"I could tell him if you think it'll be enough to get him to believe me. The 'ones of the sea who take what they whim' sounds like pirates. 'Could be another crew's taken to scaring everyone else away from the area because they plan to move on the Aestherics."
”Ianna, your insight is like a broom sweeping the dust from my thoughts,” she says, shrugging, clearly not quite happy with her figurative language.
"I think not telling him would be to deny yourself the possibility of a powerful ally."
Heeding Ianna's advice, Bjorkus returns to Krokar's office later that evening.
"Have you had a chance to check in with Alia? I talked to Ianna 'bout the situation and she communed with her goddess. Bolka gave a warning that suggests enemies might be interceptin' the animal messengers the diving crew are usin' for their reports. She also warns that these enemies are planning a bigger attack in hopes of stealin' whatever they drag up from the depths."
Bjorkus finds audience with Krokar after only a brief wait, coming into a modest looking office where he's peering over a map of southern Andril. He gives a smile as Bjorkus comes in, offering a seat before listening quietly to Bjorkus. By the end he looks fairly concerned. "We didn't think it was a particularly high-risk mission so we didn't go very strict on security. I think this demands some immediate attention from the council. If Ianna is available we will need her as well to explain what she heard or saw." Krokar goes outside briefly to tell a couple runners to gather the council.
Bjorkus nods in understanding and leaves to find the priestess.
Having spent the day enchanting, Ianna is more than happy to share the revelation of Bolka with the council.
The council gathers together in the wake of the news from Ianna and Bjorkus. Jasper is unable to attend, Heff citing that he's busy on a mission. The rest of the party is also invited, as are the rest of the Aestherics due to the open nature of their meetings.
"I think we've waited long enough, let's get down to it. Ianna, want to explain what's going on?" Krokar lapses into silence as Ianna explains her piece, then leans forward and looks around the table. "So that's it, some unknown faction or freelance pirates have been intercepting our messages and plan an attack on our search group."
Heff rubs the stubble on his chin. "Well I think this is simple enough. Send a scout team, find the targets. Send a shock team, clear out the rabble, increase security. Set up magical communications instead of mundane ones." There's a general mumbling of agreement from the rest of the council and Heff nods. "Right, unless anybody objects I'll oversee this one since I'm the one with the pirate connections." He looks at Bjorkus. "And I think this is the time to put Drosil's theory to the test. We can have Drosil be in charge of the scout team, gather intel, then send in your group as the hammer. Any objections?"
"Sounds like something that's right up our alley. Should I call in the Storm or did you have someone else in mind for transportation? And will we be bringin' Dalton, Rilka, and Toramin?"
"Hmm. I don't see why not. Free backup and we have mutual interests. And yes I would expect the rest of the group to go with."
"How far ahead will you be scoutin' Drosil? How much of a heads up do you think you'll be able to give us? I know we don't know much about this enemy. Krokar, should go in expecting to fight in the water?"
Krokar looks briefly at Drosil who appears to be happy sitting in silence. "Probably send you in as soon as we get the intel. Until then we don't know where exactly you might be. Certainly possible to be in the water considering the situation."
"Hrm. In that case, some specialized equipment from the vault might be handy for this mission."
”Fighting in the water,” Rilka repeats Bjorkus’ words. She glances at the gun on her hip, suddenly remembering it can't be used underwater. Perhaps she should get a better rapier. ”Besides pirates, there are sharks and other large fish. Giant squid.”
”Maybe I should get a better melee weapon. Using a wand of air bubbles would allow me to fire my pistol, but the water would definitely reduce the effective range.”
When the time came to meet with the Aestherics, the others had already been present when Dalton arrived. The mage had a renewed vigor about him, his strides a bit longer and his gaze a mite firmer. With a gait of similar confidence beside him walked a man of impressive height and immaculate appearance. His azure and gold clothing was fit for a king, and only the hue of his silver hair gave any hint to his age, yet not a single wrinkle or scar could be seen upon his face. His eyes were a bright steel, boring into whomever they lay upon as a beam of hot sun. Sheathed was the man’s probable true danger though – a bejeweled bastard sword. The man’s hands lay not on the hilt, but were rather holding a small box of some sort at chest level. The pair halted.
”Ah, Bjorkus, I do come with something, though it is probably not what you were after. Councilmembers and friends,” Dalton mentioned the groups, bowing slightly to Alia (at this distance, the individual chosen was clear), and Rilka, ”I apologize for my tardiness, but my associate and I had a delay. Meet Takaral.”
The noble-looking man bowed in respect.
”My thanks, Dalton,” The man’s voice had a volume that easily filled the room, yet its stately tones did not break in timbre or pitch as he addressed those present. ”Your wizard has requested my assistance in a few matters of import which he claims to not fully understand , not least of which is the menace of Malose.” Takaral smiled. ”I’ve been known to be the bit of a menace myself, yet not to kinds like yourselves, and certainly not in the sort of way Malose threatens.”
Takaral’s gaze fell upon Toramin. The tall man marched forward. ”You must be the stalwart he mentioned. Something about grand halls and mastery of artifice in your home. I would much like to see that someday.” Benevolent and magnetic, his visage left the dwarf’s orientation as he slowly paced in an arc back to his original spot. Holding the box in one hand, Takaral continued while gesturing with the other. It was obvious the man had skill speaking.
”How can I, and why would I aid such a dangerous task? The answers are somewhat linked. I am a prisoner of time. Right now, you could say I am on parole. In my home, I am called a terrorist. My crime? Emotion. Free thought. Friendship … simply acquaintance, truly.” Takaral seemed to be playing the memories back in his mind as he stopped in front of Bjorkus. ”In my land, freedom is an illusion. I envy you who make a life on the open sea, your choices myriad as the waves before you. An odd combination, a Minotaur sea-captain, yet it looks like the saltwater hasn’t made your handshake any weaker.” He offered Bjorkus his hand in greeting.
”The compassionate priestess, the talented supervisor … Dalton gushed over your devotion until he was short of breath. And then short of another breath. He really values you.” Dalton appeared to be rather uncomfortable as Takaral continued his speech. ”Maybe he regrets not finding a mate like you in time. Perhaps he is disappointed he doesn’t emulate more of you himself. My realm is nothing like either of you though.” Takaral shook his head. ”Except perhaps in fulfilling their duties. They always do that.”
Unlike Dalton, Takaral addressed Heff upon returning to his spot. ”My understanding is your group seeks to avert much of the undesirables in the world? Just be careful not to wash away the desirables with it.” With his free hand, Takaral waved it in front of his face. No longer was the face human.
It was something …. mechanical, the voice now less organic than before.
”My form may be that of a kolyarut, but I am not as closed-minded as they. Just as Dalton tests the barriers of magic with his primal studies, so too did I with my observations of humans. Though any of you would see my interactions as peaceful, my kind saw my adaptation of their traits as a threat to the stability of the plane. I am – or was – a rather critical figure at the time, so my “grand treason” earned me a “life” sentence in an isolated prison cell.” He knocked against his stomach to cause a metal-on-metal sound. ”That’s a long time when you’re made as I am.”
Dalton seemed to have regained his composure. ”The point, Takaral.” Yes, leave my heart out for all to see and then go off on a tangent.
Takaral rotated his head slightly beyond what looked comfortable to look at Dalton. ”It’s relevant, don’t you think? With all the secrets discussed here, is it not appropriate to share some of my own?”
As his face rotated back to Heff, Takaral reassumed his human visage. ”Somehow, Dalton had a “dream” that allowed him to discover and summon me. He calls it that, but it is truly prescience; the tome that contained the information he saw is not yet written, for it is not permitted for our law clerks to scribe such sensitive data about someone with the ability to “compromise” the plane. After all, then I could be withdrawn from my prison. As I have been now. It is much better here – even on a dangerous task, I assure you.” The noble man smiled wide, his pearly teeth showcasing his ability to conceal his true self.
”Takaral can only stay here for so many days at a time before he must return. My mastery of conjuration is not as absolute as with transmutation,” Dalton interjected.
Takaral raised an eyebrow back at him. ”Then I don’t care to consider what master conjurers are capable of.“ He gazed back to Heff, the mirth in his face gone. "Regardless, I have been a prisoner of nothing but my curiosity for centuries. I would ask your permission to work with your underlings on these matters of import, for my talents may be of considerable use. As I see it from your end, my benign crimes and Dalton's absolute control over my tenure in this plane mean I have little choice but to obey if I want to taste freedom. What have you to lose?"
Pending their response, the kolyarut turned to the group. "It is rude to arrive at a party giftless my memory tells me, so Dalton has provided me with some baubles to make do." The prisoner-prince approached Rilka with the box, opening it.
It was a jewelry box, clear for all to see once opened. Inside lay a set of rather exquisite, if unusual, rings.
Dalton approached Takaral to guide the others through acquiring their "party favor". Baubles. He's clever enough to know he's being such a sot, so I guess this is his entertainment after being imprisoned for hundreds of years. "Miss Featherfeet, this ring here is for you." Dalton gently hefted the ring and waited to place it in her palm. "Erm, please do not try them on until everyone has theirs." He returned his attention to Miss Featherfeet. "If I recall correctly, halflings like some combination of elegance and whimsy with their jewelry. The semi-spiral to the setting should make you to gem of more than this group if you have time for any romance," the old man winked. "The silver is twice-tempered to hold the curve even under stress. May that emerald remind you of the gentle fields and cozy homes of your kind therein." The deep green color of the gem seemed to ripple as grass in a breeze as Dalton spoke.
They then stepped to Bjorkus. "In full disclosure, the Aestherics did help fund these. It seemed nobody could really be bothered to make them though. Had to do that myself." Though Dalton rambled on, it was clear he actually enjoyed the task of the crafting. "Had to make something more sturdy for you - twists and all that wouldn't go, I don't think. This one has a citrine. Once a while back, I had a few high-ranking naval officers commission a few pieces. With this, you'll be equipped as an admiral even when you're not at sea." The ring was wide for Bjorkus's large fingers, and the barred metal on the side was layered akin to the wood on the side of a ship. As the ring dropped into his hand, the light caught the citrine's facets, a flash similar to a lighthouse hitting the bull's eye.
Ianna was next. "You and your golden gift have saved us more times than I can count, Ianna. You probably have plenty of pieces more ornate than these at home, but please accept your gift from me as something you could wear when away." The gold holding the ring's stately garnet formed a crown of sorts when taken as a whole. Combined with a small diamond setting to the side, the ring had a regal look. "I understand the divergent curves are not common in your land, but sometimes I just can't help myself." Dalton thought back to the twisted copper bands he'd given them all. I don't see what they have against unique shapes. Gives the world a bit of wonder, I say.
"And Toramin. I figured your elemental could probably fetch you some of the best ores from underground, so I made your setting out of something a bit harder to find down there." Toramin's ring was more monochrome than the rest, but breathtaking in its own refined way. The hematite center expressed all the shades of the firmament, and the satellites created a corona of attention for the showpiece's deep reflective nexus. Knowing Toramin would figure the band's composition, Dalton confirmed out of habit only. "It's starmetal, for even though it may not be the gaudiest piece, it may be one of the most enduring. The adamantium shortage we encountered made it a bit difficult to use that," joked Dalton.
"Now we've got those pleasantries out of the way," segued Takaral, "perhaps the council - "
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed my craft, so I got carried away and made one extra." Dalton drew an amethyst ring from his pocket and walked it to Heff. "I ask if you find someone as talented as Miss Featherfeet in need of a token of respect, you consider this. It is more my father's culture with the tripartite band, but I imagine the elegance - or the gratitude - would not be lost on one receiving it." Dalton nodded in appreciation at Drosil. He seemed to understand our method of work.
"And Takaral, I would be somewhat remiss if I didn't treat you like a colleague. You've seen more years than I, weathered more crises than I, and will certainly stand firmer against whatever inevitable danger comes in the future than I. Please, take your adornment as a token of my gratitude for your help in this matter."
Somewhat surprised, the inhuman's reaction was very human. "That's ... rather unexpected. My thanks, mage." Takaral held up the ring, noticing the aquamarine matched his choice of dye as did the gold setting with his threads' trimmings.
"Fashion will not help us on the road ahead though. Besides, I am already well-outfitted for any function of posh attire." Takaral's bragging - intentional or not - was not untrue.
"Let's not sound ungrateful!" Dalton rolled his eyes. "The rings all do have some function beyond their basic appearance. First," Dalton hefted his own out of his pocket, a modified version of his copper band with a möbius twist, "know you can make any sort of arcane mark with this ring. That is a handy trick to set up clandestine communication or to mark a passage or good for later notice. But now we must try them on. At the same time. I'd like to see what happens."
Dalton wasn't often a fan of things just for show, but this was a sight he was excited to see. Along with the others, he donned his own ring to see what would happen.
Rilka has never seen a being like the one that accompanies Dalton. Tilting her head slightly she follows his dialogue with a mixture of curiosity and wonder. She appreciated the clothes he wore. Even if they are an illusion or magically enhanced for appearance, she thinks, they still display great care and attention to detail. A small thought rooted in her mind: If he’s escaped a prison cell will his people -- these kolyarut -- come to find him? Are they a danger to us?
When the ring is presented, she stares at it in her open palm for quite some time. Her fingers trace the silver band’s semi-spiral. ”Dalton, thank you so much. This is lovely. It will indeed remind me of gentle homes and cozy fields, but more importantly it will always remind me of you.”
At Dalton’s command to try the rings on as a group, she lifts the ring, holding it over her left index finger’s tip.
Bjorkus listens quietly as Dalton's companion is introduced and his story told. A lot of the details of Takaral's origins are beyond his understanding but he does catch that he's some kind of outlaw wherever he came from. The bull is visibly impressed by the strength in Takaral's grip until he hears that he's not a man at all but something unknown and... metallic?
"Welcome aboard", he offers the curious newcomer. "With the kinda threats we keep runnin' into another strong arm is appreciated but, uh, what exactly is a kolyarut? Are you some kinda demon?"
The bull takes a moment to admire the piece given to him after Takaral reveals the party's gifts and Dalton explains the story behind each one. He weighs the ring in hand enjoying its heft before joining Rilka in preparing to slip it over one of his thick digits.
"I appreciate it Dalton. It's not often someone gives me something this nice before I've taken 'em to bed a couple times", Bjorkus explains with a wink.
Takaral laughed. "As much of a demon as any of us are, I suppose. You lot would call me an outsider, for this plane is not my home. Most of my kind concern themselves with enforcing contracts. While important, the ability and disposition to fulfill those promises is often paramount in them being maintained or broken." The man paused for a moment, looking a touch wistful. "Trying to understand the latter is what had me imprisoned."
Dalton nodded his chin into his fat. "After my death, I felt a bit of debt to you all. It's not something I like to keep hanging around my neck. I'm glad you like it."
Perhaps Dalton learned something from examining The Revelation, for as soon as each person dons their ring it shimmers and changes shape, as if each is designed to stamp an image.
Rilka's changes into the siluoutte of a small, unassuming person standing in a very reserved manner. But behind them they are casting a very large and powerful-looking shadow.
Bjorkuks's changes into a pair of manacles and chains that look heavy enough to hold a dragon, but caught in the very moment of being strained and shattered by a pair of veined and muscular fists.
Ianna's changes into a what appears to be two people facing off, one looking poised and ready to kill while the other stands calmly. But the calm person is looking behind the potential killer to a faded projection of them that is curled up and clawing their own face.
Toramin's changes to what seems almost like the typical symbol of the smith, except instead of a piece of weapon or armor between the hammer and the anvil, it is the world.
Dalton's changes to an open book, the pages on the left giving a faint illumination while the pages on the right appear to absorb light.
Takara's changes to a door that is damaged and slightly ajar, and surrounded by a myriad of other doors.
"My understanding is your group seeks to avert much of the undesirables in the world? Just be careful not the wash away the desirables with it."
Heff gives a nod to the outsider. "It is ever a careful game."
As Dalton gives him the ring Heff admires it with a smile. "Ah, I will at that. Thank you Dalton."
"I would ask your permission to work with your underlings on these matters of import, for my talents may be of considerable use. As I see it from your end, my benign crimes and Dalton's absolute control over my enture in this place means I have little choice but to obey if I want to taste freedom. What have you to lose?"
The council gives Alia an expectant look, who shifts from her unmoving posture. "I will consult with Tiasar for his advice, but from what I remember of your kind there is none more likely to keep an agreement. Dalton could scance have chosen a more reliable creature to bind."
Toramin nods his thanks and puts on his ring with the others. Mostly he is surprised by the non-reaction of the council. Binding an outsider and bringing it into the council without warning had to be (or in his mind should be) a violation of security protocols. Moreover, Dalton had clearly told this outsider the nature of this hive of villains and fools.
Moreover, Dalton had clearly told this outsider the nature of this hive of villains and fools.
When Takaral makes his introduction, Ianna gives him a precise bow. This bow is the one reserved for foreign potentates.
"Hoş geldiniz, Sınırın Sınırlı Prensi."
Ianna beams at both Takaral and Dalton. She loves presents. "I will treasure it above crowns, Dalton. What is made and given in love is the most precious gift."
When Dalton speaks of debt, she gives him a look of understanding tinged with wry sadness. "It is the nature of friendship to be in each other's debt. The bonds of affection and friendship are better celebrated than weighed. You have risked your life in our defense countless times."
She reaches out her delicate hand to clasp his meaty hand. Regardless of culture, humanoids express love and connection with touch.
The balancing of debts is the end and fulfillment of a contract. Dalton fears to be alone, but he also fears what ties him together with others. Before he must have experienced debt as servitude rather than what can unite him with others.
Appreciating the heartfelt responses greatly, Dalton considered his past a moment. That's even better than closing a large deal with a caravan. It's good to finally have friends! He's had a few here and there throughout his life, but a stable circle had never accompanied him. With a pang of regret, he though about what could have been during those years while the council made their decision.
Turning to Alia, Dalton nodded deeply. "I had hoped that would be realized, for, being precise, Takaral is not truly bound to serve me; the calling is temporary, yet does not contain other direct dependencies. He was free to do as he wished, and that was the choice he made after the options were presented. Given his situation and background, once he'd made the agreement, I felt it secure to relay to him some necessary details of the accord's context."
"Well, if you've never been on the sea you've chosen a good time to join us", Bjorkus says after admiring his ring's transformation. "It's sounds like that's where we're headed next."
Rilka’s wonder increases as the ring changes shape slightly. ”What a gift,” she murmurs.
The halfling offers to shake Takaral’s hand next. ”Well met,” she says with a grin. ”Feel free to call me Rilka. Or Miss Featherfeet like Dalton does. Do you know how to swim?”
In two weeks time, halfway through their rest, the party is called in by Heff. He meets them near the entrance of the Aestheric base. "We have a location. A small port off of Maunie. Judging by how our birds are unharmed there must be at least one spellcaster with them, possibly a druid. They have a ship and about twenty people. Their leader is Crajun Hoarfiz, an old and respected pirate who is under Aftner Seablood. To avoid undue political strife with the Pirate Lords we need to keep Crajun alive, but his crew is fair game if things turn bloody. You'll be departing tomorrow on Bjorkus' ship, which we expect to be arriving tomorrow night at Pine Lake, and Liamsho will teleport you there. Any questions?"
"Do we know anything 'bout why Crajun is attacking the site? Is it really just for the booty or is someone puttin' him up to it?"
Bjorkus snorts as he considers the task. "If the Aestheric team there hasn't dealt with 'em yet, we should go in expectin' Crajun's crew to be as experienced as he is and well-armed."
"We're not sure. Our spies didn't go down to question the why."