Mum looks over at Sootscale, following his gaze to Tess. "Knowing what to do exactly to move on is difficult. But..." she remembers the first time they just watched it all, where the Bandit had said he could end her again and referred to her unlife.
But she still doens't have a firm idea, her gaze moves back to Bandit. "Tess... our piano player. What is she, do you know?"
He seems to calm himself down, ”a spirit. Older than I am. She inhabits the piano and plays for the patrons of the inn. She knows old music.”
He looks over to her and then to Mum, ”why do you ask?”
"Bringing us here changed the cycle," says Donovan. "This loop has been going on for who knows how long, and now our arrival has changed things, and Tess is connected somehow to the accelerating and changing cycle."
"Our arrival in this loop probably isn't an accident. We may have been introduced in an attempt to finally end it."
Tikroch nods as Donovan speaks. "It's true. How else would we know the things we do? Tess seems to be controlling the magic somehow. Something brought us here while investigating this same tavern in another plane. We guessing about the plane part though."
Sootscale is startled to know that the Bandit knows who or what Tess is. Was that why she was spared when the Bandit allowed all the others to be killed?
As her companions join in, Mum gets up and walks over to the piano player, listening to the music, trying to understand the feelings behind it. She looks at the woman, trying to find any detail of her form to help her understand Why. Was is vengeance, justice, or something else that made her do this.
"Tess, any help in explaining all this and what you want out of it, would be splendid right about now." the baroness looks at the piano as well, letting her detection of magic loose, and wonders about it as an anchor.
Tess looks relieved, in general, but shakes her head, as if to say “no”.
Mum gets the sense that it is magical, but the power levels are astronomical at the moment. Some ancient or powerful magic is at foot.
The Bandit nods, ”let’s just see what happens. If it’s the end for me - so be jt.”
The party waits patiently as time marches on, the piano playing softly. Tess doesn’t respond at all, but it seems a weight has been lifted, and her melodies are different. Lighter, but still sorrowful, and then with a final note - ends.
The air shimmers.
The bar shimmers.
The guards look around at themselves and begin to disassociate, and the process seems to be extremely painful because they scream loudly, until they become a pile of dust, which itself turns into nothing.
There is a loud creaking noise, as if wood is bending, so loud that it sounds like it’s coming from everywhere outside at once. Tess gestures for everyone to stand and touch the piano. With hatred in her eyes, she makes the same gesture to The Bandit, who gets up slowly and moves to the piano, resting his hands on the top.
The party does the same, waiting to see what would happen, and the air becomes stuffy as the noise grows louder, louder, and louder still, until everything is backward. Reality itself is reversed, if such a thing is possible.
*****************
Vincent is standing nearby, it’s been about 20 minutes since he last stopped investigating. There is a strong smell of ozone, and the feeling of powerful magic ripples through him - as if a conduit or something similar was closing.
He hears a breathy sigh, as if something, somewhere, is disappointed.
When he moves to the piano, he sees the four others in his group, with a dinosaur and a skinny-looking man in a long coat and a broad black hat.
The man is touching the piano lightly, and he says ”well”, before letting go.
Mum smiles, pleased with herself, though she has to admit "I think I might miss her playing." The memory of the emotion weaving through every note will hopefully never leave her.
The smiles grows warm when she sees Vincent. "Did you miss us?" for a moment she feels like ruffling his hair, one she stifles, with effort.
Turning to the Bandit, "And you, Free again, what will you do? There are kingdoms growing in the Lands, one full of pleasant nature-loving folk for are good and nice to each other all the time, and another with fold who see the land as hard as it is, but continue on anyway. Never blinking, but still living. Or there is just wandering. I hear Tian Xia is a lovely place to visit."
Tikroch nods at Mum's words. "Indeed, I'm sure there are places you can go to find some kind of meaning in this existence. Our business together here is done unless you wish for something else besides getting out of that magical prison." He waits patiently and passively for a response.
The man looks around. "Gotta get my horse, and my things, and then I'm moving on." He looks around. "Something's wrong, here." He opens his hands a little broader, "Not just here, but everywhere 'round here. These 'Lands' are rotten, miss... it's clear now."
He sniffs, "bad smell, bad feeling... bad everything." He pauses.
He taps the piano, "sorry, miss" and tips his hat towards the piano itself, before looking at everyone again and striding out of the room.
************************************
A moment after he leaves, the piano player appears again, still spectral.
She sighs, and it echoes quietly in the inn, but she smiles at Mum, "some punishment - at least, and I learned his freedom was a curse, after all. Well..." She stands up, and brushes herself off, then extends a hand, before pulling back, "apologies, that ... might not be a good idea. My name is Antessa D'Vanief, once of Oppara. I thank you all for your assistance with that matter." She curtsies. Her manner of speech, dress, and etiquette are obviously extremely outdated. "And I apologize, I could not speak - there was strange magic in that place, wherever it was. I can answer a few of your questions - at least the ones I have an answer to, but I must rest soon, so I hope you will make the questions fast."
Chrysa has questions, thousands, but the first and most important was "Are you okay now?" followed shortly by "The music... did you write it?"
She shakes her head, "some, yes. Most of it were old standards from Taldor. Though I wrote a few of those. And I am fine. Unlike that... thing, I chose this."
She looks sadly towards the bar. "I could not save them. Not that... any of what happened made sense, anyway, but I was hoping, for well, something else."
With complete sincerity, Mum says "I would have liked the same, Something else." her eyes drift toward where the man had rode off to. "But sometimes, Something different is enough." pushing that aside "Can you tell us what happened?"
She looks bemused, ”I do not know. One day I was in the inn, and I saw him come in - and he hurt my friends, and so did his minions - or whatever they were. They slaughtered everyone. I got so angry, I just…” She trails off.
”I trapped him. I do not know how. I believed in the depth of my spirit that I wanted to curse him more than anything. More than anyone. To trap him in an endless cycle. To keep him from hurting anyone else.” She sits on her bench, ”it worked of a sort, but he never remembered. So it was like torture for me - because I remember each time he killed my friend. I can still smell his weapons.. I had to watch him do it hundreds of times, he never changed, he never learned anything.”
She rests her hand on the piano, ”I suppose that if you had not come, we would do that for eternity. An unwitting prisoner and an unwilling gaoler.” She smiles bitterly, ”small comfort.”
Sootscale starts feeling his own body, then goes over and touches the vampiric boy. "Real? Vincent real!" Sootscale gives Vincent a hug. "Sootscale so happy to see Vincent!" His sudden fondness for Vincent is a stark contrast from his usual suspicion.
He says absolutely nothing to the bandit, not wanting to get shot for real. He frowns when the spirit tells her story. "Your friends. They were not saved like the bandit? They are not here? Same for the Bandit's guards. They all gone?"
"Yes, I'm real." Vincent replies, accepting the hug gingerly. "You were gone some time then." He phrases it as a statement, but it sounds like a question none-the-less.
But there is another conversation going on which seems more important, so he doesn't begrudge Sootscale ignoring him for the spirit.
Not much at least.
The dark haired woman nods in understanding, "How long ago did you trap him?"
She shakes her head, as if the memory is painful, ”we went through the cycle hundreds, and hundreds of times. I do not know. I lost track.”
Tikroch nodds to the 'young' mage as greeting but ignoring the ghostly woman, he focuses more on what the gunman said before he left. What does he mean the lands are rotten? What can he feel that we cannot? Is that related to why I was drawn to this place? So many questions...
"Better to forget the horror and remember friends in better times," the kobold suggests. "What you do now? Want new home for piano? Maybe you can help with grand plan to free town from Lord Drelev by getting giants drunk."
Donovan removes his helm once more and lets out a heavy sigh. Wryly, he says, "We just witnessed the difference between punitive incarceration and restorative justice."
"We don't always have the power to see things turn out the way that we would wish," he says to Antessa. "Are you free now?"
She nods, ”more or less. I am bound to my piano. If it were to be destroyed - I would be free, in some measure, but …” She looks outside, ”there’s still so much to see; so many people to meet. I’m not sure if I’m ready yet.”
She looks around skeptically, shimmering a bit with her translucent light, ”maybe when you have completed your tasks, you can take my piano along? Or take it back home? I would like to stay at an inn again.” She looks towards the bar, ”and … if you could give Sandyfoot and the waitresses proper burials, I would appreciate it. I think guards tossed them into shallow graves in the basement. If I didn’t bring them back, that’s where their bodies are.” She’s obviously a little upset that she couldn’t help them, but also resigned.
Tikroch nods, "We released you and your tormentor from this inadvertent prison. It's only fair we give the ones you care about the respect they deserve. I'm afraid I cannot speak for bringing your piano anywhere besides the wilderness though."
He looks to the others for a moment before heading into the basement, motioning for Luca to follow.
"Better towns than this one to be found," says Sootscale. "Like Silvermine, kobold home! Many fine Sootscale kobolds live there."
Mum listens, and nods. "We will find you a place, we promise." until then, she looks over at the two stronger members of group. The ones that are not kobolds, not children, or are short. Tikroch goes before the eyebrow can raise at him, so she turns it to Donovan. A silent question of 'would you bury the dead'?
Donovan gives Mum a nod and puts down his haversack, then pulls a shovel out of it.
Mum smiles back at the diggers, then she sits, rubbing her belly a little. "Tess, do you enjoy playing?"
She smiles at Sootscale, ”I have not met many kobolds, but if they are like you, young master - then they would be a wonderful audience.”
She inclines her head in thanks at Donovan, and responds to Mum, ”greatly. Why do you ask?”
"Do you know any... lullabies?" she asks.
Sootscale looks back and forth between Tess and Mum, and realizes that the question was not entirely random.
Vincent likewise looks back and forth and then his mouth forms into a slow smile (narrow of course, so as to not reveal his teeth).
Something has obviously happened though and right now he's not achieving anything sitting here, so the vampire slips away.
Taking the shovel up, Donovan makes a slow circuit to find a place, perhaps under the shade of a tree, where he can dig a row of graves for those who now need to be put to rest individually. It's long, tiring work, since he has to make multiple graves, but he keeps at it for hours.
While Donovan finds a place for proper graves, Tikroch and Luca take care to dig the bodies up without damaging them. Once out of the shallow graves in the basement, he brings the corpses out to bask in the sunlight before being put to their eternal rest. Once that is done, he helps Donovan dig until the task is done.
Donovan and Tikroch successfully retrieve and consecrated the bodies, to the extent possible, giving the departed something of a measure of peace, and whether by luck or providence - the patrols of giants in the area do not accost them.
Tess nods and plays a melody which is hard to place, slow and melodic, it’s somewhat out of step with contemporary music. The chord progression is simple, but it stirs memories of home in the listeners, and of peace. When she finishes, she says ”that is a very old folk melody from Taldan - predating the monarchy, when I think there were warring feudal states. It was played at the end of a winter feast, when bellies were full and the bed became particularly alluring. It was usually played on a lute or mandolin but - alas, you had to hear my interpretation.”
Chrysa listens, allowing her eyes to drift closed to savor the melody. "Your interpretation was lovely, thank you Tess."
Tess nods, ”well, I shouldn’t distract you from whatever you’re doing here - but please don’t forget about me when you’re done.” The party brings up the substantial amount of good quality ale, mead, beer, and wine that has been resting in the cool basement since the massacre. Something in the air of the place has changed, it’s become lighter - less oppressive and heavy, and the task is completed relatively quickly. They grab a cart and load it up with almost everything.
"So we have what we've come for. Drink in large quantities. Sootscale, do you have anything we need to add to them?" the woman asks the chemist.
"Ah, yes yes, very very long journey to reach inn that was right here," he notes, reorienting to their original task. And their assumed identities--the kobold looked like a gnome once more. "Tinker will begin brewing. You strong ones help move heavy things. Like those casks. Need water. Yeast. Wheat. And fire. Cheap ale, giants won't know better."
Mum stands and helps "Are you brewing more or diluting the stuff we already have?"
Sootscale nods at Mum's advice. "Good point--no make fancy ale for stupid giants."
The party sneaks the air to the makeshift camp outside the town, the wooden wheels of the cart creaking with casks. They approach the giants openly, and the largest of the bunch holds up his hand. ”Oi, you lot. That’s close enough. What’s all this then? You little people are supposed to stay in town, savvy?”
The dark haired warrior woman spreads her hands in a non threatening way, "We're not from town, we're just passing through." she offers as an explanation, like that makes them exempt from the rule.
She switched from common, to a deep guttural language that her tiny form can only barely carry off.
"From where I am from, you try and make good with the biggest, toughest lads and ladies around, so here we are. Brining gifts. We 'found' this stockpile of ale, hidden away from you lot, and decided Heck, lets liberate it and come say Hi."
She gestures to the wagon nearly spilling over in casks of ale. "So... Hi"
Drink, drink, so we can kill you all!
Sootscale / Tinker was a very bad liar, so he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets Mum do all the talking. To encourage the giants' thirst, he starts pouring a cup of ale for himself--one that would be laughably tiny for the giants. He then takes a sip. It was better than he'd expected!
Similarly, Donovan isn't a big drinker nor a big fan of giants. He waits to see how Mum's attempt at diplomacy unfolds.
Vincent has stayed away from the cart - he'd look out of place and observing from a distance is more his style anyway so he watches, waits and stifles a chuckle at Chrysa speaking giant. He's not a fluent speaker so as far as he can tell she's doing a good job but it just doesn't sound right from someone with her tiny frame.
The leader stands up slowly. It's obvious that these giants have more to them beyond what is typical for a hill giant. Clearly scarred, but well-healed, he looks to be similar in features to one of the smaller giants. he opens his hands, and responds in Taldan, "this is the first time someone from this dump has acknowledged us, and how hard we work." He gestures at the others, who seem cowed, and they approach the barrels, other than the smaller one who looks relucantly. He inclines he head, "go on, son." and the younger giant steps forward, and gingerly retrieves one of the casks, thankful. He sits down and takes a sip. The others are a little more haphazard, and the party has to move out of the way to avoid getting stomped on, though it doesn't seem like such a behavior is be deliberate or intentional.
The 'leader' folds his arms, "well. Crack one open" seeming to invite the party to drink. He smiles, and his teeth are less a broken/misshappen mess than most hill giants. Two of his crew start to fight over a choice cask of potent hard liquor, and he glances at them, and makes a noise in his throat, and they quickly quiet down. "Sorry. Go ahead. So. You work for Drelev too? "
The dark haired woman looks at the smallest giant, her face unreadable, before she forces herself to stop and look up at the leader. With a smile, she opens her pack and pulls out an old metal cup "No we don't, we're travellers, adventures, been all over the broken lands. From lost village all the way east, to the iron baroness to the north, even to the vampire's tower to the south, and now here." she dips the cup into some wine "This place has seen better days. Are you going to move on once it dries up?"
She is fishing, trying to see how committed they are to their contract.
Sootscale takes the invitation from the giants to take a drink himself! He trusted that his great experience drinking all sorts of concoctions would make it easy to handle a simple ale.
The ale is decent, but heady - the warm weather doesn’t help much with the carbonation.
The leader cracks his knuckles, and looks down. ”eh? There’s food here, and people don’t bother us, and we can do what we want, mostly. Er - yeah.” He sits down, ”this is as good as any, and boss has backing from northerners - or at least some money.” He laughs, ”so we get food and okay weapons instead of cheap s~&@.” He rests his hands on his knees, ”most mercs don’t talk to us - and the guard keep away. What’s with you?” He peers at everyone with his keen eyes - and Mum and Vincent realize that something in his demeanor is an act.