”It isn’t right.” Obella Kamos said, gripping the small stone in her hand, weighing it. The halfing’s usually bright face was dark with a heavy frown, staring at the fancy carriage rattling past. Her brown eyes seemed to smolder as she glared at the crest emblazoned on the side, the red and gold of House Iuncus.
It was a blazing hot day in Sothis, extreme even for this desert city. The sun was at high noon, a punishing disc of hot white light. There were new shadows, few places to avoid the blinding light. Rayka Parekh knew, from her youth, that once this street was lined with palm trees for just such a day.
This used to be the Oldstone district, an area of rich craftsmen and lesser nobles, the houses edged by canals and facing broad, well-kept streets. That had been before the Awakening, before Sothis had been ravaged by the Spawn of Rovagug. Shalina the Stalwart had stopped that apocalypse, not before the city had been ruined. The trees were long gone now, and many of the houses empty. The canals still ran, but only because the Chelish used them.
Much of the city was still blocks of empty houses, empty windows like eyes looking out into deserted streets. Many had not come back or had been killed in the chaos, and only now, five years later, were children beginning to fill the streets. The city, now over-large, was in a state of disrepair, lacking the funds to keep the desert at bay. While not a danger in Oldstone, Rayka had seen entire houses swallowed by approaching dunes.
No, not a problem here, because Oldstone was were many of the new Chelish lords lived and it would not do for these men and women to be troubled by mere geography. They had come to plunder Osirion, but any connection past servant and master was more then they. Most of them lived in plush manor homes, surrounded by lavish garden while men and women starved in the streets.
Sothis was a city were fountains were guarded by armed men and it was a capital crime to steal a grape from a Chelish vineyard. While official a new Pharaoh ruled from his palace on the edge of the city, everyone knew the child was a figurehead, and the real power flowed from the Chelish nobles. It was they were paid the troops, guarded the markets, cleaned the canals, and even repaired the docks. Most had welcomed this aid, in the dark days after the Awakening. But since then, their hand had grown heavier. Chelish troops ‘requisitioned’ food and supplies, never paying, churches to foul new faiths were erected, and worst of all, Chelish plunderers were aboard in every corner of the kingdom, tearing open old tombs and looting gravesites. Wagonloads of such ill-gotten gains flowed into the city, straight into the coffers of the Chelish families who had descended here, like fat, over-fed vultures.
Even this street showed the signs of Chelish rule. It was kept wide and clear, allowing their richly appointment carriages to roll unimpeded. The sidewalks were still rubbled ruined however, never repaired. Signs were plastered everywhere, either promoting diabolic gods or threatening horrible punishment to 'trouble-makers'. Armed guards patrolled, keeping this quarter safe from vagrants and vagabonds. It was a risk to even come this far into the district for Obella and Rayka but it had been worth it to view the gardens in front of the noble houses that dotted the area.
”It isn’t right.” her friend repeated, holding the stone as if to throw it at the carriage. ”Them living like that while we scrape by in the streets, afraid in our own city.”
Rayka sat beside Obella with the same resentment building in the pit of her stomach as she watches the carriage drive by. But she had learned years ago to channel her feelings internally or maybe she was just repressing them or maybe she was dead inside, somedays it was hard to tell which it was. She runs the edge of the scarf she wears as a belt absently through her fingers as she listens.
"Of course it ain't right. It hasn't been right for quite some time now." Rayka places her hand over top of her friend's holding the stone. "But doin' somethin' rash in this here part of town ain't smart neither. We came to enjoy the gardens, not to fix things. It's not like we're Shalina the Stalwart or Tekk the Holy or Ankraten..." Rayka's voice got a dreamy-like quality as she said the handsome monk's name. "I bet he'd be able to set things right. At least someone should. Serve 'em right if someone were to swoop in and take all their money, make 'em afraid for once instead of us."
Despite her obvious anger, at the mention of Ankraten's name Obella shakes her head, "If I have to hear you go on about that monk again...I mean, a monk!" she playfully pushes the much larger woman, and drops the stone back to the street.
Voice growing serious again she says, 'Yeah, wouldn't that be something, someone taking their stuff. I hear all kinds of rumors about what is piled up in some of those houses. Entire Pharaoh's tombs, if the stories are true." she kicks at the dust, 'But what gang would go after something like that when it is easier going after shopkeeps or craftsmen? It isn't like the Chelish troops care about that, but I think they'd mind if someone smashed up a manor home."
Rayka resists the urge to take out her sketch book and show the pictures of Akraten to Obella yet again because obviously she still didn't understand true perfection. Instead she gives her friend a questioning look, "Who's been tellin' you stories?"
She thought about what Obella said a little more before saying hesitantly, "It's not like a manor needs to be smashed or nothin'. If someone could be sneakin' in and out with stuff, it may be a bit before they notice. And if the people are real careful then maybe it can't be traced back to them. Or better yet, maybe they could make it look like one of the gangs did it." Kenneth's face flashed through Rayka's mind and she let herself enjoy the brief thought of Chelish troops arresting him. "But that's all just wishful thinkin'."
"Oh you know, everyone talks. You can't miss the wagons full of stuff, can you? And besides, old Hamella the Baker said she saw Chelish troops looting one of the old noble houses. One of the ruined ones. Taking everything, putting it in crates and carrying it off."
At Rayka's words Obella frowns, "Have you been thinking about this or something? You seem to have ideas..." The halfling's eyes fill with thoughts and Rayka knows this is dangerous, "A quiet job, eh?"
"Well, it's not like I've been plannin' anythin' specific but I don't want to be livin' on the streets forever...so sometimes I think about things. But it never went any further than that. I'm always so busy tryin' to survive and keep out of everyone's way that I'd never know where to start."
She saw the wheels starting to turn inside Obella's head with a mixture of hope and dread. "Of course it'd have to be somethin' quiet but hearin' stories isn't the same as knowin' specifics." She laughed nervously, "We're just daydreamin' here, right?"
'Of course, of course." Obella says, distractedly. The halfling gazes, unseeing up and down the street, lost in thought. Then, she points, "Look the guards are leaving."
The small clump of Chelish guards that oversaw the carriage are drifting away, probably looking for a drink and some cooler shade.
'Shall we stroll among the gardens?" Obella says, with a mock curtsy as if she was some highborn lady.
Rayka looks warily at her friend before she nods, "That's why we came, ain't it? They're about the only pretty place left in Sothis."
'I hear the Iuncus home has particularity nice gardens." she replies innocently, sweeping some dust off of a sleeve. 'Shall we go and see if the rumors and stories are true?"
Rayka doesn't know whether to smile or groan. But she trusts her friend and follows. "You know you ain't foolin' anyone with that innocent act. But I'm always up for seein' particularly nice gardens. Lead the way."
As they wander down the broad, hot street Rayka ponders what little she knows of the new overlords of Sosthis. The Iuncus family lived in one of the bigger home of the city, taken with no concern for local claims. It not only hosts a storeroom full of gold, jewels and looted artifacts but is also a hub of Chelish social events. There is a extravagant ball there every night, full of exotic foods, imported music and stylish dancing. It is a magnet for the ambitious Chelish nobility who have come to Osrion looking to strike it rich.
As for the home itself, Rayka imagines it must have good security but she has no idea. Guards, magic maybe?
They round a corner and then she sees it, and thoughts of security leave her mind. Instead she is confronted with beauty.
A thick sward of green grass surrounds the house, in bright, colorful contrast to the drab browns and yellows of the dirt Rayka is standing in. Dotting this lawn are full, healthy looking bushes and bunch of flowers, carefully planted. Everything is neatly trimmed and perfectly arranged, all in full bloom and ripe with life. A scent of growing things fills her nose.
The sheer expensive staggers Rayka. In a city where water is precious and every public well has a long line, here are countless gallons being used to irrigate a garden, nothing more then a trivial thing. Why bother?
"What show offs." Obella mutters, looking darkly at the display.
Then Rayka gets it. It is a display of power, of wealth, of sublime contempt for the world around it.
And that world is kept out. A tall iron-wrought fence surrounds the patch of green, pointed with cruel spikes at the top. At the front gate, which is tightly close, stand two guards, sweating profusely in the blazing sun. They did not even have a simple shade covering. Rayka know this heat could kill an unprotected man.
The house itself was a square-ish looking stone building, with two square towers at the front. There are dotted with windows, but they look dark and shuttered. The front entrance is a massive set of iron-wrapped oak doors, locked tight against the heat. She sees no one else.
"I guess that's the thing about power. If you got it then you show it off. Best we don't attract the guards attention. Let's continue with our walk."
Rayka looks around the sides. On each side of the grand manor home are two packed dirt lanes, dry and dusty. One one side there is a smaller, unguarded gate in the wrought-iron fence, locked with a heavy padlock.
One one side is a tumble down old temple, Rayka isn't sure which god. Whichever, it hadn't been inhabited since at least the Awakening, and was quiet, dirty ruin.
On the other was a public stables, a place for those rich enough to have horses and other mounts. It appeared to have both short-term and long-term customers, and the Chelish nobles probably used it for their own mounts. It explained why Rayka didn't see a stables in the manor home.
Rayka notes the guards discomfort and wonders if even other Chelish lives meant so very little to the nobles. She walks along one of the dirt lanes, on alert in case someone decides she is somewhere she shouldn't be. She doesn't think that the guards they had already seen wanted to move much in the heat but one always needed to be careful.
She makes sure to casually point out the padlock to Obdella and Rayka mentally makes note of possible entrances and obstacles. She hadn't expected this turn of events when she woke this morning but maybe if they planned well enough and were lucky enough...
Obella at her side they walk down the dirt lane, and see the side gate. The little thief looks at Rayka, then the lock, "It isn't very impressive. A little bit of work..." She shakes her head, "This is crazy Rayka."
Rayka also notes a side door in the manor home itself, just inside from the gate in the fence. Obviously the two gates work together, providing a way for servants and others to get out without having to walk all the way to the main gate.
Just as Rayka considers this the door opens and a hunched man steps out. Instantly he turns and re-locks the manor door and begins walking to the iron fence gate. Halfway he spots Rayka and Obella, "Whoa re you?" he says suspiciously, then he adds, "There is nothing for beggars here."
"Relax, Obella. We ain't done nothin' yet. We're just appreciatin' the gardens and the beauty of the manor. Besides, what's really crazy is livin' like this when we live like we do. Ain't you tired of havin' to fight for everythin'?"
Rayka pulls out her sketch pad and begins to make some preliminary drawings of the grounds. She wasn't a mapmaker by far but at least it would keep things straight in her mind for later. Her hand stops drawing when she hears a voice address her and Obella and her mind races sorting through plausible excuses.
Keeping her head bowed down slightly as she addresses the man she says, "Sorry, Sir. We ain't begging. We came to look at the gardens. They're famous in Sothis for their beauty and I like drawing pretty things. It's how I make money. And my friend came with me because some of the streets ain't safe in other parts of the city."
The halfing nods, "I am, it is terrible they have come and taken over our city. Getting our own back would be something." Then she looks at the imposing, fortress like house and adds, "But that place looks hard to crack."
The servant who appeared after looks down his nose at Rayka, "Well, this isn't a public park. Begone, or I'll get the dogs after you. Then we will see how safe you are." he waves a brown hand at her, and Rayka notes, with surprise, the servant is Osirion and his speech local dialect.
"Of course not, Sir. Everyone knows there ain't any public parks left in Sothis. At least none worth drawin'."
Dogs...good to know.
Rayka kept her head down to hide her surprise that a local was working for the Chelish. "No need to release the hounds, sir. We'll be leavin'." She turned to go but couldn't resist one last question. "Sir? What's it like servin' the Chelish?"
The man's face darkens, and he freezes. After a moment of apparently inarticulate rage, he spits out, "How dare you. A street urchin..."
He opens the door behind him and shouts, "Warden! I have some riffraff out here, causing trouble." The man turns back, grinning cruelly at Obella and Rayka. "This will teach you."
Obviously, she had touched a nerve causing the man to over-react. She wonders why that is although his cruel smile gives her an idea.
Rayka looks quickly at Obella and doesn't even need to say anything. They were used to running and hiding. Rayka says in parting, "I meant no disrespect. And I've learned enough lessons, thanks."
Rayka gets a good look at the man's face. It is pinched, worn and tired. Obviously he isn't the jolly, merry sort, but Rayka detects hidden depths here, more then is obvious.
Rayka encourages Obella to run, but pauses herself wanting to see who, if anyone, else appears.
She sees a figure exit the doorway. It is a massive, solid looking male oread, armed with sword and helmet. His skin is a dark, hard looking grey and his eyes flesh like twin garnets. The heavy, brutal face turns on Rayka and he shouts, voice loud, "Clear off, last warning." Behind him, Rayka can hear dogs baying, from inside the house.
Rayka's eyes widen slightly when the warden appears. She commits its appearance to memory and notes the barking before she takes off down the dusty lane. She slows somewhat as she gets to the corner of the house so that she won't draw the attention of the front guards. However, she keeps moving quickly and determinedly away from the servant.
Rayka moves away, seeing Obella in the distance, already across the street. The two front guards, having heard some commotion turn and see her. One raises a hand and says, "Get going!", he waves a spear at her threateningly.
Rayka keeps moving but feels like the guard's threat is empty. She would have been very surprised had they decided to chase her. They'd probably die of heat exhaustion before they came close to catching her.
It doesn't take long for Rayka to catch up to Obella. "Well, that was interestin'. That's probably enough for one day. They'll be slightly more alert now. Let's get out of the heat. At least now we know some hidden obstacles, like the dogs."
Obella looks concerned and says, 'Obstacles? To what? You don't actually plan on going back, do you?"
She glances at the forbidding building, "Place is built like a fortress."
Rayka puts her hands on her hips, "You're the one who started all this! Part of you has got to wanna do this."
She watches her friend intently, "I can only plan to go back if you're gonna help me because you're right, it's like a fortress. And you know I ain't good with locks. I'm more of a smash and grab type of person."
"Either we go home and keep scrapin' by on the streets or we take a big risk. You in or out? No hard feelin's either way."
Obella looks shocked at her friend's passion on the subject. obviously to her it had been a passing fancy, a daydream. The halfling stands in the shade of an abandoned home, obviously thinking hard.
'You actually want to do this? You want to rob a manor home, that manor home? Do you have any idea how risky that is? It is insane!" But Rayka can tell the little woman is warming to the idea. The more outrageous her denials, the more she is intrigued.
'We'd be hanged, burned alive, thrown in the river....if we are lucky!"
"It ain't so much as I want to do this as we owe it to Sothis. This will be our way of protestin' the Chelish bein' here. Maybe they'll realize they ain't untouchable."
Rayka nods as Obella lists the reasons not to proceed. "All the more reason to not get caught and why I need your help. No risk, no reward - right?"
"So...wait until dark and then go back and take a look around again? There's still much to learn. I may be crazy but I'm not suicidal. If we go in without plannin' properly, death is certain."
'Hmm." Obella says, "Night time might be even harder. They throw parties there every night. It'll be full of Chelish people and their toadies."
The halfling drums a finger on dirty packed earth walls, 'But you are right, we need more information." She catches herself and says, 'I can't believe we are doing this is. No one has hit a Chelish manor, no one."
"More people could mean more confusion to get lost in. But for tonight I'm thinkin' we just look and see how many people be comin' and goin'. And I don't think they'd have the dogs loose if there're guests. We won't know 'til we take a look. And this time let's stick to the west side of the house. I don't want to be runnin' into that servant again."
Rayka pulls out her sketch pad and makes a few more drawings while her memory is fresh. "That's why they won't see it comin' and why we have a chance - it's because no one has done this before. We should be able to find an abandoned home somewhat close to hole up in for the time being and maybe even watch the manor from."
Obella looks around, "I guess it will be better then standing out here in the sun. Gods, it is hot out today." Wiping sweat they start to look in the buildings nearby for a possible base of operations.
Rayka doesn't know this area well so she explores cautiously. She and Obella explore the ruined buildings around them, looking for a suitable hideout. Most of the buildings are wreaked, with collapsed roofs full of drifting sand.
Finally they find one is decent shape. They enter and find the remains of an old tannery. Vast vats and barrels line the inside, surrounded by old drying racks and other apparatus. The stench of the old tannery is still strong, seeming to seep into the very stones. Everything is covered in dust and slowly rotting. So much of the city had been simply left to decay...
As Rayka enters, they hear a voice from the shadows.
"Stop, you are surrounded." the voice is crisp, businesslike. As they freeze, a figure moves from behind a huge vat that once contained lye.
They are tall with a mask that totally covers the face. A white robe and hood hides everything else.
"And who might you be, entering the domain of the White Jackals?"
Rayka hears no one else. Was this figure bluffing or were they merely good at hiding?
Rayka freezes at the words and is instantly on alert. She strains her ears to hear any sounds of others and her eyes narrow as she studies the white robed figure. The costume is a little much. Someone likes to dress up.
Rayka strains her ears and hears...nothing. Not the nothing of an empty building with creaks, groans and wind whispering. Nothing at all, as if around them was a bubble of pure silence.
She narrows on the figure in front of her. Rayka judges it is a man, from how he stands, how he walked. The face is totally hidden but the inclination of the head implies curiosity, not violence.
The odd silence keeps Rayka on her toes. It suggests magic of some sort but she couldn't be certain.
Fairly confident that he doesn't mean to harm them, Rayka relaxes just a little. "Only two Sothans trying to get out of the heat. We didn't mean to invade anyone's domain. We were looking for someplace empty."
The figure laughs, "Indeed. Did the manor home not suit you?" He shifts slightly, "We saw you across the street and get chased away. I would have thought you'd have run farther. Why hang around this neighborhood?"
"The manor was a little crowded already. There was a misunderstanding." Rayka crosses her arms and deflects answering his last question by asking her own. "So you were watching the place? Don't you have anything better to do? Why are you hanging out here by yourself in this eerily quiet tannery?"
"Not all is quiet, to those with ears to hear." The figure takes a step forward, "You will answer my questions, not the reverse. What are your names? And why should I not punish you for entering our territory? The slave markets are not picky these days, no they are not. The Chelish pay well."
Rayka has the sense the man is very serious about this and she knows he is right. Every time the arrival of the Chelish slavery has become a huge market and few questions are asked about them, doubly so for halflings like Obella.
Rayka steps protectively in front of Obella. "I'm Rayka, not that that means anythin' to you I'm sure. We ain't foes to you. But we ain't goin' to be slaves neither. We'll happily leave you and your many Jackals in peace." She motions at Obella to move backwards and takes a step herself, keeping her eyes on the white-robed man.
"It was just a threat, let's not be hasty." Rayka sees another robed figure move from behind her and block their escape.
"We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt." The first figure says, taking a step forward, "I just want to sate my curiosity. The slavery was merely to...make you attentive. I just wish to know what you are doing..."
Suddenly there is the sound of footsteps outside. A voice calls out, "Twisted Teeth!"
Then the old main door bursts open, as if kicked. Standing there are three men, armed and dressed in beaten leather. The skin visible is covered in intricate black tattoos, swirling thorny vines. All of them are grinning badly, clutching hatches and axes.
'Today you die, Anax!" the leader, a skinny bald man, roars at the figure Rayka was talking with.
Rayka uses the confusion of the situation to usher Obella back and out of the way. She doesn't run away right away but rather watches to see what would happen. After all, it's very hot outside and there was no where to run to. Maybe if they were lucky, they'd wipe each other out leaving the house empty for her and Obella to use.
Obella looks terrified as Rayka scoots her toward a side wall, behind some old drying racks.
Even as they do so the tattooed men rush in, weapons gleaming. Soon they are in a full fledged brawl with the white-robed figures, more of whom appear from plain sight.
It becomes instantly apparent to Rayka that the attackers are more skilled with their weapons but the White Jackals must be using some magic to avoid the worst. Despite the weapons and ferocity the fight is a sort of stalemate, with the attackers being wild and rough, and the white-robed ones being defensive and cautious.
'What...what should we do?" Obella asks and Rayka detects nervous anxiety in her voice. Violence was nothing new to either of them, of course, but this was unknown territory.
"I don't know if we can get out without becomin' targets ourselves. Maybe just let them fight it out. Or at least tire themselves out fightin' so they won't bother with us." She murmured more to herself than to Obella, "It'd be a shame to leave 'cause there's such a good view of the manor from here."
Even as Rayka looks for an escape, a few more tattooed figures break in, welding scimitars. One,a burly looking man with burns all over his face, shouts and charges right at Rayka. There is a wild, raging look in his eyes that Rayka instantly sees as drug-induced. This is a man who cannot be reasoned with.
Rayka reacts on instinct as the large man charges her. She plants her feet, balls her fists, and punches the man in the nose. She's pretty sure she breaks his nose as blood begins to gush down his face.
Rayka hits the man squarely in the stomach, and she sees the wind knocked out of him. He is staggered and if he hadn't been for the drug, the pain might have been enough to drop him. The blearily eyes cross but raises the sword and lashes out with his blade.
He misses clumsily, and Obella takes advantage to try and get around him, to attack from behind. It was an old trick of Rayka's and Obella's.
Rayka continues her assault on the man by following up her punch with a kick to the gonads.