For dotting, if you wish....
"You may follow me, ." The acolyte of Pharasma said, the young man dwarfed by the imposing open doors of the temple to the Lady of Graves. The wrought iron gates stood thrust out, creating a maw of deep blackness, hiding the interior. The man turns to lead her into the depths but then pauses, adding, "Your animal may follow. There are no congregants inside as the temple is closed."
Together the two of them, and Tathir pass the forbidding entrance into the waiting gloom. Kudera rarely entered the temples of the Gray Lady and not only because the use of darkness and dimness was not to her personal taste (she did worship a goddess of the sun after all). The church of Pharasma tended to be a self-sufficient group, not given tot he bold display of proselytism of other faiths, seeming quite content that all beings, eventually, came to their mistress.
Kudera's boots were soft on the flagstones inside, echoing into the high vaults above. As the suli's eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw the broad nave laid out ahead of them, flanked by rows of empty wooden pews. Above, the ceiling was vaulted in the conventional Pharasma style, with fluted ribs spreading out from imposing columns. Flying buttresses stuck out from the side walls, interspersed with narrow, stained glass windows. The Almas temple was not very large, but it was well made, a worthy miniature of the grand temples in Ustalav, Varisia or Taldor.
As they walked, Kudera reflected on the note in her pocket, which had arrived at the Sarenrae temple that very morning.
We desire the presence of Kudera Riviani at the temple, at her earliest convenience. This is a matter of great import so we implore the good woman to come. She is under no obligation to provide any service by arriving.
Your colleague and ally, Sovoh Folkrah
Dawnfather Merriloc Tombias had assured Kudera that Sovoh, the highest priestess of the local Pharasmins was an honest and upright (if a bit formal) leader of the fellow church. They usually kept to themselves however, and the old man could not remember a time they had so blatantly asked for aid. It had been that surprise, along with her usual sense of duty that had brought Kudera to this cold place.
Finally they pass up the nave and find a thick wooden side door, embossed with a stylized rendering of a human skeleton,e very bone carefully raised and polished to shine. It is surmounted by a grinning skull and a halo of dark power. The acolyte ignores this rather intimidating artwork however and opens the door quietly. The young man waves Kudera inside, but does not follow.
Inside is a medium sized office, dark and cool, sparsely furnished made of the same dark stone as the rest of the church. A large wooden desk, ornately carved takes up most of the room. Rows of wooden cabinets line the walls, carefully closed and neatly ordered. On the other side of the imposing desk is a halfling woman, sitting in a high-backed chair, raised to see easily over the human sized furniture.
She is grave looking, with brown hair turning white with age, and a lined, weary face. The bright green eyes look troubled and underlined with heavy bags, and her shoulders are slightly slumped. Long experienced tells Kudera this woman hasn't got much sleep lately. She wears deep blue robes, simply cut and undecorated, which spill out of sight.
She waves a hand to an empty chair across from her, hand passing over an object covered in a jet black cloth on her desk.
"I am glad you have come Kudera Riviani. Rarely have I so needed the assistance that I am about to ask you." Her voice, despite her small size, is actually rather deep and solemn. "I trust all is well in the House of the Everlight?"
Kudera's not particularly pleased with the current situation. She's never directly aided Pharasmans before. She's also never entered one of their churches. It's quite depressing.
Still, the request for aid had come through Dawnfather Tombias himself, so Kudera couldn't refuse. The fact that high priestess Sovoh had apparently turned out to be a halfling also surprised Kudera. Andoran is far more free than Qadira.
The inquisitor waves to Tathir to sit down and he does so in one corner of the room. He seems to realize that they've finally found something to do, so he's content to wait a bit longer.
Kudera takes a seat at the offered chair and says to the halfling, "Everything is well. Are you Sovoh?"
The halfling frowns, but seemingly at herself. Then she says, "Yes, I am Sovoh Folkrah, High Priestess of the Almas Temple. I apologize for not introducing myself. I have held this position for so long, I have become accustomed to being recognized. This is rather egotistical of me."
The older woman shakes her head, making her short locks shake slightly. She looks to the cracked open door and calls out, "That will be all Merin. Please, make sure the hallway is clear." Without responding, the young acolyte closes the door with a soft snap. Distant footsteps fade away from the other side of the thick door.
Sovoh then moves her hand slightly and Kudera sees a key float across the room and fit snugly into the door, then turning. There is a loud clicking sound as the door locks itself. Then Sovoh raises her hand and says, "Excuse me, what I am to say is of utmost importance and demands the greatest of precautions. I am about to cast a spell on the door that will befuddle any eavesdroppers."
The halfling mutters a few words and Kudera senses a indistinct field surround the door. Sovoh nods to herself and says, "Thank you for your understanding."
She settles herself back into her chair, eyeing Kudera. "I suppose you must wonder why I have asked you here? It is not every day our Church must ask for aid in the further of our duties. Few things, great or small, obstruct the Lady of Graves."
A short, pregnant pause then, "I have asked a few in the city about you, Kudera Rivani. A most impressive resume, with deeds ranging from Taldor to Molthune. More importantly then your exact actions however has been your commitment to duty and dedication to finishing a task set before you."
"I have a task that requires a great deal of both commitment and dedication." She leans forward, elbows on the large desk, easily dwarfing the small halfling. "Do you know of the death of Abalair Starsight?"
Kudera watches as Sovoh locks and shields the entrance to the room. The Dawnseeker is growing increasingly intrigued by the high priestess's task for her, whatever that may turn out to be. That Sovoh apparently doesn't even want other Pharasmans to hear is all the more interesting.
Kudera merely nods when Sovoh discusses her deeds. After speaking with Dawnfather Tombias, she's come to accept that some people will insist on complimenting her, even if she would prefer otherwise.
When Sovoh mentions Abalair Starsight, Kudera tries to recall any mention of the name that she's heard before, but draws a blank.
So, in reply, Kudera simply says, "No."
Sovoh nods, "Before I begin, I must ask you to keep everything I say between us. As you can tell from my precautions, some of what I will discuss would have rather...explosive consequences if it became general knowledge, particularly amongst those of my faith. However, I have always found the church of Sarenrae to be sober and trustworthy in such matters and Dawnfather Tombias in particular to be worthy of such trust. I hope you prove to in his imagine in this matter."
The woman takes a deep breath, pauses, then plunges in, "Abaliar Starsight was a soothsayer and astrologer of some note in Almas. Not one of those 'fortune tellers' in the cheaper districts but a man of letters who studied the stars and contemplated the divine. I discussed such matters with him frequently and considered him both an intelligent and talented colleague. Prophecy is one of Pharasma's domains, after all, although few study in this Age of Lost Omens."
She shakes her head. 'I also counted him as a personal friend."
"He died under mysterious circumstances three days ago." The halfling waves her hand suddenly, as if cutting Kudera off, "I do not mean 'mysterious circumstances'as if he was found in a puddle of blood with a knife in his chest. Nothing as dramatic as that, at least as first. Abalair was found dead in his study, perhaps of a heart attack."
"He was not a member of any other church so, as usual in such cases, we were summoned to take care and bury the body. As a friend, I attended the acolytes to his study. Once there however, I felt a very strange presence, an odd coldness. Drawing on my divine powers I soon was able to discern something akin to, but not quite like that of a ghost. Together with the acolytes, I stuided this strange thing. "
The halfling looks directly into Kudera's eyes, "I have led this Temple for forty years, servant of the Dawnflower. I have seen beings of all types die and go on to my godess. I have even had the misfortune of interacting with several cases of undead and even those who sought to defeat death through various arcane stratagems. This was not a ghost or a mystical projection...it was...a soul. But one unable to proceed to the Boneyard. I have never heard of, or seen, such a thing."
"I dismissed my students and began to commune with my goddess." She smiles if Kudera shows any surprise at this and says, "I am not without some powers of my own."
"In any case, I could tell the strange being was fading, becoming harder to detect so I felt time was passing. It did not take long for my goddess to favor me. When I explained what I had discovered she was...." Sovoh pauses her, eyes lost in thought as if remembering. Something disturbing.
"She was troubled. I have never heard this of the Lady of Graves before. Doubt was not something I have ever associated with the Gray Lady. Then she gave me the directions of a ritual, one which I will not speak of her, and never again. It took much of me and a great part of my power was lost in doing it."
The weariness on her face grows in intensity as if merely speaking of it saps her strength. 'Pharasma told me the soul had been damaged in some way that prevented it from being carried along to the River of Souls, as it should. She could not tell me why, or how this happened. The ritual bound the soul, before it dissolved into nothingness, to a physical object on this plane."
Her eyes stray to the covered object on the table.
Kudera listens more and more intently as Sovoh continues speaking. While she had been interested initially based on Dawnfather Tombias's recommendation, she is beginning to realize that the task the high priestess has in mind for her is one of the utmost importance. A task Sarenrae will want her to do.
The inquisitor also has a new respect for the halfling. The high priestess has been faithful to her goddess and it has taken a toll on her. Kudera admires her commitment.
Once Sovoh finishes speaking, Kudera looks down at the covered object. Can a soul really be contained in such a small thing? How did any of this happen? So many questions run through Kudera's head as she tries to assess the situation.
She narrows down her questions to a few when she finally says, "Thank you for trusting me with this information. The circumstances are unique. If I may ask a few questions...? Did you get any indication of the way in which it was damaged? You also say the soul was fading. Are you saying it would have actually ceased to exist? Is that actually possible? Were there any clues in Starsight's study? Was he working on something?"
A ghost of a smile crosses the priestesses lips, "Your questions are much the same as my own. Sadly however, your answers will be as unsatisfactory as my own."
"As for how it was damaged, no. As I said it is entirely out of my experience. Previous to this I would have said it was flatly impossible. The nature of souls is bound to the very fabric of this plane, and indeed, of the universe itself. When I asked this of my goddess she was silent."
"As for the soul's vanishing...again, I was not aware but my goddess, as well as the ritual, seemed to imply as such. What that portends is....more troubling then I would like to admit." The halfling shakes her head, as if trying to dispel an evil thought.
"And for your last question, I have no idea. I found nothing out of the ordinary in his study, surely nothing to point to such dark and deep mysteries. And I doubt even the most zealous or learned investigator would find much. For this relates to the task I have asked you here for."
Without warning she sweeps the black cloth aside, and it ripples soundlessly away revealing.....a somewhat tarnished candlestick.
Somewhat apologetically Sovoh says, "Time was of great import. I know that gems or ornate staffs are customary for such things in stories but I did not have time for that. Please do not judge Abalair or his soul on this vessel."
Then the halfling goes on, " Before she released me from my commune with her, she laid a task upon me. I am to transport this vessel, and the soul contained herein, to the Boneyard and present it to Pharasma herself. Not only so it may be properly judged and conveyed to the proper afterlife, but, I think, to be questioned. My goddess is, in some ways, as puzzled as I am about this matter."
Sovoh waves a hand at her aged, small body, "However, my goddess over estimates my skills. I am not fit for such a journey. However, I would do it without care for myself and die int he attempt if my goddess wished it. For if a cleric of Pharasma fears death, she has done a poor job of learning her faith."
"But no, for the Gray lady imparted other wisdom to me, of which I will not speak of here. But it binds me to this place, to study other problems that are linked to this. So I ask you, a great traveler and warrior to carry out this task. To carry this vessel to the Boneyard and present it to the Mother of Souls herself, or at least her Inner Court. What say you to that, Kudera Rivani?"
Kudera isn't at all satisfied with the answers she receives. Perhaps only Pharasma will have answers on this matter, but apparently even she is uncertain about what happened.
The inquistive part of Kudera decides she needs to be certain that the high priestess speaks truthfully, so - as subtlety as she can - Kudera attempts to discern any lies that might have been spoken.
Once she's done that, Kudera considers the priestess's request. This task is unlike any the dervish has done before, and almost certainly unlike any other she may yet perform.
Sarenrae's pull tells her this is what she is supposed to do. That she's obligated to take on this task.
"If I say yes, how am I to get there? Will you or someone in Almas use a spell to transport me to the Boneyard? If not, is it even possible for someone still alive to travel via the River of Souls?"
Questions, so many questions. It's inherent to Kudera's nature. If she's going to take on a task, she needs to know everything there is to know. She's not going to do this halfway.
Kudera detects no lies from the halfling, but she does see a slight knowing smile cross the cleric's lips at a few points.
Sovoh looks a bit surprised that Kudera is already planning the task at hand. "My contacts said you were formidable, I suppose they were correct." She says half to herself, before going on.
"I cannot transport you to the Boneyard, for that is a rare power granted to few." then she adds, voice solemn, "At least, rare to send a body and not just a soul. That power is given to every common knife and illness."
"There is a grand temple to Pharasma in Oparra, one of the largest in Avistan. I have been in contact with my counterpart there, a man named Devion Kammenti. He has, in his possession, a way to get you safely to the Boneyard without you having to cross its wilds."
"In fact crossing Taldor will be more difficult then navigating the Boneyard."
Indeed, rumors of turmoil in Taldor had filled Almas for months recently. While everything was shrouded in mystery and uncertainty, there were stories of unrest, violence and even talk of civil war filtering across the border. Kudera had even heard of ships being captured by 'rebel' pirates in Taldane waters, a highly unusual occurrence.
"Merely give your name and business at the Grand Temple and you will be assisted. I believe Devion will may even go with you to attend to our goddess and learn what he can."
Suddenly the halfling woman looks very old and very tired, "We live in strange times, when even a cleric of the Grady Lady is questioned for truth." She holds up a wrinkled hand, "No, no, I do not begrudge you this safety. Would I, in your place, entirely trust a member of the Dawnflower with such a strange story? Probably not.But what I say is the earnest truth and the little I have kept from you is on the order of my goddess. Which I am sure you, of all people, will not judge me. For what is our task except to serve the higher powers?"
Kudera relaxes, but only slightly, when she detects no lies from Sovoh. She has indeed heard of the turmoil in Taldor. She hopes the congregation she helped when last she was there has been able to weather whatever unrest is going on.
The dervish nods to Sovoh and says, "I will do this task you ask of me, as I see no way I could rightfully refuse. Sarenrae is who I serve, and so I shall do this in her name.
"Do you have the means to teleport me and Tathir to Taldor, or is there risk to the soul in doing so?"
"You are quick to spot the problems." Sovoh says, nodding to the humble looking candlestick on her desk. The dim light of the lamp catches an edge, making it shine dully.
"Frankly, the ritual I preformed is beyond my understanding and it is only through the will and grace of my goddess that I succeeded at all. I do guess however, that the bond between soul and object is weak however, for it is highly unnatural. I would not risk teleportation or any such magic at all. Even the planeshift in Oparra worries me but there is no other way."
"It is not only for Abalair's sake that I am wary however. For I feel that there is more to this then simply one unusual soul. That is why I implore you to take this journey, despite the risks. There may be more at stake here then meets the eye."
The halfling sits back, as if lighter at letting this heavy weight off her chest. 'The path I leave to you. You are a great traveler and know such things far better then I. What assistance can I offer? Our temple is small but well regarded in this city."
Kudera considers her options. She doesn't want to travel by sea. If a storm comes up or if she has issues with the crew, her trip could be significantly delayed. Since teleportation isn't an option and she doesn't have the ability to fly... that leaves travel by land as her most viable choice.
"I'll travel by land, following the coastline from Almas to Oppara. That should give less angles from which to attack me should I encounter bandits or other dangers.
"I can stop off in Souston, Triela, Ridonport, or Cassomir if I need supplies, assuming they aren't completely beset by Taldor's current troubles. If not, the sea should provide adequate resources.
"As for assistance, any other information you can provide would of course be appreciated, but I suspect you have already disclosed everything you know. I will need a small, hard case in which to transport the candle. It appears fragile at first sight, and I would rather it not break accidentally during the trip.
"If you would be so kind as to provide a meal for Tathir and me, we can be on our way before midday."
"I have given thought to that." Sovoh says and reaches below her desk, revealing a simple but stout wooden box. The halfling woman opens revealing a felt interior, padded and firm. Carefully, reverently, she lifts the simple candlestick and places it inside. A few straps hold it gently in place, then she closes and locks the lid. The cleric pushes a small key toward Kudera. "It is well made but a simple box. Any enchantment that might make it more durable also risks harming the vessel. I would not care what to think if the candlestick was broken in this Plane..."
"As for information, I know little beyond the rumor of the city. I do know the troubles in Taldor are worse then most believe however, judging from what Devion suggested. You may find more organized resistance then bandits on the roads."
The woman nods and says, "A meal of course can be provided. I shall have the acolytes prepare it. Do you or Tathir require anything special in regards to food?" For the first time she eyes the lion directly, as if happy to turn to lesser matters. "I imagine steak? Or I may be able to get a nice haunch of stag from the market."
Kudera carefully takes the wooden box and the key. She puts the box into her pack and the key into her pocket.
“Thank you.”
When the topic turns to food, Kudera looks over at Tathir who looks more interesting when Sovoh mentions steak. He sticks his tongue out as his mouth salivates.
Kudera smiles and turns back to Sovoh. “Steak sounds good for Tathir. As long as it’s raw. I have no special requirements, other than that my own food be cooked.”
Whenever the time comes to bid the high priestess, her fellow Sarenites, and Almas goodbye, Kudera says to Sovoh, “Thank you for entrusting me with this task. I will accomplish it as expeditiously as possible, though I suspect it will take at least a couple weeks to do so safely. I hope we will have more certainty about matters when next we speak. Farewell.”
To Dawnfather Tombias and the other Sarenites, Kudera says, “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. It’s quite distinct from any task I’ve undertaken before. Perhaps I will have another story for you to record when next we meet. Dawnflower’s blessings to you.”
Say what you want about Pharasma, they at least can supply a food meal. Kudera is treated to some of the best food she has eaten in months, with piles of roast beef, mashed potatoes, fresh baked bread and bowls of cut fruit. For his part Tathir gets a large raw steak, which he greedily devours, and a large bone to politely gnaw.
Sovoh lets her leave without much ceremony, hoping not to stir curiosity from the other clerics and priests. However, as she walks away, Kudera feels more then one set of eyes on her.
At the Sarenrae temple, all know better then to ask questions. If Kudera could talk of her mission she would have already. When Dawnfather Tombias pulls her in for a hug, the Suli feels something drop into her hand.
"A little extra luck, maybe." The older man says, smiling, "We found it gathering dust in a backroom. I'm sure you will find a use for it." Glancing down Kudera sees what looks like a crystal leaf in her palm, light green.
"May the Everlight watch your steps and light your way, Kudera Rivani." The entire temple turns out to wave her goodbye, many of them having taken a liking to the serious but well traveled Suli woman.
Before leaving Almas Kudera uses her divine powers to gather more information about the road ahead. Flashes of scenes and events move in front of her eyes, magically gleaned from the merchants and travelers around her.
Burned villages, blocked roads, large groups of men on the march. A few times she spots the banners of noble hoses flapping in the breeze, carried by armored figures on horses. The famous canals of Taldor choked with refugees, fleeing smoldering towns. However, there are few details or names. She does get a sense the Androan roads are in good repair and the way to Taldor is clear and that maybe Cassomir, on the border, is still open to travelers.
Kudera thanks Dawnfather Tombias for the Snapleaf and places it around her neck for easy access. She wonders how it managed to get into a backroom of the Sarenite temple, but decides that’s one mystery she doesn’t need to solve.
With her farewells said, Kudera and Tathir head out onto the road toward Taldor. From her spell, she’s hopeful the path will be clear at least to the border.
The next few days pass without much event. Kudera and Tathir are no strangers to the road and quickly find themselves falling into their usual rhythms. The road is neat and well-repaired, an ancient imperial legacy from Taldor, dating back to when the entirety of Andoran was a mere province of that empire. The way is level, with few washouts or rough spots, and clearly the local communities do a good job of keeping their areas in good condition. When they cross a stream or bog, there are usually bridges instead of the usual fords, and Kudera actually feels a bit spoiled moving along the flat, paved surface.
All around her the Carpenden Plains swell. The breadbasket of Andoran, the plains are gentle rolling hills dotted with farming villages and small hamlets. Rows of neatly planted orchards, small fish ponds and waving fields of wheat dominate the area. It is a fruitful and rural area, with very little of the bustle of the city Kudera had, without noticing, grown used to over the last few months. In a way it is nice to relax and see no other soul for a whole day of traveling. Tathir in particular seems to enjoy not being the center of attention.
They pass few others on the road, apart from locals with heavy wagons heading to a town market or other point. Most of these are content to nod to the suli, clearly not wanting to get mixed up with an obvious 'adventurer' like Kudera. A simple folk with simple desires for life. Surrounded by such rich crops and calm people, it was hard to imagine danger of any kind in front of her.
Before long she is approaching Souston, an Andoran 'city' with perhaps a thousand souls, directly on the coast. Long before she reaches the town proper however, her rural ideal is marred. A pillar of black smoke streaks the fair, cloudless sky, an ugly sign of violence. Something was wrong in the town. Quickening her pace, she arrives at the town near dusk, worried what she might find. Despite taking care she senses no danger on the road, no sign of monsters or bandits.
Soon she finds the town itself, a half circle of wooden buildings around a small ocean bay, complete with wharves poking into the waves. Or at least it had been. Now the buildings were ruined piles of burned ash and the wharves pulled into the water, a few piers drunkenly standing. All around the ruins Kudera sees people moving around, pushing aside rubble or clearing the simple streets. Men,w omen, even children busy at work. The residents? Already, to ward off the spring chill, fires are being lit here and there to warm the workers.
Kudera had hoped to have an easy journey at least to the border of Taldor, but that is not to be. Seeing the smoke and the rubble, she wonders what calamity had befallen the town.
After commanding Tathir to remain behind a nearby pile of rubble so as to not alarm the locals, she approaches the nearest person and says, “What happened here?”
The citizen seem surprised to see Kudrea there but not anxious, as if they don't expect danger from the land. The person Kudera questions, a young woman with braided brown hair and dirty, worn face says, "A sea raid. Burned the whole town to the ground."
She turns to Kudera properly and says, "Traveler? I am sorry but you will find little hospitality here tonight. Much of our food was lost in the attack, not to mention places to stay. Going to be living out of the caves for awhile, I think." She is sad, but not overwhelmed by events.
Two men come up, framed by the dying sunlight, one middle aged, the other old with a gray beard covering a gap-toothed mouth.
The younger one looks at Kudera and says, "Who might you be stranger? You find us on an ill night indeed."
Kudera grows grim as the woman explains what happened. She had apparently made the right call in traveling by land.
”Pirates? This far into the Inner Sea? Were they flying any flags?”
To the two men, Kudera says. “Kudera Rivani, Dawnseeker of the church of Sarenrae. Is anyone in need of healing or other aid?”
"Not pirates." The younger man says but the older man breaks in voice worn and aged.
"I've seen pirates raze this town twice in my life, young lady. Once when I was a lad and once when I was a young man like my son here. Both times we went to the caves and waited them out. We did it this time too..."
The younger man, his son, shakes his head and says, "It wasn't pirates this time. They were flying the ensign of the Taldane Imperial Navy, at least that is what we saw before we ran. Troubles must be worst there then we thought." The few people standing around nod in agreement.
At Kudera's last words the young man shakes his head grimly, "Most of us made it to the caves and waited there. The few who stayed behind...they won't need healing."
Kudera grimaces as the man indicates that some of the townsfolk didn’t make it. That ships bearing the official markings of the Taldane Navy were responsible is worrying to the dervish. Could they really be operating under official Taldane authority? Kudera guesses she’ll find out soon enough.
To the men, she says, “I’m sorry for your losses, but I’m glad to hear most of you made it out unharmed. I recommend sending a messenger to Almas as soon as possible to let them know what happened. Whether or not the raiders were operating officially under Taldane authority, the Andoran government needs to know about this. Hopefully they can prepare and prevent similar incidents in the future.
“I only intended to pass through this town, as it is not my destination, so if there is nothing I can assist you with that you couldn’t normally do yourselves, I will be on my way.”
The younger man, who seems to be some sort of community leader nods in agreement, "Not much to do except bury the dead, clear the ruins and start to rebuild. That and hope they don't come again. Pirates we can deal with, they come rarely and are despised by all. An on-going Taldor civil war? Dark times for everyone, if that is happening."
"I wish you well on your journey and hope you find better cities ahead. Last I heard, Triela is doing well but it is even closer to the border..."
They turn away back to work but the young woman stays behind. obviously working herself up she says, voice quick and fast, "I..I saw you had a holy symbol of Sarenrae around your neck. My husband..he was a follower of hers. Would you...would you say a prayer over him?"
She leads Kudera into the scattered ruins of the town, a waste of ash and smashed wood. The young woman stops near a standing pole, which she pointedly refuses to look at. At her feet is a figure, covered in tightly wound linen.
"We..found him hanging up there." Her words break down into tears as she drops to her knees.
Kudera finds herself unconsciously placing her hand on the hilt of the scimitar at her side as she looks at the wrapped body. This kind of evil is the kind that has to be stopped with the sword. No reasonable people would have done what they did to this town. Not to defenseless villagers.
Kneeling before the body, Kudera looks up into the sky while holding her holy symbol and prays, “Dawnflower, I pray that you would grant this man a swift journey to the Boneyard and a quick judgment to dwell in your holy realm. May he find peace with you in the afterlife. May your light shine on his wife as well and grant her the serenity to move forward.”
Standing up, Kudera places a hand on the woman’s shoulder and says to her, “Light and truth go with you. And Sarenrae’s blessings to you.”
The woman nods sadly at Kudera's words but says nothing. Like a ghost, Kudera leaves the townsfolk to their work, and their grief, and passes on.
As Kudera travels north and east, not much changes. The landscape is still bright and bountiful, the hills gentle and green. Almost in a mockery to the suffering just behind her. The roads grow even more silent however, with few wagons on this stretch of her journey. There is a sense of wariness int he air, as if the closer she gets to the border the more the landscape itself is aware of danger ahead.
However, she encounters no more open signs of turmoil or violence on her road. No burned fields, no plundered villages and thankfully no more corpses. A small blessing, one that she hadn't thought would be on her mind while traveling the usually peaceful Andoran countryside.
The road widens as she nears Triela, which is a much larger city. With over three thousand people, the city is an old one, dating back into the Imperial past (like the road beneath her feet). It was once an anchorage of the imperial navy and trading post, due to its strategic position at the mouth of the Sellen River. These days it was the final stopping point in the lumber trade in the lumber trade, a haunt of rough lumberjacks and gamblers after their pay. The town had a rough, although not evil, reputation. Often the first stop for Taldane merchants leaving the Empire, it would be a good place to gather news of the road ahead.
Coming up on it, Kudera sees the city spread out along the lightly wooded coast. It seems divided into two parts by a long, rocky bluff. Below the bluff, nearer the ocean, are rows of shanties and shack like buildings, probably where the lumberjacks stayed during their brief visits here. It has the rough and wild feeling of a boom town, or a gold rush mining village. Above the bluff the houses are fewer, finer and made of stone. She guesses there are taverns, inns and information to be found in either part of the city.
Kudera considers the city before her. Its two parts are quite the contrast. As much as her Sarenite instincts want her to visit the lower part, she knows her mission is too important to risk getting ambushed or worse.
While passing around the city could be faster, Kudera decides to head into the nicer part. With its proximity to Taldor, it’s possible the locals will know more about the situation in that country.
Kudera decides to go for the nicer part of town but as she approaches it, she sees something new. All around Triela there are groups of tents, makeshift homes and huddled wagons. She is confused while she walks up. Were these also the lumberjack homes? The confusion lasts until she comes right upon some of these ragged looking dwellings.
The men and women here look tired, forlorn, with dirty tattered clothes on their backs and small piles of possessions guarded zealously. They keep off the road, moving between one set of hovels and another through ruts of mud cut into the rich earth. Kudera hears people talking, arguing, some low singing and the accent reminds her not of the rough speech of lumberjacks but the slow, formal speech of Taldor.
Then it hits her. Refugees.
Here and there Kudera sees small groups of heavily armed men and women patrolling, moving around the refugees, as if looking for trouble. While not uniformed, they look organized and united, clearly some sort of local guard or mercenary band. Their faces are hard and show little tenderness for the assembled refugees, who are quick to hasten out of their way. Mostly the armed guards seem content to keep the main road clear but when they see Kudera a few block the road, hands on sword hilts.
"Who are you?" One says bluntly, a lean scarred man with a head of greasy black hair. Then, spotting Kudera's armor, weapons and other signs of wealth coughs and says, "Sorry ma'am. Didn't see you properly there. I assume you have business in the town, with one of the merchants maybe?"
Signs of the trouble in Taldor are becoming more apparent, it seems. Kudera wishes she could stay and help these refugees. There are sure to be Sarenites among them and others in need. But they seem healthy enough and she has a mission to accomplish.
When the men block her path, Kudera keeps an even face and says to the one who spoke, “I have business at a local inn. If you could direct me to a decent one, I would be appreciative.”
The man looks nonplussed for a moment and Kudera has a feeling the rough looking man would have better knowledge of where to find good dogfighting then a respectable inn. After glancing at his even less reputable looking friends he ventures, "The White Rose is the biggest one, ma'am. Right off the main road as soon as you enter in. Can't miss it."
He waves to let her pass, adding, "Mind that cat. No one will care if he bites one of these refugees, but trouble in town is another matter altogether. Keep him close."
The road ahead of Kudera is clear and she soon reaches the city gates, a gap in a stout wooden palisade. She is waved throughout without challanege and finds herself in the quiet streets upper class Triela. The streets are broad and paved with local white stone, shaded with tall trees. The buildings are spaced apart, allowing for neat grass gardens or a few fruit trees out front. Most seem to be houses, but there are shops and other places mixed in.
Like the mercenary had indicated there is a large stone building just inside the gate. Three stories and the largest building Kudera can see, it sprawls out from the side of the road in a myriad of branching offshoots and back rooms. Large flower beds front it, all containing only pure white roses. There is no sign but the Suli hardly needs one.
As she leaves the mercenaries, Kudera says, “You needn’t worry about my lion. He’s obedient, if not entirely tame.”
Standing in front of the large inn, she is a bit surprised to find no sign outside, but decides not to think much of it. She instructs Tathir to wait right outside and heads indoors.
Stepping inside, Kudera finds a large, cool room of stone, full of wooden tables. The floor is covered with old mosaics, half-worn away by the boots of decades, if not centuries. The glass windows are clean letting in a good deal of the day's sunlight. The place is nearly empty, with only three small groups, one unmistakably sailors wearing gray sea-leather, one of well-heeled merchants in the middle of an intense but quiet argument, and last but not least a crowd of more mercenaries looking quite out of place in the posh surroundings. The last keep glancing at the merchants as if looking for directions or awaiting orders. They don't see very friendly with each other and Kudera's trained eye sense tension among the mercenaries.
None of the groups catches her eye as Kudera comes in, but a thin man pops out of a side door. "Oh, thanks the gods, a customer!" he smiles at Kudera, and is wearing the usual smock of innkeeper, although finer then most. "My name is Anmaran of the White Rose. Can I get you something? What might your name be? Please, sit anywhere you like." he eyes the lion but adds, gamely trying to keep his face still, "And for your pet? "
Kudera assesses the inn as she enters, pleased to see that she appears to have come to the right place. She scans those present, but doesn't see anything particularly noteworthy for the moment.
The inquisitor takes a seat at the bar and says to the thin man, "Whatever you have on tap will be fine, and perhaps some wheat bread, if you have it."
"We have some wonderful beer, we brew it ourselves." he says nodding happily at the prospect of business. The bartender glides around the bar with practiced ease, and quickly begins pouring a tankard. "Bread I have, I do have some fresh cheese to go with it if you like?"
Whatever he answer he nods, leaving a foaming tankard of beer on the bar and vanishing out of a side door. From her angle, Kudera can see both the merchants and sullen mercenaries. Just as she is about to sip the drink one of the merchants stands up, gesticulating wildly, "It is highway robbery! The rates have been rising for weeks now. If we don't stand together..."
One of the others looks around wildly, spots Kudera and his eyes narrow. He is a fat man, with a lined and fleshy face finished with a short blonde beard. Keeping his gaze locked on the newcomer he says, "Easy now, Kandeer. Let us not say anything we will regret after this meeting. Also, keep it down. We aren't alone."
The merchant sits, looking a little abashed but still angry. Slowly the other merchant stops looking at Kudera and turns back to his table.
A chuckle of dry laughter floats from the sailors table, who have now broken out a pack of cards. The dealer, a tall strong looking man with weathered, leather like features, mutters something inaudible to the others who nod knowingly. With a start Kudera notes, among the drab and gray clothing, small silver bird broaches pinning the cloaks.
Kudera has seen such signs before, on the chest of proud soldiers marching in Alamas. Eagle Knights! But here and dressed in such subdued clothing?
When the thin man asks about her 'pet,' Kudera says, "Any relatively fresh, raw meat will do for him. He's not particularly picky."
Observing the scene unfold, Kudera does her best to keep a neutral face. She's not interested in getting involved in whatever conflict is brewing. It'll be more detrimental than useful to her cause.
When she notices the telltale signs of Eagle Knights, Kudera grows more curious. That they're apparently trying to be inconspicuous is all the more intriguing.
Still, with the merchants nearby, Kudera decides it's best to keep her thoughts and questions to herself for now. Perhaps if the merchants leave, she'll speak with the Eagle Knights.
Soon the bartender returns, also pointedly ignoring the merchants. He places a wooden plate covered with fresh sliced bread, butter and a few chunks of hacked cheese. He also slaps a large trout on a platter and says, looking toward the door, "I, ah, assume you will feed him?"
"If there isn't anything else you need, I'll be in the back cleaning up. Shout if you need something." As he moves back to the kitchen, Kudera notes he gives the merchant group a single worried glance before moving out of sight.
As Kudera eats and drinks her beer, the merchant group grows more unruly. Shouts and angry words are shared, although Kudera can't make out many individual words. A drink is spilled and soon everyone is on their feet shouting about betrayal and traitors. In an instant the mercenaries are there as well, swords drawn, breaking off into groups behind each merchant. Seemingly they are varied bodyguards each working for one of the merchants. Finally, there is a moment of silence as the merchants stare at each other, a ring of nervous, anxious merchants backed by hard, dangerous looking men. Time slows and Kudera is sure violence is going to break out and blood split. Almost without realizing it her hand goes to her own weapons...
Then the lead sailor stands up, the lean faced dealer. Taller then any of the merchants, he takes one step toward them and says, in a calm low voice, "Put it away. It will do no good and won't solve your problems."
Despite his group being outnumbered three to one, the mercenaries look nervously at the imposing sailor and mutter amongst themselves. But the deadly mood is broken and the merchants slowly filter out, each followed by his own knot of mercenaries. The sailor watches them all go, grim face unreadable. Only as the last man leaves does he say, to one of his colleagues, "It isn't going to hold together and we aren't enough." The others nod over their cards, obviously more concerned with events then their game.
Kudera makes sure to feed the trout to Tathir before eating her own meal. It’s fairly plain, but filling. More than sufficient for her needs.
When the scuffle breaks out between the merchants and their mercenaries, Kudera indeed finds her hand hovering near the scimitar at her side. She has half a mind to intervene herself before the lead sailor breaks up the scene.
The inquisitor is curious as to what exactly the sailor means by ‘it’ and why that ‘it’ won’t hold together. Is he referring to peace near the border with Taldor? Triela seems peaceful enough, at the moment, at least.
With a final bite of bread and sip from her mug, Kudera stands and walks over to the table with the lead sailor. If there’s an open chair, she’ll simply sit, otherwise she’ll bring a chair over from a nearby table.
Then she says, “It seems there is some unrest in the town. Care to elaborate?”
Tathir seems to enjoy trout, which is welcome break from the deer and rabbits they have been hunting so far on this trip. Feeding a lion is not the easiest task in a world but Androan is rich and fertile, so far at least.
When Kudera walks over the sailors all look at her. They are a hard bitten group, men and women both, everyone having the look of experienced soldiers, used to sudden action. They have a unison that makes Kudera think of armies or commando raids.
The head sailor, the one who spoke looks up, dark brown eyes narrowed on his long face. He looks tired, with a growth of black stubble on his face, but his actions are smooth and fluid.
"You are a long way from home, Qadrian." he says cooly. "I don't see many of your folk willing to walk on our soil. Must be brave, or foolish."
The other nod in agreement, looking at Kudera's response. They do however, push an empty chair toward her to sit in.
Kudera takes the offered chair. To the head sailor’s remarks, she says, “Neither option is necessary for my presence here to be warranted. I believe that is what scholars refer to as a false dichotomy. As I have need of being in this area, any information you can give me on the current state of affairs near Triela as well as in nearby Taldor would be appreciated.”
The man raises his eyebrow at Kudera's formal, almost academic lanagauge. "True enough, but a man must rely on his experiences and the only Qadira I tend to see are slavers, at least in these waters."
He sighs and shuffles the cards idly, fingers working automatically, folding card over card.. "The current state of affairs? I guess that depends on what your 'needs' are. Are you heading toward Taldor or away from it?"
"Towards I would guess, although gods only know why. You did not come by ship or I would know of you, and no Qadrian is coming out of Taldor alive these days. So from Androan it is, although your task is a mystery to me. The only Qadiran I know headed toward Taldor are raiding parties on the southern border or so the news goes...But one woman, even a formidable looking one as yourself, does not a war party make."
“I assure you, I am no slaver,” Kudera makes sure to immediately clarify. “I am headed to Taldor, as you suspected. My reason for doing so is my own, but I am aware of the danger in doing so. I accept the risk. However, I would like to reduce that risk as much as possible. That’s why any information you can provide would be appreciated.”
The cards continue their endless ripple but are ignored but all. "You have a name, no slaver?" he asks mildly, eyeing her.
"Information is hard to come by these days. Taldor is a total disaster from where I here, but you didn't need to talk to me to find that out. The crowds of hungry and desperate refugees you pushed past would have told you that."
"But I can tell you two things that might relate to your journey. First the Grand Prince Stavian III is dead leaving no, male heir. Secondly the road north is blocked, and Cassomir has shut the gates to any and all. Bandits swarm over the roads and the border." One of the other sailors grunts disapprovingly but the speaker replies, "That isn't our area Baskir, you know that. We have enough on our plates as it is."
He turns back to Kudera, "I'd advise you to go someplace else other then Taldor. Whatever business you have there is either moot or can wait although I have a feeling this war isn't ending anytime soon. Some of the things the refugees are saying....don't bear thinking about."
When asked her name, Kudera simply replies, “Kudera Rivani.”
She tries to process the information the sailor gives her. The Grand Prince.. dead? Could it really be? And the information about bandits and the road being closed… She had expected bandits, but that the road was entirely closed? That was troubling. It certainly made getting to Oppara much more difficult.
Kudera says, “I have important business in Oppara. Before you protest, I realize that is likely the heart of whatever conflict is occurring in Taldor, but it is still an unfortunate necessity that I go there. Is there no way to bypass the main road to Taldor? I can deal with a few bandits, but if the border is closed entirely, that does present an issue.”
The need to charter a ship crosses Kudera’s mind, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She can’t think about such things. Not at the moment. She knows sea travel can be deadly. She saw first hand evidence of that. At least by land there’s a chance of her avoiding conflict, with a bit of luck.
"Of course you can avoid the roads." The sailor says, nodding. "A border is a big place, plenty of places to slip across, if you want. But you'll be traveling overland with no supply and no way of knowing where you are going. Worse, with the way things are, the woods will be filled with everything from vengeful peasants to actual rebel armies. Unless you know Taldor very well I wouldn't recommend it."
The cards stop their dance as he waves a strong, work-scarred hand toward Kudera, "And of course being Qadiran is a death sentence in most of Taldor considering what is going on. Even at the best of times relations are frosty. Now?" he shakes his head and re-starts the shuffle.
"As for here, times are hard. Hundreds of refugees pouring in, no place to house them, no way to feed them and Almas doesn't seem to care much. The merchants have vastly expanded the usual mercenary brute squads but things are getting out of control, as you perhaps noted." he nods towards the now empty chairs.
Kudera considers her options. A few bandits are one thing, but an entire rebel army? The inquisitor can’t quite bring herself to believe that. Things in Taldor are bad, obviously, but all-out civil war seems like a stretch.
With the man’s interest appears to wane, Kudera says, “If you - theoretically - absolutely had to get to Oppara as quickly and safely as possible, what route or method would you recommend?”
A hearty chuckle sweeps the table at Kudera's words. The lead sailor doesn't join in however, giving the inquisitor a long look. "Quick and safe rarely go together, Kudera Rivani. The fastest way is by ship, I know that well. I have sailed these waters for many years and done my part to make them a bit safer. I've even docked in Oppara a time or three, in quieter years past. But now? Impossible. The Imperial Navy is a shadow of what it was and pirates heave on every coast. The Inner Sea is a big place and maybe you'd get lucky, but maybe you wouldn't. Odds are you'd find the docks closed anyone and yourself arrested if you arrived there."
"There are no safe routes through war, Qadiran. I suppose, if forced, I'd go overland, going wide around Cassomir. Have to find a guide who knew the lay of the land...but that is not a trip I'd take lightly." He shuffles the card once more and starts to deal them out.
"I am not in charge of this town, mind you." he says, obviously as a parting word, "But I take the peace and safety here seriously. I don't want to see you, or anyone else, starting trouble. Times are bad enough. Do I make myself plain?"
The main sailor is starting to annoy Kudera a bit. She suspects it’s not just Taldans that have a disdain for Qadirans. Some of it is justified, some not so much.
“I have no intention of causing trouble. In fact, I hope my mission will prevent some trouble. You mentioned that I would need a guide to make it to Oppara by land. Do you know of anyone in the town that’s from Taldor?”
The man actually grins this time, showing a mouthful of white teeth. "Yes, there are several hundred of them at the gates." But he sobers then and says, "How long will you be in town? I don't know any guides but I'll ask around for you. Maybe they can talk some sense into you since you apparently don't trust me."
The men turn back to their cards, although a few give Kudera rather cold stares.
Kudera ignores the men who ignore her. No point in dwelling on the matter.
To the main sailor, she says, "Thank you. I'll check as well. I will be headed to Taldor, one way or another. I doubt I will linger here more than a day or two, but I'll see about getting a room in this inn if you find someone who could be of assistance."