"When I said 'almost gentle' I was understating their aggressiveness.
Zahra looked concerned as Prem revealed that the guards had actually been pretty rough. "You're lucky you weren't hurt. You need to be careful."
"How big were the ...? You're not thinking of going down there?"
Zahra giggled but tried to do it quietly, "Heavens, no! I was just wondering if it actually was a vault. I mean, I've seen the kind of traps they've designed for fun. I can't even imagine how sinister they'd be on something they actually wanted to protect. Since there were only seven locks, for all we know it's a pantry."
The wyvern didn't reappear for the moment. Young Khol looked up towards the leader Batbayar who, in turn, signed to her.
The orcs pushed towards a shelf about sixty feet overhead.
"Oh, of course!" They had met so many people over the past few days, the name had slipped right out of Cairee's mind. "Let's go speak with him."
During a break in what was happening in the lake, Cairee led Zahra and Dounia to the eastern castle. They found their path blocked by two capable-looking porters. When they asked for Nadj the grizzled catfolk
came to them.Nadj, "What is this? Something about placing a bet? Competitors are not permitted to bet against themselves nor are they allowed to bet on their own survival, either way."
"I found a door with seven locks that I took to be a vault."
Prem was speaking quietly, but his words made it to Cyn, who did little to hide her interest. Was it the mere idea of a challenge that grabbed her attention? Or could the vault hold something particular she was after? Cairee leaned in towards their new teammate. "You're part of The Blackbirds now, and we've taken on responsibility for your actions. If you're in need, talk to us. We'll help if we can."
---
As they waited for Nadj to arrive, Cairee placed a gentle hand on Zahra's shoulder and whispered a familiar prayer.
""What is this? Something about placing a bet? Competitors are not permitted to bet against themselves nor are they allowed to bet on their own survival, either way."
"Thank you for taking the time to speak with us. I hope you're enjoying the challenges today. I've only seen part of the The Bonds of Gruumsh perform A Wyvern! They're a nasty, violent foe. I'm praying for the teams' safe return."
As Nadj approached, Zahra gave him a warm smile and a shallow curtsy, Nadj! Thanks so much for coming to speak with us. I was hoping that we would cross paths again. I so enjoyed our conversation when last we spoke."
"Rest assured, we aren't here to place a bet." She stepped closer to Nadj so that she could lower her voice but that he could still hear her. There have been rumours that only your expertise can shed light on. Rumours that someone may be trying to orchestrate my demise and is wagering accordingly. We're hoping that just like Silimiel preserved your life that you would help to preserve mine by sharing with us if these rumours are valid. Is someone that is wagering that I die in the challenges putting their finger on the scale to make it happen?"
"Rest assured, we aren't here to place a bet."
Nadj furrowed his brow and nodded at the porters to beat-it. He stepped down off the stairs and came to a quiet corner with the group.
There have been rumours that only your expertise can shed light on. Rumours that someone may be trying to orchestrate my demise and is wagering accordingly. We're hoping that just like Silimiel preserved your life that you would help to preserve mine by sharing with us if these rumours are valid. Is someone that is wagering that I die in the challenges putting their finger on the scale to make it happen?"
Nadj, "Invoking the name of your ancestor, eh. Saved my neck and those of my others. He he he he." He looked to Cairee and his doubts at replying seemed to calm.
He lowered his voice to match hers but with a big smile was on his face, "It's nothing like that. That Baronet Vertebatton had marked you as prone to die. He's been betting pretty heavy, sure that it'll pay off. Every time you survive he doubles down trying to pay for his loses. That fool Kingsworthy jumped on the bandwagon and his pride won't allow him to see sense and stop. Also, Invil Locheep (he's the head of the Red-Red-Rose group) betted against you in the first challenge. Cut his bet in half for the second. Stopped betting against you altogether in the third.
"Smart fellow, that one.
"But, no. No one was trying to interfere and make you dead."
He took a step forward so that what he was saying was truly private. He stopped smiling, "But be careful from here on in. You're the top team now. Tomorrow is day four. People get desperate. Don't wander alone. You'll have to play safe inside - and outside the challenges."
He took a step forward so that what he was saying was truly private. He stopped smiling, "But be careful from here on in. You're the top team now. Tomorrow is day four. People get desperate. Don't wander alone. You'll have to play safe inside - and outside the challenges."
His eyes fixed on the orcish team’s struggle against the elements and a winged foe, Tymythy frowned at this new revelation. Trying to throw a contest of champions? Granted, the price for the winner was vast, certainly for people to kill to obtain. But at least these people could do things the honorable way – wait until the games were over and try to kill the winners and wrest the price from their cold, dead fingers.
"But, no. No one was trying to interfere and make you dead."
He took a step forward so that what he was saying was truly private. He stopped smiling, "But be careful from here on in. You're the top team now. Tomorrow is day four. People get desperate. Don't wander alone. You'll have to play safe inside - and outside the challenges."
Initially Zahra looked relieved to hear that no one was targeting her. But this relief soon turned to shock when Nadj said that people may mean them harm in the future. "Truly? But everyone seems so nice, except for maybe that Kingsworthy. I can't imagine anyone doing anything questionable, even if they lost a bit of money."
Her thoughts turned to Prem and Yoy'ya and she couldn't help but be concerned, "Does that mean everyone associated with the Blackbirds? Or just us four, I mean six, that participate?"
"You're part of The Blackbirds now, and we've taken on responsibility for your actions. If you're in need, talk to us. We'll help if we can."
Seeing that her thoughts had been read, the faraway look on Cyn's eyes dissipated to something more guarded. She then looked Cairee over with an assessing stare, "Yeah, sure. If we're in need."
"Truly? But everyone seems so nice, except for maybe that Kingsworthy. I can't imagine anyone doing anything questionable, even if they lost a bit of money."
Nadj, "Yeah, sure. They're all 'nice' people. Just don't wander around alone."
"Does that mean everyone associated with the Blackbirds? Or just us four, I mean six, that participate?"
Nadj looked a little confused, "Why would someone come after a non-competitor? Quitting would be one way to ensure you're safe. Listen, I want a little quid pro quo here. What door are you going to pick next? And don't go telling anyone else."
Dounia finally paid attention to what Prem was saying. "Why did you do that at all? And when? We were only gone for like 5 minutes."
To Cyn, she said, "Listen, don't get stupid. You already got caught, and some of your people killed, trying to sneak in here. Your best bet for helping your people is to win this game. We vouched for you, we took you in, so we wouldn't have to kill you. It would be pretty poor form to do something now to get us kicked out of the game. Help us win, and you'll get your fair share of the winnings."
Dounia nodded as Nadj gave his warning. "That makes sense. The people who are betting on the other teams will want to get rid of the obvious top competitors. He's right, we should stick together."
"I think we should do the mirror door next. That one seems scary, and I don't want it to get harder."
Nadj, "Yeah, sure. They're all 'nice' people. Just don't wander around alone."
Zahra smiled and nodded, "I knew it! I knew they were nice...but in an abundance of caution and respect for your advice, we will stay together."
Nadj looked a little confused, "Why would someone come after a non-competitor? Quitting would be one way to ensure you're safe. Listen, I want a little quid pro quo here. What door are you going to pick next? And don't go telling anyone else."
Zahra looked surprised at Nadj's confusion, "Because they help us, that's why. Maybe not during the challenge but definitely in between them."
The sorceress looked around at the others when Nadj made his request. "That seems fair considering you took the time to speak with us and provided information to us."
She nodded when Dounia gave her opinion, "I think we are all of the same mind in that."
"Yeah, sure. They're all 'nice' people. Just don't wander around alone."
Cairee could tell Nadj was truly concerned, despite his glib manor. She offered a small bow. "Thank you for your help and concern. We will head your warning and stay together."
"I think we should do the mirror door next. That one seems scary, and I don't want it to get harder."
"If that is our choice, we should discuss ways to protect ourselves. Perhaps Yoy'ya can help us procure some items or draughts to keep our minds...our own."
"Thank you for your help and concern. We will head your warning and stay together."
Nadj, "Hm, concern, why would I ... you overstate ... I don't care either way." The older gruff catfolk was clearly lying. He nodded like a stern old general dismissing his troops and turned to go back to Hallwn's table when he stopped to see activity in the lake.
The orcs had been climbing for a few minutes. Batbayar had reached the plateau. Nergui, Jad, and Tyerror were close behind and about ten feet from solid footing. Khol, the youngest, was further down and inconveniently off to the right. She couldn't find a suitable path over and had become an island unto herself. Small rivers of mud were creating flows in every place around her. She ducked when she heard the noise.
The great flapping of wings could be heard over the rain and a shadow that looked like a giant man flashed against the mountainside.
Missing the sight of Khol, the wyvern swooped in and grabbed Tyerror with both claws. Its' talons dug into his body mercilessly and began to lift him off the mountain.
Negui, wounded of shoulder, tried to lance it with his broadsword. Jad called out to the winds in a voice somehow amplified, "We are bound! This one and I! Ease him and give me my due!" Her hand was to the sky and a simple ring of platinum was about her wrist. The ring glowed with a deep blue light.
Identical wounds appeared on the old woman's torso and she coughed up some blood as Tyerror seemed to be somewhat revived. He grabbed the creature's claws and, with a mighty effort pulled himself free ... only to fall and be hurt again. The old woman seemed to feel that to.
Batbayar threw a handaxe in his ungloved hand and, though the weapon was small, it skittered across the wyvern's back leaving wounds in several places. Khol once again landed a shot with her sling but this bullet left a scorch mark like a ball of phosphorous.
The wyvern beat its' wings and flew backwards in the heavy winds. It looked as clumsy as a swimming elephant as it flailed its' head about. That's when it spotted Khol. Making a great push it reoriented itself and flew towards the young one.
Part of the lake focused in on Batbayar's face and no one could mistake his anger, frightening enough from a competitor. Many who watched were glad he wasn't their enemy on some battlefield. He ran towards the plateau's edge and leapt. There was a frozen moment where the great Oerneirian Orc was in midair. Then he came crashing down on the wyvern with his bladed fist in its' neck.
Batbayar rode it, holding on desperately, as the wyvern fell into the darkness of the storm and they both disappeared.
The other orcs joined together. Khol yelled through the storm, "Go! Get to the summit! Wait there for me until the last minute, then, go through whatever door you find there!"
The wounded Tyerror yelled back defiantly, "I am Second! And I say we all go!"
Khol stood firm, "No! It is my naming path! My Blooding! Go and make the way ready! I will be there with whatever I find!"
The orcs split up. Tyerror, Negui, and Jad continued to climb upward, all wounded in the rain. Khol started a lonely decent. The storm raged.
-
Tymythy yelled out loud as Batbayar jumped at the wyvern, risking his life - no, more likely sacrificing it to save his kin, and possibly take the enemy down with him. If he could hold on long enough to take out one of the dragon-kin's wings it would be bound to the ground and unable to follow the other orcs... and more than likely bash both of them to death while falling down from such heights.
"Honor to him and his clan!" the hunter roared, touched by such an act of heroism.
"Honor to him and his clan!" the hunter roared, touched by such an act of heroism.
Prince Keone, "Honour!"
Guthan, Grownya, Cadren, and Roshynduv threw ceramic goblets to the floor.
Simone Ghastwith of the Sisters raised her glass of wine and the members of The Hazard Guard, their glasses.
Less sure utterings came from the crowd.
Dounia made a hasty look for the pale ladies and the door of the Painted Eclipse. She knocked ... nothing. She tried the handle ... locked. No one was there.
A small band gathered and a fiddle began playing low. A cold wind cut over the arena. The setting sun was getting near the crenelations of the upper arena wall. Stone braziers, three foot wide granite bowls, were set about the arena by teams of porters and lit for warmth.
Bowls of stew were brought about and steam floated from them. It was a pumpkin and potato with savoury herbs. Three huge platters of meat were brought out each carried by twelve small creatures, each grey and goblin-like. As they passed those within several yards of them shuddered with a feeling one could only call the creeps.
One platter of meat had a skull at one end that looked like a pelican's head but its' beak narrowed to a long axe-blade edge.
One platter had a great eel's head with meat trailing behind it.
The last held an immense alligator's head at its' centre with meat stuffed in its' gapping jaws.
Guests began accepting bowls made of herbed bread, placing in them the meats of their choice and dipping the meats in their soup to eat.
The fiddle played throughout as the sky cleared, darkened and showed its' stars. Finally, the woman who led the Bygdydans the following evening came out. She had on long rust-coloured robes and held a long brown scarf. She danced around one pyre then moved to another.
A man by the fiddle began to sing. His voice was deep and throaty as he sang the words slowly and with a strange longing.
T’was a glorious day on Carnthagen Way
The sun beat down hot on the wheat as it sway
But if I should espy a little blood on the rye
Please pardon should I get a thrill a thrill
Life’s exciting on Splitheel Hill
Upon Splitheel Hill a man had a wife
And they had darling twins the pride of their life
Who played at young lords with false horses and swords
But the wind came at night brought a chill a chill
When evil crawled Splitheel Hill
Six skeletal fiends stalked the Steelhearted twins
Like some kind of payback for parental sins
That night from the pass up the hill to the house
Then with the two twins ran away away
Of before light of day
The wife and her lord and their red handled sword
Chased the skeletal thieves for the babes they adored
They never ceased but killed bird, man, and beast
‘Til they came to the gate of the hoard the hoard
And list’ for some sign or word
They broke through the gate in a terrible state
Anxious they’d find their sweets stuffed and on plate
But with panicking mind what did they divine?
Triumphant twins on a fresh mound of bones of bones
Wooden sword lords on skeletal thrones
The lesson is this: don’t dread parents in fits
When Steelhearted tots are armed with sharp sticks
Yes, Arnie and Mar are known near and far
Hell, those kids were born with a will a will
And legends are buggers to kill.
Zahra watched wide-eyed with her face showing concern as she watched the orcs compete. She choked off a scream as Batbayar leapt and just whispered, "No."
Then Tymythy started a chorus of people yelling honour but personally she saw nothing honourable in death. He was surely brave for how he died but it was the rest of them who were left behind to mourn.
The weight of the challenges rested on Zahra until later that evening when the music started. There was something therapeutic about the melody but then the words registered and she turned to Cairee. "He's singing about your siblings! Did you know there was a song about them?" Then more to herself she asked, "I wonder if there's a song about us?"
Cairee sat with her friends as the large platters were carried out, each with an animal head or skull at the centre. She recognized an Axe Beaked bird and a Moray. The others weren't familiar. The cleric wasn't a vegetarian, but seeing the animals carcasses featured so prominently turned her stomach. These skulls were meant to impress, not nourish. She murmured a prayer of thanks for the animals' lives, and turned to the hearty stew.
"He's singing about your siblings! Did you know there was a song about them?"
"I've heard it before, yes." Cairee stifled the urge to roll her eyes. The story of Arnie and Mar besting a hoard of skeletons as children had travelled to all corners of Aerde it seemed. While it delighted listeners, to Cairee it just served as another reminder of how much of a disappointment she was to her parents.
Dounia gives a final thump on the door, disappointed. She considers picking the lock, but doesn't want to take the time. If she doesn't see them by bedtime, she'll consider it.
Looking at the fantastical beasts laid out for them to eat, Dounia wishes she'd paid more attention to the bestiaries she and Cyra used to page through. But she'd been more interested in the illuminated drawings than the text. She was happy to try a little bit of everything, though.
Still the orcs didn't come out of their door. She wondered if that solo one, what was their name? Cole? If they would find the leader, and save him. She hoped so.
She watched the crowd's reaction to the song about Cairee's dumb siblings. What did Arnie and Mar think about being sung about in public? What did the audience think?"Can any of you sing?" she asked softly? "We could have a song tomorrow."
Tymythy looked at the trays presented to the guests by the strange porters with mixed feelings. Three great beasts had been killed, creatures he knew not the names for but thought he could imagine in the fullness of flesh. A bird with a heavy, sharp beak perfect for chopping at a smaller prey. Likely of the wingless or at least flightless variety, as the head suggested the creature was of an impressive stature, and a beak like that would seem to serve little purpose in flight or diving assaults. A great eel, large enough to fit most of a full-grown man into its mouth full of concentric circles of needle-like teeth. And a giant aquatic lizard, but of a size large enough to suggest it had been inhabited by a spirit-god of a land – surely nothing less than a spirit’s blessing would have allowed a creature like that grow to such size!
A host of trophies to make any hunter proud… but knowing their host their lives might have been snuffed out by magic from afar. And if there was no danger to the hunter, was the trophy worth displaying? Or, if a mortal man had indeed caught the beasts, it was their host who was presenting the creatures as his own kills. Worthy of acknowledgement, to be sure, but of honour?
She watched the crowd's reaction to the song about Cairee's dumb siblings. What did Arnie and Mar think about being sung about in public? What did the audience think?"Can any of you sing?" she asked softly? "We could have a song tomorrow."
”Not well enough for this venue,” Tymythy murmured, as songs had little martial value if one were not a skald. He did wonder at the purpose of this particular song. The only one about the competitors thus far, he reckoned, or at least the first one he had spotted. Would there be more to follow, about the other challengers’ exploits? Or were the twins so well known it was natural to sing their praise? Or was this another warning in disguise, or a veiled message to Cairee?
Arnie and Mar sat and enjoyed their tribute song as they drank and received salutes from the crowd.
The lake was dark. No sign of Khol could be seen as the side of the mountain flashed with lightning. Occasionally, the sight of the other orcs were shown as they waited, wounded but with temporary bandaging, at an arch with a door set inside.
The guests watched with anticipation but to pass the time people of Hallwn's order and guests for his birthday stood forward and told tales and stories of ghosts and people past.
After The Ballad of Splitheel Hill one of the Arishallshamis Uyar, the high elves with the strange wood and canvas masks, came close to one of the fires. The mask was still on but, as each was particular, Zahra thought this elf was named Kneelha.
Kneelha began her droning chant.
"Once, in a land of desolation, lived a great man of invention in a tower of impossible height. Silver grey and needle-like was this tower and, in height, was said to rival mountains. Built in the lonely lands to ensure its' privacy, to ensure his isolation.
"The inventor's name was Awnsew. All who knew him said he was wise and beautiful. Such were his talents and intellect that about his head formed a nimbus of light which made him more beautiful still.
"During his long life Awnsew invented many things but his final invention was his greatest and most terrible. For in his tower he had developed a series of lenses that once aligned reflected light upon itself so that it acted like a mirror. That mirror amplified the mind and power of he that looked upon it. As Awnsew continued to perfect his invention so did it amplify him. Every new iteration provided him insight to make a better mirror. Every better mirror new insight.
"He grew in power and wisdom faster and faster. His light brighter and brighter.
"But power is not infinite. A pillar too tall will collapse upon itself. This is what happened to Awnsew. So great and powerful had he become that he collapsed in upon himself leaving only a hole in his shape. Awnsew became Ohssenway a creature of unquenchable hunger.
"Ohssenway in his desperate need called his brothers from afar and one by one they came to visit him curious at what new wonder he had wrought. One by one they climbed the tower. One by one they were drawn into the hole, the dense sucking void of his visage. He fed upon brother and uncle, sister and friend. He watched helplessly unable to stop his hunger.
"Finally, Ohssenway's young nephew, who was named Henyeb, came unannounced. The young man had received word from others that his family had been disappearing and came to seek advice. Henyeb, however, was a monk and hermit and knew nothing of mirrors.
"When he came upon the lenses of Ohssenway and saw his own reflection he took it for an illusion and lashed out. The lenses shattered and exploded with such force that slivers were cast throughout the desolate land.
"Ohssenway was never seen again."
Kneelha bowed to the fire and retreated to the other guests.
A series of seven lightning flashes lit up the lake.
The image of the orcs waiting patiently at the top of the mountain could be seen side-by-side with the image of the mountainside. The later moved closer and closer to the mountain and movement could be seen.
Khol was on a steep and winding path with her clothes beating backwards in the harsh winds. She had taken her belts off and lashed them together and she leaned into the weather. At the other end of the belts, being dragged on the trail behind, was the unconscious body of Batbayar. His left arm was clearly dislocated and a bone was protruding from the shin of his left leg.
That's when a great shadow passed overhead.
Khol saw it, dived towards her burden and rolled him sideways into the lea of a stone. She only barely stood up when the scorpion-like tail of the wyvern scraped across her back. She fell forward to her hands and knees. She tried to balance herself. White foam formed in her mouth.
Lightning struck the mountain!
The shadow returned and Khol got to her feet. She began crawling up the mountain leaving her charge behind. The wyvern got closer as it dived at her, the side of its' face torn, horrible wounds on its' back.
Khol looked over her shoulder ... and smiled.
When she stood all could see through the dark that she was under a lonely tree. The wyvern reached to grab her. She closed her eyes.
It struck the tree and the wyvern and passed through Khol into the cold stone. The creature collapsed dead. Khol's body went still.
Time passed in the darkness. Then a hand reached up and broke a tree limb. Batbayar formed it into a crutch and splint. He removed his weapon from the fallen wyvern and cut from it a talon. Then he lifted Khol to his right shoulder effortlessly. His walk up the winding path was not effortless. It would be a long climb and he was moving slow. The light in the lake dimmed.
The High Elf's story of Awnsew and the mirror sounded a lot like 'Fable of Gabwiun the Unfortunate Burglar', a popular children's tale. It was supposed to warn against hubris, but Cairee had always felt bad for the Burglar, who was unlikely to have survived the shattering lens, but whose fate was never mentioned. She was sad to learn the elf's version also made no mention of Henyeb, or mourned his probable death.
Cairee watched with the crowd, feeling useless as Khol struggled to drag the unconscious body of her companion up the mountain. She held her breath, waiting for the Wyvern's certain return. Still, when the dark shadow past overhead, the cleric gasped and clutched Zahra's hand for support.
Khol crawled towards a tree as the Wyvern dove. Surely they were about to witness the death of these souls. Lightning crashed, and Cairee saw what Khol saw - Batbayar's bladed glove stuck in the beast's back. But why was Khol smiling? CRASH! Lightning hit the tree, passing through the Orc and Wyvern. Both fell. "The glove was a conduit! It killed the wyvern!"
Cairee was in awe of Khol's fast thinking. There was much to learn from this woman's strength, determination, and loyalty to her team. The cleric regretted she hadn't made an effort to get to know The Bonds of Gruumsh, had never spoken with this remarkable player.
Cairee said a prayer for what she thought was the final resting place of two fine Orcs. She was about to turn away, when Batbayar rose! She cheered with the crowd as the warrior lifted Khol and slowly made his way up the mountain.
Zahra looked surprised when Dounia asked about them singing and coming up with a song. That seemed very difficult to the sorceress. "I've never sung in front of people so I don't know if I can sing or not. Best not to try it here. But if we can come up with a song then maybe we can convince someone to sing it for us?" Her eyes flicked towards Cairee's siblings as the song was sung.
Her eyes widened and she leaned over to whisper to the others, "They don't look like they're enjoying the song like they should. It's almost like the song brings up a bad memory."[/b]
As Kneelha got up to speak, Zahra leaned in to hear what she would say and gave her an encouraging smile. When she had finished and taken her bow, Zahra clapped her hands in appreciation.
Lightning flashes drew Zahra' attention to the viewing screen along with most others. She wanted to cheer when she saw that Khol had found her teammate. That seemed like a feat in itself but now to be dragging him up the mountain, it was impressive.
When the shadow passed, Zahra tensed and her hands flew up to cover her eyes. She spread her fingers apart so that she could watch even though part of her didn't want to. When Khol was about to be grabbed by the wyvern, Zahra couldn't take it anymore and she buried her face in the nearest shoulder of her friends and grabbed their arm. She couldn't bear to look until she heard the crowd beginning to positively respond.
Zahra was happy to hear Cairee say the wyvern was dead but still couldn't bring herself to look. She mumbled from where her face was covered, "What about the orcs?"
Her eyes widened and she leaned over to whisper to the others, "They don't look like they're enjoying the song like they should. It's almost like the song brings up a bad memory."
”Your eyes see deeper than mine,” Tymythy murmured back, wondering what the story behind the song was. Cairee could possibly shed light in the matter, but to ask since she decided not to elaborate would be unseemly.
Tymythy’s breath caught as a burst of light swallowed the tree under which, it was now apparent, Khol had lured her prey, rather than fled her enemy. A risky tactic – there could be no telling where a bold from the heavens would strike, after all – but then again, a masterful move was oft a risky gamble that paid off in the end.
And this new sacrifice, after the revelation that Batbayar had, against all odds, actually survived his mighty leap! This was worthy of a skald’s ballad if ever had Tymythy lived through to see one.
Her eyes widened and she leaned over to whisper to the others, [b]"They don't look like they're enjoying the song like they should. It's almost like the song brings up a bad memory."[/b
Cairee looked back at her siblings. To her they seemed their normal selves, revealing in the glory of their conquests. Could Zahra be right? Was there more to the story of the skeleton hoard - something that had hurt them, or caused them shame?
The cleric was so used to being dismissed by her family. Was she guilty of the same sin? Should I ask them? she wondered. Would they tell me?
Dounia watched the twins, but she was so biased against them she couldn't get a read on their emotions. She just hated them because they were jerks to Cairee. Who cared what they thought anyway?
"I read that one! Well, Cyra read it to me. But it was the tale of the sorcerer's son. Weird."
Dounia caught a glimpse of something from the dragony thing's back. "His glove is sticking out of it!" She shuddered - that probably hurt. Then lightning hit the glove! That DEFINITELY hurt. "Oh no! Is she dead? She looks dead..."
Then the other orc was up again! "Oh!" Dounia cried out, laughing and crying at the same time. "Oh, brave!" As the orc moved out of sight, she said, "They may get zero for time, but they better get full marks for grit and teamwork!!"
The orcs would finish, it will take Batbayar hours to climb the long footpath up the mountain but they will finish. A strange mood swing rippled over the crowd watching the lake in two camps. There was a wave of relief that the current danger for The Bonds of Gruumsh was over. People began to move about and dance to new music being played (for the band started up again). For them the tension of the day was over.
The second group seemed to find the moment somehow tedious. The orcs were about to die, perhaps all of them, but death was cheated. A competitor, even a trailing one, was still in the game. They would still have to be considered a threat. They would still be a factor going forward.
The woman who led the Bygdydans the following evening walked slowly over to Tymythy, "Your friends as going to make it through. Are you not pleased? Is it not worth a revel?" She held out a folded scarf and it was clear she meant to take him to the dance floor.
-
With the spectacle changing and people milling to discuss simpler things, Cairee, mind daydreaming about her siblings, heard a voice from behind her.
"Henyeb. Many of my people believe this is a bastardization of Deneb, our patron."
She turned to see Ila, the elven judge that she had spoken to on the first day.
-
Iolantha, the horned red-skinned woman from Hallwn's high table, was staring at Dounia through the crowd. She had no glass, no plate, and no company.
-
Prem had left Zahra's side to get more drinks and the two women of the, now forfeited, dwarven team flanked her right and left.
Grownya Lar, who's voice was like an unoiled hinged, "Is it true? The rumour?"
Roshynduv Gemaylan who spoke in deep tones with what was like a singer's voice, "We've only just heard. You are touched my dragon ancestrage? I've made it a study of mine to learn about the wyrm and the linorrum. Grownya here is a student of the arcane."
Grownya, "A drake of silver scales, they say."
Roshynduv, "Keep in mind we had to do a fair bit of uncouth prying to learn that much."
Dounia, catching Iolantha watching her, decided to go talk to her. She grabbed a plate and piled it high with sweets, then took two glasses of something clear and bubbly, and made her way through the crowds to the red-skinned woman. "Would you like some desserts?" she asked, handing her a glass and hoping it wasn't presumptuous of her to approach a friend of their host like this.
"Would you like some desserts?"
Iolantha, ”Well, the sheep’s eyes aren’t that great but with a little …” She held up one of the glasses ”sparkling orange, they’re not bad.” she smiled wryly.
Dounia grinned with delight when she saw the other woman's clever sleight-of-hand. Wait, what do I do now? Take it? Acknowledge it? Try to open it? Ignore it?
Iolnatha's expression gave nothing away, so Dounia decided to show off. Reaching onto the plate, she delicately picked up the little box while palming an almond cake, then switched them in her hand as she raised it to her mouth, ending up holding the cake between her finger and thumb to bite it. "I find most eyes to be too squishy for my taste, but these little beetle bites are just delightful." She ate the almond cake and transferred the box to her other hand.
Zahra looked from Grownya to Roshynduv and back again. She was uncertain as to why they had sought her out considering she hadn't seen them since Loo's memorial.
The sorceress' initial confusion quickly melted away when they mention her ancestry and she gave them a warm smile. Zahra's mother's warnings about sharing her magical abilities were completely forgotten after spending days in such a fantastical environment as Hallwn's birthday. Magic seemed like the most natural thing in the world here. So when they questioned her about her dragon heritage, Zahra freely shared with them.
Zahra laughed lightly at their mention of uncouth prying. "You could have just asked. I guess I can confirm the rumour then. I am a descendent of Silimiel, who was a great silver dragon." Surprisingly, tears pricked Zahra's eyes, "He passed away not long ago."
"I'm curious as to what led you down this path. Is my heritage important to your studies? You said you've studied and learned about the wyrm and the linorrum. Do you know of Silimiel? Can you tell me about him?"
The woman who led the Bygdydans the following evening walked slowly over to Tymythy, "Your friends as going to make it through. Are you not pleased? Is it not worth a revel?" She held out a folded scarf and it was clear she meant to take him to the dance floor.
”It is worth witnessing,” Tymythy corrected, diverting his attention from the orcs’ struggle for the moment to the woman addressing him. ”And so I shall, until their quest is done. One danger has been survived, but that is no excuse for dropping one’s guard, as another may be lurking in the shadows. Until they emerge victorious or fall to their fates, I will watch them. It is the only honour I can give them, and they have earned it.”
He hoped his words didn’t sound too harsh – the woman like most of the guests was likely a draughter of a different kind of world than he and the orcs. It would be childish of him to expect her to see the world as he did... yet to do just so was so very easy.
”No disrespect intended,” he added, giving the woman a deep nod of his head. ”I would be bad sport until the challengers return. Later, perhaps?”
”For I would appreciate the guidance – I fancy myself a decent enough dancer, but the steps and the tempos of the dances I have seen here are much different to those of my homeland. I would be my pleasure, and honour, to learn,” he added, taking a closer look at the woman and finally recognizing her as the one who led the dance competition last night, and had danced to the skald’s tune about the Steelheart twins.
Besides, in this place, dancing had taken a form he had only dreamt of, as Tymythy recalled the strange giantess who had protected them when the fae intruded on the funeral procession, and with words and graceful movement conjured magics and marvels worthy of heroic epochs. It was always humbling to be reminded that there was whole world to still learn, and so many things far beyond one’s ability to ever achieve.
Guest and disciples alike came forward to fires lit about the arena as the musicians played in the background. Drinks flowed freely as negotiations passed slyly from one person to another concerning who would be spending the night with whom. In the lake, Batbayar continued to climb the slow and winding path in the storm. He showed no sign of slowing. Guests passed the time by sharing stories of horror and fear as both visitor and disciple alike came forward to some fire and spoke.
”No disrespect intended,” he added, giving the woman a deep nod of his head. ”I would be bad sport until the challengers return. Later, perhaps?”
”For I would appreciate the guidance – I fancy myself a decent enough dancer, but the steps and the tempos of the dances I have seen here are much different to those of my homeland. I would be my pleasure, and honour, to learn,”
The woman had turned to walk away but quickly turned back, ”You almost had me believing I had lost my powers of persuasion.” She handed Tymythy one end of the folded scarf and led him to and empty space where people could stand around them and watch. ”keep the pace of the dance and don’t let go. No matter what.”
The band began playing a walking song. The song had a slow pace but after a frame repeated itself and a minutely quickened tempo. The woman had wide hips and powerful legs giving her an impossibly low centre of gravity as she pulled the the scarf taut and began to dance.
With one smooth motion she did a twist into the scarf, bumped Tymythy and uncoiled, pushing Tymythy back until the scarf went taut again.
... she delicately picked up the little box while palming an almond cake, then switched them in her hand as she raised it to her mouth, ending up holding the cake between her finger and thumb to bite it ... She ate the almond cake and transferred the box to her other hand.
Iolanthe moved around to Dounia's left side and put her hand on the young girls shoulder. She pinched it a little, not hurtfully. With a very serious expression, "It's good to know one's own stomach."
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"I'm curious as to what led you down this path. Is my heritage important to your studies? You said you've studied and learned about the wyrm and the linorrum. Do you know of Silimiel? Can you tell me about him?"
Roshynduv looked surprise and couldn't hide it. She didn't seem to expect Zahra to be so open. "Your heritage is curious to me, not so much 'important'. I've studied dragons because they have been an ancient enemy to my people. So I know very little about the so called 'Meatailit' dragons, or ore'd dragons. Silvered, Golden, or bronze and copper. I know more about the 'Dath'-drakes or hue dragons. Red, Black, and such.
"How did this split begin? Why do the metals tend towards the protection of life and the hued dragons fall to avariciousness and malcontent? This is a mystery. Are there no well-willed green, or white creatures of their race.
"Yet, each has their power invested in the other races. Like you, blood of, what was it 'Salimiel'. No, I'm not familiar with the name.
"I do know enough about dragons to answer more general questions."
-
Grownya didn't waste any time either, "I'm a Deep Marshal. I get my skills from attunement to tradition and to the particular nature of certain weapons. The great axe knows how to cleave. The long pick knows how to pierce. The warhammer knows how to crush. From that I can make effects happen. Tradition is the bridge between me and arcane magic.
"But you. You can make missiles of pure force or launch ice from nothingness through the power of your own blood. Your blood is your bridge.
"WHat does it feel like? Every time I manifest an effect I can feel a deep sense of dept to my ancestors. I stand on their bones. Your power comes from inside you. It must feel very powerful."
The woman looked at Tymythy seriously, "Come dance with me. I promise you your friends in the lake are safe from danger. It is only a matter of time before they return and they will not be insulted that you strayed from the lake.
"What I know of that family is they do not waste time on courtesy, only respect, and they will not find it disrespectful if trust in their return.
"But you must choose. I ask you to dance now. Honour them in this way, dance for them. For the dance won't be easy ... I promise you."
Dounia was both delighted and furious that the box had been taken from her without her noticing. She didn't know what Iolanthe had done with the box - was it in a hand, or a pocket? Dounia ate the jelly and decided to try for a pocket. She took a honey-bun and immediately dripped honey. She caught it with her other hand, and used the movement to try for the nearest pocket. But it was a clumsy attempt and she knew it.
Iolanthe saw the attempt and moved her body to the right as she spun on her heal.
She grabbed the honey-bun in the air, drew out a chocolate'd snail and began to juggle the two. Then suddenly the box was in the mix of juggled objects.
She was getting a little smug as she did another spin bumping into a porter - it left an opening.
Dounia saw the opening - Iolanthe got a bit cocky, and bumped a porter. Feeling very smug herself, Dounia took a date cookie and threw it into the mix, intending to join the juggle and grab the box. Instead, her cookie collided with the box, and both box and cookie ended up on the floor.
Hiding her panic with a giggle, Dounia doubled down and tried to fix her error. She bumped the porter on purpose with a skinny hip, knocking a glass off his tray. She dove for it, catching it before it hit the ground, and swept up the box from the ground with her other hand, pushing it up her sleeve and balancing it on her forearm.
Iolanthe looked around and hoped no one important saw the mess she and Dounia had just made. Two amateur mistakes in a row. And then a clumsy attempt at a fake trip on one of the porters. Why? To make the porter look clumsy to? She was done. The game was over. She'll just pick up the box and be on her ... wait a minute ... where's the box?
She stood up and looked at Dounia. The side of her mouth pulled back towards her ear. "It's yours. Use the contents when you need to."
"How did this split begin? Why do the metals tend towards the protection of life and the hued dragons fall to avariciousness and malcontent?
Zahra shrugged, "I'm no scholar but what you've said makes sense. I have met someone linked to a red dragon and I have met a silver dragon. They were like night and day, yet I don't know why."
"I do know enough about dragons to answer more general questions."
Zahra looked thoughtful, "Do you know what weaknesses the different types of dragons have? And if someone meant to do evil, why would they want something that belonged to a good dragon?"
--
Tradition is the bridge between me and arcane magic.
The sorceress looked fascinated, "That's really cool. Sounds like a lot of hard work to learn such a rich tradition."
Your blood is your bridge.
"WHat does it feel like? Every time I manifest an effect I can feel a deep sense of dept to my ancestors. I stand on their bones. Your power comes from inside you. It must feel very powerful."
Zahra beamed, "I like that! My blood is my bridge. Thinking of it like that makes me feel even more connected."
At Grownya's next question, the sorceress chuckles, "I feel very much what you feel. My power may come from inside me but I also feel my ancestry. It's almost like I can channel a very, very small part of Silimiel. As for feeling powerful, doesn't all magic make one feel powerful? However, I like to think I feel more helpful than powerful when I use magic."
"... I have met someone linked to a red dragon and I have met a silver dragon. They were like night and day, yet I don't know why."
Grownya, "Someone linked to a red dragon? A living dragon?!"
"Do you know what weaknesses the different types of dragons have? And if someone meant to do evil, why would they want something that belonged to a good dragon?"
Roshynduv, "Weaknesses? A dragon? The scales of a dragon are nearly impenetrable. As much on the belly as on the back, despite rumours to the contrary.
"Each dragon has their sign. Both golden dragons and red dragons are under the fire sign, for example. Do not look to harm a wyrm with fire, or any sort of heat, if it was born under the fire sign. And don't imagine a fire sign is hurt more by its' opposing sign of cold.
"You can't put a dragon to sleep. You can't paralyze a dragon.
"Dragons are highly resistant to magic, the more so the older they get.
"They aren't the most agile of flyers but they're fast in the air and can cross four hundred feet in the span of six heartbeats without trying hard.
"The only weakness I've ever heard of is weakness of character. They tend towards extreme personalities, Dragons. They are avaricious or proud or spiteful. Some can't imagine a creature stronger or smarter than themselves and in that there is a kind of weakness.
"But you talk like you're in congress with dragons. Like dragons are alive an about you. We haven't heard of a living dragon since before the travel accords with Halidor were signed. Who means to do evil? What part of a, so called 'good', dragon do they have?"
--
"I feel very much what you feel. My power may come from inside me but I also feel my ancestry. It's almost like I can channel a very, very small part of Silimiel. As for feeling powerful, doesn't all magic make one feel powerful? However, I like to think I feel more helpful than powerful when I use magic."
Grownya, "I don't - feel powerful, I mean. I feel there is power about me and I am asking it to reveal itself but I don't feel like it's coming from me.
"But you are your blood. Your blood is you. It isn't a coat you wear. I can never really know but it must feel different."
Dounia couldn't help a grin, and bowed deeply to Iolanthe. "Thanks for the dance!"
She turned to the porter and apologized. "I'm unbearably clumsy sometimes. My apologies. For your troubles," she added, and gave them a gold coin from her pocket.
She looked around to find Cairee and moved to be with her. "Look what I got! I won it, I think." She turned the little box over in her hands, trying to figure out how it opened.
Dounia turned the box around in her hands. At first glance, it was clearly made of various types of wood and it was very light. Each surface has intricate inlay work in a bizarre set of clashing patterns. It wasn't as long as her palm , about two thirds as wide and was half as thick as it was wide.
"But you must choose. I ask you to dance now. Honour them in this way, dance for them. For the dance won't be easy ... I promise you."[/b]
Tymythy hesitated. The dancer’s plea was certainly convincing. He did stop for a moment at her promise that the orcs’ troubles were at the end. Was she just saying it to further goad him, or was she in a position to know? But, truth to tell, her phrasing her invitation as a challenge in itself was making it hard for him to ignore it.
”You know this, do you?” he asked seriously, but then sighed and bowed to her, and continued in a lighter tone. ”Very well, if you do not take insult in me dancing with you but for them, I shall be in your care.”
With one smooth motion she did a twist into the scarf, bumped Tymythy and uncoiled, pushing Tymythy back until the scarf went taut again.
Tymythy followed the woman to the floor, accepting his end of the scarf that now connected the two partners. After merely a few paces, the band began to accompany them, casting further light that there was some hidden purpose to goading him into this play... but the time to fruitlessly try to figure out their host’s motives was for later. Now, the quickening pace and the anticipation of a challenge to come was making his heart match its beat to the band’s tune.
For the first few beats Tymythy did his best to follow and mirror the woman’s movements, but to his surprise there were familiar aspects to the dance. The music was strange, the scarf an esoteric accessory, but put a practice spear in his hand and these steps could be from a ritual spear dance to honor the spirits and a clan’s ancestors on a special holy night... and there was also something of a young maiden’s cavorting around the maypole in the almost seductive movements.
Promise of violence, mixed with promise or certain other activities. A celebration of death and life in one dance. She may have hidden things from him, but she hadn’t lied. This would be a challenge. And an opportunity.
After a few more exchanged with the woman leading, Tymythy felt he had grasped the basic pattern enough to for him to start being her partner, not merely a bull led by the nose to the pastures. His booted feet flowed lightly over the pavement as the pair gyrated around each other, coming at each other only to dodge and weave around each other, never quite touching but coming closer with every cycle of the pattern.
As his confidence grew and his skin began to glisten with perspiration he found himself smiling. In a place full of alien magic and unfathomable customs, this touch of something familiar was a gift. And speaking of gifts...
As the pair danced around the floor he noticed they passed one of the dozens flower arrangements dotting the gossamer house Tymythy’s free hand flicked out, snatching something from the bouquet. He quickly stepped towards his partner, again passing without touching... yet somehow, as if by magic, there was now a single yellow jasmine flower delicately set in the woman’s hair.
”It suits you,” he whispered with a smile.