Falling under the claws of the beast, Tariq's last wish before fading out merges with some key moments in his past life...
The huecuva turns to the next one to rip and tear with its claws.
Yasmeena momentarily falters, losing her step as the creature tears into her flesh with its claws, then she resumes her dance with renewed determination.
Yasmeena hacks the huecuva into pieces with one mighty blow of her blade.
Panting, Yasmeena sheathes her sword and clutches the injury she took. That short battle took a lot out of her, and she shakes her head and tries to regain her bearings.
Seeing Tariq go down, Aithaloessa rushes to his side just in time to have to twist back to avoid the falling skeleton-thing that Yasmeena finally gives the final blow to. "I do!" she calls to Antarah's question.
Frantically, Aith hurries over the one healing spell she knows, the thread of song she uses to keep hold of the un-wizardly magic unrolling from her mouth, weaving...
... and tangling. She shakes her head as Tariq's eyes open and she gently helps him up . "I can give it another try, but that will be all of my magic for the day bar cantrips."
She’s willing to offer it, of course, but Aithaloessa looks nervously for signs of any other movements or disturbances from the fallen undead thing to the silent group of statues watching over the graves. Despite the brightness and increasing heat of the desert morning, and the reassurance the art is supposed to provide, she’s sure, she feels a sinister chill on the nape of her neck.
Yasmeena nods and gently murmurs magical words very similar to Aithaloessa's while gesturing over Tariq.
"That was very brave, Tariq," she says. "I'm glad you are still with us."
Tariq opens his eyes and frothes his head. "Uh... Is he gone?" he asks, looking around and forcing a smile when he sees the remains of the corrupted priest.
Standing back on his feet and checking his wounds, he thanks his friends while expressing his concern.
"Thank you, Aith. I'll never forget his expression of hatred when he checked my holy symbol... To corrupt a faithful minister like that, what happened here must have wielded tremendous power. Until we can purge the corruption, we should better leave this place alone."
"I agree," says Yasmeena. "Let's leave this place, though not before we undo some more of the damage his awful claws did to us."
“Back through the pesh fields to see how we can help at the monastery, then, or should Antarah and I peek into that last large building, between the battle market and – the Trade Alliance office, was it?”
“In that case, I could leave you my bow and quiver, Tariq, so that you and Yasmeena can cover us in case we stir up more trouble. But we’d have to be ready to move quickly so we don’t get in over our heads.”
"Either way, we're in no condition to ruffle harpy feathers, and I'm fairly sure Garavel would want us to do our best to do just that before he sends in his regular mercenaries."
While Yasmeena ponders if it is the best idea, Aithaloessa leaves to check out the palace. Like most battle market towns on the western border of Katapesh, the merchant princes of Kelmarane were expected to maintain a posh palace ready for instant inhabitation should a Pactmaster come calling on business. Though the time has not been kind to the palace, it remains one of the most intact structures in the village. Including the sturdy doors, that are properly locked with a high quality lock.
"That settles it," Aithaloessa nods, whispering back, "Let's run away, see what's what with the harpy tomorrow, then this place, and then maybe Garavel will commit to supporting us."
The lunatic elf mage slinks back to Tariq and Yasmeena, a most unsoldierly grin on her face. Either that, or it's an all too soldierly after-effect of the adrenaline still wearing off. She reports, "Old Pactmaster lodgings. It's locked down pretty tight. I can occasionally take a hint: let's rejoin the caravan and try again when we've caught our breath, as it were."
Not wanting to push their luck, the group retreats to the monastery. Explaining the situation all receive the needed healing from Father Zastoran. On Garavel's suggestion, they also get two healing potions to take with them. As "Further procrastination is not an option." according to Garavel.
About two hours later, shortly before noon, the group approaches the town on the side of the bridge again. The old tannery still shows no sign of the harpy from the outside.
Sneaking up to the building reveals not much more. Nothing is heard from the inside, but the bubbling of something cooking. The question is if someone would dare to take a peek inside.
While all are trying to make no noise and are checking, that no one from inside the house, or from Kelmarene notices their approach someone else comes from an unexpected direction. The harpy glides silently closer. In a low flight, from the same direction the group approached her house. Only as she does a hard stop, right behind them, someone notices her.
"Oh, you sweetheart! You finally come to visit me? Bald men are so sexy. Rawrrr!" she adreses Antarah. "I know why you're here. You want to get rid of the gnoll tribe in town. I can help you."
Aithaloessa is unconvinced by what she’s able to glean of Garavel’s strategy, but she knows what side her bread’s buttered on , and the potions help soothe her concerns about possible disasters.
That’s not to say that there aren’t enough other variables to mull over that she isn’t blindsided by the harpy’s silent approach. She whirls at the unexpected greeting, but stops just short of drawing a weapon as she watches Antarah’s consternation with some bemusement. Besides, the right choice would depend on how close the harpy is inclined to circle, compared to the peryton.
“I’ll take your word for the aesthetic delights of male alopecia,” Aithaloessa says dryly, “but Antarah’s right. We’ve seen you taking off about sunset, comfortable as you please, as far as we can tell, and that’s not even mentioning your chats with our friends in the battle market. Why would you help us? Or do the gnolls have some hold over you that keeps you close?”
"We're not necessarily spoiling for a fight, but we're here to take Kelmarane back from those scavengers, and leaving a predator in place isn't much of an improvement, you know? Begging your pardon."
Somehow, the quirk of her small smile takes a surprising amount of the sting out of her irony. Or maybe harpies take pride in eating people, so it even sounds somewhat flattering.
Yasmeena looks at the others with a hint of disbelief, wondering who has more audacity, but does her best to back up Aithaloessa. "That is not to say that we must necessarily be enemies, but there is little common ground between us upon which we can base trust. How do we know you won't attack as soon as we let our guard down?"
"I don't give a damn about those gnolls. I was here long before them and I plan to still be here, when they are long gone." Undrella tells.
"But the reason I'm willing to betray my lover Kardswann for you has a specific reason. He went down into the sealed basement of that cursed temple. And he's not the same since he came back. Something is possessing him. He has become mean and violent, and I won't take that anymore." the harpy explains.
"So, here is the deal: First you prove that you are not some wannabe fighters, who'll die in the first serious fight. Bring me the head of the giant snake that lives in the old slave market."
Second, you guarantee, that I can stay in my home when you have taken over town.
If you do that, I'll give you easy access to the Battle Market and tell you what you want to know about its insides. And I for sure won't feed in town."
“Could we make that not feeding on decent people that pass through the area generally? Otherwise, that sounds reasonable to me,” Aithaloessa says tentatively, with a glance at the others. Well, apart from the part where you took a gnoll as a lover, I guess. She tries not to think about the calculation of whether there are enough other raiders and such – gnoll or not – around to keep the harpy happy until she gets used to the idea of not eating people on the regular.
“Fact is, though, that we’re not in charge of the expedition. I can give you my guarantee that we will present your case with all respect to our leaders, and I’m sure we’ll be able to come to terms. Certainly, no matter what happens, I can give you my word that I’ll let you know what they decide in an honourable way. First, though…”
The penny drops for the first part of the conditions, and (unfortunately) before she can think that it might only encourage Undrella, Aithaloessa turns excitedly to the apparently dashing young magus. “The giant snake? Good thing you took the head off it with that one swing yesterday, Antarah! We can be right back!”
"Let's say, I'll eat no one that stays on the path." Undrella replies to Aithaloessa, but with the attention span of a squirrel she is already gone.
“She’s talking, rather than trying to charm us first and eat us, or coming at us with a spear, so that’s a start. But having someone around who can do that – the charming, not the spear bit, I mean – would be a good thing for Kelmarane while there are things like that tentacle pit out there. And more gnolls than we can count. But it’s Almah’s call,” Aithaloessa says, somewhat fastidiously. After all, as far as creatures go, Undrella’s better than a slavering, acid-spitting Wastes mutant, so.
The ‘creature’ bit, though, reminds Aithaloessa of something else, and now her eyes go wide and, too late, she scans the skies for the bird-woman.
“Dammit! Did she say Kardswann? As in axe-wielding Templar of the Five Winds? Immortalized in our monastery, elder genie, etc., etc. Whether she’s gone scatty or not, if she’s right about something possessing whoever this really is that she’s talking to, that’s alarming news, and Almah and Garavel should know before we ask them to commit all their forces.”
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Antarah's mouth hangs open as Aithaloessa remembers the genie's name. His heart is the only thing he hears for a while. He says "It's a good thing we didn't face him. But if he has become mean after being possessed, then before that he was his... kind... self? Having a harpy as a lover?"
Antarah shivers to think she commented about him sexually, while having an elder genie lover. That's not a conversation that would be pleasant., he thinks. "That changes everything", he says and continues "Our priority should be to return Kardswann to his former self. Could that magical box you carry have something to do with it, Aithaloessa? What is in the temple's basement? Maybe it was a prison for whatever is possessing him?" He looks to the horizon, oblivious to his surroundings.
"Our priority should be to return Kardswann to his former self. Could that magical box you carry have something to do with it, Aithaloessa? What is in the temple's basement? Maybe it was a prison for whatever is possessing him?" He looks to the horizon, oblivious to his surroundings.
“I guess so,” Aithaloessa says, having her own turn at looking uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what the mold has to do with it, but when I hold the gun, sometimes I … remember a detail or a fact – something – that I couldn’t possibly have remembered on my own.”
“Maybe there are more relics of the Templars around, also changed in unusual ways after the centuries? If there’s one thing living in the heart of the Spellscar teaches you, it’s that magic can get weird.”
“There are any number of ways magic could change a person could act, and we should get to the bottom of it,” she agrees, her expression becoming more serious once again. “But we will need to talk to our leaders. First, we tender a show of good faith?”
"Interesting turn of events."
Tariq thinks carefully about it and finds something odd about it. The Harpy... What is she gaining here? Does she think the group is too strong for her and want to ensure her safety? Could be... But still, it would be good to stay wary. No matter what she says, her true motivations are not clear yet.
"Yes, as my colleagues just said, we need to check with the boss. Maybe require proof that you're not some wannabe Harpy. Then we'll come back." Tariq is in no way offended by the Harpy's comment, but let her think about it,..
"Want me to charm you and gnaw on your leg a bit as proof?" Undrella replies to Tariq, with her sweetest smile.
"And of course I'm stuck with minions again, who can't decide s$$*. Go back to your superiors then." Undrella voices her disappointment and takes off into the air towards the mountains.
“That’s a nice change, don’t you think? I rather like the idea of getting anything done here without steel, lead, or setting something on fire,” Aithaloessa says cheerfully. “Let’s just put a bow on her trophy, and then we can at least take her offer to Almah.”
She hurries off to retrieve the snake’s head, grateful that the requested part is one jackals or other scavengers will be less interested in. Feeling a bit silly, but thinking she should make at least a cursory effort to cement the group’s claim to the exploit, she dashes off a friendly dedication on a scrap of parchment, signing it ‘Aithaloessa and friends’ in her loopy handwriting and attaching it from the convenient pair of fangs. Searching out a suitable place to leave the head by the harpy’s door where it will be less likely to be disturbed by any wild animals that might pass by, she takes a moment to admire her handiwork before turning to the others.
“That will have to do, for now. Let’s go talk to the powers that be before we make any promises we can’t keep, or get in over our heads and unleash some possessed monster on all Katapesh or the like.”
As everything is stuck now, the party walks back to the monastery. Some ponder if it would kave been better to have an agreement fo rpayment per distance walked.
"You're back quickly. Was it such an easy task, or did you forget somethin gimportant?" Garavel greets you.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Aithaloessa gives it her best effort. “A complication that we thought Lady Almah should know about. The harpy we’ve spotted flying about wants to negotiate: permission to stay in Kelmarane in exchange for a promise to leave new settlers in peace and information.”
She holds her palms up in anticipation of the reasonable reaction. “I know, but at least she’s willing to talk, and you did send us to gather all the intelligence we could. Worse, she says she’s fallen out with someone she claims is one of the genies remembered in this monastery, corrupted by something he found in the temple in Kelmarane that was sealed when we arrived.”
“If it’s a trap, I don’t see her angle. She could try to feed us misinformation, but that would risk detection, and, in that case, wouldn’t help her any more than letting us go in blind. Take us when we’ve been weakened after a fight? If she’s been watching, we’ve had our noses well bloodied a couple of times in the past few days, and she didn’t act then.”
The guardswoman inclines her head respectfully. “We have some countermeasures available depending on our preparations and spell reserves, and we have numbers on our side. Otherwise, apart from the harpy’s den, we’ve got a magically sealed temple crypt that defied our finesse and brute force both, the battle market itself, and the old Pactmasters’ lodgings – which would be a likely place for an old, and likely powerful genie (or someone impersonating one) to lurk - for places we haven’t explored yet.”
“Give us the word, and we could do our best to break into the Pactmaster quarters and/or drive the harpy away post haste, but that means throwing away whatever she might know, and we thought that wasn’t our choice to make. For what it’s worth, if we do negotiate, I’m willing to keep an eye on her as long as we’re around to help the resettlement.”
She waits demurely for the leaders of the expedition to make the call.
"I'd prefer you not to break into the palace. At least not with force. If it is properly locked, and has no other signs of breaking and entering, then hopefully everything is still in order inside."
"As for the basement of the temple - that is also for later to care about. Princess Almah has the key, but we don't want to deal with that, as long as other enemies are around. The next steps should be to secure the battle market."
"As for the harpy... that sounds like a worthy ally for now and an unknown risk for later. I'll leave that choice to you, if you want to make that deal and take the responsibility for her actions." Garavel decides.
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Antarah follows the whole conversation and is somewhat surprised by what Garavel tells them. If the group was getting power to negotiate, they were surely getting some prestige with the leaders of the caravan.
Once they are back together, discussing, Antarah says "Maybe it is not so unreasonable to negotiate with the harpy. Maybe things like these are the concessions my father talked about when he tried teaching me trading." Apparently being startled made him extra wary, but now he is more open to ideas.
“I can’t help but think she’s getting the better end of the bargain,” Aithaloessa sighs. “Then again, I don’t suppose there are many people wandering the desert off the established caravan routes, so with people in town and on the road safe, it might be all right. And in the long term maybe she can be persuaded not to eat people.”
“Still, unless there are grave objections, it feels harsh not to offer so much as a chance – though vigilance is the watchword, of course.”
Knowing that the money's getting restless, the apparently soft-hearted elf faces the necessity of returning to the breach. “Back to make or break the deal, and – unless this Kardswann has holed up in the Pactmaster palace – a bit of breaking and entering? Er, I mean, making sure the town can be secured against brigandry.”
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Reluctantly, Antarah acquiesces to Aithaloessa's point. He feels his lack of experience impeding him from thinking strategically. Asking for advice is not something he means to do, but he watches the elf closely, hoping to understand how to act next. "Let us try to find that harpy again. We can use the help. Keeping an eye on her will keep us sharp.", he says bluntly, as an attempt to display resolve.
"I agree on mostly everything, including having an eye on the harpy when all of this ends." Even so, Tariq feels they don't have all the info. "Let's go back to her and see what she knows."
So for the third time today the group walks towards Kelmarane. For sure it will be the last trip for today.
Arriving at the door of the old tannery, you notice that the snake head is gone. Inside it is still bubbling, as can be heard from outside, but besides that, no harpy in sight.
Luckily there is also no one else in sight.
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Antarah comments "I wonder if the harpy's offer was a one time only deal. Anyway, hopefully we won't need her." He sounds more confident than he feels. He also says "Maybe we should investigate the temple basement further. If we are facing a possessed elder genie, we should gather as much information about it as we can. Garavel said the princess has the key to that room, but she didn't choose to share any information about it with us."
If agreed, Antarah moves to the temple and starts looking for anything that might indicate what the sealed door is, without getting too close to it. He looks for hidden compartments as well.
"Hi sweety. Wanna add some personal touch to the deal." Undrella suggests as she adresses Antarah again, as she lands on the edge of the roof of her house.
"Now tell me, what did the big bosses tell you. Are you allowed to make a deal, or are you here to kill that nasty monster that I am."
“We’ve been given full negotiating powers, yes,” Aithaloessa jumps in to help poor Antarah out before he gets made uncomfortable again. She tries to think of a polite way of getting on with it (oh dear) that will least tempt innuendo. ‘Let’s keep it professional?’ ‘… on the up and up?’ After a moment, she settles on, “Let’s keep things on the level:”
“As we discussed earlier, we’ve brought you your head, and, if you don’t feed in town or on travellers on the path to, show us an easy way into the battle market, and tell us what you know, you’re invited to stay as long as you please, undisturbed by the new settlers to follow. I, Aithaloessa Cyana, pledge to this on behalf of the Lady Almah.”
“As long as we’re around, please give me a shout first if anyone gives you any trouble. I’d like for everyone who ends up settling here to live in peace together,” she says, her idealism showing as she extends a hand for an arm-grasp to seal the deal.
“Welcome to Kelmarane,” she says wryly, her tone indicating that she’s all too aware of who the newcomers are here.
Yasmeena smiles stiffly and plays a short fanfare-like chord on her oud. Her manner is that of someone who is making the best of what she thinks is a bad situation.
"Well, in that case." Undrella hops down to the floor. "Come in."
Half a dozen cauldrons previously employed by Kelmarane’s tanner are bubbling in here. Undrella treats this place as her personal alchemy workshop, mixing together foul unguents composed of loose body parts, narcotic oils, blood, and less savory substances.
Undrella stirs a few of those cauldrons and fishes out two keys. "This one opens the northern door of the battle market. And this one the cells tract. That's to the left if you enter the southern door. If you haven't pissed someone off who lived to tell the tale, you can enter through the southern door too. It's not locked."
"If you're feeling lucky, you can enter the stage and issue a challenge for a fight."
"If you want to be more strategic, there are also some more people in there, that probably would rather stay around even if Kardswann has to go."
“Thank you,” Aithaloessa nods, accepting the keys as she looks about at the cauldrons, curious despite herself and the appalling reek. She never made it – probably mercifully – to Oenopion to glean any useful alchemical lore that might be a byproduct of the fleshforges there, but she imagines the effect must be something like this, only much worse.
She brings her attention back to the matter at hand, showing her Calistrian streak. “I hate to call up painful memories, but could you tell us anything about Kardswann? We’ll teach him a lesson one way or another, but the more we know, the more apt we can make the process.” And possibly free him from whatever influence has got him in its grips.
“Oh, and before we leave you in peace until we’ve dealt with him, do you have an idea about who or what’s holed up in the Pactmasters’ quarters just south of the market?”