Tania frowns as she's stonewalled by organized bureaucracy.
"I would love to pay a visit to the temples. Let's meet tomorrow for breakfast, get our money and perhaps stay in touch during the Festival. My business is best not conducted when every politician and business owner is focused on festivities..."
Prashant smiles easily to Markis as he mentions joining him. "Of course, my friend. Irori's wisdom has much to teach us, even now. And I would enjoy spending more time with the rest of you - you are all very competent warriors, and I would be remiss if I didn't get a chance to learn from your styles."
"Tomorrow after breakfast I would join you in visiting the temples." comments Nesipho. His interest is more in the architecture of them and any stories surrounding the building of them.
The temples are largely found in the northern part of the city, called the High-Holy District, and most are as colorfully arrayed as is the rest of the city during the festival. To Markis' disappointment, the monasteries dedicated to self-control, known as the Houses of Perfection, are off to the east; however, the priests in the temples you visit recommend a ritual bath in one of the four springs that surround the city to help cleanse spiritual corruption. The one nearest the High-Holy District is used for that precise purpose by pilgrims and locals alike throughout the year.
The temples themselves are beautiful, ornate works of art in their own rights, covered in finely-carved images that seem to adorn every possible scrap of available space on the exteriors. Inside, the carvings continue, and are paired with free-standing statues that serve as both inspiring artworks and altars for worship for the hundreds of unusual Vudrani gods. Even the images of some gods you can recognize easily - Shelyn, Irori, Desna - have unusual elements, such as an extra set of limbs (many, if not most, of the Vudrani gods seem to have four arms rather than the typical two), and others are even stranger still, combining animal and human features into the depictions in ways that seem both deeply exotic and startlingly beautiful at the same time. Many seem to be dancing, but others are posed in meditative postures and still others in martial stances bearing frightening weapons.
As you wander, something quickly becomes clear: the Niswani are an aggressively friendly people. The locals have no difficulty picking you out as foreigners, but their reaction is surprising - many offer you a room to stay at in their homes, without even knowing your names, although in a formal, almost ritualistic fashion. Every few feet it seems as though someone is pressing a cup of some local beverage or a sweet pastry into your hands, and most watch with intent smiles until you eat or drink what you have been offered. As soon as you do, though, they beam proudly and clap with pleasure before leaving you again.
Tania is delighted and thoroughly enjoys the food and the sights, though she politely declines offers to stay, saying she has already and unfortunately made arrangements.
Dazzled by the sights and the colours, she often laughs spontaneously, marveling at the foreign culture of Jalmeray.
As they wander through the temple district Nesipho frequently takes out a piece of paper and sketches upon with chalk. Not his preferred way of capturing images but he doubts the clergy would allow him to take rubbings, and many of the carvings are to large for a proper impression on a single piece of paper in any case. When given an opportunity he asks the various temple attendants about the gods arrayed there.
Prashant gladly accepts the warm welcome. "अपने आतिथ्य का उपहार के लिए धन्यवाद - एक उनके आग या अपने मजदूरों के फल से अंतरिक्ष से दे सकता है कोई बड़ा सम्मान है."
He spends some time in several of the temples, finding out how the citizens of the Impossible Kingdom venerate their gods as compared to the rest of the world, and eagerly makes his way to the ritual baths once he is made aware of them. "A purified soul is a sharpened soul," he says. "And a warrior of Irori may strike his foe with a weapon, but he kills him with his soul."
Markis nods his head in understanding that the Houses of Perfection are still a ways off, but at least he is standing on the same soil. He moves through the crowd timidly, and trying to avoid contact -- very difficult with the press of the crowd. As people press foods and drinks into his hands, he is simply amazed. Then starts apologizing as the drinking vessels spring leaks or crack in his hands.
Hey, Prashant, what's the Vudrani word for "Sorry about that"?
He hurries to the ritual baths with a worried look on his face.
Prashant raises an eyebrow as he notices Markis accidentally breaking many of the earthenware cups he is given. "माफ़ कीजिए," he replies.
Markis blinks a few times. Easy for you to say... he mutters.
He mangles the phrase repeatedly as he moves through the crowds.
Nesihpo repeats the phrase a few times. "माफ़ कीजिए. माफ़ कीजिए"
"Languages are a simple matter Markis. Just a matter of taking the time to practice them."
Breccia's introduction to Niswan has been one more jarring cultural shift in a long series of jarring cultural shifts. Andoran was as different from Katapesh as Niswan is from Andoran. The politeness and offerings of its people are foreign and confusing, and having not felt that he has earned this kindness, Breccia returns it with stony deference and detachment.
It is only in the temple-monastery of Irori that Breccia feels less awkward and more at ease. Situated in an outdoor garden in front of the temple Breccia has forsaken his armor, stacked neatly and bundled in a pack nearby, instead seated in lotus position beneath the flowering boughs of a cherry blossom tree. Breccia's rocky body is covered with cracks and fissures, an oread's answer to scars, as well as elaborate engravings in his rocky carapace inlaid with gold and writing in ignan; an heirloom from his former master.
Unaware that Prashant follows the Master of Masters and may well be on his way here with the others, Breccia enjoys the meditative serenity of his surroundings, as much a statue as he is a man here. So much so that the sparrows and swallows that flit between the branches have taken to perching on his shoulders, dismissed away by a subtle huff of breath or twitch of muscle beneath stone.
__________
After several days of entertainment at the many diversions available during Yolarati, the Festival of Colors, the celebrations finally begin to wind themselves down. During that period, though, it becomes clear to you that word of your actions aboard the Fare Winds has spread somewhat over the last few days - once or twice each day, someone recognizes you and offers a toast or similar acknowledgement of your heroic deeds. It is likely for that reason then that, as you head out into the streets on the festival's last day, a messenger meets you at the door to your inn. "Forgiveness, worships," the man says in thickly-accented Taldane, "but I bring a message from the mighty Lord Raheem Pandisar. If you would follow me please, he asks you to an audience at the palace of the great thakur."
Prashant nods, gathering his spear and other equipment. "बेशक, दोस्त. पर लीड. आप भी अपने महान प्रभु के रूप में मुझे बताए सकता है?"
Diplomacy to try to learn more about the man we're to meet.
Tania smiles and bows back: "That sounds delightful, but I would be remiss if I didn't ask who Lord Raheem Pandisar is and why he is asking such as me to pay him a visit."
If she is satisfied with the answer: "Thank you for this complement of information. I will be happy to follow you. Would you mind waiting a few minutes while I prepare?" replies back Tania. She gets back to her room where she picks the finest clothes she has. She then goes through her routine of defensive incantations. Better safe than sorry... Dad always says I'm too trusting!
As she comes out, she climbs on top of Ashaka, both legs on the same side of the saddle, opening a small silver umbrella to protect her from the sun: "I'm eager to meet your Lord. Let's proceed!"
The man bows again. "Noble visitors, my lord Pandisar is one of the highest and most powerful of the Maurya-Rahm, one of those closest to Thakur Kharswan himself. It is not for one such as I to know his business, but I assure you the invitation itself is a great honor," he replies.
Nesipho looks blankly at the Taldane man, the name Lord Raheem Pandisar means nothing to him. Sensing that he and his companions are being honored by this request though he gives a slight nod. He waits patiently till Tania returns, making no effort of his own to improve his appearance with a change of clothes, such cultural niceties as might exist in this part of the world being unknown to him.
Markis had hung around, mostly near Nesipho and Prashant to take advantage of their language skills and hopefully pick up a few useful phrases of Vudrani. He still appeared nervous around crowds, but seemed to appreciate the friendship the two offered.
When the messenger extended the invitation, Markis seemed at first very flattered, and interested. Then a look of worry crossed his face. He wants to meet us at his palace? He forced a smile, but the concern for very fragile -- and expensive -- objects was evident in his eyes.
Out of the inn more than he's been there and keeping odd hours when he does choose to sleep, Breccia's presence has been a deceptively subtle one for someone with the direct presence that the oread has. The morning hours are usually the only time that the others catch Breccia at the inn, typically his wake and signs of his former presence are all that remain.
Inquiring visitors are not met with suspicion, but acceptance by Breccia. While the others ask their questions, Breccia quietly takes time to don his stone armor with the assistance of a scrappy Vudruni boy that has been serving as an attendant while the group has been in Niswan. Once the armor is properly donned, Breccia pays the boy to handle some of his other day-to-day services with a handful of coins, and then comes to join the others by the door.
"આ પર્વત પાસ જો ધણ ચાલ ક્ષીણ થઈ જવું નથી," Breccia rumbles, then offers his translation in Taldan more simply. "This one will go," though there is some detail and nuance lost in translation.
______
The messenger leads you through the city, toward the noble's quarter, called the Heights, and then on to the thakur's palace at the summit of the hill that overlooks Niswan. As you travel, the throng of celebrants begins to thin out, and for the first time since you arrive you find you all have space to move without brushing up against dozens, even hundreds, of people. The buildings become more rich, the Yolarati colors even more vibrant (some of the displays are even magical in nature), and the guards are more visible. By the time you reach the palace gates, there seems to be no one but you for the watchful guards to stare at, and their dark-eyed gazes remain fixed on you as you pass within the thakur's walls. An animal handler steps forward and carefully, cautiously asks that Ashaka remain with him - "I have worked with tigers before, noble lady, and he will come to no harm in my care," he assures her.
Inside, towering palatial chambers supported by elaborately carved pillars surround an ornamental stream that flows through the palace. Halls of polished marble lead to a languidly luxurious sitting room. The thakur himself sits at the far end of the room, his bejeweled turban sparkling in the light shining through the windows. Kharswan paints a canvas while watching his baby son in a crib nearby, but pays no attention to you. Instead, a tall, tanned man with a precisely-trimmed goatee approaches you and bows. "Zubhaa vizarat," the man says, then repeats himself in Taldane. "All the gods' blessings upon you. Thank you for coming to meet me. I am Lord Raheem Pandisar, minister to the mighty thakur, but you, my friends, must call me Raheem. Please, please, sit. Your names have already reached my ears - mighty Breccia, wise Prashant, deadly Nesipho, beautiful Tania, mysterious Markis. Your deeds against the dreaded Captain Danava and the crew of the Burning Scourge are the talk of the city, and I am most pleased to make your acquaintances myself."
The displays of wealth in Niswan are thematically similar to what Breccia had come to expect in his time serving Izah the Golden in the city of Katapesh, though on the whole Niswan has proven itself to be a cleaner and kinder mirror to that desert hub. The oread soldier is silent on his dutiful approach to the invited estates, while his curiosity at the colors of foreign lands seems tempered by a sense of obligation, though not absent entirely.
By the time the group has been escorted into the thakur's chambers, Breccia seems just as unflinching as he has been earlier, though his curious stares at the colors and displays of Jalmerayan life seems now directed towards a display of something much more simple: human life. While not gawking, Breccia's focus seems to frequently shift to the infant in the crib with the same expression of curiosity a human may give when seeing an unfamiliar animal cub.
Praise, though, earns Breccia's attention again. "" he rumbles earthily in his native tongue to the thakur's attendant, before offering the closest translation in Taldane as he can. "I performed only as expected."
The mountain does not earn praise for standing.
Tania enjoys the climb up, feeling the might of Ashaka as he climbs up, feeling his warm roaring as she plays between his ears. She does her best to smile and salute the people she has discussed with if she happens to pass them by, always happy to meet new people and make connections.
Still, she exhales softly as they escape the tumult below and welcomes the fresher breeze with a joyous laughter.
She says her farewell to Ashaka and bids him to make her proud, before proceeding inside.
"Zubhaa vizarat to the mighty Thakur and his families, as well as yourself, minister. May you be blessed with the warming sight of peace and happiness blooming all around you." she offers as she eyes the crib. "And you are too kind Lord Raheem. We were only too happy to escape the boredom of the sea voyage."
Nesipho grins and nods at the guardsman as they pass by them. "An honor guard for us it seems" he chuckles softly to his companions.
Before seating himself Nesipho gives a low bow, "The honor is ours to meet the Thakur and Lord Raheem."
"As as Miss Tania says, better to keep our minds occupied to keep us distracted from the voyage at sea. It will be to soon before I return to a ship."
Mark is looks a bit bewildered at his new title, and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, which groans in protest not so much for his weight but his mere presence. He stops moving and keeps his hands safely in his lap and pays attention. He doesn't add to the conversation, but nods politely-- if a bit nervously-- to his host.
Prashant returns the nobleman's bow with a great deal of interest, his body at a ninety-degree angle. "You honor me with your words, Your Lordship, but my role against the dread Danava was limited. The others deserve the lion's share of the deed, as I merely watched as they wreaked havoc aboard the pirate ship." Prashant straightened, and cast an eye over towards the infant's crib. A smile creeps across his face. "I had not heard that the Thakur had produced an heir. Though it be a trifling thing from a priest of little consequence, it would please me if you could passs along my congratulations to Him."
Raheem nods at Prashant's words. "I will do so when the time is fit," he replies. Turning to Nesipho, Tania and Breccia, he says, "By all reports, you are too humble; Captain Danava had a fearsome and well-deserved reputation, and the ease with which you defeated him and his crew is truly remarkable." He gestures to a servant, who approaches, head bowed, with a tray filled with steaming cups of tea, candied fruits, and other delicacies. As the refreshments are passed around, Raheem continues, "It is for that reason that I have asked you here today, in fact. Two weeks ago, a favorite cousin of thakur Kharswan disappeared suddenly. With the help of divination magic, his corpse was eventually found, bearing ritual sacrificial markings. Have you heard of the cult of Dhalavei? Do not be surprised if you have not - they are a secretive and repugnant lot, even here in our own lands. Dhalavei is a goddess worshipped only by a few wretched and bloodthirsty fools in Vudra; her province is that of silent internal rot, and the cultists display their faith by corrupting and destroying from within. Ofttimes, the cultists, who call themselves the 'Ebon Destroyers,' join caravans, sometimes in several small groups to allay suspicion, waiting until they befriend the travelers and gain their trust. In the dark of night, at prearranged places, they strike using sacrificial blades or their bare hands to stealthily and systematically murder their victims. Aferwards, the Ebon Destroyers dispose of the bodies, making entire caravans disappear without a trace.
"Worship of Dhalavei is viewed as horrific by all people of good worth, but few rajas or thakurs in Vudra itself are willing to risk the cult's wrath by prohibiting it outright. Fortunately, our mighty thakur is not so weak as these. Incensed at the attack on his family, thakur Kharswan called on the Maurya-Rahm and demanded that we outlaw the cult and prohibit the worship of Dhalavei. Many of his advisors warned that the killing was a calculated measure to observe the thakur’s response, and that such a drastic reaction might be unwise. Mighty Kharswan would not relent, however, and the ban on worship of Dhalavei was handed down.
"That very night the thakur received a death threat from the forbidden cult." Raheem pauses, looking grave. "We have sought out these vile corruptors time and again over the last two weeks, and have found nothing. I have come to suspect that there are informants within the ranks of our guard, or even within the Palace itself. If I am right, we will continue to have no success while we use local forces.
"That is why I now turn to you. What I have learned, although most still do not know it, is that Captain Danava was a Dhalavei cultist, and some of his power likely came from the efforts of the priests who worship the Unsuspecting Rot. As you destroyed him, and as you are outsiders with no connections to our island, I feel I can - and I must - trust you. I offer you both gold and the gratitude of Jalmeray in exchange for this: the destruction of the Ebon Destroyers in our nation. What say you?"
As all colors vanish in shadow and darkness, so do all forms and things vanish in Dhalavei’s shadow. Her faithful claim that she holds the hidden comprehension of the unmaking of all things, and that she awaits the time when her cult is perfectly positioned to unleash her final destruction. She relishes well-planned espionage that leads to the devastation of enemies, the sowing of discord that breaks families, and secret political corruption that topples empires.
Frequently outlawed, Dhalavei’s cultists work in clandestine groups and sacrifice their enemies and other intelligent beings to their dark goddess. The new moon is a propitious time for sacrifices to Dhalavei, as her cult claims that she then actively strips the light from the night sky. Eclipses are especially sacred events to Dhalavei’s faithful.
Dhalavei's holy symbol is six arms extending out from a central starburst, each bent at the elbow to grasp the elbow of the next arm. Her favored weapon is the temple sword, her alignment is lawful evil, and her domains are Destruction, Evil, Knowledge, Law and Trickery.
Without looking to the others, Breccia steps forward as if to volunteer his services in response to the request. His dark, hematite-colored eyes stare at Raheem for a long while in that statuesque silence, before he finally rumbles a deep and gravelly response. "This one accepts your contract." He looks to the others, curious to see if any of them will put forth the effort of risking life and limb once again, his attentive stare an assessing one, as if wanting to see the worth of each individual at this test of mettle.
Markis shakes his head at the question about the cult, then listens intently to the description of the Ebon Destroyers.
His mind whirled. As a former pawn of one secret cult, he wondered if his own experiences would be more of a hindrance than a boon to this group. However, they had not rejected him outright when he manifested the taint he long sought to control. He glances up at Breccia's rumbling acceptance, then makes his decision.
Yeah. Er, I mean yes. I'll help. He wished he sounded as confident as the oread.
Tania frowns as she listens to the tale, absentmindedly playing with the leather sleve of her jacket: "A pirate is an obvious threat. This is different... Sleepers waking to slaughter recent friends. Breaking trust and disappearing once more. This is no simple threat, for you can't point to it... I'm in!" she finally says with laughter in her voice, wondering what her father would think of this new business strategy.
Nesipho's normally cheerful expression darkens at mention of cultists.
His voice holds a deep anger when he speaks, a quiet whisper at first, "It is enough that the amazala should worship demons near my home lands." Then rising in volume, "How is it that men should also fall to such depravities as you describe. See to the protection of the Thakur and his son. Namuhla mina ngizozingela. Today I shall hunt." He emphasizes the last with a rap of the butt of his spear on the tiles of the palace.
Prashant inhales sharply at the whisper of Dhalavei's name. "I have heard of this sect, Your Lordship," he whispers, now concerned for secrecy and safety. "Once, in my travels, I had the occasion to sail under the flag of a captain with far less wisdom in choosing his sailors. The galley cook had been a priest of the Unsuspecting Rot for some time, wormed his way into the captain's trust, and hired on three others as galley mates. Five days out to sea, they attempted to overpower the crew and take control. I suspect they aimed to kill as many of us as it took, and use the rest as sacrifices to their goddess to hasten the end of everything, or some rediculousness like that. Of course, they were unsuccessful, else I would not be here for the telling, but they fought with such fervor and zeal that this much is true - even if Dhalavei does not know how to unmake the universe, her worshippers definitely believe she can.
He bows deeply to the lord before him. "I will do everything that is within my power to make certain that the threat upon the thakur is removed, Your Lordship. You say that Captain Danava was one such cultist. How came you by this information? And did it have, perhaps, any information that might lead us to ending the Ebon Destroyers' threat to the thakur and his continued prosperity?"
Raheem shakes his head. "An early divination, when Danava first began his reign of terror. Useless now, I'm afraid, but it came to mind when I heard of Danava's death and your roles in it."
He turns his attention to the rest of the group. "Prashant's tale is yet another example of the horrors the Ebon Destroyers inflict on their victims; only his escape make it at all unusual. You see why they must be stopped.
"I ask you then - name your price. If it is gold you seek, there is gold to be had. Some of you, I think," - and he nods slightly in Tania's direction - "may wish favors instead, and that can likely be arranged as well. So tell me what you desire, and we will have our bargain."
Negotiations have never been Breccia's strong suit. Wincing at the thought of needing to parlay in some fashion, the giant of an oread shifts awkwardly where he stands and looks to the others, then returns his focus to the thakur with obvious discomfort to his voice. " I need only what is required to be myself." The words in Taldane do not have the same truth that they do in Terran, but Breccia translates fairly. "Weapons, armor... tools of a soldier are all I require. Failing that, gold will... suffice."
"The fields wish for rain, the sky longs for wind."
"The Master of Masters would need nothing, but he has transcended the limitations of the physical world. I, his imperfect servant, have not fully achieved that self-perfection, but mere coin does not enrich the soul. If we are able to purge these heretics from the Impossible Kingdom, it would be a great honor for this to be the first of many acts I perform for the thakur within his court."
Tania smiles back at Raheem: "Indeed, you know well that I am here to consolidate alliances, but let's leave this for now and learn to be friends. I will be happy to discuss possibilities of trade that would profit each of us fully, but once this looming threat is dealt with."
Markis's mouth pops open at the offer.
Really? I dunno. I mean, I'd like to figure out some way to, well, he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, which groans in protest. He stands before the furniture can crack beneath him. I came to this isle to learn control. Could you see that I gain acceptance to one of the Houses of Perfection?
Unaccustomed to the ways of courts or the proper etiquette of them Nesipho speaks plainly, as likely to offend as not. "Lord Raheem my desires are rather straight forward - further enchantment of my arms and armor - or useful magical trinkets. A man with such items and the skill to use them can make his own way in the world to follow his path. To follow where the sun leads him."
Hearing Nesipho's words, Breccia slowly turns his head to look at the Garundi man. There's little expression on the oread's stoic face -- what little of it is visible behind his helm and facemask -- but those cold, hematite eyes convey something of appreciation. The nod of recognition that follows is more significant than the seemingly dismissive gesture may imply.
"Very well," Raheem nods, seeming pleased. "I will see to it that suitable arrangements are made for each of you. In the meantime, allow to provide you with the resources I can to begin your search. First, I have this," he says, producing a folded sheet of parchment. "It is a writ granting you the authority to investigate this matter in my name. I ask that you use it sparingly, so as not to alert our foe, but do not hesitate when it seems called for. In truth, the authority grants grants is limited - it makes clear that you are seeking the aid of those loyal to the thakur on a mission in his name, but individual cooperation is not guaranteed, and subtlety dictates that additional.. 'force' be carefully rationed. Come to me, should you need it, and I will do what I can. Otherwise, I ask that you do not report to anyone to me, for what I imagine should be obvious reasons."
He hands over the writ, then continues. "Beyond the writ, I can only point you in the direction of those who may know that which will start you on the right path: Prince Kanvar, a great student of Vudrani history; Lord Mahindra, an infamous rumormonger; Pravezak, the thakur’s spiritual counselor; and Varunasi, a high-caste merchant well acquainted with current regional politics. All should be willing to speak to you at my request."
Nesipho looks to his companions. "I say we start with those with a more reputable reputation. Speaking with Mahindra first could turn against us if he turns around and sells information to possible enemies. Prince Kanvar or Pravezak seem better options to me. Then move on to Varunasi and finally Mahindra."