Mama Cookie enjoys the walk and grows more and more amazed at the buildings as they travel. She makes comments on how she likes or doesn't like this or that. "Ohhh, look at that flowerbox!" "How did they climb down after they were done putting up all those tiles on the roof! It's so high!"
She gets more tense as things get prettier, until Trillions. She visibly relaxes here. Now this is the place for me! Look at these trees! she marvels. I doubt they'll let me live here, but it's nice to know this place isn't all brick and mortar!
Senna chuckles, "Esteemed Mother, you remind me of the sort of lady that will be running this place in under six months."
"Sometimes you should spoil your children."
Cookie giggles and says, Absolutely. But just sometimes. She winks.
You 'walk and gawk', your heads swivel to take in all the sights of this curious town, when a stranger development ambles down the street towards you. You nearly collide with a tall skeleton in a waistcoat and cravat that is sporting (of all things) a top hat. The skeleton deftly sidesteps your party, the glowing red embers in its coal-dark eye sockets sweep across your faces.
It tips its hat and says through its slack jaw “Excuse me.”
Then it moves past your group with an agreeable, ”Have a pleasant stay.” as it continues down the road.
Lady sticks close to Mama through the city streets, but as soon as things open up she's gone. She sneakily makes her way around sniffing at thigs and generally orbiting the party, but not straying very far. When the skeleton appears she circles him and seems ready to charge in at it if hostilities broke out, but nothing happens, so she goes back to her investigations.
Sabelina gives the skeleton a forced smile and a polite nod as she passes. She simply doesn't know what else to do. As they move onward down the street, she eventually remarks to the others "this place reminds most of Katapesh, or what I've read about Katapesh at least."
Mama tenses at the sight of the skeleton. All the stories of her youth come rushing back to mind. But... he doesn't attack? She can't help but stare as the Bones walk past. They should all be dead or at least be fighting right now! What was going on? Ok, I really need to have some words with this leader now. she mumbles.
You press on. The High Street ends by merging into a wide circular cobblestone promenade encircling a remarkably flat and large expanse of lawn . A few flower and vine-covered trellises arch over the promenade to provide periodic shade for walkers. On the periphery of the promenade, standing on opposite sides, are two buildings.
The first structure is a vast wooden dome, over 200’ across. You see only a single, over-sized, heavy wooden door for entry. Flanking it (and presumably circling the entire dome) are a series of long narrow windows of stained glass. Some appear to have figures in them, others are merely decorative patterns. Hanging above the door and the nearest panel of stained glass, flapping in a bit of breeze, is a thick wooden sign. It features the silhouette of a man in a bare landscape, standing at the junction of two roads. At least, you think they are roads. They appear grey-black and there aren't any wheel ruts. This is Crossroads.
The second building is the Campanile – the bell tower of Threshold. It is an imposing 80’ high building of solid stone which is about 20’ wide at the base and decorated in an artistic style you’ve never seen. The four corner blocks jut out slightly from the rest of the walls. There are three, smooth (seemingly decorative) ‘trenches’ carved into each of the walls, starting above the door-frame and terminating about 15’ from the top of the tower. Above the trenches is a ‘lip’ of stone. Above that are a series of columns running to the crown of the building. You spy flashes of daylight and blue sky coming from between the columns, leading you to conclude there is an open-air room at the top, likely holding a large bell, given the building size. From a distance, the roof appears to be slightly mounded and covered in overlapping reddish tiles that are bowed . As you get closer, you see the tiles a bit more clearly. They are carved to look like fish with their heads running towards the edges of the roof. In contrast to the red-tiled roof, the building itself has been plastered in a smooth white coat. Breaking the monochromatic effect is a single door of deep brown oak.
Slightly below and surrounding Table Green, the promenade, and the two buildings, are rows of modest houses and apartments and businesses to support them. They are set apart from the Campanile and Crossroads by an arrowshot. Welcome to The Culet, the ‘capital’ section of Threshold.
Around noon, Xing's belly growls and her feline nature reasserts itself. She pads downstairs to get a snack and stretch her muscles. Sitting in the window of the tavern, she watches the activity in the plaza and notes the only people she even vaguely knows all heading towards the High Street like they have somewhere important to go.
She trails the group while scarfing down her food and getting periodically distracted by all the odd sights available around seemingly ever corner in Threshold. The communicative skeleton is a particular eyebrow raiser - particularly since she understands its nature from several tomes she studied during her monastic training.
She catches up with the team as they stare at the vast dome of Crossroads and the white spike that is the Campanile...
Sabelina points out the spired building.
"That's where we're going."
Since she knows where to go and has her purpose in mind, she doesn't dally in walking straight on toward it.
Sabelina marches up to the Campanile and knocks on the oak door set in the smooth white wall…
There is a momentary pause before you each hear a feminine voice speaking the common tongue, in your head.
:: … ::
:: Hello? Ah, hello! I’ve been informed you wish to speak with me. I would like to do so… but I’m in the middle of something at present. Could you give me 15 minutes? You are free to wait, of course. But I would instead suggest you go to Crossroads and have a drink or two. Yes, two would be better. I’d recommend the Titan Kicker followed by the Angst Accompanies Sunrise. Don’t do them the other way around. That should put you in the right frame of mind for our conversation. Tell the bartender I will be paying for your drinks. I apologize for my tardiness, you caught me at the wrong moment. ::
The voice adds an afterthought. :: Oh, and ‘no’, I can’t read your minds. People always ask. ::
Skeletons are normally mindless undead. On very rare occasions, a skeleton may retain their intelligence and personality, becoming a Skeletal Champion (i.e. Mr. Bones) instead. What makes a skeletal champion formidable is that they retain and can improve their skills and talents . So, Mr. Bones could be a formidable and well-leveled combatant. Assuming he is 'just another skeleton' could be a potentially lethal mistake.
Xing steps up next to Sabelina just in time for the mental message from the Architect. She is without her huge bundle, having left it at the Slattern, and raises her eyebrows at the strange message.
She hikes a thumb back where they came from, ”First an intelligent skeleton, and now a building that speaks to our minds. This place certainly doesn’t lack surprises.” Her brow furrows in thought, ”Though if everything’s a surprise, then maybe nothing is really a surprise anymore?” She shrugs, ”I guess I wouldn’t mind discovering what surprises this Crossroads has for us.”
While she waits to hear what the others want to do, she nods to Sabelina, then does he same to Mama Cookie and the big orc. ”My day is better to see you all today. I’m glad you stayed.”
She looks over at Senna, ”I was thinking about your inks. Maybe we can come up with a design to mark the discovery of this strange town.” She shrugs, ”I have coin, but we can also do the inking in a public place, to publicly demonstrate your skill?”
Sabelina doesn't have much personal experience on the subject. What she knows comes from second, third, and so on accounts of officialdom and bureaucracy in Taldor.
She is amazed a person might arrive at a place without an appointment, be asked to wait a mere 15 minutes, be given a pleasant way to spend the time for free, and be apologized to for the inconvenience.
In Taldor an appointment usually buys a person the opportunity to bribe someone for another appointment, perhaps with the right person next time, and the privilege of waiting all day past the next's appointment's scheduled time to maybe see someone and bribe them to get a request taken care of.
Sabelina looks at the others and asks "drinks then?"
”I have coin, but we can also do the inking in a public place, to publicly demonstrate your skill?”
Senna considers for a moment, "I definitely can't charge you for a tattoo. I still owe you for saving my... bacon."
"Let's chat about the right tattoo and venue over a drink... that our host seems more than willing to buy."
"Drinks then?"
"Hell, yes!"
And so our heroes cross the lawn to parch their respective thirsts…
You enter Crossroads and try to take it in. The tavern is a large wooden dome nearly 200' across with two levels. The second level is a ring that abuts the narrowing sides of the dome and looks down upon the main floor. It is held aloft by four massive statues. It can be reached by a pair of circular staircases. As you noted during your approach, from the floor to the rosette at the top of the dome, there are a series of stained-glass windows, letting in the sunlight from different angles and intensities. Spaced along the floors of both levels are a series of large pentagonal braziers providing additional light. The center of the main floor is dedicated to a large circular bar. Tables and chairs of various sizes and styles litter both levels. In one spot, three tables sprinkled with a few dedicated gamblers, are roped off to separate it from the rest of the bar. In another area, there is a raised stage, presumably for the evening's musical entertainment. There are no other customers in the tavern at this hour.
The bartender spots you instantly and waves you over. She is slender and athletic, judging from the firm muscles on her bared forearms. Her eyes are sharp - sizing you up - as she sets down a newly-cleaned mug and wipes her hands on the bar towel looped through her apron. ”I’m Kat. Welcome to Crossroads, the finest dive you probably can’t afford. Can I help you?”
Xing lets out a long, slow whistle as she steps into Crossroads. ”This is a new one for me,” she mutters.
She moves across the room towards the bar, slowly making a full rotation to take in all the strange sights as she goes.
She stops in front of the bar, quietly watching the bar-woman size her up. Then she gives her customary small bow, ”We went to visit the Architect, but the voice told us we should visit here first. It said we should try a …” she pauses, wanting to get the drink orders correct, ”… a Titan Kicker and an Angst Accompanies Sunrise. In that order. I am intrigued, but should I also be worried?”
Mama is the second to the bar. She hops deftly up onto a bar stool and chuckles. After that Tea the Committee brewed for me yesterday I think my liver might be invincible. Or already dead. Either way, let's have those drinks. Apparently the lady in the building over yonder is paying.
”…I am intrigued, but should I also be worried?”
Kat just smiles. ”You should really sit down for this.” She indicates four seats next to the one Cookie just leapt into. On the lacquered bar, she deftly lines up five crystal glasses the size of thimbles.
Senna takes a seat next to Cookie.
”…I think my liver might be invincible. Or already dead. Either way, let's have those drinks.”
Kat chuckles, ”Let’s test that, shall we?” She peruses the many rows of bottles looking for the right one.
While you wait, you spy a small placard resting on the bar, near your spot. Written in chalk, it says:
We accept the following next to an arrow pointing down at the bar top.
Trapped beneath the lacquered top of the bar, like bugs caught in amber, are a bewildering array of currencies. There are coins you recognize in gold, silver, and platinum. There are also dozens of strange coins some in metals you’ve never seen, along with shells, polished stones, common gems, pearls, beads of various sorts, and even some braided strings of interwoven beads in some sort of pattern. More curious than that are a set of tiny portrait paintings. They actually look a bit like scrimshaw due to the fine details and intricate patterns laid down by someone with a steady hand and needle-sharp paint brush. You realise that level of perfection is only possible because the scrimshaw-paintings are done on some sort of smooth paper not canvas or skin.
The bartender returns with a thick but common-looking glass bottle. With a single sweep, she fills each of the thimbles with the golden-brown liquor, spilling only two drops. She clucks at her carelessness, then places a full crystal thimble ceremoniously in front of each of you.
”The Titan Kicker… a shot allegedly taste-tested and named by a true Titan. Enjoy.”
Mama takes the glass and raises it in saute before draining the whole thing in a single gulp.
Lady sneaks her way into the bar among the others. Animals usually aren't allowed in these places and she's curious what the others are going to drink.
Sabelina is undaunted by the theatrics of the pourer and downs hers only a split second behind Mama Cookie.
Senna salutes the others, taps the thimble against the bar and downs the shot.
The liquor rolls smoothly down your throat with a pleasant nutmeg-like taste… then swiftly transmogrifies into a snarling, lava-spitting Demon that sucker-punches every one of your internal organs in alphabetical order. Like biting into a hot pepper, the flash-pain triggers the release of endorphins leaving you drunk, sweaty, and completely euphoric.
Sabelina giggles.
Mama grunts, then coughs and looks up with a cross between a smile and a grimace. Yup. Liver's still there.
Kat pours water for your group and offers a fresh towel for anyone feeling especially sweaty. She glances at Cookie as she wipes down the bar, making idle conversation. "If you like the committee's tea, you might be interested to know the same herbalist had a hand in several of the cocktails we serve here."
She notes the pig trying to remain inconspicuous, "Animals are welcome here, just not in the gambling arena. At least twice a week, a fella comes with his weasel. He buys a drink for himself and a raw egg for the weasel."
At this Lady emerges from behind one is the Halfling statue's legs with her ears up. Really!? That guy at the Slattern had a sign saying I wasn't allowed so I made assumptions. Sorry.
She trots across the room and hops up on a stool.
Mama nods in appreciation of that fact as she recovers from the first drink.
Kat stops across from the fox. "Every place sets their own rules but I can't think of a one that bans animals - especially talking ones. We have too many spell-slingers in town for that. Mostly, whoever is behind the stick sets the policy. If I'm working the Slattern, you are certainly welcome. The only rule we have here - for animals or people - is don't eat the other guests."
She places as empty bowl in front of the fox, "What are you drinking? First one is on the house to make up for the poor first impression. We can't go offending our guests."
Emboldened by the 'no eating' policy, Sausage trots speculatively up to the bar and plops himself down at the foot of Lady's chair, scratching his back against the chair's leg.
Xing takes a seat and picks up the initial drink, swirling it in the tiny container and leaning cautiously to take a long sniff. Seeing the rest of the women slam them down, Xing gives the tiny glass a similarly tiny heft in salute, then carefully pours it into her mouth.
As the initial deliciousness settles onto her taste buds, Xing smiles. ”Kat. This place is very interesting,” she starts, nodding at the statues. ”Are they of specific —“. The tail of the Titan hits, and she gasps out the last word, ”PEOPLE?”
She just sets the tiny cup down before coughing, shaking her head and continuing to cough out a string of Minatan words.
When she looks back up, Xing’s golden-brown eyes are already dilating. She gives a slow blink, then an exaggerated eye-open expression that stretches her whole face. Then she shakes her head a tiny bit, trying to slow the room’s sudden, slow spin.
”Um. Yeah,” she says weakly, giving her new friends a helpless shrug. ”Round two, I guess.”
" If I'm working the Slattern, you are certainly welcome."
"So, different people can ..." she only slightly slurs her words, "work different taverns? That sounds like a good job. Does someone teach bar-tending? I'd love to learn."
Kat doesn't quite laugh at Xing's 'enthusiastic' response to the drink, "Sneaks up on ya, doesn't it?"
"I don't actually know the story behind these statues or even if there is one. It wouldn't surprise me."
She raises an eyebrow at the talk of work. "Some of us work a single tavern and others have more than one gig. I'm here most of the time but I do work the Slattern and a couple other joints, if they are short-handed for some reason. I don't think anyone teaches pubtending like a class. It's more of a 'learn by doing' job. If you're serious about learning and earning, you'll have no problems getting a bar-backing gig to learn the ropes and get some experience behind the stick." She taps on the thick, stick-like tap handle to shed light on the turn of phrase, "...then you just keep adding to your knowledge by working different spots. I'd start at the Slattern. Salli is great, you get fed on your shift, and the drinks are pretty simple."
Kat stops across from the fox. "Every place sets their own rules but I can't think of a one that bans animals - especially talking ones. We have too many spell-slingers in town for that. Mostly, whoever is behind the stick sets the policy. If I'm working the Slattern, you are certainly welcome. The only rule we have here - for animals or people - is don't eat the other guests."
She places as empty bowl in front of the fox, "What are you drinking? First one is on the house to make up for the poor first impression. We can't go offending our guests."
Lady ponders even as her wagging tail gives away her inner excitement.
Well, there have been very few times in my life where I've had a choice!She looks down at her newfound friend. What do you think?
Sausage considers this weighty and important decision... then grunts and flicks her snout at the bartender twice, as if to say 'let her choose?'
Sabelina considers her very light purse and listens in as Kat talks to Xing about bartending. It's a possibility for her too she supposes, but depressing.
A job? Really? There must be a better way...
Sausage considers this weighty and important decision... then grunts and flicks her snout at the bartender twice, as if to say 'let her choose?'
Ya, I could. But she asked ME for MY choice! You know how rare that is! Usually we get the leftover water!
Lady looks back up and eyes the rows of bottles. I waaaannnt. Something that feels like I've just fought a mongoose and won!"
Following the rest in, Yash takes a seat on the outside of the group. His eyes scan the bar, more looking for threats than appreciating the décor. He's silent through most of the exchange, offering a simple nod as the drink is placed in front of him. As the others begin drinking, he follows suit, swallowing the small beverage in one gulp. Before he can even set the glass down, he can feel the burn in his throat. His vision blurs for a moment and his skin begins to turn red.
Yash looks down, shakes his head quickly, and mutters "more."
Xing gives Yash's stoicism a small grin, "A man of few words. I respect that." She gives him a nod that threatens to throw her off-balance slightly. Thence turns to Mama Cookie, her brow furrowed in concern. "Did you know your fox can talk? Is it a forest spirit?"
"I definitely can't charge you for a tattoo. I still owe you for saving my... bacon."
Then she turns back to Senna, still blinking away the threatening dizziness. "The pig is actually a good place to start. In my culture, it's a sign of luck, honesty, and reliability." She pauses, considering the subject with the overly-serious bearing of one trying hard not to be drunk. "Time will tell whether our meeting in Threshold was good luck or bad, but it certainly seems auspicious. So maybe an arch over a pig? Or maybe something to do with that big bell tower outside?" She pauses, not realizing she's speaking more words in this one string than in nearly another point since hopping off the ship a day ago, "Or maybe we could include a symbol for each of you? Like Sabelina could be a rapier ... or a boot!"
She turns seriously back to Kat, "I will ask Salli about ... bar-backing."
“I waaaannnt. Something that feels like I've just fought a mongoose and won!"
”Oh, a challenge!” Kat leans against the bar and glares at the bottles for a long moment, searching for the right answer. ”Ah!”
She grabs a half dozen, small glass globes from a closed cabinet on the far side of the bar and pulls a stalk of celery from an icebox along with what appears to be a couple ampules of blood. As she shaves the celery, builds the drink, and drips the blood in it, she relates, ”We had a regular some years back, a kobold paladin with a giant weasel for a steed. Curious fella, really into tall women. Anyhow, his steed was prone to fits of depression. Took awhile but we figured out this recipe as a ‘pick me up’. There!” On the bar she places a small globe of effervescent liquid spewing golden smoke from its neck. She deftly rolls the celery into a straw and channels the smoke through it. She angles the other end of the straw towards Lady’s delicate nose. ”Inhale deeply. Trust me.”Lady breathes in a cloud of the vapor that smells of autumn, celery, and vanquished foes…
Lady sees the small two-legs lining the bar, watching her. They are insignificant now. She isn’t a fox… has never really been a fox or a familiar. She is Morgarath, Queen of the Dire Wolves! Her bones are thicker than an ox’s! Her jaws crush plate armor! All creatures are her prey and run before her! She clearly recalls racing through the forest by the light of dusk with her pack. They cornered the mastodon bull. She fought it one-on-one while her pack circled, preventing its escape. She dodged beneath its fearsome tusks then tore out its throat and dragged it to the ground like a rabbit. Her muzzle was awash in hot blood as she drank and ate her fill. Then she and her pack howled their victory!
For everyone else in the bar… Lady sucks in a cloud of smoke and freezes in place, every hair on her body standing on end. She looks like a cute ball of fuzz. For three minutes she doesn’t move. Then she drinks an entire bowl of water and does a single, high-pitched, elongated ‘yiiiiiip!’ before falling asleep for five minutes.
"Time will tell whether our meeting in Threshold was good luck or bad, but it certainly seems auspicious. So maybe an arch over a pig? Or maybe something to do with that big bell tower outside? ...Or maybe we could include a symbol for each of you? Like Sabelina could be a rapier ... or a boot!"
Senna is drunk enough that her brain is lagging about five seconds behind Xing’s mouth. Even staring at the monk’s mouth isn’t helping. So, she nods sagely at every idea, waiting for her mind to catch up. She looks past Xing to Sabelina briefly to mouth a boot? at the bladeswoman before returning her dazed focus to Xing. ”So, we could do a series of small tattoos with all those ideas.. but you might want to have, like… a theme, or they may look unrelated. Ya know? What if we start with a tattoo of the bell tower and then instead of those three lines going up it, we replace those with a symbol for each of us like an Osirion obelisk? It’s like us being joined by the tower? Or… OR, we could do the wall with a bunch of arches and then a symbol for each person in each arch. OR… maybe that’s dumb.”
All the words coming out of Xing's mouth at once makes Sabelina giggle again.
"No boot!" she exclaims in protest. "I want roses!"
"Where's that anguish drink anyway?"
Gauging how the Kicker affects her customers, Kat starts tossing ingredients into a mortar and pestle below the bar. The vigorous grinding of stone on stone can be heard. ”Angst Accompanies Sunrise is next, right? For all five of you?” Kat’s hands find a variety of bottles and pour contents even as her eyes scan the tavern and fall on each of you, quietly assessing.
All the ingredients - ground and liquid - go into a silver urn with a dozen small blocks of ice. She shakes the container like she is trying to kill it.
She pours the froth-topped contents of the shaker into short rocks glasses. It looks like the result of folding a sunset into a glass of angst, riddled with an angel’s regrets. She twists a lime rind over each glass to release their oils and garnishes each one with a thin wheel of lime before placing the drinks in front of you. ”Angst Accompanies Sunrise, this will straighten you out. You should sip it.”
It's a pleasant tasting almost fruity drink. It goes down like cream then it touches off a supernova in your belly that travels outward until you feel like beams of tangible light are shooting out of your eyes, mouths, fingertips, and toes. Then, like a thunderstrike, it is gone. It leaves you feeling slightly more sober and hyper-alert. In fact, everyone in the bar now has a sharply-defined aura, as if an artist snuck through the room and painted an outline around every living creature. On your tongue, a hint of lime is all that remains.
”The more you sip, the more sober you’ll get. Pick your own stopping point.”
Lady feels POWER! Lady feels INVINCIBLE!
Lady feels nothing, and it is good.
"Did you know your fox can talk? Is it a forest spirit?"
Mama turns a little too quickly and has to blink forcefully to get her eyes to focus. Why yes. quite. She's a bridge to the Ancestors, my Lady. Quite proud.
When the second drink is served she just starts giggling for a few seconds. Well, you are a wonder, dear. This is violently refreshing!
Xing smiles along with Senna's ideas, "I like the tower theme." She pauses painfully focusing her own sluggish thoughts, "Maybe in a stylized wave or water theme, because of how I got here." She awkwardly pulls her jacket and shirt deep down past shoulder, baring her shoulder and a big stretch of her back (which is much paler than the rest of her exposed skin), "My symbol could be a tiger, like this guy." Sure enough, a tattoo of a stylized white tiger stalks through some of her other tattoos.
"I want roses!"
Xing gives an indelicate snort-laugh. "A rose?! Are those not for fawning teenage girls or useless rich women?" She leans in close, elbowing Sabelina a little too hard, "You are neither, I've seen this."
When the new drink is placed before her, the Minatan woman gives Kat another nod, then takes a small sip, letting the strange experience dull the drunkenness a bit. As it works, Xing takes another look around the room, eyeing the other customers.
"This whole town is strange. And as Kat has said, I wonder what strange stories have unfolded here. I do love a good story." She looks back at Kat, "Are there any good book stores in town?"
Mama turns a little too quickly and has to blink forcefully to get her eyes to focus. Why yes. quite. She's a bridge to the Ancestors, my Lady. Quite proud.
Xing nods along, listening to Mama Cookie as she watches Lady intently. "Where I come from, some say the fox is a sign of a trickster or manipulator." She shrugs, "But I've seen them to be something more. Something ..." she searches for the right Taldan word, "... that transcends this life, connecting it to the next. A strong Ancestor spirit, indeed."