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Nialta takes a half-step back as the coughing fit strikes Calendula. Her face clouds slightly as she looks over the woman again. "You should have that treated."
At the offer to assist with the fish, the older Undine lifts her head slightly. "No!" she says too quickly. "What I mean is that a friend of Nime's is a guest in our family and shouldn't touch the ... shouldn't need to exert herself on our behalf."
Nime looks between the two women - a curious expression on her face. She seems just about to say something when there's a call from an incoming small boat. "Nạ̀n khụ̄x Nime tạw n̂xy k̄hxng c̄hạn h̄rụ̄x! Pĕn pị mị̀ dị̂!" is shouted out in a rich baritone voice.
The owner of the voice is a tall blue-skinned man in worn cotton trousers. His arms are lean corded muscle and his gray hair is restrained in a long braid. He makes a quick leap to the dock to close the distance to the three women.
"Papa!" Nime squeals and wraps her arms around him. After an extended embrace, the man steps back holding both of Nime's hands out to the side. "Let me have a look at you," he says, the picture of happiness. He chuckles as he looks her up and down. "I see my baby girl is still flouting the conventions of civilized society," he says with a wink. "Papa!" Nime responds with the trace of a whine in her voice. "I'm just tweaking your tail, little one," he answers with a grin. "You are perfect just the way you are - change for no one but yourself." Nime's smile is wide enough to brighten up even the afternoon sun as she turns to Calendula. "Calendula, this is my papa, Timbola. Papa, this is my close friend Calendula."
"Close friend, eh?" the man responds with a wink in Nime's direction. The oracle frowns in response. "Papa, don't. Please don't make assumptions that would embarrass her. She's my friend."
Timbola looks confused for a moment and then leans in close sniffing the air around his daughter. "Just friends? Of course," he says in a stilted voice. Nime looks away, her skin turning a faint violet. "Yes, just friends," he repeats as he turns to smile at Calendula and extends his weather-hardened hand.
As the introductions are completed Nialta pulls Nime aside to assist emptying the filled nets into baskets. It seems that the oracle's predictions were accurate and more baskets are required.
"I would like to apologize if I embarrassed you," Timbola says, pulling Calendula aside. as the others on the pier continue filling baskets. "In my defense, it has been many years since Nime left and she's never introduced any of her friends to us. We never even met her husband." His face grows sad. "My daughter is a very special person with a heart as big as the sea. But she's very careful about whom she lets touch the depths of it.
"Perhaps she's correct and you are just close friends," he continues in a quiet voice. "But I know my daughter, Miss Calendula, and whether she wishes to admit it or not, I know what I see." His eyes filled with sadness, Timbola turns back to watch Nime help with the fish. "In time, she will have another broken heart."
In short order, the baskets are filled and then carted off by other Undine to be sold to a fish trader. They seem quite excited that the catch was as good as it was and they'll get the jump on the best prices. A few of the best specimens are held back and quickly prepared with sticky rice and greens. Along with a clear liquor that carries a scent of lemons, the meal is filling and plentiful.
The conversation flows between Common and Aquan with laughter and boasting aplenty. Calendula catches Nime's mother's eye on her more than once.
"So," Nime says to Calendula in a moment when the men seem to be involved with a test of skill with a net. She sits clumsily down on the wooden planks outside the family cabin at the landside of the pier. "You smell like there's something on your mind." The Undine holds a small glass of the citrusy drink. She drains the glass and leans close. "Would you like to talk about it?"
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Nialta takes a half-step back as the coughing fit strikes Calendula. Her face clouds slightly as she looks over the woman again. "You should have that treated."
"Done that," she shivers, tucking her hands into her armpits. "'M dyin, no cure. It old news, don't worry about it."
Nime's smile is wide enough to brighten up even the afternoon sun as she turns to Calendula. "Calendula, this is my papa, Timbola. Papa, this is my close friend Calendula."
"Close friend, eh?" the man responds with a wink in Nime's direction. The oracle frowns in response. "Papa, don't. Please don't make assumptions that would embarrass her. She's my friend."
Calendula blushes grey as if on cue, lips pulled tight to the side and eyes looking elsewhere, but she says nothing.
Timbola looks confused for a moment and then leans in close sniffing the air around his daughter. "Just friends? Of course," he says in a stilted voice. Nime looks away, her skin turning a faint violet. "Yes, just friends," he repeats as he turns to smile at Calendula and extends his weather-hardened hand.
The two fishermen shake hands, callous rubbing up against callous. "Close friends," she reiterates.
"I would like to apologize if I embarrassed you," Timbola says, pulling Calendula aside. as the others on the pier continue filling baskets. "In my defense, it has been many years since Nime left and she's never introduced any of her friends to us. We never even met her husband." His face grows sad. "My daughter is a very special person with a heart as big as the sea. But she's very careful about whom she lets touch the depths of it.
"Perhaps she's correct and you are just close friends," he continues in a quiet voice. "But I know my daughter, Miss Calendula, and whether she wishes to admit it or not, I know what I see." His eyes filled with sadness, Timbola turns back to watch Nime help with the fish. "In time, she will have another broken heart."
"You've no need to worry about that from me, Mr. Timbola." Calendula sniffs, wiping her nose on her arm. "Nime an I been friends near twenny years now; I broken her heart once afore, true, but once was enough for me. I been clearer and more open bout my thoughts and feelins in the years since: she knows where we stand."
"So," Nime says to Calendula in a moment when the men seem to be involved with a test of skill with a net. She sits clumsily down on the wooden planks outside the family cabin at the landside of the pier. "You smell like there's something on your mind." The Undine holds a small glass of the citrusy drink. She drains the glass and leans close. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Calendula awkwardly clutches a glass of liquor in both hands, never touching it to her lips. Lines furrow across her forehead, cutting through the deep scar there. "Yeah, I, uh," she turns and leans against her friend, feeling shy and awkward. "Your family is, uh, weird. I mean, they keep starin at me, like they all expect me to keel over or propose."
With a sigh, she pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. "That's not what I wanted to talk about. I-" Calendula draws her sword, catching the light glinting in the blade, seeing how perfect the hilt fits in her hand. They had been made for each other, truthfully. The sick woman shivers and leans in harder, still facing away. She throws back the liquor, her first drink all night, and pushes the empty glass into Nime's warm hand before grabbing her sword with both hands.
It shines, a starburst shooting out the cross-guard, the very image of Iomedae's emblem. "D'ye think there's a chance fer me?" She whispers, a stream of silent tears flowing down her face. "Assumin, I e'en wanted to go back, which, trust me, I don't. Or am I defined by my cowardice? My refusal of the Inheritor's call?"
She sheathes her sword hurriedly and presses her wet face into Nime, crying in earnest now. "Are we really to save the world, Blue? Even me?"
"Oh, Khndī," Nime says, pulling the woman in close. She sits there a moment, rocking the crying woman. After a bit, she looks up at the darkened sky. "Did you know that some people claim that Iomedae and Shelyn are occasional lovers? It's never been confirmed, but I believe it may be true. That tells me that Iomedae knows love. Shelyn would never take someone to her bed that didn't feel true love. And you can't know true love without forgiveness."
Her hand strokes Calendula's back softly.
"If that's what you desired and you asked Iomedae for forgiveness and felt repentance in your heart, I know that she would forgive you."
She reaches down with one hand and lifts Calendula's chin up to look her in the eyes. "I know I would," she says softly - grey eyes meeting grey eyes. Those eyes move for just a moment down to the scarred lips before closing. The oracle then leans in and touches her lips to the woman's forehead. "And she has a much truer heart than I."
Nime continues to hold the warrior in her warm arms. "Yes, we're destined to save the world. All of us," she adds in a resigned voice.
Calendula pulls back and wipes her face and nose against a trailing scarf, hardening her expression and moving through her emotions. "Then we'll need me at my full strength," she declares. "Regardless of whatever resentment, or-or, whatever bad blood there still is between me and Her, we cn be adults about this."
She pulls her shirts straight and cracks her neck, energy up. It all dissipates in a wave of disappointment a few silent seconds later.
"I don't think she'll remove whatever curse She put me under, but," she sighs and leans back against Nime. "I don't think I would let Her." She clings to Nime's side, tears flowing once more.
"What should I do, Nime?"
"Yes, we can be adults about this," Nime echoes as she pulls Calendula closer. "And if you'd like to make peace with Iomedae then I'll help you." She sits quietly for a bit, her thoughts ranging here and there. She finally takes a deep breath. "I want you to go back to the inn and think about this tonight. This needs to be something that you want to do. Not because you think I want you to do it or because you think Iomedae wants you to do it. It has to come from within you. This is about your heart." A long fingered blue hand reaches out and touches Calendula's chest lightly. Nime smiles.
"In the morning, if it's still something you desire, meet me at the end of the pier here just before dawn. Ok?" The oracle turns back to look up at the night sky. "And if you decide you don't want to do it, you'll still be Calendula and I'll still be Nime and we'll still be friends." She pulls her into a tight shoulder squeeze.
"And then we'll go have some bacon. I'm in the mood for bacon."
Calendula grabs Nime's hand and idly strokes the top of it with her thumb as she cries into her breast. She pulls away nodding, eyes wet and bloodshot, blue-black veins coursing through the whites of her eyes like nothing else.
"I care about you so much, Blue. You're the realest and deepest friend I ever had. I love you, dearly, intimately."
She sighs and lets her scarves down, shivering as the breeze hits her scalp. Except for her many scars, her skin shines in the dim lighting, creating a webwork of negative space. "Please thank yer family for the meal, on my behalf. I'm gonna go and do that thing you said. It's smart. Thanks."
---
That night, Calendula prays for the first time in twenty years.
"We don't hafta like each other, Iomedae. An you don't hafta forgive me. I don't expect that. This is about me abandonin my duty, leavin my men ta die more'n it's bout anything else."
She groans and continues, frustrated at her own difficulty at admitting any of this.
"I am truly sorry, Iomedae. I have suffered long under th yoke of my affliction, an bear it gladly. I believe this equates penance. It ain't for me ta say if'n you should eer take this cancer from my veins, but in the end, I only ask one thing."
Calendula draws her sword once more, allowing its light to shine bright, burn with Iomedae's holy intentions. Kneeling, she touches the tip to the floor and leans her head against her hands on the pommel.
"Don't let your curse kill me afore'n I c'n help them kill Alaznist an save th world. I know you, Iomedae, more intimately than I know almost anyone. You don' need me to apologize: you need me to rededicate m'self to duty an honor, to pledge myself to die afore I let the world fall.
"This a two way street, tho, oh Inheritor. You know me, too, betterer'n perhaps anyone else. My life been tied to yours since they found me on the battlefield, and maybe e'en b'fore. You know that I won't, I can't run this time. Because this time, I ain't fightin fer you, Iomedae, I'm fightin cause it's the right thing to do, cause it's th only thing I can do, because it is my duty as a citizen of th world. I cannot stand idly by and let th world shatter, and neither can my friends. They need me, and for their sakes," she takes a shuddering inhale, knuckles white as she grips the hilt with one hand, "I need you."
She nearly collapses as she admits it, a deep cough roaring through her belly, stripping her throat. When the coughing subsides, she continues.
"This is why I'm still here at all, I know it. If'n you trust me, give me this one chance further, let me redeem meself in yer eyes, I'll," a sigh, "I'll serve ye as long as you have need of me. I pledge my eternal soul to be bound to ye, as it once were and shall be again.
"Amen."
---
Calendula paces through most of the night, anxious and nervous about her decisions. Would Iomedae accept her apology? It was proud and far from humble, and at times insulting, but she meant it.
Iomedae would give her this chance. That she believed.
But then she started doubting again!
Hoping to stave off her anxiety, she arrived at the docks early by an hour and a half and sat there shivering until Nime arrived.
With the funds secured Shenuska heads straight to the golemworks and purchases a suitable manual. She ends up spending a whole day there, wandering around the forges, examining the long and laborious process of golem creation. By the time she leaves there is a spring in her step and those who know her would see excitement in the normally reserved psychics bearing.
The Golemworks is one of the most iconic industries in Magnimar; as its name implies it produces golems. Located in the Bridgeward district near the northern section of the Irespan, from the outside, the Golemworks look like a set of rather unremarkable warehouses. Inside the building artisans help create golems and simpler constructs using fallen blocks from the Irespan. Most of these blocks were dredged from the Varisian Gulf as, after the tragic events of 4623 AR when men quarrying stone from the Irespan released a horde of shriezyx into the city, removing stone from the bridge itself has been banned. Nearly thirty years ago, Toth Bhreacher discovered that the stones of the Irespan proved very useful in any sort of magic with the most obvious application in the creation of stone based constructs. Since then his operation has transformed from a small wizard's studio into a full blown industry.
Although arriving early, Calendula finds Nime sitting tailor-fashion at the end of the pier facing out to sea with her eyes closed. The Undine doesn't seem to notice her presence, though.
After an hour of waiting, the oracle opens her eyes and leverages herself to her feet. Her spear has been replaced with a longer, bladed, pole-arm - a glaive in fact.
"Oh, good morning, Calendula," Nime says, noticing the woman for the first time. With her new weapon, her magical bag hangs at just the perfect height to be annoying and she shoves it out of the way with a huff. "Sorry about that. I was at the temple of Iomedae last night and ended up in an ecclesiastical discussion on the merits of a priest's bearing of their deity's chosen weapon. The man I talked to seemed to be of the mind that I couldn't possibly be a representative of Shelyn unless I carried one of these stupid things. I disagreed, but he wouldn't ..." She shakes her head. "To simplify things, I just bought one. I have no idea how to use it, but ..." She shrugs.
She takes a deep breath.
"But we're not here to listen to me ramble, we're here for you," she says with a smile. "It looks like you've decided to go through with this." Nime steps close and takes the woman into a warm hug. "I am so proud of you." She releases her friend and steps back.
"Now I discussed with great length the procedure for this with that man and I'm confident that there won't be very much pain." She winks at the shivering woman. "I'm kidding." She reaches into her magical bag and pulls out a thick scroll. A trace of annoyance appears again in the blue-skinned woman's bearing. "He was of the narrow mind that he was the only one that could perform this ceremony. I convinced him that my standing as your friend and as a messenger of Shelyn's love made me perfectly capable of fulfilling this role."
She shakes out the scroll and then looks up at the sky. "We'll wait a few minutes as this is expected to be done precisely at dawn. Oh, and you'll need to remove your clothes." She glances up at Calendula at that last revelation. "Most of my family has already left for the day," she says, indicating the lack of boats tied to the pier. "And I've asked my mother and those that remain to give us some privacy so there won't be anyone here to make you uncomfortable. And I'll even join you if that makes you feel better."
With a twist of the string around her waist, Nime's cloth shorts fall to the wooden planks at her feet and she kicks them away. She then tosses her hat on top of them.
"See? I'll be naked too. It symbolizes that on this new day, you are beginning a new life. You're being reborn. He seemed quite insistent on that. I don't think it had anything to do with him being the one to perform the ceremony."
Nime waits for Calendula to comply and then with an eye towards the coming dawn, she begins reading the scroll, attempting to coincide the conclusion with the appearance of the sun.
As the first glimmering rays of dawn appear, Nime finishes the complex spell. "It now expects a simple word from your heart, Khndī,"
Calendula obediently strips. It takes some time to unravel each scarf and divest herself of her myriad coats and shirts, but she does so without question or hesitation.
As Nime already knew, her scars continue quite far past her neck; her front is covered with thin lines, fat nicks and circular burns, as well as several long, snaking scars, cut into her through cruelty or magic. One in particular wraps itself four times around her hairy thigh, before meeting itself at her knee.
She picks up her sword from her discarded equipment, and holds it out as an offering. "This what I was born fer, Nime," she whispers, staring out toward the lightening sky. "This's my duty. An the only way to accomplish it. I seek redemption."
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Nime leans her awkward weapon up against one of the pier posts and drops the now-blank scroll to the weathered wood at her feet. She shuffles close to the naked warrior. "Calendula, as a mortal representative of Shelyn, the Incorruptible Eternal Maiden, as well as a stand-in for the Lady of Valor, I announce your sins against Iomedae forgiven. Go and do Her will."
There are tears flowing down the oracle's cheeks as, heedless of their lack of clothes, she takes the scarred woman into a warm hug. "Just don't go right now because I want to have breakfast first."
Nime sniffles as she leans back just enough to place a kiss on the woman's forehead. "I am so happy for you, Khndī. And I am so thankful that you allowed me to be a part of it." She then closes her long arms around Calendula again and pulls her in close, seeming content to just stand there embracing in the cool morning air.
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As her sins are lifted from her and the sun rises fully, Calendula takes her sword with both hands and raises it into the sky. The light kisses her naked body, and she shines with new strength and vigor, an icon, a chosen warrior.
Her heart beats again.
When she collapses into Nime's arms, she drops her sword by her side. "Thank you. Thank you." The woman presses into her friend and companion, gripping her tightly. She presses her lips against Nime's face, and again.
"I feel stronger. Warmer. Still cold, still sick, but like-" she rests her head in the crook of Nime's neck and cries. "Like I can handle it now. I- thank you. Thank you so, so much, Nime."
She stays in the woman's arms for a long, long time, overfilled with joy and gratitude. Eventually, though, she pulls away and steps back into her pants.
"I, uh, I'm going for a walk after breakfast. Bein a agent o Iomedae again, I, uh, feel I should be ppropriately attired. Thank you again, Nime. I love ya dearly. Let's get you bacon."
She replaces her sword to her hip and pulls a shirt over her head. Then the paladin walks away, leaving her many coats and scarves atop her shield and behind her entirely.
Nime's happiness is displayed across her face as her friend walks away. She reaches up and wipes the tears from her eyes and, after a moment, steps over to her weapon and pulls a handkerchief from her bag. She wipes her nose and then shoves it back into the bag. She reaches down and grabs her hat and drops it onto her head.
Walking back down the pier she pauses and looks down at the pile of discarded clothing Calendula left behind. Her grin widens again before she reaches down and gathers the garments in her hands and shoves them along with the shield into her bag. She takes a deep breath and continues along.
She's interrupted by a soft cough from the direction of her family home. "Yes, Mother?" she asks, noting the woman standing in the doorway. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Nialta asks with a raised eyebrow. Nime glances back at the pier and then back to the woman with a confused expression on her face. "I don't think so. Calendula left her guilt behind, but I don't think she needs that anymore."
The older woman's eyes glance meaningfully down at Nime's naked form. Nime's eyes follow. The oracle then sighs and rolls those same eyes. "Really, Mother? Does it bother you that much that I walk around with nothing hiding the body the gods themselves gave me?"
Not wanting an argument when the morning has held so much joy for her, Nime hands her glaive to her mother and turns around to walk back out to the end of the pier. She reaches down and pulls her cotton shorts up her legs. When she returns to the small house, she reclaims her symbolic weapon and reaches out to kiss her mother on the cheek. "Happy?"
Nialta's eyes glance down to the woman's bare breasts. "Happier," she corrects.
"They're just breasts, Mother; Everyone has them - including you," the oracle remarks as she walks away to join Calendula, taking the warrior's arm in hers as she heads out on her quest for bacon.
The morning after you return to Magnimar, you gather outside your lodgings to prepare to meet with the Sihedron Council. Before you can depart, though, smoke begins to billow from the shadows of a nearby alley, and an alien howl assaults your ears, the sound filled with hunger.
From the smoke emerges a gaunt, long-legged quadruped with huge, soulless eyes and a toothy maw. The lean creature moves with a predatory grace as it stalks towards you!
"It will resist non magical weapons and mind magic!" Shenuska calls, meeting the creatures gaze squarely. "It's gaze can be resisted!"
She launches a barrage of magic missiles at the beast.
"Wait; it has a gaze thing?" Theo asked, already pulling at time's flow around him and his allies.
Shenuska's magic missiles slam into the creature, leaving bloody welts behind. No sooner has Theodric used his magic to speed the party than the monster tugs at the flow of time as well, counteracting the sorcerer's spell!
"What a strange creature," Nime says, looking at the being with a tipped head. "That could be quite dangerous loosed upon the city, we're quite lucky we just happened to be here." She turns and smiles at the others with satisfaction.
She then begins a prayer calling for Shelyn's indulgence.
Scarfless, coatless, and clad in a shimmering, golden breastplate Calendula charges the not-a-dog when she sees it. As her blood grows hot and she draws her sword, the armor changes color to a dull, worked steel, the only remaining traces of gold being a starburst on her chest, surrounding the hilt of a sword- Iomedae's holy symbol. She impales the thing, making no comment about its mother or its ugly face.
Feeling his attempts to bend time be countered, Theo instead wreathed his hand in lightning and moved in to try and electrocute the creature.
Shenuska sticks to what seems to work and attempts to haste the group in turn - if the creature continues to spend time countering the spell then it isn't trying to eat her friends!
Rudrik grumbles "Make up yer mind already!" as time bends and distorts around him, but nonetheless moves straight into the line of fire.
You assault the hound with swift fervor, Rudrik slicing into its flank while Calendula smites it with her gleaming blade. Theodric's shocking grasp finishes it off, and it collapses, thrashing and bleeding, before dissolving into wisps of greasy mist.
Ignoring the fading mists, Nime steps closer to Calendula and looks her up and down. She smiles. "That armor suits you," She says with a nod.
She turns back to make her way to meet with the council. "Armor? Suit? Hmph." She tips her head to the side as she walks. "I think someone smarter than me could have made a joke about that, but I'm glad that's not me because it's not a joking matter."
"What was a Hound of Tindalos doing here?" Shenuska muses as the creatures body dissolves into nothingness. "They normally come after time-travellers or those who otherwise meddle with time. But what Theo and I do is barely even affecting time - it's strange."
Nime frowns. "We haven't been tampering with time," she says with confidence. "At least we haven't yet." She thinks for a moment. "Perhaps we will. I'll have to have a talk with my future self if that's the case." She raises an eyebrow. "Time is not something with which my future self should be playing with."
"Maybe the Runelords were in stasis, or in another dimension, or something, and the Hound smelled them when uh... when we got the... um... the sihedron... broken piece thingy?" suggests Rudrik halfheartedly. Clearly not his forte.
"You might be on the right path there, Rudrik - my history's not great but I'd be shocked if any of them didn't consider researching time travel or the like to avoid Earthfall. At least a few of them were powerful enough for it to be theoretically possible. Although if it was a Sihedron shard that drew the Hound here, then it certainly took its time responding. The shards were all recovered years ago."
"Thank you Nime," Calendula coughs as her armor returns to its shimmering gold. "I used to have a set similar to this. Felt welcomin ta put it back on again, tell you hwat."
She stays out of the discussion about lost time, thoroughly confused by it.
"They mostly used extraplanar methods." Shenuska adds, her eyes suddenly far away. "Runewells and demi-planes. The Eyes of Desire, Avarice..." She suddenly gives herself a shake and seems to snap back. "There's long been suspicions that Sorshen's was hidden beneath Korvosa - that's how..." She waves a hand vaguely up and down her own form. "This happened..."
"Anyway - we're going to be late! Time waits for no-one!" She says, smiling at her own joke.
When you finally arrive at Heidmarch Maonr, you're eagerly welcomed and ushered into the council room where Sheila Heidmarch waits for you, along with Koriah Azmeren and a dark-haired woman with pointed ears and goatlike horns.
"Welcome back," Sheila says. "I'm glad that you all survived the perils of Hollow Mountain. What did you learn there?"
"Thank you Nime," Calendula coughs as her armor returns to its shimmering gold. "I used to have a set similar to this. Felt welcomin ta put it back on again, tell you hwat."
Nime smiles in response. "It looks good on you. Like that's where it should be and it likes it.
~~~~~
"We learned that Alaznist isn't there anymore. She's left," Nime says simply. "And while that might be a good thing for Hollow Mountain, I don't think that will benefit the rest of the world." The oracle frowns.
"And the runelord Sorshen may be involved again," she continues. "Not Not-Ieldana, Shenuska in Sorshen's form," she says, pointing at the psychic. "But the actual woman. Or at least an echo of her."
"We've learned from a mutated alchemist who hasn't betrayed us yet that there may be a plot to loose a plague afoot in the city."
She looks around at the others. "What else have we learned? Oh, yes!" Her hand drops to rub her shorts-covered posterior. "We've learned that even if you're careful, if you get carried away you can still end up with splinters in your bottom from having sex on a wooden table. At least I learned that. Someone else might have learned that, but they haven't mentioned it to me."
"And I've also learned that even though four decades may have passed, sometimes your parents still treat you as if you were in your twenties."
Shenuska lets Nime give her version, and then follows it up with a factual and succinct account of what happened. "And then Thybidos moved on to the Boneyard." She concludes. "There was a wave of power when that happened. Alaznist must be aware of what has happened, so we should probably move on and follow up leads quickly."
She doesn't mention Sorshen's involvement.
Nime listens raptly as Shenuska reframes her summary in much clearer terms. Once she's finished, the oracle turns back to Sheila. "Yes, exactly," she says with satisfaction. She turns back to the psychic. "But you didn't explain about Sorshen," she adds.
"We've heard rumors about a strange new affliction that’s been striking vagrants in Underbridge—a sinister sickness that turns ordinary people into monsters," Sheila says. "It sounds like this alchemist might have been telling the truth. I think putting a stop to that should be your first priority now."
"You said Sorshen is involved?" Koriah asks. "And you're sure she's the real deal, not just somebody pretending to be her? Please, don't be cagey with the details." While the half-elf seems worried, she doesn't appear to be surprised.
Indeed, the horned woman, who has been silent thus far, leans forward to hear your response better, her eyes fixed on Shenuska.
Nime tips her head at Shenuska's silence on the matter. Her eyes look away for a moment before stepping close to the psychic and putting a long arm around her shoulders.
"A shade of Sorshen has manifested itself to ... us," she says, looking back at the council members and the newcomer. "She gave us information on dealing with Thybidos. She didn't seem to be interested in sex at all, which I know seems most unusual considered her specialty. But it might have been because she didn't have a physical form." She looks thoughtful for a moment. "I'm not sure why that would make a difference. The mind is the strongest sex organ, after all." She shrugs and continues. "Her advice, so far, seems credible." She glances at Shenuska for confirmation before turning back to her audience. "Oh, and I think she said something about finding her in Korvosa. Which is a wonderful coincidence since I've always wanted to go there."
Having finished her explanation she looks over the newcomer. "Your horns are beautiful. Do you polish them?"
The tiefling woman smiles. "Thank you. Yes, I do. There was a time when I was ashamed of my fiendish heritage, filing down my horns, trying to hide my... extra bits." She waves a hand, and you realize there are six fingers on it instead of five. "But I've recently come to embrace the things that make me different. That make me special."
"This is Ayavah," Koriah says, "a talented local artist who has purchased many art objects from the Pathfinders who work for Lady Heidmarch. Especially erotic depictions of succubi. She came to us recently claiming to have dire news 'for the council's heroes.' At first, we thought she meant the Sihedron Heroes, but when she clarified she was seeking you out, we were intrigued."
Ayavah nods. "I'm not just a sculptor, but a sorcerer whose gift of magic comes from something more than study--I am destined for greater things. I receive visions now and then, and a few days ago, I saw all of you. You were standing side by side with Runelord Sorshen before a vast, churning portal. The vision was maddeningly vague, but I'm certain it represents something in the future, and if you and Sorshen are not present before this portal, wherever it may be, something dire will befall Varisia. For I caught a glimpse of something beyond the portal--an elephantine behemoth thundering through reality towards this world." The tiefling suppresses a shudder.
"She's telling the truth," Sheila chimes in, "so our magic has indicated. Though I'm not quite convinced the source of her vision is these sorcerous powers she claims to possess. But whatever the case, I think it would be prudent to follow up on Sorshen's invitation to find her in Korvosa, perhaps after you deal with the plague in this city."
Nime's skin takes on a slightly violet hue as she flushes. "You should never have to hide what you are," she declares with vehemence. "Who you are is the result of the choices you make every day. What you are is by the choice of the gods - you should never have to hide that. And it looks like the gods made you beautiful and special." She smiles and takes a breath in an attempt to calm her ire.
Her smile broadens. "Shelyn whispers secrets to me as well," she says with a knowing look. "Prophecies can be tricky things. But I know we're destined to save the world so this portal is probably what we're meant to stop."
Nime looks around at her companions. "This plague sounds like a dream I had where we all turned into monsters. We should stop that. I wouldn't like turning into a monster."
Rudrik looks dismayed about something, then shrugs, his armor rustling, and says, "I've been told I'm a monster before."
"All right, so, this portal in the dream, and us getting Sorshen there, is this like, we have to get the real Sorshen? Or if we had, y'know, a close simul... samul... simul... y'know, close enough copy, would that work?"
Ayavah blushes slightly at Nime's praise. To Rudrik, she says, "I saw two women who looked like Sorshen standing side by side. I think you'll have to convince he real Runelord to accompany you."
"I've been called lots of things," Nime says, patting Rudrik on the arm. She frowns for just one moment. "Some of them not very nice." She looks him the eye. "We are not who people say we are. We are who we choose to be."
She tips her head to one side and then rolls her eyes. "I don't even know what a 'curvă' is, anyways."
The oracle turns back to Ayavah. "That goes for you as well - don't let people dictate who you are. Now we need to talk to Maga Szuul - our non-betraying alchemist friend about where these plague people might be located. We'll deal with them and then we're off to Korvosa."
"And what of Viralane Barvisai? Have you decided what her fate shall be?" Sheila asks.
Shenuska gives a languid shrug at the mention of Viralane. "She's a self absorbed mercenary. I don't think she has any loyalty to this Peacock Cult, they just offered her the easiest way to be free of her curse. Recruit her for the Pathfinders if you like, offering her wealth and the removal of the curse that stops her singing and she'll likely do whatever you say. In the end we just need her not to bother us again." Her tone makes it absolutely clear that she couldn't care less what happens to the diva.
"She doesn't sing as well as Melodie d'Valois anyway."
"Whether she sings as well as Miss d'Valois or not, her voice is still a gift from Shelyn. It was given her to create joy and lift people's spirits," Nime says with a frown. "I don't know what her fate is meant to be and perhaps I'm not meant to, but I refuse to believe that a gift like that is destined to be unused."
She remains silent for a moment, her head tipped as if listening to the breeze.
"I am at a loss. Perhaps it's just not her time yet and she's meant to bear it a little while longer. I was angry with her and maybe that was my lesson to learn. I feel so inadequate at times. Someone much wiser than me should decide her fate."
Nime's eyes again seem draw to the tiefling's horns. She smiles. "Have you ever considered learning to play the piano?" she asks. "The extra fingers could really come in handy. For other things as well, I'm sure."
"Sculpting is my passion of choice. Though I have other passions, as well. And yes, I've put my fingers to good use. As well as my... other extra bits." Ayavah smiles enigmatically.
At Nime and Shenuska's words, Sheila nods. "Very well. We will deliberate further about Miss Barvisai until we determine what best to do with her. In the meantime, see what you can do about the cult and the plague. You know where to find us should you need further advice."
Ayavah follows you outside Heidmarch Manor. She glances around before stepping closer to you. "There's on more thing I want to show you, but I thought it best not to advertise it too much yet--the symbol of my faith." The tiefling reaches into her dress and pulls forth a medallion inscribed with an oddly familiar symbol--a moon with midnight-blue lips and a seven-pointed crown. It's the same as the small brand on Shenuska's cheek. "I belong to the Cult of the Redeemer Queen. We worship Nocticula, but not as the demon lord that most think her to be. The cult has long believed that she has long been on the cusp of transcending her nature and rising as a nonevil goddess of artists, midnight, and outcasts—an event that, should signs and portents from clerics in the cult be accurate, may be in the process of unfolding at this very moment.
"I know exactly where my vision came from--Nocticula herself wants you to ally with Sorshen. Like the Redeemer Queen, Sorshen is working to abandon her past and rebuild herself into something new, something greater, and something unhindered by clichéd obsessions and physical gratifications. When you meet with her, you will see the truth for yourselves."
"Uhhh..." says Rudrik wisely. "All right."
He looks a bit lost. All this business of gods and goddesses and rising demons and whatnot is rather over his head.