Chimwemwe's puzzle box appears in his hand as the Sun Warrior describes the cruel method of preparing whydah to cook and his fingers move faster and faster. Eager to change the subject, he inquires about the Sun Warriors. "While I am a student of the divine geometry, it is also important to maintain the body. A strong mind requires a strong body. If you do not mind, tell me, how do the Sun Warriors maintain their physical readiness?" He continues trying to engage the leader in conversation about the martial practices his soldiers employ.
Themba stares at Chimwemwe with burning hatred when the inventor intentionally distracts him from the cruel revelry.
But only for a moment.
In a blink, Themba is smiling warmly. He slaps Chimwemwe on the arm.
That's funny! Ask Ochieng. Did you meet her? I'm sure she has those poor brutes on a dogmatic schedule. I'd say her brain might have atrophied after she received Walkena's "gift" of undeath, but she was never very creative when she was alive. And she got things done on time then. Now she excels even further at the art of micromanagement — for she never sleeps, eats, or breathes!
He chuckles. No no no, Chim — isn't that what your friends call you? "Chim?" — the God-King wouldn't have me doing such mundane work. We enjoy much more rarefied pleasures here in this manor.
Themba's butler slinks alongside Chimwemwe and refills his drink before the inventor even notices; the man has been standing in the shadows the whole time.
After some more pleasantries, the audience ends.
Themba insists on sending you back to the inn with a carriage, and boxes of delicious home-cooked food labeled as plain chapati bread. Another liveried servant, one with callused hands, packs the food for you. The grinning butler slips outside and waits at the carriage, holding the door open. We know where you are staying, friends. We'll have you at the Golden Mouse soon.
You attempt to contact Worknesh again but fall short; she's out on business right now.
While to locate him in the markets, you hear rumors swirl of a Maagambyan delegation trying to interfere with trade. "I hear you hate Vidrian and want to see our people suffer! Go home! says one angry merchant. It seems M’bele is spreading rumors about you and theyv are taking hold.
In other parts of the city, people clam up when they see you. They seem terrified. You hear whispers of "Walkena's Hand.
Ignaci says Remember the secret police I mentioned? I think we're being followed, and the populace is afraid to talk to us. Can't blame them.
"I think we need to deal with M'bele," Chimwemwe says, hurt by the unearned vitriol.
Akoril nods, "Lets have another chat with M'bele. We'll save Ignaci for sorting out the secret police, maybe bring Jumimo with us?"
With the secret police tailing you it's tricvky, but eventually you arrange to meet M'bele at the Sunlit Inn on the north side of town. Many guild members lounge about the common room. Clearly, this is their turf and they feel it will give them an edge in negotiations.
M'bele is sitting at a table and looks at you as you enter. He pretends to be busy talking to other guild members and makes you wait several minutes before coming over.
Negotiations are moving apace. Have you come to your senses? My offer still stands.
Akoril starts "Perhaps we've caught you at a more opportune time. Our last meeting was so rushed and we didn't get to discuss all the ways we could help each other. Let me start by thanking you, and asking if you might introduce some of your associates."
Akoril starts a polite conversation with the merchant, who emphasizes the importance of succeeding of this effort for Vidrian. Assuring M'bele you will work to aid the economic stability of Vidrian reduces the Mercantile Lore or Society DC to influence by 2.
"Yes, it was quite a rushed conversation before. We would love to discuss the current economic situation in Vidrian and how the Magaambya can help the country prosper."
He brightens up. Of course! Through economic unity, we aim to bolster the whole Mwangi expanse against colonists." Over the course of the conversation M'bele realizes that blocking your efforts might only hurt his own, so he will back off on interfering.
"The Magaambya teaches that we are held up by the strength of our community, and that is not limited to our neighbors in Nantambu. Our colleagues ahve connections throughout the Mwangi and beyond, and we will do what we can to leverage that influence to further your mission."
"Indeed," Chimwemwe says, trying to capitalize on Curling-Wisps-of-Smoke's diplomacy. "The Magaambya supports the lifting up of all people--not only those of Nantambu--and we see Vidrian as allies. We are here in Mzali with the hope of cracking its xenophobic shell, and that is something where you and Vidrian's economy can take advantage." He pauses. "And if it helps to demonstrate our value to you, I can write down my notes on my own assessment of the quality of Mzali products to share with you."
Chim and Kiri try to make a case for alignment but M'bele seems to have rather cooled off. There is more progress to be made here, but the merchant has to go off to another appointment!
Azeeko arranges a meeting with Sihar, but it takes a longer since you need to lose the tail of the secret police.
She arrives in the inn one night, disguised as a traveling bard with an entourage of supporting musicians. She plays a whole set before several nondescript patrons wander out.
I thought they'd never leave. Make this quick, you're being watched.
Akoril nods. "They've been following us everywhere. My colleagues have more pressing questions, but tell me where you are known to be, people you are known to see, so that we can avoid them and try and throw off any suspicion of the secret police."
When we’re not at arms against these oppressors we seek news of the old gods, especially this lost daughter of Chohar. We might help you move around the city and evade the secret police — Themba is a thoroughly repugnant character who terrorizes the innocent and I would delight in thwarting his designs as the leader of “Walkena’s Hand” — but not yet. To be quite frank, our people do not trust you and you’ve given them little reason to.
"That is very understandable. I can appreciate that people need to be slow to trust here, and we can only do our best to prove that we are worthy of it. Do you have any advice for how we can go about it?"
I trust you. Tell them my name, and we can help you.
Chimwemwe says with a glance at the windows, "I am sorry that speaking with you requires much effort and subterfuge. I wanted to learn about the Old Sun Gods. This history may provide us with insight into the people as well as ways to better sway Walkena's council. The past informs the future."
Subterfuge is important too. Take the Shrine of the Eclipse, which I mentioned before. To keep the temple a secret from the council, the people of Mzali-Jimbuani built a smaller shrine over the temple to serve as a decoy. The ersatz shrine was designed to serve as a gathering hall and give the people of Mzali-Jimbuani a place to perform weddings, hold festivals, and generally serve the community. This front as a community center worked… for some time. The Council of Mwanyisa focused on Mzali, they ignored the “common folk” of MzaliJimbuani and their simple community shrine.
She is happy that you're so interested.
"Clever. Sometimes hiding in plain sight is the most effective camouflage."
Hide in plain sight… alright, I see where you're going. We'll do that. But we will be at hand.
The sun is going down; she and her friends slip out.
The next morning Nkiruka summons you.
It was a quiet night. Strangely quiet. no Bright Lion activity. I hear they have paused activities in the city for a time. I am impressed, Magaambyans.
With that, you are dismissed.
"On first impression, he is a sycophant, but he has influence," Chimwemwe says. "Maybe it is time to revisit Wekesha, if we can find him."
-2 to all these.
Even with the secret police tailing you, you manage to find Wekesha in about a week's time wandering the markets and taverns.
He is scribbling notes as he ambles comfortably alongside to a young mzali citizen; in one hand is a bag of goods and slung around the other arm is a squirming child.
Yes, yes… you wish for city-funded day care because you work and do family errands and have little family support for the little one. I see…
He pauses as you approach.
Akoril looks over their shoulder one more time, to make sure they aren't being obviously closely followed.
Akoril nods to the citizen "Apologies, but we should make our meeting short. It is good that Wekesha works with the citizens so much. Please tell me of some of the works Wekesha has accomplished recently, he's been so modest in his descriptions to us."
Wekesha blinks. Gnoll, outsider…can you not see I am at work serving the citizenry of Mzali?
"Of course, and we know how crucial your work is!"
Wekesha nudges the woman's shoulder as she struggles along.
Do you see? Even for outsiders can have wisdom. The broken clock is right twice a day, they say. Hah. He seems rather pleased.
"Is that so?" Kiri says, their unblinking mechanical eyes boring a hole into the man.
Chimwemwe tries to open up conversation on how a settlement is like a living organism. Both need the intake of proper sustenance, maintenance of the body, and exercise of the mind. It may be too academic.
The man's golden sunrise tattoos glitter in a sudden ray of sunlight, dazzling Kiri. Consider, outsider. A wrong clock is never right. Be careful you know what you are doing before speaking in our city.
To Chim, Wekesha twists the metaphor to blood cells fighting off an invading virus. Thus are outside influences in our beautiful city.
Regrouping later...
Akoril frowns "That seemed to go particularly poorly. Lets see Worknesh again. Maybe if we have some extra time, figure out if there's something we can do to get on Wekesha's good side. Maybe bring Ignaci with us?"
You ask around trying to learn more about Wekesha but find little help. Common folk here are utterly terrified of the secret police, and a day goes down the drain.
You bring the intrigue master Ignaci to meet the cruel master of spears Worknesh. She is in "the pit" behind the manor, conducting drills for the Jackal Guard, pacing back and forth and holding her golden spear. It might remind you of training with Mafika, if Mafika were cruel and the workouts designed to break you down instead of lifting you up as a team. You wonder what Onyije would think.
As you walk into the sweltering pit a soldier doing pushups isn't quick enough, but Worknesh's boot is. She viciously kicks him, breaking ribs.
The soldier writhes on the ground, gasping for air but unable to do more than take shallow, hyperventilating breaths hampered by his newly-shattered bones.
If you cannot even execute 200 pushups with with proper discipline, you deserve to be broken. Waste of time. A medic moves in to help. Worknesh holds up her hand and the doctor pauses. Let him squirm for a bit in the dirt. He may need another kick if he continues to gasp like a minnow. When we are done with today's drill, recycle this trash back to the Sun Warriors. Drop him on their temple steps; let them waste resources healing the weak.
The other dozen soldiers in the pit continue to furiously exert themselves. Worknesh looks over them and smiles. For we Jackal Guards are made of sterner stuff than that rabble… we are the elites. The strong. The mighty and the righteous. Is this not so? TELL ME.
HAIL THE GOD KING! the soldiers shout between pushups. Hail… the… god… king! Worknesh stamps her spear in the dirt. HAIL!
Minutes later the squadron stands at attention. Worknesh turns your way. Ahh! The "academics" have returned. I assume you are not here for calisthenics?
"No, though it is quite impressive how well you keep them in shape. I admire your training techniques."
Indeed. Worknesh stares at Wisps. No need to deceive. What we do here is not for everyone. That is very much by design.
"A few calisthenics might do us good, especially for our younger members like Ignaci. Let me show you some of our routines, and we can learn from each other."
"I'd be curious to hear what the next step in your training is, to connect this base-level physical discipline to the more complex discipline needed on the battlefield."
Worknesh is not vry impressed with Akoril's effort, but Kiri on the other hand… Indeed! How about this, Alrinkiri: you and the delegation can attend a special combat performance later in the week. These same members of the Jackal Guard will engage in engaging in sparring matches and retellings of the true history of Mzali.
"Maybe one of your soldiers would benefit from a practical demonstration of hand-to-hand techniques from outside of Mzali," Chimwemwe suggests, weaving an offer to give a hands on demonstration to one of the soldiers into his discussion on regimens to maintain physical fitness.
This might be interesting… if you earn the opportunity later. Nonetheless she seems impressed.
Later that week you are invited back to the jackal Guards' manor, where a gathering of Mzali movers and shakers congregates in the afternoon light. Only the four of you are invited; no one else from the delegation has tickled Worknesh's interest.
Aristocrats wear dazzling golden robes and loose-fitting dashiki patterned with yellow sun motifs. There are musicians playing soft music, and sweet foods and drinks. An ice sculpture of the god-king himself stands on a pedestal; the sunlight cuts through the clear rime, refracting the light like a brilliant halo.
The elegant pomp belies the brutality you saw at the manor on your last two visits. Somewhere in the manor, behind locked doors Bright Lions are being "interrogated," and there's probably fresh blood in the sand pit…
You're hustled to the show, with seats near Worknesh. She points out a man in golden robes who wears a golden headdress with rays that shine like the dawn. There is Zubari, the head of the priest of Walkena's faith and head of the Council.
Also in the crowd are Themba and Wekesha.
The show begins in ages past, where old Gods of the Threefold Sun (Chohar, Luhar, and Thehar) tried to tear down the righteous and strong by bringing sloth, avarice, and weakness to the Mzali people. They welcomed outsiders. They consumed the wrong foods. They sang the wrong songs. They undermined pride in their own history. For many years the Mzali people languished, and in this weakened state would have been annihilated by Sargavan invaders… but then Walkena awoke, and the miracle of his wrath saved them all.
Fire rained from the sky upon the Chelaxian raiders, incinerating the entire army. This climactic scene not only features magical special effects, but intense combat and real blood. It's impressive none of the Jackal Guard participants are gravely injured.
There is a brief intermission. You have some time to mingle… Worknesh is talking with some Jackal guard leadership; Themba smirks as he leans on a palm tree sipping wine, Wekesha admires the ice sculpture, and Zubari talks with an assistant who's taking notes.
"Very impressive, Worknesh. Combat as a story-telling medium is an interesting challenge, and your soldiers excelled. I'm impressed how willing and able they were to go right up to the limit of deadly combat without crossing that line for the finale."
Akoril talks to Worknesh. "I continue to be impressed by the Jackal guard. While I'm sure we do not have nearly enough time to get into all the details... my training certainty reflects the specifics of the layout of Nantambu. Come share an anecdote of how their training reflects Mzali."
Your techniques could use some pointers, but you are on the right track, student. How about a sparring match tomorrow… you four versus some of my Jackal Guards?
[ooc]Chim and Wisps can each make one check against one NPC: Worknesh, Themba, Wekeshsa, or Zubari.
Chimwemwe tries to learn something about the head priest, Zubari, during the intermission.
Having built up a rapport with Wekesha, Wisps reaches out to him again.
"I would love to hear more about your upcoming plans for the city."
Zubari and Chim talk but for a moment, the inventor doesn't quite capture the man's attention and an assistant pulls him away on official business. He seems quite busy.
Wekesha smiles at Wisps. I would never be so presumptuous to have plans. I merely report things the people say to the God King. What happens after that is none of my concern.
The show ends on an upbeat note. Jackal guards mimic the punishment and execution of contemporary insurgents including one masked and mysterious leader who reminds you a bit of Sihar.
A new dawn for Mzali can be had, if the whispers of the old Sun Gods are completely eradicated. The strong rule, the old ways are brought back, and Walkena's fire will cleanse the city and bring a new dawn of purity… if only the people remain vigilant.
With that, the festivities end. Dusk is coming, so the guests depart quickly lest they be caught after dark.
Akoril will consult. "I suspect they will be brutal, but if we put up a good showing it'll go a ways in impressing Worknesh. I'm sure however that it'll give the Jackal Guard and the secret police insight into our tactics, which if things go particularly poorly could be a disadvantage later."
"The gains may be worth that particular risk," Chimwemwe says. "If ever we need to truly bring arms against the Jackal Guards, we have indeed failed."