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"Heh, you wouldn't believe us if we told you the whole story. Let's just sum things up by saying that your Queen is trying to take over the world and has created a bunch of magical portals to make it winter everywhere. We came from Taldor and we're going to try and stop her."
"I know, I know. It sounds crazy. But, yeah, if you can get us into the city, we're going to take a crack at it. So anything you can tell us about the way things work in Whitethrone would be helpful. Assuming you don't mind if Elvanna bites the dust."
Somewhat ignoring the conversation, "Huh, my hands feel sticky."
Somewhat ignoring the conversation, "Huh, my hands feel sticky."
Maka paused chewing as she visibly processed what Hace said. "Are you turning into a newt!?"
"No, just bet I could climb a flat wall." Hace replies.
Bulvi peers at Hace "They'd need to be very sticky to pull that off."
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Sometime after he came to terms with the loss of his wife and son, Ringeirr was contacted by the underground resistance group called the Heralds of Summer’s Return. These resistance fighters in Whitethrone are members of a clandestine cult of Milani who maintain a secret shrine to the goddess in the city. After meeting them, Ringeirr found a new purpose in helping the oppressed people of Whitethrone. Now an agent of the Heralds, he smuggles the desperate out of the city and brings in much needed supplies to the resistance.
Ringeirr makes it clear how difficult it has become recently to get in and out of the city. that Queen Elvanna has seized power from her mother, Baba
Yaga, and intends to remain on the throne on Irrisen. He also adds that she has removed the Iron Guard from power and instituted a new military force in its place, the Winter Guard, loyal to her alone. Elvanna has also declared martial law in Whitethrone, making it extremely dangerous to go
through the city’s primary gates. Traffic still passes through the city gates, but it has a slowed to a crawl, with large contingents of the Winter Guard performing thorough searches of anyone entering or leaving Whitethrone.
Entering the city isn’t the only problem, Ringeirr explains—citizens are routinely checked even within the city. you need papers authorizing their movement throughout Whitethrone, not just through its gates, but
Ringeirr thinks they might be able to exploit a loophole. He describes a privileged group of Jadwiga called stilyagi, young nobles known for their outlandish behavior and styles of dress. Like-minded stilyagi form gangs that adopt the cultural and stylistic trappings of other lands and
peoples—even pretending to be adventurers from other nations. With their wealth and indolent lifestyle, stilyagi are also notorious for the recruitment of foreigners (even those of other races) to Whitethrone to act as companions, teachers, and advisors—at least until they grow tired of them. Ringeirr suggests that the group could take the roles of stilyagi and their foreign guests to move about the city.
Maka again grew angry at another story of the witches' foul deeds. Her righteous anger combined with her frustration at the defensive measures the city had in place. "These witches are really looking to avoid the beating coming their way!" She growled with an accompanying fiery huff. Her manor suggested she honestly felt anyone would do otherwise. "Do you think we can pull off pretending to be these stilguys? I'm not good with words like Hace and Quasit. Oh, what about Quasit's cloak!?" Maka exclaimed in realization.
"We are in a city. Where there's a city, there's crime. I'm sure we could purchase the proper paperwork as well, forged by unsavory hands. Depending on the price, I'd prefer this route, it allows us more freedom without being beholden to others." Hace thinks out loud.
"I'm Ulfen but if I'm he local fop I'm not sure how convincing I can be..."
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Quasit had immediately settled down in a warm spot and settled down to eat, gratefully and eagerly accepting all distilled spirits that might accompany this repast. She lounges on a couch covered with skins like a pasha, kicking off her boots to let her bare toes wiggle in the wind.
At the mention of the cloak by Maka, Quasit sits up and pulls out the item in question. "We got this off a winter wolf. I guess its called a rime pelt and has some magic that lets the wearer look like a winter wolf person. It might help at least one of us get past the guards."
"So Ringeirr, it looks like you were definitely the right person to come to. It never fails -- a tyrant takes over, and you can bet the resistance movement will crop up the next day. All hail Milani! Now, we're going to need fake papers. Do you have any contacts in your organization that can make us some?"
"Oh, and one other thing, one of the reasons we came to Whitethrone was to find Baba Yaga's hut. Do any of your people know where it might be? We're trying to get it away from Elvanna's clutches."
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Sakitu plops down on the couch next to Quasit and listens to Ringeirr's plan. It sounds complicated and like lots of things could go wrong. Disguising herself shouldn't be too difficult. Quasit has the rime pelt. Fin is obviously an elf and Bulvi an Ulfen. Both of those guys would easily pass as foreigners. Maka, the aasimar, they can probably make her look outlandish. Hace is just a plain human though. Oh! But with blue hands!
"Hace! Those hands are perfect for the disguise" Sakitu blurts out. "Did you plan that?"
"Hace you're so smart, always thinking ahead." Maka said with a wide grin. "Okay, so we pretend to be Stilguys to get in to the city, and then we can give the witches a whooping. Oh and find the hut."
"Blue hands? What are talking about?" Hace says as he holds up his perfectly normal, albeit sticky, hands. "As for outlandish stuff, I'm a crocodile tamer, obviously." he says with a sly smile.
"And the papers, lets see if anyone makes forgeries around the city, it seems pretty likely that someone is capable of doing so." Hace says hoping that their informant chimes in.
"In this kind of cold if you aren't wearing gloves outside you're being rather foolish, I'll tell you that now."
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Ringeirr knows an eccentric forger in Whitethrone who not only can prepare the correct documents, but also knows the secret household symbols of many of the city’s Jadwiga clans and can reproduce them with arcane marks for added authenticity. The forger, a man named Mortin, lives on the borders of the district known as the Howlings, which is predominantly controlled by winter wolves, but it is the one district Ringeirr feels he might be able to get the group through and into the city. Thanks to an ancient pact with Baba Yaga, winter wolves can assume human form in the Howlings. The “Howlings Gate” is not a gate at all but rather a hole in the city wall that gives the wolves unrestricted access to their district. The wolves are responsible for security of the district, and Ringeirr knows they’re often lax about it and susceptible to bribery.
In exchange for his help in entering Whitethrone, Ringeirr does ask for your assistance in a side mission. If he is going to get them into the city and take them to Mortin, he wants to do so while bringing food to desperate humans who are going hungry, and he’d like their help in making the delivery.
Bulvi thinks before leaning in conspiratorially. "Do you know what kind of meat the Winter Wolves like... it might help with the bribing process. How much food do you want us to- I guess we'd be smuggling it in? How much food are you thinking for us to smuggle in?"
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"Perfect!" says Quasit after hearing all this. "We'll go through this Howlings Gate tomorrow and visit your forger friend and then we'll be set! And I for one have no objection to bringing food to hungry people."
She reclines back, lays her head on Sakitu's lap, and throws her bare feet over the armrest of the couch. "And if I use this rime pelt thing to look like a winter wolf person, bribing our way through the gate may not even be necessary. Or at least significantly cheaper. I love it when a plan comes together!"
She smiles up at Sakitu and then tickles her under the chin.
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"You know, that is perfect." Sakitu stares at Quasit's blue hands. "I don't know why I thought that happened to Hace. I think that the stress of this whole situation is getting to me. But now we have a plan." Her shoulders shudder and she squeaks a little when Quasit tickles her chin.
"Stop it." She slaps her hands down with a giggle. After a moment of fighting Quasit's blue fingers she looks up to the rest of the party. "Oh. Yeah. We should probably get ready."
Barely stifling more laughing she wriggles free from the rogue and hops to the floor. "Yeah, how much food? And where do we get it from?" She makes a concerted effort to be serious.
"No problem, we can bring food in for them in exchange for that information. What challenges will bringing the food in face? I can't imagine food being illegal, but maybe certain quantities are?" Hace replies.
"We'd bring food to hungry people even if we didn't need their help. That's hitting two rocks with one bird."
I can't imagine food being illegal, but maybe certain quantities are?" Hace replies.
"Making food illegal!?" Maka growled angrily with an accompanying puff of smoke and flame. "I really hate these witches. I'm going to go punch some trees." She said as she rose to go outside.
"Just don't set them on fire Maka. Maybe Quasit's hands will be a bit better in the morning."
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"Reminds me of a song I heard in an Absolam saloon."
"#Take time with a wounded hand, because it likes to steal...#" Her singing voice is basically in key, but no one would mistake her for a bard. "I can't remember the rest. It was catchy though. A lot of people around the city were humming it for days after. I remember there was a half-orc named Mokk back at the Society who used to sing it to me to tease me. Gods, if he could see me now."
"Hey Ringo, you have anything a little stronger to drink around here? We're celebrating."
"Just don't set them on fire Maka. Maybe Quasit's hands will be a bit better in the morning."
But I'm angry and the trees here smell like spices when you burn them! Agh fine, but come and fight with me then. You can show me that sword trick you used on the ogre."
"Careful Maka. Knowing this place, the trees might fight back."
"Really!?" Maka responded with excitement. "I've never actually fought a tree before. They probably hit like a dire horse and take a blow like...well a tree."
"Maka, I just don't understand. Why would you want the trees to fight you?"
Maka went deep in thought for a moment. "Well trees would be really old and strong right? That means it would be a fun, tough fight that would help me get stronger. Mmm but yeah it wouldn't be nice of me to set them on fire, especially if their dryad friends are there. Okay, I'll just fight Bulvi and snowmen then." An exciting thought flashed through Maka's mind. "Sakitu, can you use your magic to make super tough snowmen that fight back!?"
Bulvi gives Sakitu a wary glance. "Sakitu if you dump a bag of flour on me to fulfill Maka's suggestion I will not be amused."
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Quasit is looking at her blue hand again, flexing her fingers, then squeezing down into a a fist, and repeating the cycle like a slow exercise regime. "Did I ever tell you guys about my dad?" she says suddenly. "He got his hand cut off for stealing. His right hand. It ruined his life. I mean, he was always a bit of a loser, but he was trying at least. And I've never known a kinder, sweeter person. But you think the Taldan magistrates cared about that?"
What had started out as a mild remembrance is tinged at the end with more than a hint of bitterness. She grimaces, as if realizing that she's spoiling the mood. But she can't help herself.
"Not only is it hard to find day-work when you only have one hand, but everyone knew why he lost that hand. They should have just cut off his head."
She thinks about this, her sudden bitterness apparently only growing. Then she snorts out a sardonic sound. "And here I am trying to save those bastards."
She's finished with waiting for Ringeirr to give her liquor too. She hops up, pads over to the pantry, and digs around until she comes out with a bottle. She opens it, sniffs it and gives a low whistle. "Whew, what is this? Moonshine or alchemist's fire?" Then she gives a swift bottoms up and glugs down three big swallows. Which causes her to then give a swift shake of her head and a gasping cough. "Oh my... I think I found the good stuff."
Maka stopped trying to drag Bulvi outside as Quasit began to speak about her father. "Yadi aap prakaash kee talaash karate hain, to aap ise khoj lenge. Lekin agar tum andhere ko khojate ho, to tum kabhee dekhoge. Devataon ke lie nirnay chhoden aur jahaan aap kar sakate hain vahaan madad karen." She responded in Vudrani. For a few moments she started and stopped as she struggled to find the words in the common tongue.
"I don't know how to say it, but...we aren't trying to save the bastards. We are trying to save everyone. If you focus too much on who deserves to be saved, you might not save anyone...You might just be another bastard." She finally managed to get out, though clearly not satisfied with her answer.
"Also, I could teach your dad One Armed Drunken Boxing style." She offered, hoping there was an action she could take to improve things.
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"I don't know how to say it, but...we aren't trying to save the bastards. We are trying to save everyone. If you focus too much on who deserves to be saved, you might not save anyone...You might just be another bastard." She finally managed to get out, though clearly not satisfied with her answer.
”Oh I know.” says Quasit nonchalantly with a shrug. ”I mean, cutting off a man’s hand is a crappy thing to do, but these witches are worse.” She seems to struggle to say something more, but ends up just shrugging again. ”Maybe once we save the world and I become filthy rich this will feel a teensy bit less galling and ironic.”
"Also, I could teach your dad One Armed Drunken Boxing style." She offered, hoping there was an action she could take to improve things.
”Ha! He’d probably like that. He’s already got the drunken part covered. Only need one hand to drink after all.”
She holds up the bottle. ”To saving all the bastards! Including us!”
She drinks.
Maka turned the water in her jug to a strong plum wine before joining Quasit in toast "Sabhee kameenon ko bachaane ke lie!" After taking a rather large swig, Maka passed her jug around. Having spent some time outside her comfort zone, Maka went back to attempting to drag Bulvi outside for a sparring session.
"To the bastards!" Bulvi lifted his drink and downs it before heading outside to spar with Maka... it was water though. He was wary being this deep in hostile territory.
Bulvi trudged outside in the snow and got his sword and shield ready though he kept the sword in its scabard with the aid of some twine. "I've picked up a few tricks on this fools errand... though I do feel like my armour is largely just slowing me down when you can throw fire around... I suspect I'd feel like you were cooking me in my armour if we really fought."
"I've always found armor to be slow. Plus, armor may stop the flames, but it doesn't stop the heat!" Maka said with a laugh. "Besides, I can barely stand how stuffy most clothing is."
Getting in to position as well, Maka began the engagement with a wide kick. The blow was quick but without much force, clearly not meant to cause any harm. "It always made a lot more sense to just get out of the way of blows."
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I didn't know that, about your dad, Quasit," Sakitu says quietly and sadly. "That is just awful." She looks at her own hands trying to imagine what it would be like to be missing one. She is lost in her own thoughts until Maka and Bulvi head outside.
"What? They are going to fight? For fun?" Quasit plops down on the couch where she was sitting a few minutes before. "I'm not going outside to watch that. It will just make me anxious." She folds her arms across her chest and pouts.
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I didn't know that, about your dad, Quasit," Sakitu says quietly and sadly. "That is just awful." She looks at her own hands trying to imagine what it would be like to be missing one.
"It destroyed him." returns Quasit. "He'd always like his booze, but after that, he quit trying to find work and just drank all the time. My mother ran off with another man, my older brother had to go work for the gangs... it ruined all our lives."
"I was eight when it happened. It was so shocking and horrifying seeing my father that way. Any girl thinks of her father as something between all-knowing and all-powerful, and there he was laying in his bed with a bloody stump for days, not talking to anyone, just feeling sorry for himself. It broke my heart, it really did. I would have given anything to fix him. I think that's why my mom took me with her when she ran off a year later. It certainly wasn't because she wanted me around. That became clear pretty quickly."
She takes a swig and sighs. "I hope he's ok. He really is a sweet and gentle person. I haven't seen him in a nearly a year. I miss him a ton. But he's such a mess. It's hard watching someone you love just destroying themselves."
She picks some stray eyelashes from her eyes, using it as an excuse to wipe away the moisture that's collected there. She abruptly changes the subject.
"What about you? I bet you had a great family, you're so kind and sweet. Were your parents both Amazing Fox People like you? Where are you from even? Jeepers Saki, I hardly know anything about you, and we've been practically sharing underwear for a month."
Maka dodged and weaved Bulvi's skillful strikes. A metallic ping rang through the night as he blocked her return blow with his shield. A toothy grin was spread wide on Maka's face. It was always fun to fight friends, and Maka hadn't had a friendly fight in what felt like months. "You never know how tense you are until you relax." Maka heard Master Neela's words in her head.
The Inner Sea was far more complicated than Maka had anticipated, Irrisen especially so. This wonderful winter wonderland was full of magical marvels, edible trees, and beasts to battle. So many good things, but so much suffering caused by the witches and their wicked ways. The country stood in sharp contrast to her orderly, warm home of Jalmeray. Maka's thoughts drifted back to the island, to her family at the monastery. It had been almost a year since she had left. She treasured the experiences and friends she had made on her journey, but for the first time in her life she felt homesick, though she didn't have the word for the longing that pulled at her heart.
Maka's thoughts were sharply brought back as Bulvi's scabbarded sword struck her full in the face. Her guard completely down, the blow sent her tumbling in to the snow. Head aching and the taste of blood in her mouth, Maka starred up at the large Ulfen Fighter standing above her. A different kind of grin spread across her face. A friendly fight wasn't the only thing Maka had gone months without.
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Sakitu looks sad. It seems unkind to talk about how she was raised. It really was so different than what her friend described. While Quasit was dealing with her father and mother, Sakitu was being raised with everything she needed. It just made Sakitu feel guilty.
"We did alright," she answers quietly, avoiding eye contact. "I mean, my parents did fine. When I was very young my dad moved us to Absolom. He's a merchant. Trades in spices and silks and stuff from our homeland." Sakitu raises her head slightly to look meekly at Quasit. "My parents don't really know where I'm at right now. They think I'm traveling in Tian Xia. Getting back to my roots. I got off the boat when it stopped in Golsifar and didn't get back on." Although her fur hides it, it's pretty clear than she is blushing.
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"We did alright," she answers quietly, avoiding eye contact. "I mean, my parents did fine. When I was very young my dad moved us to Absolom. He's a merchant. Trades in spices and silks and stuff from our homeland." Sakitu raises her head slightly to look meekly at Quasit. "My parents don't really know where I'm at right now. They think I'm traveling in Tian Xia. Getting back to my roots. I got off the boat when it stopped in Golsifar and didn't get back on." Although her fur hides it, it's pretty clear than she is blushing.
Quasit lets a pause hang in the air, then cocks her head slightly.
"Why?" she asks.
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She hesitates for a moment. "Well, I just. Well, I wanted to see what was out here. People would come to visit my dad and they were so interesting. But my mom wouldn't let me talk to them. I guess my parents were just trying to protect me." An earnestness comes into her eyes. "I just wanted to see what there was."
She shuffles on the seat and holds a hand out to Quasit. She glances at Fin trying to judge what he thinks of her now that her secret is out. "I made plans with my parents so that they would send me to my aunt's ancestral home in Tian Xia. I was going to spend a year there. I don't know if they've figure out yet that I'm not there. I know I'll be in big trouble when they do."