The carriage was conjured by magic, so there aren't really any clues inside of it.
There is, however, a treasure chest containing 50,000 gold. Payment for the Fangs, apparently.
On the ship, the priestess-captain claps herself on the chest proudly. "We pursued that lead on our own! And when we knew what we had found, we knew who we had to sell it to... we didn't even know there were other options!"
Unafe's eyes go wide at the sight of so much gold...far more than she's seen before.
Unafe purses her lips. "Interesting..." Is it just a coincidence then that the Fangs reappear, right after those monsters go after the Bound Blade?...that seems unlikely....
As her thoughts turn to the Bound Blade, Unafe's expression darkens and and turns sullen. Her eyes soften, as she starts to tune out the others on board and listen to the whispers of the spirits who surround them. Within a few minutes she's fast asleep.
The pirates sail up to Varisia over the course of the neck couple of days, looping around the Mushfens and, at Gallanda's direction, stopping off in Magnimar. Magnimar has been growing recently, though its Irespan is as impressively huge as ever, and the docks are busy and boisterous. There once was a temple dedicated to Aroden in this city, and the Book Club has purchased that building to use as a base.
The inside is still filled with Aroden iconography, though it is also stuffed with bookcases, and it has been renovated to have several reading nooks. There is only one other Book Club agent here, a vigilant guardsman (a well-armored and armed human, bald in the head, with deep scars all over his face and head. Mid-40s, carries a battleaxe and a brace of handaxes at his belt) named Olgierd who lets the party in and shows them to their rooms. At some point in the next couple of days, he goes to meet with the pirate captain and give over the Book Club's payment for the Fangs.
Upon landfall, Greg immediately gets off, and sets out to head right back into Nidal. He still has a lot of hunting to do, and while he has the tools (the sword) to do it, he's going to use it.
Cai'nan hangs from the rigging by one hand, looking out over the city of Magnimar as they approach the harbor. He took a deep breath...the air was salty with the smell of the ocean and the sweat of men laboring in the docks, much like home. Yet it was distinctly different. Horses replaced the scent of camels. The architecture was distinctly different also.
As they got closer, he slid down the ropes to the deck of the ship with a thud and a smile. He lands and begins bidding the gnomish sailors farewell as he dons his breastplate once more and gathers his things.
He guides Midnight off the ship and, once on land, he mounts up and waves once more to his gnomish crew and the ranger. He looks to the folks he fled Nidal with and follows them to their organizations base here.
After spending a couple days here in this "Book Club," as well as enjoying some of the highlights of Magnimar, he seeks out Olgierd. "Hey, pardon me, friend. But I believe that my original contract with your organization has concluded? I helped your men secure the artifact and kept the Mwangi girl alive. So, unless there is further need for my services, I take it I am free to go?"
Nicholas acts a bit like a child in a new place when he first sees Magnimar. A lifetime of living in Nidal has left him a bit fascinated by the gorgeous monuments and liveliness of the new city. Not having as much contact with the Book Club as the others (Simon had always handled that sort of thing), Nicholas finds himself exploring the city much of each day, taking drawings of the monuments and speaking with the brightly dressed Empyreal cultists who worship openly in the city streets. He finds himself wistfully wishing that his own homeland could be so open. But that was what he wanted to change one day. Though he does take the opportunity to wear his many colorful tattoos openly for the first time in years, pulling off the outer layer of his black robes and revealing the lighter grey sleeveless shirt underneath.
"Well, seeing as I'm now an exile and the people hunting the remaining artifacts are likely seeking my death, I would like to remain. If that's alright. I have very little to do with my life now other than continuing my crusade from the outside. Stopping the return of Kazavon seems like a good way to do that."
Just a couple of days after the group's arrival in Magnimar, a couple of familiar faces show - up the one-armed Simon and the halfling smuggler Diana. The Book Club puts them up in apartments in the city while they look for work and their own income - it was only right to get them out of the country after the club's operation upended their church.
Olgierd smiles at Cai'nan when he comes by. "I've been told by the leader of the order that she has a job for you. If you'll have it, we believe that there's related work for you all. It'll be a few days, though. If you can wait, you can be sure it'll be interesting work."
Nicholas is thrilled to see his friends made it out alive. He tries to visit when he can, if for no other reason than to make sure that Simon is adjusting to his new injury. Perhaps he can arrange for a regeneration at some later date.
As comfortable as the persistent gloom of Nidal was to Ciervo, he is more than happy to be out on sunnier waters. On a more covert mission he would probably be huddled somewhere below deck, but on the way to Magnimar he helps the pirates out as needed, though perhaps not with as much enthusiasm as Cai'nan. Nonetheless, his mood seems a great deal less dour than before. Perhaps of greater note is Ciervo's deathly pallor; the exceedingly simple disguise he had applied back in Pangolais had long served its purpose, and if it was not already obvious that he wasn't human, it was now. If he was ashamed to be the child of a monster, he certainly did not show it.
Ciervo was no stranger to Magnimar, either. Large cities made for excellent hiding places, and Riddleport had proven to be too... volatile. As soon as everyone is settled into the Book Club's base, the dhampir goes right back out to wander the streets. The shadow of the Irespan had a somewhat obvious appeal to him. More than once he had squatted in an abandoned building there. But that was then, before he had fallen in with the Book Club.
And of course, there was the matter of spending their rather sizable bounties. Ciervo did not consider himself petty, but he did find the thought of shopping with the Shadow Court's coin rather amusing. A shame that they had planned to cheap out on the pirates - the chest could have been twice as heavy.
Cai'nan shrugs, "You guys do realize I'm not actually a mercenary, right? I took the job mainly because it sounded like someone needed some serious help," he says as he looks around and nods his head toward Unafe.
He takes the hefty satchel of coins offered up as payment and cautiously heads out to Midnight. He pats the horses neck reassuringly before draping the coins across his stallion. He then rides out and begins looking for something reasonable to spend it on before a thief decides to try and relieve him of his earnings.
__________
Later in the day, Cai'nan returns but looks like a totally different person. He is now wearing resplendent, shining full plate armor trimmed in gold. A white cloak hangs off of the pauldrons behind him. While others so heavily armored would appear weighed down, he steps off of Midnight with more ease than ever before.
As he walks into the building, he seeks out Nicholas and says, "Well? What do ya think? Fits pretty good, huh?"
He pulls the man aside and adds, "Look, I know your friend, Simon, was it? Well, I know he is suffering. Losing an arm...I couldn't even imagine. But, if you are ever gonna find someone to try and fix it, this is likely one of the best places. And to that end, I wanna help."
He hands Nicholas a sizable ouch of coins. "500 gold measures. I don't know how much more it would take, but I wouldn't want to suffer like that..."
__________
Unafe looks on in awe at the city of Magnimar: the largest she's ever seen.
She is excited to wander, and to be out of the dreary gloom of Nidal. "It's so...big." she says to Nicholas and Cai'nan. "I've heard stories of the great cities of Avistan, but Magnimar wasn't even on the list. Are there...are the others even grander than this? How do you even know where to begin...?"
"There are some...I suppose," Cai'nan says, his tone turning somewhat sour, "Depending on who you ask."
Salla accepts her gold and with a small nod to the others slips out silently.
Unafe cocks her head at Cai'nan's comment. "Something about my question bothered you. I'm sorry."
Cai'nan smiles as he looks up to the taller girl. "Its alright. Just, I'm from one of these big cities. Arguably the grandest. Born and raised. And I didn't have the best of childhoods. My father and I...well...we just didn't see eye-to-eye on, well, anything."
He leans against his glaive, "So, I spent my younger years at first trying fruitlessly to earn his approval, then eventually just avoiding him outright. Spent more time with my uncle. Well, he wasn't really an uncle by blood, but may as well have been to me. He's the one who taught me to use weapons and how to wear armor properly."
Cai'nan' s eyes light up suddenly, "Speaking of! He is from here! How could I have forgotten!" He says as he steps over to look out a window at the cityscape with a new light.
Unafe smiles at the pale warrior. "Whatever your father did, you survived that childhood with a good heart. Honest. Caring."
She pauses. "I wasn't raised by my parents. I knew them, but when Old Aye saw that I was two-hearted he took over my care. My family...especially once Aye saw in the flames that my ancestor heart was Namane the Wise, everyone became very ōkawa around me.
"Everyone except my big sister," she smiles wistfully, "But the two-hearted aren't allowed to play with the kore-tapu. It is known."
As Cai'nan looks out the window, Unafe standing beside the warrior in his shining armor. "I think I'd like to explore this city. Where would you begin?"
Cai'nan nods in thanks. "I have two sisters as well, but both are younger. Kaylara is really nice and fun. Bethania...is more like our father."
At her question about seeing the city, Cai'nan smiles brightly. "Well," Cai'nan says excitedly, "Uncle 'Luca started his faith here at the temple to Arshea...but..." Cai'nan pauses as his cheeks turn red, "that may not be the best place. How about we just rent you a carriage and tell it to take us for a tour, and I'll ride alongside!"
Nicholas can't help raising an eyebrow when Cai'nan returns in a literal suit of burnished silver armor. "I see you're taking the knight in shiny armor thing seriously. Oddly, it suits you." He freezes up when he's offered the pouch of coins, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "That's very kind, especially for a man you hardly know. I have more than enough coin to hire a healer."
Cai'nan chuckles, "Yeah, I guess so, right? My father would have a fit..."
At Nicholas' initial apprehension, Cai'nan replies, "Yeah, I suppose, but we all did at the beginning of the day. But the burden shouldn't fall on just one of us, we were all there, and all of us were unable to get to him in time to save his arm, and in a way...we all did this to him. Literally. And it's in my nature to try and help those who need it: spent some time in Andoran, and then about a year or so helping Nirmathans against their Molthunite oppressors, before your organization contacted me about helping find those things."
He hands Nicholas the pouch and adds, "Use this for him, yourself, or whatever. But at least I'll know I did my part in at least trying to help the man."
He then follows Unafe to the street to flag down a carriage.
Nicholas accepts the bag of coins with a nod. "Thank you. I'll try to arrange a healer to see him as soon as possible. Preferably before we get wrapped up in whatever is coming next." He does a little math in his head and adds the rest of the cost to the purse for convenience. Then he heads off to the biggest temple in town. If they don't have a priest skilled enough to cast the necessary spells, surely they'll know where he can find one.
Unafe arches an eyebrow at the mention of Arshea. "While the Goapeke mostly worship our sacred ancestors, the saurian spirits, and Gorzeh, Old Aye educated me quite well about all the various Gods, Fiend Princes, Demon Lords, the Eldest, and the Empyreal Lords."
With a shy smile she says, "While we have no prohibition against it, the Goapeke boys were always too fiemālie--too uncomfortable--to lie with a two-hearted shaman. Would the cult of Arshea be a good introduction into the world of sex for me?
"As far as getting to know the city, I would love to explore with you but I think I want to get up close with things. Can we go by foot? I fear a carriage would just be a barrier between me and this bizarre, enormous city."
Cai'nan's cheeks turn a full fledged blushed, "Well...I uh, I guess...I guess so."
At her request to go by foot, Cai'nan eagerly takes the change of subject by the horns and runs with it, tieing off Midnight and then walking off into the city with Unafe.
Unafe furrow her brow briefly, unsure exactly why Cai'nan got so awkward, but decides to let it drop.
Instead she enjoys the walk through the cities shops and bazaars. She marvels at much, but the stall that draws her back is that of a Shoanti shaman and crafter of wonders. From her, Unafe comes back with four small ivory totems, a pouch of rare incense, a pearl that can can refocus her mystic connection to the ancestors...and a pair of shears that (the spirits whisper to her) will help her manipulate the fate of both friends and foes.
Unafe strings the single pearl around her neck and over the next few days often seems to have the shears in hand, frequently running her fingers over the engraved maiden, mother, and crone.
The largest temple in town, with the most revered and respected cleric, is a temple dedicated to Pharasma. Located at the edge of the town's graveyard, the temple appears to be similar to a funeral home, with marble floors, alabaster pillars, and quiet, well-dressed people wearing black. Nicholas is greeted at the door by soft-spoken, compassionate-seeming orderlies and led to the Head Priestess, a regal middle-aged halfling woman wearing ornate Pharasmin robes.
By her reckoning, it would indeed be 910 gold pieces to pay for a regenerate on Nicholas' armless friend. She takes the payment from him with a smile, a soft murmur of 'praise Pharasma', and a request that he come back the following day.
Over the time spent in Magnimar, Olgeird makes it clear that they are all waiting for something important, and that they would be well-served by sticking around. Those that are not officially part of the Club (Unafe and Cai'nan, that is) are given a copy of Centaur Skyles of Central Casmaron to borrow, just in case they might need it.
Nicholas absently wonders if he should have put his heavier robes back on before entering the temple. He smiles and pays the cleric what she asks before promising to return with his friend when she asks. He hurries off to go see Simon and tell him the news.
In the evening while all are gathered, upon recieving her copy of Centaur Skyles, Unafe turns to Ciervo, Nicholas, Olgrieg, and Salla.
"I appreciate your kindness in helping me out in Nidal, and risking your lives to keep the Fangs away from the Umbral Court.
"That said, I feel I still know very little about this Book Club. Who are you? Why do you do the things you do?"
As she asks she takes a look at her suspicious comrades and smiles warmly--showing off bright white teeth--hoping to put them at ease.
While it is relaxing to spend a few days recreating in Magnimar, the day comes when Olgeird summons the group to the Book Club base meeting room. The meeting room is on the old church's upper floor and is basically like the sitting room in a nice coffee house, nothing like an office conference room. Nice leather couches ring round coffeetables, a blackboard anoints one wall, and a raised wooden standing area is in front of the blackboard. Olgeird bids everyone to sit before he stands near the door with his hands behind his back.
After a few moments, the lamps which light the room dim a bit and then, with a slight bzz sound, the image of a woman appears on the lecture space. She is human, and she wears fashionable clothing in gold and white fit for a noblewoman. A longsword is strapped to her hip, and her silver hair is cut short. She appears to be in her mid-thirties. Members of the Book Club will know her as Gallanda, the order's leader, and that Gallanda is a silver dragon. Appearing via project image allows her to be present in meetings all over the world. Gallanda greets the group with a curt nod and hello, before launching into something of a lecture.
"I understand that you are the group which just ventured into Nidal and managed to ensure that the Fangs of Kazavon did not fall into the hands of the Shadow Court. You escaped alive, and ensured the survival of important contacts as well. First, I want to congratulate you."
"I am appearing before you today to ask you - official Agent or not - for your help in another of our missions. You see, one of you, the warrior Cai'nan, was sent to Nidal partially to secure the safety another one of you who sits before me."
She locks eyes with Unafe. "You, young woman, are key to one of our upcoming operations. I don't know what led you to Nidal, but I am glad that my people were able to get you out of there before the Shadow Court got its claws on you. I know about your tribe, the Geopeke, and their recent difficulty with Nidalese soldiers. And I know about your ancestral duty to protect the Bound Blade. Don't worry, it's not common knowledge, I've simply done my research. I also know that the Nidalese special forces has located the final resting place of your ancestor Namane the Wise, and that they plan to make a raid on such a place, believing that the Bound Blade is interred with Namane."
"I believe that you all are the perfect team to send in against this mission. First of all, you proved yourselves competent as a team. Second of all, none of you have any love for Nidal. Third, the fate of the world may be at stake. Fourth," she adds with a small smile, "Most of my other agents are tied up in other operations. However, I would never force any of you, and I intend to support the operation with the utmost in available resources."
"Concerns?"
Cai'nan listens patiently and quietly while the image speaks. When the opportunity for questions comes, he stands and steps forward.
"Cai'nan, ma'am. Just wanted to address a couple points you made. While it's true that none of us here seem to have any love for that accursed, colorless country. And perhaps the fate of the world is at stake, so you claim...but," he looks to the others quite solemnly, "we are far from a team. We fought well enough together, sure. But it has been more 'every-man-for-himself' than any real combat strategy or synergy. If we are going to be working together for a while, that is something that is going to need to be amended."
He then turns back to Gallanda, "Also, ma'am, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly is this 'Bound Blade' and what is it capable of? I find it hard to believe that one item is capable of worldwide domination. If such a thing existed, I know that there would be more people looking for it than just agents of Nidal."
"I am Ciervo of House Lorenz," the rogue starts, sitting back in his chair. "I very much doubt that you've heard of them. To say that they'd fallen on hard times would be an understatement; their situation has not improved since I left Egorian. If not for their blood, one could be forgiven for mistaking them for commoners. Of course, Lorenz is merely my mother's name. But then, my father's has no legitimacy at all."
Ciervo pauses, his mouth setting into a slight frown. Nothing new there. His next answer is considerably vaguer than the first.
"There are very few things I am good at. The only thing I have any control over is who I do those things for."
It is subtle, but Ciervo shifts uncomfortably when Gallanda refers to their group as a team. Being partnered with Salla was one thing. Forming a spur-of-the-moment alliance was another. But being a part of a cohesive unit? For someone like him, the concept was a fresh one. When Cai'nan looks to him, he nods stiffly, knowing that the warrior was right about more than one thing. His initial impression of the man being a mere mercenary was quickly changing.
"I take it that unlike the Crown, the Blade won't be in pieces," Ciervo surmises, crossing his arms over his chest. "We were able to carry the fangs without any ill effects, but can the same be said this one? And what are we to do if it is used against us?"
"I admit, I took a gamble that paid off when I hoped that my new... comrades would help me deal with the Court's enforcers. I'm willing to give it a try, but we still have... kinks to work out. But I have little else I can do right now, and the rest of my allies are on the run and in hiding with your friends anyway, so there's no reason for me not to take part."
It's clear that Salla doesn't like being around so many people, she slips away to do her shopping, returning a few days later and withdrawing into a quiet corner of the library. Hiding behind a book and trying to remain unnoticed.
When Gallanda calls the party together and gives them her new request Salla stays quiet. She's worked alone most of her life, but she found she can work with this group. Well most of them anyway. So she waits patiently to see what comes.
Gallanda nods. "If you do find the Blade, then no, it's not likely to be in pieces." She gestures at all of them. "And I understand if you're not comfortable with one another, but I hope that when I've finished explaining that you'll be willing to help."
"You see, each of the seven fragments of the dragon Kazavon is a powerful weapon on its own. The Crown for instance, gives its wielder powerful abilities of illusion, of polymorph, and of regeneration, just as the dragon Kazavon was able to trick, change, and dominate people to his will, and as he was nearly invulnerable."
"The Bound Blade too is powerful. Even a novice warrior could pick it up and be a powerful warrior, and it bolsters the undead around the wielder. Its most terrifying feature, however, is its ability to devour souls, just as Kazavon himself once was able to do. Each of the artifacts is intelligent as well, as far as I know. Each may try to turn its wielder to its own causes."
"The artifacts of Kazavon are not to be feared merely for their power alone. They are to be feared because with enough magical power, any one of them could herald the return of the great blue dragon himself, and if they are ever all brought together, Kavavon will return with all of his previous glory. Even when Mandraivus' Cabal, Namane included, had just killed him and attempted to completely scour his body, his parts still twitched and reached for one another."
"Other powers don't seek to reunite the artifacts simply because Kazavon is a creation and a servant of The Midnight Lord. He doesn't serve just any cause. It would be like freeing the Whispering Tyrant."
Unafe feels a torrent of emotion as Gallanda starts to speak.
"You believe that the Nidalese don't have the Bound Blade yet then? And you’ve discovered the grave of Namane the Wise?!" The eager wish to believe is transparent in her voice.
"When they came hunting for us, through our village..." Unafe stops suddenly, furrows her brow, and then starts again. "You ask why I was in Nidal. I...I was supposed to defend the Blade. It was my fate and obligation to be the one to keep those who would awaken its Evil at bay...but"--voice wavering--"I was also destined to have a great Heart awaken in me. Old Aye claimed my Ancestor Heart would be Namane the Wise himself. And..."
Unafe breaks into heaving sobs, barely able to will her voice to continue. "Perhaps I'm broken, a flawed vessel. Perhaps I have offended my Ancestor Heart. Perhaps Aye was wrong about everything. I don’t know but...but so much of what I always believed...it didn’t happen. Not like Old Aye foresaw.
“As the Nidalese came hunting, my people fled. I don’t know what they found, or who they killed. What I do know is that Aye had one last vision: that my destiny required finding my way to Nidal. So much hasn’t played out as he’d thought it would but I...I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and now here I am.”
A desperate eagerness rising in her voice, she continues, ”Perhaps it will all make sense. Perhaps I will fulfill my destiny after all. If you need someone to go and protect the blade from these Kuthonites, I pledge to do my best. At the least I'll go to join my ancestors attempting to honor our sacred obligation.”
Gallanda crosses her arms, regarding the group. "Take some time to think about it. Olgeird has literature on what we know about the mission, and is equipped to get you into position to start it, should you decide that you are ready. Let us know one way or the other. I have another meeting to attend."
With that, she flickers out of sight.
"Well, I might not have a deep spiritual reason for going along other than really hating how the Umbral Court worships their lord, but I suppose I can't say no when there's that much on the line. And I won't see Dou-Bral move even further from the light by letting his greatest weapon return and cause more pain and suffering for everyone."
Olgeird nods. "Well, it is an important task. Nidal is one of the greatest threats to international security and safety today, and opposing its more nefarious goals is high on the list of the Book Club."
"Come, I will lead you to your destination. We can arrange for various types of payment after the mission's completion, if you have other goals you all wish to pursue and want the resources to do it. Just let us know when you know." He stands up and leaves the meeting room, proceeding down a side hallway to another door, which he opens to reveal a small, plain wooden room with nothing but a chalk circle drawn on the floor. He withdraws a token which looks like a winged eye from a front pocket, and places it inside the circle. "Step inside the circle, please."
"As Namane's Tomb is thought to be near the Sodden Lands and the Mwangi Expanse, we'll be sending you to Nantambu. We have an ally there by the name of Nieford Sharrowsmith, who operates a trading company and a secret Pathfinder Lodge. He can help you get acquainted, but you'll need to find your own way to the tomb itself, wherever its specific location is." He withdraws a folder from a pocket that appears to be much too small to have contained it, and hands it to somebody. "This folder contains documentation on the task, what is known. We don't believe that the Nidalese are particularly close to finding the Tomb, but that they are on the right trail. Try not to dally too much."
Unafe steadies herself through shear will, though her fingers trace the carvings on her fate's shears repeatedly.
She nods to Olgried when he hands them the papers.
Namane's Tomb. Dizziness starts to overtake her, and she steadies herself with a hand on Nicholas's arm. Tuturutanga jumps from her usual place under her robes up onto Unafe's shoulder, nuzzling her saurian cheek against her human one.
She steps into the circle, takes a deep breath, and begins to leaf through the folder. Namane's Tomb...!
The next few pages are short explanations on how that location was found. There is documentation on Namane's ancestral home in the northwest section of the Mwangi Expanse, a historical map of the area before the advent of the Eye of Abendego, and a few spy reports on Nidalese research on the same subject. The conclusion is that Namane was buried somewhere in the indicated region in a ceremonial burial ziggurat. Because of the shaman's sacred duty to protect the Blade, it is believed that the Blade was interred within the ziggurat itself, which, according to burial traditions of the era, would have been tightly sealed and magically protected.
Of course, the death of Aroden and the advent of the Eye caused the entire area to become flooded swamplands. The next few pages are on expected local dangers. The region is known to play host to a tribe of Rovagug-worshiping boggards, a village of marsh giants, and cannibal Koboto humans warring with Sodden Scavengers, glorified graverobbers who steal from sunken Koboto cities. Besides the sentient dangers, the swamp is also full of monsters like tatzylwyrms, green drakes, shambling mounds, assassin vines, giant leeches, rot grubs, and even simple creatures like crocodiles.
There is a page on the Bound Blade itself. It once was one of Kazavon's claws, but it was forged into a blade by a fallen paladin of Abadar, and is now bladed with adamantine. It is a powerful weapon which enhances the strength of its wielder, any undead that are allied with the wielder, and which has the ability to completely consume and destroy the souls of those whose lives it takes.
And there is a page on the Nidalese opposition. Book Club reports have not yet picked up any Nidalese movement in the region. However, it is known that the one in charge of the recovery of the Bound Blade is a devourer named Shadowcount Osir. This devourer is a powerful undead, and intelligence suggests that it was once an apostle kyton, and before that a mortal human man. The resources that this Shadowcount Osir has at his disposal are significant, both in terms of finances, magical power and military manpower.
Ciervo waits until Gallanda vanishes before speaking to Cai'nan. "You were right - we will have to work on our teamwork. We should have held some combat drills while we were waiting. Next time, perhaps. But a proper rundown of our strengths and weaknesses is certainly warranted," he says in agreement, though there is some hesitance as he says, "There is little point in hiding anything."
He looks to Unafe with a frown when she wavers, struggling to... comprehend her. Her emotional outburst struck him as strange, and he did not understand this "Ancestor Heart" business, beyond the fact that it somehow connected her to Namane.
"Keep it together," Ciervo remarks to her as he steps into the circle, about as reassuringly as someone like him could manage. He opens his mouth again ever so slightly, as though to say something else, but quickly closes it. Regardless of what personal magnetism the rogue had, using it to comfort people clearly wasn't forte. Pretending to care would have been easier for him.
Apparently returning his thoughts to the business at hand, Ciervo eyes the sheets of paper and plucks one out of the folder, his attention caught by some detail. "A Shadowcount..."
"It sounds like the region is particularly treacherous. Not that the Sodden Lands have been a particularly happy place since the Eye formed. I wonder how many died in the initial collapse. And how many places like Namame's Tomb were lost when the kingdoms fell." Nicholas sighs and rubs his eyes. "Shadowcount? That's not good. Perhaps the first thing we should do when we arrive is try to get a better idea of the local conditions. It would be nice to know where the factions most likely to kill us and eat us are located."
Cai'nan listens to the woman's justifications, folding his arms across his chest as she speaks. Well, this surely doesn't sound good...that's for sure. It is something we should definitely keep out of the wrong hands. Like my father...
He nods to Ciervo, "Agreed, though my skill set, at least in a fight, is pretty straight forward. Perhaps, if we've truly earned one another's trust after this...we could all be a bit more forthcoming with each other."
He steps forward to the circle, "I hate teleportation magic..." he comments before placing a reassuring hand on Unafe's shoulder. He then slings his pack on his back and grips his glaive as he steps inside, nodding to Nicholas' suggestion as he waits for the magic to work.
Salla simply checks she has all her equipment and stands ready to go. Once again she contributes nothing to any discussion, though it's noticeable she stands closer to Ciervo than anyone else.
Her mismatched eyes move to the person speaking, but what she thinks or feels about their words is unclear.
One hand is constantly checking the Adamantine bayonet she found somewhere in Magnimar is in it's place at her hip.
Nicholas does know of Shadowcount Osir. He is one of Nidal's oldest and most fervent servants, having purposefully corrupted himself with shadow when he was an older human cleric in order to gain immortality and serve Nidal for longer.
He is powerful, ruthless, determined, though also dedicated to gentlemanly politeness. Its said that he always takes the opportunity to converse with interesting people, usually over distilled soul tea.
Being a devourer, he constantly has a hunger for souls, so he also demands a constant supply of slaves, just in case his essence pool runs low.
Nicholas's frown deepens. "They must really want the blade. Osir is a fanatic, even by Nidalese standards. He's also ancient and incredibly powerful, and has a taste for tea made from the souls of the dead. He's honestly a rather polite gentleman when he's not your enemy though."
Olgeird nods as everybody steps into the chalk circle. Loudly, he pronounces, "Sharrowsmith's Exports, Nantambu, the Mwangi Expanse!" and below your feet, the Arodennite token shines and flashes, along with the chalk circle.
You all experience a feeling like being slowly pulled down into the floor as the light envelops your fields of vision, and a slight dizziness. A buzzing sound gets louder and louder to accompany the brightness of the light. After a few seconds, the light, sound and feelings of sinking and dizziness all disappear all at once. You find yourselves in a cool stone basement. The basement has a relatively open floor plan, though there are a few wood partitions here and there. Behind one partition in a corner are a few cots, and also scattered about the room are tables, chairs, a tackboard, a couple of bookcases filled with old books, and several barrels of trade goods. One wall is dominated by a large steel vault door, and there is a trapdoor in the ceiling, near the center of the room.
Waiting for you on a nearby chair is a Mwangi man in his late forties. His hair is thick and long, dreads tied together into a ponytail that reaches nearly to his waist. He wears relatively plain clothing, although one hip boasts a longsword and the other boasts a mechanical calculator. His eyes are bright and blue and friendly, and he jumps up as you enter with a smile on his face.
"Hello!" he says, walking over near to you. "I've been expecting somebody, but... I am not sure, you don't look like the literary type, if you know what I mean."
As Olgeird announces their intended destination, Ciervo poises himself, ready to defend himself should any teleportation mishap occur. They never did in his experience, but it never hurt to be prepared. Of course, this is easier said than done when one is being flung a thousand or so miles to gods-know-where. Experiencing a brief dizzy spell, Ciervo blinks and finds himself somewhere else entirely.
When assassins do not immediately pounce on them, Ciervo relaxes his stance and nods to the Mwangi man.
"Perhaps not literary, but certainly literate," he says with a wry grin, sliding his knife back into its sheath. "Though, I am more a hobbyist than a scholar."
"Isn't there a book or something you're supposed to show the man?" Nicholas says, absently rubbing his eyes. "Ugh. Let's not travel like that again for as long as we can manage."
"We'll make a paranoid spy out of you yet," Ciervo says dryly as he pulls out his copy of The Centaur Skyles of Central Casmaron.
The man nods, smiles, and pulls out his own copy from a pants pocket... how did it fit in there? No matter, he puts it back and shakes your hands. "My name is Nieford," he says. "This is my trade shop, Sharrowsmith's Exports. I've been told to offer you room and board, which you can take advantage of down here in the basement."
He taps the trapdoor with a stick that leans up against a nearby pillar. He shouts, "Hassan! Close the shop!"
While he waits, he looks around at the group, nodding appreciatively at Unafe. "I was hoping that whomever would be sent would... fit in here. You'll need to be careful about that, friends. The cult of Walkena has spread far in recent years, and although you'll be safe in Nantambu, if you are seen by the Mzali fanatics, you will be followed and killed."
"If you have a way to disguise yourselves, that would be best, before you went out."
"Do you have any questions pertaining to your work? I don't know much about the reason you are here, and I'd prefer to keep it that way, but I can help you with local information if you like."
Mzali is north of Nantambu, but the reach of the fanatics spreads all throughout the Mwangi Expanse.
His followers sear themselves with fire to pledge their loyalty to him, and then rise from death more powerful than ever before in order to continue ridding the Expanse of invaders.
"I've been a paranoid spy all my life," Nicholas replies, equally dry. "But if they're close enough to overhear us here, we're doomed anyway, so there's no reason to beat around the bush. And I think I'm still suffering a little teleportation sickness."
He turns his attention back to their contact. "Disguises are easy enough. Are there any other factions that we should be made aware of? We received a rundown in our briefing, but it seems it was incomplete, since we haven't heard of these Mzali before now. Also, a map of where the different tribes and factions are most concentrated would be extremely useful in avoiding trouble."