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Mal follows. He nods in courtesy at Samir. "I've heard worse names for a mount. I used to know a guy who called every horse 'Horse'?'
Mal takes a moment to smooth his mustache, as of one performing a long-used nervous habit, though the movement is as fake as the mustache.
"AhHa! My friend Talar, I -excel- at attracting attention. And you want me to swim about in the red-light district, as it were, and lull down their guard, until I am asking around for a rescue, but it doesn't look like I'm asking around for a rescue, because everyone knows I'm a dirty, filthy-minded pig who is only looking for a good night, but the -right- good night.
Is that the gist of it?
Yes I can do this! And I must traipse about the houses of comely and beautiful women to do this? Well, you drive a hard bargain....
Now, can we talk specifics? Are you at least certain that she has been forced into the flesh trade? Betimes, it is not so unusual if she is. Once kidnapped, many women are sold into such houses, soon kept in fetters of either the iron or, more usually, of mental chains, force-fed lotus until they can not dream of leaving the source of their addiction. Can you imagine!? Your soul despises your slavery, but your body will scream if you are now deprived of the thing you did not want in the first place!"
Mal winds down, realizes to put bluntly the tortures his sister might endure may not be the best thing. "I say this only so you know that recovery may be difficult. Or, worse, she may not want to leave, or even cooperate, and we shall have to carry her bodily away while she screams for her guard."
Mal taps his cheek in ulfish thought.
"But I may have a way around that, an' it come to it.
Is that all you have? That she is a whore--erm, ah--that she is held captive in a brothel? Do you know she is in this city? Or at least held in thrall to a slave-master that has at least presence here? I certainly hope so.
When do we start? Is now good? If you have some abode we could retire to I could disguise you as my man-servant. That way you could be with me all the way.
Ah, and of course there is the minor detail--what is your sister's name and what does she look like? That may be important.
What say you?"
Talar nods to his summary of Talar's plan. "Indeed. Instead of searching and kicking down doors, which I have found is largely fruitless, we will plant honey and wait for them to come to us." Despite his nervousness and caution, he does manage a dryly amused smile. "Yes, as part of this cover you will be traipsing around enjoying the red light area of the city."
When Mal suggests the other situations his sister may be in, Talar stiffens. "No, I am not entirely certain where she is. It's possibly she's not even in the area anymore. If that seems to be the case, then this may turn into more of a "Tell me where she's been taken and I won't break your leg" kind of mission."
Talar shakes his head, sighing. "I know so little about where she has gone." He takes a deep breath. "She is a native of these lands, just slightly on the shorter sight, thin but hardy, and with a sharp jawline. She keeps long hair that grows curly at the end, and has dark green eyes." He points to the left side of his forehead. "She has a small scar here, faint and not obvious, but clear to see if you are close to her. Her name is Aisha." He finishes quietly.
"I...do have an abode that we can operate out of. But there are others you would need to be introduced to first, as this would involve them. We will not start immediately, a number of my allies are keener of mind than I and can help to create a more cunning plan than I can alone."
"So...we can return now. I know they are busy with other work at the moment and I'm unsure of when they may return, so we may have to wait. If you have other business we can meet later."
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"Ah. Well, as the fates will it. I am equally adept at going in hard as soft. As entertaining as the soft path is, hard is quicker, and betimes is all that is left if the lord of the manor is, ah, reluctant to part with knowledge that we are quite sure he has."
Mal continues to spin his odd piece of metal between his fingers, not so fast to cause distraction, but quick enough to display the nimbleness of his fingers.
Was it a trick of the light? Did the stick become a dagger? No, it's just a stick now, but surely the light glinted off a keen blade for a moment? Perhaps this was some palpable sign, however slight, that beneath his foppish exterior he has steel enough to get the job done.
"That is a very good description you have, and she is far from the local run-of-the-mill trollop. Ah fine, soft creature, I've no doubt.
I am confident we shall have little trouble finding her! Or, at least, if she is in the city or no, we will know of it!"
Mal nods inwardly. In took no keen eyes to see that the man cared deeply for the girl. It was in many ways admirable. In all the world he could not, himself, think of someone he would look for so deeply, no matter the cost, no matter the risk. 'Twas something rare and precious, to have something worth living for.
"Tra-la-la, friend Talar. I would not put off this course. A task once begun is half done, and for us to part now would allow the winds of fate to play havok. If you have no trouble housing so humble a personage as myself until your friends arrive, then I have no trouble waiting for them!
I doubt they can come up with a better plan than this, for it seems solid on all fronts. And indeed, 'tis not their family lost, nor their coc--urm, ah, their 'skin' that will be thrust into the red light scene.
Still, as you have vouched for them, I promise to at least listen."
'He didn't say if he's one to offer a guest wine. I should probably chalk that up to nervousness for the mission. But all powers preserve me from throwing in with a dry moralist. Talking is thirsty work, be it a brothel or temple, and I'd druther not meet new people with empty stomach and parched throat."
"Ah, these people we're meeting, are they friends or servants? Will they be coming back from market, or is thy abode already stocked with provisions? We can swing by the bazaar if you have bare shelves. And I could loan you the funds, if you find yourself short of coin now."
'May as well see, sooner than later, if his promise of coin is good or hollow. Confound if I'll rack up debts for a beggar."
Talar follows the movement. "Hidden blades in the scarf? Haven't seen that before." He says, revealing how sharp his eyes are. "Good. If things get violent you'll definitely have backup too."
Talar blushes and looks down as the man sees right through him; clearly he did not intend to reveal how close he was to Aisha, but what's even more obvious is how plainly awful he is at lying. Even when just trying to be intentionally vague he has tells so obvious a child could spot them.
He grabs onto the next sentence to change the topic. "Friends. Ones that owe lives to each other from a variety of situations, bonded by battle. Of course." He looks slightly ashamed at how rude he was. "We are well stocked, and you are welcome to parch your thirst while we wait, and while we talk. If you have other gear you would bring it may be wise to grab it now, we have ample spare room for you to stay in, free of coin." Luckily it seems that Talar is showing as more and more of an honest man. Far from a charmer with a silver tongue, he seems a blunt and coarse man despite his early age, and it is no wonder he is seeking somebody more capable in disguise and deceit for such a mission. On top of that his casual reassurance of food and shelter also lends credibility to his access to wealth.
"My kinswoman has a great talent for detail. It is as she has said: we sought our people and could not be certain of all events out in the dark desert. Such an unfortunate waste of life, from your telling of it. My condolences for those innocents lost."
Thoth-Apep inclines his head in an absent-minded way, as if he is merely attempting to demonstrate a return of courtesy to Paten, but not at all truly concerned with the loss of life, despite his earlier claims.
After the others are done speaking, she steps forward. "My Lord, I also sympathize with you for the loss of your men. Azimba is a violent place and I am well used to losing men, and whether they be servants or companions it is still something I do not wish on anyone." Continuing to keep the calm tone of a diplomat, she continues " I would not normally ask for a boon upon our first meeting but what I have heard of the slaughter in the desert sounds like it could be their work. Perhaps if you had knowledge of Azimbanan groups in the area you could be kind enough to direct me where I could investigate, and if it was the traitors of my kinsmen in the desert last night I would of course bring that information back to you."
"You are wise not to ask for a boon from a stranger," he says with a slight condescending tone.
"Nevertheless - as you request my aid - I believe we can come to an arrangement," he says with a small leer.
"I shall put forth my resources to acquiring information for you. Do not trouble yourself over a price - for now you may simply consider yourself in my debt," he says, a gleam in his eye.
"Indeed, you are correct. With time, we shall come to understand the heartbeat of this great city and find our sure footing within it. Is this not the way with all new citizens? When we have your esteemed guidance and benefaction, I am certain we shall prevail, Hem-Netjer-Tepi."
Thoth-Apep's face and expression become flat as he turns his eyes back to Tairin.
"Indeed, yes," he says with a dry voice at her comments about requiring his guidance.
He leans back more comfortably and studies the party for some time, his eyes moving from Paten to Yasala absently and almost intentionally avoiding Tairin before he finally turns to look at her last.
"There are many threats and dangers in the city, and surrounding it. A wise man will study those things before him closely before acting, though," he says with a slow, measured tone.
"You are in the house of the late sorcerer, an easterner, as I recall. His absence is noted, yet whatever precipitated his leave must have been something of undue power," he adds, his eyes watching your party flatly.
Then he smiles brightly.
"Well; it was good to meet with you all again. I am certain that we shall grow very lose in time. Until then I urge you all to visit me whenever you wish; I will be delighted to take you on as visitors at any time."
At that he rises and it seems that the visit is concluded.
Whatever it is that he wanted to learn, it seems he has learned it, or at least, he believes that he has.
He pauses to watch you and you sense that before you leave you are free to make a last query or comment as you wish (or skill check).
"I shall put forth my resources to acquiring information for you. Do not trouble yourself over a price - for now you may simply consider yourself in my debt," he says, a gleam in his eye.
Tairin inwardly groaned at the mention of a debt to be repaid by Yasala. Outwardly she sat, hands clasped before her; a neutral expression/small smile on her face.
"There are many threats and dangers in the city, and surrounding it. A wise man will study those things before him closely before acting, though," he says with a slow, measured tone.
"You are in the house of the late sorcerer, an easterner, as I recall. His absence is noted, yet whatever precipitated his leave must have been something of undue power," he adds, his eyes watching your party flatly.
Tairin continued to smile as she answered politely and rather undisturbed by the implication of his words, "Perhaps, having fulfilled his goals in the city, Master Zheng-Ya returned to his rightful place. People come and go; especially in larger cities. Yet, I will be mindful of your caution and your earnest reminder of the threats and dangers in this city. Thank you, Hem-Netjer-Tepi," courteously inclining her head to Thoth-Apep.
"Well; it was good to meet with you all again. I am certain that we shall grow very lose in time. Until then I urge you all to visit me whenever you wish; I will be delighted to take you on as visitors at any time." At that he rises and it seems that the visit is concluded.
Tairin isn't as quick to rise and smiles up at the standing priest. "Before we leave, we understood from your messenger, Hoteth, that you have received some kind of divination which you wished to urgently share with us. May we know what it is, Hem-Netjer-Tepi?"
Talar nods to Mal when he is agrees to come and wait at the manor. He makes sure Mal has an opportunity to retrieve any gear that he needs to, then gracefully hops on Ramul and leads with a slow trot back to his humble abode.
Bowing slightly Bjoern moves forward to lead the group out of the vicinity of this snake. He had known people like him in the past, slave owners, who felt safe in their power, but lived only by the illusion of it. People who thought they were a lot more clever than they really were.
He would ask Tairin later. And keep an eye out on their new servants.
The man would for sure try to bribe or blackmail someone.
Or get a beggar to watch their house. Most likely booth.
Patenemheb takes a genteel sip from his drink.
He does note Thoth-Apep's seeking of a chink in the group's armour in the form of trying to sink claws into their Azimban member. At least, that is the wise assumption.
Another reason to mistrust this would-be priest-lord.
Patenemheb also notes Thoth-Apep's clear feelings towards Tairin - and watches for his reaction to her question about what prompted the urgent meeting.
"I shall put forth my resources to acquiring information for you. Do not trouble yourself over a price - for now you may simply consider yourself in my debt," he says, a gleam in his eye.
.....
He pauses to watch you and you sense that before you leave you are free to make a last query or comment as you wish
As the priest pauses in the door, Yasala steps forward again to respond.
"My thanks, but I am unsure as to how long I will be in your beautiful city to repay such a boon. I was willing to offer an exchange of information, your knowledge of Azimbanan activity in return for what knowledge I might find of their involvement in the desert. If that is not sufficient, then I withdraw my request. I would hate to take advantage of your generosity by having to leave before I could repay an unknown debt. I thank you for the offer but I shall continue to investigate on my own."She bows cordially and steps back to her place beside Tairin.
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Mal takes time enough to gather his pack. He dashes in to his room at the inn and shoves all his worldy goods into the sack. The room is small, the bed is uncomfortable, but the lock is strong and noisy, and its paid up through the end of the week.
He hopes he doesn't come back here.
On the way out he removes his disguise and resumes his normal appearance of a slightly out-of-place looking northerner.
"Let's go meet these friends of yours!"
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Tairin continued to smile as she answered politely and rather undisturbed by the implication of his words, "Perhaps, having fulfilled his goals in the city, Master Zheng-Ya returned to his rightful place," courteously inclining her head to Thoth-Apep.
He gives Tairin a long look.
"Yes... perhaps," he responds, his voice as dry as tinder.
As the priest pauses in the door, Yasala steps forward again to respond.
"My thanks, but I am unsure as to how long I will be in your beautiful city to repay such a boon. I was willing to offer an exchange of information, your knowledge of Azimbanan activity in return for what knowledge I might find of their involvement in the desert. If that is not sufficient, then I withdraw my request. I would hate to take advantage of your generosity by having to leave before I could repay an unknown debt. I thank you for the offer but I shall continue to investigate on my own."
She bows cordially and steps back to her place beside Tairin.
The priest turns to study Yasala with that same, predatory gaze.
"Nonsense, my dear!" he says with a wave of his hand.
"To refuse to aid a guest would be ever so disrespectful. In any case, the bargain was offered and accepted," he says with a firm tone.
"Besides, do not fear! Even were you to leave the city this very day rest assured, when the time comes to collect - I promise - I shall find you," he says with a sly smile and cold, penetrating eyes.
Patenemheb takes a genteel sip from his drink.
He does note Thoth-Apep's seeking of a chink in the group's armour in the form of trying to sink claws into their Azimban member. At least, that is the wise assumption.
You don't really think he's that sexually attracted to her. Instead, you believe he's being flirtatious with her because when some women are flirted with it makes them feel uncomfortable. Thus, by flirting he makes her uncomfortable - by making her uncomfortable he can make her feel unsure of herself or awkward - in short; he's using sexual harassment techniques to try to manipulate her feelings for the purpose of making her easy to dominate or control.
Tairin isn't as quick to rise and smiles up at the standing priest. "Before we leave, we understood from your messenger, Hoteth, that you have received some kind of divination which you wished to urgently share with us. May we know what it is, Hem-Netjer-Tepi?"
The priest pauses and studies Tairin with a cold, leery gaze; almost as if he is unsure of something. But the look is fleeting and then he collects himself and responds.
He really has no idea how powerful your crew is. The comment earlier about the Sorcerer was obviously a lie (at least, to him) but he read it as an OBVIOUS lie - that is; your comment about the sorcerer was so laughable that he was MEANT to know you were lying - that you WANTED him to realize you wouldn't give him details, but had no problem in letting him know something terrible happened - though he has no idea what.
He places his hand to his chin and strokes it uneasily and then shrugs.
"Ah; yes - in the presence of your beautiful companion I had almost forgot..." he says with a nervous smile, then his eyes go flat and he speaks in a more serious voice.
"I did indeed have a vision to share with you. I do not know its full meaning - yet - but enough to share the words," he says, and you believe that this is true. That the words will be enigmatic enough that he doesn't mind being honest with you.
His eyes slit, as if he is thinking deeply while studying you all for a reaction, then he speaks:
"I saw a gray sky and in the westerly horizon I saw the sun begin to rise... else it was moving backward... Yet the sun rose in the west and moved on its journey ever eastward until it reached its zenith above me... There, from some strange place I saw sliding across the sky the moon... The sun seemed to shine a strange, white color and flames licked from its pale circle while the sky, ever gray, somehow grew more dim and almost loathsome... Then the moon slid across to the sun and blotted it out, like an eclipse... and so I saw the rays of the sun, long like serpents, writhing about the moon - and together they seemed to strive with each other.... Black Sun - Black Moon..."
"Then there was the sound in the air like thunder, or drums of battle... and then I awoke," he says, a scowl on his face, as if he did not relish sharing this information.
"That was the summary of the vision. I knew not why I was to seek you, but for the whisper in my voice to seek the masters of the house of Zheng-Ya... I sent my people to that place and now you are here. And now you know the vision," he says with a flat voice.
He then watches you all for a response.
Listening to the priest explain his words Bjoern just presses his lips together for a second when he hears the words "Bargain".
He heard to many slime worms use this when they came to his village.
But for those who believed to much in "Bargains" there was always a simple solution. An Axe into the head.
But it was not his turn to make any decisions.
As long as he was allowed to swing it.
Patenemheb keeps an approving glance from his face as Yasala parries Thoth-Apep's manipulations.
I doubt that she will be overly concerned by his implied threat that followed.
Patenemheb does however pay close attention to Thoth-Apep as Tairin pries word of his vision from him, and thinks before he responds openly.
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Talar leads Mal to a quiet street in the Foreign District of the city, to a mansion well hidden by a tall masonry wall. Behind the
nondescript but heavy gate, the house stands out as a special dwelling with its Eastern-style architecture, slanted roofs, well-trimmed gardens, pagodas, and dragon-flanked entrance doors.
The garden contains a small dwelling for the servants and a set of stables near the main gate. A freshwater well is located within a circular clearing in the garden. A small pagoda stands west of the main house. The broad stairway leading up to the double entrance doors of the mansion is flanked by two massive dragon statues carved from green stone.
Talar gives Mal a tour of the interior, showing the various rooms. He also introduces the servants.
A dark-skinned, spear wielding Azimban man named S'bu, the guardsman of the estate.
A Jairanian man by the name of Kara Ben Nemsi is the steward/head servant and oversees all of the other servants.
A Bhangari woman named Jiya is the cook and kitchen aid.
A Susrahnite woman named Hanala is housekeeper and Head Housemaid.
And lastly is a Taraamite man named Bast, the gardener and head groom.
Yasala mentally shrugs off the cretinous priest's last shot at her while keeping a still, straight face, and then listens to his description of the vision.
Being more oriented towards the physical, social, and political worlds than the supernatural or divine, she carefully listens to his words but leaves it to the others to dissect the meaning.
Tairin listened thoughtfully to Thoth-Apep's recollection of his vision. She did not interrupt; merely nodding at appropriate junctures of the vision to let him know she was considering the meaning and purpose.
When the high priest was done, an expressionless Tairin stood, careful of Sabra still nestled and hiding inside the shawl pouch before her, and politely responded, "You have given us much to think on, Hem-Netjer-Tepi. We will consider your words and ponder the images within. Thank you for being concerned with our welfare and for your hospitality. We will take our leave now. May the remainder of your day be peaceful, Hem-Netjer-Tepi." Tairin gave a cordial smile and bowed her head in due respect before gesturing for Bjoern to move before her, leading the way out to the awaiting litter. There, she moved and settled herself inside the litter, waiting for Paten and Yasala to do the same before signalling her guards to get in position and for their retinue to depart.
Patenemheb seems almost lost in thought for some moments.
Then he gives a soft smile to Thoth-Apep.
"I have much to ponder here, Thoth-Apep. Should you have another such vision, please do inform us. May the sun look favourably upon you this day."
A dark-skinned, spear wielding Azimban man named S'bu, the guardsman of the estate.
A Jairanian man by the name of Kara Ben Nemsi is the steward/head servant and oversees all of the other servants.
A Bhangari woman named Jiya is the cook and kitchen aid.
A Susrahnite woman named Hanala is housekeeper and Head Housemaid.
And lastly is a Taraamite man named Bast, the gardener and head groom.
When your trio arrives at the house you are greeted by the guard S'bu, who seems somewhat suspicious of your group.
It doesn't take much to note that S'bu clearly does not trust Samir; but as he has no reason to refuse Samir, he nods to Talar and lets your company inside.
There you see the head servant, Kara Ben, whose quiet dignity is somewhat put aside as he hurries to intercept you at the courtyard, offering you water to bathe your feet or boots so you do not track dirt into the house proper.
He bows graciously to your new guest, but seems somewhat suspicious to see three mercenary types inside the walls, no matter how trustworthy Talar and Samir may be.
Nevertheless, he instructs Hanala to take you into the dining area and provide you refreshment while the others go about their business.
In the house proper you are given plates with dates, figs and a platter of flat bread, still warm from the clay oven. A pitcher of fresh wine is on the table, as well as a pitcher of Yar-Ammonite beer.
"Enjoy, m'lords," Hanala says as you are free to snack while you wait for your companions to return.
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Listening to the priest explain his words Bjoern just presses his lips together for a second when he hears the words "Bargain".
He heard to many slime worms use this when they came to his village.
But for those who believed to much in "Bargains" there was always a simple solution. An Axe into the head.
But it was not his turn to make any decisions.
As long as he was allowed to swing it.
Bjeorn is not surprised that this man seems to be ignoring him completely. A common error made by so many "Civilized" men; to underrate the potential and power of the Barbarian...
However, you notice that his guards are more focused on you then anyone in the group. Clearly they see you as the most obvious threat. While none of them seem interested in challenging you openly, even by posturing or making subtle threats toward your person, it's clear that when they study your group for danger, you are the prime target.
Yasala mentally shrugs off the cretinous priest's last shot at her while keeping a still, straight face, and then listens to his description of the vision.
Being more oriented towards the physical, social, and political worlds than the supernatural or divine, she carefully listens to his words but leaves it to the others to dissect the meaning.
Thoth-Apep barely notices Yasala's shrug, he seems to be focusing his attention on Tairin and Paten. You do not know, but you suspect, that whatever game he was playing via his lecherous ways is something he's chosen to abandon in order to more focus more on what really matters; specifically, how the others are reacting.
When the high priest was done, an expressionless Tairin stood, careful of Sabra still nestled and hiding inside the shawl pouch before her, and politely responded, "You have given us much to think on, Hem-Netjer-Tepi. We will consider your words and ponder the images within. Thank you for being concerned with our welfare and for your hospitality. We will take our leave now. May the remainder of your day be peaceful, Hem-Netjer-Tepi." Tairin gave a cordial smile and bowed her head in due respect before gesturing for Bjoern to move before her, leading the way out to the awaiting litter.
Ending it on a "Pleasant Note" can have so many meanings; pleasant for you, for him, for the purpose of decorum? For now, I'm going to translate that to "pleasant for YOU!" (and your party). This is because, while decorum and decency would normally a nice way to end a meeting, you'd know that with this guy you can't rely on good court manners; he deserves something more... direct... So, ultimately, despite what his response is, know that it was actually a good ending for you guys :)
Thoth-Apep's eyes narrow at Tairin's veiled ruthlessness and the implied threat that the companions would now be thinking about him and his people, perhaps more than they might have.
The guards glance nervously at each other as your party turns and makes its leave, uncertain as to their master's wishes, but Thoth-Apep says nothing, the narrowed expression quickly evaporating as he recovers, a bit awkwardly, and nods his head graciously at your leaving.
Patenemheb seems almost lost in thought for some moments.
Then he gives a soft smile to Thoth-Apep.
"I have much to ponder here, Thoth-Apep. Should you have another such vision, please do inform us. May the sun look favourably upon you this day."
So Tairin's final response, it seems, has made Thoth-Apep nervous.
This is a delicate situation. On the one hand, Thoth-Apep was certain to watch you whether he was nervous of you or not; that he is nervous means he might be cautious how he watches you, a potential bad thing - HOWEVER - Thoth-Apep is also UNCERTAIN of you, and your power.
How can he be truly careful with your party if he doesn't know your strength? He might send a spy to watch you; but perhaps you could use some dark sorcery to discover his spy? He may attempt to call on some demon to divine your purposes - but you may counter it with the power of some dark god who could unmake the demon and obliterate him in endless agony...
No; as Thoth-Apep is uncertain of your true power you believe that he won't try to spy you out, not like that, not yet. Instead, you believe his gambit (now that he fears your party) is going to try to make more overtures like the one he just did. That is; invitations to friendly events, such a dinner party or something like that, where he can pretend to be your friend and learn what you're truly capable of.
In short; he won't dare to do anything to piss you off, at least until he knows how powerful you really are. Also, if you're TRULY powerful, he might even try to ally himself with you. After all, if you're potentially so powerful, why not be your friend rather than your enemy?
In short; he felt Intimidated by your subtlety but won't respond in a negative way until he knows your power more. You don't need to fear an assassin's knife or spy network for some time; instead, you believe he'll be trying to be on his best behavior when he invites you to events to learn more about you.
Of course, such events let you learn more about HIM, so it's not necessarily a bad thing :)
As you settle into the litter the thought suddenly crosses both Paten and Tairin's mind almost at once even as Sabra the cat nods sagely, as if the little beast also heard the vision and agreed in what it might mean.
The vision of Thoth-Apep showed the sun rising in the west - the sun deity powerful in nearly almost all cultures - but moving from the west (and rising in the "left side", left if you faced north), well, you know that the word "sinister" literally means "left handed"; you know that moving backwards is often considered bad/evil/chaotic - so, if you consider something that typically is good (such as the sun) which rises in the east/right side (typically good) now rising from the west and moving backwards, it seems that this is a sign that there is a good power that is now acting against its nature; against its "good nature" and moving backwards.
The appearance of a Black Moon is the real clue, of course; for in the sands you recall that there was a Black Temple aligned to a Moon God. You recall, also, that in the eastern side of the valley there was an unearthed temple that was opened and something came out of the temple which - you believe - slaughtered the entire company of people that were at the dig. You also recall that whatever did the slaughter moved to the east (that means it traveled from the west; perhaps a coincidence, but visions are somewhat esoteric).
The temple on the eastern side of the valley was dedicated to a Sun God. Something came out of it; something you feel is evil, very powerful and very dangerous.
You do not know, but you now suspect, that the vision depicts a powerful agent of the Sun which has now become black/evil vying with a powerful agent of the Moon (which was black like the temple you found; possibly evil, but it may be a representation of the temple - this part is a minor point, though) but - ultimately - two agents of power; one of the Sun and Moon will now fight each other.
That something dark and powerful broke from the Sun temple and moved in the same direction as the Black Sun makes you feel that there is now a dark and hideous threat in the eastern wilds. This threat may pose many dangers, but it must be contested by an agent of the Moon. You recall, also, the words of the ancient priest within the Black Stone Temple to the moon, indicating that the Moon God, the god of Vengeance, desired champions.
Vengeance against an agent of supernatural "good" (such as the Sun) which may now be acting "evil" seems like the perfect conduit for such a calling and you now believe there's more to this than you expected.
It should be noted that the vision does not reveal who will win such a fight between the two forces...
The party then moves quickly through the streets until they return to the mansion. There, they are greeted by Kara Ben, who instructs the servant Bast to aid the important people out of the litter. He then informs Jiya to prepare you refreshment by fetching your company a platter with a bowl and some clean towels to wipe the dust and grime for yourselves before entering the house proper and make sure you are comfortable.
You observe that Hanala and S'bu are not present and Kara Ben informs you that Hanala is attending to guests in the main dining chamber while S'bu is standing by to aid - but, also, to demonstrate a presence should the new guest try anything untoward.
"I did not wish to turn away our guest; yet he came in the presence of your companions who are... less civilized. As S'bu had little to do at this hour, I thought it advisable to place him with the others as a precaution," he says with a cordial bow.
Then he awaits your orders.
Patenemheb looks at Kara Ben.
"Kara Ben, that all seems in order. That said, do you know whom these guests are and whom if anyone invited them?"
It seems a strange coincidence that we receive more guests while away.
He turns to his companions:
"We should resolve the matter of these guests, then gather our entire company to discuss what we have gleaned."
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Talar leads Mal to a quiet street in the Foreign District of the city, to a mansion well hidden by a tall masonry wall. Behind the
nondescript but heavy gate, the house stands out as a special dwelling with its Eastern-style architecture, slanted roofs, well-trimmed gardens, pagodas, and dragon-flanked entrance doors.The garden contains a small dwelling for the servants and a set of stables near the main gate. A freshwater well is located within a circular clearing in the garden. A small pagoda stands west of the main house. The broad stairway leading up to the double entrance doors of the mansion is flanked by two massive dragon statues carved from green stone.
Talar gives Mal a tour of the interior, showing the various rooms. He also introduces the servants.
A dark-skinned, spear wielding Azimban man named S'bu, the guardsman of the estate.
A Jairanian man by the name of Kara Ben Nemsi is the steward/head servant and oversees all of the other servants.
A Bhangari woman named Jiya is the cook and kitchen aid.
A Susrahnite woman named Hanala is housekeeper and Head Housemaid.
And lastly is a Taraamite man named Bast, the gardener and head groom.
Mal takes in the elegant manse in quiet wonder, pondering just exactly what he has gotten himself in to. The 1000-lb dragon strike him as especially magnificent, bordering on the pretentious--on act of not mere wealth, not something so base as showmanship, but an act of truest opulence. 'By Belit's ponderous teats how would such an act be accomplished? By Khardah's thronging member is this all one piece?? It can not be...'
At the sight of the well he drops all pretense of calm and advances on the thing, taking up a bucket of water and drinking deeply. "Ooo. This is good. Not too sweet, and a far sight from the brackishness that plagues many public sources."
At the offer to bathe boots or feet, Mal accepts both, washing the dust of the road from both road-weary feet and his thick boots, which are well-worn, but show little sign of giving up the ghost.
To the servants he is acceptably courteous, not yet really knowing if these people treat servants as people, or if they see such manners as a sign of weakness, so he treads a careful road between the two.
At the offer of foodstuffs he accepts heartily. He makes a wrap of the warm, fresh bread and figs, and many disappear, never to be heard from again.
He was about to slake his thirst on the wine, but with one whiff of the iron-hard stout, he forgets all about the other pitcher, and sees to it his clay-hard mug is well filled, and he savors each hearty drought.
When at last both throat and belly are no longer decrying him for abuse, he takes the opportunity to learn a bit more about his host.
"So where are you come, good Talar? Is this a manse from thy birth, perhaps? Or rights of conquest? Did you and yours infiltrate this posh house through skulduggerous means, and this is the payment for such dirty deeds?
Or mayhap I'm wrong. Perhaps you represent a mercantile guild, and all this is purchased through shred haggling, with one eye on the price of camels and another eye on the balance book?"
He holds a stern face a full moment before letting out a guffaw. "Nay, friend, nay, I should think. The very idea of your taunt form spending even a single hour pouring over hoary books searching for an out-of-place shekel is so outlandish as to be beyond contemplation. Whatever road you walk, it does not long tarry in the counting room, or weigh heavily on the words of 'equitable commerce'."
He takes another flat of bread and begins loading it with figs.
Tairin's forehead furrowed upon her return to the manse. She was washing the grime from her hands with the clean towel as she listened to Paten's instruction. Tairin nodded in agreement at Paten's caution to speak after meeting the unknown guest.
Handing back the soiled hand towel, she spoke in a steady, yet authoritative manner, "Kara Ben, I gave strict instruction not to permit guests into the house in our absence." This was a mistress speaking a little sternly to her lead servant whom she had placed her trust unto. The encounter with Thoth-Apep had raised her ire and the meaning of his dark vision was still forefront in her mind.
"I did not wish to turn away our guest; yet he came in the presence of your companions who are... less civilized. As S'bu had little to do at this hour, I thought it advisable to place him with the others as a precaution," he says with a cordial bow.
Tairin sighed low and long. So, on this day, the remaining two members of their group decided to bring a stranger into their home and thought to entertain said person... Was this guest someone of influence and power in the city?
"You did well to insist S'bu stay inside the house to keep order if something goes awry. We must go and discover who this important visitor is," she gave a quick nod and then a small smile toward Kara Ben to show him she held no ill will. Turning on her heel, Tairin moved with sure, steady steps toward the entrance of the manse; showing a pace more steady than the one earlier in the day; as if she had grown accustomed to her new gait.
Moving through the door and into the main house, she followed the sound of conversation and came upon the feasting Talar, Samir and third man. Her dark brow raised in query.
"Oh, what a fine day it is for revelry. I hope all is well, here?" Tairin's dark eyes fell on Talar and Samir before fixing on the stranger. She set a smile on her face - cordial as was her manner with any new visitor to their home. She still did not know the station, rank or purpose of this man in her home, so she would play the role of gracious host and lady in residence.
"Good day, sir. My companions and I were not expecting a guest after noonday, but of course you are welcome in our home. I am Lady Tairin. May we know your name, sir? What has brought you to us?'
Tairin removed and handed her light, travelling cloak to Hanala; gently bringing forth Sabra from her pouch before moving to the table, setting the black kitten down on her cushion, pouring herself a cup of wine, instructing Hanala to bring a bowl of water for her pet and then waiting upon the stranger's response.
Talar joins Mal in eating, but is much more reserved in the quantity. He must have been surviving on scraps to be so famished.
"A native, this is my city. And...conquest would be the closest to the most accurate term, I would imagine." He nods sadly. "Yes, my path is one of violence."
Talar stands as Tairin enters. "I hope all went well on your mission this morning?" He inquires. He gestures to the sitting man. "This is Mal Steelcutter. This morning I devised a new plan to to retrieve my sister." To Mal this was the first time he said who the person was to him, but he doesn't seem to notice that as he continues. "Somebody would pretend to be a travelling foreigner, rich enough to warrant respect but not so important to draw unwanted attention, and would inquire at the local brothels about sampling the local girls. This person would be extraordinarily picky, and would continue to be more narrow and narrow with their demands until they are all but demanding to have my sister brought to her. This way we can set honey to find her instead of chasing her all over creation." He gestures again to Mal. "Samir and I met Mal and he fits the criteria perfectly. He can disguise himself and he has a flair for the dramatic, and even if things turn to blades he will be able to hold his own. But since we would be so heavily involved with each other I thought it wise for you to meet him first, as well as request assistance in the finer details of my plan."
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"Everyday, is a good day, for revelry," Mal exclaims, almost reflexively, not yet looking at the speaker. He's not being rude, he's just demonstrating that he is no servant, to jump and lick at the slightest demand.
He pops the last of his wrap into his mouth and washes it down with the good port before turning to begin the round of perfunctory salutations--
--but when he at last lays eyes on the speaker, he is quick to jump to his feet. His eyes quickly rove over the Lady Tairin in due appreciation. 'By Yaathra's massive ivory tusks that is a vision that could bring sweat to a statue!'
His curiosity sated for the now, he finds his voice.
"And a good day to you, Lady Tairin! I am Mal, Steelcutter, and I was just enjoying the company of my good friend Talar. We met once in the quaintest little refreshment establishment and were just catching up on old times."
The statement wasn't entirely camel droppings--they did indeed meet in an establishment, and Mal was asking him about the past. The timeline was simply left ambiguous. What Talar wanted to divulge of their arrangement was something best left to him. A curse that the woman's surpassing...charms...were leaving his tongue tied and his mouth dry.
"I must say my compliments to thy architect!" he proclaims, slowly closing the distance. "A more elegant house I've not seen in all my time. Thy servants are above reproach and thy hospitality is to be commended."
He came a step closer, and was pleased that he at least was choosing his words well. Already he had maneuvered talk away from himself--again, without being rude--he had given his name and more information could be divulged, or not, as circumstances dictated.
"But soft! You return just now? Wherefore hast thou come from?" he asked, fully batting attention away from his person and onto woman. "No doubt some visit of import to do High Dealings with matters of great coin involved? I beg thee, let my presence not be a burden, and do let me know," he bends down low, taking her hand and kissing it gently, "for however way you would have me...service you. Or, as they say in my country, was gibt es sonst noch für Sehenswürdigkeiten in deiner Stadt, außer dir?" he finishes, letting the double-entendre hang as he stands and reinforces his iron-clad grin.
Talar stands as Tairin enters. "I hope all went well on your mission this morning?" He inquires.
"My head aches, yet we came away with what we desired from the meeting," she answered Talar with a modicum of vagueness she deemed appropriate for now, given there was a stranger among them. She would give Talar and Samir a better rundown of Thoth-Apep's words once they had some privacy.
"This is Mal Steelcutter. This morning I devised a new plan to to retrieve my sister... Samir and I met Mal and he fits the criteria perfectly. He can disguise himself and he has a flair for the dramatic, and even if things turn to blades he will be able to hold his own. But since we would be so heavily involved with each other I thought it wise for you to meet him first, as well as request assistance in the finer details of my plan."
Tairin blinked a few times - the only outward sign of what she thinking privately about how the two companions had encountered the stranger and then brought him into their fold. Least he wished for us to meet this man... yet it would have been better had we had this conversation away from the intended...Ah, well.
"It is sensible that we should all meet your new friend," is all she added for now to Talar's plan for this unknown Mal Steelcutter.
"Everyday, is a good day, for revelry," Mal exclaims, almost reflexively, not yet looking at the speaker. He's not being rude, he's just demonstrating that he is no servant, to jump and lick at the slightest demand.
She wrinkled her nose at the man's offhanded remark, yet she remained passive and outwardly bemused, "It is good and well, then, that you do not find our generous hospitality lacking," Sabra's emerald eyes levelled on the new man and she stared hard; as if scouring the man's soul.
but when he at last lays eyes on the speaker, he is quick to jump to his feet. His eyes quickly rove over the Lady Tairin in due appreciation. "And a good day to you, Lady Tairin! I am Mal, Steelcutter, and I was just enjoying the company of my good friend Talar. We met once in the quaintest little refreshment establishment and were just catching up on old times."
And, yet, you are in my home and your first instinct is to lie to me...
Again, she was bemused by the roving eyes; her beauty had always received such instant attention. Yet, what was the man playing at with his half-truths?
Sabra gave a low *hiss* upon the man's words to her mistress and continued staring at him; the emerald depths endless and coaxing.
"Welcome, Mal Steelcutter. You have recently met Talar and already you have become such firm friends? I do marvel at such a capacity to trust. Indeed, what a marvel," she continued in steady, polite voice as she took a sip from the cup of wine in her hand.
"I must say my compliments to thy architect!" he proclaims, slowly closing the distance. "A more elegant house I've not seen in all my time. Thy servants are above reproach and thy hospitality is to be commended."
Tairin smiled as the conversation turned to the cursory appreciation of the manse. "We inherited it from an acquaintance, which is an unexpected boon. I am pleased you find its architecture and decoration to your taste." Tairin gave a small incline of her head, acknowledging the man's pleasant compliment even though she did not have any hand in constructing or decorating the estate. Tairin delicately picked up a small, honeyed fig and took a little bite, savouring its soft texture and sweetness.
He came a step closer, and was pleased that he at least was choosing his words well. "You return just now? Wherefore hast thou come from?" he asked, fully batting attention away from his person and onto woman. "No doubt some visit of import to do High Dealings with matters of great coin involved? I beg thee, let my presence not be a burden, and do let me know," he bends down low, taking her hand and kissing it gently, "for however way you would have me...service you. Or, as they say in my country, was gibt es sonst noch für Sehenswürdigkeiten in deiner Stadt, außer dir?" he finishes, letting the double-entendre hang as he stands and reinforces his iron-clad grin.
Sabra rose from her cushion as the man had drawn closer to her mistress. The black kitten moved to stand before her mistress's plate; thick black tail swishing back and forth; acting as a shield for Tairin. Tairin's hand moved slowly over to the little feline and stroked her head - the place between the kitten's ears - to soothe the brave, agitated kitten. Sabra nestled back against the hand/fingers and gave a soft purr; yet her eyes did not leave the man, Mal Steelcutter.
Tairin answered as nonchalantly as social etiquette dictated in the moment, "As you can imagine, meeting with city officials is something that is common practice among our station and society. And, yet, there is still much to do this day. I cannot complain. To be sought after is not unwelcome." She allowed her free hand to be kissed by the man, Mal Steelcutter. Least he is not unattractive...and knows how to wield fine manners when he has cause to.
As he spoke Bear's tongue, she was grateful for Bjoern's tutelage in his native tongue. "You have recently arrived in Zul-Bazzir? I am curious to know what has brought you to this fine city?" Tairin discreetly glanced at Bjoern to see if he had any reaction to the newcomer or his Tharagian words.
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Mal's eyebrows shoot up. "You were meeting with 'officials' is that it?" He sadly shakes his head. "Lady, in this den of snakes and theives, at least even the dishonest merchants you can trust, honestly! They will take your coin but almost always will give you something of value in return. The 'officials' I've seen here are more like to have you owing them -more- after you think you have paid.
Did you seek my council, and you have not, perhaps wise that you are, I would send a buxom slave with a cask of gold of count on seeing neither ever again and consider myself ahead of the game!"
The talk of "official" business had cleared his head somewhat and he now roamed over the rest of the newcomers. He counted on being formally introduced at some point and saw no need to rush matters...
...but when he sees a fellow northman, his smile falters before re-asserting itself, and his right hand twitches, as if expecting attack at any moment.
'Oh by the grinning skull of death I had hoped to avoid my fellow countrymen through all my days. I had gone a full year amongst the reavers without so much as a whisper and I must have been spoiled. Hopefully his clan is none that I knew.'
He raises his right hand, empty, in greeting to the fellow Thragian.
"Ich sehe dich, Wolfsbruder. Ich bin Johanneveselmal, aber die Südstaatler finden es unmöglich auszusprechen, also gehe ich hier an Mal vorbei. Ich kenne deinen Stamm oder Clan nicht, aber ich weiß, dass ich all diese Wege hinter mir gelassen habe. Es ist mir egal, ob der zweimal entfernte Cousin Ihres Großvaters die Kuh des dreimal entfernten Bruders meiner Großmutter gestohlen hat, aber ich mache keine Fehden hinter der Sandlinie.
Lasst uns von nun an als Brüder sein und diesen sanften Kamelliebhabern zeigen, wie echte Männer kämpfen!"
Let us be as brothers hence, and show these soft camel-lovers how real men fight!"
Then, as an afterthought, he looks deliberately at Tairin before continuing.
"Das ist eine schöne Frau. Ist sie deine Frau? Vielleicht ein Preis der Schlacht? Mit einem so starken Schwertarm, ist das nicht so wie es sein sollte?"
This last he greatly doubted, but if it was so, he had best acknowledge it, lest things...go very hard.
"This is a fine woman. Is she your woman? Perhaps a prize of battle? With so strong a sword-arm, is this not as it should be?"
As he spoke Bear's tongue, she was grateful for Bjoern's tutelage in his native tongue. "You have recently arrived in Zul-Bazzir? I am curious to know what has brought you to this fine city?" Tairin discreetly glanced at Bjoern to see if he had any reaction to the newcomer or his Tharagian words.
"The 'officials' I've seen here are more like to have you owing them -more- after you think you have paid... I would send a buxom slave with a cask of gold of count on seeing neither ever again and consider myself ahead of the game!"
Tairin lowered her cup of wine onto the table and merely nodded, "Indeed. I am certain there are numerous ways to get ahead of the game in this great city."
Sabra swished her tail back and forth, sensing her mistress' present mood.
"Perhaps you did not hear my question, so I will ask it again. Have you recently arrived in Zul-Bazzir? And, if so, what has brought you here? You have me curious." A small smile played across her lips.
On hearing Mal Steelcutter's words to Bjoern, Tairin was not sure whether she should be amused or annoyed. So, she answered his question in a firm, yet reasonable manner, "And, to answer your question, I am not property; chattel to be given to the victor. Please be mindful of your words as a guest in this house." Tairin had escaped the immediate reach of her late father and five elder brothers; yet to be viewed as a prize still did not sit well with her. Her kinsmen had attempted to usurp her will and had failed. She would be the victor and not the prize.
"My head aches, yet we came away with what we desired from the meeting,"
Talar nods in understanding. Although he was playing with an open hand with Mal, he understands that they won't do the same on the rest of their goals.
Talar recognizes the half truth that Mal states, the intentional vagueness. However he bites his tongue; did he not go intentionally searching for a man capable of such falsehoods? He would be a fool to chide him now.
"Welcome, Mal Steelcutter. You have recently met Talar and already you have become such firm friends? I do marvel at such a capacity to trust. Indeed, what a marvel,"
"It was my own decision." Talar returns to sitting, taking a drink of wine. His initial standing and recognizing of Tairin shows that he respects her, but his follow up shows that he sees her as an equal, although superior in social circles. "He is a foreigner and I met him with only talk of coin, so that is where his loyalty lies. If he had some sort of pernicious plans to sabotage finding my sister, then I fear whoever holds her is far too insightful and resourceful to be able to overcome."
As Mal continues to talk Talar is more and more surprised. Bjoern had lead him to believe that their kind was combative and non-talkative, but Mal was a veritable cacophony of words and social mannerisms. Like my own kind, they seem to come in all stripes. He stares in open confusion as Mal addressed Bjoern in his native tongue, but visibly stiffens when Tairin responds. I didn't even know she spoke his tongue...and he was so brazenly disrespectful. Was it simply part of his culture, part of acknowledging one from his homeland? Talar was far too ignorant in the ways of the northern barbarians to know and looks caught between being stiff to defend Tairin and awkwardly wanting to say something to smooth tensions, settling on looking very uncomfortable as he glances between the two.
Patenemheb enters, then watches and listens to the back and forth discussion.
A most talkative Tharagian. Almost the polar opposite of Bjeorn in that regard.
Interesting. Is this a test of his own or a defense?
The scholar then smiles a little and adds his own words, ending in a handful of harsh syllables of Tharag Thulan delivered surprisingly warmly.
"Mal Steelcutter, you stand in the midst of a group possessing uncommon skills and talents, and who are most capable of noting the same in others. You could be a fine asset. I hope for the sake of Talar's sister, that you are willing to cooperate with him, and us. If you are ready to be an ally then we could offer each other much. Willkommen."
"Welcome."
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After being chastised, Mal puts on a tight smile and turns to Tairin. "Ja, ich weiß das jetzt. Aber vor einem Moment habe ich nicht. Und Sie müssen wissen, dass dies ein Land der Sklaven und arrangierten Ehen und Damen ist, die noch schöner sind, als Sie als Eigentum gehalten werden.
Hätte ich Sie nach Ihrem Status gefragt, bevor ich Ihren Meister gefragt hätte, und Sie waren ein Sklave und er ein Meister, hätte er sich beschwert und vielleicht Blut für die Beleidigung verlangt.
Und ich finde es am besten, Blutvergießen zu vermeiden, wenn jemand kann, nicht?"
Had I asked you your status before asking your master, and you were a slave and he a master, he would have taken umbrage and, perhaps, demanded blood for the insult.
And I find it's best to avoid bloodshed, if someone can, no?"
That done, he turns to Patenemheb. "And greetings to you, sir! I can only hope to justify your confidence in me."
He stands for a moment, contemplating something, then, looking like a duck hit on the head, "Kann jeder Mann hier meine Sprache sprechen? Ich wusste nicht, dass wir so häufig sind!"
That done he lets out a long breath, "Ah, but how did I come here and what am I doing? Ich weiss nicht," he says, adding a dismissive hand wave. Returning to his chair and cup he says, "Why are any of us here? Money, my dear girl! After coming down south I ran a stint in Susrah in the eternal battles there, selling my sword. But after being cheated out of rightful pay, and disappointing my pay-masters once too often for not-dying and then coming back for wages owed, I left to find more rewarding work in the Eastern Ocean along the trade routes.
Alas, that too turned sour when my business partners made good in a hostile takeover.
So I am here amongst the plumed oasis of the rich desert sands, seeking my fortune, as any man would!"
He pauses for a restoring draught of the rich stout. "And it would seem I am already set upon the Road of Kings! I can ply my trade being wooed by the prettiest playthings this side of Taikang. Though, alas! I must needs sacrifice much and partake not of the fresh fruits so offered so I might grow more and more agitated that none of the offering are to my liking.
More the pity!
Though, I think, after I have succeeded and the good Talar is reunited with his righteous sister, the coin proffered therein might stake me a good debauch until I have made up for lost time!"
He toasts Talar and beings the cup to his lips, but, pausing, says, "Although, if you need me for anything else, just ask. I can always be loyal...for the right price."
He laughs and takes a good long drink.
Patenemheb continues to fathom the newcomer's motives.
"I will not speak for the good lady Tairin and what she makes of your answers to her queries but I will comment upon the rest."
The scholar motions to Kara Ben for a beverage.
"Tharagian is not so commonly understood. But we have jointly found it advantageous to understand less common languages. Being able to speak between ourselves without being understood has its uses as you well know, though I would caution against excluding potential allies from basic conversation unnecessarily."
Patenemheb takes a proferred goblet of chilled water from Kara Ben and sips it.
"You certainly sound like quite the resourceful man, Mal Steelcutter. It is certainly no harm in itself to make coin. I do wonder if your word could be bought twice, say by an interloper in our affairs. Between ourselves, we have taken to sharing in the fruits of joint endeavours and do not wish to see such threatened. I would prefer a stalwart ally however."
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Mal re-fills his mug and toasts Patenemheb. "Good to know." Then he turns to Talar and casually asks, "Do you also speak Tharagian?"
Turning back to Patenemheb he says, "Would I betray someone for more coin? That is...an interesting question.
Let us say someone comes to me. We may call him...Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson says I need you to kill this man. He gives me no further details on why, and offers me a price that is merely 'respectable'. Not opulent, but not something I am moved to turn down.
Now, the next day, someone comes to me. We shall call them Ms. Smith. Ms. Smith says, I know Mr. Johnson hired you to kill a man. This man is my brother, his children are hungry and his wife will die without him.
Does this move me? No. _Everyone_ is someone's brother, son, husband, father. If we never killed anyone because of someone they know or are related to, no one would ever die ever. And what fun would that be?
But, let us say that Ms. Smith offers me one and a half times what Mr. Johnson offered me. Does that move me? Again I say no. One does have one's reputation to think of.
But if she offered me three times as much? To spare her brother and kill Mr. Johnson instead? Well then to be honest I would say yes, my heart would be moved in this instance. I am compensated my initial fee, and make two times as much on top of it, all for the same work.
Ahhhh, but now. Now would I be moved to betray my good friend Talar? To this I would say no. For the simple taste that I am at my heart intrigued by this assignment. I get to prance about as the useless fop and dangle my cock out having all the slave-masters in the city _begging_ for it. But, bonus, I get to make them dance to my tune and get them to do my work for me.
Yea though we've not yet settled on a price, I can say that no amount of gold would move me from this path. It will provide me that element of life that is so very rare...fun."
He's not lying in this instance. Yes, he's certainly changed loyalty in the past, and the story he's telling right now may be true. But in Talar's case he seems loyal. Or, at least, as loyal as he can be.
He pauses to take a sip and wet his throat, his stylus still spinning in his fingers.
"So, I know why Talar is here, to seek his erstwhile sister. I know why -I- am here, to see my purse grow fat. I can conjecture that my wolf-brother is here for the honor and glory of combat. And the Lady Tairin is here..." his stylus goes tippity-tap on his knuckles, "she is here for others to see that she is really competent and powerful in her worth as a person, not just for her physical charms. Am I wrong?
But you, sir, why are you here? You strike me as the kind of man that would be more at home in a well-stocked book-barn, crowded over some table that sags under the weight of dusty tomes, scratching with a pen at a long parchment solving some arcane riddle or somesuch.
So what is your stake in all this?"
Talar shakes his head to Mal's question. "Just my own tongue and a couple other useful trade languages."
Talar is quickly lost by Mal's examples, but he does perceive that Mal is not a man of rules and rather of man who follows his instincts. That is a double edged blade that can cut both ways, and with the exception of deceit Talar is much the same way.
"Well...I do hope the allure of the job proves itself to be a formula for loyalty. I will not deceive you and lie about the possible danger, but it is for the cause of reuniting siblings who were stolen from each other by force, and the means of achieving this can be rather...entertaining." There's no smile with this statement. It's clear Talar has a negative opinion of slavery and the associated sex work with it.
"I would counter with this." Talar says, suddenly struck by inspiration. "If you are given an offer to betray us, I would have you bring it to us. If after we investigate and find out that the offer is true, we will make sure to adjust your rates so that you have no stray thoughts of betraying us only for the sake of money, and at the same time it will prevent you from simply claiming better offers for the sake of squeezing more coin."
Patenemheb gazes at Mal as the newcomer speaks, seemingly not displeased with the man's responses as he continues to sip his water at intervals.
"That is a fine little tale, Mal. I am even inclined to believe your stated motivations and that Talar's plan has found its executor, should fee and arrangement be found suitable to both parties. Talar, I quite approve of your idea there. Another consideration on deciding a fee: I have volunteered my surgical skills for this cause, among my other skills, though I hope they prove utterly unnecessary."
He sips again.
"But you asked a question of your own and I will oblige you with an answer. I am Patenemheb Sitayet, noble scion of the Kingdom - ancient Yar-Ammon. I was inducted into a great House of Life and over time expanded my studies to include aeons-old langauges and the rise and fall of civilisations. These topics fascinate me. Unfortunately, others in the Kingdom thought less highly of me, for unrelated reasons. Thus, I withdrew to ever more remote areas and then outside of the Kingdom altogether."
A sip.
"I seek knowledge, because it may answer complex questions that burn slowly and whose importance may only become visible in centuries to come. It also provides influence and power in the here and now. Not least, having reliable healing is a lifesaver in dangerous climes."
By Patenemheb's standards, you feel that he has rushed the story of how he came to be outside the Kingdom. It may be memories that provoke even his calm disposition or a conscious attempt to draw focus from or to some matter.
Also, he is utterly sincere and calm in any matter regarding healing. This is no charlatan's promise of snake oil.
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Mal smiles knowingly as Talar puts forth his proposition. It is something he anticipated. Nay, something he expected, even counted on.
"Yesssss. That is the rub, nicht? For starters, pah on the danger! One can not expect to live forever! To live and slay and fight and die is all we can expect. If it is a beautiful death, then all the better.
Now, my story intriques you, eh? So. Let us say a man comes to me and says what he says. And I come to you with this tale, true as the day is long. What then? You grace my palm with coin and I...what?
For such an arrangement, I may need to kill this man. One can not let an enemy so brazen as to steal one's own cattle--so to say--out from one's own barn, no? So too I can hardly let word get around that I do not take offers seriously--I must needs either accept an employer or greet offers of traitorous intent with death, else I'll get a reputation of disloyalty, and that would hardly bring in more work now could it?
Does this...discourage you?"
He pause and sips and re-fills his cup. The pitcher is now empty and he calls for more.
Mal smiles and turns to Patenemheb. "Be at ease, friend. You know I have left out details of my own story, so do not think I do not ponder at your own. Be we, all of us, are not in our place of birth, so we all have lives that have known pain, known hardship. I only know what you wish to tell me, unless there is coin involved, and then I'll only ask what I need to give good value.
Of course, with that mentioned, one wonders...what would you give to return and to see these 'others in the Kingdom' come to be...removed? Or at least dissuaded?
If we are all talented, and I have no reason to disagree with you, then one wonders what one might want when compared to what might be done?
Is seeking the knowledge of how you might come to sit in a high place, most noble scion, one of the complex questions burning slowly upon you?"
He grins.
Yasala stands in the doorway watching the exchange between her new friends and this "guest" of Talar's. Another one who thinks he is charming. I have met too many of these as I came north.
Becoming a little suspicious due to Tairin's body language, she wishes to make sure that all is well. Hoping that this new man does not speak any of the southern languages, and realizing that Tairin and Paten probably do not share her native tongue, she chooses a more cosmopolitan language of the south.
She casually comments, as if her words are an aside to herself but hoping that either Tairin or Paten can understand her. "yesemēnawī k’wanik’wachewini āligebachewimi ፣ gini yihi sewi kifiluni tinishi yasasebewi yimesilali። hulu dehina newi? lemaninyawimi irimija zigiju mehoni ālebinyi?"
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"And a Hello to you too!" Mal calls as the woman in the back speaks up.
Leaning over to Talar, he adds in a stage whisper, "Does your friend not speak the common tongue?" he adds legitimately, having not heard her speak a word he can understand. "Perhaps some hired help from the southlands? Confound she's not a cannibal is she? Trying to refine the noble savages?"
What someone to tell the truth? Accuse them of something you know is wrong.
"And a Hello to you too!" Mal calls as the woman in the back speaks up.
Leaning over to Talar, he adds in a stage whisper, "Does your friend not speak the common tongue?" he adds legitimately, having not heard her speak a word he can understand. "Perhaps some hired help from the southlands? Confound she's not a cannibal is she? Trying to refine the noble savages?"
"Good day, good sir. I do in fact speak Yar-Ammonite as well as quite a few other tongues, I just have an unfortunate habit of lapsing into a more familiar dialect when speaking to myself." She bows her head respectfully but does not let her guard down having not gotten a response from the nobles.
"I am Yasala, originally from Azimba but familiar with many areas between there and here. I most recently represent an organization from the south and have found myself in the company of these good people as our current interests align." She bares her teeth in a sarcastically feral smile to show they are not sharpened "And to answer your question...I do not share the dietary habits of my Ikunan neighbors"
Samir has said nothing; watching the interplay between the company with veiled eyes as Mal elects to use Bjeorn's tongue. Though he does not seem to follow the words, his eyes are intent on their new guest and he seems focused more on all of the other actions the man is making, despite the language that is used.
When they switch back into a tongue that he seems to understand, then picks up his drink and sips at it, but when he hears of the overt mercenary habits of the man, his fingers tighten on the goblet, though he says nothing but listens.
When Yasala finally speaks, he does not take his eyes off Mal, but listens to her, watching him carefully.
Leaning over to Talar, he adds in a stage whisper, "Does your friend not speak the common tongue?" he adds legitimately, having not heard her speak a word he can understand. "Perhaps some hired help from the southlands? Confound she's not a cannibal is she? Trying to refine the noble savages?"
At the mention of the confusion from a foreign tongue, he leans back in his chair thoughtfully, his eyes moving from Mal to Talar, then back to Mal.
He glances at Yasala, curious to know how the woman will respond.
"Good day, good sir. I do in fact speak Yar-Ammonite as well as quite a few other tongues, I just have an unfortunate habit of lapsing into a more familiar dialect when speaking to myself." She bows her head respectfully but does not let her guard down having not gotten a response from the nobles.
"I am Yasala, originally from Azimba but familiar with many areas between there and here. I most recently represent an organization from the south and have found myself in the company of these good people as our current interests align." She bares her teeth in a sarcastically feral smile to show they are not sharpened "And to answer your question...I do not share the dietary habits of my Ikunan neighbors"
At her words, a small, sardonic smile graces his lips, but he says nothing for a moment, waiting to see if she or another will respond.
When no response is forthcoming, he rolls his head on his neck and then straightens, studying the man.
"You talk a lot for a Northman, at least, far more than any tale I have heard," he says, finally speaking.
He reaches for the plate and picks up a date and pops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
"I am not overly familiar with the Northern folk, but I have never known one to put such much value on coin... Aye, and that a northman would fore sake an oath over gold, no matter how much..." he adds, shaking his head slowly, his eyes not leaving the man, then turns to Bjeorn.
"It seems the tales of your folk are not as accurate as I thought," he says, then shrugs.
He turns back and takes a long, slow taste of the drink, watching Mal for a while.
"You said Talar is the one who has hired you to do a thing. Well and good; you serve him, then?" he asks, somewhat rhetorically, still watching and thinking.
He then looks at Talar.
"We have spilled blood together and in that time you have not betrayed me or or any of our company; though, maybe, not all of your actions were very wise," he says with a toneless voice, then grunts.
"You are vouching for him, then? Should he go astray or do wrong, you take his choices on yourself?" he adds, still studying Talar, as if seeking what the man will say in response.
He leans back in his chair, his attention now focused on Talar, clearly curious to see what the man will say.
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"And good day to you, good madam Yasala!" Mal resounds, hefting his cup in salute, making the introduction formal. "Ah! I shall sleep better knowing that I will not awake with your teeth marks upon my bottom!
But soft! We are playing the guessing game here, where we share our motivations. I feel I have guessed all but yours. You are," he squints and stares heavily. "You are...seeking...recognition? Something not quite fame and only a cousin to honor. I feel you care little for coin, even if you do not spit upon it, and have yet to feel the caress of strong ties to this world. You are searching for something...though even you might not know what."
He shakes his head, as though rousing himself from a small trance. "Huh? Am I even close?"
'Tis now that he pauses and drinks and decides that, yes, he has reached the end of his tether with the eyes boring into him by...what was the man's name? Something similar to the horse?
He was about to sling out a quick 'You like what you see, omae?' to put the man on watch. He had not yet run into an instance of man-love, but this was a far-reaching land with odd cultures and he was so very pretty. And, hey, even if you didn't want to go to the party, it was nice to be invited.
His offense is saved the effort when he is addressed...and O! if he spoke this way in a rough tavern with low-guttering candles there would be blood. Not since his days at sea had a man spoken to him thus and lived.
"What do you here, O man? Are you the master of this manse that you would question any man such? Why do you treat me and my kin as you would a paving stone set in the road--each made alike with no room for individuality at all?
Do these tales say we northmen are as shoes, or dog collars? Each made alike to each by workmen sitting at a bench with any flaw or diversion from the norm tossed to the pile of rubbish to be re-used into something more closer to the norm?
You must be very poorly traveled, so I will enlighten you. All people, no matter the place, are as wide and varied as spices in a cookpot. Each person, no matter where they are from, are free to be there own.
Methinks you took one look at my strong-but-silent wolf-brother and made up your mind. Well I tell you as I am not him and as he is not me, and both will appreciate if you address us as people, not merely as some storybook come to life for you to critique as you would based on thy own prejudices!
So too, you seem to be confused on the matter of 'employment' so I will educate you. No bill of sale for a slave has been stamped, and neither am I anyone's manservant. A task has been set upon the board and coin promised for a work-piece delivered.
Is the smith thy servant just because you request him to shoe thy mount? Is the baker or meat-chopper thy servant because you are hungry and call for a good meal? Nay, man, nay.
So too, if you call for bread and the baker instead murders a man, are you responsible for actions? Nay, he is not thy slave anymore than I am Talar's.
And speaking of which, forget not that I have and still do call him my friend Talar. To call him unwise is to insult my friend.
And, I ask thee, what would you do if you stood in attendance and a man called your own brother a fool? Would you thank him for it?
Or would you council that caution and softer words should be the course henceforth?"
Mal had no need to threaten the man. Let words prove battlement enough and see if that will suffice.
This seemed to be a touchy lot.
"Say you, friend Talar, is it time for mid-day meal? Perhaps a slab of smoking viands is called for?"
Maybe they were all hungry?
"We have spilled blood together and in that time you have not betrayed me or or any of our company; though, maybe, not all of your actions were very wise," he says with a toneless voice, then grunts.
Talar simply nods; he knows he has made poor and shortsighted decisions. He would not deny it.
"You are vouching for him, then? Should he go astray or do wrong, you take his choices on yourself?" he adds, still studying Talar, as if seeking what the man will say in response.
He leans back in his chair, his attention now focused on Talar, clearly curious to see what the man will say.
Talar frowns at Samir. "Mal is his own man. I hope things go well and he does not have cause to betray us, but if it comes to that I cannot take the burden of making the decisions that he chose to. Simply the inevitable responsibility it will be to hunt him down and deliver him to the god's mercies for daring to put me further from my sister."