Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
Wow, awesome closer there! You have a knack for finishing each segment at an appropriate moment.
So is this the adventure found on the Exalted website? I remember Barrow Black, but the rest of the story isn't ringing any bells.
Exalted tends to lend itself to moments of dramatic tension.
I didn't follow the exact plot of the 'Tomb of Five Corners' adventure module when I wrote my story. I only used elements from that adventure for the setting, just to give myself a location and a name for the bad guy. The rest was just a convenient excuse to get everyone in the same place.
The four Chosen stood outside the gated wall surrounding Tunato’s estate. The manor sat upon a small rise, and was dimly lit from within. They surveyed the house, mentally matching details to the sketches of the interior that Ghost had obtained.
“Besides the main doors,” he said, “there are doors on either side leading to the verandas, a second floor balcony there, and a door on the fourth floor roof to access the cisterns. All are likely to be guarded, though I would guess the roof would be the best choice – I expect the bulk of the guards are on the main floor, and of course there are no windows on the roof from which our activity can be observed.”
“Kaliel and I could provide a distraction and draw their attention,” Zanka suggested.
“Tunato’s guards are likely to be more seasoned than that,” Ghost said.
“And a distraction might draw the wrong sort of attention,” Kaliel added.
“I suggest you two remain outside the grounds, and watch for people coming and going. Tunato may be sending messengers to check on the status of his home, especially with the Gentle Art of Persuasion in his possession. And if something goes wrong, a runner may well be sent to alert the city guards, or Tunato. That runner will need to be intercepted. And should things truly go wrong, then you can cover our escape.”
“We can also enter the home if you call for help,” Kaliel said. “I believe the design of the courtyard will amplify any noise coming from the manor.”
Zanka looked through the gate, frowning. “This appears to be an Earth-aspected manse. Would not such energies serve to deaden any sound?”
“No, I am certain of this,” Kaliel insisted.*
“It seems we disagree,” Ghost said. “Rather than argue the point, let us assume that the most disadvantageous option is the truth; thus, Zanka is correct, and sound will not travel. Our cries for help will not be heard.”
“I note that you continue to say ‘our’,” Ayama noted. “Do you intend for me to accompany you? I should point out that I have no great skill in these matters.”
“Yet you are most capable of the three,” Ghost countered. “Kaliel’s armor precludes all efforts at stealth, and you are more physically capable than Zanka. And you are capable in a fight, should we need to escape. I have more than enough skill in such matters to compensate for your lack of experience.” He smiled wickedly at her. “So, shall we go and clean Tunato’s home?”
“One moment,” Kaliel said. He stepped closer to the gate and surveyed the grounds. “Do you not see it?”
“See what?” Ayama asked.
“There are no animals on the grounds.”
“So Tunato doesn’t use guard dogs,” Ghost said. “That will make this easier.”
“No, not just dogs. There are no birds, no rats, no insects.”
Ghost peered at the grounds. “Interesting. Wait here a moment.” The Night Caste Solar moved away from the house, heading down a nearby alley. He returned a few moments later holding a struggling alley cat. Ghost unceremoniously tossed the cat over the wall into Tunato’s property. The instant it landed, the cat yowled in terror, and ran as fast as it could to a tree near the wall, running across a branch and leaping over the wall. It continued running even as it landed in the street, disappearing into the night.
“So something is terrifying the animals,” Ghost said. “Perhaps a function of the manse’s power. We shall have to see if we feel that same fear.” He wore a smile of satisfaction.
“And you had to torment a cat for that?” Ayama said accusingly.
“The animal was fortunate. I was afraid that it might die horribly on Tunato’s estate, which would have made our approach more troublesome. ”
Without another word, Ghost and Ayama slipped through the gates and onto the grounds. Most of the land surrounding the house was dotted with manicured topiary and decorative trees, save for a clear area about ten feet from the manor itself. The two Solars moved swiftly toward the back of the house, as there were no windows on the main floor there. Ayama marveled at how Ghost seemed to live up to his name, flitting silently from tree to tree. He paused now and then to guide Ayama, showing her the best path to take or pointing out obstructions that might make noise.
Within a few minutes, they stood at the back of the house, looking up toward the roof four floors above.
“I have brought a rope,” Ayama said. “You can lower it when you reach the top.”
“Unnecessary,” Ghost replied. “Climb upon my back.” When she did so, Ghost took the rope and quickly fashioned a harness binding the two of them together. “Now, please control your urges and keep your hands from wandering. I must concentrate.”
Ayama smiled despite herself, for she knew Ghost’s comment was made in pure jest. Though she knew her companion certainly had an appetite for carnal pleasures, that issue had been resolved between them months ago, before they had met Kaliel and Zanka. It had been remarkably simple, she recalled; one night he had suggested they lie together, and she had politely declined, feeling as though he were simply humoring a woman who was old enough to be his mother. He had never brought the subject up with her again.
She was broken out of her reminiscence by the realization that they had just arrived at the roof. Ghost had managed to scale the outer wall free-handed, while carrying her on his back. Though he did not have Kaliel’s massive frame, Ghost was still remarkably athletic. He quickly untied the harness and coiled the rope while looking around. He inspected the cisterns atop the roof, noting that the supply pipes were too small to use for access. He then moved to the door on the roof, and after listening briefly, opened it.
The fourth floor was mostly used for storage, holding those household items required when the factor was lodging several guests. From the look of the rooms, they had not been disturbed for many months. Ghost and Ayama swiftly moved to the stairs, but were surprised when they encountered a pair of guards coming up the stairs. Neither group had heard the other approaching, and so there was a brief moment of uncertain silence. But both guards were looking at Ayama; Ghost remained unseen, as he had used Essence to mask his presence.
A pair of amber-colored boomerangs flying from out of nowhere soon established his presence. Each guard was struck, but much of the force was absorbed by the chain shirt they wore. They almost immediately dropped into martial arts stances, and one attempted to sweep Ayama’s legs while the other flung a needle at Ghost. Ayama immediately reacted, hooking a nearby pedestal with her leg and hurling it at her attacker to disrupt his attack, and then leapt over the pedestal as it flew, looking to push the guard down the stairs. But the guard kicked the flying pedestal into the air back at Ayama, spoiling her attack much as she had done for his. As she squared off against him again, Ayama realized that the guards were fighting with a style normally only taught to Terrestrial exalts; she had seen her old mentor, V’neef Odaask, practicing this style.
“Your master was impressive,” she commented. “You require more practice.”
Meanwhile Ghost, who had dodged the needle thrown at him, had leapt atop the banister and slid down, moving to cut off the guards’ retreat by getting behind them. His boomerangs flashed out again, but this time each guard was ready and avoided the razor sharp edges. Ghost realized that these guards would not be as easily dispatched as he’d believed.
The two guards switched opponents, and one threw another needle at Ghost while the other moved to grab on to Ayama. In the flickering lantern light, it was difficult for Ghost to tell which hand held the needle, only catching the glimmer in midair as if flew toward him. Ghost grabbed a nearby urn and swept it around in front of him, hoping to deflect it, but it flew past and lodged in his chest. Ghost put his hand up and withdrew the needle, which was coated in some dark substance. Ghost looked at the guard, and waggled his finger in disapproval; the needle had failed to penetrate the starmetal shirt he wore under his clothes. Ghost’s boomerang again flashed by the second guard, missing him by a wide margin. The guard smirked, and began to close on the man below him, until he heard a snap. Looking up, he saw that the returning boomerang had severed the wire holding up one of the massive portraits on the wall, which crashed down upon the hapless guard, knocking him unconscious.
A few feet away, Ayama and the guard flew at each other. The guard came in high trying to tackle the Solar, but she grabbed him in midair and slammed him into the stairs. Realizing that he could not handle these intruders, the guard shouted for help, and then started bolting down the stairs, barely evading Ayama’s grasp. Ghost tried to toss the poisoned needle at him, but it only grazed his neck without penetrating.
“Come on,” Ghost said, beckoning Ayama down the stairs. “The other guards will be here soon.”
“Wait.” Ayama looked back at the unconscious guard under the portrait. She turned back to Ghost. “How fast can you undress a man?” she asked.
۞
Kaliel saw the lantern lights inside the house start to move more quickly, converging on the south end of the house. “They are in trouble,” he declared, drawing his axe. He strode purposefully up to the door, followed by Zanka, and knocked loudly on the door. He waited for the span of two breaths, and knocked again.
“What are you doing?” Zanka asked.
“Giving them the opportunity to settle this amiably,” he said. “But it appears they will not accept my offer.”
Kaliel hefted his axe and brought it down into the heavy oak doors, slicing through the bar on the other side. He then planted a heavy boot into the two-inch thick door, sending it flying into kindling. The two guards who had clustered around the door were peppered with shards of wood. Kaliel rushed in amidst the confusion and laid into the guards with righteous fury. His axe came down between the two guards, cleanly missing both, but when they both looked down at the massive blade, he came up again, twisting it so the flat of the blade would catch them both and knock them out. However, they managed to twist away in the nick of time; a few strands of hair floated into the air as their beards were shaved down to the skin.
The guards rushed in, trying to subdue the massive armored figure in the doorway. One grabbed onto him, and was shrugged aside, while another flung one of his poisoned needles at Kaliel. The needle just managed to strike the Solar in the neck, and he felt the toxin in his blood, burning as it traversed his body. Gritting his teeth, Kaliel braced himself as an onslaught of fists and feet assailed him. He noted that his opponents were striking with far more force and skill that mere mortals, and for the first time he grew concerned.
Two floors above, Ayama and Ghost had heard the tremendous crash downstairs, and could hear that most of the guards had gone to deal with the disturbance. Some, at least, were continuing up the stairs to investigate the first cry of alarm. The two Solars stood in an unused sitting room; Ghost was dressed in the guard’s uniform, and had Ayama in a subduing grip. The real guard, still quite unconscious, had been rolled up in a carpet and shoved underneath a couch in the room.
“Bring your left arm up more,” Ayama coached Ghost. “They must think I am completely helpless.”
They saw the flash of a lantern in the hallway outside. “In here!” Ghost shouted. “I have one of them!”
The door burst open, and a guard looked at the two in the dark room. Ayama struggled a bit, as though she were trying unsuccessfully to escape the grip of the guard who had captured her. Ayama cried out, and very convincing tears rolled down her cheeks.
The guard in the door peered through the darkness at them, then straightened. “Subdue her and roll her in a rug until we can deal with her,” he growled at Ghost. “There’s trouble downstairs.” With that, the guard turned and ran down the stairs.
“Well,” Ghost said, releasing Ayama. “That was easy enough.”
“Perhaps we should go and help our companions,” Ayama said.
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I came here to rob this house,” Ghost said. “I will be the first to steal successfully from Factor Tunato. I must complete the mission. You go and help them, and I will come when I am finished, if Kaliel has not slain them all by then.”
Of course, he could not know that this task was proving far more challenging for the Auric Lion than he had thought. He had managed to push his way into the house, but was still being battered. The guards were somewhat startled when a slender, pale woman suddenly somersaulted between the intruder’s legs, lashing out with a fist at the closest guard. He managed to avoid the quick strike, and then grabbed Zanka around the midsection, pulling her up off her feet as she screamed and struggled to get loose.
With Zanka now in danger, Kaliel no longer felt the need for self-restraint. His aura began to glow with a golden light as he allowed the flows of Essence to guide his blade, effortlessly knocking aside two of the other guards blows and then following with a devastating upward slice, lifting the guard off the ground and slamming him to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, the bleeding guard ran away from the battle and fled up the stairs.
The guard ran to the second floor, and saw one of his compatriots in the hallway. “What is it?” the man asked, grabbing the wounded guard by the shoulders.
“The intruders! They are Anathema!” the guard shrieked.
The other guard smiled. “I know.”
It was then that the wounded guard noticed the poisoned needle that had been stuck in his neck.
One floor below, Zanka struggled in the other guard’s grip. And then, as three more rushed in, she seemed to relax. “Please, help me!” she pleaded with the new arrivals, tears streaming down her face. Their minds clouded by Zanka’s holy power, they responded by flinging poisoned darts at their companion. As the toxin took effect, the guard’s eyes began to unfocus, and his grip on Zanka loosened. The three guards followed this by a series of well-aimed kicks, which sent their ally to the floor in a heap. Zanka, keeping up appearances, also collapsed.
Kaliel tried to build upon Zanka’s ruse. “Tie him up! I saw him grab this woman in the street!” But despite the fact that the authority of the Chosen of the Unconquered Sun is absolute, the guards ignored Kaliel’s commands. Instead, they turned upon the man with the bright aura of the Anathema. “Stay behind us,” one of the guards growled at Zanka. “We shall protect you from this Anathema.”
Already sorely wounded, Kaliel grimaced at the thought of facing three fresh guards alone. But then he saw Ayama come down the stairs and run up to him, placing her hand upon his chest as she rushed up. Soothing power flowed into the Dawn’s body, easing the pain of his wounds. Ayama then jumped up and planted her feet into Kaliel’s chest, springboarding off his massive frame to leap over the heads of the guards. Refreshed, Kaliel hefted his weapon, then charged the closest guard, while one of the other guards tried to sweep out Ayama’s legs but missed. The third guard picked up the apparently unconscious Zanka. “I’ll get her out of here!” he shouted to his companions.
The guard facing Kaliel leapt into the air to deliver a kick to the head, but before he could reach the massive Northerner, Kaliel slapped the incoming leg aside, and then used the opening created to cleave into the man’s groin. The guard twisted just enough to avoid being bisected, but landed with a heavy thud, and quickly scrambled toward the rear door, bleeding from a gash in his inner thigh. But his escape was cut off when Ayama quickly ran up the stairs a few steps and then swung around on the railing, kicking the guard in the head and propelling him back toward Kaliel. Desperate, the wounded guard used a maneuver that sent the armored warrior to the ground.
Zanka heard the crash as Kaliel fell. “Please,” she said in feigned weakness to the guard carrying her away, “help my friend, the woman on the stairs.” The guard immediately stopped and set Zanka down. “Wait here,” he commanded, and ran back to the battle. The guard ran in just in time to see Kaliel rise and lay his opponent low by tearing off a section of the banister and crushing his skull. The guard who had been carrying Zanka started to rush in, but was dragged to the ground when the woman he had ‘rescued’ grabbed onto his neck, pulling him down while pleading to be protected. He looked up to see the older woman he was supposed to help take down his ally with a vicious kick to the midsection. The last guard, deciding that no woman, no matter how beautiful, was worth his life, stood up and ran out the front door.
Kaliel turned to pursue the fleeing guard, but stopped when he saw that the man had been stopped by a new arrival, a well-dressed man who had his hand on the guard’s chest. The guard was shivering and trembling at the man’s touch. Kaliel grabbed a small table near the door and flung it at the guard’s back. The table crashed into the guard’s skull, and a large splinter drove itself into his shoulder, but the guard remained perfectly still, not reacting to the attack. When the guard did move, it was to collapse backward. The guard looked as though he had aged a century in a few moments, and tendrils of energy drifted from the body into the hand of the well-dressed man.
The man and Kaliel faced each other for a long, silent moment. Then, snarling, the rich man leapt at Kaliel, hands extended. Kaliel spun around, his axe severing the man’s hands before coming around again and slicing him in half at the waist. The odor of rot burst from the corpse, and the body fell apart. Standing in its place was a glaring, hateful ghost, who fixed a stare on Kaliel before vanishing.
Zanka, seeing only that Kaliel was dealing with the fleeing guard, went upstairs to find Ghost. She found him inside the factor’s office, looking up at a large portrait of a noble-looking man that was marked with an engraved plaque; Tunato Kun. Without a word, he pulled on one side of the portrait, which swiveled out on hinges to reveal a barred door.
“There are likely valuables in the desk,” Ghost said to Zanka without turning, tossing an empty satchel onto the polished oak surface. “Letters of credit and the like. Gather up what you find and anything else interesting.” He set to work on the door’s lock as Zanka began opening drawers.
Ayama and Kaliel arrived in the room just as Ghost sprung the lock. They looked up at the portrait, which looked identical to the possessed man they had just slain.
“That could be bad,” Ayama said. She informed Ghost and Zanka of what had transpired outside.
“What kind of a creature was it?” Zanka asked. “A hungry ghost?”
Ayama shook her head. “This spirit had an intellect, and motivations of its own.”
“I don’t think it was a ghost,” Kaliel said, “I believe it was an air elemental, given the way it vanished in the breeze.”
“I think,” Ayama said ,choosing her words carefully, “that we must agree to disagree once again. No elemental I know can possess a body. Regardless, the body has been destroyed, and that was the body of a prominent figure.”
“Then we had best finish what we started,” Ghost said. He looked displeased, but proceeded to pull open the heavy door.
A charnel reek wafted out of the door, which opened to a set of stairs leading down into the basement. Ghost and Zanka could hear a slithering sound from some large creature below.
“Let us see what is down there,” Kaliel said.
“Be careful,” Ayama warned. “I have only eased your pain, your wounds are still present.”
“Then I will go first,” Ghost said. He silently crept down the stairs disappearing in the gloom. A few minutes later, he returned. “There is a large lizard below,” he reported. “It’s the size of a grown man, though quite gaunt. There are also about a dozen corpses down there, all surrounded by circles of salt. The bodies have had narrow strips of flesh removed from them. I believe we can say what happened to the missing servants and the previous burglars.” He looked at Zanka. “The Gentle Art of Persuasion is on the wall on the far side of the room.”
“It sounds like a tomb beast,” Ayama said. “They are popular in Sijan as grave guardians, because they will only consume living flesh, and will not touch carrion. They exude a paralyzing venom from their teeth, and usually feed by carving strips of flesh away with their narrow tongues.”
“Certainly a horrible enough death to create a hungry ghost from those bodies,” Zanka said.
“I think it sounds more like a sand-swimmer,” Kaliel commented, though he said no more about it.**
“I am not sure that we are ready to face this beast,” Ayama said. “Kaliel is wounded, and I am certain his anima was seen from quite a distance away. People could be coming to investigate as we speak.”
“We won’t get another chance at Zanka’s artifact,” Kaliel argued. “If we work together, in a coordinated attack…”
“Seven spirits below!” Ghost swore, throwing up his hands in frustration. He turned and marched down the stairs, his pace quickening even though he was moving just as silently as before. A few steps from the bottom, he made a tremendous leap across the room, sailing over the head of the tomb beast unseen. He flipped in midair as he leapt, so that when he hit the far wall his feet met the stone surface, and he was then able to spring off the wall and return to the stairs the way he came. By the time Kaliel was at the bottom of the stairs, a flame piece drawn and ready, Ghost was on his way back up, the two golden fans in his hands.
“I suggest we seal this room off again,” he said as he emerged from the darkness and handed the fans to Zanka. “We can deal with the tomb beast another day.” He shrugged. “Or, let time deal with it naturally.”
“I will not countenance letting this creature starve to death,” Ayama said. “The beast could be captured and sold to Sijan.”
“Very well,” Ghost answered. “But another day.”
Standing nearby, Kaliel noticed that Zanka was frowning. “What is the matter?”
“These fans,” she said. “They are not the Gentle Art of Persuasion.”
Everyone crowded around to look closer. They immediately saw that the fans were made of actual gold, not orichalcum, and that while quite beautiful, were not sturdy enough to be used as weapons.
“It seems our quest is not yet complete,” sighed Kaliel.
“But we should leave before others come,” Ayama reminded them. “There are no more answers here.”
“At least the night wasn’t a total loss,” Zanka said. She held up an ornately written piece of parchment. “This is an official invitation to Lady Rinalta’s reception tomorrow night for the visiting dignitaries of House Cathak of the Scarlet Empire and the Immaculate Order.” She smiled. “I do not think the factor will be able to attend.”
--------------------------------
* Kaliel, early on and continuing to this day, has an uncanny knack for botching any sort of Intelligence-based check and coming to completely the wrong conclusions. He's not dumb (average Intelligence, really), just unlucky with this particular kind of roll.
Day broke over the city of Lynnisbrook, though only Zanka and Ayama were awake to witness the dawn. Kaliel was still resting, recuperating from his wounds, and Ghost was still asleep after a later night than the rest. They had returned to their inn from Tunato’s manor just past midnight, but Ghost had gone off after that to meet his underworld contact to deliver the promised goods from the factor’s home. He also mentioned going to find a brothel.
“I need something to take my mind off how sloppy that was,” Ghost had said, looking displeased.
“We could not have known that the artifact was not in his home,” Kaliel argued.
“That is not the problem,” Ghost sighed. “The entire job was brutish and lacked finesse. It was like trying to pick a man’s pocket using a warstrider.”
Furrows appeared on Kaliel’s brow. “I thought that you were in danger, and came to your aid.”
Ghost waved his hand in the air dismissively. “You misunderstand, my friend. I do not fault your decision, or your actions. I fault my own. It should not have been necessary for you to rescue me.”
The Nightbringer had, in fact, questioned whether he should take credit for the job at all; though he desired to build his reputation on the way to becoming Creation’s greatest thief, the butchery they’d had to commit was not the reputation he’d hoped for.
Zanka, however, had put his mind at ease. When Tunato’s death was discovered – which they reasoned would not be known immediately, since the factor had been somewhat reclusive – Zanka said would begin spreading the rumor that the infamous thief Resplendent Ghost of Midnight had robbed the factor’s manor, but in the process discovered a horrible truth; that the factor was possessed by a malignant spirit. The infamous thief had recruited help to go in and eradicate the taint of evil, but Tunato Kun had been slain in the process. The story was simple – as it was mostly true – and disconnected Ghost’s burglary from the violence done. The evidence in the basement would be more than enough to incriminate Tunato, and any who might have witnessed Kaliel’s anima igniting would attribute the strange lights to ghosts rather than Anathema. Still, Ghost had not seemed particularly pleased when he left one of his tokens atop Tunato’s desk to mark the crime as his own.
The night had passed, and in the morning there was no news about Tunato, and so the four Solars set about the task of preparing for the reception at Lady Rinalta’s manor. Ghost sat at a table, carefully altering their stolen invitation to take Tunato’s name off, and replace it with Zanka’s.
“There is a tailor’s shop, not far from Tunato’s manor,” Zanka was saying to Kaliel and Ayama. “The two of you should go there this morning and get suitable clothing.”
“I have my uniform that I wear when negotiating mercenary contracts,” Kaliel said.
“I doubt that will be sufficient,” Zanka said. “That uniform is suitable for a military person meeting other military persons to negotiate military arrangements. It will not be suitable for a formal diplomatic reception. You and I will already stand out to some degree because we are Northerners – being improperly dressed will only draw more unwanted attention.”
“What can we expect at this reception?” Ayama asked. “Do we know what the agenda of the Realm agents is?”
“We do not.” Zanka admitted. “That is why Ghost and I will spend the morning gathering just this kind of information.”
After going to the tailor and leaving him with specific instructions, as well as a good portion of Kaliel’s silver, Zanka and Ghost went on a tour of the upper-class salons and teahouses, learning all they could about the reception and the guests of honor. Within minutes, the mundane details were known – there were about a hundred guests expected, comprised of the wealthiest residents of Lynnisbrook, and there would be a dramatic reading of a scene from a old play about one of the Elemental Dragons and the mortal man she loved. They also heard several rumors about some of the alliances, dealings, and trysts that were expected to occur during the reception. Unfortunately, they quickly found that the populace knew few of the details of the reasons for the Realm’s visit. They did learn that the Immaculate representative had not yet arrived in Lynnisbrook, and it was feared that the reception might need to be postponed.
“Who else can we talk to?” Zanka asked. “Someone in this city must know more about why the Realm is here.”
“There is one person we can see,” Ghost said. “Come with me.”
They walked up to the gates surrounding Lady Rinalta’s manor, and Ghost approached the guards stationed there. “Please inform Lady Rinalta that Chuzei Tendo would like a few moments of her time.”
“Right away, sir,” the guard said. A page was summoned, and the message was sent inside. While they waited, Zanka flashed an inquiring look at Ghost.
“If Resplendent Ghost of Midnight is to become Creation’s greatest thief,” he explained quietly, “then there are times when it is inconvenient to use that name. For more public occasions, I am Chuzei Tendo, a traveling nobleman’s son from Greyfalls. It was Tendo who located the fabled Divine Gift to End Suffering and saved Lady Rinalta – thus I have some small amount of recognition here which I can leverage.”
Indeed, within a few moments Ghost and Zanka were being led through the halls of the manor. They saw preparations going on all around them for the evening reception as they made their way up to Lady Rinalta’s chambers. They were given a private audience with the lady, with only a few guards present.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Ghost said. “I know you have much to do, and will not take up your time.”
Lady Rinalta, though still somewhat frail from having endured years of illness, was looking much stronger and healthier. “It is good to see you here under fully lit circumstances, Chuzei Tendo,” Lady Rinalta said.
Ghost smiled. “Lady, may I introduce you to my friend Zanka Odokari, who hails from the North.”
“And a lovely young woman she is,” Rinalta said, extending her hand. Zanka curtsied, and took the hand that was offered, clasping it briefly before sitting on a nearby divan. Rinalta looked at Ghost again. “But I don’t think that this is the only reason you have come to see me.”
“It pleases me that your mind is as sharp as ever, and that soon your body will be just as hale.” Ghost leaned forward. “I am aware that there is a reception being held here tonight for two visitors from the Scarlet Empire. I would very much like to attend - it is not often that one is able to meet citizens of the Blessed Isle.”
“I see no reason why not,” Lady Rinalta replied. She walked to a desk and pulled out an invitation, which she quickly filled out. “You are an honored guest of this nation, after all.”
“I am curious,” Zanka asked as Lady Rinalta handed the invitation to Ghost. “What has brought the Realm here? From what my friend Tendo has told me of you, you are a firm supporter of the Confederation.” She smiled politely. “Of course, I know that as the ruler of a nation, you must often have to make decisions that conflict with your personal opinions.”
“This is true,” Rinalta sighed. “It is no great secret that our own military is not large, and our treasuries are not vast enough to afford mercenaries. Despite the amount of silver that we produce, most of the wealth gets sent south by the Guild. There have been signs that there will soon be an escalation in the conflict between the Linowan Nation and Halta, and that the Bull of the North may be preparing another offensive against the Linowan.”
“Which will put pressure on the Linowan to acquire resources,” Zanka concluded. “And your own kingdom lies close enough to their borders to be a target of raids.”
“I have had an unspoken agreement with the Linowan since I came to power,” Lady Rinalta said. “Perhaps the only thing I can truly say I have provided to my people. That agreement that came close to being broken when I was afflicted with that terrible disease. I fear that another push from the Bull may be enough to end that accord. Lookshy is too far away to aid us, and their eyes are fixed upon the problems in Thorns.”
“And this is when the Empire came to you,” Ghost said.
“Indeed. House Cathak has offered to station a full dragon of their House legions here in Lagan, and the Immaculate Order has proposed using Lynnisbrook as a staging area for a permanent Wyld Hunt. Neither would be enough to prevent a full invasion, but it would be a deterrent.”
Ghost and Zanka exchanged a brief glance. A Wyld Hunt here would make life very uncomfortable for them.
“Would I be correct in assuming that you would be willing to entertain a viable alternative?” Ghost asked.
“Definitely. Do you happen to know of one?”
Ghost smiled. “Well, I did find the Divine Gift to End Suffering. Perhaps I can find a spare army laying about somewhere.”
“Will you have something ready by tonight?”
“I will do my best. After all, I would hate to see such a fine, beautiful young ruler such as yourself pressed under the thumb of the Empire. If you are going to be pressed under anyone, I would prefer it was me.”
Zanka raised her fan to hide the smile on her lips as one of the guards chuckled a little. Lady Rinalta fixed that guard with a stare.
“Report to the Master of Drills,” she told him. “Tell him you are to work upon the basics of discipline.”
As a much more subdued guard departed, Lady Rinalta returned her gaze to Ghost. “I look forward to seeing you this evening, Chuzei Tendo. I am sure you will enjoy the dramatic presentation.”
“I am looking forward to it.”
۞
The companions met at mid-day at their inn, to report on what they had learned. Ghost and Zanka relayed their experiences to Kaliel and Ayama, in particular the details of the Empire’s offer to Lagan.
“After our measurements were taken this morning,” Kaliel said, “Ayama and I went our separate ways. I went down to the docks to speak with the crew of the Cathak’s ship. Though I had hoped to learn some details about how a First Age vessel such as that one operates, the crew appear to be fairly ignorant of how it works. However, I was there when the Immaculate representative arrived.”
“Ah good,” Zanka said, “then there will be a party tonight.”
“He is an Earth Aspected Terrestrial,” Kaliel explained. “Of a size that rivals my own. He was heavily armored and bore a large tetsubo, both of white jade.”
“I thought that Immaculates did not use armor,” Ghost said.
“The Earth Dragon Style can be practiced while wearing armor, unlike most other forms of unarmed combat,” Kaliel said. “I could not catch his full name – something with ‘Ground’ in it.”
“He is known as Ground Ripple,” Zanka said, “and his companion who arrived yesterday is Cathak Ejon.”
Kaliel nodded in acceptance of the new information. “He arrived in a very small craft, with an escort of five other Immaculates. Two of them accompanied Ground Ripple to the manor, and the other three went off into the city.”
“I saw those other three,” Ayama said. “I went into the poor sections of the city, near the river, where I was teaching the people about cleanliness and doing some healing. The monks came and were doing much the same as I was – they were espousing the tenets of their faith as well, of course, but mostly seemed interested in aiding the less fortunate.”
“The important thing to consider is that the Immaculates are here, and are prepared to make Lady Rinalta an offer,” Zanka said. “How shall we respond?”
“What is the status of your forces in Chrysanthemum?” Ghost asked.
“My company consists of about a hundred troops,” Kaliel replied. “I could spare no more than seventy.”
“That is less than five hundred,” Ghost said. “Hardly a tempting offer to counter House Cathak.”
“I am more concerned about this Wyld Hunt the Immaculate is offering,” Kaliel said. “They would be within striking distance of my own city from here, and there are enough rumors that Chrysanthemum is ruled by an Anathema that it would become a target.”
“Perhaps if a portion of your soldiers could come here,” Ayama said, “and help to train the local populace as a militia. We could also attempt to negotiate with the Linowan, or even the Haltans if that is necessary. And then Lady Rinalta would be able to address the Realm’s offer from a stronger position.”
“We have much to discuss,” Zanka said, “and only a few hours remain before the reception. We will only have one chance to keep the Empire out of Lagan. Let us see what kind of offer we can make.”
Nobles dressed in their finest moved about the many rooms of Lady Rinalta’s manor, socializing and conducting all manner of clandestine business, as was the norm for events such as these. Lady Silver had rarely entertained during her long illness, and so care had been taken to invite as many of Lagan’s important personages as was feasible. Thus the arrival of four more guests, whose names were relatively unknown, was hardly remarked upon.
The four Chosen split up and spent a few minutes socializing and getting a feel for the room before moving to find their targets. Ayama found the Immaculate monk Ground Ripple conversing with a local merchant, while Kaliel spotted Cathak Ejon trying to disengage herself from a local baron who was obviously quite enamored of either House Cathak or of Ejon herself. He quickly assessed Ejon’s entourage, and saw that they were nothing more than Realm soldiers that had been pressed into an appearance at a social function. Their discomfort was almost palpable.
“Make note of Ejon’s people,” Kaliel muttered to Ghost, as he and Zanka were passing by on their way to find the queen. “A lapse in discipline could prove damaging to their cause.”
Ghost nodded, and then caught up to Zanka as she entered the main hall. Lady Rinalta was near the center of the room, surrounded by courtiers and attendants. Ghost made the first move, attempting to make his way toward the queen. But unlike earlier, when he was able to use his name to get a private audience, here he was in the public eye, and under the scrutiny of those tasked to attend to Lady Rinalta, and so his efforts came to naught.
“I thought you said you were skilled at such matters,” Zanka said as Ghost circled back around.
“I am,” he said, “if it involves convincing someone to leave the party for more personal diversions. Trying to influence political policy is a less familiar role for me.”
Zanka sighed. “Allow me, then.” She began to move toward Lady Rinalta, drawing the gaze of several as she moved. She had chosen her wardrobe to impart the maximum visual impact, festooned in white and gold with tangerine and scarlet accents, which contrasted with the local style of silver and darker colors. Combined with her natural radiant visage, she came close to upstaging the queen herself – but not quite; Zanka had been careful about that.
As the Eclipse began to make her way through Lady Rinalta’s courtiers, Cathak Ejon finally made her way into the main hall, accompanied by her entourage and Kaliel, who had been silently observing the Terrestrial envoy. He had already gathered from her long conversation with the sycophant in the other room that Ejon was here to represent her own House, not the Empire, but that she was confident and secure in her success and her ability to follow through on her offer. Rather than intervene directly with the Cathak, who was now making her own foray into Lady Rinalta’s entourage, Kaliel decided he would work on the soldiers she had brought with her, hoping to instigate some sort of lapse in discipline that would reflect poorly on the quality of the troops that Ejon was planning on offering.
Zanka, however, who had also noticed Ejon making her move, was bolder in her offensive. “I have heard that the Cathak intend to offer a Dragon of troops to defend Lagan,” she said, loud enough for her voice to carry to the queen. “Not exactly what I would call a significant investment on their part, but then again, House Cathak has many interests all throughout Creation. In fact, one wonders exactly how committed they would be if something more pressing to their House were to arise in the region. Certainly, the Scarlet Empire is no longer the paragon of unity they once were.”
“But, my lady,” said the courtier to whom Zanka was nominally speaking, “would a formal treaty not obligate House Cathak keep their soldiers here, regardless of their other interests?”
“I suppose that is true,” Zanka replied, “assuming that the commander of these forces has a sense of honor greater than their loyalty to their House. But I am sure that five hundred foreign troops here will be sufficient to deter the Bull of the North – I presume the Bull will take an interest when the Immaculate Order establishes a Wyld Hunt here in the city.”
The crowds nearby murmured uncomfortably at this thought. Another courtier, one more seasoned, quickly stepped forward. “I can tell you have trained in the dramatic arts,” he said to Zanka. “We are staging a dramatic reading later this evening. I would be happy to introduce you to the performers – they would welcome the addition of such a strong and beautiful voice as yours.”
Though flattered, Zanka easily brushed aside the attempt to remove her from the scene. “I am sure that the performance will be delightful to watch,” she replied smoothly.
“Your Highness,” Cathak Ejon interjected, a hint of irritation in her voice. She had been trying unsuccessfully for some time to gain the attention of the queen, but was distracted by the fact that a group of young minor noblemen and noblewomen had suddenly taken an inordinate interest in her soldiers. Her soldiers had maintained discipline, though it had taken a few stern glances and sharp words from her. However, there was also the problem of the large Northerner who had been conversing with her men, apparently making disparaging comments about her command. She was fighting a war on several fronts, and was forced to split her attention. She glanced about the room, wondering where Ground Ripple had gone. He was supposed to be helping her, gods damn him.
At that very moment, Ground Ripple was engaged in an intense conversation with a tall, lovely young woman named Ayama, who professed to be a healer of some kind. She had approached him as he was on his way to join Cathak Ejon, and had asked him about his opinions on the strange malady that had once afflicted the ruler of this tiny little kingdom. Her own knowledge of the subject seemed far more detailed that what he had heard before, raising suspicions in him. His own line of questioning had only deepened his suspicions that this woman was more than she seemed.
“I would be very interested in knowing more about the subject of Lady Rinalta’s illness,” Ground Ripple said. “You seem an authority on the subject.”
Ayama smiled. “I only know what I have heard from others.”
“But until this moment I had not known that the disease was magical in nature. This is not a widely known fact. Your insight into the nature of this disease is impressive.”
“You flatter me,” Ayama said. “But I feel I must apologize. Far too much of this conversation has centered upon me, and in my own vanity I have allowed it to continue. But I would be most interested in hearing of your reasons fro being so far from home. What brings you to this kingdom?”
“I am really more interested in learning more about you,” Ground Ripple said.
“If you truly wish to know of me, then all you need to know is that I am a healer at heart. Everything that moves me, moves me to heal. So yes, I do know a great deal of the queen’s ailment. I know a great deal of the ailments of all Creation, all of the things that harm the people and keep them from excelling, and oppress them. And all I wish is to treat their ailments. This is the essence of compassion, I believe.”
“Your philosophy intrigues me,” the Earth Aspect said. “Perhaps we could retire to a quiet balcony to discuss this where we may have some privacy?”
“But are not such conversations meant for public ears?” Ayama countered, with a smile. “So that those around us may be inspired and enlightened by our discourse on virtue?” In truth, she merely did not want to be alone with this massive Terrestrial, and knew he would be hard-pressed to ignore an opportunity to spread his message.
Meanwhile, Zanka and Cathak Ejon had begun a hidden battle of words for the queen’s ear. Ejon had managed to curtail Kaliel and Ghost’s attempts to undermine her authority, and the Cathak soldiers were now almost eunuch-like in their ability to resist temptation. Zanka had hoped to use a lapse in discipline as an argument against allowing foreign troops into Lagan, but this was not coming to fruition. And now Ejon was beginning to build up the military history of her House and past victories against overwhelming forces, undermining her previous arguments about the offering of the Cathaks being insufficient. But then Zanka heard Ghost, speaking to a Guild merchant, remarking upon how cold and aloof the people in Ejon’s entourage seemed. In an instant, Zanka had her opening. Summoning Essence, she invested her words with power, such that they could not be ignored.
“It is one thing to speak of glory in battle,” Zanka began. “But the truth is that war is only a small part of the lives of any soldier. The rest of the time must be spent in the pursuits of life – food, companionship, pleasures of the mind and body. But I cannot help but notice as I look around that those who have come representing the Realm have been reluctant – no, resistant – to mingling with the local populace, or even conversing with them. They remain unmoved, even in light of this kingdom’s best efforts to welcome them and honor them! Such aloofness smacks heavily, if I may be so bold, of the well-known penchant for arrogance and superiority displayed by many from the Blessed Isle. It is no secret that the Empire ultimately regards the East as nothing but a renegade province, lacking both wisdom and culture. I fear that a Dragon of Realm troops would be no different than the dozen that have been brought here. They would look at everything around them and think only ‘it is better at home’. Thus they would scorn goods made in Lagan for those imported from the Isle, would refuse to associate with your citizens, whether common or noble-born, and would make every effort to separate themselves from your people. But how can soldiers truly be expected to defend a land they have no connection with? Who cannot see the greatness of its people, or its queen? Lagan deserves soldiers who will treat the defense of its lands as more than a military commission, but will have a true emotional connection with its people, who will put their heart and soul into battle, and who will ultimately represent the interests of Lagan, and not of a foreign host.”
The entire room fell silent, enraptured by Zanka’s words. Cathak Ejon, with a great effort of will, managed to clear her mind, and stepped forward to address Zanka. “You are an eloquent speaker,” she said quietly to the Crowned Sun. “Perhaps you and I could adjourn to somewhere more private?”
Zanka considered the offer of the Fire Aspect Terrestrial, and considered it more seriously than she had expected. It seemed that Ejon had Essence-charged fangs of her own when it came to social repartee. Still, she managed to ignore the Cathak’s offer, and continued with her own speech.
“Indeed, who better than the citizens of Lagan to defend their own land? Has not your own queen, Lady Rinalta, managed to ensure the peace and prosperity of this land through the strength of her word and her will, even in the face of crippling infirmity? Can her people offer up no less than this? All that is required is someone who would be willing to shape that will, to form a militia that is of Lagan and for Lagan. I have come here this evening to offer the queen and her people exactly this.” She pulled a roll of fine vellum from her bodice and presented it to Lady Rinalta. “Your Highness, this is a letter from the ruler of the city of Chrysanthemum, and the leader of the mercenary company known as the Chrysanthemum Knights. He offers to send a contingent of his Knights to Lynnisbrook for the purpose of training volunteers from your local populace. His soldiers will also assist in planning the defense of your nation, including the building of garrisons and supply depots throughout your lands. In addition, if needed my companions and I will seek an audience with the Queen of the Linowan Nation, in order to establish a formal declaration of non-aggression with Lagan.”
Lady Rinalta took the vellum and unrolled it, reading the letter silently. Of course, the letter had been written only this afternoon, penned by Ghost’s elegant hand, though the contents were exactly as Zanka had described them. She saw Cathak Ejon desperately try to get Lady Rinalta to move away for a private conversation, but the room was now filled with such a patriotic fervor that her courtiers were not allowing their queen to go anywhere.
Finally, Lady Rinalta rolled up the letter. “I am satisfied with what I have seen,” she announced loudly. “The Kingdom of Lagan shall enter into a formal alliance with the city of Chrysanthemum.”
The room erupted in cheers. Cathak Ejon, scowling, quickly turned and stalked out of the room, followed by her soldiers. In the next room, Ground Ripple had turned away from Ayama when he heard the announcement. “What?”
Ghost stepped up to Ayama as soon as the Immaculate’s back was turned. “Time to go, I believe,” he whispered.
When Ground Ripple turned again, the woman he had been speaking with was gone. Instead, he saw a furious Cathak Ejon, her eyes blazing.
۞
It was several hours before the four Chosen were allowed to depart Lady Rinalta’s estate. The representatives of the Realm, of course, had left much earlier, and from the balcony one could see the masts of Cathak Ejon’s ship as it moved out of the harbor.
They emerged into the courtyard, with a few others still milling about, still flush with their victory. But the smiles disappeared as they heard a disturbance, the sound of hoofbeats coming up the hill, approaching rapidly.
“A rider moving at such speed at this time of night in this district is not a good thing,” Ghost said.
“An attack?” Ayama ventured. “Perhaps the Cathak or the Immaculate seek vengeance?”
The horse and its rider came into view, galloping through the main gate of the estate before the guards could react.
Zanka gasped, and grasped Kaliel’s arm.
“I see him,” Kaliel growled. He raised a fist into the air. “Here!”
The rider turned his steed and rode up to the four Solars. The horse was flecked with foam, and looked as though it had been ridden nearly to death. The rider was in no better condition. All of them could now see that the man bore the heraldry of Kaliel’s own Knights of the Golden Flower.
“My lord,” the rider gasped, “our city is about to be besieged by an army of undead.”
Kaliel and his friends sat atop their horses on a small hill, overlooking the city of Chrysanthemum and the walking dead who surrounded it.
They had ridden hard for two weeks, leaving Lynnisbrook within hours after Kaliel’s soldier had ridden up to them. From here, they could see that the city had been sealed shut for some time, probably since shortly after the scout had left to find the Auric Lion. The horde of dead, numbering perhaps a thousand all told, had gathered all around the city’s walls, staying back out of the range of bows. The majority of them were clustered in two groups, one at each gate.
“They attack at night,” the scout had told them on the way. “We drive them off, but our losses have been growing, and we have been unable to resupply the town. I was barely able to slip past them to come and find you, sir. Sergeant Brusk has organized a militia to help defend the walls, but the people are growing hungry, and desperate.”
“Where did they come from?” Ghost asked.
“From the northwest,” the scout replied. “More than that we cannot say.”
Kaliel turned to his companions. “We will need to find a way to enter the city,” he announced.
“Give me time to study the lay of the land,” Ghost said. “I can find a path. We will have to leave the horses behind.”
“Kaliel,” Ayama said, “did you not say that there is a spirit who controls the lands outside your city?”
“Yes, Blizzard That Topples the Oak.”
“Where might I find him? The presence of the walking dead in his lands is no more tolerable to him than it is to you, I am certain. Perhaps he will aid you.”
“Perhaps,” Kaliel said. “I would try that stand of pine to the southwest. He has been seen there most frequently, I am told.”
Ayama dismounted and set off on foot. After several minutes of careful searching and addressing the unseen spirits surrounding her, she was finally approached by a minor wind-spirit, who beckoned her forward. She walked into a silent clearing on a small rise, the only sound from the wind.
Then, a figure appeared. Tall and imposing, the spirit looked like one of the members of the Icewalker tribes, though wearing clothing that appeared far more urban that would be expected from either an Icewalker or an elemental spirit. Clearly, the spirit had altered his appearance since his arrival at Kaliel’s gate. Ayama bowed.
“You are Blizzard That Topples the Oak?”
“I am. What do you want?”
“My name is Ayama. I have come in regard to the many undead that now surround the city of Chrysanthemum. I suspect that their presence here is displeasing to you.”
“This goes without saying,” Blizzard rumbled. “Though nothing has happened as of yet.”
“The lord of the city intends to deal with the problem soon,” Ayama said. “I have come to see if you are willing to offer assistance to his cause.”
Blizzrd grumbled. “Who is asking?”
Ayama bowed again. “The request is mine, though I can carry your words to Kaliel. He is ultimately the one who will approve.”
“Then he is ultimately the one who must ask. I will await him here.”
Ayama returned to her companions and relayed the spirits words. Kaliel grunted in response.
“We will see how the first day’s fighting goes,” he said.
“Kaliel…” Ayama began.
“I know what you will say, Ayama,” Kaliel replied. “But I must think of the future beyond this event. Blizzard That Topples the Oak wants me to humble myself. If it is needed to save my people, I will do so. But it will not do for Blizzard to believe that he has an advantage over me.”
Ayama’s look was slightly disapproving, but she nodded. “Just remember that if you end up needing his aid later, he will make you eat that much more crow.”
“I understand.”
Ghost returned shortly thereafter, and guided the four Solars and the scout across the fields and toward the southern wall. As they approached the city, an unexpected shift in the undead horde brought them within sight of the group, but before they could be reached, the men on the walls extended long poles, allowing them to climb to safety.
The scene inside the city was bleak. The entire town carried the reek of unwashed bodies and wastes that could not be disposed. The faces of many showed the signs of mild starvation. Both Ayama and Zanka looked almost sick; the former from worry, the latter from the stink.
“Kaliel,” Ayama asked, “where would I find your quartermaster?”
Kaliel pointed at a building near the center of town, and Ayama departed. Soon, a large man came running up to Kaliel and saluted; a whispered comment from Zanka identified him as Sergeant Brusk. He and Kaliel exchanged a few words, and then made their way to the main command post in the center of town. Ghost and Zanka followed. They entered a large office, which was dominated by a sturdy looking desk that had obviously not been used in months, though it had been kept clean. A smaller desk, belonging to Brusk, was off to one side and piled with parchment.
“Roughly four weeks ago,” Brusk began, “our scouts noted a horde of walking dead coming from the northwest, and moving with some purpose toward Chrysanthemum. We secured what supplies we had and fortified the city while trying to gain intelligence on the enemy. To date we have been unable to identify any sort of command structure, though it is clear they are being guided by an intelligence – note the fact that they only attack at night, and remain out of range in the day. It is uncertain if our city was the primary target for this horde, or was merely a target of opportunity.”
“We will need to break this siege quickly,” Kaliel said. “I have need of you to the south.”
“I think everyone would appreciate that, sir,” Brusk said.
“Morale has been a concern, sergeant?” Zanka asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I will see what I can do for them,” Zanka said.
“What is our current field strength?” Kaliel asked.
“We can field three-quarters of the Knights,” Brusk reported. “The rest are down with injuries or illness.”
“What illness?”
Ayama walked into the room at that moment. “The illness caused by living for a month without fresh food or water,” she replied. “And the fact that some of your people are starting to eat the rats does not help matters. Your quartermaster has been trying to warn people, but he’s certain that some have grown hungry enough to do this.”
“All the more reason to end this,” Kaliel said. “Ayama, I will take you to meet with our healers. Zanka, spend some time among the people and give them hope. Ghost…”
Ghost held up his hands, smiling. “I have no talents which will aid in these matters, Kaliel, this I know. If nothing else, I will man the walls tonight and lend what aid I can.”
The attack came as soon as the sun set. The dead swarmed the walls from all sides, clambering atop each other in an attempt to enter the city. Men and women lashed out at them with swords, axes, and long hooked poles. A few unfortunates were pulled, screaming, from the walls, while others simply dropped from exhaustion as the night wore on.
The attacks ceased as the sky began to lighten, and the dead withdrew. The city’s defenders also vanished from the walls, retreating to safety. The dead shuffled about for a few minutes, and then began to shamble away, moving off toward the trees.
The horde stopped suddenly as a loud noise echoed across the cold plain. The main gates of Chrysanthemum opened for the first time in weeks. The sun blazed over the horizon as the sound of thunder filled the air – but it was not the sun whose light blazed across the fields, but that of Kaliel, whose anima unfurled like a pair of golden wings as he led his Knights in a charge toward the walking dead.
The hooves of the horses thundered as the wedge or armored warriors approached. A swarm of throwing axes preceded the Knights as they closed in, joined by a pair of amber-colored boomerangs. Thus there was already a considerable gap in the horde when the Knights crashed into it. Rotting flesh and bone flew apart as blades flashed and hooves trampled, and the wedge crashed through the mass of walking corpses and out the other side. The Knights quickly wheeled around for another charge, but the dead, recovering from the shock, quickly closed ranks and pursued. But the dead, though far more numerous, were disorganized, and could not penetrate the close ranks of Kaliel’s forces. The dead could also not withstand the attacks of Ayama, whose very touch sent them to their final rest.
Surrounded by zombies, Kaliel’s Knights dug in and simply began hacking at dead limbs, surrounded by the blazing light of multiple Solar animas rising into the sky. Zanka, who was riding near the center and shouting encouragement to the soldiers, was nonetheless looking sickened by the smell of dead, cold flesh and putrefying organs being spilled upon the cold ground. Soon the ground was slick with gore, though almost all of it was from the unliving invaders. Within a few minutes, it was the Knights who had the advantage of numbers. With the mass of the enemy dispatched, Kaliel was finally able to see the entity that commanded them; a ghost, its ravenous, hateful eyes fixed on the Dawn commander that had destroyed his army.
Wheeling around on her horse, trying to avoid getting too close to the front lines, Zanka looked back at Chrysanthemum and saw something quite unusual. The gates had been opened again, and there was a steady stream of people moving along the outer wall, heading for the river. They looked as thought they had hurriedly gathered everything they could carry with them. The stream of people was guarded by member of the town’s militia, who kept a wary eye out for any of the walking dead who had strayed from the battle.
“What is happening over there?” Zanka shouted, pointing. Ghost, following her gesture, sawed on his reins to get his horse turned around, and went galloping through an opening in the lines. He rode up to the gates.
“Corporal! What is going on here?”
“The sergeant’s ordered an evacuation of the city, sir,” the soldier said. “I don’t know why, but he said we had to get everyone to a safer location.”
“Safer than a walled city?” Ghost jumped off his horse and ran into the city, finding Sergeant Brusk at the center of town, shouting commands from a tower.
“What is happening here, Brusk?” Ghost asked.
“We need to get out of the city,” the sergeant growled. “It is no longer safe.”
Ghost looked around. “I see no breach.”
“The town was not invaded. Do you know how some of our people were eating rats?”
“I heard of that, yes,” Ghost answered.
“A few of those grew ill and died last night. Their deaths were not greatly noted, on account of those who fell defending the walls. This morning, just after the attack began, they rose again.”
“Seven Spirits Below!” Ghost exclaimed.
“They have been dealt with, but we lost a few citizens to them. There are many more who are ill, and I do not know who else will fall ill, or if this contamination will spread. So I have ordered everyone who is healthy to head for the river to make camp. The infirm and those known to have eaten rats are to remain in the city where they can be contained.”
“I will take this news to Kaliel,” Ghost said, he bolted for the gate where he had left his horse.
The Dawn Caste warrior was still in the midst of battle – though it was all but won, the dead were not wont to seek terms or surrender. The ghostly commander had tried to advance on Kaliel, but had been intercepted by Ayama, who attacked with fists blazing with Essence. Within seconds, it had dissolved into the air, destroyed.
Ghost came riding up. “Kaliel! There is trouble within the city!” He explained to everyone what had been discovered that morning.
Kaliel wheeled around. “Knights!” he shouted, “the city must be evacuated! Go and help our people to the river!” He then rode for the gate, his three companions right behind him. Kaliel and Zanka went for the command center, while Ayama and Ghost rode for the part of town where the dead had been kept during the siege.
They all met later than day, near dusk. They sat in Kaliel’s command tent, in the center of a sprawling encampment. Ayama’s face was solemn.
“I have examined the bodies that have reanimated,” she said. “And they bear signs of an unusual contagion. It is a dual affliction. The first component is a fairly typical plague, much as is spread by normal rats. But the second element, which rides upon the first like a mount, is more unusual. It is supernatural in origin, that much I can say, and it some superficial ways bears resemblance to what I have read about the Great Contagion, though with nowhere near that potency. It is this second affliction that causes the dead to rise.”
“Can it be treated?” Kaliel asked.
Ayamna shook her head. “I am not certain. First we will have to examine your people, to see how many are afflicted. I already have your healers and surgeons working on identifying those with the disease, and moving them out of the camp. So far, I estimate that perhaps a tenth of your people are afflicted. The symptoms of the plague can be treated, and life extended… but I can only cure one at a time with my gifts, and that is far too slow. I have had experience in such matters.” Ayama’s face suddenly had a haunted, pained look, one she quickly covered over. “And I must reserves some of my strength to deal with those who die; their bodies will need to be consumed by the power of the Unconquered Sun to prevent them from rising. A cure must be found… but no medicine that I know will accomplish this.”
“A tenth of my people would be nearly two thousand,” Kaliel said. “I will put the Knights at your disposal to help with moving people into the city for quarantine. Most of them did not eat rats and so should remain healthy for now.”
Ayama turned to Zanka. “I need you to talk to the people, tell them what is happening and keep them calm and cooperative.” Zanka nodded at this request.
“I will go and speak to Blizzard That Topples the Oak,” Kaliel said. “My people will need to hunt and forage heavily to replenish our supplies. And I am hoping he can help to remove the rats from the city; otherwise we will not be able to return home.”
“I will ride northwest with a few of your scouts,” Ghost said. “The dead came from that direction – it may help to know where they originated.”
There was little sleep to be had that night. While Ayama worked with the healers and Zanka spoke to the people to reassure them, Ghost was preparing to set out in the morning. Kaliel, meanwhile, walked out into the forest, to a clearing on a small rise. A figure awaited him there.
“I see you have dealt with the dead,” Blizzard That Topples the Oak said. “But why are your people encamped in my forest?”
“A plague has arisen in the city,” Kaliel said. “One with magical properties. It causes those who die from it to rise as the dead. The plague was spread by rats within the city. I have come to ask for your assistance in dealing with this plague. I would not wish it to spread beyond the city walls.”
Blizzard was silent for a moment. “I will speak to the scavenger spirits in my lands, and ask them to direct their charges to hunt within your city, rather than pick over the corpses on the battlefield. I can also have spirits guide your healers to medicinal herbs.” The spirit was silent for a moment. “And I have recently become aware of an old cache from the First Age located not far from here. I will send a guide to you in the morning.”
“Your aid is most appreciated, spirit,” Kaliel said. “I will inform my people.”
It was not until Kaliel was halfway back to the camp that he realized that Blizzard That Topples the Oak had made no threats, no demands, and offered no bargains for his services. He wondered at this for a moment, until he recalled that the spirit would have witnessed the morning’s battle, and seen him fighting alongside three Solar companions.
Many hours of the night had passed before Ayama permitted herself to return to her tent for some rest. She had given directions to the herbalists and hedge witches in town, getting them to prepare reagents and gather materials, and had overseen the final examinations and quarantines. She had also personally overseen the burning of over fifty bodies. She had wanted to do more, but she felt drained, and she knew well that exhaustion could lead to errors in procedure or judgment.
She slept deeply, without dreams, which was something of a relief to her. Dealing with the plague in Chrysanthemum had brought back too many memories for her, memories of the plague in Petgrana that had claimed so many of her friends, including her husband, her daughter, and her mentor, and had nearly killed her as well. But Ayama had been saved by a miracle, by a blessing from the Unconquered Sun. This time, she feared there would be no such miracle forthcoming.
At some point, she became aware of a presence in her tent, a strong musk smell permeating the air. Opening her eyes, she came face to face with an enormous badger, the size of a pony, sitting next to her.
Slowly, Ayama sat up. The badger snuffled at her.
She drew on her reserves of Essence to give herself the power to communicate with beasts. “Greetings,” she chattered at it.
“That is not necessary,” the badger replied in the Old Tongue.
“I see. Greetings, then, badger. What may I do for you?”
“I am your guide. Blizzard That Topples the Oak sent me here.”
Ayama puzzled at this for a moment. She was not aware what need she had for a guide.
“I will wait here while you get the others,” the badger said. “Obviously, it would not do for me to walk around this camp if plain view. I do not relish the idea of being speared.”
“Of course. I will return shortly.” She rose, and exited the tent, making her way to the large command tent where Kaliel was staying. On her way there, she noted that a large black cloud seemed to have descended upon the nearby city. Looking closer, she saw that it was a great flock of raitons, hovering over Chrysanthemum .
When she arrived, the guards let her in right away to wait in the tent’s central chamber, and soon Kaliel emerged.
“Kaliel, there is a very large badger in my tent. It spoke to me, and said it had been sent by Blizzard That Topples the Oak…”
“Ah, yes, the guide.”
“You knew of this?”
“I did not have the opportunity to inform you,” Kaliel admitted. “There was too much to do, and we were both busy. But the guide has been sent to help us locate a cache from the First Age that is nearby.”
Ayama frowned. “I hardly think that this is the time to pursue such things.”
“Blizzard believes that it is possible there could be medicinal knowledge stored there,” Kaliel said. “I felt it was worth checking the possibility.”
“Very well,” Ayama said, “there is little I will be able to do today in any case. Have you informed Ghost and Zanka?”
“Not yet. Zanka is likely still in her tent, and Ghost…” Kaliel frowned.
It was some time before all four of them had gathered in Ayama’s tent. A rider had to be sent to collect Ghost, who had left with the scouts early that morning. While waiting, Ayama had gone out into the forest and killed a squirrel, bringing it back to offer their guide. When she returned, she found that the badger had dug out her tea set, and was delicately holding a cup with his long, sharp claws. He still graciously accepted Ayama’s offering.
Soon they were all crowded into the tent with the enormous badger, with Zanka pointedly trying not to look at the blood and tufts of squirrel fur on his claws.
“I am Blem Lï Lo,” the badger said. “I have been instructed by Blizzard That Topples the Oak to take you to where the cache may be.”
“May be?” Kaliel asked.
“Blizzard cannot pinpoint exactly where it is. No doubt the cache is protected by sorcery that prevents this. But I am certain it can be found quickly once we are there. I will meet you one of your miles north of the city in an hour.” With that, Blem Lï Lo burrowed into the earth and vanished into a tunnel.
The four Solars rendezvoused with their guide at the appointed time and place. They were led further north, generally following the river, and journeyed for half a day before Blem Lï Lo stopped. The trees had thinned here, replaced by rolling hills. The badger pointed out four slightly larger hills.
“The cache is located beneath one of these four mounds,” he said. “But I have no way of knowing which one is the right one, nor do I know where the entrance would be found.”
“Based on what little I understand of geomancy,” Ayama said, “if the mound to the east is the cache, the entry should face the nearby river, and be placed about halfway up the slope. The western mound would face southeast, and be close to the bottom.”
“I think I understand,” Kaliel said. “Somehow, it makes sense. The northern mound’s entry would be near the top, correct? And the southern mound’s door would face north.”
“That is correct,” Ayama nodded. “You have good instincts for these matters.”
“I assume that none of us brought shovels?” Ghost asked.
“We can fashion tools from the trees and stones,” Ayama said. “I suggest we each take a hill and begin digging. I will take the west, Zanka can take the east, Kaliel the north and Ghost the south.”
“I am afraid that I am not much good at physical labor,” Zanka said.
“Blem Lï Lo can dig for you,” Ghost said. “Wouldn’t want to get dirt under your nails, you know.”
The digging took them long into the day, and progress was slow. Only the eastern mound was excavated with any speed, with the badger-god’s claws quickly breaking up the hard soil while Zanka sat and told him stories to entertain him. As sunset neared, Zanka was startled out of the tale she told by the sound of a metallic clang deep inside the hole.
Blem Lï Lo’s snout emerged. “I think I have found it,” he said. “Tell the others.”
By the time everyone had arrived, the hole had been dug out and expanded enough to allow everyone to crawl in. At the end of the tunnel was a large metal door, covered in glyphs and carvings. Ghost moved forward, igniting his Solar aura to give him enough light to see.
“These carvings look like the Old Tongue,” Ghost said. “Ayama, can you read it?”
Ayama squeezed past Ghost to examine the door. The glyphs carved into the surface were Old Realm, but had worn away over the centuries, and some were illegible. There were also four symbols in the door, one in each corner; a flower, a monkey, a snake, and a tower of light.
“I believe it says, ‘This is … workshop of Kal…. Trespassers will be… subject? to… per? No, pen… penalties, per the … something that lends in ‘lar’ and then another word… it’s obscured, but the only thing it could be is ‘Deliberative’.”
“…lar Deliberative?” Kaliel asked. “Could it be ‘Solar Deliberative’?”
“What is that?” Ghost asked.
“I am not certain,” Ayama admitted. “And not knowing that would make it difficult to know who would be considered a ‘trespasser’.”
“But none of this tells us how to get inside,” Kaliel said. “But those symbols… is it not odd that they are similar to our own anima totems? Perhaps this workshop belonged to one of us.”
Kaliel reached forward and touched the engraving of the flower. It immediately began to glow with a soft, golden light. The other three joined him, each touching their own totemic symbol; Ghost pressed the monkey, Ayama the snake, and Zanka the pillar of light. When all four symbols were glowing, a seam suddenly appeared in the center of the door, and it swung inward silently. The passage beyond revealed stairs going down.
“It seems your theory may be correct,” Ghost said.
They followed the stairs down until they came to another door, though this one was of the more ordinary type which slid aside. They could hear the river running overhead, though there was no sign that any water had leaked through, even after centuries. Opening the door, the beheld a huge room, perhaps thirty yards on a side. The walls were lined with shelves, which held all manner of liquids and reagents. A few large books could be found here and there. In the center of the room were several cauldrons, some of which still held large quantities of boiling liquids. There were many work benches and tables lined with many alchemical items. A series of chains and pulleys were hung from the ceiling, obviously to help lift the cauldrons or other heavy objects.
On the far side of the room, perched against the wall, was an object that stood nearly twelve feet in height, nearly as tall as the room itself. The statue appeared to be made of solid copper, and depicted the lower half of a spider married to the upper body and head of a woman.
“Copper Spiders,” Zanka said. “That is one of the names given to Solars of the Twilight Caste.”
“It makes sense that this person who ran this workshop was a Twilight,” Ayama said. “They were the practitioners of such arts. Perhaps this particular Twilight was a part of a Circle with our previous incarnations, and the symbols on the door are there as a way to allow us to enter even if he or she was not present.”
“So, we may once have known this ‘Kal…’ person?” Ghost asked.
At the mention of the name Kal, the eyes on the spider statue opened, revealing a baleful glow. In a mechanical voice, it spoke.
“Four humanoids. Identify.”
“Zanka Odokari,” the Eclipse said, looking up in trepidation.
“Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.”
“Ayama.”
“Kaliel, the Auric Lion.”
“Do you have written authorization from Kal Bax?” the automaton intoned. Zanka recognized the name; among students of the occult, the name of Kal Bax was still held in reverence, even though he was an Anathema – for it was Kal Bax who had first gleaned the secrets of constructing manses.
“He is not around to do so,” Zanka said smoothly. “But we were able to open the door to this workshop without force or subterfuge, which would suggest that Kal Bax is not opposed to our presence here.”
“You are trespassers. By order of the Solar Deliberative, you must be executed.” The spider climbed down off the wall, and advanced upon them. Its two human limbs flowed like quicksilver and reshaped themselves into long, scything blades.
“This is not the kind of song I had hoped to hear,” Kaliel said, hefting his axe. Zanka moved back swiftly and took shelter behind a large table.
Ayama ran over to a shelf and grabbed a few vials. She handed them to Ghost. “Acid,” she said.
The construct scuttled forward, the copper surface rippling slightly as though it were made of liquid. It suddenly arced its abdomen over its head, balancing on its blade-arms and forelegs, and sprayed a liquid out of a spinneret in the rear that hardened upon contact with air into a web-like net. Ayama and Ghost leapt out of the way, while Kaliel began swinging his axe around in a dazzling display, spinning it in the air and cutting through the strands before they could settle on him.
Ghost ran and leapt high into the air, landing on the construct’s back and running along its abdomen, which felt almost like running across a vast mound of thick pudding. He hurled the vial of acid at the spinnerets, but the sturdy glass did not shatter against the slightly pliable surface, and dropped to the ground, unbroken. Kaliel ran up and slashed at the spidery legs, hoping to topple it, but the construct pulled its limbs back to avoid his swings, and those that did land seemed barely able to penetrate the metallic surface. The construct slashed at Kaliel with an arm-blade, impacting against his heavy armor and leaving a red gash across his shoulder where the blade anaged to slip between two plates. It then lashed out with both arms at one, aiming for both Kaliel and Ghost. Ghost dropped down into the splits and arched backward until his head touched the floor; the blade scythed across his chest, shredding his shirt but skittering off the starmetal armor he wore underneath. Kaliel, conversely, simply stood his ground, and brought his axe up at an angle and deflected the arm down to the floor, bringing the point down into the vial of acid that Ghost had thrown. The vial shattered, and the bladed arm instantly dissolved away. The construct reared back as it pulled the stump back, leaving a sizzling hole in the stone floor.
Ayama had moved off to the side of the chamber, looking for the controls to the hoisting mechanisms she could see mounted in the ceiling. She passed by a bubbling cauldron and saw that it was filled with a molten metal of some kind. “Bring it this way!” she shouted, even as she looked for the lever to release the lock on the cauldron’s cradle.
Ghost had jumped up again and was now swinging from one of the chains mounted to the ceiling. He swung around a grabbed a vial similar to the one he’d thrown before. He attempted to swing up to the ceiling to hide within one of the many dark corners there, but the chain was not as long as he had thought, leaving him short of his target and exposed. Fortunately, the spider-construct’s attention was diverted by Zanka, who had emerged from her hiding place and picked up another vial of the acid. She hurled it at the construct, and this time the vial shattered, spraying acid all over the construct’s back. Gaping holes appeared in the liquid copper armor, revealing some of the inner workings of the beast. Kaliel tried to take advantage, swinging from a chain and dropping down on the construct’s back, but a lightning-fast swipe of its remaining forelimb batted him aside. The construct advanced on Kaliel, its bladed arm flasing back and forth as the Dawn moved his weapon back and forth to deflect every swing.
A boiling, hissing noise filled the room as a pool of hot metal spread over one side of the room. Ayama stood next to the cauldron, muscles straining as she grasped the handle and pulled it over. Her anima blazed as she poured essence into her body, protecting herself from the intense heat of the cauldron’s handle and the pool of metal at her feet. The metal flowed out onto the floor in front of the construct, putting a barrier in between it and Zanka.
Another vial of acid sailed over the lake of hot metal and shattered against the construct, dissolving the majority of its metal skin and exposing most of the inner workings. An amber boomerang slammed into the construct’s abdomen, sailing through one of the holes in its armor and emerging on the other side, trailing bits of broken machinery and fluids. The huge spider staggered and lost some control of the legs on one side.
Kaliel shouted to get Ayama’s attention. “Be ready!” he called out, as he grapsed a large hook on a chain suspended from the ceiling. Nodding, Ayama ran over to the geared wheels that controlled the hoists. Kaliel ran underneath the construct and hooked the chain into the framework in the abdomen, and Ayama grasped the lever and pulled as hard as she could. The construct was pulled up off its legs and swung forward into the pool of hot metal. The legs began to melt away as soon as it dropped, and it skittered and flailed about to escape, but it was still being suspended by the chain and could not gain traction. Its blade-arm swung overhead and sliced through the chain holding it, dropping it into the metal pool but giving it the chance to scramble out, though it had lost several feet of length on each leg.
Ghost, seeing the effectiveness of Kaliel and Ayama’s combined attack, motioned for Zanka to throw the next vial of acid high. Though puzzled, she complied, arcing the vial high over the construct’s body. Ghost pulled out another boomerang, though not one of his glass weapons, and hurled in at the vial, striking it in midair and causing the acid to spray over the entire construct. Strange fluids began to leak from its body, and acrid smoke arose as the acid began to eat through structural elements of the guardian’s frame. It staggered, and then slumped to one side, spasming as cables began to fray and joints sheared off. Kaliel stepped forward, axe raised.
“Kal Bax is gone,” he said, looking into the expressionless face, now scarred with acid. “As we once were.” He brought the axe down.
It took some time to go through the contents of the workshop, though it was sped up when Ayama came upon a manifest. Several of the vials were found to contain medicinal unguents and potions, and some working notes were discovered which gave them directions for brewing a potion which Ayama felt would be able to counteract the magical plague in Chrysanthemum. Zanka found records that confirmed her suspicions – the workshop itself had indeed been a manse at one time, aspected to water, though the geomantic architecture had degraded over the centuries to the point that it no longer focused the essence as it once had. Still, it was now clear why Kal Bax had chosen this place to conduct experiments relating to all manner of liquids – including the liquid metal in which he had encased his guardian.
It was Ghost who found an ancient, leather-bound tome hidden in a secret cache. He handed it to Ayama, as it was written in the Old Tongue; upon perusal, she declared it to be a basic treatise on Celestial sorcery, detailed enough that one could learn the rudiments of the craft. This tome was carefully packed away along with many vials of medicine.
“Is everyone all right?” called a voice from outside. Blem Lï Lo’s snout poked around the corner of the door at the top of the stairs. They could see that the badger-god was straining against some unseen barrier at the entrance to the workshop.
“We are well,” Ayama called out. “We will be out soon. I apologize for not keeping you informed of what was happening.”
“From what I could hear, you were preoccupied.”
Ayama turned to the others. “We should get these medicines to the city as soon as possible.”
Ghost frowned. “We may need to wait for a while.” He pointed at the intense, bright animas surrounding both himself and Kaliel; Ghost’s had manifested with the image of a cavorting spider monkey, while Kaliel’s had flared out into brilliant, fiery wings from which a rain of golden chrysanthemums fell. “Though your people know of our true nature, Kaliel, if we emerge from this chamber our auras will be visible for leagues away. We don’t know who else might be in the area.”
“If you wish to return quickly,” Blem Lï Lo offered, “I can take you now, and your companions can return when they are able.”
“Thank you,” Ayama said. She emerged from the earthen mound, laden with books, scrolls, and vials.
“Climb upon my back, as you would a horse, but keep your head down near my shoulders. And then hold your breath for as long as you are able.” As soon as Ayama had done this, the giant badger began digging. Within moments, they were both rocketing through the soil, travelling much faster than any horse could gallop. After a few minutes, Blem Lï Lo broke through the earth, allowing Ayama to take another breath before burrowing down again. They arrived just outside the walls of the city just as the moon was rising; barely half of an hour had passed.
Ayama turned and bowed. “I thank you. Not only have you sped my return, but you have given me a most remarkable experience.”
“This is what it is to be a remarkable person,” Blem Lï Lo answered.
۞
Weeks passed. A few dozen more people in the city died, but the cure was distributed quickly, and soon all trace of the illness had vanished. The raitons circling the city vanished, having gorged themselves on rats, and soon Kaliel was able to lead his people back into his city.
Ghost rode out with the scouts again, and it was two weeks before they returned. He told his companions of coming to a small shadowland, in the middle of nowhere, the apparent origin of the horde of dead that had attacked the city. Ghost could find no cause or reason for why this shadowland had come into being.
“There does not appear to be anything in the area which indicates any more threats will be emerging from there,” Ghost said. “Still, it may be worth investigating why this shadowland has suddenly appeared there.”
“That may have to wait,” said Kaliel.
“Why? What has happened?”
It was Zanka who answered. “While you were gone, we received an emissary… from Halta.” *
---------------------------------
* For those unfamiliar with the setting, Halta is a rather large nation in the same general region as Kaliel's city. This visit is important for two reasons; Halta has been engaged in an extended war with the Linowan Nation, which is another regional power which lies even closer to Chrysanthemum than Halta (and is also quite close to our new allies in Lagan) and more notably, Halta has recently allied itself with the forces of a known Solar general - Yurgen Kaneko, the Bull of the North.
I find myself unsure of exactly how much I should be explaining the various elements of the campaign setting. Since ENWorld is primarily a D&D-oriented site, I realized that the average reader will be less familiar with Exalted material than if I were posting this on a White Wolf forum. At the same time, I don't want to have my footnotes be as long as the story posts themselves (especially since I tend toward long story posts!).
I suppose that if any readers have questions about the setting or whatnot, they can ask and I'll answer - and I'll keep my footnotes to either explaining particularly quirky in-game events (such as Kaliel's uncanny ability to botch INT checks), or to explaining campaign elements that are critical to understanding what is going on (like knowing why Halta coming to visit is important).
In terms of reader knowledge, I've read the core rules through, but the info about surrounding regions was helpful in refreshing (quite a large world after all).
Keep up the good work!
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by roguerouge
It's only a cliche if it doesn't work. If it works, it's archetypal.
The arrival of the Haltan ambassador had caused quite a stir in Chrysanthemum. It was well known that Halta had allied with Yurgen Kaneko, the Bull of the North, and was currently at war with the Linowan Nation. Given that their own leader was also an Anathema, the people were understandable intrigued at being approached by this faraway kingdom. The fact that the ambassador was also a beastman was only a minor footnote; Kaliel’s people were accustomed to dealing with unusual people and events, and his race did little to influence their opinions one way or the other.
The ambassador, a snakeman named Three Certain Truths, approached Kaliel with what he termed a ‘token of good will’ from the Kingdom of Kalta; they would scale back their current offensive against the Linowans, which would in turn ease the pressure that the Linowans were placing on nearby lands. It was hoped, Three Certain Truths explained, that this would lead to future discussions between Halta and Chrysanthemum of more significant diplomatic arrangements. For his part, Kaliel played the gracious host, introducing the ambassador to his Circle as well as other officials in the town the Haltans could speak with if Kaliel was absent. After Three Certain Truths and his entourage left, Zanka noted that the snakeman had not seemed at all surprised to learn that there were four Solars in the city. They assumed that this information had been obtained by the Bull of the North, who was rumored to have access to powerful sorcery.
“If the Bull can find out that we are here,” Zanka observed, “then others can as well.”
Kaliel nodded. His own status as Anathema was no great secret; his Exaltation had been in full view of hundreds. Three factors had kept the Wyld Hunt away from Chrysanthemum’s gates so far: the city’s small size and relative isolation, the Realm’s own internal turmoil, and the greater threat presented by the Bull of the North. But while the Empire and the Immaculate Order might be able to ignore one Solar for a while, they could not ignore four.
“We should prepare to leave, then,” Kaliel stated. This news was received with glee by Ghost, who had long ago exhausted all of the diversions that the town offered, as well as those he had created for himself. Ayama was more reluctant, as there were still some recovering from the plague, but even she had to admit that they would recover just as well whether she was present or not.
“Where are we going?” Ghost asked.
“I would like to retrieve my sisters from the Tepet,” Kaliel said. Though he spoke little of the day of the betrayal that led to his Exaltation, they all knew that at the same time that his former mercenary band had been ambushed, forces from House Tepet had sacked his former home, the city of Kryptos, and carried off Kaliel’s two younger sisters. Whether the two events were related or coincidental had never been proven. Since then, Tepet’s legions had been broken by the Bull of the North, and the remainder of their armies had formed into the Vermilion Legion.
“From what I have heard,” Ghost said, “the Vermilion Legion is currently in the westernmost part of the South – in other words, as far from this corner of Creation as you can get. But if your sisters were taken as slaves, then they have probably been sold.”
“Not necessarily,” Zanka said. “Things are dire for House Tepet. Their armies have been humiliated, and they are under political attack on the Blessed Isle. Right now they are likely trying to consolidate their assets and look for any allies they can find.”
“Are you suggesting that they might try to use Kaliel’s sisters as a bargaining chip?” Ghost frowned. “I can hardly see bargaining with an Anathema to be a good idea for any Great House of the Realm.”
“They may only intend to use them as leverage to influence his actions,” Zanka replied.
“Either way,” Ghost smiled, “our best bet to find these two women is to track the Legions. They most likely sailed from Cherak; we can go there and inquire, to see if his sisters were with them when they set off.”
Ayama stepped into the conversation. “Kaliel, I would remind you that we have still not investigated the source of the zombies that descended on your town, nor the plague that followed. Ghost had tracked them to a small shadowland, had he not?”
“That is correct,” Ghost said, “a week’s ride to the northwest. The shadowland itself is only three, perhaps four miles across.”
“I would feel better knowing that no more threats to my people can emerge from this place,” Kaliel agreed. “We should ride there first.” Zanka paled a bit at this news.
“Cherak should only be a month’s ride from there,” Ghost said.
After seeing to a few last details – including sending Sergeant Brusk and half of the Knights of the Golden Flower to Lagan – the four Chosen were ready to depart. Kaliel had the foresight to secure some fetishes from Three Certain Truths that would announce them as friendly to the icewalker tribes that were allied with Yurgen Kaneko, which would aid their travels in the North.
Days later, they found themselves at the boundary of the shadowland that Ghost had found. They could all feel the sickening pull of the tainted Essence within. Ghost glanced at the early afternoon sky.
“If we wish to know more, we will have to journey inside.”
“No.” said Zanka flatly. “This is a place where the underworld has been drawn to Creation by some horrific act. I have no wish to know more.”
“I agree with Ghost,” Kaliel said. “We must try to learn what has caused this shadowland to emerge in such a remote area, and if anything inside poses a threat.”
“Do we know how long this place has existed, Kaliel?” Ayama asked.
“I cannot be certain. My people do not come out this far.”
“If you are going,” Zanka said, “you must be back before the sun touches the horizon, or else you may not come back.”
“Then we shall make our investigation quick,” said Ghost irritably, irked by Zanka’s timidity.
“Zanka,” Kaliel said, “We could use your knowledge of the occult to aid us in finding what we seek and then leaving.”
“You could use my knowledge of the occult right now to not go in at all!” she snapped back.
Ayama maneuvered her horse so it stood next to the Eclipse’s steed, and reached out to touch Zanka’s shoulder. “Zanka, if we do not try to find out what kind of threat this place still might hold, and we leave Chrysanthemum…”
“You are going to make me go with you, aren’t you?” Zanka said.
“You are Chosen by the Unconquered Sun,” Ghost said. “You are not meant to avoid problems.”
Zanka turned to Kaliel. “You are aware that this will only delay your chance to find Kassandra and Kalliope? Perhaps forever?”
“I am aware of the risk. Rescuing my sisters is important, but making sure they have a home to return to is important as well.”
They began to turn their horses and maneuver toward the boundary of the shadowland. Ghost fell back slightly and offered a bottle to Zanka. “Liquid courage,” he told her.
Physically crossing into the shadowland was no great physical challenge. Mentally, however, they found themselves assailed by morose, troublesome thoughts that plagued them and distracted them. Most of them were able to dismiss such thoughts, but Kaliel found his mind consumed with worry for his sisters, envisioning all manner of terrible fates. Thus when the four Solars reached the center of the corrupted land, he barely noticed.
They were in a large, open area, which even after several weeks still showed signs that it had once been occupied by a large horde of the walking dead. They could tell that the zombies had entered the shadowland from the north, and gathered here for a time before setting out southeast toward Chrysanthemum. It was Ayama who noticed a single set of tracks that led off to the northwest.
“Look at these,” she said, pointing as everyone gathered. “They were made by someone carrying a great weight, yet his gait suggests he was not unduly burdened. I would presume that this person is quite strong.”
“It is obvious that the zombies who gathered here were not created here,” Ghost said. “Nor would I assume their presence was the catalyst for the shadowland to exist. It seems to have been a rallying point for a pack of zombies that were heading south, and then redirected southeast. It is possible that the heavy object this individual was carrying away was brought here by the zombies.”
They followed the tracks to the northwestern edge of the shadowland, where they vanished without a trace at the very edge of the boundary.
“It appears that our quarry has ventured somewhere beyond the veil,” Ayama said.
“Then we will have to wait here until after the sun sets to follow him,” Kaliel affirmed.
“No!” Zanka protested. “We could be trapped forever in the underworld!”
“Only if we were mortal,” Ayama pointed out. “As beings that can control Essence, we are tied to Creation, and can avoid being pulled into the underworld at night. Much the same as a being tied to the underworld can avoid entering Creation at a shadowland’s edge, even in the daylight. So there is no guarantee that whoever this is crossed over at night, since it would not be unreasonable to assume that this could be a necromancer.”
Frowning, Zanka reached into a saddlebag and pulled out one of the tomes from Kal Bax’s workshop. “Now that you say that, I recall Kal Bax mentioning this very thing. He also pointed out that Solars lose their connection to Creation while in the underworld, and are cut off from the Essence. We would be diminished there.”
“It is no worse than when I was mortal,” Kaliel growled. “The Unconquered Sun did not reach down from Heaven to Exalt me so that I would choose to turn tail and run.”
“Neither did he reach down and bestow a suit of armor and a blade upon me,” Zanka retorted. She was shaking visibly.
“Let us also consider what we know,” Ghost said, “or rather, what we do not know. All we have ascertained is that this individual is strong, he or she likely has some ability to control the Essence of the underworld, and may have some power over the dead. This trail is weeks old at best, and leads through unknown and hostile territory. The Unconquered Sun did not Exalt us to run from battle, I agree, but he also did not Exalt us to rush headlong into an unknown situation that will likely lead to our deaths.” Ghost swept his arm around to encompass the Shadowland behind them. “We know that there is nothing present in this place now that will pose a threat to us or to Chrysanthemum. We also know that whatever it was that this person was carrying into the underworld, it was not your sisters. They are to be found elsewhere.”
“The attack on Chrysanthemum may have been nothing more than a diversion,” Ayama observed. “Perhaps after delivering the object they brought from the north, they were simply sent southeast toward civilized lands on a whim, to sow chaos and destruction with no clear goal. It may have even been meant to alarm nearby settlements enough that they would remain bound close to home, rather than riding out and possibly stumbling upon whatever they were planning.”
“Then perhaps,” Kaliel said, his hand resting atop the handle of his axe, “I should have an outrider sent out to trail these zombies back to their source, so that we may know at their true origins.”
Satisfied with the plan, the four Exalts exited the shadowland, and soon Ayama had made a bargain with a crow to carry a short message back to Chrysanthemum, containing Kaliel’s orders. That done, they spend the remainder of the day putting miles between themselves and the shadowland, much to Zanka’s relief.
As they rode, Ayama came up alongside the Eclipse. “You did well back there,” she said, putting her arms around Zanka’s shoulder. “It is right to be unnerved in such surroundings.” She smiled at the petite young Exalt, reminded of nights when she comforted her own beloved Dakarai. She and Zanka would have been about the same age…
Weeks of travel passed in relative peace. They made good time, stopping only occasionally in some small village to resupply and deliver news of the rest of Creation. Zanka plied her trade well, subtly weaving tales together that encouraged people to think for themselves and not accept blindly the teachings of the Immaculate Order. She also upheld their promise to the god known as Storyteller, spreading rumors of his vast knowledge and encouraging others to give him homage.
Only rarely was their travel interrupted by more pressing concerns. One village requested help in repelling a tribe of icewalkers who had been raiding their lands recently, as the village was too poor to pay them tribute. The defense of the village took only a single day. Another town had been stricken with a minor plague; Ayama was able to instruct the elders in the proper treatments, and move on.
Almost three weeks into their travels, they were climbing up a small rise among some rolling hills, when they spotted a plume of smoke rising in the distance, several miles ahead.
“A brush fire?” Ghost asked.
“No,” Kaliel said, “it is several small fires, in close proximity.”
Ayama had already spurred her horse into a trot, and was at a gallop by the time Ghost caught up with her, which was no mean feat considering the Nightbringer’s lack of skill with his own steed.
“Slow down!” he shouted at her.
“Have you ever seen a burn victim?” she shouted back, not slowing her pace.
“Ayama! That fire may have been set by raiders, who may still be there!” Ghost said. “At least let me go first to see what awaits us!”
“I do not fear raiders!”
“And what then, when you ride into town unarmored, your bare flesh deflecting blades and arrows as you glow like the sun? This is land loyal to the Realm!”
Ayama reined in reluctantly, seeing the wisdom in Ghost’s words even though her heart urged her to press on. She fell back to join the others as Ghost rode ahead, jumping off his horse a mile from the town to continue on foot. The land was relatively devoid of trees, but was dotted with brush and patches of long grass, allowing Ghost to approach unobserved.
It was a typical village, no more than a dozen buildings. All of them were ablaze, some already down to charred frames. The sickly sweet scent of charred flesh was overpowering. The center of town was dominated by a small Immaculate temple, which was also burning even though it was made of stone rather than wood. The doors had been barricaded from the outside, and Ghost could only imagine that the populace had been trapped inside and burned alive. Hanging from one of the stone columns in front of the temple was a charred corpse, the remnants of an Immaculate priest’s robes laying at its feet. Peering through the smoke and heat distortions, Ghost caught a glimpse of something gold on the priest’s chest.
He was about to move away when he heard a slight sound to his left, a slight sniffling. Moving in cautiously, he was surprised to come upon a young boy, no more than twelve years, who was huddled in a patch of weeds. He wore dirty rags for clothing and cloth bundles on his feet, and his skin was streaked with soot everywhere except for streak where tears had run down his cheeks, but he did not appear to be harmed. The boy was watching the fires burn, a mixture of terror and relief in his eyes.
“I wanted it to end,” he heard the boy whisper to himself, “but not like this.”
Slowly, Ghost backed away. His sudden appearance at the boy’s side would not help.
Ghost met up with the others when they had reached the spot where he’d left his horse. He appeared out from behind a bush, which startled them a bit.
“I am afraid there is nothing we can do for the villagers,” he said, mostly to Ayama. “However, there is a young boy at the edge of the village, hiding in a patch of weeds just this side of that rock protrusion there. I have marked a trail to him. He appears to have survived whatever happened, but I think that today was not the first day in his life that he has suffered. There is also the chance that he was more than just an observer to the attack.”
“I will go with you,” Zanka said to Ayama.
“And I will take Kaliel into the village,” Ghost said. “There is something there we must examine more closely.”
The four split up to tend to their tasks. Ayama and Zanka had no trouble finding the young boy, who had not moved. He startled when the two women approached, but paused when he saw that they did not mean him harm.
“You need to go away!” he whispered at them. “You need to go before they come back!”
“Before who comes back?” Ayama asked calmly.
“The Hunt!”
۞
“Look here,” Ghost said, pointing at the priest’s corpse. “This amulet is what I saw from back there.”
Kaliel reached out and grasped the medallion in a gauntleted hand, pulling it away along with a few bits of charred flesh. The heat of the fire had partially melted the golden pendant.
“Immaculate priests due not typically wear jewelry or other such adornments,” Ghost said. “But it is clear that this is something the priest wore when he was alive, not something that was placed upon him after his death.”
“The amulet bears an icon resembling the symbol of the Unconquered Sun,” Kaliel said. “Why would an Immaculate carry this?”
۞
“There were many of them,” the boy said. “Twenty, I think, led by a large man in black jade. He said our priest was not truly Immaculate, and everyone had to die because of it.”
“Did the man in black jade say that the priest was Anathema?” Zanka asked.
The boy shook his head. “No, not that. He used another word. It was… Illuminated.”
۞
“These people were forced into the temple and burned alive,” Ghost said. “The priest was left out here as a warning to others.”
“There is only one thing that is so brutally thorough when dealing with anything related to Anathema,” Kaliel said. “We need to find the women.”
۞
“Are you hurt?” Ayama asked.
“No worse than what they usually did to me,” the boy replied, a note of sullen anger creeping into his voice.
“That will no longer happen,” Ayama said. “Right now, we should leave.”
They stood just as Kaliel and Ghost came up to them, leading their horses. “The Wyld Hunt has been here,” Kaliel said. “They came for the priest, who bears a symbol of the Unconquered Sun.” The Dawn warrior tossed the half-melted emblem to Ayama, who caught it and studied the glyph.
“He was part of the Cult of the Illuminated,” Zanka explained. “A sect of the Immaculate Order, branded as heretical, that is awaiting the arrival of ‘The Shining Ones’, who will come to usher in an age of peace and harmony.” The Eclipse smiled. “One need not think hard as to who the ‘Shining Ones’ are.”
“V’neef Odaask spoke to me of this cult,” Ayama said. “As have others I have met. Those I have spoken to believe that there is some entity which is behind the Cult of the Illuminated, guiding their path.” Ayama mounted her horse, and then extended her hand to the young boy. He hesitated, but Ayama’s warm smile convinced him to climb up and sit behind her, his face buried in her tunic. They all turned and began heading back toward the trail to Cherak.
Kaliel looked at the boy, and then at the smoke rising from the village. “The Wyld Hunt,” he growled. “I am tempted to end their threat.”
“It would reveal us,” Zanka observed.
“Only if we left survivors.” Kaliel pointed to the west. “I saw the way they left. They are no more than two hours ahead of us.”
“No!” the boy cried out. “He is too strong!”
Ayama stopped her horse and turned in the saddle so she could see him. “Tell me about this man in black jade,” she said soothingly.
“He killed our monk with a single blow,” he said, tears dripping down his cheeks. “Even though the monk was a master of Water Dragon Style. He was tall, with blue eyes… he carried a long, black spear. His armor was not as heavy as his,” he pointed at Kaliel, “but he had claws on the left hand.”
Resplendent Ghost of Midnight paled. “That is Peleps Deled,” he said.
“Who is he?” Kaliel asked.
“The Grand Master of the Wyld Hunt, and one of the major powers in House Peleps. He is rumored to have killed multiple Anathema single-handed, and also to brook no deviation whatsoever from the teachings of the Immaculate Order. No doubt those twenty with him are highly trained soldiers and monks, and it would surprise me if some were not also Dragon-Bloods.”
“If you wish to pursue them,” Zanka said, “you have my support.” There was some surprise at this rare display of bravery, but they all well knew the particular hatred that Zanka had for the Order, after what they had done to her village.
Ghost shook his head. “I will not desert you,” he stated, “but I do not relish this fight. To some degree it is because I feel we are outmatched, but in truth the idea of wandering in the gods-forsaken North seeking battle after battle ill suits me. Matching blades with Peleps Deled in the snow does nothing to bring about my goals. Rescuing your sisters from House Tepet will.”
Kaliel turned to look at Ayama. “What say you?”
Ayama looked up at the sun overhead, gathering her thoughts. “There has already been so much death here,” she said. “While punishing the one who instigated this would feel… very good, does more blood solve the problem? Would it not be better to fight the philosophy that spawned this man? And what happens to this boy should we rush off to battle? I doubt Deled would spare him. I believe you should put your own house in order first, Kaliel, and then attend to the rest of Creation.”
“Her words have wisdom,” Zanka said after a moment’s thought. “As much as I would love to eradicate the Order’s teachings from Creation, we have other concerns. And even if we were to succeed in defeating Peleps Deled, it will not serve us to make a martyr of him.”
Kaliel looked off to the west, and sighed. “For the boy’s sake, and that of my kin, I will heed your advice. But one day, our paths will cross again, and on that day nothing will keep me from our destined meeting.”
The word came from his own lips, though his voice sounded different, more feminine. He felt different in his body as well – not strange, just different, as though he were wearing a new set of clothes in an unfamiliar style, but which had been tailored just for him.
He was looking down at the city laid out before him, the collection of simple buildings that comprised the city, or at least the poor, land-bound portion. He would start here, he knew, but the object of his search lay elsewhere.
“I will know what you are planning, Wind of Heaven,” he said to himself in his woman’s voice. He (though he was no longer certain that ‘he’ was correct) cast his gaze beyond Cherak’s slums, to the true city beyond the shore…
“Ghost?”
He blinked, and looked about, slightly disoriented. He looked for a moment at the ocean stretching out past Cherak’s docks, expecting for a split second to see… something.
Ayama stood next to him, a quizzical look on his face. “You have the look of someone lost in their own thoughts,” she commented.
“It is nothing,” he said. “A daydream.”
The five travelers stood atop a small rise, on the road leading down to the city of Cherak. The city spread out from the shore, sprawling out from the wall marking the boundary of the old city. From here, they could see that construction had begun on a new outer wall, nearly complete at the far edges of the city near the shore, and slowly arcing to meet in the middle. Perhaps a third of the wall had been completed.
“What do you know of this city?” Ayama asked. “I have heard only that it is known for smuggling.”
“It is a major port for the North,” Kaliel replied. “In particular for the Realm.” His attention was drawn toward the endless ocean beyond; though he had traveled widely in his life, he had never had the opportunity to see a true sea, and the sun dancing off the blue waves was mesmerizing to him.
“I would use stronger words than that,” Zanka said. “It is a true satrapy of the Empire, practically an extension of the Blessed Isle. The two major Great Houses in power here are the V’neef and the Ragara.”
“The Guild ships a great quantity of opium here,” Ghost added, “though the market is fairly tightly controlled. It is known that the Realm’s own merchants ship in qat to give to the workers as a portion of their pay.”
A look of disgust crossed Ayama’s face. “The use of drugs is unhealthy and vile.”
“But relatively harmless, considering the many alternatives that could be used,” Ghost pointed out. “I can see where your thoughts are heading, Ayama, and while I am not unsympathetic, I suggest we walk lightly here. Our intentions are not to remain in Cherak long.”
Ayama sighed. “Very well, though I will do what I can while we are here.” She turned to the young boy they had rescued from the village ravaged by the Wyld Hunt. “Remember, you are my nephew.” The boy, who they had dubbed ‘Luc’ when they learned that he had been given no name of his own, nodded in understanding. Luc had remained mostly under Ayama’s tutelage during their travels, though he also took instruction in martial arts from Kaliel. It was clear that the boy had led a hard life and had mostly fended for himself, fighting off other boys in the village. Thus he had some experience in unarmed combat, though it was undisciplined.
“Then let us head into the city,” Ghost said, “ so that we may start making inquiries as to who did or did not accompany the Vermillion Legion out of port.”
“Will these inquiries be best accomplished by coercion?” Kaliel asked.
“Simple questions will do, Kaliel,” admonished Zanka. “I suggest that you accompany me while I inquire among the legitimate merchants, while Ghost can check with the local smugglers to see if they know anything of Kalliope or Kassandra.”
They joined up to the main road leading to Cherak, and passed into the city with no troubles, passing by the minimal military waystation without incident. Once within the bounds of the city, however, they were held up along the road by a large caravan ahead navigating through a narrow section of road. While waiting, they noticed an ornate palanquin passing by, carried on the shoulders of eight burly slaves. As the palanquin came close to the four Solars, a woman’s hand appeared through the silk curtains, signaling a stop. The curtains parted, and Kaliel found himself face to face with a stunning woman, a courtesan whose physical beauty rivaled that of even Zanka.
The woman smiled serenely, but then turned her gaze to the man standing next to him. “Greetings, Chuzei Tendo,” she said to Ghost. “It is you, is it not, Tendo?”
Ghost beamed. “Correct as usual, Pearl. I would not have expected to see you here in the North.”
“Nor I you,” the courtesan replied. “You are far from home.”
“Much has happened since we last spoke.”
“I am sure. Tell me, who are your companions?”
Ghost blushed slightly. “Of course, forgive me.” He turned to the others. “This is Pearlescent Lotus Whispers, whom I know from my youth in Greyfalls. It was she who was most instrumental in my early education – far more so than my official tutors. Pearl, this is Ayama, a healer from the village of Petgrana, and her nephew, Luc. The young woman is Zanka Odokari, from the Northern tribes near Crystal. And this…”
“Kaliel,” he warrior said, stepping forward. “Protector of the city of Chrysanthemum and Captain of the Knights of the Golden Flower.”
“It is an honor to meet you all,” she said. “I am on my way to visit a client at the moment. Where are you staying?”
“Perhaps you could recommend an establishment?” Zanka asked.
“Then I suggest the Water Fire Inn,” Pearl said. “It is against the inner wall, to the west of this road. I advise that you move onto that smaller road there, and cut back at the first plaza. You will reach it much faster that way. I will join you this evening.”
“It would be pleasant to spend more time in your company, my lady,” Kaliel said, bowing.
Pearl smiled. “You have no idea.” The curtains closed, and the palanquin began moving again, soon vanishing behind them.
Ayama looked at Ghost. “My, what an interesting education you must have received under her tutelage.”
“Indeed,” Ghost answered, “Pearl was among the first to recognize my true calling in life.”
“As a thief, you mean,” Kaliel said.
“As one with talents in being in forbidden places and hearing forbidden things,” Ghost corrected. “In defense of her honor, however, I must make it clear that I have never engaged her in her professional capacity. Not that I never entertained the thought, but even I have some sense of propriety.”
“The relationship between master and student is only muddied by that type of fraternization,” Ayama observed.
“Or more likely he simply could not afford her services,” Zanka joked.
Ghost turned to face the Crowned Sun, and it was one of the rare times that he was not smiling. “I make no apologies for the manner in which I live my life,” he said. “But I will not be accused of being devoid of all morals. I have refrained from approaching either you or Ayama for intimate companionship since the day each of you declined my initial propositions, have I not? Or do you think I am merely biding my time for an opportunity to crawl under your skirts?”
“No one impugns your honor, Ghost,” Ayama said, stepping in. “Perhaps we only reflect that a woman as lovely and refined as Pearlescent Lotus Whispers would be nearly irresistible.”
“Indeed,” Kaliel agreed.
Ghost paused, then relaxed. “Well, you do not know how true that is until you have spoken with her further. Since we will be seeing her again this evening, I should make one thing clear to you all. When I mentioned that she was among the first to realize my true calling, I mean that in the fullest sense of the word.” He looked at everyone meaningfully.
“Then she knows you are a Solar,” Kaliel said.
Zanka reached up and placed her fingers on Kaliel’s lips, while Ayama and Ghost looked around to see if his words had carried. “Perhaps we ought to wait until we are alone to have this conversation,” Zanka suggested.
Kaliel shrugged. He was accustomed to his nature being public knowledge. Everyone in his city knew, of course, and his Exaltation had occurred during a battle in the Scavenger Lands, so many in that region knew his secret as well.
They arrived at the Water Fire Inn, a sturdy but respectable merchant-class inn which had been built directly against the inner wall. A sign bearing bisected emblems of the Elemental Dragons of Water and Fire identified it to travelers. They obtained two rooms to share between the men and women, not wanting to draw attention by displaying excessive wealth. They spent the afternoon acclimating themselves to the city, each pursuing the social venues they were most comfortable with. Kaliel learned that the outer wall under construction was being built as a precaution against the Bull of the North; though the Bull had not been seen in the region or indicated any interest in Cherak, the Realm’s satrap had decided to take no chances. Ghost made some initial contacts with the local underworld, Zanka learned the names of the most prominent nobles and officials in the city, and Ayama spent her time among the poor, and also went with Luc to the market to find him some more suitable clothing than the rags he wore.
When they returned to the Water Fire Inn, they found that a private dining room had already been prepared for them. They were each also offered a private bath before dining, a luxury of which each took advantage, even Luc, though he had to be persuaded somewhat by Ayama. Pearlescent Lotus Whispers was there to greet them at dinner when they were washed and dressed, and had ordered a fine feast consisting of local oceanic delicacies. Ghost sat next to his mentor, while Kaliel took the place opposite him on the courtesan’s other side. Ayama and Luc sat across from each other as well, and Zanka took the end of the table opposite Pearl. Ayama noted that throughout the evening, Luc had great difficulty determining where to rest his gaze.
“What brings you to Cherak, young Ghost?” Pearl asked as they sipped tea from gilded porcelain cups. “The last I had heard of you, you were involved in some negotiations in Lynnisbrook, were you not?”
“Kaliel has brought us here,” the Night Caste replied, “or rather, his sisters. They were taken in a raid on his home city by the Tepet Legions, before they retreated from the North. Since they sailed from Cherak, we have come to try and pick up their trail.”
“I see,” Pearl said. “The Roseblack is well known for maintaining strict discipline among her soldiers, and with the condition the Legions were in when they left, I presume that any ‘extra passengers’ would have been highly discouraged. Thus captives would have been sold as slaves before they left.” She turned and rested her hand upon Kaliel’s arm. “How long ago did this occur, Lightbringer?”
Kaliel paused at Pearl’s touch. “A little over a year ago,” he said to her.
The courtesan paused to sip her tea. “I would advise looking into the business records of House V’neef here in Cherak over the past two years,” she said at last. “I believe you will find them enlightening.”
At the end of the table, Luc suddenly flinched, as though he’d been nodding off and awoken, though Ayama knew he’d been awake and attentive the entire time. He then looked down at his lap, his face slightly reddened.
“Thank you for the advice,” Ghost said. “That sounds like a matter which Zanka would be most qualified to pursue. I intend to approach the smugglers tomorrow.”
The six of them exchanges small talk and pleasantries for the remainder of the evening. As they enjoyed their desserts, Pearl warned them that there were known to be two Wyld Hunts in the area.
“I would advise caution,” she said.
“I believe confronting a Wyld Hunt would be refreshing,” Kaliel replied.
“One of them is led by Peleps Deled himself.”
“We know. We have seen his handiwork. All the more reason to end him.”
“You will die,” Pearl said. “As will anyone with you.”
“Perhaps.”
“There is no ‘perhaps’,” she said, a hint of sternness in her tone. “In a year or two, there may be room for some optimism in that regard, but not at the present. Save your righteous fury.” She took a delicate bite of her pastry. “At any rate, Deled has not been seen near Cherak for nearly a season. The other Wyld Hunt active in the region is not nearly so experienced. They have mostly concentrated their efforts on hunting Lunar Exalts, who have been seen with increasing frequency in the area. Their methods are… crude, relatively speaking, and they were involved in a rather unfortunate incident in the city not long ago which has not endeared them with the common people. They have apparently not been taught discretion in regard to manifesting their elemental animas in populated areas.” *
“We will heed your warnings,” Ayama said to her. “We do not plan to remain in this city long regardless.”
“Of course,” Pearl said, as she rose. “I am afraid I must take my leave now. It was wonderful to meet you all, and hopefully our paths will cross again. It was good to see you again, Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.”
He bowed. “And you, Pearlescent Lotus Whispers.”
“Do you require an escort home?” Kaliel asked.
“I thank you, but I must decline. I have a business engagement to attend.”
“Perhaps another time.”
Pearl smiled, and then walked gracefully out of the room. After she left, Ayama turned to Luc.
“During the meal, I noted that something disturbed you. What was it?”
Initially Luc protested, and tried to explain it as a slight gaffe on his part. But under the Zenith’s persistent gaze, he finally relented.
“She gave me a note,” he said, pulling a small folded square of parchment from a pocket of his tunic. The symbol of the Cult of the Illuminated was drawn on the outside.
“She gave this to you?” Ayama asked, taking the note from his hand. She knew that Luc could not read, and so she opened the parchment up. Inside was only one sentence - It is not time to go to the Blessed Isle. Ayama informed the others of the contents of the message, though she was as unclear as the others as to the intent. Ghost mentioned that he often found the courtesan to be far more knowledgeable about matters than he would expect, and that he trusted her.
“How did she give that to you in the middle of dinner?” Zanka asked. “You were across the table from her.”
Luc’s face reddened again. “She has nimble toes.”
-------------------------------
* All Exalted emit a visible aura as they spend Essence to use their powers. At the highest levels, Solar animas manifest as a totemic image; Ghost's is a spider monkey, Kaliel's is a pair of golden wings raining chrysanthemums, etc. Regardless of the form, Solar animas are harmless. Terrestrial Exalts (or Dragon-Bloods), on the other hand, do not manifest totemic images, but their animas are manifestations of one of the five elements, and at the highest levels these animas actually cause damage to the surroundings. What Pearl is referring to here is that the Wyld Hunt in question likely became involved in a serious battle inside the city, and their animas ended up killing a number of civilians in the area.
The remainder of the evening passed quietly. Ghost left to inquire after a reputable bordello for the evening, and on this occasion was accompanied by Kaliel. Luc also expressed a desire to go along, but was denied by Ayama, who would not relent even when Ghost assured her that he would make sure the boy’s companion was healthy. The young orphan took out his frustrations by vigorously practicing martial arts in his room, which Ayama allowed him to do unsupervised for a while before she stepped in to channel his excess energy in a more disciplined manner. After several katas and maneuvers, Luc asked Ayama to teach him how to read, a task which she took to with enthusiasm, to the point that both were awake until sunrise. She was pleased to see that the boy was a fast learner.
In the morning, Ghost went to speak to the smugglers and slave merchants in the city, while Zanka and Kaliel went into the inner city to look into House V’Neef’s affairs. They had decided to approach the matter with as much of the truth as they could manage; that Kaliel was looking for his sisters, who had been captured in a House Tepet raid, and he was interested in purchasing them back. He explained to the minor officials that first approached them that he had retained Zanka as his advocate to help him navigate the complex bureaucracy of the Realm. It took several hours and a good portion of Kaliel’s coin, but at last they were given an audience with V’neef Tase, a Wood-Aspected Exalt and the factor of House V’neef in Cherak.
“You were wise to come to us,” Tase said to them, sitting with Zanka and Kaliel at a small table in his offices. A light lunch had been brought up for the three of them. “When House Tepet arrived in the city, they sold all of their captives to my own House, since their departure was to be somewhat hasty. We have since, of course, resold those captives.”
“This is to be expected,” Zanka said. “I have already explained to my client that we will likely need to examine your records for the period of time in question, and then inquire with whoever purchased his siblings.”
“If you could provide names and a description of your sisters, sir, I am sure my secretary can help procure the documents you require.”
Kaliel gave the factor the information, which was dutifully recorded by a scribe standing nearby, and then sent off for processing. While they waited, Tase conversed with them, asking a few probing questions as to the true nature of their business in the city. This was where the decision to present the truth came to benefit them, for there was no ulterior motive for the factor to discover. Finally, when a stack of parchment several inches tall arrived, Tase stood.
“I have other duties to attend to,” he said. “I will come to check on your progress later, if you will excuse me.”
After an hour, Zanka looked up from the stack. “The descriptions of these women are similar to that of Kalliope and Kassandra, but none are an exact match. They were not sold to the V’neef.” When the factor returned, Zanka presented this fact to him.
“Did House Tepet keep any of their captives?” Kaliel asked.
“No, they were all sold to us. The ships that sailed out of our harbors contained Tepet soldiers only. In turn, we have sold all of the captives that Tepet brought with them.”
“Then why are there no records of my sisters here?” he demanded.
“Perhaps they never made it to Cherak at all,” V’Neef Tase explained. “There is a certain amount of loss expected on any slave caravan.”
“Unlikely.”
“I realize it is not a conclusion you wish to hear, but it is a possibility.”
“May we talk to some of the other slaves from this sale, to see if they remember my client’s sisters?” Zanka asked.
“You have the bills of sale in front of you,” Tase said. “You may negotiate with the owners for that privilege. Many were purchased by households here in the city.”
“And these are all the bills of sale?” Zanka asked.
“Of course.”
Zanka frowned slightly. She had used her Solar abilities to listen to the factor’s replies, trying to discern any deception. But his words only imparted his loyalty to his House and desire to protect their interests in the city, and did not indicate a particular attempt at evasion. She then tried to impart the tragedy of Kaliel’s plight to V’neef Tase, hoping to move him into looking into the matter further. But he maintained his stoic attitude, though he expressed sorrow at Kaliel’s loss, and maintained there was nothing more he could do.
They returned to the Water Fire Inn, dejected. Ayama and Luc were waiting in the common room for them; Ayama wore a slightly confused expression, while Luc beamed with eager anticipation.
“That was a waste of our time,” growled Kaliel.
“No it wasn’t!” cried Luc.
“Excuse me?” Kaliel turned to Ayama. “What is the boy talking about?”
“I do not know,” she admitted. “He will not tell me. He only said he wanted to wait for you to return. I was out this morning tending to a handful of heroin addicts I found in the slums. When I returned at midday, I found Luc gone, and he had left this with the innkeeper.” She passed Zanka a crudely-written note, which after some effort she was able to interpret as saying ‘Gone to help Zanka and Kaliel, be back later.’
“He was returning from the V’neef district as I went to find him,” she explained. “And you now know as much as I do.”
“I still do not understand why you insist our efforts with House V’neef were not wasted,” Kaliel said. “We found no useful information.”
“You didn’t,” Luc said, “but I did!” He pulled a sheaf of papers from his tunic and laid them on the table. “While the two of you had the factor and his staff busy, I was able to get inside the records room. Because of what Ayama taught me last night, I knew which words to look for.”
Zanka, who had already picked up the papers, handed them to Kaliel. “The boy is right,” she said. “This is what you seek.”
The documents detailed a transfer of political prisoners from House Tepet to House V’neef; among those listed were two women who matched exactly the description of Kaliel’s two sisters. It was now clear why no records had been found of them among the sale of captured slaves; they had never been considered as either captives or slaves. Other papers gave details about the arrangements that had been made for the two women; they had been moved to a country estate controlled by House V’neef on the northern shore of the Blessed Isle. The documents detailed the care provided to the prisoners, including access to physicians and tutors, but also documented that the estate garrisoned a talon of House soldiers, and that a pair of Dragon-Bloods had been assigned as personal bodyguards to the sisters.
“This does confirm our suspicions,” Ayama said. “They intend to use your sisters as leverage. Which means that they are aware of what you are, Kaliel, otherwise there is no purpose to holding them.”
“The factor was asking a great number of questions about the reasons I was there,” Kaliel said. “If he connects Kassandra and Kalliope to me, they will bring the Wyld Hunt.”
“I find that improbable,” Zanka said. “The questions V’Neef Tase was asking are typical for a man of his position to ask. There was nothing to indicate he saw anything more than what we presented to him. The possibility does exist that the factor could choose to look into the matter further and learn the truth, but more likely he has already dismissed the entire thing as a waste of his valuable time. Someone at his level in the House would not normally deal with requests such as ours.”
“I think it is unlikely they will call the Hunt on you,” Ayama said. “If they want to strike some sort of bargain with you, they will not want you dead. What I find more intriguing about this entire situation is that it seems Ghost’s mentor was aware of where your search would lead before any of us. Did Pearl not send us a message warning us not to go to the Blessed Isle?”
“That is true,” Kaliel admitted, “but I am not certain that I can heed her advice in this matter. I know where they are now, which gives me a target.”
“It would be almost certain death for you,” Ayama said. “And an action I cannot support. Your sisters are currently safe and well cared for, even if they are in the hands of your enemy. For us to initiate a bloody assault on the Isle to retrieve them goes against all I stand for.”
“It may be wiser to wait and see what the V’neef want from you,” Zanka said. “Given that dealing with an Anathema entails a great risk for them, it may be that the price they set for the freedom of your sisters will not be too onerous.”
Talk of Kaliel’s sisters continued through the afternoon, fading for a while but renewing when Ghost finally returned to the inn; having been unsuccessful in his inquiries among the smugglers, he stated he’d spent the remainder of the afternoon in the high-class districts of the inner city. He listened to the story with interest, and though was tempted by Kaliel’s attempts to talk him into attempting to steal two political prisoners from the Blessed Isle, he ultimately decided that too little was known to make the attempt now. Ghosts showed more interest in the tales of Luc’s efforts to help.
“Ayama,” he said after a while, “I would like to borrow your young charge for the evening.” He smiled. “I promise I will not ply him with wine or women.”
The Zenith grudgingly consented, and the two set out for the night. They did not return for many hours; Ayama was waiting when they opened the door of the Water Fire Inn.
“He is rough, but shows promise,” was all that Ghost said, as he went upstairs to turn in. Luc also retired for the evening, but was awoken by Ayama at dawn for martial arts training. Mercifully, he was allowed to rest in the afternoon, as he was taken out into the city again by Ghost that evening. Kaliel spent the day down by the shore, inquiring about ocean-worthy vessels, while Zanka made the circuit of teahouses and reputable taverns.
Ghost and Luc returned well past the middle of the night, and quietly roused everyone. “I believe we should plan to depart soon,” Ghost said.
“How soon?” Zanka asked irritably.
“Right now would be good,” Luc said, a little too quickly.
“Do we want to know?” Ayama asked.
“Of course you want to know!” Ghost beamed. “After we have left, of course.”
They all rose and made their preparations. Kaliel was the last to arrive downstairs, having strapped on his armor. They settled the bill, and then rode east along the main road. Luc, riding behind Ayama, kept looking backward.
“They will not even notice until sunrise,” Ghost assured him.
“What did you do?” Ayama asked sternly.
“Nothing that put Luc at risk,” Ghost assured her. “He was only a lookout. There was no real trouble. Well, a few Dragon-Blood guards, and some wards, but that is all. Oh, there was the bound demon as well. That was a new experience for me.”
The conversation was interrupted as they reached the outskirts of Cherak, in the slums area. Off to their left, they heard the sounds of a street fight. This in itself was not remarkable, for they had been told that gang fights were common in the city. However, just as the sounds began to die down, they saw a brilliant flash of silver-white light fill the streets and alleys from the same direction.
Kaliel had already leapt from his horse, and pulled his axe free as he ran.
They came into a wide alleyway, eight or perhaps ten feet in width, with two-story stone buildings to either side. Several figures moved within the alley, stepping over the corpses of those who had already fallen. Closest to the Solars was a man in articulated white jade plate armor, wielding a tetsubo also made of white jade. His bearing was similar to that of the Earth Immaculate monk Ground Ripple, who they had encountered in Lynnisbrook, but this was another member of that order. Further down the alley, perched upon low balconies on either side, were two archers in green jade armor and holding power bows.
The figure in the center of the alley was the one that drew everyone's gaze, however, for it seemed to be what anyone else would describe as a monster. It stood about six feet in height, standing upon two legs but covered in fine, dark hair. Its face was elongated, and small, sharp claws protruded from its fingers. A brilliant silver-white disc stood out from its forehead, and the sky above was filled with the ephemeral image of a silvery mongoose, leaping about and baring sharp teeth as it did battle with a multiple-headed hydra. A dozen arrow shafts lay on the ground at its feet, shattered as though they had been fired against a stone wall, and the Wood-Aspected archer on the right sported deep slashes across his face. However, the other bodies in the alley either had arrows protruding from their skulls or had their throats opened up by a sharp blade of some sort, and the Lunar was heavily wounded itself, to the point that they all marveled that it was still standing.
As they watched, the scarred archer fired at the Lunar, the arrow blazing with emerald-tinged Essence. Snarling, it raked claws through the air, shredding the arrow mid-flight. The other archer took aim as well, but his shot was fouled when a boomerang whirled through the air, slicing his bowstring in half.
“More of your followers, Anathema?” the Wood Immaculate called out, as he retrieved a spare string. “They will die as well!”
The Earth Immaculate turned, and seeing the newcomers, frowned. He swung his tetsubo around and connected with the building just behind him, striking it so hard the ground shook. The building immediately collapsed, sending rubble spilling into the alley and cutting off the four Solars from the battle.
Ayama began to move to climb over the rubble, but a movement above caught her eye. She peered into the pre-dawn gloom, and for a moment saw the dusty haze on the roof to her left part just enough to reveal another Immaculate in a blue jade breastplate, holding a chakram of the same material. Before she could call out a warning or act, however, the Air Immaculate had thrown the chakram, which split into four Essence-fueled copies, one for each new combatant. Ghost was able to spot the attack at the last moment, and tried to flip out of the way, but was still sliced across the arm. Ayama dove for Zanka and pulled her back, taking two glancing strikes from the chakram, while Kaliel’s armor protected him from most of the damage.
Blood dripping from his wound, Ghost moved to the rooftop, leapfrogging between the two walls and alighting behind a pile of refuse. Looking around, he tried to determine the source of the blue chakrams, but saw nothing. Instead, he leapt across the rooftops, somersaulting in midair as he threw his boomerangs at the archer who had just restrung his bow, even as the Wood Aspected archer fired at him. The Immaculate screamed as the sharpened Chiaroscuro glass bit deep into his shoulder, while Ghost simply twisted in midair to avoid the arrow speeding at his chest.
The Lunar leapt at the second archer, landing atop the balcony and hurling the Wood Immaculate across the alleyway, where he slammed into the wall and then fell to the ground. Deprived of his primary opponent, the Earth Immaculate turned to face Kaliel, who had leapt up the pile of rubble and come sliding down the other side, riding atop a large chunk of masonry. Axe and tetsubo locked together with a resounding ring. But perhaps the most surprising thing to occur, at least to the Solars in the fight, was when Zanka suddenly ran forward into the battle, screaming curses against the Immaculate Order, and leapt up at the balcony where the Wood-Aspected archer still stood, pulling herself up to face him. As they struggled, however, the mongoose-like Lunar leapt from one balcony to the other, claws extended before him, and buried his hands deep into the Wood Immaculate’s chest, pinning him to the door behind him.
Ayama, who had been the only one to see the hidden Air Aspect, pulled one of the long wooden structural poles from the pile of rubble at her feet that had once been a building. Glancing down, she noted that the end of the structural pole was dark with blood, no doubt from an unsuspecting victim of the Earth Immaculate’s carelessness. She set aside her rising fury for the moment; first she had to deal with the unseen threat above. Ayama vaulted to the roof using the pole, landing a few feet from where she’d last seen the Air-Aspected warrior. She spotted him again just as he hurled the chakram at her chest, with an attack meant to knock the wind from her lungs. Steeling herself with Essence, the attack merely bounced off her solar plexus ineffectively. The chakram returned to the Air Immaculate’s hand, who looked at his opponent with consternation.
The scarred archer on the ground had risen to his feet in an eyeblink, and had fired an arrow at Kaliel, but the Dawn warrior saw the missile coming, and hooked the Earth Immaculate’s tetsubo with the back of his axe, so that the arrow impacted on the white jade weapon. He began to line up another shot, but was startled when Zanka suddenly dropped down on his shoulders from above, and tried to break his neck by clamping her legs on both sides of his head and twisting. He was only saved by his jade gorget, which prevented Zanka from maintaining pressure on his spine.
On the rooftop, Ayama raised her pole like a lance, and charged at the Air Immaculate. He moved to avoid the blow, but at the last second Ayama changed the angle of the pole, catching the jade chakram in the Dragon-Blood’s hand through its center, and pulling it free from his grasp. Her momentum carried her through to land a jaw-shattering kick on the Immaculate. The impact caused his concentration to waver, disrupting the Charm he was using to obscure his location. With his location exposed, the Wyld Huntsman turned and ran, jumping across a few rooftops before dropping into the streets below. Ayama looked around and saw Ghost on the opposite roof.
“Got it,” he said, and then turned and ran the opposite direction. He leapt up onto the end of a wooden pole that had been placed atop the roof to hold a clothes line. The pole bent nearly in half from his weight, and then sprang back, launching the Night Solar into the air, easily outpacing the fleeing Air Aspect.
In the alley below, Kaliel and the Earth Immaculate continued their deadly exchange, their weapons whistling through the air and connecting with blows that seemed to shake the ground. Kaliel felt the haft of his axe shivering with the impacts of the tetsubo, and he wondered how well it would hold up against the jade weapon. He reversed his grip after deflecting a blow aimed at his head, and brought it in low, attempting to split the Immaculate in half. Unable to bring his own weapon around in time, the Earth Aspect howled as the blade bit deep between two plates in his leg greaves. Small bits of stone began to whirl around the Immaculate as his anima flared in response to the Essence he was channeling, and his cry of pain turned into a scream of rage. He moved to attack again, but was held up as the Lunar suddenly leapt on his back, clawing and biting. The Lunar was unable to penetrate the white jade, but the Immaculate was unable to shake him off, keeping him from resuming his assault on Kaliel.
Nearby, Zanka was still clamped atop the thrashing Wood Immaculate. “Since you have blinded yourself to the truth,” she shouted, “you will live forever in darkness!” She then pulled out her war fans, still folded, and tried to jam them into his eyes. Unfortunately, her strike was deflected by the visor on his helmet, and the Immaculate finally managed to get a grip on Zanka’s arm. Before he could pull her off, however, he felt his arm being grabbed and twisted behind him. He cried in pain as he heard a popping noise from his elbow.
“My friend has not finished her lesson,” Ayama said to the archer, twisting his arm harder.
Some distance away, the Air-Aspected Huntsman ran down the street. His powers still obscured him from mortal sight, so his passage through those who were moving about in the early gloom was noted only as a strange gust of wind. Thinking himself safe, the Dragon-Blood was startled when an amber boomerang sailed just over his head, missing by inches. He looked back over his shoulder, just in time to see a second boomerang slash across his face. The Immaculate looked up and saw Ghost running along the edge of the rooftops above, extending a hand to catch his boomerangs as they circled around to him. The Huntsman grabbed a knife from the belt of a peasant in the street and threw it, but his aim was wide, and the blade sailed harmlessly away. Ghost continued to harry his fleeing quarry, until the Air Aspect ducked into a peasant’s hut. Grabbing a rope tied to the roof, Ghost swung down and dove through the same doorway, rolling into a defensive crouch in the middle of a pitch-black dwelling. The only sounds were those of the occupants, disturbed by two unwelcome visitors. Ghost focused his Essence, and light suddenly blazed from his caste mark, filling the hovel with a gold-violet light. At the same time, he grabbed a small sack of flour from the floor and tore it open, spreading its contents throughout the room. His eyes scanned the drifting flour, and when he saw some caught up in a strange whirling eddy in the corner, he let loose with his weapon. The Air Immaculate screamed as the boomerang bit into his leg.
The Earth Immaculate and the Lunar continued to grapple with each other, until a fortuitous twist caused the Lunar’s paws to slip on the blood-slicked white jade, and he fell backward. The tetsubo swung around, barely missing the Lunar and forcing him back. The Huntsman moved to press his advantage, but then felt a tap on his pauldron.
“He is not the threat here,” Kaliel said, as he came around with a bone-crushing swing of his axe. Reeling back, the Earth Aspect spat blood and squared off once again against his axe-wielding enemy, whose forehead was now starting to glow with the unholy symbol of the Forsaken. The Immaculate glanced over and saw that his fellow Huntsman had been pulled off his feet by the Anathema’s two female allies; the larger one held him while the small one leveled vicious kicks at his head. Fortunately, his green jade armor protected him from most of the blows, and he was using his Essence to heal himself, allowing him to finally throw off the larger woman. Unfortunately, the beast they had been tracking chose that moment to leap upon the Wood-Aspected archer, driving its claws underneath his breastplate. It withdrew its arms, red with blood up to the elbows, and holding great handfuls of the man’s entrails.
Realizing he now stood alone against four Anathema, the Earth-Aspected Huntsman shouted and suddenly charged at Kaliel, bringing his tetsubo down in a blurred arc. Unable to bring his axe around to parry in time, The studded weapon crashed into his shoulder, tearing into his flesh and grinding bones. Kaliel grunted as he was nearly forced to his knees, and just managed to stagger back out of range. The Immaculate charged again, but this time swung his weapon at the building just behind Kaliel, smashing it to rubble as he had with the dwelling on the other side of the alley. Rubble cascaded down, burying Kaliel up to his chest; he was barely able to raise his arms in time to keep them free. The Immaculate renewed his attack on the immobilized Solar, bringing his heavy tetsubo down to crush his skull. Kaliel was barely able to bring his axe up to block, and he winced as the force of the blow reverberated down his arms. He saw stress fractures open up on the haft of his axe, and knew his trusted weapon would not withstand much more punishment.
Inside the peasant dwelling, the Air Immaculate sprang from his position in the corner, diving at Ghost with his deadly fingertips pointed at the Night Caste’s solar plexus. Ghost grabbed a blanket off the bed and flung it into the air, obscuring the martial artist’s view enough that he was able to avoid the attack. Ghost somersaulted over the diving Dragon-Blood and twisted in mid-air, landing in the same corner that his opponent had just abandoned. His legs extended out perpendicular to his body, each foot gaining purchase on the wall and bracing Ghost in position. He threw both boomerangs at the same time toward the Air Aspect, who had just recovered from his own acrobatic maneuver. The Immaculate caught up the blanket that Ghost had just used, and attempted to repeat the Anathema’s obscuring tactic. The two weapons sliced neatly through the fabric, and severed both of the Immaculate’s arms at the shoulders. The blanket settled down over the Dragon-Blood’s head as his anima dissipated, and the body stood for a moment, the blanket quickly turning red on either side, before he collapsed.
Ghost quickly jumped down and gathered up the pieces of the corpse, bundling them in the blanket. Hefting the load on one shoulder, he turned to face the occupants of the hovel, who were all cowering in a corner. He knew that in the pre-dawn gloom, the light coming from his caste mark would have half-blinded them, so they would not have seen his face.
“The Wyld Hunt has been careless and irresponsible, and have brought harm to innocent mortals,” Ghost said. “They have been punished for their transgressions.” He tossed a handful of coins on the table, more than enough to cover the damages to the house, and then made his way to the door. He made sure to dampen his caste mark before emerging into the street, and quickly leaping back to the rooftops with the body of the Immaculate, and making his way back to his companions. He had no trouble marking their location, as he could still see the ethereal image of a mongoose battling a hydra in the sky, which had now been joined by the image of fiery wings spread across the sky, dropping a rain of golden chrysanthemum petals.
The Earth Immaculate attempted to move in to finish off the buried warrior, but was pulled back when the Lunar jumped on his back, scrabbling and clawing at his limbs with such speed that he could barely move. At the same time, Ayama suddenly appeared in front of him, her eyes dark with fury. “You callous, worthless worm!” she shouted at him, as she spat in his face and punched him. A short distance away, Zanka was still kicking at the eviscerated corpse of the Wood Aspected archer, her frenzied, bloody rampage still strangely graceful and dance-like.
Kaliel took advantage of the Earth Aspect’s distraction, hooking his axe onto the Immaculate’s tetsubo as he swung wildly to try and dislodge the Lunar. Gripping his axe tightly, he used the momentum of the Immaculate’s backswing to pull himself out of the pile of rubble, and once he was clear, renewed his own attacks, managing to get in a few solid blows. Ayama backed off her own assault, knowing she would not be able to penetrate the Immaculate’s heavy armor. Instead, her Zenith caste mark flared to life as she touched the frenzied Lunar and sent Essence flowing into him, easing the pain of his many wounds, and then administered the same care to Kaliel. Seeing what she was doing, the Immaculate roared and tried to aim a blow at Ayama’s head.
With a strange, ululating scream, Zanka suddenly ran into the melee and leapt at the Immaculate. Her war fans snapped open, and she sliced at the Dragon Blood’s wrists as she flew by. The razor sharp edges of the fan slipped into the thin joint where the jade gauntlets attached to the vambrace, and though the wound left was shallow, it caused the Huntsman’s hand to spasm. His white jade tetsubo spiraled out of his grasp, sailing over Kaliel’s head and landing several feet away. Seconds later, Ghost appeared on the rooftop, and jumped down to the alley. He kicked a wooden pole into his hands, and jumped at the Immaculate, jabbing and swinging with the makeshift staff. His attacks were hardly a threat to the heavily armored Huntsman, but wounding the Immaculate was not his goal.
The Dragon-Blood shook off the Lunar at last, and easily deflected a blow from Ghost’s staff on his forearm. He looked just past this newest foe, and for a moment was unable to make sense of what he was seeing, for it seemed that the large Anathema was swinging his axe directly at the back of the newcomer’s head. At the last possible moment, the man with the staff ducked away, bending at an improbable angle, and too late the Huntsman realized his error.
The axe bit deep, finally punching through the heavy jade and shattering ribs. Blood spurted from the lips of the Immaculate as he fell to his knees, and then toppled over stiffly.
The four Solars looked around, making sure no more enemies were appearing. “Quickly,” said Ghost, and he leapt back up to the rooftop to retrieve the body of the Air Immaculate. Kaliel walked over to where the jade tetsubo had landed, and lifted it to his shoulder – without the Essence of the Immaculate empowering it, the weapon was rendered to little more than a pillar of stone, weighing about as much as an average man. Zanka was sitting atop the body of the Earth Dragon Blood, jabbing him in the face and throat with chops and punches to make sure he was dead. Blood flew up and splattered on her already gore-stained clothing.
“You who have chosen to poison Creation with your lies!” she shouted at the body, “Know that our righteous vengeance shall descend upon you!”
Perturbed by Zanka’s uncharacteristic display of vitriol, Ayama turned to the one who had been the focus of all that had occurred. In the flickering sliver light surrounding them, she was not certain when he had changed, but instead of a bestial hybrid of man and mongoose, she saw a badly injured man dressed in mere scraps of clothing, kneeling on the ground, looking around with bewilderment at all that had occurred. She walked up and extended a hand, and when he reached out to grasp it, she pulled him up, kindly but firmly, and led him through the rubble strewn about.
They all heard a noise about the growing calls of alarm in the distance, and turned to see Luc steering a stolen wagon to just outside the alley, their horses having been hastily harnessed to it. The Chosen quickly piled the bodies of the Wyld Hunt into the wagon, and then covered the corpses and rode quickly out of the city. The brilliant auras surrounding both Kaliel and the mysterious Lunar died down, allowing them to escape without encountering more resistance.
۞
A day later, they sat huddled around a small fire, far from any settlement. The Lunar spoke.
“My name is Lenn,” he said to them. “I have lived in Cherak all my life. Many years ago, I grew weary of seeing my fellow men and women terrorized by the thugs and gangs that prey upon those who live in the slums. I took it upon myself to do what the Empire seemed unwilling to do – I patrolled the streets, and did what I could to stop the criminals. Soon I came across others who felt as I did, and we worked together to bring what justice we could to the poorest citizens. Last night, I and my companions were returning from our patrols of the worker’s district. That was when the Immaculate warriors attacked. Before I knew what was happening, my friends were all dead, shot with arrows or beheaded by blue discs. After that, all I saw was silver and red.” He looked at everyone at the fire. “What has happened to me?”
Ayama reached out and placed her hand atop his. “You have been Chosen, just as we have,” she said. “Exalted above mortals. We four have been Exalted by the Unconquered Sun, to act as avatars of His will in Creation. You, however, have been Chosen by the goddess Luna.” Ayama frowned. “Unfortunately, there is little more I can tell you about this. Much of the truth about us has been destroyed or hidden by the Dragon-Bloods, and so all we know of Lunars is based upon lies and propaganda.”
“Why was I Chosen?” Lenn asked.
“No one in Creation can answer that question,” Ayama said. “There is no way to know such things.”
“Then there is a problem,” Ghost said. He passed around a scrap of parchment. “I found this on the body of the Earth-Blood.”
The parchment was scrawled with a set of directions, as well as a date and time,written in High Realm. They all quickly realized that the message gave the exact time and location in Cherak that Lenn experienced his Exaltation.
“Unfortunately,” Ghost said, as he retrieved the parchment, “we cannot tell you much of what it means to be a Lunar Exalted. It would be best if we could send you to live among your own kind, but the Lunars are not easily found. For good reason, as you can see.”
“From what I recall of the old stories warning us against the Anathema,” Zanka said, “the legends spoke of the ‘beasts who walk like men’ who were driven off to the edges of Creation long ago.”
“Then perhaps the Lunars still gather where Creation meets the Wyld,” Kaliel said. “Perhaps we should go there.”
“My village is north of here, near Crystal,” Zanka said, “and that is not so very far from the northern edge of Creation.”
“I would suggest a different approach,” Ayama said. “My own village of Petgrana lies in the deep forests of the East, nearly due west of the Elemental Pole of Wood. It is clear that you possess some natural affinity toward the mongoose, which is a creature more at home in the East than in the North.”
“Truly, that is what the animal is called?” Lenn asked. “When I had… Exalted, I could see the image of this creature in my mind’s eye, feel its spirit – but I had never seen its like, and had no word to describe it.”
“In my village, I can promise you that you would be welcomed, and offered refuge. From there, you could explore the edges of the world and try and find more of your kin.”
“But until that day, you are welcome to remain with us,” Kaliel said. “We may know little of the ways of the Lunars, but we are familiar with being Exalted, and I think you will find our company more welcoming than that of the Immaculate Order.”
“Indeed,” Lenn said. “I will remain with you and journey to your village, Ayama. There is a town, about a hundred miles east of Cherak along the coast, called Crabber’s Bay. The harbor there is deep enough for large ships. I would suggest we go there, and find passage on a vessel that will carry us toward our destination.”
They set out early the next morning, taking time only to stake the bodies of the Wyld Hunt out on the road, much as the Illuminated priest had been left out in Luc’s village. Signs hung on the corpses gave warning to the Hunt and to Peleps Deled. They left their stolen cart on the road as well, and then set out.
They traveled for days along the coast, taking smaller trails to avoid traffic. At night, Lenn would experiment with his newly discovered powers, while Ayama observed the flow of his Essence. She was able to discern that while their own Solar Essence seemed able to enhance the skills and bring the Exalt closer to perfection in form and execution, the silvery Lunar Essence was more primal, and seemed to enhance Lenn’s physical prowess. He was already fairly skilled in unarmed combat, but when his Essence flowed he moved with inhuman strength and quickness. Zanka, who also observed Lenn’s experiments, was surprised to find that her own Essence seemed to respond to his, as if it were trying to mirror the unseen flows of power. After a while, Zanka began to feel as though she could train her own body to respond like Lenn’s, though she could not explain the source of this awareness, as none of her Solar companions described a similar experience.*
A few days into their journey, Kaliel suddenly looked at Ghost. “With all that has occurred,” he said, “I have neglected to ask you why it was we had need to leave Cherak at such an early hour.”
“Ah! I had almost forgotten!” Ghost pulled on his reins and moved his horse up next to Zanka, opening up his saddlebag as he did so. “Zanka, I believe you will be most appreciative of this,” he said. “You can wear it to the next formal event you attend.”
From the bag, Ghost produced a shimmering, sparkling stole. Upon close examination, they saw that the fabric was woven from moonsilver thread, and it was studded with white jade beads. Zanka’s eyes sparkled as brightly as the garment.
“I would advise that you not wear it at any event in Cherak, however,” Ghost cautioned, “nor to any event at which Ragara Mnemon Luana will be in attendance.”
“The wife of the lord of House Ragara in Cherak?” Lenn gasped. “That stole was her most prized possession!”
“Not any more,” Ghost grinned.
Later that same night, Ayama pulled Ghost aside, and led him some distance away from their encampment. “Ghost, I wish to speak of you about your mentor.”
“Of course.”
“Since we discovered the information the Wyld Hunt was carrying about Lenn, I have been… concerned. There should be no way for anyone in Creation to know when an Exaltation is going to take place. In our travels, I have met with astrologers, and attempted to have our fortunes read. Even the most skilled cannot discern our fate; our destinies are not written in the stars. The only person I have ever met who appears to have some knowledge of that which has not yet happened is your mentor, Pearlescent Lotus Whispers. Is it possible that she may be providing information to the Immaculate Order?”
Ghost frowned. “My first instinct would be to say no,” he said. “But I must admit I know little of her beyond the rare occasions when she would come to Greyfalls. Pearl travels widely and has dealings with a variety of people throughout Creation. Still, she has never spoken favorably to me of the Immaculate philosophies, though she does not overtly disparage them, either. It is more that she has always encouraged me to acts which reinforced my own poor opinion of the Philosophies. And it does appear that Pearl has some connection with this Cult of the Illuminated – if the Cult is considered heretical by the Order, why would someone associated with the Cult willingly aid the Wyld Hunt? Perhaps others possess the same talents as Pearl.”
“Then it seems that I must assume that she possesses some sort of sorcery capable of such foretellings,” Ayama said.
“Should we encounter Pearl again,” Ghost said, “I will ask her about it directly. Of course, she may opt not to answer – this has been the way of things between us when I ask things she is not willing to reveal.”
“I do not wish to cast aspersions upon her,” Ayama said. “She has been nothing but genial toward us so far. This is why I wished to speak to you privately – I feared that my questions might lead some of our companions to come to hasty conclusions.”
Eventually, the six travelers came to a crossroad. Stone markers indicated that the road leading off to the north would eventually arrive at Rubylak.
Kaliel reined in his mount, and turned. He now wore the white jade armor of the Immaculate, and his tetsubo sat comfortably upon his back. “My friends,” he said, “I must take my leave of you for a time. I must take this opportunity to return briefly to Chrysanthemum, and from there pay a visit to Lady Rinalta in Lagan, to see how their militia training progresses. I have entered into an alliance with Lagan, and I must see to it that our end of that bargain is being upheld. I will board a river barge from Lynnisbrook bound for Greyfalls, and rendezvous with you.”
“Follow the river four days east of Mist Island,” Ayama told him. “There will be a village along the south bank. I will leave word with the locals to expect you, and to provide you with a guide to Petgrana. I will also make certain that Sunlight Pierces the Canopy is aware of your imminent arrival.”
“The armor worn by the other Immaculates I will take to Chrysanthemum,” Kaliel said. “It could have future value. I suggest that you retain their weapons – they may become useful to you in your journey should you need to bargain with them.” He looked over his companions one last time. “Fare well,” he said, “and I will meet you in Petgrana.” With that, he turned his horse down the road, and went north toward his home.
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* Each type of Solar has a unique ability. In the case of the Eclipse, they may learn the magical Charms of Exalt types other than Solars, even those of deities, spirits, and other magical creatures. In this case, Zanka has learned a basic Dexterity-enhancing Lunar Charm known as an Excellency.
As a general rule, Solar Charms enhance learned abilities, like Melee, Bureaucracy, Craft, Performance, etc. Lunar Charms enhance raw Abilities; Strength, Stamina, Intelligence, etc.
Sorry the update's a little late; I've had some internet issues at home.
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Kaliel rode through the gates of the compound that Brusk had converted into a training camp. He saw activity everywhere; in the courtyard there were about fifty men and women drilling with spears, while across the way about a dozen held bows, and were shooting at straw dummies. He was pleased to see how hard Lynnisbrook’s citizens were working, but frowned slightly when he saw that none of the soldiers in training wore armor, and that their weapons seemed to be of less than optimal quality.
Brusk came to meet him as he dismounted, and the two clasped hands in greeting.
“You seem to have things well in hand here,” Kaliel said as they walked toward the barracks.
“As well as can be expected,” Brusk said. “They take to the training well, but we’ve had delays in getting proper equipment. It seems that the Guild is reluctant to do any major business in military equipment while they are investigating the death of their factor. For now they’re using sharpened sticks. How are things back home?”
“Things are well,” Kaliel said. “The rebuilding goes quickly. I am hoping that our efforts here might lead to some of these men signing on with the Knights. We could use some new blood. Speaking of which, I would like you to be on the lookout for any Outcaste Dragon-Blooded who show an interest in our company. If you assess them to be trustworthy, I have left some jade armor we recently acquired in the vaults of Chrysanthemum. They may be used as enticements.”
“I was going to ask about the new outfit, sir,” Brusk said, looking at Kaliel’s white jade armor.
“An Immaculate made a poor choice,” was Kaliel’s only reply.
They passed through the barracks toward the area reserved for officers, where Kaliel saw more familiar faces from among his own mercenaries. They arrived at the quarters that Brusk had taken for himself, where Kaliel settled into a wide chair as Brusk poured two glasses of the local whiskey into tin cups.
“Pardon me for saying so, sir,” Brusk said as he handed Kaliel the whiskey, “but I couldn’t help but notice that you do not stink to Yu-Shan.”
Kaliel smiled. “I arrived in Lynnisbrook yesterday. I felt it only proper to make contact with Lady Rinalta upon my arrival. A bath was strongly encouraged by her servants, and I admit was not unwelcome after a month on horseback.”
“I see. And I take it that you put an effort into strengthening the alliance between Lagan and Chrysanthemum?”
“Indeed. She was most enthusiastic about our negotiations, and I must say it seems she has been looking forward to engaging in that sort of diplomacy for some time.”
“I would say the same of you,” Brusk grinned. “I am somewhat surprised to hear you describe Lady Silver in that way. Did you not tell me that your companion Ghost knew her before you? I would have thought, given your descriptions of the man, that he would have handled those… negotiations himself.”
“As would I,” Kaliel admitted, “I find myself unable to fathom his restraint in this case. Rinalta is a beautiful and intelligent woman.”
“Enough talk of bedroom diplomacy,” Brusk said. “How long will you be staying?”
“Not long,” Kaliel admitted. “I must go to meet my companions, who are even now headed East on a ship to Ayama’s village. Tomorrow I will look for passage on a riverboat heading south.”
“In that case,” Brusk said, draining his cup, “there are matters to attend to. We have people working on producing some proper spearheads as fast as possible, but the lack of armor is still a concern. I have an idea, but it will require some assistance from the queen. There are quite a few people in this city who make their living as woodsmen – if they were charged with hunting as many large animals as possible, we could render their hides into serviceable armor.”
“Of course. But why not import hides from Chrysanthemum? The beasts of the North have thicker flesh than Eastern animals.”
Brusk frowned. “I was not aware our own reserves were that vast, sir, considering the recent siege and plague.”
“Send word to have someone approach Blizzard Topples the Oak,” Kaliel said. “The spring hunts will begin soon. Ask him to lure a herd of mammoth or yeddim into the area. Should he prove reluctant, tell him he may negotiate with me upon my return.”
“I understand, sir. I will send the message immediately.”
“You’ll need my seal,” Kaliel said, beginning to rise, but Brusk held up a hand to stay him.
“Already covered, sir.” He picked up a seal from the nearby desk and held it up. “Things need to get done, and you tend to leave frequently,” he said.
“Brusk, I find myself… oddly unsurprised.”
۞
The riverboat made landing at the small fishing village on the banks of the Meander River. As the crew began unloading supplies, five travelers walked down the gangplank, setting foot on solid ground.
“Thank the Unconquered Sun,” Ghost said, stretching. “I enjoyed the trip, but I look forward to solid earth under my feet again for a while.”
“We can stock up on supplies here,” Ayama said, “and make our way south. Petgrana is a week from the river.”
“Just please tell me it will not be so damned hot there,” Zanka complained. The Northerner, her pale skin glistening with sweat, had stripped herself down as much as she could without actually walking about in the nude. Her appearance had drawn many long looks from the sailors on the boat and the towns where they had stopped, and Ayama was certain that the crew had deliberately slowed their travel in order to prolong the time that the beautiful Eclipse would be on board. To be fair, both Lenn and Luc, also natives of the North, were uncomfortable in the Eastern climate, but neither drew quite the amount of attention that Zanka did.
Ghost and Ayama looked at each other. The late spring weather was temperate, at best. “We will see what we can do, Zanka,” Ayama said at last. “At the very least, the forest will be shaded, and breezes are common this time of year.”
“And perhaps we will hold off on planning a journey to Chiaroscuro,” Ghost joked. Zanka stuck out her tongue.
They set out into the forests the next morning, after being given a number of dire warnings against heading into the ‘Forbidden Forest’ and told how people went in and would never return. Ayama assured them that these warnings were typical, and for most would be worth heeding.
“Sunlight Pierces the Canopy is very protective of his territory,” the Zenith explained.
After a week of walking south into the forest, Ayama announced one day that they had crossed into the lands claimed by Sunlight Pierces the Canopy. Less than a half-hour later, a spot of dappled sunlight on the forest floor shimmered, and resolved itself into an elaborate mandala.
“So,” said a voice floating on the breeze, “my good and faithful servant has returned to take her rightful place at my side?”
“I have come back with guests,” Ayama said.
“More worshipers?” Sunlight Pierces the Canopy asked. They felt the spirit’s attention drift over all of them, and then settle on Zanka. “Or perhaps you bring me something more?”
“Whatever offer you wish to make, I am certain that Zanka can make those negotiations on her own behalf,” Ayama said. “For now, we merely wish to get to Petgrana.”
“It is probably good that you have brought friends,” Sunlight Pierces the Canopy said.
“What do you mean by that?” Ayama asked.
“You did not receive my message?” the spirit’s voice was perturbed. Ayama shook her head.
“You recall the barbarian tribes in the area? Those who have left us in peace for many years? It seems that recently they have had a change of heart. They have been quite persistent in trying to find your home – only the efforts of White Rocks Dancing have kept us ahead of their plans.”
“That is unfortunate,” Ayama said. She knew White Rocks Dancing was actually a collection of minor river spirits, whose course ran through several marble deposits further east before running close to Petgrana. The spirits had been good sources of information in the past, although the flow of communication was restricted to moving downstream.
“I will not impede your progress to Petgrana,” Sunlight Pierces the Canopy said. “Your son Rutendo can give you the details – and fill you in on other surprises as well.” A note of amusement crept into the spirit’s voice.
Behind the mandala, the undergrowth of the forest seemed to shift, revealing a clear path. Nodding, Ayama made her way past the spirit, followed by the others. Ghost was the last to pass by.
“Hello, Sunlight!” he said cheerfully. “Remember me?”
The mandala vanished, and there was a sudden rush of wind that kicked up leaves and dust as the spirit departed.
“He remembers.”
A few minutes later, as they walked along the path, an arrow suddenly sprouted from a tree trunk next to her head.
“Halt and identify yours… oh! Mistress Ayama!” Emerging from the forest nearby came about a half-dozen young men and women, wearing dark clothing patterned after the forest. Each held a bow and a quiver of arrows. None of them were adults, though most were only a year or two younger than Zanka.
“I’m sorry, Mistress!” the youth who had fired the arrow said. He knelt down in front of Ayama.
“I understand,” Ayama said, placing her hand on the boy’s head. “Sunlight Pierces the Canopy tells me you have every reason to be wary.” She looked at the group. “Do your parents know what you are doing?”
“Yes, Mistress,” the boy said. “This is where we were assigned to patrol. It’s not so bad here, because this is west of the town and they never come from this way, but still…”
“Of course.” Ayama removed her hand from the boy’s head and put it under his chin, lifting gently to prompt him to rise. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I will let you go about your task, then.”
“I will send two people to escort you to the town,” the boy said. Two of the younger children, a boy and girl, stepped forward and began walking along the trail ahead of the others.
They came upon Petgrana only a few minutes later, suddenly appearing in the midst of the thick forest. Ayama was surprised to see that the town was now surrounded by a wooden palisade wall. At a signal from their escorts, the gate opened, and they walked into the town of Petgrana. Rows of wooden longhouses were scattered all about the village, smoke rising from the chimneys of a few, and Ayama could see that two new longhouses had been built since she had left, and the communal lodge that served as Petgrana’s town hall and hospital bore the framework of a recently started expansion.
“I do not remember those from when I was here last,” Ghost said, looking up. Following his gaze, Ayama saw that several dwellings had been built in the trees above, connected by simple rope bridges.
“It is larger than I expected,” Zanka commented.
“Petgrana has never been small,” Ayama said. “It began as a logging encampment many years ago, before it was transformed into a community of healers.” She turned to the others. “We should go to the elder’s longhouse first. Then we can find my son.”
“Please tell me it is cooler in the elder’s longhouse,” Zanka said. Her platinum blonde hair hung in damp curls from her scalp.
Ayama frowned, and then turned to their young escorts. “Will one of you please take my friend to a place where she may sit quietly and cool off? She is from the North.”
“We will take her to the cold house,” the young girl said. Seeing Ayama’s questioning look, she added, “one of the shamans was able to trade for some ice-stones recently. We use them to keep our larder cool.”
Ayama nodded. “Luc, you may accompany Zanka. The rest of us will go to see the elders.”
They separated, and Ayama, Ghost, and Lenn all made their way to one of the longhouses near the center of town. The guards outside saw Ayama coming, and immediately stepped aside, nodding in deference to the Zenith as she passed inside.
The interior was sparsely furnished, with most of the floor space clear to accommodate meetings with the elders. Five chairs stood against the far wall, the traditional seats of the five elders of the town. Two things came to Ayama’s immediate attention as she walked in. The first was that her son, Rutendo, was sitting in the chair designated for the town’s war leader.
The second, and most surprising, was that he was surrounded by the blazing anima of a Fire-Aspected Exalt.
۞
Kaliel sat near the fire, watching the flickering flames cast patterns of light and shadow across the ground. Once again, his gaze returned to the old man seated on the other side of that fire. The man balanced a bowl on his knees, half-filled with rice and roasted vegetables. Half of a pheasant sat on the rim, mostly untouched.
He had taken passage on a riverboat out of Lagan as planned, and had intended to head south until he reached the Yellow River, and then go on from there. But he had changed to a vessel heading for Sijan upon hearing rumors that Imperial ships had been seen in greater numbers on the River of Tears, and that they had even been boarding some vessels to conduct ‘inspections’. From Sijan he decided to travel over land to Great Forks, where he would resume his river journey.
Two days outside of Sijan, he encountered an old man traveling the same road. The man asked to accompany Kaliel, in order to benefit from the protection offered by the massive Northern warrior. In exchange, the man stated, he offered his own familiarity with the area, which would help them travel faster. Kaliel agreed, and they had ridden together for many leagues. The man had not given his name, and had not asked for one; this was the way of things among travelers, to avoid unneeded complications should the identity of one’s traveling companion prove a troublesome burden.
It had been a few days before a suspicion crossed Kaliel’s mind; he guessed that the man was a Dragon-Blood. He could see that the man was unusually healthy and lively for one of his advanced age, and there was a fluidity to his movements and speech that suggested an affinity with Water. Furthermore, and most concerning, were the small habits and turns of phrase which suggested the old man had Imperial upbringing. Kaliel had considered calling him out when he realized this, but had decided to wait – the man had been nothing but pleasant. Certainly, the man recognized the origin of his jade armor, but had not made comment or reacted poorly.
Finally, however, Kaliel had decided to broach the subject this night. “Grandfather,” he said respectfully, “I must admit that I am surprised that someone of your years has so successfully traveled these lands for so many years. What business causes you to make such journeys?”
The old man smiled. “Well, as you have been good company, and for the most part honest with me, I see no reason not to return the courtesy. And yes, I do know who you are, Kaliel, for it is my business to know such things.”
“That is no great surprise,” Kaliel said, “my reputation was made quite public in the East on the day of my Exaltation. I am correct, then, in my assumption that you are from the Empire.”
He smiled. “I am Cathak Selles, Magistrate of the Scarlet Empire.”
Kaliel nodded. “I have heard that things have become difficult for the Magistrates recently.”
“Let us just say that more of my fellow Magistrates have been ‘ambushed by brigands’ in the past five years than were killed in the previous five centuries. There is reason I chose to travel with you. But, we still have a job that needs to be done. People do not like magistrates, judges, watchmen, or any who keep order, but still we must do our job to keep Creation from falling into Chaos. When Chaos last invaded, it nearly did not end well for us. This is the history that all in the Empire are taught at an early age, as we do not want it to happen again.”
“Agreed,” said Kaliel, “though you might consider that there are others out there more suited to shouldering the burden of bringing order to Creation.”
“When you have been in the field as long as I,” Cathak Selles said, “you learn to keep your options open. I believe that even though you are… pardon the term, Anathema…”
“We prefer ‘Chosen of the Unconquered Sun’.”
“Even though you are Chosen,” Selles stated, “I think you recognize that the Realm itself is not necessarily an enemy. I hope that we can one day come to some arrangement on that matter that will prove beneficial to both sides.”
“Any such arrangement would have to begin with the return of that which belongs to me.”
Selles looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. “Ah, yes. That is not an area in which I have much influence, especially in these times. But I can make some contacts within my House, and see what might be done about your situation with the V’Neef.”
“Just make certain that nothing you do brings them to harm,” Kaliel warned. “Creation is not large enough to hide you.”
The Cathak smiled. “I have not survived a hundred and fifty years on the road by being foolish.”
Kaliel returned the grin. “I hope we may have the chance to meet again one day,” he said.
“As do I. But tomorrow, we must part ways. We will reach the river, and I am meeting an Imperial transport to Greyfalls there. I assume you will choose another vessel.”
“A wise assumption,” Kaliel replied. Then he looked again at the bowl on Cathak Selles’ lap, and gestured at the pheasant. “Are you going to eat that?”
۞
“I would make some comment on how much you have changed since I left,” Ayama said carefully to her son, “but that would not encompass the degree of my surprise.”
Rutendo smiled wistfully, even as his fiery anima faded and died down. “If it is any consolation, you are not the only one who was surprised.” He gestured at the last wisps of his aura. “You must excuse… this. I was in the midst of training exercises when I was told that visitors were coming to the elder’s longhouse. I was not informed who those visitors were.”
“I see.” Ayama forced herself to blink. “And you are well?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“And that is really what is most important,” she said. “We will speak more later.”
“I am glad you are here,” Rutendo said. “You have been told of our situation?”
“Sunlight Pierces the Canopy met us in the forest.”
“I suspect that Sunlight is more nervous than he allows himself to show. The barbarians have been very aggressive in their search, and have been clearing some areas of the forest. So far they have only touched the outer edges of his territory, but it is only a matter of time. Our scouts tell us that the tribes’ shamans have been urging their warriors to hasten the search, and we fear that before long they may resort to burning down the entire forest.”
Ayama shuddered. Such behavior was unthinkable among the tribes who lived in the forests, and the loss of life if the forest were set ablaze…
“Is this a raid?” Ghost asked. Rutendo shook his head.
“They have come with their women and children,” he said, “and they have gathered together in a large group; they number in the thousands. These are all tribes from further East, nearer the Elemental Pole; they have driven out the tribes that once lived in that area; many have come here and settled. I am certain you noticed their dwellings above us. Petgrana is now home to three times the number you knew when you left, Mother. They have added many capable warriors to our village, and helped to improve our defenses.”
Ayama looked around the room at the other four elders. Three were faces she recognized; they had been elders when she left. The fourth, however, was one of the chiefs of the barbarian tribes that had once lived outside Petgrana’s borders, a middle-aged man with skin the color of mahogany, and black hair that flowed unbound down his back and shoulders. It took her a moment to place his name; Chief Branch-Shaker.
“What do we know of their motives in seeking Petgrana so aggressively?” Ayama asked.
“Nothing, I fear. We have not been able to get close enough to their main encampment to learn much, and their language is different enough from the tongues spoken by the local tribes that we cannot get good intelligence. Chief Branch-Shaker says that the languages are close enough to conduct trade, but not exchange complex topics.”
“We would trade with them,” Chief Branch-Shaker said, in halting Forest-Tongue, “many seasons ago. They were not then how they are now.”
“The Wyld?” Ghost asked. He had mostly been standing in the back, trying to keep Lenn up to speed on the conversation. The newly-Exalted Lunar, born and raised in the North, did not understand a word of Forest-Tongue; Ghost was translating into Riverspeak for him.
“We have seen no sign of taint on those we have encountered,” Rutendo said, “and certainly no Fair Folk.”
Ayama turned to Chief Branch-Shaker. “When the new tribes came,” she asked, “did they come to you and ask you to leave, or did they just attack?”
“To talk is not our way,” he replied. “The strong must conquer the weak so that the strong may live.”
“I see. In that case, I will see what I can do to help. But first, I should present my companions to you. I expect that you will remember Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.”
Ghost smiled and bowed with a flourish.
“Next to him is Lenn, who has come with us from Cherak in the North seeking answers about himself. In the cold house is another from the North; Zanka Odokari, my companion. Luc, my adopted nephew, remains with her.”
Rutendo raised a brow. “Nephew?”
She smiled slightly at she looked at her son. “Have you given me grandchildren yet, Rutendo? If the answer is no, then I may adopt who I wish.” The exchange had the sound of old, familiar territory for both of them.
Chief Branch-Shaker was looking over Lenn. “What answers does this one seek?”
“He has been Chosen, as I have,” Ayama said. “But not by the Sun. He is a Chosen of Luna. He has come here because…” she searched for a moment to explain the concept, “because he has been bestowed with the totem of the mongoose, an animal with is unknown in his homeland, but is common here. I felt that he might be able to discover more of his essential being here.”
Chief Branch-Shaker nodded. “We will bring him before our shamans, and teach him of our ways.” When Lenn was informed of this, he seemed somewhat disheartened that he was to be turned over to barbarians, but understood he was likely to learn more about his Lunar heritage through them than he was from Petgrana’s healers and midwives.
“Are your other companions also Chosen?” the chief asked.
“Both Ghost and Zanka are Chosen of the Sun, like myself,” Ayama said. “Luc is not, but may have useful skills.”
“And this Zanka, why does she stay in the cold house?” asked one of the other elders, a frail woman named Rumeena.
“She is from the North, and has not accustomed herself to our climate.”
Chief Branch-Shaker spoke. “I will ask our shamans to summon the spirits of the earth, to create a dwelling amongst the roots of the trees. This will be cooler than the homes that rest upon the ground or in the trees.”
“I thank you,” Ayama said bowing.
“Anything to accommodate the Chosen Ones,” the chief replied.
“I am certain that many of the young men of the village will gladly volunteer to douse Zanka in water regularly,” Ghost said.
“She is beautiful, then?” the chief asked with a smile.
“An extraordinary beauty, and exotic as well,” Ayama said. “Please be aware that the people of the North do not typically grow as tall as those of the East; though she may have what appears to be the stature of a child, she is an adult, and should be treated as such.”
“We have kept your dwelling as you left it,” Rumeena said. “Though it may require some attention. We will send some of the village girls to assist you. We will also show your companions to where they may stay.”
“Thank you,” Ayama said. “Rutendo, I expect I will see you later?”
“I know how long to wait, Mother,” he said to her. She turned and left the longhouse.
“Ghost,” Lenn said, “shouldn’t we stay with her?” But Ghost shook his head vehemently.
“I was here before, and saw what kind of cleaning she did just getting ready to leave,” he told Lenn. “Trust me; we want to be nowhere near that house for a while.”
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