Naught gives a Aliseya a relieved smile after her spasms stop, blushing slightly as her head reflexively rests into her lover’s hand. ”It’s fine.”
Any seriousness the situation held over was broken as the dancer fixated on Cristoph’s choice of words, earning a snicker.
The door to the study opens once more. Mr. Giles steps through the doorway with concern in his visage.
"Is everything alright?"
”Yes and no.”
Concern shifts into confusion for Mr. Giles after Naught's response.
Looking around for clarification, he asks, "Might I be of any assistance?"
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"No, thank you, Mr. Giles." Aliseya replies with a smile from the sofa. "I think I'm okay now."
"Sorry to scare you with my loud screaming," she adds apologetically while standing up. "It seems only the Church can help me now."
When her love is ready, Aliseya eventually takes her hand back with a sweet smile.
"Shall we?" she asks of all her friends, ready to head immediately to the Pharasmin temple.
Naught smiles and takes Aliseya's hand without hesitation. "You should probably be more worried about the Pharasmins," she tells Zelda with a chuckle.
"Errr..." Blushing slightly, he shrugs, "Brigh. Goddess of invention and such. It's something my old mentor, Kjell, would say. He's traveled a bit and picked it up off some dwarf wizard he was working with. Guess it rubbed off on me?"
More intently, as he finishes gathering his supplies, "But yes, we should go to the Church, and that as quickly as we can. You're welcome to join us, Miss Lamplighter, but it might be best to stick to our plan and for you to see to your weapons. The Church should be able to help-" He gives Naught a questioning sidelong glance, "-despite my fumbling attempt to help here. There are true healers to be found in their ranks. I'm less a healer and more a hunter."
"Very well, ma'am," the attendant replies to Aliseya.
Mr. Giles escorts the gathering as they make their way out of the magistrate's study. Once more, he returns their coats as they head towards the front door.
"A jolly good day to you all." One by one, Mr. Giles formally bows as each of you exits the magistrate's townhouse.
"I'll be totally fine."
Outside in the open air once again, Aliseya reassures Zelda. She then smirks at Naught's comment about the Pharasmins, though secretly she really does worry a bit. Not just for herself, but for their welfare, too.
"You know how to get to the east gate?" she makes sure before Zelda heads off to the shops. "Meet you there!"
"Brigh... sounds cool," she replies to Christoph. "And really, don't worry about it. I know my, uh, situation isn't exactly a cake walk."
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It is still late morning on this brisk winter day. The blue sky remains mostly clear, with no hint of snow.
In Lepidstadt's affluent courthouse district, the party can easily spot the district's namesake in the distance. The younger three ladies are reminded of the turbulent trial they'd recently managed to survive there, and perhaps wonder about Mr. Golem's well being.
...
The group then splits up. Christoph leads Aliseya and others northeast across the luxurious city center, down one major street with a beautiful lake to the east, continuing until turning down a less populous northern road. As they travel eastward, the homes grow less and less affluent as they walk. After about twenty minutes of walking, they reach the most threadbare parts, where the common folk work and reside. The crumbling stone streets are pocked here and there with weeds. They're more crowded than Christoph experienced earlier this morning, with ox carts and wagons bumping along the broken roads. They're visibly packed with either fresh produce or common housewares and tools such as tin mugs, shovels, and cookware.
Within sight up ahead, the familiar Lady’s spiral sits atop the gothic temple of Pharasma’s steeple. The area is less than pristine, and the church itself could use some minor repairs. A dark set of front doors are closed; they bear twin brass knockers upon them.
...
Meanwhile, Zelda heads southwest towards the more industrial district of Lepidstadt. As she walks down a few side streets, she passes through a park. At the other end, she observes the notable transition to warehouses and workhouses. Further down the road, she experiences the familiar smoke, soot, and stenches of tanners, blacksmiths, and other industries.
After about ten minutes of walking, the artful blonde spots a smithy, hard at work in an open, canopied forge attached to a house. He's human: a handsome man, with a shaved head and trimmed beard, probably of Mwangi descent and in either his late thirties or early forties. He's putting the final touches on what looks like a very finely wrought bronze war hammer.
...
|
Zelda takes her time admiring the smiths work. "I have seen many smiths but rarely one of such skill. I am impressed. Do you by any chance sell any silver or gold wire. I am a jewel crafter and I am looking for something to create a master piece for a fine women's hair and to work around a belt to add some elegance to it. Do you have any fine silver and gold wire?"
Aliseya looks at Naught with worry in her eyes. Smiling, she takes a deep breath, then approaches the front double doors of the church.
As she stands before them, she takes hold of one of the brass knockers. But before she gets a chance to actually knock, she suddenly stumbles down to one knee with a wince.
Her gaze sharply casts upwards, towards the sky. Only the whites of her eyes are visible. She begins babbling incoherently under her breath...
The blacksmith wipes the sweat off of his brow with a rag. He turns to face Zelda.
"Why hello, young lady." He smiles down at the pretty blonde, who's over a foot shorter than the tall man. He takes a swig of a drink from his nearby canteen. "Thank ya kindly. I aim to please."
"Another jewler, eh? Just like my wife. As a matter of fact," he turns to walk several steps towards a crate. "I believe she received a bundle of silver wire just the other day. Let's see now..."
He grabs and opens a couple of crates with a crowbar. Zelda can spot a few coils each of both silver and gold wire within.
"Today's your lucky day, miss. How much would ya like?"
"A pleasure doin' business with ya," the blacksmith says as the goods are exchanged.
"If you're lookin' for uncut stones, I recommend Bordana's place. Just head down Flint Street here," he points north, "make your first right, and a quick left. You can't miss her sign. My wife buys from her all the time."
"Magic stuff, eh?" He scratches his bearded chin. "Well, suggest a fine gentleman by the name of Caius. You'll have to head back south down Flint Street and make a left east down Beaker Street down there," he points southeast in the distance. "It's on a corner just a few blocks north of the University, can't miss the sign that says "You Spell It, I Sell It." He chuckles a bit, "Get it? Spell it. Heh."
Distracted and thinking of his failure to determine the nature of the girl's affliction, Christoph's perfunctory nod to the butler as he gathers his things strains the definition of politeness. "Yes, thank you. We'll be off."
The inquisitor is silent on the walk through the increasingly shabby streets. With his military gear and fearsome raiment, he is easily able to cut a path trough the increasingly busy streets. As they arrive, he gestures towards the double doors, "The Church of Pharasma in Lepidstadt. The priests we'll be seeking are inside."
He turns to knock on the door, but Aliseya dashes past him to take hold of one of the knockers herself. As the young dancer seems to stumble, Christoph reaches out a hand to help but curses softly under his breath as her eyes turn up in her head. "Not good. Miss Clayten, do you know anything about... whatever this is? I don't know the language -if it is even that- and the Lady alone knows what brought it on."
Zelda makes her way down the busy streets of Lepidstadt's industrial district, passing by the homes/workplaces of various craftsmen and laborers who are, for the most part at least, hard at work. The affluence seems to rise as she walks eastward towards a more mixed commercial/residential area, eventually spotting the familiar Lepidstadt University. She is reminded of the first day her friends and she came to this city, when they investigated the scene of the theft of the Seasage Effigy.
Passing the university to her south, she continues on. Ten minutes after her visit with the blacksmith, she finds herself at a fancy water fountain, set centrally within a ring of cobblestone road where five roads conjoin. Scanning the several buildings around this circular road, she spots one rather brightly colored sign that reads, "You Spell It, I Sell It!"
”Ali!” Naught calls out before rushing to the Dancer’s side to steady her. ”What’s going on?” she asks her knowing most likely she won’t get an answer.
The babbling dancer suddenly stops babbling after about a minute. Aliseya's pupils return to normal. She blinks twice as her brows furrow. Looking around at her friends, she rises back to standing as she wonders aloud, "What happened?"
Worry comes over her face. She asks Naught, "I didn't, uhm, become her again, did I?"
A strange look then comes over her face. "Oh?" she asks aloud, as if someone unseen and unheard had immediately answered her question...
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”If you did she was really, really drunk,” Naught starts before she tilts her head and echoes the Dancer ”Oh?”
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"Oh, uhm," she hesitates to respond to Naught, still looking distracted as if listening to someone who isn't apparently there, "...just her again. In my head. Being a real nasty biotch."
"No, not a witch. You heard what I called you." she says defiantly, to no one that anyone else can see or hear...
She then snorts a chuckle, a delayed reaction to Naught's comment. "Have you been drinking?" she asks the thin air...
Looking at Christoph and Sookie, she shrugs. "You both must think I'm nuts..."
Naught just sighs in relief before nuzzling her forehead against Ali's, her tentacles writhing but minding their own business in the cold, and then helping the Dancer back up to her feet.
Christoph watches his newfound companion warily, clearly unsure what to make of the young woman. Is she talking to Naught? He tries to follow her gaze, but sees nothing there. Reluctant to try any of his magic, given recent reactions, he can only watch with silent misgivings.
Her sudden rhetorical question -if it could be called a question at all- elicits a flush of embarrassment from the Voice. Unconvincingly he says, "No, not at all. The Way and what you've been through, it's... err... natural enough? Let's just get you to see a healer."
Clearing his throat and pushing past the awkward moment with determination, he lays a hand to the church door's knocker and raps it soundly once, twice, then thrice. He stands back, waiting for an acolyte to open it.
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As expected, the pale-skinned Pharasmin acolyte in black robes Christoph met earlier this morning answers the temple door. He lets the speaker and his three guests and a peacock enter the foyer of the church, though not without a slightly strange glance at the colorful bird.
"Speaker?" he inquires gravely. Christoph notices that, somehow, the grim acolyte looks even more world weary and worn than earlier this morning.
With eyes on him Roland keeps his head turned upward most aloofly.
"Not really what I'd call 'natural,'" the Varisian wanderer replies to Christoph with a smile, "But... thanks. And yes, a healer would be neat."
If she didn't believe Christoph wasn't troubled by her disconcerting affliction and its effects, she's not saying anything about it.
Inside, she opts to let the Pharasmins talk Pharasmin stuff.
Christoph inclines his head in greeting to the acolyte in habit formed long ago in his days under the Church's car. He greets the man, "Acolyte," but notices the new tightness in the man's expression. Unsure of the reason and pressed for time, he pushes forward, "I'm in need of the guidance of Father Yeniaminov or another of the senior clergy. This young woman, [b]" he gestures to Aliseya, [b]"has an illness that is beyond my healing and that is gravely concerning. It's important that she be healed with all speed and for that I hope to have the help of one of my seniors."
He pauses, waiting tensely for the acolyte to reply.
Sookie merely smiles and shakes her head at Aliseya saying she must think she's "nuts." "There is no shame in madness. What we consider "madness" is dependent upon what our culture deems madness to be. I will judge someone for what they do, not for how ordered their mind is. The important question, Aliseya, is whether you want to be changed."
Naught enthusiastically nods in agreement behind Aliseya at Sookie’s words.
"I see..."
It seems to take the acolyte a while to say or do much more. He seems distracted.
At last, he continues.
"I'm afraid Father Yeniaminov has slipped into a coma since this morning. We..." he stumbles over his words, "expect he will travel to the Bonesland soon, to meet our Lady at last..."
He gives Christoph a moment to process this news before continuing. The speaker immediate recalls to mind the priest's final prophetic words to him:
"Farewell, my son. We shall not meet again, in this world. I have faith that you will not fail Her."
"As it happens," the acolyte thoughtfully continues, breaking Christoph out of his private thoughts, "the pastor has a visitor with him now who may be of service to you."
"Please, come in."
The acolyte leads the group through the main chapel. As they enter the humble chapel, all can enjoy seeing stained glass windows depicting the familiar scenes of the Bonesland, the dead, and the Lady of Graves: the goddess Pharasma who governs death, birth, prophecy, and fate. A crowning spiral of solid silver sits atop an otherwise inornate central wooden altar.
The acolyte leads the group to a door at one side of the chapel. Through a narrow hallway of dark wood, they find themselves taken to one of a few bedrooms where the clergy apparently rest. In one, the elderly priest who Christoph recognizes as Father Yeniaminov rests in bed in a coma, still faintly breathing.
Seated nearby between the priest and the window, a middle-aged Ulfen woman in gray robes casts a somber gaze upon her fading friend. She seems to be praying with Pharasmin prayer beads in hand.
The room is barely able to fit two more people in it, with the bedridden priest and the lady already seated in it. Christoph and perhaps one more party member may enter first; the rest may stay out in the hall.
"I present Lady Runa Johannesson, Holy Sister of Justice," the acolyte introduces you to the lady.
You both expect she may not be thrilled to see some of the Beast's defense team after bringing an undead murderer into the courtroom, wreaking havoc, and getting someone killed. She is focused on the dying priest and her sorrow, so you both get to spot her before she notices you... if you opt to stay outside the room and remain unnoticed, for instance.
Though of course you are there for Aliseya's benefit...
Meanwhile at the magic shop, Zelda walks over to the front door and finds it unlocked. It must be open for business. Inside the shop, she finds a neatly organized set of elegant wooden display cases. A robed and bearded man of perhaps Kelish descent is seated across the room at the rear counter. He wears a turban, and seems lost in his book. Though a chime seems to ring from perhaps the magical ether as Zelda enters, the scholar seems to not even notice.
In the several fancy display cases, Zelda can make out various scrolls, bottled potions and oils, books, ink jars and pens, and other arcane supplies, as well as several more interesting objects as well all laid out rather elegantly. In particular among the interesting objects, she notices a slender belt that might be just the right size and style for her in one of the mid-room display cases.
The acolyte's long silence does little to assuage Christoph's doubts. When he finally speaks, the Speaker gasps in shock. In a voice strangled by shock and sudden grief, "But, we spoke this morning. It couldn't have been more then a few hours, if that..." Christoph trails off, voice heavy in disbelief. He said we would not meet again in this world, but this... this is... Christoph takes a moment to compose himself. If nothing else, the timing is suspicious. Do your duty, Speaker.
"Thank you acolyte." As his training kicks in and he masters himself despite the shock, the emotion is similarly choked out of his voice. Not steely and professional, he gestures to the others to enter behind the acolyte.
He follows through the church, eyes flickering around to check corners and for anything out of the ordinary. A hand rests, seemingly subconsciously, on the dagger hanging from his belt. He takes in the sad scene as he enters the hospice room.
He nods to the acolyte, "Thank you, Acolyte. I appreciate your help. The Voices weep for your, and our, loss."
Seeing how tight it is, he motions for most of the rest of the party to wait. Entering himself, he traces the Spiral of Pharasma across his chest and bows (as much as the room allows) to the Sister of Justice. "Hello and greetings, Lady Johannesson. I am Speaker Christoph Metzger, leader of the Voices of the Spire here in Ustalav. There is urgent, and strange, business that concerns the Church and the Voices. I spoke to Father Yeniaminov this morning and to see him, so suddenly, laid low is... concerning. May we speak?"
He waits a moment to allow her to respond.
When Christoph expresses shock at the pastor's sudden turn for the worse, the acolyte explains as the group walks, "Father Yeniaminov has been ill for months. He'd been bedridden for the most part in recent weeks, but wanted to make a special effort to meet his successor before making the journey..."
Though the speaker is wary of the shadowy corners of the temple, he notices nothing out of the ordinary for a humble Pharasmin church.
The acolyte nods respectfully to Christoph's condolences. "You are most gracious, Speaker Metzger."
The gray-robed lady looks up from her prayers to meet Christoph's gaze with pensiveness. Even her eyes are a grayish shade of blue. She rests her hands and prayer beads on her lap.
"Greetings, Speaker Metzger." It takes her a moment to continue. "Yes, of course. What concerns you so?"
After Sookie speaks of whether Ali wants to be changed, and with Naught's agreement from behind, the Varisian wanderer nods in agreement as well.
"Like, of course. I mean, it's confusing enough to have another voice in my head. But who wants that voice to be an evil witch on top of that? Seriously..."
She then looks down, however.
"I really hope you can help me," she adds, though by her disposition she seems suspicious of what could really be done to change her.
...
Inside, Ali's eyes open wide as the news of the priest's impending death is revealed. Her hand instinctively cups over her mouth in shock, and her eyes water up, as if the mystical dancer empathically absorbs Christoph's own shock and grief as her own.
She follows along, silently. When they reach the room, she makes a slight and barely notable gasp. Recognizing who else is in the room, she immediately looks at nearby Naught. She somberly remains out in the hall at Christoph's suggestion, tilting her face away from the lady within the room.
The acolyte's revelation regarding the former speaker's health adds a twinge of guilt to the grief Christoph feels. Did he expend body's his last strength merely for me? ... I must succeed. Guilt warred with a renewed sense of duty as he enters the room.
"Thank you, Lady Johannesson. I don't like calling you away from the good Father's side." Christoph glances again at the ailing man laying on the cot, "And I like leaving less myself, but the need is great. In short, I have good reason to believe there are malicious forces intent on unleashing unknown havoc. I spoke with Father Yeniaminov this morning of this business, in fact. I've reason to believe an associate has been wounded or otherwise cursed by one of these foes and my own attempts at learning more left little doubt that it's beyond my skill to heal. I have a great need for haste, and for my companion to be with me as I leave, so I sought help here. With Father Yeniaminov, I hope that you might be able to assist."
He, carefully given the close confines of the room, gestures to the door, "She and a few others of my associates wait outside. Would you please step outside so we can take a look at this... curse? Wound? It's not clear to me, precisely."
Well this is gonna be awkward, Naught thinks as she steps over by Ali.
"Yes, of course," she simply states as she rises from her seat. She asks the acolyte, "Acolyte Grimbald, may we use your room? We will need privacy, I expect." The acolyte affirmatively and silently nods.
With a respectful spiral gesture to the comatose priest, the gray-robed woman steps out of the room with Christoph. On entering the rather narrow hall where everyone now stands roughly in a line, her eyes meet Sookie's who stands first from the doorway. She nods in greeting to the three ladies. Though she does not seem to recognize Naught nor Ali behind her, it is a dark and narrow hall.
The lady simply motions to follow her down the hall a bit further. "This way, please. Speaker Metzger, please come in with your companion."
She enters the next room down, waiting for Christoph and Ali to enter behind her. This room is no bigger than Father Yemianov's, yet it seems spacious enough to fit four. Perhaps because there is no one in this room's bed. Sunlight from the one window brightens the place up more than the hall. A simple Pharasmin sigil and a portrait of the Bonesland decorate the otherwise sparse bedroom.
Christoph and, hesitantly, Aliseya then enter the room. The gray lady nods in greeting to Aliseya.
And then, her eyes narrow in recognition.
"You..."
Aliseya uncomfortably looks down and shuffles her feet as the gray lady enters the hall, and as she follows after.
When she enters the room and notices recognition in her eyes, she looks up and meets her gaze. A big awkward smile comes over her face, her brows rise to an uncomfortable height, and she lightly and awkwardly chuckles.
"Oh, hi there!" she says, trying to smooth things over with somewhat apparent forced pleasantness.
"Hrmph? Oh," the wizardly man is slightly startled by the voice of his blonde customer.
"Um, hello there, young lady. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."
His voice then shifts from unsettled by the surprise to enthusiastic and sales-seeking. "The name's Zanzibar, Malcolm Zanzibar." He seems to proudly wait for Zelda to recognize his name. Seeing she does not, "Well, my dear, you are in the presence of a genuine graduate of the prestigious Arcanamirium of Absalom. The items I craft are of the finest quality, and those I have acquired have the benefit of my discerning eye for the finest quality. So you simply know you're getting the finest quality here, my dear." He grins with solemn pride.
At last, he begins to address Zelda's actual question. Placing his tome down on the counter top, he approaches nearer to Zelda as he goes on. "Ah yes, that is quite the special belt, is it not? It came to me last fall from House Shayak of Jalmeray, a venerated monk of the Order of Unfolding Winds who had passed on and his estate, sadly, liquidated. Quite old indeed, going back three generations of noble Jalmerayan martial artists. It has been enchanted quite exquisitely to have retained such remarkable condition after so much usage. The belt enhances its wearer's natural might, as well as her innate agility... and I think it would look quite nice on your figure as well."
With a wide smile, "Would you... like to try it on?" The wizard stands ready to open the display case for her, should she express the slightest interest in doing so.
"Sup," Naught greets the women with a wave of hand as they enter, slightly smiling. She felt like she should knwo her from somewhere. But she had been between worlds far too much of late. So to speak. Or not.
Entering imperiously Roland gives a short scream before folding one wing in front of him as his tail splays out in display as he bows to the priestess.
The Speaker nods his thanks to the acolyte again as they depart. He casts one last look at the frail and silent form of his predecessor, Christoph traces the Spiral of Pharasma in a mirror of the Lady Johannesson's. He gestures for Aliseya to follow him, murmuring, "This priestess has agreed to assist us. Please follow us."
Entering after his fellow in the faith, he steps aside to allow Aliseya to enter. Allowing a moment to let the two introduce themselves to one another, he's caught off guard -mouth open to explain what he'd already learned of the curse- by the young dancer's vehement reception. Christoph glances from one to the other. He asks the obviously rhetorical question, "I take it you know one another?"
Sookie follows along observing the others, paying especially close to Aliseya.
”Oh dear. I do hope there is not some rather uncomfortable history here. In such a case, I would be happy to mediate.”
”Uhhhh, sure!” Naught preemptively takes Sookie up on her offer.
"Indeed..."
Lady Johannesson's stern gaze does not stray from the two young women as she replies to Speaker Metzger. Though humble in demeanor, one gets a steely judgmental vibe from her now.
With a sigh, the holy sister turns towards Sookie, "Thank you. But that will not be necessary."
She then asks of both Christoph and Sookie, "But first. Are you both aware of what she has done at the Beast's Trial? Of what she is capable of?" She points at Aliseya specifically.
The gray lady's gaze turns grimly towards Aliseya and Naught, "Have you told the Speaker of the Voices?"
Looking now at the speaker's red insignia, "No. I expect you have not..."
"I would help you, if I can," she relents, addressing Christoph. "If the mission of the Speaker of the Voices is at stake."
Turning to the two young ladies once again, "But you must tell them what you've done first. Right now."
"These good people deserve to know about your dark power before you go any further."
Aliseya stands there silently for a long moment before speaking up.
"Well... okay." she replies to the holy sister.
The free spirited young woman steeples her fingertips together contemplatively, before clapping her hands quite suddenly as if decided.
"Ok, I'll just right out with it then. I... uhm, we... Naught and I, and Zelda too... and a couple of others who are no longer with us. Anyway, I think we kinda mentioned already that we helped investigate a string of murders here in town. This guy, Mister Golem, he was accused of them. But after talking with him in jail, we were all convinced he was innocent. He was very simple, and gentle, even though he was very, very tall and strong. All of Lepidstadt was in a fury and wanted him dead. So we decided to help out: either find evidence that Mr. Golem really did commit those crimes, or find out who actually did commit them if not him."
"Anyway, even though we found more and more evidence that it wasn't Mr. Golem and that something else was going on here, the mob just got louder and angrier and wanted blood. So we needed to do something. And fast."
"On the last day of the trial, I decided to bring in a witness to clear Mr. Golem's name. You see, we found the real murderers. There were four, and I got one of them to agree to confess and be a witness..."