===============
Imix
===============
You stand, the minutes trickling by, nothing but the sound of your three's breathing pervading the still air. Nurix's face grows ashen as you three stand there. His breathing ragged, the guardsman leans against a shelf, knife gripped tightly in his hand.
Eventually, you hear a voice outside - Hamfatten's baritone, a voice with that peculiar quality that some men have, loud and easily carried on the wind. Even through the thick warehouse walls, you can make out some of what that voice rumbles. "Rigel... soldier Anton... triage... boards and pegs...
The small door swings open and crowding the frame, backlit by the sun, a humongous form that can only be the magister. That rumbling voice still going, Hamfatten steps the warehouse, tying a strip of cloth over his mouth. Behind him are two of his magistrates, the lean Maelkix, weaponsmith's daughter, and Ichbud, the former hunter and trapper. "Maelkix, Ichbud, stick together. Suriname, some guards are in the eastern warehouse, we'll have some boards here soon enough."
Nurix stands straight and looks to you. "Don't feel good. Need some air."
===========
Oios & Drazan
===========
Aktuk shrugs. "Don't know about the monk. Hamfatten went north with the redhead and some of his men a few hours ago. The noblewoman and her staff have taken over Tolita's old home. The Chief Engineer got a hatchet in the face, so I heard anyways. Telowo's seeing to the funerary rights of our dead." The guardsman turns his head towards the High Hall. "Needed a big space. Fifth floor, Mayor's penthouse. I can send a guard to fetch them all, if you'd like."
===========
Istiel
===========
Suuha smiles, warm, a laugh - perhaps a little harsher than you remember - escaping from his curled lips. "Hardly, Ist. I was dead on my feet. Then the Suriname came, and healed the masses here. Now," your friend says, looking briefly to the ground. "I'm almost right as a rainstorm."
Suuha clears his throat, smile gone. "Almost. You know, it is... lighter, obviously, not having the mask. But it is also lighter, know what I mean? I think the time of our order is at an end, Ist."
Oios rubs his forehead wearily. Yes, do so. And have the Suriname and the mayor's girl called as well. I do not know this place well, what would be a place where we could give our report with some privacy?
Istiel stares at Suuha momentarily, unsure if she heard him correctly. "What are you talking about? Did your brain get jarred out of your head?"
The monk raises her voice, obviously perturbed. "Our order is still strong in the capital. We will overcome this. We will rebuild. We cannot quit. You can not... roll over... and let these savages destroy this civilization."
She realizes she was speaking loudly, and her fists clenched. Exhaling slowly, Istiel speaks softly. "I swore an oath to protect these people to my dying breath. So did you."
===============
Imix
===============
Imix talks, a part of his mind caught up in augmenting his weapon. As he starts he turns, just slightly.
"Hold Nurix. If you run, we kill you. This thing disguised itself as Gilders, and doesn't usually leave survivors."
"Once we are outside it is simple enough to confirm you and Telltuk are... unchanged. It may be that it did not anticipate a Suriname. Then we can take you straight to Triage."
==========
Imix
==========
Hamfatten's voice booms over the both of you, cutting Nurix off. "Rakk! You think we've got a shapechanger among us? I sent Anton to carry the guard to the Coywolf!"
========
Oios & Drazan
========
Aktuk points to the High Hall. "Meeting rooms."
--------
Telowo is the first to meet you, in the same chamber the Mayor spoke with you in before you left for Cornucopia. He nods a weary hello and sits in a chair to the right of where the Mayor usually sits. "Nice to see you safe, old friend. And you as well, Drazan of the Fire Peaks."
The priest lays his staff on the table in front of him and sighs. "I've been attending to the last rights of our people. Though we can't send them into the waters any time soon, can we? Twenty-seven lay above us in the Mayor's penthouse. How many more must be beyond our--"
The door swings open, and the Lady Bellet enters, wordlessly taking a seat, while her man, Antuk, stands behind her. She looks around the room, a small smile playing on her lips. "You called me, Shadow? I must admit, I thought about telling you to rakk off, but curiosity got the best of me. And don't ask my man to leave. He goes where I go."
Time passes. There's no sign of the master of monks, nor Rigel.
Eventually, Telowo clears his throat. "Should we be meeting in secret like this? Perhaps we should have a moot and invite everyone to speak? Times like this," the priest says, shaking his head, "The people need to see hope and direction."
========
Istiel
========
Suuha looks away, face momentarily blushed at your rebuke. "Jeez, Ist." Your friend rubs his jaw thinking. Then he rubs it some more. The wheels always did turn a little slowly for Suuha. "I never said I would forsake my vow. I intend to see the job finished, one way or another..."
"But, think about it. What did we see at the capital? And on the way there? Religious fervor, villages underm... underm... taken over. Poverty, people more interested in a bird-woman than the games or the tribute..."
Dropping his hand to his lap, Suuha looks up at you. "Something's going on. I mean, why would they attack just us? Or attack us first? We're just a town that makes silk at the edge of the Valley."
Imix grits his teeth. "If he's in sight, get him. Otherwise what is done, is done. We need to discuss protocols in case there is more than one, and deal with what we have."
The Suriname turns to Nurix, flaring at the challenge "I saved you, because suspicion is not guilt. This thing killed five guards less than an hour ago, and just tried to kill two more. Your anger is as understandable as it is inappropriate."
"Hamfatten - how long until we are done, and I can take Nurix here outside for testing?"
Istiel sighs, looking away. "Sorry. Today has been... stressful." Hazel eyes scan the room- the broken and downtrodden are laid out before her. "These people have no hope. I thought you lost yours as well."
She thinks for a moment about his assessment, and shrugs. "Times are strange. People are grasping at what hope they can." The wolf claimed the era of man was over. It seems the Frozen did not get this message.
The monk watches the kitchen, desperately awaiting her soup- her stomach felt like a hollow, beaten copper sphere she had once seen on display in the capital. It was amazing the metal could hold its shape like that, and float on the surface of water. Perhaps Suuha is right. What if the sphere of our civilization is becoming hollow inside? It will still float until punctured.
Shrugging at his questions, Istiel shakes her head. "I do not know. Myself, Oios, and Drazen went scouting after the battle. We saw the frozen building camps, bridges, and outposts. Doing strange things to our farms." She pauses briefly. "We sent six more of their raiders to their blasphemous gods."
===========
Imix
===========
The Magister shrugs, looking to the just returning soldiers, carrying wood, obsidian hand drills, and wooden pegs. "An hour perhaps, to secure both doors, securely. What about the food? Could be some not rotten in there? Anyways; Mael, take a guard and stand watch at the north door while we secure this one. Ichbud, run towards the Coywolf, find Anton, and bring him and the other guard back here. Nurix, outside. Suriname, let's see your test."
Nurix grits his teeth as the blade slices his flesh, drawing blood. He looks at you, face pinched with anger. "I'll return the favor, Suriname."
Hamfatten, busy drilling a hole through a board and door for a wooden peg, drops the hand drill to his side and runs his hand across his face, which is slowly turning red. "Rakk us to Toilday."
"It might be. I feel the shapeshifter is too dangerous. It has taken five guards on at one time, and emerged not just victorious but apparently unwounded."
Once outside he hands his Terbutje to Hamfatter and carefully draws the Wo'Tah sacrificial dagger from his belt. Never before used the obsidian shard that makes up the blade has an edge sharper than the razor Imix uses.
Carefully Imix draws the blade across Nurix's arm, cutting enough to provide a slit in the flesh that can be pulled apart to see what lies beneath. He is careful to cut up the arm so he does not cut Nurix's tendons.
So much blood.
It seems almost comical that such a small cut - barely two inches - could bleed so copiously.
Imix shakes his head as the guard collapses. "Not him." he apologises. Stop the bleeding. Take him to Triage."[/b]
Desperately he struggles to keep his composure as he turns back "Either it is still inside, or it is Telltuk."
Imix cannot help feeling vindication when the story is told. He turns to Hamfatten.
"It is free. We can boarding the building. All we can do for now is more guards. I am going to find the guards. Organise a..." he pauses "My apologies, I am tired. [b]"I suggest you organise a meeting. I would like to attend."
Use an enhancement for +1 if possible. He'll use his sacrificial dagger (I am pretty sure he still has it). He'll hand his Terbutje to Hamfatten.
...Oh.
Well, hopefully he can avoid using his strength.
After this Imix would like to catch some sleep - he needs to recover his magic. I don't think there'll be enough time to do that before the meeting, but hopefully he'll at least get some.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
===================
Oios, Drazan & Imix
===================
Imix comes through the door like a conquering king - a pose somewhat ruined by carrying a basket in his weapon hand.
"Ruin and disaster!" he pronounces, walking through the room and moving to stand behind an empty seat. "Gilders is dead. That which killed him stole his skin then bypassed our guards in his form and sabotaged our food supplies. It is out there, right now. Possible more than one of them."
"I am sure this meeting is to discuss some critical agenda, but right now nothing is more important than this: how can we know the people in this room are the people in this room?"
Drazan narrows his eyes as Imix, "Skin stealer? Foul magic to be sure. Shouldn't it be obvious? Cuts all over the flesh and loose folds or tight creases where the skin does not fit the offender?"
Oios struggles to maintain his composure and succeeds, but barely. Enemies within as well as without? Ruin and Disaster does not begin to cover this. The enemy throws everything it can at us. It wants us destroyed. We just need to hold...
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Forming an army around the town of Moson Kahni, the King's brother (who is only known as the usurper in the historical record) waged a guerrilla war, his forces fading into the northern swamps and foothills of the Teeth of the World. So far from the Capital, at a time when the Baunti Valley was just solidified into one kingdom, the usurper established a power base among the people of the northwest that made him difficult to root out.
A year into the uprising, a stranger walked into the 14th grandson of Damballah's court, his cloak-hood pulled low over his face. The stranger offered the 14th grandson his services. I can end this war in a fortnight, the cloaked man said.
The 14th Grandson was of course incredulous. His forces had been at war for over year with little progress. Thousands were dead. Atrocities were performed. Birds blanketed the northern lands, feeding off the carrion of the dead. If you do that, the 14th grandson said, sneering, You can have all the goldstones in my castle!
A smile, barely visible beneath the cloak-hood, spread across the stranger's lips. I do not want gold, the stranger replied. But I will call on you in the future for one service - which shall not be ignored.
Within three days, rumors reached the court of the 14th grandson that his brother was losing his grip on reality. Apparently, the man spoke to those either not alive, nor present. What was once a formidable military mind was gone too. The victories for the 14th grandson came quickly and decisively, as the usurper's decisions proved ever worse, his men sent into indefensible locations, good leaders replaced with incompetent ones, supply lines diverted without reason from the field.
The usurper's army melted into the land, desertion rife, and before a fortnight, the king's brother was taken prisoner. Brought before the king, the court was jubilant, and ready to see the 14th grandson's revenge enacted. The King, however, knew the moment that the usurper entered the court that the man standing before him was not his brother. A lifetime spent in the company of his sibling was enough to pierce the disguise.
The 14th grandson of Damballah had just one question, which he asked, voice quivering with fear. "Who are you, stranger?"
Slowly, the King's brother reached up to his mouth, and sharp claws split from the tips of the man's fingers, raining blood onto the floor of the royal court. Grabbing his lips, the impostor ripped the skin back, and pulled the usurper's face down around its head. In its place; a blood-red, emaciated and hairless head stared back, yellowish eyes and teeth suggesting malnourishment or disease. The creature's voice - its true voice - came in a syllabent hiss.
I am No One and Every One. And I shall return for my favor.
Shedding the ursurper's skin like an oversized dress, the creature placed the skinsuit into a satchel at its side, and walked out of court. The 14th grandson, in a panic, consulted with his wisest sages. The creature shared all the traits of a malevolent fey, they decided. It was obviously a master of disguise, and judging by how quickly it shed the usurper's skin, could change them quickly. The sages shuddered, for it was also a competent liar. Indeed, no one in the court by Damballah's grandson had believed the creature to be anything other than the usurper.
As for the creature's favor? It has ong since been stricken from the historical record.
"No. The disguise is, apparently, flawless. In the era of the 14th grandson... Wait - how did the legend go? Ah yes:" Imix pauses, his cadence changing to the half-poetry half-lecture of a story. Verbatim he recites the words to a tale that had been one of his favourites, and as close to frivolous entertainment as a young Suriname was allowed.
When finished he opens the basket he brought, reaches in and draws out the skin within.
Story under spoiler - it's awesome, go read it.
========
Istiel
========
Suuha smiles. "I'm still here. There's always hope this side of the crossroads."
The smile quickly fades from his face as you mention the Frozen's activities. "They attacked with much more... purpose than I've been led to believe they had."
Standing, the monk sighs. "I'm sorry I missed the opportunity to help. What do you plan to do now?" Suhha then nods towards the kitchen, where from behind the doors emerges Ogwe, holding a bowl of what can only be your soup. "After you eat, I mean."
=============
The Meeting
=============
As Imix pulls the skin from the basket, Telowo gasps, his face full of consternation. "The Mayor's?" is all he says, his voice sounding small, defeated.
The Lady Bellet sits and stares, a look of - would you call it wonder? - on her face. "I remember hearing that tale, Suriname, somewhere years ago, a party perhaps? I discounted it as myth then. I'll be keeping my men with me at all times. You as well, Antuk. The rest of you wold be wise to do the same. Gather your guards and keep them close."
Simultaneously, the door behind you swings open, Hamfatten and the Garrison Captain, Galton Tyrill, enter. Hamfatten stops, staring at the Suriname, before edging into the room and sitting, the Garrison-Captain taking a chair next to him.
The Magister's face gets ruddier as he sits, looking at the basket. "Well then," Hamfatten says, slamming his fist into the table. "What do we do to avenge the Mayor! And how do we find this gods damned assassin and put it down!"
Galton sits next to him, fingers steepled, the man's hawklike face looking to each of you. "The assassin is worrisome. But he isn't the only problem. I've got twenty men left. What do we do about the Horde at our gates?"
Istiel sighs as Suuha speaks, his words echoing the thoughts of others. It was apparent that something else was gravely amiss. She is distracted by the kitchen doors opening, the sight of hot soup causing her stomach to rumble with the same ferocity she showed the Frozen today.
Paying her temperamental belly no mind, she watches the soup make its way across the room while speaking. "I plan to find Master and seek his wisdom. It saved me more than once today. Have you seen him?"
A memory flashes back- to the battlefield, when Domhnall was administering a potion to Suuha. "Did you notice the scabs on his arms?"
"Before we discuss strategies, we need to ensure we are secure." advises the Suriname, trying for patient but ending close to patronising.
"Then we need to discuss what problems we have encountered." he enumerates what he knows "The lack of stored food. The army - and it is an army - outside. The assassin within. Morale. Logistics."
"But, before all that, we need to choose a leader. Every good candidate is in this room. As I am religiously incapable of taking leadership, neutral, and obviously not the assassin." Imix tries not to insult the others with the childish logic involved in proving that "I propose I lead this process."
Continuing on in the blithe expectation others will accept his words he continues "Who, then, would take temporary leadership at this time?"
=============
The Meeting
=============
All of these things are important, Suriname. Oios interjects. It does not matter who the leader is if the skinchanger keeps assassinating them. It does not matter that we find and stop the skinchanger if we starve. It does not matter that we procure and safeguard food if our walls are overrun. We must address all of these things.
But you are right that choosing a visible leader should be the first order of affairs. Morale is low, and a strong leader can start addressing the problem of our defense and our supplies. As well, since the leader will probably be targeted by the assassin. We can use this as a trap for it.
Oios looks at the others. All the people who could be equipped to lead Shadeholme aside from Domnhall were in the room but losing any of them would be yet another blow to a city barely holding together as it was. Perhaps a decoy was in order.
This leader does not need to have honeyed words or even have power, but needs to be a fearless figurehead, willing to die, walk among the people to give them home, and, above all, be expendable. I propose that the actual leader work in secret and be one of the people in this room. And that I will be the figurehead. I will relay whatever orders I am given and if I die then the 'transition of power' will be quick. If not then I will step down as soon as the time of crisis passes.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
===========
Istiel
===========
Suhha shakes his head, his hands wandering up to his shaved head. "Haven't seen him. And, yeah, I noticed them. Fresh scabs. Like he's been cutting himself. He didn't have them before we left for the capital."
Your friend shrugs, still rubbing his head. "Think I'm going to let it grow out."
===========
Meeting
===========
"Before we discuss strategies, we need to ensure we are secure." advises the Suriname, trying for patient but ending close to patronising.
Galton nods. "Right now, I've got ten men at the Ghat Gates. Five of those go on regular patrols around the palisade. Another five on the ground at the Gates. Last five men are standing guard at the entrance to the silk grove, in case any Frozen come up from there."
And that I will be the figurehead. I will relay whatever orders I am given and if I die then the 'transition of power' will be quick. If not then I will step down as soon as the time of crisis passes.
The Lady Bellet smirks as Oios finishes his speech. She sits forward, for a second her eyes flashing with cruel mirth. "I second the shadow's suggestion. Let him be the worm on the fisherman's hook. As for an actual leader, know this: this jaunt is no longer amusing. I plan on getting out of Shadeholme as soon as it is safe to do so. I don't care who you put forward, but my guards and my wealth is my own, not this town's."
Istiel accepts her soup from Ogwe with outstretched hands and a mumbled thank you. Eager to eat, she quickly unfastens the bottom straps of her mask and unfolds the veil tucked within while speaking. "The Frozen's healing potions require blood freely given. He may have been making potions for the battle using their techniques. It could be more effecient."
The monk hungrily downs her soup with a wooden spoon, briefly stopping to regard Suuha incredulously. "I am already struggling to take you seriously as is. Domhnall would give you worse than fish gutting duty for being unkept as well."
The soup vanishes in a matter of minutes, and she would regret eating too quickly if it didn't make her feel so warm. Istiel buckles her mask in place before standing and stretching- her wounds still stung and her muscles ached.
Still, her duty did not allow her to rest. "I am going on patrol. Hopefully I will find our Master and not Frozen."
"All should lead. Each one of you take up a banner of one of these problems and address it as you see fit. Food. Defense. Subterfuge. War. Tricks and misdirection are pointless when the enemy numbers intend to murder or enslave everyone!"
============
Istiel
============
Suuha smiles, rubs the top of his head again. "Perhaps. We'll see, eh? I bet Domhnall is going to love my new style." Your friend's grin drops and he closes his eyes, leaning back again against the wall. "You go. I'm going to rest here tonight. I'll find you tomorrow."
You pass Rigel, who enters, head down as you go, bumping into you. Looking up, you see her eyes are bleary, unfocused. She looks to you for a second, nods, and makes her way to Issy, where she leans in, says something in the younger girl's ear, and then they embrace, a long, heartfelt hug.
------------
Making your way north, your eyes slowly acclimate to the dark. The north end of Eel Mound is dark, largely devoid of people, who seem to be clustered around the Copper Coywolf and High Hall, as if hoping for safety in numbers. You pass a few soldiers walking the palisade, and then, barely noticeable in the dark and drizzle the warehouses loom. You go to the first one past the granary - and find it boarded up, planks secured with wooden pegs across the doorway.
Making your way to the next warehouse, you find the small entryway locked, and circle around to the north, to try the larger double doors, where you spy the silhouette of a person, sitting on top of the warehouse roof...
=============
Meeting
=============
Hamfatten nods, his face grim. "I agree with the Fr... outlander. Perhaps we should 'take a banner.' Or two as needed. Oios can act as our speaker to the population."
The Garrison-Captain cracks one knuckle, then another. "I'll handle defense. And m'Lady, you will be contributing some soldiers to the greater good."
Oios nods at Hamfatten As long as all pretend that the orders are authorized and coming from me that would be well. The assassin must think that I am more than just a figurehead speaker. As for our defense... I must relay what we found in our scouting..
And Oios, as quickly as he can summarizes what he knows. The sheer number of the enemy are known to everyone who survived the intitial assault but Oios explains the wondrous equipment that the special forces of the enemy possess by displaying the magical satchel, the astounding alchemy, and the high quality weaponry that they took from the sappers trying to bring down Shadeholme's walls. He goes on to describe how terrifyingly well organized the invading army was with their systematic looting and coordinated call signs
This 'He Who Speaks in Pain' is the force that is driving these disparate tribes to work in such unnatural unison. If he was removed they would surely break apart into their natural state of chaotic infighting. But, their numbers are so numerous that we were unable to get close to even the monk's mound before being forced to retreat. We have no knowledge where this uniting force even is.
Oios shakes his head wearily We can only take hope in the enemy no longer working from the shadows but instead are showing their hands. The rest of the Three Peoples now know that there is something terribly wrong happening here and they must be responding. They throw skinwalkers and alchemists and all their hoardes at us and we are still holding. If we can continue being a thorn in their paw for as long as possible then we will keep them away from the other parts of the land and give Cornucopia time to send help. If we do not all commit to this then they will overrrun us still.
Istiel sighs and shakes her head hopelessly at Suuha. "Gather your strength. Tomorrow may be as difficult as today."
On the way out of the inn she is not surprised to see Rigel, but she is surprised by the woman's defeated state. Istiel has come to respect Rigel, but it drops a little- the monk thought Rigel was made of stronger stuff than the other cow-eyed villagers.
Wordlessly, Istiel returns the nod and continues out the door into the night.
--------------
The monk walks in the deary night, eyes and ears straining the limits of human perception for danger.
The warehouse looms ominously in the distance, and she hopes weapons will be easily procurable so she can continue her patrol to the silkworm grove. On approach she is immediately confused why the warehouse is boarded up, even testing the pegs in frustration. There is enough food for everyone for weeks. No reason to protect against thievery.
When the next warehouse proves the same she decides after trying the double doors it would be best to go to high hall to get answers.
Glancing up at the grey night sky, she tries to catch a glimpse of the moon to gauge the time. Instead, as a silver-lined cloud briefly shifts, she spots a silhouette against the dull sky.
Taken aback at this revelation, she slowly lowers into a crouch and watches the figure for a moment. The flying bird-thing that followed them during scouting enters her mind...
============
Istiel
============
You sit in the drizzle, willing your teeth not to chatter as the spring air drops the temperature with the Ayida Wedu's nightly death. The figure sits along the roofline not moving even an inch for many minutes. Eventually, it shifts a bit, as if uncomfortable, and then grows stone still again.
Istiel's jaw is locked together at this point, breathing steadily through her nose. When the figure shifts she tenses, prepared to see it fly off... and then nothing happens. It reminds me of my meditations. Perhaps it watches for something?
The monk begins to creep forward, cold momentarily forgotten as the excitement of sneaking up on this unknown entity consumes her. Seeing no rush, she slowly begins to climb the wet stone structure. Her fingers scrape against the cut blocks, stealing the warmth from her fingers.
She noiselessly pulls herself over the edge, staying on her stomach after she passes the lip, watching the figure. Taking to all fours Istiel creeps up on the figure, trying to discern its identity.
============
Istiel
============
You creep forward, breath held, and it is soon obvious who is on the roof - you've seen that figure, in that specific pose, countless times over the years. Back rigid, palms face-up atop his knees, Domhnall sits, looking to the north, engrossed in whatever it is the old monk is doing...
=============
Meeting
=============
Silence settles in over the table as the impact of Oios' words sink in. Telowo speaks first, his voice shaky. "We have to get our people out of here. If-"
The Garrison-Captain cuts him off, waving his hand dismissively. "Nonsense! We keep our people behind the walls, try to hold out until help arrives from farther afield. It is only a matter of t-"
It is Galton's turn to be cut off, as the Lady Bellet stands, pushing her chair from the table with a screech of its legs across the stone floor of the meeting room. Slowly she paces the room, looking around the table.
"Those of you that traveled with the Tribute to Cornucopia saw how... unsettled... the capital was, yes? And there are rumors of fetid waters to the north. We know Harper's Ferry was attacked. How do we know we are the point of the spear?"
The Lady stops, back where she started, at her seat, having paced the table. Bellet places both hands on the back of her chair and leans forward, her composure slipping for just a second, her eyes wild. "There may be no one in a position to help us."
=============
Meeting
=============
Telowo, old friend, it took all of the young monk's skill to help Drazan and I even shallowly probe the enemy's lines without being detected. There are scant few monks left to help us with that. Oios says gently to the High Priest.
To the Lady Ambala-Bennet he replies
When we were at the capital. I, and, much more dramatically, Imix, managed to raise the alarm to people in authority. Oios shakes his head Perhaps we shone our little light too late on the enemy as they worked in darkness for months.... years.. to prepare for this. But Cornucopia is not without strength.. I hold on to hope. There is no other option I can see.
"Hope does not put food in your stomachs or win your battles. How long before Shadeholme runs out of food? You should begin rationing to stave starvation." Drazan says with folded arms.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
"I believe Cornucopia was gathering its forces to defend itself. The Mayor's act provided a justification to avoid reinforcing the town."
Imix looks out for a moment, then back.
"I never suspected this depth of organisation and resources. If we could get this information back to Cornucopia, it might make the difference. The difference for Cornucopia."
He starts to stride around "Do you not see? In one day they have forced us on the defensive, shattered our morale, killed most of our defenders, deprived us of our leader and ruined our stockpiles."
He waves around, indicating the group "Without incredible actions by many, they would have breached our walls as well. We were fortunate - I should say blessed - in having survived that battle at all. But now?"
"They might press on, leaving us in their wake. In such a situation we might try to scrape up enough food to survive before they return in force."
"They might press on, but leave a force to keep us penned in. Even a small force would be enough to stop us from proper hunting or farming."
"They might set up logistic lines. Strange, I know, but I am convinced we do not fight the barbarians. We fight what conquered the barbarians."
"I dare say we will have our answer in a few days."
"Drazan is right. Food is important. The savages can survive on the bodies of the dead - is this something we would do to survive?"
"Telowo, and lady Bellet are right. We need to flee, but where could we flee to?"
"We could spend the time the food we still have allows turning every living person, man, woman and child into as much a combatant as we can, and attack."
"We could try to set up intensive farming inside the walls. Perhaps magic might make the difference."
"I see one strength. They are weak on the water, and we are strong. We could flee by river."
"This is see is the next two things we must do. First, we must ensure the people in this room, right now, are who they say they are. Secondly, we must pray for guidance. Then we can discuss plans."
Istiel exhales as she recognizes the figure, a breathy word escaping her lips- "Master?" Did he allow me to sneak up on him?
She lifts herself from her crawling stance to walk beside him, settling in the same cross-legged stance, palms facing upward to the inky night sky. "I thought you were a flying beast perched on our stores." Istiel looks to the north, trying to see whatever it is Domhnall sees.
Do you have a way for detecting a skinwalker, Suriname? Oios asks On all the rest I am in agreement.
============
Meeting
============
Telowo frowns, worry lines creasing his face. Unconsciously, he reaches out to grab hold of his staff, laying on the table in front of him, as if for comfort. "No. We will not eat the dead."
Staring hard at the Suriname before he turns to Oios, he continues. "Perhaps we can negotiate with them?"
Bellet, her hands still on the back of her chair, watches Imix throughout his speech, her head slightly cocked to the side. "How do we get information to the capital?"
The Magister cocks an eyebrow before he addresses Imix. "If you're talking about doing to me what you did to that guardsman, it isn't going to happen."
==========
Istiel
==========
Domhnall laughs, his voice light, a little slurred. "No, no flying beasts up here, warrior monk. Please have a seat. I've been meditating."
Beside your master, tipped over on its side, lies a single gourd. Domhnall points into the drizzle, towards Monk's Mound. Atop it the conflagration still rages. Though with the slightly better visibility, you can see it doesn't cover the whole of Monk's Mound. Judging by its location, the fire must be centered on the monk's practice green. Large and tall into the sky the fire stretches, almost like a willow branch, before it tails off into a black smoke that dissipates into the rain.
"Look, the fire still rages. I wonder what they are doing up there? That is what I came here to find out."
The master monk takes in a sharp breath, and for a moment, the moon breaks through the cloudy sky, and in that moment you catch Domhnall's eyes behind his flowery mask, the pupils dilated over the entirety of Domhnall's irises, blacker than an unlit root cellar.
"Beautiful..." the old man says, voice trailing off as he stares at the moon.
============
Meeting
============
A single Chasqui, stealthy and fast and a strong swimmer could slip through. We three scouts were discovered only because we attempted to take a captive before returning. Perhaps send all the runners we have by differing routes. Damballah knows we have no other messages to send and the Chasquis are not meant for fighting Oios says.
As for negotiating... who would we negotiate with? They did not bother to present demands and declare war. They just attacked. If our walls had not held they would have swept over us like a tide and had what they wished. Their magics are fueled by human flesh and sacrifice and that is what they want of us. I know you were not fond of the dark tales in our texts old friend but they are all proving to be true. You know what happens to those who try to negotiate with Kalfu.
"As for detection... Presupposing my hypothesis correct, there are no memories stolen. Most of those here have known at least one another all their life. A few simple questions about long past irrelevancies - something that would not have been reported - should suffice. I suggest we lock the door and prepare for the worst before we start."
"Long term, look for; uncharacteristic behaviour, uncharacteristic strength or speed, and of course anyone who suddenly stops using names"
"Regarding getting a message out, I would add to Oios this: I think I could take a message to the capital. I may not run fast, but I can outpace even a Chasqui in the water when I change. On the other hand, my abilities will be invaluable in surviving a siege."
"We cannot negotiate with these invaders. Better we all died, or became savages and monsters ourselves, than that we added our strength to theirs."
Galton scowls. "That's well and good, Suriname, but only three of us can be put under suspicion - and redeemed - by your 'test.' Telowo, Hamfatten, and I. You, the Shadow, the Mountain Man, the Lady - you're all outsiders."
"I'm not going to put my life at risk - to one misremembered answer, or a hidden grudge - without you doing the same. After all, if you're the assassin, framing the leadership of this town is a great way to bring it low."
The Lady Bellet shrugs. "I'm fine with it."
"Telowo is old friends with Oios, apparently. Lady Bellet has her man, and he has her. Drazan has been here longer than I, so I am sure there is some shared memories. We might need to get Texikuk or Chukix to authenticate my identity, though Oios and I have shared a few moments. Of course I could demonstrate my identity through the use of my powers, but I grant the need to prove the method."
============
Meeting
============
The Garrison-Captain nods, rising from his seat. "Very well, Suriname. Those are fair terms for everyone involved. I'll get a guard to send for Texikuk and one of the Mountain Man's 'family.'"
Istiel watches the distant flame, realizing it is not the dojo on fire- perhaps their leadership had taken up residence inside instead. "I have seen this before. It is a ritual. At the center of the flame is a flying , black, feathered and scaled beast. It is unholy and the Frozen worship it. Their leaders may have made our home their base." The last sentence was said with more than a spoonful of bitterness.
As the moon parts and the silver light shines on her master, the drug-addled eyes are all buy apparent. Something from the alchemists satchel , or his own concoction? She wasn't surprised by his state; many of the herbal remedies they create had euphoric side effects, for better or worse. It would surprise her if Domhnall was indulging for purely recreational purposes, but, given the days events she wishes there was a hot cup of chicha in her belly.
The monk turns her attention back to the fire, fruitlessly trying to spot the unbolt best within. "The frozen have completely surrounded us. They do strange things to our farms. Build outposts and bridges. Deformed creatures do their heavy lifting and bird creatures watch us from the sky. We did not make it near Monk's mound, but it would have been the same there."
She considers her next words, still in the same mediative pose, cold temporarily forgotten. "We found Scree, alive. The rest of the monks under her command are dead. I realize her reckless charge into the forest killed them all. Just as you warned me it would kill me." Istiel bows her head, taking a deep breath. "I apologize for my outburst, Master. You saved Suuha with your potions and me with your words. I had many opportunities today to die foolishly and gloriously. Your words stopped me. I became the snake in the grass. I accomplished much more and returned alive. Thank you for keeping this stubborn student alive."
============
Meeting
============
Telowo can vouch for me. I can vouch for the Lady Bellet Oios fixes the Lady with a stare. What does Moson Kahni mean to you Lady?