Once he determines the strange mold on Aith's arm responds to some kind of magical "thing" and he can't do anything about it, Tariq has few things to do other than trying to restore the altar to a respectable status. Not that he's thinking about giving mass or anything, but being good with the Dawnflower won't harm anyone.
While Aithaloessa's alchemical work is well underway, she realizes, that her she only made it abundandly clear to her companions, that she'd claim the lab.
Father Zastoran begs to differ on that one. He directs the mercenaries who carry his large potion chest down into the lab. And right after they put it down at the wall he starts unpacking, like he owns the place.
"I see you too are dabbling with potions. But the way you do looks very different from what I do. Are you a herbalist?"
Aithaloessa gives a bit of a start when Zastoran arrives to make himself comfortable in the lab, but it only takes her a second to catch up. It makes sense, since he is a cleric of Nethys. She can be professional about this: there’s plenty of room, after all. Part of her wonders, mischievously, if she could tempt Antarah to join them, so that all the mages can cabal-ize underground.
“More or less incidentally,” she answers Zastoran’s question, peering dubiously into one of the other vessels she still has to clean while her bit of mushroom is macerating. She explains, “Mostly by way of the overlaps with alchemy in general, since it’s useful to be able to grind one’s own powder, among other things. But my mother grew up overseas-“
She gestures rather distractedly to the north to suggest all the way to Kyonin. “-and so I’ve always been curious about things that aren’t as common in Alkenstar, and the parts of the city I grew up in … well, gardens tended not to do well, let’s say. On the other hand, if you’re willing to brave the Wastes, you’d be surprised how much Nethys’ dagger can be found for the taking. Though then again, there’s a very good reason for that…”
She resolves to keep an eye out while she’s in the area, even though the north of Katapesh is environmentally less exciting than her homeland. Both she and the cleric could find a use for the plant named after his god, she knows.
"I've heard of these places - the mana wastes. But they never sounded appealing. More like a place where even magic prefers anarchy over defined workings."
"You liked it there?" Zastoran inquires.
Aithaloessa tilts her head curiously, as if feeling surprising weight to the question. It’s only been a comparatively short time that she’s had anything to compare the Wastes to. “I don’t think so, to be honest. Maybe it would have been different if I lived Skyside, away from the mills and the factories … but then that’s the problem, isn’t? You could literally trace a line on the ground - the river helps - or, probably, with the right tools, see where the leys have been snapped. Makes every division even starker.”
“Which makes the anarchy perversely more appealing,” she confesses, frowning as she works that thread of thought out. She pinks just ever so slightly as she adds, “There’s inspiring work being done on mitigating the worst effects.”
She carefully steers herself to less personal ground, “And seeing a mana storm roll through, from the cliffs, is something else, if only for the colours, sometimes. Beats even a desert sunset. Granted, it’s easier to say that from the safety of a dead magic zone – or, after leaving, while one’s only just beginning to work with cantrips.”
She can only imagine what the wars that shaped her homeland must have looked like, to have cut it into a scar on the world’s magic. For all her enthusiasm, it’s a sobering thought.
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On the surface, Antarah realizes that he can try to make more people interested in the art in the cloister. He talks to Garavel about it, making sure he says the name of one of the epic genies, Pazhvann in particular, when they walk close to the princess's new quarters. Maybe the princess knows something about this, he thinks.
"I hadn't a visit there on my list of things to do, and your description sure hasn't put it on. I'd like to talk recipies of potions with you sometime when we're settled in. One can never know too much about magic." Father Zastoran kind of ends the conversation as he turns his full concentration of setting up the room.
As Antarah catches Garavel on a walk through the cloister he listens a while to the explanations about the art and the history it portrays. "That's a lot of knowledge you already collected here. Keep it up and see if anything of it will help us in our mission to reclaim Kelmarane."
"Are gnalls superstitions?" he ponders. With his lack of emotions showing, it's hard to tell what Garavel thinks beyond the words he says.
Hadrah and Hadrod move into the kitchen. They clean it out and start a fire in the hearth. Only a few minutes later it starts smelling really nice all over the cloister as they put the first ingredients into a large frying pan.
Dashki moves through the cloister and checks on the different rooms that are available.
Seeing that everyone is looking for a room, Tariq curiously asks "Are there rings enough for everyone? Will we need to share one? I tend to snore a bit, I'm warning you..."
Leaving Zastoran to it, Aithaloessa spends the rest of the day between her alchemy and – with a tremor of barely repressed excitement – her newly energized magical researches, toying with additional notes and how she might extend what she’s learned so far.
Once the herbal (fungal, really) extract she’s working on can safely be left to its own devices, she can even be dragged away to other tasks until it’s time to retire for the evening. She’s used to roughing it from the occasional patrol beyond the city walls of her home, so she’s not as concerned about the arrangements as one might otherwise expect.
Yasmeena bows her head and says, "I don't mind sharing a room with my friends. We've seen enough troubles together that I can have no complaints about such petty concerns as snoring!" She laughs. "Perhaps we should set up together in the dormitory?"
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Antarah says "After what we've been through here, I don't think we'll have trouble sleeping. Also, in the dormitory, we'll be close to the princess in case she needs anything." The large man seems much more servile after learning that they'll start the scouting of Kelmarane the following day.
With regard to Aithaloessa, he says "Let me check something. I wonder if the mold grows in my arm if I hold that artifact as well." He also casts Detect Magic as the mold grows, both as he holds it, as well as when she holds it."
Aithaloessa nods at both suggestions, with a glance towards the stairwell down to the laboratory. The dorm is close, but not too much, and brighter and airier. The alchemical apparatus isn’t going anywhere on its own, while the memory of being gooped is certainly unpleasant enough that the budding arcanist doesn’t fancy the idea of laying down a bedroll beside the retorts and alembics. Slinging her gear onto a free bunk, she says, “Sounds like a plan.”
She unholsters the strange pepperbox at her hip carefully, hesitating just a bit before handing it over to Antarah, as the weird mold starts creeping up her hand the moment she touches the weapon, until the scurf covers her forearm once she takes the gold-chased treasure firmly in hand. Fuzzy growth aside, it feels incredibly right there. Quietly, but noticeably, she frets, “It’s got an incredible aura, so much that I can’t tell more than that it’s definitely magical.”
Her hands hover scant inches below Antarah’s own as she lets go of and he examines the weapon, ready to catch it if it slips out of his hands. Aura strength aside, it’s still an oddly twitchy response for something that’s mostly solid metal and has survived in its hiding-place for who knows how long.
On Antarah it has no effect on his hand and arm. Aithaloessa has a hard time watching how he checks the weapon. Looks like he never heard of gun safety. That he doesn't look into the barrel is all. Who knows whom he'd shoot if the thing would go off accidentally.
What Antarah notices though, is that the weapon loses all magic, when not handled by Aithaloessa.
Tariq agrees on the dorms being the most adequate room for them, then he prays to the Dawnflower for a miracle to happen - that Antarah doesn't kill anyone with an accidental shot. It seems his pleads are listened, but he wishes the good man doesn't ever holds a firearm again.
Aithaloessa gladly stores the elaborate pistol where it will be safe. She stretches, primly somehow, before announcing, “I think I’ll retire for the evening, shortly. Especially since I doubt we’ll be singing for our supper tomorrow.”
She supposes Garavel will expect at least a bit of exploration to Kelmarane proper, if not a show of force, sooner rather than later.
Dashki moves into the shrine to Vardishal.
The mercenaries start cursing, as they notice that all good rooms are gone. They move into the chapter house, and start clearing the stinking garbage.
Finally everyone goes to sleep, but those that have guard duty. Which are the mercenaries and Princess Almah's guards.
In the middle of the night, everyone is alarmed at an unbelievably loud howl that comes from the direction Kelmarene lies. After about a minute it stops. Then a faint howl from further away is heard for about the same duration.
It is not as dark as Antarah thought it would be. The sky over Katapesh is mostly clear. With the stars and the sickle of the moon one can watch surpisingly far and at least recognize silhouettes of the landscapre.
Kelmarene on the other hand, is an interesting view. With quite some windows lit and a few fires in the streets it's an romantic scenery. The flames coloring the buildings with living orange.
Tariq goes to sleep after spending his healing spells on whoever needs them. He closes his eyes while reading a page or two of the sacred book he found, and enjoys a deep slumber to the point of not even noticing any howl. Had the monastery fallen down during the night, he would probably come up from the debris in the morning asking Aith if it was her doing.
Rushing out with the others once she blinks sleep from her eyes, Aithaloessa tries to gauge the distance to the howling along with the direction. It depends on how loud it is to start with, and so on what could make it, but in any case…
“Sounds like a pretty big dog,” she says in quiet understatement, gazing towards the occupied trading post. She does a quick count of the fires she can see, though reins in most of the urge to speculate: not every lit room needs to be constantly occupied, after all, especially if one wants to make an impression.
Once everything seems to settle down, Aithaloessa shrugs lightly, walks once around the monastery (just in case) and lets the darkness soothe her jangled nerves again before getting the rest of her sleep.
Yasmeena goes to the temple at dusk, and offers a prayer to Sarenrae. She begs the goddess to ensure that her friend is safe. She drifts off at some point, but wakes to the sound of the howl. Shaken, she picks herself up and returns to the dormitory to sleep the rest of the night.
Next morning Garavel visits the group early. "Good morning. You're ready to make a first scouting trip to Kelmarene?"
"We have some information about the town. Like that a gnoll tribe named the Kullid Tribe has it under control. But we need more precise information. Numbers, defenses, generally what to expect."
"But be careful. If you get cought in town, I must assume, you'd nbe in over your head."
Aithaloessa wakes early, unsure what (she even has) to report that wouldn’t be too dramatic. She waits for Garavel’s briefing, and Antarah’s suggestion provides the perfect opportunity to work it into the conversation.
“Maybe, but we’d have to think what they might want, and how we could get back to report without looking suspicious,” she muses, taking a moment to consider what she noticed of the lay of the land over the past couple of days. She adds, “They’ve definitely got a good lookout. I think I even saw what sent up that howl last night: not well enough to identify it, but there was something on the roof of the biggest building I could see. Concealing our own comings and goings will likely be difficult.”
She squares her shoulders even more determinedly. “We could at least start with the boring bit: fan out, get just close enough to see what’s what and watch for how many gnolls are about, their movement patterns…”
Tariq listens to the ideas. "Well, I'm not too good with any of the versions of the plan which includes stealth, con or anything similar." Sadly, his years drilling and praying didn't offer proficiency in such things. "I'll try to follow you along with what you decide, though."
Yasmeena grimaces. "Gnolls don't really trade with humans, at least the tribe I grew up with didn't. They thought that every creature that wasn't them was either meat or slaves."
She is quiet for a moment, as if unwilling to scratch that particular scab. Then she sighs. "We could probably pretend to be slaves if we must go inside the city. I believe I remember enough to lead us in such a ruse. But if we want to avoid conflict, I think it would be better for us to show strength. They would hesitate to attack an obviously armed party, I would think."
"No walking into town." Garavel objects. "It would save me to have to pay you, but that's not the goal here."
"Food delivery." Dashki chuckles as he walks by.
Yasmeena nods obediently. "In that case, there's not much we can do besides walk up and see what we can see. If we stay out of shortbow range, we might get a good idea of how many there are without getting punctured too terribly."
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Antarah, attempting to seem knowledgeable, says the obvious thing "We could try to approach by the pesh field, the river or the mountain." Only then, does he actually contribute saying "The river will probably have more gnolls. I would suggest us approaching from the mountain-side. I believe we have less chance of attracting gnoll attention too soon. It's not usually a side one would put lookouts on duty."
"No walking into town." Garavel objects. "It would save me to have to pay you, but that's not the goal here."
“Right,” Aithaloessa says dryly, concealing her relief. Her experience with gnolls has mainly been confined to the mutants that roam the Wastes, and at a merciful distance, but evidently even normal gnolls aren’t much more sane.
After the pugwampi debacle, her quiver is feeling light, so she makes a mental note to track down some more arrows before the group heads out.
Antarah, attempting to seem knowledgeable, says the obvious thing "We could try to approach by the pesh field, the river or the mountain." Only then, does he actually contribute saying "The river will probably have more gnolls. I would suggest us approaching from the mountain-side. I believe we have less chance of attracting gnoll attention too soon. It's not usually a side one would put lookouts on duty."
Considering the available routes, she opines, “The mountains would be a bit of a nuisance, but if we can gain higher ground, that would be welcome. And while I’m not planning on setting any more fires anytime soon, if anyone else does, a pesh field would not be my choice of source for a smokescreen.”
After a good hour you approach Kelmarane from the south and come up at an earth rampart. With some shrubs growing on it, here and there it would be possible to hide up there while watching.
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Antarah walks low, as if he is about to be hit with an arrow anytime soon. He says "As long as we're out of town, we should be safe. They have short legs and we run faster than them. We should get to high ground, as Aithaloessa said. Now I could climb one of the city buildings and help everyone come up as well. From one of the buildings we can observe with little chance of being seen."
After the quick march, Aithaloessa is happy to feel the reassuring weight of a newly refilled quiver at her back, and she keeps her bow firmly in hand. The mysterious pistol she found dances maddeningly on the edge of her thoughts, but she knows its effective range is much shorter, and its report a blatant announcement of her presence.
After a first few minutes of study, she raises quizzical eyebrows at Antarah’s suggestion. Granted she grew up in a city-state rather narrowly bounded by geography, but there doesn’t seem to be much town in Kelmarane to stay out of, and as to the speed of gnolls … her eyes flicker to the resident expert on the nature of the beasts, and she asks Yasmeena, “What do you think?”
She shakes her head just ever so slightly. “Let’s wait and see, first. We’re here to gather intelligence, and Garavel seems to think that unsupported we’d be in over our heads.”
Looking down the slope, the expression gives the guardswoman an idea as she considers the lay of the land. “Or, I could provide support at range. If we do go prowling much closer – which, for the record, seems reckless – hugging the ruins along the river might be an idea. If we get spotted and things get hairy, falling back across the bridge might buy us some time. Do we know how deep the river is?"
For now, she heads to a convenient bunch of shrubbery that will provide a bit of cover.
The town isn't exactly dead, but no one is walking around outside right now. Every now and then and you hear the hyena like laughter coming from the largest building.
Yasmeena pauses to listen carefully.
Shrugging, she says "I have no objection to trying to get closer. I think Antarah may be on the right track by suggesting we climb higher. From there we should be able to see signs of the gnolls, and determine whether it is safe to remain there to observe them."
As the minutes crawl tensely by, and the town stays quiet, Aithaloessa breathes out a sigh in her covert.
“If we’re going to do this, let’s do it as safely as possible,” she concedes, before pointing out landmarks along her proposed route. “Take a look from that first mostly intact building, then back out from cover to cover and another look from the buildings across the river? Or – though I’m not much of a climber – just straight across the roofs of that whole line of buildings? If they’re level enough, it might give us another few seconds if we’re spotted, compared to street level.”
“Lead the way. I’ll follow and provide covering fire if needed.”