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“The sun’ll be down soon.” The tall, sunbrowned horselord, Gioret Almere, turned to one of the Kellid children leaning over the rail of the horse pen where his riders were still breaking in a new chiardmar stallion. “Go tell Miera she can light the bonfires now. Our remaining guests will be here soon.” He shaded his eyes against the brilliance of the orange-and-purple sunset along the western foothills where he could just make out a couple of silhouetted figures on horseback picking their way down the rock-strewn trail from the Mindspin Mountains. He knew they’d reach the town’s outskirts soon, and then he’d have to explain why he called them to his ranch.
With a resigned sigh, Gioret looked sidelong at the others standing next to him. There was the lean Nidalese merchant, Suetonius, and his half-elven colleague, Lydia. And after them stood the ex-Molthuni soldier Bastian and the estranged elven wife of an agent of the Umbral Court, Daehalya. He’d called the four of them, as well, and invited his guests to enjoy the hospitality of his small community during the Feast of the Survivors. The holiday would serve as a stark reminder of what the prior generations of Nidal had given to protect their community’s way of life. But, with the Umbral Court sponsoring so many dream hunts among the Atteran Ranches now, Gioret knew his people’s future was growing darker by the day…
His mood had turned melancholy again, so Gioret sought the best way he knew to lift his spirits. “Why don’t we ride out to meet them?” he suggested. Then, with a sharp whistle to one of his men, he held up five fingers and pointed to himself, Bastian, Daehalya, Lydia, and Suetonius. A few moments later, several ranch hands brought around a small herd of saddled nidarrmars, the champion horses of Nidal. Pushing away from the rail, he limped to the side of his selected mount and slowly climbed into the saddle. Sitting tall again, a renewed sense of purpose settled over him, and he felt like a chieftain worthy of his horselord ancestors, despite grimacing against the pain in his knee.
“Well? The four of you coming along?” he called down, “We might as well get introductions out of the way. And, quite honestly, some of that might best be done out on the range rather than here with so many eyes and ears around…”
Daehalya looks a bit nervous as the horses approach; riding is far from the slender -- almost gaunt -- elf's forte, but she doesn't want to be rude. Her fingers seem to twitch for a moment. She's learned how much their horses mean to the people of the Atteran Ranches, and while she could cross the distance just as quickly under her own power, she tries at least to be considerate of others' feelings. In the end, she quickly rubs her hands along her pants and, awkwardly holding the longsword at her hip out of her way, mounts the fine nidarrmar.
Patting its neck absently, she glances at her companions and waits for them.
"Who is this we're meeting again?" she ask Gioret.
His warning about 'eyes and ears' reminds her this country has a darkness to it that belies normal behavior. Was the Kellid chief who'd been their friend since she had left her husband in such dramatic fashion really so concerned even among his own people?
He seemed more sanguine about those making their way to the ranch, and so -- without waiting any longer -- Daehalya set her heels to her horse's side, banging them in a manner that made her lack of riding experience all too clear to set out in the latecomers' direction. The gloom proves little obstacle for her, the setting sun providing more than enough light for her to see.
Suetonius strains his eyes to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals, ever-wary of new faces. He trusted Gioret implicitly; there was too much shared history there. However, the man could always be duped by a particularly cunning Court agent, or someone being strong-armed by such an individual into being an unwilling pawn...
He is roused from his morose (nay, paranoid!) thoughts, when a large black butterfly, a faint tracery of white dots, like stars in the night sky, lands on his shoulder.
Suetonius smiles, as Arha's presence, as always, calms him, curbing his unhealthy brooding.
"Come then - let's go meet them, and make our introductions, so that we can get down to the brass tacks of why we have all been brought here."
Getting on horseback, he is a little ungainly, being used to driving wagons, more than riding horses, but he still manages to stay in his saddle, as the group rides out to meet the new arrivals.
Hopefully, they are not shadow-creatures wearing the forms of men...
Lydia seems more comfortable in the saddle than her companion, or at least her stoic facade hides her nervousness better. She clutches the reins as she rides alongside Suetonius.
"Aye, there are people who need our help. The longer we dally, the longer they have to suffer."
The half-elf looks over at Bastien and Dahaelya, staring them with a quiet intensity as if peering into their souls.
Bastian held the reins of Daehalya`s horse frimly as she mounted, waiting until she was secure in the saddle before releasing his grip and mounting his own nidarrmar. Despite being clad in heavy armor, he swung into the saddle with relative ease, although he was still awkward compared to Gioret.
He relaxed his grip on the reins and used his knees to guide the purebred horse as he adjusted his gear to make sure he could draw his weapons swiftly if needed. He had little doubt the horse was trained to carry riders in combat. .
Falling into line behind Daehalya, he rode in silence as he waited for Gioret to answer her question.
"Thank you, Master Garmont," Daehalya says formally, her aristocratic Kyoni accent coming through even more clearly.
Daehalya appears to be lawful good.
Lydia nods, seemingly satisfied, and returns her attention to the road ahead.
"Who is this we're meeting again?"
"I sent word to a few friends in the Pathfinder Society," Gioret shares with everyone, "I was hoping one of their agents might give us a hand. You see, there's an ancient barrowmound that needs investigating...a place from the history of my own people, from long before Earthfall. There's a...friend of mine. She's been helping the people of Nidal, and specifically the followers of Desna, for a long time. And now, she needs my help. Unfortunately, this old busted knee of mine just isn't as reliable as it used to be, or I'd take on this adventure myself. Nowadays, though, I'm no good unless I'm sitting high in the saddle. I just can't ride a nidarrmar into a tomb, you know?"
Gioret's horses carry the group across the Atteran plain, steadily drawing closer to the distant figures. Though both seem mounted, one looks considerably shorter than the other. The horselord leans forward to try and pick out a few more details against the setting sun, before adding, "Ailis Slagdam is a dwarf. From what I've heard, she left her clan in the mountains several years ago. Made a name for herself in the Pathfinder Chronicles excavating ancient lore from an underground cyclopean ruin. My contacts recommended her. The Venture-Captain said she was the closest agent in this region, and her experience was a good match for this expedition. I've never met her, so I guess we'll see."
He squints again as they draw near, passing through the glare of the direct sunlight and into the waning shadow of the distant mountains. The two visitors immediately come into clearer view. "Looks like the other is a Kellid. Maybe a daughter of the plains by the way she sits a horse. I don't recognize her, though. So, she's not of my clan. The ranchers here are on good terms, generally speaking, with the dwarves of the highlands, so maybe she hired someone from another ranch to guide her to Almere?"
"Once we meet them, I'll give all of you a few more details about the lady who's sponsoring this effort. And I'd prefer to do that out here, as some of it's only for those I can fully trust. Given all the things the four of you have gone through or done for our people, you've earned that kind of trust many times over now. I only ask that you keep what you learn tonight in the strictest confidence. Otherwise, the Umbral Court will descend on us faster than these horses can run."
As the riders finally clear the tall grass and emerge on a sandy slope, Gioret reins to a stop and awaits the approaching visitors. The horses stamp in place, as if eager to press on, but the horselord's murmurs calm them soon enough. "Ho, travelers!" he calls out, "You must be Ailis? We've been expecting you. Thanks for coming. I suspect it's been a long journey. We're preparing a feast tonight...a Nidalese holiday...but you're welcome to partake and ease your bones. Who's this you've brought with you?"
Astride a pony, combined with her reduced stature, it may seem a little comical to some that the horsemaster addresses Ailis rather than her tall, muscular friend riding high on a much larger horse. Ailis is obviously outfitted as a spelunker, with everything from ropes and pitons to a small tent hanging from her back and saddlebags. She also carries a sword, an axe, and a bow.
She rides confidently although not too assuredly, likely never having spent too much time on a horse. She throws back her hood to reveal an auburn ponytail framing a strong-boned and determined face. She calls out in response, her dwarven accent still audible even through voice lessons in Taldan Common: "Aye, Ailis is m'name. And you - Gioret? Nice of you to ride out to meet us. Didn't have to do that."
"This is a friend of mine, name of Lesska. She's as good a warrior as any I'd met, so when I heard you had some work, well, couldn't say no to inviting her. What is that work, anyhow?"
Lesska enjoyed the ride, or rather she enjoyed the physicality of riding a horse. But entering her homeland all but marred the occasion. Still, Ailis was by her side, Ailis who seemed much more settled on her pony than Lesska did on her warhorse.
Gioret. Gioret Almere. A good chieftain by all accounts. But a good man?
Lesska eases her mount to a slow walk as the party approaches, then stops as Gioret hails Ailis. Lesska sits quietly as Ailis is welcomed, and when introduced she states matter of factly.
"Lesska Tamskar." Her gaze lingers for a moment on Gioret's, wondering if he knows her tale.
Well worn furs attest to a traveller in colder climes, the equally well worn Kellid longspear at her back and banded armor beneath her furs show her to be a warrior. She wears her hair long, held off her weathered Kellid-brown face by a headband. At her neck rests a fetish of some kind, an amalgam of feathers and talons, beads stones, small avian skulls and bones.
She nods to each of you it turn by way of greeting.
"Daehalya Sha -- Daehalya," the elven woman says, cutting off what she'd planned to say and then repeating just her given name with more determination.
She wears basic leathers, with no armor other than a buckler on her arm, though she carries a sword at her hip and bow on her back, along with an assortment of pouches. Difficult to see as the sun sets, her purple eyes seem to have no whites, the irises huge as they drink up light to let her see easily in the gathering gloom.
She gives a smile to the two newcomers, and then turns to Gioret.
"If your friend is helping that's helping doing something about the awfulness of the Umbral Court," she says, voice hardening, "we certainly will do our best to help her."
"Aye, Ailis is m'name. And you - Gioret? Nice of you to ride out to meet us. Didn't have to do that....This is a friend of mine, name of Lesska.
Gioret nods and waves away any sense of inconvenience in riding out to meet them.
[b]"Lesska Tamskar."
The horselord pauses for a moment as he regards Lesska a little more closely, a flicker of concern momentarily in his eyes. Whatever he might have said in response to her name goes unspoken, however, as Ailis steers the conversation back to business.
She's as good a warrior as any I'd met, so when I heard you had some work, well, couldn't say no to inviting her. What is that work, anyhow?"
"It's an expedition," he answers, "To retrieve an item of power from the tomb of one of our ancestors. A friend of mine requested assistance in securing and safeguarding it against those who would use it for ill among her own people. She'll be here at nightfall, hopefully while the feast is in full swing. And during that time, I'll draw the six of you away from the celebration and I'll take you to her. Her name's Aiyana, but she'll tell you the rest of her story. Before you meet her, though, I want you to know she's taken great risk upon herself several times on our behalf. So, it's the least I could do to help her in return. I'd trust her with my life. And, I've trusted her with the lives of many others in the past."
With a tug on his reins, Gioret turns his stallion to direct it back towards the ranch, inviting everyone else to fall in alongside him. As the horses move back into the tall grass, he continues speaking about their unknown patron. "A few of you already know, Nidal is a harsh country. The Umbral Court holds sway and their cruelty is so entrenched in the worship of Zon-Kuthon, that they brook no other faiths that might challenge them. It didn't use to be that way. Long ago, the Atteran horselords roamed these plains and defended their clans against all kinds of raiders from the mountains above and the caverns below. Gozreh was our patron, as he provided the life-giving rains to grow the grain to feed ourselves and our livestock."
He leans across the pommel of his saddle, looking over at Ailis and Lesska. "There are those of us who would see it that way again," he shares, "And though it's sacrilegious for me to state that...and it would earn me no undue amount of pain in the hands of a Kuthite torturer...I say it proudly, because I hold myself to a higher morality. Thankfully, I've had allies in this cause for quite some time now. While Gozreh's followers aren't typically the kind to actively throw off the yoke of tyranny, the faith of Desna revels in it. The Umbral Court knows it, and that's why they fear them and persecute them every chance they can get."
Gioret indicates Lydia and Suetonius. "These two have had an active part in helping me smuggle such 'heretics' out of Nidal before agents of the Umbra Court can root them out and make an example of them." He then gestures towards Bastian and Daehalya. "And these two have had more recent experiences, learning first hand the efforts to which Kuthites will go to hunt them down."
He then slows his horse before they draw within earshot of the ranch again. "But what a lot of people don't know...including those of you I've assembled here...is that I haven't just been smuggling Desnans out of Nidal. I've also been smuggling them in..." He nods at Lydia. "My apologies for not sharing that with you before, but I wanted you and Suetonius focused purely on getting Desna's followers out of harm's way when the Umbral Court identifies them."
"But, no...I needed a different route for smuggling Desnan agents, agitators, and saboteurs into the country. That way, while the Umbral Court was focused on trying to catch those escaping through the mountains, they wouldn't detect the others coming through the passages under the mountains." He then drew his horse into a tight turn so he could face everyone. "That's what Aiyana's been doing. She's from the Darklands. And, while there's a limit to how much she's been able to help us, that aid has been invaluable. It's made a real difference for many of us here in Nidal...to endure the madness that reigns in Pangolais. Now, she says her people are in dire need...and that's why I feel compelled to help her however I can. And, I hope you'll feel the same..."
Gesturing at Ailis, he turns his attention directly towards the Pathfinder. "Miss Slagdam, I recognize that all of that isn't likely to be the most motivating factor for you. I've had dealings with the Pathfinder Society before, however. Many of their agents also seek to find their way into Nidal. After all, we have many of the oldest recorded histories prior to Earthfall here. And, aside from smuggling Desnans into our country, Aiyana has occasionally helped one of your own make their way here undetected, as well."
"In addition," he notes, "The tomb Aiyana seeks is one of the oldest among our barrowmounds. I have no doubt it too will have many mysteries to understand and lots of lore to recover. The kind that might make a new chapter for you in the Pathfinder Chronicles, perhaps. Your Venture-Captain indicated your interest in that kind of thing. And, from what Aiyana tells me, this particular adventure will pay well, too. But...I'll let her speak on that when she gets here. I just ask that you be open-minded when you meet her. Be willing to hear what she has to say. And then, decide for yourselves if you're moved to aid her the same way I am. And, if not, I can always send you on your way...none for the worse...while I search for others who'd be willing to accompany her on this expedition."
"Now...," he looks back towards the ranch where a couple of large bonfires have been set ablaze and a long table is being set up in anticipation of the Feast of the Survivors. "Before we ride in...do you have anything more we should discuss ahead of Aiyana's arrival?"
Lydia's eyes widen slightly when Gioret mentions that he's been smuggling Desnans into Nidal. She listens with interest to his story, and when he has finished, she nods approvingly.
"You can count on my aid in this endeavor. I will assist Aiyana in any way that I can. Once the task is complete, I would ask that you introduce me to the Desna followers you've brought back into the country. The time has come for me to...take care of business here at home. With a cadre of strong allies and a bit of Desna's own luck, we will liberate Nidal from the darkness that has claimed it. This, I swear."
Ailis frowns during the entirety of Gioret's speech. While she might have remained more passive if she were a political sort of person, she is not. So, she frowns. And when the horselord refers to her as "Miss Slagdam", she visibly flinches. That name is a sign of her shame, so she quietly clears her throat and just says, "Er, just Ailis is fine, please."
As she continues to listen, she struggles to keep up with the intricacies of the task. That it paid, both in money and in knowledge, made it worth pursuing, but as far as she could tell they were being asked to retrieve some kind of powerful item and then deliver it to someone else. The Decimvirate would not be happy about that. They would expect her to abscond with the item. That made things complicated.
Still, as Gioret said, she would "be open-minded". This adventure would be profitable, one way or the other. And, it seemed, it might help people. She nods and follows along.
An interesting tale. And just as interesting is the part he isn’t telling us... Bastian thought. By all appearances, this was a capable group. Whatever they would be asked to recover wouldn’t be easy to bring back. And this mysterious contact.
My pardon, Lord Almere. You mention that Aiyana is a native of the Darklands. And by your tone, I sense that she and her people rarely seen walking under the sun. Bastian remarked in a curious tone.
"Er, just Ailis is fine, please."
"As you wish..." Gioret nods at the dwarf's request.
"You can count on my aid in this endeavor. I will assist Aiyana in any way that I can. Once the task is complete, I would ask that you introduce me to the Desna followers you've brought back into the country. The time has come for me to...take care of business here at home. With a cadre of strong allies and a bit of Desna's own luck, we will liberate Nidal from the darkness that has claimed it. This, I swear."
"I know your passion for our cause. I'll see that it's done..."
My pardon, Lord Almere. You mention that Aiyana is a native of the Darklands. And by your tone, I sense that she and her people are rarely seen walking under the sun.
"Under the sun? Rarely, if ever..." Gioret remarks, "But under the starry sky? Or the dark canopy of Pangolais and the Uskwood? Her kind are found there often enough, as many have immigrated to Nidal over the years. You see, Aiyana comes from the dark folk...or, caligni, as they call themselves. Their people and culture still remain very much a mystery to most who encounter them...as they're a secretive lot, and difficult to find if they don't want to be..."
"How do you plan to draw us away from the feast?" Daehalya asks. "Are you really worried about others who will be there? I know we don't talk openly about what we've been doing, but ... should we be more worried than usual? I have magic that might be able to help mask our departure if you think it's needed..."
"How do you plan to draw us away from the feast?" Daehalya asks. "Are you really worried about others who will be there? I know we don't talk openly about what we've been doing, but ... should we be more worried than usual? I have magic that might be able to help mask our departure if you think it's needed..."
"I'm always worried," Gioret responds, "Perhaps moreso of late, because one of my scouts sent word that there's another 'dream hunt' underway. That means active Umbral Court agents and shadowcasters bringing more attention to our part of Nidal. And, given Aiyana's presence here, not to mention your own, that could be problematic if they were to look on Almere. Especially since they're sponsored by Mathion again. I swear, that nobleman's not gonna stop until he finds the two of you. And, any Desnans he sweeps up along the way, all the better from his point of view."
"Regardless, the festival time is a convenient cover. Lots of folks from outlying farms and settlements, and even some foreigners, will visit with us. So, the presence of someone like Ailis shouldn't draw too much attention. The same goes for Suetonius and Lydia, but you and Bastian should probably stay vigilant. If a call goes up that agents from Pangolais are approaching, do what you can to stay out of sight while I meet with them. Once I've sent them on their way, we should be fine."
Gioret turns toward Ailis again to further explain. "My apologies for involving you in a matter that concerns the inner politics of Nidal, however, as you likely know, these kinds of expeditions can often draw the attention of local powers. In fact, one of our worries is if the Umbral Court were to learn of a potent artifact from before Earthfall buried in one of our warlord's tombs, they'd try to claim it...and use it...for themselves. That kind of power in the wrong hands would hamper our cause...and likely doom all of us."
"Dae? he turns back to the elf, "I'd advise against relying too heavily on your magic in this particular case, especially if it deals with shadow. Some of the Umbral Court's agents can sense that kind of thing and it might draw even more attention if you're found. But, look, the odds of a bunch of 'dream hunters' interrupting our Festival of the Survivors is small. More likely, you should be fine. Enjoy the food. Get to know one another. Get to know our people a little, as well. And, when the moment's right, I'll gather all of you up and take you to meet Aiyana."
Suetonius nods thoughtfully.
"It was undoubtedly wise to play your cards close to your chest; the fewer who knew about your alternate pathway, the better, if for no other reason than that it reduces the temptation to use it, and therefore accidentally expose it."
At the mention of a powerful artifact hidden in a barrow, he frowns.
"What sort of artifact are we talking about, and what sort of... residents... are we likely to find in the barrow?"
He then smiles.
"Regardless, I am hardly likely to judge someone based on their appearance; I know all too well that what is important is what people do. If you trust her, it would be foolish of me to trust her any less than any of the others here, now. I will be more than happy to help with this endeavor."
Daehalya nods, ready for the moment.
She assumes she'll have more questions once she, Master Garmont and their new acquaintances meet Gioret's friend.
Fascinating. I've heard of the Dark Folk, but it will be interesting to meet one in the flesh.
She turns her horse, ready to head back to the ranch.
"What sort of artifact are we talking about, and what sort of... residents... are we likely to find in the barrow?"
"That's for Aiyana to explain. As for residents? It's a tomb. There shouldn't be anything living there...it's been sealed for ages."
Suetonius frowns.
"All sorts of things can be sealed into tombs... and there are many stories about the barrows of the Horse Lords... almost all universally cautionary..."
He then shrugs, and smiles.
"Hopefully, though, this will just turn out to be one of those ones that *is* just a storage chamber for eternity, right?"
"All sorts of things can be sealed into tombs... and there are many stories about the barrows of the Horse Lords... almost all universally cautionary...Hopefully, though, this will just turn out to be one of those ones that *is* just a storage chamber for eternity, right?"
"This one's a bit different. Even our own people shun it. The warlord buried there was from a dark time in our history. Perhaps, darker even than the days we face now...but, I suppose you'll learn more of that when we talk later tonight...and, of course, when you venture there. If I'm honest, I'm as curious as anyone about what you'll find inside."
I am always vigilant, Lord Almere, and Lady Daehalya is more than capable of dealing with the Umbral Court agents and their shadow pets. Bastian said in response to the horselord's caution. His tone was not unfriendly, but his formal reference to the elven wizard stood in marked contrast to Gioret's casual shortening of her name.
I had hoped it would be longer before Mathion assembled another posse of dream hunters, but I can't say I'm surprised. Men of his sort respond poorly to defiance...
With a glance towards Daehalya, the ex-militiaman trailed off, unwilling to discuss private matters among a group of strangers. Instead, he listened in silence as the others discussed the objective and destination.
In my experience, tombs that contain artifacts of power are rarely unguarded. It may prove fortunate that our band includes both seasoned explorers and wielders of divine power.
I am always vigilant, Lord Almere, and Lady Daehalya is more than capable of dealing with the Umbral Court agents and their shadow pets.
"Oh, I know she can, Bastian. But I'm less worried about that than I am about the collateral damage that would occur to all the people gathered here. A leader has to be concerned with far more than just the well-being of individuals. He has to consider the larger picture, as well. There have been many times I would have liked to strike down every agent of the Umbral Court that sets foot in these plains...and make no doubt, in my youth, I could've slain a great many of them before sacrificing my own life, but I also know how swift and terrible their retribution would be on those I'd be powerless to protect thereafter. So, I mean no disrespect regarding the powers any of you command. I only ask that you think before using them. Think not only of those you intend to harm, but also those you never meant to..."
I had hoped it would be longer before Mathion assembled another posse of dream hunters, but I can't say I'm surprised. Men of his sort respond poorly to defiance...
"Recent word from Pangolais says he's officially joined the Umbral Court now. That kind of power enables him to extend his reach here as often as he'd like. And, given the motivation he draws from your last conflict, I have no doubt he intends to exercise it as often as possible until he gets what he wants..."
You are right, of course. Such a confrontation would be devastating if it took place among innocent and unarmed people. My former commander used to stress the importance of shielding civilians from violence. Good leaders think alike, I suppose. All things considered, this little excursion is probably not a bad way for the pair of us to do some good while staying off the beaten track.
Suetonius raises an eyebrow, and smiles wryly.
"Expecting the worst does tend to mean you don't get many nasty surprises. I just hope it isn't one of those cases where it was built to keep something in, rather than keep others out... although with that story, I would certainly give even odds of the former..."
Lesska listens under hooded eyes as Gioret explains the nature of their mission to Ailis.
Secrets at a Kellid gathering. How I have missed home.
Her ears prick up at the mention of the barrowmound, and she wonders if the horselord interred within had any ties to the Sarkoris, though that was a long time ago.
Mostly she is happy to ride, though nervous that, though far from her clan, she might be called out.
Ailis is certainly not one to be heavy on collateral damage. She's small and agile enough that she rarely hits anything other than her target with her axe. It's not like she's a wizard, slinging fireballs around. But still, she understands the point. She won't break out into violence during a feast.
With nothing useful to say, she just follows along.
"I will remain alert during the feast for any who would try to disrupt it," Lydia asserts.
"Yes, I guess he was always driven," Daehalya says sadly. "That's what made him..."
She shakes her head, denying the thought.
Satisfied with the assembled party, Gioret guides everyone back to the ranch, leading the horses to a large stable, dismounting, and then turning them over to one of his men. He introduces all of you as newcomers and visiting dignitaries to allay any suspicion. Cooks and servants start supplying the long table with platters of food...smoked ham, cutlets of flank steak, roasted potatoes, braised cabbage, glazed carrots, biscuits, assorted pies, and mulled wine to wash it all down. Dinner conversation reveals that many of these delicacies are less available in Nidal's shadowy capital (though they're certainly imported there). But, the ranchers of the Atteran plains enjoy more direct sunlight on the nation's borderlands, and a longer growing season as a result, enabling them to feast on such fare year round.
Also of note, the table itself is composed of several bones serving as legs and supports for the layer of planks holding all the dishes. Gioret and other elders take turns commenting on the importance of them, reminding everyone that they represent their ancestors, honoring the work and sacrifices all of them made to give future generations the opportunities they now enjoy. Indeed, a closer examination of the bones reveals they're quite real, and not just a macabre decoration.
Periodically, the other attendees strike up conversations with each of you, asking about your travels and occupations, commenting on some bit of jewelry or attire that draws their interest, or praising the Festival of the Survivors as their favorite Kuthite ceremony. Apparently, the other observances in the faith of Zon-Kuthon are much more cruel. But, this season allows them to remember the times of their ancestors, including the Kellids who roamed these plains long before the Age of Darkness descended on Nidal. When the wine loosens tongues a touch too far, Gioret chimes in to caution some of the party-goers against criticizing the Umbral Court and Zon-Kuthon's priesthood too much, lest they be overheard by more devout followers and labeled heretics.
On one of these occasions, a servant leans close to whisper something in Gioret's ear. With a nod, he rises and circles the table, pausing briefly to tap each of you on the shoulder. "It's time. Our other guest has arrived." He encourages you to then take your leave of the feast so he can escort you across the compound, moving ever further away from the light of the bonfires and into the dark. Even with his limp, Gioret is sure-footed enough to navigate the ranch with nothing but starlight to guide him. He takes you past the ranchhouse, around the stable, and then to a cellar door near one of the grainhouses.
"We use this place to shelter from windstorms sometimes," he explains to Ailis and Lesska, "But, as your other companions already know, it serves an alternate purpose, as well." He opens the door and then leads all of you below into the pitch dark cellar. Near the back wall, he depresses a switch and a secret door opens, emerging into a larger underground space. "Aiyana?" he tentatively calls out, "Are you there?"
"I'm here, Gioret," an amused voice, feminine and soft, replies, "Watch your head. Careful you don't hit it on the crossbeam..." A few more words of murmured magic fills the small room and a bluish light begins to emanate from a small globe clutched in a pair of gloved hands. It barely illuminates the slender, hooded figure standing in the middle of the cellar near a low wooden table and a pile of sacks filled with grain. She places the glowing sphere on top of one of the sacks and then draws back her hood.
"Greetings, heroes of the Land Above. I'm eager to know more about you. Gioret speaks highly of your prowess and your skills. I'm Aiyana of Lyrudrada." The young lady appears before you with pale gray skin and perfectly white hair, but the youthful countenance of a human no older than 20 summers. Her azure blue eyes sparkle with a much older wisdom, however, and she smiles pleasantly as she regards each of you in turn. "Please, be seated. I'm sure you're all wondering why Gioret and I would call you here." She gestures toward the small table and a sack cloth tarp covering much of the cellar floor. Behind you, Gioret shuts the secret door before joining you.
"Thank you for agreeing to this meeting," she begins, "Gioret has told me of your exploits, and my people have need of your abilities. As I said, my name is Aiyana, and I hail from the city of Lyrudrada underneath the southern reaches of your Mindspin Mountains." Aiyana speaks a few words of magic and a soft image begins to grow in the middle of the room...an illusion, to be sure, but an artistic one, revealing the dimly-lit spires of an underground cavern complex. "The people of my city...the caligni, or dark folk, as you call us...have long been capricious and unpredictable, but of late they have fallen under the malign influence of a cult called the Reborn...an organization which I fear has dangerous plans, not just for my homeland, but potentially yours, as well."
"You see, the Reborn seek a powerful artifact to aid them in their plans of conquest. It is called the Cradle of Night. While we know very little about this magical treasure, other than it played a role in the formation of my kind millennia ago, it's said that it can manipulate energy drawn directly from the Plane of Shadow. My peoples’ history is riddled with conflicts, and it shames me to admit that we, as a culture, have never excelled at preserving our ancestral lore. Specific details about the Cradle of Night have been lost, but my allies in Lyrudrada have divined that if the Reborn gain control of it, they’ll learn the full extent of its powers and master them soon enough...all to our detriment, I fear."
She waves her hand and the image of Lyrudrada changes as an army of warriors marches upon it, destroying many of the city's spires and crushing its defenses. "Many centuries ago, the Cradle of Night was stolen from our people by a human warlord named Haramil. My people and Haramil’s armies clashed and warred frequently in the distant past. Haramil ended those wars decisively with a brutal assault on our city, and among the treasures he took from us was this Cradle of Night." The image shifts again to show a helmed warlord raise a dark sphere crawling with wisps of shadowy, holding it aloft. The vapors seem to coalesce and seep into him, changing his countenance, making it more cruel and menacing. "Records of how he used the artifact to bolster his warmongering in the decades that followed are much easier to find, seeing as how you uplanders are so much better at maintaining your histories." She glances at Gioret, who nods in agreement.
"In any event, the Cradle of Night was buried with Haramil. It would appear his allies were more than eager to be rid of it and move on from his brutal reign. And so there, in his tomb, the artifact has rested for a long, long time. The Reborn know what I know about the artifact. And, if they haven’t sent agents to retrieve it already, they will soon. Thus, I reached out to Gioret, asking him for strong-hearted and willing adventurers to assist me in exploring Haramil's tomb. I doubt we'll be able to destroy the Cradle of Night, but if we can bolster its defenses, or at least prevent the Reborn from claiming it, we can buy my allies in Lyrudrada the time they desperately need to defeat the cult and take back our city."
The conjured image fades away and Aiyana blinks uncertainly for a moment, as if searching for the right words to say. "I hope you’ll help me," she finally continues, "I know you’ve no investment in a city deep within the Darklands, but I’ve brought treasure to reward you in advance for your assistance. And, if you can help me save my city from the Reborn, my allies will no doubt be more than willing to reward you further! I'm sure you must have questions before committing to such a task. Gioret and I will do our best to answer them. And, perhaps with your own knowledgeable experience, you may have something to add to our discussion, as well."
Lesska shifts slightly, perhaps unnerved by the confined dark meeting place or the countenance of the pale woman. She clears her throat matter of factly.
"Milady Aiyana, forgive my ignorance - we are to accompany you into the tomb? And apart from summoning these visions, are we your bodyguards or are you...independently capable? If you will allow me, I ask only in that I make no assumptions - to better safeguard my clients, and myself."
The Kellid shares a look with her more diplomatic accomplice, a half-shrug.
Business is business. And this business is staying alive.
Lydia leans against the wall of the cellar with arms crossed as she listens and watches Aiyana's tale. She can't help but peek at the caligni's aura.
"As above, so below. It seems no matter where people dwell, tyrants exist to attempt to oppress the less fortunate. Desna teaches her followers to always be ready for challenges and unexpected friends. It is my sacred duty to aid you in recovering the Cradle of Night and liberating your people from the menace of the Reborn."
Ailis is naturally suspicious. As a dwarf, she was raised in an insular environment where she was taught that new ideas and people were dangerous. As a bounty hunter, she learned that people will lie and bargain when cornered. As a scholar, she has little interest in politics. She did not trust this "caligni". However, she also believed that no matter what, there was a kernel of truth in there. There really was likely some powerful artifact called the "Cradle of Night". If she could retrieve it, then Ailis would certainly win wide acclaim within the Society, if this Aiyana woman was to be believed regarding its power.
"If ye forgive me, Miss Aiyana," begins Ailis, "I don't trust ye too much right now."
"However, this errand really sounds like it's important. Too important't just ignore outright. It would really make me feel better if ye'd let me cast a spell on ya. It lets me learn some stuff about you. No sense being incautious, regarding the circumstances, and I promise that it's harmless."
Daehalya stays mostly quiet during the feast, not wanting to draw any additional attention to herself, and is relieved when Gioret summons them away. She pays close attention as the caligni woman speaks, becoming even more attentive as she begins using magic.
"Of course we will help," she exclaims, far less guarded than the dwarven woman she met just a short time earlier.
Her voice hardens slightly.
"I've had enough of people misusing shadow magic to last even my lifetime, and it sounds like this is just more of them. Can you tell us about this Reborn? And Lyrudada? How big is your city?"
She goes on, gaining steam as questions seem to tumble from her lips.
"And this Cradle of Night. Do you know anything more about it? The images you showed us made it seems as if it ... infected Haramil."
She turns as much to Gioret for her next questions: "Is it safe to use? To carry?"
As he listens to Aiyana's story, Bastian tightens his grip on the haft of his heavy flail, his knuckles whitening. The thought of dealing with the perilous shadow magic does not please him. Still, Aiyana's tale strikes a chord with him.
I know all too well what it means to have the peace and security of your city threatened by warmongering. I will aid you in this, but your tale of this artifact does not sit well with me. From your tale, it would seem that the Cradle of Shadow changed Haramil, twisting his soul to an even deeper darkness. And the Cradle did not prevent him from capturing the city in the first place. I understand that we must act and act swiftly, to keep it out of the hands of the Reborn. But once we capture it, we should handle it with the greatest of care and use it only if there is truly no other alternative.
He pauses, giving Aiyana and the others time to respond before asking a couple of questions of a more practical nature.
Do you know the location of the tomb and how to reach it? And what can you tell us of the Reborn cultists? Do they have any favorite weapons or magic they are likely to use against us? And will you be going with us?
"Use it?"
Ailis doesn't even have time to think. She interrupts herself, responding to what apparently will be her new compatriots. "Who's seriously considering usin' the ancient evil shadow artifact? This lady don't even know what it does."
"I wasn't thinking we would use it, so much," Daehalya responds, "as wanting more information. If others are trying to claim it, shouldn't we be prepared for the worst? If I've learned anything recently, it's that things don't always turn out as we want or hope."
"Ah, I see," she says, nodding. "I suppose when I hear someone ask, 'what happens if I use this thing?' the first thing I think is, 'That guy is gonna try and use that thing'. Carry on."
Lesska watches the back and forth with interest. Having sat through the feast with a mic of trepidation and extreme terror, this was at least, entirely diverting.
It was the same with Kovoss and Vanto at first. Testing the waters of each other's moralities, all spun through fractured lenses of assumption and overguarded fears.
"Let's live long enough to gain the artefact Ay, then we'll worry about what to do with it." the Kellid cautions, laying a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder. She leaves it there, as much a comfort to herself, as if paired with strength, as she nods to the purple-eyed elf.
"I too would wish to know if the artefact is safe. Haramil may have been a wrathful warlord before the Cradle came into his possession. Maybe it only enhances power, not the evil that misuses that power. Then again, maybe it is a malignant force in and of itself..."
Suetonius nods.
"Forewarned is forearmed. We need to assume that they will reach it before we do, and use its powers against us, before we are able to wrest it from their control."
He then frowns.
"You say that we have no reason to love your people, and that is true; but only a fool would ignore a cry for help. After all, if we don't aid you, and they consolidate their power, they could very well turn into another great force for Evil on the same scale as the Court itself... and that is something that the people of Nidal definitely do *not* need. I, for one, am certainly willing to help you."
"Milady Aiyana, forgive my ignorance - we are to accompany you into the tomb? And apart from summoning these visions, are we your bodyguards or are you...independently capable? If you will allow me, I ask only in that I make no assumptions - to better safeguard my clients, and myself."
"Yes. I'll be accompanying you to the tomb, though I don't consider you my bodyguards. I am quite capable of defending myself. After all, Gioret has trusted me on many occasions with safeguarding the lives of the Desnans seeking a route into Nidal. And, on occasion, we've had to do battle against the very shadowcasters and dreamhunters that seek them."
Lesska:
Lydia:
Ailis:
Ailis:
"If ye forgive me, Miss Aiyana...I don't trust ye too much right now....However, this errand really sounds like it's important. Too important't just ignore outright. It would really make me feel better if ye'd let me cast a spell on ya. It lets me learn some stuff about you. No sense being incautious, regarding the circumstances, and I promise that it's harmless."
"That is an interesting proposal," Aiyana replies, "I too have little reason to trust you based on direct experience. I only have Gioret's assurances that you're trustworthy and of good heart. Thus, I've taken a leap of faith that you are as he's described. And, now, you return that extended trust with a request to allow you to work your magic upon me? I wonder if you'd be as willing to extend me the same courtesy were I to ask such a thing of you upon our first meeting? Somehow, I imagine you would not welcome such an intrusion upon your privacy. From what I know of dwarves, you're an insular lot, and easily offended by such things. And yet, you are also quite direct, and much less caring of offending others with your own boldness and lack of etiquette."
With those statements, Aiyana pauses, letting your own possible offense upon her character hang unspoken in the silence between breaths. "But, as a token of goodwill," she continues, "I will grant your request this one time, good dwarf. I have nothing to hide, and I am secure in the knowledge of my forthright cause in coming here."
Ailis:
Daehalya will try to identify Ailis' spell as she casts it, curious as always.