[Realms #456] High Plains Drifter
"What's with the beady little eyes, Shamalin?" Noxin asked, peering over the cleric's shoulder to where she had Anania's necklace hidden. She looked up into the big man's curious face and shifted awkwardly so that he wasn't towering over her.
"It's a... means of communication," Shamalin told him. "Anania was an agent of Lord Hofralix, and this necklace allowed her to send him updates on our progress from time to time."
"And that's bad?" the half-giant asked, trying to piece together the information that he had and finding the picture incomplete. Shamalin nodded.
"There was something unnatural about Hofralix and his city," the Mercybringer told him and Huzair laughed outloud at that.
"Unnatural?" he snorted. "I should say so! He was a beholder, for Nethlar's sake!" Noxin's jaw dropped open at that revelation and he turned to look at the elf maid's draped corpse.
"Right," Shamalin continued. "And now we are about to try to release the god of nature. I don't think we owe Hofralix any more information. And I can't imagine him sending along reinforcements on our behalf. He may already know too much about the swords." Noxin scratched his head, the mental struggle of putting all this information together showing plainly on his face.
"I don't trust Hofralix, either, Shamalin," Morier put in. "But I don't distrust him so much that I'm willing to take a strong stance on the necklace. If we keep it and keep it under cover and under wraps, as Huzair's suggested, I'm okay with having it until we have reason to get rid of it." Shamalin grimaced, her hand tightening on the necklace hidden beneath her cloak.
"I think it would be a very bad idea to take this necklace through the gate," she said, simply.
"Well, I have never been a fan of silent partners, I'll tell you... but I never met this Horlafax, so I guess I can't help much," Noxin stated with a shrug of his massive shoulders. Morier glance up at him and nodded once.
"It might prove useful and I don't think we're in a position to throw away anything that could provide assistance," the albino said to Shamalin. "And in that same regard, I think it's critical that each of us who have them be in control of our elemental blades as we go forward. It will be important for each of the blades' wielders to be familiar with what each is capable of so that we can think quickly and use its powers to the fullest extent."
"On what assumptions do you base this opinion?" Ahlear asked, stepping out of the nearby shadows. "What makes you think a single blade needs to be with each person?" Morier sighed and did not look up at the mummy.
"The four elemental weapons we possess are the four "keys" that we need to reunite Dridana's heart and body," the eldritch warrior explained, his hand was unconsciously rubbing at the spot on his chest where the strange black tattoo marked him as linked to the mummy. "I don't think keeping it hidden away and just saying, 'there, we have it' is going to do us any good... I think it will need to be used and we won't know when that time will come. So someone needs to be wielding it when it does."
"I think we have to weigh the advantages of keeping the fourth sword 'safe' in Huzair's
Haversack against the strategic advantages that someone wielding the sword and its powers gives us," Shamalin offered, and it was clear from her body language that when she said 'someone' she meant Noxin. "It certainly makes more sense to me that someone use the sword and all its abilities as we enter these tests. Carrying it this far was a different story. Putting it in Huzair's bag then made more sense. Now it has to be used." There were nods all around... mostly.
"Using them and wielding them are two different things," Ahlear scoffed. "Having the item sheathed whilst in your possession should be enough to keep it near to hand for when you actually need it properly to free the heart. I think that whoever it is that guards the prison of the heart, will not be fooled by some mere mundane sheaths. The creature will sense the keys anyway."
"Is this just because we want to give Windblade to Noxin and not you?" Huzair asked and Ahlear shook his head quickly.
"I have already declined the offer of the blade once. I do not feel I have earned such a right," the mummy assured him. "But I do disagree that Noxin should get hold of one so fast for the same reason. He has done nothing to earn the party's trust yet. And he has been with the party itself for only a few hours now..." Ahlear looked up at Noxin and the half-giant flashed him a smile. Morier sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"Do we trust Noxin enough to give it to him? That may be questionable," the albino amitted. "Do we have a better option? I certainly don't see one."
"If Noxin and Ahlear, the mummy, are both willing to come with us through the gate, with the intent to help free Dridana, then I think they also have to be considered worthy of a sword," Shamalin said, looking at the two candidates. They could hardly have been more different: Noxin was huge, fairly bursting with vitality; Ahlear was the withered embodiment of death itself.
"We don't have the time and I don't have the energy to debate this all night long," Morier sighed, walking over to the newcomer. "Noxin, if you will pledge yourself to follow our cause, we would gladly have your might alongside our own. You are more than welcome to your share of whatever treasure awaits our success - it stands to be rather large, I believe - and if you so desire, you may have a cut of mine. Treasure is not why I walk this path. One of us must wield Windblade through the coming tests, and you seem most well-fit to do that."
"I'm always lookin' for a nice tussle," the half-giant said gravely. Then smiling again he added, "Treasure's not bad either."
"Give it to me," Morier said to Huzair, holding out his hand. The mage gave it to him and Morier in turn handed Windblade to Noxin, cautioning, "Misuse it and I will let Huzair set your testicles on fire while you sleep."
"Do not imagine I would not do it either," the wizard said, causing with a word flames to dance on his fingertips. The half-giant looked disdainfully at the mage's display.
"You're gonna need a bigger fire," Noxin grinned, flicking his eyes meaningfully at his groin. Huzair looked at him incredulous for a moment and then a laugh burst from his lips.
After tending to Anania as best she could, Shamalin spent time reviewing Ledare's journal and other writings for any clues that might help them. She found some notes that purported to be the actual words of an angel that had visited Ledare and the others in a town called Hillsville Junction. They read:
'After her forces were defeated and her son locked away,
the goddess of decay and disease ripped the living heart
from the goddess of things that grow in the earth. Aphyx bound
Dridana's essence to a red gemstone and secreted it away so that
her spark could not be reborn into a new godform. For the
Queen of Rot knew that the Fruitful One would always oppose her
and thus has Brogine's twin languished since the Age of Pestilence."
And then, pondering this information, she rested.
Waterday, the 16th of Readying, 1270 AE
The early morning light drifted feebly through the portal that lead by a steep climb upward to the surface. Dust motes twirled silently through the air, reflecting the light and lending the hall an eerie otherworldly quality. A shadow suddenly blocked the light coming in and a few moments later a dark gray horse with a cloaked rider entered the hall where the party was sleeping under the watchful eye of the mummy - who, of course, had no need for sleep any longer.
The horse's hooves made no sound as it moved wraithlike into the room, its procession seeming very ominous indeed.
The rider stayed astride the horse whilst the mummy looked at the newcomer askance. After a few moments Ahlear moved quietly to the rider and they began speaking in hushed voices. All the while, the rider stayed mounted during the conversation, talking down at the mummy in conspiratorial tones. The man seemed utterly composed while Ahlear began to grow more agitated by degree.
"No!" the mummy shouted at last, breaking the silence and waking the rest of the party from there well-earned sleep.
"Who the hell're you?!" Noxin demanded as he rose, hammer ready in his fist. The cloaked figure raised a finger.
"One moment, please," the man said calmly, but loud enough for the others to hear. "My business with Ahlear is not yet concluded."
The mummy seemed to deflate after his outburst and bowed his head with a dry rattling sigh. After another moment's pause, he removed the necklace and ring off his person and gave them to the newcomer. They spoke some more, the newcomer looking dubiously at the two items he has been given. He did not make any move to place them on his person, but neither did he throw them away or pocket them. Instead, he kept them all the while in his hand during the remainder of their conversation.
While the two figures spoke on the far side of the chamber, the others took the opportunity to study the rider who had somehow managed to get a horse down the steep stairs leading up to the island above. His armor seemed made in the same style as the armor Ahlear wore, albeit more solidly built, reinforced in places with chain rather than leather. But the same large leathery plates predominated.
Beneath the armor, he was dressed in what looked like a full regalia uniform, decorated everywhere with heavy filigree, the jacket visible beneath his armor holding many braided ropes of gold and white. Sandy white gloves and high, gleaming black horseman's riding boots that reached up to and then over his knees completed the impression of a military officer. A hooded, weathered cloak of dark brown leather concealed his features mostly but it could be seen that he had a heavy mustache and long hair hanging over his shoulders.
The horse itself seemed insubstantial and ghostly but bore its rider without any apparent effort. It did not move at all, and they had all been around enough horses in their lifetimes to know that the thing wasn't a real horse.
After the conversation with Ahlear has died out, the rider turned to the group and nodded. "You were saying?" he prompted, calmly awaiting their questions.
