Charon's skeletal hand moves to the top of the oar, the red sky reflected on the white of the bone. He is quiet for some time, simply peering at her and Nikolai without saying anything. Rogarvia nervously takes a step forward to speak for himself. "Sir, I--"
Charon interrupts him with an immediate rebuke. "You have no say here. I see where you belong, and it is here. You have an advocate in this one. Let her speak for you." Nikolai appears chastened by the ferryman, and stays quiet. Jemini glances over to him, with all the color drained from his face. She knows the way that the afterlife is supposed to go, just as her parents taught her. The deeds of life determine where one goes in death: the righteous to one of the planes of good, the wicked to one of the unending torments, and those who did not stand up for anything to a state of quiet oblivion. She cannot think of anything that suggests that exceptions are made for those souls that have reached their final resting place.
Charon returns his gaze to Jemini, the red pinpoints in the blackness drawing her in with their intense power. "What guarantee do you have that he will act any differently if he returns? No one mourns for him in your world. No one is asking for him to return. Are you willing to share your fate with this man? If you allow him to return with you, you are responsible for his actions. If he is judged by Pharasma to return here to this realm, the weight of that decision will drag you here as well. That is the cost of my passage. Do you accept?"
Jemini swallows hard. Slowly she speaks, to steady herself - lest the trembling in her voice betrays her, "For one such as you, there may be certainties - but what is given to us, as mortals, is the field of possibilities. There is no guarantee, nothing that offers certainty. This too, is our salvation: with Aroden's passing that which will be has been veiled; we cannot say if he will be redeemed, but - also - we cannot say if he will fail." She nods, "Yes. Yes I do accept. If there is a flicker of hope for the Stolen Lands, then I will take it; and I believe that Nikolai is that hope. If Nikolai should fall to Abaddon once more - I will be the first guard that seals him here. I accept"
Zander looks the man up and down. The stag antlers on his head exaggerate the motion.
"Well...eagerness helps." He pauses and the man seemed genuinely interested, so Zander takes a deep breath and continues. "As the Warden, I see to it that the roads are clear and the farms unaccosted." He looks past the man as if watching something or someone, but it merely helps him talk to not have to look the man in the face and instead look out over the land.
"Right now the duties aren't too taxing but new roads are being planned and built, I should think about bringing on more people...as long as it doesn't put me behind a desk counting coins and signing requisitions.." as his vision comes to settle on a cluster from the Abadar contingent.
"Tell you what..the next day or two are going to be kind of hectic..and then after that I will be going to ...well I will be leaving for a while, might be good to have someone on the roads while I'm gone. Find me at the gate tonight after dinner, we can perhaps spar to test your skills with a blade and bow, and then meet with some of my companions. I will need some time to figure out how this all would work, I mean could pay you, but it seems there should be something official..." and he sighs, "..that likely means requisitions."
Finally looking at the man again, "But, what interests you in being a ...deputy? ranger? well...I need to think on that...why do you want join my Warders...Watch, alright I like that. Why do you want to join the Watch, Gregary?"
Taisper walks the halls of the inn, but spies nothing now that most people are asleep. He tries to think back to his arrival here, to how different everything was, but finds he cannot. Things are too different, and he is too focused, his mission too clear. The civilization they are spreading is good, and will bring him many chances to fulfill his destiny. He has to admit to himself he is half curious about what will happen tomorrow, despite the strength of his conviction that Jemini will not wish to come back.
"What if she does return?" The question lingers in his mind as he unstraps his gear and climbs into bed. He dismisses it after a short bit. It doesn't matter, I guess. Even if she comes back, my road has been laid before me. Tomorrow I'll keep a closer eye on the Archbanker. He rubs his head ruefully. ...and on the trees, too...
"Aye, right." Berrin says looking at his glass of wine. Taking a sip he frowns at it and sets it down. "Come on. I've lost my taste for this wine. Let's head on downstairs, it'll still be here when we return."
Heading for the door he pauses, taking a deep breath before opening it and heading through. "Just leave your things Verik, drop 'em anywhere." he says and heads down, his earlier melancholy seeming to have vanished as a grin breaks out on his face and a spring returns to his step.
Reaching the common room he is greeted by raised glasses and cheers, grinning he just raises his hand and waves. Heading through the crowd he is assaulted by handshakes and claps on the back, emerging at Tandlara's and the Leventon's table with a mug of ale that was thrust at him on his way. Sitting down with them he raises his mug and takes a swig before setting it down before him, meeting each eye at the table.
Sitting there with his friends in the common room he feels almost normal again.
"Wha'd I miss?" he asks them. "Where's Corwin?"
The mist of the Styx seems to envelop them completely. No longer can they see the shores of Abaddon, but no other plane welcomes them. There are in limbo, between worlds, completely at the mercy of this ancient, unknowable being who looks at them with pitiless red eyes out of an infinite blackness under his hood. It is an unsettling situation, to say the least. Nikolai barely says a word, but wraps his massive fingers around Jemini's. It is a small comfort in this uncomfortable place, but it is the only human comfort they have had since arriving.
Gregary seems quite pleased to have Zander's attention. He seems quite guileless to the suspicious Zander. "Frankly, I'm just looking for any place to prove myself. My father was a farmer in a small town on the coast of the Lake. When Lord Orlovsky founded New Orlovs, he was forced to give up the homestead that he had worked for his entire life, where his father and his grandfather had worked. We moved on the whim of a nobleman to help sustain his new city. We weren't mistreated or anything, but it still stung that another man could simply order us around like that. He made me promise that I would rise in station, so that no man could order me around like a servant. It's why I like being a sellsword. A man has to buy my services, treat me decent, and I can walk away when the contract's up if I don't like how I've been treated. That's freedom, my friend. That's the dream. My father saved up all his gold to buy me this armor and sword. It's nothing fancy, but it's treated me well. I haven't replaced them, though I've got enough money saved at the Bank of Abadar in Restov. I got a few reasons. First, they're not as shiny as some men's, but they're functional and I keep 'em clean. Second, they remind me of where I came from. Third, and most important, they remind me of where I'm going. In a few years, once I've saved up a good chunk of gold, I'm going to return to the farm. I'm going to lay them at his feet and say, 'Father, thank you. I couldn't have risen to where I am today without your generosity and faith in me. Let me return the favor.' Then I'm gonna give him enough gold that he never has to work another harvest, and he can retire someplace with a decent servant of his own." He smiles wistfully into his mug, lost in his fantasy and the clear love he has for his family.
As Taisper and Berrin both make their way to sit at the table, the people in the common area seem to be in a pretty good mood. The food is decent, though not as good as Svetlana's, and the ale is plentiful. There is a rumor floating around that a mad dwarf installed a device in the basement, using steam and cogs, that produces more ale in an hour, and of higher quality, than a man can drink in a day. One of the common men, likely a farmer or a smith or some other honorable profession, starts to stand and stumbles as he makes his way up. "Attenshun! Attenshun!" His voice is slurred, but the mirth in it is quite evident. "I want to be the first to toast Newhaven and all that it stands for! Itsh about time that shomeone came up with the idea of letting a commoner have a little power! I hear that Berrin isn't a king or a lord, but just a bloke like you and me. That'sh shomething that I can shtand behind! To Not-King Berrin!" Laughing and mirthful, the rest of the (more sober) crowd joins in toasting the regent.
Verik stands a bit behind and to the side of Berrin as he raises his tankard to the rest of the table, slightly amused that no one thrust a mug in his direction, though he did receive plenty of all-too respectful nods from those that noticed his silver key symbol. Not that it bothered Verik, for he preferred to have a glass of wine upstairs when he was just with friends. For now he was on duty.
For his part, Berrin seemed to truly enjoy the warm response from the wayfarers. Verik did not want to dampen that by being too close, yet is close enough to intercede if Berrin needs it. Giving a smile to Tandlara and Svetlana seated together talking, he nods to Oleg and walks over to lean and speak a quick word to him.
"Berrin would like to see us upstairs in a bit for more relaxed tales and talk, so if you and Svetlana would be agreeable for a bit? Please let Tandlara know, as I see Zander over across the way..."
He nods and briefly leaves the table to have a quick word with Zander, though he pauses and shakes his head slightly as the loud commoner slurs his rather raucous toast.
Looking around, he sights Kesten, but fails to see Taisper or Corwin for the moment.
Making his way to Zander and the armored stranger he's talking to, he nods and uses a bit more formality in front of him. "Master Warden," Verik intones, "good evening to you, and pardon my interruption. The Regent has requested our presence later in his quarters for...some clarification on the circumstances of our endeavors here before the Battle of Stagfall...for record-keeping purposes of course." His eyes twinkle with a bit of mirth. "It should not keep you from your vigil overly much...ahh...may I tell the Regent he can count on you?"
Leaving Zander, he greets and speaks the same invitation to Kesten Garess, briefly answering any greetings or requests made to him by the wayfarers in the common room. He will stop and speak to any others he that should join them if he sees them, though he will not speak to Alexius Morai-Thrune unless forced. Then he makes his way back to the table with Berrin and the others, attempting to note how much ale he's already had.
Just about to sit down, Taisper gets up and mutters a quick "Whoops! 'Scuse me. See a buddy over there..." and walks over to the back of the room. He approaches a man with a notebook and, after making an exaggerated show of inspecting the fellow's unused mug, begins to speak. "At a bar, the hostess served a guest a cup of cider and told him it was spiked. Next, she served some to an Archbanker of Abadar, a very pious and holy man. “I would rather commit adultery than allow liquor to pass my lips!” he says to her sternly. Well, after hearing this, the first man poured his cider out and said, “I didn’t know we had a choice!”" The inquisitor chuckles and beams down at the stranger. "Hey, friend, I'm Taisper. How are you? What brings you 'round these parts?"
Not what a girl dreams of, when she's growing up, Jemini muses as she stares into the faux void. How real is what I'm seeing? Or is this a complex metaphor that has somehow taken shape?
Nikolai appears to be chasing thoughts of his own too, I think it must be for the best. There's much he - we - are experiencing for the first time; I hope he'll find himself.
Time, and the sense of it passing, have lost all context for Jemini. She occasionally catches herself thinking that not more than five minutes could've passed. Then again she stares into the waters of the Styx for what might be months.
Maybe there really is such a thing as destiny. Maybe there are many of these. Many fates. Everything happens - but I only experience one of them. She stares at Charon, maybe he sees all fates; and what he's doing isn't taking me to Axis, but instead to the fate he deems fit. Maybe he's taking us to all fates.
A succession of thoughts follow, one more obscure then the next, eventually she asks, perhaps days later: "Charon. Have we met before? Have I asked this before?"
Zander hears enough after a few sentences. How many lives has my father destroyed? But the lad just seems to love to talk. Zander waits till he winds down.
"Well Gregary, I think heard enough. I like the freedom this job entails and it seems you will enjoy that too. Hired, I hope you will come to value what we are doing here more than the value of a coin. But we can let that come with time. Tomorrow we can talk details, tonight enjoy the feast."
When Verik approaches, he will introduce Gregary. "I am about to bring him on as first of my Warden's Watch. Apparently I have staff now."
"Ah, I see." Verik tilts his head slightly and looks at Gregary with the expression of judging whether a goose at market is worthy of purchase. "Well you seem fit and eager, Master Gregary, though I should think you would need to be suitable with a bow as well as a sword. I have fought with the Warden of the White Hart here and he is formidable - you would do well to pay attention to his instruction. Just remember that an Oath of service, once taken, cannot be undone." He nods to the young man and turns back to Zander, his voice with a bit of gravity to it. "If you wish a Truthtelling to bind the Oaths he must take, let me know before the 'morrow and I shall prepare for it accordingly."
Jemini peers into the cloak that covers Charon's face, as deep and black as the Styx itself. The ancient being stares back, and for a moment, it is as if he offers the faintest of smirks deep in his hood. "A perceptive question. Who is to say that we have not been here before? We are always at this point, this moment in time. There were a million possibilities, all of which could have been and can be, that which will be and was and is. Souls, you see, have an infinite potential, and that potential is the possibility that each soul represents. Each of these possibilities, no matter how minute, plays our in each soul. In a manner of speaking, this is not our first, nor our last, meeting, nor have we ever met." His cryptic words echo over the still black water. "The universe, even your individual soul, is so infinitely more vast than you, or even I, can comprehend. You will be judged by the actions of this life, though, not the possibilities that you did not take." He falls quiet, and not a noise can be heard as they sail through the inky water.
The sky above them begins to swirl in random colors. Great floating boulders crash into each other, untethered by any gravity. Globes of water turn to sand before their eyes, while fire and lightning clash in all directions. It is chaos in its purest, most elemental form. The only constant is the black water of the Styx. Charon looks up and remarks quietly, "The Maelstrom."
The man speaking to Taisper calmly closes his leatherbound journal and offers him a polite smile. "Quite the joke, good sir. Quite the joke. I am just passing through on my way to Mivon and enjoying the company. I'm quite glad to enjoy a bit of safety during this trip for once. It gives me some time to write down my private thoughts rather than keep a close eye out for bandits looking to kill me for a quick buck."
Gregary regards Verik with a bit of a confused look. "I suppose that I could swear an oath of loyalty in my own way. I won't work for free, and I won't be treated like a servant. I won't do anything that the gods would judge me on. Other than that, I will be entirely loyal. There's nothing like the loyalty of a free man. Take a man's freedom and he'll think of nothing else, but make sure that it is never threatened and he'll love you for it. That's what my father always said, and I believe it. I'll say whatever words you want, and mean them too. An oath is only true if it's freely given, and I'm only freely giving it if it's something that I can return home to my father with and proudly tell him about."
Berrin raises his mug to the drunkards toast. "Berrin! Not-King!" he echoes with a booming laugh, swallowing a large gulp. 'Does he even know it's me? Does the man even recognize me?' With a large grin he turns back to his companions and shakes his head. "Ahh.. Funny." he says, leaning in on the table proped up on his elbows.
The toast hit a nerve with Berrin and he's obviously anoyed with it.
Looking up at Gregory he gives the man a once over with a critical eye. Smiling at his exchange with Verik he shakes his head at the clerics rigidness against the would-be rangers easyness. "Don't mind him. He's so boged down in protocol he's have you write out a report for every arrow loosed and every notch in your blade or scratch on your armor. You'r word's good enough for me if it's good enough for Zander, if you take the coin, your our man, and Zander will take care off ya." he says grinning up at the fellow free-spirit, silently envying both him and Zander their freedom. 'I'd make a good warden.' he thinks sullenly, 'Just as good as Zander.' follows jelously in his mind.
"I'm Berrin, Berrin Myrdal. Sit. Take a drink with us. If your gona be one of us we'd better get to know each other right?"
Taisper smiles winningly. "Ah, boy howdy, do I ever hear ya! Was just passing through, myself, with a few friends here, on our way to see the legendary battlefield! The locals call it, um...Deer...something? Deerfall? Studfall? No that's not right..." The inquisitor positions himself between the man and the nearest exit, making a motion as if to sit down, and doing so as casually as possible. He has no weapons or armor, but he does have his magic and his certain special...willingness...for pursuit.
Taisper suddenly stands straight upright again. The better to be ready to grab this meatclown if he bolts... "Stagfall!" He exclaims. "That's what it was. Stagfall. You hear of it? I live with my older brother in a cabin, we're homesteaders and brewers, and we always had to deal with these jerks what worked for a bandit king called the Stag Lord, and well, that Berrin fella there, he and a bunch of others killed that guy and have now started running this whole land here, and life is so much better! Man you have no idea. Anyway, like I said, I was passing through with friends and heard there's going to be a memorial there or something tomorrow, something to celebrate the passage of time and increase in safety and prosperity and hey! I'm behind those things! So I thought it'd be neat to check it out. For safety, you know! To celebrate it."
The Abadarian heretic takes a big gulp of his cider. "So! Mivon! Never been there, me, how is it? Nice place?"
Taisper eyes the man carefully. At first glance, he appears to be a normal citizen of any steadhold. He has a strong body, but not with a soldier's muscle. He has a dagger on his belt, a common sight in these parts, but its edge is a little too sharp and not nearly nicked enough for him to have used it on ropes and other farm uses. Without looking at his aura, it is difficult to tell if he can wield magic, but he doesn't carry himself like any magic-user he's ever seen. "Yes, Stagfall. I was virtually unable to make the trip while the Stag Lord ruled these parts, not without a tremendous risk. Mivon is great, a true meritocracy. The Aldori Swordlords who survived Choral's conquest fled there and created the city, where nearly every matter of state and honor is settled by duel."
The man doesn't seem to be remembering experiences, but rather facts. It's quite unlikely that he's actually from Mivon.
Verik's face flickers with annoyance with Berrin, but he keeps his eyes locked on Gregary. "Ahh ahem well yes I was just about to say Master Gregary that your words about an Oath needing to be freely undertaken speaks well of your character. Serious engagement of duty to protect the lives and property of civilized people should merit such an Oath, but the terms and conditions of it is, naturally, left to the Warden to work out with you. I merely state the power of Abadar to verify the veracity of such an Oath as it is taken, not to compel someone to agree to terms they would not otherwise take on." He turns again to Zander. "If you have need of it as a safeguard to those that enter your...Watch...you need but ask of course."
Moving back around the table towards Berrin, Verik thinks for a moment he hears Taisper's laughter and voice.
He spots Taisper on the other side of the room now, in jovial conversation with some stranger seated by himself at a table, and frowns. Hmm won't take the time to speak to me after weeks on end, but has plenty of time to yuk it up with strangers I see. Well fine that's just fine...
Verik reaches Berrin's side as he's speaking towards Gregary, and without much subtlety he peers into his ale mug and raises a single finger at him, his eyebrows raised.
That is... not enough, I don't understand. Jemini's thoughts feel like they are on the precipice of understanding - but that understanding would come at the cost of falling down a deep tumultous ravine of chaotic understanding; a notion that her mind reels away from with fear. Time, I need more time. Or would, if I ever hope to have a chance of grasping this. What is it? Do even the gods understand this universe? Always more, so much more behind every small piece. "Thank you, Charon." Is all that she manages.
When he points out the Maelstrom she cocks her head. The swirling chaos had beauty and shape intrinsically even if infinitely mutable; as if it toyed with order and found the notion boring. Too Jemini's mind it is untouchable, her eyes cannot grasp one notion that the Maelstrom presents and digest it quick enough before the fleeting constructs evolve, dissolve or otherwise transubstantiate. Transubstantiate, did I just think that?
Watching Verik peer into his mug Berrin stares, frowning, into his eyes at his reminder. Glancing into his mug he shrugs and takes a swig before leaning back into his chair to take in the interior of the inn. "It's different." he says out of the blue.
Leaning back on the table he nods to Oleg. "You still the owner of the place? Is this post still called Oleg's?" he asks.
Raising an eyebrow at the man, Taisper gives him a dubious look. "Duels? To settle everything? I dunno, sounds terrible to me. That's not civilization, that's law of the jungle, might makes right. We as humans must rise above such base instincts, don't you think?" The inquisitor pauses to take another drink of his cider.
"In the book of the Lawgiver of Abadar -- a faith, to be honest, to which I myself have only just recently come around -- it states 'Let a law's fairness be judged by the people, and those over whom it holds dominion, and let those who would seek undue influence, or to rule by processes unjust, or replace fairness and legal skill with strength of arms fear me, and know their ways are not the ways of civilization..." Taisper's eyes get shiny, and his voice starts rising in pictch and volume as he quotes one of his favorite passages from the Book. "...and my punishment shall be delivered unto them with swiftness, and righteousness, and THEY SHALL KNOW THE HAMMER OF THE LAW AND THE TRUE MEANING OF JUSTICE!"
A number of people get quiet and look strangely at the inquisitor. He blushes a bit and chuckles. "Sorry! Heh. Sorry. That part gets me fired up! The next part talks about fair trials and things. You know. Proper, uh, proper...stuff." he offers lamely to those in earshot. Then he quiets down and looks at the man with the book and speaks just to him. "Uh, anyway I got distracted there. What were we talking ab-- oh right! Swordlords! Yeah. Sounds awful." He gestures at the guy's book. "Say, you a writer? Poet? Bard? We could sure use more entertainment around here."
Verik nods in acceptance. "Still best to have our meeting upstairs after a short while. I go to check on the shipment but will return shortly while you are with our own."
He moves away from the table, looking again in the direction of Taisper and the stranger as his ears pick up a familiar passage from the Order of Numbers amidst the noise of a packed common room. He means to make a look at Taisper, but his cousin's back is to him from his vantage point, the stranger seated opposite him with his own back to the far wall.
"Well I don't think that's going to win over new followers," he mutters mostly to himself.
Moving in the direction of the door, he is waylaid by a man who asks for a blessing for his wife and infant child. Verik agrees and promises to meet with them in the early morning before their departure.
Charon looks upwards as he continues to push the boat through the still black water of the Styx. In that ancient voice, he muses on the Maelstrom's nature. "Many that I ferry from Pharasma's court end up as part of the chaos of the Maelstrom. There are those that believe that chaos is the natural state of the universe, that the Maelstrom is the most pure and untouched place in all the cosmos. There is an underlying order to the disorder and entropy, though, as difficult as that is to believe. Some also believe that it is there that the lives unlived echo through the ages, choices never made and futures never realized. There are some who have tried to draw on that chaos to call forth entire realities which never were in their world, though never with much success. I once had a conversation with a very interesting theologian who proposed that a resurrection, being so at odds with the natural order of life, was actually the creation of a whole new being from the tapestry of the unknown future. I could not say, though. There are some things that are beyond even my ken."
The man Taisper speaks to draws back immediately as he points to the book. He seems distracted and doesn't seem to react to Taisper's slip, clutching the book to his abdomen protectively. "Yes, Mivon's got its flaws, but it's home to me. I'm not a writer or a bard, just a businessman. I had some trading up in Restov, but it's done now and I'm prepared to head back home. If you wouldn't mind, though, I think it's long past my time to get some rest. I was lucky enough to get one of the rooms, and I'm going to go make sure that it hasn't been given away." He stands and makes his way politely but firmly past Taisper. He disappears into the stairwell, his boots thumping against the wooden stairs as he makes his way to the second floor.
Over on the other end of the common room, Oleg nods at Berrin's question. When Berrin seems to shake his head looking for more information, Oleg breaks his reticence. "Yes, I still own it. Making a good profit, more than I ever made before you all arrived. Lewros is a decent man, and a good manager. Honest with the books, too." He returns to his drink and silence, silently watching over his successful business empire. He silently raises a toast, though he doesn't say to whom.
Taisper holds up one arm to stop the man, but a seat clears nearby and he is able to duck around. As he does, though, the Inquisitor has time to give him a quick, hushed warning.
"A 'businessman', eh? Well be sure your books are clean. The Master's eyes are everywhere, and the scales always balance. "
Taisper then suddenly gives a little head twitch. "Heh. Oh, right! Verik!" He turns and, seeing his cousin nearby, strides over to him, smiling warmly. "Verik! Fella! Hey, you wanted to chat?"
"But wouldn't that imply that everything, even Axis, are fundamentally built of the Maelstrom," Jemini thinks aloud. "Like pockets of chaos that are less transient than..." a bit helplessly she looks at the eddies of mutable realities around her, "well this." Is that a soothing or a harrowing thought? I can't decide.
As Verik turns after speaking to the traveler, he finds Taisper suddenly where he didn't expect him to be, and gives a startled jump.
"Wha...why...well yes I did want to chat, seeing as how we have not done so in over two months time! Here you show up yesterday evening in Sanctuary out of the mists and..." Yes truly an excellent way to get him to talk to you by berating him the first chance you get so stop it!
Verik stops speaking abruptly and closes his mouth, looking around a moment as they are in the middle of the common room crowd. "My apologies, Taisper, for that was undeserved. A long day's journey has made me irritable, but that does not excuse it. Ahh, well, erm well yes I would like to chat, to catch up really on many things...but you see I was just on the way to review the shipment of stonework for the battle site." Remembering his promise he snaps his fingers in sudden remembrance. "Oh and Berrin you see needs us soon upstairs for a little gathering...I was coming to find you on that...so I do not have much time to spare it seems. You will attend won't you?"
He looks around again rather sheepishly, and a little uncomfortable in the middle of the common room tables. "I do need to talk to you about the thing though," he makes a writing notion with his hands with his voice lowered, "so if you are not busy perhaps we can check on the storehouse together before adjourning to Berrin's suite?"
"Well of course, Verik man, lead on. We can do a little inventory control and then head to Berrin's shindig. Or meeting. Or whatever it is." He smiles and strolls out into the night air with his cousin. "So you're still not keen on ridin', huh? Man, you need to get out and practice more! That's what I been doin'. Trying to practice the riding skills and outdoor skills. Next I might go to a big city, like back home, and see how I fare on my own in a place like that. Heck maybe I'll leave tomorrow." The inquisitor gives a conspiratorial wink.
"Yes well it's another addition to a list I have rolled up somewhere on the many facets of myself that I must strive to improve upon," says Verik dryly. He waves at a guard near one of the unmarked storerooms up against the palisade wall, motioning to be let inside. "I have a suspicion, however, that no amount of traipsing through the Narlmarches is going to make me better at the outdoors. Why it's bad enough with what Jhod is having me undergo in his teachings with me at the healing arts, learning all manner of silly green weeds and what properties they are supposed to be good for and preparing them and all that."
Verik seems a bit slow at the mention of Taisper and a big city as they wait for the guards to unchain the doors. "Faring in a big city...like Alkenstar or Absalom?" He waves a hand. "Well plenty of time for that I'm sure when our duties subside, though that may be a while. Did I ever tell you of Korvosa with Venerable Master Knesh? Fascinating place in its own way...ah here we are."
Verik pulls forth a parchment from a scroll case in his robes and summons forth light to clearly see by, and starts to examine the gravestones for their quality and the engraved names. "Yes his craftsmanship is worth what he asked for I'd say," Verik murmurs with some degree of reverence. He points to the centerpiece that stands by itself in the far corner - a large circular engraved stone base with a column standing on top of it, and the sculpted form of the stag helm flanked by swords with blades pointing downwards. "There it is, Taisper. Perhaps you would give me your honest assessment, as I did not forget your words back on that day to come up with something worthy, of substance, but not gaudy or overly wrought."
After a little bit of time checking through the gravestones and ensuring the names and count are accurate, as well as examining the main column and basin, Verik rolls up his parchment and puts it away, and then turns to Taisper. "We'd best be getting back to Berrin and the rest, but first the business about the note today. He leans forward and speaks in a hushed, conspiratorial tone which seems somewhat ridiculous coming from him, but his eyes and tone are serious enough. "I lied to the Archbanker last night at the feast, cousin, and it had to do with you. I need to explain this, as you are now part of my pitifully poor deception. The Master may extract penance for such an act and I shall receive it gladly, but I fear we stand on a small island here with the storm waters rising and lapping at the walls we try to build here. This may be hard to hear and understand cousin, but...but I fear Archbanker Vinodragov may not have our best interests here where it concerns Newhaven." He finishes these last words as if they are a thunderous revelation.
Taisper blinks in astonishment at the gravestones. I don't have a damn clue what makes for a nice monument...! He keeps his face deadpan as he pretends to examine the sharpness of the writing or some such thing. I can't believe Verik took my suggestion. I better tell 'im something... "Er, these monuments, they look good. These sure seem to fit the bill." Taisper nods in satisfaction at the stones and smiles what he hopes is a confident and sure smile at his cousin.
The younger cousin holds his tongue while Verik tells him about the Archbanker. He knew about that, of course, but he hadn't known that Verik had accidentally outed him. "That's okay, Verik. I knew about the Archbanker already. Have known since before Stagfall. I tried sneaking one by him then, but failed, probably worse than you did, so don't feel bad. He's had a lot more practice being a sneaky bastard than any of us have." He turns and walks out of the room. Being around the grave markers brought strange and uncomfortable thoughts to the inquisitor. "Anyway, I'm kind of keeping an eye on him best I can. We'll see what comes of it. Thanks for telling me! Now let's go see what Berrin's up to."
When Corwin rose this morning it was with a determination to shake off the malaise he had felt under since his near death at the hands of the Stag Lord. Since finding his size as a teenager he had prided himself on his phsyical strength. He had been cuffed, bruised, spat on, beaten but never as an adult had he found his strength exceeded, not by one man. Never had he found himself humiliated in battle.
During the long weeks of his recovery, he thought again and again of the fight. He had wounded his foe certainly, he had not run. But as he saw it his survival had been luck, fickle fate. And while he had lived, Jemini had died. He had difficulty dealing with the anger now, the control he thought solid seemed illusory.
While he accepted the title of Marshall he could not but feel that he did not deserve it, that he was just a placeholder for a better warrior, a better man, nobler. It didn't help that there wasn't a lot to do as Marshall at least initially. Boys and farmers more comfortable holding a hoe than a weapon did not seem a promising start though he went through the motions.
Walking along in the woods near the post he leaned on the walking stick he had found himself using since his injury. Lifting it up he regarded it. How am I going to fight with this? He said aloud to a nearby tree. I don't need it any longer. He left it there and headed back to the gates. One ale in the common room and then perhaps Berrin or someone else would agree to a sparring session. He needed the practise.
"You...already know? Since before Stagfall?" Verik's voice is clear with shock and surprise. Has he had contact with the Grand Bank when I have not? No...not the Grand Bank of Absalom surely, but this Sect he belongs to? What else is so clear to him that I fail to see? Perhaps...perhaps I have had it wrong all this time to think that he accompanied me on this endeavor, but I accompany him on a mission I have no awareness of?
"Taisper wait." He puts up his hands, but his voice is not angry but somewhat pleading. "Clearly I have not read the signs as you have, and you now raise many more questions that I want to ask you, but that can wait for a better time I suppose. Before we go back, however, I must tell you what I have done - consider it a 'confession' to the only Abadaran I can trust in this ruinous place, though you are not a formal cleric. Ahh, you see I have claimed to the Archbanker that you are an Initiate...
Verik relates the story of the night before, including Taisper's notoriety with his declarations to Abadar at the Stag Lord's fall, and the reaction of Archbanker Vinodragov to it. He paces back and forth as he relates the story and Vinodragov's reaction. "You see Taisper he did not know you, though protocol would dictate that we should both be identified to the Bankers and Archbankers of a different city or realm if we are sent to their jurisdiction. My arrival was clearly announced by the Grand Bank of Absalom before our arrival. But he did not know your status at all. To my knowledge only the Justicars have the stature to come unannounced, but there you are." Verik stops and raises a finger up in the air as he looks at his cousin. "And if he does not KNOW you are a...an Agent of Abadar, perhaps there is a reason he does not know. What reason could that be, that an Archbanker would be denied a full accounting? In any event I could not tell him otherwise, as it...felt...wrong to do so. So I lied to him, told him I gave you the Rites as an Initiate during Taxfest, and that you were new in the ways of Abadar, but showed much potential. I lied to an Archbanker of our Master...and I confess that I had other reasons, of a selfish and more personal nature, that added to my decision."
"Of course he saw through my lie well enough," Verik sighs irritably, "as I am poor at playing at bluffs and gambits. But I believe he thinks merely that I have engaged in a form of nepotism or cheap favoritism for a blood relation. He has it out for me you know, but I do not believe he can oust me unless Newhaven becomes part of Brevoy proper. Still, he does not know your full stature...whatever that is...you haven't really revealed that to me either you know." Verik finishes rather lamely on his last part.
Berrin cracks a grin at Oleg, "Smart man." he says and raises his tankard to him. Draining it he sighs and looks around the common room, it's cozy and not-so crowded, warm and friendly in a rustic way Berrin could appreciate, leaning back he laces his fingers together and just enjoys the squalor.
Sitting there for a while he just waves Verik to his seat when he comes to drag him upstairs, "No, no. It's fine. Just sit." he smiles at him. "I'm still on my first tankard." he says, smirking when he catches his look. "Just sit.
Seeing Corwin enter without his stick brings another smile to his lips. 'Maybe our fearless warrior is gaining his courage again. Good. We need a strong marshal.' Waving him over he tells him to drag up a chair and hollars after two more ales wich he will share with Corwin.
Spending the evening in the company of friends Berrin falls happily asleep as the evening draws to an end. 'Jemini will return to us tomorow.' he thinks in blissful tiredness induced by a couple of ales. 'Everything will return to normal, I can drop this charade and join Akiros in training the army, or maybee join Zander's Guard or become a Warden under Corwin...' thinking along those lines, he falls asleep.
The group breaks their fast at Oleg's at first light, eager to get moving to the site of the battle. It brings back good memories to awaken there, though it is warmer than it was in the spring. Summer is coming to chase winter away. Though they are still far north, the warmth of summer will reach them still. There is a gentle breeze coming from the north and a blue cloudless sky above. The inn is bustling with activity, as the settlers are headed south to Newhaven with newly-arrived caravan guards and the Lebedas prepare to head west to the site of Stagfall. Verik spends most of the morning running from wagon to wagon, ensuring that all of the gravestones are accounted for.
The ride to the battlefield is longer than they remember, but shorter at the same time. There is less anxiety and restlessness compared to their previous trip, replaced by a happy excitement. The imminent return of their friend and leader is a making everyone in the group, whether from Brevoy or from Newhaven, almost giddy with excitement.
Which is why it is a crushing blow when nothing happens.
When they arrived, Archbanker Vinodragov, never one to miss an opportunity for a speech, gave a sermon on the inestimable value of life. Apparently not seeing the irony, he then produced an ancient-looking scroll and began the ritual of resurrection by grinding an expensive-looking diamond to dust. The Archbanker's acolytes apparently rode through the night to exhume Jemini's body and wrap it in cloth. Their efforts kept the sight of her corpse away from her parents, though Lady Lebeda appeared to be stifling tears as she looked upon the covered body. Lord Lebeda appeared stoic, comforting his noble wife. Vinodragov intoned a prayer in (flawless) Celestial, reading it from the scroll in a melodic voice.
As he finished the invocation, Vinodragov touched Jemini's body. A great white light, almost blinding even in the sun, flowed out of his hand and into her. To the crowd, he said, "Jemini Lebeda, return to life!" As the assembled crowd, which numbered several dozen including the retinue of the Lebedas and several lesser functionaries of the Church of Abadar, waited breathlessly to see Jemini rise, the Archbanker's face fell as the moments dragged on and her body remained still. In a quiet voice, he almost whispered, "She is not here. She has not returned. But I felt it, I felt the power of Abadar." The crowd murmured in shock, not understanding why or how she did not return.
Sitting atop Valnyr Berrin bites back a curse when it becomes apparent that nothing is going to happen. "I told you to speak with the dead first!" he mutters through clenched teeth, biting back another curse.
Sighing he dismounts and let's Valnyr's reins drop, knowing the horse has the sense to stay out of trouble, more sense than himself sometimes. Going over to Verik he lays a hand on his shoulder, for his and his own reassurance, and sharing a look with Kesten he goes over to Lord and Lady Lebeda with Kesten by his side.
'Ok Cayden, sweet Pharasma and any other god who might be looking on or remotely interested in whats happening here, please, please, please, don't let my tongue get me into trouble.' he prays silently, his stomach doing funny things with every step.
"What a frakking mess." he sighs as he gets near them. "I hate to say I told ya so, but ya should have tried speak with the dead first." he says earnestly, giving the Archbanker an accusing look.
Taisper, not at all surprised that Jemini has not returned, pays no attention to the stymied Archbanker and instead looks very carefully at every set of eyes in the now-murmuring crowd, looking for something very specific.
Something, or someone, has got a hook in you, don't they? This was all way too smooth, you were way too ready to come trotting over for House Lebeda. I already know you're on the take, but why? Is it someone here? Or something someone here knows? Or has?
Taisper looks for a sympathetic glance, or shrouded eyes, or a comforting look. Anything to indicate a relationship closer than it should be between someone in the crowd and the Archbanker. Who is it? Who is it? Even if he finds what he's looking for, Taisper knows that won't necessarily give him any answers, but it'll be a starting point.
Muttering blackly in celestial, the young inquisitor steps forward, pointing an accusing finger at the Archbanker. "Your faith isn't strong enough, is it? You've led us all here on false pretenses, this is a sham and a mockery! I'm just a homesteader but even I can see that! You're just collecting coin without delivering the goods! We want the hero of Stagfall back, we want Saint Jemini returned! Bring her back, or fall and beg forgiveness of me and everyone assembled here! Charlatan! Fraud! I dare speak against you!"
Taisper stands, frowning, not 30ft. from the Archbanker, his arms crossed and his golden eyes flashing, the murmuring crowd all around.
Zander hangs his head as he was positive that Jemini would come back. But his head comes back up at hearing Taisper's raised voice.
Bowstrings! I thought had hoped we would be back in Brevoy before trouble started.
Zander makes no obvious move other than the Hart Helm moving back and forth scanning those gathered, making sure no one gets a drop on whatever Taisper has arranged.
In the rare series of circumstances that threatens to unravel all civility and decorum on the hallowed battle site, Verik stands stunned, truly not knowing what to say. He feels Berrin's hand on his shoulder and the well-meaning but rather horrendous words spoken by him to the Lebedas, but can say nothing. Taisper denounces Vinodragov before the entirety of the gathering and under the watchful eyes of the Master above, but Verik still says nothing. Dear Jemini...she...she is not coming back to us... He shuts his eyes tight as the tears start to form and begins to pray, bowing his head, his mouth mumbling unintelligibly.
Oh Abadar, Revered Master of the First Vault, please please please I beg for guidance and comprehension! This sacred place where Order and Weal triumphed over Chaos and Woe, what have we done wrong to displease you? If I have wronged us here, I vow to repent fully and pay full compensation! Please show me the cobblestone path to keep all that has been wrought here from being undone! By the Lawgiver's Gavel, you DO NOT not tolerate strife and violence between your true Servants, but I cannot stand idly by if Taisper, your Agent of Law, would fall to one which is suspect! If Vinodragov has been forsaken by you as Taisper proclaims, give me a sign and I shall see fair Justice done!
Vinodragov blinks a few times, staring almost blankly at the scroll. The magic of it has gone out, leaving it nothing but parchment. "I... She..." He falls to his knees, eyes rolling back into his head. His hands dig into the grass, the dirt coming up between his fingers. "I don't know... Abadar, my lord!" For several long moments, he does nothing but sob. The onlookers appear dumbfounded, especially several of the acolytes.
Jemini grimaces, but manages a smile: "This proves that we haven't met before; there is no question - I stay with Nikolai. We will return together."
Mother! Father! Not yet! Please wait just a little longer! she prays fervently, hoping that some part will come through.
Taisper continues to stand in the clearing, in the middle of everything. Suddenly he looks over at one of the Lebeda girls, a tall and shapely beauty whose fists are clenched as she stares hatefully at him. His golden eyes bore into hers, and then he carefully, deliberately looks her up and down, drinking in every detail about her. The act is not at all sensual or leering, but cold and matter-of-fact. It is the look of a hunter -- or Hunter -- familiarizing himself with new quarry. In the end, he says nothing to her, just commits to memory every detail about her and those around her that he possibly can.
No need to call her out here. Let her make the move. I can find her later if need be.
The inquisitor steps closer to the Archbanker. He stands impassively over him, positioning himself so the sun is crowning his shoulders so Vinodograv will have to squint and shield his eyes should he choose to look up. "Hey, Vinodograv. Mister. Hey man, you know who I am?" Taisper speaks quietly enough only the older man will hear. "I can take your confession now, Archbanker, and maybe you can save yourself a dignified way out of this. I believe you know what I'm talking about. Don't make this end badly. You have already been Judged, or I would not be here. This is the only chance you are going to get."
Taisper believes utterly in the truth and rightness of what he is saying, but some part of him can't help but wonder just what exactly he's going to do if this gets ugly. Judged or no, Vinodograv still has authority and could potentially get some guards motivated and make things unpleasant. And while it wouldn't bother him in the least, Taisper knows he can't carry out judgment under the present circumstances for fear of others not understanding and making a scene. That will have to wait until later.
Keeping himself together with this renewed understanding and its urgency, he steps forward slowly towards Jemini's spirit over her fallen body, keeping his eyes steadily upon her, nodding, angling towards the Lord and Lady Lebeda. He mouths words silently, but the voice in his head is shouting. Can you hear me, Jemini? Can you carry your words to me? I shall be the conduit of Order and Weal for you. Love and faith allows me to see you...perhaps it is stronger still with your father and mother and I all together...I am nearly there now to them...can you hear me with my thoughts? Let me hear your voice and your words Jemini - you have come so far to do this now...
When he reaches the Lebedas he does not look at them, but only nods fervently in the direction of the Jemini he sees. He extends his hands to them, hoping that even if they cannot take his hands with their grief, their proximity will be enough to attune him to Jemini more clearly. He speaks loudly in his own mind. I am here for you Jemini, and so are your mother and father. Abadar willing, Jemini, speak to me or through me as you can - I will be the conduit for your words, and will not resist you. What have you come so far to tell us, though you cannot...or will not...return to your earthly form?
Verik chokes off a strange cry that does not quite sound like grief or sorrow. He seemingly has no reaction to Taisper's denouncement of the Archbanker, Vinodragov falling to his knees in shame, or any of the rest of the assembly. Verik's murmurs are not intelligible and are barely audible, and he shuffles slowly towards Lord and Lady Lebeda and also nearer to the wrapped body of Jemini, his hands pressed together tightly in prayer, his eyes tear-stained but now unblinking. As he gets closer to Lord and Lady Lebeda, Verik extends his hands to each of them, but continues to stare and murmur at the body of Jemini, his lips muttering purposefully but unclear. It stands out to those who know Verik as something that seems very much unlike him, both in public mannerisms and sensible protocol.
Taisper doesn't waiver or take his eyes off the Archbanker, but he does watch his cousin peripherally.
WHAT in the BLAZES...?!
Taisper gives you a sidelong smile and doesn't even try to hide that there is a lot he's not telling you.
Jemini's eyes tear more and more the longer she sees her father and mother. They seem almost touchably close, and yet so vastly vastly distant. Her heart breaks softly as she sees the brittle hope in her parents' eyes turn to dismay.
Suddenly she notices Verik grouping in with her parents, he's acting strangely. He's. Looking. Straight at me...? Tentatively she raises her hand and gives a little wave. She's quite certain now, he's looking at her, seeing her. But she cannot hear a thing. He's trying to tell her something. Or asking.
Steadily, with as much presence as she can muster, she speaks and thinks aloud: "Not yet. Dear Verik. To save us all, I cannot return yet. I have to bring someone with me. I have to return with Him - he's our hope against the rising Warlord. Once foe, now friend. Have faith. I am returning when the time is right."
Unsure what's going on Berrin stands a little apart from the rest, his hands flexing as he thinks off drawing his blade. Eyeing Taisper suspiciously he glances at Verik for a heads up, seeing that he's in a fervor gesturing and mumbling wildly only causes Berrin's confusion to grow. The archbanker kneeling and the crowd growing angry Berrin tries to keep his eyes everywhere, somthing was going down, the only question would be who drew first.
'Hope you know what our doing kid.' he thinks as he steps out of Taispers line of sight to the archbanker.