Arc 5 Post 8: Shadow Flight
Shadow Flight
21st of Rova 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)
"There's no worse fool than one convinced he has things figured out, unless it is one whose willing to fight you over it. No sense giving these ones a chance to grow into the latter," you call to the others in duergar, getting an amused hiss from Gorok and a worried look from Mina. "I am well," you assure her, and maybe yourself a bit in the bargain. "I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be," she says simply, setting a comforting hand on your shoulder as the four of you quickly move down the 'Silver Street'. A clever thing, the little plates one can read at a glance to know where you are, though they'd be even more useful in the tangled alleys of Copperdown.
The buildings too are grander here, with two stories being the norm and three not uncommon. Oddly enough, the second story always seems to overhang from the first, braced against the stone of colorful facades with sturdy timbers. The yards before them are spacious and verdant, full of unfamiliar shrubs and vines, grown high to provide shade against the glare of the sun.
"Mommy, Mommy, why's that big lizard walking like a man?" A little girl that looks like she might blow away in a strong wind from all the fluttering lace she'd been wrapped in points urgently at Gorok from one of the benches set by the carved wooden doors, only to be admonished by the woman beside her as she sets down her book to look. Odd that she would be bring something so precious out in public.
As you turn away and out of sight of the pair a great structure unfolds ahead of you, four white stone towers pinning the corners of a rectangular building with a roof of clear colorless glass. All its doors thrown open to reveal what looks like a whole festival bubbling inside, from colorful dancers moving to haunting song pipes to the familiar sound of mildly intoxicated laughter.
You look to Mina for an explanation, but she offers a helpless shrug.
"That is or was Andoren's Feasthall," Sirim explains, obviously projecting his voice to all three of you. "It was recently acquired from his Church by a halfling called... Chestnut, I think."
"The dead god?" you ask startled. "He's still worshiped?"
"In theory," comes the reply, tinged with dark amusement. "In practice Church assets do not vanish just because their patron died, and in Andoran, unlike many places across the Inner Sea, local authorities did not confiscate their properties. Spared the worst of the convulsions of the Chelish Civil War this land probably has some of the most Arodenites outside Absalom. A fitting patron, really, for what passed for the nation's nobility, godless priests to minister to powerless nobles. "
Sirim's account of the People's Revolt, far less stirring and grand than that which you heard aboard the White Eagle, concerned instead with the interest of lumber barons and merchant 'princes', takes up most of the walk. It takes you among the tall and colorful houses of the well-to-do then among the grander, sterner abodes carved in what your serpentine guide calls 'Old Chelish White' from the days when this had been the major port of first the Taldan and then the Chelish Navy. The timbers of Arthfell Forest sent down the river that shares its name had built not one but two empires across the surface of the world and now they are in the hands of a third young realm, hungry for expansion in the name of its own peculiar ideals.
"Not that the Andorans want to build an empire of course, perish the thought. It would be a Federation of the Free, a People's Redoubt, a state of Equality and Brotherhood... in which they of course are the elder brothers."
Mina seems a a touch crestfallen to hear the shadow mage's account, so you point out that even with all that had been said that this realm was still far above the devils' realm from which they had revolted.
The Pathfinder Lodge is not at first sight anything extraordinary among the stately swan-houses, it did not remark itself among the flock by height or width, by the grace of its colonnades or the height of its flanking trees. Yet to eyes that could see the unseen another world was revealed. Colors spieled into the air, shimmering blues and reds that promised warning to those within for any trespass and, you would judge, swift punishment to trespassers.
Without needing to be asked you take out the medallion as Sirim rises from Gorok's shadow where he had been hiding. The sound of a hand knocking on the heavy doors of the lodge rings out, though no such hand is raised. It does not take more than the span of six quick breaths for a dark haired boy in mismatched leathers to answer... and almost jump back in shock at the sight of the smoky serpent coiling in the air.
"Initiate, bid thy mistress that Sirim of the Pale Sun has come with news fit only for the ears of a Venture Captain and above."
For all it had been the subject of so much talk the boy does not even look at the medallion. "Of course, of course, right this way honored guests," he squeaks.
Sirim Diplomacy (DC 15*): 1d20+11 = 27 (Success)
*-10 DC for the presence of the medallion
"My thanks," you say politely in the hopes of setting him a bit more at ease as the four of you slip inside what looks to be a room specifically built for waiting, to judge from the three low couches set against the walls and tables set with hardcakes and unfamiliar fruit. You are starting to wonder if there is such a thing as having too much space.
"So I guess we can hear the secret that is only for the ears of Venture Captains?" Mina says after an uneasy silence.
"Knowledge of my pursuers could hardly make you less safe, given the assumptions my foes have already made, and it might make you more safe, or more guarded at least," Sirim offers as he takes the medallion. "I, you see, am something that common knowledge holds does not exist, a traitor to the Umbral Court of Nidal. Well..." he pauses in thought, an edge of razor sharp humor entering his mind-voice. "I suppose one should say, common knowledge holds that such do not exist outside the lightless torture chambers of the Cathedral of Exquisite Agony in Pangolais."
Mina Knowledge (Religion) (DC 20): 1d20+11 = 22 (Success)
Mina's illusory face turns pale as death, but before she can speak Sirim continues. "The reasons for my defection were not purely material, but as one can imagine my compensation was considerable just the same."
"That is why that devil was hunting you, wasn't it? The Umbral Court called upon its allies in Cheliax to make sure you could not escape?" Mina asks.
"While no doubt the one who signed the papers was a member of the Court, it is the Midnight Inquisition which hunts me," pride radiates from the words like heatless witchfire that does not burn but freezes. "I know much that the eldest and greatest in Nidal would wish forgotten, and that which they would rather never see the light of day." It is not easy to follow eyes of smoke and shadow, even when Sirim makes himself known, but this time it is clear he is looking at the silver band you wear. "I seek secrets that only the halls of Azlant might yet keep." He pauses a moment, drifting upwards on a gentle draft. "Come now, I see that you have questions and it would be faster for you to ask than for me to lecture. I tend to wander rather far afield when I do so. I cannot grantee that I will answer every question, but I will speak no untruths."
Do you have any questions for Sirim?
[] No, let Mina and Gorok ask the questions
[] Yes, you are as curious about him as he seems to be about you
-[] What is Nidal like? All places in the Burnlands are strange to you.
-[] Where did Sirim meet others of the People?
-[] Is he trully a diabolist to have known so much about how Click's powers came to be?
-[] What does he know about the times before the People descended into Nar Voth? Where did he learn it
-[] Write in
OOC: I've been looking forward to this update a lot. Hope you guys enjoy.
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