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<blockquote data-quote="havenstone" data-source="post: 5465055" data-attributes="member: 61094"><p><strong>Un-Splitting the Party</strong></p><p></p><p><strong><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">THE MORNING AFTER </span></strong><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Atrix and Darren <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5384330-post131.html" target="_blank">redeem Lucian from the Arena</a>, they hear of their friends’ bloody <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5393558-post140.html" target="_blank">escape</a> from the Tang estate. In a city still stunned from the shaming of the Imperial Palace and the <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5370202-post129.html" target="_blank">burning of the Sufza qohei</a>, the news hits like a landslide: in the middle of the night, a dozen Northern slaves killed their guards, fought their way out of the Minister of State’s home compound, and then disappeared without trace. </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The Minister of Security, Goru, immediately announces that all Northerners throughout the Empire are to be beaten <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5301947-post122.html" target="_blank">again</a>; that they must at all times wear heavy metal shackles around their legs; and that their children are to be taken away from them and raised with other, less rebellious slave races. The main roads out of Tziwan are closed for a day, and a Legion is called out into the streets to join the city watch in hunting for the escapees. Grim rumors fly around Tziwan that one more escape will result in the excruciation of all remaining Northern slaves and a punitive re-invasion of the North. </span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Darren is the first to speak their more specific fear aloud: “They have to know that we were all sold from the same cage. So they’re sure to come hunting for whoever bought the White Death.” </span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The Northerners can do little but keep moving, following their plan of never spending more than one night in the same wayhouse. That first day, the watch searches every inn in Tziwan for escapees, but the three friends maintain their alibi as Chramic merchant-prentices well enough to fool their new innkeeper. He serves them wine and plies them with questions about their trading visits in the North – “Is it true that Northerners are so unruly that they settle all disputes by trying to murder each other?” – while the guardsmen scour every room in his hostelry.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">After a few more days of lying low, Darren risks returning to the drinking houses of the docks to find <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5370202-post129.html" target="_blank">Seraband, the friendly sea-trader</a>. To his relief, as far as he can tell, no one has yet asked the garrulous Chramic merchant any questions about them. Despite his general anxiety, Darren’s <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4422228-post31.html" target="_blank">fascination</a> with ocean travel keeps him at Seraband’s table. He sips his rice beer and takes mental notes as Musfarzan, a Chramic shipwright, and Gatze, a Kardei ship’s mage, argue about the best way to proof a vessel against breaking up in a tidal surge.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><strong><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">AS THE FUROR</span></strong><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"> over the second escape grudgingly subsides and the Legions return to their barracks, Atrix, Darren, and Lucian almost begin to relax. Then, eleven days after their triumph at the Arena, the three friends’ hearts are set hammering by an unexpected late-night knock on the door of their room. Lucian flattens himself against the wall, a sword-length piece of wood in his hand. Atrix cracks the door. He is both relieved and surprised to see Chingan Dai hovering in the hall; they haven’t seen the Szianar talemonger since Seraband introduced them in the winehouse more than two weeks earlier. “Sir?” he says politely.</span> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Chingan Dai pauses, apparently waiting for Atrix to welcome him in. When no invitation is forthcoming, he nods slowly. “Seraband told me you were somewhere in the area, young man. I was wondering what you and your friend decided to invest in. There is a story going around that two young Chramics bought a slave called the White Death from the Arena. You will understand that when I heard that, my mind turned to you.”</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Ah,” Atrix says, trying not to sound flustered. “To be honest, we haven’t really decided yet what we're going to invest in.”</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Chingan Dai smiles. “Of course. If it <em>were</em> high-value slaves... well, I don’t need to tell you that it’s a touchy time to be owning a Northerner, and I was wondering what I could offer you to take him off your hands. I know a man who could use a good bodyguard – the best the Arena has to offer.”</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“I don’t want to waste your time, sir,” Atrix demurs, trying desperately to bluff. “We haven’t bought this Arena slave you’re looking for. Apologies.”</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The graying Szianar nods again, chewing his lip and looking slightly puzzled. Then he blinks twice and looks up, his mournful eyes suddenly ablaze. Atrix feels the sick certainty that Chingan Dai has guessed their real identities. His hand is already going for his sword hilt when the Szianar speaks with barely contained excitement.</span></p><p> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“If I told you that I’d heard about you from Ontaya and Ash, might that change your answer?”</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="havenstone, post: 5465055, member: 61094"] [b]Un-Splitting the Party[/b] [B][FONT=Verdana]THE MORNING AFTER [/FONT][/B][FONT=Verdana]Atrix and Darren [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5384330-post131.html"]redeem Lucian from the Arena[/URL], they hear of their friends’ bloody [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5393558-post140.html"]escape[/URL] from the Tang estate. In a city still stunned from the shaming of the Imperial Palace and the [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5370202-post129.html"]burning of the Sufza qohei[/URL], the news hits like a landslide: in the middle of the night, a dozen Northern slaves killed their guards, fought their way out of the Minister of State’s home compound, and then disappeared without trace. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The Minister of Security, Goru, immediately announces that all Northerners throughout the Empire are to be beaten [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5301947-post122.html"]again[/URL]; that they must at all times wear heavy metal shackles around their legs; and that their children are to be taken away from them and raised with other, less rebellious slave races. The main roads out of Tziwan are closed for a day, and a Legion is called out into the streets to join the city watch in hunting for the escapees. Grim rumors fly around Tziwan that one more escape will result in the excruciation of all remaining Northern slaves and a punitive re-invasion of the North. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Darren is the first to speak their more specific fear aloud: “They have to know that we were all sold from the same cage. So they’re sure to come hunting for whoever bought the White Death.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The Northerners can do little but keep moving, following their plan of never spending more than one night in the same wayhouse. That first day, the watch searches every inn in Tziwan for escapees, but the three friends maintain their alibi as Chramic merchant-prentices well enough to fool their new innkeeper. He serves them wine and plies them with questions about their trading visits in the North – “Is it true that Northerners are so unruly that they settle all disputes by trying to murder each other?” – while the guardsmen scour every room in his hostelry.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]After a few more days of lying low, Darren risks returning to the drinking houses of the docks to find [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/5370202-post129.html"]Seraband, the friendly sea-trader[/URL]. To his relief, as far as he can tell, no one has yet asked the garrulous Chramic merchant any questions about them. Despite his general anxiety, Darren’s [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4422228-post31.html"]fascination[/URL] with ocean travel keeps him at Seraband’s table. He sips his rice beer and takes mental notes as Musfarzan, a Chramic shipwright, and Gatze, a Kardei ship’s mage, argue about the best way to proof a vessel against breaking up in a tidal surge. [/FONT] [B][FONT=Verdana]AS THE FUROR[/FONT][/B][FONT=Verdana] over the second escape grudgingly subsides and the Legions return to their barracks, Atrix, Darren, and Lucian almost begin to relax. Then, eleven days after their triumph at the Arena, the three friends’ hearts are set hammering by an unexpected late-night knock on the door of their room. Lucian flattens himself against the wall, a sword-length piece of wood in his hand. Atrix cracks the door. He is both relieved and surprised to see Chingan Dai hovering in the hall; they haven’t seen the Szianar talemonger since Seraband introduced them in the winehouse more than two weeks earlier. “Sir?” he says politely.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] Chingan Dai pauses, apparently waiting for Atrix to welcome him in. When no invitation is forthcoming, he nods slowly. “Seraband told me you were somewhere in the area, young man. I was wondering what you and your friend decided to invest in. There is a story going around that two young Chramics bought a slave called the White Death from the Arena. You will understand that when I heard that, my mind turned to you.”[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Ah,” Atrix says, trying not to sound flustered. “To be honest, we haven’t really decided yet what we're going to invest in.”[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Chingan Dai smiles. “Of course. If it [I]were[/I] high-value slaves... well, I don’t need to tell you that it’s a touchy time to be owning a Northerner, and I was wondering what I could offer you to take him off your hands. I know a man who could use a good bodyguard – the best the Arena has to offer.”[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“I don’t want to waste your time, sir,” Atrix demurs, trying desperately to bluff. “We haven’t bought this Arena slave you’re looking for. Apologies.”[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The graying Szianar nods again, chewing his lip and looking slightly puzzled. Then he blinks twice and looks up, his mournful eyes suddenly ablaze. Atrix feels the sick certainty that Chingan Dai has guessed their real identities. His hand is already going for his sword hilt when the Szianar speaks with barely contained excitement.[/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“If I told you that I’d heard about you from Ontaya and Ash, might that change your answer?”[/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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