"I can get the ship in whenever you need me to, time shouldn't be an issue as long as I get a week's notice."
The pegasus bolts out of the gate, stretching her wings out and jumping a good ten feet off the ground. She lands and looks at Gabriel expectantly.
”Got it”, Bjorkus grunts distractedly. ”Well, thanks. I’m gunna find Krokar.”
He awaited the man's reply, and with nothing else revolutionary, stood. "I do not know of your lot in all this tyranny under Targ's boot, but the less of it the better as far as the public is concerned. There are a lot of them."
With the proceedings ended, after the two had parted ways, Dalton turned to Bjorkus. "How full of it was he? If he was telling the truth, and if it doesn't seem outrageously dangerous, I'm thinking of taking a trip there."
Finding a place to sit down, the bull takes several long slow draws of whatever refreshment’s put in front of him, allowing the warmth that came with them to lighten the weight of his worries.
”How’s the fightin’ goin’? I can’t imagine there’s gunna be many holdouts after word of Acera’s death gets out. ”
"Alright... Uh... I guess your in charge right now." Gabriel says it with a smile on his face.
After a night of sound slumber, Rilka wakes refreshed. There is much to do today: meetings and decisions about the re-ordering of the city, and a personal matter to attend to first. She dresses in a new robe, finally able to discard Anafa and her behaviors. The robe is soft linen, crimson with ivory and gray bands running vertically along the sides. She wraps her hair in an unbleached white turban. Rapier and pistol, not the one that Heff gave her, on her hips and some newly made extracts are placed into her belt.
After breakfast and a cup of mint tea, she finds whichever companions are around. She informs them that her first task for the day is to apologize and offer amends to Mrs. Bergun, Yugulk’s wife; the woman she kidnapped with Fuero. She also wants to learn more about the bodyguard that she helped kill and make restitution to the man’s family.
”Honestly, I don’t know how long this will take, or even if she still lives in the same place.” The halfling shrugs, unconcerned about those details at the moment. ”I didn’t have a better opportunity before without possibly ruining our cover.”
”I don’t think he was lyin’. If he was, he’s been getting’ lessons from Heff”, the bull explains. ”But this was no gesture of good faith. Somethin’s got ‘im scared.”
At the mention of travel to Wasco, Bjorkus nods again.
”The trip shouldn’t be dangerous but it might be worth bringin’ some muscle. Malan’s a powerful man with powerful enemies. There’s no tellin’ what kinda trouble you’ll run into down there.”
"I think making amends is a good idea, Rilka. I had a couple of matters I wanted to share with you. First, I wrote this this morning, and I wanted to get your opinion on it."
The dwarf hands Rilka the sheet of parchment with the beginnings of a constitution.
"Second, I learned yesterday that bandits had been intercepting my letters home. I'm very worried about my sister. Would you be interested in a quick visit to my home in a week. I want to be ready to help Bjorkus retake his ship. I don't think I could do that with my sister in peril."
"We're basically in cleanup mode. A few whitecloaks who didn't get Raul's message, a wandering undead or two, some unruly slavers, but nothing big. Lot of 'em give up just at word of Targ and Acera's downfall." He sits back, taking a sip of his whiskey. "Ooh that's good."
Then she jumps into the air, but instead of falling back down her wings furl out and shove both of them higher and higher into the air. The city starts dropping down below them until the people look like ants. Eventually she levels out and seems to start gliding, only flapping occasionally. The sun beats down harder here but there is much more wind.
”Bandits? I hope they aren’t the halflings living in the desert. I’d be pleased to journey with you to check on your sister. Thank you for inviting me. I offered my services to Bjorkus as well.”
She peruses the document. ”Impressive for a first document. What type of system were you thinking for transferring power to the next generations? I think the first born prince becoming monarch is terrible. Even first born is a poor idea. Overall, I like the tone and flavor of the constitution. Education is important. It’s heartening to see it so prominent. Did you know building a school in Andril is a long term goal for me?”
It was startling, so much so that the tiefling's arms instinctively went around her neck to find something stable to hold onto, but once they leveled out he relaxes his hold. He stares down at the city, so small from here, and then up to the sky, which seemed much closer. "If you keep surprising me like this, it's going to be really hard to have a conversation with you while I'm slack jawed!"
Gabriel shouted the words over the wind rushing by them, his voice carrying only because of just how strong the tieflings lungs were. The words were filled with elation and excitement. Joy. It was pure and unbridled, it was lacking all of the weight that he seemed to carry these days, especially over the last few hours. It wasn't gone for good, but right now... It seemed like they had flown above it all. Gabriel leaned forward and patted the Pegasus' neck gently, hoping to convey with that touch what words could not. Gratitude, more joy, and an acceptance that she was 'damned right' the boss right now.
”That's good to hear. I’m plannin’ to take off within the next few days, my part in this thing’s done, but I’d be glad to help out wherever you can use me. I'd like to leave feelin' like I had a part in Akropash's fight”, he offers while taking a moment to let his drink work its magic in his belly. ”Heff says he’s ready to make good on his offer to help me get the Storm back.”
He nods and grunts, taking another drink. "Aye, now that things are settling down it's time to get your ship back. Heff says he plans on getting it to dock somewhere. The report I have says he has a dozen men with him, not including himself. I'll match that and supply a dozen Aestherics from my branch to support you."
”You’ve got my thanks and your boys’ll be in good hands”, he says. ”I’ll be checkin’ in with Heff when I’m ready for his ship. I’ll tell him to pass the word on to you.”
Bjorkus finishes his whiskey and considers asking for another round but between his fatigue and the strong drink warming his belly, curling up for the night starting to sound too good to resist.
”Thanks again for the drink but I’m gunna get some shuteye. Have you seen that girl I was with earlier? The strix?”
With a few asked questions, Bjorkus is pointed to the back of one of the tents the Aestherics have set up, where Sylpha is sitting in the shade with a bowl of food. She has no shirt on, but bandages wrap around her chest and her lower back to give her modesty as an Aestheric healer examines her wing stubs.
”Any word on your brother?” Bjorkus asks, this time directed at the strix.
"There is something to be said for the stability of hereditary rule. It eases crisis of authority problems. However, for Akropash, I agree with you that it would be the wrong choice. My initial thought is that the monarch name his or her successor from amongst the entire population of Akropash and train them to rule after they abdicate or die. That would be a good reminder to the population that all are equal, that the potential to lead the city could reside within any citizen."
Toramin blinks at the mention of the school.
"No, I did not know that. It's a dream I whole heartedly support. I guess for all the things we have been through for the past few weeks none of us know each other that well. That will change if we stick together when we aren't on a mission. You guys will be meeting some of my family soon enough. Speaking of which, I doubt it was the halfing bandits. My money is that it is my father. I sent the personal letters through three different means. It would take someone very skilled, very knowledgeable, and very wealthy to hit only the couriers that I used. Heff could do it, but I see no reason he would. I plan to have circumvent the bandit issue by asking our superiors to teleport us near the Trealamhgabha clan hold in the northern mountains."
Sylpha turns up at Bjorkus, a confusing mix of rage and relief and fear still on her face. "No, I imagine he is still out of the city. He's probably laying low since what happened here."
”If he’s outside the city he’s safe enough for now”, he adds to Sylpha. ”We can see about tracking him down tomorrow but I’m just about ready to head to bed. You gunna join me?”
Sylpha looks up, a brief flash of amusement glimpsing through the storm of anger and fear. "Oh you're subtle. Didn't you know? I'm nocturnal. This is the first time in weeks I have a chance to spend the night under the stars, I won't be giving that up."
The halfing nods enthusiastically as Toramin outlines his suggestions concerning the monarchy succession. ”Excellent, yes. Choose and groom the successor.”
She laughs, a brief giggle that ends with a snort and smile. ”I suspect there is plenty we will learn in time. Like the reason your father you suspect your father. Sounds like a tale for another time. I look forward to visiting the Trealamhgabha clan hold.”
"Perhaps - if I go." But Dalton's heart was already set. As Bjorkus didn't exalt any extreme danger - just precaution - it was also not an option he could easily strike from his mind logically. Yet ... "What do you plan on doing with yourself, Bjorkus? The people will love you. You could have wealth, fame, power. All with the snap of your fingers." The older man clicked his own. Surely the prospect must be exciting for him.
"This place is too hot for my liking anyway - and too dry. Though I was a servant child in my homeland, it still has many good memories, my mother, and plants growing there." Dalton was no gardener, but he did not want to eat sand for the rest of his days. "When I was a boy, one of the rare pleasures was getting to go for a swim. I could never do that here, and it's one of the bits of exercise I'm still capable of!" Reminiscing for a bit, Dalton connected the two points as a bit of an afterthought. "Perhaps if I did seek out this Malan, it wouldn't be all bad; Wasco is a narrow path across the sea, then a few days up a river. The land is a much more hospitable place, though the people might not be." It was clear the gears were turning it Dalton's head. "I'm heading back to our little house though - if it's still waiting for us. I feel like I'm going to fall over on my feet!."
On his return, Dalton pondered. There was one very pressing question to him:
He kept returning to the same conclusion: He had to be a bad person - at least in the eyes of the locals. Seimah's knowledge, confirmed by Acera's specificity, indicated his father had been of some import, yet for his mother's common status and hard lifestyle, it was not a positive prestige. Rather, it would be quite likely he was a thief or slanderer - something that would irritate the local nobility. But not my mother - so not an adulterer. His character must be intact. If he was a murderer, it would have had to be for a reason she understood and approved of - and his mother despised bloodshed. The lessons had stuck well with Dalton, for he eschewed that sort of magic. Much to the dislike of my companions, I bet.
Sighing as he approached the door, he'd at least closed the book at that thought: I will go.
Gabriel was inside, collecting a few blankets and a billow. Neither were really necessary for him but he still thought a little comfort might go a long way after such a trying day. When the door opened, he was surprised to find Dalton walking in. The mage had been a key part of their victory over Acera, so Gabe felt a little guilty when he flinched a little upon seeing him. What he had done had been terrifying to consider, stealing the body of the enemy. If it worked, it worked, Gabe had to admit. But he could still recall the feeling he had when he came to his own senses after doing it.
Still, the sight of Dalton did remind the tiefling to do something he had forgotten earlier. He walks down the steps to meet the man, reaching into a small bag on his shoulder to pull out a Tome. He handled it carefully, uncertain what it was. "Hey there Dalton." Gabriel's normally melodic voice said tiredly. The smile on his face was not as cheerful as it could be, but it was definitely a sight better then what the tiefling had been wearing earlier. "Heff asked me to give you this. Something we found in Acera's hold. I would have given it to you earlier but there were... other things on my mind."
The tiefling sighed and cast his eyes down for a moment by way of apology. Around Heff, Gabriel was uncertain and often on his toes, but Dalton was someone he trusted. Like his conversation with Krokar earlier the young man was being quite open right now and as easy to read as an open book. A thought occurred to the young paladin and he glanced up to his ally. Dalton hadn't been part of the fighting in a physical way, but he had also spent a lot of energy today. Gabe knew from experience, even if their magic was not the same, that it could be draining to feel empty. And Gabe immediately felt a little selfish that he had never considered to ask what he was about to. "How are you doing? After... everything?"
A shame about the bodyguard, she thinks.
Dalton returned Gabriel's greeting with a mild smile. "Exhausted, like the rest of us, I'm sure. You did well out there today. Don't second guess that." The wizard accepted the book and set it down on a table. "I'm much too tired to read right now. Tomorrow." He gave Gabriel a stare in the eyes. "I have seen quite a bit of death by my age, much of it unavoidable. Today, you helped prevent the suffering and deaths of hundreds - thousands - of people in this land. You deserve a celebration and a rest." Giving him a pat on the shoulder as he walked past to find a quite corner to fall asleep, he added: "Not in that order!"
Gabriel chuckles a little. "You aren't the only one who thought that. She didn't care so much about the order though." The paladin shook his head as he remembered the feeling, he had never thought it possible. It didn't even occur to him that with Bjorkus as a natural part of the group, it could be misconstrued to mean something else.
"You deserve a rest to Dalton. You did just as much as any of us fighters, if not more. Hell, you saved us all twice. First against Targ and then against Acera. You're honestly a little scary with just how strong you are." The tiefling offered Dalton a grin, an honest one, and followed the mage with his eyes. To Gabriel it seemed like a compliment, if a slightly joking one. The horned young man was used to that sort of humor thanks to Joshua, who he recalled definitely deserved a message from him too. Or maybe... He shook his head, trying to keep to the present.
"Dalton, I realize we aren't that close, but I want you to know that I respect you... And I hope we see each other again after Akropesh is settled. It was an honor to fight along side you but I think it'd be an even greater honor to call you a friend one day." The tiefling smiled and though he hadn't overtly said it, the tone of his words definitely carried a certain weight to them. It was hard to miss. It was a goodbye.
"What do you plan on doing with yourself, Bjorkus? The people will love you. You could have wealth, fame, power. All with the snap of your fingers."
Though it takes him a moment, Bjorkus eventually shakes his head.
"There was a time when that's all I woulda wanted in the world", he rumbles thoughtfully. "But not anymore. It wouldn't feel like I'd earned it. No, I think Akropash and I are just 'bout done and I'm ready see the ocean again. 'Seems the Aestherics are ready to help me take the Storm back. Heff's got a ship he's gunna give me on loan and Krokar's got men to help me crew her."
"This place is too hot for my liking anyway - and too dry. Though I was a servant child in my homeland, it still has many good memories, my mother, and plants growing there." Dalton was no gardener, but he did not want to eat sand for the rest of his days. "When I was a boy, one of the rare pleasures was getting to go for a swim. I could never do that here, and it's one of the bits of exercise I'm still capable of!" Reminiscing for a bit, Dalton connected the two points as a bit of an afterthought. "Perhaps if I did seek out this Malan, it wouldn't be all bad; Wasco is a narrow path across the sea, then a few days up a river. The land is a much more hospitable place, though the people might not be."
"You know, with all you've been sweatin' I thought you woulda lost some weight by now", the bull says with a bass chuckle. "I guess you know livin' better than the desert knows heat."
"It's a shame I don't have the Storm waitin' for me already. I could take you partway. Just be careful down there. Men like Malan doesn't get reps as killers without a other men to kill."
It was clear the gears were turning it Dalton's head. "I'm heading back to our little house though - if it's still waiting for us. I feel like I'm going to fall over on my feet!."
"Yeah, okay. I'll catch up with ya. I need to check on a girl..."
"It was not I who saved everyone twice, but everyone saving each other. Just as the person laying the final beam does not build a house alone, it was not I who banished the necromancer and her minion alone. We relied on each other." This was a point Dalton was used to making - the aristocracy loved to take credit for everything when the serfs bore the burden. "And those bizarre occurrences I invoked to change things? They could just as easily have been our deathblow. I don't even understand fully what happened, to be honest, but if that's the sort of strength you're looking to be scared of, fear not. It will come about only once in a blue moon."
"Yes, friends indeed! I'm not quite as stuffy as some of my full-blooded relatives." The wizard dawdled off to bed on that note.
Sylpha and Bjorkus head out into the desert and Bjorkus gets to experience this branch of nature like never before. The two drink from cacti, run through underground tunnels, chase strange beasts that both burrow and fly, and sit staring up at the stars. As the moon reaches its peak brilliance Sylpha slides up behind Bjorkus with a smile, leading him into one of the caves. The two world-weary people get to experience the natural world with innocent hearts for a short time. It's a calming peace.
The next morning, after waking and parting himself from the strix clutching his side, Bjorkus climbs to his hooves and enjoys a deep full body stretch. He'd needed last night, not only as a balm for his wounded spirit and pride and to let us off some steam but because he'd often done his best thinking in the weightless high of post coital bliss from a good rut. As he reflected, Bjorkus saw to his morning grooming regime.
Contrary to what many might think Bjorkus, like most minotaurs, took his appearance very seriously. Beyond breaking his fast with an early meal most mornings included a thorough brushing of his mane and beard, a cleaning of wounds to leave only the most attractive scars, and a dedicated horn polishing. Today, brushing and cleaning went quickly but when his attention drifted up to his horns he encountered something unexpected. They were bigger, significantly, in both length and girth.
He'd never had a problem with his horns, every bull admired his own set, but there was no denying that bigger was always better. They were nearly as wide as his shoulders now and sharply pointed forward like a pair of bony spears. They were downright deadly.
After collecting his things, Bjorkus wakes Sylpha. "Sorry to wake you early but we've gotta get goin' if we're gunna get your wings back."
When Gabriel finally returned he plopped down on the ground, tossing a pillow near it. The smell wasn't that bad, really. The paladin had spent nights in stables before as punishment or as part of his learning and it really wasn't anywhere near as bad as the smell an army of people can stir up. He glanced over to the Pegasus' stall. That flight had been amazing, but now that it had been over for about an hour he had been thinking. What did she want? He had asked that earlier and she had flown him. "You want to fly with me, huh? Join me?"
He asked the words hesitantly, uncertain if he was being presumptuous. No matter how much had changed it seemed the tiefling was still a little shy around new people.
Sylpha wakes groggily. "It's only morning, go back to sleep."
She jumps up with a little more energy, fire pouring into her eyes.
Bjorkus returns to the city and asks about the Abbess, but it appears she had left last night. The guard just shrugs. "Look I don't know nothin', I just know she ain't here no more. Sorry bub, I'd help ya if I could."
"Who's the next most powerful healer?" he asks the guard. "It's important."
During Dalton's rest that night, the ideas which had been percolating in his head came to fruition. While he was a diligent craftsman, his mental work didn't manifest itself as overtly. Slowly building on each other all day, the fragmented ideas organized themselves neatly during sleep. While preparing his spells the next morning - reduced as they were from Tiasar's gem - he explored some new venues.
Like the magic jar event, distance must be related in an opposite fashion to power. With a touch, nearly all of the potency can be transferred.
Putting his book away, Dalton wandered downstairs to see Toramin and Rilka. "Good morning to the both of you! We live to see another morrow."
He listened intently to their ideas for the new government but was skeptical. "Whatever you choose will be supported, but I think the desert makes for erosion of the idea. Without food, water - the basics - people will be unruly, and rightly so. This is no place to live. The more desperate they get, the less rules matter." He sighed. "But a valiant attempt is to be commended - it is the best we can do."
I hope I am wrong.
"You are right that without food and water any civilization will have grave difficulties. However, the purpose of the masked healers is to green the desert. Now, perhaps without Targ and Acera they can make further head way on that goal; particularly, with a government that is actively supporting that goal. Just because a task is difficult and its success uncertain, does not undermine the importance of the attempt. It will be essential going forward to work with them concerning the sustainability of the city.
On a less somber topic, are you interested in coming to with us where I grew up, Dalton? My sister crafts jewelry herself. Perhaps you could show her a few things."
Toramin asks with a smile.
"I don't care if she's not an Aestheric, you're doin' this for me. When I was in Targ's dungeon and his pet Kuthite was diggin' around in my head it was her and a couple others down there that kept me from givin' up. It wasn't you. It wasn't soddin' Heff. And it wasn't any other Aestherics. You owe her for this thing goin' off as well as it did as much as you owe me. Fix her, now, and give her back her wings or I walk away from all this b@~+$!+# and it'll be on your head."