Of Menace and Mirth
The Twenty Fifth of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent] Year 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
"I have more questions before I can say yea or nay," you reply at length.
Alas, the well spirit does not take the answer well. "Questions, questions, mortals always have more of them, especially when they think they can get answers and not pay for them. Know then that I am not minded to reward thee for thine impertinence, man of iron."
"I asked that you should spare my man despite his faults, yet what would it serve me to see one armsman spared only for all the rest of my company to suffer from battle taken up in rank ignorance?" You keep your tone even, but your gaze does not waver. You swore that you would dance to no man's strings when you took ship from Egypt and you are not minded to let this thing change that simply because it might not be wholly a man.
The spirit sighs, the sound like onto wind on silver harp strings playing. "Ask then but be quick. If you wished for an oracle you should have come with offerings."
What offerings... No, now is not the time to be distracted from your purpose. Instead you ask how long it had been since the invaders committed their crime.
"They stole the skulls two hours past noon," comes the quick reply. Quick but odd just the same. It had been more than two days since Ohun had asked you to scout the stones for some disturbance, so the this could not be the cause. The dead tree must have been there for longer as well, even if magic made the rot swifter you do not think it would turn hours into weeks.
"What do they seek to do with the remains?" you press.
"The dance of souls and the song of death is not something which can in a moment be revealed, even if I was of a mind to do so." The spirit turns one too-bright eye on Inge and says. "They seek to use death magic by relic and ritual cast, is the prospect frightful enough for you to move the Man of Iron to the task?"
"Ilfa never taught me that sort of magic," the girl admits hesitantly, speaking French you assume so as not to reveal her words to the guardian. "But I do know there are precious few good uses for it. It's like tools. If you make a jug from clay, what it is most suited for is carrying water. You could roll it to mash grain to feed the hungry, but it would not be fit for the task."
"And death magic..." you trail off, not wishing to give voice to dark suspicions.
"Will make things like you saw on the island, dead that wander in the land of the living," the girl replies grimly.
Hearing this you turn to the sweat-voiced spirit and ask bluntly. "You said there were three yet living of the foe you wish us to strike down, but how many were there before and are there any who are dead yet can still move and fight?"
At this the guardian tosses his head and laughs, the sound so entrancing, so infections, that it makes Nico laugh only for the boy to snap his mouth closed with a look of horror on his face as he looks to his fallen comrade. Not that the spirit pays him any mind, when his laughter abates he simply says. "A cleverer question than I thought you might ask mortal. No, there are none untimely summoned from Beyond the Pale of the world with them and the trespassers once counted their numbers at five. Have I answered all that you wished to know?"
It is clear which answer he wished to hear, but perhaps you have amused him enough to give the other.
What do you reply?
[] Yes
-[] And you shall make the vow
-[] But you are not minded to make pledges to one who would set a dagger to your throat (Write in plan of attack)
[] No, you have more questions
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: I have to say this flowed really well, hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.