Part the Two-Hundredth
In which: a reunion! Or two, depending on how you count.
(as recorded by Fajitas)
The sun has nearly set when the party docks their skiff on the shores of the island they fervently hope is Barnabus’s. The two sailors they have kept as prisoners have, thus far, fallen over themselves to be helpful to the party. No doubt the dark looks Thatch keeps throwing at them have had something to do with this.
A path leads away from the dock, into the forested depths of the island.
Reyu wildshapes into an owl and does aerial reconnaissance before the light fades. She returns shortly, to announce that the path leads to a cottage a short way away. Assuming this to be the home of Barnabus, she did not investigate too closely; it seldom pays to investigate an archmage’s home too closely.
After a brief discussion, the party decides to wait until daybreak to approach. They suspect that Barnabus is the only thing on the island, but given their experiences so far, they opt not to chance traveling in the dark.
And it is just as well that they do wait. For a tiny bird suddenly swoops excitedly towards them… and transforms into a frantic Kiara.
“Thereyouarethereyourareohmygodsohmygodsohmygods!”
“Be calm,” Anvil demands, to a predictable lack of results. Eva and Reyu make more reasonable attempts to calm her.
“It’s all right. It’s all right,” Reyu says soothingly in Elven. “You’ve found us. We’re here. Tell us what happened.”
“The Count! He said he was gonna take us to see Barnabus, and all of a sudden there were two people there and they looked alike, but they weren’t Barnabus, and then they cast and suddenly I couldn’t move and Annika fell asleep, and then a bunch of guards came and took her away, and they tied me up and took me away too, and they told me that I was a hostage and nothing bad would happen to me or to Annika as long as she made magic items for the Count, and then they took me to this island with a village full of other people who I think were also hostages, and then as soon as they weren’t looking I turned into a bird and flew away to try to find Annika, but I couldn’t find Annika, so I tried to find you, and I had just about given up when I suddenly saw your skiff way out there, and I came and it was you, and what are we gonna do?”
Kiara is forced to slow down and repeat the story a few times before everyone has it.
“Wait a minute,” Eva says. “He took you as a hostage to ensure Annika’s behavior?”
“Yes.”
“He thought that Annika was a more unique addition to his collection than you? That’s… almost funny.”
“Almost,” Thatch growls. But everyone is quietly thankful that they were clever enough to keep the Count from learning Kiara’s nature.
“So what are we gonna do?” Kiara demands. “We have to rescue Annika!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Thatch mutters. “We will.”
“We believe this to be the island of Barnabus,” Anvil informs her. “It is our hope that, once we have delivered our invitation to him, he will aid us in rescuing Annika and escaping the Islands.”
“Will he help us kill the Count?” Kiara asks. “I think he really, really deserves it.”
Everyone is surprised by the young girl’s sudden bloodthirstiness. “We shall… see,” says Reyu.
Kiara nods, content, for the moment with that answer. Then she looks around. “Where’s Lira?” she asks.
There is a long silence, as everyone in the party prays that someone else will answer her.
###
At first light, Anvil, Eva, and Reyu follow the path into the woods. Thatch remains behind with the skiff, ensuring the continued cooperation of their two captive sailors. Kiara remains with him. Or, more precisely, she remains with Euro, standing vigil over Lira’s body. The sailors seem almost as frightened by the look on her face as they are by the look on Thatch’s.
The cottage is not terribly far from the dock. It is large, fairly picturesque. Secluded and well shaded. There is a small garden, which gives the appearance of having been tended… well, with a greatsword.
Smoke comes from one of the several chimneys.
Anvil strides forward and knocks at the door. “We come seeking the wizard Barnabus,” he declares, loudly.
An elderly voice responds from within.
“Yes, yes. Just bring it around back, won’t you?”
The party exchanges startled glances. Without any better ideas, they make their way around to the back of the cottage, where there is another door. Anvil knocks again at this one, and the elderly voice responds, “Oh, no need for formality. Just bring it on in, there’s a good chap.”
Though not quite what the party had expected, the words do indeed seem to be an invitation. Anvil opens the door.
It opens into a small workroom. A long table is covered with all manner of objects, some strange, some quite mundane. Bits of wood, cloth, and metal, as well as boots, belts, cloaks, daggers, almost anything the party can imagine is strewn about, in and among powders and feathers and strange bubbling concoctions. The walls are covered with shelves from top to bottom; each shelf is cluttered with an even wider array of random objects. There are several piles of—for lack of a more descriptive word—stuff scattered about, balancing with varying degrees of precariousness.
Reyu, curious, casts detect magic.
Almost everything in the room glows with an arcane enchantment.
“Hello?” Eva calls out. “Anyone there?”
“Just leave it there. I’ll get to it later,” the voice calls out from another room.
“Leave what?” Eva asks.
There is a pause, then a shuffle, and a man enters the workroom.
It is Barnabus.
At least, he looks exactly like the “Barnabus” that they met at the Count’s Keep. The same long, white beard, the same plain robes, the same face. Their posture is somewhat different, however. The other Barnabus appeared more… poised. This one walks with a staff and hobbles slightly. He seems much older.
He peers at the party. “Leave what?” he repeats. “Isn’t it Thursday?”
“It is not,” Anvil informs him.
“Hm. Didn’t think it was. Truth be told, I was a bit surprised when I heard you lot. Seemed early for Thursday.”
“Were you… expecting us?” Reyu asks.
“Well, no, not if it’s not Thursday. Running early, are you? Change to the schedule?”
There is a pause. “Pray tell,” Anvil finally says, “who do you think we are?”
“You’re here with the weekly delivery, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Oh. My mistake.”
“Do we look like the people who make the weekly delivery?” Eva asks.
“Well, no, now that you mention it. Though it’s so seldom I see anyone else. Are you friends of the Count, then?”
“No,” Anvil says, flatly.
Barnabus frowns at them. “You’re not here from the Count?”
“No.”
“And I don’t know any of you, do I?”
“No.”
“So what you’re saying is: you are complete strangers who have entered my house uninvited?”