Secrets Writ and Freely Spoken
Thirty Fifth Day of Olweje-eza (Olweje Ascending) 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
The cabin is bathed in pale steady witchlight, casting even shadows across the table heavy with the best food that drink that could survive the journey to Orinilu, which is to say the meat of a freshly slaughtered hog, dried fruits from the south and hardy grains and roots to make a stew with besides plenty of mead. It would have been a cheerful gathering, at least compared to the lurking fear of the night before, but for the fact that there is no understanding on how to share the spoils, or at least one of them in particular. Antonio is wearing his new boots, light as ever on his feet, but as to the book of incantations and rituals there is no understanding. On the one hand Zaia wishes it for his studies and rightly claims it on the grounds that without his balm you likely could have never overcome the fiend, on the other Esha quietly but firmly insists that it i better suited in her care.
"You would not even be able to read the tongue in which it is written much less untangle the deeper meanings of it, leave it in my care and we shall all see more use of it so long as this journey lasts," says she at last pressed into a show of frustration that had been lurking in her eyes.
"Sooner or later I shall manage it," Zaia insists in turn. "I would wager if I had brought you a book written in my homeland and with my own script you would not be able to read it either at first glance. The worth of lore is not just in the moment and not just in what can be made of it, as though it were saw or hammer."
"Oh?" Esha asks looking suddenly a great deal more confident. "Bring me this tome of yours and we shall see if I can read it or no."
After a moment of hesitation Zaia agrees, curiosity winning over caution. He brings forth a heavy tome bound in fine dark leather edged in leaf of gold, what you suspect to be the holy bible, though you cannot read the Greek lettering upon the spine. Part of you worries that Esha might come to some harm from trying to read that book by sorcerous means, and then you catch yourself, even more troubled that the thought had crossed your mind. What has this world made of you?
Before you can tumble any further down the shaft of your own thoughts the sorceress opens the tome carefully and peers at the lettering, as she does so the confidence fades from her gaze and is replaced with bewilderment, then her eyes glimmer brighter for a moment like a cat's in candle light, but still she does not speak for a long moment longer. "This... this isn't magic, but I cannot read it, I have never seen such a thing."
Rather than crow in triumph Zaia looks if anything even more intrigued, he brings out another book, this one at lest with Latin script, though you cannot read it upside down and on the other side of the table, then a tightly wrapped scroll in flowing Arabic.
"I cannot read any of this... this is mad.. Where did you get any of this? Where do you come from?" Esha cuts herself off and rather than more questions she begins to explain. "Those... like my father do not feed upon flesh or blood, or any other gross matter that defines life, rather they feed upon minds, thoughts, that which makes a man a man and not just a beast that has learned the trick of walking upright. Of this knowlege most is hoarded deep in the caverns of their souls, but in the moment of quickening, when such a soul as mine is brought into the world, some sliver of affinity is passed on. I can with some effort read and understand, though not write or speak, any tongue that was ever spoken by anyone who was victim to a Vetala down the long ages and I did not before think there was any corner of the world untouched by their malice, certainly not whole lands as different in the manner of their script a this..." she taps the scroll with a finger. "And this," she points to the books.
"Well there is seems you have a ready bargain," you interject, seeing the chance to resolve this all amiably. "You could take the grimoire and add its lore to your own, but once it is done you you might share its lore with Zaia and in echange he might reveal this mystery to you and those that come after it."
"Is that entirely wise?" Zaia asks, in French, though not bothering to lower his tone, in the cramped confines of the cabin a whisper would be heard by all regardless.
To that you can but shrug and answer. "You are the one who wishes to learn sorcery, I think the more perilous path by far than simply revealing whence we spring from. A path back there is not." You catch Esha looking back at you not with suspicion, but something softer in her eyes.
Had she caught the pain in those last words? you wonder.
Thankfully that is a matter for another time as Zaia speaks up in Anwari. "That seams to me a fair trade of lore, I will gladly teach you any of the lore that is held in these books and more if you would share your own Lady Esha."
She considers the matter, her expression uncannily alike to that of Zaia himself in that moment. You had not considered the notion of a lady scholar too deeply before, but after a moment's pondering it does not seen so strange to you. Had not Zaia himself sworn by Saint Catherine? Perhaps the comparison may not be the most pious given the nature of your new traveling companion, but it seems fitting just the same.
"We have a bargain then," she says and all of you can return to your meal.
***
Thirty Eight Day of Olweje-eza (Olweje Ascending) 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
Over the next three days as Esha and Zaia keep to each other's company pouring over tomes magical and mundane you spend time with Inge on deck drinking in the newly unveiled sun and keeping company of the rather sheepish Ripper, who according to the girl regrets that he was not here to help you against the Ayushman. For your part you are glad of the absence of the extended hunting trip for you do not think he even his heavy jaws or ripping claws could have helped against the monster's unholy vitality. Better that he keep himself safe.
Over those days as the Marcella and the trailing Fortuna travel ever eastwards borne by the summer winds the girl tells you what she knows of Orinilu from the tales of her former master. Thus you learn that they worship the same pricipal gods as the Anwa though they give more importance to Ashinu than Ikomi and Olweje and the cult of Elnu is... not well loved.
The city was once ruled by the Priest Kings who bowed to Elnu and dictated the fortunes of high and low alike according to the tides of prophecy, that was not to last however. It was little more than a generation ago when after a disastrous drought and an invasion of nomads which left the hinterlands burning and the very walls of the city under threat the populace rebelled and 'cast out' the last heirs of the priest kings. Inge does not know if they were slain or merely exiled only that the city has been lead in a strange manner since, with guilds and merchant houses, leagues of captains and blood kinships all having a place in steering the fortunes of the city under the dominion of a Council of Five.
These five the girl can name for her master had taken care to teach them their titles and their power, first is the High Priest of Ashinu, second the Lord High Admiral of the League of Captains, third the Keeper of the Four Gates, who is in charge of the collection of tax from the city and its tributaries, fourth is the Chief of the Elder Moot, which is the assembly of tribes and kinships which is rotated on a yearly basis and fifth is the Speaker of the Outlands, who by most accounts must speak for the vassal cities dotted over that in another world would be the coast of Catalonia.
The lifeblood of Orinilu is said to be trade, though they also strike silver coins which are valued far an wide for their reliability, indeed they are marked not with the sign of any king or god as other cities along the Blue Sea do but simply with the glyph meaning 'purity', a bold claim but from that you have heard one that has not been disproved in living memory, nor for many years before.
What do you do next?
[] Speak to Esha more about her past, and what she plans to do in the future
[] Spend some time with Silver, he seems moody and troubled over these last few days
[] Speak with Tom to see how the men have been taking the perils and the strangeness of the journey
[] Write in
OOC: Welp this is a big 'un. Thanks to the bonus from Zaia's own roll you guys get to keep your meta diplo re-roll for another time, you made the DC from the first, also some more lore about everything from Vetalas to Orinilu (since you voted for that at the start of the journey). Hope you enjoy.