Kaerl listens carefully as Raun and Daina explain their goal. She even appears to understand a little of Woki's "clarifications," as well. Her brow creases when you mention Arkhold. She calls over her shoulder to one of the men guarding the doorway.
"Abellus - isn't Arkhold the place where Ulek and Gadrus found those steel blades, the year before the templars raided the vineyard?"
The man grunts in acknowledgment and Kaerl nods.
"Two members of our cell visited the place you seek, three years ago. Some old settlement of the ancients, far to the east where the Estuary meets the Sea of Silt. Mostly buried by sand, with one of those great stone fortresses sitting on top of the hill. They found some old tablets and metal blades but not much else before night fell and they had to withdraw."
She grimaces.
"Unfortunately for you, both of those men are dead, caught up in one of Andropinus's slave culls and sacrificed to the Dragon. We have a few others in the alliance here who can manage the spell you speak of, but without first-hand knowledge of the destination you'd be committing suicide - as close as the ruins are to the silt, you'd only have to be off-target a few dozen yards to find yourself drowning in the dust. If a silt horror didn't grab you first."
Kaerl glances again at the man at the door, who shrugs. She turns to you again, looking you up and down before continuing.
"If you're set on it, there's one other who might help. He's not one of ours, but he was on the same expedition as Ulek and Gadrus. A mage, and not a defiler, but he tries to stay out of "politics," as he calls it. Calls himself the Wanderer, wrote a traveler's guide to the Tablelands a few years ago that the alliance helped spread around. He could take you to Arkhold - if you can convince him."
"As I said, he's not one for getting involved. But he might be convinced, if you can offer him something he needs, or hasn't seen before," she says.
She grimaces again, apologetically. "You'll have to find him first. He came through Balic about two weeks ago, on his way to investigate some ruin on the slopes of the Dragon's Palate, east of here. You shouldn't have a hard time finding a silt skimmer that will take you there, although you'll have to pay extra if you want the captain to risk a giant attack and take you close enough to land to disembark. And you'll pay even more if you want them to stick around to pick you up again."
Nnn'tkklik'l gladly eats heartily of the available food after the others have had their chance, putting his clutch before himself. When the hooded figures speak, he remains silent, and does his best to learn of the "Alliance" situation via context clues.
"SSSilt... Hor-rorss?"
"Hmm. If it's the only option you see possible. Is there any chance you could help fund our silt skimmer rental?"
Stepping up from the back Grit asks There is one other matter that you might advise us on. On the way here we did a favor for a templar whom I believe was named Tarthinus. In return he gave us his ring and bid us deliver it ti the Laorcian estate for some reward. Would this be safe to do? The man seemed genuinely grateful to us.
Gorkhan considers the mans words before responding. "You said the dead men found blades and tablets... Did they take them from that place, or left them behind? If the former, do you know how many were taken and where they may be?"
He shakes his head on mention of the skimmer. "Those we need to get ahead of have likely taken a skimmer and are thus would remain well ahead of us. Perhaps we can reason with this 'Wanderer' of yours."
"Yes, silt horrors," the tattooed woman says in response to Nnn'tkklik'l's question. "Big, tentacled things that live in the silt and do horrific things like eat anything that happens to wander by."
She glowers a bit when Daina asks about subsidizing the cost of a skimmer, but quickly relents. "Well, I do know a captain that's been after me for some potions ... I could probably get him to take you to the Dragon's Palate in return. He has a fast craft, with a psion to keep it afloat in the deep silt, so you should be able to reach the Palate in a day or so if you leave early."
She frowns again after Grit asks about the Laorican estate.
"Hmm, the name's not ringing any bells. Festin, do you know anything about the Laoricans?"[b]
The second man at the door seems to lose focus, his mind clearly somewhere else. After a few moments his gaze clears.
[b]"An old house, well established. Rumor has it the Tyrant is set on taking their holdings and forced the only son into the ranks of the templars - if he dies, Andropinus inherits the estate. I can see how they'd be grateful you kept him alive," the man says.
Kaerl considers Gorkhan's question for a moment, as well.
"The blades I know were given to trusted members of the local alliance, although they don't see much use in public. I'm not sure about the tablets - only one contained a few spells, the others were mostly local laws or tallies of shipments and goods."
"You should warn them then. Defiler might come after them if he finds out." Raun speaks up as the woman responds to Grit. "Should do it soon; if he got spells and swords here he not have to go to Arkhold..." she reasons.
Woki watches the woman as she talks though the halfling's eyes constantly dart over to the other two individuals with her. "This one and tall-ones go to Wanderer and Wanderer help? Hurry-rush to Wanderer." Woki motions back the way they came, obviously ready to be up out of the ground again. <<If Laorcian happy we save black-robed one, might help with getting to Wanderer.>>
Grit agrees. And the reward might be useful in convincing the Wanderer to help us.
<<It is settled then.>>
Let us go and visit the Laorcian estate before we seek this Wanderer.
Kaerl nods as you come to an agreement.
"Very well. I will talk to the tarek captain I know and arrange for him to carry you to the Dragon's Palate. Be at the north docks at sunrise," she says, before she and her guards leave through the secret entrance they used to arrive.
You climb back up the ladder into the fruit seller's warehouse. The woman behind the front counter is sorting blood oranges when you emerge.
"Tassus said to tell you that the Lord's Cellar, an inn near here, would be a good place for you to spend the night,"[/] she says. [b]"He said to tell you that guests there are not required to perform, and that Haelia, in the kitchens, can help you with anything you might need."
On request, the woman also gives you directions to the Laorican estate, a walled villa a few blocks away. As you approach the estate from a side road you see a pair of dwarven slaves arrive at the servants' door carrying a large amphora. A short man with a forked beard greets them and ushers them through before securing the door again. Around the corner, the main door to the estate lies on a busier thoroughfare.
It might be wise to show some discretion and not use the main entrance. Let us try out luck at the servant's entrance.
<<Wise>>
With Nnn's encouragement Grit will move to the side gate and cautiously knock. I might need your smooth personality Daina. he says, encouraging her to join him at the gate.
Daina strides up to join Grit, flashing her disarming smile. <<Of course. The side entrance is a good idea.>>
Gorkhan agrees. "No need to make our presence more known than it already is."
"Why we not go to front door? We not here to see servants this time." Raun asks, but has no particular opinion either way, happy to go along with the majority.
Woki points at the wall, "Climb over tall-one fence. No tall-one eyes watch and remember when not seen."
Woki's suggestion goes unheard as Grit raps on the door. It swings open on the third knock, revealing a tall half-elf woman wearing a well-tailored toga cut in a way that suggests a valued and highly-ranked servant.
"May I help you?" she asks, her eyes indicating she is considering whether to call for the guard.
She seems no less suspicious when Daina explains that the group brings word from the Laorican heir. But she ushers the companions inside, wordlessly calling over several large, but unarmed, servants to help escort the group to a nearby courtyard.
Less garish than Senator Orlantes lavish garden, the courtyard is planted with a more natural selection of palms and flowering cacti. A woman with tightly-braided silver hair sits at a small table, several books of accounts laid out before her.
A balding man with a thick white beard lies back in a leather chair nearby, grimacing as a young serving girl rubs oil into his withered right leg.
The woman looks up as you approach, one eyebrow rising quizzically.
"And who is this, Ayil? I don't believe we have any vacancies in the guard, and they look a little too ... threadbare ... to be bards of any skill."
Her voice is hard but her eyes belie her curiosity. As she sizes you up you get a sense of where the true power lies in House Laorica.
Daina almost laughs at the idea of being bards...again. "No, not performers, although I have been known to carry a tune. Rather we have been sent here with word from the Laorican heir." Daina takes out the ring they were given, holding it in such a way that only the woman can see it, her own eyebrow raising quizzically as she waits for a reaction.
"The Laorican heir, you say?" the woman says, watching Daina carefully. "And who, pray tell, would that be?"
Gorkhan suppresses a growl at the insult, remaining silent through the negotiation. Too threadbare to be bards of any skill? Welcome to the list, lady...
The mul stands in the back and tries not to look threatening. At the prompt he will say We were given a ring to present here. Perhaps that will answer your question. If he does not have the ring he prompts whoever does to produce it.
"A templar." Daina says simply. "We saved him from raiding giants on the road here."
"Ah," the woman says, accepting the silver ring that Daina hands to her. "And how am I to know you didn't steal this, or kill my son and take it? Anyone in Balic could have recognized the sigil carved on this ring and directed you here."
There's a glint in her eye and you sense the servants around you tense.
Gorkhan rolls his eyes. "You don't," he says, staring at the woman. "but Tarthinus does send his regards to Lyricus"
Also note that we chose to use the servant's entrance as we understand the "issues" associated with your son's current dangerous assignment and through you might appreciate our being discrete.
It's so fast you almost miss it, but the woman's eyes glisten and start to fill with tears at the mention of the name 'Lyricus.'
"Then we are truly in your debt," the woman says, rising and extending a hand to Daina."These are ... difficult ... times. But my son must have truly believed himself in your debt if he shared that particular message."
She seems to appraise the group again, but with a softer eye.
"You certainly look as if you have been battling giants and worse things. We have a small bathhouse here if you would like to refresh yourselves. Or we can get right to business, if you are in a hurry - I assume my son promised a reward of some kind."
The woman motions to the half-elf steward, who directs the larger laborers to return to their work. Several house servants stand ready to assist if you decide to take up the noblewoman's offer.
Woki scratches one hand through the matted jungle that is the halfling's hair, saddles close to Raun and whispers, "What bathhouse?"
The 'kreen's antennae twitch in a barely perceptible manner, and he looks around, but remains silent. The woman's feelings are lost on him.
He is probably the cleanest among them.
Daina is relieved as the subtle hostilities subside. I must remember names better. They hold much weight. "We are indebted to you for your hospitality, a bath is a rare luxury indeed for us. I for one will take up your offer, thank you."
Grit looks a little put out but then says It is indeed gracious of you to offer. I ask that you understand if we are quick in our bathing, as we have somewhat urgent business. <<Do we tell this matriarch that we need transportation across the sea of silt?>>
<<Unknown. What clutch is she in? City-clutches appear complicated, changing.>>
<<Shortly. Hospitality is important, good relations can be just as influential as money or power.>>
Woki scratches one hand through the matted jungle that is the halfling's hair, saddles close to Raun and whispers, "What bathhouse?"
"It place where master waste water by soaking in it like meat in stew." she says, stopping after a moment to peer down at the halfling as if realizing who she was talking to. "Don't think it taste very good though." she says, scratching herself. She shakes her head at the offer, fine with maintaining her routine of scrubbing herself with handfuls of sand and rocks.
Woki seems to start to understand and nods at Raun, "Oh, tenderize meat then cook. Yes, this one will try eat bathhouse even if taste bad."
The half-elf steward leads you to a tiled structure on the far end of the gardens, adjoining the main house. Carefully-fitted hide curtains are pulled aside from a pair of doors - the half-elf points the men in the group to the right and the women to the left.
Bowing to Nnn'tkklik'l, she gestures to a basket of sand, pumice stones and several jars of wax.
Inside, the bathhouse is divided into two chambers. A brass pipe protrudes from one wall, carved to resemble a dragon's mouth. A servant stands nearby, ready to pump a thin stream of water for use bathing. The floor beneath the spout is covered in sand, meant to filter the use water so it can be strained and used in the garden. Other servants wait on the other end of the tiled chamber with clean cloth, sharpened horn scissors and razors made of sharpened z'tal scales.
After your grooming, you return to the garden, where the mistress of the Laorican estate has cleared away her accounting books. The bearded man is gone.
"My husband was never one for negotiation, and has trouble sitting still for long since wounding his leg," she says, offering you wine from a pitcher one of the servants brings. "I rather enjoy, I must confess, so we have made a good pair through the years."
She leans back in her chair, favoring each of you with a tight smile.
"So, what will it be? Are you the kind that prefer your rewards in coin? Trade goods? Perhaps information? I can provide many things ... but I can guess that, whatever your desire, it doesn't include currying favor with the Dictator - if that were the case, my son could have sent you to the templarate for a reward."
She looks at you carefully again, as if putting something together.
"No, you do not seem the kind to seek aid from Andropinus and his his minions. So tell me, what can I provide to show my appreciation for my son's life?"
"Your knowledge of my type unusual for city-clutch. Thank you for this." the kreen says, regarding the pumice and wax.
He spends the entirety of the time the others bathed cleaning out chunks of old ichor, yellow-gone-black from re-sealed cracks in his exoskeleton and smoothing out overgrowths where wounds had been sealed over, the thri-kreen equivalent of scars.
"I can look knee of man." he adds, leaving the others to talk of compensation.
Raun finds the bathing process slightly disconcerting and largely avoids the stream of water, such as it is, choose as she had said to use sand and the stones provided. She somewhat hesitantly allows the servants to give her hair a trim, ending with her looking far more feminine than she ever has since she helped free herself, Grit and Nnn from the hold of the slave transport.
When talk turns to the nature of the reward she looks to Daina and the others to talk first as they usually do, but eventually rolls her shoulders in a shrug. "Need stuff to help fight. We go fight powerful defilers and horrible man-monster, anything that help protect us or harm them." she says, running her hand up and down the rough, leather wrapped haft of her hammer "Been saving coins to make hammer more powerful. You help with that?"
Gorkhan shrugs. "We do have something of a schedule to keep. Whatever you can spare, should be fine. If it's something more long term, we could always return for it. If we fail our task, it won't matter anyhow... for anyone."
Hearing Gorkhan's dire words Grit decides to take a chance.
What we need most is a way to convince a certain mage who calls himself the Wanderer to help us. We think we can find this man but I am unsure he will help us out of the goodness of his heart or even because our mission is vitally important to all the peoples of the world. Might you have something that such a man would value enough to help us? We also must fight a necromancer and defiler before our quest is complete. If you have any items of protection that could help us in that fight, even the loan of such an item would be a great reward.
Woki peers curiously around the bathhouse, obviously expecting something completely different from what is there. Watching the others, the halfling catches on, "Oooh. Like rain cleansings, not cook pot." Woki starts to the left and strips down to nothing, removing the hides and rags that make up the halfling's garments and revealing the dirty, unwashed skin and features of a female halfling before she darts under the falling stream of water. A year's worth of grime washes off Woki as she scrubs and scraps the gunk from her skin and makes an attempt at her matted rat's nest of hair. Once as clean as a halfling could care about, Woki moves over to the servants and shakes herself dry before pulling out her own bone dagger from their belongings and starts to cut the worst locks of tangled hair from her scalp.
After dressing again and rejoining the others for refreshments, Woki takes the offered wine and sniffs it before trying a sip. She watches the old woman carefully while the others talk. <<Ask for items Wanderer might miss if that one is recluse and not seen tall-one village in long time.>>