Meet them with Talk Part 3 - An Interview with a Slann
CuttleFish2.0
Friendly neighborhood cuttlefish
- Location
- Seattle, Washington.
[X] Within a temple pavilion. In the heart of the city.
[X] [GOAL] Ascertain Cicedhya's goals in the Southlands.
[X] [GOAL] Establish a line of dialogue through Cicedhya to…
-[X] [GOAL] the Everqueen
[X] [GOAL] Question Cicedhya on the fate of the various students of Wik'keer'mal more thoroughly.
[X] [MIND] Yes.
[X] [GOAL] Ascertain Cicedhya's goals in the Southlands.
[X] [GOAL] Establish a line of dialogue through Cicedhya to…
-[X] [GOAL] the Everqueen
[X] [GOAL] Question Cicedhya on the fate of the various students of Wik'keer'mal more thoroughly.
[X] [MIND] Yes.
From atop his palanquin Wik'keer'mal gazed out at the temple-city as the first rays of the new day's sun crested over the tops of the walls. In but a few hours time he would once again be conversing with one of the itza'xa'khanx, for the first time in millenia, it was at once a thrilling and worrying notion to be contemplating.
This was the purpose which had originally been set to him by the Old Ones, the guiding of the younger species. He could not help but feel the excitement of those more innocent days swimming back up into the present through his memories. And yet at the same time this was a situation wholly outside of all the bounds originally set by his masters in that time, that gave pause as Wik'keer'mal considered the manifold disasters that might trace their origins to this moment. Too many opaque even to the prodigious mental and prophetic capability of a Slann of the Third Spawning.
If only he could reach across the expanse of the sea in that moment and speak with his elders in Lustria. But such a thing was impossible. And wishing for it beneath his dignity.
The Old Ones had not birthed them into this world to shirk responsibility.
Nothing could unset these decisions before him. He must match them. Then he must surpass them, the fate of the world might very well hang in the balance. So roused to action Wik'keer'mal girded himself and resolved to wring drop of essential knowledge from the opportunity.
*
*
Cicedhya stared up at the towering edifice of the stepped-pyramid. Barely five minutes walk from the pavilion her party had been led to the night before after several hours of frankly bizarre feasting, whatever these creatures were they did not engage in revelry as her people did. Except for the conversations of her own people, and a few tortured interactions with the mage Gifagawb or whatever its name was, it had been a mostly silent affair.
And the food. Rations aboard the Seeker and her sisters had been an adjustment but this was something else; charred meat and tubers, all but caked in strange spices, barely cooking at all in her opinion. It had taken every ounce of self-control she'd honed over her centuries of life just to swallow down her portion.
Some of her soldiers hadn't even been able to manage that. But if these savage scaled creatures took any insults, or even notice, they showed no signs of it all throughout the night.
It might have all been worth it had their chieftain, or whatever petty title he held in their tongue, had bothered to show himself during the feast but if he had Cicedhya had noted no sign of his presence. And when asked Gifagawb had only said that she would meet him on the morrow. She'd felt the sting of the insult in that to be sure though she had managed to master her fury over it, they were not to know who precisely she served and what sort of terrors could be visited on them if she were roused to anger.
Of course, Cicedhya knew she could not take the city alone or even with all the forces at her disposal on her trio of sleek little ships. Barely eight hundred crew. Perhaps half of those well trained with spear or bow and only herself, Sirora Dawnmaul, and Gilol with any measure of power amongst the lot.
That was, if they could even be counted on to fight. Owing to need of haste she'd been forced to hire extra crew without proper assurances of loyalty, she could perhaps count on two hundred of the ships' companies to fight as they ought for her. All those that she had brought with her, Cicedhya was sure of. Not enough to conquer a city with so many.
Even if their weapons were crude, those great beasts of theirs would wreak a ruinous red path through even the best of her troops and Gifagawb was not the only mage amongst their people, she was sure. The whole city was thick with magic, despite the clear signs of disrepair they'd tried to hide from her.
No. If it was needful to conquer this place she must first return to gather a suitable host from Tor Anroc.
And she was growing more and more certain that it would be necessary. For since the mage had appeared on the shore and forced her ships back into the bay with magic, Cicedhya had grown more and more convinced that the artifact her mistress sought was in the possession of these creatures. It was doubtful they would part with it easily.
Besides, even the thought of paying these things for something they could hardly understand the proper use of galled her.
It would be better to come back at the head of an army. Right.
But for the time she would have to humble herself and pretend at some manner of negotiation. Steeling herself against that certainty, Cicedhya took the last few steps up the wide central staircase and came to a stop.
Gifagawb, who had somehow outpaced her despite being nearly half her height, stood beside a stone portal leading into a shadowed room empty of any figure. It gestured forward.
"Enter, Lady Cicedhya, the Lord will attend you shortly," the lizard whined.
Cicedhya gave a short nod and walked forward; Cathach followed only half a step behind her, though her bodyguard had only his shortsword available to him, and Sirora just a few paces after him. Three reed mats, arranged in a neat little triangle, were laid out.
Taking a few more steps she stood by the foremost one though not on it and her companions followed suit. Gifagawb crossed the room and took up a waiting position by a door on the opposite side, head bowed and staff clutched tightly in both hands.
It was a wait of only a few moments before there was motion in the shadows of the doorway, then a hulking brute similar to those that had accompanied the mage all throughout their journey to the city emerged. Though this one was bedecked in even more jewelry, even the tips of the horns on the bleached skull they wore was capped in finely worked gold, and the crude halberd they hefted sang with power.
Utterly ignoring Gifagawb, its eyes swept the room in a single instant before fixing on Cicedhya with a cold-eye stare. She shuddered. There was a creature born to kill. Every bit of her wanted to be out of its presence but she mastered that instinctive urge and kept herself still as a statue, staring right back.
After a moment it moved on, briefly eyeing up her servants before stepping fully out of the doorway and allowing its master through at last. The thing that emerged was at once hideous and beautiful; a corpulent thing of flabby flesh and slick amphibian skin that sat on a floating stone platform and stared down at her through lidded eyes. One arm lay atop an arrangement of boxes that dominated the entire right, left she supposed form its perspective, side.
It hardly seemed to see her for a moment, but then its eyes twitched and instantly met her own — light shone forth from their depths — and then something like a smile stretched its too wide mouth. She saw no teeth, no tongue, nothing save a dim fleshy cavern which could have swallowed her whole.
And yet all that was as nothing to the way that the very Winds themselves twisted around the thing; cladding it in invisible mail of pure Chamon, boltsering it's limbs with the fiery speed of Aqshy, sustaining its bulk at the sup of a font of Ghyran, speeding its thoughts along arcing Azyre lightening, Shyish dripped from its mouth, out of the shadows cast by its limbs Ulgu crawled in a spinning web, Ghur coursed through its muscles, and the light of Hysh poured from its eyes into a halo that burned about its head. Behind it all, like the outline of a great ship glimpsed through fog, she saw the twisting mystical architecture of High Magic — strange alien geometries burning in the aethyr and their elongated shadows forming glyphs that towered like the highest peaks of the Annullii — binding all the disparate Winds into singular purpose.
Her heart raced and her palms went clammy. A terror, deeper than instinct, seized her suddenly.
This was not a creature to trifle with. No petty tyrant or king of savage creatures did she treat with now, this was a master of the world more ancient than any save her mistress or the archmages of Saphery.
But as suddenly as the vision had come, it faded away, the aethyr occluded itself again and it became only a creature of unpleasant flesh and bone sitting indolently as if it had no care at all in the world. Only its eyes still belied that image. And through them she could dismiss her thoughts as sudden fanciful dreamings or illusion.
Something flitted near her face and Cicedhya flinched away. Just an insect buzzing curious at her.
"Come hear," not a voice so much as a thought that appeared unbidden in her own mind.
And not aimed at her. The roaming insect obeyed and flitted back towards the swollen creature. Only then did she notice that the box it had laid one of its arms on was swarming with the insects, bees, that filled the air with the faint hum of their activity.
"Fascinating creatures," this time the creature's mouth opened, she half expected it to croak like a frog, and spoke in a deep sonorous voice. "Welcome, Cicedhya of Ulthuan to Zlatlan. I am Wik'keer'mal, let us speak."
*
*
He actually quite enjoyed the company of the young itza'xa'khanx, once she'd gotten over her initial shock. Wik'keer'mal had to to admit it was not entirely a kindly method to employ, but necessary as he had learned over the centuries — itza'xa'khanx had an unfortunate habit of assuming themselves superior over others, a useful defensive mechanism against the more subtle methods of corruption employed by the enemy, but also sometimes an impediment. A good jolt to the system was often called for.
Now though that it had been done and Cicedhya had adjusted, he found her an intelligent conversational partner, full of the exact sort of drive and ambition that would have made her a superb student. Lacking only in the raw talent of those he usually took under tutelage.
They had begun their conversation with a brief digression into the history of the Phoenix King. Both its first claimant and the current one, each of which were unfamiliar to him and the method seemed to him overly beholden to petty politics and subject to some quite predictable ill ends if careful moderating influences were not enacted.
Warmbloods being prone to over reactions to injured pride or perceived threats to status and standing.
Ah well, there was room for mistakes and this was not the venue to resolve the matter.
"... ruled ably enough. Though in Nagarythe many await the day that Prince Malekith ascends the throne of his father."
"A heavy burden to put on one so young," he hummed. "But, ah, we have talked much of the Phoenix King. What of the Everqueen?"
He had little hope that Mehane still lived to bear the title, she would have been old even by the time of the Great Catastrophe. But some memory of him should have lived on in the line of her descendents. It had been fascinating to teach her grandmother and great-grandmother and then see how the essence of their spirits lived on in her, a compound soul that stretched back into the very infancy of her race.
Each a unique individual but still able to draw on the accumulated weight of their line.
"Yvraine is Everqueen, and I understand Bel Shanaar still keeps her in his councils though their year of marriage is long over. For love of her mother, I would think."
"The Everqueen rules in… Avelorne?"
She nodded.
"Have you visited?"
Cicedhya shook her head, "No my travels have not taken me to the Kingdom."
"Ah," he sighed in mock disappointment. "But others you have visited? Perhaps you might tell me of them and of the sons and daughters of those places which are most famed amongst your people."
She laughed, "Do you know? I begin to believe you did know my people of old, to keep inviting me to speak of ancient glories and famed heroes. Well, then… "
First she bade him forgive her for she had not visited all the Kingdoms, which he already knew, and then Cicedhya began a long recounting.
Starting with Cothique, she spoke of Daethylis who had fought at Aenerion's side; of how he had sent countless daemon crews to the watery deeps from aboard his ship the Wavefoam Dancer, the rumors which said he could command Dabbarloc itself to rise from the depths and pull enemies into the churning waters. There was also Semlis, a famed archer who led a company of rangers throughout the lower reaches of Cothique's stretch of the Annullii, culling the monsters which wandered down. Her arrows were said to fall with the force of a star and never miss. Aislinn was an accomplished mist mage who could shroud an entire fleet and keep it whole even in the face of the greatest storms.
None were names Wik'keer'mal knew.
Tiranoc was next, a land of rolling plains and wide beaches famed for its shipwrights and charioteers. Here the current Phoenix King Bel Shanaar ruled, though often Cicedhya said he held court in Tor Anroc, and from the harbors of the land sends forth explorers to take measure of the world.
She had little more to say and quickly moved to speak of mighty Caledor from which dragon riders and the enchanted arms and armor from Vaul's Anvil both soared to all corners of Ulthuan. Of course its greatest son was Caledor himself, the dragon tamer, first to bind dragons into service and the very mage who had enacted the Great Ritual which had created the Vortex and saved all the world. And who even now was trapped within his own working.
Here Cicedhya had to leave off, for she had found the princes and peoples of the land too haughty and self-possessed to stand for long and so did not know more of their heroes or legends. From the swirl of Aqshy gathering around her Wik'keer'mal knew the truth of her feelings.
Still, it was enough.
It seemed indeed that Gif'a-Gahb had been correct in surmising that Caledor the place had some relation to Caledor the individual who Wik'keer'mal had once long ago taught. Alas he lamented the fact that his student should be trapped within a piece of a magic of his own devising. Still to know that one of his students had accomplished so much was heartening.
Perhaps when Zlatlan was better situated he could visit the place of the Vortex and see a glimpse of his student and perhaps even have a hand in freeing him. Unlikely. Things were too precarious and there was too much for him to do.
He said nothing of his thoughts to Cicedhya.
Next she turned to Eataine and spoke long of Lothern and its straits which guarded the inner sea of Ulthuan from invasion. Apparently its prince, one Fenuval, had begun a series of expansions of the various forts which sat astride either side of the strait into much greater fastness which would enable unified control of the passage. Not he but his father, Torianor, had gone to war beside Aenarion and won great acclaim, dying in the Battle of the Isle of the Dead.
Fenuval, young and untested, had need to prove his own worth in the eyes of his subjects and had chosen his great project and meanwhile form Lothern sailed all manner of ships bound to all corners of Ulthuan. Traces of Chamon gathered at the edges of her mouth, trailing upwards towards the crown of her head, indicating her more worldly interest in the place.
And so came the last of the Kingdoms which Cicedhya had visited herself, Saphery. Ruled by Thyriol from the flying city of Saphethion.Though she had seen the place from afar and touched the shores of the Kingdom she knew precious little of its people or their heroes save that Thyriol was said to gather the most skilled and learned of the elves, what the itza'xa'khanx called themselves, to his side to train and collaborate on greater works. Despite the paucity of knowledge she gave Wik'keer'mal was gladdened, for this was another name to account for.
Thyriol.
Ambitious, temperamental, and often rushing ahead of good sense. Talented and skilled. It was good he had survived.
"Thank you for what news you have been able to deliver."
"It was a gift of its own, to be able to speak of home after so long away. Almost I had forgotten its sights."
He smiled, good, interviews went much more smoothly when the subject enjoyed the experience.
"You say your king, this Bel Shanaar, has sent forth many explorers to all corners of the world. But yet you have said you have no master, what then do you seek on your voyages?"
She tensed, very subtly, but even the slightest motions did not escape the eyes of Slann, before forcibly relaxing.
"I seek…"
Cicedhya hesitated and about her the natural eddies in the Winds stilled and subsided.
"Adventure and the thrill of new discoveries and… " she grinned. "Riches, of course."
It was a clever trick, suppressing the flows of magic around herself — requiring supernal skill and discipline to accomplish — which even to the innate magical senses of the itza'xa'khanx would be almost unnoticeable.
For a Slann, especially one who had spent long ages teaching the brightest of that people, it was obvious.
She likely sought all of those things; but they were not what had drawn her here, what had driven her to commission and crew three ships. Would she admit it? Wik'keer'mal doubted it, but it had not yet come time to force answers from her.
"Oho! And what manner of riches did you seek to find here?"
"Pelts, ivory, plants infused with the power of the Aethyr, gems, perhaps a site of power. The world is full of value, if only one has the courage to take it."
He considered her. Still the Winds were becalmed around her.
"Creatures aplenty there are in this land. To the south there is a bird with fine plumes. Plants to, and certainly the mountains hold jewels, gold, and silver aplenty. Any sites of power I could not allow you to claim though, but... hmm, to come so far for uncertain rewards?"
Scowling, she looked away a moment before glancing back, "Some Prince or Lord already claims every patch of land upon Ulthuan, and the lands closer to the isle grow crowded with squatters and tenants. Those of us without proud lineages must seek our fortunes wherever we may."
Her control frayed a bit and again Wik'keer'mal saw the thin wisps of Aqshy spilling from her lips. There was truth to the bitterness she put into her words, even if it did not form the purpose of her journey it played some part in its foundation.
And yet, surely constructing and crewing three ships could not have been a cheap affair. Cicedhya must then have some avenue of material wealth to call upon, whether her own or a patron's and yet she still clung to the lie of having no master.
"We claim Stewardship over all these lands. I believe it is the manner of your people, when one desires something another claims, to organize a compensatory trade?
She blinked, but then a moment later parsed his meaning,"Yes," she said and nodded. "But what could you desire in trade from us? Food you have in abundance, so I have seen, gold too, and fine weapons."
Cicedhya made a show of thinking.
"Ships perhaps? But I could hardly spare one and pack all its crew and supplies onto the other two."
"Hmm, yes a conundrum."
It was curious to see the twisted path of conversation an itza'xa'khanx could go down when trying to reach a conclusion. Back in the days of his tutelage he'd been often surprised by the strange turns and metaphors they would reach for to understand principles, and in fact understanding why they did so had been the single greatest advantage Wik'keer'mal held over the other Slann involved. Emotion colored every aspect of their thoughts.
Which made them great natural conduits for such energies as needed to cast the more complex spells. They grasped intuitively what Slann knew through the sheer expansiveness of their intellect and even reached for methods which were not already apparent.
Often such methods were flawed or inefficient. Yet still novel.
Now to see that creativity and natural desire for narrative and metaphoric weight applied to other ends was… well it was thrilling, even if Cicedhya was trying to manipulate him. Such ambition and courage was to be applauded. Once it was properly redirected along other avenues of course.
"My request, then. And in part a gift too. Return to Ulthuan and go to the Kingdom of Avelorn where you say the Everqueen rules; tell her of what you have seen here and petition her to send an envoy, that we might begin a dialogue between our two peoples."
"I-" she hesitated, looked up at him. "You do not know what you ask. That would be a journey of many years, with little to show for it if I am not admitted. Petitioners come from every Kingdom imaginable to seek an audience."
"You will be given leave to hunt the creatures of the land, taking such trophies as you think valuable from their flesh, save a few which will be marked out for you."
The itza'xa'khanx highly prized the material goods of the world he remembered and were often moved by gifts of such things to be more amenable to difficult requests. Moreover, if Cicedhya returned with goods thought valuable she would more likely gain an audience.
He added, almost as an afterthought, "I will of course give you a token of our esteem. Something to declare to all who look on that we have bid you do this thing."
"It might work… only, as I have said the Everqueen is well loved and her time is constantly sought after. Even if I am granted an audience and my tale is believed, without some proof of your power… "
"You fear no envoy would come."
"Or come only centuries later," she nodded. "Yes."
"Gif'a-Gahb," he commanded. The Skink priest immediately came to his side, and peered up at him. "Go with the Lady Cicedhya to see the Everqueen. Treat with her in my name and ensure our request is given all due haste."
"Lord Wik'keer'mal!" interjected the itza'xa'khanx in question. "Sending your servant is out of the- no non-elf has ever set foot upon Ulthuan's shores."
Not true. Several of the Fifth Spawning had been there when the isle had been raised from the sea. That was not something she was to know.
Heedless of his thoughts, Cicedhya continued, "I do not know that it would be allowed. And the Everqueens Handmaidens can be… zealous in guarding her, your servant might be struck down and I with him."
"Ah. Have I then set you an impossible task?"
"No, no certainly not. It only requires some careful consideration, permit me a few moments to confer with my companions?"
He inclined his head and then all three itza'xa'khanx clustered tightly together and began hurriedly whispering. They spoke low and quickly; still in the same language he had been conversing with her in the entire time, but their speech took on a more controlled and precise character.
Some manner of code then.
Too opaque to him to easily decode in the moment, for that he would need to know some particular element of its' contents, but even without doing so he could discern certain things of relevance. From the swirling currents of the Winds, neither of Cicedhya's companions were nearly so skilled at becalming them as her, he knew their aim was deceit. A streak of power passion also wove its way in, perhaps joy or pride.
After several minutes the conversation came to a head and Cicedhya turned back to him.
"Some artifact of power. Large physically and wrought with great skill, ideally with a measure of mystical weight; anything to fit those descriptions should garner interest and induce haste."
Now this was a promising avenue.
"We have many such devices. All for differing purposes, what sort would be best received?"
"Nothing to impinge upon the domains of life and growth, it might be taken as a challenge or insult. Such are the purview of Isha and through her the Everqueen. Any implement of death, or strongly associated with death too should be avoided."
Curious.
"Hmm, does the Everqueen have any other pursuit, outside of her duties?"
"If she does I have never heard it said. Though I have heard she once wished to study in Saphery, perhaps something with an affinity for such ends?"
Well, now Wik'keer'mal was certain. It was not the Everqueen's desires which Cicedhya was pondering, but her own masters. Having apparently judged it possible whatever artifact she sought lay in Zlatlan she had decided to try and see if it might be got.
Of course he did not know for certain what she looked for was within his power to give, nor for what ends her own master wanted it. If she even knew such herself. Certainly there seemed a way to use her desire for his own ends, and with the proper precautions the risk could be planned against but the danger of loss would remain.
It only remained to decide what he would do.
[] Refuse Outright. Cicedhya and her entire expedition will leave quickly.
[] Give her what she wants. Hand over an artifact in your possession.
-[] Fivefold Hive of Jade
-[] Disc of Yuxa
-[] Revification Crystal
-[] Write-in. Subject to Approval.
Note: only possible because you will insist on an escort of a priest and a small band of warriors. She might refuse.
[] Plumb her mind. The time for subtly has ended, pry her secrets out.
-[] Then release her. And her people.
-[] Then kill her. And her people.
-[] Then imprison her. And her people.
Note: Boy, it was a close thing there but you guys actually managed to get the information you wanted without needing to resort to forcing it out of her... to an extent. That means one final vote on how you want to proceed. Ask questions, give feedback.
4 Hour Moratorium
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