"I seek sea because that is my path. All I know of how to find Eivind the Heavy Hand is to go across the sea." A small amount of sadness takes hold of Awenasa as Calo points out, even if it was without meaning to, that her path would most likely be a lonely one.
When Calo bows and thanks her, Awenasa looks surprised. Wanting to hold onto some good from her time with the clan she is compelled to ask, "What has become clearer to you, Calo?"
There is something comforting about the wrestler's parting words and Awenasa gives a small smile. "May your spirit guide you. I too hope that our paths cross again one day."
She watches Calo depart but does not have a moment to process anything before Thak appears. She peers over his shoulder, looking for possible others waiting.
Awenasa flexes her hand self-consciously as Thak mentions the Phuro. "I see that news travels fast." She nods slightly as he mentions her leaving. "My path leads to the sea and beyond as I seek a legend of old for the sake of my quah."
"And what of you, Thak? Where does your path lead?"
The wrestler weighs Awenasa's words for a moment or two, looking past her to the jagged peaks in the distance. They are turning a gentle pink in the fading sunlight, the rocks softened.
"That one must not put yourself first, but those of others." Calo finally says, after considerable thought. "That it is not always, but it is always right."
Thak grins, "In Wanderer caravans news travel faster then inter planar portals. There is a reason caravans like this often are the sole source of news for small towns."
"A legend of old.." The red skinned man says thoughtfully and nods, "That's a good turn of phrase, my student. I have clearly taught you well." But clearly his mind is on her question.
"My path...well, I have not spoken much of it, have I?"
No, he hasn't. Despite their rather intensive language learning over the last few weeks, Awenasa did not know much about the man. She gathered he was from very far away, a land she had never heard of. He also said he was a 'scholar' a word she had trouble with, as Shoanti had no translation. Something like a wandering wise man but less spiritual.
As if to confuse her further Thak went on, "My path is not my own, but whose is? I serve Iro-Shu, the Master of Masters." A soft smile, "You would know him as Irori."
Awenasa of course knew who that was. Her people certainly were aware of the major gods of Golarion and respected them. Many in her quah sent a prayer to Gorum before battle or Erastil before a major hunt. But there quieter, more day to day holy lives were spent dealing with their ancestors and spirits.
"My task is to learn much, to improve myself, Awenasa. I have decided, long ago, that the best way to do that is to go and seek our knowledge, to learn from others how they live. Only by seeing everything the world has to offer can we glimpse perfection." A small chuckle, "I still have a long way to go." Then a cunning look, "You will travel far, I think, Awenasa Windkeeper of the Tamiir-Quah before your feet are done. One could see much by tracing your footsteps."
Awenasa's brow furrows, "What is inter planar portals?" Seeing Thak take a deep breath in anticipation of the long answer to come, she shakes her head, "Forget I asked."
She is inwardly pleased at Thak's positive assessment of her language skills but doesn't interrupt him as she very much wants to hear about his path.
The Shoanti nods slightly at his mention of Irori to signal him that she recognized the name of his god. However, she struggles to identify with the task that he devotes his life to. Could one truly be fulfilled by knowledge and trying to see everything in the world? Everyone was telling her that she was going to travel far and yet she would give it up in a heartbeat, if it was possible to do so honourably, to go back to the Plateau and live a quiet life among her people. At least that was always how she felt before losing her sister. Now she is unsure what would fulfill her. That is why she is grateful to be able to focus on finding Eivind once again.
"No one on this side of the sea has seen Eivind the Heavy Hand in a long time so I think you are correct that I will travel far." She looks sadly in the direction that Perey had run, "And going it alone will be unpleasant."
The fixes her gaze on Thak, "You've spoken of who decides your path and why you travel on your path but you did not say where your path lies. How do you know which way that Irori wants you to go?"
Thak shrugs, "That is the beauty of it. So I am to discover as much as possible, I cannot go wrong, as long as it is new to me. Exploration is defined by where you have been, not by where you are going." he pauses and says, "What a nice turn of phrase, I shall have to remember that one."
Then shrugging the strange man goes on, "And I must admit, I have never been to where you are going, Awenasa." A strange glint enters his eyes "So I must ask, if only to hear a rejection."
The Vurdarn man bows in front of her and says formally, 'Awenasa of the Stair of Stars and of the Tammir-Quah, will you allow me, Thakarmal Kameshmukhere of the Blue Order of Iro-Shu and Follower of the Fifth Way, to accompany you on your quest? I promise, as long as our paths follow, to act as your faithful and loyal companion. I swear this by the Undying Master."
Then, still bowing, he grins, "I'll even do the cooking."
Awenasa listens and watches as Thak elaborates on why he does what he does. It must be nice to always be so sure of your path. Lately, she feels like every decision she makes is a struggle. Everything had been so much easier when Makayda had been alive.
When he bows before her, her eyes widen in surprise at his formality but she is secretly relieved at his request to go with her. Even though she knows she would continue alone if necessary, she also knows that she needs someone more familiar with the ways of the lowlanders to go with her. She wonders briefly why he would have thought she would reject his request. She is still hopeful that Perey will come around and go with her but if he does decide to stay with the clan then at least she wouldn't be alone.
The Shoanti is unsure how to respond. Was there some sort of formal response that she is supposed to know? Did she bow back? In the end she decides to extend her arm and says, "I would be fortunate to have you accompany me." She gives a small smile, "Our lessons could continue and I will hold you to your offer to do the cooking. It will be nice to have company on the long road ahead."
"I'm sure you already know that I leave tomorrow when my path diverges from that of the clan, that the news of my leaving has already spread. You'll have tonight to say your goodbyes. I still have some goodbyes to say myself."
Thak doesn't take her arm but does grin, "Excellent. Your lessons have progressed rapidly. Perhaps we shall expand our horizons and you can pick up a bit of dwarven or maybe Skald. If you seek an Ulfen hero, perhaps speaking his language would be advantageous? Very well, I shall go gather my things." With that the little man hurries off, obviously excited by the prospect of traveling with Awenasa. She is unsure if this is good or bad but she does envy his energy. Would she still be so energized after a lifetime of travel?
It seems her little collection of well wishers has died away and Awenasa rejoins the feast. It is a bit of an odd affair. Apparently rumor has sped ahead and everyone knows she is leaving but feels it isn't polite to just come out and say it. So everyone is just a bit overly fond of her this evening, and she gets more then her fair share of toasts, hugs and jokes. She is stuffed with food and drink until she is afraid Thak will have to roll her down the hill next morning.
Awenasa balks at first when Thak suggests she learn Skald. The thought of learning the language of her people's oppressors turns her stomach. However, when she thinks about it for a moment she hates to admit that it makes sense. If she could plead her case in Skald when she meets Eivind, it may help to get him to listen to her if she could speak his language. It could be viewed as a sign of respect. She nods as he leaves and watches him go, feeling exhausted from his level of energy. Maybe he sapped it from others somehow...
As she rejoins the festivities, she is relieved that word has spread before her so she doesn't have to wonder about whether to say anything or not. Since everyone knows, she is able to relax. She even begins to enjoy herself a bit.
She makes a point of searching out Herja and Moranna to say goodbye. When she finds Herja she bows slightly and says, "Thank you for standing up for me that first day. I owe you my life, more than once, and I will never forget what you did for me. Any success I have in finding what I search for to help my quah, is because of you." Then she turns to Moranna, "I also must thank you for saving my life. Your well-placed arrow allowed me to gain victory over that bandit leader. And you taught me a lot about how lowlanders think. I will take that with me."
Awenasa straightens and makes to leave, not wanting to draw out a hard goodbye. "I will miss you both. May your spirit guide you."
Herja seems embarrassed by the attention, waving it away. It is dusk now, and the sun has totally set. The only light apart from the roaring, dancing flames are the pinprick stars far overhead. The hot day air cools rapidly, and even Awenasa finds herself stepping closer to the fire.
"Even the wildest mustang needs a herd, Awenasa." Herja says seriously, "They may go out on their own for long periods of time, ranging the open plains, but they always return. We Wanderers know this well. We go here and there on our little journeys, to see new lands and find new people, but we always return. So will you, I hope."
Moranna on the other hand is drunk as a lord, barely keeping a goblet upright in one hand and a handful of dice in the other. Awenasa has no idea how the game is played but judging from her groan after the throw, it did not go well. The beautiful woman's face lights back up when she sees Awenasa however and waves the Shoanti down.
"Sit, sit! Maybe you can change my luck, you are always so lucky." She takes a deep draft of what smells like old honey before throwing again. Peals of laughter follow the throw and Moranna shrugs, 'Or maybe not."
The fortune teller drains the cup in a single long gulp and then turns her dark eyes on Awenasa. They seem deep and wise, if unfocused.
"I think..." She weaves for a moment before blinking, "I think we shall meet again Awenasa of the Distant Land Beyond the Trail." Moranna coughs before going on, "This is my hope, not a promise from the bones." She leans in and in a loud whisper, "Let me tell you a secret."
"I have tried to cast the bones about you again. I was curious! But they do not tell me anything, only that first casting. Curious, eh?" The Wanderer woman smiles warmly, "Your path is clouded ahead. Must be exciting!"
Then without warning she gives Awenasa a kiss on the forehead, a sigh and then turns back to her game.
Awenasa still had no idea what to make of these people. She does not see Perey again that night, even though her fellow Shoanti takes up much of her thoughts.
Despite the heavy food and a glass of wine, Awenasa is up before the sun the next day. This is normal for the Shoanti warrior, but today is even more special. She is setting out, again, on her long quest.
The day outside is chill and gray, the sun merely a hinted pink promise in the East. All around her the world is quiet and resting not quite yet awake. Only a few of her fellow caravanners are awake, those who kept watch. They silently wave in greeting, seeming unwilling to break the last remnants of pre-dawn silence.
Awenasa’s mind is still jumbled the next morning as she wakes and quickly gathers her scant possessions, ready to go when the time comes. She takes advantage of the stillness of the morning to re-center her mind by focusing on her body. She begins by concentrating on her breathing until her mind slowly empties with each breath. With her breathing deep and steady, she closes her eyes briefly before starting in on her exercises that she had been taught. As she moves, she concentrates only on the muscles involved and everything becomes very intentional. As if in some sort of trance, she goes through her entire set of movements and when she finishes, she is calmer. She wouldn’t say that she is at peace, but she no longer feels unsettled.
Her stomach rumbles which surprises her after all the food she ate the night before. She grabs some breakfast and sits down alone to watch the sunrise.
Ever since leaving the Plateau she feels that she has had one foot in two different worlds, straddling some invisible line. The lowlands already proved that it could change her. What if it changed her so much that she couldn’t go home again…or worse, she didn’t want to go home. This constant tug-of-war keeps her from being able to be at peace and she has been constantly reacting rather than acting with purpose. She then chuckles to herself as she pictures She-Who-Upsets-The-Water winding up to cuff her before muttering something derisively about young people and their ‘purpose’.
There are so many ‘what ifs’ ahead for the Shoanti that if she started thinking about them all and chasing them down proverbial rabbit holes she will be paralyzed into inaction. What if she couldn’t find Eivind? What if she found Eivind but couldn’t convince him to help her people? What if she succeeded but died before returning home to the Plateau? What if her people never forgave her for leaving? What if they considered her an exile regardless of what she accomplished? However, every question has the same fear behind it…what if she failed?
Never once did it ever occur to her to ask herself what she would want to do if and when she succeeded.
The camp begins to show more signs of life and Awenasa watches the people who she has protected and cared for since arriving in the lowlands. She knows that she will miss them, or maybe she will just miss being part of a herd as Herja had put it. Even the morning after, she is still perplexed by Moranna’s words. The woman had said she was lucky, which is opposite to how Awenasa feels about herself, and that she should be excited about the clouded path before her. Awenasa would have preferred a direct path with clear instructions on how to find Eivind to any imagined excitement of the unknown.
She catches herself scanning the people, her head moving back and forth. Only after minutes of her doing this does she realize she’s looking for Perey. She wonders what he’ll decide to do. At least she knows she won’t be alone since Thak agreed to come with her but she had started this journey with Perey and had assumed she would complete it with him. Continuing without him would seem like she failed She-Who-Upsets-The-Water somehow. However, she understands better now how Perey didn’t feel the same about the Shoanti as she did nor should he. As much as she may want him to respond in a certain way, she can’t fault him for choosing to stay where he felt welcomed rather than sacrificing for those who made him feel like an outsider.
It was an important moment, sitting there, facing the gray light of the lowlands alone. In more ways then one. Here her journey seemed to have turned a corner. When she set out from her quah, her world had been shattered, turned upside down. She-Who-Upsets-The-Water had given her purpose, not that the old woman would have liked phrase, but little else. It had taken little effort to leave that husk of a life. But now...leaving this caravan...was different.
She could remain her. Awenasa could see, if she was not driven by duty and oath, she could be happy here. It was a worthy purpose, protecting this tangle of families and friends. They were good people, and they had welcomed her. It was more then she had expected, when she had left her old homeland. In a tiny flash of foresight, she saw herself, old and gray, striding along the wagons, nodding to old friends, honored by all. She was still strong, respected by the Wanderers, who had long ago become her people. That future was a future that could have been.
Her musings vanish like a puff of smoke when Thak walks up, blue robe rippling in the dawn breeze.
"You are up early." The short man says, grinning as usual. "This is wise. In Qadria, it is said dawn is the time of the spirits, when those in the Boneyard are closest to us. Is that what you look for? Old spirits?" A chuckle, "Or do you merely seek our path?"
He sobers, and glances around, "Just the two of us then? I had packed for three, in case..." His words trail off, suddenly cold as the chilly air. They are alone on the rocky slope.
Awenasa is just about to reply and stand when she hears a voice.
"I packed my own food, Thak. I've seen what you like to eat." Perey says, coming from around a wagon. He does indeed carry a small sack slung over his shoulder. His face is thin and gray, haggard as if he had not slept in a week. Still, his walk is strong and direct.
"I will come with you, Awenasa Windkeeper. Maybe not to the end...but farther." His words only quaver a little.
A few of the Wanderers have woken up now, a small crowd keeping their distance but covertly watching Awenasa and her friends. Clearly no one wants to make a scene, but they also don't want their zoralo to leave without notice. Awenasa spots Herja leaning against a wagon, and the wiry man raises a fist in a Shoanti salute. Farther along she notes one of the musicians, and his face is red with tears and he only has eyes for Perey.
Still, behind her, her oath draws her onward, toward the sundering seas of legend and the strange world beyond.
Awenasa blinks looking at Thak slightly confused as the world that had seemed so real evaporated before her eyes. It took her a couple seconds to get her bearings as Thak mentions Qadria and asks questions of her like she was a wise elder knowing what to do.
"Couldn't sleep."
The Shoanti practically leaps up when she hears Perey's voice. She cannot hide her surprise as he approaches. His appearance and apparent lack of sleep is not lost on her. She clears her throat and hopes that she has managed to remove the surprise from her face before responding solemnly, "The path is surer with you beside us. Be welcome, Perey"...Awenasa shamefully realizes that she has never asked Perey what his family name is so she adds, "of the Tamiir-Quah and the Stair of Stars."
Awenasa returns Herja's salute when she catches sight of him. The musician's obvious distress gives her pause. She never pressured Perey to decide one way or the other because she wanted this decision to be his. However, she also didn't want Perey to regret or begin to resent his decision.
She momentarily stops their progress and addresses both Thak and Perey, "We leave on a long but important journey. However, if anyone is having second thoughts then now is the time to turn back with no hard feelings, no judgment."
If Perey look hurt before Awenasa spoke, after he looks like she stuck him with a knife and twisted. Thak, knowing the question isn't for him, merely shrugs and takes a step back.
"You ask..." Perey says, stops himself, shakes his head and says in perfect formal Shoanti, "No second thoughts, clan member. We go forward of one mind, with one purpose, duty is our road and suffering our guide. Lead on, wise one."
And with that somewhat inauspicious start, Awenasa leaves the Clan of the Stair of Stars. There is no ceremony, no cheers or cries, and yet, it obviously watched by all. Silently the flags go up on all the caravans, snapping in a rising dawn breeze. The Wanderers watch the three strangers, and yet bonded siblings, leave the circle of wagons, watch them leave their entire world. One by one, they offer the Shoanti salute, some copying more accurately then others. Still, it is quiet a sight in the gray dawn and it gives Awenasa hope, of a sort.
The next three days pass slowly.
Thak, at least ,knows where they are going but apparently they can hardly get lost. All the roads lead to the sea in this region, and more specially to a port named Riddleport. Another city makes Awenasa think of Melfish, its crowds, its stinks and its lazy dishonest people. When she mentions this Thak just laughs but says little else. But one thing is made clear, Riddleport has ships and that is what Awenasa needs.
For her goal was not the ocean or Riddleport (whatever it may be) but the Mordant Spire. All she knew was it lay beyond the salty ocean and for that, she needed a ship. How she'd get one was a question to be answered later.
The road wanders over low green hills, meandering between small villages surrounded by crop fields. Here and there some woods fill a small valley but it all looks rather tidy, maintained, barely wilderness at all. Thak suggests staying at inns, but in the end they decide to not risk Awenasa's Shaonti identity to be discovered. perhaps the lowlanders this far from her home are less sensitive but...perhaps not. Besides, this soft land, with rich grasses, heavy soil and damp air...it is hardly like being outside at all. The roads are busy but few other travelers give them a second look and when they do inquire, Thak does the talking. His obvious exoticism seems to distract people from looking too closely at the looming Awenasa, which is fine with her.
Honestly, her main concern is Perey. The young man is grim and silent on their trip seaward, barely speaking even at mealtimes and mute during the day. He seems to have retreated in on himself, his mind obviously elsewhere. Awenasa's few clumsy attempts at conversation seem to only make matters worse so she leaves it be, for now. Still, he was hardly a good companion. Besides, Thak talks enough for all of them.
Finally they break camp one last time, on a brisk cool morning. They slept in later then usual for the sun is already rising over the fields, spreading quickening light over the world. The air is fresh and breezy with a strange scent to it Awenasa does not recognize. A rich smell that tingles on her tongue.
"Not far today, Awenasa." Thak says knowingly, "Once we get over that ridge," The small reddish skinned man points to a rocky ridge a few miles away, "You might get your first glimpse of...well, I won't spoil it." Typical Thak. Always willing to talk except when it would be useful.
They set off with more speed then usual, heading down the road for the ridge. Here the road is wider and better kept, with few potholes or deep ruts in it. Clearly someone is maintaining it, at least occasionally. All of them, even Perey move with more vigor then usual, eating though the distance as the ridge grows closer and closer.
Awenasa wonders what lies beyond. Was it Riddleport? The Sea? What did either look like? She had heard tales of the sea, of course, for once her people held all these lands, down to the edge of land. In those days the Shoanti hunted where and when they would, with no worries for others. Those days were long, long gone but Awenasa's people had a long memory.
Finally, after what seemed like a full day but had only been an hour or so, they reach the ridge. Without even meaning to, Awenasa braces herself for what lies beyond. Still, what could it look like? A lot of water and houses? That wouldn't be that amazing-
She crested the hill and lost her breath. Beyond the ridge seemed to lie the whole world.
The ridge looked out on a sweeping landscape that was utterly unlike anything Awenasa had ever imagined. A vast plain of glittering blue that was so bright, so real it hurt her eyes to gaze on it. Endless water reaching out under an equally endless sky, without a trace of cloud or fog in any direction. Only the perfect, almost painful blue. The only break was the rocky coast under her feet, a thin line of brown stone washed by waves. Waves! Great sweeping splashes of water, unlike anything Awenasa had ever seen. They dashed themselves against the land with power that was noticeable even at this distance, foaming white. What sound would they make she wondered?
A breeze caught her hair and blew it behind her, proud as a war banner. When she tore her eyes from the sight she glanced at her friends. Thak merely grinned knowingly but Perey had the first real smile she had seen for days and when he spoke, his voice was at least a little more like it had been.
"This...is worthy of a song." The bard says simply, and the sea glitters in his eyes.
Awenasa remains composed as Perey answers her as his formality hits her like he punched her in the stomach. Just one more example of her being damned if she does and damned if she doesn't...she tells him she's continuing on her original quest and he gets upset with her, she gives him an out so he can stay where he wants to and he gives her the cold shoulder. This is why being alone is just easier because it isn't so complicated. She gives a nod to each Thak and Perey to acknowledge their choice and begins her next chapter.
As she passes the wagons with clan members honouring her with the salute of her people, she finds that she needs to look away to the horizon from time to time to keep her emotions at bay.
The next three days not only pass slowly but they are painful. She finds herself worrying about Perey more than anything and she wonders if she made the right decision in not making him stay with the Wanderers. She tries to mend what is broken but doesn't know exactly what needs to be fixed so her efforts fail. There is only so many times one could do the same thing over and over again expecting different results so she stops trying, at least for now. She may just need to wait for the wound to scar over before they could move forward.
Between the unfamiliar scent in the air and Thak's mysterious comment, Awenasa is spurred to get the group moving. She doesn't have to wait long even though it feels like an eternity as millions of thoughts run through her mind.
Finally, she gets her first glimpse of the sea and all the jumbled thoughts in her head cease to exist. She stands transfixed for a moment, drinking it all in with her eyes. She has never seen colours so vibrant and she finds the blue drawing her in. Finally she has to shield her eyes against the light that seems to be everywhere as it glints off the water.
Her eyes move towards the shore and that's when she sees the waves crashing against the land. She finds herself mesmerized by the movement of the water. She can see the power in the water which shows her another side of water. On the Plateau water means life but there was never enough water to generate the power she stands here witnessing.
Awenasa returns Perey's smile and hopes to encourage this spark of life like one would encourage kindling to ignite into a fire. "If you have a song, Thak and I would hear it."
At Awenasa's words Perey instantly becomes more guarded, the smile fading from his face. He turns his eyes to the majestic and powerful vista ahead, the same breeze tousling his hair, tugging at his clothes. That taste of salt seems to grow on her lips, the light dazzling her eyes.
But Perey then nods, although he does not reach for his lute or any other instruments. Instead he lifts his head to the sky and begins to chant in rich Shoanti, words carried off by the lively wind.
"He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls"
What a striking phrase, to link the ancient symbol of the Shoanti, that of the wandering eagle with this new landscape of sea and rock.
His words faded and then Perey shrugs, once again retreating into his shell.
Thak considers this for a long moment and then points north, along the sounding shore. Awenasa follows his finger, eyes tracing the narrow rocky coast until she sees a small bay cut into the shoreline. It looks like a small bowl there, bright blue ringed on almost all sides by drab land. Little dots seems to be moving in the water there and smoke rises from the lumpy shore. A town. Or city, perhaps.
"Riddleport." Thak says helpfully, "We should reach it today if we move briskly and nothing too exciting befalls us. If I recall correctly, this road is well maintained all the way up to the gates, because it is frequently traveled. Riddleport is a major staging point for the local trade routes. Ships leave from here bound for every harbor in Varisia and far beyond. Cheliax, The Shackles...even the Lands of the Linnorm Kings."
The names ring in Awenasa's ears. For the first time the breath and scope of her trip come home to her. So far she had merely been walking in the lowlands which, if barely understood, featured in her mental landscape. But the sea? These strange kingdoms? They were out past the edge of song.
"So, what is the idea, Awenasa?" Thak says, still looking at the distant city, barely visible. "What exactly do we seek in yonder urban jungle?" Awenasa didn't even know what the word 'jungle' meant but it didn't sound good.
As Perey begins to chant, Awenasa closes her eyes and holds her face towards the light. She allows the words to wash over her as the wind whips her clothes and hair.
A last respite before being submerged into the world of the lowlanders. Turning to Thak she asks, "Did you learn enough Shoanti in our lessons to understand or do you want translation?"
She follows the man's finger as he points out Riddleport. Just as she's processing the thought of another city, he begins to list other places and she can feel herself getting overwhelmed. She takes a few deep breaths to recenter her mind and keep the anxiety from taking hold.
"The idea? We find a ship to take us to wherever the Mordant Spire is. If no one knows where that is, then we find a ship to take us across the sea so we can find someone who does know. Do you have experience with boats?"
Thak nods, "Enough to understand the feeling behind the words. Your people....they place a great deal of importance on freedom, on agency. The eagle in flight, the wolf covering the plains...." The small man considers this and then shrugs, as if locking the thought away for further consideration. Awenasa wonders how many loose ends Thak keeps in his head at any given time.
"Only as a passenger." The foreigner says to Awenasa's question about boats. "I must confess, a chance at see the Mordant Spire is one of the reasons I am traveling with you. I know very little about it, except it is supposed to be strange and wonderful. My question is though, what if no boats go there? Not all strange places are visited."
On that note, they set off toward the city. The road keeps tot he high ridgeline, so they are afforded a spectacular view of the ocean as they head northward toward the brown blur that marks Riddleport. The water sparkles and grows somehow even more blue as the road slowly descends as the ridge flattens out. The road here is well kept, any holes filled with sand or some sort of crushed white rock that Awenasa doesn't recognize. It is brittle and crackles under her boots. Curious. Clearly however, this is a main route, worthy of care.
As they get closer, the landscape around them changes from empty wilds to pastures and tended forests. The mark of man becomes ever more clear. Small stone walls, wooden huts, and piles of firewood become increasingly common. Awenasa is curious. When the Wanderer's arrived at Melfish the transformation was more stark. It was wilderness and then city. Was that not custom?
Another few miles they have entered growing fields, endless squares of potatoes, corn and wheat. Everything is regimented and ordered into new rows, all surrounded by low stone fences. Stone buildings start to appear, some standing alone, others clustered into small groups. With every step the signs of humanity increase, with more buildings, and more side country lanes running off toward distant farmsteads. The road also gets busier, clustered with heavy wagons and herds of animals. Melfish had all this but that had been inside the walls. Here, they hadn't even reached the city yet and it felt like that. Awenasa had assumed all cities were like Melfish but it slowly dawned on the Shaonti this may not be true.
When she mentions this Thak nods and says casually, "Oh yes. I think Riddleport has ten times as many people as Melfish does."
Ten times?
"So you have been a passenger on ships before. That will help." Awenasa's pulse quickened a bit when Thak mentions the Mordant Spire. "So you know roughly where the Mordant Spire is? It would be good to know what direction to travel across the sea. I'm afraid I only know that it's across the sea." She looks out over the vastness of the water and feels very small, "But now I see that across the sea isn't specific enough."
She contemplates his question before answering although her voice does not sound sure, "Everyone values something. Hopefully if we find someone who knows how to get to the Mordant Spire then we can convince them to take us. We would just need to find out what would make it worth it for them to take us. I have to trust that the spirits will make a way."
As they approach Riddleport, Awenasa is faced with more unfamiliar and new landscapes that raises many questions. She also can't believe the amount of food being grown in such a small area. No wonder lowlanders thought that the Plateau was barren if they were surrounded by such land. Of course they were incorrect in their assumption that it was barren but she now understood why they would think such a thing.
The Shoanti's jaw drops, "Where do they put all the people?" Her mind tries to reconcile this new piece of information. Then she recalls her experiences in Melfish and she frowns, "Ten times the stench? Ten times the crowds? How does anyone walk in the streets?"
The thought of so many people may have been enough for Awenasa to turn around had she not been bound by her word. She feels a sharp pang of homesickness for the spacious Plateau as the enormity of a city swarming with people weighs on her.
If Riddleport is so big, how many ships are there in comparison? Where do we even start?"
Thak shakes his head as they walk through the bountiful and rich crop lands. "No, I only know two things about the Mordant Spire. That is an island out in the ocean." he pauses as he explains to Awenasa what an island is, exactly. A land surrounded by sea. What a strange concept, like a reversal of how things should be. Water is surrounded by land, not the other way around. Just how big was the Sea anyway?
"It is an island and that elves live there." Thak continued and here Perey perks up for the first time.
"Elves? I've never met elves before." The young Shoanti said. "Have you?"
Thak nodded, "A few, on my travels. They tend to be reclusive though, they don't talk much. Always seem to have some great task or secret mission going on. I think most of it is for show, but they are a remarkable people."
Elves and islands. What was Awenasa getting herself into?
The landscape grows more crowded by the mile until soon there is no break between one village and the next, rolling hills of fields and stone houses. It seems unnatural and she wonders if there are wild animals within miles.
"As for a ship," Thak says as they pause to led a gaggle of geese loudly pass them, driven by a harassed looking farmer, "Every city is different. Riddleport is a bit...lawless, so we may just have to ask around. There are many ships in a city like this, going everywhere. For the right price, Awenasa there are ships here that would take you to Cheliax, Absalom or even Qadira. Ships are faster then walking, and cheaper too. Most of the commerce of the world goes by water."
Some of these places and concepts are foreign to Awenasa but one thing seems clear, there will be many ships going many places. She just wasn't sure if that was good or that was bad?
Finally, they reach the city gates. Or at least what passes for a gate. To Awenasa it seems little different then the human sprawl they have been walking through for the last few hours, but the road widens to a rough plaza, which is choked with people, animals and wagons. The ground is too wet for dust, so instead everything is churned to a sucking, gloppy mud.
The place is a marketplace of some kind, with people selling everything from horses to glassware to books to magical items. It is like the grand center of Melfish but larger, louder and more exotic. And this wasn't even in the city.
Past the crazy market was a low 'wall' of long-rotten wood and stone, looking more like old grassy hills then anything else. Past it stone buildings loom up like cliffs, dotted with wooden shutters.
"The city starts after the gates." Thak says. "The market is because there are no taxes out here." Seeing Awenasa's face he says, "It's complicated but they can trade and act more freely out here. once we pass the walls, there are some rules. Not many though, Riddleport is famous for being rather unconventional in their manner of keeping order."
Thak pauses and then adds, "We'll need to find a place to sleep and stay. I imagine you've never stayed at an inn or tavern before, either of you?"
The little man sighs, "It is a place where you pay to stay, when visiting a strange place. Sort of like that campsite the Wanderers stayed at when visiting Melfish, except this is a building, inside the city."
Just as he finishes, Awenasa feels someone run into her. A small someone, the force is barely enough to make her stagger, and glancing down she sees a small human child stumbling back.
"Sorry, miss! I didn't mean anything by it!" The girl says, raising a hand as if to ward off a blow. Her skin is dirty, clothes tattered, hair a tangled mess of grime and dirt.
Awenasa ponders the info Thak shares about the Mordant Spire. If it was just a small piece of land somewhere in the sea, how would they ever find it? Hopefully her compass will help her keep her bearings when surrounded by water and every direction looks the same. And she doesn't even know what to think about elves. Finally she decides to just deal with them when the time comes. There is enough to consider at the moment about Riddleport.
Her eyes narrow slightly when Thak mentions that Riddleport is lawless. "What do you mean by lawless? And how could it possibly be worse than what we saw in Melfish?" She pauses briefly before asking, "And what would a fair price be for a place I'm not even sure where it is?" The enormity of her mounting issues begin to weigh on her mind.
Her nose wrinkles in disgust as her boots are soon covered with city mud which is somehow gross in comparison to mud out in nature. That in conjunction with the sheer number of people and animals puts Awenasa's teeth on edge. "Will the inn be this crowded? How do you even find one of these inns and how much do they charge?" The importance of money is beginning to become clear to the Shoanti even though it was useless on the Plateau.
Someone running into her nearly pushes Awenasa over the edge and she glares down at the one who touched her, ready to unleash her frustrations. Only her training keeps her chaotic emotions harnessed enough so that it is only her eyes that appear stormy. Her look softens slightly when she realizes it is a child. She would never have been able to run around so recklessly as a child but she also knows that children aren't as in control of themselves. Surprise shows on her face when the girl reacts like she expects to be hit. So far, Riddleport is more confounding than anywhere else she had been. "Where is your elder, child?"
The child takes a nervous step back and gives Awenasa a strange look. Clearly the concept of an 'elder' hasn't reached the world of Riddleport. Then Awenasa notices, with experience that long travel gives someone, that she feels lighter. Lighter? Her money bag!
A glitter of gold hides in the grubby fist of the still cowering child. They are about to run but before Awenasa can stop them, another voice barges in.
"Hey! Thief!" A burly man with a shock of red hair and wearing a dirty apron strides in, waving a hand. "That kid, she took an dumpling off my cart!" A single glance to the small street urchin makes it clear he is telling the truth. A few crumbs are scattered on her tattered shirt and a gleam of sugar on her cracked lips.
"I'll have you whipped for this!" The man says, striding forward to grab the kid.
"If she is lucky," Thak mutters in Awenasa ear, "In Riddleport, thieves often have a hand or foot removed." There is something strange in the tanned man's eyes, a gleam and a question. As if he was waiting to see what Awenasa would do about the drama unfolding.
The girl was crying now, real tears. The angry man grabs her arm and starts pulling her toward him, cursing and grunting. "You won't be stealing from me again!"
"Please, no, I was hungry.." She wails, voice thin and high.
Awenasa's eyes narrow as she realizes the child has dared to steal from her. Such an insult would not be tolerated in her quah. However, this was just a child. Someone has failed to raise this child to show appropriate respect for those in her community. She is about to grab the child's arm to find the elder responsible when an angry voice cuts through the din of the market.
Accusations of another theft by the child cannot be ignored as the Shoanti sees the evidence all over the girl. Clearly the girl required some guidance on how to be a proper member of a clan. Awenasa is ready to have the child delivered over to the city's elders until she hears the word 'whipped'. This word gives her pause but Thak's revelation that she'll most likely lose a hand or foot stops Awenasa in her tracks. The girl needs to be disciplined and taught but not punished so harshly. How did maiming the child help her to be a productive member of the quah?
The scared confession of the child saying that hunger drove her to steal melts whatever is left of Awenasa's hesitation to get involved and spurs her to action.
The Shoanti steps between the man and the girl, creating an imposing barrier that he could not drag the girl through. "The child needed to get the money from me to pay. She made a mistake and took the food before getting the money. The coin is now in her hands. Take it and there's no need to involve any elders." She fixes the girl with a stern look, "Apologize to this man for thinking of your stomach more than the tribe."
Awenasa hopes that the man will take the obscene overpayment for his dumpling from the child and quickly lose interest in having her punished.
Everyone reacts differently to Awenasa's sudden spinning of a lie. Perey looks surprised, and narrows his eyes at his fellow Shoanti. Thak grins, his eyes suddenly sparkling. Even more pronounced is the reaction of the two Riddleport locals.
The red-headed man looks confused, but then spots the two gold coins clutched in the girl's hand. Awenasa has no idea how lowlander money works but surely such a payment is far beyond what a simple pastry must cost? indeed, judging from the greed that suddenly suffuses his expression, she guesses she is drastically overpaying him.
The girl however, seemed totally at sea. She literally rubbed at her grimy ears, as if the mud of the street had caused her to mishear (which is a fair concern given Awenasa's abominable accent). She is so confused she gives up the coins with little resistance, her eyes instead fixed on Awenasa. They are dark and very large.
The shopkeep seizes the coins and without another glance or word, vanishes back into the crowd, probably afraid that his ill-gotten loot would be taken back.
Thak laughs, "You just gave him enough to buy half his stall Awenasa. I didn't know you were such a philanthropist." Awenasa has no idea what the last word means, but his meaning is clear. But what is money compared to hacking off a child's limb?
The girl, suddenly remembering Awenasa's command shouts after the now vanished stall owner, "I'm sorry, mister!"
Perey looks to the girl, and then to Awenasa. His face is a picture of confusion but it slowly shifts to agreement. He nods, and shifts his pack on his back. The musician does give a sardonic smile however and says, "I thought Shoanti warrior's never lied?"
The girl, still staring up at Awenasa finally says, "Why did you do that?" Awenasa notes, with long experience, the girl is trembling and ready to burst into flight at the first sign of danger. Her knees are bent, her whole body leaning forward. Yet, despite this, she also looks utterly exhausted, dark rings under her eyes and more then her share of sores and cuts.
Awenasa isn't surprised that her actions are questioned. Looking at Perey she asks, "How much truth needs to be spoken before a lie is not a lie? The girl needed the money she took from me in order to pay for the food she took. The money was in her hand. I assume she made a mistake in taking the food without paying. I spoke the truth that needed to be said so that this child didn't lose a hand."
The Shoanti looks down at the girl, a stern look on her face. She thought about how many lowlanders assumed wrongly of her people and considered them thieves. "Losing a hand because you take food out of hunger didn't seem right."
She takes in the girl's appearance wondering why no one was taking care of this child. Even if she was an orphan surely there was someone in all of Riddleport who could make sure she was fed and safe. "My name is Awenasa. What do I call you? The way I see it, I've hired you as my guide in Riddleport. I've already paid you two coins and if you do well, there could be more."
Perey shrugs, "Fair enough. Seems a convoluted way of saying that you didn't want a child to get hurt."
Thak adds, "Such punishments are common the world over, I am afraid to report. I have seen them carried out from Absalom to Qadira to my own distant homeland, often with brutal speed. I find the practice savage myself, but legal reform is not my area of expertise. still, I think saving this child from such a wasteful and suffering fate was a good deed. Well done, Awenasa."
The child looks up at Awenasa, still looking like an antelope ready to run at a moment's notice.
"Skimp." She says, voice soft. "That's what people call me." She wipes a dirty nose on a torn and tattered sleeve already spotted with snot. "A guide? What's that? Is it bad?" A bit of her fear drops away replaced with guarded curiosity. Awenasa gets the feeling very few people talk to Skimp except to curse her.
Hearing that such skewed justice is so prevalent in the rest of the world, it weighs on Awenasa making her feel defeated before she truly begins. This opens up a new set of obstacles that she has not considered up until now. Suddenly things feel more difficult. She does not consider herself to be a bleeding heart by any stretch but she still doesn't understand how someone could put money before a child. She knows she can't help everyone so she focuses on the one that she can help, at least temporarily.
She looks down at the girl, "I need someone who knows Riddleport to show me where things are. That is what a guide does, Skimp. Nothing bad. "
"We need to find an inn." She looks over at Thak to make sure she got the word correct. "And we need to find where the ships are. You will show us these places."
The girl considers this, wipes her nose again and then shrugs, "All right. You giving me gold to show you round? That's not bad, not bad at all." She relaxes somewhat, but Awenasa gets the feeling Skimp is never not ready to run.
"Ships and inns. All right. Follow me." The girl leads them through the packed crowds of the marketplace with the speed of a greased snake. They would have quickly lost her except people tend to move aside when they see a six foot tall Shoanti warrior striding through, even if she is dressed like a Wanderer.
In short order they reach the ramshackle gates, little more then two moldering piles of wood. The men at the gates are rough looking but Awenasa doesn't think they look like soldiers, at least not like the Ulfen troops she is used to. These are dressed in dirty clothes and bear heavy clubs instead of swords. The only bit of color are green cloth armbands around their forearms, the only clean article of fabric on their bodies.
"Oh hey!" One says in surprise when Awenasa is about to walk right through. She notes Skimp cowers back, hiding behind Perey, he eyes fixed on the weighted clubs.
The man eyes Skimp and laughs, "What's all this. Leading a known thief into the city?" he points the truncheon at the tiny girl. "I know her, terror of the food market. Always sneaking around. Trying your luck Inside, then? Maybe join a Color? Good luck with that." He laughs and a few others join in.
But then he looks at Awenasa and gives a sour frown, "Well, aren't you a different type of fish altogether. You look like someone who knows what trouble sounds like, and no mistake. " he holds up a gnarled hand, fingers visibly having been broken many times. "Not that I care. Just pay the toll plus a little extra for the girl. A gold, for the lot." he holds out a greasy hand, club held in the other.
Around them, some others pass inside without paying while others wait in a impatient queue behind Awenasa and her friends.
Awenasa doesn't have time to say anything before Skimp takes off. "If you lose me, you get no money," she growls as she follows the girl the best she can. Her glare and size makes it easier to keep up with Skimp but she still has to work to not lose sight of her.
She is so focused on Skimp that she barely notices the supposed guards at what apparently passes for a gate in Riddleport. His yell slows her and she looks displeased at being challenged and by his treatment of Skimp.
"Why some pay and some don't?" she asks, still unfamiliar with how lowlanders did things. She did not have to pay to get into Melfish and so is a little confused as to why she is to pay now.
She glances at Thak questioningly, hoping for a little guidance that wouldn't involve having to fight a whole city. Not that these men looked like much of a threat but given a large enough number, even the weak and unskilled can overpower the stronger.
The gold means nothing to Awenasa and she knows she will pay if expected but she seeks to understand the why of the matter.
"Maybe because I don't like your face." The man says, all humor draining away. He stands up straighter and grips his club tighter. A few of his fellows shuffle to their feet and back him up, baring the way. All have that heavy look of viscous, if untrained, bullies. Awenasa is sure she could knock most of them down, but she couldn't fight a whole city.
"Now it is five gold, because I had to stand up." The man with the green armband growls and adds, "Piss me off more, and I won't let you in at all. " With that, he actually takes his club and pokes Awenasa in the chest with it, like a child goading a sheep. "And you can head back to whatever goat hut you crawled out of."
The urban tough glances at Thak and his nicer clothes and says, "You sure you want her to speak for you, merchant? She keeps spouting off like that, and you won't have a good time in the city." Thak shrugs, unconcerned. He does gesture to Awenasa, as if to hurry her up, to do whatever she intends to do.
Awenasa isn't so easily goaded, especially by the likes of these men. If they need money to make themselves feel powerful than so be it.
It takes all of the Shoanti's willpower to not react when the thug dares to touch her but she can't keep the warning glare from her face or the growl from sounding deep in her throat.
She very slowly drops the coins into the man's hand, never breaking eye contact. This is another reason to dislike cities. Her experience so far proves that only idiots are used in defending cities which means idiots must be in charge of the cities. The sooner she can find a ship and leave, the better.
The man takes Awenas'a money but he wilts a little under her glare and throaty growl. This is his turf and he is backed by his friends so he doesn't quail but he doesn't crack wise again either. Instead he looks at Thak, apparently taking him for the brains and says, "Keep a leash on this one, friend. The Colors don't like people causing trouble in the city."
And with that he stands aside, waving them through. The short line behind them lets out a sigh of relief at the gesture, clearly glad no violence broke out. That might have delayed things even longer.
Skimp strides through the gateway like she owns the place, apparently pleased to have such a powerful looking friend.
Stepping over the threshold dislike entering another world. Awenasa thought she was ready for a city, after Melfish but that was like thinking a warm spring day prepared you for summer. The Shoanti stepped into a stinking, dripping world of rotting wood, slimy stone and reeking human waste. The air felt heavy and stale, like a greasy cloud in her lungs. The looming buildings pressed close together, creating an elaborate warren of alleys and streets. Everything was dark and stained, as if it had been left out in the rain for a century. Which, Awenasa reflected, was probably true.
Skimp however took a deep breath and laughed, "They never let me in. I usually have to sneak in. Let's go!"
And with a laugh she runs down a side alley, vanishing instantly. Awenasa is sure the girl has abaonded them until the street urchin pops a head from around a crumbling stone corner, face confused.
"Come on! This way!"
The next half hour is some of the most unpleasant in Awenasa's life. Skimp seems to prefer cramped side alleys and is apparently totally inured to sewage and garbage. More then one the girl, barefoot, splashes through scum that makes Awenasa's stomach churn. Thak's usually dark skin turns as pale as a ghost as he picks through the waste, hopelessly trying to keep his robe clean. Only Perey seems immune, trudging through the muck stoically.
Awenasa passes dirty sickly men and women lying in street corners, or huddled under tatted blankets. Many have open sores or disabling injuries, missing teeth or worse. Dogs lurk in many corners, barking loudly then running off into blind tunnels of filth and grime. The drunkenly leaning buildings block the sun and many of the wet alleys are coated with mushrooms and sludge eating algae.
She is just about to faint when they round a corner and the world opens up again, so fast as to take Awenasa's breath. She is suddenly confronted with the Sea, separated only by a narrow stone walk. This must be the harbor, as Thak mentioned. A vast blue area of water lies ahead, surrounded on three sides by land, much of it taken up by the buildings of Riddleport.
And ships! Dozens, no hudnreds of ships are tied up here or floating out farther in the water. Some are small, little bigger then the canoes Awenasa has seen other tribes use on summer streams while others are bigger then the building she is currently standing near. How could something so big, not sink? All along the stone street men and women thronged, many carrying goods to and from the ships. Grain, books, glass and bricks, leather, salt and fish. Everything and anything someone could imagine. The scents here are still rank and foul, but are mixed with exotic spices and the strong salt tang of the ocean.
"Well, here you go." Skimp says, wiping her nose again. "Ships. Which one you want?"
Awenasa’s eyes narrow as the man talks to Thak about her like she wasn’t there. However, she moves past and through the gate leaving that unpleasantness behind her.
And then the smell hit her and she couldn’t stop herself from gagging. How can people live in such deplorable conditions? If the world was as big as Thak had been telling her, surely they could go somewhere less disgusting.
She looks down at Skimp somewhat surprised, ”We could have snuck in? And who are these Colours he mentioned?”
When Skimp vanishes from sight, the Shoanti’s fists clench in displeasure at being lied to. She had thought that paying the girl would have been enough to keep her with them. Just as she’s about to take her frustration out on a rotting wooden barrel in the alleyway, the girl reappears and Awenasa’s anger dissipates. She nods and catches up to their guide.
Just when Awenasa thinks a city can’t get any worse, it gets worse. But it isn’t just worse in one aspect, it gets worse in every possible way. What she sees, what she smells, the people around her, even the animals – they all seem to have been corrupted by the city. Once again, she can’t help but wonder why anyone would choose to live in a city? Were there really this many fools in the world?
She is about to ask Skimp if she has gotten them lost when turning the corner reveals the sea and hundreds of ships. She immediately forgets about the disgusting trek through the city as she feels she’s one step closer towards her goal.
Skimp’s question gives Awenasa pause because she really wasn’t sure about which ship she needs. After a few moments she says, ”A big one. We need to travel far out on the sea so I think the ship needs to be big.” She looks at Thak, ”You’re the only one here that has been on a ship. How do we find the one we need? I don’t want to talk to every ship’s owner.”
Skimp grins, dirty cheeks bulging, "You are too big to sneak!" Then the grimy child laughs for a very long time, apparently the idea of the strong Shoanti warrior creeping into Riddleport too hilarious to handle.
Finally she does settle down enough to answer Awenasa's question, "What do you mean? The Colors. They run the city and stuff. Don't they have those where you are from? Who runs your city?"
At the docks, Thak shrugs, "It depends on the city. In some places such things are posted on signs or panels to announce comings and goings. I doubt Riddleport is that organized. We'll probably just have to ask around. My fear is, Awenasa, that no one is going to the Mordant Spire."
Awenasa glances at the seemingly endless supply of ships wallowing in the sparkling water. Surely one was going where she needed to go? How many places could there possibly be?
'We'll probably have to ask some tavern keepers or such people, for likely captains. They will at least know where to start. It might be awhile though Awenasa. And you will probably have to talk to lots of them. Do you have money?"
It doesn't take long with Skimp's questions to realize that the two of them came from very different worlds. Part of Awenasa would love to see the look on Skimp's face being surprised by a Shoanti raiding party. She practically snorted with derision in her mind, too big to sneak is laughable.
"I don't live in a city. My quah is lead by my elders. How can colors run a city?"
Awenasa looks around the docks feeling a little overwhelmed at the prospect of finding the right ship. "If no one goes to the Mordant Spire, what is the next best place to get us closer? Maybe we can find a map."
Taverns, captains, ships...so many things she is out of her depth on. If only she could punch her way to finding a ship. She frowns at Thak's question, "I have money but I still don't understand how lowlander money works. How do I know if I have enough when lowlanders randomly put prices on things."
"So, we start with taverns? These are places to find information?" Just then she remembers a piece of information that Thak had shared about the Mordant Spire, "You mentioned elves. Would there be elves in these taverns to ask about a ship?"
"You don't live in a city?" Skimp seems confused by this but then she nods, "Oh, you live in a village out past the walls." She waves a tiny hand back toward the way they had come. "Farm animals and stuff...." She adds vaguely. Clearly the street urchin has as little idea of the countryside as Awenasa does of urban landscapes. Fair enough.
She again seems puzzled by Awenasa's second question. "The Colors run stuff. They are the bosses." Clearly Skimp isn't going to provide detailed information on the municipal administration of Riddleport. Not that Awenasa much knows or cares, but she'd rather know more about this city if she was going to be roaming around it for awhile. Knowing the lay of the land was the first rule of Shoanti tactics.
Thak rubs his chin. He doesn't seem much more informed then her, but not as worried about it. "I'm not sure. I know it is an island, far out in the sea. Perhaps it lies to the north? I honestly don't know. The Ulfen kingdoms lie that way."
"A map is a good idea but such things can be guarded. In some cities there are places to help travelers and outsiders, but Riddleport is..." He takes a glance at the dirty, grimy city. "Rather less then overflowing with civic pride and participation. We'll be on our own here."
He considers Awenasa's latest idea carefully, "Possibly. But the world is a big place and elves may have other business. All I know is the Spire is connected with elves, but that seems as good a place to start as any."
Awenasa looks down at Skimp for a few seconds. She opens her mouth to respond and then snaps it shut. Obviously they were from such different worlds that explanations given were just words that made little sense.
"Ulfen kingdoms would sound promising if Eivind hadn't disappeared from his people." Awenasa shrugs, "But I guess that could be a start."
Awenasa looks down the street trying to decipher signs outside of the buildings. "If a map is hard to find then we'll go to the taverns. What do these taverns look like? Captains would be close to their ships, right? So we start with the taverns closest to the ships and talk to Captains. Hopefully we will stumble onto a Captain that is an elf."
"Skimp, we also still need an inn. Do you know of one close by?"
Skimp turned out to be less useful at finding accommodations then at navigating the rough streets of Riddleport. Awenasa got the feeling that the child's forays into the city proper were short affairs, mostly about stealing food and money, then escaping. She knew what an inn was, but had never been in on. Still, that placed her on a higher level then Awenasa.
But they put that on hold for the moment as it was only early afternoon and Awenasa felt no reason to not try and find a ship. Maybe, she vaguely hoped, if they got lucky, they could leave today? Not spending the night in this smelly, filthy place was appealing. Were ships clean? She thought they might. After all, they had lots of water to clean with.
The process of investigating taverns went slowly. For one thing, she and Thak didn't look like locals so some taverns promptly asked them to leave. This offended Awenasa but she wasn't about to kill anyone over it. Cities, apparently, ran on insults.
Luckily other taverns seemed to cater toward strangers and travelers, of which Riddleport had many. Indeed, in those places she and Thak seemed s normal as possible next to salt-encrusted dwarves, charming half-elfs and halflings. One bar was made up of entirely only grim half-orcs that made Awenasa feel, for the first time in the city, like the weakling. Another tavern had a exotic theme with a strange spicy sent, silk curtains and mosaic in-laid floors. Thak liked this one but tore himself away after much thought. Awenasa wondered if it reminded him of home, wherever that was.
But the real issue was, no one knew anything about the Mordant Spire. Well, barely anything. Everyone knew it existed, that it was an island several days out to sea, that elves lived on it and that no one went there. Ever.
Apparently the elves did not enjoy company and banned all others from visiting. They did not buy supplies and did not sell exports which, as far as the Riddleport people understood, meant there was never any reason to go there.
After yet another failure, they stood outside a rough looking tavern and Thak said, "This could be a problem. How can we go to a place no one goes to?"
Awenasa should have known better than to get her hopes up. Her hope may have been almost non-existent at the start of their search but it had been enough that her spirit felt utterly crushed after getting nowhere.
She had expected some resistance since not many strangers respond to Shoanti positively, or maybe it was just her, but she had still hoped she wouldn't be empty-handed after almost a day.
Awenasa's face looks stormy as Thak voices what they are all thinking. "We need to make it worth it for someone to take us to the Mordant Spire. I doubt we'll find a Captain that is curious like you are Thak or has a specific reason like Perey or I to go to that island. We need to find a Captain that can find the Mordant Spire and then give them what they need to take us there."
She gives a small growl of frustration, "I guess we just keep searching the taverns until we find such a Captain. Or we go directly to the larger ships and ask around."
Awenasa's skill at reading Common lagged far behind her ability to speak and understand it spoken. Figuring out what squiggly lines on paper hadn't seem important to her (Shoanti had no written version of their language), but Thak had insisted she get some basics. So it was only with some moderate difficulty she read the wooden board sign hanging above this last tavern, the sun starting to set behind them.
The Stranded Seal
Under the worn letters was a very rough image of an strange animal, presumably a 'seal', draped across a rock. The Shoanti wondered if the animal was resting or was a carcass, or if the artist had cared either way. She doubted people came to such places to admire the artwork. Gritting her teeth, the Shoanti warrior stepped over the threshold, Perey and Thak close behind, Skimp lost in their deep shadows.
Over the last few months, Awenasa had learned some of the lowlander myths and legends. It was something that had always interested her, growing up on Shoanti stories, so she had spent many nights in the Caravan listening to these new tales. One thing that surprised her was that, for lowlanders, the place where the wicked and evil went when they died was often a hot desert-y place. Awenasa found this confusing since, to her, such places felt like home. Clean air, good fields of view and few enemies. No, Shoanti visions of the afterlife for the Bad were wet, dank places. Swamps and sucking pools of mud, which swallowed men and women whole. Tangles of wet weeds from which their was no mistake.
Stepping into the Stranded Seal was only more proof her people were wise.
It was like walking into a damp cave. The tavern was dark and wet, with the very air feeling like a sticky blanket thrown over her head. Sweat instantly sprung from her skin, which only added to the humidity. Everything from the walls, to the ceiling, to the floor was made of dark seemingly rotten wood. It sponged under her boots, feeling more like crumbly dirt then solid boards. Water even dripped from the ceiling, and Awenasa changed her mind. Not a cave but as if she had been packed in a very poorly made barrel. Except that might have been quiet.
The Stranded Seal despite being grimy and wet, was very loud and very busy. It was filled with people of all kinds, ranging from lowlanders to elves to halflings to gnomes. Everyone was talking, drinking at the same time, creating a dull roar that filled the dank space like the wash of the sea.
A long bar took up one whole wall clotted with people busily drinking their troubles away. Around a corner, only barely noticeable was a larger area filled with tables, also crowded with guests. Most of these seemed to be playing cards and other games, with considerable amounts of money stacked in front of them. Gambling?
How was she supposed to find anyone here? Awenasa could barely hear herself think, let alone have a conversation. Still, it had some promise, even to Awenasa's untrained eye. The place screamed of the sea.
The walls were covered in old maritime knick-knacks. Old ship flags, stained sails and ropes hung from rusted hooks. The tables were old battered capstans and the bar seemed to have been cut out of an old ship's quarter-deck. In the center of the room, high above the heads of the guests was a giant, ancient anchor, still coated with clinging barnacles. Surely this was a place to find a sailor?
Awenasa crosses the threshold into the Stranded Seal and knows instantly, This is hell
If she wasn't so desperate to find someone to take her to the Mordant Spire, Awenasa would have turned on her heel and left the stomach churning sights and smells that assaulted her senses. She finds the slimy coating caused by the dampness gross and she makes sure that she doesn't touch anything. However, what she sees doesn't compare to what she smells. The stench of decay is perplexing to her when mixed with the cacophony of life surrounding her. The crowd of people bring their own set of nauseating smells that mix with the rotting wood and almost causes Awenasa to plug her nose. Instead she chooses to breathe through her mouth so she can't smell as much.
She forces herself to focus on the room and the people in the room, doing all she can to ignore the taverns ambience. Her attention is drawn to the ones that Thak had described as elves but she can't tell from looking at them if they would be a Captain or not.
She needs some sort of guidance but where to start asking? Maybe someone who works in the tavern? Her eyes roam over the room and rest on the one serving drinks on the other side of the room.
No amount of effort seemed to be enough to catch the attention of the one serving drinks. Either they are truly too busy to notice her or else they were doing their very best to ignore her.
The events of the day weigh on Awenasa and the thought of failing yet again causes something deep within her to snap. She refuses to leave empty handed and she also doesn’t want to spend more time in this hell-hole than necessary.
She needs to get everyone's attention at once and she knows that she needs to get above the crowd to be seen and heard. She leaps up onto the nearest table, which is a feat in itself considering the moistness of the wood, and takes a deep breath. She lets out an ear piercing cry that is common among her people. When the din of the crowd dies down at the commotion she causes she bellows,
Aweanasa's shrill cry and shout bring an end to the babble of voices, clink of glasses and scrape of rough wooden chairs. Every eye in the crowded tavern turns toward her and an sudden stillness engulfs the boisterous inn. A seemingly unnatural and utter silence reigns, broken only by the soft drip of water from the rafters.
Then she is replied with a roar of raucous laughter, derisive whistles and more then a few bowls of cold fish soup. Everyone turns back to their own business while a battered old man behind the bar shouts in accented Common, while waving a dirty rag.
"Get off the damn furniture! This isn't a damned Katapesh cattle call." he waves a hand at the looming woman and mutters, "Shoanti...should stay out in the hills...miserable savages...no respect..." And turns back to wiping down the filthy bar with his grimy rag.
As she clambers down off the table, Thak flicks a congealed fish-head off Awenasa's shoulder and murmurs "Well, that could have gone better."
Perey is unmoved and dour, which is apparently his new state.
Skimp grins though and says, "They threw soup at you! That's funny."
Before Awenasa can remark on this cutting observation a man sitting close at hand speaks up. He is thin and wiry, layered with gray grime and white salt in every pore and wrinkle of his battered face. Awenasa imagines it is what a side of jerky would look like, if left out in the Plateau sun for a year. A scrawny woman is sitting on his lap wearing what had once been a fine purple dress but was now dirty and worn as an old washcloth.
"No'ne goes to the Spire, lady." He says, voice cracked, Common slurred both with accent and drink. The others at his table, in various stages of intoxication nod in agreement. "Yer wastin' yer time."
The woman however disagrees, "The Iglishmek go there."
"Pack of fools." A heavier set man at the table puts in, grunting, "Who run's a ship by....votes? What's tha' fancy word they use?"
"Committee." The first man says, the word obviously well outside his normal vocabulary. He turns to the woman with a frown, "They say lots o' things, darling. Few are true."
Spotting Awenasa's face the man grimaces but waves to the back of the tavern toward the card tables. "Back there, Somewhe'e. Now, leave u' in peace, woman."
As they struggle through the crowded tavern Thak comments, "Still, we have no idea who 'Iglishmek' is. The word is unknown to me." There is a hint of excitement at this. Thak and his word games....
Awenasa's eyes narrow slightly at the overt disrespect shown for her request. She expected a less than favourable response but she did not expect to have food thrown at her. Her hand twitches as she briefly contemplates throwing something back at the crowd but quickly decides that that will not help her cause.
Her head snaps towards the yelling man behind the bar. Sure, now he pays attention to me. If he'd done that to begin with I wouldn't be standing on the table But again, rather than make the situation worse Awenasa jumps down off the table she had climbed up onto.
The Shoanti sizes up the man that tells her what everyone had been telling her all day. She is about to say something angry when the woman sitting in his lap gives the most helpful piece of information of the last few days.
Iglishmek If they went to the Mordant Spire then she must find them. Her brow furrows as the people at the table descend into a conversation that was of no interest to her. She needs to know where to find this Iglishmek, not about how they made decisions.
Finally someone points to the back of the tavern. If they had told her that first then she would have left them in peace earlier. She nods curtly and begins to weave her way through the room towards where they motioned.
A focused Awenasa gives Thak a brief answer as she moves, "We have a name. We ask until we find."
When she reaches the card tables, her eyes scan the patrons at the tables before raising her voice once more, "I seek Iglishmek." She studies the area looking for any sign of response to the name.
Awenasa pushes through the crowd with such force that even she knows it is past the border of being polite. She doesn't care. The Shoanti warrior has spent all day trudging through grimy, gloomy streets with nothing to show for her efforts but cruel laughter and now cold soup. It was enough to put her on edge. And now that she finally had some kind of lead, she wasn't going to waste it being nice to these dirty, unhelpful lowlanders. Didn't they see that if they just let her go about her business, she could leave this unhappy place?
More then once she sharply elbowed someone who turned with anger but, seeing Awenasa's dark face (and imposing size), decided discretion was the better part of valor and shuffled off, often with a curse. So far no one seemed willing to tangle with her over some mild pushing. Behind her, Thak, Perey and Skimp followed like twigs caught in a current.
Finally, Awenasa managed to push her way to the card tables. She gave the area a quick sweep with her eyes. It was a busy place with probably over a dozen small round tables in use, most with four or five people around them. All races and genders seemed present, each person as grimy and dirty as the next. Sizable piles of money sat on many of the tables, clearly being gambled away on the flick of a card or toss of the dice.
One heavy-set man was standing near the middle speaking, but Awenasa didn't have time to listen. She breaks in rudely, her rough accent grating even to her ears. But this time, no one pays attention.
One woman, wearing a floppy red hat says "Shush! Farely is telling a story!"
The heavy-set man, ignoring Awenasa's interruption, goes on in a rich, rolling voice.
"So there, I was, on the deck of a sinking ship, in the middle of the Maelstrom. All around us the sea was waves and foam, higher then hills they were. And on my left was the huge beast, a kraken as big as a building. With a hundred arms!" The crowd grunted, nodded in approval. The story teller waved his arms, dramatically.
"I raised my trusty sword and was about to do hopeless battle when a gust of roaring wind blew me off my feet right toward the beast!" The man mimed a stagger, "Straight toward its clutching, grasping-"
"Well, that can't be right." Said a polite but deep voice.
Awenasa's eyes (and everyone else's) seek out the questioning voice. It takes a moment to look through the smoky gloom but then Awenasa sees a small table huddled against the wall. Seated at it are three dwarves, heavy braided beards tucked into their belts. They are are wearing matching white tunics and, contrary to everyone else in Riddleport Awenasa has seen so far, appear to be very clean. Their are no cards or dice at their table but instead the surface is covered with small stacks of books, along with several bulging bags at their feet.
A general groan goes up at this interruption but Farely, the storyteller says, 'What do you mean, not right? I was there! You calling me a liar?"
One of the dwarves shakes his head, "No, but you must be mistaken. You said, and I quote," He glances down at what are apparently notes, "The best rose out of the sea and swallowed our anchor chain like a fish taking bait." He glances back up, 'Right?"
'Aye!" Farely says, trying to get his rhythm back, "A great steaming gullet, big enough to-"
He is cut off again by the dwarf, "You also stated this took place on a Taldane wine galley?"
"Uh, yes." Farely says, rubbing his chin, "A captured ship, laden with rich wine and fruit bound for-"
"And now, just now, you said the Maelstrom sea swept you toward the creature?" The dwarf seems eager now, like a man on the edge of victory.
The story teller, still confused replies wairly, "Aye.."
"Then there I have you!" the dwarf says and his comrades nod, "Taldane wine galleys are always made with anchor chains on the port side, according to official Imperial regulations." he taps a thin volume on his table. "But, according to Wallachie's The Great Eye of The Sea the Maelstrom circles -counter-clockwise. " Another book is lightly touched.
"So?"
"Well, then how could a counter clockwise storm, from left to right, push you toward starboard!" The dwarf says, raising a finger in triumph.
This is greeted with a long hostile silence and then, shouts, boos and yes, more soup splashed at the dwarf table.
"Ruining a good story!" is the most common refrain, but usually mixed with a few curses. One person even says "Bah, Iglishmek! Nose always in a book..."
The dwarves seem unbothered by these retorts but then they spot Awenasa and do a very odd thing. They scramble for their bags and books, and try to make a break for the door as fast as possible.
Awenasa is running out of what little patience she has when someone has the nerve to shush her in the middle of looking for the Iglishmek. She is about to respond by less favourable means when she gets sucked into the story and rebuttable along with the rest of the room.
She watches the three dwarves with rapt attention. Clearly she isn’t the only anomaly in this tavern tonight. Their appearance and how they are spending their time is in stark contrast to the rest of the surroundings. Why were they dressed alike? How did they stay so clean when she herself found it impossible to keep the filth of Riddleport off her? And why come here with books? So many questions about the curious patrons and yet they are not her concern, she needs to find the Iglishmek.
And then it happens, she hears someone mutter curses at the dwarves and call them Iglishmek. They are who she needs! And so with intense focus, she turns her eyes to the table of three dwarves. To her utter dismay, they appear to be trying to flee when they catch sight of her. Why would they possibly feel the need to run from her? She hasn’t even talked with them yet.
Turning to her companions she says, ”Make sure they don’t get by me until I have a chance to speak with them. It looks like they’re trying to leave.”
Trusting in her friends to help block the dwarves from getting to the exit, she moves directly for the dwarves’ table. Thankfully they are slowed considerably by trying to pack up all of their books and she is able to head them off at their table before they can leave.
She puts herself between them and the exit, ”You are the Iglishmek. You go to the Mordant Spire. For the sake of my people, I need you to take me and my friends.”
Perey grunts and takes up a spot near the exit from the card playing area. Thak hesitates then shrugs, remaining behind as well. Skimp vanishes into the tangle of chairs and legs, far more at ease among the grime and smoke then Awenasa is. Why do people live like this, when the open air and sky are so much better?
Alone now, Awenasa strides up to the table. Before she can even finish speaking the dwarves flinch back like she was raising a weapon.
"We don't want any trouble!" One says holding his hands up, while another says roughly, "But we aren't going to be pushed around." This dwarf reaches down and places a hand on the hilt of a heavy knife at his belt.
The third though cocks a head, his beard rippling, "Wait, what? The Mordant Spire? What does that have to do..." He peers at Awenasa more closely. "You aren't one of the Screamers. Who are you? Some distant relative?"
"Old enemy?" Another dwarf says, perking up at the idea. "Come to claim horrible vengeance on your renegade family members?"
The dwarf with the knife however merely frowns, "Or maybe new to town, hoping to make a splash tonight?" He taps the knife again, "Find someone else then."
Confusion replaces frustration on Awenasa's face as the dwarves begin to talk. Screamers? Vengeance?
She shakes her head, "No trouble."
"I am Awenasa of the Tamiir-Quah and the Stair of Stars Clan. I don't know of Screamers or of what else you speak. I need passage to the Mordant Spire and have been told you are the ones to take us."
The dwarves look very confused at this turn events and glance from each other several times before turning narrowed eyes toward Awenasa.
"Tamiir-Quah..." One says and starts rooting in a bag at his feet. "I don't think...if I have known, I'd have grabbed Browdin's People of the Highlands....or maybe Gnaeus' Savage Lands and Savage People.".The dwarf glances up and mutters, "I didn't come up with the titles."
The others give Awenasa long looks until one finally says, "So what's all about then? Who told you were were going to the Mordant Spire? Because we are not, at least." he turns to one of his colleagues, "I missed a motion at the latest Navigation Committee meeting?"
The other dwarf shakes his head, beard shaking slightly, "No, no plans far as I know, but who knows what is brewing. Someone was talking about heading to Mediogalti, just yesterday."
He turns back to Awenasa, "Why do you want to go to the Spire anyway? Nothing there but locked doors and elves. Seems a strange place for a Shoanti warrior."
Finally the first dwarf emerges with a book, his face a mixture of triumph and annoyance, "All I had was Shiva's 'The Land of the Tattoo.." The others roll their eyes but he flips the book open with a practiced flick and starts to read aloud saying, "Members of the Tamiir-Quah are among the most territorial and secluded of the Shoanti people. The Wind Clan makes its home in the mountains of northwestern Varisia and the southern Lands of the Linnorm Kings, and may the gods help anyone who threatens these areas. They generally only interact with outsiders when they raid lowlanders for supplies."
He looks up at Awenasa, "How does that sound? Accurate?" There is suddenly a quill in his hand, poised over the book as if he is ready to start writing in the margins.
"Is it just you?" Another dwarf asks, 'or is this is a whole raiding band?"
Awenasa’s stance is slightly defensive as the group of dwarves turn narrowed eyes toward her. She bristles as the one reads out the last title. Savages. At the mention of the word, her body subconsciously responds with tensed muscles, a hardened look, and clenched jaw. She would never understand why defending your lands, homes, and family from aggressive outsiders who wanted to destroy you would cause someone to label you as a savage. In her opinion, what the men wanted to do in Melfish by selling her into slavery is what savages do and yet she is considered the uncivilized one based on where she comes from. Yet another reason that she will never understand lowlanders.
Knowing that she needs these dwarves to take her to the Mordant Spire and sensing that there is something different about them than most lowlanders, she forces her muscles to relax and keeps her voice even. ”I was told that you are the only ones who will go to the Mordant Spire and I need someone to take me and my friends.”
She is tempted to tell them that her business is her own but quickly decides that those words will get her nowhere. ”I’m looking for someone and was told that he traveled to the Mordant Spire. That is why I need to go there.”
Awenasa glances at the dwarf reading from the book, trying to follow what he is reading. Her forehead creases both in concentration and mild annoyance as there are almost too many conversations requiring her attention and they are all in Common which takes more energy. ”What means, accurate?”
She shakes her head as if to shake away all the words, ”Will you take me and my companions?” She motions at the others, ”They are no raiding party. If we were, you would not have seen or heard us until it was too late.” Then remembering lowlanders love of the metal coins she carries, she quickly adds, ”I can pay.”
Awenasa glances back and notes that while Thak is still standing by the door, both Skimp and Perey have vanished. Thak seems unconcerned so clearly her friends are not in danger, but merely have found something better to do. Fair enough, since the Iglishmek seem unlikely to run. Throw a book at her, maybe.
'Accurate" The book reading dwarf says, "Of information, measurements, statistics, etc., correct in all details; exact." Seeing that this hasn't helped the Shoanti much he adds, "If it sounds right."
The dwarf with the knife waves this discussion aside however and says, "We don't take passengers."
The third dwarf raises a hand, "Actually, surely that would be a debate for the Cargo and Engagement Board? They would have the say over being hired out-"
The knife dwarf rolls his eyes and growls, "We aren't letting a Shoanti step foot on Collective. I'm still not convinced she isn't with the Screamers. How many Shoanti can Riddleport have?"
The book dwarf shakes his head, "All indications she is a wild Shoanti. her accent, dress and manners all seem to suggest a rustic, rural background. Besides, why would a Screamer waste time talking about the Spire?"
The third dwarf, neither book nor knife, gives Awenasa long look, "You are serious about the Spire then?" The other quiet, finally. "It is a strange place and you will find no answers there. We have tried and, forgive me if this sounds rude, we are more probably more practiced in research. The elves will not take money and they will not respond to threats. It would be like trying to haggle with the stars themselves." The dwarf sounds thoughtful though and he strokes his long (and clean) beard.
"Yet, that is not my problem, is it?" he muses and then says, "You offer money...." A long silence forms, broken only by the drunken shouts, laughter and cursing of the rest of the patrons. Somewhere a bottle breaks and a crowd loudly cheers.
"Tell me, Awenasa of the Tamiir-Quah, do you have anything against fighting other Shoanti?"