Kudera leaves the rather cold inn and heads back out into the city, Tathir at her heels. The day is bright and warm, spring in the air. The inquisitor passes back out the open gate into the refugee quarter. She attempts to engage some in conversation but is met rather coldly. It doesn't take her long to gather it is because of her ancestry. At first Kudera is a bit confused, she had had little trouble with discrimination and prejudice during her time in Oppara before, why was it such a problem now?
As she tries to strike up conversations it dawns on her. As opposed to the cosmopolitan city dwellers she interacted with before, most of these refugees are poor farmers and artisans from the northern districts of Taldor. Few of them know Qadira as anything but an exotic foe, far to the south, full of raiders and slaving parties. Still, Kudera is clearly not either of them and she at least learns that the richer and better connected refugees have gathered in the lower areas of the city, known as the Skids. She feels she will be better received there.
Just as she is about to make her way there, she hears a rough voice shout at her, "Hey! You! Why are you here?"
Kudera turns and finds an older man hobbled out onto the muddy 'street' between two rows of hovels. He is missing a leg and is using a crude crutch, struggling with the mucky ground. He looks worn, thin, rather ragged but his face is alight with hate.
"This is all your fault!" he bellows, pointing an accusatory finger toward Kudera. "You and your people! Do you know what they do?"
The question is aimed at the crowds of refugees who perk up, many coming over to see what the problem is.
"They kill any captives they take, burning them alive." The old man says, then spits onto the ground, face twisted. "I've seen them at it. That is where I lost my leg, in the south, on the border." More refugees come over, and, to her concern, Kudera sees many nodding in agreement.
"This whole war is there fault. Who else could have killed the Grand Prince? Who else would have wanted to?" A murmer of agreement, "And then they storm across the border, burning crops and killing everyone they find. We have all heard the stories!"
Some people agree out loud and things are edging toward getting out of hand.
Kudera turns to the man who spoke. She considers the crowd. Avoiding coming to blows is ideal, particularly in the midst of so many.
Addressing the gathering, Kudera says, “You cannot assign to an entire people the transgressions of a few. Even if some Qadirans were responsible for your Grand Prince’s death, I assure you I was not among them. And stories are often just that: stories, fanciful tales to make it easier for your rulers to manipulate you into opposing other nations. We’re all humans, even if the shade of our skin is a bit different. We are not enemies.”
Kudera's words are clear and ringing, filling the squalid air of the refugee camps. All of the assembled people suddenly look quite abashed and look away, faces reddening. Clearly they were expecting rage or hostility from Kudera, not clear words of rationality. However, her interlocutor's, the crippled man, face doesn't change. If anything it becomes harsher but he stays silent. two young men, probably his sons hurry out of a shanties and take him by the arms. After shooting Kudera poisonous looks they lead the old man away. The crowd slowly dissapates.
Kudera relaxes a bit as the crowd disperses. A few hard stares from the crippled man's sons is something the inquisitor can easily deal with. They would be foolish to challenge her by themselves.
With the immediate danger's passing, Kudera turns back to her efforts at finding a guide for her journey into Taldor.
Leaving behind a sullen but hopefully chastised crowd Kudera finds a path leading down to the Skids, the well worn way cutting deep into the bluff that divides the two sections. It doesn't take long for Kudera to feel like she has entered a different world Gone are the wide, paced streets of the upper districts, with it's shade trees and tidy yards. It their place are dirt ruts, winding between rickety wooden shacks, laid out with no rhyme of reason. Puddles of ooze and slime dot the paths, many smelling foul. Garbage and refuse are piled here and there, and to Kudera dismay, dirty faced children comb through the waste.
The houses are mere shacks, some larger then others, most with simple thatch roofs or tightly packed boughs. But what hits the inquisitor the most is the sheer crowd of people. Everyone she turns there are more and more people, moving in and out of sight. Many are pushing through the streets, further churning the disgusting muck. Others are sitting on porches, gambling or drinking far too much. Here and there a person stands on a street corner, either asking for alms or raving about the civil war. The air is heavy with smoke, fear and anxiety.
She passes what seems to be a long line of people waiting for something. Glancing ahead Kudera sees a heavily guarded stall, with a simple picture of a loaf of bread over the counter. A tough looking woman is standing there, handing out loaves of bread to angry looking crowds. Even as Kudera watches the guards (about a dozen heavily armed mercenary types) shove a thin man out of the way, to move the line along.
Next up is a rail thin woman, a baby in her arms. She is handed a pitiful loaf of gray bread that, even at a distance, Kudera can see is dry and crumbling. "But, I have three kids..."
"Ration's been cut." The tough woman inside the stall says, voice hard. "Nothing for it, move along."
"But that isn't enough..." The hungry mother says, unmoving. Her voice isn't loud, she isn't resisting but she doesn't move. Behind her people began to mutter angrily some in agreement with her plights, others simply angry the line is still. The guards move forward, heavy clubs in hand.
Kudera finds herself frustrated as she looks on at the scene unfolding before her. She has her duty to attend to, but as a Sarenite she can't help but feel for the plight of these people. Just because she was born wealthy doesn't mean she can't sympathize.
Though her help is unlikely to be long lasting, Kudera feels compelled to do something, however small it may be.
She steps between the mother and the guards and says, "I realize you may need to ration more than you have in the past, but perhaps families should receive some additional consideration, yes? Now isn't the time to be coming apart at the seams. Now is the time for compassion. These children should not be allowed to starve. So... give her some more."
Kudera's words are well spoken and reasonable but seem lost on the hard looking woman who looks at the suli with obvious shock which rapidly turns to annoyance.
"Who in the Hells are you?"{/b] Three of the burly mercenaries break ranks and start making their way to Kudera, pushing people out of the way. This engenders grumbling while others meekly move aside. A few even glare at Kudera, upset she is holding up the line. The hungry mother doesn't even glance back, focused on the dry loaf in front of her.
[b]"Well, whoever you are, get lost or I'll make sure you regret it." The bread doler says, giving Kudera a hard stare, obviously not liking to be challenged and enjoying her role as master of the dole.
One of the mercenaries, a heavy set and strong looking man with a ragged brown beard says, "Clear off." While Kudera was impressive looking, clearly food was something the mercenaries were not willing to give an inch on.
Kudera realizes she’s not going to be able to sway the mercenaries and that the person giving out bread isn’t going to be helpful either. So, to avoid conflict, she says to the mother, “Please, come with me and I’ll get some more food for your children. No need to linger further.”
Kudera notes, lounging against some nearby shacks, another bunch of mercenaries, dressed slightly differently, eyeing things with interest.
Kudera, in speaking with the shell-shocked mother, is forced to speak loud enough for others to hear. Instantly there is one word one everyone's lips. Food
"You have food?" One refugee asks while another comes up, breaking the strict line. "Do you have enough to share? I have a wife at home and she is very sick.." In an instant there is a small crowd around her.
The woman at the stall looks at Kudera with renewed suspicion and says, "Food hoarding is illegal! Boys, get her away from here, she is causing trouble."
The mercenaries try to get toward Kudera but the crowd is now surrounding the inquisitor, asking about food and pleading their cases. It isn't quite a starving crowd but merely desperate and hoping for an escape from the seemingly petty tyranny of the stall. Then, one of the mercenaries, trying to forge a path, hits a man hard on the head with his club. Clearly overdoing the blow, the stricken man crumples into the mud. Another man nearby shouts and grabs the mercenary. In a few moments a full out brawl is forming, with Kudera in the center, yet untouched but not for long.
As the situation quickly spirals out of control, Kudera considers her options .
She could try being diplomatic again, but that didn't seem to work too well last time. Maybe that's not the best plan now.
Alternatively, she could try to leave the area with the mother, but she's still not entirely sure the woman will actually come with her. There's also the issue of the rest of these people that want food...
The truth of the matter is that there's no perfect solution to this situation. Kudera knows this, even if she hates that fact. Her mission has to come first. She wanted to do some good in the situation, but that's no longer a viable option.
With a heavy sigh, Kudera draws her the adamantine scimitar at her side and her shield from her back. Then she calls Tathir to her side.
As loud and as clearly as she can, Kudera says, "I don't want to cause trouble, so I'm leaving now. Don't try to stop me or you'll get even more trouble. There's no need for violence. I'll move along."
Tathir growls menacingly at her side as Kudera pushes her way through the crowd while keeping a careful eye on the armed mercenaries she spies. Her goal is to get out of the area as quickly as she can. She can do no good here.
Kudera's voice is full of heavy menace and experience, not to mention the lion at her side. Few interfere with her as the fracas grows more intense, fists, rocks and knives all being used to great effect. It saddens the Inquisitor that blood is being split here. She had marched through the richest fields Andoran had to offer, was there really such a shortage of food? Or was the cruelty the by product of something else then mere scarcity?
As Kudera just begins to exit the melee however, she sees the second band of mercenaries start to move. Quickly they dart between shacks and, weapons drawn, attack the food stall. In a moment they push the woman out of the way, smash open a small door and begin heaving bags out of it. A raid for food. It is done so smoothly that Kudera is sure this isn't the first time such a heist has been pulled off.
"It's a raid!" One of the mercenaries caught in the rabble shouts. Instantly the mood changes from vague and annoyed violence towards unarmed citizens towards a stark threat from a near peer.
They start to disengage, pulling back to the shack. One, a taller man with arms like tree trunks, apparently in charge, bellows, 'The woman. She is with them!"
He reaches into a pouch and drinks a potion of some type, then he and another man run toward Kudera heavy clubs in hand. The smaller man is a bit faster and reaches Kudera with time to attack. He tries to edge away, avoiding Tathir.
The blow just misses and the Suli can feel the wind of the club ruffle her hair. At her side Tathir growls, deep and low in his throat, always his last sound before he attacks.
Kudera grows serious as the man clubs her. She needs to deal with the mercenaries raiding the food, but she’ll have to deal with the men before her first.
”I gave you a chance to let me pass without violence, but you still chose violence. Now the fury of the Dawnflower will be visited upon you.
Kudera commands Tathir to attack first. The lion takes a step forward to be next to the man who attacked already. Then he mauls the man.
Then Kudera activates her bull animal focus, causing her muscles to enlarge. She attacks as well.
Tathir, unleashed, is a terrifying thing. The huge cat is a blur of teeth and claws, bounding for the man's throat. In a moment the man is down, without Kudera even needing to strike herself. His lifeblood spills into the rutted mud, and while Kudera takes no joy in it, neither does she regret it. Self defense, if there ever was a case.
The other mercenary, takes one look and then bolts, heading away. Dealing with hungry refugees was one thing, but fighting this woman, and her cat, alone?
The thieving mercenaries pause for a moment at Kudera's display, eyeing her. Then one shrugs, mutters something to the others,a nd they turn back to work, a few even giving Kudera a smile, as if she is one of them.
The crowd pushes toward them and the stolen food, perhaps thinking of taking some of it for themselves. The remaining 'guards' pull back, eyeing Kudera warily, deciding if they want to try her as a group or not. One pulls out a whistle and starts to shrilly blow on it, the sound high and piercing in the warm air.
With the immediate threat over, Kudera turns to the mercenaries raiding the food. From a distance, she shouts, “You have one chance. Put all the food back and leave or you will face my blade. There won’t be a second chance.”
She prefers for the situation to be resolved without further violence, but she’s fairly certain that’s not possible at this point. Still, she has to at least try. The men won’t be able to say she didn’t give them a chance.
The mercenaries look up, over the heads of the small but roiling crowd. They seem to take Kudera's threat seriously then turn back to their quick work. There are eight of them after all, including one woman who looks like a caster of some sort.
She shouts over the rising din, "We'll be gone in a minute, don't mind us. Tell whoever sent you, thanks!" But despite her friendly words, she doesn't break eye contact with Kudera, keeping the inquisitor firmly in view.
Kudera considers her options. Eight versus two isn’t exactly the best of odds. Maybe there’s a way to better even up the numbers.
“You!” she shouts at the remaining normal guards for the food stand. “It’s time to do your job. Let’s work together to repel these thieves. If you’re worth anything, you’ll help now.”
Kudera’s not sure her attempt will work, but she’s also not sure she has much choice. If the thieving mercenaries are to be stopped, she’ll probably need help. She waits to see how the guards respond.
When Kudera shouts at the remaining guards, they look utterly bewildered. Finally one, who looks a tad sharper then the rest shouts back, "You killed Darvos! You are in it with them, this is a trick." With that they start to retreat, unwilling to turn their backs on Kudera up a side street, with one last parting shot, "You'll be hearing from Anaxos!"
Meanwhile the thieves have packed the bags into a small handcart and are starting to make their get away, leaving two or three bags of grain for the refugees to fight over/distribute.
The man's words weren't exactly accurate, but they were understandable. Tathir had killed Darvos, not Kudera, though it had been at her command, so it's basically the same thing. She also can't say she blames them for backing away. They're down a man and they just met her.
The situation is exceedingly frustrating for Kudera. It began with her trying to do some good, and, as things currently stand, it looks like it might end with a dead body and a lot of stolen food.
Kudera looks down at her blade, then at Tathir and his bloody claws and teeth. Then she looks at the escaping thieves. She's a Dawnseeker. This injustice can't be allowed to stand.
What's more, she had given the thieves a chance. They ignored her. They won't be able to do the same to her blade.
Kudera feels the slight tingle of divine energy as she runs, the thrill of Sarenrae in her veins. Justice would be served and clearly her goddess approves. At her side Tathir keeps pace, muscles bunching with strength. As they surge through the parting crowd (no refugee wants to tangle with Kudrea or the lion) the thieving mercenaries try to manage a getaway. However, the cart is too unwieldy and at the last moment they, clearly reluctantly, make a stand in front of the food. The woman who looks like the leader (and magical) jumps up on the cart, standing over the others. She shimmers with an arcane force field.
As Kudera approaches the fleeing thieves, she sees that they’ve decided to stop and face her. Preparing herself, she engulfs her arms in crackling lightning, which extends to her scimitar. She has to hit hard and fast if she wants a chance at winning. The numbers aren’t on her side.
Channeling the Dawnflower herself, Kudera crashes into the first thief, slashing at him with divine fury... or not so much.
Then she commands Tathir to attack as well.
Kudera's first blow goes wild and instead of slicing into the first mercenary, hacks a chunk out of the handcart. The mercenaries don't laugh however, and most eye the damaged wood with respect. Kudera has the sense they don't want to die over a few bags of grain and dry bread.
Tathir however doesn't miss, his teeth ripping open a man's leg. Blood spatters onto the ground as the mercenary totters but doesn't fall over.
With an air of self defense, the two closest to her attack Kudera, perhaps unwilling to directly assault the big cat.
However Tathir roars loudly just as they swing, and both men miss.
"Why do you care so much, woman?" The woman on top of the food bags says, voice concerned and confused. "Who are you with? Just let us go! No one else has to die."
She waves her hands and sends three jets of streaking light that hit Kudera directly in the chest with pounding force.
Kudera grits her teeth as the magic missiles hit her. Answering the woman’s question, she says, “Because what you’re doing is unjust. These people already don’t have enough. You’re stealing what little they have.”
She focuses on her blade, imbuing it with divine energy, focusing her desire to see justice done in the Dawnflower’s name.
Then she attacks again.
She has Tathir strike again as well.
"This food was stolen in the first place. We are just getting it back!"
The woman's words fade as Kudera cuts down one of the mercenaries in a gout of blood. His screams cut off sharply as Kudera's blade sinks deep into his chest, then whirling to slash another man. At her side Tathir pulls another mercenary (a woman) to the ground and tears them to bloody ribbons. In mere moments Kudera (and Tathir) have killed three men.
The woman curses and shouts, "Leave it. Run!" The entire company breaks ranks, and in total disarray bolt down the street. They leave the handcart stacked with food in the street, as well as the dead bodies. Around her the crowd pulls back at the pool of blood around the inquisitor, the aura of violence. Most look longingly towards the food however, clearly ready to dash for it once Kudera leaves.
As the thieves leave, Kudera lets the divine energy fade from her blade and the crackling lightning subside from her arms. She's not happy that a few of them had to die, but they refused to heel, so she had no choice.
Kudera's not sure what to think of the woman's words about the food having already been stolen. Even if that's true, it'll go to better use with the townspeople than with selfish thieves.
Kudera steps to one side of the cart and has Tathir stand on the opposite side. Then she shouts at the crowd, "Form an orderly line to get the food. I will be watching. Only take what you need, not what you want."
She keeps her scimitar out, but places her shield on her back before retrieving a wand from her pack. She can't be certain that will be her last fight for the day.
Under Kudera's watchful eyes the refugees form a fairly orderly line and start taking food. A few try to grab more then they can carry but a warning look from the inquisitor (and a snort from Tathir) is all it takes to keep order, for the moment. As the suli heals herslef she hears a strange voice behind her.
Laughter.
Turning she sees a refugee, with tanned skin and ragged clothes. A tangled brown beard hides much of his lined face, but his eyes are a sharp green. Despite his somewhat disheveled appearance, Kudera has a feeling this one is tough, used to a life outdoors. He holds a knobbly walking stick in his hand.
"You did it now, whoever you are. You'll have every gang in the city after you after that stunt!" he laughs and adds, "But gods, it was good to see them run like rabbits with their tails up!"
Kudera turns to examine the laughing man. She waits till she's certain the people taking food will stay orderly - and leaves Tathir near the cart as insurance - before addressing the man.
"Then it's good that I don't intend to linger here for long. I'm in search of a guide to Taldor. You wouldn't happen to know of anyone in the city that would fit that description, would you?"
Kudera's words, more then her her bloody actions drain the laughter from the man's face. "You want to go [/i]into[/i] Taldor?" the man shakes his head, "You really are crazy then. They are killing each other there, miles of roads strung with bodies. Armies marching around, taking all the food, burning towns down. Bandits everywhere and monsters coming out to feed....I won't step foot in back in Taldor till the fighting is done, and I think that might be a long while."
Kudera is ready to turn away in disappointment, when the man speaks again "However, I think I know someone who might be stupid enough to go with you. One of the better off folks down in the Skids, seemed to have some money when he fled. He seems intent on going back but no one is fool enough to help him. Maybe you can get killed together? I'd lead you myself but I don't want to be standing next to you when those gangs catch back up to you."
He points up a wide, muddy street crudely paved with logs. "Take two rights and then up a few blocks. Near the beach, a big wooden building. Used to be a logging mill but the richer refugees bought it and are using it for housing."
"Good luck, lady." he says as farewell before getting in line for the last of the beard being doled out.
"Thank you," Kudera replies.
Once all the remaining food has been distributed, Kudera makes her way to the building near the beach using the man's instructions. She's not sure what to expect given how half-crazed the man seemed to be, but anyone is better than no one at this point.
Kudera has Tathir wait to one side of the door. Having a bloody lion at her side probably won't leave the best first impression. Once Tathir's settled, Kudera knocks on the door twice.
Although it is only a short walk away from the White Rose this place is a world away from the empty, sterile upper-class tavern. The old sawmill is a rambling building, reaching out over the still water, with high roof and many side doors. Once a bustling mill there are no sounds of saw or falling timbers now, although there is still a strong smell of sawdust and pine resin.
Stepping inside Kudera finds a wide smoky room, made of dark crudely cut timbers, and a rough wooden floor. Saw, axes, planes and other tools are hastily heaped in corners, gathering dust. In the center a long line of tables and chairs are pulled together creating a barrier. All the chairs are facing toward the door, an intimidating almost judicial like arrangement.
Behind this impromptu 'bench' are a dozen stolid men and women, generally gray-haired, with serious faces and well-trimmed clothes. While clearly Taldane they are far more imposing then the mere beggars Kudera had so far encountered. Clearly this group is what passed for a government among the refugee influx and perhaps the Skids in general? To her relief, Kudera spots no mercenaries among the small crowd of people thronging around the seated figures.
Directly in front of the panel, a ragged man whom Kudera vaguely recognizes from the street is saying, 'And then she killed ten of them! Honest, I swear it, she shoved her sword right into them! And she had a big cat too, like a lion. It ripped the throat out of two mercenaries, like that!" he snaps his dirty fingers.
One of the seated figures, a thin man looking more bored then the rest, looks past the wildly gesticulating story teller and spots Kudera. With a sudden wry smile he raises a hand, interrupting the ragged man.
"Tell me, Cassis, was she tall, tanned with a tattoo on her face? A pair of scimitars on her back?" His voice is lazy, laconic.
The man looks stunned at this description, obviously not part of his tale so far, "Master Vatius,how...how did you know?"
"She is standing behind you."
With an audible squeal the man jumps and spins, spotting Kudera. With a shout he cries, "She's come to kill me for telling the tale. Oh gods!"
No one else reacts to this melodramatic display except Vatius who merely says, "Cassis, get up off the floor and out of the way."
As the dirty man shuffles off, the seated man behind the row of desks eyes Kudera. His face is lined with late middle aged, hair fading to iron gray. He has thin shoulders that speak of a life indoors, but his fingers are quick and nimble.
"Have you come to speak to your side of the story?" he says directly to Kudera, all eyes now on the inquisitor. "Cassis here suggests you started a fight at one of the food depots?"
Kudera listens quietly till Cassis stops speaking and Master Vatius asks his questions. In light of what's she heard, Kudera's glad she left Tathir outside. It'll be a while before the blood washes out of his paws.
Stepping forward, Kudera says, "I have come to ask for aid, specifically to ask for a guide to Taldor. As for your second question, I did not start a fight, but I did end one, two technically. I did not kill ten, but I was forced to slay a few people who did not exhibit common sense. They were given a chance to stand down and chose not to do so.
"What say you to my request? Is there anyone among you willing to venture back into Taldor for a worthy cause? While I cannot disclose its specific nature, I will tell you that I am a member of the Sarenite church and have been appointed a Dawnseeker by my home congregation. You can trust that what I do is for Golarion's good."
The reaction to Kudera's word are nearly universal. Almost everyone looks at her in a combination of shock, confusion and more then a little fear, as if she suggested they take a jaunt to the nicer planes of Hell. Only Master Vatius looks speculatively eyeing Kudera as if sizing her up. His fingers drum on the table but someone else speaks first.
"You announce you killed several people and then ask for guides to Taldor? What, are you crazy?" A heavy set middle aged woman blurts out. "You'll be lucky if they let you leave town alive, let alone with a gang of refugees at your back."
Recovering a bit the woman says, "You should be asking for our help but I don't think we should expect that type of humbleness from a Qadrian Sarenite."
Vatius stays silent, still eyeing Kudera as if curious to what the Suli will say or do.
Kudera stares at the heavy set woman with a blank expression. After letting the moment drag on for a bit, she says, “I would think my ability to handle myself in a fight would be reason to trust I can handle myself in Taldor, however unstable it may be right now.
“If I wasn’t clear, I am asking for your help. Or at least the help of one of you. While I will venture into Taldor alone if I must, I would prefer to be accompanied by someone who knows the land, someone who wants to do some good. I don’t attest to be a humble person. It is not a central tenet of the Sarenite faith. I do claim to be motivated. I’m looking for someone who is also motivated.”
Kudera's rather bold statement silences everyone. It is probably rare that accused murderers lean into the accusations. Vatius, quick eyes gleaming opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a loud, rough voice from outside.
"Send her out! We know she is in there. You folks should know better then to be involved!" The voice is hoarse, obviously used to yelling a great deal.
Everyone inside the room shudders and looks nervously at each other. Then, as one, all eyes turn on Kudera, clearly willing here to go back out the door she just walked into. All except Vatius who looks like he making a quick calculation. Then, slowly, he gives Kudera a sly wink before standing up and vanishing out of a side door.
Kudera eyes Vatius. If any of these people are going to be her guide in Taldor, he seems to be far and away the most likely candidate. Regardless, she can't let these people suffer for what she's done. This gang has been around too long as it is. Noting the path Vatius took, Kudera resolves to track down the man once she's finished here. Besides, she can't very well leave Tathir outside by himself.
"Thank you for your time," Kudera says to those still in the room. She then turns around and walks toward the door she entered through. They don't need to send her out. She'll walk out on her own.
Kudera pulls her shield off her back and adjusts her grip on her scimitar. Then she opens the door.
Addressing whoever lies on the other side, the Sarenite says, "I dealt with your kind earlier and I can deal with you now, if you force me to. However, I will offer you the same chance I offered those before. Leave now - I advise fleeing the city entirely - and I will not be forced to bring you harm. Should you choose otherwise, I will do what I must. This is your only warning."
Kudera stepped out of the building, back into the afternoon warmth. The sun felt good on her skin, like it always did. It was a reminder her of the divine power watching over her, of the great goddess she served. She might have to walk in shadows at times or even shun the Sun in order to hide from her foes, but in the end it was her totem. Tathir is outside, sitting regally, tail only twitching slightly.
Standing in front of her are a full two dozen mercenaries, all heavily armed. Indeed, two of them have loaded crossbows in hand. The rest wield a motley collection of axes, swords and heavy clubs. Kudera recognizes them as the first group she met above,t hose who had been guarding the bread stall. In the center, looking quite out of place, is the angry merchant she spotted in the White Rose. He eyes Kudera warily and mutters something to a rangy man at his side. The taller man nods in confirmation, looking confident.
After a moment the merchant says, voice loud "You want me to flee the city. Do you know who I am? Don't you know I run this city? You should be on your knees apologizing to me, Qadiran. How dare you speak to me this way, after killing one of my own men. Apparently you need someone to teach you some manners."
Suddenly a new voice sounds out, "I wouldn't say you run this city, Drewl."
Kudera glances and sees another troop of mercenaries, about the same number, tramping up a side alley. This is the other group, those who had tried to steal the food but had been foiled. At their head marches another well dressed merchant, taller, younger with a deep tan. "Maybe the less important parts, when I let you."
His troop form up parallel to the old sawmill, the female caster at the merchant's side. They too are armed much the same as the first group, giving both Kudera and the assembled mercenaries cold looks. The feeling of a stand-off grows.
"I have to say, your plan here was more intricate then usual, Drewl." the newest arrival says, eyes flitting from Kudera to the short angry merchant. "Arranging to have this woman looks like a rogue agent, in order to attack a food stall. A bit overly elaborate, no?"
Kudera eyes both groups. They're certainly quite a bit larger than she initially assumed they would be. The fact that there are two, however, should work in her favor.
Choosing her words carefully, Kudera says, "I am not a servant to either of you, and I am not being paid by either of you. I killed your man, Drewl, because he attacked me. I will not apologize for doing what was right.
"As for you others, I think it may be best you learn to exert authority in ways that don't involve stealing from the poor. With the situation in Taldor, none of you can afford that the city be weak or that you focus on internal conflicts rather than external ones.
"I recently passed by a village that had been completely destroyed by raiders from Taldor. That fate will be your own if you can't put a stop to your pride and selfishness. This city needs defenders. If you two could talk reasonably for one minute, you might just come up with a solution that doesn't involve violence. And maybe, just maybe, the people will give you food not out of fear, but out of thankfulness."
Just as Kudera finishes talking she spots Master Vatius moving around the end of the building. The older man moves with a spryness that belies his age, circling the crowd.
As he does so the newly arrived mercenary laughs, "She plays her part out well Drewl. Was she worth the price?"
The heavier, shorter merchant scowls at both the newcomer and Vatius, "What kind of idiot do you take me for? She clearly is working for you! I saw her at the White Rose, eyeing me. I'm not blind, Robard!"
The two fall into some shouting as Vatius comes to Kudera's side. As they do so she hears a voice in her ear. It is Vatius, somehow casting his voice over the distance, Get them to turn on each other. If you don't, they'll eventually figure it out. I can help, if you start
Kudera eyes Vatius. She's still not completely sure what to think of the man. If he gets the pair of them killed, that will sufficiently answer the question. On the other hand, if they survive, he might prove to be an able guide in Taldor.
With neither mercenary leader seeming to be reasonable, Kudera decides to take Vatius's advice.
"Perhaps I was wrong about you two," Kudera says to Drewl and Robard. "You clearly can't get along, so there's no point in trying. This is as good a place as any to have it out with each other. Why not settle matters now? Get it over with and you won't have to worry about each other later, for better or for worse."
Kudera nods at Drewl. She gives Robard a wink a few seconds later. Then she waits.
Robard looks totally thrown when Kudera winks at him, eyes widening. Drewel on the other hand looks vindicated, "Ah ha! I knew it! he is working for you. You almost had me convinced..."
The two mercenary companies start forming up, blades drawn, clubs raised. In a moment chaos is about to break out when Kudera sees Vatius face int he distance, fall. Out of the sawmill doors the heavy set gray-haired lady from the small tribunal steps out. Her step is firm and steady, a Taldane mantle on her shoulders. She gives Kudera a frosty glance then says, "gentlemen, gentlemen, please!"
In her hear she hears Vatius's words, tense, Shut her up! She will ruin everything!
Her words stop the impending chaos, although the looks both merchants thrown her is dirty. "Shut up, Helena," Drewel says, voice low and angry, "Or Ill start asking why you are mixed up in this."
The woman, Helena, smiles coldly, "Mixed up in what? Two blundering fools so angry at each other to leave behind reason?"
Kudera steps in front of Helena and says to her, “Please, you don’t need to get involved in this. Head back inside or I can’t ensure your safety.”
Then, continuing her antics, Kudera says to Drewel, “We talked about this. No one else needs to get involved but our group and Robard’s.”
Drewel looks totally thrown by this shift in Kudera' attitude. Robard laughs though and says, "I guess your deposit ran out.But I agree, let's not get them involved."
He jerks a chin toward the old mill before shouting to his men, "Let's get to it, boys!"
The mercenaries square off, facing up. Apparently there is bad blood here as insults are thrown between various fighters, weapons raised, curses hurled. Then, all at once, like a released spring, the two masses of fighters fly toward each other in a collision of violence.
At her side Helena mutters, "I don't know you are but I won't stand for this!"
In her ear she hears Vatius says, Offer her a few gold pieces. It'll shut the greedy old bag up The man seemed quite delighted at calling his colleague such names.
Kudera eyes Vatius. She’s not sure how he’s managing to communicate with her without speaking. Despite her mild annoyance at her lack of understanding on the matter, she finds herself agreeing with him. Not because she agrees with his reasoning, of course, but because she wants to keep the woman from getting hurt in the impending fight.
The inquisitor hands the woman five gold and says, “Please go inside. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Once that’s done, Kudera glances back over at Vatius and raises an eyebrow as if to say, What now?
Helena takes the gold in a tight fist, face sour. "Trouble will catch up with you, mark my words." Then she turns on her heel and vanishes back into the inn.
As Kudera turns back toward the melee, she sees the fight has got out of control. The two masses have totally intermixed, the fighting intensifying. There isn't much blood being split, but plenty of broken bones, cracked skulls and burned skin however. All are two busy to interfere with her, at least for the moment. Vatius waves at a small alleyway, then disappears into it.
Kudera fidgets with her scimitar and shield. It's not usually the case that she would allow a situation like this to continue spiraling out of control. However, she would also normally have other dervishes to back her up. With it just being Kudera and Tathir, she decides her mission must come first.
Signaling for Tathir to follow her, Kudera trails Vatius into the small alleyway. She won't be completely surprised if there's an ambush waiting for her. But with no other leads on a guide to Taldor, she has to take the chance.
Kudera edges the fight, Tathir at her side. She catches the eyes of a few combatants, notably the wizard woman who with the magic missiles. However, after her display in the street above, no one wishes to confront her.
Unmolested, she heads down the alley Vatius moved down. She finds the older man perched on a large, cracked barrel, legs hangs swinging free. He looks quite at ease, hand on his chin in a thoughtful pose.
Kudera is not shocked when five or six men fall in behind her. Armed, they are not mercenaries however, but more raggedly dressed, the only concession to a uniform is an armband with the gold of Taldor.
Vatius nods, "They are what passes for a police force in the Skids, run by the Refugee Council. Considering what you are capable of, you might understand why I want protection." then he smiles, 'Even setting aside the lion, for the moment." he inclines a nod toward Tathir.
"So, tell me, why do you want to go into the ravening malestorm that is Taldor?"
Kudera does her best to keep the other men in her peripheral vision while focusing on Vatius.
"I have an important mission, one that can't wait for the months or years it may take for Taldor to stabilize. I'm hoping to find a guide to make the journey safer. I don't expect it to be completely safe even with a guide, but one should at least make it possible. Did you have someone you'd recommend?"
The inquisitor is confident she knows exactly who Vatius has in mind, but she wants to hear him say it.
Vatius nods, "I might have someone in mind, but that is a big thing to ask without knowing who you are. Taldor is a mess of epic proportions right now and I don't just mean the civil war. there is something else....something, evil in the air."
He shakes his head, as if dismissing the thoughts, "I am a practical man, an engineer by trade. I have spent my life building and maintaining Taldane canals, hard headed work, but even I can tell something is off in my homeland. I have my reasons for going back, but what could drive an outsider?" he says it more musingly then as a direct question. Kudera is not the type of person to change her mind.
"What are your conditions for such an arrangement, assuming a guide could be found?"
Kudera considers the man. She has to choose her words carefully. There may not be another in Andoran willing to escort her into Taldor.
"As for who I am, my name is Kudera Rivani. I am a Dawnseeker of the church of Sarenrae in Qadira. I've journeyed to many places since leaving my homeland, Andoran most recently.
"As for conditions, it seems as though those are things you have more right to set than myself. I would only ask that you do your best to get me to Oppara as safely and quickly as possible."
The older man drums his fingers on the lid of the cracked barrel, making a hollow sound. Behind Kudera the armed men stand silently, while the sounds of fighting drift from the squares over the warm, spring air.
Finally Vatius says, "Who would be in charge? Me, as the guide, or you as the one 'hiring' me? Whose needs come first? Taldor is a big place, the places I might want to go might not be the same as yours. Who pays for expenses? Your arrangement leaves many loose ends." Kudera gets the sense this is the type of man who despises loose ends.