Having moved up to the common room with the others, Connor agreed. ::Unless she is the best magician on the planet, I doubt she can listen in on Selvan's Network. But we should act as if Salishana can see and hear us at nearly every time she chooses, even back onboard the skyships.::
Outwardly, Connor talked with Gashon, telling him everything about the dinner.
"I doubt this Orc city holds any more secrets for us." he added to the half-fiend. "But if you're going to go back to Kalliert in a single jaunt, I'd like an extra day just to sleep before we do that non-stop flight again. That was rough on my feathers. I would like to make some power stones just for a journey like that."
Gashon nods. "No problem from my end. I can do some shopping for the kids. They're always wanting me to bring them things back. Maybe some weapons for the boys, and some poisons for my daughter."
Poisons? Connor thought to himself. "Er, yes." he weakly agreed. The most efficient power stone he could make for the return journey would be something to relieve fatigue. Connor could make a power stone for larger astral constructs, but the duration would be just a few hours with the materials he had left, while if he made them "on the fly" their duration would last half a day. The power stones he had made for his friends were more for battle than travel. Eating some of the food still packed for the palanquin would lighten the load, but if something happened and they crashed, Connor wanted any contingency covered.
"Did you want a non-stop flight back? Do you still have those potions that relieve fatigue?" Connor asked Gashon.
"Non-stop is safer, and yes, I have more potions. They're fairly cheap. Certainly cheaper than getting an arm regrown because we got ambushed by a Dragonne in our sleep while camping out in the wastelands." The large gnoll says with a deep rumbling laugh. "Alright then, we'll leave at dawn the day after tomorrow then."
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Dawn two days later, the group takes off. Another marathon flight session and they arrive back in Kelliart 48 hours after they left the Orc city.
Gashon's sons act about like you'd expect when he hands them each an oversized weapon, one a sword that looks like it has enough steel in it to make 10 swords, and the other an axe that looks like it would be used to chop down broom trees*. The daughter is much more restrained, although she does ooh over a small leather case full of vials.
"Well, I got nothing worthy of your talents, but you've earned your pay for the trip." Gashon tells the group, handing out small sacks of coins to each member. "Keep me advised of when you are staying or leaving, and I'll keep an ear cocked for anything before you leave."
The small bags contain the coins agreed upon for the job, plus a 5% bonus.
Broom trees are something like redwood trees, they grow about 30 to 40 feet in diameter, and about 400 to 450 feet high, usually straight up with no limbs, until they branch out widely at the tops, making them look something like a broom.
Reaghar crafts tattoos as folks ask for them, but does little else. He collects his coins, and is pleased to see the bonus.
Connor spent the next two days finishing his power stone crafting. He decided to make a power stone for Alys, since his talks with the elfavian during the last few days indicated she was developing her own mindpowers. Sure enough, he was able to "read" her using Selvan's Net, and crafted a reserve psionic item for Alys based on what he "saw" of her mind-talent.
The rest of the tiny needles, polishing cloth, and diamond dust Connor used in a final power stone for himself, choosing to make another astral construct redoubt, just in case. Connor and Hero both reasoned that if Gashon was flying back to Kalliert in a single day, it would be better to have all the firepower that they could muster on hand, rather that keeping some crafting material back. Connor hoped Salishana and her drow were not watching him or Reaghar at that very moment, since she seemed to want psionic crafters at any cost.
Connor finished writing Org’trassah and the Lands East on parchment, which was noticeably shorter than the report on Kalliert. The young Humanvian added a full page on Salishana and her Black Ice elves to the back of the report, detailing how psionics had survived on the Surface, and the potential ramifications. On the back of the pages Connor included the plans of the palanquin for holding Wingless passengers and cargo, as a prideful inclusion.
-----------------------
By packing early, finishing off the salted beef, and mostly sleeping the last day in Org’trassah, Connor felt completely rested the morning the half-fiend and his Atalantian guards, along with their Wingless "master" left the city.
Although Sam probably didn't like how Connor only replaced a fading astral construct when it ran out of time, causing the hammock-like craft to dip in flight. Connor did remember to stagger the constructs by several minutes each, however, so all four carrying the palanquin wouldn't disappear at the same time. They made Kalliert and its' river-split confines well within Connor's mental limits.
------------------------
"A safe flight is a boring flight." Connor responded pleasantly with an old quote from home. Checking over Selvan's Network, he added, "We're still available, if you have another caravan guard employment opportunity. We'd all like to spend your coin here in the city first, but I think we'll be here at least another fortnight."
Connor arranged for a group of inn rooms nearby, within Gashon's network, but not as obvious as staying within his warehouse. He moved the palanquin and all of his equipment into the room, got his psicrystal back from Sammark, and then, stifling back a series of yawns, went shopping.
Connor went to the exotic end of the bazaar first, finding an allied merchant who knew Gashon to buy the coveted griffon mane fabric. Finding a tailor who didn't spend half his time examining his white, stork-like wings was harder. (Connor wondered if the feline owners had an arrangement with the scriveners for pin feathers.)
After the long session with the tailor merchant, Connor went to fulfill a promise made to his other self. It was nearly dusk when the humavian found a temple of Bast willing to cast make whole for him. Connor wasted a lot of time first looking at the wizards' guilds, who wanted to ask more questions about himself and his "family heirloom that must be repaired" than he was willing to answer. The robed clerics were less inquisitive and more accepting of a "donation" to repair his "signet seal", even though one or two acolytes still peered at him intently. Connor would have to return the next day, however, after the priests of Bast had made their prayers.
Connor wrote in his journal by lamplight in his room, and figured that out of the 50 pages he had 14 left. Maybe he should get another one, in case the return trip of the Ashen Edge and Blade was longer than the trip here.
The next morning Connor was walking to the Bast temples for his spellcasting.
Make Whole at 4th Level:
By noon he was back in the marketplace, this time for more mundane purchases, including a metal lantern he intended to make like his signet ring, once he figured out how Sammark did the mindpower. Connor also purchased more power stone-crafting materials, as well as converting some of his gold coins into gemstones. Hero's comments were met in stride as Connor compared gems.
Connor tried to see the tailor at first light, but was told to come back in late afternoon. So the young man decided to walk the city again, looking for book merchants this time. But he was dissatisfied with what he found, so Connor instead followed the sound of hammers and the stench of smoke to the metalsmiths. After a few hours of watching nails being made, Connor wandered around the jewelsmiths' shops, comparing quality more than anything else.
Finally Connor went back to the tailor shop, where last-minute measurements and adjustments for his wings didn't let him walk out until just before sunset. Connor tested his new clothes with a quick flight to the inn's roof, and found the experience exhilarating.
SElvan will mostly just keep his head down and take notes.
The group ends up having a couple of weeks of discounted stay in Kelliart, with nothing major coming up (you can use the time in retraining, or you can use the time to make money using a profession or craft skill).
When the two weeks are up, the group flies out of town. Sammark stays behind, to live with his wife, bidding farewell to the group, a changed man.
Once picked up, the captain is a bit upset about Sammark and Elrohir, but by the same token, she can't really blame Sammark, and Elrohir apparently insisted on staying by himself, so the group is not at fault.
Connor finds the diamond Sammark was carrying in his pack. Along with the bag of gold coins that Sammark took from the temple. The lockpicks are still in his belt pouch.
Connor had Reaghar, Selvan, and Sammark pay for their own rooms during the two weeks, since Gashon didn't have a high-paying warehouse guard job for them. Finding a cat-person pottery shop that let him make Atalantian-style bowls, cups, and plates was hard enough. Connor just barely made enough gold coins to keep them in the inn.
Connor had Reaghar finish out his list of psionic tattoos.
Connor met with Gashon before the Atalantias left Kalliert, thanking him for the employment and offering to recommend his business to anyone else he came across in the future.
Sammark's goodbye was so brusque Connor almost spent the last week looking for the half-elf if Selvan had not stopped him. Disappointed, Connor secretly put Sammark's visage on several of the pottery items before they went into the kiln for firing and to be sold after they cooled. Connor also added "Find the halflings" in Auran script on some of the pottery he crafted at the pottery shop.
After confirming through Selvan's Net that Alys could actually cast powers now, Connor gave her a power stone of her own with emergency mindpowers.
The flight to the rendezvous point with the Ashen Edge and Ashen Blade was almost anticlimactic. The palanquin was much lighter without a passenger, and Connor had sold the surgeon's tools and his old traveler's clothes, to lighten the load further. He had his new outfit, and his growing power to "borrow" the surgeon's tools when needed. Taking a page from Gashon's book, the adventurers flew high and fast, and with Connor manifesting to alleviate their fatigue, the party avoided the jungle below.
Meeting up with his former crewmates was easier than Connor had dreaded. Captain Selena evidently had told her staff some of the truth as to why the six had left the Edge. The palanquin, and their arrival, was remarked upon, but Connor was allowed to keep his equipment, rather than having it all confiscated, which he appreciated.
Selvan and Reaghar went to their own skyship, the Blade, while Connor and Alys continued on with the Edge.
Connor found the halfling temple items when he was unpacking the palanquin that night. Not fair, Tenfa. Connor muttered. I can't guarantee all your gifts won't blow up as soon as Ash comes into view. I will tell the truth, that these are divine items, when we arrive and anti-magic Customs shakes us down like a badger looking for honey in a fallen tree trunk. Our scholars are confident that the same wild storms that keep the dragons at bay will destroy any godlings' artifacts or manifestations as well. Unless you choose to remove your blessings on these items before we arrive, like you did before, and wait for us to return to your awareness again. Connor wondered how he was going to explain all of this to the 'tel Mintakias. A large diamond, money he couldn't spend, and lockpicks better than masterwork. All with strings attached. Connor sighed.
Now now deary, I'm not the goddess of trickery for nothing...
Alys approoaches Captain Selena: "Captain, it turned out that the local orcs have dealings with a dark elven ambassador who not only was among the few who recognized us as Atalantians but was also eager to meet us. Apparently they have a trade proposal, concerning psionic materials.", she hands over the scroll.
The captain looks pensive. "Psionic materials? They knew they were psionic, or they are crystals and these dark elves don't know what they have?" She takes the scroll and reads it over, putting on a pair of glasses that glow slightly when she's reading. "This just seems to be a missive granting the bearer docking privileges in any port in their country."
"They actually know what they are dealing with, as opposed to the locals. As a matter of fact, the dark elves seem to be able to manifest psionic powers themselves. And they know that we can too."
Upon the Captain's comment about the scroll she adds: "Ooh, an open invitation for shenanigans!"
Connor came up, as he was watching and waiting for this moment. "It's worse than that, I'm afraid." he added. "Captain Selena, these Black Ice Elves, these Wingless drow, have had basic psionic powers and psicrystals for generations from a fallen skyship crew. They've learned to integrate what powers they have with their natural magic. They have hundreds of pounds of mundane crystal and deep crystal stored, somewhere. The drow have been luring other psionics with their wealth, watching for people like us, for years. The only weakness I saw is that none of their psions retained any crafting ability."
Connor handed the Captain an elaborate earring, made with deep crystal . "Here's what they put in marketplaces to see who picks it up as more than lesser quality jewelry." he told her. "Even the drow's beastmen servants had psicrystals. Their ambassador, Salishana, is a master at organization, at control. If the 'Eternally Frozen', as they call themselves, get enough crafters, I have no doubt we would be seeing psionic weapons and artifacts on the Surface in short order. Right now these drow are limited in what mind-energy they have per day. If they somehow obtained the ability to craft power stones and tattoos and cognizance crystals..." Connor let the Captain draw her own conclusions.
"Than they still wouldn' have guns, airships, air superiority, and a difficult to reach nation surrounded by an aura hostile to their native magic." Selvan says over the network. "Speaking of which I've come to a decision. Come to me when it's convenient Connor."
"Oh yes, that too," Alys rubs the back of her neck, "Did I forget to mention that?"
The captain makes a face. "Oh the joy." She says with a lack of enthusiasm. "Keep that to yourselves for now. It's above my pay grade, thankfully. I'll keep the document in the ship's safe for now. Make sure you put any magical items in the vault. I'm sure your boss will want a full debriefing."
Connor nodded, saying "Aye, aye, sir." in acknowledgement. His concern was more with a certain diamond, bag of coins, and set of lockpicks. Did divine count as magic? Gashon's communication broach was easier to classify. "But keep the earring, Captain. In case someone wants proof with the drow scroll. It'll be your loot from our mission, as well." he said to the pirate captain, smiling.
---------------
Later Connor got to the railing opposite the nearby Ashen Blade. ::All right, Selvan,:: he sent. ::What did you want? I can send over an astral construct if you need help.::
"No. I need you down here in the engine room personally. If I wanted to do it over the network it would have already been done."
::All right, give me until the mail call.:: Connor responded. Flying back and forth from the Edge and the Blade wasn't at all unusual, and Connor was off-shift for another couple of hours, but he didn't want to be seen making a special trip. Tongues wagged, and Connor did not want to run into the wrong people making their rounds.
So when it came time for the daily "mail run", of written messages and logs between the mates and engineers of both ships, Connor volunteered, seemingly out of boredom. Once on the Blade, Connor made his way down to the engine room, avoiding anyone of higher rank.
Warning the elfavian of his arrival through their link, Connor finally got to Selvan's work station. ::Here I am, Selvan.:: Connor said, using the net instead of trying to talk over the steam whistles and noises of the engine room, ::Why the importance?::
As he says this Selvan presses something into his hand. A simple small journal book with a slightly larger sealed letter tucked inside it.
"This goes to a certain s$&% head named Kalvant who likes to set up drunken men for the sole purpose of making them do his s++~ work. Tell him I said thank you for saving my life and I hope he burns in hell. I'm staying signed on with the Blade. The book goes to him personally and contains all my notes about the surface and our little misadventures. Don't bother trying to read it. I already know you can't."
"Wha?" Connor sputtered, surprised and a little offended on his intelligence. "So you're going lifer on the skyships?" Without waiting for an answer Connor yelled back "I'm still telling the Captain how you saved Alys' life that time!" He wished he had a better going-away gift with him, but Selvan's resignation was too sudden.
Connor departed back to the Ashen Edge.
The flight back is relatively peaceful, although there are a few dragon sightings in the distance (mostly smaller ones, seemingly following the ships) until they fly out of sight of the mainland for a day or two.
Connor puts the gem, the bag of coins, and the lockpicks in the magic blocking chest before the ship comes into view of the islands.
The ships dock with a ratty looking dock on a floating chunk the size of a small hill, and the crews begin celebrating, most flying to the local bars on the hill, the rest winging toward the main islands.
Connor, Alys and Reaghar fly toward the main island. Alys's 'hideout' is still where it was, Connor and Reaghar's rooms are already rented out, were before they left, so the trio lands in her place for now.
Hey boss, you should check this out, and get it the hell away from me! Hero's voice shouts in Connor's head as he climbs out of Connor's backpack as hard and fast as he can the next morning.
Looking in the pack, Connor finds a fist sized diamond, a set of lockpicks, and a small bag of coins nestled in his blanket.
The next morning, Alys and her companions are awakened by a loud nasally voice. "Yo! Boss, you back! Cool. I was told to tell you to head for the Drunk Goose when you're back. I wouldn't keep the lady waiting, you know how she gets when she's waiting, she starts singing trio's with those damn guns."
"So glad to be home, to see all you wonderful people again! Almost forgot you exist.", Alys stumbles out of her bed. "almost..."
As she spots her companions investigating the source of the noise Alys motions toward the young man: "Guys, meet Squishy. He... does things."
The sight of home from the Ashen Edge was more than Connor could bear, at first. No more Surface. No more Wingless beast-men. No more overpowered magic users. Just what was 'normal'.
Connor didn't even try to hide his astral constructs as they flew his loaded palanquin along with Alys and Reaghar. No need for subterfuge, he was a psionist, like most of the population. No more magic. It felt good to fly without beast-children looking up and pointing, or guards nervously holding spears in his direction.
------------------------
Which was why, when Hero crawled out of his backpack the next morning, he was both startled and filled with foreboding. Well, Hero, he commented, holding the diamond up to the morning light, we still have obligations, after all. He'd have to disguise the gemstone, so he could put it outside his backpack without attracting every thief in the city. Maybe a basket of yarn to hold it.
His morning mediation resulted in even better news. Connor awoke to new complexities in his head. New depths. New powers. A healing manifestation, which was fortuitous, with Selvan being gone, and some kind of energy wall. It would be thin, but a combat multiplier on the battlefield. Connor winced. There he went, talking like his uncles again.
But he had a shopping list, with things he had been wanting for years, to fulfill this morning. Then there was the matter of the 'tel Mintakias. Connor considered leaving six or seven Humavian-sized astral constructs in the room with instructions to treat all strangers to "rend". No, that would never do. Better to look like a sailor with gold burning a hole in his pocket first, and then contact his real employers. Maybe with an astral pigeon.
Meanwhile, he needed something like a forge to play with. Connor had some ideas about using his powers in more than just gemstones. It would be harder without Selvan's Net, but the ideas itched in his mind, wanting out. And Alys. Her change into a manifester was cause for celebration, but the young woman had less mindpower than an adolescent. That was the goal of most crafters, to hold powers and energy in crystals. It was popular to go the clockwork route, but Connor didn't have a guild or a Clan to support him learning how to make automatons. He wanted something more...personal. But Connor already had numerous tattoos and power stones on him. He looked down at Hero. "I need you to hold powers." Connor told his crystalline junior. "So you can heal yourself next time. C'mon, lets go get you a staff to ride on." The young Humavian dressed in full gear, since he didn't want to leave it behind, should certain Clan clandestine members come get him again.
Connor left the room and went to unlock the front door, to let in the morning sunshine. He was beat to it by someone entering.
"So who's 'the lady', Squishy?" Connor asked good-natured. He looked sideways at Alys. "Or should we armor up before we go meet her?"
The boy begins to sulk. "Squeaker, Squeaker, not Squishy." He then grins an evil grin. "Wear armor or not, with her, it wouldn't matter..."
"She goes by the name of Deathnote. Likes shooting things. And I would want to say she doesn't care about collateral damage but I think that would be wrong. Seems more like she actively seeks to cause it. And then make even more of a mess afterwards. Let's just hope she's not on a job.", Alys's face contorts to an expression of disgust, as she recalls the scene of their first encounter.
"R-i-i-g-g-h-t." Connor drawled. He turned to the elfavian. "Even if Selvan, McAlister, and Sam were here, we might need to 'blow up the building.' Did you want to take care of this yourself, Alys?" Connor asked.
"What, you're not aching to meet her yet?" Alys grins, "I think I can handle her."
The boy nearly collapses laughing, tears streaming down his face.
Then he scoots out of the room fast before Alys can do anything like hit him or shoot him. As the trio follows him, he scoots ahead to stay out of arms reach.
The boy leads the trio down to the Drunk Goose. It's a dive type tavern on the rough side of town.
Upon entering, the trio see a tavern full of rough types. There's one table in the corner though that has only one person sitting at it. It's so noticeable because the three tables next to it are all empty.
There's a lot of tension in the room, despite all the jovial laughter and talk. A lot of the laughter has a nervous edge to it. As if there were a bomb sitting in the room.
The person sitting at the table is a youngish looking elvavian with jet black hair and matching black feathered wings. Her eyes are bright violet, and her skin pale as snow. She wears jet black armor that is skin tight, obviously more psionic protection than material protection.
A pair of overly long revolvers hang from her hips, one black as night, the other a pale silvery white like pearl. Her boots are up on the table, and she's leaning back into the corner, her wings folded behind the chair. She's watching the trio of musicians, swinging both index fingers on her hands as she keeps time with the melody they play.
The musicians are terrified.
As she sees the trio enter, she grins, sharpened pointy teeth, eerily like those of the cannibals Connor ran into on the surface, shine forth in her mouth. She waves Alys and her group over, somehow keeping her wave in time with the melody.
The woman doesn't say anything until the musicians finish, then she sits up in her chair, ignoring the musicians, who leave the smallish stage and move quickly but at a walk to the exit and vanish, not stopping to pick up the coins on the stage.
"Ooh, Alys! You're alive! I didn't expect that! It's so nice to see you managed to keep your head on your shoulders! And all the other bits attached too!" She looks to Reaghar and Connor, and licks her lips. "Oooh, he's yummy looking, you nasty girl you, running around with two boys." She leans toward Connor. "I bet he squeals doesn't he?" She winks at Alys and then leans back in her chair. "So, who's tall nasty and tasty, and who's short tasty and squealy?"
"So is everyone in the room. I also didn't expect that.", Alys responds to the greeting dryly. "I hope we can keep it that way this time."
"Let's call them the Sculptor and Inkmaster." she goes on indicating Connor and Reaghar in that order. "So what's this about?"
"There's only two bounties in this tavern, Alys dear. And I'm not supposed to take yours." She grins, then points at Reaghar. "You'll do, you look like more use in a fight than Squealy does. Your patron is letting me... borrow... one of your people, for a job they have for me. Mostly so they can confirm I did the job. Not that I wouldn't, but it's paperwork stuff, independent verification of completion blah blah pinfeathers." She waves a hand. "Anyway, your patron heard you were back in town, and with less than half the toys you were sent out with, and was concerned. So you should meet them tomorrow on an old boat that will be about halfway between here and the worst possible place in the isles." She winks. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Connor accompanied Alys against his better judgement. But they had been a team on the Surface, so he couldn't abandon her now. Connor just wished that part of Alys' past had been forgotten. Something about assassins, and Connor's McIntyre upbringing considered assassination, well, uncouth. Open battle was cleaner.
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Seeing the woman in person only confirmed Connor's worst fears for Alys' background. He flinched when the ravenhair got near; what was it about women and their expectations of him? Connor wasn't handsome, by anyone's standards . Not a word Hero, I know your nearly immortal and will live long beyond me, but I'd not like your solitude to start now. he warned his psicrystal. How to defeat someone like her? Revolvers' bullets could punch through psychokinetic shields. Your only hope was to dodge or block with something truly substantial.
The woman was taking Reaghar, Connor realized, clamping down on his emotions. First Sam, now this. We wouldn't be losing people if not for others taking them. he grumbled internally. Connor cocked his head to one side, eyes still on the assassin. Logic didn't even have to speculate: somebody put an airship halfway out to Ash from Atalantius. But was that straight-line from the city, or as the continents curved? What was wrong with the library office?
"Interesting. I could use a change of pace. Not a big fan of crawling through holes in the ground and bartering with dogmen."
Larissa grins, and moves to her feet in one fluid motion. "Excellent! We have people to beat and time to kill." She says, then leans forward and stares Alys in the eyes. "Or rather, the other way around. Remember cookie, half-way to hell and back, from here." As she says 'here' she digs a fingernail into the table top, leaving a score in the wood.
Then she moves to the nearest doorway, unfurling her wings. "C'mon big and sour looking..." She jerks her head at Reghar.