Princess Alissetta D’Angoument and her retinue all looked like gemstones in their finery. They were standing and talking on the western castle like the fact that five of the Princess' private guard entering a death match arena was another chore of being royal.
Tymythy had been exposed to these alien values enough that the casual banter of the audience didn’t reduce him to open-mouthed astonishment, like his embarrassing display in the Esoteric Magpie, but still…
”These people make meaningless wagers with coin enough for a dragon’s hoard,” he muttered, shaking his head in disapproval. He did, however, pay heed to the claimed feats of the Steelheart siblings. He felt he should take everything these people said with a healthy pinch of salt, but the two seemed very competent, and clearly at odds with their errant sister. And, since the two had already bared steel at them once, it seemed prudent to watch their hunt, to learn what he may if their disagreements were to come to blows at some point.
People buzzed about the food tents and they came from and returned to the stands to watch the lake. Breakfast seemed to be ongoing and the drinks flowed freely from some eternal font or infinite cellar.
Dounia thought she could see the three pale women standing on the top of the northern staircase, but the sky was filled with tangerine light, it was far, and the three women were near see-through pale.
The Baronet and Baronetess Vertbatton (the very ones that had been questioning Tymythy on the first morning) were sitting languidly as a page ran back and forth to provide food and drink and a second ran to the scoreboard and back to check scores and place bets.
Hallwyn and his people were gathered at their long arched table. They were clearly watching The Adherents contemplate the brass door mechanism that the Blackbirds had defeated only nearly an hour ago. Iolantha, the tiefling master of devices, roared with the catfolk warlord, Nadj (the one who told the story of meeting Silimiel).
Food was scattered across the table, several of the group were standing on it and pointing down at The Adherents and drinking wine from horns, spilling it on their faces.
Below them in the stands were the two gnomes. They were in a deep discussion with the others of their group.
Below the gnomes on the middle ring were the two who'd climbed the wall and been caught but porters. Their hands weren't bound, though the large elven man walked with the assistance of two crutches. The elven woman strained her eyes like her eyesight was adjusting. They were surrounded by six beefy porters both male and female presenting.
The tents of healing were receiving members of The Dwarven Warriors of Dun Leummor for deeper healing measures.
Prince Keone was assisting Lady Shiply into the tent as well. He was being very attentive to her and her wounds looked like she'd been through a battle ground.
A secondary smaller tent held the healers and judges, the elves of Deneb. They seem busy as a team of eight are sequestered in the tent. Another group of twenty-one move from healing tent, where they've been tending team members, to the challenge doors, where they've been greeting teams as they complete challenges.
"Maybe keep this to yourself for now. When we watched you in the lake we couldn't see the 'code' and we could only catch part of the tiles. The other team's codes were easier to see. I have a good understanding of sciolingua. Do you remember anything about that word? Did you notice anything strange about the first challenge? Have you had any feeling like someone is ... reaching out to you?"
Prem thought for a little longer. "I think the scentence you have so far is more like, 'When a dragon takes something something, something takes something weakness. Do any of you remember any other details of 'the code'?"
Zahra's frown deepened as she thought harder. Then her face smoothed and she looked deeply apologetic. She lowered her voice to follow his lead, "Sorry, unlike you I'm not good at languages so there wasn't anything that stood out about the sciolingua word. And I didn't even consider that anyone would want to reach out to us during the challenges. I haven't noticed anything...but I prefer direct conversation, not hidden messages."
Her eyes widened as Prem gave his final thoughts on his interpretation of what they'd seen. As Tymythy spoke, one could see her resolve strengthen and she practically hissed under her breath. "I won't let him take it."
Never once did it occur to her that if it was a specific message directed at them, that she was the dragon it referred to. After all, she would never knowingly take anything from anyone.
Hearing such wagers wasn't anything new to Zahra since she'd grown up in the city. However, it was a bit disconcerting to have them betting on those she knew. Then a realization struck her and she couldn't help but ask Prem and Yoy'ya, "What kind of wagers did they make about us?"
Now that Zahra was feeling more like herself and not like she had been trampled by a horse, she was ready to explore. They had a good chunk of the day left since they wouldn't be doing another challenge until tomorrow. "I assume we can watch the challenges along with the other spectators? I know the challenges change each time but it could be helpful."
She knew that the Blackbirds needed to discuss tomorrow a bit and she wanted to share what she had seen when she had almost died but the busyness of the arena didn't seem like the right place to do so. She would wait until they were back in their quarters.
The Adherents of Aureolus were still in quiet debate about how to handle the door. They've now been talking amongst themselves for about twenty-five minutes.
The Hazard Guard bravely entered the mirror challenge . Their image appeared in the lake as they moved into a mirror maze with reflection upon reflection creating an infinite number of guardspeople. The young captain, someone you think you heard called Ennri Croix, yelled to the others. They returned their yell, Yes Captain! and screwed their eyes shut. The team started to feel their way through the maze, quickly getting separated.
"What?!" she started to exclaim, then she felt the belt suddenly get a bit heavier. She looked down, and her knife had returned to its loop. "Yes!" she cried with glee.
Cairee's eyes lit up as she watched Dounia's daggers reappear in their sheath. "That's a smart application of a spell that can teleport items! I think it will only work on daggers or similar weapons. And Dounia, be careful with it. It will only summon the item back if you throw it right after you've drawn it from the loop. If you hold on to the dagger for even a little while, it will break it's bond with the belt."
"I can read that. One drawstring reads 'Blessing upon they who wander far'. The other reads, 'Leave one coin to honour Isisgiri who watches over the lost.'" Prem looked deep in thought. "Whatever you do, don't remove the last coin from the purse. The magic of the purse may depend upon it."
"I wonder who Isisgiri is?" She made note to find out more about this patron of lost souls. "Tymythy, do you have a coin on you? Or Yoy'ya, do you have one we could borrow, just to test the bag?"
As Zahra placed the coin in the bag, Cairee concentrated on the aura. "Gica Mtce Ted," she muttered, trying to sense what the bag might do to the coin.
Zahra held the bag closed for a few moments. When she opened it, Cairee peered over her shoulder, trying to get a look inside.
"Maybe keep this to yourself for now. When we watched you in the lake we couldn't see the 'code' and we could only catch part of the tiles. The other team's codes were easier to see. I have a good understanding of sciolingua. Do you remember anything about that word? Did you notice anything strange about the first challenge? Have you had any feeling like someone is ... reaching out to you?"
Prem thought for a little longer. "I think the sentence you have so far is more like, 'When a dragon takes something something, something takes something weakness. Do any of you remember any other details of 'the code'?"
Cairee thought back to the day before, fighting the manticore. It had been a long, hot slog to the the battle, and then a long hot slog to the exit. The little creatures who escorted them had been strange and talked in riddles. Did they have a secret message? As far as Cairee could remember, the manticore itself just wanted to appear smart and gnaw their bones.
She closed her eyes, and tried to visualize the strange words that had appeared on the wall. She had done her best to memorize them, but only had a few moments. Squiggles and lines appeared in her minds eye. She did her best to make sense of them, and told Prem what she remembered.
A fourth facet showed the Steelheart Twins in a stone cavern or catacomb. The walls were layered dark grey brick that came to a repeating vaulted ceiling. Mar was kneeling and examining the floor and Arnie stood over her watchfully, but they were moving remarkably slowly….
What was Mar doing? This was the challenge the Blackbirds had done the day before, a battle with a beast that should have been right up the twins’ alley. Cairee watched her sister’s reflection, unsure how to feel. While she didn’t want anything to do with her family, she also didn’t wish them any harm. These challenges were cruel and deadly. So are Arnie and Mar Cairee reminded herself. Still, she didn’t relish the idea of watching them get hurt.
A droll voice, ”What is that Mar doing. Does she suppose she's tracking. Five thousand says she'll come through horribly scarred.” A young man's voice,
"That's Mar! Those are the Steelheart Twins! They defeated an army of skeletons when they were children! Ummmn, I have five thousand. Just let me go get it.”
Cairee’s stomach turned. Apparently she did have a sliver of big-sister protectiveness in her. To hear others wager on whether her sister was scarred or not - disgusting! And the story of their childhood kidnapping had grown into a fantastic tale that annoyed her no end. From what Cairee guessed there had been 5 skeletons, not an army. And while the twins denied it, she thought it likely they were small creatures in costume and not actually undead beings. Arnie & Mar caused them trouble, no doubt, but it was their parents who did the real damage.
The attention on the twins reminded Cairee of what Arnie had said to her the previous day. The family blade was missing, and they thought she had it. Cairee thought back. Had she told her friends about the meaning of the broken scabbard they’d had identified not two days earlier? It felt like a lifetime. With everything else that had happened, it had slipped the Cleric’s mind. It could be nothing. But she should share all she knew, just in case.
She started to ask Prem and Yoy’ya a favour, then stopped herself. Did they know about her connection to the twins? Should she tell them? Yes, she decided, it was unfair to keep information from them, considering all they were doing to help.
She leaned in and whispered, ”Prem, Yoy’ya, can I ask you to look into something for me? The Steelhearts have a family sword called The Beheader.” She stifled a shudder that the name and memory of the blade always gave her. ”Arnie mentioned it was missing. Are you able to find out more about its disappearance? Then I think we should all meet. Somewhere private. I have some information to share with you. It may mean nothing at all. But just in case it’s important, I’d like to tell you all together.”
"I wonder who Isisgiri is?" She made note to find out more about this patron of lost souls. "Tymythy, do you have a coin on you? Or Yoy'ya, do you have one we could borrow, just to test the bag?"
Isisgiri is much like Saiph in that one of his primary teachings is compassion. Saiph teaches compassion because it is rational. Isisgiri teaches compassion because it is virtuous.
Dounia kept half an ear on her team as they discussed the possible secret message, and the magical pouch. However, she was seriously distracted by what was going on around her.
She watched the images over the lake, more out of curiosity about the other teams than any attempt to figure out what lay ahead for her own.
Dounia felt her heartrate quicken as the Hazard Guard got separated in the mirror maze. They would need to be careful to stay together - maybe tie themselves together before they went in. She frowned at the fancy lady, who didn't seem to care about her men.
She kept looking at the blackened out image, hoping that the Sisters were doing all right.
She also kept glancing up at the high table, wondering about the djinn who pretended to be a man. And the tiefling whom she'd impressed yesterday. Would it be okay to go up and talk to them? She shivered a little, and decided to do it later.
She leaned in and whispered, ”Prem, Yoy’ya, can I ask you to look into something for me? The Steelhearts have a family sword called The Beheader.” She stifled a shudder that the name and memory of the blade always gave her. ”Arnie mentioned it was missing. Are you able to find out more about its disappearance? Then I think we should all meet. Somewhere private. I have some information to share with you. It may mean nothing at all. But just in case it’s important, I’d like to tell you all together.”
Dounia nodded, then said, "I'm going to get something to eat, then mingle a bit."
She made her way over to the food tent, and loaded up a plate with fruit, spicy meat, and pastries. Then she moved up to where the three pale women stood. "Good morning Jacote, Shull, Hermeka. Then she stumbled over what to say next, and stuffed a pastry into her mouth instead.
Cairee and Zahra performed their little experiment. They dropped a silve in the pouch. It chinked against the copper.
They closed the bag.
They waited for three moments and reopened the bag.
Magically the copper had turned into a silver piece ... and the silver a copper.
Oh, wait.
”These people make meaningless wagers with coin enough for a dragon’s hoard,”
Yoy'ya nodded her head gently and muttered back, "While good people fight for three days of security. But if they're going to be fools with their coin then I'm going to make a years wages. A year's wages in six days." She had been professional but there as a clear glimpse of her disgust for the conspicuous consumption of these games.
... Then a realization struck her and she couldn't help but ask Prem and Yoy'ya, "What kind of wagers did they make about us?"...
Yoy'ya, "Are you sure you want to know? O.K. There was a seven hundred gold bet that one of you would be killed. A five hundred gold bet two of you ould die. There was a conditional bet that if one of you died it would be in the pit room. Finally, there was a fifteen hundred gold bet that you'd all quit after this challenge." She watched Zahra carefully to gage her reaction.
She leaned in and whispered, ”Prem, Yoy’ya, can I ask you to look into something for me? The Steelhearts have a family sword called The Beheader ... I have some information to share with you. It may mean nothing at all. But just in case it’s important, I’d like to tell you all together.”
Yoy'ya, "I think that guy, the Baronet Vertbatton, is from Chaydeas. He might know something. I don't have any special contacts here but I can see what I can do."
"If this is going to effect the challenges, I'd like to know what's going on. Sooner, rather than later."
Yoy'ya sauntered over to the food tents a few moments after Dounia.
... "Good morning Jacote, Shull, Hermeka. Then she stumbled over what to say next, and stuffed a pastry into her mouth instead.
Jacote, "Mmm"
Hermeka, "Hey. Good work. Listen, I'm going to cut to the chase here. We've made a decision. If you have a chance to talk to the host." She was hesitating and trying to find the words.
Shull, "We want you to tell him 'Shomyendee wants to give it all back'. Can you remember that? Only Shomyendee can give it all back. Can you talk to him? Will you talk to him???" Her breathing sounded funny and the other two were staring at Dounia.
She closed her eyes, and tried to visualize the strange words that had appeared on the wall. She had done her best to memorize them, but only had a few moments. Squiggles and lines appeared in her minds eye. She did her best to make sense of them, and told Prem what she remembered.
"The Sciolingua word looked like...Flaygura? Fowergia? Forgeria?" The characters swam before her, stubbornly refusing to take more form. Another word, perhaps gnomish, came to mind.
"Meis or maybe mies. Do you speak gnomish?" She asked Prem. "I could ask our gnome friends about it's meaning."
They waited for three moments and reopened the bag. Magically the copper had turned into a silver piece ... and the silver a copper. Oh, wait.
"Isisgiri is the middle child of Leila, the sun, and Badr, the brightest moon. He's known for being foolish and brave, and looks after wanderers and adventurers. He teaches the virtue of compassion."
She fished the silver coin out of the pouch and returned it to Yoy'ya. " I'm sure it has secrets to reveal to us. If it's meant to aid adventurers, perhaps it helps conceal coins, or lightens their weight? Zahra, Let's test it more later."
Shull, "We want you to tell him 'Shomyendee wants to give it all back'. Can you remember that? Only Shomyendee can give it all back. Can you talk to him? Will you talk to him???" Her breathing sounded funny and the other two were staring at Dounia.
Taken aback by their earnestness, Dounia hastily swallowed her pastry and nodded. "Yes, of course I will. Shomyendee wants to give it all back. I'll tell him. But...why can't you tell him yourself?"
"The Sciolingua word looked like...Flaygura? Fowergia? Forgeria?" The characters swam before her, stubbornly refusing to take more form. Another word, perhaps gnomish, came to mind.
"Meis or maybe mies. Do you speak gnomish?" She asked Prem. "I could ask our gnome friends about it's meaning."
Prem, "Could it have been 'Figura'? That would roughly translate to form, shape, or silhouette, or maybe, outward appearance."
Yoy'ya, "If you approach the gnomes, don't share too much. Just the one word."
As the others started to disperse, Cairee turned to Zahra and Tymythy. "Now is a good time to examine the doors more thoroughly. They'll likely change tomorrow, but any information we can glean from them will surely help us. Would you like to join me?"
Cairee walked towards the portcullis door.
First she spent a few minutes looking for signs to indicate how it had been opened. Where their traps that were triggered?
Next she looked for any markings or images that could be clues on how to open the door, or what lay behind it.
Finally she studied the door for any signs on magic.
"...why can't you tell him yourself?"
Jacote, "We're known to him. We've ... had dealings with him before. His porters won't let us on the east castle, or within sixty feet of him. We waited in line all yesterday only to be turned around." The three looked frustrated towards the host's table.
Cairee looked over the portcullis. There were six gates, each about thirty-six inches apart. The bars of each gate were at uneven intervals, and offset with the other gates making a forest of metal uprights. The hallway beyond was nearly completely obscured and, at best guess, about sixty feet long.
The gates had no sign of being trapped. There wasn't even a lock. They did look very heavy.
For a second, Cairee thought she could see into the arena ...
Dounia looked back at the high table, then turned her gaze back to the pale women. "So who's Shomyendee, and what does she want to give back?" She half expected to be rebuffed, but her curiosity was too great not to at least try.
... Then a realization struck her and she couldn't help but ask Prem and Yoy'ya, "What kind of wagers did they make about us?"...Yoy'ya, "Are you sure you want to know? O.K. There was a seven hundred gold bet that one of you would be killed. A five hundred gold bet two of you ould die. There was a conditional bet that if one of you died it would be in the pit room. Finally, there was a fifteen hundred gold bet that you'd all quit after this challenge." She watched Zahra carefully to gage her reaction.
Zahra looked stricken. It was one thing to hear about others it was quite another to be the subject of the wagers. It turned her stomach to think that her death could have made someone rich, or at least richer. Why was it that only those with too much coin could treat lives like a commodity?
If she didn't need Hallwyn's help in keeping her ancestors scale safe, she would absolutely make someone's day and walk away from this madness. But need was a cruel master and she couldn't walk away. This competition was not just sport, entertainment, or a want for Zahra. She needed to win.
----
Disappointment coloured the sorceress' face as the silver coin nested against the copper coin in the magic bag, seemingly unchanged. She squinted in concentration at the residual magic as she tried to figure out what the purpose of the bag was.
----
When Cairee suggested checking out the doors, Zahra nodded and went with. She could watch the other teams projected above the lake as well from the floor of the arena as she could in the stands.
"We might as well check out some of the other doors while we have time. Just in case we can't choose this one tomrorrow. That and it would look rather obvious that this is our choice if it's the only one we look at."
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If she didn't need Hallwyn's help in keeping her ancestors scale safe, she would absolutely make someone's day and walk away from this madness. But need was a cruel master and she couldn't walk away. This competition was not just sport, entertainment, or a want for Zahra. She needed to win.
”Pay them no heed,” Tymythy murmured as he saw Zahra’s reaction to another round of disheartening prediction. ”If they want to throw their money away by underestimating us, let us just defy their expectations, make those who doubt us eat their words – and their bets, may the coins get stuck in their throats.”
... "So who's Shomyendee, and what does she want to give back?" ...
Jacote clammed up.
Shull looked like she was trying to talk and could achieve noise.
Hermica exhaled between every sentence, "All the money. All the land. All the titles. all of it."
Jacote, "What are we doing? This kid couldn't talk a drowning fish into a glass of water."
Shull, "Do you know anyone else who can get close to him? You've made a lot of friends here?"
Jacote went quiet again.
Hermica exhaled between every sentence, "All the money. All the land. All the titles. all of it."
Jacote, "What are we doing? This kid couldn't talk a drowning fish into a glass of water."
Shull, "Do you know anyone else who can get close to him? You've made a lot of friends here?"
Jacote went quiet again.
Dounia felt a wave of sympathy for these strange, pale women. Something bad had happened, and they were putting their hopes on her. She wasn't even insulted at Jacote's lack of faith. She probably wouldn't have must hope in her, either.
Something that had been weighing on Dounia reared its head again. "If he agrees, or if he doesn't - will you even know after? I've heard that everybody forgets everything when we leave. Do you know if that's true? It seems monstrous that he could make us forget what we've been through here."
"If he agrees, or if he doesn't - will you even know after? I've heard that everybody forgets everything when we leave. Do you know if that's true? It seems monstrous that he could make us forget what we've been through here."
The three spoke almost unison, "Oh, I'll know." They looked at each other.
Hermica, "It won't matter if we remember, not if he comes through."
Jacote, "If you were offering a wish? Wouldn't you hide it. Besides, Hallwyn loves his chaos. Look," she points to the western castle, "He invites Princess Alissetta D’Angoument, fourth heir to the kingdom of Anweald, and there is her sworn enemy, third son to High King Yagose Maegan."
"Look there. The Oernerian Orcs will be finished their run soon. They'll spend the rest of the day on the opposite side of the arena from the Leummorean Dwarves."
"Even there," she pointed at the gnomes, "Those delegates don't know yet but the land that they are trying to reclaim has been purchased by ... ah, Master Vertbatton and his wife Lady h'Orsey. I don't know what will happen when they find out ... except that Hallwyn will have his laughs."
"And who are you that he brought you here." It wasn't a question.
Shull, "You aren't in a good place, Dounia."
Hermica, "An eye for an island, a tooth for a tooth fairy."
Jacote summoned a deep and careful breath of air. She was worried. "Be careful in the challenges and get out if you can."
Dounia listened as Jacote pointed out the important delegates all around her. She'd known that some of them were important, but she hadn't realized that pretty much all of them were. "So, why did he invite you, if he won't talk to you? Just to make you squirm?"
"Who am I? I don't know. Probably a nobody raised on lies and dreams. I've only here because Zahra was invited. She's a somebody for sure. And we need that wish for her, so we're not backing out. You can put money on that."
When the conversation was wrapped up, Dounia put down her empty plate, straightened her dirty clothes, and tucked any loose hair under her shayla. "No time like the present," she muttered, and moved off towards the high table.
"So, why did he invite you, if he won't talk to you? Just to make you squirm?"
Hermica, "Must be. He left the nice ones at home."
Jacote chided Hermica, "Oh thanks."
Shull, "H isn't wrong." She turned to Dounia. "She means our sisters, Patience and Valandi."
Dounia was tempted to make a crack about niceness, but decided against it. Instead, she asked, "Is Shomyendee another sister?"
"Is Shomyendee another sister?"
Jacote shook her head 'no'.
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As the party dispersed around the hall Tymythy spent a moment longer watching the enchanted pool showing them sights of the other teams before wandering over to one of the tables laden with foods and drinks. Their run in the challenge might have been over before much sand fell in a glass, but the constant expectation of danger had made it feel ever so much longer. Besides, he had intentionally eaten a light breakfast before expected exertion so he found himself somewhat… peckish.
As he got to the nearest buffet he let his eyes glide past plates and plates of strange and exotic foods before sighing and settling for things he could actually recognize – a roll of soft bread, hot as if straight out of the oven, some soft butter spiced with garlic and herbs, and a selection of cold cuts and thin slivers of cheese. He raised one such slice high and held it between his eye and a decorative brazier, marvelling how he could actually see the light through the cheese slice and wondered what manner of blade could cut so cleanly and evenly.
Even in the tinies things, there were marvels to be found.
He cut open the roll, spread a liberal dollop of butter on it, seeing it melt and seep into the porous bread, piled in more of the meats and cheese than anyone in their right mind would. One hand now filled, he picked a wooden flagon in the other and went to sample the drinks offered, settling for a golden mead. Taking a bite of his sandwich he wandered slowly around the arena, but shied away from other groups, finding little in common with the audience and seeing most of the other challengers already engaged.
But there were two people of interest who, while being in the centre of attention on one hand, were very much separated from the others. The two intruders who had made it into the arena uninvited, yet now found themselves held captive. He saw the cutches the man used to support himself and recalled his one foot hadn’t made it past whatever barrier of magic that had appeared when it and the people within had been transported to this place-in-between that the accursed Fae called home. His mind made, Tymythy made a beeline to the two elven captives – brought here for everyone to see, for some reason. To remind the guests of the price of crossing their host? Surely no-one present was so blind, not with labours of unimaginable magic thrust in front of their eyes at every opportunity. Perhaps it was an act of cruelty from their host, parading the two before his guests like rare and exotic beasts held at bay by the formidable-looking guards? Or perhaps Raya Iew Hallwyn had something planned for them, and they had been brought here to await his pleasure, perhaps at the culmination of today’s challenges?
Still, Tymyhty found himself curious about the two. He approached the ring of guards but stopped well short of a spear’s reach from the group. He did not intend to attempt to free the pair – even if he wanted to, there was no road to take except those their host allowed to open, but he wanted to get close enough not to need to shout.
Ignoring the guards, he focused his attention on the woman, as she had been the one to cry out when the pair’s infiltration had been brought to a sudden stop by the arena’s translocation. ”Answer me if you will – what great wrong are you here to set right? The guards spotted six of you on your approach, and only the two of you got this far. You must have understood the risks you took… and still considered them worth taking. Vengeance might not be in your grasp any more, but I would witness your tale.”
Cairee looked over the portcullis. There were six gates, each about thirty-six inches apart. The bars of each gate were at uneven intervals, and offset with the other gates making a forest of metal uprights. The hallway beyond was nearly completely obscured and, at best guess, about sixty feet long. The gates had no sign of being trapped. There wasn't even a lock. They did look very heavy. For a second, Cairee thought she could see into the arena ...
Six gates! They may not be rigged with a trap, but opening them would be a challenge she wasn't sure they could beat without help. She caught a glimpse of movement past the bars, and strained to see down the hall, into whatever space held the challenge. Three porters were sweeping the floor. One was on their knees, inspecting the floor. What were they looking at?
A porter more sensed then saw her watching, and quickly drew a curtain across the entryway.
Cairee made her way to the escutcheoned door, a mysterious challenge that had the cleric worried. The Adherents of Aureolus hadn't been able to open it. Cairee remembered that they'd seemed disgusted with the magic of the brass door, and last she'd seen they had not opened it. Perhaps they hadn't entered this room for the same reason? The Sisters had managed a way in, though the lake revealed no details of their trials.
Cairee studied the door carefully, looking for any signs of tampering or traps, or symbols or imagery that would give them clues into opening the door. Then she focused on detecting any magical auras.
Dounia came to the steps of the upper arena's eastern castle. Two porters moved to its' lowest step to prevent her from getting entry. Both were men, or looked to be, wore pantaloons and a thick sash about their waists. They were toned, tanned, bare chested and shaven. The one on the right was very hansom. The one on the left was not.
She saw past them to see Hallwyn at table sipping slowly and laughing loudly, all of his retinue were. A few of his people were out in front of the table, drinks in hand and dancing a circle around Nadj (the catfolk) and three smallish elves who lampooned the inaction of The Adherents.
All were raucous, that is, except perhaps for Iolantha (the teifling woman who had been so attentive to Dounia's attempt to dismantle the brass door). She stood at the edge of the castle and watched from on high.
Plain Porter, "Have you been requested by His Most Excellent Proficient, Rayar Iew Hallwyn?"
As Dounia stood there facing the two porters she could see Tymythy, a ridiculous sandwich in his hand, walking just beneath the eastern castle and towards the two prisoners.
Tymythy walked toward the prisoners. He wasn't paying attention to those around him but the porters and the other guests, content at first to pay him no mind, began to become confused and then alarmed at the young warrior's trajectory. Indeed, as he got quite close the porter-guards they didn't seem to know what to do. He just walked up to them.
The elven woman had been trying to work out the stiffness of her back when she saw Tymythy approaching. She stopped whatever she was thinking before and clearly began thinking something else. Her companion, the largest elf the spearman had ever seen, was on crutches and looked alarmed at Tymythy's appearance.
Before the guards could tell him to piss-off, Tymythy, bold as brass spoke out.
”Answer me if you will – what great wrong are you here to set right? The guards spotted six of you on your approach, and only the two of you got this far. You must have understood the risks you took… and still considered them worth taking. Vengeance might not be in your grasp any more, but I would witness your tale.”
Cynesarnes looked at Tymythy incredulously. Who would think to break the unspoken code of silence that they were under, "E'gama, check this one out! Listen buddy, they're telling me I got myself thirty minutes to enjoy this beautiful sunshine (If that even is a sun) and that's a pretty big question.
"E'gama and I aren't in it for some vengeance trip. We're not interested in some puffed up opportunity for payback. We're in it for the gold. This was going to be the best payday ever, before the sky was torn off and replaced with this pink painting of a covered over latrine hole. As for risks? Yeah, we knew it'd be tough but we take risks to pay for breakfast. As for the six of us, well, three were just hired help. It sucks but that's how the gig works. But if I knew what was going to happen to Turoeki ..."
She glanced at one of the porters who seemed content to let the conversation happen. She looked Tymythy up and down, "You're an easterner? I think I saw you with a few others coming in below us. How long have you been in Zhayalahmar and what the hell are you doing here?" She seemed to mean, 'what the hell are you doing with these fools?'
Cairee looked at the escutcheoned door. The wall was still scorched from whatever spell The Adherents of Aureolus used but the burn marks stopped in a smooth arch ten feet around the door itself.
In the centre of the door was a plate with a keyhole.
Otherwise, the door was completely unremarkable.
Then Cairee began to focus and try to move her perception into the world of magic. A warm hand touched her right shoulder, familiar, compassionate, and invisible ...
Cynesarnes looked at Tymythy incredulously. Who would think to break the unspoken code of silence that they were under, "E'gama, check this one out! Listen buddy, they're telling me I got myself thirty minutes to enjoy this beautiful sunshine (If that even is a sun) and that's a pretty big question.
Tymythy nodded, taking this to mean the two prisoners were to be executed soon. This was, for him, no reason to feel sorry for them – they had embarked on a daring raid, and they had failed. It only made sense for them to pay for their ill luck. To boldly face one’s fate and go meet the spirits and ancestors in the world beyond the veil, that was part of being a warrior. Indeed, for the hunter, death seemed much fairer a punishment than captivity – he could all too easily recall the pit under the desert sand where so many dozens or hundreds of prisoners toiled until their bodies or minds finally broke. That, to him, was cruel beyond reason.
"E'gama and I aren't in it for some vengeance trip. We're not interested in some puffed up opportunity for payback. We're in it for the gold. This was going to be the best payday ever, before the sky was torn off and replaced with this pink painting of a covered over latrine hole. As for risks? Yeah, we knew it'd be tough but we take risks to pay for breakfast. As for the six of us, well, three were just hired help. It sucks but that's how the gig works. But if I knew what was going to happen to Turoeki ..."
Again, he nodded. Raids were nothing new to Tymythy and his people, although in the recent times, the incursions of the Aerthanians had shifted the clan’s attention from such activities to focus more on repelling the invaders… but the invaders’ camps themselves were rich in plunder, in weapons and horses and trophies, and the risks of the raids just made the rewards in honour so much higher.
She glanced at one of the porters who seemed content to let the conversation happen. She looked Tymythy up and down, "You're an easterner? I think I saw you with a few others coming in below us. How long have you been in Zhayalahmar and what the hell are you doing here?" She seemed to mean, 'what the hell are you doing with these fools?'
”From the plains of Divolgatia,” he said. ”I am Tymythy, son-of-Stywyrt, son-of-Lywys, of the Bastarnae. I followed the dreams of the great spirits here and strive to work their will. As to why I am here in particular… fate? Happenstance? Often hard to tell one from the other, unless you are a shaman or shoulderman of the clans. I understand little of the ways and customs of these western barbarians, but these challenges? Upon hearing of the prize for the winner, I felt we ought to fight for it, and my companions, for their own reasons, agreed. For the power our host has shown is something that shouldn’t be carelessly used.”
Zahra followed Cairee to look at the next door because she wanted to help in any way she could to help the team. But as she looked at the door and tried to investigate, she felt like she was struggling.
"I think I'd be better at talking to people to get information rather than trying to figure out things here. Things are getting muddled in my brain."
As Zahra left the arena floor, she went to find Prem and Yoy'ya again because even though she wanted to help by talking to the right people, she had no idea where to start. When she found them she asked, "Is there anyone you've spoken with that seems undecided about supporting the Blackbirds that I should talk to to try to change their mind?"
... "Is there anyone you've spoken with that seems undecided about supporting the Blackbirds that I should talk to to try to change their mind?"
Zahra was still at the scoreboard and her focus moved between it and the lake. Prem wasn't anywhere to be seen.
Yoy'ya, "I'm not sure. Perdition's Cavaliers seem to have a lot of the old money sewn up.
"You may have passed the Dwarven Team but they have a strong following in the merchant crowd and your scores are too close for any comfort.
"The Sisters of the Silken Scroll are falling to in-fighting. They could barely focus enough to open the door. Maybe we can try to make a play for some of their support.
"The gnomes aren't supporting anyone. We could take another run at them but not for a bit. I just spoke with them an hour ago and we should have a cooling off period before soliciting from them again. I don't know. They don't seem very wealthy.
"What about those strange High Elves?" She nodded to the tall elven contingent dressed in white and gold. They all wore wooden masks set into stiff fabric rectangles.
"You've got a way with people. What do you think?"
"I think I'd be better at talking to people to get information rather than trying to figure out things here. Things are getting muddled in my brain."
"I'll join you when I'm done." She continued to the mysterious door. She could see a scorch mark in a circle around the door. The burn marks stopped in a smooth arch 10 feet from the door. Was that how The Adherents of Aureolu had tried to enter?
As she approached she felt a sudden chill - her connection to Saiph was gone! Her hands flew immediately to her winged pendant and she looked around wildly and stumbled back a few feet. Saiph's warmth flooded through her.
What just happened? She took a few steadying breaths. As she calmed down, the answer appeared in her mind. She should have paid more attention to the scorch marks. The door was protected by an antimagic field. It would suppress any spell or magical effect while inside it's radius. Cairee was about 10 feet away from the door. So, we'll need to open this one without any help from magic.
Wanting to inspect the door further, Cairee braced herself for the temporary disconnect from her goddess, and walked forward. This is fine, I'm fine, she chanted in her head as she hurried forward. She couldn't see any indication that the door was rigged. There were some signs of The Sisters of the Silken Scroll - tracks of four, knee marks in front of the door, and signs of a scuffle of some kind. The keyhole plate was scratched as if by a hard tool point. Had they managed to pick it? The keyhole looked to be the right size and shape for the silver key.
But did they have all the pieces?
Cairee walked slowly to the next door, savouring the warmth of Saiph through her and worrying about the Escutcheoned door. Would she lose her connection to her goddess during the entire challenge? What if her friends were injured? How would she help at all if she wasn't able to call upon Saiph's blessings? All she could do was hope that the antimagic field was on the door alone.
She reached the Ash Door and pushed her worries to the back of her mind, studying the door as she had the others.
There were two identical doors made of ash. The doors were barred with a thick oaken beam threaded through iron bands. At the top of the door was a stone statue of an owl.
Cairee couldn't find anything of any remarkable nature to the doors. There were no wires, or poison pins, or pressure plates. The door simply appeared to be remarkably sturdy.
She focused her sight on the door and a powerful aura of magic, of transmutation, gleamed from the top of the door.
"Young one. It is not your turn." A voice called to her in a thick western Eusabionan accent, thick but clear as a bell.
There was something in the voice and mannerism of the woman… something that struck Tymythy as out of place, although he had fair little experience in reading body language of elves. She was making light of her predicament, that much was obvious, and not something he needed any hints at guessing – unless their intrusion and capture was a mere show, they should be well worried, or at least dejected at their failure.
No, she was hiding something. The raid. There were riches here, there was no doubt about that. But to approach an open arena by scaling its wall? That sounded like pure folly – as soon as they finished scaling the wall, they should have realized that laid beyond, that there were no easy hiding places. Unless they had counted on their host’s welcome speech to draw every eye to the centre of the arena, and were only caught by surprise by the magic shifting them to the Fae realms? That might be reasonable, but the part about being here for gold alone… that was false. If they were here to steal something, it was for something very specific, not just to fill their pockets with coins. Or… perhaps their host or one of his guests were targets for knives in the back? There were certainly many rich and powerful people here, and those beget equally mighty enemies… but no, he didn’t get the feeling of a blade-for-hire from what she had shown him.
It was a bit of a mystery, but likely he’d have to live with not knowing. The elves, after all, could not know if Tymythy was their host’s latest attempt to wring out a confession from them.
"Young one. It is not your turn." A voice called to her in a thick western Eusabionan accent, thick but clear as a bell.
Something about the owl pulled at Cairee's mind, but it refused to come to focus. Cairee offered a polite bow to the door/voice, and moved along.
The final entry for Cairee to inspect was the mirrored door.
As she came out of her bow, Cairee thought she saw the owl's beak move, "Mmmm, politeness. Your manners are appreciated, young one."
Again, an un-trapped door.
The door was highly polished glass backed with silver and gave a seemingly perfect reflection. Cairee looked herself in the eye, looked down at her feet, and then back up ... there was a flash, something strange and it made her head dizzy ... and then it was gone. She was being perfectly reflected again.
Dounia followed the tielfing's gaze (Iolanda? Iolantha?) and saw that she was watching the Adherents still standing outside the door. She seemed concerned that they were more upset about the sun and moon symbology than they were about the puzzle lock.
Dounia was relieved that the less-handsome porter spoke to her. She shook her head, and said, "No he hasn't. My apologies, I don't know the correct protocol. What can I do to let him know that I would like to speak with him? At his convenience, of course!" She cursed her awkwardness and wished she had Zahra's gift on courtesy.