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A Rose In The Wind: A Saga of the Halmae -- Updated June 19, 2014
- Thread starter ellinor
- Start date
WisdomLikeSilence
Community Supporter
Ohh, umm. Savina does know, actually. She figured it out shortly after our encounter with Mariela. She's just never felt like it was appropriate to bring it up.
Seems like sometimes we keep secrets even without meaning to!
Seonaid, I'll try to post more on Savina's build later, but this seems like a good time to mention that Savina has a +15 insight and the background ("Dragon Coast") that lets you reroll insight checks. So she tends to notice quite a bit about people. It's a good thing for all the party secrets that she also has a highly developed sense of social and personal boundaries, and almost never pries.
Jhereth Jax
First Post
So cool! I had no clue she was a ranger- I figured bard. Thanks!
spyscribe
First Post
Funny you should say that. My original concept when I started discussing the character concept with Fajitas was someone who would be a cross between a bard and a Heinlein-style fair witness. Working out the particularities of Sovereign culture, she eventually became a cross between a classical geisha and a fair witness.
We talked about making her a Bard (the class)--but with two leaders already in the party, Fajitas really wanted to avoid adding a third. Defender didn't make a lot of sense, and I'd played a Sorcerer in the original campaign and so wanted to avoid a straight controller, so we looked at finding the right flavor of striker. Ranger had the benefit that even though we already had one in the party, there was an obvious way to build a character that would still be significantly different than Jan.
And so--and I never really thought about it like this before--Nyoko kind of became a Ranger skinned as a Bard.
Mechanically, there aren't a lot of changes. We gave her streetwise as her "ranger" skill instead of nature or dungeoneering. Because 4e doesn't have as many skills as 3/3.5 did, Fajitas is good about letting me (and all of us, to greater or lesser extent) make an argument to plug the skills that Nyoko does have into the areas that an adept would be trained in. Dance checks for the Dance of Sedellus were all acrobatics. I think seducing/convincing the head of Lands was basically diplomacy, and playing the flute at an inn would use streetwise to pick the right song for the crowd that evening.
Fortunately, I haven't had to make a tea ceremony check yet.
ellinor
Explorer
28x01
Wind whipped at the flags atop the imposingly symmetrical obsidian gates of the Temple of Kettenek as Nyoko, Mena, and Kormick stood before them, awaiting their meeting with Brother Ono Arato, the Kettenite representative to Cauldron’s synod.
A guard led them through a bare, obsidian-walled hall so clean that Kormick nearly stopped to check his reflection in its finish. At the end of the hallway, they could see Brother Ono in his office, sitting crosslegged on the stone floor, facing away from them.
“He is the rock, and the rock does not move,” Kormick remarked quietly.
Mena stifled a laugh.
Brother Ono turned, stood, and bowed as they reached the threshold of his office. “Honored Adept, Honored Justicar, and Dame Filomena. It is an honor.”
Kormick resisted the urge to respond with a sentence entirely composed of the word "honor," and instead bowed in return. The motion had become less awkward over time, but still felt foreign.
“I have for many weeks pondered what you said as you danced the Dance of Sedellus in Ehkt’s Judgment Pageant, Adept Nyoko-san,” he began sternly, “and I must know. Which of you invaded my mind, and to what end?”
There was a slight pause; Brother Ono’s tone was more accusatory than they had expected.
“None of us reached into your mind, I assure you,” Mena used her most diplomatic tone.
“I can barely read meanings when they’re spoken aloud,” Kormick added.
Brother Ono looked at Nyoko, who nodded and said, “What they say is true. None of us has the ability to read minds. But there is a matter of importance about which we need to speak with you. To get your attention, Dame Mena-san suggested that I say what I said, not because she invaded your mind, but because your mind spoke into hers. She was a witness, not an intruder.”
Brother Ono furrowed his brow. “I trust your Witness as an Adept, but with respect, I do not have the ability to speak into minds.”
“There is a story you may have heard,” Kormick began, feeling himself veering dangerously near to metaphor, “about how everyone knows a blacksmith’s hours not because they are posted on his door, but because one can hear the blows of his hammer on the anvil.” He adjusted course. “What I mean to say is maybe your thoughts are just very loud.”
Brother Ono looked skeptical.
“Or perhaps there is a higher force who speaks through you,” Nyoko said, trying a different approach.
Brother Ono considered it. “What purpose would Kettenek have in sending my thoughts to you?”
“Kettenek’s ways may not be easily visible, because they are larger than us,” Kormick began, and then—he couldn’t explain the feeling, but he just knew what to say, as if Brother Ono was speaking directly into Kormick’s mind— “One can’t see the whole range from the face of a single mountain, but one can read truth as plain as you can see a stone on a summer day.”
Brother Ono jolted back in surprise. “Why did you say those words?”
“I . . .” Kormick thought about it. Why had he said that? “I don’t know. But I prayed last night, and that phrase, about a stone on a summer day, that phrase came to me just now. I heard it, in my mind.”
Brother Ono looked perturbed. He seemed genuinely surprised, and discomfited, by the idea that he might be projecting his thoughts into the minds of others. “I—this is very unsettling. I must think on it. Pray on it. But . . . for now I will hear your matter of great importance.”
Nyoko explained the risks that the Tide posed, and of the Tide agents in the Priesthood. She described how their group of unorthodox Inquisitors had followed the scourge of the Tide where it led them, and how it had led them to understand Brother Ono was a trustworthy man. She explained that they would be able to provide evidence of wrongdoing by the Mother Superior, and that when the Inquisition moved, it would need the aid of Brother Ono and all who would support the Lord High Regent. She couched it as a matter of preserving the stability of the rock on which Kettenek stood in the Sovereignty.
“You have gone to great lengths, even using methods of which I do not approve,” Brother Ono said at last, “But I will listen to your evidence without bias. The treachery you describe would shake Cauldron to its core, and if proven, must be stopped.”
“You understand,” Nyoko said, solemnly, “that to prevent the risk of the information leaking, we will provide it only when the time comes.”
Brother Ono bowed, slightly, understanding, but uncomfortable. “Then when the time comes, I will listen.”
As they turned to leave, Brother Ono stopped Kormick. “Are your words always so divinely inspired, Justicar?” he asked.
“Absolutely not, my lord,” Kormick replied, surprised. They’re not even mundanely inspired, he thought.
“Well, Kormick-san, you are a man of surprising talents, perhaps surprising even to yourself. I advise you to engage in more introspection and to recognize your own wisdom,” Brother Ono said, with a bow.
“If you ever give yourself the credit you deserve,” Mena said to Kormick, “that’ll be the real surprise.”
###
Arden traced the complex pattern of the rug with her eyes for the twelfth time. She, Mena, and Savina had been called to the Fortune Riders’ temple to meet with Sister Sweet Scent, but they had been waiting in an anteroom for at least 30 minutes. A man stood with his arms folded, guarding the door, staring at Arden. She recognized him; he had stood at the door of the temple when she and Kormick had been there during the Ehkt’s Judgment games. She wondered if he recognized her.
There was a knock at the door, and the man led them down a hallway to a small private parlor. It was luxurious, with woven wall-hangings and a divan in the corner, but it seemed designed for comfort, not ostentation.
In the middle of the room, sitting on a soft chair behind a carved desk, was Sister Sweet Scent. She was wrapped in a blanket, with her hair tied back. A cup of broth steamed on the desk in front of her. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. “Forgive me for not getting up.”
“We are glad to see you as well as you are,” Savina replied, “but if there is any way in which we may assist—”
Sister Sweet Scent cut her off. “You have been diligently harassing my people with offers of assistance for the past week. I am asking you, politely, to stop.”
“We will, if that’s what you want,” Mena replied, “but first you’ll want to hear what we have to say. We have found the man responsible for your false arrest. He is a member of the Restless Tide of the One True Path. The Tide is working to end the Affirmation. I’m sure you share our interest in preventing that.”
Sister Sweet Scent folded her arms. “Why in the name of the four gods should I believe a word from the people who released the heretic responsible for the cheating in the Ehkt’s Judgment games?”
“Because the risks of believing us are minor,” Savina’s voice lilted with intrigue, “and the rewards are quite great.”
Sister Sweet Scent leaned forward, and the blanket fell away slightly, revealing a still-raw lash near her collarbone. Arden winced inwardly at its familiar color, and she wasn’t surprised by Sister Sweet Scent’s distrust. Releasing the cheater had appeased the Eighths, but it did them no favors with the Sedellans. “I’ll make you a deal,” Sister Sweet Scent said. “You tell me your story, and I’ll listen.”
Mena once again told the story of the Tide’s plan, and the Inquisition’s journey the long way around the Circle. She explained their investigation of the corrupt Inquisitor, and how the release of the Ehkt’s Judgment culprit had helped to smoke him out. The mole passed secret information about the culprit’s release to the Priesthood—which, Mena admitted, had unacceptably brutal consequences for Sister Sweet Scent, but it had the one benefit of limiting the Inquisition’s investigation to those who knew of the release.
Sister Sweet Scent listened attentively, and then leaned back in her chair. “I shall have my people investigate. If I can confirm your story, I’ll help you. And I want your Inquisitor mole.”
“Do you need to mete out justice yourself,” Mena asked, “or are you content to see it done?” It was a good question, and Arden suspected that she knew the answer. This woman didn't have a lot of trust in Kettenek’s servants after what she’d been through. She wanted to be sure that the system was going to get it right—so she would double-check their investigation before trusting them. Arden couldn’t decide whether she liked the woman or not, but she respected her reasoning.
“As I said, we will investigate. I, myself, will interrogate this man. And you will have my support if and when I have confirmed your story. Not a moment sooner.”
“In that case,” Mena said, “the Inquisitor’s name is Goro.”
###
At a back room in the Inquisition, Twiggy chalked a list on one of the walls as Nyoko recited information.
Evidence Against Mother Superior:
(1) Kowazu’s confession re Hillside District (implicated Mother Superior)
(2) Goro (leaked info to Tide; fast-tracked Sister Sweet Scent’s arrest)
(3) Arden’s Tide contacts
(4) Wrongful arrest order for Sweet Scent came from Priesthood
“She’s done a good job of hiding her tracks,” Twiggy said. “And the Synod meeting is in two days, on Sedellus Rising.”
“We call it Sedellus Fallen,” said Nyoko. “Regardless, you’re right about the Mother Superior. She’s done a good job, but since we’ve gone the long way around the circle, we should have enough for charges against her to stick.”
“So once we get the support of the Sedellans, and get word to the Adepts that everyone else has agreed, we will have everything we need,” Twiggy said. “Then what? How does the process work? Do we just march into the Synod meeting with letters from all of the Rings?”
Nyoko shook her head. “You ask like I’ve done this before.” She paused. “No one has.”
###
Kormick adjusted the heavy, wriggling bundle over his shoulder as they approached the Fortune Riders’ temple a day and a half later. “Explain why I am here with you?” Unsuku asked.
“You’re here to Witness the delivery of this carpet,” Kormick replied.
The carpet kicked Kormick in the kidneys.
Inside, they unrolled the bundle to reveal Goro, bound and gagged. Sister Sweet Scent had demanded that she be able to interrogate the Tide mole herself, and Kormick had smuggled him out of custody for the purpose. Kormick had learned enough about the Sovereign legal system to know that if Goro was going to confess, Unsuku needed to be there to hear it.
It only took a handful of questions—and divinely cast truth rituals—from Sister Sweet Scent before Goro sang like a bird, revealing the location of a blind drop where he received orders from the Tide and—impressively—implicating a number of Tidesmen who worked for the Priesthood. When he was done, Unsuku had a thorough and unassailable record of Goro’s perfidy, and Sister Sweet Scent had agreed to lend her support to their plan for the Synod.
The Inquisition disposed of Goro secretly and efficiently.
###
Mid-morning on Sedellus Fallen (by the Sovereign reckoning), as the city of Cauldron geared up for a day-long harvest festival, Twiggy packed a sheaf of letters from the various Rings into a portfolio and tied them into her Inquisitorial robes. Around her, the Inquisition geared up to escort them to the Synod meeting for an unprecedented task: the arrest for heresy of the leader of the Priesthood.
“So this is what history feels like,” Savina said, as she packed potions into a satchel.
“History feels like the supple cover of an old book,” Twiggy replied. “This feels nothing like that.”
“It feels like dressing for a party I don’t look forward to,” Tavi said.
“Or like being summoned for auction,” Arden said, grimly.
“Like the curtain opening on the stage,” Nyoko said.
“Like the eve of battle,” Mena said.
“Like dawn,” Kormick said, as they set out for the Temple of the Priesthood, flanked by over a dozen well-armed Inquisitors.
Wind whipped at the flags atop the imposingly symmetrical obsidian gates of the Temple of Kettenek as Nyoko, Mena, and Kormick stood before them, awaiting their meeting with Brother Ono Arato, the Kettenite representative to Cauldron’s synod.
A guard led them through a bare, obsidian-walled hall so clean that Kormick nearly stopped to check his reflection in its finish. At the end of the hallway, they could see Brother Ono in his office, sitting crosslegged on the stone floor, facing away from them.
“He is the rock, and the rock does not move,” Kormick remarked quietly.
Mena stifled a laugh.
Brother Ono turned, stood, and bowed as they reached the threshold of his office. “Honored Adept, Honored Justicar, and Dame Filomena. It is an honor.”
Kormick resisted the urge to respond with a sentence entirely composed of the word "honor," and instead bowed in return. The motion had become less awkward over time, but still felt foreign.
“I have for many weeks pondered what you said as you danced the Dance of Sedellus in Ehkt’s Judgment Pageant, Adept Nyoko-san,” he began sternly, “and I must know. Which of you invaded my mind, and to what end?”
There was a slight pause; Brother Ono’s tone was more accusatory than they had expected.
“None of us reached into your mind, I assure you,” Mena used her most diplomatic tone.
“I can barely read meanings when they’re spoken aloud,” Kormick added.
Brother Ono looked at Nyoko, who nodded and said, “What they say is true. None of us has the ability to read minds. But there is a matter of importance about which we need to speak with you. To get your attention, Dame Mena-san suggested that I say what I said, not because she invaded your mind, but because your mind spoke into hers. She was a witness, not an intruder.”
Brother Ono furrowed his brow. “I trust your Witness as an Adept, but with respect, I do not have the ability to speak into minds.”
“There is a story you may have heard,” Kormick began, feeling himself veering dangerously near to metaphor, “about how everyone knows a blacksmith’s hours not because they are posted on his door, but because one can hear the blows of his hammer on the anvil.” He adjusted course. “What I mean to say is maybe your thoughts are just very loud.”
Brother Ono looked skeptical.
“Or perhaps there is a higher force who speaks through you,” Nyoko said, trying a different approach.
Brother Ono considered it. “What purpose would Kettenek have in sending my thoughts to you?”
“Kettenek’s ways may not be easily visible, because they are larger than us,” Kormick began, and then—he couldn’t explain the feeling, but he just knew what to say, as if Brother Ono was speaking directly into Kormick’s mind— “One can’t see the whole range from the face of a single mountain, but one can read truth as plain as you can see a stone on a summer day.”
Brother Ono jolted back in surprise. “Why did you say those words?”
“I . . .” Kormick thought about it. Why had he said that? “I don’t know. But I prayed last night, and that phrase, about a stone on a summer day, that phrase came to me just now. I heard it, in my mind.”
Brother Ono looked perturbed. He seemed genuinely surprised, and discomfited, by the idea that he might be projecting his thoughts into the minds of others. “I—this is very unsettling. I must think on it. Pray on it. But . . . for now I will hear your matter of great importance.”
Nyoko explained the risks that the Tide posed, and of the Tide agents in the Priesthood. She described how their group of unorthodox Inquisitors had followed the scourge of the Tide where it led them, and how it had led them to understand Brother Ono was a trustworthy man. She explained that they would be able to provide evidence of wrongdoing by the Mother Superior, and that when the Inquisition moved, it would need the aid of Brother Ono and all who would support the Lord High Regent. She couched it as a matter of preserving the stability of the rock on which Kettenek stood in the Sovereignty.
“You have gone to great lengths, even using methods of which I do not approve,” Brother Ono said at last, “But I will listen to your evidence without bias. The treachery you describe would shake Cauldron to its core, and if proven, must be stopped.”
“You understand,” Nyoko said, solemnly, “that to prevent the risk of the information leaking, we will provide it only when the time comes.”
Brother Ono bowed, slightly, understanding, but uncomfortable. “Then when the time comes, I will listen.”
As they turned to leave, Brother Ono stopped Kormick. “Are your words always so divinely inspired, Justicar?” he asked.
“Absolutely not, my lord,” Kormick replied, surprised. They’re not even mundanely inspired, he thought.
“Well, Kormick-san, you are a man of surprising talents, perhaps surprising even to yourself. I advise you to engage in more introspection and to recognize your own wisdom,” Brother Ono said, with a bow.
“If you ever give yourself the credit you deserve,” Mena said to Kormick, “that’ll be the real surprise.”
###
Arden traced the complex pattern of the rug with her eyes for the twelfth time. She, Mena, and Savina had been called to the Fortune Riders’ temple to meet with Sister Sweet Scent, but they had been waiting in an anteroom for at least 30 minutes. A man stood with his arms folded, guarding the door, staring at Arden. She recognized him; he had stood at the door of the temple when she and Kormick had been there during the Ehkt’s Judgment games. She wondered if he recognized her.
There was a knock at the door, and the man led them down a hallway to a small private parlor. It was luxurious, with woven wall-hangings and a divan in the corner, but it seemed designed for comfort, not ostentation.
In the middle of the room, sitting on a soft chair behind a carved desk, was Sister Sweet Scent. She was wrapped in a blanket, with her hair tied back. A cup of broth steamed on the desk in front of her. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. “Forgive me for not getting up.”
“We are glad to see you as well as you are,” Savina replied, “but if there is any way in which we may assist—”
Sister Sweet Scent cut her off. “You have been diligently harassing my people with offers of assistance for the past week. I am asking you, politely, to stop.”
“We will, if that’s what you want,” Mena replied, “but first you’ll want to hear what we have to say. We have found the man responsible for your false arrest. He is a member of the Restless Tide of the One True Path. The Tide is working to end the Affirmation. I’m sure you share our interest in preventing that.”
Sister Sweet Scent folded her arms. “Why in the name of the four gods should I believe a word from the people who released the heretic responsible for the cheating in the Ehkt’s Judgment games?”
“Because the risks of believing us are minor,” Savina’s voice lilted with intrigue, “and the rewards are quite great.”
Sister Sweet Scent leaned forward, and the blanket fell away slightly, revealing a still-raw lash near her collarbone. Arden winced inwardly at its familiar color, and she wasn’t surprised by Sister Sweet Scent’s distrust. Releasing the cheater had appeased the Eighths, but it did them no favors with the Sedellans. “I’ll make you a deal,” Sister Sweet Scent said. “You tell me your story, and I’ll listen.”
Mena once again told the story of the Tide’s plan, and the Inquisition’s journey the long way around the Circle. She explained their investigation of the corrupt Inquisitor, and how the release of the Ehkt’s Judgment culprit had helped to smoke him out. The mole passed secret information about the culprit’s release to the Priesthood—which, Mena admitted, had unacceptably brutal consequences for Sister Sweet Scent, but it had the one benefit of limiting the Inquisition’s investigation to those who knew of the release.
Sister Sweet Scent listened attentively, and then leaned back in her chair. “I shall have my people investigate. If I can confirm your story, I’ll help you. And I want your Inquisitor mole.”
“Do you need to mete out justice yourself,” Mena asked, “or are you content to see it done?” It was a good question, and Arden suspected that she knew the answer. This woman didn't have a lot of trust in Kettenek’s servants after what she’d been through. She wanted to be sure that the system was going to get it right—so she would double-check their investigation before trusting them. Arden couldn’t decide whether she liked the woman or not, but she respected her reasoning.
“As I said, we will investigate. I, myself, will interrogate this man. And you will have my support if and when I have confirmed your story. Not a moment sooner.”
“In that case,” Mena said, “the Inquisitor’s name is Goro.”
###
At a back room in the Inquisition, Twiggy chalked a list on one of the walls as Nyoko recited information.
Evidence Against Mother Superior:
(1) Kowazu’s confession re Hillside District (implicated Mother Superior)
(2) Goro (leaked info to Tide; fast-tracked Sister Sweet Scent’s arrest)
(3) Arden’s Tide contacts
(4) Wrongful arrest order for Sweet Scent came from Priesthood
“She’s done a good job of hiding her tracks,” Twiggy said. “And the Synod meeting is in two days, on Sedellus Rising.”
“We call it Sedellus Fallen,” said Nyoko. “Regardless, you’re right about the Mother Superior. She’s done a good job, but since we’ve gone the long way around the circle, we should have enough for charges against her to stick.”
“So once we get the support of the Sedellans, and get word to the Adepts that everyone else has agreed, we will have everything we need,” Twiggy said. “Then what? How does the process work? Do we just march into the Synod meeting with letters from all of the Rings?”
Nyoko shook her head. “You ask like I’ve done this before.” She paused. “No one has.”
###
Kormick adjusted the heavy, wriggling bundle over his shoulder as they approached the Fortune Riders’ temple a day and a half later. “Explain why I am here with you?” Unsuku asked.
“You’re here to Witness the delivery of this carpet,” Kormick replied.
The carpet kicked Kormick in the kidneys.
Inside, they unrolled the bundle to reveal Goro, bound and gagged. Sister Sweet Scent had demanded that she be able to interrogate the Tide mole herself, and Kormick had smuggled him out of custody for the purpose. Kormick had learned enough about the Sovereign legal system to know that if Goro was going to confess, Unsuku needed to be there to hear it.
It only took a handful of questions—and divinely cast truth rituals—from Sister Sweet Scent before Goro sang like a bird, revealing the location of a blind drop where he received orders from the Tide and—impressively—implicating a number of Tidesmen who worked for the Priesthood. When he was done, Unsuku had a thorough and unassailable record of Goro’s perfidy, and Sister Sweet Scent had agreed to lend her support to their plan for the Synod.
The Inquisition disposed of Goro secretly and efficiently.
###
Mid-morning on Sedellus Fallen (by the Sovereign reckoning), as the city of Cauldron geared up for a day-long harvest festival, Twiggy packed a sheaf of letters from the various Rings into a portfolio and tied them into her Inquisitorial robes. Around her, the Inquisition geared up to escort them to the Synod meeting for an unprecedented task: the arrest for heresy of the leader of the Priesthood.
“So this is what history feels like,” Savina said, as she packed potions into a satchel.
“History feels like the supple cover of an old book,” Twiggy replied. “This feels nothing like that.”
“It feels like dressing for a party I don’t look forward to,” Tavi said.
“Or like being summoned for auction,” Arden said, grimly.
“Like the curtain opening on the stage,” Nyoko said.
“Like the eve of battle,” Mena said.
“Like dawn,” Kormick said, as they set out for the Temple of the Priesthood, flanked by over a dozen well-armed Inquisitors.
Seonaid
Explorer
This makes me laugh out loud, every time I read it. My husband probably thinks I'm nuts, because I've read it more than a few times.
Fajitas
Hold the Peppers
After 3 months in game and I think over six months of real time reaching this, the epic climax of the Skill Cascade, it would have been a little disappointing to solve it entirely through diplomacy...
I'm looking forward immensely to seeing the payoff of this whole epic process.
And now that we've reached this point, the Collected Story Hour page has been updated to contain everything up to the end of session 27... Hope you enjoy it!
ellinor
Explorer
28x02
Thanks, StevenAC!
Here we go...
28x02
“Do you hear that?” Rose asked.
Savina craned her ears. There was a noise, like the cheering crowd of a festival. Savina concentrated. There was a smell, too, like cooking. “Today’s a harvest festival here, too, right? I think I can smell the food.”
“We don’t cook outdoors,” Nyoko said. “That’s something else. Burning. Coming from across town.”
Across town, where they were going.
They broke into a run through the narrow, crowded streets, past residences, through alleys, past shops and inns.
Savina reached the back of a crowd. Smoke billowed from somewhere, but there were too many people between her and the smoke. Unruly people. Savina put her hand on the shoulder of a young woman. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“Something about the Priesthood and the Inquisition,” the woman said. “I’m trying to find out myself.”
Not a good sign, Savina thought. The Priesthood shouldn’t know we’re coming.
As they pushed through the crowd, dodging flailing arms and thrown bottles, Savina noticed that a lot of the people were wearing purple sashes. Sedellan colors—but surely, there weren’t so many Sedellans in Cauldron. “Those sashes, are they normal for this festival?” she asked Unsuku, who was just a few steps behind.
“No,” said Unsuku, ducking to avoid a thrown pot.
Another bad sign. A few feet away, a woman was holding her own head, trying to staunch blood from a wound on her temple. Savina began to dash toward the woman, but stopped. I can’t heal everyone, she told herself. And we have work to do.
Kormick grabbed the collar of one of the sash-wearers. “What’s this about?” he barked.
The sash-wearer spit at Kormick’s feet. “Inquisition dog. Everyone knows that you are conspiring with the Priesthood to destroy all Sedellans.”
“What are you talking about?” Kormick dragged the man’s face closer to his own.
“You arrested our leader, Sister Sweet Scent. Held her and tortured her without provocation! We’ve heard other Sedellan Synod members in other cities have been arrested as well! We know you’re trying to stamp out our beliefs, and we won’t let you get away with it!”
Savina stared at the man. She certainly hadn’t heard anything about arrests in other cities. The man seemed genuinely angry, and genuinely scared. But, as she quickly surveyed other nearby faces, she realized that wasn’t true for everyone here . . . some of them looked hard, determined, sly… they were here to foment unrest.
Kormick turned to Lord Ono, who had joined them to lead the Inquisition squad personally. “Tide propaganda. They started this riot. We’ll head to the Temple if you can deal with the hooligans.”
Lord Ono nodded. “Gather up!” he announced to the Inquisitors.
Kormick released the sash-wearer’s lapel and waved him away. “Go to your Sedellan friends. Tell all of them that Inquisitors let you go.” The man ran, but Savina could not see where he went.
Savina started running again up the narrow street toward the Temple of Kettenek – that is, she tried to – but suddenly she couldn’t move. A searing pain coursed from the back of her calf up her leg down her back – and then a second pain. Two arrows had hit her, as if from nowhere – and as she looked around, she saw she wasn’t the only one hit. Tavi was pulling an arrow from his thigh. Mena had been hit three times, and stumbled from the pain.
Arden reacted immediately, throwing a dagger at one of the rooftop snipers, and then clambering up a nearby scaffold and stabbing him. Savina shook off the shock and snapped into action. She knelt over Mena and said a prayer. Immediately, Mena staggered to her feet and chased after Arden. Kormick hurled himself through a tavern window and pushed past tables toward the stairway in the back.
Moments later, two snipers plummeted from the roof, landing on the street. Tavi knocked one of them out with a swift blow. The other sniper landed awkwardly Savina’s feet—but amazingly, he pushed at the ground as if to stand up.
Savina whacked the fallen sniper on the head with her staff, as hard as she could muster. He grabbed his head in pain. “Stay down!” she yelled.
“That’s this roof clear!” yelled Kormick. But there were more snipers. An arrow whizzed past Savina’s shoulder. More flew over the street from one roof to another. Savina heard Mena cry out again—she was hit, atop one of the roofs. Too far away.[ /i] But Tavi had been fending off several attackers at ground level and was grabbing his shoulder in pain. Savina ran to him, reciting a prayer under her breath. “Not! The! Boots!” she heard Arden yell, and in moments another sniper fell to the ground, blood streaming from his side, unconscious.
Savina spotted Mena, by a second floor window, fending off one of the snipers—he’d dropped his bow, and was trying to shove Mena out the window. “Nice try, honey,” Mena said. “Now back yourself up and try again.” He took her advice, but Arden was right behind him, dagger in hand. Shick, he slumped over unconscious, his torso hanging out the window. Arden pulled him inside.
Across the alley, Savina heard Unsuku’s voice. “Someone want to finish this guy off?” She was on a balcony, holding the last sniper in an exotic, but effective, grip. In a flash, one of Nyoko’s arrows flew past Unsuku and into the man’s shoulder. With an impressive burst of speed, Mena leapt the gap and, with a deft flick of the sword, incapacitated him.
“Are we done?” Kormick asked. He appeared in the doorway of the building he’d crashed through, and picked up two of the fallen snipers by the backs of their jerkins. “Let’s take these miscreants in.” One by one, the party returned to ground level, carrying unconscious snipers.
“One left,” Savina said, and ran toward the one she’d whacked with her staff, now a dozen yards away. He was staggering to his feet and yelling at the top of his lungs “Help! Help! I’m being attacked by the Inquisition! Help me, Sisters!”
Then he looked at Savina with a nasty grin and winked.
“That’s not true!” Savina yelled. “We’re on your side!” Her words were swallowed up in the din of the crowd. Nyoko caught him with an arrow, but he started running. Twiggy tried to cast something at him, but to no avail. Tavi dispersed the crowd a bit with a burst of flame, but people still closed behind the sniper in an instant, swallowing him up, almost blocking him from view.
Kormick dropped the two unconscious snipers and chased the conscious one. “’Scuse me, pardon me,” he barked, pushing through the crowd, following the eddies where the man had been. “I need you to stop. Inciting. This. Crowd,” he bellowed as he caught up with the man, and swung his hammer sidelong at the man’s right knee. The man collapsed. Kormick dragged him, limping, back to where Savina and the others stood.
“You’re not Sedellan, are you,” Savina asked him, through slivered eyes. “You’re Tide, here to cause trouble.” The man sneered. It was all the confirmation Savina needed. She pulled at his purple sash. “I’ll take that.”
“What do we do with them?” Twiggy asked. “Do we really want to be dragging prisoners around on a mission to arrest the Mother Superior?”
“We have no choice,” Mena answered, and slung one of them – stripped of his purple sash – over her slight shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The others did the same. Kormick took two, one over each shoulder. Unsuku pulled the limping one, gagged but defiant, along beside her.
And they ran, carrying their burdens, through the crowd, toward the Temple.
Thanks, StevenAC!
Here we go...
28x02
“Do you hear that?” Rose asked.
Savina craned her ears. There was a noise, like the cheering crowd of a festival. Savina concentrated. There was a smell, too, like cooking. “Today’s a harvest festival here, too, right? I think I can smell the food.”
“We don’t cook outdoors,” Nyoko said. “That’s something else. Burning. Coming from across town.”
Across town, where they were going.
They broke into a run through the narrow, crowded streets, past residences, through alleys, past shops and inns.
Savina reached the back of a crowd. Smoke billowed from somewhere, but there were too many people between her and the smoke. Unruly people. Savina put her hand on the shoulder of a young woman. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“Something about the Priesthood and the Inquisition,” the woman said. “I’m trying to find out myself.”
Not a good sign, Savina thought. The Priesthood shouldn’t know we’re coming.
As they pushed through the crowd, dodging flailing arms and thrown bottles, Savina noticed that a lot of the people were wearing purple sashes. Sedellan colors—but surely, there weren’t so many Sedellans in Cauldron. “Those sashes, are they normal for this festival?” she asked Unsuku, who was just a few steps behind.
“No,” said Unsuku, ducking to avoid a thrown pot.
Another bad sign. A few feet away, a woman was holding her own head, trying to staunch blood from a wound on her temple. Savina began to dash toward the woman, but stopped. I can’t heal everyone, she told herself. And we have work to do.
Kormick grabbed the collar of one of the sash-wearers. “What’s this about?” he barked.
The sash-wearer spit at Kormick’s feet. “Inquisition dog. Everyone knows that you are conspiring with the Priesthood to destroy all Sedellans.”
“What are you talking about?” Kormick dragged the man’s face closer to his own.
“You arrested our leader, Sister Sweet Scent. Held her and tortured her without provocation! We’ve heard other Sedellan Synod members in other cities have been arrested as well! We know you’re trying to stamp out our beliefs, and we won’t let you get away with it!”
Savina stared at the man. She certainly hadn’t heard anything about arrests in other cities. The man seemed genuinely angry, and genuinely scared. But, as she quickly surveyed other nearby faces, she realized that wasn’t true for everyone here . . . some of them looked hard, determined, sly… they were here to foment unrest.
Kormick turned to Lord Ono, who had joined them to lead the Inquisition squad personally. “Tide propaganda. They started this riot. We’ll head to the Temple if you can deal with the hooligans.”
Lord Ono nodded. “Gather up!” he announced to the Inquisitors.
Kormick released the sash-wearer’s lapel and waved him away. “Go to your Sedellan friends. Tell all of them that Inquisitors let you go.” The man ran, but Savina could not see where he went.
Savina started running again up the narrow street toward the Temple of Kettenek – that is, she tried to – but suddenly she couldn’t move. A searing pain coursed from the back of her calf up her leg down her back – and then a second pain. Two arrows had hit her, as if from nowhere – and as she looked around, she saw she wasn’t the only one hit. Tavi was pulling an arrow from his thigh. Mena had been hit three times, and stumbled from the pain.
Arden reacted immediately, throwing a dagger at one of the rooftop snipers, and then clambering up a nearby scaffold and stabbing him. Savina shook off the shock and snapped into action. She knelt over Mena and said a prayer. Immediately, Mena staggered to her feet and chased after Arden. Kormick hurled himself through a tavern window and pushed past tables toward the stairway in the back.
Moments later, two snipers plummeted from the roof, landing on the street. Tavi knocked one of them out with a swift blow. The other sniper landed awkwardly Savina’s feet—but amazingly, he pushed at the ground as if to stand up.
Savina whacked the fallen sniper on the head with her staff, as hard as she could muster. He grabbed his head in pain. “Stay down!” she yelled.
“That’s this roof clear!” yelled Kormick. But there were more snipers. An arrow whizzed past Savina’s shoulder. More flew over the street from one roof to another. Savina heard Mena cry out again—she was hit, atop one of the roofs. Too far away.[ /i] But Tavi had been fending off several attackers at ground level and was grabbing his shoulder in pain. Savina ran to him, reciting a prayer under her breath. “Not! The! Boots!” she heard Arden yell, and in moments another sniper fell to the ground, blood streaming from his side, unconscious.
Savina spotted Mena, by a second floor window, fending off one of the snipers—he’d dropped his bow, and was trying to shove Mena out the window. “Nice try, honey,” Mena said. “Now back yourself up and try again.” He took her advice, but Arden was right behind him, dagger in hand. Shick, he slumped over unconscious, his torso hanging out the window. Arden pulled him inside.
Across the alley, Savina heard Unsuku’s voice. “Someone want to finish this guy off?” She was on a balcony, holding the last sniper in an exotic, but effective, grip. In a flash, one of Nyoko’s arrows flew past Unsuku and into the man’s shoulder. With an impressive burst of speed, Mena leapt the gap and, with a deft flick of the sword, incapacitated him.
“Are we done?” Kormick asked. He appeared in the doorway of the building he’d crashed through, and picked up two of the fallen snipers by the backs of their jerkins. “Let’s take these miscreants in.” One by one, the party returned to ground level, carrying unconscious snipers.
“One left,” Savina said, and ran toward the one she’d whacked with her staff, now a dozen yards away. He was staggering to his feet and yelling at the top of his lungs “Help! Help! I’m being attacked by the Inquisition! Help me, Sisters!”
Then he looked at Savina with a nasty grin and winked.
“That’s not true!” Savina yelled. “We’re on your side!” Her words were swallowed up in the din of the crowd. Nyoko caught him with an arrow, but he started running. Twiggy tried to cast something at him, but to no avail. Tavi dispersed the crowd a bit with a burst of flame, but people still closed behind the sniper in an instant, swallowing him up, almost blocking him from view.
Kormick dropped the two unconscious snipers and chased the conscious one. “’Scuse me, pardon me,” he barked, pushing through the crowd, following the eddies where the man had been. “I need you to stop. Inciting. This. Crowd,” he bellowed as he caught up with the man, and swung his hammer sidelong at the man’s right knee. The man collapsed. Kormick dragged him, limping, back to where Savina and the others stood.
“You’re not Sedellan, are you,” Savina asked him, through slivered eyes. “You’re Tide, here to cause trouble.” The man sneered. It was all the confirmation Savina needed. She pulled at his purple sash. “I’ll take that.”
“What do we do with them?” Twiggy asked. “Do we really want to be dragging prisoners around on a mission to arrest the Mother Superior?”
“We have no choice,” Mena answered, and slung one of them – stripped of his purple sash – over her slight shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The others did the same. Kormick took two, one over each shoulder. Unsuku pulled the limping one, gagged but defiant, along beside her.
And they ran, carrying their burdens, through the crowd, toward the Temple.
