The Sapphire Sage walks towards the group and welcomes them personally with a hug followed by a kiss on each cheek: ”Lord Wyllt, what a pleasure to finally meet you. Nenet spoke so highly of you and yet I believe she has barely made you justice. I trust you had a pleasant journey? Ms. Altaw’am, pleased to meet you after Madam Miri’s recommendation of your skills, although she certainly forgot to mention how graceful you are. Badhru, sir, I know you have a package for me, but that can wait for now, please, humour this old man. Unas-Ankh, my friend, how nice to see you again! And you, lovely Ms. Khonsu! You can be at ease, my dear, you are amongst friends here. Please, take a seat by our lovely messenger, recently arrived from Eto and before then all the way from the Expanses.”
After each greeting, he gestures towards a cushion on the ground. "Please, I beg of you, make yourselves comfortable! It is such a pleasure to have so esteemed and young company in my humble residence. I am so terribly sorry for summoning you on such short notice. And you came to my aid anyhow! I am not worthy, the gods are too kind to me!"
After everyone has acclimatised themselves, he begins to personally pour saffron tea to each one of his guests: "now, as you might know, I am the sole known member of an ancient Osirian order, the Jewelled Sages; all other members have not been heard of for quite a few centuries. Though it has long been my desire to look for them, I could do little as an advisor to the Ruby Prince Khemet – too many eyes, too many responsibilities, so little time." He finishes pouring the tea and sits down before continuing. "The situation has…changed now and thus not only I have the time for seeking out my colleagues, but have also found my first lead significant lead in years. Shu-kri here has brought me a letter from an information broker implying he might know the whereabouts of the Diamond Sage. Alas, I cannot go to meet him in person as I still have matters to oversee in Sothis and he is currently stationed in Eto, which has thus left me in need of your generous assistance.” He stops speaking and looks at each person around the table, lingering on each for a few long seconds. Though the silence is not exactly pleasant, no one can bring him or herself to utter a word.
As if on cue, you hear the matron’s bell ringing in the distance. The sage claps his hands in celebration and nods at Nenet. “Perfect timing! The matron might forget many things, but whenever it’s related to food, she’s impeccable. We will be joining the others once we have finished our business, effendis, but that’s no excuse for skipping molokhiya.” Nenet walks to the stove, brings the pot and places it on the ground at her side, where there are 8 small bowls. She begins to serve a green, slimy liquid inside the bowls. The bitter smell of molokhiya combines with the saffron lingering on the air to form a pungent yet pleasant perfume.
Shu-Kri absent-mindedly flips the pages of her book as she thinks about what she knows about the Jewelled Sages. She was hungry for dinner, but hungrier for information. This Sapphire Sage didn't act like her mentor back in the village. He had his own kind of wisdom, and his eyes hid his intelligence.
The others gathered with her were a motley lot to say the least. The half orc and one of the Osirani women had steel in their eyes she had to respect, if not yet trust. There was something ...different about the other Osirani woman. Something Shu-Kri couldn't yet put her finger on (or she was being paranoid again). The Osirani man seemed decent enough, and he hadn't preached to her yet, so that was a plus. And then the Avistani man, one of their "Lords." Shu-Kri tried not to be annoyed at him already.
Theshen relaxes somewhat when he realises that despite being late, he will not be regarded as such. Having visited the Sage's house on occasion, he notes that it has been a long time indeed since so many strangers filled the seats.
He does not have long to look around before the matron begins calling names. His formal name is no surprise to him. Master Amenopheus is a stickler for Osiriani tradition, usually in the best of ways.
Though Theshen does get a little longer to look at the group he has been called in with. The half-orc stands out of course, as much for his Taldan accent as his appearance. The other Taldan is ostentatious even by Osiriani standards, though well-groomed. One of the Osiriani women looks oddly familiar, as if he has seen her in passing, but where? The other Osiriani is difficult to take eyes off of, and carries herself more like a noble. He does manage to look away and enjoy glimpses of the many treasures of the past that Master Amenopheus has gathered over his long years.
The group is ushered into the presence of the Master, who starts greeting him and the others. Nenet, he is acquainted with, though he does not know her well. The other lady does not appear Osiriani, a very intense sort.
But what of the other names the Master mentioned in all those swift greetings? And what of the Jewelled Sages? The Master was one of course, but what of the others? This Diamond Sage?
Ah, molokhiya! That glorious scent! But first, introductions!
Theshen bows in the direction of Master Amenopheus.
"Effendi, I am honoured that you would call upon me for such a task. I would know more of the Diamond Sage so we know whom to seek out and exactly where."
And he turns to the others, bowing once again, though not quite as deeply.
"A thousand greetings to you all. If the good Master Amenopheus has seen fit to usher you here, you must be people of talent and good character. I am Unas-Ankh, a scion of the divine pharoahs through both Unas and Ankhnes-Pepi, and a servant of my ancestor Isis. But I am known to most as 'Theshen'. I would be glad to get to know all of you, and any of you may call upon me for healing, divine or mundane at any time without worry. It is why I was delayed in arriving here. There was an accident with a cart in the street and I was bound to assist."
The earnestness is palpable from him to any with the slightest awareness.
Ah, he fancies himself descended from the old Osirani gods ...many do, but this one might actually be right.
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Badhru accepts the older man’s embrace. "Woodrose thought most highly of you, and it was his departing wish to have this delivered to you, sir."
He’s slightly disappointed when Amenopheus declines to relieve him of his parcel. Damn thing’s been sitting on my shoulder ever since I took off from Absalom, he thinks to himself, once again feeling its weight in the satchel. S’gotten to the point where Verity herself could appear and tell me what’s in this box, and I wouldn’t be able to make myself care.
Still, Badhru keeps his disappointment to himself. With Woodrose’s death, the youth was now keeping the investigator’s agency going by himself, and successfully handling a case for a high-profile customer like this would do a lot to give clients faith in his ability to carry on without the old man.
"So take the king’s shilling and do the king’s bidding." Dhru could imagine his former mentor’s voice in his head. "Just watch yourself. The old guy’s nobody’s fool, kindly demeanor notwithstanding. I’m not saying he’s setting the lot of you up, but well, I’m not not saying that, either."
Thanks for nothing, old man, Badhru thinks, as he looks around the room, taking in his current company. A mix of men and women, of varying nationalities. The stern-looking Mwangi woman looked like she might be able to win a staring contest against the sun. He gave a slight nod as their eyes met.
As Amenopheus talked on, Badhru made mental note of things that he’d want to follow up on. Eto. Jewelled Sages. How in the Hells can this guy not know if he’s the only one of his order left? Who are these guys?
Badhru looks over at the bowls of molokhiya. No, it didn’t look to be the most appealing thing he’d ever eat, but some of what he’d had to survive on when he was living on the streets was worse. Probably.
Waiting until an appropriate point at which he can enter the conversation, the young half-orc speaks up. "Lord Amenopheus, have arrangements been made for our travel to Eto?" He then turns to the Mwangi woman. "Shu-kri, I believe it was, yes? Did this broker indicate what kind of payment he expects for this information?"
Kn(Local) One night, when Shu-kri was travelling alongside a trading caravan, she listened to the story of an Osirian man who, by accident, had found the soul of a sage from Ancient Osirion. This man inherited all the knowledge contained within the stone and then became a close adviser to the Pharaohs. Shu-kri is certain that the man in the story is Amenopheus.
Kn(History) By a stroke of luck, the book Shu-kri was reading was about the Jewelled Sages. She immediately remembers some of the more interesting lines:
Blessed be Jewelled Sages of Ancient Osirion, preservers of knowledge, saviours of culture, masters of relics as for their efforts our nation will not disappear from memory.
Blessed be their jewels, crafted with mind and hand and soul, containers of everything the sages know.
Oh, how we weep for their disappearance in the sands of time! Diamond and Sapphire, Topaz and Emerald, Lapis Lazuli and Pearl! If men were wise, they would comb the sands of the desert with their bare hands to find these everlasting troves of wisdom!
Kn(Religion) Shu-kri would have to see more to say anything for sure. The man does have eerily deep eyes that, upon closer inspection, look like obsidian, the same type of stone used for the eye of statues dedicated to the gods.
Kn(Local) Theshen has heard about a certain Miri Almoussa, a seller of silks and sweets, but has no idea what could her connection be to the Jewelled Sages and Amenopheus.
Kn(Nobility) The only thing the healer knows is that the Sages were once connected to the Pharaohs of Ancient Osirian.
As she paused in the doorway,her eyes scanning the richly appointed room, Radiya unconsciously pulled back her shoulders, lifted her head, and straightened her spine. You are a Qureshi! echoed her mother's voice spiralling around inside her head.
She walked toward the Sage, and as he said, "Ms. Altaw’am, pleased to meet you after Madam Miri’s recommendation of your skills", she rememberd.
No! I am not Hadiya any more; I am Rawiya!
She tried to shrivel a little and be less conspicuous. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes glued to the floor. Anything to keep the Sage from really looking at her.
Oh, dear Nethys! I know him! He's powerful! He can see right through this disguise! He'll tell my father!!!
Her face tightened with anxiety and her stomach knotted. As the polite social mask fell into place, she looked poised and cool, but she felt like throwing up.
"Honored to be of service. I hope to live up to her confidence in me."
As the aroma of the molokhiya reached her, she relaxed a bit, remembering the kitchen at her grandmothers' house. But then she stiffened again, and tried to move behind Badhru, placing everyone else in the group between her and the Sage. This guy is big. The Sage can't see through him!
I've got to get out of here! He's going to ruin everything. I never should have come here!! This isn't going to work!. He knows I'm a fraud.
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Waylund absently stroked Noble’s feathers as the hired palanquin and its crew carried them to the threshold of the Sapphire Sage’s domain. The racket of the market, still dimly heard in the distance, gave the estate an almost preternatural tranquility by contrast.
The footmen carefully set the litter down and the senior man politely opened the cabin while one of the junior footmen made toward the main entrance to announce Waylund.
“We have arrived, effendi. Welcome to the home of Master Amenopheus.”
The Wizard replied, “Thank you Abdikadu. And thank you for the advice too.”
Abdikadu bowed, suppressing a faint grin. The young foreigner had been eager to learn how to impress Osirion nobility and spent the entire trip asking probing questions. Nobles where not supposed to speak with the help.
Abdikadu had informed him “The lords are impressed with only two things - arrogance and opulence.”
Waylund turned, Noble perched on his falconer’s gauntlet and entered the lush garden of the Sapphire Sage. Its shade fought back the oppressive evening heat – for which Waylund was grateful. The gyrfalcon was a cold-weather bird, and the heat was not good for him.
He waited patiently, casually adjusting the silk Aiguillette of his uniform, until a servant approached from the two-storied villa at the end of the garden.
”A thousand welcomes to you, most honoured guest. Please, go in; the matron and the others await.”
Waylund’s mind drifted back to the instructions of the expensive etiquette tutors his father had hired. He mentally repeated the mantra…shoulders back, good posture, chin up, stand in the center of the room, make eye contact…smile
The sapphire sage’s servant led him to the main hall which was filled with a dozen other guests, some standing and some sitting on cushions. Waylund chose to stand in the center of the room, a hand resting behind his back - and the other held as a perch for his young Gyrfalcon. He hoped the pose he struck was sufficiently haughty.
Noble, for his part tracked the wheatears who flitted and twittered among the rafters of the Sage’s abode.
Nenet. Waylund’s heart skipped a beat when he entered the inner sanctum of Sapphire Sage. His skin flushed and He started toward her, but someone stepped between them.
”… pleasant journey?”
He looked down at the wiry Amenopheus who, respectful of the Kalistrade taboo, mimed a kiss that never actually touched the young man’s skin. Before could say anything the Sage was zipping off in a charismatic whirlwind to greet the next guest.
After a few moments, Badhru becomes acutely aware that his shadow seems to have turned into a young human girl. He turns to face her, Altaw’am, her name comes back to him, and the first thing that occurs to him is that the girl looks on the verge of hysteria.
The young half-orc puts a hand on her shoulder, gently but firm. Leaning down and into her ear, he says, "Kid, if there's somethin' wrong, we'll get it all sorted out. But I can't have you standin' in my blind spot like that, okay? Folks what do that make me nervous. C'mon," he gives a smile and motions with his head for her to join him.
Asmani is a silent member of the party, her expression revealing nothing, moving to stand wherever an opening in the group appears so that she's not too close to anyone. Her gaze constantly flits from one face to the other, her brows occasionally flickering down as she processes their words, her lips tightening and then smoothing away once more. If anything, it looks like she might simply step back out of the room at a moment's notice; instead, when greeted by the Ruby Mage, she bows her head and finally takes her cushion.
It's clear she has no intention of talking. Yet she does listen. Each exchange, each greeting, each gesture is observed.
The half-orc messenger, so alien and fascinating. The Taldan foreigner, exuding confidence that she interprets as arrogance. The slender Osirion girl, as nervous as a butterfly and looking just as ready to flit away. The dark skinned lady - from the Mwangi Expanse, perhaps? - with her book, looking as erudite and poised as an scholar. The Osirian who claims to be descended from a god, though she can't tell if she should hold that against him or not.
A motley, disparate crew. How does she fit in here? For what purpose was she summoned? Unsure, Asmani sits, observes, and waits.
Hearing the kindness in the big guy's voice, in spite of years of training, tears threaten. Rawiya nods and lets the force of his hand guide her to a spot beside him. She remains half a step to the rear, still trying to position herself out of the sight of the Sage.
Giving a quiet sniff, she tries to regain control of her demeanor and replies, "Thank you, Mr. Badhru".
"Sweet Nethys, letting strangers see my emotions!. I can do better than this. I must do better than this!"
She again corrects her posture, puts on her most winning social smile, and says to him, "How soon do you think we can leave for Eto?"
Theshen straightens himself up after delivering his greeting. He eagerly awaits answers to his queries from the Master.
He starts looking concerned when the young lady, Rawiya right?, seemingly tries to scrunch herself up behind Badhru. He feels torn about whether to say something or not, but then Badhru seems to take the matter in his stride.
Theshen resumes standing and waiting.
"Thank you, Mr. Badhru."
"Just 'Badhru'. Don't ever 'Mister' me again," Dhru pretends to snarl at the girl, but softens it with a wink at the end. He takes note as she composes herself. Something's got this girl spooked good. Whatever it is, I hope it doesn't blow up in all our faces.
Badhru looks around the room, and notes the Osirian, Theshen, looking their way. He responds with just the slightest nod and a raised eyebrow, acknowledging the man.
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Amenopheus smiles at Theshen, completely unaware of Rawiya's subterfuge. ”Be at ease, honoured Unas-Ankh. One needs to respect the correct moment for each thing, as the answers come at the time they must, not at the time we will them to do so. Your hunger for knowledge will be taken care of in due time," the sage says.
Meanwhile, Nenet hands a bowl to each person in the room. She does so with both hands, a subtle bow of her head and repeating “To your health, effendi.” She stops for a moment when she reaches Waylund, a fleeting embarrassed smile passing through her lips and a self-conscious attempt at avoiding touching his hands. Once all have been served, she says in a high-pitched voice: “May the gods will the food in your plate be ever-plentiful.”
The sage takes his bowl and raises it to his nose: ”When I was but a child, my grandmother used to tell a story about a molokhiya so strong it made her think of her hometown with such intensity she remembered the past, the present and even the future of that place. ’It was the most moment of my life, light-of-my-eyes’ she would say. I can only hope this has the same effect on you, esteemed guests,” he finishes in a rather earnest and solemn tone, followed by a ceremonial first sip.
The moment each one of the guests swallows the first mouthful of the viscous soup, they shiver as images, dialogues and smells invade their thoughts uninvited.
Rawiya feels calm for a second as sights and sounds of home flood her mind. Amidst that, she feels her mind inching towards a silent corner of her memories, the only thing she can remember that has no sound, no motif flowing in the background; just silence of a variety she did not think possible. She is not sure when this happened, but it’s a memory as clear as day. She was in this room, alone with sage, after shedding her old life. She felt the wrinkled hand of the sage on top of hers and his sapphire-blue eyes seemed about to burst into tears. ”My dear, I know not what has befallen you, but I see the pain and the revolt at the unfairness of the world. Such is the fate of most of Miri’s girls, I’m afraid. I only hope to see the day when Miri’s house of silks and sweets will not hide so much pain within its walls.” He sighed and looked at a letter lying on the table with Miri’s seal. ”I have contacted her to ask for help with a delicate issue that needs someone with social tact – and possibly martial skills, though I hope it won’t come to that, little wheatear. She asks me to inform you that this task will represent 2500GP of your debt to her.” He looked at Rawiya again. Not being able to hear the melody of the ancient sadness behind his eyes made her feel like these weren't truly her memories.
The unpleasant, slick goo running down Badhru’s throat is almost immediately forgotten as his mentor’s laugh echoes in the back of his mind. Though this is Badhru’s first time in Osirion, he finds himself remembering being in this room, alone with the sage. Though he is sure that the package is still in his hands, he remembers giving it to the old man who hurriedly opened it. In his head he sees the sage opening the chest and producing a tome with a simple, unornamented cover and a small blackened vial. Amenopheus studied both attentively and in complete silence, until he sighed loudly and shook his head with a groan. ”I am sorry for my manners, Badhru, but this chest you have brought to me carries very bad news. You see, when I understood your mentor had died and left me something in his will, I knew it was related to a subject we had investigated together a long time ago. I had hoped, foolishly, Woodrose had left me something that would lead to a breakthrough in understanding this.” He hands the vial to Badhru. ”This is naft. You are holding the remains of the last sample we managed to collect, decades old. We do not know what this is, we have no fresh samples of it, we do not know if it is a thing, a being or some type of corporeal energy. We do know that it is found mainly in the Osirian desert and that it has some relation with the sun. We think it has some sort of influence over huge groups of people – such as kingdoms or empires — but nothing seems to happen to single individuals. And that is all. This book collects your mentor's notes on the subject, and he died as clueless about it as I am now. My best hope then is one of the missing members of my order. Please, investigator Badhru, will you help me find the other jewelled sages? For a good price, of course. And the fame of having tracked down a true sage of Ancient Osirion.” Woodrose's laughter became louder He's not wrong in all that boy! But when the hell did this happen?! I'm dead for half a second and you're already going insane?'[/b]
Even Asmani’s iron will could not have prepared her for the whirlwind of images that were spinning around her. Full of fear and despair, she latches on to the first sensation that seems solid: it was the memory of being in this room, alone with the sage, though a moment ago she was certain she had never seen the place or the man. With his back turned towards Asmani, Amenopheus spoke: ”You are probably wondering why you are here, Asmani. I have been following you for some time now, applauding some of your necessary – if brutal – efforts. I have helped you once, without you knowing; I will help you a second time now, in exchange for a favour. A person in Eto has information that I seek and is willing to hand it to me for a price, but many reasons prevent me from meeting him in person. If you agree to go in my stead, you will have access to one of the best information brokers in Osirion.” He turns, his gaze more intense than she had expected. “Someone so well informed and versed in secrets he might know what happened to your family.” Asmani remembers taking a few steps back in shock at the proposal and at how much this man knew about her. Before she could do anything, the wizened man smiled. ”You can trust me, my dear. I am Amenopheus, the Sapphire Sage. You are safe here." It dawned on her that the reason she felt so ill in this place was that there seemed to be no threats anywhere nearby; that is also how she realised that whatever this memory was, it was fake.
Shu-kri enjoys the bitter taste at first, but soon after it becomes inundated with a sudden sadness. She sees herself in the guest room the sage had provided her with. A wizened voice came from behind the curtains that covered the doorway: ”My dear amaqaqa, may I come in?” Shu-kri said yes and the sage entered the room. He sat in front of the bekyar and spoke ”I have given much thought to your request for being my apprentice. You seem a skilled warrior gifted with a bright intellect and I am sure any wise man or cunning woman would struggle to find a better pupil. However, as you know, I have already taken Nenet as my protégé.” Shu-kri opened her mouth, ready to put forward a long and convincing argument, but the old man gently raises his hand. ”Don’t worry, amaqaqa, not all is lost. You did me a great favour by delivering this letter and its contents might actually suit both our needs. I am searching for the other sages of my order and, when we find them, I will make sure you will have a teacher worthy of your talents.” He scratches his right cheek. “Till then, I will make sure to give you proper guidance in your studies.”
The wizard remembers being in this room, alone with Amenopheus, perhaps just a few hours ago. He and the sage drank tea and spoke about the merits of the kalistocracy. The discussion was friendly but intense and had as a focus whether or not material wealth could be an indication of virtue. With a laugh, Amenopheus raised his hands ”I wield, I wield, effendi Wyllt! I am an old man, have mercy!” The sage looked out of the window, still somewhat giggly. ”I do understand your bet with your cousin a bit better now, however. And, as nothing pleases me more than seeing an impetuous good-hearted youth succeed, I might be able to lend you a hand. I am far from business-savvy, but I understand you need information to foresee lucrative opportunities, so you might want to speak with a certain man named Torch. Whatever it is you seek, he will know something valuable about it.” Nenet was nowhere to be seen, but her perfume lingered in the air.
Theshen smiles, feeling shivers of pleasure running down his spine at the hallowed taste of molokhiya. He closes his eyes momentarily and suddenly an unexpected memory assails him: he remembers standing in the exact same room at some undetermined point in time, garbed only with light silks that showed the feathers clinging from his forearms. He faced the sun that entered from an open window, its embrace warm and familiar, like a beloved grandmother’s hug. The Sapphire Sage gently touched Theshen’s shoulder. ”I am sorry to disturb your moment of communion with the old gods, Unas-Ankh, but I do need your attention on this matter.” Theshen turned around to see the sage had put a thick and unadorned book on the table. “Unfortunately, we still know nothing about naft. I had hoped this book would have given me some understanding of the substance, but…it doesn’t mention it even once.” The sage places his hands against his mouth, palm against palm. “My best idea now is to find the other jewelled sages. Perhaps one of them might have studied this naft before the fall of ancient osirion, or know where to lead us. Will you help me with this, child of sun and dusk?” Turning to the Theshen and seeing the garundi illuminated by sunlight, he raises an eyebrow, almost giggling. ”To think both you and this abhorrent dark oil share such a connection to the sun…perhaps you have some of it in your blood, alongside that of Isis?” Before Theshen can object, the sage shakes his head laughing. ”I jest, child. This thing is far older than the old gods.”
As each guest puts down their bowl, somewhat disoriented, the sage chuckles benevolently. "Whatever you have experienced, esteemed guests, is my gift to you, and hopefully has helped clarifying your invitation here today."
Theshen tips his head ever so slightly back at Badhru, attempting to convey well-meaning intent with the little motion.
Theshen pauses as if turned to stone for a moment. And then appears confused but not unhappy. He turns his head to face the Master and speaks:
"My thanks for the molokhiya, effendi. It was intense indeed! And I place my service at your requirement."
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A slow smile spread on Waylund’s face as he looked across the bowl into Nenet’s eyes. His nostrils flared involuntarily when she blushed and looked away from him.
He trusted implicitly that she wouldn’t offer anything that violated kalistocarcy. “Thank you Nenet” His smile deepened as her olive skin blushed even darker. “To your health, effendi.”
He politely listened as the old Sage explained molokhiya, and then raised his bowl in a salute to the host and again to the assembled guests.
He drank...
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…Waylund swayed, transfixed, and inhaled slowly and deeply as if savoring an intoxicating aroma.
Noble nipped him sharply on the chin and the young wizard came to his senses.
I am a damn gullible fool. He thought. This was the exact sort of test given to first year apprentices at the Acadamae. Distract them with a pretty girl and then see if they accept the slimy goop from the gnarled old wizard without even checking for enchantments. If he’d failed this badly as an apprentice he’d have been hung up by his ankles until all the blood ran to his head. Then the imps would have been set upon him.
He gave Amenopheus an embarrassed look as he set the molokhiya down. He was sure the Sage had just tested him, and he’d failed. Miserably.
He reached up and with one finger traced out the shape of an eye three times on his forehead. Before finishing the last trace he intones ” Kagn wer h’etha. Majak ve toma.”
His arcane eye now open, Waylund carefully studied the room, the guests, the sage and especially the black goop.
Asmani bows her head low, muttering her thanks as Nenet proffers her bowl, but does not immediately drink; her suspicion is strong, if unwarranted, and so she holds the bowl to her lips and watches without expression as the others take their sips.
A thin line appears between her brows as she watches the others partake, and then she turns her attention to the inscrutable sage himself. This is it. A moment of truth. To trust, or to set the bowl down and slip away.
For a moment everything hangs in the balance, and then, unable to explain to herself why she chooses to proceed, she sips.
The world swims, the world falls away, and when it returns she's holding the bowl so tightly that faint tremors ripple across the molokhiya. She then lets out a shuddering sigh, lowers the bowl into her lap, and when the sage glances her way she hesitates but then gives him the slightest of nods.
And that done, she smiles. A faltering smile, to be sure, as if her face is unused to the expression, but a quiet, private smile nonetheless. It lasts for but a few beats of her heart before fading away, and then she tunes back into the conversation.
As soon as Waylund finishes the incantation, his body begins to tingle: used as he was to waddle through rooms laced with spells, it was a pleasant first indicator that magic was indeed at work here, and quite a lot of it. Auras faint and strong overlapped and intertwined, making it difficult for the wizard to discern their precise origins and schools – himself, the sage's clothes, the other guests, objects on the shelves, everything is glittering to some extent. As for the soup, he is sure it is magical and its taste had an alkaline quality often seen in ingredients of memory-related concoctions. At a certain point, he meets the sage's eyes; the old man gives a knowing wink in such an unworried way it seems hard to believe he minded Waylund's conspicuous prodding.
This Sapphire Sage was indeed very different from Old Moussa back home. Moussa owned nothing so fine as even the shoes this man wears indoors. And Moussa turned away no pupil! "To want to learn is the only requirement," he had said. "I once said breathing was another requirement but a pupil once fixed my assumption."
She stung with disappointment, thinking of this rejection, but the stronger sting came from her own mind. Silly girl! One setback and I act like a schoolboy whose crush ignores him. Surely any opportunity to learn will be enriching, and I must not fall for the materialism of the north!
Shu-Kri felt herself return to the table. She had not known it was going to be that kind of party.
Don't kid yourself, boss. Anyone who was gonna work for you woulda had to be crazy goin' in, Badhru argues with himself.
Badhru sighs, and looks around. Well, we've started cases with less to work on, he lied to himself. An line from one of his favorite tavern songs flitted through his head. Workin' on mysteries without any clues... Of course, that was about something pretty far off from naft, whatever the Hells that was.
Amenopheus looks at his guests recovering from his special molokhiya, the perpetual smile slightly more mischievous now, especially when he notices Badhru surprised to see his chest was in the same place as before. ”Child of sun and dusk, you are as generous as ever! Accepting a burden unaware of what the burden might actually be! A god would give an arm and two legs for your company and the of my honoured guests. Each second that passes makes me feel less worthy of your presence! And preventing you from joining a feast, such a wicked host I am! But do not worry, I promise this will be done quickly now. Now, where were we?”
He grabs his bowl and takes a long gulp of molokhiya, shivering for a brief moment before speaking again: ”Ah, yes, Eto. As I said, there is a man there, known as the Torch, who is reputed to be one of the greatest spymasters in the Inner Sea. He is…” Amenopheus struggles to find an adequate word ”…a somewhat unsavoury person. As the old saying goes, not even his own mother would trust him, there you go! But! He claims to know the whereabouts of at least one of the other jewelled sages – I have reason to believe it is the diamond sage he speaks of, but of course I could be wrong. In any case, if you were to pay this man a visit in my stead and negotiate a fair price for the information, I would be forever in your debt. He refused to discuss what he would require to keep his end of the bargain: most likely an absurd amount of gems together with something more elaborate – he is known for eccentric bargains! My gratitude aside, just meeting this man could be well worth your time, if you are in need of information." The Sapphire Sage seems to struggle to contain his laughter. After a dramatic pause and another, final taste of the green soup, he continues: "So, my dear, honoured, trustworthy patrons, would you be so inclined as to help an ailing old man?”
Nenet clears her throat, speaking freely for the first time since you entered the room: ”Most wise master, are you not forgetting something?” Amenopheus’s eyes open wide and he says ”Oh, you’re absolutely right, my dear. Gratitude makes for a poor meal, so of course I would offer you financial compensation in the shape of 3500 gold coins in total, as well as all costs related to the journey to and accommodation in Eto. So, what do you say? Are you interested? Or shall poor Unas-Ankh and beautiful Nenet walk the glittering sands of Osirion alone? Or do you thirst for more knowledge before making your decision, as the wise matriarchs of ancient Holomog?”
As Waylund begins casting, Rawiya turns toward him.
What is that witless foreigner doing now? Has he no manners!?
As the room lights up with auras ranging from faint to overwhelming, she sighs.
At least I'm well camouflaged
Shaking her head, she turns back to the Sage.
"I'm of a mind to see new places. And the gold makes it a much more interesting trip.
"I'll be glad to accompany Unas-Ankh and Nenet on their journey, if only to speed their footsteps with song."
Asmani inclines her head and speaks softly, eyes darting from one face to the other before settling on the sage's.
"I would be honored to be of assistance, Master Amenopheus." She hesitates, as if not wishing to be rude, then presses on. "You wish for us to simply ask this 'Torch' as to the location of the diamond sage and return to you with his price?"
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Finding no use in the kaleidoscope of shifting auras Waylund taps the center of he forehead once, dismissing the spell.
The distraction gone, he continues scrutinizing the other guests and notices the urchin, who’d jumped the half-orc like a falcon in heat, glowering at him. He raised one disapproving eyebrow and held her gaze for several seconds.
He then set Noble down on the nearest chairback and unsnapped the scroll case hanging from his belt. From it he withdrew a parchment and held up the roll for the others to see.
“As it happens,” he said, addressing the room ”I’ve been planning for a similar trip to Eto, and have a few variations of provision list. Each catalogues likely prices, weights and strategies for appropriately distributing said weight among the pack animals. I humbly suggest we use this as template – adding or subtracting as our needs and our patron's budget permits.”
Waylund paused for a moment, looking a each of the sage’s guests and he unrolled the parchment “I have not yet had a chance to make contacts among local merchants or artisans – but I am on very good terms with the Purser of the Merchant Vessel Prophet’s Ascension and I have an intimate knowledge of its cargo manifest. Some of our supplies could be sourced form there…on the unlikely chance we cannot acquire them from the Sothis market. ”
He places the places the worn parchment on the center of the table, waves a hand over it and absently mutters “Teik” An invisible force flattens down it’s rolled edges.
”Thoughts?”
"Prophet's Ascension"? That sounds familiar
If they are associates of Waheeb Khouri or Tariq Bishara, she's going to be very troubled indeed.
Theshen senses some tension between the tall Taldan and the Osirian lady, but he cannot quite fathom what has transpired. And that language sounds familiar, even if he cannot place it.
No matter. There is planning to be done!
Theshen walks over towards the table and looks down at the flattened parchment. He reads over it swiftly, nods to himself, and stands up straight, addressing the room.
"I am glad that others are of a mind to assist in this endeavour, and this list of supplies covers many eventualities. It earns my humble approval. I will add that I am able to successfully implore the gods for water, to mend torn things, and to make spoiled food whole. I would still say we need to bring supplies, as to rely on one man's efforts for such an expedition would be careless indeed. This will take the work of many."
"You need not return immediately, my dear. Nenet will carry with her an amount that should cover any reasonable amount the Torch asks and, after the transaction is completed, I might still have need of you in Eto. But that is something we should discuss in the future. For now all I ask of you is to secure a fair price – no more than 10000GP – and play along with the Torch. He usually requests some sort of extra, non-financial price alongside gold and gems before agreeing to an exchange. Anything from running errands like a lowly messenger," he nods at Shu-kri, "to more eccentric and dangerous tasks. Thus my asking such a talented group of people to go in my stead."
Rawiya believes she has heard her uncle mentioning the ship in the past, but she doesn't know if she could go as far as calling them associates. By this point it is likely the Bishara have used the services of every trading vessel in Sothis at some point.
Whilst Theshen addresses the human foreigner, he cannot ignore the nervous glances the Avistani nobleman shoots at Nenet. Whatever the issue is between them, Theshen is sure there is no hostility, just a palpable awkwardness, as if neither of them were sure about how to behave towards one another.
Okay, so make contact with third party, negotiate a fair price for requested information. Be prepared for said third party to want us to dance to his tune, as well.
Badhru looks around the room at his assorted partners-to-be, then back to Amenopheus. "Well, nothin' about this sounds excessively onerous. 'Less this Torch guy turns out to really bust our humps with his 'side demands'. I'm in, " Badhru pauses a moment, not sure if he should continue, but does so anyway. "I would assume that pursuit of inquiries, um, parallel to that of the Diamond Sage will not be a covered expense, is that correct?"
At Badhru's question, Theshen looks a little confused. He stays silent, waiting for the Master to reply to the Taldan half-orc.
The sage cackles at Theshen's confusion in face of badhru's question. "Oh my! Unfortunately the treasury of an ex-advisor to the Pharaoh has its limits, effendi. But, if you find anything else that you believe might interest me, speak to Nenet as I trust her judgement completely. What would be of me without her! We old men are mummies who and the young are our canopic jars!"
”Well, it seems we have 5 out of 6…and you, brave courier? Will you face the sands of the desert alongside these fine men and women on an old man’s whim?“ The sage scratches his chin for a second, waiting on the Bekyar to make her mind. He winks to his other guests ”Perhaps the molokhiya was a tad too strong for her? No matter, take your time, my dear.”
Nenet, meanwhile, speaks to the guests in a very pragmatic and direct manner, forgetting whatever embarrassment was caused by Waylund’s presence: ”It will be an honour to travel alongside such a esteemed and diverse group. We plan on departing tomorrow, once the sun has stopped breathing fire down our necks. So, around 16:00,” she quickly adds, looking at Badhru and Waylund. She clears the table to show a map of Osirion, says a few words in Ancient Osiriani that set her own hand alight, and begins to trace the path they would take with her finger, leaving a bright cyan trail behind. ”The trip should take about 5 days. We will follow the Sphinx on our first day and replenish our water when we set camp close to its margins; on the second day we cross the Topaz Bridge and enter the Sahure Wastes – gods willing there will be no sandstorms during our trip – where water is harder to find; on the end of the third day we reach the oasis, replenish our water supply and continue west to Eto – this will probably be the easiest part of the journey. In case we take longer and our supplies run short, there are two other oases we would be able to use, but I doubt that will be the case.” She hands the map to Theshen with a bow.
”Tomorrow I will arrange a camel for each one of us plus one to carry our supplies. I will also procure enough food for the whole trip, two large tents and water for three days. Lord Wyllt, master Theshen, I am happy to arrange for any other necessities you might have for this journey. In case any of you want to accompany me in my errands, I will visit the Malhitu bazaar at the first chant of the Sarenrae priests. Though I would recommend you rested as much as possible. Especially you, esteemed foreigners. The ravages of the Sun are not to be trifled with.” She flattens and wrinkles the fabric of her kaftan for a moment, pondering what other information her future travel companions might still need.
Deep in thought, she moves her right foot to the rhythm of the music that begins to seep from below.
"So, what problems do you think we'll face when dealing with Torch? Any ideas what he might ask us to do?"
And do you know anything about this Diamond Sage that might help us find them?"
Theshen muses on Nenet's words for some moments.
"There are not smaller settlements in that region of the Sahure, correct? I can fill empty jugs by the grace of the gods, but not so quickly. And are there bandits or monsters in the region?"
"Ah, yes. My apologies." Shu-Kri was startled out of her reverie. Her cheeks got hot as the others looked at her. She had been lost in thought again, a common problem worsened whenever she got stoned. "I am honored to be part of this expedition!"
Badhru takes a moment to mentally go over his inventory. His eyes light up for a second, and turns to Nenet. "Would it be possible to procure a sling and some bullets? On my passage from Absalom, the tupitsa of a ship captain insisted that I store my crossbow in the hold, and then it got smashed in rough weather." Badhru stops himself there before he launches into a tirade.
He then turns his attention back to Amenopheus. "Sir, if I may, I have a few questions for you about the contents of my package."
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Prince Unas-Ankh has a good head on his shoulders and an admirable disposition. Waylund thought as the Osiriani commented on the need for supplies. Calvary gets the credit, but logistics wins the war.
He was considering the implications of the Princes divine magics when the Sage replied. A soft involuntary cough escaped Waylund when he heard how much money Nenet would be carrying through hostile territory.
The young wizard’s ruminations then shifted in a new direction when Badhru interjected. What a fashionable mustache. I’d bet all the coin in my pocket, what’s left of it, he’s from Absalom. Could he be a Pathfinder?
Then Nenet was explaining the particulars of the trip and he grew more serious and focused. He stroked his chin, considering.
He nodded thoughtfully when Rayliya brought up the Torch and Jewel Sages and then again when Unas-Ank brought up the question of bandits, settlements and monsters. All questions he’d been considering himself.
To Nenet he said: “I should have known you’d already taken care of the details. There is no-one I’d rather travel through the desert with.” He smiled in a way that seemed more sad than sincere. “This time we’ll have more than a rock and a few half understood cantrips.”
Nenets face took on a pained, sorrowful expression.
Waylund continued, “I do however, have a few questions. Like Miss Altaw'am I wish to know more about this spy master in Eto.“ An astute observers might note that Waylund seemed distracted during the introductions by but now seems to recall the details of the conversation, including names, with decent clarity.
“Our esteemed host described Torch as ‘Unsavory.’ Is there a specific incident that prompted this label? Are there any famous deeds for which the man is known? Is he affiliated with any government or organization?”
Waylund continues, “I am also eager to know more about the Jewel Sages. What is the history of this Order and what is its mission? Does it have any political or religious affiliations? How many members does, or did, it have - and what are the requirement for membership?”
He pauses listening to Nenet’s, or the Sages answers, and then askes “Can you also provide details about Eto? What is the history of this city? How is it governed and what is the population? What of its economy? Are there any laws or customs we should be aware of? How about guilds or other influential organizations?”
He again pauses, listening to the answers but then continues with further questions “Like Prince Unas-Ankh I’d like to know more of what we might encounter on the journey to Eto. Is there a contingency plan in case the gods do in fact will a sandstorm? What sort of flora and fauna inhabit the banks of the Sphinx, the Topaz bridge crossing and the Oasis? Can someone who has made the trip before provide a map or sketch of those three sites? Will there be wood and tinder for a fire? Will the terrain be difficult? Will there be roads, or will we be blazing a trail? Are there rumors of bandits or monster along our path? If there are no settlements – what of nomadic desert tribes?”
He stops, pondering the answers and says, “I’ve seen camels at the Korvosa zoo, are they difficult to handle? How long will we travel each day and how much time will we have for resting, meals, preparing spells and hygiene? “ Waylund pauses again, the cocks his head to one side and address Nenet, “Speaking of spells – which ones are you preparing for tomorrow? Perhaps we can synergize our spell choices.”
He nods at her reply, and then adds almost as an after thought “I’d also like to take a sample of that molokhiya please.”
So, what problems do you think we'll face when dealing with Torch?
Our esteemed host described Torch as ‘Unsavory.’ Is there a specific incident that prompted this label? Are there any famous deeds for which the man is known? Is he affiliated with any government or organization?”
”The Torch is a man as cunning as he is self-interested – and he is very self-interested. Do not expect loyalty nor fairness from him, but he will stick to the letter of his agreements. Which of course will be phrased in such a way it benefits him the most. My recommendation is that you finish any dealings with him as soon as possible. Also, be careful about sharing any unnecessary information with him: he will find a use for it; and it might be something you do not like.
”As for his exploits and connections, there many. He was once a pathfinder until he was the sole survivor of an expedition to an Osirian tomb. Ever since then, he carries a curse that makes his skin red and covered in boils, as if he were constantly burning – hence the nickname. And, despite a dislike for the Pathfinder Society, Torch does not hold permanent relations with any organisations that I know of.”
Any ideas what he might ask us to do?”
"As I said, it's hard to tell. Often they are simple, usually carry some danger but are also of relatively low importance. It is almost as if he wants one to pay part of the price with their own dignity. Expect anything from cleaning a toilet to disarming traps in a newly discovered tomb."
“And do you know anything about this Diamond Sage that might help us find them?”
“I am also eager to know more about the Jewel Sages. What is the history of this Order and what is its mission? Does it have any political or religious affiliations? How many members does, or did, it have - and what are the requirement for membership?”
“Can you also provide details about Eto? What is the history of this city? How is it governed and what is the population? What of its economy? Are there any laws or customs we should be aware of? How about guilds or other influential organizations?”
”Unfortunately nothing more recent than the last 1000 years, and it would take me a very long time indeed to summarise it. Nenet is much more efficient than me in this aspect and I'm sure she will be delighted to astound with her encyclopaedic knowledge of the Sages and of your destination once you're on your way.”
There are not smaller settlements in that region of the Sahure, correct? I can fill empty jugs by the grace of the gods, but not so quickly.
”In case we find ourselves in dire need, honoured Unas-Ankh, there are two minor settlements which we may visit without deviating from our route too much. I shall mark them on the map for you [occ]tomorrow[/ooc]. But the gods are generous and man is crafty – I do not believe we shall want for water. Our skills and the location of oases aside, master Amenopheus has provided me with emergency resources in case we need them.”
“And are there bandits or monsters in the region?"
“Will there be wood and tinder for a fire? Will the terrain be difficult? Will there be roads, or will we be blazing a trail? Are there rumors of bandits or monster along our path? If there are no settlements – what of nomadic desert tribes?”
”The desert has many dangers: crocodiles in the waters of the Sphinx, giant scorpions lurk in caves, the souls of the damned who break free from their places of rest, gnolls that seem as numerous as the grains of sand in the desert continuously sprout from Lamashtu’s Flower, behirs, dust diggers. It is possible we meet any of those, or even all of them – in which case, travelling alongside will have been a great albeit short-lived honour. But the road to Eto is a busy one and the Ruby Prince's guards patrol it often enough that bandit attacks have been diminishing as of late. As for nomadic tribes, it is always a possibility, but they prefer the areas to the southeast of Eto and do not often wander so close to Sothis.”
“Is there a contingency plan in case the gods do in fact will a sandstorm?”
She blinks for a second when Waylund asks about what to do in a sandstorm, as if she hadn’t understood the question. ”Lord Wyllt, master Badhru, clearly you have never been to the desert. Follow my lead, in case we do find ourselves facing a sandstorm. Cover your eyes, ears and nose and search for shelter, any shelter. There are also other preparations for when we set up camp, but do not fear, you are in good hands.”
“I’ve seen camels at the Korvosa zoo, are they difficult to handle? How long will we travel each day and how much time will we have for resting, meals, preparing spells and hygiene?
”It is not much different from riding one of your northern horses, Lord Wyllt. And we shall be travelling around 8 hours a day, between 06:00 and 10:00 and 16:00 and 20:00, as the sun is far too strong to be in the open desert during most of the day.”
Can someone who has made the trip before provide a map or sketch of those three sites?
”Not immediately, no. The oasis is in constant flux, with many caravans and travellers constantly passing by, whereas you might find maps of the other two in one of the Sothian libraries, but I’m afraid we won’t have the time to acquire them for you, Lord Wyllt.”
"Would it be possible to procure a sling and some bullets?
She seems to make a few quick calculations before replying: ”Yes that should be possible, master Badhru.”
"Sir, if I may, I have a few questions for you about the contents of my package.”
Amenopheus nods and says: ”But of course, effendi. I trust you’ll want some privacy, given the personal nature of this package? Let us stay behind for a couple of minutes longer before we join the feast.”
Asmani rises to move to a window, and there stands looking outside with her arms crossed, seemingly distracted. As Waylund plies their host with a barrage of questions she watches the people crossing in the street below, her gaze flicking from one to the next, examining the currents and tensions of the streets with idle interest.
There is wisdom in asking these questions, this Asmani knows; but she is seized by a curious blend of fatalism and trust, both in her destiny and in Nenet's capabilities; as such she listens to the conversation, but feels no urge to ask questions of her own. If anything, this entire affair has taken on a surreal quality; perhaps the molokhiya is still affecting, she ponders. Perhaps the quantity of coin being discussed and the rarefied society into which she'll be entering makes all of this appear more a tale to entertain young orphans than a credible turn of events.
Regardless.
When finally the last question is answered, she half turns to the group, looking over her shoulder. "I am ready to proceed."
Theshen nods along to Nenet's explanations. When she is finished, he speaks again.
"I will face any danger we face with heart. In the case of the undead, a touch filled with divine power can harm them. I cannot do it endlessly but it may make a difference. I look forward to assisting as I am able."
Let's get this camel convey on the trail, and get out of here! Can't happen too soon for my taste.
"If everyone else is comfortable with their provisioning, I'm more than ready to leave. Have dinner, get a good night's sleep, and be ready before dawn."
The Sapphire Sage strokes his chin as the questions slowly trickle down to the silence that precedes leave-taking. He gives a quick glance and nod to Nenet, who stands up, completely changing her demeanour once again, now from a serious and pragmatic attitude to a beaming smile. She opens her arms and starts walking towards the entrance of the room ”I am overjoyed to know we will be travelling together, effendis. Now, we shall celebrate this with the last-minute delicacies prepared by the matron and our cook! A thousand pleasures for each grain of sand we shall see in our journey, it is as the old gods command!” In her hand she holds the last bowl of the sage's molokhiya, which she gives to Waylung once he leaves the room. ”Lord Wyllt, your appreciation of our house’s humble foods is like raindrops falling on the desert. I am not able to adequately put in words our joy in having pleased your lordship.”
As each person in the room begins to leave, Amenopheus signals to Badhru and Theshen to stay behind. ”Master Badhru, I hope you do not oppose the presence of your future travel companion, Prince Unas-Ankh. I believe your package’s contents are of interest to our noble descendant of the old gods.”
The first moments of the meeting are filled with an uneasy sense of dejà-vu for Badhru: the sage opens the chest, produces a book and a black vial, explains his contact with Badhru’s master when they were young and the disappointment in seeing that the book – which collected Woodrose’s notes on the mysterious naft – did not contain any new information. The half-orc could not shake the feeling that the Sapphire Sage’s smile had a tint of mockery to it, even though his reactions seemed sincere.
”So, you see, honoured guests, my interest in finding the other members of my order is also motivated by how this substance continues to elude any attempt at understanding it. It does not seem to be a direct threat to Osirion, but I have lived long and the memories that were given to me by the preceding Sapphire Sages span millennia. The fact I know so little about it makes me ill at ease. Also, I would prefer you avoided mentioning this matter to the Torch; I do not wish a man like him to know I have any interest in naft.” He stops, adjusts his clothes for a second and says ”I do hope you can work together on this: Prince Unas-Ankh, who has treated someone who ingested the substance by accident, and Master Badhru, whose mentor was one of the few people in Golarion who even knows the name naft. I have been informed that some of the substance has recently appeared between Sothis and Eto and asked Nenet to slightly alter your route so you may chance upon it. If you do, try to collect a sample. Only the gods know how long I have been trying to get one.”
Nenet leads the guests to the room where the feast is taking place. It is twice as big as the sage’s studio, covered in magnificent blue carpets with details in gold and with hanging tapestries that showed diverse scenes of what seemed to be a story about the old gods of Osirion. Four knee-high tables occupy almost the whole room and are filled with stewed lamb, mashed fava beans, stuffed pigeon, large ceramic pots filled with foie gras and several other typical Osirian dishes, all accompanied by copious amounts of thick and cloudy Osirian beer. At the northern side of the room, in a small stage, katapeshi musicians play songs of their homeland and a couple of particularly inebriated persons are clumsily dancing to the mellifluous rhythms. It is a proper feast, and those who would look for the matron would see the stout woman spying inside the room every now and then, a huge satisfied grin stamped on her comely face.
When the banquet reaches its end, the guests slowly stumble to their respective residences; the honoured and esteemed guests who are to journey to Eto decide the final details of their gathering and departure.
Shu-Kri remains uncharacteristically silent, though her companions know nothing of her usual proclivity for speech. But this was to be her first true expedition, and her first unknown companions. She spends the night listening, cataloguing, and making mental notes.
Theshen nods.
"This is the substance in the vision then? Is this the first sample you have obtained? Or were there others? And what was gleaned from them?"
He bows to the Sage.
"My apologies, Master. My questions rush out like the Sphinx overflowing. I would hear answers, and I will be more than happy to work with Bathru here in this matter."
He looks between the Sage and Bathru in anticipation of reply.
After imbibing some delicacies, Theshen will make a point of walking up to the matron and bowing.
"A thousand thanks and more, matron, for this feast. We will long remember this on our travels."
”This is the only remaining sample, older than both your ages combined, Unas-Ankh. The others were used in countless rituals trying to ascertain its properties and origins – all of which failed completely, I must say. What is known is unfortunately little: we do not know if it is a thing, a being or some type of corporeal energy. We do know that it is found mainly in the Osirian desert and that it has some relation with the sun. We think it has some sort of influence over huge groups of people – such as kingdoms or empires — but nothing seems to happen to single individuals. That is, unless someone completely immerses oneself and ingests the crude oil, as you have seen, in which case the changes seem various and random until the persona seems to vanish overnight, never to be seen again. That is the full extent of my knowledge, alas.” He hands the book to Badhru and says: ”It is only right this remains with you, Master Badhru. Do you have any further questions?”
It is the second half of the afternoon when the last member of the group reaches Sothis’s Triangle Gate. Nenet awaits them, dressed all in white, wearing a long sleeveless cloak and a loose-fitting tunic that almost completely hides a chainmail shirt. She greets the newcomer with a smile and a kiss on each cheek, something that seemed more adequate for greeting guests who have come for a tea instead of the beginning of a journey, but was in any case earnest. With all the last preparations done, the group exits Sothis with the sun and the river Sphinx to their left. Slowly, the hustle and bustle of Osirion’s greatest city fades away and is replaced by farmers yelling at their animals and the chattering of caravans and travellers going their opposite ways.
Nenet uses the time to answer the questions regarding Eto and the Jewelled Sages. There is something at the same time sad and reassuring in her voice, which the slightest tint of an Osirian accent to her Taldane only intensifies.
What is the history of this Order and what is its mission? Does it have any political or religious affiliations?
”The Jewelled Sages were founded when Ancient Osirion began its long decline. They were concerned that the fall of the kingdom would mean the loss of Osiriani culture, magic and technology and so took an oath to preserve as much as they could of the most advanced and valuable knowledge of their time. The ruler of the time did not believe in the selflessness of the sages and outlawed them, forcing the scholars to hide in order to save their own lives. The order continued, however, and developed great many magics around the preservation and handling of memory. Their chief achievement, besides the protection of our culture, came in the shape of magical jewels which stored each sage’s thoughts and memories for eternity. Once one sage would pass away, their successor would take the jewel and inherit their predecessor’s knowledge. They largely disappeared from recorded history after the Keleshite invasion; the order most likely died down a century or two after that. Sage Amenopheus is the first of his kind we have heard about in the last three millennia.”
How many members does, or did, it have - and what are the requirement for membership?
”It is unclear how many sages there were and how they were initiated. We know of at least five for sure: sapphire, diamond, emerald, topaz and ruby, but they were likely many more. As for the current membership…Sage Amenopheus is vague about it. The jewels themselves seem to choose their inheritors, but how this happens is not clear.”
Do you know anything about this Diamond Sage that might help us find them?
”Not really. The Sapphire Sage’s jewel was damaged when he found it, so there are bits and pieces of his knowledge which are imperfect. He remembers the last Diamond Sage was a woman, and that she fled Keleshite persecution by going east, but that is pretty much all he remembered.”
Can you also provide details about Eto? What is the history of this city? How is it governed and what is the population? What of its economy? Are there any laws or customs we should be aware of? How about guilds or other influential organizations?
”Eto is a small city whose fortune has waxed and waned many times throughout Osirian history. Since the Ruby Prince Khemet started encouraging the exploration of Osirion by foreign adventurers Eto’s fortunes have once again risen, as it is one of best starting points for any expedition into the deep desert. About ten thousand souls call it their home, but of course you will find perhaps twice as many within its walls if you count travellers like ourselves. It is governed by Asep Ma, a fair and uncompromising man appointed by the Ruby Prince’s father, the Crocodile King. Being such a hub for relic seekers, the guards tend to be very strict in checking the possessions of newcomers.”
The sun’s reflection on the waters of the river becomes mesmerising, and more than once conversation dies down as each person’s thoughts seem to accompany the stream back to Sothis and the Inner Sea. Long-stemmed papyrus reeds are constant companions of the travelling band, adding splashes of green that complement the red, sandy colour of the fertile earth on the banks of the Sphinx. The further away they move from Sothis, the more they begin to see the white of river lotuses and feeding ibises – the later inevitably drawing the attention of the Avistani and of Theshen. Both birds and flowers disappear within the approaching dark after dusk.
After a 6 hours of travelling, the group decides to set up camp and rest for the night. Nenet patiently explains to the Avistanis that it is good they learn to always pitch their tents in a circle as such measure might save their lives if a sandstorm comes during the night or early morning. Soon afterwards, some of the adventurers begin heating some of the provisions – which today are in fact leftovers from yesterday’s feast. Whilst they wait, Rawiya begins to sing a song from Ancient Osirion, only to be interrupted by a woman screaming in Osiriani, not far away from you. ”Help! Crocodiles! They are going to eat me alive! Help! Gods! Someone!” Her words quickly degenerate into incomprehensible, hysterical shrieks.
Though just as alarmed as the others, Asmani knows the screams of desperate women far too well. There is something off about this one, but she cannot quite put her finger on what.
Radiya's song stops abruptly.
"Such pain!" she cries, as she stands and turns toward the sound.
Pulling her longbow out of her backpack, she looks around, trying to find the source of the screams
Asmani uncoils herself from where she'd sat at the edge of the firelight, lost in reverie and the Osirion's music. Rising lithely to her feet, two crooked daggers in hand, she pauses--and frowns.
"Careful," she calls out, voice pitched low yet carrying, as if she were used to warning a group at night in the depths of an alley or other quiet area of dangers. "Something's off with that cry. It's not what it seems. Give me a moment. I'll take a look."
That said, she ghosts forward into the gloom, moving slowly, doing her best to sink into the shadows and become one with the darkness.