Ilistra doesn't say anything to the general except the usual honorifics, but she also seems less stressed at their second meeting in a day.
Once done, Ilistra decides to check with Alexandra to see if she could take them to the Pallid Bluffs. She goes back to the docks to look for the sailor.
Cica rubs her shoulder.
"Sounds like a good idea. We'll likely need her help to find this Nkechi.
"Maybe she can take us there tomorrow morning...and if we're lucky, maybe we'll be back in time for dinner at the Golden Eagle."
Alexandra is at her shack, which turns out to be quite near the warehouse district, just a few minutes' walk away.
"Oh, hey, Darius. You're back. What was the deal with the fire?" She waves to the other soldiers. She wobbles very slightly, and smells strongly of rum. "Hi, guys!"
"Hello Alexandra," Garland greeted politely. "The fires? Well, you see..."
The masked legionnaire promptly told the story of the 13th's recent heroism.
"We also bring news about the expedition. The General believes that we should hire a seasoned guide who can navigate the terrain and treat with the local tribes; his recommendation was a mystic priest named Nkechi, who supposedly lives in a cave atop the Pallid Bluffs. Would it be possible for you to take us there, say, tomorrow morning? We only have six days until we depart."
Alexandra listens to the story, swaying gently in a wind that doesn't exist. "Wow, you guys are crazy. Uhm, yeah, I guess so. Might need to be like tomorrow noon though. I'm gonna have a serpentspawn of a hangover in the morning."
Garland nodded in understanding.
"We can also discuss the terms of your employment tomorrow," said Garland. "I would like to hire you as my assistant."
Once their business with Alexandra was concluded, Garland began leading the way to the The Golden Eagle...
The Golden Eagle looks more like a classical temple than a normal taberna. Marble columns soar to support a facade rich with carvings of fantastic creatures and noble looking men and women. The sedate sounds of refined drumming and piping spill into the street along with the smell of delicious food, beckoning those with the wealth to participate inside.
A pair of youthful imperials clad only in togas of sheer silk act as doormen. Their shaved heads and bodies combine with their youth to make it difficult to determine their gender, but an examination of their lower halves reveal them to be a boy and a girl. Both are narinar.
Ilistra shows up in her native dress as usual, with the one addition of Her magical cloak. Her new cloak's magic has given her the ability to keep everything clean, so the tribal jewelry sparkles in the torchlight.
Darius shows up in fine attire, adorned in gold jewelry interspersed with colorful local gemstones. He is wearing a light green dhoti with a matching sash across his bare chest. Beside him is a Narinar woman in matching sari and equally flashy adornments. Based on her position and demeanor, she is clearly a hired attendant. As he approaches, he removes the sash and hands it to his companion, who dutifully folds it and stows it away.
Garland arrived wearing a dashing outfit. He wore a dhoti (though his was a soft whitish gold) with a complementing long-sleeved tunica that was secured at the waist. The hooded cloak and gloves he had picked out were a finer quality than the ones he wore on duty. Garland had also taken care to make sure that his bandages were clean and fresh. As usual, our hero wore his signature lion mask, but it was polished for this special occasion!
"We are the Thirteenth Contubernium of the Seventh Cohort Apollonian Guard. Dux Tiberius Faustus is expecting us."
Placidus comes dressed as his caste. Instead of his normal legion issue tunica, he wears an expensive looking purple linen one with red lace dagging to accent the sleeves and hem. His shield is nowhere to be seen, but his breastplate has been polished and freshly lacquered with a gay pattern of tropical blooms. His eyes appear to have been professionally made up with a sparkly purple eyeshadow. Over his accoutrements he wears a half cape of beads and feathers. A teardrop shaped cut and polished ametrine the size of a robin's egg is affixed to his brow like a third eye. He appears to be unarmed with the exception of a small dagger of the style commonly used by Warrior caste for eating. He smiles his little smile at his companions. "Looking good, friends. Ready to enjoy the fruits of our labor?"
Ilistra mutters under her breath. ""Ana m atụ anya na emehiela m maka ohu ma tinye m n'ọrụ ọzọ na kichin, mana echefula m. Eji m n'aka na ọ gaghị eme ihere ma ọlị."
"I'm looking forward to being mistaken for a servant and being put to work in the kitchens again, but don't mind me. I'm sure it won't be awkward at all."
Cica is happily practicing her kata while imagining the many dishes she may eat--and the fantastic baths she's heard about--when she sees her mates getting dressed up.
She glances at the stained tunica she's wearing, and her other dirty tunica (sticking, crumpled, out of her pack). "Oh! Um, I'll be back in a bit!" She darts out the door and returns just before it's time to leave for the Golden Eagle.
When she comes back, she's in a (crisp, clearly brand new) embroidered olive brown tunica, with a long orange silk braided rope tied under her bust and then again around her waist. She also has a gold-and-olive palla around her waist, and a matching gold-and-olive hairband.
It's likely the first time her companions have seen her without layers of stains on the sides of her tunica.
"I'm ready!"
"We are the Thirteenth Contubernium of the Seventh Cohort Apollonian Guard. Dux Tiberius Faustus is expecting us."
The young door servants nod. "If you would come us please, exalted Citizens, we will show you to the baths," they say in harmonic unison. Turning to lead the way inside, they begin to clap and sing a wordless tune of vocal percussion which gives rise in the soldiers to a certain exotic excitement. They lead the group into a changing room, where they are expected to disrobe. Other similarly beautiful and scantily clad young narinar come and collect their garments, assuring them they will be returned on the other side of the baths. Everything inside is marble, gilt, expertly painted frescos and mosaics of the finest tile. The laconica follows, a superheated room where the contubernium sits for a time, sweating off the dirt and grime that come with living in a tropical city with few means of sanitation. After they are sufficiently sweaty, the group continues into the three bathing chambers proper - the calidarium or hot room, heated and with a hot-water pool and a separate basin on a stand; then the tepidarium - or warm room, indirectly heated and with a tepid pool, and finally the frigidarium, a monumentally domed chamber with a large pool of cold water. Unusually, there are no other guests present, that is until they enter frigidarium. Dux Faustus rises from the pool as the 13th enter, naked as the day of his birth save for a wreath of laurel upon his head, woven through with fresh flowers and exotic fruits found only in the Grave.
"Friends! You arrive at last. Please, come in, be welcome!"
Upon seeing where they were being led, Garland quickly pulled aside the servants.
"I am afraid that I will have to pass on the bath," whispered Garland to them. He gestured to his mask and bandages, "The burns on my face make my skin too sensitive for such a thing."
The masked legionnaire went to address the others.
"As I told them, my burns make my skin too sensitive for a bath like this, so unfortunately, I cannot join you all. Hopefully, I will see you at dinner. Otherwise, please give the Dux my apologies that I could not attend."
Ilistra scowls as she disrobes and watches her belongings be carried off.
She sits rather rigidly in the sauna, not sweating at all, but already clean thanks to her prestidigitation that she had cast on herself before arriving.
The calidarium likewise doesn't bother her in the slightest as she sinks into the steaming pool. The bath with the lukewarm water is fine, but when she goes into the frigidarium her teeth begins chattering and she starts shivering uncontrollably. She has to fight to keep from heating up the water.
Due to her chattering teeth, she doesn't say anything to Dux Faustus unless addressed directly.
Darius goes through the entire ordeal with a stoic demeanor. Once they reach the frigid atrium, Dux offers a bow to the Dux and replies ”Thank you, Dux Faustus, for your hospitality. We are appreciative of your gracing us with an audience.”
"Of course, it is my pleasure. I hope you are enjoying the Golden Eagle experience so far. But wait, where is noble Garland?" The Dux asks. His smile falters a bit. "I do hope that he is well."
”His prior injuries from flames make experiences like this painful for him. He has elected to wait to join us for dinner, and sends his utmost humble apologies for his absence.”
"Oh, well, then let us not delay. If you are sufficiently clean, we move on to the evening's entertainments!"
The Dux wades out of the pool and claps his hands. More of the young serving staff rush forward to towel down his body. Not with the rough linen towels normally used, but with blankets of the softest wool. They then wrap him in a purple silk toga dripping with gold brocade and gemstones, clothing fit for royalty . A musician with a tiny pair of pipes arrives, and plays as the 13th are similarly toweled dry and dressed in the garments they arrived in.
The piper leads the way out of the baths, the Dux following and motioning the others behind him. After passing through a short hallway bedecked with the now familiar ostentation, they come to a door. A notice is fastened on the doorpost: “NO SLAVE TO GO OUT OF DOORS EXCEPT BY THE ORDERS. PENALTY, ONE HUNDRED STRIPES.” Just at the entrance stands a porter in green clothes, with a cherry-colored belt, shelling peas into a silver dish. It is here that Garland was obliged to wait for his companions. A golden cage hangs in the doorway, and a spotted magpie in it greets the visitors. The porter offers the peas to the guests as they pass through the doors into the private dining courtyard. The dux completely ignores him. "Garland, there you are, man! I was worried for you. Please, come!" The dux gives the masked soldier a hearty clap on the back before continuing.
Inside low divans rest around a mosaiced table, while fountains gurgle merrily from the fresco covered walls. Scenes of imperial conquerors lording over slave markets and tales of the Gods are depicted in startling beauty. As the group sits, a choir of boys from Aqua come in and pour water cooled with magically created snow over their hands. Others follow and kneel down at the guests' feet, and proceed with great skill to pare their hangnails. Even this unpleasant duty does not silence them. They keep singing at their work.
Some rich and tasty whets for the appetite are brought on; once everyone sits down except the Dux, who had the first place kept for him. A donkey in Terran bronze stands on the side-board, with panniers holding olives, white in one side, black in the other. There were also dormice rolled in honey and poppy-seed supported on little bridges soldered to the plate. Then there were hot sausages laid on a silver grill, and under the grill damsons and seeds of pomegranate. Once the group begins eating the Dux sits down. "I apologize, friends. This is the best I could come up with on short notice. If we were back home, well, suffice to say I would not content myself with such meager fare."
"This is more than adequate, your grace," Placidus replies, reaching out and taking one of the dormice. He pops it into his mouth and crunches it down. "Mmm. Delicious!"
"You say you came to Apollonia to search for a missing relative? Is it anything we might be able to help with?"
The Dux cheerful facade falls. "Yes, that is correct. My dear wife Cassiopeia has gone missing. I..."
The Dux looks truly miserable for a moment. "I was a fool."
"Saying it out loud is difficult...but I was never good enough for her. She was a unique and special woman, and I treated her like a house fixture. I squandered great wealth, ignored her needs, and behaved in a generally ignoble manner. When she left, it was a moment of crisis for me. I took it hard, but eventually decided to clean up my act. I was able to regain some measure of prosperity for our house, and would like to think that I am a better man now. Or, at least I am trying to be better. I am looking for her so I might apologize, to try to win her back. I would not die as a shame to my ancestors, a failed paterfamilias."
"I am hunting associates with the Crown Prince. When he heard of my plight, the Empire's Hope took pity on me and paid for a divination. Unfortunately, the oracle was quite vague. It led me only to search for her here, in the Grave."
That's not ominous, Ilistra thinks and almost says out loud. Fortunately, a combination of a full mouth and a desire to not say anything that would get her kicked out kept her silent.
She had marveled over the spread of food and generosity, but allowed herself to start eating. When he spoke of his missing wife, she finally understood. He needs us.
She sets her utensil down and studies their host.
As the rest of the 13th was well aware, while he still sat with everyone during meals, Garland normally ate his own food in private. However, given the occasion, he decided to be polite and make a genuine effort to eat what the Dux had provided for them. Very carefully, he broke each his food into a small pieces. From there, Garland moved his mask just slightly to the side and somewhat awkwardly consumed each bite through a small gap in the bandages around his mouth. He tended to look away from everyone while doing so.
Garland listens as Dux Faustus tells his tale. Not entirely sure what to say, the masked legionnaire ultimately opts to stay silent. No sequence of words or actions seems... adequate. However, it is quite clear that the Dux's story has left him somewhat forlorn.
"A sad tale. I promise that if we hear anything of your wife's whereabouts, I will let you know. We are leaving on an assignment soon, heading inland. I can't promise our help, but if we can without forsaking our duties, we will." Placidus turns to his companions. "Right?"
"You are a good man, Dux Faustus; it takes incredible strength of character to admit one's failings and improve upon them," Garland finally said. "I sincerely hope that one day you and your wife are reunited."
Darius nods quietly. He slowly picked at his food, enjoying each bite in turn as Dux Faustus spoke.
The Dux lowers his face for a moment to collect himself. "Thank you, Placidus."
"I hope so too, Garland. It is the duty of the Ruler to be incredible. A duty I failed. Every time I look my ancestral masks I am reminded of the weight of my name, and the honor of those who came before me." He clenches his fists. "I will be better," he says, almost to himself.
The Dux smiles once again, and stands clapping his hands. Suddenly the music changes, and the light dishes are swept away by a troop of singing servants. A chairman follows and sweeps out the rubbish. Just then some glass jars carefully fastened with gypsum are brought on, with labels tied to their necks, inscribed, 'Falernian of Opimius's vintage, 100 years in bottle', etc.
“Wine lives longer than miserable man. Let us be merry!” As they drink and admire each luxury in detail, a slave brings in a silver skeleton, made so that its limbs and spine could be moved and bent in every direction. He puts it down once or twice on the table so that the supple joints showed several attitudes, and Faustus says appropriately, “Alas for us poor mortals, all that man is, is nothing. So we shall all be, after the world below takes us away. Let us live then while it goes well with us.” He raises his glass in salute to the soldiers.
After everyone drinks, a round plate with the twelve signs of the Zodiac set in order is brought in. On each one the artist had laid some food fit and proper to the symbol; over the Ram ram's-head peas, a piece of beef on the Bull, kidneys over the Twins, over the Crab a crown, a fig from the plains of Terra over the Lion, a barren sow's paunch over Virgo, over Libra a pair of scales with a muffin on one side and a cake on the other, over Scorpio a small sea-fish, over Sagittarius a bull's-eye, over Capricornus a lobster, over Aquarius a goose, over Pisces two mullets. In the middle lay a honeycomb on a sod of turf with the green grass on it. A native boy brings bread round in a silver chafing-dish.
The next course follows before the first has been consumed. Four dancers run up in time with the music and take off the top part of the dish. Then the diners see in the well of it fat fowls and sow's bellies, and in the middle a hare got up with wings to look like Pegasus. Four figures of Narinari at the corners of the dish also catch the eye; they let a spiced sauce run from their wine-skins over the fishes, which swam about in a kind of tide-race.
Servants come in and spread over the couches coverlets painted with nets, and men lying in wait with hunting spears, and all the instruments of the chase. A great shout is raised outside the dining-room, and in come great Ignan hounds too, who begin running round the table. A tray is brought in after them with a wild boar of the largest size upon it, wearing a cap of freedom, with two little baskets woven of palm-twigs hanging from his tusks, one full of dry dates and the other of fresh. Round it lay suckling pigs made of simnel cake with their mouths to the teats, thereby showing that we had a sow before us. A big bearded ifrit with bands wound round his legs, and a spangled hunting-coat of damasked silk, draws a hunting-knife and plunges it hard into the boar's side, apparently to carve the pig. A number of thrushes fly out at the blow. As they flutter the diningroom there are fowlers ready with limed twigs to catch them in a moment. Faustus orders everybody to be given their own portion. Then boys come and take the baskets which hang from the sow's jaws and distribute fresh and dry dates to the guests along with their meat.
After some time passes for the 13th to eat the ridiculous feast set before them, when the wine begins to run low, Faustus says, "I'm afraid that was the final course I had prepared, friends. I do so hope that this little diversion has repaid some small portion of the debt I owe you for my life. If you are ever in need of aid, you may call on me."
"Thank you, Dux Faustus. I am inspired by your aim to correct your wrongs. If we are able to find Cassiopeia we will of course plead your case, that you might be able to make amends.
"In the meantime--Wow!!--I never dreamed of a feast like this! Thank you for your hospitality."
. . .
A few blocks later, as they walk back to the warehouse (sluggish from the feast and the wine), Cica takes her hand off her belly to scratch her armpit and says, "I don't have any clue if a man who ignores his partner will have an easy time becoming attentive--especially one raised to such excess--but if we can find Cassiopeia before we are ready to leave, I'm certainly happy to at least pass on his desires. She deserves to at least know she has the option.
"And if we do, maybe we'll get another in-f*&kin-credible feast like that again. Did you even imagine?!?!"
Placidus profusely thanks the Dux as well before making his way out of the taberna with the others.
"I have stood watch over similar affairs in the past, but I never imagined myself taking part, no. Opulence is the part of the Ruler."
Placidus seems contemplative. "I suppose we stand to become Rulers ourselves. How strange..."
"If we manage it, I hope I can maintain the dignitas needed to do our people justice. Such responsibility...to hold power and keep corruption at arm's length. It seems a heavy burden to bear."
He shrugs. "The food sure was good though!" he agrees, giving Cica a hearty laugh.
Ilistra had never known such a full belly, and it did her in. She dozes somewhere during the feast, only to be woken up by the birds flying around with a start. She then tries to eat some more of the later courses, but truly finds no room in her stomach.
As they finally leave, she falls behind the group, being in real pain. She gets sick along the way, which only marginally helps her feel better.
Garland also thanked Dux Faustus for the meal and his hospitality. Thanks to his slower method of eating, the masked legionnaire had not positively stuffed as the others. However, his heroic belly was still quite full!
"I think it would be best to retire soon," said Garland. "We luckily do not have to wake at the crack of dawn. However, since securing the help of our prospective guide might take time, I would like to shop a bit before departing."
The warehouse is surprisingly more comfortable than the Thirteenth's barracks in the Guard base had been. Everything is painted, there is no rotten wood, or leaks in the roof. Cleverly placed screened windows take advantage of the sea breeze to make the bunkroom above the storage area relatively cool. There is even a latrine closet with a chute directly into the sea! Below on the warehouse floor slaves and auxilliaries gather supplies and animals for the coming expedition. The Twelwth is present supervising things. Jask is in the bunkroom. He was asleep when the group got back from the Golden Eagle last night, but upon waking to find them 'home' he seems very happy.
"Good morning, everyone. Would anyone like to join me in prayer before breaking fast?"
After the feast is concluded with Dux Faustus, Darius turns to the group and says ”I must go and procure further supplies for the expedition. I shall join you at the warehouse later.”
Later that night, a good bit after sunset, Darius returns with his hired associate atop a wagon pulled by two large, black horses. The contents of the wagon are covered with a blanket. His lady friend handles the wagon, and drives it inside the warehouse for storage.
__________
Darius nods to Jask and says ”Indeed, and good morning to you,” as he kneels down to take part in morning prayer.
Ilistra tossed and turned all night, still reeling from the effects of overeating. When the morning arrives, she revels in the opportunity to sleep without cudgel-like ladles beating her awake.
She groans at the thought of more food, and turns over to try to catch some more sleep.
Jask takes out the items normally associated with prayer - mats for kneeling, a small potted bonsai tree, an oil lamp, a bowl of holy water, a large crystal and fan. He lays out the elements at the four cardinal directions and places the tree in the center.
Placidus joins in, adding his own unique prayer elements to the impromptu altar. After the Elemental Lords have been honored with their representations, the priests kneel on their mats and begin the process of silent meditation focused on the five elements that make up all things. Jask places a small hourglass beside them to time the ritual. The object of such prayer is to focus the mind, and remind the individual that they are but a part of the greater whole. By praying the adherents seek unity with the elements that create them, and the peace that comes with the lack of identification as a solitary being with unfulfilled wants and desires. When the hourglass runs out, they bow in unison, touching their heads to the floor for a moment before rising and packing away the religious paraphernalia.
Breakfast is watered wine, bread, olives and hard cheese with a side of fish sauce for those who desire it.
Jask turn to those who are eating an asks, "What will you do now? We still have five days until we are due to leave." He looks around to make sure no one is close enough to overhear. "I am making good progress on translating the notes, we shouldn't have much trouble locating the place they describe."
As usual, our hero woke up early to take Luna for her morning walk!
"We will be meeting Alexandra around noon. The plan is for her to take us to the Pallid Bluffs," explained Garland during breakfast. "Before then, I plan to shop for supplies. I think another one of those horses jungle oxen Darius secured would be useful."
The holy man Nkechi lives alone in a cave atop a jagged seaside cliff face several miles north of the city, known as the Pallid Bluffs. These great cliffs form the very edge of a long promontory and drop some hundreds of feet into the angry sea. In order to find the mystic’s hermitage, the Thirteenth were advised to approach the Pallid Bluffs from the shore, as his cave cannot be spotted from above. The best route is to take a small boat up the coast and try to row in at high tide when the ocean waters cover most of the rocky shore. Luckily they have Alexandra at hand.
They find her at noon, reasonably sober in her shack waiting for them. The boat is ready for their outing when the soldiers arrive. "All quiet 'round here. I don't think anyone suspects this drunk to be sitting on any kind of paper other than the toilet kind. Ready to roll?"
The voyage to the Bluffs is relatively short and uneventful. Jagged seaside cliffs of pale limestone tower over the rocky shore. Gulls weave overhead in the updraft, while from below rise the deafening echoes of the roiling surf as it beats against the rocks. The cliff face is a staggering 300 feet tall. The waters here are shallow, never reaching depths of more than 3 feet. Still, the rock and sand beneath make for uneasy footing, and the pounding surf and strong undertow make traveling to the crags dangerous.
"...And what to my wondering eyes should appear?" Garland remarked suddenly. Assuming he could get there safely, the masked legionnaire approached a pile of stones at the base of the cliff and picked up a conch shell horn. After carefully moving his mask to the side and wiggling one end through his bandages, Garland took a deep breath and tried to make use the conch to make some noise!
Cica ties a rope around her waist for safety and hands it to Placidus and Garland. As she does, she takes a moment to think of how a frog would ground itself in such conditions.
Thus prepared, she says, "Alrighty. This doesn't look too bad, but hang tight there just in case."
She then steps in and tries to wade methodically toward the conch.
Cica manages to make it to the conch and blow it before a large wave slams into her.
She falls over, but manages to swim in place rather than being dragged out to sea.
High above upon a narrow ledge, a dark-skinned man appears. Dressed in nothing but a loincloth, his wild, knotted hair whips about in the wind. Shouting above the crashing surf he calls down, “Who are you and for what purpose do you seek me?”
Meanwhile, Cica sees two giant crabs scuttle out from behind nearby boulders at the base of the cliff. They appear to be eyeing her hungrily, and seem ready to attack at any moment.
"Greetings, Nkechi!" Garland called out in the meanwhile. He quickly introduced the group before getting straight to business, "Our intentions are purely peaceful! We simply seek a wise and seasoned guide such as yourself to help us reach the legendary lost city of Saventh-Yhi. Would you be willing to discuss terms for joining our expedition?"
Nkechi clambers down a series of handhold and switchbacks on the cliff face, reaching the shore just as the crabs are getting up their courage. Though he is still agile and muscular of form, Nkechi’s face and knuckles bear fine creases that show his age. Wind and sea salt have turned his dark skin rough and ashen, and his palms and soles are caked with white chalk from climbing the cliff face. He has long, graying dreadlocks and a scraggly beard, and dresses in nothing but a loincloth. He shouts at the beasts and waves his arms about, and they scuttle back to their hiding spots. "Magnificent little creatures," he comments of the larger than him crabs. Standing at the base of the cliff, he squints at the soldiers. "In truth, I am skeptical of your abilities."
"At best you seem to me blissful incompetents. I doubt you even capable of finding your way back to town, much less through the jungle. But the Lords may have different ideas, and it may serve their purpose for me to accompany you. I am willing to accept your proposal if you first prove yourselves by completing two simple tests, one of wind and one of water. Of course, you may decline, but I must add that if you fear performing Neptuna and Vayu’s simple tasks, there is no way you will survive the jungle.” Nkechi offers them a gap-toothed mad grin and waits for their response as the waves threaten to topple Cica into the surf once again.
She falls over again, but her skill in the water is enough to keep her treading in place. Nkechi looks impressed, by her at least.
Cia sputters a bit as the wave washes over her. "Aye! We're happy to serve the Lords. Say more. May we join you on your island?"
"No, you may not. My 'island'," he says gesturing to the cliff face where he is perched just above the pounding surf, "Is private, and booby trapped to the hilt. I'd probably die of old age before pointing them all out to you. Which test will you face first, wind or water?"