Daina breathes out slowly. Thank the gods he returned the favor. <<Loot the giants and let's keep moving.>>
Grit prowls around the dead giants marveling at their size and strength. I wonder if there is a huge size creature that I can become. he ponders aha the knows about the animals of the world.
Grit prowls around the dead giants marveling at their size and strength. I wonder if there is a huge size creature that I can become. he ponders aha the knows about the animals of the world.
Hands colored a deep carmine, Woki stands up from cutting at the giant's chest in disgust, "Very big tall-one too much bone. Take whole tribe to cut up meal." The halfling licks the drying blood from fingers while joining the others. <<Was looking forward to eating blood organ of such mighty foe. One can gain much strength from such.>>
Gorkhan glances over at the frustrated and ever-hungry Woki. "They say a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I expect the same could be said for giants. No bones to get in the way at least," he says dryly to the halfling.
Grit helps loot the Giants, casting Detect Magic while in cat form so as to hide the spell from the templars.
Once away from the Templars Grit shifts back into his Mul form and walks for a while with the group. He has but a single shift available to him today. I need to shift into larger predators to fight such battles when the terrain favors it. The Tigone form is a powerful fighter, but I suffered from drawing attacks when I closed. Larger forms could reach most foes and not provoke from them while closing. he seems to be telling himself this and not speaking to any specific party member.
A quick search of the giants turns up nothing of interest. They were raiders, carrying only weapons and empty sacks they obviously had hoped to fill with spoils from the soldiers' outpost.
Deciding to waste no more of the night, you travel on to the east, putting several miles between you and the battlefield before dawn. You make camp a quarter mile from the road as the sun rises.
Although the haze from the silt has made it difficult to see the stars, you think Balic is only a few more hours travel. Hoping to reach the gates before nightfall, you rest until the early afternoon then set out at a brisk pace.
The light allows you to see considerably more of the surrounding countryside than has been possible previous nights. Sprawling estates and olive orchards stretch out on either side of the Road of Legions, their boundaries marked by stone walls that block the silt blowing off the estuary but likely do little to stop giants - although the tower-mounted ballistas you see seem an effective deterrent.
The sun is beginning to fall in the west as your round a low hill and catch site of the city, its ivory structures seeming to glow in the fading light. A long rise running into the estuary seems to shield the city from the worst of the silt, and you can make out docks extending, spider-like, into the dust, each lined with sailed vessels of various sizes and shapes.
A line of other travelers waits by the gates, eager to pass inside before darkness falls.
Daina stows away all of her magical gear inside her haversack, then dirties up her face and ruffles her clothing a bit. "Shall we?"
<<Champion agrees. Made me big to fight on same term.>> Raun responds to Grit as she makes an attempt to aid Woki's efforts to secure the giant's heart, the black stone of her hand-axe soon glistening with the creature's blood as she hacks into it's flesh.
Even if her efforts to crack the creature's ribcage fail she still hands over a hefty slab of meet to the little shaman before they move on, leaving the rest for the Templar to take care of.
She peers at the city in the next evening's failing light, and around at the others, shrugging at Daina's question, falling quietly into line.
The 'kreen follows the rest of the group.
<<magic items problem? my items mind-powered, problem?>>
Walking with the group Grit offers I am going in over the wall as a lizard. I can carry any times with me that you might be concerned about.
Woki grins with a mouthful of filed teeth, "This one trophies have spirits touch. Dare black-cloaked tall-ones to touch and get spirits ire."
Collecting a number of the group's more suspicious-looking items, Grit shifts into the form of a small lizard and slips over the high wall near Balic's west gate.
The rest of you guide your kanks into the line of travelers jostling to get in before the gates close for the day. The line moves quickly - eager to finish their shifts, the soldiers and templars manning the portal usher travelers through with only cursory inspections.
Orryn's pale skin draws a few curious looks, as do the skulls and fetishes adorning Woki. But the templars let you pass with a warning against hunting anything on two legs. The massive doors swing shut behind you, a pair of half-giants lifting thick agafari bars into place to secure them.
The travelers ahead of you split off into several directions. The poorest head northeast, into the poorer districts en route to the docks, as do some of the dune traders. The more affluent head east, where the setting sun reflects off the fortified marble palace of Andropinis and the merchant emporiums that surround its base.
Slaves move along the streets as you ponder your next move, lighting oil lamps mounted at regular intervals on the whitewashed walls.
Grit, in lizard from skurry up an awning pole to rest in the fading sun and watch his friends decide where they might go next.
Nnn'tkklik'l stands, eyes and antennae taking in the sights.
<<Another walled hive.>> he projects, somewhat interested and anxious.
Woki agrees with Nnn as the halfling looks around Balic, <<Dry, barren, and another ancient tall-one scaring spirits away. Winds blow weak here.>> A look of discomfort passes across Woki's face at the stifling stagnation of so many bodies crammed into Balic's walls. Only the second large city that Woki has visited, the halfling is completely lost as to where they should go. <<Laorican. Orlantes. Two tall-one names that mean little to this one. Where we find?>>
Well that was relatively easy. If only all guards were so lax. I suppose there would be other kinds of trouble than though. Daina palms her necklace and starts walking into town. <<We should get to the Orlantes estate as soon as we can.>> She starts heading in that direction, or if she can't find it, asks for directions.
<<Agreed Orlantes and the Veiled Alliance first. Laorican could be later... perhaps after finding out more about them.>>
Woki starts looking for any fellow halflings that might be living in Balic, however unlikely, as they ask around for the Orlantes estate. If Woki does find another halfling, a series of sing-song halflingese will follow asking for the lay of the land.
Raun tucks the token she had been given signifying her position as a freed slave back into her pocket as she peers over the heads of the others. She shrugs at Nnn and Woki's feelings of discomfort. She was used to cities but she certainly had no great love of them.
"Finding friends more important than money." she agrees with Gorkhan's suggestion.
<<Yes, must get ahead of Payne>>
Daina heads off after the better-dressed travelers but soon realizes she has little idea how to find the Orlantes estate on her own. Beggars seem to be fewer on the streets in Balic than in Tyr, at least at this hour, but Daina eventually is able to find one and - with the help of a few coins - obtain clear directions to the villa owned by Senator Orlantes.
You pass a line of public houses along the way, the smell of grilled meat and vegetables making your mouths water after so many days on the road. But with the sun fully down the streets appear to be clearing -- you suspect a curfew may be nearing and decide against stopping.
You enter a district of white-washed walls, all uniformly 10 feet high and topped with ornate tile mosaics. The boy who gave Daina directions also described the Orlantes crest and you find it easily enough. Opting for the servants entrance, you knock softly and wait.
Moments pass before a grate at eye level slides open. The face behind is stern and appraising, gray eyes looking you up and down.
"I'd ask what you wanted, but there could be only so many groups comprised of such a motley crew. Our mutual friend sent word. I've prepared space for you in the servants' quarters."
The grate slides shut before the door swings open, leading into a courtyard filled with carefully-cultivated plants. A tall, bearded man in a white robe stands waiting, beckoning you in.
"Come, I'll see if the cooks still have something hot," he says. "I'll send word for another contact who can take you to meet ... our friends ... in the morning."
You follow the man into the courtyard and turn a corner toward the kitchens when a portly man in an embroidered robe stumbles into the garden, a massive copper goblet sloshing wine on the flagstones.
"Tassus, who is this," the man says, his words slurred. []b"It's too late for deliveries ... and what a strange collection. Are they some new troupe of performers?"[/b]
The steward, Tassus, looks startled, but quickly recovers.
"Er, yes my lord. Traveling bards. I promised them something to eat and a place to rest in return for a performance later. Perhaps in your solar tomorrow?"
The fat man stumbles, nearly falling face-first into a flowered cactus.
"Nonsense. I would watch them tonight! Come, let us all make way to the main hall."
The man turns, sloshing wine again, before stumbling back toward the villa.
Daina almost cries at the loss of being able to eat good, fresh food. But more pressing matters are at hand so she swallows her spit and pushes onward, wiping a tear from her eye.
At the words of the tall bearded man Daina's mouth sets to watering again. "Yes! Uh, yes, that would be very highly appreciated." She follows him gladly, happy to have a friendly face in the walls. Still she keeps her guard up, casually observing every person she passes.
She holds her peace until through some farce they are pressured to be performers. She hates for the lie to persist, but she would hate more the idea of betraying the person who let them in. As the man stumbles off Daina bites her lip. <<I'm a decent singer, but I'm hardly much compared to a trained bard.>>
"I no bard." the kreen says to the servant, after the master has left.
So we're involved with a clandestine network of servants... Unseen yet without power. Wonderful... Gorkhan rubs the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "You're lucky I might be able to put something together..." he says to Tassus.
<<You won't need to be a decent singer. A passable one will do. The man is drunk. In any case, I can perform feats of acrobatics and a little juggling. Grit could probably show off some animal training with his tigone... stick his head in it's mouth or whatever. If you don't have any appropriate skill, you could always be relegated to an assistant that helps to set things up.>>
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Woki watches the fat tall-one with his big cup of wine and can't help but think that he is already marinating himself pre-cooking. The halfling flicks tongue across pointy teeth before being brought out of contemplation by the others' talk of entertainment.
<<This one has excellent singing voice. All other tribe agree that this one sings so good that this one should only sing on special occasions.>>
Lizard-Grit maintains his tiny form and scurries after the group. He manages to catch a ride on Raun's show for part of the trip, but, not wanting to be stepped on make his own way most of the distance. At the gate of the estate he lets the group know <<I shall stay in this form until I am more confident that there is no trap or ambush awaiting up. My tigone will continue to guard Daina. >>
Seeing the well kept plants in the courtyard Grit marvels and wonders if this is druid's work.
Scurrying into the branches of a scuppernong tree, lizard-Grit takes cover behind the blue leaves and sets up watch. Examining the tree and others nearby, he sees that they have been tended by someone with limited skill and an abundance of water. The druid thinks he could have them looking even better with a third of the liquid.
The others follow Tassus and the senator into a tiled reception hall lined with braziers and couches full of overstuffed pillows. Half a dozen servants - all slaves, judging from their collars - stand at attention, along with a pair of courtesans dressed in the gauzy scraps of what could generously be called robes.
The fat senator stumbles into the room drops clumsily onto the couch between the scantily-glad women. Raising his goblet, he summons one of the servants, who fills the vessel to the brim with more rich red wine.
"Aha, yes!," he mutters happily, slurping up as much wine as he spills. "Now, how will you amuse me? What are your talents? You, the hairy small one - what do you do? And the big one - what is your skill? Come, don't stand there like a bunch of mummers. I would be entertained!"
Tassus looks pained, but gestures quickly as if to indicate "hurry up." As you watch, the servant fills the senator's goblet again. The courtesans to either side appear to be encouraging him to drink - you likely are not the only ones hoping the man will pass out soon.
Woki rattles the bone-laden spear and chants in sing-song Halfling before coughing a few times to clear the windpipes.
The halfling begins to sing again in Halfling. The song is a jovial ditty about the different styles and preparations Woki's tribe uses to cook up a tall-one for the main course, that is if any one is able to understand the language. To the uncultured ear, it sounds like a combination of the sounds that kanks would make if being ripped apart leg by leg and that Woki is gargling with a mouthful of jagged stones.
Nnn'tkklik'l pantomimes calling a lizard down, and has it jump along things. He will look for rings for it to jump through, or will make some with his claws.
Gorkhan sighs softly but offers an obsequious smile as he speaks to the fat senator. "You must understand, m'lord, that we have been travelling and normally, rest and prepare before a performance. You will not be seeing us at our best. Still, I do hope we can entertain in some fashion."
The bard then moves to begin his performance, combining feats of acrobatics while juggling at the same time.
Grit's lizard form is coaxed down from the scuppernong tree and onto the a convenient table. Grit plays shy at first and goes through a number of teasing retreats. Finally the lizard jumps and cavorts on command for the senator but stops short of anything that might imply that Grit is more than small reptile. At the high point of his show Grit attempts to steal a sip of the senator's wine. His climb speed should be helpful for the stunt.
Daina sings a merry tune that incorporates all of the people present, jabbing fun at them one way or the other. She adds some silly nonsense words and also some tricks to bamboozle those present.
The fat senator at first seems startled as Woki begins his performance, then simply annoyed. He waves a hand dismissively as Woki reaches the first chorus of his ode to cannibal cuisine.
"I'm not sure what the furry one is doing, but it should be silent now," he says, using a silk pillow to dab clumsily at his wine-soaked robe. "You may proceed with the next performance."
He is far more impressed with the dancing lizard, and claps with delight as Gorkhan tumbles around the room juggling empty crystal wine decanters.
"Oh, you should juggle the lizard! I want to see it dance mid-air," the fat man roars, nearly choking with laughter as Gorkhan snatches the surprised lizard-Grit and sends him soaring through the air in an arc with the crystal vessels.
The senator is still wheezing when Daina performs her own song, which leaves him in breathless fits.
"Wonderful, wonderful, my friends. Most impressive. Tassus, see that they are fed and shown to an empty room in the servants quarters. Now, my lovelies, let us to bed," the senator says, taking the pair of bored-looking courtesans and stumbling toward his own quarters.
Tassus rewards your troupe's impromptu talent show with a stopover in the kitchens, where he fills a basket with bread, leftover roast z'tal and neep cakes before showing your to your rooms. The guest chambers are spartan but clean, and the rag-stuffed mattresses on the wooden cots are more sumptuous than anything you've seen in a month.
The robed steward returns early the next morning, bringing with him another basket filled with boiled erdlu eggs and fresh flatbread.
"I expect my master will sleep late today, after last night's excesses, but I thought it best to leave before he rises. Gather your things and I will take you to a place where you can wait for your contacts," he says, before leading the way out of the Orlantes compound into Balic's streets.
You don't go far - after a few blocks, Tassus leads you into an immaculate storefront where bins of perfect fruits are being picked over by trusted servants from the surrounding estates. Tassus moves deliberately toward the rear of the building, nodding at the young woman making change behind the counter.
Sacks and baskets of fruit waiting inspection or deemed unworthy of the nobility fill the warehouse in the rear. Maneuvering to the back, Tassus looks around carefully before gesturing to Raun, directing the half-giant to move aside a heavy stack of crates that, upon further inspection, appear to be nailed together. The stack slides away easily, revealing a wide shaft and a wooden ladder leading down.
"The passage below leads to a chamber where your next contacts will find you," he says, before bowing. "I appreciate your ... playing along last night. May you find what you seek."
Climbing down into the underground passage, you follow it a few dozen paces before it opens up into a wide, tiled chamber decorated with a large table and several comfortable chairs. Torches are mounted on the walls, waiting to be lit.
About an hour passes, when you hear a clicking sound echoing from the far wall. A tile-covered panel disengages and three hooded figures step through. Two take up positions near the concealed door while the third approaches the table, pushing back her hood to reveal short-cut gray hair and a face decorated with elaborate slave tattoos.
"You may call me Kaerl. Our mutual friends in Tyr have asked that we extend to you whatever help we can, although they did not say what might be needed," she says, waiting expectantly for you to speak.
Raun silently rejoins the others as they file out from their 'performing'. The half-giant has activated her amulet and faded from sight as soon as she saw the fat noble. The idea of performing for someone's amusement brought back too many bad memories of 'demonstrations' where Kjarros forced her to cavort in front of Tachyk. She had no wish to demean herself for another noble's pleasure...
She happily crashes on one of the mattresses after filling her belly, quickly falling to sleep after the tiring afternoon of battle with her full-blooded kin.
She follows the servant the next morning and diligently hauls the crates out of the way. She sneers at mention of the previous night and leads the way down the shaft, uncovering the magical stone on her belt to light the way.
When the hooded figures arrive Raun tenses, gripping her happy, ready to bring it to bear if needed but letting it hang at her side. She glances at the others as Kaerl speaks. "Need to get to Arkhold very fast. Beat wicked defiler there..."
Grit changes to his mil form once the group is left alone and breaks his fast with the others. He is then able to hand our the objects he had smuggled into the city. insects were beginning to look good. he notes as he eats a large boiled egg with some enjoyment.
He and his tigone take a watch during the night but he sleeps soundly while off watch and the tigone curls up next to Daina to sleep next to his charge.
The following morning Grit debates the merits of re-taking his lizard form with the group. He listens o their council but prefers to stay in Mul form hoping that if the master notes his presence he will not recall that Mul was not their yesterday. Regardless of form, Grit prepares for the day by casting Frostbite on himself and the tigone.
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When the hooded figures arrive Raun tenses, gripping her happy, ready to bring it to bear if needed but letting it hang at her side. She glances at the others as Kaerl speaks.
Daina gives Kaerl a warm smile. "We are glad to have allies here. I'll get right to it. We're in a race to prevent a great evil from being released, and we were hoping to gain access to somebody who could teleport us to our destination."
Woki enjoys the roast z'tal, even if it is leftovers, and finds an open spot next to Raun, the closest thing to a towering tree from the Forest Ridge, to curl into a ball and fall asleep. Lon settles on the closest perch outside the building and mimics its master.
The following morning, Woki sniffs several baskets of fruit as they pass through the warehouse, recognizing a few, before they reach their destination. With a shake of the head and a grumble, the halfling follows into the depths, "Why tall-ones like holes in ground? Dark, small, no feel wind." Woki settles uncomfortably in for a wait in the chamber at the end of the path.
When the three figures suddenly crawl out of another passage, hidden from view, into the chamber, the halfling is immediately on guard. At the question then Daina and Raun's answer, Woki reiterates and motions to the east, "Deadhearts go to awaken old evil. This one and tall-ones run fast to catch deadhearts. Deadhearts faster. Face hiding tall-ones from other tall-one village think in this one's head that face hiding tall-ones in this tall-one village have big magic to help this one and tall-ones be faster than deadhearts."