If they hadn't already completely decimated the Ulfen slavers, Awenasa's anger would have driven her to destroy them all over again. How could any human treat another human like these slaves had been treated? She felt absolutely no remorse about not leaving any of them alive.
She finds some comfort in the fact that these men and women were being offered a place if they had no where to go. Something about Matoska's face when he addresses them catches her attention and she tries to puzzle out whether it has any deeper meaning.
But she isn't given much time to think on it before he's suddenly towering over her and celebrating their victory.
His last words catch Awenasa off-guard. If more time had passed since she had left the Plateau then maybe his words would have held more sway. If she had become accustomed to the lowlands or if she didn't still carry her quah so close to her heart, she may have seriously considered his offer. But Awenasa was still very much a Shoanti of the Plateau and her quah needed her to succeed regardless of whether they believed she had abandoned them.
Even though her Common had gotten much better, Awenasa would always prefer to speak the language of her people and so when Matoska speaks Shoanti she does as well. "It has been an honour to fight with your quah and to see He-With-Fire-Inside in battle. There is no doubt that we fight well together. But my quah needs me. I cannot turn my back on my quah. I cannot stray from my path to find a way to save my people. If we had met under different circumstances, I would have stayed...but I need to get to the Mordant Spire. That is my path."
Switching back to Common for the sake of the Screamers she adds, "Matoska, mighty Protector, you led your quah to victory. You send powerful message to Riddleport today - you save weak from abuse. I must return to my own quah someday so I can't stay but I take stories of your power with me. Many will know your name."
Still Shoanti the larger man nods carefully, "I knew you would say that, Awenasa Windkeeper. You hold to your oaths, as a good warrior must. I should have known better then to tempt you, but I have lived among the lowlanders too long. You honor both of us by refusing."
When she switches to Common, there is a general cheer at her words. Fame, glory and a promise of family. Awenasa had learned quickly what it took to motivate these strange lowlander thugs. Perhaps these city-dwelling people were not so unknowable as she thought. Could they, in fact, be people? As complex and deep as her own? Maybe.
"Our name." Matoska rumbles, "You may not be one of us, but today you were our fist of victory. They will learn your name and your face." With this last he turns back to the former slaves and raises his voice. "You! You have been given your freedom this night. This woman, this Shoanti of the highlands, has done her part. Look at her face and remember it!" Dozens of face turn to Awenasa and, to her discomfort, she sees tears in many of the faces. Tears of joy, of relief, and she has a feeling many of these people will celebrate her face till their dying days. It was a heavy thought to carry.
Matoska raises a fist in a victory salute, elicited another cheer. Then he turns back to Awenasa and speaks at a normal volume. "I will not keep you, Awenasa. Destiny and duty call you onward and no warrior should try to stop both. You have been a fresh breath of air from our homeland and I will not forget it. You have made me remember much. You have my thanks." He thrusts out his forearm, "I will send Riallo with you to the docks. You can leave tonight, if you wish."
Relief is evident on Awenasa's face with Matoska's response. Relief that he understood and wasn't offended at her refusal, and relief that he was releasing her to continue on her path towards the Mordant Spire. Yes, there was awkwardness when the attention of the crowd focused on her but overall she was grateful for how things had worked out.
Eager to be on her way, Awenasa grasps Matoska's forearm in an iron grip. In that simple act, mutual respect was translated through their skin. I am honoured to have met you, Matoska, leader of the Screamer Quah. You have shown much resilience in thriving and remembering our ways away from the Plateau. When I return home, my quah will tell stories of how you aided them in their time of need by helping me."
She nods and immediately scans the crowd for Riallo, Perey, and Thak. "The sooner we leave, the sooner I can return home. Again, you have my thanks."
A final shake and then Awenasa is gone, leaving behind that reminder of home. For some reason she doubted she would be running into any more Shoanti warriors on her journey.
Riallo looks a little disappointed to be missing out on post victory celebrations but shrugs. "Then, let's get going." Perey is silent, face downcast slightly, avoiding the faces of the slaves. Thak makes a face however and says, "Don't you people ever sleep? It must be after midnight. Can't we do this in the morning? After a nice breakfast?"
Seeing Awenasa's face however, the dark-skinned man rolls his eyes. "Very well. Let's go. Maybe the dwarves will have beds. Or baths? They seemed clean at any rate."
The streets of Riddleport are very quiet around them, that in-between time of 'very late' and 'very early'. The only sounds seem to be their boots on the dirty cobbled stones, and the creak of ships at anchor. Riallo leads them along the dockside, paralleling the ocean. The water is still and dark, although less romantically, also topped with garbage. Old clothes, broken bits of wood, rotting seaweed create a noxious layer of floating debris.
In the silence Perey says, "I wonder what happened to Skimp...She left when you were in the meeting with Matoska. I was going to mention it but we got very busy. She would have liked the feast. She could have used a few meals."
They travel along the quays for quite awhile until Awenasa sees a ship that [i]must[/]i belong to the Iglishmek. While the other ships here are dark brown with grease, slime and rust, this one is a blinding painted white. It shimmers like a ghost in the dim starlight, a halo reflection in the water. A fairly large ship (at least by the others Awenasa has seen), it has two masts and seemingly miles of ropes. Awenasa slowly realizes she has no idea how ships work. What would it be like?
"Well, I think you can find it from here." Riallo says pointing at the dim white outline ahead. "Good luck with that. Not sure they are the best friends to have. Strange people, dwarves. At least those ones." The Screamers turns to Awenasa, "It's been a wild day from when we met in Gewn's tavern." he holds out a hand to shake, 'Maybe you've taught us all something."
Celebrating the victory never occurred to Awenasa and so she misses Riallo's disappointment. Her singular focus of getting to the Mordant Spire causes her to practically glare at Thak as he suggests they wait until the next day. "We can sleep when we are dead."
The Shoanti decides that this is how she likes Riddleport the best, quiet and almost empty. It was almost tolerable...almost.
Awenasa feels a stab of guilt as Perey mentions Skimp. She had forgotten all about the young girl. Not that she thought the girl would want to come with them and leave Riddleport but she wants Skimp to be taken care of. Moving to Riallo's side, she says, "The young girl that was with us, can you find and see if she wants to join Matoska's quah?"
The white ship keeps drawing Awenasa's attention as they approach on the docks. She nods at Riallo, "Thank you. Not looking for friends so should be good." She takes his offered hand in recognition of having fought by his side earlier, "Now you know more of true Shoanti. Remind Matoska so he remembers." She pauses, "And try to work with community, like Gewn."
With that Awenasa turns and strides towards the bright white ship.
A final handshake and Awenasa is already moving. For the first time in awhile she feels slightly more confident. So far her plans had mostly stopped at the ocean's edge with no idea how to get past it. What did she know about ships and sailing? But now, this white ship was her ticket forward to the Mordant Spire and, hopefully, Eivind the Heavy Hand. Progress!
Thak and Perey followed behind, doing their best to keep up with the Shoanti who, despite her various injuries, was in no mood to dawdle.
Despite the hour she finds a dwarf at the end of the gangplank, clearly a watchmen. Awenasa, who comes from a culture that took self-protection seriously, approves. Granted, a single dwarf warming his hands over a small oil-lamp isn't exactly the most imposing figure, but it is something.
The small man looks up at Awenasa as she strides out of the dark. He stands up in sudden panic, eyes widening as he spots Thak and Perey joining her. Before she can say anything, the dwarf pulls out a small handbell and starts ringing it wildly.
The harsh clanging, very distinct in the damp night air, quickly draws a whole crowd of dwarves to the railing. There is much shouting and calling, the ringing of bells and lighting of torches. In moments Awenasa is confronted with what must be the entire crew of one hundred and two dwarves, most armed to the teeth.
A cry went up when they got a good look at Awenasa.
"Screamer, screamer!" A few aimed at crossbows at her and Awenasa was ready to retreat when one dwarf's rough voice went above the din.
"That's not a Screamer. She is ours!" A dwarf slammed his fist on the ship rail. "Stop, stop! She is ours! That is Awenasa!" It took awhile for his words to be heard but, slowly, the various weapons were lowered. Instead of shouting the dwarves began whispering amongst each other.
Finally, after much whispering, a dwarf shouts, "A vote to allow her to speak?" More whispering, then shouting in various tones of disagreement and agreement. Some are holding up books and papers, while others are refusing to listen.
"Curious." Thak says in her ear. "Some kind of direct democracy? An egalitarian collective decide by majority rules?" Awenasa has no idea what those words mean but she also has the feelings these dwarves will not stop arguing any time soon.
When the watch-dwarf raises the alarm, Awenasa growls in frustration. The dwarves in the tavern said that everyone would be told that she would be coming...that everyone would know. This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. If she had been given some sort of word or phrase to say then the dwarves would not have gotten so riled.
She grits her teeth. How could she explain herself if they had to vote to even let her speak? Her patience was waning along with her hope that this would go smoothly.
However, the Shoanti couldn't be closer to actually getting to the Mordant Spire and Eivind so she is painfully self-conscious. She doesn't want to do anything to give the Iglishmek a reason to refuse her. Even though it takes all her will to not shout at them that they are wasting time, Awenasa stays quiet and waits for them to do what they needed to do. Not that her body language remains quiet as she shifts her weight impatiently while glaring at the collective.
Awenasa's new-found patience is stretched to the limit, quite quickly as she is kept waiting. Their were motions to vote, voting, points of order, sub-committees and debates about quorums (whatever that meant). As Awenasa's anger slowly builds, the dwarves seem to be having the times of their lives arguing, debating and generally being ineffective.
Finally however, finally, a group of dwarves is apparently empowered to speak with her. A trio of the small bearded men come down onto the rickety old dock to meet her. None are armed (itself the result of a long and tedious debate about whether this would be threatening or prudent).
They stand in front of Awenasa for a long moment until one says, in a pompous, formal voice."Awenasa Windkeeper of the Shoanti. It has been noted that you entered into a compact with several Iglishmek members, pursuant to formalizing a peaceful relationship with the Screamers. We should note that said agreement has [b]not been ratified by the Land-Based Commerce and Relations Panel, let alone a General Assembly or the Executive Board. Thus, it is considered non-binding for the purposes of this meeting and all further meetings."[/b] He pauses to take a breath. Awenasa has no idea what this means but Thak leans and whispers in her ear.
"They are trying to get out of it."
A storm was brewing. If one stood in the vast expanse of the Plateau, they could see the storm rolling in. It would get quiet momentarily as all the animals and insects took cover from the inclement weather, almost too quiet, but then the wind would begin to howl. If the dwarves had ever been to the Plateau they would have known what was happening within Awenasa and maybe would have thought twice.
Anger burned in Awenasa's eyes and her body vibrated with pent up, suppressed outrage. Through gritted teeth she practically spits, "You ask for peace. I bring peace. Now you do not want peace?". Lowlanders were so annoying and frustrating!
Her voice begins to rise in volume just like a storm begins to build. "If you go back on word, I will return to Matoska and make sure that he knows you cannot be trusted. If you thought he was problem before, wait until both of us return together to destroy everything. There are Ulfen slavers to testify to this, if any are still alive. I have arranged peace with the Screamers but one word from me and you will never rest again. I am not an enemy you want." Her fists began to open and clench like her body yearned to punch something or someone. The Shoanti is practically yelling now,
There is a sudden shuffle of feet as one hundred and two dwarves suddenly take a startled step (or more then one) back. The ones in the negotiating party are particularly effected with one nearly toppling backward into the dirty harbor.
There is a moment of very loud silence while the Iglishmek mentally handle a shouting, threatening Shoanti warrior. Clearly it is something their
(rather numerous) protocols and procedures have not prepared them for. Finally, after several stuttering attempts one of the negotiating partners clears his throat and says,
"We do desire peace." He coughs and goes on, "There is no need to talk of enemies or violence. We were only stating the facts clearly and forthrightly in case of disputes or arbitration later." Still, his legalistic voice wavers a bit looking Awenasa's face.
"Do you provide any evidence of your claims of success?" Another cough, "Surely that is needed before we enter into issues of clearances of debt and payment of favors owed?" A fussy little sniff, "We will not be bullied!"
Awenasa's eyes narrow as she glares at the dwarf she thinks she recognizes from the tavern, although who could tell since they all looked the same to her.
"I gave my word I wouldn't return unless there was peace," she growls. "You don't know Shoanti at all if you ask for proof."
She takes a menacing step forward, her anger barely contained, "But you want proof? Let's go speak with Matoska. He will be angry that we interrupt their celebration and you doubt his word but you will have proof. Maybe he will burn beards or remove fingers, but you will have proof."
"Gather as many as you need to trust someone's word since you do not trust my word or those of my companions, and let us go. I do not want to waste anymore time."
A shudder goes through the assembled crowd of sea-going dwarves when Awenasa starts mentioning removing fingers and especially burning beards. As they all, once again, scuttle back at her voice Awenasa recalls how she must appear to the lowlanders.
A towering human woman, covered in blood, dust and sweat, obviously angry to the point of rage and clearly quite capable of following such threats out. Not only that, the entire legend of the Shoanti hangs behind her like a billowing clouds of violence and terror. Frankly, it is surprising they are speaking at all and not running (or sailing) away at top speed.
After this latest wave of sheer dread crests, one of the dwarves says, "Well, we will need to vote on-"
"Shut up Jarrot!" One of others in the little discussion committee hisses, voice low. Awenasa cannot be sure, but she thinks it is one of the dwarves that talked with her in the tavern. The one with the knife. The dwarf goes on, "She'll kill us all if you push her. Does she seem in the mood for further debate? She's right, anyway. Shoanti don't lie anymore then they can fly. More, that man she came with."
He points a stubby finger at the distant shape of Riallo, watching with apparent interest from the dockside. Awenasa wonders what the Screamer makes of this. Probably unsurprised, knowing the Iglishmek better then her.
"He is a Screamer. Do you think they would have come and shaken hands if we didn't have peace. Get off it! Take her word for it!" Absently he tugs at his beard, as if to make sure it is still safe and whole.
Jarrot, the first dwarf frowns and shakes his head, "We at least need to pass a motion to-"
The other dwarf though turns to the crowd and shouts, "I call for a General Assembly vote in the matter of Awenasa Windkeeper." Silence falls on these words and many of the other dwarves look scandalized but no one shouts back. He takes a deep breath, glances at Awenasa's bloody fists and says, "All in favor of providing this human woman with safe passage to her destination in accordance with our pervious deal?"
No one moves. Awenasa is about to start knocking heads together when a few dwarves start raising their hands. It is like a slow snowball int he mountains. First a solitary few out of the crowd, then small groups, then wide swaths of hands rasied. Awenasa cannot count them but it seems, yes, more then half-
"Passed!" The dwarf says with a relieved smile and turns to Awenasa, "Consider yourself repaid. " There is a long moment of silence as every ear strains to hear what Awenasa will do or say. Wills he shout some more? Burn a few beards anyway?
Finally...reason! The words are spoken that Awenasa had been needing to hear. And just like that, the threat of a storm passes. The menacing clouds break and the wind dies down.
The tension eases from Awenasa's muscles and there is a collective sigh of relief, some audible, from the dwarves as they see this happen before their eyes. She is still an imposing figure but her presence no longer seems supernaturally massive. The Shoanti gives a small nod in acknowledgment, "Good, it settled. When do we leave?"
"Depends on the reports and reviews of the Steering, Preparation and Stowage Committees." One of the dwarves says automatically but then glances at Awenasa's face and coughs, "But tonight, surely."
Tonight! She would be headed toward the Mordant Spire tonight!
"After a bath, surely." the dwarf adds and turns toward the Collective. "Hygiene Cabinet? A bath please." A full dozen dwarves look up at this call, look at Awenasa and then bustle below.
Thak nods, "Hygiene Cabinet? I like it already." Awenasa is not sure what to make of this.
In a few moments however the 'Cabinet' is back, carrying an assortment of items. A heavy brass washtub, a collection of towels, a basket full of soap and one dwarf holding a searing white block of steel in tongs, as if he had just pulled it out of a forge. Before Awenasa has time to wonder, they have a small bath station set up.
Seawater is bucketed out of the harbor (strained of garbage and scum) and poured into the tub. The glowing chunk of steel is placed inside, cleverly placed on a seemingly purposeful built ledge inside. Soon Awenasa can see light coils of steam rising from the water, which is also scented with soap. Foaming clouds cover the surface.
One of the Hygiene Cabient looks Awenasa and her friends over and says, "You first, the woman. Strip down and scrub." Loudly he places a hunk of porous rock on the rim of the tub. "Use this, it'll get you clean."
"If anything can." he adds under his breath.
Thak grins, "I like these people Awenasa."
Awenasa is still contemplating the information that they would most likely be leaving tonight when there is a spurt of activity as the Hygiene Cabinet springs into action.
The Shoanti is unfamiliar with both of the words used. She had thought she heard one of the Clan call some sort of box a 'cabinet' and so her mind is still trying to figure out what it is when they return with items to wash the blood and grime off herself.
She watches with veiled curiosity as the bath is set up. On the Plateau, it was sometimes difficult to collect this much water for washing and it would never be hot enough to steam. Since it was deep enough to sit in, Awenasa figures she was supposed to get into the water, like a small lake.
When told to strip, Awenasa shrugs and begins to disrobe. With her clothes shed, she steps into the tub and sinks into the water. She picks up the porous rock and looks at it skeptically. How was a rock supposed to clean you?
She unbraids her hair to get it as clean as she could as well. She wastes no time getting the evidence of battle washed off her skin. She found the warmth of the water quite pleasant and it seemed to clean better than colder water. Or maybe it was just because one was more willing to sit longer in warm water than cold and so spent more time washing.
She nods at Thak's comment, "So long they take us to Mordant Spire, I like them too."
"Do we all get baths?" Thak asks the apparent head of the Hygiene Cabinet, obvious desire in his accented voice. "it's been quite awhile-"
"Yes," The dwarf says not taking his eyes off Awenasa's apparently unsatisfactory bathing technique. "I said scrub! Use that rock! Scrub harder!"
Awenasa tries it and finds, to her surprise, the lumpy rock gently abrades the outer layer of skin off without any pain but very thoroughly. Soon the water is a dark brown mixture and her skin is much paler, scrubbed clean.
"Out!" The head bathing dwarf barks, "Next!"
Awenasa is escorted out of the tub and handed a towel. While she is re-dressing, the tub is emptied, re-filled and Perey is escorted forward (much to Thak's annoyance). Meanwhile Awenasa watches the activity on ship. It is hard to see in the dark but it is like watching a busy anthill. Dwarves running everywhere, heaving ropes, moving barrels, turning levers. The sounds of dwarves shouting, of canvas snapping or gears turning fills the air. Awenasa doesn't know anything about ships, but surely this is a good sign?
Perey is fully scrubbed and washed, and follwoed by Thak. Here, finally, is a bather to make the Hygiene Cabinet proud. Not only does the little man scrub with enough vigor to make Awenasa wince, but he also washes out his hair. And he soaks. And soaks. And soaks. Long enough for his reddish skin to wrinkle like an old fruit.
As he finally exits he says to the dwarf, "How do you keep the water so hot the whole time?"
The dwarf smiles and taps the tub, "That metal bar is enchanted. It never gets cold. They use hotter ones for forges back home but we find this is a good use for a slightly cooler bar. I am glad you enjoyed it." The dwarf turns to the rest of the Cabinet and says, "All in favor of judging them clean and fit?" All the dwarves raised their hands and, without further ado tromped back up on the boat.
Awenasa and her friends are alone for a few minutes wondering what to do next when another cavalcade clambers down the gangplank toward them. Behind them the busy work of, presumably, getting the ship ready whirrs on.
The new group pauses in front of Awenasa for a moment and then one dwarf says, "We do not often carry passengers so we lacked the proper system for it." She frowns, beard twisting in the night breeze at the apparent horror of unplanned procedures. Then she brightens, "So we have created a new panel, comprising members from the Cargo Committee, the Negotiation Panel and Interior Layout Council. It will be the Passenger Affairs Circle. They will directly liaison with you and the other bodies to ensure all sides are fairly and equitably treated."
Awenasa has no idea what this means but the dwarf adds, "Shall we go ashore? We have some quarters for you. You can settle in as we cast off. We understand it has been a rather long day for you."
Awenasa digs her extra clothes out of her bag and puts them on. She's a little surprised by how much better she feels now that she's clean but it also reminded her of some wounds that needed to be tended to. She got out some cloth strips to tie around a couple of the worst wounds so she wouldn't get blood on her clothes. Although that would probably happen in due time anyways.
She hadn't realized how long her hair is getting until it was unbound. She quickly goes to work re-braiding her black hair so that it would be contained should the wind pick up.
She did appreciate the efficiency in which the dwarves worked once they made a decision. It took them forever to decide to act but once that decision was made they carried out their work in a way that was admirable.
Finally the dwarves with the bath leave them alone and Awenasa has a chance to actually relax and she realizes that she is actually quite tired. Not just physically tired but also mentally tired. So much had happened that day.
She thinks that she will be able to rest at last when more dwarves stream towards her. She is immediately on alert and can't help but think, What fresh new hell is this?" when their spokesdwarf addresses her. As usual, the words make no sense to the Shoanti and so she tries to figure out their purpose based on her culture. "You guard us while we on ship? You want us to go with you?"
The dwarf gives Awenasa a confused look. "Guards? No, of course not. You are not prisoners. You will have full range of the ship....well, I assume you will." The seadwarf glances back at her comrades and mutters, "Add that to the agenda. Range and allowances of comrades while at sea, regarding safety and navigation concerns."
Turning back to Awenasa, "We just want to show to where you will be sleeping and staying during the voyage. " A pause, "I do assume you sleep?"
"I most definitely sleep." Thak interjects and Perey gives a small smile but seems to regressing to his inward emotions.
"Then follow us." With that the Passenger Affairs Circle leads Awenasa onto an ocean-going ship for the first time in her life. The first thing she notices is....everything is moving. Even here at harbor, still tied tot he dock, the entire ship is swaying in the tide. It isn't much but for someone trained to never lose her balance, it was disconcerting when the ground didn't remain still. Indeed, perhaps her training makes it worse, for she almost trips.
The matter is made worse by the fact that the ship deck is strewn with a menageries of items. Coils of ropes, crates and boxes, fishing nets, along with piles of tools and materials. At the far end near the back of the boat, there are wooden barriers of some kind from which Awenasa's quick ears hear sleepy lows of cows and sheep. Above is a rat's nest of lines, ropes and sails that vanish into murky blackness. Dozens of dwarves are up there, tightening the ropes for some nautical purpose.
Awenasa doesn't have time to do more then glance about however, before she is led down a dark hole in the deck. There are no stairs, just a steep wooden ladder that her guides travel with ease. Awenasa manages and soon finds herself in a cramped space under. She has to nearly bend double to avoid the ribbing rafters overhead. The place smells of tar, old water and, oddly, spicy incense.
The dwarf ignores her discomfiture and points to a thing wooden door ahead. "Usually this is for more delicate storage but it will serve as your quarters for the trip." Then open the door, revealing.....not much.
Three strange canvas bags have been hung from wall to wall, above three heavy sea chests. A small mirror graces one of the walls and a folding bench/ledge completes the décor.
'I have been instructed by the Battle Planning Commission and the Warfighting Control Board to inform you that, in the end of 'action', your room may be cleared to make room for assembly of troops or storage of loot. " A pause and then, "According to the Navigation Committee, we will be making headway within the hour. Anything else you need?"
If finding Eivind the Heavy Hand wasn't the best chance of saving her quah and if going to the Mordant Spire wasn't the only way to find Eivind, Awenasa would have turned around and left after her first experience on the ship. But she did need to find him and traveling by ship was the only way to get to the Mordant Spire. It is torturous but she has no choice, she is trapped by her word and her honour on this hideous ship where nothing ever stopped moving.
Her natural grace is gone and she clumsily follows her guide as she is shown to her quarters. Nearly banging her head for a third time does nothing to improve her mood. Maybe things would look better once she had slept. She doubts it but there is always a chance.
Again, Awenasa only manages to understand a handful of the words said. These dwarves seem to use twice as many words then necessary which the Shoanti finds confounding. Since all she wants to do at the moment is sleep, she nods at the dwarf. "Do I sleep on floor? I have blanket." Even though she hadn't been expecting her own room, it looks too small to set up her small tent.
"Sleep on the floor.." The head dwarf of the Passenger Affairs Circle says in confusion, but it is gone in an instant. "Oh, right. The hammocks."
Bustling past Awenasa, and easily fitting in the small space, the dwarf pulls one of the strange bags taut, attaching it to a metal hook embedded in the wooden wall. Outstretched the dwarf clambers into it with ease, swinging on it. Seeing her face the dwarf smiles, "It will work, I promise. Everyone the Collective sleep on hammocks, and human sailors do as well. Not only is it comfortable but it'll rock you to sleep when we are sailing. Just wait and see."
The dwarfs shuffle back out into the wooden hallway. "I am sure you wish to sleep. I would suggest remaining here until morning, as a ship at night can be dangerous for the untrained. Keep an ear out, the ship's bell will keep time." A pause, "Good night and may Torag forge you peaceful dreams." With that they are gone, closing the flimsy door.
Inside, Perey, Awenasa and Thak are alone although they can hear much clumping of feet above, the muffled shouts of sailors and the clatter of chains somewhere below them. Water is sloshing somewhere and everywhere is the creak of sodden wood.
Thak pokes the hammock doubtfully, looking unhappy for the first time. "I'd have preferred an actual bed. I've slept in these before, and I've always hated it."
Perey meanwhile just shrugs and clambers into one, quickly becoming entangled in the canvas contraption. Still, he doesn't fall out.
Meanwhile Thak looks around and goes on, "Well, it beats walking at least. Cleaner too." He looks over to Awenasa. "The Mordant Spire awaits. I wonder what we will find? Nothing quite like starting a new leg on a journey. Let's hope we have smooth sailing. I'd hate to be in a hammock if a storm hits."
A storm? The sea has storms? Awenasa's mind tries to conjure up what being on a boat during a storm would be like and recoils in horror.
Best not to think about it.
Awenasa looks at the contraption the dwarf called a hammock with some distrust but says nothing further as the head of the Passenger Affairs Circle bids them goodnight.
Finally alone, Thak's comments about the hammock doesn't help to put Awenasa's mind at ease. "Why you hate hammock?"
The Shoanti wants nothing more than to sleep. However, thoughts of the Mordant Spire and now storms give her pause. Even though she is relieved to finally be on the way to the Mordant Spire, what happens if Eivind isn't there? Her one and only clue of where to find him was the Mordant Spire. If he wasn't there, what was she going to do? She couldn't go home without finding him and if she couldn't find him...she didn't want to think about not being able to go home again.
Thoughts of failure was bad enough for Awenasa. The thought of a storm, with the wind blowing, and being on something that was always moving even when there wasn't wind causes her stomach to lurch. What could one even do to take cover? Seems to Awenasa that they would just be at the mercy of the storm. She sent a silent plea to the spirits for their protection. Surely they wanted her to find Eivind to save their quah and so they would protect her just as they had guided her.
Finally, her body's need for sleep over rules the thoughts marching through her mind. She fights briefly with the hammock until she gets herself settled and finds that it is more comfortable than sleeping on the ground, but again it is constantly moving as the ship constantly moves. This time it works in her favour along with sheer exhaustion and within minutes, Awenasa is asleep.
The next week was....something of an experience for Awenasa and her friends.
Sometimes it was just strange. The Iglishmek were unlike any people Awenasa had ever encountered before. They had no leaders as far as she could tell and were not governed by the usual mix of custom, tradition, common sense and force she was used to. Instead they managed affairs by complex and every-changing webs of councils, panels and committees, each ruled by elaborate voting procedures. The idea seemed to be to allow everyone to have a say and express an opinion. This was followed from the most routine matters (there was a vote held every morning on scrubbing the deck) to the serious (one evening Awenasa watched the serious deliberations debating the use for flogging on a sailor). The Shoanti never quite understood how it worked, but it seemed to work.
Even just the ship itself was strange to her. It was complicated beyond belief with every rope, every board, every fitting the only thing between life and a watery grave. It was always being repaired, improved, adjusted. Unlike something on land, that you build and then enjoyed, a ship seemed closer to a living thing, always changing. Every slight change in the weather created a bewildering series of new orders that sent squads of dwarves into the sails to do....something important. One thing should could say, there were no lazy sailors. Everyone seemed busy all the time.
Other times the trip was wonderous. Her first sunset at sea had taken Awenasa's breath away. She had seen clear glories of sun and sky in her homeland, when the land had light with blazing fire and glittered like jewels but the sea....the sea was something else. The sky had turned a thousand different shades, shimmering pinks, swirling purples, indigo blues and burnished orange. The ocean itself was a glistening mirror, reflecting the wonder above and yet imparting it's own shifting beauty. As the burning, flaming sun had slowly sunk below the distant horizon it left her speechless and was a sight she would surely carry to the end of her days.
And again, sometimes it was just boring. It was a week or more at sea from Riddleport to the Spire (at least that si whatt he dwarves said) and much of it was uneventful. Just sitting on ship, watching the waves and wind roll past. Unlike land traveling the scenery did not change. There were no trees to look at, or mountains to mark your passage. Just endless unchanging seascapes, at least so it seemed to her. She wondered how the Iglishmek knew which way to go, and was told they used the stars. This made her feel better since her own people used the heavens at times, when other signs were unknown or hidden.
The passage was unusual in another way. It was one of the first times in Awenasa's life that she had nothing to do. No duties, chores or tasks. She could, and did, spend hours at the rail just thinking about things. Her journey so far and what she had learned, the people she had met. Or the things still to come, and her hopes and fears for what the Mordant Spire might hold. Sometimes Perey stood silently with her, but most times not. Her small friend was usually among the Iglishmek , learning their songs and stories (of which there were many). Thak spent most of his time sleeping but otherwise also spoke with the crew, learning what he could of their strange ways. The Vudran seemed fascinated by the voting systems and even, on one long night, managed to become a voting member in one of the endless committees. It passed the time, she supposed.
A strange waiting period, between past and present, poised between adventures behind and trials before. A time of rest and recuperation, a space to reflect and prepare.
So it is with mixed emotions when she hears a cry go up all over the ship.
"Land ho!" Awenasa rushes to the deck, still slowed by the rolling and pitching of the vessel. Breathless she reaches the deck, shades her eyes against the morning sun and sees- nothing. Just the usual sky and sea.
Sensing her confusion a dwarf near her pauses in his labor and chuckles, "You can't see it yet." Magic is Awenasa's first thought but the dwarf goes on, "They can see it up from the crow's nest. Higher up, gives them a better view." The sailor points up to the swaying basket at the very top of the highest mast, where two dwarves stood, pointing and shouting.
"Just wait, it'll show." The sailor says to Awenasa and moves away.
Impatiently but with no other course possible, Awenasa follows his advice and waits. She strains her eyes ahead, trying to punch through the endless miles of shimmering sea. Spray misted her tanned skin, and the sun grew hot on her neck but she ignored it all, staring....
Then, slowly, a dark shape appeared ahead of them. Vague at first, as ill-defined as a distant cloud or pillar of smoke. Black against the pale blue sky. Still, it grew more and more solid as time passed and Awenasa stayed glued to the rail.
Slowly (much to slowly) it resolved in a tall pillar of black stone reaching into the sky. Yet it was not straight and smooth like an column or even the standing mesas of Awenasa's home. Instead it is coiled and uneven, organize and strange. Either a child's toy or perhaps a growing thing. As they drift closer, Awenasa can see vast openings in the stone and ledges. Windows and balconies?
Minutes crawl past, turning to hours.
Slowly Awenasa realizes the Mordant Spire is not big. It is massive. The strange, twisting pillar rises hundreds, no, thousands of feet into the salt-stained air, a literal mountain. What she took for windows and balconies are instead vast cave-like entrances and entire terraced courtyards. The base is a vast rocky bulge, only a few hundred yards wide of rubble-strewn beach. Awenasa can see no openings here at the base, but she is still far out. A normal sized door would still be totally invisible. Indeed, a giant city gate would be lost among the immensity.
One of the dwarves comes up to her, and glances at the huge Mordant Spire, now towering like some kind of giant fungus growth ahead.
"Well, what do you think? Impressive, isn't it?"
Awenasa can’t remember the last time she had so much free time on her hands. She always had had something to do since the Ulfen constantly harried her people but there wasn’t anything for her to do on the ship. Even though she offers to do some of the work, the dwarves seem to all have their jobs and no one feels compelled to show her what to do. So when she isn’t on deck at the railing lost in her thoughts, she finds a corner of the ship to do her exercises she learned during her training.
Just when she feels like maybe the Iglishmek had misread the stars and that they were lost, there is a cry of land being spotted. The waiting between the declaration and her being able to see it with her own eyes is torturous to Awenasa. When stalking prey, the Shoanti had all the patience in the world. However, being this close to her destination and not being able to do anything makes her feel unsettled and anxious to get there.
Awenasa thought she would never use the word majestic to describe anything but the Plateau, she was wrong. As the Mordant Spire slowly comes into view, the only word that comes to her mind is majestic. The structure seems completely impossible which makes it all the more impressive. It appears part natural and part fabricated. Whichever the case, the Shoanti has never seen anything like it and finds that she just stands quietly in awe at the railing.
A voice sounds at her side, bringing her out of her own thoughts. Awenasa nods slowly, her eyes never straying from the structure before her. ”Very impressive.” In that moment, it made perfect sense that Eivind the Heavy Hand had made his way here. Surely such an impressive warrior needed an impressive residence. She is both antsy and apprehensive about setting foot on the Mordant Spire. Would she actually find Eivind and if she did, would she be able to convince him to save her people from his own?
As the Spire looms ever closer, the dwarves pack on deck. Some are obviously just there to gaze up at the wondrous strangeness of the organic looking tower, but most are needed to guide the ship.
Around them the sea changes from a deep sapphire blue to a lighter shade. Perhaps it was shallower? To Awenasa's surprise she can also smell something on the wind, mixing with the salt and spray that has filled her nose for days. An earthy, clingy smell....land. She had been away so long she was smelling land for the first time. Was this how sailors were all the time?
Worse though were that the waves seemed to grow worse as they approached. The small chop grew into actual white caps as the ship swept up and down, like a sled on a never ending hillside. Awenasa's stomach churned, lurched and did flip-flops as they slowly meandered toward the spire of rock.
Thak joined her, riding the swells with much more ease. Still he stopped a passing dwarf and said, "Is this some kind of magic? The elves keeping us away?"
The dwarf blinks and then laughs, "The elves? trust me friend, if the elves wanted us away, the waves would be higher then the mast. Trust me, I've seen it." Higher then the mast? Awenasa looks up at the fluttering flags forty feet above them and swallows.
Doing her best to will her stomach to peace, she focuses on the island ahead. Slowly a rocky beach comes into view, a water-level skirt around the strange mass of unnatural stone. It is jumbled with lumps of coral, rock and driftwood cast in random piles. Awenasa sees no houses or even fishing shacks which surprises her. Lowlanders seem to crowd near the sea when they can. Did the elves live inside the Spire?
As they begin the final approach she finally sees what the Iglishmek must be aiming for. A single solitary stone sticking out into the ocean, like a fallen tower or perhaps an admonitory finger. Waves crash on it, sheeting the smooth surface with foam-churned water. It looks dark and uninviting but compared to the boulder strewn beach, it's the closest thing to a dock.
Awenasa also notes something else strange about the island. A haze seems to surround it, like mist or light smoke. Sniffing the air, mixed with the smell of land, was a sulphurous reek. It was a smell Awenasa knew from her homeland. Hot springs.
Slowly the Collective creeps up on the wayward stone, careful to avoid the many reefs and rocks in the rapidly shallowing sea. Lines are trimmed, sails adjusted and finally oars swept out to slowly guide her. The ship is still pitching Awenasa can't imagine how they will approach the dock without smashing to splinters. Will the Iglishmek make her swim? Or worse, give her a small boat?
Perey joins them and, judging by his green skin, thinks the same.
Then, just as Awenasa is about to voice her concern, the sea becomes prenaturally still. The wind dies instantly and the ship is left rocking in water as still as a bath-tub. Without effort they glide right up to the water-washed rock, tossing out an anchor. The Mordant Spire is a short hop over the rail away. After so many miles, so many weeks, so many adventures....She was here!
"All ashore that's going ashore!" One of the dwarves bawls at Awenasa and her friends. Then he gives her a strange look and says, "Can I ask why, though? Why would you come here?"
As the Spire looms ever closer, the dwarves pack on deck. Some are obviously just there to gaze up at the wondrous strangeness of the organic looking tower, but most are needed to guide the ship.
Around them the sea changes from a deep sapphire blue to a lighter shade. Perhaps it was shallower? To Awenasa's surprise she can also smell something on the wind, mixing with the salt and spray that has filled her nose for days. An earthy, clingy smell....land. She had been away so long she was smelling land for the first time. Was this how sailors were all the time?
Worse though were that the waves seemed to grow worse as they approached. The small chop grew into actual white caps as the ship swept up and down, like a sled on a never ending hillside. Awenasa's stomach churned, lurched and did flip-flops as they slowly meandered toward the spire of rock.
Thak joined her, riding the swells with much more ease. Still he stopped a passing dwarf and said, "Is this some kind of magic? The elves keeping us away?"
The dwarf blinks and then laughs, "The elves? trust me friend, if the elves wanted us away, the waves would be higher then the mast. Trust me, I've seen it." Higher then the mast? Awenasa looks up at the fluttering flags forty feet above them and swallows.
Doing her best to will her stomach to peace, she focuses on the island ahead. Slowly a rocky beach comes into view, a water-level skirt around the strange mass of unnatural stone. It is jumbled with lumps of coral, rock and driftwood cast in random piles. Awenasa sees no houses or even fishing shacks which surprises her. Lowlanders seem to crowd near the sea when they can. Did the elves live inside the Spire?
As they begin the final approach she finally sees what the Iglishmek must be aiming for. A single solitary stone sticking out into the ocean, like a fallen tower or perhaps an admonitory finger. Waves crash on it, sheeting the smooth surface with foam-churned water. It looks dark and uninviting but compared to the boulder strewn beach, it's the closest thing to a dock.
Awenasa also notes something else strange about the island. A haze seems to surround it, like mist or light smoke. Sniffing the air, mixed with the smell of land, was a sulphurous reek. It was a smell Awenasa knew from her homeland. Hot springs.
Slowly the Collective creeps up on the wayward stone, careful to avoid the many reefs and rocks in the rapidly shallowing sea. Lines are trimmed, sails adjusted and finally oars swept out to slowly guide her. The ship is still pitching Awenasa can't imagine how they will approach the dock without smashing to splinters. Will the Iglishmek make her swim? Or worse, give her a small boat?
Perey joins them and, judging by his green skin, thinks the same.
Then, just as Awenasa is about to voice her concern, the sea becomes prenaturally still. The wind dies instantly and the ship is left rocking in water as still as a bath-tub. Without effort they glide right up to the water-washed rock, tossing out an anchor. The Mordant Spire is a short hop over the rail away. After so many miles, so many weeks, so many adventures....She was here!
"All ashore that's going ashore!" One of the dwarves bawls at Awenasa and her friends. Then he gives her a strange look and says, "Can I ask why, though? Why would you come here?"
Elves? Awenasa's mind begins to race. She knew that elves were associated with the Mordant Spire but she hadn't really thought about what that meant. And now there is talk about them being able to control the waves? Should she be concerned about these elves? As she looks at how high the mast is she can't help but conclude that they must wield some sort of magic because it wouldn't be possible otherwise. Magic always complicated things.
Shock and disbelief along with joy flash across the Shoanti's face. She had been sure that they were going to be dashed against the rock-like dock and now everything was calm. How is this even possible? It is obviously beyond her ability to comprehend, hence the shock and disbelief. Then it begins to sink in and joy replaces the disbelief. She had finally made it to the Mordant Spire.
The Shoanti waits excitedly at the rail to get ashore, now that she knows she doesn't have to swim in choppy water. She looks at the dwarf who has addressed her with some surprise, assuming that most of the ship had known why they had sailed to the Mordant Spire. "I am looking for Eivind the Heavy Hand and this is where I was told I could find him. The fate of my people depends on me finding him so I must be going." With that, she launches herself off the ship to go ashore.
Her singular focus of getting to the Mordant Spire has kept her from considering how she would be able to leave again, would the dwarves wait for her? Doubtful. Her excitement also keeps her from checking whether Perey and Thak are joining her ashore. All that consumes her thoughts at the moment is, where does she begin to find such a legend as Eivind on this island?
The dwarf gives her a strange look, "But they'll never let you-" But his concerns, whatever they are, are lost as Awenasa jumps overboard. She lands on the sea-splashed rock with ease, boots kicking up spray in the puddle. She was here! The Mordant Spire! The strange land was under her boots. Surely her goal was close now. Was today the day she would meet Eivind the Heavy hand?
Behind her, Thak and Perey clamber down the side of the boat, not so eagerly or gracefully as Awenasa. Perhaps the deserted shore and towering spire overhead does not breed excitement. Not that Awenasa cared. She was here on duty, not to sight-see.
She looks up the strange flat stone and sees, to her delight, a small path. It isn't much, just smaller stones among the larger tumbled boulders but it is plainly a way feet have passed before. The way forward. She takes a moment to glance at her two friends who shrug and follow.
Awenasa has just taken the first step on the gravelly path when she hears a noise behind her. Shouts and wooden thunks. She turns and sees the Collective pushing off! Already oars were splashing into the water, pushing the ship away from the stone. Before Awenasa could have jumped back aboard, the boat was drifting out to sea, sails snapping in the breeze.
Quite clearly they were being left here.
Perey watches them go in silence but Thak shades his eyes and watches the ship slowly beat back out to open sea.
"Well, I suppose we never asked for a return trip."
Awenasa's haste causes her to leave before finding out what possible warning the dwarf's words may have held.
She motions at Perey and Thak to join her. The quicker they started exploring, the faster they'd find what they were looking for. She can't help but notice that they aren't as thrilled as she is to finally be here. But then again, they were still here with her and that mattered. She points at the path and takes a step forwards but gives pause as there is a flurry of activity behind her. She turns to see the Iglishmek leaving, not that she is overly surprised.
"You speak truth, Thak. But it not matter. We find Eivind and we leave the way he came here."
She addresses Perey, somewhat concerned by how quiet he is, "The spirits guided us this far and they will continue to guide us to save our quah."
The Shoanti turns back towards the path. "This seems to be the way."
The others gives her a look and Thak says reasonably, "Well, we have no idea hoe he got here. For all we know, he hired a ship as well. Maybe we will all be trapped here for a time. The Iglishmek did make it seem that the Spire was not a popular destination for sea-going vessels."
Perey shrugs and tightens his cloak around his shoulders, as if cold. he almost look ill, pale and worn. Maybe sea travel had not agreed with him either?
Turning back to the path, Awenasa starts up it, eager as a hunter on a scent. The faint trail winds and wends among the tumbled boulders but the Shoanti doesn't mind. Following a solid trail makes her feel good, makes her quest feel real for the first time in months. She would follow this trail to the end of the earth, if needed.
Her eye, conditioned by years in a rocky empty landscape quickly note the landscape is not as monochrome as appeared from the ship. It is not all the same soft gray, washed by sea and wind. In fact there are bands of color weaving through many of the rocks, and much of the gravel at her feet is of muted blues, reds and dusty whites. Much of it seems soft and crunches under her boots, revealing a sponge-like shape. Oddly, it reminds her of the rocks the dwarves used to bathe. The smell of sulphur grows stronger in her nostrils, rank and harsh. The air seems slightly warmer then it should, with only a cloud shrouded sun overhead and the stiff breeze off the blustery sea.
Awenasa is still contemplating this when she rounds a huge, smooth boulder and is faced directly with the base of the Spire. The huge organic shape blocks out the sky, a looming pearly spike. Far larger then the most massive manmade tower, it stretches out in both directions with a terrible solidity, somehow more real then mountains. The Spire rock is not the hard, dead shape Awenasa is used to. If it even was rock.
Molded and swirling, it is as if some great growing thing had been turned to stone suddenly, without warning. No, more like stone that had been given life for a short time, to struggle and strive for the sun, until returned to its usual quiet state. It was unsettling somehow, unnatural and Awenasa felt it could return to life at any moment.
The faint trail leads directly to the rounded wall and ends in strangely shaped door. Not just any door. A smooth white shape, set right into the oddly formed stone. There were no hinges or handle, just a blank patch of enameled white.
"It's a tooth!" Thak suddenly exclaims, eyeing the door carefully.
Looking closely, Awenasa can see it too. A slight discoloration at the root, the hint of razor sharp serrations, the pearly smoothness.
"What sort of shark..." Thak trails off. Awenasa did not know what a shark was, but she knew what he meant. The door, the tooth, was taller then Awenasa was, probably eight feet. What sort of monster had such a maw? And how did one go about taking its teeth?
For a moment they all stare at it in silence. There are no guards, no shacks, no other sign of artificial construction at all. Just a silent door.
Awenasa can no longer ignore Perey's appearance. She was hoping that if there was something wrong that he would have said something but now it's obvious that he isn't. Turning concerned eyes his way she asks bluntly, "Are you okay, Perey? You look more than just sad, you look like you're hurting. Is there anything I can do?"
The path gives her something to focus on that she can readily deal with. Follow the path and find Eivind. Seems simple enough to her. She finds the terrain very different from home and something new to deal with. The different type of rocks are something to get used to since they make a lot of noise underfoot; however, the colours are quite pretty.
She stops short when she comes face-to-face with a door. She finds it very peculiar and somewhat fascinating, even more so when Thak reveals that its a tooth. The size of the creature alone that the tooth came from sends a small shiver down Awenasa's spine. She had never encountered anything that enormous before and she hopes she won't have to anytime soon.
The Shoanti ran her hand over the tooth, almost reverently. "I wonder if Eivind fought monster and use tooth as door?" As far as Awenasa is concerned, that is the only thing that makes sense.
But annoyance begins to build as she realizes that there isn't a way to open the door. "Why even put door here? No one is going to wander onto the island without being seen...how we open door?" She begins to run her fingers along the seam of the door looking for any purchase to pull on.
Perey shakes his head, "I don't like this place. There is something...off about it." But her fellow Shoanti doesn't say anything more, just stares up at the leaning Spire that blocks out half the sky.
Awenasa turns her attention to the strange door. She has a hard time imaging why someone would make a door with no obvious way to open it. If you didn't want people to come in, just build a wall. Awenasa could understand that, at least.
She ran her hand over the smooth pearly surface trying to find its secrets. To her surprise, the Shoanti found it was slightly warm, as if someone had just been breathing on it. Awenasa tried to find an edge but it was cunningly recessed behind a rim of rock, moving it entirely beyond reach. Unsure, she continued the whole way around the huge tooth, even the top and bottom but she found nothing.
Not only did she fail to find a handle or secret recess, but not a crack, ledge or crevice of any kind.
With no other options Awenasa knocked on it, her fist hammering the tooth. It seemed to make barely any noise and the door didn't shake or rattle even a fraction. It was like banging on a boulder.
Nothing happened. Things were silent except for the cry of soaring seagulls, high above. The door remained unmoved, stern and forbidding. Perey shivered but Thak shrugged.
"They do not seem to want visitors, Awenasa."
Awenasa tries to feel past the physical to see if she could sense what Perey is feeling. She can't feel anything out of the ordinary but doesn't discount what he's feeling. "Can you describe what feels off? Make sure you let me know if it gets worse."
The door is maddening as it isn't like any other door the Shoanti has encountered before. What is worse is that no one even bother to answer it when she knocks.
She considers just destroying the door. After all, how strong was a tooth? But Awenasa also recognizes that people didn't respond well to having their property damaged.
She turns to the others, "I have one thing I can try. If it doesn't work then I don't see any other option than to try to break through."
Awenasa stands with her eyes closed for a few moments, breathing deep. She concentrates on every fibre of her being and then she begins to empty herself of form until she disappears into the ether. She moves towards the door, hoping that there is some space to travel through that she wasn't able to detect with her human eye.
Perey doesn't add anything but he does nod. Awenasa realizes the little bard could just be ill or feeling the effects of leaving the ship of course, but she'd rather not ignore such signs of danger in an unfamiliar environment. Such complacency was the bane of victory.
The others watch as Awenasa concentrates and slowly vanishes out view, sliding into the space between this Plane and the next. The world becomes distorted and oddly colorless, the landscape becoming a slightly fuzzy watercolor of gray and white. When Thak speaks, his voice is audiable but slightly muddled, as if she was hearing him through a thick wall of fluffy cotton.
"I wonder where she goes, exactly." The reddish tinged man says, staring at the spot where Awenasa now hung, floating. "Or is she in the same place, just with different metaphysical properties?"
Awenasa cannot answer for she moves toward the tooth door. When she reaches it, the Shoanti simply pushes through it, as if the immobile door was a fogbank or cloud of mist. Her hands phase right through the polished surface, and she fills a thrill of triumph. Finally, she had-
Her ethereal hands stopped, blocked by some unknown, unseen force. Some kind of solid wall that stops even this form! What? Awenasa pushes harder, using her shoulder as if she was trying to physically open the door. Nothing. An impassable, inflexible barrier hidden deep in the tooth.
A quick check soon confirms the blockage is not only lodged in the door but the surrounding wall itself. Clearly the elves had considered such attempts and planned accordingly. Thak was right, whoever dwelt inside the Spire did not welcome outsiders. Even ethereal ones.
Awenasa reforms beside Perey and Thak, cursing in Shoanti. "They have used magic or some sort of other unnatural barrier to keep ethereal beings out." She seems very unimpressed, "Seems like too much effort to keep others out who most likely won't even ever come to this island."
She looks up, planning her route up the side of the wall. She stretches her muscles and shakes out her arms, "Looks like they're going to make me do this the hard way. I'll lower a rope for you when I get up there."
Awenasa launches herself upwards and grasps a couple natural hand holds. She continues to scale her way upwards.
"You think I can climb a rope, up a flat wall?" Thak remarks but his objection comes too late. Awenasa is already lauching herself up into the air, grabbing a handhold a full twelve feet about the ground. She had long practice climbing crags and cliffs in her homeland, although Makayda has always been the more nimble. The pain of unexpected memory cuts deep, even as the Shoanti gains traction with her feet.
Even as she prepares to climb up though, she hears a loud voice ringing out, coming from below. Not Perey or Thak, the voice is stern and commanding, and seems to be coming from the still closed door.
"Mortal!" The voice booms, loud enough to echo off the surrounding boulders and drown out the sea. "You are trespassing upon things beyond your meager understanding. For your own safety, your kind is forbidden here. Leave at once! Further attempts to enter will result in the most severe penalties. The Mordant Spire is not kind to invaders. You will find our defenses potent and effective. Again, leave mortal before the price for your foolish ignorance is exacted."
A sudden silence follows the voice. The door and wall remain unmoved and unchanged.
A gut-wrenching yell of frustration emits from deep within Awenasa. Why did everyone insist on being an obstacle for her? Yes, she can understand keeping intruders away but surely they understood that someone had to have a reason for coming to the Mordant Spire. One did not simply wander to this island by accident. Screaming at the disembodied voice she said,
The Shoanti clings to the side of the wall,
Awenasa's shout is also loud enough to startle a few seabirds into flight, and Thak winces. The Shoanti hangs from the side of the building, waiting for a reply. It does come.
"Do not follow those who have passed through." The bodiless voice says, "They are not for mortals to follow. Consider them dead and beyond reach. Your desires or needs are not to be chased here. Leave! Now!"
And then silence. Awenasa waits but no one emerges, no door guard or warden. She would even have settled for a servant. Nothing but a closed and locked door. So she climbs upward. Or, at least, she tries to. Only one handhold higher, there is a strange flash from the organic stone, right in front of her face, and the crackle of lightning.
Too close to react, a bolt of summoned power slams into her chest. The sheer force is enough to knock her off the wall and send her tumbling to the ground, a burning smell in the salt-stained air.
She does manage, at the last moment to land on her feet, knee bending with the strain. Breathing hard she looks up but the spark of the lightning is gone, vanished into the stone. Leaving nothing.
Awenasa's frustration and confusion is boiling over and clearly Thak is concerned for he says, "I think we need a new plan, they clearly don't-"
He is cut off when Perey suddenly straightens and points, "Look!"
Awenasa follows his finger to a pile of heaped rocks to their left. Standing there, outlined against the pale, cloudy sky is a figure. It is hard to guess size among sheer rock, but Awenasa guesses it is little more then a child (or whatever passes for a child in this strange place), dressed in dull gray robes.
At Perey's shout, the figure starts in obvious surprise and then drops down out of sight behind the rocks.
Awenasa grunts as lightning explodes from the stone. She tries her best to keep her grip but suddenly she's falling. For a split second, she thinks about giving up since everything seems insurmountable at the moment...but, Awenasa is not a quitter and her quah is counting on her whether they knew it or not.
Her burst of determination allows her to get her feet under her but it does nothing to brighten her mood. Her body is vibrating out of frustrated anger at the recent turn of events.
Perey's shout causes her head to snap up and her gaze follows his finger. Her frustration momentarily melts and is replaced by a small glimmer of hope. It was someone! Someone who would have more answers than she did.
Awenasa's contained energy, even if it was from anger, fuels her muscles and she takes off after the figure who tries to disappear. "Come!, she yells over her shoulder to Thak and Perey as she runs off.
Awenasa races after the vanished figure, all of her frustration, anger and confusion melding into a burst of raw speed that leaves her friends far behind. With agility born of a life among the rocks The Shoanti vaults boulders and uses rocky ledges as launching platforms. In only a few moments she reaches where the figure had been, and drops down behind the rock.
And finds nothing. Awenasa is surprised, she covered that ground very quickly. Few lowlanders could match her in a rocky field. How had that mere child escaped her? Then again, this was presumably their home. or was it magic? Everything here seemed so strange.
In any case she sees a thin gravel path wend between the rocks, leading away from the door. It is freshly disturbed, clearly the route her quarry took. She glances back and spots Perey and Thak toiling after her, not nearly so nimble. After making sure they were safely following, she took off again, hunter on the trail.
The chase does not last long. The path darts among the piled, dully colored boulders, arcing away from the Spire base and back toward the sea. In short order Awenasa finds herself facing the vast expanse of water again, waves crashing onto the rocky shoreline, seagulls circling above. The path runs along the beach for a short distance and then ends ....at a house.
It isn't much of a house, at least by lowlander standards. A stout stone construction, with a slate roof, surrounded by a knee-high wall. It is dark and unadorned, with windows facing out over the unsettled sea. A lone tree (the only vegetation Awenasa has seen so far on the island), leans it, shading a flat area near the house. A small stone bench and table are placed there, obviously set so one can relax and enjoy the sights and sounds of the waves. But Awenasa has no eyes for the habitation, because there are two figures standing in front of the house.
One is obviously the youth she followed here. He is wearing a flowing gray robe that covers his entire body and seems to melt into the gray rocks around him. What little of him is exposed is interesting enough, for the youth has pearly gray skin, that almost gleams in the cloudy daylight. He has a shock of alabaster hair, yet his features are smooth and young. A boy, with pointed ears and bright purple eyes.
An elf.
The other figure is altogether different. A human, for one thing and an older man, Awenasa would almost say elderly. His kin is mottled with age and his white beard reaches nearly down to his navel. Yet, despite this, his back is straight and his limbs are hale and strong. The man's bearing is firm and controlled, commanding Awenasa guesses he was once a mighty man and even now, in his declining years, strong enough. A heavy necklace lays on his neck, golden shining. He is clutching the shoulder of the youth and Awenasa suddenly realizes this dignified and proud man is blind.
Behind her Perey and Thak stumble out from behind the stones, surprised as Awenasa at the seeming sudden appearance of the house.
The elf says something in a liquid language Awenasa doesn't know but the blind man shakes his head.
"Speak Common, boy. We should be polite. How many are there?" His voice is stern and strong but not unkind.
"Three, Master!" The young elf says with the high pitched voice of youth. "All human, one woman who seems to be the leader."
"Describe them." The old man says with casual command. "We rarely get visitors, I am curious who is trying to enter the Spire."
"One of the men is wearing a blue robe and looks intelligent, for a mortal. His skin is darker." Thak flushes but then shrugs in agreement.
"The other man is sickly looking, thin and small." Perey gives him a watery-eyed stare. "Probably a reaction. He is younger, with clever hands."
Then the purple eyes turn on Awenasa, seeming to scan her. "The woman is tall and strong, almost as tall as you Master. She has many strange tattoos and has some unusual clothes. Her skin is very tanned and dark."
The old man pauses at this and then says, "Does she have a tattoo on her left arm that looks like a moon? A tower?"
Awenasa glances down at her left forearm where, in deep black, is the symbol of her tribe, the Tamiir-Quah etched when she was but a child. She could still feel the slice of pain from the needle, and see the drip of blood.
"No," The elf says, eyes obviously very keen, "An angry cloud."
"Ah." The old man says with obvious knowledge, "You look upon a Shoanti warrior, boy. Stay awake, for they are not to be trifled with."
Awenasa opens her mouth, to finally say something when, to her surprise Thak suddenly steps forward. Usually the scholarly man lets Awenasa take the lead but clearly something unusual is going on. He points at the old man, indicating the man's large necklace.
"The symbol of..." her friend stutters, obviously both awed and surprised, "The Open Palm." His eyes turn to the blind man's. "You follow the Masters of Masters? Iro-shu?"
The large, older man smiles slightly, "I call him the Perfect Man, but yes. I have found wisdom in the teachings in these later years."
"I am surprised, so far from home..."Thak says, obviously both impressed and confused. "Surely you are not from Vudra?"
The man doesn't laugh but his mouth twitches slightly, "No, I am not. But if you travel with Eivind the Heavy Hand, you will go many strange places and meet many strange people. My name is Stjórna."
Stjórna
Awenasa nearly falls over. Stjórna was one of Eivind's band of brothers, his sworn circle of fighters and friends! They had been there for his great quests and challenges, warriors nearly equal to the legend himself! How many times had she heard stores of Stjórna the Stalwart? He had been the older one, the cooler head, something of a calming influence on the others. Still, he had been a mighty fighter who stood tall in the tales.
Could it really be?
"And speaking of far from home," The Ulfen man says, turning his blank eyes toward Awenasa, "Why is a Shoanti warrior here, beating on the doors of the Spire?"
There are almost too many details to take in as Awenasa once again gets close to her quarry. A house where she didn't expect there to be one, an elf...did they all have grey skin, white hair, and purple eyes? How strange...to an elder Ulfen man. Her heart starts to quicken. Could this possibly be who she was looking for? She is slightly dismayed to see that he is blind but it does not dampen the hope that begins to grow inside her.
She listens intently to the pair as they discuss them as if they weren't there. If she didn't need their help so badly, she may have found herself annoyed being spoken about rather than spoken to. Not that she was eager to have a conversation so she waited somewhat patiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot since her body seemingly wants to keep moving.
Angry cloud?, she cocks her head as she looks at her tattoo. To her it looks more powerful than angry but lowlanders often misunderstood her people. Her shoulders square proudly as the man tells the young elf that she is not to be dismissed as nonthreatening.
She snaps her mouth shut as Thak sees something that sparks his interest. Her hope is dampened when the man mentions having traveled with Eivind the Heavy Hand which suggests he isn't Eivind. But when he finally gives his name she can't help but feel excited.
She immediately recognizes the name and realizes that she is in the presence of greatness. How many times had she been told stories that included great feats by Stjórna as he traveled with Eivind. Suddenly her mouth feels very dry and she isn't completely sure she can speak.
A few seconds tick by as the man waits patiently for her to speak while she just stares at him. Finally she clears her throat and squeaks out some words in Common. "It is honour to meet you, Stjórna the Stalwart, friend of Eivind the Heavy Hand. I am Awenasa Windkeeper of the Tamiir-Quah. I seek Eivind the Heavy Hand - for help, not fight. My elder send me here. She say he here."
Stjórna's face doesn't change but he squeezes the elf's shoulder slightly, with hard callused fingers. They take a few steps forward, both easily crossing the unstable rocky ground with what Awenasa presumed to be long experience. The aged man gives Awenasa a long 'look', as if those blind milky eyes could still see.
"And what would the elders of the Tamiir-Quah know of Eivind the Heavy-Hand?" He says finally, voice cool. "Very little, apparently because he is not here. No, not for many years."
Not here.
Before she had nearly fallen over out of shock, now Awenasa sways due to despair. Not here?
After weeks of traveling, after deals and bargains, fights and monsters, ships and fires. Was all of it for nothing? She had literally spent blood, sweat and tears, crossed the ocean and spent time among strange people. All for a chance to find Eivind and now this man was saying he wasn't here? Had She-Who-Upsets_The-Water been incorrect? Had Awenasa been chasing an old woman's garbled legend or made-up story?
"But I may know the way forward." Stjórna said then, his voice cutting through Awenasa's tumultuous thoughts. "But you must answer me this, Awenasa Wind-keeper. What business do have with the Heavy-Hand? What quest drives you? A desire to see a legend, a chance to gawk at a hero? Or perhaps you seek a challenge? Chasing down old shadows for a chance of reflected glory? or maybe you are just a fool, running after monsters." His voice grows colder, harder, like frosted iron left out on a cold winter's night.
"What has brought you here, to this end of the world, to batter on the doors of the Spire? Do you even know what is contained within? Or what you would do if they were opened to you? What sort of warrior are you, Awenasa Windkeeper?"
Awenasa could feel herself spiralling as the words not here resonated in her ears. There may not have been much left for her back home with the loss of Makayda but she had given up what little she had to make this journey. For it to all be for nothing...she wanted to scream, to cry, to punch something.
But then Stjórna throws the Shoanti a life-line by suggesting that there may be a way to continue. It takes all her will but she is able to focus on what he says next rather than on the despair she was feeling.
Awenasa wishes she could explain herself in Shoanti for it would be much more eloquent but alas she stumbles her way through Common, hoping that Stjórna would be able to sense her sincerity even if her words are clumsy.
Taking a deep breath, she begins, "All my life, my people been fighting. Fighting to keep our land from those who would take it, fighting not just to survive but to exist. There is much loss to my people and to those we fight. I seek Eivind the Heavy Hand to save my people and stop the fighting."
"Eivind the Heavy Hand is legendary warrior. He defeated the Black Necromancer of the Glacier, he slew Bane of the White with his bare hands and teeth, he tamed a savage Blood Lion at the Crown of the World...so much he did. But I not seek him to fight for me. I seek Eivind the Heavy Hand for what he took with him when disappeared from Ulfen Court. He can ask Ulfen King for anything and it will be given. I seek him to ask that Ulfen King stop attacking so my people can live free in our land."
"I am to protect my people. I have always fought to protect my people. I never hear of Mordant Spire before I left home. I know not what is within. All I know is that Eivind the Heavy Hand supposed to be here and I need him to save my people. If I fail, all is lost."
"It was the White Necromancer of the Glacier and the Bane of the Black." Stjórna corrects automatically, as if out of long habit.
The stern looking Ulfen man looks unmoved by her pleas of the Shoanti suffering under constant Ulfen aggression. His f ace takes on the cast of a sea-washed rock, immovable and hard. "Suffering is a natural part of life. It is the way of the world, to suffer and to struggle. It is what makes us strong." His free hand makes a rock-hard fist, looking strong enough to crush gravel to powder.
"Is that not what makes the Shoanti great? Like the Ulfen, they live in wild lands that test them, that push them! To strive, to grow!" His words pick up with passion, "Take two trees, and plant one in warm greenhouse and the other in a rugged mountainside. Which will grow stronger? Hardier? Which will make better wood?"
He shakes his head, "Your people should accept this as not only fate, but as a chance to prove their will and worth." The man blind eyes focus on Awenasa, "Your goal is an unworthy one."
Before Awenasa can react however, the older man tugs his beard and looks pensive again. His posture relaxes, "But that does not mean your Quest is not worthy."
"You have traveled far, Awenasa Windkeeper and probably done much to get here. This is good. This is struggle, sacrifice. Discipline. That is the way of the warrior." His words verge on lecture before he asks, "What would you do, in order to gain my help? If I could tell you were Eivind went or how to follow?"
"What would you endure to succeed? Pain? Death?" The old Ulfen warrior leans close, voice a hoarse rasp, "Being forgotten, far from home? To never gain glory or prizes?"
Thak makes a face at this, as if he is not quite willing to risk that much. At least, not on purpose. Perey's face is unreadable and he hugs his cloak close.
Was Stjórna really suggesting that her people should be accepting of the Ulfen attacks, even grateful? Only years of training to master her body kept her face neutral as he spoke. Some of what he said was true but it was skewed. Her land, her community, and the traditions of her people are what make them great. It gave them the strength to stand up against the oppression that the lowlanders sought to shackle them with. It was not the struggle that made them great.
"I left everything to find Eivind for my people. My people think I run away from failure. They not approve of this journey. I am already forgotten, far from home, and shamed." Awenasa cannot keep the pain out of her voice as Makayda's death will forever shape her life's path. "I have endured much, deserve pain, and welcome death. Whatever I can do to help my people find some peace from war, I will do."
Her shoulders are squared and her voice resolute, "What you want me to do?"
Stjórna's face is an impassive mask, solid at the rocks looming around them. His cloudy eyes roam blindly, but his stance is straight-backed as a statue, the hand gripping the young elf's shoulder with easy confidence.
"Well said." He finally allows, "You lack of fear of struggle is something many take a lifetime to learn. Perhaps the stories of the Shoanti do them justice." Another long pause and then, "Boy, lead us to the Blue Pool."
The young elf looks confused and says, "But Master, what about the-" But he cut off when Stjórna's grip on his shoulder tightens.
"The Blue Pool."
And with that, they venture off up another gravel path that wins through the salt-stained boulders. The sea plays hide-and-seek with them, appearing and vanishing as they scramble over rocks and step around stones. Stjórna is capable over the rough terrain, although a few times he misses a step or slides over a sea-polished bolder. Their is no reaction from the old man, no words, yet Awenasa can see a tension in him at these lapses and anger. Yet, how would she react if the world was suddenly black to her?
As the young elf leads them onward, the sulphurous scent grows stronger in Awenasa's nose, slowly conquering the smells of rock and sea. The sound of the waves grows louder however and the Shoanti isn't surprised when a sudden turn of the path reveals the sea. Vast blocks of irregular stone sit among crashing waves, slick and washed. Seagulls rest on some of them, looking like lumps of living snow.
But Awenasa is looking closer at hand. Away from the sea is a round pond, set among the gravel beds. It is not large, perhaps forty feet across from edge to rocky edge. The water is a bright shimmering turquoise, growing darker toward the center. Spirals of steam rise from it and the air is hot and moist on her face.
"The Blue Pool." Stjórna says without fanfare. "Boy, get me a red stone. A bright, distinctive one." The elf shrugs at this odd request and starts poking among the stones, looking for a red one.
Thak gazes at the pool with interest, "A natural hot spring? Or something magical? I wonder what-"
He is interrupted when the elf stands up and hands Stjórna a bright red rock, lumpy and porous. The Ulfen warrior rolls it in his fingers for a moment and then says, "This will do."
Then, without saying anything else, tosses it into the very center of the pool. It strikes the water and vanishes instantly, sinking in the blue depths.
"Fetch me the stone, Awenasa Windkeeper." Stjórna the Stalwart says, voice suddenly quite loud. "And I will tell how to find Eivind the Heavy Hand."
Awenasa has a small measure of hope as Stjórna approves of her words. Surely this was a good sign for him to help her find Eivind. She eagerly follows, wondering what information the Blue Pool would provide.
She watches intently as the elf looks for the requested stone and tries to think what this has to do with everything. She finds the steam coming off the water concerning. It was so much hotter than the bathhouse in Riddleport.
When Stjórna throws the red stone into the water, she wonders if she heard him correctly. Did fetching the stone somehow prove she was worthy? Personally she thought it would prove her foolish. Or maybe Stjórna was mocking her. Surely that was it. "I speak from heart, telling you that I deserve pain and welcome death so you mock me with this? What does getting burned in water to get stone prove other than I am gullible?"
Awenasa was a Shoanti and among many things, that meant thinking for herself. She was not a lowlander follower, shackled to a ruler, a king or a boss. A warrior did what they wished, for their own reasons. This is not to say she wouldn't follow orders (every warrior did during a raid) but questions were encourage and not forbidden. If a warrior did not understand why they must do something, clearly that meant the leader had done a poor job of explaining?
Awenasa's question hangs in the moist warm air over the Blue Pool for a long moment. Everyone is still and quiet, the only sound the crashing of the ocean waves near them. Above them, the Spire looms like a sullen giant, gray and mute.
Stjórna stance gets, if possible, even straighter and firmer.
"A trial is a mockery?" he asks, face unreadable. Awenasa has no idea if the older warrior is upset with her question or not. "The Shoanti do not have tests of the mind or flesh?"
Then Awenasa see. The Ulfen hero is not upset at her, or impatient. he is confused.
"It is the highest ideal, to set one's self against nature and desire. Any animal can do what it must to survive, or for pleasure. But to do something that goes against desire, to go against nature, that is what makes the mind....what it is. To express will, the entire point of being here." Awenasa glances at Thak and the man shrugs as if to say, "Well, some people say that."
"Getting the stone will be difficult, and painful." Stjórna says, as calmly as if he was talking about the weather. "That is why it is worthy to do, because it is difficult. A test of your spirit, and body."
The pool steams, sending up swirls of gray vapor into the air.
Awenasa is having trouble following all of Stjórna's logic. She understood trials, tests, and difficulty but what he was asking seemed more fatal than challenging.
"Getting to Mordant Spire was difficult and painful. Not just survive and definitely no pleasure. I chose each day to keep going, to find way here."
She looks at the water again and realizes that it looks pretty deep, or at least deeper than anything one would find on the Plateau. "Have you ever been to Storval Plateau?" Assuming he hadn't, Awenasa continues. "Water hard to find on Plateau. Large amounts of water together in one place very rare. Most Shoanti where I from can't swim because no need. You asking me to get stone from deep water sounds more like asking me to kill self rather than just being difficult or painful. I expect Ulfen to want Shoanti dead. I hoping Eivind and his companions different, but seems like I wrong."
Stjórna seems unmoved by Awenasa's concerns and pleas, but then the strange confusion drains away replaced with a cold disappointment.
"You confuse me with a thief or trickster." The Ulfen man says sternly, "I may not be the man I once was, but if I wanted you dead Awenasa Windkeeper, I would not resort to such maneuvers."
Then the old hero, standing quite close to Awenasa suddenly moves with blurring stunning speed. Awenasa prides herself on her quick reactions and speed, and it has saved her in many a fight. Many times she had remarked on how slow and lumpen lowlanders seemed to her intense reflexes.
Stjórna makes her feel as if she is cast in mund. Before she has even brought an arm up in defense, the man has snatched at the side of her face. Carefully, delicately but with the speed of a hunting bird he plucks a single hair.
In a moment he is rolling the hair in his fingers, his face still stern. "I got lucky." The man finally says, letting the hair drift away on the ocean breeze. "That you wear your hair long, I had to guess."
He steps away from Awenasa then, his elf apprentice awkwardly keeping pace. "Do or do not Awenasa. Submit to the test or do not, I will not make you. Forcing you would remove the entire purpose. But if you do not get the stone, I will not help you in your quest." And with that Stjórna Stalwart, hero of a hundred tales, gingerly finds a rough stone to sit on and waits, face turned toward the clouded sun.
Even though Awenasa knew many stories of Eivind and Stjórna, she didn't know them. She is much more familiar with the Ulfen in general and so she is not apologetic for her concerns.
She has no doubt that Stjórna, even in his present state, would be quite formidable. Her thoughts are confirmed when he explodes in movement towards her. Suddenly he is standing right next to her with a hair in his hand and she had been unable to stop him.
It is becoming painfully clear that Awenasa only has one path forward. She snorts sardonically as he settles himself on one of the rocks. Essentially he was forcing her to do this because she had no other choice. She needed to find Eivind and performing his test was the only way to get the information she needed. "You say you won't force me but I have no choice. If I don't, you no help."
Awenasa begins to strip to her underclothes. She watches the steam rising off of the water and wonders if there was any way to protect her eyes from the hot water. She quickly checks her meager belongings and comes up empty. Quickly running out of options she turns to Thak and Perey to ask, "Do you have anything I use to protect eyes in water?"
Being as prepared as she can be, she begins to wade into the water. Almost immediately, her skin becomes pink from the heat and she sucks in her breath as the extreme temperature shocks her body. She moves steadily forward, controlling her breathing and mastering her body as she had been taught.