika Avertin to himself and smiled.

“I think he wants you to both come dance with him some time.” Rauno rolled his eyes at Qakisst.

Both girls giggled slightly then replied, “Maybe after you get your voice back, Q.”

Qakisst continued on to Turandarok as Rauno berated him while the walked. “You’re ridiculous, Kisst. Goddess knows how many celestial messengers are trying to reach you and you’re flirting with the Avertin twins. Are you trying to get every eligible girl into a bed or something?”

Qakisst motioned to his ears with his hands and frowned. How much he understood, Rauno did not know.

“Yeah, whatever. Half the young ladies in Sandpoint are chasing you around the dance floor right now but you want more.” The two walked up the steps to Turandarok and headed for the headmaster’s office. They had to wait a moment but once he had been alerted, Master Gandethus soon arrived.

“An escort, Qakisst. You haven’t needed an escort in some time. Rauno, you can return to temple I believe.” Gandethus dismissed the young acolyte with little thought.

“I think it is best I stay close by, sir. Cousin Kisst is having some communication problems.” Rauno declined to depart.

“Qakisst?”

As Gandethus looked at him, Qakisst gestured to his ears and pantomimed speech, then shrugged as he spoke. “Üzgünüm, efendim. Ben ateşe bir şey ama cant'anlamak. Ben gerçekten neler olup bittiğini bilmiyorum ve ben kelimeleri bulmak için görünmüyor olabilir.”

“Oh my. I haven’t heard that in some time. Not since… Never mind that. Both of you come in here. Rauno do you speak Ignan?” Gandethus led the two into his small office.

“No sir, he seems to have an easier time understanding Varisi, but even that is very difficult.”

Gandethus smoothly changed languages with little thought, “Please try to explain to Qakisst that I will need a moment with my books to find the right spell. I don’t have a scroll, and I am not sure he could use it right now, so I can’t do too much to help him understand us but I can make it so I can understand him. You and I shall have to hope that his Varisi is up to the task.” Master Gandethus pulled out several large tomes, sifted through them all until he found the spell he was looking for. It took the elder mage several minutes to ready himself before he finally cast the spell. “Ufahamu.”

Qakisst recognized the comprehension spell and he started at once, “<Blessed goddess, I can’t stop the fire in my mind! Voices yelling at me in my head and I can’t think straight. Please, you have to help me make them stop! I can’t stand it much more!>” Qakisst’s exasperation was obvious.

“I don’t know exactly what to do yet, but we will figure this out, Qakisst.” Qakisst looked confused as he tried to follow Gandethus’ speech. “Tell me when it started.”

“<What? When it started? The voices?>” Gandethus nodded. “<This morning. I was having a dream about a city in the sky. It was hot, really hot. Suddenly we were soaked in water and awake. When I woke up, I could not understand anybody, but the voices, I could hear them like they were whispering to me from just out of sight.” Qakisst flopped his face into his hands as he took a deep breath.

“Let’s start with we. Who were you with this morning?”

“<I don’t understand.>”

Master Gandethus looked at Qakisst, motioned for him to take a deep breath and demonstrated what he wished Qakisst to do. Qakisst inhaled deeply as Gandethus spoke slowly, “I need to know who was with you when you awoke this morning.”

Qakisst carefully watched his former teacher speak before he replied, “<With?>”

“Yes, who were you with.”

Qakisst blushed, “Laure Vieskin.”

“And is Ms. Vieskin having any troubles communicating?”

“<What? I… I don’t understand.>”

“Ms. Vieskin?” Gandethus mimed a speaking action with his hand.

“<Oh. Is Laure able to speak? I don’t know. I could not understand her and she could not understand me. She handed me this though and pointed up the hill like she wanted me to go to temple. And she did not show up herself later.”

“Rauno, I need you to go to Ms. Vieskin’s apartment. She is sharing a room with Gretchen upstairs at Ms Tesarani’s house over on Raven Street I believe.”

“But sir, I…”

“I think we can get along that long without you. We do not seem to be in any danger here; and I need to know if Ms. Vieskin is suffering from a similar affliction or if this is unique to Qakisst.” Gandethus smiled, “Be quick though. I prefer not to wait any longer than required.”

Once Rauno had left Gandethus looked at Qakisst with a serious but friendly smile. “I need you to relax as much as possible. Take a deep breath and relax. We are going to do some basic spell casting lessons. Relax Qakisst. Relax and breathe. Concentrate.” Gandethus placed a cup upon the desk and looked at Qakisst. “Fill it for me, please.”

“<I don’t understand. Fill it? With what?”

“Water. Fill it just like you did this morning.”

“<I don’t know that word. What is that word? How do I translate> water < into… WATER? But I can’t create water?>” Qakisst sat up straight with a start when he realized what Master Gandethus was asking. That was something many clerics could do. It was a divine art that only the rarest and most powerful of arcane casters could ever learn; and most never bothered.

“I think you can, Qakisst.” Master Gandethus spoke in a calm and steady voice as he reached across the desk and grasped Qakisst’s hands. “Take a deep breath, slowly exhale, and relax. Concentration is always key.” Qakisst recognized the focus exercises from his school days and took a deep breath.

“<But Master Gandethus, I can’t.>”

“You can. You did it this morning. I know Ms. Vieskin has a love of adventure, but she has no such gifts. She is smart, and very pretty. She is capable of far more than she realizes, but magic was never her forte. You created the water this morning. Now listen to the voices in your mind, listen for the one that is telling you how to fill the cup. Listen, relax, and focus. Relax.” Qakisst sighed as Master Gandethus spoke; then took a deep breath as he had been instructed, and focused on the cup.

It was too small for all the water there had been this morning. ‘That’s okay’, an unheard voice whispered. Qakisst’s eyes unfocused and rolled up in his head. He felt the cup in his mind and water appeared in the bottom; slowly filling it just to the brim. Qakisst’s eyes refocused on the cup and he shot back out of his chair to slam against the wall behind him. He had felt it. This wasn’t a trick. He knew what magic felt like and this magic had flowed through him into the cup.

Qakisst stared a long time at the cup. He could not really hear Master Gandethus praising his good first effort. He was remembering the dreams. All these years he had dreamed of the goddess, in her city in the sky. She spoke to him, comforted him, and even loved him in a way that she did not love most people. It was not a greater love, or a stronger love. No, the Dawnflower loved everybody equally. It was just a different love. She loved him as one of her servants in this world. He had felt the power work through him. She could reach into this world through him and make it a better place.

The Exchange

The Oracle of Sandpoint:

“Qakisst? Are you all right my boy?” Master Gandethus had come around the desk to stand next to him. He took the younger man’s hands from the wall and led him back to his seat before returning to his. “Qakisst, please look at me.” Qakisst could not understand him, but looked anyway at the voice. “I do not yet know if this means that you have a divine gift, or simply a different gift; but we will figure this out. You do not need to fear.”

Qakisst’s mind focused on the words ‘divine gift’. He felt it. A channel to someplace else. Warm and comforting. Not like fire, that could be brutal and hungry, but the warmth of the sun. As Master Gandethus spoke Qakisst ran his fingers along the fading bruises under his vest. He felt a twinge and remembered the dream. The goddess herself had asked him why he had not healed himself. He focused on the voices and felt the power soak into him. Master Gandethus went silent as the soft white glow of life flowed into Qakisst’s hands where he touched his ribs, and the bruising faded. There was no pain.

“I can heal.” The flat statement in the Varisi tongue made Gandethus blink.

“So you can. I think that explains the source of your new abilities.” Gandethus gave him an inquisitive smile.

“<Sir? I didn’t understand most of that.>” The brief lucidity of Qakisst’s tongue fled as the voices in his mind and heart grew louder, but there seemed to be fewer of them. “<I still hear the voices of fire, but they are different. Louder, but there are fewer of them.>”

Gandethus took a deep breath, and motioned for Qakisst to do the same. “The more relaxed you are, the easier it will be for you to think clearly. And I believe to understand us. Relax, Qakisst. Bards can heal with arcane energy. Perhaps you have a rogue gift.”

Qakisst breathed in and out in a steady rhythm, quietly trying to regain some calm. His Father, for all his faults, had been a powerful sorcerer. His mother had been a fire born genie. What little he knew of his family history was dotted with arcane power and elemental nature; but there had never been a cleric save his adopted brother Benjamin. And how could the goddess possibly consider him a worthy cleric. He was hot headed, brash, and reactionary. Nobody with half a brain would ever come to him for sage advice. But he had felt it; the connection had been real. This was not some mystic music of the spheres, or strange arcane gift.

Qakisst took another deep breath to try and calm himself as Master Gandethus slowly talked to him in what was gibberish to him right now. A light tap on the door and Qakisst was on his feet like a startled cat in a room full of goblins. Rauno poked his head in the door. “I woke Ms. Vieskin. She was not happy, but she was perfectly lucid and spoke clear Taldan. I also now know five or six words I had not even realized existed.” Rauno smiled at Qakisst, “She says you are taking her to the theater this Fireday for this, Kisst.”

“Ever the way with words, Ms. Vieskin. Now that you’re back, Rauno; let us take young Mr. Vishtani back up to temple and tell them what we have discovered. Gandethus stood up and stepped around the desk taking Qakisst by the arm. “Slow, deep breaths, dear boy. Relax. This is all a good thing, I think.”

Rauno stepped back into the hallway and held the door open for the two of them, “We’ve discovered something?” Rauno looked confused as Qakisst stopped to wait as Gandethus locked his office. “Cousin?” Qakisst turned to him and smiled faintly.

“Ben tanrıça çılgın olabilir düşünmek.”

“Qakisst Vishtani, that is hardly appropriate; truthful or not.” Master Gandethus raised an eyebrow as he looked at Qakisst. Qakisst giggled. “It seems he understood at least that much.”

“What did he say, sir?”

“Nothing the Dawnflower would want me to repeat. Don’t worry; I doubt very much that she believes Qakisst doubts her sanity.” As the three left Turandarok Master Gandethus smiled and Rauno gave Qakisst a dirty look.

“Cousin, you should know better.”

“Seni zar zor anlayabiliyorum ve konuşan bile zordur; ama şifa ile hediyeleri beni? Birileri çılgın ve ben o ben değilim olduğunu korkuyorum. GAHHHHHH! Bana olması gerekir! It m… must be bana, uh… me.” Qakisst glared at Rauno making a twirling motion around his ear with one hand.

“Let him be, Rauno. He is right to have doubt. How can faith grow in a fallow mind? I feel his has been tilled quite a lot by the Dawnflower or her agents.” Master Gandethus led them up Main Street past the Garrison.

“Master Gandethus, I understand that Kisst is under a little pressure right now, but flippant disrespect for the Dawnflower is hardly appropriate.” As Rauno voiced his complaints Qakisst raised his right arm gesturing towards the young acolyte. Water cascaded from thin air soaking the boy and his vestments. “GAH! What!? Did!? You!? Just…” Qakisst smiled as Rauno’s jaw dropped open with realization.

“Don’ – be – a - ıslak bir – uh wet – blanket.” Qakisst stumbled over the words.

“No water fights, boys.” Master Gandethus struggled not to laugh as the trio approached Junker’s way.

“But he just…”

“Cast an orison? Yes, I think he might have done just that. I believe he can also cast minor curative spells too.”

“HEY, Hey Qakisst! Wait up!” The three stopped to see Pavo Korbit chasing after them from Garrison. Qakisst paled, seeing his friend and looked at Master Gandethus in near panic. “Hey Rauno, what happened to you?” Pavo’s Taldan speech rolled off Qakisst’s mind without any understanding.

“Mr. Rauno Varisipen seems to have annoyed a fellow divine caster. Walk along with us please, Mr. Korvut. Don’t mind Qakisst’s silence. He’s having a bit of difficulty of his own.” Master Gandethus turned up Junker’s way toward Temple Square.

“Kisst, are you okay?” Pavo walked alongside his friend; Qakisst shrugged. “Um, did I do something wrong?”

“Rest assured, Pavo; you have done nothing wrong today. I do not think Qakisst can understand you very well. He is having some difficulty understanding Varisi, and considerably more understanding your Taldan speech.

“Understa… What? Is it serious?” Pavo looked back and forth between Qakisst and Master Gandethus.

“Only if you don’t want to get wet.” Rauno groused as they walked. Qakisst pointed at him again and water cascaded over the young Varisi acolyte. “QAKISST!”

Gandethus glowered at Qakisst and spoke in a slow Varisi, “Stop showing off, Qakisst.”

“Efendim Evet.” Qakisst grinned a wicked grin.

“I am going to get you back, cousin.” Rauno wrung water from his robes with a scowl that barely hid a laugh.

The three finally paused when they realized that Pavo had stopped in the street. “Um…” Pavo stared at the three of them. “Isn’t that a cleric’s gift?”

“Yes.” Master Gandethus motioned with his head up the street. “I am glad that you have paid attention all these years. Most people can’t figure out the difference between divine and arcane talents.”

“But…”

“Will you please dry my clothes, Kisst.” Rauno groused in Varisi. “You had your fun.”

Qakisst looked puzzled at the conversation around him until he saw Rauno holding out the edges of his robe and scowling. “Para cezası!” He called up the little magics and set them to drying out Rauno’s clothes.

“But…”

“Please keep this quiet for now, Mr. Korvit. Mr. Vishtani is still trying to figure out what is going on with his abilities.

The four of them arrived at the temple and Qakisst turned to Pavo. “Ben iy okay. I am okay.” He gestured up the road to the White Deer and smiled. “Benim için herkesin merhaba demek. Um, Benim…”

“Qakisst says to say hello to everybody at the White Deer for him, Pavo.” Master Gandethus smiled and placed his hand on Qakisst’s shoulder. Pavo’s worried expression held them a moment. “Do not worry my boy. We are well on our way to figuring this out. We know Qakisst has a new gift of some kind; that’s the first step. Go on. We need to get in to see Father Zantus and Dawnflower Vosk.”

Pavo backed away watching for a moment before turning up Church Street. As he left the three turned to the steps of the temple and Qakisst froze. “I will get revenge later, Kisst. But for now, come on. Let’s get you sorted.” Rauno took Qakisst’s elbow and urged him forward. “I’ve been wet before and I’ll live.” The sound of the distant whispering ticked up a notch, but was not unbearable while Rauno held Qakisst by the elbow.

“Something I should know?” Master Gandethus watched carefully as they entered the temple.

“When we found him in the open courtyard this morning he was on his knees clutching his head because of the voices. But as soon as any dawnflower touched him, the screaming apparently stopped; or died down to a low whisper. Nobody else can hear it, but the effect is obvious. And it is only the touch of a dawnflower that calms it. It is apparently strongest in the open court of Sarenrae.”

“That pretty much confirms that the messengers speaking only to him are from her.”

“How so?”

“They are deferring to her mortal followers.” Master Gandethus knocked on Father Zantus’ door when they arrived. From up the hall one of Qakisst’s fellow adventurers hailed them.

“Hey Qakisst. What’s up?” Konnor Elvenson had removed his mask since returning to Sandpoint, but still carried it with him.

“Uh,… Biz meşgul Söyle ona!” Qakisst looked at Master Gandethus with a bit of panic in his eyes as Father Zantus opened his office door.

“Busy doing what? Oh, Neler yapmakla meşguldü?” The group stopped and looked at Konnor. Qakisst’s mouth hung open with total shock. Father Zantus looked out the door to see Konnor joining the group.

“My boy, did you just speak Ignan?” Master Gandethus smiled larger than life. “Excellent! Come with us.”

“What? Why?” Konnor looked confused and a bit suspicious.

“Because at the moment, that is the only language Qakisst can completely understand.” Gandethus motioned Konnor over to join them. “I can cast the comprehension spell, but not the tongues spell. It is a bit difficult to ask the boy questions when he can barely understand us even if I can understand him.”

“Oh, so you need me to translate. Okay; I guess I can do Q a solid.” The five of them squeezed into Father Zantus’ office. Qakisst looked practically terrified of the idea that he might only be able to understand Konnor the rest of his life.

With some discomfort for Qakisst, the five of them managed to muddle through Qakisst’s unexpected linguistic difficulty. Konnor only needed one warning that Master Gandethus could understand everything Konnor told Qakisst to convince the roguish young man that this was not a time for friendly pranks. Within a few minutes Naffer Vosk rejoined then and dismissed acolyte Rauno due to a lack of space.

While Qakisst had been down at Turandarok struggling to be understood, Father Zantus, Naffer, and a few of his acolytes had not been wasting time either. A quick search through the temple’s meager library was all it took for the clerical staff to find information on a hand full of oracles that have appeared from time to time. The books available described these oracles as people granted a divine gift inexplicably; without the years of training most clerics went through. Such gifts came with a price though. The oracle Sumali Zurastos was described as blind, but able to see in total darkness. Anna Brubeziki, an oracle from Korvosa could speak in to spirits, but they plagued her constantly. Jezzibe Harkera from Cheliax suffered a terrible wasting disease of the skin that could not be cured, and yet was immune to all other diseases. Each of them and more suffered some form of affliction in exchange for divine gifts, including the gift of casting select clerical spells at will.

Hearing about Jezzibe made Qakisst cringe. While not particularly vain, Qakisst was well aware of his good looks and the thought of his skin pealing and cracking as described in Jezzibe’s biography had his own skin crawling. But it was the description for the oracle Elanna vanKarskin that caught everybody’s attention. During her life she suffered from unexpected periods where she would speak in tongues. Beginning in her early teens she began speaking for extended periods in the Celestial language. In her later years she would speak both Celestial and Abyssal when under stress; and in times of extreme stress would find it impossible to speak anything else.

“I believe we have found what is afflicting you, my boy.” Master Gandethus gave him a sympathetic smile as Konnor translated for Qakisst. “As you become more familiar with your newfound talents you will find it easier to manage and to speak. And our lessons this morning on relaxing and concentrating seem to be on the right path.

“<But why me? I’m not that zealous in my faith, or particularly wise and understanding. Why would Sarenrae chose me?>” Qakisst looked about ready to run for the hills to hide, but held to his seat in the small office. It was Father Zantus who answered his question.

“I would think for the reason that you are not overly zealous.” Konnor continued to translate for the others as Father Zantus explained.

“<I don’t understand.>”

“You believe in the gods, but also have no preconceptions. Qakisst, clerics struggle their whole lives to pass on the message of their chosen patron; but we draw those messages from dusty old tomes and tend to choose a patron that closely matches our beliefs. It can sometimes be difficult to separate our own desires and beliefs from the quiet messages we receive in much the same way you are now; that is how so many clergy come to fall from grace. The gods do not choose us; they accept us as devotees as long as we remain true to the message. While you are a follower and believer; you are not a devotee. You are simply a faithful believer with no agenda of your own, no preconceptions of what is expected of you, and no formal teaching of what is required of the Dawnflower’s clergy. You are a blank slate through which she can send her message. The Dawnflower knows your heart and trusts you with her power. It is quite an honor; even if an undesired honor.”

Naffer grinned at Qakisst and shook his head, “Who would have thought that you would be touched, cousin Kisst. Liandra truly had a way of picking ‘em.”

Konnor found translating rather tedious and finally cracked under pressure to have just a little fun, “<Naffer say’s you must be crazy, like one of those old crackpots that hides out in caves.>”

“<What? He said something about Momma Liandra.>” Qakisst snarled at Konnor.

“Konnor, behave yourself.” Master Gandethus scowled at him.

“Sorry. <He said nobody could have guessed you would be god-touched; your mother must have had a gift to adopt you. But this still makes you even more of a freak, and I’m going to start charging for translation services after this.>”

“I h-a-t-e you.” Qakisst struggled to reply in Varisi as he glared at Konnor.

“What he say?” Konnor looked startled when he could not understand Varisi speech.

“He is just expressing his appreciation for your efforts, Konnor. Now behave. Ah, Qakisst?” As Master Gandethus spoke Qakisst stood. As he did so, the young ifrit’s stomach grumbled about the lack of attention paid to it this morning.

“Ben, ah… I – need – some time. Ve yiyecek.” He gripped his stomach as it grumbled again.

“He’s hungry.”

“Ben Eskimiş Ejderha olacak.”

“What’s he…”

“He wants to go to the Rusty Dragon. Konnor, I think you can escort young Qakisst there without difficulty.”

“What if he doesn’t want to come back?” Konnor looked at Master Gandethus and the two clergy as Qakisst opened the door to find a pack of acolytes scattering in all directions.

“Then he won’t come back. Oracles are apparently very willful people. Qakisst is more than qualified in that.” Master Gandethus stood to follow. “Just please let us know if he has any problems.”

“This is a great day for Sandpoint.” Naffer Vosk clapped his hands together after the two youngsters had left the office. “The Redeemer has sent us a messenger.”

“Do remember that oracles tend to appear just before bad things happen, Naffer. People suffer whenever an oracle appears; or the gods would not need to so forcefully share their gifts.” Father Zantus watched out his door as Konnor chased after Qakisst. “And this time they gave the gift to somebody already quite powerful.”

As Qakisst skirted the outside of the open court the voices in his head flooded his hearing. He did his best to push them out of his mind long enough to get clear of the temple where there would be some level of quiet. He was vaguely aware of Konnor chasing after him and shouting for him to wait up. Qakisst stopped once he had stepped off the consecrated grounds of the temple where the voices were just low enough to be tolerated.

“<How in the name of heaven and abyss did I get stuck with you as my translator? Surly somebody else in Sandpoint can speak in the voice of fire!>”

“<In the voice of what? It is called Ignan, and you’re lucky I found those study books at the Curious Goblin, or you’d still be trying to understand ol’ Gandethus doing pantomime.>”

“<Ignan is a made up word for people who are not native speakers of fire; and are you telling me you learned this from a book?>” Qakisst stomped down the hill to his cottage, “<You don’t learn languages from a book! Somebody has to teach you how to pronounce things. No wonder you sound like a retarded ape.>”

“<HEY! I don’t have to help you, you know. Why in the nine hells don’t you trust me?>”

“<Why? Cause I don’t know you! I know nothing about you! You hide behind that mask and show nothing of yourself, you don’t show us any trust or respect, and you practically demand we trust you when you won’t even tell us who you really are. Why in the infinite abyss would anybody trust you!?!>” Qakisst unlocked his door and threw it open hard as he walked in.

Konnor fumed at the door to Qakisst’s cottage, “<What the f*%% did I ever do to you?! I’m not even wearing the mask right now. Sheriff Hemlock won’t let me wear it in town!>”

“<Not that mask, that mask.>” Qakisst pointed directly at Konnor’s face. “<Who are you? I bet Konnor isn’t even your real name.>” Qakisst stomped into the back room and started slamming through his closet. “<How is anybody supposed to trust you when you can’t even be honest enough about who you are? Who are you, Konnor? And why is it you never told me you could speak in the voice of fire?>”

“<Nobody asked? Honestly, I did not even realize you did. Now all your stuttering makes more sense.>”

“<I DO NOT STUTTER!>” Moments later he came out from the back room in leather breaches and work boots and stormed out the door. “<Are you coming or not?>”

Konnor looked around, “<It’s not like there’s anything worth messing with in here. And don’t expect me to help you with securing your stuff. You’ll regret it one day when all your shinnies are missing.>” Konnor stepped out the door to see several people looking at them because of the commotion. “What!?!”

“<HA! I know every Sczarni in Sandpoint by name. They’re my family, and family does not f#!! over family. I’m not stupid, I know what they do; but they don’t do it to me. Them I trust!>” Qakisst slammed his door and locked it. “<I am surprised nobody has shown up in your room one night to scare the shit out of you yet,> Gadjo!”

“<If you’re so trusting, then why are you locking your door?>” Konnor blinked only once in surprise at Qakisst’s reference to visits; having received such a visit only recently. “<Why would any of your Sczarni friends need to scare me?>”

“<Don’ play stupid with me! Everybody knows the Sczarni reputation around here. You’ve been in town long enough to know too.>” Qakisst stomped down the hill toward the dragon. “<I have no doubt that you’re up to something, Konnor. Are you just a street thief or do you do second story work? You sure as hell aren’t a scam artist; but you are a thief; aren’t you?>”

“<I told you my parents were merchants. I don’t have to steal anything from anybody. You act like I murder puppies or something! What the f%#* is it with you?!>”

“<Apparently I’m crazy, remember? It is hard to focus enough to translate what people say quickly, but I AM NOT DEAF! I know what Naffer actually said. I just needed a moment to figure it out.>”

“<Okay, okay; I was just trying to have a little fun. I’m sorry.>” Konnor’s apology hit Qakisst like a runaway bull. “You’re really wigged out right now, aren’t you?”

“<I’m what? Uh, what the hell is wigged out? I am not going crazy!>” Qakisst turned back to Konnor as they passed Madam Mvashti’s; steam was rolling off Qakisst from the moist ocean air. Several people paused a moment as they walked up the street to look at the arguing heroes.

“<Kisst, I said I was sorry. You need to relax and we both need a drink.>”

“Sizi, gah… You drink too much!”

“Hey, you’re getting better!” Qakisst growled as Konnor replied. Qakisst had stopped just past Madam Mvashti’s doorway and now slowly turned to the door even as Konnor replied to him. “<Wait, what are you doing?>”

Qakisst slowly stepped up to the door and reached for the knocker. “<Shush, Konnor.>” Even as Qakisst reached for the door it opened slowly in front of him. Qakisst stood frozen in front of the opening door.

“Good morning Qakisst. Please come in.” Koya Mvashti stood just inside the door holding it open to him. “Invite your friend in too. Mother told me to expect you this morning.” Koya’s warm smile softened the freakishness of her opening the door before Qakisst could knock; but only a little.

“<What did she say?>” Both Qakisst and Konnor looked at each other with some confusion at Lady Koya’s Varisi dialect. Koya chuckled some.

“Well, are we having that problem again?” Koya switched to the more common Taldan language, “Konnor is it? It sounds like you speak Ignan. Please tell Qakisst to come in.”

“You know what he’s speaking?” Konnor looked somewhat confused from the bottom of the steps.

“I do not speak Ignan, but I do recognize it.” Koya held out an arm to Qakisst who stepped into the doorway as she spoke. The elder Vistani woman gave him a quick hug before ushering him in the door. “If you would, Konnor? It will make things easier. Ufahamu.” The magical word washed across all of them as Koya spoke it.

“<I’m an idiot, Aunt Koya.>” Qakisst stood just inside the foyer to Madam Mvashti’s house and business as Konnor entered. “<I didn’t even think to come here when I couldn’t clear the fire from my mind.>”

“That is quite alright, sweetie.” Koya smiled at Qakisst as she spoke, “Do you understand me now?”

“Umm, <a little. It is really hard. Please speak slowly.>”

“Why am I here?” Konnor looked annoyed as he stood next to the now closed door.

“Because you are compelled to be helpful even as you feel the entire world is against you, Konnor Darkelven.” Koya smiled at Konnor as she matched his Taldan speech. “The Varisi have a long history, Konnor. We know more about the elven feud than you might realize.” Konnor blanched at Koya’s innuendo.
Qakisst gave the pair a confused look. “<What are you saying? I don’t understand.>”

Koya smiled to Qakisst and ushered him to the sitting room to await Grandmother Nishka, the venerable Madam Mvashti to non-Varisi. “Don’t worry about it Qakisst.” She spoke slowly in Varisi hoping that he could understand a little. “Mother will be with you in a few minutes. She had me get these this morning.” Koya gestured to a plate of cookies sitting on the table as the trio sat around the table in the sitting room.

Qakisst took a cookie from the plate as he looked around the room, “<How did she know? Is word getting around town already about my sudden affliction?>”

“I do not believe so, Qakisst. I woke up this morning and came down stairs to find her doing blind readings here in the parlor by herself. She told me that you would be stopping in late this morning.” Koya smiled and offered a cookie to Konnor who politely took one but only nibbled on it.

“Ufahamu.” The voice that spoke magic from the back curtain strolled slowly into the room. Grandmother Nishka Mvashti smiled; looked at Konnor and raised an eyebrow. “I expected Ms. Tessa this morning with him, Koya. The cards still surprise me sometimes.” Nishka slowly settled into her padded chair and switched to speaking in Taldan. “M’Lord Konnor; very good of you to help out Cousin Kisst. I feel you are a better friend than he might realize.”

“I keep trying to tell him that.” Konnor smiled a too white smile on his dark features.

“That is not to say that your path is just and clear, Elvenborn. Your path is far from clear. Shrouded in ways even you do not realize.” Nishka wagged a finger at the young dark skinned elf. “Now, since young master Konnor is helping to translate I shall stick to Taldan. Young Kisst? Can you understand me?” She turned to Qakisst, still chewing a cookie.

“Uhhhh, <I’m not really sure what you are saying Grandmother. Understand what? Konnor? You? I do not know who I am expected to understand.”

“<She asked if you can understand her?>” Konnor looked board and nibbled on a cookie.

“<Oh, um no. Not really. I understand Varisi better; but only a little.>” Qakisst sighed and took a deep breath. “<It is better now than it was this morning though. I could not understand anything when I woke up except fire. Uh, Ignan.>”

“Please tell me about your morning, my boy.” Konnor translated for Grandmother Nishka. Qakisst slowly went over the morning’s activities, skipping his initial encounter with Laurie. Konnor continued to translate for Qakisst, only drawing Grandmother Nishka’s ire over playful mistranslations a couple of times.

Madam Mvashti’s knowledge of oracles within the Varisi was considerably more extensive that the brief listing of oracle abilities that Father Zantus and his temple acolytes could come up with in one morning; but the information was still considerably limited. After an hour of difficult explanations and discussion Qakisst and Konnor departed Madam Mvashti’s with Qakisst trudging along with his head hanging low.

“<So you’re actually divinely chosen and you think it’s because you drowned at Thistletop?>” Konnor raised an eyebrow as the pair turned the corner at Market Square heading to the Rusty Dragon. “I can see why you might think so, but really? Why would you need to drown?”

“<I don’t think it is because I drowned. I think that just tipped it over the edge.>” Qakisst looked up with a look of defiant anger. “<I DON’T UNDERSTAND, M’LADY. WHY ME?>”

“<Cause you can understand Ignan? Hey! Does this mean I get to be an oracle too?>” Konnor smiled as he followed Qakisst up to the wooden walkway leading into the dragon.

As Qakisst crossed the doorway to the Dragon he pointed back at Konnor and for just a second water poured from the clear sky above to soak the roguish elf blooded boy. “HEY!” Konnor held out his arms from his side as water dripped off of him. “<That’s not funny.>”

“<What’s not funny?>” Tessa sat sketching the back entrance to the Dragon from memory as she looked out the front window. Qakisst stopped half way across the common as Konnor stood in the door dripping.
“<Did you just…>” Qakisst turned to stare at Tessa.

“<Did I just what?> Tessa looked up at Konnor, “<Why is he all wet?>”

“<Because somebody thinks it is fun to play practical jokes with gifts from the gods.>” Konnor barked across the common at Qakisst.

“You go dry off and stop dripping on my floor, Konnor.” Bethana pointed from behind the bar at Konnor standing in the door. Qakisst waved his hand and sent the little magics to wring the water out of Konnor’s clothes.
“<Hey, stop that! That ain’t right!>” Konnor danced in the doorway as the minor cantrip drew the water out of his clothes.

“<Don’t change the subject, Tessa. Did you just speak in fire?>” Qakisst turned to face Tessa as he slid up to the service counter.

“<Yeah. It’s not a terribly difficult language. Not like Terran with all its extra consonants and hard cracking sounds.>” Tessa sprinkled fine sand across her page to dry the ink, <”It’s not like I heard you using it before. Well, except when you stutter. HEY, you’re not stuttering!>”

“Can I get a beer, Bethana?” Konnor took a seat at the bar.

“<I don’t stutter. I just have a hard time translating my thoughts into Taldan.>”

“<You stutter in Varisi also.>”

“<No I don’t.>”

“Inheritor help me, what language is that? It sounds like snakes on fire or something.” Tessa laughed as Sapphire came down the stairs complaining about their conversation.

“<What’d she say?>”

“It is a little like a hissing popping sound, isn’t it.” Tessa shrugged.

“<What’s she saying?!>” Qakisst barked at Konnor who grinned at him.

“Calm down, Junior. It isn’t like she’s speaking Min Kai.” Tessa looked at Qakisst like he was a spoiled brat.

Qakisst turned to Konnor, “<Tell them.>”

“<You tell them.>”

“Ahgg! <I can’t understand Taldan. I can barely understand Varisi.>” Qakisst waived his hands at his ears in exasperation. “<I can’t find the words anymore. They’re being drowned out by the voices.>”

“Did I do something to piss the kid off that he won’t talk to me now?” Sapphire walked across the common to join Tessa at her table.

“You didn’t follow through on that kiss you gave him. He’s a little pouty.” Tessa began drawing the exterior front entrance to the Dragon on a new page; as Sapphire gave Qakisst a dirty look.

“<What’d you say, Tessa!>”

“<Just told her you can’t talk to her.>” As Tessa replied, Qakisst looked back and forth between her at Sapphire. “Scowl at him like he’s in trouble.”

“He is in trouble if he thinks I just jump into bed with any kid that can kiss.” Sapphire glowered at Qakisst as Konnor struggled not to laugh.

“<Blessed and be damned, Tessa! This isn’t funny!>” Qakisst lifted his arm, but Konnor grabbed him by the finger.

“<No. Don’t go there.>”

“Mr. Vishtani? What seems to be the trouble?” Bethana slid a beer in front of both Konnor and Qakisst. Qakisst looked at Konnor with wide eyes.

“He’s hearing voices.” Konnor sipped from his beer as he spoke. Bethana looked slightly shocked.

“<Stop it! I know what you said, Konnor!>”

“<Prove it.>”

“Ben, rrrrr, I am değil, ah, de n… not! I – am – not!” Qakisst pound his finger against the bar in front of Konnor.
“<Liar. You are hearing voices.>” Konnor stuck his tongue out at Qakisst.

“Wow. <You’re not kidding about not understanding Taldan.>” Tessa slipped out of her seat and zipped across the floor. “<What brought this on?>”

“<Apparently he’s some kind of oracle now.>”

“<Shut up, Mystery Boy. He can speak in fire.>”

“<Something happened. I have these dreams; but I just thought they were dreams. Apparently not thought; because now I have a host of Dawnflower messengers screaming in my head with the tongue of fire. I can hardly focus past that, let alone translate languages. I can’t find the words.>” Qakisst dropped his face into his palm and sighed. “<And I’m hungry.>”

“<Oh, so you are hearing voices just like Mystery Boy said; and when in the name of the old ones did this start?>” Tessa looked at Konnor then Qakisst.

“What the heck, I guess nobody wants to talk to me.” Sapphire slipped out of her chair and went out to explore more of Sandpoint.

“<I don’t know. It has always been hard to think in any language other than fire. That’s why I sometimes have trouble with words.>”
“<That’s why you stutter?>”

“<I don’t stutter!>”

“<Yeah you do, Junior. But that’s okay. So when did this start? Not being able to understand people or speak other languages?>”

“<Last night some time? I was fine when I went to bed, and apparently I conjured water this morning in my sleep.>” Konnor spit beer all over the counter as Qakisst admitted to dousing himself that morning.

“<Weren’t you with that Pixie Girl, what is her name?>” Konnor wiped his face and held out a hand as Bethana brought him a bar towel.

“<Yes he was with Laure last night, shut up. Is your girl Laure okay?>”

“<Yeah, she’s fine. A little freaked out, but fine.> Uh, mmm, Bethana? Biraz, um, alibi… Uh, food? Lütfen?” Qakisst motioned to his mouth with a somewhat desperate expression.

“You’re lucky I speak homeless drunkard, Mr. Vishtani. It is very similar to what you’re trying to say now.” Bethana went back to the kitchen to fill a lunch plate. Konnor spit more beer on the counter with a laugh; then cursed.

“<Where you having any trouble before this morning, Junior?>”

“<I think since we got back from Thistletop. Since the bunyip cave. I have been hearing whispers since I heard her tell me, ‘Not yet.’>” Qakisst shuttered at the memory of drowning; the voices in his head drew strangely silent for a moment.

“<Wait a minute, Junior. You’ve been hearing voices for two days now?>” Tessa smacked Qakisst in the back of the head as Bethana walked out from the kitchen. “<What possibly made you think that was normal?>”

“Seni Bethana teşekkür ederiz. Uh, thank se.. you. Thank you.” Qakisst grabbed his fork and dug into the plate.

“Very impressive, Miss Tessa. You have him saying thank you when you discipline him.” Bethana smiled and Konnor spit more beer on the counter.

“Ben anlaş… I – understood that!”

“Can I drink my beer without you three drowning me in my own suds?” Konnor struggled to control his laughter while drinking.

The word ‘drown’ echoed over and over in Qakisst’s head. “<Can you ask Bethana to give me the key to the bathing room, please?>” Qakisst shoveled more steamed rice into his mouth. “<I would really like to just relax in hot water.>”

“Hey Bethana, Qakisst needs his back scrubbed and would really like you to help him with that.” Tessa smiled sweetly at Bethana as Konnor got up from the bar and walked outside to rescue the last of his drink.

Bethana blinked in surprise before responding, “Mr. Vishtani, I am afraid that I do not fraternize with the customers.” Bethana slid the key to the private bath across to him, “But I will make sure the water is clean and hot before you finish your lunch.”

“<She says she would be very happy to bathe you; where do you want scrubbed the hardest?.>”

“<What?! What did you say? Tessa! What did you say!?!>” Konnor could be heard laughing from the front steps of the Dragon as Qakisst ranted at Tessa.

The Exchange

The Mystery of Steel:

With some trepidation, Qakisst finished his lunch and went to the Dragon’s bathhouse. He carefully unlocked the door and peaked in. The room was empty except the required towels and the large hot tub of water. Locking the door behind him Qakisst stripped and climbed into the tub. The whispering voices grew slightly louder, but not unbearable.

Qakisst listened to the voices as he soaked in the tub. If he concentrated he could just make out one voice or another. As each voice imparted some understanding to him it grew dim and faded.

“Trying to drown yourself again, Hearth-Heart?” The voice was crystal clear in his drowsing mind.

He heard himself reply as fire, “No, m’Lady; and I was not trying to drown myself the first time.” In his mind he could see himself sitting in the great garden in his dreaming city.

“I am glad to see you healed yourself, though there was little need by the time you did so.” He could feel her smiling at him, even though he could not see her through the light.

“I did not know how. I did not even know that I could. I do not understand why you have given this gift to me?” Even in the dreaming, Qakisst felt panic welling up inside his mortal form in the real world.

“I am so sorry, Hearth-Heart. It is not a gift; it is a burden that I know I can trust you with. Even if your friend Laranys could stay with you, it would not be enough. The Inheritor has sent a champion to help all of you at my request, as I must send Laranys home to take care of other duties; but I need somebody that I can trust. So much is about to happen; and your friends will need you just as you will need them. I would not burden you, but I know you will not relent when needed.”

“But I do not know what to do?”

“Do what you do best, Hearth-Heart. I have given you a gift with your burden. You have been putting it to good use in your workshop. You are always so relaxed there.”

A thump on the outside of the tub startled Qakisst awake. “Don’ go drowning yourself, Mr. Vishtani.” Bethana walked through the room checking towels and shuffling the few bottles of perfumed soaps that he did not care for. “An hour is plenty long and I never want to have to pull a body out of the tub.”

Qakisst spoke carefully and thoughtfully as he struggled to find the words, “Thank - you, Bethana.”

“Hrmm. I expected more of a start from you after I got Laure to tell me how you reacted to her visit the first time; almost disappointing.” The elderly halfling smiled and walked to the service door at the back of the room. “It’s been over an hour. You should see about rejoining the world.”

Qakisst sat up in the cooling water staring after Bethana, “Herhangi bir şey artık sizin aşama mu? Uh; does - anything - phase - you - anymore?”

“If it does, I will not show it. Now be a good lad and don’t make too much of a mess.” Bethana stepped out and closed the door.

“Efendim Evet.” Qakisst stood as Bethana closed the servant’s door and stepped out of the tub. The voices were very calm now, not so urgent. He could almost think clearly. Steam rolled off his body as the fire in his heart brought his body temperature back up to what was normal for him. Qakisst pulled the drain plug at the base of the tub and let the dirty water out into the gutter that flowed to the street behind the Dragon and dressed.

As he slipped across the common Tessa called out to Qakisst, “<Are you feeling any better, Junior? Did Bethana scrub your back.>”

“I –am – fine, Tessa; and you are <how do you say; horrible?>” He smiled faintly as he said it and strode out the door heading for Savah’s Armory.

“<I love you to Junior.>” Tessa looked around for her next customer.

Qakisst took a deep breath as he walked up the street. Faintly the voices were teaching him about metal, and healing, armor, and faith. He felt himself growing confused slowly as he walked up the street. Most of the people he passed waved and smiled. He waved back and tried to keep calm. Fortunately Savah’s was only a short distance away and he slipped in the door quietly trying not to be noticed.

“Good to see that there are proper boots on those feet.” Sava walked past him with a smile carrying a long metal rod. “I’ve been waiting for you all day, kid. Come give me a hand bending this without us having to stick it back in the furnace.” Qakisst looked at her trying to process the words and not being able to keep up.

“Ben ne diyorsun bilmiyorum. TANRILARIN LANETLENECEĞIM!” Qakisst took a deep breath as Savah turned around. “I – am – having…”

“I think he said he can’t understand you.” Keth Deskert stepped up to the warehouse door holding a pair of crimps and an angle gauge. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What do you mean he can’t understand me?” Savah looked back at the two of them.

“Ah kesintiye uğratmaz!” Again Qakisst took a deep breath, “I – am –trying…”

“Özür ben.” Keth backed up.

“What?” Ben yelled out from inside the warehouse.

“Not Ben, ben; shut up.” Keth waved Ben away. Qakisst turned grinning at them both.

“<You can speak fire?>”

“What? Oh, <only a little. I am bad very. Cannot right get it.>”

“What the hell is going on?” Savah looked back and forth from Qakisst to her apprentices.

“<What did she say? I can hardly tell.>”

“<Slow, please. Uh, she asked what is going on.>”

“<Tell them that I am having trouble finding words. Do you understand?> Qakisst looked at Keth hopefully.

“<I think so.>” As Keth turned to look a Savah Qakisst hugged him, “I think he said he is having a problem searching words. I don’t know exactly what he means.” Keth blushed and smiled at the unexpected affection.

“Ah hell.” Savah picked the long metal rod she was working to carry it back into the armory. “You’ll have to heat it the old fashion way, boys while I figure out what this is about.”

“<What’s she doing?>”

“<Huh, oh. She wanted you to flame the metal so she can… uh, flex it. I think.>”

“<Heat it so she can bend it? I can do that.>” Qakisst gripped the long metal rod stopping Savah in her tracks. “<Ask her to point to where she needs it heated, and how hot.>” Qakisst smiled at Savah as he spoke.

“<Wait, slow please. I only know a little Ignan.> Savah, he wants you to show him where to heat the joint.” Keth struggled to interpret the sizzle-pop sounds of Ignan as he spoke.

“Is this what you’ve been wasting your time on? Keth, you’re hopeless.” Ben walked back into the armory and began straitening up for the next task.

“You sure about this, kid?” Savah looked into Qakisst’s eyes.

“Speak – slowly.” Qakisst smiled back. “Ben… er… I – can – do – this.”

“Okay.” Savah laid out the long tool on the braces she had set out earlier and pointed to three places on the long straight tool. “I need a fifteen degree bend here and here, and a sixty degree bend here.”

Qakisst looked at Keth, “<How hot?>”

“<Uh, just enough a clean bend to do.>” Keth seemed to sweat as he struggled through the words; but Qakisst understood him.

Looking back at Savah, Qakisst pointed to the first point she had indicated, “Burada mı?”

“If that means what I think, yes.” As Savah spoke Qakisst gripped both sides of the rod and sent heat surging through his bare hands. The metal glowed red hot. “Brace the back side, Keth.” As Keth stomped a metal brace down into the floor against the base of the long metal rod, Savah bracketed the hot iron and pushed the still cool end with her hip, bending the bar with ease; then measuring the angle. With a little work, she was satisfied and pointed at the next spot.

“Burada mı?” Qakisst repeated.

“Yes.” Savah nodded as Qakisst once more heated the metal in his hands. Savah then bent the bar as Keth and Qakisst braced it; measuring the angle and adjusting to get the right measurement. “And here.” Qakisst gripped the end of the bar as Savah grabbed two pairs of vice clamps and fitted them into place. The metal turned red hot and Savah pulled the bar to shape.

“Well, that was a lot faster than pulling the rod in and out of the furnace.” Savah smacked her gloved hands together. “Can you do that when wearing gloves?”

Qakisst looked at Keth, “<She wants you gloved wearing.>”

“<She wants me wearing gloves for this?> Ben, er, I cannot hot, uh, heat the metal in gloves.” Qakisst looked from Keth to Savah. “<Sorry.>”
“He said…”

“I got it, I got it.” Sava grabbed the long tool in a clamp and carried it back inside to cool slowly. “Ask him if I can use him next week to crank out the rest of these after I see if this one cools right.”

“<Savah wants to know if you can work week next?>” Keth fumbled through the words; but Qakisst understood.

“Hayır. Magnimar. <I have to go to Magnimar to give testimony.>”

“Uh…”

“I got it Keth. He’s going to Magnimar for the Sheriff; I almost forgot about that.” Savah sighed, “Okay, we’ll be doing most of this the old fashioned way.” Savah looked up at Keth, “I never knew you spoke Ignan, Keth. See if you can get the story out of him as to what’s going on, and I’ll help Ben prep the rest of these. Don’t take too damned long though. We still got a ton of work to catch up on after yesterday’s little break.”

“Yes Savah.” Keth looked at Qakisst and grimaced. “<So, are you a mystery keeping it?>

Qakisst laughed. “<No. But your sentence structure is worse than Konnor’s. I will explain slowly. But I want metal in my hands. It helps me think.>”

The Two moved to the back of the armory where Qakisst’s work bench sat. Waiting on them was the two parts of the spear Qakisst had been laboring on for nearly a month. As they talked, Keth’s rudimentary grasp of the Ignan language improved slightly, and Qakisst’s understanding of Taldan slowly returned; at least in part. The metal in his hands was cold, but it felt good. Qakisst pulled out his metal cutting tools and studied the long hollow shaft he had created. It was nearly perfect; better than he had hoped. As he slowly worked on it, asking Keth to help here and there, Qakisst explained the events of the last two days. When he told of how he had unintentionally woken both himself and Laure that morning Keth nearly fell off his stool laughing. Qakisst looked at him with a sly smile.

“<You do not like her much, do you?>” Qakisst watched Keth carefully.

“Uh, I can’t er, <Sorry. I cannot say that I do. Know her I do not.>” Keth looked away as his face reddened. <”Is that the woman Korva…>”

“Yes.”

“<Then I do not like her.>”

“<Have I been clueless all this time?>”

“I don’t understand.” Keth’s language slipped into his native Taldan.

“<I am slow, but I’m not completely stupid. You didn’t learn to speak the tongue of fire for a hobby.>” Keth would not look at Qakisst, and Qakisst thought for sure the young boy would run any moment. “<I do not mind. I am sorry I do not feel the same. But I am glad you can speak to me; I just hope it does not hurt too much.>”

“I hate you.” The barely whispered words were perfectly clear to Qakisst.

“I - know - how - you - mean; - and - I - am - sorry - I - do - not - feel - the - same.” Qakisst stood up as he responded to the words Keth would not speak, and grabbing his metal carving kit; took the hollow metal haft with him to sit at the front watching Savah and Ben.

“Where’s Keth?” Savah looked at Qakisst after several minutes, wondering if he could even understand her.

“Bırakın onu Lütfen. Let him be. He - needs - time.” Qakisst looked sad as he stared into the dark corner at the back of the armory where he could see Keth crying.

“What am I paying these kids for?” Sava started for the back of the room, but the long hollow haft in Qakisst’s hand zipped in front of her like lightning.

“I - will - pay - it - today. Let him be.” Qakisst locked eyes with Savah and she shook her head.

“You cost me an apprentice and I’ll be pissed off.” Savah snarling at Ben, “Bellows!”

Ben looked into the darkness in the back; then glared at Qakisst as he cranked the bellows. “You could have pretended you didn’t know.”

“Ben bu kadar acımasız olamayacağını.” Qakisst took up space at a work bench and continued slowly carving intricate grooves into the surface of his new metal haft.

“I didn’t spend a year hoping to impress you by learning a language.” Ben growled as he continued to crank the bellows.

“Sorry.” Qakisst continued to work slowly, while watching the back area. “How - long?” It took Ben a moment to realize Qakisst had been speaking to him. Savah continued to roll the ends of long metal tools in the furnace to get their temperature right.

“WHAT?” Ben barked at Qakisst. “Loud huffing bellows, Qakisst!”

Qakisst pointed to the back of the armory, “How - Long!” Ben looked away with an angry scowl on his face.

“Savah! Ben, lütfen dışarıda ben sürüklemek ve hoşlandığını incitebilir miyim?” Savah looked up at Qakisst.

“Fer cryin’ out loud. What?!” Savah scowled at Qakisst. “How long is this crazy shit going to last?”

“Break? - Beş, uh… Five minutes.” Qakisst pointed at Ben angrily.

“Oh sweet Desna. Ben! Five minutes.” Savah pointed at the door then stomped to the back of the armory in silence.

“Ben?” Qakisst looked at Ben for a response.

“I really don’t want to talk right now.” Qakisst’s hand shot out and grabbed Ben’s ear before the younger boy could act. Magical energy surged into Qakisst’s muscles, and he pulled gently. “AAAA!!! OW! OW! OW! AAAAAHH! STOP ALL READY!” Qakisst had drug Ben out of the armory by the ear before he let go. As he released Ben he called up the healing energy just as he had this morning. “AHHOW! What the hell was that?”

“Iyileşmesi, a - healing - spell.”

“And yanking my ear off?”

“Better - than - you - deserve! - How - long - did - you - know?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him!” Ben looked ready to fight as rage filled his face.

“Tatlı bir Tanrıçası! I - did - not - say - that!” Qakisst dropped to sit on the ground just outside the warehouse doors. Inside, the sound of the bellows started back up.

“Then why is my brother crying in the back of the armory!”

“Because I know, and I do not feel the same way.”

“What did you say to him?!”

“I said I am sorry.” Ben stared at Qakisst sitting on the ground. “I - said - I - am - sorry – that - I - do - not - uh, aynısını hissediyor, uh… feel like him.”

“So you crushed his feelings?!” Ben raged at Qakisst as water suddenly poured out of the air drenching Ben.

A giggle from the doorway made them both turn as water soaked Ben clear through his clothes. Keth, red eyed and runny nosed was stifling a giggle as he cranked the bellows. When he realized he had been heard Keth turned away and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“That - was - gross.”

“You broke my brother’s heart.”

“What - should - I - do? - Let - him - suffer - hopeless, uh - hopelessly?”

“At least he wasn’t heartbroken!”

“I can hear you, you bastards!” Ben and Qakisst snapped around to see Keth still cranking the bellows, red eyed.

“And why’d you have to soak me down? When did you learn to do that?”

“Because - uh, sen dinlemek olmaz; um listen you; lânet. You - not - listen.”

“I can’t work like this?”

“Yes you can. Five minutes is up, boys. You can finish screaming at each other over who has Keth’s best interest at heart later. Boy’s gona be heart broke for a while, but he’ll live. You go load the furnace, you’ll dry off fast enough. Move.” Savah’s glare sent Ben scurrying to load more wood into the furnace.

“Üzüldüm.” Qakisst took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“Do I need Keth to interpret? Cause I’m not sure he’s up to that right now.

“Uh, no. Just - please - talk - slow.”

“Okay.” Savah pulled a stool out from the shop and sat down. “I’m too old to be sitting on the ground.”

“Savah, - you - are…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Savah shushed Qakisst with a wave of her hand. “You did okay back there. Now how about you explain what’s wrong with your head; and where you learned to make the rain come.”

“I explained it to Keth so he uh, so he could say… tell you.” Qakisst looked down between his feet.

“I want to hear it from you. I still need to know that your head is on straight; remember?”

“I - have - dreams. - The - Dawnflower - is - giving - me - blessings. - I guess.” Qakisst looked away. “They - have - a - price.”

“What kind of price?”

“Wha? Uh, hearing… no. - Understanding is hard. I - cannot - find - words.”

“Tell her no.” Savah looked at him like she was ready to storm the heavens themselves.

“Savah!” Qakisst turned back to her with a bemused grin.

“Seriously, Qakisst! Tell her no!” Savah stood up. “You already have enough to worry about. For the love of all, you’re just a kid!”

“I - was - a - kid - when - you - were - born.” Savah frowned at him as Qakisst continued, “And - I - will - be - a - kid - when - your - children - are - grown.” He grinned at her, “Lütfen; let me show you.”

Qakisst jumped up and dashed into the armory to grab the new haft for his weapon. Ben glared at him and Keth turned away as he grabbed the haft from the bench next to where Keth stood. “<Keth, please be my friend. I like you to much to leave you hanging. Friends, please.>”

“Yeah, friends.” Keth glanced at Qakisst and smiled, then looked away. Ben glared at him as Qakisst walked back out to Savah.

“Ben, rrr… I - am - working - on - balance.” Qakisst spun the metal tube with perfect precision.

“Looks pretty balanced to me.” Savah watched him spin the pipe, “But isn’t it a bit slick in your hand.”

“I had a revelation about that. I have been carving on the pipe since I got here. Changing the surface, making it grip. It is like the metal is talking to me.”

“That’s silly, Kisst.” Savah looked up at him as Qakisst handed her the pipe.

“Is it? I - did - that - while - trying - not - to - break - Keth’s - heart.”

“Uh, this is the weapon you were working yesterday? Qakisst? It’s gorgeous; but how are you going to fit a spearhead to it?”

“I am going to notch the end and fit it into place, then weld pins into place so it is fixed. I know it will work.”

“I thought you couldn’t talk.”

“I am comfortable here. It - helps.”

“I am too, kid.” Savah stood up and looked over her shoulder at her two apprentices. “I guess it is a good thing you are going to Magnimar for a week or so. Keth might get his feet back under him with you out of view.”

“How long biliyor muydunuz; uh… did you know?”

“About Keth? How long have I been telling you that those boys look up to you so much?”

Qakisst looked a little confused. “Bilmiyorum. A year?”

“About that long.”

“Why did you not - tell me?”

“I hoped he would outgrow you. Figure out that you were never going to be interested and move on.” Savah looked at Qakisst as he stared into the armory. “You’re not interested, right?”

“Pek değil, uh; no. It does not bother me. It is flattering in a way. I hope it does not ruin our friendship; but I do not think that is what I would want.”

“He’ll get over it. And he’s lucky; some of the other boys around here would have kicked his ass if they thought he was looking at theirs’.”

“I am - going to go - back - to - my bench. I want to finish - this today.” Qakisst took the metal haft back from Savah and moved to the back of the work shop to his space and set to work on his new spear.

Laying out his tools, Qakisst began to study the bar; looking for imperfections; looking past the surface. The voices in his mind took focus, and they guided his hand across the metal. Qakisst worked as if in a trance, a divine revelation flooding through him. Over the next 3 hours he carved and notched the metal surface; engraving intricate scrollwork designs into the surface not just of the metal haft, but of the spear head. When he got to the end he found himself notching the base and pulling the threading tool out of his kit. He had cast the cap for the base with the spear head, and realized that he had built notches into the inner surface already. For hours he polished and notched and grooved the weapon until it fit together perfectly. No pins or welds required. This was what a weapon should be. This was the smooth, elegant, beautiful way metal was meant to be.

“Hey, loverboy!” Keth seemed to have some of his normal humor back, though he blushed a bit when he realized what he had yelled at Qakisst. “We’re cleaning up, are we locking you in?”

Qakisst looked up out the windows and realized it must be something near to six bells. “Bana beş dakika daha ver! Uh… give - me…”

“I got it. Five minutes.” Keth ducked out the door.

Moments later Ben came back to help Qakisst clean up. “Wow, that’s quite a mess on the floor.” Ben swept the metal shavings and bits up carefully as Qakisst rearranged his tools to pack them up. “Um…”

“Biliyorum. Lanet! Sorry, I mean; I understand. I am glad he has you to look out for him.” Qakisst kept his buffing cloth and a sharpening stone out of his tool kit and slid the case back under the bench out of the way.

“I still want to say it.” Ben leaned on his broom. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up at you. You never had any problems with Savah so I should have trusted that you wouldn’t have problems with Keth.”

“It is a little different. Ben bir adam hiç benle böyle ürüne baktı ettiğini bilmiyordum. Uh, I have not words for this. Uh… It feels like when Laure snuck into my room at the Dragon.”

“What?” Ben gave Qakisst a wide eyed look, “Your girl Laure snuck into your room? At the Dragon? Awesome!”

“I threw her out the first time.” Qakisst blushed. “Diye beni dışarı korkuttun. But this is less scary. I do not want anything more than friendship so I am worried more of Keth. I do not wish to hurt him; but I know how much it hurts to want somebody.” Qakisst held up his new spear to change the subject. “Buraya. Have a look.”

“Your flipping languages is going to drive me nuts.” Ben took the long metal spear in hand. “Whoa, it’s lighter than I thought.” The younger boy stepped back and flourished the weapon to check its balance. “This is, wow!” Ben pulled the spear head in close to look, “And it’s all fire-forge?”

“Buraya. Durun size göstereyim.” Qakisst held out his hand smiling. Ben passed the weapon back to him. As soon as Ben’s hand was away from the weapon heat flooded it and surged up the weapon through the shaft. The fire-forge focused the power into the spearhead which glowed white hot for a second.

“Impressive.” Savah’s voice echoed through the work floor. “You can show of more later though. I for one am hungry. Finish up, both of you.”

Qakisst and Ben scrambled to straighten up the back area before joining Savah and Keth at the front of the shop. “Akşam yemeği?”

“I don’t know, Q.” While closing the warehouse doors; Ben and Savah looked at Keth as he answered Qakisst.

“Lütfen? Oh, uh… Sorry. Dinner, please. On me. We are friends; and you have not met the others. Besides, I promised to introduce Savah to Sapphire.” Qakisst held up his new spear. “I want to celebrate. This took a lot of work. Lütfen?”

“What is lutefin?” Savah looked annoyed.

“He said, please.” As Keth translated Qakisst gave her his best devilish grin while holding his spear close.

“Well hell, if he said please.” The four of them headed for the Dragon laughing.
--
Qakisst had enjoyed introducing Savah to Sapphire. Ben had been a bit tongue tied meeting the beautiful aasimar, but had managed not to drool on himself. Keth seemed a bit shy at first, which was decidedly un-Keth like, but once he relaxed a bit finally enjoyed himself. The armory trio stayed only long enough to eat and get acquainted before Savah shooed Ben and Keth home. While old enough to be on their own; the pair still lived on their father’s farm and he expected them home to help with the farm before bedtime. With Sava trying to untie her tongue talking to Sapphire and Tessa busy trying to talk yet another young man into a full back inking, Qakisst looked around.

“Nedir? Where are Caleb and Athos tonight?” Qakisst was somewhat disappointed at not getting to show off his new weapon.

“I don’t know. Somebody said something about the sheriff and Shalelu heading out of town with them this morning.” Konnor waved to one of the bar staff with his now empty mug. “Your tongue seems a little less tied up this evening.”

“Um, bu konuda; I am sorry.” Qakisst looked away somewhat embarrassed.

“Okay, not completely untied.” Konnor smirked as the barmaid slit his drink down the table. “But it’s cool. I get why you were freaking out this morning. I’m here for you. Just remember, Ben çeviri hizmetleri için sefere şarj etme yaşıyorum.”

“Lütfen. Sizin tümceyi yapısı size sarhoş bir maymunu gibi ses yapan. Junior has me.” Tessa packed up her things to head upstairs. “Try not to need me before breakfast, Junior.”

“So is somebody going to clue me in on this whole language thing that has been going on? What did I do to piss you off kid?” Sapphire sipped her beer while looking up the table from Savah.

“Pissed off? Kızdırdın nedir? Oh! Hey! Why did you guys tell Sapphire that I was mad at her? Qakisst glared at Konnor.

“Wasn’t me. That was Tessa.” Konnor shrugged. “I was busy trying to get out from between you and Bethana.”

“Not funny.” Qakisst blushed slightly. “I was never mad at you, Sapphire. I have just had göksel ana bilgisayar; the heavenly host of Sarenrae screaming in my head all day.”

“You actually expect me to believe that the Dawnflower has been talking to you? Come on Qakisst; you’re a kid, no matter how old you tell me you are.” Sapphire chuckled with bemusement as she finished her drink. Qakisst made to point at the air above her; but Konnor grabbed his finger.

“Not in here. You can drown her outside tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Sapphire glowered at Qakisst in a friendly challenge. Qakisst lowered his finger to point at her mug on the table and it began to overflow with water just a little.

“Sen ben ejderhayı kızdırmak için istemezdim şanslıyız. She might toss us out if I did.” Qakisst passed his new spear over the table to Sapphire. “They taught me to do this too.”

“I guess I should say thank you for the cup of water.” Sapphire looked impressed as she took hold of the spear. “Wow, it is lighter than it looks. This is beautiful Qakisst. You did this?”

“He has been working at it all month. Makes his teacher very proud.” Savah grinned at them both.

“Teşekkür babam.” Konnor choked on his beer at Qakisst’s comment as Qakisst mugged at Savah.

“Did you just call Savah your Dad?”

“Brat.” Savah blushed as she scowled at Qakisst.

“Keep that in the corner for me, lütfen?” Qakisst jumped to his feet and began scanning the crowd. Almost by instinct, tables started to move out of the center of the common room. It had been a stressful day, and Qakisst wanted to dance.

The Exchange

Ever know that kid that thinks he can do anything? Now hand him a divine gift and he thinks he can handle anything.

Temptation:

The music moved him about the dance floor with ease. Qakisst’s current partner smiled at him with that same stupid smile most girls he hardly knew always had. Qakisst felt good, but he was annoyed. He was finding it easier to speak than he had all day; but he had come to realize that he did not know what to say to these girls. He asked them what they had been doing, what their plans for the coming winter were, listened as they prattled on about the latest rumors, and smiled reassuringly as their male friends or family members frowned at him. Part of him wished that Ben and Keth had stayed to have fun. With today’s unexpected revelations, both divine and mundane, Qakisst wished the twins were here to talk too.

This is ridiculous, Qakisst thought. He wondered why every guy looked at him like some vicious cad leaving a trail of broken hearts and crushed dreams in his wake? He just wanted to dance and enjoy the evening. It was not like he was taking advantage of his recent fortunes to get into the panties of every girl he could get his hands onto. It was obvious now that this was what everybody thought he was doing. Well, every guy that could not dance. As the song ended he led his current partner away from the floor and gave her a curt bow and smile. She looked slightly disappointed as he moved off to find a new partner. A slightly familiar face slipped in front of him and smiled.

Qakisst smiled back and took the young lady’s hand. She was familiar, but he could not remember where he knew her from. He did realize that he had danced with her twice already tonight, and was certain that he had danced with her more than once at last night’s celebration. “You are wool gathering, Q.” The statement startled him. “I know I am not a great dancer, but a girl does like her dance partner’s undivided attention.” What was her name? Sweet Desna, he could not think of this girl’s name! Her speech and dress marked her as Varisi, but something was wrong. She did not have the look or sound of any Varisi clan he knew; and she called him Q. None of the Varisi called him Q.

“Ah? Üzgünüz, I have had a… long day. Dürüst olmak gerekirse, a long month.” He smiled at her; still trying to remember her name and where he knew her from. The dance was a slow waltz; which normally took no thought on his part; but even that taxed Qakisst’s concentration tonight as the voices could still be heard in the distance, telling him secrets that the Goddess Sarenrae wanted him to know.

“Well, we could go someplace quiet and you could tell me all about it?” Qakisst struggled to keep a calm expression as he realized his current dance partner was propositioning him. Alarm bells sounded in his head, even though the whispers of the heavenly hosts.

“Ah, Ne diyecegimi bilmiyorum. It would be very uninteresting.” Qakisst began looking for a way to separate himself from his current dance partner without stepping on metaphorical toes; yet his body was betraying him. Even as his mind told him that this girl is dangerous; his body said let her try and we get to have some fun.

“Oh come on, Q. We all heard Caleb and that big Shoanti friend of yours telling stories about Thistletop and some creepy necromancer. It all sounds so exciting.” The young lady beamed at him as she pulled herself closer to him.

“Heyecan verici ben bunu tarif etseler nasıl tarif değil.” Her soft warm body excited him even as his mind screamed warnings at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh. Very sorry. I am having trouble with how to say how exciting it is. Devedikeniüst, um Thistletop has really affected bana, er… me. Is it warm in here?” Qakisst felt himself beginning to perspire with nervousness.

“Let’s step outside so we can cool off a bit.” The young woman smiled at him. Qakisst smiled back hiding his panic.

“Uh, let me İçecek bir şeyler; mmm, get you a drink.” Qakisst stepped back and gave a curt bow while smiling.

“Wine please. Something nice.” She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye as he stepped away to the bar.

“Bethana. Bethana!” Qakisst tried desperately to get the Dragon’s head bartender and housekeeper’s attention. “Yardım edin! I need some help!”

“You look like you are doing just fine, Mr. Vishtani.” Bethana gave him a slight scowl and looked past him at the young lady watching them from near the door.

“Iki bir şarap, wine please.” Qakisst held up two fingers. “Bethana please. I do not know her name!” Qakisst whispered the last part loudly.

“That is a problem, Mr. Vishtani.”

“Lütfen!” Despite Qakisst’s lack of linguistics, Bethana understood him meaning.

“Her name is Lena Hask. Use it if you must.” Bethana placed a room key on the counter along with the two glasses of wine; all while giving Qakisst a less than complimentary stare.

“You do not get to disapprove, as I did not ah… ask for this.” Qakisst held up the key for a second before tucking it away; then placed a pouch on the counter and pushed it to Bethana. “Please to be locking that up for me.” He watched as Bethana scooped up the pouch, which carried a hefty weight in coin and Qakisst’s cottage key, then he picked up both glasses with the room key and turned back to his latest dance partner.

“Önden buyurun.” Qakisst gestured to the front entrance to the Dragon and the two stepped out onto the front steps of the Rusty Dragon.

“What does that mean? Oundaenn, oh I cannot even pronounce it.” She looked at him in mock anger then smiled.

“I am sorry. I do not realize sometimes that I do that.” Qakisst flushed slightly; “Önden buyurun simply means, ah… after you.”

“I am not sure it means what you say, the way you blush.” She teased him as he handed her the glass of wine.

Qakisst sheepishly smiled, “It can be embarrassed, no… embarrassing to not be so good with words.”

“You were not so tongue tied when we were younger?” Lena sat close to Qakisst on the bench in front of the inn. The last rays of color from the sun had long slipped beyond the horizon.

“Ben hiç gitmediğini Devedikeniüst. I had never been to Thistletop before.” Qakisst allowed the young lady to rest her head on his shoulder; but could not decide if he was talking advantage of her or if she was taking advantage of him.

“It is a little chilly tonight.” He put his arm around her at her prompting, she snuggled closer.

“I do not get, um, what is the word for the opposite of hot? Cold, yes, I do not get cold often. Is this better?”

“Yes, very. That is a funny way of describing cold.”

“Where I come from, there is no, umm, what is the word… winter like you have here. It is dry, and warm; or hot.” Qakisst looked out into the starry night. “The seasons are spring, summer, and monsoon. Monsoon is when the rains come and will not end. But in the wake of the monsoon season, the world turns lush and green as spring returns.”

“You sound like you miss it.”

“I miss the green. The endless shades of green each spring, and the heat of the Sun.” He paused a moment and looked at this young lady under his arm. ‘But I do not miss Qadira. For all onunki claim to civilization, it is a barbaric place. People can be bought and sold like cattle, and for less.”

“That’s horrible!” Lena sat up and looked at him with shock.

“I would rather you tell me about your life here.” Qakisst smiled at her.

“My life is boring. I doubt that I have done anything that would interest somebody as brave as you.” Qakisst rolled his eyes at the too obvious attempt to masturbate his ego; but managed not to let Lena see him do so.

“Nobody’s life is boring.”

“Mine is. I could use some excitement.” Lena’s hand wandered up Qakisst’s thigh as she looked up at him. He turned his head and looked at her; eyes wide with nervousness.

“Ummm… Bence bu… This, uh, this might be too much excitement for the front steps of the Dragon.”

“I hear you have a room here. It would be quieter.”

“It would be.” Qakisst struggled not to flinch or blush as he helped Lena to her feet. He picked up the two glasses but failed to note that his seemed to fizz. “Do you, ah… need another drink?”

“We’ll be fine.” The pair walked across the common of the Dragon. Near the hearth, Qakisst could see Konnor watching them for some reason; but thought nothing of it. If Konnor could flounce around with Shayliss, nobody should say anything about him having a little fun. After all, Laure worked at the Kitten. She couldn’t exactly complain about his nighttime activities; much anyway.

Qakisst fumbled a bit with the lock before getting the door open. Lena followed him into the room and threw herself into his arms as soon as the door shut. After a few minutes of passionate kissing she raised the two glasses and offered him a toast, “To Sandpoint’s most handsome hero.” Qakisst tried not to roll his eyes as he downed his drink in one swallow; heat burned away most of the alcohol yet the drink hit him hard. Lena sat their glasses to the side and tumbled into the bed with him, pulling at his clothes.

“Hearth-Heart? Are you even listening Hearth-Heart?” The light of the sun spoke to him, but his mind was muddled. “Oh my child, but you do get yourself into such interesting situations.” The dreaming world surrounded him in warmth that barely penetrated his senses.

Qakisst lay in the grass of the great garden in his dreaming city. His arms were stretched out over his head and he lay spread eagle upon the ground. “Alcohol does not normally bother me this much. I am very sorry, m’Lady. I seem to be a bit muddleheaded today.” Qakisst blinked in the dreaming and tried to clear his head.

“Dear boy, you don’t think this effect is simple alcohol, do you? While you do not drink much, even you are not that easily muddled by just a couple drinks.” The light settled next to him on the grass; it did not burn. “You are so accepting of most people, so naive.”

“There was something else in my drink, wasn’t there? I did not boil it nearly enough, did I?” Qakisst shook his head with understanding.

“Apparently you did not. But if you relax, you will find that you wake up long before your new friend departs.” In the dreaming, Qakisst took a deep breath, and relaxed. He waited in the dreaming, wondering what was going on in his waking world.

“May I be so bold, m’Lady, as to ask a question?”

“You have never had to ask me if you could ask me before. You may always ask; I will decide if I wish to give an answer.”

“Why chose me?”

“That is so easy. Because you are wealthy and somewhat famous now. Hearth-Heart, there will always be those that try to take advantage of you.”

“I meant you, m’Lady.” Qakisst tried desperately not to roll his eyes, as to do so would be truly disrespectful of the Dawnflower, even if only his dream of her.

“Shush, you can hear the waking world now…”

Qakisst felt a throbbing in his head, but his dream was still clear. It was almost as if he were still in the dreaming world and the waking world at the same time; and the waking world was noisy and hurt his head.

“Goddess be damned, you are the poorest rich person I know.” Lena riffled through Qakisst’s possessions again, finding only a dagger, a deck of Harrows, a few charms, his ring, and a pair of wands. One was decidedly creepy, having been made of bone. “Maybe you have been blowing all your coin on that slut from the Pixie’s Kitten.”

Qakisst could feel the rope on his hands now, and around his ankles. Most decidedly, he could not feel anything else but the bed. Where in the world had she gotten rope? It took him a moment, laying there, to realize that what he thought was rope was the long red silk scarf that had been wrapped around his haramaki. It was too distinctive to sell. Any Varisi would recognize it as belonging to his adopted family. Qakisst dearly hoped that she had not torn it to bind him.

“You have to have some hiding place around here somewhere. Where is it?” Lena seemed to be crawling around under the bed tapping carefully on the floorboards. “Some of you adventurers can be pretty tricking about these things.”

Qakisst began to flex his wrists to see how tightly he had been tied. He had no desire to further damage his mother’s family scarf. He discovered that he had been very loosely tied, probably because he had put forth no resistance. Lena must believe him completely encumbered by whatever sleeping concoction she had used. Thinking that this is what this kind of stuff does to your head, Qakisst greatly regretted feeding it to Das Korvut’s dogs the one time. His head pounded, but slowly cleared. He was able to slip his hands out of the restraint, but if he moved more than that to free his feet, she would know.

His feet seemed a bit more securely bound. Carefully tipping up his head, Qakisst could see long leather strips tied his ankles to the bedpost. The b!!%# had tied him to the bed with his own boot laces. He really hated those boots now. Without moving his arms away from the restraints that no longer held his hands, Qakisst carefully aimed the little ray spell that he used to make frost or fire. Without a sound, he froze the first leather strap hard, making it brittle, then the other. The leather did not simply shatter with a flex of his legs as he had hoped, but had become so brittle that it should do so as soon as he moved.

Carefully, he moved his hands into the form that summoned great strength into his body, figuring he would have to restrain her; and hoping this would make it easier. A thought occurred to him. If she yelled for help, people might think he hand tried to force himself on her. Crap, this was going to get complicated. Qakisst flexed his legs again, and the added strength of his enhanced muscle sent little shards of frozen leather clattering to the floor.

“What? F*!$.” Lena came scrambling out from under the bed where she had been looking for a hidden compartment. Qakisst flopped his feet onto the floor as she realized she had picked the wrong side of the bed to clamber out from under.

“I should thank you. I hear they charge extra for these kinds of games at the Pixie; but you wanted to get kinky for free.” Qakisst shook his head as he realized that his thoughts were flowing much more freely now that he had accepted his fate. “Leave my things and go if you want. If you try to take anything I will not hesitate to take it back.”

“You’re not exactly armed right now,…” Lena pulled his pearl handled dagger out of her dress, “so I don’t think you get to tell me what to do; Sweetie.” Hearing the affection his hearth-mother had called him for the ten years they had been together sent him into shocking motion.

Qakisst whipped the scarf that until moments ago had bound him around and it coiled around Lena’s wrist as he yanked it tight. His motion carried him across the floor where his elbow connected with her jaw knocking her senseless. Lena slumped to the floor barely aware of what had just happened to her as Qakisst stepped back. Looking down he realized that the slight pinch he had felt was in fact his pearl handled dagger burying itself in his hip.

“Lanet!” Qakisst barked in pain as he pulled the dagger out. Blood gushed from the wound caused by his ill-conceived maneuver. Taking a deep breath, he called upon the healing energies of Sarenrae and closed the rather extensive wound above his thigh just as his door slammed open.

Qakisst readied his dagger and held his scarf around his left arm expecting the worst. Instead he found the masked Konnor at the ready at his door. “Hey, Qakisst are you okay? Whoa!!!! Um, I guess you figured it out.” Konnor was doing everything possible to look in any direction but at the naked ifrit. “Pants, man. They make them in your size!”

Qakisst sighed in relief and stepped back, securing his scarf around his waist so it hung down in front of him. “Figured out what? That I was being rolled? Yes, I figured it out a while ago. I just did not figure she would try to drug me. That will teach me not to live dangerously.” He stepped back from the door and sat on the bed. “Goddess, my head hurts.”

“Is that your blood all over your hand and leg?” Konnor pointed at Qakisst’s leg as he pointed his finely crafted wakizashi at Lena.

“<Yeah. Want to help take the trash out?>” Qakisst spoke with fire as he glowered at Lena slowly shaking her head on the floor; struggling to come to her senses.

“Isn’t that ol’ Gorvi’s job?” Lena looked at both of them with a sneer as Konnor spoke. “Yeah, sure. I guess I’m a garbage collector now. Empty your pockets toots. All of them; and I mean all of them.

“I’ll scream rape.” Lena’s vicious look made Konnor laugh.

“When they speak to your corpse you’ll be compelled to tell the truth. Empty your pockets, even the two hidden ones, then get out. No tricks either. Leave town and don’t bother to come back.” Lena emptied the hidden pockets inside her dress and moved around Konnor and slipped out the door to run for the back door. Konnor then pulled his mask off and snarled at Qakisst. “What the hell where you thinking? Did you actually know what she was planning in advance?”

“<Well, I didn’t know she was going to try and drug me.>” Qakisst sorted his few possessions from the pile of stuff left on the night table and pulled his breaches up under the long scarf wrapped around his waist. “Uhmm, thank you. For this morning, for coming to find me now, <I have been a real ass today and I am sorry.>”

“<I am not a bad guy, not really. But you are right; I am not a very trusting person. I have good reasons but I do not want to put them on all of you.> Get cleaned up and lets go get a drink. I’ll wait in the hall while you make yourself presentable.” Konnor pulled the door shut behind him and stood in the hall staring at the back stairs to the Dragon; wondering who the Varisi woman had been. Most Varisi treated each other like family; but apparently not all of them.

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