Qhude accedes to Morvius' request to speak no further on the golem, but his gaze and demeanor clearly show that he has not dismissed it's presence.
N'bellocq turns his head in surprise to face the General, his mind, and eyes, had been off in the surrounding jungle, but then he smiles a big smile.
"I have located a camp. About 30 Mwangi based on its size. It is located across a gorge but has a way that can allow an approach unseen that we might have a drop on it. All 30 may not be there as it seems some have departed to follow back our path of approach."
And here N'bellocq steps closer and lowers his voice to a whisper, "Coming back from this gorge, I have also found a single pair of tracks that leave our camp and go directly to the enemies' camp. We are spied upon not just from the surrounding jungle... "
Ansha frowns at N'bellocq's report. Lowering her own voice, she finally gives voice to her suspicions, whispering, "It has to be Kamishah. The circumstances under which he joined the caravan were too convenient; he tries too hard to seem harmless and affable--in point of fact, his ability to charm seems almost magical; no one knows where he came from; no one knows where his loyalties lie; and most importantly, he vanishes into the jungle alone on a regular basis. If you were to track him when he did so, I don't doubt he'd lead us straight there."
A thought occurs to her and she looks to Morvius. "General, is this tent secure from eavesdroppping?"
"Even if the tent is the camp is not. I say we look at this as an opportunity. We should talk to the folks at the camp. If there is a reason for them to oppose us then perhaps we can resolve it. We might be trespassing on their land, we may have built our camp on their sacred ground, they might just be rightfully afraid of us."
"They could be crazy killer demon ape worshipers whom we need to rub out. Or they could be the Order in which case we could use their help. Worst case is a trap but I doubt it is any more dangerous than helping renovate that Azlant summer home."
"No, but if the tent is proof against nosy parties, then as long as no one in this room says anything, nothing will get out," Ansha counters.
"It has to be Kamishah. The circumstances under which he joined the caravan were too convenient; he tries too hard to seem harmless and affable--in point of fact, his ability to charm seems almost magical; no one knows where he came from; no one knows where his loyalties lie; and most importantly, he vanishes into the jungle alone on a regular basis."
Tebati laughs. "Except for the jungle excursions, I might think you were describing yourself, Ansha," she teases.
Ansha petulantly sticks her tongue out at Tebati.
General Morvius spoke again.
The tent is secure. If you feel Kamishah is worth investigating, you have my full authority to do so. However, he is hardly the only person to forage in the jungle, and i've seen him return with the vegetables he claims he needs. At the least, his alibi is good.
However, the foreman tells me that the excavation will be finished the day after tomorrow. They are clearing away the last of the largest stones blocking our progress and I am keen to send you in once more. Perhaps you could be our emissaries and speak to these Mwangi tomorrow, if N'bellocq leads you there? However, if they know we have discovered their camp they might move it... in which case we'd lose the tactical advantage of the hidden pass N'bellocq found.
Regardless, I am sending you back in as soon as the site is ready... That I have already decided.
Qhude nods at the Induna's orders, thoughts mainly on the need to delve back into the ziggurat, though the words of another group of Mwangi nearby and watching are not ignored.
Brow furrowed in thought he asks of Morvius "What was done with the corpses of the white ape and winged beasts that were awoken?"
They were burnt. They were deemed potential carriers of ancient diseases.
"We already know they're hostile, and that they have a spy within the camp. Perhaps it would be better to sneak up on the camp and 'befriend' one of them. Given a bit of magical encouragement, we could find out what their purposes are without losing our tactical advantage," Ansha suggests. "Besides, waltzing straight into the lion's den in the hopes it doesn't eat us hardly seems sound."
"We already know they're hostile, and that they have a spy within the camp. Perhaps it would be better to sneak up on the camp and 'befriend' one of them. Given a bit of magical encouragement, we could find out what their purposes are without losing our tactical advantage," Ansha suggests. "Besides, waltzing straight into the lion's den in the hopes it doesn't eat us hardly seems sound."
"Sound? Nothing we have done since we first met Picklebeard could be considered sound. Me swimming away from a perfectly good rowboat, You painstakingly crafting a semi-pornographic autobi-golem that you know will someday try to kill you, and all of us happily walking into a temple with a one way entrance and no indication of an exit. None of these things were sound, most of them were not even arguably sane. So why did we do them?"
"And as far as tactical advantage I strongly suspect that the unseen approach you found N'bellocq is anything but. Not to disparage your woodcraft but if we assume these thirty or so Mwangi are locals then we have to assume they know their home ground. We are also, given the tracks, assuming they know we are nearby. Now if you were setting up a camp to monitor an unknown force why would you choose to leave an unguarded path? A path that appears unguarded is another story. Allowing someone to think they have an advantage over you is an excellent way to get them to do what you want."
"Unless of course our assumptions are wrong. Are these locals? New arrivals might not know all the tactical weaknesses of the area. New arrivals might also explain why we have seen precious little of the local elves and halflings. So assume newcomers. We are still left with the question of who they are. Are they demon worshipers hear to eat us and perhaps recover the thing stolen from them? Or are they the Order come to see who we are and what we intend? In either case openly greeting them and asking them what they want is the quickest and most reliable way to find out they are and what they want. Playing games of spy and counterspy could take months. Do we have months?"
"Assuming the worst case, that these are Gorilla King allies, what do we do? Wait and let them gather more allied tribes or confront them now and let them send work back that we were not napping and not as alien to this jungle as they thought."
Ansha scoffs. "Speak for yourself. Not all risk-taking is unsound, and not all outcomes are known at the outset. I do agree about the swim in the harbor, though."
"You yourself admit it's an assumption that, contrary to N'bellocq's assessment, the camp is full of locals who are aware of a supposedly-secret approach. Let's not assume that. I trust that N'bellocq can bring us to this hidden approach unseen. Once there, the quickest and easiest way to gather information is to do so surreptitiously. People are less likely to lie to someone they consider a friend--and it hardly takes months. Give me a few hours--even a few minutes--and I'll find out enough to work on without risking walking into an armed camp in the hopes that they don't attack us out of hand."
She folds her arms and leans back in her chair as she continues, "Once we've done that, we can formulate an appropriate plan of action based on what we've learned."
"You know Ansha, you are absolutely right. I tend to err on the side of the dramatic and direct. In this case a more understated approach is called for. How do you propose to proceed?"
Qhude bristles at Jakob's continued denigration of the umkhaya and the mention of his abandonment of them in the harbor of Eleder, but does not speak against it. Similarly he drew narrowed and suspicious gaze at Ansha's seeming confidence that she would befriend one out of hand. The confirmation from the induna that the potential trophies and totems were burned also ruled them out as means of sending a message to the mwangi camp.
The Bas'o spoke into the midst of the room, without addressing anyone in particular "If we are to speak with them it must be the sangoma's voice they hear and Mwangi skin they see..." keeping his gaze narrowed and addressing naught but air "We would gain nothing by trickery... and only the Sangoma among us has the wisdom to neither roar like an mbube... nor bray like a imbongolo."
Ansha tilts her head slightly and studies Qhude as he speaks. "Much as I appreciate your reverence for our sangoma, she replies diplomatically, "If we are to speak to them, it will have to be me, Qhude. My enchantments will color someone's perceptions toward me--but that coloring of reality doesn't extend to anyone else. If you simply wish for a Mwangi to do it, though...that can be arranged."
She smiles cryptically as her features begin to shift. Ears shortening and rounding, skin darkening from porcelain to chocolate, clothing molding into a form-fitting robe similar to Tebati's outfit, hair braiding and darkening and the ribbon in her hair vanishing only for a similar ribbon to appear on her wrist, in a moment the elf is replaced by a beautiful Zenj woman whose smile remains the only resemblance to the elven enchantress--sly, coy and disarming.
Qhude affixes the once-was-Ansha with a dead-eyed stare, completely and fundamentally unimpressed by her parlour trick. Keeping his voice as even as he may he growls "No... if we wish to poison their mind and turn them as to puppets to your whim... then yes, it will needs be you."
Voice slightly clearer "But they are neither animals nor your playthings. Sangoma only has one face, and she is not afraid to hide it... nor vain enough to make a toy in it's image." eyes moving to Jakob "She has my trust, as she has not given reason to doubt her" and then casting his eyes down to the table before him "And her anger is not easily roused."
As far as I can see, using Tebati as an envoy hardly prohibits you from utilising Ansha's charms at a later date. They are clearly already aware of our presence here. Frankly, I got the feeling during the last attack that it was merely a warning. No one was slain.
Of course, they may not be aware that we know where their camp is. Should they be spooked, you may not be able to charm one of them. They must surely have to hunt or forage for food from time to time. Perhaps you could isolate such a gatherer.
Zenj-Ansha rolls her eyes at Qhude's characterization of her enchantments. "It's hardly poisoning. If anything, I'm setting them free to see me as truly as they see any other friend."
She looks at Morvius, betrayed. "I had thought to use the hidden approach and this disguise to isolate someone at the camp itself. Once we've figured out what we can about them, we would then be able to decide whether to attack, approach openly or withdraw."
Tebati's reaction to Ansha's shifting appearance is even more pointed than her astonishment at the wax golem's entrance had been. "You would 'set them free' as the colonials sought to 'free' my people and Qhude's from our own customs and remake us into something useful to them!" she answers hotly, belying Qhude's final assessment. "Even if you succeed in deceiving them and forging a peace between the camps, will they not become our enemies twice over when they discover you have lied to them from the beginning?" She takes a breath and calms herself, going on more quietly. "You are persuasive enough on your own, Ansha. Why rely on lies and subterfuge that only become obstacles in the long run?"
She addresses the rest of the table. "I have not Ansha's skill with honeyed words, but I will seek parley. The last Mwangi who attacked us had reason to do so; it is fair to consider that these may as well."
Qhude straightens and though attempting to keep his face neutral, there is a certain smugness about it. He deadpans "As I said... her anger is not easily roused." attempting to imply that he saw Tebati's outburst towards the elven seduc-chant-tress justified.
He adds to Tebati "Both N'bellocq and I could walk beside you sangoma... with weapons or without if you wish for it..." knowing that both himself and his brother did not rely on steel as their strength.
Zenj-Ansha seems taken aback by the vehemence of Tebati's reaction. With a heavy sigh, she says, "We're getting ahead of ourselves here. All I'm saying is that we should know as much as we can before we make any sort of move. My way leaves us the most options open when it's time to formulate our plans, because we haven't revealed our presence to anyone except one person who won't be inclined to betray his or her new friend."
"It's the one most likely to avoid spilling Mwangi blood, as well," she adds with a pointed glance at Qhude.
Jakob looks from one speaker to the other content to let Qhude and Tebati make his points for him. Or perhaps he is just trying to figure out who Qhude called a lion as he was pretty sure who wore the donkey suit.
"Or how about this," Ansha says, letting the illusory disguise fall away abruptly. "A compromise: N'bellocq points me in the direction of this hidden approach. Either Kieran or N'bellocq come with me, and we search out information while you are parleying with them face-to-face, Tebati. If they attack you, we are in a position to assist you. If they don't, we're still in a position to discover how truthful they are in your negotiations."
"And if you get into trouble and need us to assist?" she asks with a smirk before sobering. "I would not undertake to negotiate, merely to greet and hear what they have to say. If they are agreeable, I would ask them to meet with all of us and exchange words. If they respond with violence or treachery, then I would hope the rest of you would be near. They might think to take a hostage and so gain an ear for their demands."
Ansha hikes a thumb over her shoulder at the wax golem, smiling briefly in response. She glances at Morvius. "If the general thinks these attacks have been merely warnings, then they may be more amenable to talk than I had expected. My concern is that we lose our chance to gather information via other means--whether that is Kieran or N'bellocq scouting, or my spells or any other means we can think of--if we approach them directly first; whereas if we exhaust other options, we have not ruled out approaching them directly. Or to put it another way: Once we lose the element of surprise, we won't get it back."
"That is true," Tebati admits. "But having once lost someone's trust, it it is a long and difficult process to get it back as well."
"It can be, but I don't intend to lose their trust. On the assumption that they aren't hostile off the bat, we'll have several hours to build a rapport with the rest of the camp before my friend feels less...enthusiastic about me. Even then, he won't necessarily feel hostile to us, or even aware that he was under my spell--and I certainly don't intend to let the rest of the camp become aware that we have an inside man. It's a calculated risk, I admit. But it also puts us in a stronger position to start with, even if they don't trust us."
Raising his voice "Are we honestly thinking of letting this isibekeli go to the mwangi and isolate one to umqondo-phoqa?" a look of disgust clear upon his face... though at this time directed to all bar Tebati. All those that had listened to Ansha's honeyed tongue... and by saying nothing against it tainted themselves with it's poison.
General Morvius had heard enough. The man initially seemed content to let the group decide its own course with regards to the other camp, but the raised voices prompted him to take command.
he commanded. He paced back and forth as he laid out his words, gesturing with one hand while the other remained close to his waist.
In truth, both plans have merit. Both risk disrupting each other, however.
The Induna gave Qhude an apologetic glance before continuing. His tone was an authoritative one once again.
As a General, I must use the tools available to us. Especially in these times of strife. Ansha's command of charm magic is a valuable tool and chances far less permanent damage than capture and interrogation. Sending Tebati as an envoy to come in peace to these Zenj also has its merits, and the possibility that such an action will plant a seed of co-operation.
You will approach and stakeout their camp, from a distance. As N'bellocq tells it, it has one very defensible entrance and exit; a large amount of rocks one must scramble over, wedged into the entrance to the valley. You will wait for one or more of their number to exit the camp; and Ansha's party will seek an opportunity to isolate an individual and attempt to charm him a fair distance away from the camp. N'bellocq, Kieran; your skills in stealth and concealment are likely to be best used in this instance.
Tebati, accompanied by Qhude and Jakob; will approach and hail the camp once Ansha and the others are a reasonable distance away.
The additional merits to this plan are thus; you may be able to discern who amongst our own camp is reporting to theirs. In addition, if they plan any hostile actions while you are in position, you'll be well placed as scouts in order to gain a tactical advantage.
The General listened to any objections and ideas, but his mind as to the basic essence of the plan was made up.
You have your orders. Deploy at first light tomorrow. Albert and his squad are at your disposal, if you wish to have armed reinforcements nearby.
Qhude's eyes narrow and his jaw tenses, placing his hands upon the table he splays his fingers so as to prevent him from drawing them into fists. Breath is drawn in and out through his nose, the audible sound of the air best representing the anger that clearly seethes below the Bas'o's skin. His gaze does not move away from Morvius, and neither does he speak.
Despite the appearances, the umkhaya at least recognize that while the rage of the bas'o is ascendant... Qhude seems to have it under control for the moment.
Ansha nods curtly as Morvius gives his orders, annoyance at being commanded mollified by the fact that her compromise had been decided upon. Her gaze turns to Qhude at his outburst, eyebrow arching until she is certain that the anger-prone Bas'o was still in control of his actions. "The additional reinforcements would seem prudent to me, if we can keep them out of sight until and unless they are necessary," she ventures. "But I could also see the larger force being harder to conceal effectively."
Tebati's demeanor is more dispassionate than Qhude's, but she also makes no direct reply to the general's order. "The more contingencies we have in place, the less plausible our claim to seek to trade words peacefully," she cautions Ansha.
Ansha nods slightly in concession. "This is true as well. You three will be the most exposed in this plan. If you are comfortable with only having the Umkhaya with you, then so be it."
Qhude's eyes narrow and his jaw tenses, placing his hands upon the table he splays his fingers so as to prevent him from drawing them into fists. Breath is drawn in and out through his nose, the audible sound of the air best representing the anger that clearly seethes below the Bas'o's skin. His gaze does not move away from Morvius, and neither does he speak.
Despite the appearances, the umkhaya at least recognize that while the rage of the bas'o is ascendant... Qhude seems to have it under control for the moment.
General Morvius was hardly unaware of Qhude's gaze upon him. He did not shrink away from it, but nor was he interested in a glaring contest with the Bas'o.
I'll leave it in your capable hands to follow through he stated firmly, the finality of the sentence making it clear that the weekly meeting was at an end.
"'Til first light, then," Ansha says, standing and starting to head for the exit from the pavilion tent, nude golem in tow.
Qhude loosens his jaw and exhales in a low rush as he stands. As body raises, his head lowers from staring at Morvius' face and settles in a mock of deferential gaze towards his toes. With voice even and measured, though dripping with disgust he speaks only "As you wish... General" before turning to walk from the tent without seeking eye contact with either Morvius or any of the others in the room.
Kieran sighs, perhaps a little too theatrically, and shrugs. The rogue dislikes long debates, easily bored as he is, and finds that he hardly has the patience for endless strategizing. Still, what he finds mostly grates on his nerves somewhat is the fact that after all they have been through so far, there is still dissension and bad blood amongst them.
"Incredible," he softly voices his thoughts to Tebati. "We have faced considerable risk together and still each of us is no more a comrade to the other than when we first met before the Trials." He thinks on it for a moment and then amends his words. "Alright, that is not quite true. You, Qhude and N'bellocq seem to be getting along nicely at least."
"Still," he continues, his tone uncharacteristically serious, "this has to change sooner or later, or it could lead to disaster. And for that, even the uncompromising must eventually compromise."
"We have faced considerable risk together and still each of us is no more a comrade to the other than when we first met before the Trials." He thinks on it for a moment and then amends his words. "Alright, that is not quite true. You, Qhude and N'bellocq seem to be getting along nicely at least."
"Are you and I not better comrades than we were when we met, then?" she teases quietly, taking his hand, before sobering with a sigh. "I don't know if Qhude will ever forgive Ansha for letting Zesaste leave unhindered. If he had been with us, he would have died before he humbled himself to back down. We met too much in Freehold that was beyond our abilities, and it eats at him." Raising her voice to include Jakob and N'bellocq in the question, she asks, "Do you think we ought to bring Albert's squadron?"
The young noble does not move as Ansha, Qhuse and the golem leave.
With a half smirk Jakob addresses Morvius.
"I think you lost a friend there Morvius." Jakob says stressing the absence of the generals rank. "Qhude, dislikes, taking orders. I expect the same goes for Ansha, she seems more used to being the authority that submitting to it. I cannot speak for the rest of us here but for myself I think I agree with our chandler and our pugilist."
Jakob's voice grows a bit stronger now, gains an edge.
"Perhaps you are overused to dealing with soldiers and rusty at working with people. Anyone can fall into bad habits, but you need to fall out of this one quickly. We are not soldiers we are individuals and we will each choose to help you, or not as we will. We are not your tools to be used, we are not yours at all. We are not subject to your dicipline or to your orders. Any one of us could walk into the jungle at anytime we choose and fetch up hale and happy in Eleder, or Absolom, or anywhere else we choose. You have no hold on any of us that I know of."
"I am staying, for now, because it is interesting. And because I have convinced myself that success will annoy the people who cheered the runners death in the trials. I am likely wrong, we shall see."
Now with your leave, general, I need to choose how I might best prevent the upcoming meeting from becoming a bloodbath."
Answering Tebati as he leaves the tent.
"Ask them. I do not know what one squad could do against thirty warriors but their company would make the walk more pleasant."
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Having exited the tent of the General, Qhude did not linger. His path led across the camp to where his rudimentary bedroll served as marker for his collection of possessions. Falling to his knees atop the ground next to it, he passed eyes and hands over what he now owned... and the journey it represented.
Anklets in bone from the intulo enkulu; hide of an mbube trimmed to form drapery; his weapon of wood, steel and rope; armor that was once pig iron and poorly tanned leather now made with steel and hide that was both supple and strong. His fingers traced along the armor, sliding softly across the embellishments that had been added by his own hand. His work with Cru-tho-ni-ax's tools had grown more precise and his skill while still workmanlike was becoming assured.
Looking up with a sigh, his eyes fell upon his pouch of mind-deadening herbs, and his tarry pipe. It had been many moons since he had seen reason to draw upon the intoxicating fumes and force his emotions to quiescense... and yet he had not discarded it. Thoughts welled up in his core, of long nights in Kalabuto... a broken and bloodied hand... and of his father - whose amulet still weighed heavy and pendulous upon his chest.
Brows furrowed as he was driven to introspection... What sort of man was he?... what worth his blood... and what price did his rage impose upon him. For a long span of moments Qhude sat and stared at the flayleaf. He was not the broken man that he was in Kalabuto... and neither was the General the man who he thought he would be. At each stage upon his journey there had been men who sought to abuse him... the General Alban; the Bandu... with their tainted gift; Bellis Mara...
Through all of that, there were ones that walked with him... shed their blood with him... those who he called his "umkhaya". Sangoma, N'bellocq, Kieran... Jakob in his own way... and even the inscrutable Ansha. Of all his kinsmen her thoughts were the most difficult to understand... and yet still she was there.
What sort of man was he? A broken pugilist who sought refuge from life in the bottom of a flay-pipe? A savage whose only recourse was the rage in his heart and strength of his fist? Sighing he looked down at his calloused hands... turning them over and regarding them as he did. Rough palms, the telltale swelling around his knuckles of bones fractured and poorly healed...
But was that all he was? His fists had saved Albert from disembowelment... a risky grapple had stilled the threat of the Freeman brother with massive bludgeon... and his guisarme had ended not only the demons within the ziggurat, but also the frozen beasts awakened. At each of these times his heart was boldest, strongest, most free when thought faded and the ulaka guided his thoughts. The ulaka - borne of his warrior's blood... even if his tribe did not caste him worthy.
In simple terms he spoke quietly to himself as he mulled over things"I am Bas'o, by igazi.. but they are not my uhlobo. I serve Morvius... but I am not his ibutho... not after tonight. There is no uhlobo that would welcome me... but I have an umkhaya..." steeling his resolve and reaching out to seize his pouch of flayleaf and pipe "It is time to leave my past behind me... and live." standing and making his way to the nearest campfire "I am Qhude..." simple words sounding profound at least to the man who was saying them.
Then with little ceremony he tipped the flayleaf out of his pouch and into the fire, dropping the tarry flay-pipe atop the smouldering pile of leaves. Grimacing he then spit upon the flames... and stood to watch the drugs, and in some way his past, consumed by licking flame.
On her way out, Ansha pauses long enough to glance over her shoulder at Jakob in a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. She shoots Morvius a look disavowing Jakob as she pushes the tent-flap aside and continues out into the camp. That fool's frankness will get him in dire straits some day, she mentally tongue-clucks. Hopefully he doesn't take the rest of us with him.
Only after the last of the flayleaf is consumed by flames does Qhude turn from the campfire. His steps do not return him to his bedroll though... not yet. His path instead cuts through the camp to where Cru-tho-ni-ax has laid claim to land. The now empty flayleaf pouch is turned over in his hand as Qhude puts his thoughts to what he intends to do with the gnome's leatherworking tools.
The young noble does not move as Ansha, Qhuse and the golem leave.
With a half smirk Jakob addresses Morvius.
"I think you lost a friend there Morvius." Jakob says stressing the absence of the generals rank. "Qhude, dislikes, taking orders. I expect the same goes for Ansha, she seems more used to being the authority that submitting to it. I cannot speak for the rest of us here but for myself I think I agree with our chandler and our pugilist."
Jakob's voice grows a bit stronger now, gains an edge.
"Perhaps you are overused to dealing with soldiers and rusty at working with people. Anyone can fall into bad habits, but you need to fall out of this one quickly. We are not soldiers we are individuals and we will each choose to help you, or not as we will. We are not your tools to be used, we are not yours at all. We are not subject to your dicipline or to your orders. Any one of us could walk into the jungle at anytime we choose and fetch up hale and happy in Eleder, or Absolom, or anywhere else we choose. You have no hold on any of us that I know of."
"I am staying, for now, because it is interesting. And because I have convinced myself that success will annoy the people who cheered the runners death in the trials. I am likely wrong, we shall see."
Now with your leave, general, I need to choose how I might best prevent the upcoming meeting from becoming a bloodbath."
The General's scowl appeared at the start of Jakob's speech and only deepened as Jakob continued.
I have been your most stalwart ally, young Jakob. For the most part, I avoid giving your band orders. You lack military discipline and your group suffers from an excess of pride. But when I see you fail to create direction yourselves, I will not hesitate to create it. I am a patriot. I will do what I must to see the land of my ancestors thrive.
A heavy finger was pointed sternly at the young Sargavan.
I have outlined the precariousness of our nation, but it seems to mean nothing to you. The fickleness you speak of with such pride suggests that you either do not understand the importance of what we do here, or you do not care. What of the people you grew up with in Eleder? What of your family, your new charges in the land so generously bestowed to you? You truly have so little investment you would threaten to walk away just because you don't like orders? You have forgotten your place. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you chose to compete in the Trials of Grallus.
The General fixed Jakob with a dead eye stare; perhaps the first time the man had clearly shown true anger.
We invested in you. We have given you a chance to become something great. You have questioned your fortune from the start and looked for conspiracy in every shadow. Let me say this to you, Jakob Mulle. If you truly think that the nation of Sargava has no hold on you, no leverage- then you have clearly been looking in all of the wrong places. Now... get out; and think hard on what you are willing to have on your conscience.
Young Jakob smiles at the general's finger. The young man's voice is calm and friendly.
"Frankly Sargrava can burn for all it matters to me. The nation is an error made by Cheliax and kept alive as a cash cow by the pirates."
"However the current regime is preferable to the Gorilla Kings rule so that will have to do as a hold."
Jakob leaves the tent. "Good night General."
Assuming he survives to reach his bedroll.
"Oh, hello Ansha, need....."
Jakob laughs at the joke and uses the golem as a clothes rack before sleeping the sleep of the foolish and misguided.
"Between Jakob, Ansha and Qhude, there is not a moment of tediousness, is there, love?" The question, spoken softly and accompanied by a brief chuckle, is directed at Tebati as the half-elf starts making his way out of the tent. His only reaction to Morvius' anger is a slightly apologetic look and a sigh and shrug, the mannerism denoting resignation, before he starts on his way to the group's tent.