The Father of Waters

Game Master Fighting Chicken

"Kill their wounded. Now." There is no hesitation or room for questioning in Imix's tone, though the last word is delivered quietly as he runs out of breath.
He raises his shield above his head, and a surge of healing energy floods over the field.

Drazan grabs Rheumy by his armor, lowering him to the ground slowly while sheathing his kukri. "What could have been yours, yes."

Drazan picks up the earthbreaker from the ground.

Oios nods at Imix as he leans heavily on his spear ignoring the wild ranting of the Tooyah for the moment.

Kill all save one who seems willing to talk. That one we drag back to Shadeholme. We need to know what these barbarians are doing and we need to know as soon as possible

"No!" Drazan shouts defiantly, "Only cowards kill the broken and defeated." Drazan turns and helps the man, he just put down, up.

"Do not be afraid of those weaker than you. You have the Tooyah, you have your spoils, why do you take more than what is already yours? Leave their fates to nature and their spirits."

Oios looks at Drazan quizzically. These are cannibals, raiders, and deal in evil magic. Either one is an offense for which death is the only just judgement. While in better times I would drag them all to the center of the town to face justice and public execution in the view of all the folk these are not better times. There are twenty of these fires. This is not even a raid. This is an invasion.

"This fire has been extinguished. The fires out there will not die with these men's deaths and the invasion will not stop by claiming the worst of times. These men are the way they are because they do not know what life can be." Drazan looks back to Rhuemy, "Anaisa Pye was whispering in her mother's ear this morning. It is up to you if she cries tonight."

Drazan begins speaking his native tongue to Rhuemy,

Drazan squeezes the warriors shoulder, and awaits Oios's and anyone else's final thoughts.

Istiel hands Oios his mace back before proceeding to clean up the wounded enemies. A shift stomp on their necks to crush their windpipes is the only mercy she gives them. She is clearly addressing Drazen when she speaks - "Ask the Tooyah if these cannibals deserve mercy. Let them have the crazed one to do as they wish."

Rigel lays a comforting hand on Drazan's shoulder. "They're right, Drazan. I don't like it either, but those people would destroy everything we love. Everyone we love. And they'd enjoy it. They - they cut someone up to EAT him!" she nearly throws up again just saying the words, but almost suppresses it. Almost.

Then the sound of Istiel snapping their necks intrudes on her hearing. " 'Scuse me."

Crawling into a nearby bush, she retches, pathetically. But there's nothing more to come up. "ugh..."

Drazan walks over to Rigel and places a hand on her back to comfort her and begins talking about mostly his morning in a low dull tone. His story is a bit exaggerated but it mostly drowns out the noise of the gag inducing noises. He waves Rhuemy over to keep him near.

Imix stands straight as the healing energy finishes. Phrase by phrase, seperated by gasping breaths as he draws air into his no-longer crushed lungs, he speaks:
"The fire IS out. The others ARE coming.
They have Magic. The wounded WILL fight again.
Those who saw us have information.
Information is how you win wars."

Istiel goes about her business finishing off the defeated while everyone debates ethics or whatnot.

While she is sending savages off to Legba's embrace, the monk looks for one of those gourds that one of the braves drank from. She saw his wounds heal, and was curious about the nature of the concoction inside. Hopefully it was not some dread cannibal magic, and instead an infusion of herbs she, her master, or the other monks could tease out.

After everything has settled, she addresses the group dryly. "Let us return to warn Shadeholme. We have earned much glory this hour." 1 solo kill, 3 assists. Suuha will be jealous.

She takes one last look at the other fires burning in the distance. She wonders if the government will declare war on these savages. And waht was the strange bird-like creature?

Finding no immediate answers, the monk begins to walk down the hill. "Make haste. I have morning chores today."

Rigel has no trouble slipping off into the shadows after the wounded war drummer makes a run for it. It is simply the matter of sliding a dagger into the back of his neck as he blunders through the grass, dropping the man dead to the ground. Dragging him back to the campsite is another matter, as the man is much larger and heavier than the Rigel's frame is used to carrying.

She's not the only one having similar problems either. As the rest kill the defeated and search the camp, there's a rustling to the south end of the camp, and everyone draws their weapons, fearful that there are more raiders to fight. Pushing through the grass comes Chukix, struggling mightily to drag another raider, stone dead, by the legs. Dropping the man's legs, Chukix looks quite sheepish, stooped and rubbing the bald spot on his head, covered in blood. "I circled around the side as I saw a Tooyah run through some suddenly grown grass, to find this one running right past me. I stuck a leg out to trip him and then I was going to yell for help... but when he fell, he cracked his head open on a rock. Then I - fearful for my life - I grabbed that rock and finished him off." Sure enough, the raider's head is bashed in, smashed in multiple places. "I'm really sorry, Suriname. I know you'd have liked him alive, if possible."

------------

Rheumy looks at Oios and hisses, showing teeth that are filed down to sharp points.

When Istiel goes about snapping the necks of his companions, Rheumy looks on impassively.

------------

The Tooyah stand together mute and huddled, and watch the goings on. The man with Oios' mace (who, it should be noted, has not given it back), turns to Oios, his question harsh, tinged with anger.

------------

As you examine the campsite, in addition to mundane gear, mostly poorly made stone and wood camping and cooking goods, you find a few other interesting things (or disturbing, depending on your viewpoint):

The Tooyah's wife is at the center of the bonfire, corpse blackened, mouth open in a last scream.

There is black iquor dotting the ground. Further, into the grass, you find an arrow covered with that same black iquor.

Istiel goes through the sheepskin satchel of one of the dead men, finding a stoppered gourd. The contents smell floral and antiseptic at the same time, and the concoction has the viscosity and coloration of watery yerba mate.

While Istiel cleans up, Imix starts to remove the heaviest parts of his armour. Where is Chukix?. The Suriname nods approvingly at the monk, then turns to the others
@Rigel: Again she pretends "There is not time, girl. Your mayor needs you."
@Oios: "We should return at once. Others will be coming."
@Drazan: "He is your responsibility, not your property. I will not condone slavery."
@Sarre: "Stay Sharp, hunter. If they respond piecemeal, your bow may save us."
He waves commandingly to the Tooyah, pointing first at them, then the ground next to himself.

Drazan looks harshly at Imix, angry that he would even suggest such a thing. "He is his own man and no one cares what you condone."

Imix - confronted by the tame savage - waves off Chukix's apologies. If Chukix ever dies, I'm going to use his bones to make a luck charm he notes, as Chukix helps him disrobe.

"It was a Suriname who banned slavery, long ago. It is within my power to restore it." Which would be the worst Purpose ever, probably "I know your people indulge in that practice. We do not."
Changing the topic, he directs the others
"Ask the prisoner why his people are here. Where they travelled from. Where they travel to."

When the arrow is found, he nods approvingly at Sarre "You hit it hunter. I made the right decision to trust you." there is a note in his voice suggesting that this was a sudden reversal in his opinion. "'If it bleeds, we can kill it'" he quotes.

In fairness, Rigel didn't actually mean to kill the drummer; slipping away after him was purely on instinct, to prevent him warning the others, with not much in the way of thought behind it (this gets her into trouble a fair bit). Only once she was isolated from her companions and trying to wrestle him to the ground did she realise the difficulties: he was far bigger and stronger than she. At that point, the knife was the only option.

She gratefully takes Drazan's hand and holds it while he talks to her, blotting out the noise of Istiel going about her work. When Imix addresses her, she stands up, pale, and nods. He's right.

Washing the worst of the blood off her hands, and splashing her face with cold water, Rigel goes over to the Tooyah. "Oios - please will you translate for me?" Addressing the survivors, she does her best to remember protocol. Nobody else here is likely to make a good impression; she hopes that the fact she rescued them counts for something.

"We're sorry about what happened to your friends. And family. We would like you to come back with us - our mayor will make you welcome. You are not our prisoners, but you may have information that could help us prepare against these... these new enemy. Will you accompany us?"

Tone of voice, body language, eye contact - so much of communication is non-verbal. Nevertheless, not speaking their language puts her at a disadvantage, one she is keenly aware of.

Istiel finds herself amused by Rhuemy's opinion of the current situation. His enthusiasm is certainly noteworthy.

The monk collects all of the stoppered gourds, piling them into her jute sack. She now makes a comical sloshing noise with every step, but considers the momentary embarrassment worth determining exactly what the mysterious liquid contains and if it can be reproduced.

If she has a spare moment after cleaning up, Istiel will take a sip of the substance to try and gleen some information about its contents.

Imix circles the fire, stooping and picking about in the wood, grass, and pitch, trying to recall anything from his studies about Mountain Tribe religious custom. That the fire has religious significance is clear, and bears some superficial resemblance to sacrificial burnings said to take place in Fire Peaks.

In consultation with Rigel, who can point out where the men stood (more or less, equidistant at five points), and in talk with the Tooyah, Imix is pretty sure that burning was not a summoning but rather an offering to the Thing-In-Shadow, as the Tooyah call it, which descended upon the fire and settled around the woman once she was lit.

They were unfortunately not able to get much of a good look, averting their eyes in fear and horror when it enveloped the sacrifice.

--------------

A great argument breaks out among the three Tooyah, Oios translating. The Tooyah whose wife was burned, Ogwe, wants to take her body with you to Shadeholme so that she can be sent to the water, while the other two wish to find their fellows, which Oios gleans may be as many as twenty who scattered during the attack on their campsite. In the end it is decided that the other two, the woman Alwa, tall and broad with a head of massive blond dreadlocks, and the man, Thagwe, an emaciated man with a distinct air of sadness, will look for the others and then bring them to Shadeholme, if they are able.

Ogwe takes an earthbreaker and a javelin and straps them to his back, and then gently picks up the charred remains of his wife, and tears running down his face, nods to Rigel.

---------------

Taking a small sip of the stoppered liquid, Istiel finds the taste coppery; it is not unfamiliar to the monk, similar to the taste in one's mouth after a solid sparring punch draws blood from the cheek or tongue; the concoction seems to be distilled from herbs and blood. The monk suffers no ill effects from the taste, it even feels a little pleasant, bringing a slight warmth to the back of Istiel's throat.

Istiel pauses as she recognizes the coppery taste as blood. Most likely human, given the source. If Master can determine what the herbal components are perhaps we can contact an animal blood substitute. If there is a magical component I will beseech the priest for assistance.

The stopper is returned to the gourd, and she prepares for travel. Perhaps they would make it back in time for dawn.

"Oios? Please tell them we appreciate them distracting our mutual enemy. If they can tell us their names, we will raise a memorial Cairn to them." the tone in Imix's voice leaves no doubt that these people are choosing suicide. "Now, we must go."

Oios grows incredibly impatient with the aggressive Tooyah but grits his teeth and translates Rigel's calming words. Before the other Tooyah leave though he gives them some parting advice.

He says

In the end Oios will let them make their decision though he agrees with Imix that trying to search for anyone in this situation is beyond foolish. Still, would he make a different one if he had to choose between searching for friends or running to an unknown foreign city to save his own hide?

Oios shakes his head. These were evil times indeed.

To Drazan and Rheumy he says, again shortly.

Referring to everyone he says back in their common tongue.

As soon as the war drum changed the other two score fires were alerted that this fire has been attacked. We need to flee back to Shadeholme and do it as fast as possible. I would recommend we value speed over stealth in this endeavor. We are not Chasqui but we are fulfilling a similar role now.

Alwa and Thagwe grab an earthbreaker and javelin each and look to the grass, before Alwa turns back to Oios, a grim smile gracing her face.

With that, they turn and run into the darkness.

==============

Looking back as you hit the bottom of the hill, you can just make out a series of lights, probably torches, moving about the top of the hill where the clearing and the now corpses of the raiders would be located.

Oios's direction sense turns out to be uncanny, as the old priest guides the everyone unerringly east, striding swiftly through the dead grass with little hesitation. The weather warms as you head towards Shadeholme, up and down foothills, but over time dropping in elevation, until you reach the forest. Rigel at times catches a break in the clouds above, and disconcertingly, the few visible stars blinking in and out of her vision, as a shape moves high in the sky between them and you, circling.

Turning south, instead of going straight east as Alma Slate had done to bring you here, you skirt the treeline to the Cheya River, and eventually the Cheya canal, and then you turn back northeast towards home. A circuitious route for sure, but just as fast, much of it along dirt and paved roads instead of game trails - and perhaps more importantly, the route is more habitated.

The farmsteads and hamlets along the canal are illuminated in the darkness, a lantern burning away in the night, or a person or two up and about, standing in the shadows with a bow or a spear, looking into the darkness to the west. Worry pervades the air, it seems; at a Way Point along the canal, a handful of guardsmen and tired travelers note the direction you travel from and ask you for news. Rumor at the Way Point runs rampant; armies of mountain men are said to be descending from the hills, others have been seen in sleek, long canoes built of pine making their way up the Cheya, and one old man says he heard that a squadren of wyvern riders destroyed the hamlet of Ilsy’s Creek.

A light rain begins to fall, further obscuring your vision and soaking you to the bone. At least the weather is warm for this time of year, keeping you from being too chilled as you move quickly and quietly through the early morning rain.

=================
GOZRAN 2 (MORNING)
=================

Ayida Wedu begins her rise, just the slightest color showing on the sky to the east. On you go into the farmlands surrounding Shadeholme, and then the houses of craftsmen, farmers, and hunters and then the Western Watchtower looms, the tallest building below Eel Mound, the guards waving you on towards the mound’s flat top, where the windows of the High Hall burn bright with light.

Another set of guards - five in total - stop you outside High Hall, the sergeant, a serious man named Aktuk, pulling his spear at your approach. ”Hand over the prisoners! No foreigners allowed in High Hall!” The men surround you weapons drawn, and Aktuk looks to you, almost pleading, his eyes going wide at the sight of the Mountain Man, and even wider at the Tooyah, Ogwe, carrying his dead and burned bride. ”We can’t let these men anywhere near the Lord Mayor!”

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On the way
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Imix's form under the armour is strange: swollen muscles, roughened skin, strange face. It clashes strangely with the fortune in jewellery he wears. He gives the retreating Tooyah a cold stare as they turn, and nods to them as they go.

He keeps up a good pace, despite his load. His eyes are as often on the sky as on the ground.

He respectfully offers to spell Ogwe with his wife. Whether done out of concern for the enormous man, or concern he would slow them down, he does not say.

When they reach the Cheya river, he gives a sigh of relief - one of the few signs of distress he has given on the whole trip. Once they finally start to reach civilised lands, he resumes his normal form.

He grits his teeth at the delay at the way point, but does not protest. He explains, quickly and simply, what they know. When he asks for information and is given rumours he becomes impatient.

"I think we should push on. If it takes a day or two to recover, so be it. The news is more important."
"Oios. Please ask - what was his name? Ogwe? If he wishes to rest, or will come with us."

When the sun rises he nods and slows a little "No strange black birds in the dark now. We should question Ogwe and our prisoner now. We can talk while we walk. Istiel, make sure our friend does not kill the mountain man if he becomes angry."

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Shadeholm
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"Are you threatening me, sergeant? I am sure you have orders. I am sure you have been on duty through the night. We have run for a full day, attacked a small army and wounded a spirit of the darkness. We have bought these men here. They are ours." he gestures at the Mountain man "That one is our prisoner." Continuing, he puts a protective hand on Ogwe's shoulder "This one is a guest."

He looks at the others "If we are to be treated this way, I say we retire for food. The Mayor can find us when he is ready." He turns away from the soldier and looks at meaningfully at Rigel.

Before leaving

Rigel looks blank as the Tooyah and Oios engage in a discussion, before two of them leave. Huh? She'd told them they weren't prisoners, but she'd expected them to tag along - it was the sensible thing to do.

She badgers Oios into providing a translation of what they said, and nods. OK. Vengeance for lost loved ones. Anaisa Pye would understand that. She makes a face: she's not sure how to explain her own actions. She killed - no, murdered, it wasn't a fair fight - two men today; her hands are still sticky with blood, despite her best efforts.

Not being formally trained, Rigel has no intellectual understanding of religious concepts such as guilt, atonement and repentance. She does however have an intimate relationship with the Intimate Goddess (whose commandments are simple: Live. Love. Delight.) and doesn't have to be a genius to know that she needs to say sorry. Sooner, rather than later.

===========
Shadeholm
===========

Rigel shakes her head at Imix's suggestion. "Don't, Suriname. The mayor has to accept that his authority over you is not absolute, but if he thinks that we are taking advantage of it, he will make everyone's life unhappy." She is quietly exasperated: nobody in this little group seems to understand how you deal with authority. You certainly don't defy it head on, as that stupid woman did this - no, wait it was yesterday - morning. You smile at it, you befriend it; you let it think you're harmless, or better still, harmless and useful; and you work around it.

Moving to the front, she addresses Aktuk properly. "Sorry, Sergeant - we've been up since yesterday morning and we attacked the enemy last night. Nerves are frayed - you know how that goes. But these people aren't prisoners - they have information. I know the mayor, and believe me, he'd rather hear things from them direct than through someone else. Will you take us to him?"

Imix smiles quietly to himself. Yes. Her loyalty - and her connections - are clear when she is forced to it. I must congratulate the mayor when we are alone. I wonder how the sergeant's orders regard her?

Imix waves dismissively - though after she has passed "Very well. I would not have the mayor take out his anger on those I have fought beside. If you can convince this man that our information is more important than his orders, so be it. I will not give these men up though. Assurances have been given."

Istiel trudges on through the night, silent and uncomplaining about her sore body and flickering mind. She was tired, but no one had to know. Vigilance kept her steady- they could be attacked at any moment, and she would be ready to meet their foes in any form. The monk kept thinking I wish I was blessed with darksight as if it would do anything.

---------------------
Shadeholme
---------------------

The next morning she stands grimly, silently, with the others below the Western Watchtower, her masked face taking on a contradictory rosy glow in the morning light. Her hazel eyes show a bit of fatigue, but it is tinged with annoyance. Istiel was clearly just waiting to be released from duty so she could return to Monk's Mound- the fate of the Tooyah and Drazen's mountain man were of no concern to her, and the message of an impending attack had surely already been delivered by Salty. I will miss morning sparring at this rate.

Oios relaxes as well as the river comes into view but remains tense as they pass the unknowing people who have no idea of what is happening. Take only your necessities. Seek safety in Shadeholme as soon as you are able. Spread the word. he informs them. He knows he is spreading panic but they farmers needed to move fast. There was no force of people that would be able to offer any resistance to the number of Mountain Men they had seen and any delay would just put them at the mercy of their foul magic. There was just no time to wait for any official decision from the mayor.

**

At the Way Point he relay the same message. He claps the guardsmen on the shoulder Keep an eye out. It is important that Shadeholme know if the Mountain Men come this way. If the numbers are overwhelming than retreat. All men will be needed to buttress Shadeholme's defense should such an evil time come.

**
As they get close to Shadeholme Oios shifts his stride to walk close to Drazan. Looking the warrior over he considers what to say and then begins.

I.. admire your devotion to the mistress of love but it may be misplaced here. Have you heard the story of how Ayida-Wedu failed twice but her first failure saved creation?

These are not the times of Anaisa Pye Drazan. Damballah will that they return soon but they will not unless we follow Marinette's example. Kalfu cannot be stopped otherwise.

Oios stops speaking lapsing into silence and watching to see how Drazan would respond to the story.

Shadeholme

Oios leaves Rigel to deal with the guard and says to Ogwe

Drazan marching along at his casual speed, similar to when he was leaving town, except this time he is ushering the Rheumy to stay in front of him most of the way. When Oios takes effort to convince Drazan of the why behind what happened after the battle, Drazan listens though the non-verbal cues such as nods or mumbles of acknowledgement are absent, as they always are.

When Oios finished his story Drazan speaks, though his eyes are locked forward and focused on ushering the man he defeated in battle. Drazan's tone is relaxed, thoughful, but still intense. "Follow any god's example as you choose. You've made your choice and you'll make many more. Anaisa Pye chooses her own path, even in the face of your Kalfus and Anaisa Pye can not become your Marinette when it is the worst of times. Look to Marinette as you and you alone see fit, but accept the consequences, just as savages must accept theirs." Drazan finishes by slapping Oios on the shoulder, giving him a solid squeeze followed by a reassuring look.

Ogwe, as Oios suspected, hails from the far north, near the lake from which the Father of Waters draws. He tells his story as the group walks, Oios translating. His people are - were, he corrects himself, with some bitterness - fishers and foragers mostly, who migrated the marshes in reed boats and rafts, staying atop dry hillocks from time to time, and when winter set in, they’d reside in stilt villages at good fishing spots, and then break those structures down again when the spring thaws would come, piling their homes on their rafts and boats, and begin the seasonal migrations again.

So it was for generations, a people stuck in time almost, changing with the seasons, but otherwise not all, except for the changes of life - age and death, and birth, and it was this change that Ogwe and his bride most looked forward to, the coming of children with the seasons to be.

But, Ogwe’s generation was cursed, so the man says, spitting with disgust. A few years back, the smell of sulfur more pronounced within the marshes, the waters brackish. Ogwe’s traveling village had to range farther and farther each season, much to the displeasure of their neighbors - all were seeing the effects of the blight around them; the plantlife dying, the fish becoming scarce.

And then the raids started. Mountain men, bearing the trademark red hair and beards of the Fire Peaks, a few at a time at first, and then larger in number, plying long war canoes, made their way through the stagnant waters. Stories of Tooyahs being attacked and drug off to the mountains, until one day they weren’t stories. The raiders came just before Ayida-Wedu’s rise, drifting silently through the marsh, and Ogwe’s traveling village was ill-prepared for what came with them.

Thirty survived the raid, and made their way south, skirting between the Takayah villages and the mountains to the west, almost as fearful of Takayan intolerance as they were of the Mountain Tribes' violence.

Eight died on the way, due to the lingering effects of their wounds, before the traveling village was scattered at the campsite near Shadeholme. If Alwa and Thagwe are successful in finding their friends and family, they will continue on to the Blighted Valley to the south, and then, the Father of Waters willing, onto the rumored lands of bounty beyond that.

Looking to Oios, Ogwe gives a deep and grateful nod.

Ogwe shakes his head.

=====================

The Rheumy-eyed raider happily talks with Drazan as you move along the Cheya, not seeming to think that the others can understand them, or perhaps he just doesn’t care.

”I have no name,” he says, when Drazan asks what he is called. ”I am the defeated. You get the honor to name me, when I earn it, man from Fire Peaks.”

The Rheumy has a had a long and wonderful life, by the standards of his people. Alive for over roughly forty winters, he has sired four sons and two daughters. All his sons have died with honor, the man tells Drazan, except the third, which the Rheumy had to kill in a dispute. The second, Rheumy tells you with distinct pride in his voice, made a pilgrimage to Fire Peaks to fight in the slave pits there, and won seven bouts before he was gutted by a stronger opponent, dying a shameless and beautiful death. "I could spot that fighting style anywhere," the Rheumy says, grabbing Drazan's arm fondly.

His daughters have sired many sons, which is their purpose.

His people are called, loosely translated into Tkoyah, Rippers of Flesh. They are a powerful tribe in the western reaches of the western spur of the Teeth of the World, known for their filed teeth which they use to tear into the flesh of their defeated while they're still alive - an act that instills great fear and respect among the other Mountain Tribes, with which they have squabbled as long as there have been the people of the mountains.

Last year, a traveling priest from Fire Peaks came to the villages of the Rippers. The priest was a tall man with hair that seemed to flicker with flame when he moved, and he traveled with a creature strange and wondrous - part bird, part reptile. Often cloaked in darkness, as if the creature pulled the light from the world around it, the creature spoke only with the priest.

When the next thaw comes, the priest said, head east into the foothills of the mountains and camp. Raid the lizard-f$$%ers there, take captives, offer them to the Thing-Within-Shadows. Instil terror among the villages below the mountains. And wait…

And so the Rippers have done. The Rheumy eyes Drazan’s companions.

=====================

Outside High Hall

The Sergeant looks from his guardsmen to Rigel to Imix, to Rigel and the guardsmen again, and decides not to push his point. By the entrance of the High Hall stands a large wooden drum, wood-framed and stretched with deer-skin. Aktuk takes a large wooden drumstick, wrapped with cloth, and raps it against the drum four times, two quick taps, then two drawn-out ones.

Within minutes, the Lord Mayor appears at the entrance. Aktuk takes him aside and they have a whispered conversation, backs turned, the Sergeant every now and then nodding his head.

Eventually, the men turn, and the Lord Mayor addresses you. ”Telowo’s traveling priest - take the Tooyah south two bends in the canal. Turn west at the copse of woods and head about two minutes straight west. You’ll find a small pond there, where the man’s wife can be put to rest. Join us when you are done. The rest of you - even the prisoner - upstairs, in the council meeting room.”

=====================

On the third level of High Hall is a meeting room, in which much of the business of town is decided. The room itself is sparse - bare limestone floors and walls, with brackets bearing torches are the only decoration, a fireplace and simple woolen rug on the floor to keep the room warmer in the cold months. The center of the room is a large rectangular wooden table, around which twelve chairs sit. This morning, there are only three occupants; Lord Mayor Gilders, Excise-Head Texikuk, High Priest Telowo, and Malta Tolita, the Chief Engineer. Absent are the Garrison-Captain Galton Tyrill and the Head Magistrate, Bertram Hamfatten. Tyril’s absence is alarming; it means that he and the men he led out to Harper’s Pond have yet to return. Hamfatten’s absence is merely perplexing.

The fireplace is going, but the fire low, rather than warmth its purpose to warm a large stone kettle placed within the hearth. The Lord Mayor bids you to fill a nearby earthenware cup with mate and be seated.

Gilders looks weary; obviously he hasn’t slept. No one else at the table looks much better. ”Well then,” the Gilders says, looking to you all and coughing raggedly before taking a sip from a large clay mug. ”What is your report? When Salty came this morning, I sent him, Hamfatten, and some others to find you. Did you not cross paths?"

Istiel is unmoved about the loss of the nomadic Tooyah. They have no one but themselves to blame- their lack of ability to defend themselves brought about the current situation. The strong survive, and the weak perish. Of course, she says nothing.

------------------------

Istiel is powerless to stop listening to the rheumy-eyed man talk. She tries to block it out, but she knows the words, and the strange dialect just makes her concentrate more to overhear him. Rippers of Teeth. The name tickles the back of her mind, and memories of a story around a huge bonfire come to the surface. The terrible tribe was equally feared and respected among... the savages... but she had killed them all the same. More glory. Excellent.

When the monk is mentioned she has to stop from stiffening, and continues to walk in silence. Behind her mask, lips curl into a sadistic smile. Oh, Marinette. Please, let him try. She thinks, before realizing she is acknowledging the savage's tongue in her mind. Taking a deep breath through her nose, the war monk exhales slowly, attempting to blank her mind of these thoughts.

-------------------------

The monk drops her satchel on the floor next to her chair, and it sloshes curiously. She takes a seat and wonders of Tyril's absence. Were they caught by the raiders? No, surely not. Delayed, perhaps.

The offer of mate is too good to pass up, and she calmly pours herself a mug full before reseating herself. Istiel reaches behind her head and loosens the bottom-most strap that holds her mask on, unrolling some tucked fabric to create a short veil in front of the bottom portion of her face. She sips her drink slowly, mask tipping upward and veil bulging outward every time the cup is brought to her lips.

Istiel says nothing at the moment, not wanting to extend the meeting any longer than necessary. She is confident the others will explain the situation, and will judge if their words are satisfactory.

Rigel is beyond tired right now: bone-weary exhaustion is just around the corner. She gratefully accepts the cup of mate, pouring herself another one to keep the chill out (she hates the cold).

Still, this is her environment; this is where she thrives. Keeping her eyes open and her wits about her, she does her best to gauge the mood of the room (and in particular of Gilders); and of what's going on. At the same time, she does her best to provide a complete account of the events last night, not holding anything back. They did well and should be acknowledged as such.

"...and I have to agree with Oios - this looks like an invasion, not a raid. And we didn't cross paths with Salty; we came back by a more direct route. Do you want us to go back and look for them?"

Oios pours himself a cup and one for Ogwe as well.

Rigel's summary is accurate in all respects he says If we believe what Ogwe says of what has befallen the Tooyah, and there is no reason not to, then the mountain men are now united and have been planning this for at least a year if not more. And all this time we were unaware. Either we prepare for a siege or we flee. We must choose now. I do not know what kind of dark magic they are sacrificing to but it must be strong to have brought such unity to a people who enjoy warring on each other. And what forces are here that could meet more than a hundred of them in the open?

"Rigel is, perhaps, too humble in her recounting." Imix looks tense "Has the Excise gone out?" He pauses, then bows and continues.

"Mayor, the decision as to whether to stay and fight, or run for safety, is yours. I predict it will be the deciding factor in how you are remembered. I cannot help you to make it - I am Suriname - but I can reiterate some of the points covered."

"One - the people we passed have been told to flee here, and warn their neighbours."

"Two - this is possibly related to the raid two night ago - in which case the men sent on that attack are probably dead."

"Three - the Mountain Men are excellent at moving without being seen. They have passed us by without detection, and quite possibly have small camps set up around here to stop messengers and support. Depriving an enemy of intelligence, mobility and logistics are excellent tactics during a war."

"Four - thanks to Sarre, we have a small amount of blood from this dark, demon-god of theirs. Given time I may be able to deduce more about it."

"Five - this was planned in advance. Possibly to raid the Excise, possibly to catch the towns with the least food."

"Six - the Mountain Men have an advantage in sieges in that they will eat their own dead."

"Seven - these priests who command the Mountain Men are an unknown. We do know they have links to dark forces. We also know they are capable of planning and unity - two virtues the Mountain Men do not have. Civilisation's successes to date have often capitalised on this weakness."

"Eight - the Mountain Men were told to do this and then wait. That suggests they are attempting to cause a particular reaction. More accurately, that their priests are."

"Nine - the Tooyah talk of the waters failing them at the same times the Mountain Men started attacking. This suggests a link, though whether the failing waters push the Mountain Men, or the Mountain Men somehow cause the failing waters I do not know. I do know the loss of aquaculture could prove disastrous for this place."

"Lastly - do not doubt divine providence. You have been granted not just a Suriname in these terrible times, but a Suriname who has studied the arts of war. With time and preparation, I can be as useful as twenty more men."

He closes to the mayor's chair "I offered my jewellery to spare you a hard decision. I regret that it is no longer within my power. Here and now, yours is the right to rule, and I respect that right." anger - or frustration - crawls over his face for a moment "My Purpose has not been revealed, at this time, but I can offer my support until it is."

=====================
It is quick work, the burial of the Tooyah woman. The pond is easy to locate, and taking some large rocks, Oios helps Ogwe weight his wife down. Standing silently for a moment, the Tooyah nods. ”The crocodiles will return her to the water. It is not home, but it is a beautiful spot.”
=====================

Imix finishes speaking and a great and deep silence settles over the table, the leadership deep in thought, until Telowo staring hard at his hands, says simply, ”Worrisome. Worse than we thought, I’m afraid.” Texikuk, looking askance at the Mayor, then speaks, her voice barely a whisper. ”Lord Mayor, perhaps we should leave as early as possible for Cornucopia?”

Sitting in contemplation for a few more seconds, Gilders nods in agreement, before addressing Oios’ question. ”What forces indeed, Telowo’s traveling priest? Half our garrison has been gone now a day, and five more this morning. Damballah only knows when - or if - they will return. That leaves fifteen soldiers and five warrior-monks to protect a town of seven hundred. Many of the able-bodied can be formed into a militia, but I wouldn’t expect them to hold against the barbarians from the west, and I’d hate to ask that of our people.”

“Texikuk, you will go immediately to finish preparing the tribute for journey to Cornucopia, with the aim to leave tomorrow. Make your staff work all night, if needed. Matla, get the engineers together, figure out where the weak points in our transportation system are, what would be most easily exploited in case of...” Gilders pauses for a moment, unsure if he wants to say the word. ”Invasion."

"Telowo, put the word out at service this morning, that we need volunteers to leave tomorrow to take the tribute to Cornucopia, and to guard it. Let the Takayah at service know that as soon as the tribute leaves, our citizens can bring their possessions and families to Eel Mound. Valuables will be kept in the warehouses and watched over by Texikuk’s excisers, and all public buildings will be opened to anyone that needs shelter. Let everyone know that we expect members of surrounding communities to come here as well. Our population could sweel in the next few days. Remind everyone to be hospitable. I suspect that you will have record attendance at service today, High Priest."

"Sarre, please spend the day visiting with the hunters and the foragers that remain at camp and in the outskirts, and let them know that they and their things are welcome at Eel Mound. Spread the word among the farmers that they are recalled. You four, go now, do what I have asked. The rest of you, please stay a moment longer.”

=================

Once Telowo, Texikuk, Sarre, and Matla have made their exit, Gilders stares long and hard across the table at you, and especially at the Rheumy, who himself stares, arms crossed, at the ceiling, bored to near catatonia. Eventually, the Lord Mayor turns to Drazan. ”You understand that the prisoner can’t be allowed to simply walk around Shadeholme, correct? The panic it would cause, the potential for violence, it is too much. Aktuk will take him into custody as soon as you leave this building, and the prisoner will stay in custody for the foreseeable future. The, what does he call himself, a Ripper? He will not be given a Takayah’s death, but he will be given death. There are no accommodations to be made with the Mountain Tribes.”

Again he looks around the table, to each of you. ”Suriname Imix, I’ve thought about your proposal, and I will accept. I’d like you to accompany Texikuk to Cornucopia, and assist our Excise-Head when she makes her presentation, and help the king understand her explanation why the tribute is not as reported. Make the offer in trade when he objects, as he will, out of principle. You said it yourself - he will want to make an example.”

The Mayor takes a drink of mate, and pacing the room, continues. ”Normally, Telowo accompanies the tribute, to ask Damballah for blessing on the journey and to ensure the arrival of the Tribute - as well as our people - safely. I cannot send him this time, for I need him here to oversee the needs of our people if Marinette brings her curse, and I’ll need his healing if the Garrison-Captain and his men return with some hurt or dead. Oios, I ask you to attend on his behalf. He trusts you, and thus so do I.”

“I also cannot spare many soldiers, and so I will ask for volunteers, but I hope that you, Drazan, and you, Istiel, will go with the tribute - you’ve proven yourselves brave, and I know that you will do what you can to protect the bounty of our town.”

Sighing, the Mayor looks to Rigel, worry for a brief moment crossing his face. ”You have a keen mind and a disarming way. We need soldiers, as soon as possible. Texikuk will give the report, but though Tex is a fine and skilled exciser, she does not have your way with people. Assist her, as my voice. Make the case for soldiers, as many as the king can spare, to come to Shadeholme.”

Gilders stands, and takes appraisal of you all one last time. ”I ask you to volunteer, once again on behalf of our people. If you accept, you will accompany the tribute to Cornucopia on the morrow. Secure an early audience with the king, as you should arrive a day or so in advance. Beg his forgiveness, offer him Imix’s proposal in apology, and then beg him again, for soldiers.”

“Friends, will you volunteer?”

Volunteer? After the last demonstration when the girl refused to volunteer?

Drazan turns to Rheumy, addressing him in Abyssal, "It seems you will die nameless one. They give you death out of their fear and their justice. Their justice demands your life to balance the violence of your past. You must choose to either accept their justice and die or prove your way to survival."

Turning to continue to the mayor, "Prisoners are not free and the tribute will be protected."

Rigel nods, looking determined - and also relieved not to be doing any more killing. "You'll have your soldiers." Even if I have to bed each of them personally to get them here. It shouldn't come to that, of course: get the officers on side and their men will do as they're told.

She stifles a yawn. "Ugh - should take Iseult with me, it'll be one less mouth for you to feed here; with your permission?"

================
Drazan
================

The Rheumy smiles, still staring at the ceiling.

The Rheumy speaks with the conviction of one completely and totally assured of his place in the world. Insane or just a garden variety zealot, it doesn't matter - the end result is the same; confidence bordering on delusion.

===============
Rigel
===============

The Mayor shrugs. "We will be asking for volunteers. If she wishes to go to Cornucopia, then that is her decision to make."

"You look tired. You should rest - things won't get easier."

Imix seems to relax as the Mayor's instructions continue Ah, of course. This is the prelude to my Purpose. Perhaps I lead some army out of Cornucopia. he catches himself mentally and revises his though advise some army.
He begins to bristle when the Mayor insults Texikuk's skill with people - then shakes his head knowingly. Still do not trust me? I suppose it is reasonable to send your assassin with me. She'll do little good in a siege.
"Of course, Lord Mayor. Rigel's comment is very... practical." there is a disapproving tone in his voice "If you send those who cannot do anything but eat with us, Cornucopia will have to feed them. I suggest calling them 'Hostages'. I also suggest that where possible those who have been travelling hard for the last twenty-four hours get their rest before we leave."

Oios nods I fear I am being given the easier task. The days ahead for Shadeholme will be trying ones. But I will go in Telowo's stead. May I suggest that we spread the news of what has happened to this area ahead? The Chasqui can spread information very quickly through their order and this warrants it more than any event I can remember. Thus far the Mountain Men have gathered their strength in stealth and secret and the best way to combat that is by shining the light of Ayida-Wedu right on them. I pray that we are not too late.

Oios pauses for a second May I recommend that the fisherwoman who did not volunteer earlier be given a second chance?

Istiel pauses as she is asked to volunteer to take the tribute to the capital, taking a sip of mate while she thinks. I wanted to study these blood draughts with the master, but I have no choice here. Three years since I was in the capital. It will be good to visit the monastery again.

"I will go." The monk answers simply. Placing her empty cup back on the table. She affixes her mask back in place, folding her hands in her lap.

The Ripper continues to be a source of amusement. Pity she will miss him swinging on the rope, as he finally comprehends his defeat.

Gilders regards Oios for a second, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"Very well. Korya will be offered another chance to volunteer. Perhaps she'll see her value to our community differently this time."

Taking a ledger from his desk, the Lord Mayor writes five lines on separate sheets of paper, and passes one to each of you. "Take these to Texikuk at the Tribute House. You are welcome to use them to obtain some supplies."

Each sheet, scrawled in the Mayor's simple rune-writing, says:

The bearer of this document is entitled to equipment in value up to, and not to exceed, 200 gold stones, by the order of the Lord Mayor, Halton Gilders.

Gilders then stands and gives you all a quick nod. "Best of luck to you. May your journey to Cornucopia be successful."

============

Outside, Aktuk and the guards jump the Ripper and wrestle him to the ground, before tying him as one does a hog to be slaughtered. Breathing heavily, the Rheumy looks to Drazan and smiles, but offers no resistance.

Oios raises his eyebrow but nods at the Mayor. Thank you. May the gods aid us all as we work together to get through these trying times

Drazan approaches Oios after watching the mountain man accept his death at the hands of the fearful, "Oios, why do you ask for all the gods' aid when you say the time is for Marinette?" Drazan's question seems truly sincere, however obtuse it might be.

Istiel takes the paper, her eyes quickly scanning over the line. What shall I do with this? Later. I must return to Monk's Mound.

The note gets neatly folded and placed in her belt pouch. "Damballa watch over you and Shadeholme, Lord Mayor." One of the eleven words she has spoken since entering the high hall.

The monk spares a parting glance for Drazen's captive. Denied a warrior's death. A pity- I would have given it to him.

She begins walking out of the high hall and down the steps leading to the north. Her eyes wanders over the buildings looming over her, the pleasantly ordered civilization. Mostly everyone is fed, clothed, and has a purpose. I will not see this great way of life fall to the machinations of savages. Not while this body's heart beats.

Istiel makes her way to Monk's mound, and even though she feels weariness behind her eyes, she presses on. There was too much to do, and besides, she had been denied sleep before on countless occasions as punishment for bouts of rash behavior in the past. This was nothing.

As Rheumy is taken, Imix physically stands in Rigel's way.

"We need to talk. Now. Alone."

Rigel's eyes gleam, the fatigue suddenly banished by the thought of a scrip for 200 backed by the mayor himself. She's about to skip off and spend it, when she finds her way blocked by Imix. Raising a curious eyebrow, she follows him: she's slightly scared of the Suriname, but her curiosity wins out over any caution. It almost always does.

Once all of that is finished, she really has something to do. Her feet hardly seem to touch the ground as she speeds away.

...

..

.

There is, hidden on the outskirts of town, a shrine to Anaisa Pye. It's not in a place of natural beauty: Shadeholme doesn't have many of those. It is instead, in tribute to her other qualities, out of the way, the entrance hidden within an overhang caused by a long-fallen tree. You'd not find it by accident.

This is Rigel's destination. She - uncharacteristically - hesitates at the entrance, shuffling from one foot to the next. Can she really go in with blood on her hands? Not to mention on the hems of her clothing and her knives. Nobody is around at the moment - she lets her knives fall to the ground; her outer garments follow.

Stepping within, her eyes adapt readily to the gloom, seeing it as if it were daylight. No need to light one of the many candles. At the far end is a carving of the winged serpent, a large wooden bowl of rainwater, and a clay jar of scented oil. Silent, Rigel crouches down before the water bowl, scooping it up in her hands before washing them, over and over. She splashes her arms and her face, shivering as the droplets trickle down her bare back. She sits, cross-legged, waiting; face wet and eyes brimming with salt tears.

She has nothing to say, she suddenly realises. She has killed, and would do so again in the same circumstances. Carved into the wall beneath the serpent is Anaisa Pye's command: Live. Love. Delight. Is it enough that she took no delight in the killing? That she sees no glory in it? That she killed those who delight only in war, in cannibalism? She doesn't know. She's not even sure if those are the right questions. What if Oios is right, what if these truly are no longer the days of Anaisa Pye?

"Foolishness. Some might war for glory; but some will go to impress their beloved, or fight better for knowing they are favoured." The voice is Rigel's, although the intention to speak was not. She nods, and then smiles. She has her answer, although it will take time to think about.

Taking the jar of scented oil, she pours a little - sparingly - onto her hands and rubs it in, starting with her shoulders and her neck.

...

..

.

=====================
Istiel
=====================

You arrive to Monk’s Mound in time to see the morning’s sparring come to an end. The other young warrior-monks stop and watch you, warily almost, reserved certainly, waiting to see what you have to say. Sequestered up here, they are perhaps the only people in Shadeholme oblivious to the rumors flying about.

Domhnall is not so reserved, however. Laughing, he beckons you closer. ”Istiel, you walk with purpose, but then you always do.”

“Tell us what you’ve seen, but be quick about it. I understand you have the others’ chores to do?”

====================
Rigel
====================

==================

The rain dies off by mid morning and as Ayida-Wedu rises, so does the temperature, the air muggy and again unseasonably warm. Afternoon comes, and with it the drizzle again, and as the sun climbs ever higher, Salty, Hamfatten, and the other volunteers arrive back in town. Rumor quickly circulates; it seems they went back to your hillock, which from a distance seemed quiet, so the group approached stealthily through tall, new grass ten feet high. At the hill-top more of the grass was found, trampled and tangled within the old growth from last winter, and the corpses of five men were spaced around a large firepit, the center of which contained the corpse of a sixth mountain man, posed in death as to be sitting, two small drums in his lap. The whole area smelled of pitch, as if it had been staged for a great confligration, and the group made the quick decision to return to camp. But not before counting the cookfires in the distance, twenty-seven in total, tendrils of smoke wending upward into the cloudy morning sky.