Age of Ice and Blood: A Pathfinder System Heroic Fantasy Quest

[DragonParadox]

Price of Passage ​

The Thirty Eight of Elnu-eza [Elnu Ascendant], Year Unknown

The girl's words were soft but sure, no error in translation there. The man's were harsh and commanding as one evicting a trespasser from his lands, or his waters you suppose, but you cannot imagine that he and his kindred hold the straights between the rich cities you have heard of and the sailors of the Sunset Islands. Brigands then, opportunists looking for an excuse to fight?

Those furs will not turn a well shot arrow much less sharpened steel and they would struggle to come over the ship's side, but these Stout Folk have numbers and you do not doubt they have courage to sail in such small boats as these. To fight here and now would be a risk, but perhaps you might feign a withdraw then turn about and breakthrough the ambush.

Yet still something gnaws at you, the thought of shedding the blood of those you know so little of and more even than that at the word 'curse'. Had that the dead sorcerer laid some lasting harm upon you or upon the ship? You must know, and if the answer should allow you to see the end of this without bloodshed so much the better. "Ask him what manner of curse this is and if it might be of some kinship with the dead that walk," you say to Inge.

The girl says something, speaking slowly, her eyes darting to the advancing boats while Antonio curses under his breath and looks to Nico and the others with hands upon the bow string, but he gives no order to attack for the men are yours to command.

There is a quick back and forth of explanations, Inge sounding pleading and the leader of the strange men still unrelenting, pointing back the way you came. Then quick as lightning the girl pulls a knife from her pocket and before anyone can react slits it across her palm and lets the blood flow into the sea. A oath in blood, that you understand even without words.

The man speaks at length then and finally Inge turns to you and explains. "The ship feels strange to them, to their spirits, distant, far, not from here, but heavy with magic. I swore on life that it is no work of mine, no weapon, curse or... er, sickness."

Part of you wants to ask what does it mean to be 'heavy with magic' but you doubt she would be able to get that across with the words she has, certainly not in good time, so you instead asks. "Why do they fear it?"

As doctor Zaia moves to bandage her hand with a annoyed look she recounts. "When much magic, when there is much magic in place, the world grows thin. Powers, ghosts... no, spirits can pass like through a door half open." Inge waves at the sea and sky. "Good spirits have friends to call them to this side when they want, bad spirits must walk through unguarded door, dangerous yes?"

"Bullshit, my ship is full of magic and fit to sprout goblins!" Antonio spits much to your surprise after all you have been through and all you have seen, then you looks around to the faces of the men, both yours and the sailors, changing from fear to anger and you understand. Whether the captain believes it or not he cannot allow the notion to stand unchallenged.

"Is there any exorcism, banishing of dark spirits that they would be willing to do in order to let us pass?" the doctor asks before Inge can reply to the outburst. "True or false we must get through and I would rather do so smelling of mirth than blood."

Again another back and forth you are not privy to then the child turns to speak to the captain. "The Stout Folk do not know workings to cleanse wood, sail, rope and oar, but..." she takes a deep breath. "I do. It is dangerous for... doing alone, unless you have no choice, call the Veiled Ones to... eat magic, to close door from the other side."

Behind her Zaia freezes like a man suddenly in the path of a sword stroke and then he says in French. "I would not advise that, these Veiled Ones are specters of sorts, souls given to Ikomi who may return in death for an offering of blood. Even if the good captain were willing to allow it the men would mutiny at the sight more likely than not."

Inge is having none of it though, she continues to speak to Antonio. "You can leave ship on south shore away from Stout Folk, then take men off for bit at moonrise, ship cleared and maybe blessing on something, good magic for you to use."

As she speaks the captain opens his mouth to refuse, then stops when he hears the last. You are not sure if you should be glad of the child's insight into his character or curse it. Before you can decide the white haired elder speaks again, briefly, and this time Inge translates word for word. "He says he will not let us pass with wild magic, but if I can tame it then the spirits will be still and he and his will have no quarrel with us."

What do you argue?

[] Turn back and make for one of the other cities, perhaps you will find a more experienced magician there

[] Feign a retreat then try to push through

[] Allow Inge to attempt the ritual

[] Write in

OOC: Inge was rolling 1d20+1 against a DC of 15 to prove her sincerity. She got an 18.

 

[DragonParadox]

Veiled Words ​

The Thirty Eight of Elnu-eza [Elnu Ascendant], Year Unknown

Blood still drips from the child's hand as she speaks and in your mind there hangs still the memory of her all-but collapsing after dealing death to the undead. Even if you were inclined to allow her to work her magic and summon forth the dead for counsel or for aid, she is but a child and you will not see her suffer in your defense, certainly not for the sake of offering Antonio some power or enchantment. "We should turn back, return when the wind is with us with men at the oars, they would not trap us so easily then," you say in French to Antonio.

The merchant looks around him, weighs his odds and, to his credit, nods, saying to the girl: "We go back then, I do not wish to trouble the living, much less the dead in our travels. Our cargo will sell just as well in Ibanora or Orinlu as in the Sunset Islands I am sure and mayhap there we will have our answers."

"I can do it," Inge insists, but you can hear the uncertainty in her voice and in that you are not alone, to judge from the look Zaia is giving her. Seeing that her words will not sway any of you she turns to the leader of the strange men and repeats what she had been told. The answer she translates in return makes for ill hearing. "He says he does not trust us for we are strangers here and so our leader must give pledge under the eyes of the Owl that you will leave and not seek to pass the ship through the Mouth of the World," she hesitates a moment and adds. "He is not sure which of you is the leader of the ship."

Your stomach lurches unpleasantly when you realize that you had pushed Antonio into swearing a false oath, to a foe unlooked for is it may be, and for a moment you consider taking on the burden upon yourself, but then he says still in French. "Then it shall it be me for certain for I am much the better liar." The words are light and spoken with a smile and so you can find no fault in them.

Slowly and absent any of his guards the white haired elder climbs onto the deck of the ship and strikes the deck of the ship with his staff, the timbers hum, the air is still... and for the fourth time in your life you feel magic in the air, sticking your tongue to the floor of your mouth, as though a distant piercing light which the eye cannot see, but the mind can still perceive is upon you.

You shall not lie.

Weight of that compulsion is almost suffocating.

"Step back, he does not wish to hear from you," Inge whispers.

As you do, hand instinctively gripping the hilt of your sword, Antonio remains in place and through some deftness of the tongue that you in that moment lack he tells the old man what he wishes to hear, he lies without a care for strange powers. In all your life you have never thought to feel such envy towards a man swearing a false oath.

***​

The Thirty Ninth of Elnu-eza [Elnu Ascendant], Year Unknown

The Marcella turns about slowly and it sails against the current back eastwards until sunset, then Antonio asks the girl. "What say your birds? Are there any other watchers in sky or sea?"

She looks to him for a long moment as if frozen in place, unable to believe the implications. "You want break vow?"

The captain shrugs. "If a man makes me swear an oath with steel to my throat then he aught to expect it to last as long as the chill of it upon my skin."

Inge is not listening, she has already left to her cabin in the patter of hurried feet. Antonio sniffs and sets back upon his task, turning the ship about and setting men to the oars. That night you pass by the straights in the moonlit dark and into the wide western ocean. A brisk breeze is upon your face and the freedom of wider waters all about you... but by the next morning Inge still has not returned to the deck.

You seek her out and find her curled by the window, looking out with hollow eyes at the waters. "Don't want to come back home a liar, a coward," is all she says and to that you have no answer to give, all the reasoning you had prepared crumbling like dust, for that thought is as familiar to you as waking in a sweat, the clash of steel and the moans of the dying still echoing from dreams not quite past.

As you sit there in silence the ship rocks hard against the motion of the waves, then it is still and all is quiet.

"Better than not to come back at all," you answer both for yourself and for her.

What do you do for the next month as the Marcella sails west?

[] Get to know one of your companions (Obtain character sheet if successful)
-[] Antonio (DC 26)
-[] Zaia (DC 22)
-[] Inge (DC 17)

[] Spend time with Jon Lorson, these may yet be his last days and you are the closest thing to kin he has on this ship

[] Practice the tongue of the Sunset Islands with Zaia and Inge (DC 15 Intelligence check for Basic proficiency)

[] Write in

OOC: Yes, that was Zone of Truth and you failed your save, but fortunately Antonio did not fail his.

 

[DragonParadox]

Wind and Whisper ​

The Twentieth of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

Pull... beat... beat... Pull.

All notion of rowing being beneath your dignity were crushed by the undeniable weight of sheer necessity, of survival. You had thought the waters cold and the wind biting on the other side of the Mouth of the World, but besides what you find in the Great Sunset Sea it may as well have been a warm summer breeze bearing light morning dew. You can imagine the scene on deck all too well. Rain and storm rolled in behind you swifter than the Marcella's sails could carry her, white capped swells rolling alongside and drenching over the low deck. All around you the timbers of the ship groan and shift in the brief moments of heart-pounding stillness before the next pull of the oars.

Sailors are braver men than you thought them to be to put their backs into this sort of work, trusting their captain, never knowing if the sea would rush into claim them. Time seems to stretch and twist uneasily as the body screamed for release and the mind was left wandering.

Pull... beat... beat... Pull.

After a time you could not rightly name the groaning of the ship grows less, the men begin to talk between greedy gulps of air. There is more time to drink. Stale water spiced with worse spirits never tasted so fine.

"Looks as though the sea won't be getting the best of us today, will it lads?" you call back. You had heard this sort of boasting is supposed to be bad luck, but you do not give a shit. Your armsmen's hearts could do with a good cheer and cheer they do.

***​

Rain still beats down on the deck, cool rivulets slipping under your tunic to mingle with the sweat of the day's rowing, but you do not have much attention to spare for the sky. Inge is sitting cross legged at the bow of the ship looking straight at the western horizon, her eyes are closed, her hands clenched about a piece of driftwood carved like the wishbone of a bird. She is praying. Is it chance that the storm had abated now or something more? you wonder, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

Whenever the weather had been foulest the girl had always sat just there, eyes closed and thoughts elsewhere. "Good to be close, to tell captain course," is all she had said, but you had heard more to it. She was preying to her goddess and here in the midst of the dark waves foaming white and the cutting wind, you could almost believe there is an uncanny will to the sea, wild and untamed, beyond the ken of men whose words are upon its face as child's toys.

"Come, it's over," you say ushering the girl into the warmth and light of the cabin where you are greeted by the sight of Zaia, somehow still managing to read those tablets of his even through the storm.

'To truly speak a tongue you must understand the people to whom it belongs,' he had said when you had first proposed to learn Inge's tongue and you had thought it a warning against the work it would take. In truth you are beginning to suspect it runs far deeper.

You know six words tor wind and another four for storm, you can name the sacred standing stones by which the Sky-Seers of Ikomi measure time, you know the name of the great leviathans of the deep waters, Ejun, and those who hunt them, for bone, meat and ivory, Ogonbo. You know the words for war, both restrained by ritual and vow fought in deadly earnest.

The Anwa, the people of the Sunset Islands are still strangers, but they are more than just a means of getting answers, they are their own people seen through the eyes of one of their own. Part of you wonders if you had first heard of the Saracen from the mouth of one who lived as they do, who believed as they do, would you have been so eager to shed their blood and count it justice?

Basic Knowledge of the Anwari Tongue gained.

What questions do you have for Inge now that you can understand her tongue and she yours to at least some degree?

[] Of faith

[] Of her family

[] Of lords and kings

[] Write in

OOC: You guys were unlucky for the weather but Antonio make his Profession Sailing roll and you also made your Intelligence roll so now you actually get to know what some of the locals are actually saying without a translator.

 

[DragonParadox]

In Bitter Waters ​

The Twenty First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

There is land on the horizon, a smudge of black fading slowly into green as the oars of the galley strain against the shifting winds that supposedly give the place its name, Lirman, Hardharbor. Tired cheers ring out over the deck. Finally land and the promise of civilization. Most of those aboard had become so inured to the strangeness of your journey that even an unknown port filled with heathens was better than the expanse of the sea.

Only you recall most keenly that it is not strange for all. For one odd girl it is a homecoming and not a welcome one from what she had told you before. You find Inge perched on the aft side of the ship, her feet dangling precariously over the edge.

"Yes?" she asks, to your surprise in French and not Sicilian. Is it a desire to be able to speak your tongue for its own sake that drove her to start learning, or to avoid being deceived as you and Antonio had done when speaking with the Stout Folk?

"I was curious..." you say in her tongue, forming the syllables carefully, the graceful tones and sudden stops still perched uneasily upon your tongue. "What can we expect for a greeting when we make port? And..." It almost feels like too personal a question, but you feel responsible for the girl. "What about you?"

"Lirman not home yet, home is on Korman, on Great Harbor," she explains, then rather than falling silent as you fear she might do, the girl continues almost as if a dam had been broken or a confession needed to be spoken. "They maybe not like me here if they know what I am, I don't have to tell them though." There is something painfully like guilt in her eyes.

Rather than press with another question you are silent, listening for when she finds the words.

"My magic, my Ikomi-blessing, is strange. I know that for you far-folk all magic strange, but mine is so even among my own kin because I too brave, too quick forward, too...

"Willful, I think we would say," you provide, though with a smile on its tail. "For my part I am very glad for your will else I would not be alive and speaking to you now. Willful just means you do not let grass grow between your toes, eh?"

Something about that strikes her as indefinably amusing and it takes her the span of three long breaths to stop laughing. Alas, the tale she tells in its wake trying to explain who she is and maybe even most painfully why she is no lighthearted manner.

Inge you learn had been born to a family of herdsmen. Ten children born to her mother and of them eight still live. She had been born ninth and on top of that came into the world into the teeth of the winter storms such that if her kin had been only a little less thrifty or a little less lucky she might not have had the chance to see the spring. Yet as she had grown she was oft in the company of seabirds and ever drawn to the sea, a blessing that while not unknown among her folk was uncommon indeed in the cottage of a goatherd. So it was that she had been 'apprenticed' with a distant cousin who was a fisherman by trade. From the way she describes it the deal was less apprenticeship and more outright sale, for twelve jugs of fish oil and ten coils of rope.

Inge bore no love for her distant kin and so when the Wave Speakers passed through the village looking for those with the touch of Ikomi she did not hide as many did, for the rumor was that the trials were hard and few priests returned to their home villages, but instead stepped forth. When her master had heard of this he had cursed her for an ungrateful brat, but she was unmoved. Then he had said that in leaving she voided her father's contract and he would seek damages by Law of Silver and Law of Blood, reparations and a duel, you deduce....

"I didn't want to go back, I didn't even know if he was telling the truth about father." Her voice is so low you can barely catch it now. "The priestess was leaving and would not come back for three seasons. I couldn't- I just couldn't..."

"Children should honor their parents, but it is not for one as young as you to bear your father's burdens," you reply firmly. Then in a less certain tone. "If you felt you were being called to serve... Ikomi, then..." you are honestly not even sure how to finish the sentence.

Thankfully she saves you from trying. "I made a vow to the stupid kin-not-kin. Said I would grow to be great storm-weaver, make lighting my spear and the wind my shield. And then when I came back in glory I would pay nine times nine whatever contract he made with father. Wasn't expecting to come home so fast. Ilfa said we would be years in the sunrise lands."

And now she thinks you made a coward and a liar of her by dealing falsely with the Stout Folk. You sigh. "I am sorry Inge, for what took place at the straight, no matter the justification we offered as leaders of men you showed nothing but courage and honesty. And I am sorry for not asking more about your people and what awaited you on these islands sooner..."

"How ask?" she interrupts a little wistfully. "You not have words, I not have words. You do not need to bear my burdens," she echoes what you had said before. Then with a smile that tries but fails to reach her eyes. "This just Lirman, not Korman, not really going back home-home."

What do you reply?

[] Thank her for her honesty once again and leave

[] Promise to help Inge fulfill her vow

[] Write in

OOC: You guys did not quite roll high enough to get the whole story, that would have taken a near crit for diplomacy, but you did pretty well.

 

[DragonParadox]

Beneath Pale Boughs ​

The Twenty First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

Your mind is already running over the cost of fish oil and rope before you even realize what you mean to say. "If by word or deed I can help you fulfill your vow, I shall."

In the face of the girl's amazed expression giving way to the brightest smile you have yet seen upon her face even the realization that you had promised to help her become a more powerful magician pales. If the power she calls on be evil than surely you would know that by now, either by some secret stirring in your soul or by a sign from on high. Absent both you can but treat Inge for what she has done, not how she has done it, and those deeds have been nothing but good to you and yours, and if anything more honorable than you have been since the storm, good reason or no.

Thus is it with a lighter heart than you have had in a while that you look towards land, and the chance for Silver to stretch his legs. The island ahead, Lirman, is long and low, laying down white beaches into the waves though away to the south you can see the hint of a modest peak. All around you long sleek fishing boats with a single square sail cut through the waves and cast their nets into the waters, though none come close enough to hail you, perhaps wary of the Marcella's obviously foreign make.

As to the port of Apadu itself it seems both much larger and of obviously different make than the abandoned settlement you had set out from. For one it is made almost entirely of wood and not stone, for another they seem to have some sort of greenish roof, like fresh pine needles. It takes you a moment to realize what you are looking at... Every house in the city is built around the trunk of a large tree with a flat green crown that grows almost parallel to the ground. The sloping thatched roofs that grow out from the crown of the trees seem to be trying to match the texture of its canopy and the wood of which the walls are built bears the same pallor in the bright sunlight.

"Hearth trees," Inge explains, a note of longing in her words almost in spite of herself, although you note that the actual hearths are placed well away from the trees at the heart of each house, as can be seen by the thin trails of smoke rising into the clear blue skies.

Spoiler: Hearth Tree

"Those are the clan holds of each lineage in the city," Zaia explains from beside you. "They carve the names of their forefathers into the living wood and those trees are never cut, but left to stand until they wither and die of their own accord. Only then are they cut with reverence and many songs in honor of Ashinu are sung, and they are either buried at the roots of a new tree or carved into the prow of a ship which sets off in search of new lands across the sea. There are ballads sung to the Lost Trees, though I confess my understanding of the language is not good enough to be able to appreciate even such of them as Inge can sing."

"That is still more of an understanding than I can manage I fear," you laugh. Pointing at the stone structure at the heart of the settlement, you ask. "Is that the keep of their lord or the temple to their god?" It certainly would not even be able to fit the townsfolk long in the event of a siege, but it looks tall and strong enough that you would not wish to assault it with anything less than a decent siege train. There are slits for arrows at every level you would wager, and if there are no murder-holes in that wooden overhang you will eat your boots raw.

"That is indeed the hall of the local... well, not just lord, but king of all the island. Though the kings of the Anwe rule with a light hand by necessity for their people are proud and warlike, with even the least freeman demanding to have his voice heard and his grievances known. I suspect we bring the potential of great wealth to the islands, if only because our arts and works are different from them, but we should be careful how we show them... and how we show ourselves."

How do you present to the King of Lirman?

[] As lost merchants from far off lands (Antonio takes the lead)

[] As a lord and his retinue (Roland takes the lead)

[] Try to explain how you are different from each other from the start and who he should deal with for what

[] Write in

OOC: I know I said you guys would make landfall, but the description of the town was odd enough that I felt it merited its own update and the chance to decide how you would introduce yourselves.

 

[DragonParadox]

Seeking Sanctuary ​

The Twenty First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

By the time the weary ship had cast anchor as close to the shore as the captain could manage, the better to get the horses off, a crowd was already gathering on the shore, your first glimpse of Inge's people. Of face, hair and eye they were much the same as her, and given the cabin boy's clothes she might have been mistaken for a daughter of Genoa herself. Yet beyond the merely physical everything had a touch of the strange and foreign about the Anwa, from the way the language they spoke shaped their expressions to the elaborate braiding of hair for men and woman which each carried some special significance; whether one was wed or unwed, a master of craft or merely an apprentice, sworn to a certain god or walking under the guidance of all.

Truth be told you could not recall all the specifics merely from Inge's accounts, but it does not take much familiarity with the land to know what it means that some of the people watching have their hair bound with leather and bone and others with silver chain and bands of gold. There the marks of standing glitter like fire in the sun.

"Hail to lord and welcome to land," you call down. Even if you had the cause and the will do lie it would be unwise to do so, knowing so little of your hosts and their ways... or their powers. Your mind seems to flinch way from the memory of the compulsion that the with haired sorcerer had laid on you. "We are travelers from lands far off and heavy lies the burden of days upon us."

A rustle of surprise runs through the crowd and many questions are shouted up at you, but none with any great strength or authority, until that is the watchers part and in their midst walks a man with a warrior's broad shoulders, his beard white and back bent with the weight of many winters. Into that hair no braid has been worked and that sign you recall all too well. 'Those Ikomi-sowrn do not bind their hair or beard, but leave them free in the wind...' This man is a sorcerer as sure as Inge herself is.

Spoiler: Anwa Mage

"Yet for such strange travelers you have found Apadu with sight most keen and you speak our tongue also," the old wizard says. His kilt belted with vibrant green leaves is long, almost to the ankles, and of fine white goat's wool, you note. It would drag in the dirt if he had to do any labor of note. You are reminded suddenly and unpleasantly of the rich gold threaded cassock of the briefly seated Bishop of Damietta. Yet his words seem only curious. "How did you come by this skill?"

"By good fortune and a kind heart," Inge speaks up from beside you, standing as tall ass she can, which admittedly is not that tall at all. "I was lost on strange shores with no allies but those rising from the Mother's waves and I would surely have perished had whisper from whisper not reached their ears. I ask that they be given the freedom of the shore..."

This time the faces of the crowd reflect more than surprise, disbelief and the beginnings of anger even you spy in their eyes, but none interrupt the old man. "By what right do you speak of Her Law?" he asks, tone unchanged.

At this Inge cups her hands and whispers in that strange cold tongue that is not the one she had taught you and Zaia, and the mist of her breath grows and grows, billows about her until she is wreathed in fog despite the bright sun above. "By the right of Ikomi's blessing, claimed with mine own hand."

The old man nods as the anger seems to drain out of the crowd. "So you have and thus is your right, but tell us strangers, for what cause do you come to our shores beyond the need of sanctuary? "

It is Zaia who responds now, his words smoother than yours for his is the longer practice and greater skill as well. "We are lead by a merchant in matters of trade and no doubt there shall be profit seen there, for the hold is filled with many precious things." He motions to you. "In matters of war a warrior shall lead."

In response the sorcerer's eyes pass over you again, bright beneath the aged brow, but they do not linger there long, but instead pass to Tom standing a few feet behind you, in particular to his chain shirt. "Warriors bold in battle and honorable in peace-holy are ever welcome in our lands. Do you then swear by Elnu who is Lord of Law and binder of fates to keep peace in word and deed, and in all ways honor the king's hall while you are within it as a guest?"

"He is trying to keep us under his lord's eye or perhaps his own, strange as we are," Zaia says in French, his tone just above a whisper so as not to seem furtive.

What do you reply?

[] We shall swear, but upon our own god

[] There is no need for such lofty guesting, generous though it may be, but worry not we shall keep the peace

[] Swear the vow as you have been asked (Diplomacy DC 22 to get your men to go along with it)

[] Write in

OOC: For anyone wondering about when you get the DCs and when you do not, it is a matter of familiarity. Roland knows his men-at-arms so he can estimate how hard it would be to convince them of something, if it were a matter of convincing a stranger he would not know.

 

[DragonParadox]

Of a Different Coat​

The Twenty First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

It does not take more than a glance to read the conviction in Zaia's eyes, he will not swear by any other God save Him who is Father, Son and the Holy Spirit. Left to his own devices perhaps Antonio might, but not here and surely not in public. Yet the choice is not upon any of them, for they did not claim responsibility for bearing arms, it is upon you to speak for your sake and for those few sons of Normandy set upon this strange shore. "Your god is not our god, and so it would be an ill thing and false to swear by a name strange to us. By our Lord in Heaven I vow to do no evil to those who do not do evil onto us, to shed no blood rashly or with malice and in all things to act as guests in the halls of the King of Lirman."

Beside you Inge whispers something to Tom and then somewhat to your surprise the doughty warrior repeats in Anwari 'I so vow' though he knows not the meaning of the words, the others echo him, trusting in him and in you.

The old man stands there for a long breathless moment, then a genial smile spreads over his features. "The tree strong rooted does not bend in the west wind. Know that Ohun Greenbelt finds your vow right by Elnu, whose name you would not speak, as leaf on wind to your honor."

There are a few cheers from the crowd, though mostly confused shuffles... which quickly grow to stepping well back as the first horses are disembarked in the wake of lines being cast and planks laid. You wince as you see even Silver walk on shaky legs, shivering as he tosses his head this way and that at the light and noise. "Easy there boy, easy now..."

The paths of Apuku were not really made for horses and it is clear from the gaze of the locals that they have never seen the like before. The sorcerer Ohun speaks to Inge briefly, too quick for you to catch the meaning, though she quickly turns to translate. "He asked if horses were work beasts or free beasts, and I said work like the goats and pig. He asks if they need their own pasture away from others or if they can share..."

Zaia clears his throat. "When she says 'pig' it would be more accurate to think of them as boars, tusks and all, from what I understand of those the Anwa keep."

With a nod of thanks to the scholar you consider the options. A common pen would make it more easy for others to get near the horses which you had just found to be uncommon and therefore potentially quite valuable, but on the other hand asking that they be given their own pasture would mean that your men would have to do all the feeding and care, not to mention that it would be a greater request of your host, one you would have to repay eventually in gold or favor.

What do you reply?

[] Ask for a separate pasture

[] The common pasture will do

OOC: Rather brief because I needed the vote squared away before you make it to the king's hall, those horses need off the ship yesterday. Also you found a very good place for a diplo crit.

 

[DragonParadox]

Beasts of Bronze​

The Twenty First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

"Hugh, see to the horses," you call to the young man. It should keep him away from the drink he is all too likely to indulge in at least, not that he has the coin for it. For the first time in months you wonder what the coin you had brought back with you from the Holy Land is worth. You reach out to the coin pouch under your tunic, feeling the familiar, reassuring weight. It comes to about forty golden nobles worth in the coin of six realms, gold and silver plundered and saved alike, a poor reward for so much blood shed and so many lives cut short to the hollow fury of a war signifying nothing, but still they might serve you well in a land where you have nothing else of worth. Almost nothing, recalling the arms and armor taken from the dead. The bows you have found a use for, but blades and scale coats alike you could sell.

'Gain' 40 Gold

The thought cuts off instantly as you turn the corner following Ohun and come face to face with a monster, hand already reaching for your sword before you realize it is not scales, but bronze glinting dull green in the light of the bright southern sun, a silent sentinel on the road leading from the sea to the hall of the king. It's front half is familiar, feline but with the touch of the sea about it like Ripper, but this effigy has wings halfway between bird and bat and rather than the tail of a fish it has that of a serpent.

Spoiler: Chimera

Ohun looks back at you, his features carefully composed. "That is the King's beast, fearsome and strong," you do not catch all the words for he is still speaking too quickly for you at times.

"Is that the seal of the Kings of Lirman in Apuku?" you ask, at once intrigued and strangely repulsed as though seeing the face of a half forgotten nightmare.

The girl shakes her head. "That is the Blood-Drinker of Lirman, he was king before the kings, Lord of all from a throne of stone atop the highest peak until the first Anwa king came and killed him, making a coat from his scales. Now men lords of Lirman..." she stops to think a moment. "Kings of places were men are at least. Beasts of wild not care, beasts of seas even less."

You nod, not taking your eyes off the statue, though you soon have to as it is lost in the noise and tumult of a marketplace. Hardly the great bazaar of Alexandria this, which had befuddled you with the sight of silk, the smell of spices and the song of a dozen lands, but it is no village market either. Arrayed on narrow twisting paths which coil around hall and hearth tree are stalls hawking everything from flatbread and roasted lamb sizzling on hot stones to carvings of bone, hardwood and ivory to beads of glass, amber and polished stone for which you know not the names of even in French or English much less Anwari. Here Antonio too lingers, looking with interest as a grey haired matron counts small square coins on a string on her belt before sweeping them over.

It is only now that you notice many women wearing their coins thus, not just around the waist, but the neck and even the wrist... some of the men as well, it had just been harder to tell due to the many braided beards about. In fact the only people you see without such monetary decorations are shabby enough that they might be beggars or vagabonds. Do they not have pickpockets here to flaunt their coin so readily?

That seems a rather churlish question to lead with so you follow your guide until you come out of the market, past the largest homes of more established clans to stand at last before the doors of the king. Of heavy oak they are but unbound with any metal and when the sorcerer touches them they slide open with the merest touch.

Inge catches your eye and shakes her head. It takes you a moment to realize what she must mean. 'Not magic.' Truth be told you are not entirely sure what to feel about the fact that the girl already knows you that well, but you know gratitude is a large part of it.

Thankfully you are not lead at once into an audience with the king, for you are surely not fit for any sort of royal presence as you are smelling of salt and the sweat of long rowing. Instead you, Antonio and Zaia are all given plain serviceable chambers in the keep while your men are quartered in what looks to be an empty barn. The view of the sea from the high window is really not worth the fact that the bed is a stone slab, you would rather have hay on the floor, but one can hardly complain.

In parting the sorcerer tells you that his master, King Ansefu, will see you two days hence and that in the meantime you have the freedom of the city as his guests.

What do you do over the next two days (Choose Two)?

[] Accompany Antonio to the market, both to buy, sell and to keep the merchant safe

[] Keep an eye on Inge, a sorceress she may be, but she is still a child

[] Accompany Zaia as he seeks out scholars and navigators trying to discern where you are

[] See if you can find a healer for Hugh the Elder's wounds

[] Exercise Silver and the other horses after their long sea journey

[] Speak to Ohun about the strange words of the Stout Folk in order to try to deal with this unseen magic

OOC: You guys obviously did not gain that gold, it was just kind of pointless to have it on the sheet before you made it to civilization.

 

[DragonParadox]

Stranger's Hand ​

The Twenty First of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

One of the first things one learns upon going to war is that there are some wounds that are wholly in the hands of God and His angels, and Hughhas been struck down by one leaving him passing between waking and sleeping at all hours of day and night requiring that someone be with him constantly, to offer food and water or to see to his chamber pot. There are whispers in the ranks, nothing loud enough to trace, but heard just the same.

'Perhaps it might be best to leave off the leech's visits.'

'He would not want to live as less than a whole man.'

They say that war makes brothers and you have found it so, but it is just as true that the whiff of the sickroom has lost as many bothers and more than battle made. You bite back a sigh and almost wish you could hate them for it. All of you are so very few here and so very lost.

A small hand tugs at your sleeve. That you had not heard Inge come in speaks more of your distraction than any particular skill on her part. "There is other healing... special healing."

It does not take much thought to figure out which word she is dancing about. "Magic healing?"

"Yes," she breathed and sits across from you, seemingly unbothered by the thin straw cushions over the hard stone chair.

Truth be told you are not sure how to feel about that. If someone had asked you three months ago if you were willing to trust the healing of your body and the health of your soul to some hedge witch or cunning folk you would have said no and cursed them for good measure, but you are weary and not just from rowing, weary of mind and soul, weary of fear and ever being on your guard. Prayer does not steel your soul against temptation, if anything you come away from it contemplating God with more questions than answers. Perhaps that is the answer, seek what this land is before you judge it.

"Life, green-growing, red-flowing," Inge's voice takes on an almost sing-song tone, like she is recounting something learned by rote. "We all have life-soul, have magic. It's not... wrong."

You wish you could ask the man on the bed, the last magic he had seen was the walking dead trying to wring the life out of him, but at the day's end you are his lord and so must judge for better or for worse. The question remains where could you find such a healer...

***​

The Twenty Second of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

Alas the answer is nowhere, or at the very least not anywhere you can find them. The servants in the king's hall claim ignorance, one of the guards whom you had eventually paid off with silver sends you to one of his distant kin who is nothing more than a herbalist. There is no healing to be found among the bunches of pungent herbs and dead flowers Inge explains. The man would have been offended if he were not frightened of you and of her in equal measure.

Yet as evening flows in warm velvet shadows over the streets of Apuku you find your answer where you had started, or at least you find an answer. "I have need of the services of a skilled warrior and that you are a foreigner is perhaps all the better, yes..." The sorcerer Ohun strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Something has disturbed the stones of a holy place on the slopes of Mount Ikoru, be it outlaw, beast or Lonely Folk, bring word of what it is and in exchange before you even head out I shall heal your man."

Though you know not what 'Lonely Folk' are you do not ask that, but instead cut to the heart of the matter. "Why do you judge a stranger would be best to bring you news?"

"Because you are unlikely to spread rumors about whatever you find up there," the mage replies, then quickly presses on. "So are you interested in such a task?"

[] No, you are not a sellsword, still less the errand boy of a strange king's servants

[] Yes, healing Hugh will be a weight off your mind and you are not even asked to fight, only to scout

[] Write in

OOC: Welp you failed to find a healer in the city, but there is other stuff happening in the background.

 

[DragonParadox]

Of Life and Death ​

The Twenty Second of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent], Year Unknown

"If you can truly do this thing you claim then I shall scout these standing stones for you." You take a deep breath, then another. It only gets easier... Whether or not it should you cannot say for certain, but one thing you do know as sure as the earth is under your feet, there is no arguing with death. If Hugh wants to curse at you for seeing him healed by a sorcerer then he can and seek his peace with God afterwards, but if he is dead you will never know if he would have rather lived.

In his place you certainly would have.

Thus it is that you stand in the door of the sickroom, watching the old man walk up to Hugh's pallet. He takes a small clay jar out of his robes and rubs a dark red paste onto his hands while speaking into his beard, his voice too low to carry. With each syllable the red in his hands is growing brighter and brighter still until it looks as though his hands are covered in fresh blood...

You open your mouth to shout something, whether a warning or a demand for answers even you do not know, but before you can speak Ohun places his hand on Hugh's forehead and there is a flash that does not dazzle the eye but befuddles the mind.

Hugh opens his eyes, blinking blearily against the fading light of evening streaming through the window. "Who the fuck are you?" he asks in French.

"He thanks you for your healing, wise one," you hasten to 'translate'. From the amused look in his eye you do not think Ohun entirely believed you.

***​

That is not the last you see of the sorcerer that evening for he invites Inge to dine with him and speak of how she had come to be lost. He seems surprised but not displeased to see you in her company, quick to call for another chair and another plate. You use your own belt knife and there is no use for spoons. Most of the food eaten is wrapped up in flat bread and again for the most part it is familiar fare, goat meat and fish with Egyptian Peas and a side of the same odd red beer you had sampled from the island. But when the time comes to eat desert you are not sure what to compare the odd yellow and reddish fruit that is served up in bite-sized slices, perhaps some sort of enormous plum crossed with an apricot. Inge calls them 'Sunfruit' from the Great Lands.

Well whatever they may be you have to agree that they taste great.

Spoiler: Strange Fruit

It is only once the meal is done that Ohun begins to question Inge and at first the girl is quite agreeable in her answers. She recounts how she and her master, Ilfa, had left Korman on a journey to the eastern lands, planning to learn what they could of the mysteries and ways of the Blue Sea folk while also letting the sea teach them, the ways and currents passing along strange shores. The wind was favorable and they made good time towards the Speartip Islands, planning to partake of the Ojo Iku ceremonies on the islands, the Day of the Dead.

"It is said the dead are less greedy of their secrets than the living," Ohun offers, his tone light, his eyes deep searching. "Perhaps that is why your master sought the islands."

"Maybe, he didn't tell me," Inge hesitates. "He said something about the bones of the land, the light of Green Eye revealing that which the light of the sun could not." Then she is silent a long while. "There was a fight, not sure why, the Orinilusi shot a us with arrows unaware, all perished but me. Ilfa told me to run, gave me piece of greenstone... piece of Eye and told me to run." She does not weep, though you suspect it costs her much to swallow the tears. "Ilfa was lost, they didn't bury him right, so he came back, they all came back and killed the Orilinusi. He wanted the stone... but I could not give it to him, not when he was lost..."

The story she tells from then on is a familiar one, how she had hidden in the abandoned village and sought counsel with the fish and birds, how she eventually found Ripper and sent him searching for a ship to mount a rescue. Finally how you and Zaia had found her in that last dreadful confrontation with her former master.

However your mind keeps coming back to what Ilfa might have wanted to do on the Spear Islands to begin with, and in the company of so many armed men. That does not strike you as a man going to a festival with a humble heart and a wish to learn. Had he been planning to betray his hosts and steal their secrets from the start?

Do you reveal your suspicion?

[] Yes
-[] To Inge she is most likely to be able to confirm or deny it
-[] To Ohun when you are alone, his heart is not bound up in the matter and he has dealt with you fairly thus far

[] No, it is none of our business, let the dead keep their secrets

[] Write in

OOC: I am not going to reveal how high the wisdom save was on this one since it would be something of a spoiler on its own. You guys are just going to have to judge from IC context if Roland is barking up the right tree with his suspicion.