The Center of Time

"None of us," Echo replies. She taps it. "It was resting on the table surface. We were all staring at it, because the Father here had just finished telling the story of how he got it and so on. It could have reacted to the attention we were giving it. We were all, I imagine, curious about the map after hearing that story."

"Well, on our trip through the sheer, we'll want to keep checking it to make sure we catch anything else showing up." Antor turns to Father Serren. "Here, you can have my wine. I've always wanted to see Wislayn. My father went there when he was about my age and he said it's a very interesting place."

Isida Kep'Tukari said:

Wisco, you do notice the apprentices occasionally whisper to each other, with glances at you and sometimes at the path that Duncan and Antor had taken, their faces taut and sometimes pale.

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Wisco walks over to the apprentices. "Anything I can help with?" he asks. "I'm Wisco by the way. Do you know the new guards?"

Seregal gratefully accepts the wine cup from Antor and takes a long sip. "Well, this is going to be a very interesting trip. Everyone, let's all meet at the market tomorrow, at the appointed time. This may be our last chance to gather supplies or information. Try to get an early night, too. Could be our last comfortable bed for a while." Seregal rubs at the small of his back, anticipating the next few weeks of sleeping rough.

He lowers his voice. "Also, be careful; we can't let any other hunters catch a whiff of what we're up to. Any other last things we need to discuss?"

"I'll be around. I want to speak to someone first, but I think I'll hang around tonight if you two are going to continue looking at that map," he nods to Father and Echo. "I sleep little, and that map looks valuable. I've got a room here, if any of you wish to pitch in to it, or we can switch to one of the larger units. My experience with relic hunters is they attract unwanted attention from competitors. Before that, though, Sevarr mentioned a place in the Sheer where it is summer-warm. The ones I was drinking with had been there, and lost many men in their camp to the local beasts who also wished to escape the cold. Anyone wish to join me? Maybe ask questions only an Aeon Priest or scholar would think of?"

He takes a minute to look around the tavern. If he spots the travellers he was drinking with earlier, he'll head to them and point them out to the others in his party.

However, before he goes to their table, he goes to the door of the tavern and looks for the beggar who was blinded by her mutation. He'd seen her earlier in passing, and had made a note that he wished to help her. It was a hard enough world for him, a giant who could slay almost anyone he fought. It touched his heart that a frail old woman would be blinded by the world and left alone to fend for herself.

Stepping outside the doorway, if he sees her, Duncan takes a Shin from the chord around his neck where he keeps it, and a packet of rations from his pack. He kneels down before her, hoping his size will block others from seeing what he's handing to her, and presses the gift package into her hand.

"Here. I know how badly the cold bites, and worse when you're hungry. Hide it, and may you find warm shelter for the night."

After giving the package to the beggar woman, Duncan plans to head back inside and join his companions at the table he was at previously. If the other travellers are still there, he is going to ask more about their tale of woe, where the warm spot was, and so forth.

Duncan, you pause by the blind beggar and press the rations and shin into her hands. The tentacles reach down and feel them, then reach up to feel your face. "Thank you," she whispers. "For your kindness, thank you." She inscribes a faint sigil on your face, a sort of flower, maybe, or the sun, though when you touch it no color comes off on your fingers.

Once back inside the warmth of the Scavenger's Art, the others are all there, warming up after their venture outside. Most of them, at any rate. Duncan, you do spy the wounded woman who spoke to you earlier, and for some wine and food she's willing to talk to you about the peculiarities of the Sheer.

"Like I was saying to the big man, there's a zone in the Sheer, straight from one wall to the other far as we could tell, warm as summer. No snow, plants growing all over the place. Big plants too, with big leaves. And we're talking miles and miles across. You maybe could get across it in less than a day, but the plants are starting to grow up in the roadway, and it's making it harder to travel. It's pretty to look at but... Once darkness falls, we had broken hounds attacking our camps in packs, and abhumans sniping from the fringes. We had to get into a defensive square just to keep the wagons and aneens from getting dragged off, and they didn't break off until we'd taken down nearly a dozen hounds." She shudders and takes a deep drink. "They wouldn't stop howling either. I couldn't sleep for days."

Shadowsmith said:

Wisco walks over to the apprentices. "Anything I can help with?" he asks. "I'm Wisco by the way. Do you know the new guards?"

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"No, no. It's just... the last trip was pretty bad, and Sevarr isn't going with any of the other merchants this time, so... We're sort of small." The scarred woman shakes her head. "Nerves, really. You have to learn to deal with that if you're going to trade through the Sheer, right?"

Seregal looks over at Antor and Echo. "Any last minute preparations that we may need to consider?" He hands his empty wine cup back to Antor.

"From what I understand, we should get some rest and set out first thing tomorrow with this merchant Duncan met," Echo opines. She folds the map up and tucks it away in a pouch. "Further examinations of the map will have to wait until I can move around with it anyway, so I'm ready as soon as they are."