"Pah! You take the fun out of things, Mr. Upside-down. Fine fine, best to make new friends at the end of the day, innit? Here's where the boy is, write it down if you can't remember..."
He gives you directions to a hostel nearer to the University, located near the base of a nearby Spire. "...though he's a grim fellow these days. Only seen 'im two or three times, but always frowning."
He winks at Marianne. "So it was a kiss with an arrow for not telling, what kind of a kiss is it for a prince like me?"
Head tilted for a moment, then she smiles. "Sky's kiss, of course." Her lips smack the air, and she blows it toward the swaggering sylph.
Turning to all of you, "Well family, should we find somewhere to sleep and call on brother dearest in the morning?"
Iniga smirks at Marianne "I think you let him off easily cousin, I would have put him and his cac-eating grin in place if it was me" she quips in response before nodding "Lets find a place to rest."
Outside of Trouble's Antidote, you are again struck by how bright the city is, even at Volcano's nadir. Many businesses have celerity-powered beacons to draw the eye in bright greens, yellows, and purples. The wires high above send glaring blue crackles of celerity hither and yon. The shiny trees you pass--the locals call them mirror birches--reflect all of these, smears of color decorating their silver branches.
You hear heavy footfalls, and as you turn a corner you see a silver golem patrolling the streets. The smell of ozone is suddenly strong, and faint buzzing sound comes from the golem's chest. Its attention shifts to the four of you for a long moment, then it moves on.
Closer to the university grounds, you find a nameless hostel. The sign simply proclaims a price of one silver and vacancies. Inside, a tired-looking sylph is drinking coffee. She takes your money and shows you where the beds are.
The rooms are crowded with sleeping forms and the smell of elens, but it is at least clean. In one corner, a squat machine decorated with an grinning efreeti face belches heat to counter the cold seeping through chinks in the wall.
The golem in particular is fascinating to Samen. He's never seen them, though he has heard stories. On a whim, he turns on his elemental vision. Every other animate magic thing they've come across has been elemental in nature, so why not this?
"Decent and functional sounds most apt. We can rest in some comfort then meet Samoon tomorrow."
As Wamblee speaks of decency, one of the sleeping patrons lets out a loud belch.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Iniga shrugs "It beats staying in a room that charges by the hour"
"Volc, what a start to the day. I only had two of those stupid gloating fargles! Wonder if anyone in this town has finally discovered a cure for hangovers."
"Now there is a project that Samoon might find worthy.", says Wamblee with a grin.
"Now, let us seek him out."
You exit the hostel, glad to leave the hot, close rooms behind. Outside, the air is crisp and fresh. In the clear morning peaklight, you see that Light is a city of heights. Above and between the buildings, you see a network of ropes, nets, planks, knots, and wire that is just as busy--if not busier--as the streets below.
You hear repair-els call to each other from the wires, shouting directions back and forth as they fix the celerity lines. The sylphs casually dangle from forty or fifty feet off the ground, not bothered by the drop one bit.
Below the high wires, thick ropes and nets hang between domiciles, populated with caith-playing children and gossiping mothers. Fathers climb higher to the longer plank bridges and heavier traffic, making their way to their labs and refineries for the day.
Beyond the outskirts of the extensive school of alchemy now, the shops and restaurants are finer here, catering to the well-to-do crowds of the University. Young, smiling sylphs walk in groups, talking with the loud self-assurance of first-year students. Els and eles stroll arm-in-arm, sharing warmth as they huddle in woolen greatcoats.
Tall brick buildings loom on either side, topped with smokestacks here and dusted with old ash stains there. These are the halls of the University proper, adorned with names like The Artan Chemic Rookery and The Dolan Chyme Labs, grand white lettering gone gray with age.
The Celerity Spires are more frequent here, dominating the skyline. The perfectly tapered shapes are swathed in a hundred coiling connections, a rat's nest of celerity extending into the many laboratories and distilleries scattered about the grounds.
Following the directions from last night, you find the hostel, which is located above what smells like a tannery. Taking the stairs on the outside of the building, you ascend to the second floor and knock.
Grumbling, stumbling muffled from inside, then the door opens. A wave of whiskey and old vomit hits you. Eyes red, breath stinking, Samoon peers blearily at all of you. "And here I thought I was done having bad dreams," he says with flat, resigned sigh.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Samen refrains from chastising Samoon for running away in the night and speaks the first thoughts that come as he pushes past him into the room. "You look like Volcano's anus, brother. Any luck finding Bree?"
Samoon puts a hand up to his forehead. "Oh, Sky. Nice to see you too, Samen."
"There's stale coffee around," he gestures vaguely toward a cluttered table, "somewhere. And the answer is no."
"Good to see you, Samoon. Let us move this indoors."
Samoon makes a show of closing the door behind the four of you. "Sorry, you're right, the celerity lines are pretty loud, cheap part of town. Now that you can hear me, I'll repeat: the answer is no."
"To the unasked question of 'will you rejoin us'? Duh. You made it pretty clear you were cutting ties. There's two other things we would like to discuss, however."
Samen ticks off his fingers as he enumerates his intentions. "One, we would like your assistance in securing some means to safely penetrate the breathless valleys. Two, we need some medical assistance, as Mar wishes to have a bird stitched to her body and an elemental to her soul. I can handle the latter, I think, but I'm no good with biology."
Rubbing his temples, Samoon closes his eyes, softly repeating a few of your words to himself. "breathless, medical, bird stitch..."
"Sky. Oh, Sky. Okay. Samen, it was also an answer to your question regarding Bree. I lost my cross staff, I need it back if I'm going to help with the Valley. And unless that was a sick joke, then what the volc is wrong with you, Mar?" He turns to Marianne.
Marianne's voice is controlled, but simmers beneath like a fireplace cauldron. It reminds you of Mother. "Do you have something to say, brother?"
"You're damn right I do! I know Samen likes to have truck with this madness, and Wamblee's half rock anyway, but come on! Who is the voice of reason here?" He turns to Iniga. "And what, cousin, are you going to swallow a fire elemental whole and start breathing fire?"
Samoon laughs, the kind of laugh that is already halfway to tears.
"Wait wait wait, you lost the staff? What happened to it?"
"Does it volcing matter? Let's focus on the real, the practical - we need to get it back."
"I don't think I need to breathe fire cousin, I think my temper's fiery enough without any sort of accelerate, or do you need a reminder?" Iniga responds darkly, folding her arms firmly.
"How the heck did you manage to lose your magic staff, and where? Details like that do matter as you should know by now Samoon - especially if we are needing to get it back"
"We do need to know, Samoon. Please, tell us what happened."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Agitated into motion, Samoon walks a quick circle around the cluttered room, kicking at discarded papers and old food with his feet. He picks up a bottle from the table, uncorks it, and takes two long swallows. "As soon as I got here, I visited the Breathless Valley nearby. I thought I had a breakthrough - the light from my cross staff could make a little thin bubble around me, keeping the air in..." He shakes his head. "But I couldn't get it to stay. The bubbles kept...I don't know, popping. I would take a few steps in, feeling fine, then I had to rush out before I started breathing nothingness."
Another drink, coughing. "I tried. I tried and tried for two weeks. My eyes aren't bloodshot from the alcohol, by the way, although it probably doesn't help. There's something wrong with the air, or I guess the non-air, in the Valley. Made it feel like needles were getting shoved into my eyes and ears."
Sitting now, voice soft. "Anyway, when I failed for the fiftieth time or so--I was trying about four times a day, until my body just..fell over and I slept--I decided to...haha, ah, celebrate with a drink. And another. And probably a few more."
Rubbing his hands over his face, "And Bree walks in...whatever bar it was. And asks for the staff. And I gave it to her."
Three more gulps, he finishes the bottle, and throws it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass loud in the room. Shouting now, "But it was some volcing trick by Joseph volcing Rentwyrth. He..." Samoon throws his hands into the air, suddenly drained of anger, "gets word that I'm in town, hires a look alike of his own dead sister, spies on me until I get drunk, and then...I hand it to her. And she hands it to him."
Bent over the table with grief and helpless rage, "And he sent me a letter about it, as a final 'volc you' to me."
"So hes an utter moron then, good to know" Iniga mutters, in response to Samoon's mention of Joseph Rentwyrth. "Like seriously, who commits a crime to steal a magic stick and then sends a letter bragging about committing that same crime. If you are the king of the so called castle then I get it, there's nothing much to worry about, but otherwise you run the risk of someone bigger and scarier tapping him on the shoulder and taking it back. Lets go kick his ass and I can show him what I mean."
Samen strokes his chin for a moment. "Two possibilities, Iniga. Either it wasn't Joseph at all, and it's someone using us to destroy him, which I'm totally fine with. What's another dead Rentwyrth anyway, eh? Or two, He's luring us out so he can ambush the rest of us."
"Or he's an utter moron. Wouldn't be the first one."
"I went to school with Joey. The el is brilliant, okay? His only flaw is that he thinks he's smarter than everyone else. And most of the time, he's right."
"So your plan is...what? Assume he's an utter moron and go kick his ass? Do you know after all the crazy cac we did Forge, that Joey had Bree declared dead? I mean, before she even died! He has the entire Rentwyrth fortune now, he's got got guards and spies and Sky knows what else. And we've got, what? Arrows, stones, and a few magic trinkets."
Samen puts his hand on Samoon's shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "And we're utter morons with nothing to lose. Is he in Light? What does his letter actually say?"
An idea occurs to him. "Or, if we're feeling less bloodthirsty and Krissa is around somewhere, we could kidnap her and arrange a trade."
"They're both here. Not hard to find, they've got a nice place in the north part of town. He showed me the inside once, years ago, just to brag about the wards and locks and the huge stash of booze."
"I may have, he coughs, "stalked him in a fit of cold rage hoping to murder him once or twice in the last few days, but he always has guards around. Sword els and alchemists. I may be depressed and a borderline alcoholic now, but I'm not suicidal, and charging at him in the streets would be nothing short of suicide."
"You are not going to tackle him alone, Samoon. That would be foolish. No, you are going to tackle him with your kin, who are all reckless but capable in our own ways. So, where has he put down roots?"
Samen looks around the room at his hardened relatives. "We're all on the same page, right? We're going to kill the volcing bastard."
His eyes linger on Ingia, questioning her resolve.
Wamblee nods, just in case his intent be mistaken.
Marianne nods as well, smiling. "Hell yes."
"Is stealing all he did? I have no real objection towards taking someone off the board but in the past we have shown mercy for greater crimes"
Iniga shrugs, prepared to concede the point. "Like I said, I don't really care either way and his Dad was obviously a tool - I'm just checking we are eliminating him for defined reasons is all."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Iniga looks at Marianne for a second before inspiration strikes and she brightens slightly. "Samoon is right though, starting a fight on the open streets is a bad idea. He will have bodyguards, witnesses, people that are going to get in the way. Sooner or later, you have the golem's wading in and I don't really want to handle those hindrances."
"On the other hand, if we could lure him away from his defenses or bodyguards then hes just an ordinary guy - someone any of us can probably take on. We also know everything we need to about this guy. Hes smug, superior, he looks down on others he perceives as having less brains or money than he does. He thinks that he is the smartest el in the room and he hates Samoon. Hates him enough to write him a letter saying 'volc you'. Also he has a thing for redheads" Iniga finishes, hesitating slightly before looking at Marianna again "Maybe".
"The man doesn't know that I have been travelling with you guys for long - maybe we were spotting in the city but even then it doesn't tell him much - it could have been a quick catch up after years away. I didnt know about Bree anyway until you told me, so its almost certain he doesn't believe I know the story."
"Guy like that, seeing me apparently alone in the city, hes going to see it as an opportunity to torment Samoon further, to rub his nose in it. Sort of like a 'look what I can do - theres no where my influence cannot reach' kinda thing. Even in the worst case scenario, he is probably keen to have a chat with me. I might know something after all, about you three - something he might find useful. Maybe he doesn't know me at all, or doesn't bite, but either way, its worth a try. We could always try a frontal assault later if things don't work out."
"That is not a bad idea at all, Iniga. As for why the harshness, those trying to steal the artefacts more often than not tend to be deadly themselves or flat out in league with the Dark. Regardless, I think you could handle him one-on-one."
Marianne blushes at Iniga's remark and says, "Yeah, it sounds like you might know how to push his buttons."
"Understood Wamblee, and a fair point.. I guess I was referencing some of the corrupted oreads, some of which we elected not to kill. I'll be on my guard though."
Iniga glances at Samoon and Samen for a second, before tossing her hair slightly. "Assuming everyone is fine with this, I should probably leave now and start acting as bait. The more I hang out with you guys the more this starts to look like a trap. Assuming that Samoon hasn't overhyped this guys influence, he should be able to find me before long but if Samoon knows of any frequent haunts Joseph has then he might find me quicker. If not, I'll figure something out."
"Playing on his arrogance could work, but what about the details? Even if you manage to get him alone after a little schmoozing, how will we know where and when? We can't tail you the whole time, we'd eventually be seen."