Lunch was a light open buffet served off a large platter in the dining room - a selection of unspiced meats and vegetables with a few pieces of fruit and some dipping sauces of blended cucumber or mashed chickpea and garlic.
After which there were a few hours to relax then prepare for the coach.
"Please sit down. I have a little matter to discuss with you. I would have mentioned this to the young one but she does seem a little too of an age and calling all three of you here might be too much of an announcement to Zahra." Once you've both had a chance to find a seat she continues, "Zahra ... she is a remarkable talent. She will be powerful one day and maybe exceed me. But. But her head is in the clouds. Do you hear her speak about the wonders of the theatre, of her lovely and virtuous city, of suitors? She knows enough to keep herself hidden but she doesn't understand the world. You must promise me to stay close. Stay near and watch out for predators. Where we are going isn't a playground ... it's a lair. I hope you understand me." Haseena looked more to Tymythy than to Cairee.
When the coach finally arrived it parked out front. It was highly polished wood of deep red with a black underbelly. Lanterns sat at the four corners, Othman was in his simple livery and sat in the high driver's seat, and two large appaloosa were rigged to the front waiting patiently.
Inside was meant to seat four comfortably so three of you were crammed in a little tight on one side.
As the carriage rocked into motion Haseena held out a small purse. "Zahra, perhaps you can hold onto this. I'm afraid you cannot take your weapons into the opera house unless you have a considerable rank. Here open it ... Master Tymythy, cork your spear." She handed the young warrior a rough piece of cork. "Place it inside." Remarkably the entire spear disappeared within. "It won't fit a crossbow, but perhaps an unstrung bow. As long as it can clear the opening of the purse. A dagger or even a sword. Make sure it is scabbarded lest you pierce the bag from within. I made this many years ago. It's yours now."
The carriage moved through the bottom of what is the wealthiest district of Zhayalahmar. Other carriages, festooned with banners and dripping with footman, joined Haseena's in a short line within five minutes of travel as they rode under alcoves of twelve to sixteen story mansions with crowns of minarets and painted domes.
The alcove was wide enough the support two wagons passing each other with room for people on foot, and was away from the ever-present sun. The four lanterns at the coach's corners were lit to add to the light of gas lanterns along the walls.
Haseena looked a little uncomfortable.
After a few minutes the carriage came to a guards station and an archway half the width of the street. Othman stopped behind a few other carriages and waited his turn with the guards, a process of stops and starts that took nearly thirty minutes. As you all reached second in line Haseena addressed you, "Passage under the wall can be quite unpleasant for some, especially on their first crossing. As we pass the terminus I want you to sit forward and clench you stomach muscles. I promise it helps a little."
The carriage move forward and stopped as Othman handed over papers to the guards. You could hear him answer their questions.
"The theatre district ... the Royal Nasri ... Dame Haseena Harmattan and her charge and three guests ... returning tonight."
The carriage started up smoothly and entered the smaller tunnel with the lights of the last carriage nearly at the tunnel's far end.
As you reached the half-way point there was a brass plaque on the wall indicating exact centre. "Here it comes....", Haseena leaned forward and closed her eyes.
As the carriage rocked into motion Haseena held out a small purse...
Cairee was amazed to see Tymythy's long spear disappear into such a tiny object. She had no weapons - instead she pulled at the small pouch concealed within her cloak. "Is it okay to hang onto this? Or should it be tucked away in that as well?"
The carriage started up smoothly and entered the smaller tunnel with the lights of the last carriage nearly at the tunnel's far end.
As you reached the half-way point there was a brass plaque on the wall indicating exact centre. "Here it comes....", Haseena leaned forward and closed her eyes.
Cairee's heart was in her throat. Would the midnight city cut off her connection to Saiph? If so, would she know right away? Haseena's request swirled in her mind. She wasn't sure how useful she could be to Zahra under the best of circumstances, never mind with her power stripped.
She saw Haseena lean forward, and did the same, clenching her stomach muscles. A wave of ice washed over her and she shuddered violently. Haseena was right. They'd just entered a lair. Cairee wasn't looking forward to meeting its inhabitants.
”You must promise me to stay close. Stay near and watch out for predators. Where we are going isn't a playground ... it's a lair. I hope you understand me." Haseena looked more to Tymythy than to Cairee.
”I will try my best, Mistress,” Tymythy replied seriously. ”I admit I am out of my elements, and I may well take what passes for mere interest here for hostility, but I promise that I will look after Zahra, and do everything in my power to keep her safe. Of that, you need not worry.” The real issue would be how many enemies Tymythy’s overeager guardianship would create, as he knew he was very far from understanding the ways of this strange society and was likely to stomp mightily on many a toe in any effort to mingle with the rich and powerful, but he decided it might be best not to add to Haseena’s worries.
Cairee was amazed to see Tymythy's long spear disappear into such a tiny object. She had no weapons - instead she pulled at the small pouch concealed within her cloak. "Is it okay to hang onto this? Or should it be tucked away in that as well?"
Tymythy watched with wide-eyed amazement as his spear disappeared into the tiny little pouch. It was enough to even make him forget the Incident with the Barber that had had him fuming as he stalked into the coach from the manor.
It was something Othman had saved for the last moment, apparently guessing how Tymythy might take the last part of his disguise. Long braids, apparently, were not in fashion among the local officer corps, and while there was little the multi-talented steward could do about the hair shaved off around Tymythy’s ears he had suggested, reasoned and finally insisted that the clansman allowed him to unbind the warrior’s braid. Tymythy had fought tooth and nail, but in the end had had no choice but to sit down and bite his lip as Othman unwound the braid and tucked the dark brown locks under a cap matching his officer’s uniform. Yet… the very particular way it had been braided, the iron ring wound into it – he had yet to have time to acquire a silver ring to match the iron one, in place of the one the slavers had stolen – it was a very important aspect of his culture, the mark of an adult, bloodied young man choosing to walk the warrior’s way. To appear in public without it was… wrong. Yet he knew he’d stand out way too much already, with his outlandish ways to take the risk of adding one more thing that screamed “outsider” to anyone with eyes to see.
"Passage under the wall can be quite unpleasant for some, especially on their first crossing. As we pass the terminus I want you to sit forward and clench you stomach muscles. I promise it helps a little."
As he was under no illusions he’d know better Tymythy followed Haseena’s orders to a letter, but was still visibly startled as he felt himself passing an invisible barrier, shivering from head to toe.
Cairee was amazed to see Tymythy's long spear disappear into such a tiny object. She had no weapons - instead she pulled at the small pouch concealed within her cloak. "Is it okay to hang onto this? Or should it be tucked away in that as well?"
Haseena looked the pouch over, "These are items of a mostly religious significance? They won't be confiscated but don't flaunt them. You may meet clerics of opposing gods, servants of the five. They won't appreciate you calling on the aid of an elvish luminary and may try to undo your good work."
Zahra felt like royalty once she was in her gown and her hair was done and jewelry donned. She glided towards the carriage practically giddy with excitement.
She held out her hands to take the purse that Haseena passed to her. She was happy enough with the purse to go with her outfit but when she witnessed Tymythy's spear disappear into it, she smiled in wonder. She turned it back and forth and turned it around in her hands, "This is absolutely amazing! I've never seen anything like it." She looked at Haseena with new found wonder, "You made this? And you're giving it to me?" She threw her arms around Haseena without thinking about propriety, "Thank you! You are so generous! The best day of my life was the day that Mother brought me to your door. I would be so lost and scared without your care."
"Passage under the wall can be quite unpleasant for some, especially on their first crossing. As we pass the terminus I want you to sit forward and clench you stomach muscles. I promise it helps a little."
There were so many questions in Zahra's mind as Haseena mentions unpleasantness. What kind of unpleasantness? Would it hurt? What if she reacted poorly?
Even though they hadn't reached the passage yet, Zahra already tightened her stomach muscles and leaned forward slightly in preparation. When Haseena gave the final warning, she squeezed her abdominal muscles as hard as she could and leaned forward more, almost bumping Cairee's head.
Zahra felt the temperature drop drastically and gasped as it seemed like someone had poured a barrel of ice water over her head. She had been finding lately that she didn't mind the cold so much but this was unlike anything she had experienced before. She began to shake uncontrollably and seemed unable to stop.
Pass
Dounia grinned in delight at the magical pouch. She'd read of such things, of course. In fact, they were near-staples in any good tale. Still, she'd never seen one before, and she immediately stuck her hand in right up to the elbow. The pouch was small enough that her hand should have punched right through the bottom, but it did not. Laughing, she said, "I can feel the spear, and your dagger, and even the fabric inside, but not the bottom! Look!" She pushed her arm in farther, right up to the armpit, so it looked like her arm was gone altogether. "Wonderful! Can you show me how to sew one of these?"
**
Dounia stared through the window of the carriage, her eyes wide with envy. The riches of the district, of their carriage, of the other carriages...it was too much for the pauper princess. Her fingers twitched at her sides - it had been two days since she'd dared pick a pocket or liberate a treasure. Her respect, and to be honest, fear, of Haseena had kept her honest. But as she stared at the riches around her, she felt envy take root in that dark spot in her heart.
A footman stood near the window, the golden tassel of his hat limp in the heat. Dounia stared at it, coveting it. As a result, she didn't hear Haseena's warning at all.
The sensation was sudden, shocking, and completely terrifying. Dounia screamed as she felt the....the blade? the wire? It was as if a strand of spider's silk -- keen as a dagger's edge but strong and straight as a steel rod -- was slicing down her body - straight from top to toe, as if trying to separate her front from her back. The sensation ended as quickly as it began, but the girl screamed again, certain she'd been killed.
Her hands flew to her head, her sides, her back - she patted herself obsessively, checking for blood, but there was none. Cyra's voice in her mind, Of course there's no blood, if that had been real you'd be dead, carved neatly in half, but the rest of her mind was screaming too loud to listen.
Weeping, ruining her eye makeup completely, Dounia cried out, "What was that? What happened?" Her hands were shaking...no...her entire body was quaking with fear.
She threw her arms around Haseena without thinking about propriety, "Thank you! You are so generous! The best day of my life was the day that Mother brought me to your door. I would be so lost and scared without your care."
Haseena looked stiff at Zahra's embrace. She had initiated a hug when they met two days ago but after that time Haseena touching anyone strikes you all as more and more extraordinary. She stole a glance at Tymythy as if to say 'this is what I meant'.
"I can feel the spear, and your dagger, and even the fabric inside, but not the bottom! Look!" She pushed her arm in farther, right up to the armpit, so it looked like her arm was gone altogether. "Wonderful! Can you show me how to sew one of these?"
As Dounia started feeling for the spear the spear was there, the same for the dagger. Whatever she thought of suddenly seemed to be on top and within reach. Haseena spoke patiently, "How to sew one of these? Could you part with some of your core essence? You should keep all of it inside you I think?"
Weeping, ruining her eye makeup completely, Dounia cried out, "What was that? What happened?" Her hands were shaking...no...her entire body was quaking with fear.
Haseena shook as she tried to calm Dounia, "Breath Dounia, breath. It is the terminus between the two cities. It does not effect everybody the same way and it is easier the more you traverse it. If you look at the ohter carriages you would notice children do not cross the terminus." Haseena became thoughtful. "I have always wondered why one doesn't feel the same feeling when they enter the city."
Weeping, ruining her eye makeup completely, Dounia cried out, "What was that? What happened?" Her hands were shaking...no...her entire body was quaking with fear.
Cairee took Dounia's hands, trying to offer what comfort she could. She reached out for Saiph, partly to make sure the God was still with her, and partly to see if any of Saiph's strength could help calm the trembling thief.
Cairee felt Saiph's power reach through her to Dounia. She couldn't tell if it did anything to help, but still she was tremendously relieved. They're still connected!
Haseena became thoughtful. "I have always wondered why one doesn't feel the same feeling when they enter the city."
It was odd. Cairee turned around, staring out the back of the carriage. They were still in the tunnel, just passed the halfway mark. She focused on the the threshold between the daylight and midnight city, hoping to see something about the magic that separated the two.
Cairee looked out of the window and back towards the mid-point of the tunnel. As she reached out to Saiph muttering a prayer and putting out her hands in supplication a moving mosaic of light like a fire pressed between two panes of glass appeared to her. It was like a razor thin wall that reached across the entire width and height of the tunnel, as well as into the walls ceiling and floor for as far as she could reach with her vision.
Before she could get a better sense of the make-up of that aura it disappeared in the distance.
Dounia felt the comforting warmth she was coming to associate with Cairee and her wonderful spells. It helped a little, but it still took another minute for her to get her trembling under control.
As she felt herself calm down, Dounia realized that she was the only one who had reacted so extremely. Haseena's comment about children in carriages didn't help. It's only fair. You panicked like a child. How will the others ever see you as royalty if you behave in such a fashion?
Mortified, she turned to the window again, hoping the others wouldn't notice her blinking back tears. At least there was plenty to marvel out, now that they were in Alshafaq
At least there was plenty to marvel out, now that they were in Alshafaq
As they pulled away from the tunnel there was no change in the lighting conditions but if one were to look up they could see an army of stars through the gaps between building tops. These luminaries attended the silver crescent moon and the barely visible cobalt blue moon. About the silver moon hung the three children, the brightest of all the stars. About the blue moon circled the five servants, nearly as bright as the children.
The prayer towers at that very moment began the listless song of six in the afternoon - it should not yet be dark. The sun should be more than an hour from setting.
The buildings here were of the same sort as all Limaninites were accustom. The plastered and tiled walls of high buildings, some twelve to fourteen stories high, looked much like the wealthy district they just came from. One of the differences was there now was a proliferation of gas lit street lamps.
As you looked about the streets you could see pale skinned city goers, large numbers of dwarves, elves of the normal sort and elves both with ghostly white skin and skin of pitch black. There were women and men with no colouring at all, simply shades of grey, and monstrously built humanoids with tusks. A group of three citizens walked past the carriage window and each had horns of different sized and one even had a barbed tail and red skin. For the most part, however, there were the humans of Zhayalahmar, much the same as Dawalnahar - the daylight city.
You must have spent some fifteen minutes watching the street before a galloping horse rides past on the left.
The horses sound spooked and take on a strong speed then suddenly take such a sharp turn to the right that both right wheels lift off the ground a few inches. At full speed Othman has made a square turn into an alley with no more that five feet on either side to spare.
"Quickly get your things out of the bag! Forgive me, I MUST reserve what I can for the opera!", warned Haseena.
You can see the walls of the alley zooming past and then you all lurch forward as the horses make an abrupt stop! A voice began calling out from down the alley before you.
"Ah! Wooondarfull! Our first catch of the day. Vakesh! Googayah! Get the goodies quickly. We have to be on to our next location!"
Cairee couldn't help but gape at the bizarre nighttime sky and myriad of folks walking the too-dark streets. She recognized most of the beings either from her own brief-yet-intense time unintentionally adventuring or from the battle stories of her parents and grandmother. Orcs, Drows, Teiflings, Fetchlings, all seemingly welcome and coexisting in this mostly human town.
Cairee barely has time to gasp as the masked rider appears, trying to bully them off the road. "Look out!" She braces herself with one arm against the door, the other reaching to steady Dounia, still looking pale from the crossing.
"Quickly get your things out of the bag! Forgive me, I MUST reserve what I can for the opera!", warned Haseena.
Cairee had no item to retrieve. She spoke low and urgently to Haseena. "Can I use my ability here? I could make a thick mist to obscure our location, or perhaps slow them down with some fierce weather? I'm afraid I'm not help at physical combat."
She reached into her small clerics pouch and pulled out a crumbled bit of parchment. She held it low and then lifted it up the length of her body, muttering softly, "Htiaf fo dleihs!"
Tymythy glanced out of the carriage’s window once they had passed the mystical barrier and got his first good look at the night sky that had in the span of a single step replaced the unending day. He frowned at the moons and the stars as if the trusted companions of many a nighttime hunt had personally affronted him. Usually, he would like nothing better than to lie down on a grassy hillside and stare at the twinkling lanterns affixed to the firmament, recalling all the stories featuring the birth of this or that constellation, but now, knowing the very sky above them was fake – he had heard Haseena try to explain the phenomenon in greater detail but he simply lacked the necessary knowledge to understand any of it. So he focused on what he could grasp, and that was that the whole thing was unnatural.
As he tired of staring at the traitorous sky he cast his eyes down on the street level, feeling almost numb as yet another chaotic mixture of races and cultures mostly known to him caught his eyes one after another. Elves, at least, he could recognize, the forebearers of magic, and he caught sight of several tusked warriors – orcs were neighbors to the Hlewmylani, honored for their might in battle. But for every single creature he could put a name on, he could spot a dozen he could not name.
"Quickly get your things out of the bag! Forgive me, I MUST reserve what I can for the opera!", warned Haseena.
Tymythy had been too preoccupied the constant flood of strangeness on the streets to notice exactly what had happened, but the equine screams of alarm and the way the carriage suddenly rocked spoke eloquently of danger having found them once again. Then the gloating voice from somewhere ahead confirmed his suspicions. Robbers, then, or another group of people after Zahra, merely wearing the guises of common bandits to hide their true allegiance. But really, it mattered little which of the two guesses came closer to the mark – these people had stopped them and would have to be dealt with – if they were ahead of them they’d be blocking the road, there was no room to turn the carriage around on the narrow street and either having horses hitched to the carriage walk backwards or run over obstacles almost their own height was a task much easier said than accomplished. Thus, they’d have to chase these people away, and preferably do it without ruining their costumes – the true mission still awaited them, and this was a mere obstacle on their path.
Tymythy tossed his feather-decorated shako on the bench and reached for the magical bag hiding his weapons, eager to reclaim his gear if only for a few moments.
Zahra stared out the window of the carriage completely engrossed by what she saw. Alshafaq was so different from the other side of the crossing and yet looked very much the same. However, the perpetual darkness seemed to provide some rarer beings the confidence to walk through the streets because she'd never seen some of the strange beings that were now before her eyes. She found it fascinating and terrifying. She wanted to ask what each creature was but since it seemed like she was the only one that didn't know, she remained silent with her questions dancing around her head.
Haseena's voice brought Zahra out of her reverie and she looked around in confusion. The bag, right, that was her! She upended her purse and all the items came spilling out onto the floor of the carriage.
The strange voices outside the carriage gave her goosebumps. What wrong had she done that trouble consistently followed her? Could she even run in this outfit?
She leaned towards Haseena and whispered, "Are we fighting or are we talking? Can I use magic? What goodies are they after?"
Before the door was thrown open, Zahra used the protective spell that Haseena had taught her considering the revealing dress she was wearing was now leaving her feel exposed and vulnerable. She murmured the arcane words quietly while drawing an invisible protective web around herself in the air.
Dounia stared around in wonder. The sheer variety of the peoples, some of whom she'd never gotten a good look at in real life before. Orcs - full blooded ones! Drow and tielflings, and the grey skinned fetchlings. She'd read stories about them all of course - She particularly loved the tales of the gunslingling fetchling, Zolzi, and her friend, the gnome sorcerer, Fimdi Mountainfury. Cyra preferred the stories of the only full orc in Halidorn, Torgahn, and the Salmagundi Crew.She wondered how many of the peoples around her were famous, either here or back home, and how many were just folk, going about their day.
"Hey! He's cutting the reins!" Her warning came too late, as she was thrown against the side of the carriage as it made a sharp turn.
Weapons were suddenly clattering on the floor. Dounia froze for a moment, then snatched up her dagger. She stared at it a moment, then laid it on the seat beside her and grabbed her bow and quiver instead. It was a matter of seconds to string it, even with her hands trembling. "Do we have to fight? Can't we run?" she whispered.
"Can I use my ability here? I could make a thick mist to obscure our location, or perhaps slow them down with some fierce weather? I'm afraid I'm not help at physical combat."
"Are we fighting or are we talking? Can I use magic? What goodies are they after?"
"Do we have to fight? Can't we run?" she whispered.
Haseena spoke urgently, "Use whatever means are at your disposal! We talk first but we may only be stalling a fight. They will take the carriage and horses if they can and leave us with nothing to defend ourselves - in these streets that could mean our death. I will do what I must but the opera will be demanding for me. Still, better to save ourselves now and meet with my contact another night."
A woman's voice sounded behind the carriage back at the mouth of the alley, "Awww, they must be shy. Don't be shy little gilded flowers ... it's rude! Give up the reigns old man!"
Othman, "They have a chain across the alley before us Madame. There are two in front and it looks like three behind."
Haseena spoke urgently, "Use whatever means are at your disposal! We talk first but we may only be stalling a fight..."
Cairee didn't know what to do. She believed the fear and urgency in Haseena's voice was real. But it went against everything Cairee believed to be in a fight, never mind attacking first.
Othman, "They have a chain across the alley before us Madame. There are two in front and it looks like three behind."
Cairee trembled at the loud clang of metal - it reminded her of the chains she'd been in for the last month. It was almost enough draw a panicked attack out of her. Instead, she took a deep breath. "If we're talking first, then I can lend some confidence to whoever is our spokesperson."
Hands still trembling, Dounia fumbled an arrow and dropped to her knees to find it. Shoving Zahra to the window, she said, "Say something!"
The the first voice, coming from the direction of the chain, called out again, "Someone shut that driver up! Ipernia! Put him to sleep."
Ipernia called out from the back, "Look into my evil eye my pretty!"
Haseena pounded on the ceiling of the carriage, "Don't you dare Othman!"
The two men, they looked to be half-orc, approached from either side and as Haseena yelled they stopped, trying to peer in from a distance. You could all feel the carriage start to reverse slightly and then stop firm. "It's ok Madame. I'm, I'm ok."
Ipernia, "HSSSSS!"
The first voice, "idiot... Well, it looks like I have some people who don't want to come out! We will come in and get personal, it's really best we do this out in the open. Don't worry ... we dont' want to 'hurt' you. We simply have a quota. We'll take only what we need and then be on our merry. I'm sure you understand!" His aerthane was quite good but with a strange accent.
Zahra's heart was pounding in her chest. She almost froze in terror as Dounia pushed her towards the window and told her to say something. What could she possibly say to hardened criminals to make them go away?
She glanced over at Haseena and thought about poor Othman outside and trusted in her natural charm as words began to spill from her mouth. She tried to strike a balance between being non-threatening but also letting them know that they weren't easy targets.
"We don't mean to be rude but we're very late for the Theatre and I've been looking forward to this all day. If we had more time, I would very much like to get to know you so it's not a matter of being shy. This is my first time in Alshafaq and it would be nice to meet those who call the midnight city home. But alas we need to be on our way and it would be very kind of you if you could just let us go because you won't make your quota with us. Me and my friends literally had to kill at least three people and embarrass a whole group of slavers by escaping in order to get here tonight and I really don't want to get any of your blood on this set of clothes."
Tymythy glanced out of a window, weighting his options.
’Carriage. Defensive position, only so many ways in and out… but too cramped. A single firebomb through a window and we’d have to scamper out or get burned, forfeiting all our options. Also, while we can shoot out through the windows nothing prevents the enemy from doing the same, and we have little room to take cover if they choose to try,’ the young hunter thought. ’Also, if Othman loses the reins the horses may get spooked, and that’d spell trouble for us, if the chain is well secured.’
’Could we wait for guards to arrive? Unlikely… these people seem too relaxed to be worried about that. Perhaps they have bribed the local patrols or have distracted them somehow.’ So, no particular reason to expect they could play for time. He might be wrong about that, but he’d have to take his cue from the way the enemies seemed willing to take their time with them.
So. Act, do not react. A lesson oft repeated by the clan’s veteran warriors, and something Tymythy had taken well to heart. Besides, perhaps a show of force would go well with Zahra’s attempt at diplomacy. Killed and embarrassed slavers, eh? Best one of them act the part, in that case. Taking a deep breath to stead himself, Tymythy raised his spear and sword, kicked out the door closest to him and jumped down on the street next to the wagon. He didn’t want to move too far away – in case the others preferred to fight from the wagon he’d want to make sure he wasn’t going to get surrounded, nor lured to extent too far from the point they controlled.
Silently, Tymythy straightened to his full height. Grim and resplendent in his guard officer’s black armor, his long dark hair pillowing in the breeze, lanternlight reflecting from the blades of the spear and sword he held in his hands, the hunter locked gazes with the nearest thug, his eyes inviting the man come and try to take what they were after.
Even in the dim alley light Tymythy could clearly see the three behind the carriage. Two were half-orcs in soft leathers bound at the waist with wide black sashes and carrying heavy cudgels. The woman was dresses in layer upon layer of alternating black and red cottons. Her skin was pale red and there were four small black horns protruding from her red hair. About her body, partially hidden by her cotton clothes, was a bandolier of bones.
The young warrior could also see a hulking silhouette forty feet north of him. He thought he could make out the shape of a machete.
Cairee watched as Tymythy kicked open the carriage door and jumped out, spear and sword at the ready. He looked so confident, like this siege was a minor annoyance that he'd swat down in no time. Cairee wanted to stay in the safety of the carriage until it was all over.
Instead she took a deep breath, opened the side door and slipped out. She stood with her back to the carriage, turned slightly towards the Thug at the back . She tried to channel some of Tymythy's bravery as she met the Thug's eye. Remember Haseena's training. You've got a secret, everyone wants to be you...um...you're powerful, you're bored... She tried to look bored and strong as she stared, ready to defend herself and her friends if anything escalated.
To the north Cairee could see a wire thin elven man in a long leather coat. His skin was the colour of pitch and he looked like the frailest creature she'd ever seen.
Following the others lead, Dounia also slipped out of the carriage. She stood back to back with Cairee, an arrow knocked and ready to fire.
Nope!
Cairee inched towards the back of the carriage as Dounia followed her out. She saw two patches of something shiny and spiky. "Be careful, Othman, they have a trap that could really hurt the horses if the carriage backs up too much."
"... Me and my friends literally had to kill at least three people and embarrass a whole group of slavers by escaping in order to get here tonight and I really don't want to get any of your blood on this set of clothes."
The frail man spoke to the bulky one near him, "embarrassing slavers, I think I'm fallin' for thas wone Yah know Miss, I believe yah about the offin' three peepul. Problem is it's just not enough to keep us from our very important work an' well the theatre will be thar tomorrow night. Whoah, here yah all come. Good to see yah in the night arr. Look at yah, an impressive lot." With the arrow trained on him he reached slowly, and with two fingers, for a flask in an outside breast pocket on his coat and drank. A little shiver went through him, "Ahhh, that's the stoff Take them booys!" As the frail man darted to his left his form began to smear like the air he passed through was made out of paint.
The Thug she was staring down started to move. Cairee cast a quick glance at the night sky. With her left hand she made a fist as if grabbing something out of the air, and then flung it towards her attacker. "Tsrub Mrots!"
One of the cudgel-armed half-bloods stepped close, his stance and the easy grin on his face oozing confidence. Yet he clearly underestimated his opponent – Thrym knew well the length of his spear and as soon as the bandit stepped within his reach he lunged, further extending his reach by following the strike with a step with his right foot, burying the tip of the spear in the half-orc’s muscular chest. The wound was deep, cutting easily through the soft leathers the bandit wore, but his aim was still off – he had hit several inches too far to his left and missed the heart, and the sheer girth of his opponent’s chest made it unlikely the thrust had even pierced his lung. Painful the wound might be, and perhaps enough to make the brute reconsider the merit of continuing the fight, but it was unlikely to prove lethal.
As he recovered from the lunge and regained his stance Tymythy caught a glint of metal on the ground behind the wagon – bent pieces of metal fastened together so one of their four sharpened ends would always point up. Caltrops, and large ones at that. An obstacle for a fighter on foot, although perhaps too large to be casually stepped on. But just the fight side to catch the hoof of something as large as a horse.
As the brute was still flinching from the unexpected attack, Tymythy pressed his advantage. A quick slash with his reverse-gripped curved short at the half-orc’s eyes made him raise his cudgel to block the blow to his vitals, but that was a mere feint – as the bandit’s own weapon and crossed arms momentarily blocked his vision Tymythy stepped close, sliding his hand along the spear’s shaft almost to the blade, then used his shortened reach to strike upwards, seeking to slash the inside of his elbow and the vulnerable muscles and tendons that, once cut, would render his opponent’s weapon arm useless.
Cairee had run out of the carriage hugging its' side and when the thug charged her she hesitated. Her storm burst went to the left of her intended target. The concentrated winds of the storm picked up the caltrops and disbursed them over twice the space they once were.
At that moment Dounia pulled the cleric back and took her place. The young girl looked around her ally and fired a shot at the frail leader, now a blur of movement but still tagged by the arrow enough to draw blood.
The thugs advanced as the woman grabbed her string of bones. She pointed at Tymythy and yelled, "You should better watch your back!" The spear warrior looked behind him to see another half-orc swinging its' club headward ... but something was wrong! The situation didn't smell right and as soon as Tymythy questioned it the attacker disappeared. A witches distraction! He lunged and the spear pierced true, copious amounts of blood gurgled out of the wound. The half-orc lost all colour in his face but didn't fall. He lifted his cudgel, the blood loss left no strength in his arm, and Tymythy swung the attack to one side with his spear.
The other Half-orc looked angry at being denied a swing at the cleric instead swung hard and connected with the desert-born burglar and she could feel her shoulder give way to his club.
The frail leader shouted at the machete-wielding mountainous silhouette, "Well?! Wha' are you waiting for! Gait in thare!"
The human mountain began to growl until the growl turned into a yell!
Zahra climbed past Haseena to go out the door Tymythy exited. "I have to help them. I'll do my best to keep you safe." As she moved, she grabbed her crossbow from where she had stashed it behind a pillow in the carriage.
She wore a pout as she exited, "I'm sad that you couldn't see it in your heart to let us go. There won't be theatre for me tomorrow night. It was tonight or nothing. I really had hoped that you would be more fun than the slavers."
The sorceress didn't have enough time to load her crossbow before the brute of a human began bearing down on Tymythy, and now herself. Therefore, with Haseena's words ringing in her ears about doing whatever possible including magic, she began to murmur arcane words and pointed at the moving mountain releasing a ball of force.
Cairee watched in horror as her spell missed its target and scattered the caltrops. Her attention diverted, she didn't notice the Half-Orc's club until it connected with her shoulder. She sucked in breath and staggered back, pushing into Dounia and causing her to take a step forward.
Her shoulder feeling like it was on fire, Cairee focused on the Half-Orc and tried to send another weather surge his way.
Her heart was pounding. Her blood was rushing in her ears. Dounia's hands were no longer shaking. She was furious. To think, the people of the city called themselves citizens, and her a desert-dwelling savage. In the desert, people took care of each other. Here, they seemed eager to kill each other for gain.
The irony of her anger was lost to the girl. She may steal for a living, but she crept in and crept out without so much as scaring somebody else. These people were ready to murder for wealth. And Dounia was tired of being scared.
Her strangely blurry target moved out of her line of sight, so Dounia scrambled up onto the carriage box, slipped past Othman, and nocked another arrow. Seeing the big guy with the machete, she turned her attention to him and let loose. The arrow flew true and struck him in the bulging pectoral muscle. The girl drew a deep breath, readied another arrow, and shot again. This time, the arrow just grazed him, drawing a line of blood but not adding to his porcupine effect.
Zahra released a small white globe and it hit the hulking human with unerring accuracy. The man braced his legs and the arcane force slid him backward a foot. He took it like he was punched in a bar brawl which seemed to make him all the angrier. His ferociousness and size were truly terrifying and as soon as Dounia saw him he started to break out into a run towards Zahra. The desert princess' arrow stuck deeply in his bicep and he shook his head in pain but didn't break his pace.
He cleared the distance from under the sky bridge to the young sorceress in no time and ended his run with a swing of his rusty machete. The blade seemed to hesitate an inch away from her body and halted completely before it could hack into her ribs. Although the arcane armour she had up slowed the blade it was the bodice of Haseena's dress that saved her.
The half-orc thug fighting Tymythy went wide eyed as the spear showed through the other side of his bicep. He grabbed the warriors spear hand and, with agonizing pain, drew the weapon from his other arm. The wounded arm went limp but didn't drop his cudgel. With a look of fury and a show of remarkable stamina the thug took the club in his off hand and swung it connecting with Tymythy's jaw. It bloodied the warrior's gums. The thug, unable to hold on to consciousness, collapsed on the ground.
The witch yelled at Tymythy, "The blood is poison!", then she reached out her clenching hand. Tymythy became suddenly convinced that the blood oozing down the spear head and all over his hand is horribly caustic and venomous.
The final thug grabbed his cudgel in both hands and swung it downward again at Cairee. The club bounced off of her and the cleric knew she had the distant intervention of Saiph to thank. Her shield prayer had been answered.
The leader looked horrified and pulled away from the horses. Things were not going as planned. It was usually 'kill a guard or two and the richies were sufficiently cowed' but one of his minions was already dead. As he moved he smeared the air again but the haze stopped as soon as he did. He raised a crossbow and fired it at Dounia. The bolt would have stuck in her if she were the type to sit still but her snake-like reflexes had her out of the way with inches to spare.
The witch yelled at Tymythy, "The blood is poison!"
Tymythy’s eyes widened as he saw the half-orc’s blood dying his spearhead red start to hiss and sputter as if it was acid trying to eat through the metal. With a muttered oath the hunter dropped his weapon on top of his fallen opponent and stepped away from it, surveying the field of battle. He saw Dounia and Zahra threatened by the biggest brute in sight, and that was enough for the young hunter – the woman he had been tasked to guard was in imminent danger.
Stepping around Zahra, Tymythy took note of his new opponent’s machete and stepped close, ducking under a clumsy blow the man aimed at him to keep him away and slashes his reverse-gripped curved sword across the brute’s stomach, just under his navel. The blade bit deep, almost eviscerating the man. As the bandit free hand reached down in a desperate effort to keep his innards where nature had intended them, Tymythy met the man’s horrified gaze with a neutral expression of his own, one that saw the brute as little more than an obstacle to be removed from his path.
Zahra shrieked in alarm, her bravado gone, as the machete sliced at her abdomen. What had she gotten herself into?
Thankfully Tymythy appeared at her side and she quickly ducked behind him, having no qualms about putting himself between her and the hulking brute of a man.
Her eye caught the woman out of the corner of her eye and she presented a much more agreeable target because she was smaller and further away. The sorceress began the now familiar arcane words and associated motions before sending a ball of force hurtling towards the woman with the bone necklace.
The final thug grabbed his cudgel in both hands and swung it downward again at Cairee. The club bounced off of her and the cleric knew she had the distant intervention of Saiph to thank. Her shield prayer had been answered.
Thank you Saiph, Cairee thought. While the club didn't hurt, the contact still shook her. She realized she was all alone on this side of the carriage. And the Thug looked so big and so angry. Cairee tried to send another burst of weather his way.
A little cloud sputtered to his left and fizzled out.
Cairee scrambled back, closer to Othman. She could see Dounia on the other side of the horses, looking strong and angry. She turned back to her attacker. "You better stand down, or my friend will shoot you." She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
Seeing Tymythy slice brutally through the nearest man, Dounia turned to the strangely blurry man that seemed to be the leader. She loosed two arrows in quick succession, but both went astray, bouncing and breaking off the stone walls behind him.
Tymythy and Zahra fought back-to-back spinning around each other. The warrior faced off with the mindless creature-of-a-man weapon-to-weapon. The young sorceress levelled her eye on the witch.
Tymythy swung his new shortblade across the barbarian's stomach and a chasm long slash open up. The barbarian grabbed his stomach, dropping his machete. The culmination of wounds was too much and the beast fell to the ground, never to get up again.
The scarecrow-like leader watched his brute fall and grabbed a flask, drank from it, then, with propitious speed, leapt over the chain and disappeared to the right.
The witch took Zahra's missile of force like she'd been hit by a ball-and-chain and she immediately grabbed her chest in pain. She saw her leader bolt for it and yelled, "Krailich! You coward!! Alharis Alkhamis will have you dead, even if you run all the way to Glaemourgan! Oh, hell with this" She retreated with every ounce of speed she had.
Cairee tried to retreat to Othman's side but as she moved away the last thug, unaware the struggle had turned, took a hearty swing at her. His cudgel struck the side of her temple. A loud high pitch ringing was all she could hear and her vision turned a field of radiant white.
As Cairee's vision cleared the cleric could see him looking around and noticing there was not a friend in sight. He turned and ran south. He didn't get ten feet before a caltrop pierced his boot and he stubbled trying to get away.
Cairee felt like a bell that had just been rung. She was pretty sure the Thug was fleeing, and felt some relief in that.
"Is everyone okay?" After a sound beating to the shoulder and head with that awful club, Cairee realized she was very close to passing out. Without waiting for a reply, she clutched at her necklace, praying to Saiph for help.
Zahra’s pulse was racing from the adrenaline as she watched the woman turn and run. She looked around to see if there were any remaining threats but everyone seemed to have fled or was dead.
She leaned against the carriage briefly to slow her breathing when she heard Cairee’s question from the other side. ”Good,” she replied. ”I’m good and so is Tymythy.” She looked inside the carriage to confirm that Haseena was okay before checking on Othman or Dounia.
Moving to the front of the carriage, she said, ”Let’s get that chain moved so we can get out of here. Or do we have to back up? If that’s the case then we need to gather those metal things that are on the ground.”