Akela quickly helped the goliath to tie Didna and carefully turn her so she couldn't bite either of them.
"Neither!" Akela said raising her voice. She hated to shout, but right now their time to act was limited.
""Keep her still," she said to Vimak, softening her voice yet still keeping it firm. She then pulled out the jar of paste that Namuk had given her. Doing as he had instructed, Akela dipped a finger in and pulled out some paste, careful not to use too much as the half elf had said. She then gently applied the paste under Didna's eyes just as she had seen Namuk do to the other ill woman before. She watched and waited, a soft rumbling coming from her as she spoke in her people's tongue. Praying that it would work.
You don't need to roll. You'd have advantage on it anyways, because of the grappled condition, so it's all good to go.
Almost immediately after Akela applies the paste to Didna's under-eye, the thrashing and shrieking begin to lower in intensity. Already unable to escape the grip of Vimak, Didna's attempts become more and more feeble, until eventually her eyes shut and she stops moving at all. Some of the red in her flushed face begins to dissipate, but the black, septic veins remain engorged, throbbing slowly with each beat of the dwarf's heart.
"Much better way to get her to sleep," Durug says, inspecting the back of his handaxe. He runs a finger along a fresh dent in the metal.
A crackling whistle sounds nearby as several men in highly decorated robes blink into the space around you. The tallest of them raises his eyebrows at the sight of the dwarf on the ground, and looks to the sky with fingers to his temple. "Yes, yes, why would it spread outside the walls. It's probably just a passing thing." His voice is laden with sarcasm and also quite high-pitched for someone of his stature. He shoots a look at another of the men, who looks to his feet in response. "Let's just clean this up." He makes a motion with his hands and mutters something in the native tongue, and immediately Vimak and Didna are flung apart, skidding along the dirt. The man says another few words and makes a twisting motion with fingers extended, and the rope is yanked from Akela's grip and flies over to Didna, where it dives and twists and knots, leaving her unconscious body bound with one arm in front and one arm in back, both secured to her midsection. The man looks up and points to each person involved in the scuffle, counting on his free hand. When he gets to the frightened child, who still peers from the tent, he raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. "Try not to flail," he says to no one in particular. He waves to Niyin, barks a word and suddenly there's dark and damp. Though he's not visible, the same word is shouted again, followed by another whistling crackle.
"Where..?" Durug is bent at the knees, arms stretched out, quite unsure of his balance.
"You're safe, for now. Please hold your breath for a moment, unless you don't value your lungs." The same man's voice rings out from somewhere above the group of people. There's a brief stillness in the air followed by the appearance of little specks of light, almost like dust in the air. They grow in number until the entire room is lit. Akela, Vimak, Niyin and Durug face one another; Didna is limp on the ground between them. Stone walls surround everyone and above them is a criss-cross of metal, beyond which a staircase can be made out. The floor here is also stone, but a darker stone than the sandstone used for the walls. Apart from that, the chamber appears empty. "Breathe deeply now, when you have a moment." The little motes shine even brighter and begin to shake in place. Durug takes a deep breath and falls to his knees, grasping at his throat. It becomes apparent to all who breathe that the air burns, a searing pain like alcohol on a wound, which seems to only grow stronger with the brightness of the dust. But then it's just gone, leaving the sound of coughing to echo in the room. There's another whistle and the whole of the group appears in a new room, on a wooden floor. This one has windows that let in light and is also populated by several men in the same robes as those as before scouring tomes, scribbling notes, and practicing their oration of spells. The tall man who appeared to them stands before them now, his hands behind his back and a smug look on his face. "Yes, quite unpleasant. We'd work on that, but we're busy trying to cure a plague, you know. The good news is you likely won't die from infection. Now, tell me who you are and what you know about the dwarf who turned ill, and we'll send you on your way."
Durug manages to stop his coughing and looks up to the man with a frown, "Friendly as ever, Yhazir."
A flash of doubt and then relief had washed over Niyin when the other end of the rope she had tossed forward was missed by the goliath but then the Loxodon snatched it up with a show of great dexterity. She closed the gap while the scuffle continued, shouts and snarls mixing together in the scene. She came to a stop before them, prepared to help and immediately knelt for the Dwarf’s feet with the other end of the rope when the mad woman had began to still. Glancing up, she understood why and nodded to the gentle outcome. Before she could rise to her feet, the little imp climbed back up onto her shoulders. “You tried to kick me, didn’t you? And all for not. A big help you were, hm? They had it under control,” grumped on the imp, settling into a comfortable spot.
Niyin stood and backed off a step with a heavy sigh. “You’re just cranky you didn’t get to watch me fall,” she whispered at her shoulder and began coiling the rope back up. That was when she heard the whistle. Backing another step, she turned half a step and witnessed the appearance of another in robes. Before a word or action could happen, the Dwarf seemed to explode from his grasp, sending him across the ground, too. She thought to go for her crossbow at the suddenness of it, but then the man spoke and the rope was ripped out of her grasp, and then, darkness. The imp hissed. Niyin was too startled to move.
Light returned, the voice spoke to them again. She held her breath as commanded and covered her shut lips when the man started coughing. Just as she thought she could hold it no longer, they moved, apparently, once more and the sounds of a busy room came to her ears and musty air and dust invaded her lungs as she gasped. Coughing, she listened to the man speak once more, demanding to know who they were.
“You must be *cough* from the tower.” She cleared her throat and took a normal breath. She glanced around the room again, was that where they were now? Nodding her head, she spoke quickly, not wanting to find any trouble in the short time she had already been there. “Niyin, Sir. My name is Niyin. I’ve just arrived here via carriage when soon after the Dwarf turned ill. I acted to help.” She felt a tug on her ear and she snapped her head to the side. The little imp lowered his hand, as though to show her something small, then cupped his hands like a bowl and pretended to drink. “Oh! Sir,” she said suddenly and a bit loudly. “Are we by chance in the tower? I was looking for someone who may be with the Guild. He has a blue ring, one that produces water. I must speak with him quickly.”
Vimak listens to Niyin and as casually as he can, puts his hand on his ax handle. He does not like coughing and does not like the taste it left in his mouth. "Durug," he says, "who are these?"
He wants to be happy they have overcome the dwarf without hurting her, and he want to share this victory with Niyin and the loxodon, but he is not sure where he is or why. Are these strange robe wearers from the tower? If so, why would they be so rude? And what did this rude one say to the other one, the one that stared at his feet? What did that mean?
He will see how they respond to Niyin and the loxodon before he decides if he likes them. He will see what more Durug has to say, as well.
Akela breathed a great sigh of relief as Didna's eyes closed and she began to still. Thank the gods, it had worked. She tucked the jar with the remaining paste back into her pack and had turned to say something to the girl that had thrown them the rope when they were suddenly surrounded by men in robes.
Akela grabbed up her staff and took a defensive pose, unsure of what was happening. So much seemed to happen at once. Someone was shouting and giving orders while a magical force thrust them apart and began to clean the area of bile and blood. Akela heard someone say 'breath deeply' and had just a moment to curl up her trunk before darkness enveloped them.
When the world reappeared, Akela went down onto one knee as she tried to regain her senses. Her eyes stung and watered and her lungs burned from what little bit that she had breathed in. She coughed and made a half blowing, half trumpeting sound as she cleared the burning air from her trunk and took a breath of the clean air.
"What is the meaning of this?" Akela said between coughs as she got back to her feet. Using her quarterstaff to help balance her, Akela looked around the stone room they found themselves in.
She then curiously looked to the robed man that now spoke to them. Durug seemed to know him, calling him Yhazir. Niyin answered Yhazir's rudely asked questions while Vimak remained silent. After a moment Akela stepped forward.
"I am Akela Brightheart of the Ottawa Tribe," she said, a deep rumbling echoing from her as she said her name. "Before I answer any of your questions you'll be answering some of mine. Who are you and why have you brought us here? What have you done with Didna?"
Yhazir's gaze falls on Niyin. "Yes, you are inside of a tower, but no, there is no man here with a ring that...drips." He pauses and slowly raises an eyebrow. "If you're referring to the cow tend with his magical ring, he insisted on staying with his beasts at the edge of the east sabban. Clever piece of jewelry, but not a very clever man." He folds his hands behind his back and paces a bit, presumably considering Niyin's description of her role in the event. As he does so, Durug mouths an answer to Vimak, magi.
The loxodon's self-introduction and demand for information was unexpected for Yhazir. He smiles and turns to face her. "Pasha of the Guild Arcane, Yhazir yn Artosh el Massan. You are among magi of the Guild Arcane, here in Keltar. And we have brought you here to both burn out any illness from you–and for that you are welcome–and to uncover how it was that a dwarf woman outside the walls of the city somehow became like those beasts that now roam within. If that crude word 'Didna' is a name, then it is most certainly Dwarvish, and we have...collected her." He gives a look to a pair of magi who are on either side of a nearby table, fingering through books and taking notes with quills that seemed to move on their own. "Now, with pleasantries out of the way, I need to know by what cause this dwarf changed. We've just learned that the other Guild Arcane are not willing to send any of their magi and risk their becoming ill and that the shahnate intends to restrict travel to and from the city. Terribly inconvenient, as we'll have to expedite any...shipments."
He turns away from the group and faces towards the other magi who still buzz around the room. "To speak honestly, this whole ordeal is terribly inconvenient."
A young boy, whose mantle was pinned around his shoulders with an emblem matching that of the one on the robes of the magi, scales the stairs to the left of the group from a floor below. He's out of breath and pauses to gasp, his hands on his knees. He extends a hand, holding a letter sealed with a yellow wax seal. Yhizir retrieves the letter and squints at it. He tucks it into a pocket and waves the boy off. Before he makes it back down the stairs again, he stops, his head peering over the railing and says, "They still wouldn't let me up to the Head of Guard, sir." Yhizir sighs, and waves him off again, before turning back to the group. "Now I ask again, who are the rest of you and what do you know of the dwarf?"
“I am Vimak Stormforged Katho-Laga of the Keltar Guard,” Vimak says. “Durug can vouch for me.” Yhazir was a pasha, Vimak realized, high in the government of the city. Probably Yhazir has authority to yank them from their posts, though someone would have to let their sergeant know what’s going on. Luckily enough the tower is where they wanted to be.
“I would thank you for your cure, but was I ever ill?” Vimak says. “Didna is a priest of Ilmater. Durug and I met her on our way here.” Vimak lets his hand drift from his battleax. He decides not to like Yhazir, but fighting magi is tricky and fighting pashas is trickier. “She was covered in puke outside a healing tent. The puke did not seem to be hers, and she was using one of your magi moves to clean herself. She was healthy then.” Vimak thinks about his hand axs—much lighter and easy to throw—and how far away Yhazir stands. He knows better than to attack the pasha and thinking like this is probably not necessary. On the other hand, his old mother always said be polite and have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
“Didna agreed to come here with us. We’d been assigned to check in on you lot and didn’t know what we’d find. In the middle of doing that, she turned.” The dwarf twitches and fights against the ropes even in her sleep. Vimak hopes she isn’t in pain. “Tell us then Yhazir,” he says, “how are things in your tower? Are the rumors you’ve a cure true? Tell us, heal the dwarf, and then whistle us back to our post. Or at least send word to our sergeant.”
Akela's eyes narrowed at Yhizir's words. She didn't like people that were rude, but Akela couldn't decide which angered her more. The fact this man referred to Didna as 'cude' and a 'beast' or the indifference that practically dropped from his voice. This was supposed to be one of those trying to find a cure?
Akela's ears flared and flapped violently, reflecting her growing temper.
"Didna is not a beast," she said, emphasizing Didna's name. "She is a person who fell ill through no fault of her own." A fierce growling sound coming from her as she spoke. "And why would you seek answers from the lower ranks when you, Pasha of the Guild Arcane, can't even find the answers yourself?!"
Her voice came louder than she intended and Akela knew she had possibly overstepped her boundaries. She took a deep breath to rein in her anger. She tried to remember the reason why her Matriarch had sent her here.
"Didna was fine only moments before the worst of the illness overtook her." Akela thought back to when she had briefly seen Didna shortly before she had turned. "She was asking to be excused so she could clean herself up and rest. Her clothing had vomit on them." She looked to Vimak. Perhaps he knew more than she did.
Yhizir looks over Vimak carefully, before saying, "Who's to say whether you were or weren't ill. Either way, you're not now and for that, I'm sure you are grateful." He waves a hand in the air and a quill races over to meet him, along with a piece of paper that floats down from a higher floor. The quill begins writing. "As for your tale of the Dwarf, it sounds as though she simply succumbed to the dangers of her trade. Though...I wonder if it didn't stem from before the city was rushed out. The onset of the sickness hasn't yet been observed and unfortunately, the sultan has denied our request to send slaves back into the city to see what would happen." He sighs and then continues. "There isn't a cure just yet. We don't have many live samples to test them on. On top of all other things, we can't seem to open portals back into our Guild, proper."
His explanation is cut short by Akela's impassioned outburst. His eyes widen at the her tone and suggestion of his failure. "Only fools walk into the desert without others to scout ahead." He spits the metaphor as though it were a curse. There's a pause and then he continues, his speech softening, "If she was keeping herself clean, then perhaps it hangs in the air in the tents. We won't clear them out, because it's probably best to not lose track of who is infirm and it gives something for the Ilmateri priests to focus on." There's a pop from one corner of the room, where a very thin and tall elf magus holds a smoking vial, wrinkling her nose at her concoction and slipping it into a small wooden stand, alongside a number of others. Yhizir turns his attention back to the group. "We have reason to believe that–" He stops himself and brings a curved finger up to rest against his lips. He stands thinking for a moment, nods, and then continues, "We have reason to believe that this all might actually stem from the House of the Broken God. Not to say that those freakishly large-hearted priests are responsible, but from what we know, it's quite likely that the source is there. Of course, that all would be easily cleared up by Imsan, were he to agree to speak with us." Vimak and Durug recognize this as the first name of the commander of the entire guard of Keltar.
“Perhaps we can do something you personally, and your organization generally, has failed to do,” Vimak says. “I can’t speak for my allies, but it might be possible for us to meet with Imsan. Before we do that for you however, you would at the least need to introduce us to the cow tend, as you call him, and promise treatment for Didna.”
Vimak is watching Niyin, Durug, and Akela. He hopes he is not presuming too much by speaking this way about matters that might concern them.
“No doubt Imsan has many excellent reasons for not speaking with you, Yhizir. Tell us what they are. Then, if we are agreed about helping you," he looks at his colleagues, "just whistle us over to him.”
"Well, how wonderful would it be if we could introduce you to the cow tend!" Yhizir's words drip with insincerity. "And when is the last time you've seen Imsan, guard? We've kept watch–no meetings, no messengers–he's holed up in his quarters near the gate." He throws an arm out in, presumably, the direction of the city's west gate. With a sharp breath out, he drops his arm and shouts, "Dhara, bring the map you tried to steal!"
The sound of footsteps the floor above is accompanied by some jeering voices. Soon after, a goblin wearing rags stumbles down the stairs, landing on its face. It scrambles to its feet and holds out a rolled piece of paper, flattened on one end from where it landed on top of it. Yhizir snatches it away. "Sharakh adh lumal!" he hisses, "You damaged it." Yhizir waves a hand, and the goblin is flung backwards, hitting the stone wall with some force. It remains on its knees, cowering with its hands on its head, and repeating in a thick accent, "Soh-rii, soh-rii...urh...sorry." Yhizir waves it away and casts a mending spell over the rolled paper, making it pop back into the correct shape. He unfurls it for Vimak and the others to see.
It's a map of Keltar. In the center is a whole overview of the city with the sabbans outlined and labeled in the Alzhedo language. To the right and left of the full city map are enlarged maps of the eastern and western gates that lead into the city. Yhizir puts his hand over the western gate's map and there's a crackling. When he pulls his hand away, the map has been altered with ink that seems to dry quickly to reflect the encampments that are now outside. He points to the emblem guard just to the left of the gate. "This is where you will find Imsan. And if you're truly interested in wasting time with the old man and his cows, you'll find him somewhere here." He looks at Niyin and points to a space in the eastern sabban on the far side of the Calim River. "And for that reason, it's in your best interest to speak with Imsan, anyways. You'd need to acquire his permission to enter the city, unless you had some fool plan like rushing through the gate or trying to swim through the canals–though fools do as fools will." The map snaps back into a roll and falls to the floor at Vimak's feet.
"Do I need to explain again, or has it stuck with you? I understand that at least the soldiers among you are excellent at following orders."
I'll try and draw out the map for you all before the end of the day.
Akela silently listened to the exchange between Yhizir and Vimak. Though she didn't know him, Akela had to agree with Vimak's words. And when he looked to her and Niyin she gave a nod of her head to show that she was with him in his thinking.
"Perhaps we should try talking with this Imsan," she said, speaking more to Vimak than to Yhizir. She didn't like this Pasha and no attempt to hide it in her body language.
Akela's attention was drawn to the stairs as Yhizir summoned the goblin, Dhara, with the map. Having never seen a goblin before, Akela eyed the little being with going curiosity. When the goblin tripped and fell on the map, angering Yhizir, she gasped and frowned at the man. Surely such an outburst of anger was uncalled for.
Akela eyed the map, but she couldn't help but look back over at Dhara. She felt sorry for the poor thing as it sat where it had been thrown. Finally, when Akela was certain she had seen the map enough to remember, she turned her back on Yhizir and slowly when over to the goblin.
She gently reached out her trunk to gently help Dhara to its feet, much like she would have done with a young calf that had stumbled. A soft rumbling came her in a way that would be felt like a gentle vibration within the goblin's chest. It was a sound that was intended to sooth and comfort.
"Are you alright, little one?" Akela asked softly.
"I. Fine." The goblin's handle of common isn't terribly good and it speaks in a jagged and unsure way, its native tongue influencing its ability to speak. "I. Dhara. Slave-eh. No steal-eh. No more." When it looks up and sees Akela, it is startled at her size–a loxodon was not a commonly encountered creature for a goblin–but the low rumbling that came from her long trunk put it at ease. It reaches out and holds her trunk with tiny, lithe fingers. "Long. Nose-eh." Its lips peel back in what must be the goblinoid equivalent of a smile.
"I. Fine. I. Slave-eh. For cause-eh I. Steal-eh. Paper. Sneak-eh as rat-eh through sewer in magi-den. They see I. Now dhara. Slave-eh." The goblin looks worriedly at Yhizir, but the magus is busy speaking about the map.
"My name is Akela," she replied, chuckling softly as Dhara seemed to inspect her trunk.
Slave. The word was not unknown to Akela. She knew that slavery existed in the world outside of her Tribe, but how did a simple crime of stealing earn being made a slave? Akela looked back to where Yhizir still stood speaking of the map.
"You tried to steal that paper?" Akela asked in a soft voice so not to draw Yhizir's attention. She turned back to Dhara, her eyes gentle yet questioning. "Why?"
The goblin nods. "Many. Way. In Keltar. Robe-man want-eh. Way. In Keltar." It pauses and counts on its fingers for a moment before amending its explanation. "Four robe-man. Pay. Many shiny." It looks to Yhazir again, who drops the map to the ground. "I. Go. Now. Thank-eh Akela." And with that, the goblin pops to the balls of its feet and runs up the staircase, pretending that it has a trunk as it goes.
“Very well, Yhizir, we will do this favor for you, this thing you’re incapable of doing yourself,” Vimak says. “We’ll visit Imsan and ask him about the origins of the illness.” Vimak squats and picks up the map. “Once we’ve finished with the task—doubt it will take long—we can work on the next item on the long list of things you can’t do for yourself, if we’ve time.”
Vimak watches Akela’s conversation with the goblin. Might be useful to have stealthier person with them, but the goblin goes away up the steps. Doesn’t look like it was meant to be.
The question now is if they should visit the Niyin’s friend or Imsan first. And, of course, how they get out of here. Should they make plans in this room or after they have left? He tries to see how Durug, Akela, and Niyin are feeling.
NIyin nods and listens along, trying to take in the words and block out the tone, something her mother taught her. When emotions wash over, meanings and details can be lost. She tried her best to always follow it, but she also knew it was her folly at times. “Cow tend,” she muttered to herself. “East sabban.” She had no input to offer as the one named Akela spoke, though Niyin’s frown supported Akela’s displeasure. The guard, Vimak, was more stone towards the storm that spoke to them, spoke down at them, she felt. She nodded to him at the mention of finding the cow tend, thanking and recognizing his help for her small, personal mission.
The change in tone and atmosphere at the appearance of the goblin nibbled at her irritations, and with the man’s sudden outburst, she snapped her hands to her weapon before the Goblin landed. She stilled her hand, knowing that she was in a world where customs were different, but that thought did little to calm her completely until she heard the Goblin speak, assuring her they were at least alive. She heard enough of his explanation, her frowning eyes and set jaw not turning from the man. She nodded once to his address of where to find the cow tend and then walked away stiffly, hand still on her weapon. She pushed the words out of tight set lips as she passed him to approach the Goblin. “Fools wear many masks, Yhizir,” she said through gritted teeth. “And even fools deserve thanks for offered assistance, no matter the ilk it’s dipped in. But, I do not support your treatment of others, slave or otherwise. I pity any who would call you Master.” She offered him no pause to reply and kept going.
Akela made it to the Goblin first. Not trusting her own tense body to offer a kind voice in the moment, she let Aleka speak. When offered a moment, she smiles at the Goblin and says, “My name is NIyin. Pleased to meet you.”
“That could be you. Will be some day.” The voice cackled in her ear. The weight of the imp was nothing, and what little there was, she was so used to that sometimes she forgot the little devil was there. “Remember what your mother said. Walls up, mask on tight, else they will see you for what you really are. Hahaha.” Those weren’t the exact words, the imp was twisting them to prod her fear; and it worked. Niyin backed away a step, letting the shadows of her cloak close around her a little more as she tightened her grip on her cross-body strap. “You should just run away now. Run into he desert, scared little girl.” Niyin shook her head with a violent twist, almost throwing the imp off, but it was ready, for it wasn’t the first time. She focused her attention on the rest of the conversation between Aleka and Dhara until it was done. Though the mystery of who paid the little Goblin to steal a map was alive in her mind.
With the Goblin gone, she let out a sigh, though she wasn’t sure if she was relieved of saddened. She looked up at Aleka, thinking she saw a sadness in her eyes, too. Obviously she wasn’t too impressed with recent events either. Niyin turned away before she stared too long. “I am ready to leave this place,” she said loudly. “The longer we stay, the sicker I feel.” She walked back towards Yhizir and Vimak. “If it pleases you, show us the door or,” she smirked, “since you saw fit to move us here without our permission, perhaps you could be so kind as to move us to where we need to be.”
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(Guys I said I have a paste to put her to sleep. I thought it was my turn :( )
Akela quickly helped the goliath to tie Didna and carefully turn her so she couldn't bite either of them.
"Neither!" Akela said raising her voice. She hated to shout, but right now their time to act was limited.
""Keep her still," she said to Vimak, softening her voice yet still keeping it firm. She then pulled out the jar of paste that Namuk had given her. Doing as he had instructed, Akela dipped a finger in and pulled out some paste, careful not to use too much as the half elf had said. She then gently applied the paste under Didna's eyes just as she had seen Namuk do to the other ill woman before. She watched and waited, a soft rumbling coming from her as she spoke in her people's tongue. Praying that it would work.
(Do I need to roll for this?)
You don't need to roll. You'd have advantage on it anyways, because of the grappled condition, so it's all good to go.
Almost immediately after Akela applies the paste to Didna's under-eye, the thrashing and shrieking begin to lower in intensity. Already unable to escape the grip of Vimak, Didna's attempts become more and more feeble, until eventually her eyes shut and she stops moving at all. Some of the red in her flushed face begins to dissipate, but the black, septic veins remain engorged, throbbing slowly with each beat of the dwarf's heart.
"Much better way to get her to sleep," Durug says, inspecting the back of his handaxe. He runs a finger along a fresh dent in the metal.
A crackling whistle sounds nearby as several men in highly decorated robes blink into the space around you. The tallest of them raises his eyebrows at the sight of the dwarf on the ground, and looks to the sky with fingers to his temple. "Yes, yes, why would it spread outside the walls. It's probably just a passing thing." His voice is laden with sarcasm and also quite high-pitched for someone of his stature. He shoots a look at another of the men, who looks to his feet in response. "Let's just clean this up." He makes a motion with his hands and mutters something in the native tongue, and immediately Vimak and Didna are flung apart, skidding along the dirt. The man says another few words and makes a twisting motion with fingers extended, and the rope is yanked from Akela's grip and flies over to Didna, where it dives and twists and knots, leaving her unconscious body bound with one arm in front and one arm in back, both secured to her midsection. The man looks up and points to each person involved in the scuffle, counting on his free hand. When he gets to the frightened child, who still peers from the tent, he raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. "Try not to flail," he says to no one in particular. He waves to Niyin, barks a word and suddenly there's dark and damp. Though he's not visible, the same word is shouted again, followed by another whistling crackle.
"Where..?" Durug is bent at the knees, arms stretched out, quite unsure of his balance.
"You're safe, for now. Please hold your breath for a moment, unless you don't value your lungs." The same man's voice rings out from somewhere above the group of people. There's a brief stillness in the air followed by the appearance of little specks of light, almost like dust in the air. They grow in number until the entire room is lit. Akela, Vimak, Niyin and Durug face one another; Didna is limp on the ground between them. Stone walls surround everyone and above them is a criss-cross of metal, beyond which a staircase can be made out. The floor here is also stone, but a darker stone than the sandstone used for the walls. Apart from that, the chamber appears empty. "Breathe deeply now, when you have a moment." The little motes shine even brighter and begin to shake in place. Durug takes a deep breath and falls to his knees, grasping at his throat. It becomes apparent to all who breathe that the air burns, a searing pain like alcohol on a wound, which seems to only grow stronger with the brightness of the dust. But then it's just gone, leaving the sound of coughing to echo in the room. There's another whistle and the whole of the group appears in a new room, on a wooden floor. This one has windows that let in light and is also populated by several men in the same robes as those as before scouring tomes, scribbling notes, and practicing their oration of spells. The tall man who appeared to them stands before them now, his hands behind his back and a smug look on his face. "Yes, quite unpleasant. We'd work on that, but we're busy trying to cure a plague, you know. The good news is you likely won't die from infection. Now, tell me who you are and what you know about the dwarf who turned ill, and we'll send you on your way."
Durug manages to stop his coughing and looks up to the man with a frown, "Friendly as ever, Yhazir."
Yhazir sighs and looks down at Durug, "As ever."
A flash of doubt and then relief had washed over Niyin when the other end of the rope she had tossed forward was missed by the goliath but then the Loxodon snatched it up with a show of great dexterity. She closed the gap while the scuffle continued, shouts and snarls mixing together in the scene. She came to a stop before them, prepared to help and immediately knelt for the Dwarf’s feet with the other end of the rope when the mad woman had began to still. Glancing up, she understood why and nodded to the gentle outcome. Before she could rise to her feet, the little imp climbed back up onto her shoulders. “You tried to kick me, didn’t you? And all for not. A big help you were, hm? They had it under control,” grumped on the imp, settling into a comfortable spot.
Niyin stood and backed off a step with a heavy sigh. “You’re just cranky you didn’t get to watch me fall,” she whispered at her shoulder and began coiling the rope back up. That was when she heard the whistle. Backing another step, she turned half a step and witnessed the appearance of another in robes. Before a word or action could happen, the Dwarf seemed to explode from his grasp, sending him across the ground, too. She thought to go for her crossbow at the suddenness of it, but then the man spoke and the rope was ripped out of her grasp, and then, darkness. The imp hissed. Niyin was too startled to move.
Light returned, the voice spoke to them again. She held her breath as commanded and covered her shut lips when the man started coughing. Just as she thought she could hold it no longer, they moved, apparently, once more and the sounds of a busy room came to her ears and musty air and dust invaded her lungs as she gasped. Coughing, she listened to the man speak once more, demanding to know who they were.
“You must be *cough* from the tower.” She cleared her throat and took a normal breath. She glanced around the room again, was that where they were now? Nodding her head, she spoke quickly, not wanting to find any trouble in the short time she had already been there. “Niyin, Sir. My name is Niyin. I’ve just arrived here via carriage when soon after the Dwarf turned ill. I acted to help.” She felt a tug on her ear and she snapped her head to the side. The little imp lowered his hand, as though to show her something small, then cupped his hands like a bowl and pretended to drink. “Oh! Sir,” she said suddenly and a bit loudly. “Are we by chance in the tower? I was looking for someone who may be with the Guild. He has a blue ring, one that produces water. I must speak with him quickly.”
Vimak listens to Niyin and as casually as he can, puts his hand on his ax handle. He does not like coughing and does not like the taste it left in his mouth. "Durug," he says, "who are these?"
He wants to be happy they have overcome the dwarf without hurting her, and he want to share this victory with Niyin and the loxodon, but he is not sure where he is or why. Are these strange robe wearers from the tower? If so, why would they be so rude? And what did this rude one say to the other one, the one that stared at his feet? What did that mean?
He will see how they respond to Niyin and the loxodon before he decides if he likes them. He will see what more Durug has to say, as well.
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
Akela breathed a great sigh of relief as Didna's eyes closed and she began to still. Thank the gods, it had worked. She tucked the jar with the remaining paste back into her pack and had turned to say something to the girl that had thrown them the rope when they were suddenly surrounded by men in robes.
Akela grabbed up her staff and took a defensive pose, unsure of what was happening. So much seemed to happen at once. Someone was shouting and giving orders while a magical force thrust them apart and began to clean the area of bile and blood. Akela heard someone say 'breath deeply' and had just a moment to curl up her trunk before darkness enveloped them.
When the world reappeared, Akela went down onto one knee as she tried to regain her senses. Her eyes stung and watered and her lungs burned from what little bit that she had breathed in. She coughed and made a half blowing, half trumpeting sound as she cleared the burning air from her trunk and took a breath of the clean air.
"What is the meaning of this?" Akela said between coughs as she got back to her feet. Using her quarterstaff to help balance her, Akela looked around the stone room they found themselves in.
She then curiously looked to the robed man that now spoke to them. Durug seemed to know him, calling him Yhazir. Niyin answered Yhazir's rudely asked questions while Vimak remained silent. After a moment Akela stepped forward.
"I am Akela Brightheart of the Ottawa Tribe," she said, a deep rumbling echoing from her as she said her name. "Before I answer any of your questions you'll be answering some of mine. Who are you and why have you brought us here? What have you done with Didna?"
Yhazir's gaze falls on Niyin. "Yes, you are inside of a tower, but no, there is no man here with a ring that...drips." He pauses and slowly raises an eyebrow. "If you're referring to the cow tend with his magical ring, he insisted on staying with his beasts at the edge of the east sabban. Clever piece of jewelry, but not a very clever man." He folds his hands behind his back and paces a bit, presumably considering Niyin's description of her role in the event. As he does so, Durug mouths an answer to Vimak, magi.
The loxodon's self-introduction and demand for information was unexpected for Yhazir. He smiles and turns to face her. "Pasha of the Guild Arcane, Yhazir yn Artosh el Massan. You are among magi of the Guild Arcane, here in Keltar. And we have brought you here to both burn out any illness from you–and for that you are welcome–and to uncover how it was that a dwarf woman outside the walls of the city somehow became like those beasts that now roam within. If that crude word 'Didna' is a name, then it is most certainly Dwarvish, and we have...collected her." He gives a look to a pair of magi who are on either side of a nearby table, fingering through books and taking notes with quills that seemed to move on their own. "Now, with pleasantries out of the way, I need to know by what cause this dwarf changed. We've just learned that the other Guild Arcane are not willing to send any of their magi and risk their becoming ill and that the shahnate intends to restrict travel to and from the city. Terribly inconvenient, as we'll have to expedite any...shipments."
He turns away from the group and faces towards the other magi who still buzz around the room. "To speak honestly, this whole ordeal is terribly inconvenient."
A young boy, whose mantle was pinned around his shoulders with an emblem matching that of the one on the robes of the magi, scales the stairs to the left of the group from a floor below. He's out of breath and pauses to gasp, his hands on his knees. He extends a hand, holding a letter sealed with a yellow wax seal. Yhizir retrieves the letter and squints at it. He tucks it into a pocket and waves the boy off. Before he makes it back down the stairs again, he stops, his head peering over the railing and says, "They still wouldn't let me up to the Head of Guard, sir." Yhizir sighs, and waves him off again, before turning back to the group. "Now I ask again, who are the rest of you and what do you know of the dwarf?"
“I am Vimak Stormforged Katho-Laga of the Keltar Guard,” Vimak says. “Durug can vouch for me.” Yhazir was a pasha, Vimak realized, high in the government of the city. Probably Yhazir has authority to yank them from their posts, though someone would have to let their sergeant know what’s going on. Luckily enough the tower is where they wanted to be.
“I would thank you for your cure, but was I ever ill?” Vimak says. “Didna is a priest of Ilmater. Durug and I met her on our way here.” Vimak lets his hand drift from his battleax. He decides not to like Yhazir, but fighting magi is tricky and fighting pashas is trickier. “She was covered in puke outside a healing tent. The puke did not seem to be hers, and she was using one of your magi moves to clean herself. She was healthy then.” Vimak thinks about his hand axs—much lighter and easy to throw—and how far away Yhazir stands. He knows better than to attack the pasha and thinking like this is probably not necessary. On the other hand, his old mother always said be polite and have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
“Didna agreed to come here with us. We’d been assigned to check in on you lot and didn’t know what we’d find. In the middle of doing that, she turned.” The dwarf twitches and fights against the ropes even in her sleep. Vimak hopes she isn’t in pain. “Tell us then Yhazir,” he says, “how are things in your tower? Are the rumors you’ve a cure true? Tell us, heal the dwarf, and then whistle us back to our post. Or at least send word to our sergeant.”
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
Akela's eyes narrowed at Yhizir's words. She didn't like people that were rude, but Akela couldn't decide which angered her more. The fact this man referred to Didna as 'cude' and a 'beast' or the indifference that practically dropped from his voice. This was supposed to be one of those trying to find a cure?
Akela's ears flared and flapped violently, reflecting her growing temper.
"Didna is not a beast," she said, emphasizing Didna's name. "She is a person who fell ill through no fault of her own." A fierce growling sound coming from her as she spoke. "And why would you seek answers from the lower ranks when you, Pasha of the Guild Arcane, can't even find the answers yourself?!"
Her voice came louder than she intended and Akela knew she had possibly overstepped her boundaries. She took a deep breath to rein in her anger. She tried to remember the reason why her Matriarch had sent her here.
"Didna was fine only moments before the worst of the illness overtook her." Akela thought back to when she had briefly seen Didna shortly before she had turned. "She was asking to be excused so she could clean herself up and rest. Her clothing had vomit on them." She looked to Vimak. Perhaps he knew more than she did.
Yhizir looks over Vimak carefully, before saying, "Who's to say whether you were or weren't ill. Either way, you're not now and for that, I'm sure you are grateful." He waves a hand in the air and a quill races over to meet him, along with a piece of paper that floats down from a higher floor. The quill begins writing. "As for your tale of the Dwarf, it sounds as though she simply succumbed to the dangers of her trade. Though...I wonder if it didn't stem from before the city was rushed out. The onset of the sickness hasn't yet been observed and unfortunately, the sultan has denied our request to send slaves back into the city to see what would happen." He sighs and then continues. "There isn't a cure just yet. We don't have many live samples to test them on. On top of all other things, we can't seem to open portals back into our Guild, proper."
His explanation is cut short by Akela's impassioned outburst. His eyes widen at the her tone and suggestion of his failure. "Only fools walk into the desert without others to scout ahead." He spits the metaphor as though it were a curse. There's a pause and then he continues, his speech softening, "If she was keeping herself clean, then perhaps it hangs in the air in the tents. We won't clear them out, because it's probably best to not lose track of who is infirm and it gives something for the Ilmateri priests to focus on." There's a pop from one corner of the room, where a very thin and tall elf magus holds a smoking vial, wrinkling her nose at her concoction and slipping it into a small wooden stand, alongside a number of others. Yhizir turns his attention back to the group. "We have reason to believe that–" He stops himself and brings a curved finger up to rest against his lips. He stands thinking for a moment, nods, and then continues, "We have reason to believe that this all might actually stem from the House of the Broken God. Not to say that those freakishly large-hearted priests are responsible, but from what we know, it's quite likely that the source is there. Of course, that all would be easily cleared up by Imsan, were he to agree to speak with us." Vimak and Durug recognize this as the first name of the commander of the entire guard of Keltar.
“Perhaps we can do something you personally, and your organization generally, has failed to do,” Vimak says. “I can’t speak for my allies, but it might be possible for us to meet with Imsan. Before we do that for you however, you would at the least need to introduce us to the cow tend, as you call him, and promise treatment for Didna.”
Vimak is watching Niyin, Durug, and Akela. He hopes he is not presuming too much by speaking this way about matters that might concern them.
“No doubt Imsan has many excellent reasons for not speaking with you, Yhizir. Tell us what they are. Then, if we are agreed about helping you," he looks at his colleagues, "just whistle us over to him.”
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
"Well, how wonderful would it be if we could introduce you to the cow tend!" Yhizir's words drip with insincerity. "And when is the last time you've seen Imsan, guard? We've kept watch–no meetings, no messengers–he's holed up in his quarters near the gate." He throws an arm out in, presumably, the direction of the city's west gate. With a sharp breath out, he drops his arm and shouts, "Dhara, bring the map you tried to steal!"
The sound of footsteps the floor above is accompanied by some jeering voices. Soon after, a goblin wearing rags stumbles down the stairs, landing on its face. It scrambles to its feet and holds out a rolled piece of paper, flattened on one end from where it landed on top of it. Yhizir snatches it away. "Sharakh adh lumal!" he hisses, "You damaged it." Yhizir waves a hand, and the goblin is flung backwards, hitting the stone wall with some force. It remains on its knees, cowering with its hands on its head, and repeating in a thick accent, "Soh-rii, soh-rii...urh...sorry." Yhizir waves it away and casts a mending spell over the rolled paper, making it pop back into the correct shape. He unfurls it for Vimak and the others to see.
It's a map of Keltar. In the center is a whole overview of the city with the sabbans outlined and labeled in the Alzhedo language. To the right and left of the full city map are enlarged maps of the eastern and western gates that lead into the city. Yhizir puts his hand over the western gate's map and there's a crackling. When he pulls his hand away, the map has been altered with ink that seems to dry quickly to reflect the encampments that are now outside. He points to the emblem guard just to the left of the gate. "This is where you will find Imsan. And if you're truly interested in wasting time with the old man and his cows, you'll find him somewhere here." He looks at Niyin and points to a space in the eastern sabban on the far side of the Calim River. "And for that reason, it's in your best interest to speak with Imsan, anyways. You'd need to acquire his permission to enter the city, unless you had some fool plan like rushing through the gate or trying to swim through the canals–though fools do as fools will." The map snaps back into a roll and falls to the floor at Vimak's feet.
"Do I need to explain again, or has it stuck with you? I understand that at least the soldiers among you are excellent at following orders."
I'll try and draw out the map for you all before the end of the day.
(Is the goblin still in the room?)
Yes, the goblin is still on the ground near the stairs.
Akela silently listened to the exchange between Yhizir and Vimak. Though she didn't know him, Akela had to agree with Vimak's words. And when he looked to her and Niyin she gave a nod of her head to show that she was with him in his thinking.
"Perhaps we should try talking with this Imsan," she said, speaking more to Vimak than to Yhizir. She didn't like this Pasha and no attempt to hide it in her body language.
Akela's attention was drawn to the stairs as Yhizir summoned the goblin, Dhara, with the map. Having never seen a goblin before, Akela eyed the little being with going curiosity. When the goblin tripped and fell on the map, angering Yhizir, she gasped and frowned at the man. Surely such an outburst of anger was uncalled for.
Akela eyed the map, but she couldn't help but look back over at Dhara. She felt sorry for the poor thing as it sat where it had been thrown. Finally, when Akela was certain she had seen the map enough to remember, she turned her back on Yhizir and slowly when over to the goblin.
She gently reached out her trunk to gently help Dhara to its feet, much like she would have done with a young calf that had stumbled. A soft rumbling came her in a way that would be felt like a gentle vibration within the goblin's chest. It was a sound that was intended to sooth and comfort.
"Are you alright, little one?" Akela asked softly.
"I. Fine." The goblin's handle of common isn't terribly good and it speaks in a jagged and unsure way, its native tongue influencing its ability to speak. "I. Dhara. Slave-eh. No steal-eh. No more." When it looks up and sees Akela, it is startled at her size–a loxodon was not a commonly encountered creature for a goblin–but the low rumbling that came from her long trunk put it at ease. It reaches out and holds her trunk with tiny, lithe fingers. "Long. Nose-eh." Its lips peel back in what must be the goblinoid equivalent of a smile.
"I. Fine. I. Slave-eh. For cause-eh I. Steal-eh. Paper. Sneak-eh as rat-eh through sewer in magi-den. They see I. Now dhara. Slave-eh." The goblin looks worriedly at Yhizir, but the magus is busy speaking about the map.
"My name is Akela," she replied, chuckling softly as Dhara seemed to inspect her trunk.
Slave. The word was not unknown to Akela. She knew that slavery existed in the world outside of her Tribe, but how did a simple crime of stealing earn being made a slave? Akela looked back to where Yhizir still stood speaking of the map.
"You tried to steal that paper?" Akela asked in a soft voice so not to draw Yhizir's attention. She turned back to Dhara, her eyes gentle yet questioning. "Why?"
The goblin nods. "Many. Way. In Keltar. Robe-man want-eh. Way. In Keltar." It pauses and counts on its fingers for a moment before amending its explanation. "Four robe-man. Pay. Many shiny." It looks to Yhazir again, who drops the map to the ground. "I. Go. Now. Thank-eh Akela." And with that, the goblin pops to the balls of its feet and runs up the staircase, pretending that it has a trunk as it goes.
“Very well, Yhizir, we will do this favor for you, this thing you’re incapable of doing yourself,” Vimak says. “We’ll visit Imsan and ask him about the origins of the illness.” Vimak squats and picks up the map. “Once we’ve finished with the task—doubt it will take long—we can work on the next item on the long list of things you can’t do for yourself, if we’ve time.”
Vimak watches Akela’s conversation with the goblin. Might be useful to have stealthier person with them, but the goblin goes away up the steps. Doesn’t look like it was meant to be.
The question now is if they should visit the Niyin’s friend or Imsan first. And, of course, how they get out of here. Should they make plans in this room or after they have left? He tries to see how Durug, Akela, and Niyin are feeling.
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
NIyin nods and listens along, trying to take in the words and block out the tone, something her mother taught her. When emotions wash over, meanings and details can be lost. She tried her best to always follow it, but she also knew it was her folly at times. “Cow tend,” she muttered to herself. “East sabban.” She had no input to offer as the one named Akela spoke, though Niyin’s frown supported Akela’s displeasure. The guard, Vimak, was more stone towards the storm that spoke to them, spoke down at them, she felt. She nodded to him at the mention of finding the cow tend, thanking and recognizing his help for her small, personal mission.
The change in tone and atmosphere at the appearance of the goblin nibbled at her irritations, and with the man’s sudden outburst, she snapped her hands to her weapon before the Goblin landed. She stilled her hand, knowing that she was in a world where customs were different, but that thought did little to calm her completely until she heard the Goblin speak, assuring her they were at least alive. She heard enough of his explanation, her frowning eyes and set jaw not turning from the man. She nodded once to his address of where to find the cow tend and then walked away stiffly, hand still on her weapon. She pushed the words out of tight set lips as she passed him to approach the Goblin. “Fools wear many masks, Yhizir,” she said through gritted teeth. “And even fools deserve thanks for offered assistance, no matter the ilk it’s dipped in. But, I do not support your treatment of others, slave or otherwise. I pity any who would call you Master.” She offered him no pause to reply and kept going.
Akela made it to the Goblin first. Not trusting her own tense body to offer a kind voice in the moment, she let Aleka speak. When offered a moment, she smiles at the Goblin and says, “My name is NIyin. Pleased to meet you.”
“That could be you. Will be some day.” The voice cackled in her ear. The weight of the imp was nothing, and what little there was, she was so used to that sometimes she forgot the little devil was there. “Remember what your mother said. Walls up, mask on tight, else they will see you for what you really are. Hahaha.” Those weren’t the exact words, the imp was twisting them to prod her fear; and it worked. Niyin backed away a step, letting the shadows of her cloak close around her a little more as she tightened her grip on her cross-body strap. “You should just run away now. Run into he desert, scared little girl.” Niyin shook her head with a violent twist, almost throwing the imp off, but it was ready, for it wasn’t the first time. She focused her attention on the rest of the conversation between Aleka and Dhara until it was done. Though the mystery of who paid the little Goblin to steal a map was alive in her mind.
With the Goblin gone, she let out a sigh, though she wasn’t sure if she was relieved of saddened. She looked up at Aleka, thinking she saw a sadness in her eyes, too. Obviously she wasn’t too impressed with recent events either. Niyin turned away before she stared too long. “I am ready to leave this place,” she said loudly. “The longer we stay, the sicker I feel.” She walked back towards Yhizir and Vimak. “If it pleases you, show us the door or,” she smirked, “since you saw fit to move us here without our permission, perhaps you could be so kind as to move us to where we need to be.”