Unaware of the importance of the host, but impressed by what his friends know, and also fascinated by the comparative dimensions of the house, Ruadhan draws on his experience with the Fian to beat his most polite.
"Greetings Abarta and thank you for your hospitality in this somewhat inhospitable land. You have a great home, although it seems well camouflaged. It would seem my friends know of you and your deeds, which must have been great indeed, I would very much like to hear of them.
"A friend told me that you were in the neighbourhood, Abarta answers Aoife's query before greeting his guests. "I figured that, eventually, you would come knocking as you did.
"I am glad to hear that my exploits are remembered!" he continues with a smile and a bow. "Please, do come in. Eat. Drink. Be merry. There will be plenty of time to discuss your business. And in the meantime, rather than to bore you with my adventures, please do regale me with tales of yours. It has been long since we saw humans in these lands!"
As he waves his hand, a veritable feast appears on the table. Meats and fish, nuts and sweet fruits, fresh spring water and hearty beer – the table is suddenly covered with everything and anything one could want. It has been weeks since they all ate their fill and it all seems, well, too good to be true...
Daire smiles, even as his eyes wander over the feast...
Daire's grin widens.
"A bountiful banquet? This would within the means of bards of centuries past, a feast from beyond living memory!"
He moves in with barely-restrained glee and begins to tuck in.
"Abarta is a god." Aoife pointed out as she moved to take a seat, though she still only looked at the food, though she did look at Abarta out of the corner of her eye for a moment. He hadn't attacked them yet and didn't seem like he wanted to... though he did want stories... like very many here.
"Do you want what we have done since we arrived here or before?" She asked.
"Oh certainly, but bards *once* could do likewise."
Those days are gone, likely not to return. Though perhaps...perhaps I will prove the unique exception.
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"Once" Aoife echoed. "Once druids walked the lands and called this place home, once those here in this land traveled through to ours with ease, once everyday life was something as simple as cooking and cleaning." Aoife spoke as she looked at the food before her. "Once means nothing anymore... only what is."
"Once your people stole our lands and your druids forced us to take refuge in this dark and dismal realm," Abarta comments with a strained smile. He serves himself a cup of spiced wine and, standing at the head of the table, waits until they have all taken a seat to raise his glass in their honour.
"To all of you who have travelled so far. It is an honour and a pleasure for me to host you thus, and, until the winds of fate carry you home safely, you are my most welcome guests." He drinks.
"Now sit and eat. You must be starving!"
Thorun is ready to dig in, but hesitates at the strained friendliness and encouragement. Poison isn't a good way to go. He sniffs the food first.
"That too..." Aoife muttered before Abarta's speech to them. As she didn't wish to be rude Aoife began to eat and drink little bits at a time. "Abarta, which friend of yours mentioned us?" Aoife asked inquisitively. They had met few actual beings here, at least of the variety that didn't want to kill them that is.
Abarta shrugs, "Humans have not travelled into our realm for many centuries and such news gets around quickly."
"I see that you have recovered the Sword of Light," he continues pleasantly. "A word of warning: Claíomh Solais has a mind of its own. If it ended up in your possession, it is because it wished it to be so. And who knows what it intends."
"I assume that you are here for the Spear of Lugh? Why? And how did you come to know that it was here? In any case, I am afraid that you will be disappointed as it is damaged and powerless."
He takes another sip of wine...
"I am not surprised to hear that about this blade." Aoife said as she looked at the blade upon her hip. "From the moment I took up the blade I knew it wasn't just a weapon, I tried to make a connection with it but I am unsure if that worked... then again, Claíomh Solais did aid me in saving my friends..." Aoife said thoughtfully before she took a long drink from her cup.
"One of my brothers left us an item that was able to point the way to the spear. I take it the Spear of Lugh is powerless because it is incomplete, we have the piece to complete it." Aoife said honestly. She had already fought one god, and it took a great deal from her and almost killed her friend Thorun. Thus, lies could shove it. She wouldn't hold back. "There is something coming in our world. A storm if you will, I don't know what it is, and truthfully I care very little. I just want the best ability to protect those I care for from the worst of what is to come. I know that isn't the easiest thing to do, but things worth doing are hardly easy. I've learned that well at this point..." Aoife sighed when she finally finished. "So are you going to hand it over or is this going to be another fight or some do something for me agreement?"
Daire tucks in, impressed by Aoife's straightforward speech with their hosting god.
Abadar raises an eyebrow. "I appreciate the honesty," he answers. "Humans generally try to lie, cheat, and steal, so your straightforward candour is refreshing."
"I had an idea that you would come here about the spear. But I knew little else," he continues. "Now, surely you understand that I can't simply give you the Spear of Lugh – one of the most prized treasures of my people. For all things, there is a price. And for such an artifact, the price would have to be substantial."
He thinks upon it for a moment before continuing, "Show me the item that points to the spear."
Sister Cobhlaith looks to her companions for guidance.
Thorun accelerates his eating, wanting to get his fill in just in case a fight breaks out and they loose their opportunity.
Aoife motioned for the Sister to bring out the compass that lead them all this way. "My brother was left back in time." Aoife explained, "He found this and left it in his burial place for us, knowing it would be important... it's... the last thing... of his I know of." Aoife muttered as if it just hit her.
Having quietly sat and listened to the exchange whilst eating, Ruadhan stands up and moves to check on King McGovern , conscious that if Aoife may be about to lose the last thing of her brother's, she shouldn't lose her father's spirit too. The King secured, Ruadhan joins in. "Lord Abarta, I think I speak for us all when I say we are only too ready to return to our world, with the exception of homes like this, it has not been a pleasant time here for us. I will stay here longer for I must try to save my wife, and either return her to our world, or let her have a chance to be saved and redeemed by the religion I follow. My friends have decided to put aside their wish to return home for a bit longer to help me and this is why we also find ourselves trying to rescue King McGovern as well. If you have any knowledge that may help us to do this deed then we would be grateful, and to pay for this and the spear we would consider whatever you might suggest, we have little to offer other than what might be achieved by the strength of our arm or wit of our brain, so please tell us what it is that may be sufficient."
"And to be fair to us, we have no shortage of wit and strength between us.", adds Daire with a slight grin.
Reluctantly, Sister Cobhlaith hands Abadar the compass. He takes it and studies it carefully. "Your brother was a true master," he comments, impressed. He takes his time to inspect the intricate artifact before setting it on the edge of the table – dangerously close to the edge.
"I certainly would not want to fight the lot of you," he continues as he absent-mindedly toys with the compass, which teeters on the edge of the table. "But I will not part with my most prized possession without getting properly recompensed. So I find myself in a difficult situation: if I ask too much, you will attempt to take the spear from me, and if I ask too little – well, that would simply be unacceptable!"
"There is a cave not far from here. There, you will Benandonner – a great, one-eyed giant. Defeat him and bring me the Fachan's eye. Then, if the noblest among you agrees to consume the eye with me, you can have the spear."
"After that," he finishes, turning to address Ruadhan, "I may be inclined to offer advice."
"I know of Benandonner, but not of the Fachan, but I am willing to give this a try. Giant or not I will try anything to move forward. What do the rest of you think?"
Thorun shrugs to Ruadhan. "Wants us to kill this Benandonner guy? Means he can't kill him, means he's stronger than him." He takes another large bite, continuing to talk through the food. "Seems like the safest thing is just to take the spear."
"Fachans are giant beings with one eye." Aoife explained. "I remember hearing stories about them. And I know the story of Benandonnor..." She added as she thought a bit till Thorun spoke up and she sighed. "He doesn't want us to kill Benandonnor Thorun, just a one-eyed giant. Also with how things work here I doubt it is that he can't kill him but that he just doesn't want to do it." Aoife said as she reached out and placed her hand against the side of the table their host was balancing the compass upon. With her other hand she removed the piece of the spear from it. Keeping it in her hand she looked him in the eye and asked "Why do you want the eye? What good is it?" all the while keeping her hand in place so the compass wouldn't easily fall.
"Aye, I suspect that it is not the killing that would be the trouble but the consequences. Who would mourn this giant? And what would consuming the eye bring?"
"Were you not talking of killing this Benandonnor? Why us, instead of you?" He says, turning to Abarta. Casually he stands, swallowing his last mouthful of food and moving to the spear on the wall. He stares at it a moment, then reaches for it.
When Thorun threatens to simply take the spear, Abadar seems not in the least afraid or even concerned. Then Aoife reaches out for the shard, keeping her hand on the compass for fear that it should fall off the table. Abadar simply smiles.
"Benandonnor is the very one-eyed giant in question," he specifies. "And you are right: I cannot kill him. But you have the sword, and with it, you may have a fighting chance. And rest assured that there is not a single Fey in the realm who will mourn Benandonnor as he is the foulest and vilest of creatures."
"As for eating the eye ––" Abadar stops suddenly when the impossible happens just as Thorun is about to reach for the spear: Aoife's hand against the compass slips and her fingers fumble just as Abadar casually moves to stand, and she drops the compass!
It falls to the ground and breaks. And with it, so does Aoife's heart.
"Oh, no!" Abadar exclaims, kneeling quickly to see if the damage is reparable. "Perhaps I can fix it! I am so sorry! I should not have let it go!"
Aoife is on her feet the moment the compass left the table. How? How could that of happened? Her hand had been pressed against the table with only her thumb upon it... was that enough to change the balance when he removed his hand? Either way she left her seat and grabbed his hands before he touched a single piece. "Don't, it isn't your fault so it isn't yours to fix." Aoife stated as she began to pick each piece up, starting with the shard of the spear then every single piece of the broken compass. Her hands were shaking as she held back the tears of rage at herself. But she stayed focused the whole time, picking up every single shard not allowing anyone else to help. All they while muttering under her breath.
Thorun turns in surprise for a moment, then with a pained expression as he realizes their navigation tool is broken. His back was turned when it happened, but by everyone's reactions it was clear that Aoife swept the compass off the table. "Shit. Are we going to be able to find our way out of here?" He stands in place, facing the others with his back to the spear.
"The compass wasn't for finding our way out." Aoife stated, tone unreliable. "It was to find the spear." she explained. "... At least we did that much before I screwed it up...."
Daire's eyes widen as he sees Aoife somehow let the compass slip from her hands - and then shatter along with hopes of getting this matter resolved smoothly.
God and the saints will need to look out for us! Otherwise we are bound to see them soon.
"Aoife...", he begins but shakes his head as he thinks better of it.
She can do no more now. For better or worse. No sense in digging the knife in further.
He turns to the god.
"Abarta...could you fix it? The loss of the compass is a loss for us, and means we would impinge upon these lands for longer."
"I'm not sure," Abarta admits, helping to gather the pieces of the broken compass and studying them attentively. "This is strange magic, the likes of which I have not seen before. But I will try."
"Go. During your absence, I will do what I can to repair your broken compass."
"Well we can not ask for fairer than that. It appears that we have rested long enough!"
While Abarta took the pieces of the broken compass, which Aoife as very hesitant to hand over, Aoife kept the shard of the spear. After a moment she pointed something out "Without the compass we can't find our way back. It was only with the compass that we got here to begin with..."
Sister Cobhlaith shakes her head, "The compass served to find the spear. To go home, we must return to the place whence we came to this land."
"I'm aware." Aoife stated. "I wasn't speaking about finding our way home, I mentioned that to Thorun before, I mean finding the spear once we leave here." She pointed out.
"If you pay my price, then the spear is yours," Abadar promises. "I'll be here."
"I do hope this doesn't come out wrong but knowing me it will likely be very insulting so please know I don't mean this as an insult." Aoife began, and she did mean that. "But the most known story of yours... doesn't really bring about a sense of trust." She tried to explain. "You've been very kind, providing hospitality and such... But everything cost something here... I broke our compass, the only way to find that spear and it's gone! That spear is the whole reason we're here! If we lose it, and it's my fault? ... No, I can't, won't, live with that guilt too. I've already made my friends suffer too much."
"Aoife, what choice do we have but to take this chance?"
Abarta eyes Thorun warily when Daire raises other choices than to do his bidding and answers his concerns most convincingly, "The Tuatha have always been portrayed by your people as false and unworthy of trust, but we are an honourable people and our stories have been wrongly recounted. Have you ever considered that perhaps I was the one who was wronged? That perhaps it Finn McCool was not the hero that the legends say? His men stole my horse and when I retrieved it and returned home, your so-called hero hunted me down and dragged me back!"
The ancient tale recalls old wounds that have not yet healed.
"That is a fair point, Abarta. I do not intend to offend. This place is strange to us, and has made us think upon much of what we thought we knew."
"Many stories are not what they seem." Aoife began as she gave a side glace to the Sister before meeting Abarta's eyes. "The stories are enough to make me nervous around you, this place doesn't help, the way life has treated us doesn't help." She explained, however poorly she was doing. "We've been here so long, Thorun almost died when we went to get Claíomh Solais..." Aoife sighed and ran yer hand over a face. Breathing in a long deep breath she finally asking one last thing to Abarta. "Truthfully, with how those of our kind have treated you, you've good reason to be weary of us. If our roles were reversed, if the life of your own weighted upon the words of our kind, would you without hesitation take nothing more than a promise given?" Aoife tried to keep it together, she really did, but their journey had been more difficult than expected. She doubted that any of them had fully recovered from the time spend in those dungeons, hunger eating away at them. She remembered that time vividly whenever the group had a hard time finding food. "I can't be leading them to their death Abarta... I did that once and it was a miracle we survived..."
Thorun looks at Aoife, then Abarta, then Daire, then back at the spear. This is taking too damn long. He strides over to Aberta, going to a knee and staring at the creature. "I don't blame you for what the other creatures here have done to us. You're not them. Give us that same treatment, we do not bear the guilt of our race. Now look me here, right in the eye." He waits for Abarta to lock gazes with him. "We're gonna go kill this big bastard and bring you that eye, and you're going to give us the spear. No tricks, no games, no bullshit. We all walk away happy and remember this fondly. Aye?"
Abarta takes a step back — not because he is intimidated, but in case Thorun should decide to dispense with civility. ”One of you will eat the giant’s eye with me to cement the peace between us and our alliance against the evils that continue to ravage our lands. Those were my terms.”
"And we eat it, aye." He offers his palm, staring Abarta hard in the eye.
Daire watches, uncertain of how this will go.
Abarta nods and reaches out to shake Thorun’s hand. There is not a hint of malice or cunning in his demeanour and it is plain to see that the deal pleases him just fine.
Then, much to Thorun’s surprise, his hand goes right through Abarta’s!
Abarta seems a both surprised and impressed, but doesn’t miss a beat. ”Few humans ever see through the veil. Your will is strong. I hope that your resolve to honour this fair arrangement will be equally so.”
Daire's eyes dawn with curiosity.
"So Abarta, did you create this image just for us? Or do you normally stay elsewhere as a matter of course?"
There is no irritation in Daire's voice. He can appreciate a well-crafted deception.