NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ellinor" data-source="post: 5454231" data-attributes="member: 14561">19x02On Sunday night, Nyoko lay awake on her mat at the Inn of Comfortable Repose, cataloguing the events of the last week in her mind and dreaming, ever so slightly, of the dormitories in the Adept House.  Here at the Inn, the others had turned in for the evening.  The Adept House would still be bustling, she knew, as no one went to bed before the Midnight services.  But she was needed here, to Witness the heathens’ inquest and, in the end, to Testify.To say this inquest was unusual was understating the matter considerably.  Not just because of its ambitious nature, but also because of the shortage of information at hand.  Gradually, the Inquisitors were remedying that.  Kormick had volunteered to investigate the Military; Savina had—fittingly—volunteered to find out more about the Alirrians.  Tavi would work toward establishing himself in Cauldron society, as Savina had begun to do, which would give them access to information on a variety of topics.  Mena would continue making friends with the Ehktians; and Twiggy would continue her library research.  So far, they knew little.  By this time next week, Nyoko hoped, they would know more. The prayer bells  rang their call to services.  Nyoko heeded them.Week 2, Monday I know a cop bar when I see one, thought Kormick, and that’s a cop bar.  Let’s see what we can learn.Inside The Inn Of Temporary Respite, a few men and women—some in military uniforms, some in civilian clothes, but with the formal bearing of those for whom “off-duty” had little meaning— sat at low tables, drinking rice wine and laughing.  Kormick plunked down at an empty table and ordered “some of that clear rice wine and some of those salty, crunchy things, what are they called…”“Wontons,” said the barman. “Yes, those.  And some rice wine,” he repeated.After a few drinks—and after realizing, not for the first time, This Sovereign rice wine is really quite a fascinating beverage—Kormick slid toward the table beside him and listened.  The foursome was chatting about their commanding officer, who had apparently reprimanded one of their number with, Kormick gathered, debatable cause.“Sergeants,” he interjected.  “They’re the same everywhere.  I’m from Dar Und, and I bet your stories and my stories are exactly the same.”  He bowed in the slightly-drunk version of what Nyoko’s colleagues had taught him.  “Kormick.”They introduced themselves, with looks that said “this man is genially crazy.”  Just so, thought Kormick.“But the big bosses,” Kormick continued, “the big bosses are the ones you really have to look out for.  Less likely to yell, more likely to stab.  And never as smart as they think they are.”“There is where we differ, Kormick-san,” said a young man who had introduced himself as Chibu.  “Our ‘big boss,’ Lady Mochizuki, is smart beyond telling.  She is a wise commander, and a strategic expert.  They say she is the best at playing Go since Rikitaru himself.”“Playing Go?  Does she go, or does she stay?”They rolled their eyes with the “genially crazy” look again.  “Go is a game of strategy, played with pieces on a board.  People play it in their homes, at gathering places, and in tournaments.  Lady Mochizuki has won many tournaments.  She is favored to win the tournament on Ehkt’s Judgment,” Chibu continued.  “Tournament?”“Yes.”  Another of the soldiers jumped in.  “On Ehkt’s Judgment there are all sorts of competitions.  Wrestling, arcane wrestling, feats of strength, feats of endurance . . . and Go.  It is a great festival.  You will still be in Cauldron for Ehkt’s Judgment, then?”“Without doubt,” replied Kormick.###TuesdayMena walked into the Temple of the Keepers of the Flame.  Like the Temple of the Keepers of the Light, it bore an Ehktian symbol on the doorframe and a torch outside.  In all other respects, they could not have been more different.  The athletic aromas of sweat and exertion hit Mena as soon as the door opened.  A few Sovereign men gathered inside; some were doing calisthenics, others were wrestling in a style Mena had not seen before.  “I am Brother Spark,” said Mena to one, after he had grasped his opponent’s belt and pushed the large man down just outside a circle inscribed on the ground.  “Can you show me how to do that move?”###WednesdayTavi looked out onto the courtyard of the Adept House.  It was a lovely summer afternoon, and a brief but welcome respite from his rigorous program of training in Sovereign etiquette and spreading rumors about himself.  A necessary respite, Tavi thought, as he put down his pen, sealed the envelope with a small ball of wax, and wrote “Diego di Raprezzi, di Raprezzi estate, Pol Henna” in neat letters on the front.  I would have liked to write this sooner.  Tavi envied Kormick’s ability to send letters via the teleport network—nearly every day, the Justicar teleported missives to Brother Scribe and, Tavi assumed, whomever Kormick reported to in King Four Fathom’s cohort—but that was not an option for Tavi.  His mother would certainly be intercepting anything that came through that way.  But, teleport or not, this had to be sent now:  Tavi could not depend on his brother returning to Cauldron, and this was a matter of some delicacy, requiring that groundwork be laid before Tavi returned to Pol Henna.  He would have to entrust the note to the Water Walkers’ mail system.  After all, that was how Savina posted letters to her father—Tavi had seen her do so just the day before.  And Mother probably hasn’t co-opted the Water Walkers . . . Tavi thought.###Thursday Savina put on a new dress, made of lovely new Sovereign silk, and went to Tea.  Parties in Cauldron, she soon learned, were different from parties in Pol Henna—quieter, and with different beverages—but also the same.  As in Pol Henna, the servants and slaves stood in the corners, quietly gossiping with each other.  Arden was there now, watching, listening, smiling a little at one point, frowning and murmuring something else at another.  I wonder what they talk about, Savina thought idly, as she introduced herself to their host.And as in Pol Henna, the partygoers sipped beverages and discussed matters of the day.  Today, the matter was Savina.  Where was she from?  What had brought her to Cauldron?  Where was she staying?  What did she expect to do with her time here?  Savina answered, happily.  The partygoers were lovely people, and their interest was genuine.  Savina felt comfortable with them, with high society.  She could get used to this, she thought.“Where are all the Alirrians?”  she asked, when it was her turn to ask questions.  “I mean, since the Affirmation, I would think there would be Alirrians.  Where are they?”The room was quiet.   Finally, one young woman explained.  “It’s not that there aren’t any, it’s just that . . . there aren’t any.  Because of that <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4805630-post72.html" target="_blank">unpleasantness years ago,</a> you know.  There are rumors of Alirrians who call themselves the Underground River, but there are no Alirrian temples, so they’d have nowhere to go.”“But . . . what about the leader of the Alirrians, in the Synod?  Where does he worship?”“Brother Trickling Fountain?”  the girl smiled, clearly amused by Savina’s question.  “There weren’t any Alirrians available, so the Mother Superior appointed one of her nephews.  Kawazu Isao.”“Oh.”  Savina bit her lip.  “Who does the healing in Cauldron, then?”The partygoers explained that several groups shared responsibility for healing in Cauldron.  Many Adepts were skilled at healing and massage; the Extinguishers of the Flame also concerned themselves with health matters, and of course there were the Twilight Sisters, who dealt with the seriously ill.  Savina nodded and listened politely, but on the inside, she felt cold.I was wrong.  I can’t get used to this, Savina thought. ###FridayTwiggy stood up to stretch out the crick in her neck.  The cushioned benches in the library were remarkable—Twiggy’s back felt better than it should, after two weeks of daily study in the Adepts’ library—but the only cure for this stiff neck would be an answer to something in the prophecy, and so far, the books were not forthcoming.  She had been focusing on histories that might shed light on the Sheh, or the madwoman who had been killing baby girls 75 years ago, whose ravings had sounded like the prophecy . . . but all she had really learned was that the Sheh was a tribe that had lived in the Ketkath, that had, with much effort by the Inquisition, ultimately been eradicated.  It didn’t feel like much of a research victory.  And Twiggy’s neck hurt.The loremaster, Ahiko, returned with yet another tome as big as his torso.  Twiggy couldn’t stand it.  “Ahiko-san,” she asked, thinking of Kormick's news about the head of the Military ring, “are you familiar with the game of Go?”The loremaster’s wizened face brightened and grew a grin.  “My dear heathen lady,” he bubbled, “have you been experiencing our pastimes?”“No,” Twiggy offered, “but I think I would like to.”Ahiko pulled a wooden board and a pouch of white and black pebbles from behind his desk.  “You’ll be a natural, Twiggy-san,” he said, placing the board on the library table to reveal a scored grid-shape on its face.  “I’m sure of it.” ###SaturdayAs the second week of summer drew to a close, Tavi assessed the group’s progress.  Everything was groundwork, he thought.  No measurable progress on the Tide or the Prophecy.  He was musing about how he might speed up the process of making contact with Borders when the party was summoned by Lord Ono.  Ono looked even more exhausted than he had before.  Rucksacks under the eyes, Tavi thought.  Not a good sign.Nyoko offered Lord Ono a pouch of high-quality tea from the Adept house.  Ono opened the pouch and took a deep, satisfying sniff.  “Bless you,” he said, with a deep sigh, and set the tea atop a precarious mountain of papers, touching it gently as if willing it to stay in place. “More problems,” he said.  “There was an incident last night.  The Clerk’s office was broken into, and the files on our prisoner were ransacked.  The man is buried in paperwork and dungeons . . . but some way, somehow, someone knows he is here."</blockquote>

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