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| − | [ST] As Wheel and Avir make their way through the Emerald to Hope's home, the residents are waking up, roused to horror by the discovery of the slain guards and the Quiet woman. The Mother and Astrid leave to try to get them into some kind of order, while Ulf, Erdrick, and the other guardsmen fan out to patrol for any further incursions.
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| − | [Avir] Avir wonders what Helgara would say, as he trudges through the snow. What if they had been together during the attack? But he knew that Quiet woman had something to do with this. One villain knew another, perhaps.
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| − | [ST] Hope's house is no larger than the others in the Emerald, a rectangular structure with wattle and daub walls a stout tiled roof that extends well over the walls of the house to prevent snow from caving in the roof. A tunnel has been painstakingly hacked to the door. In the hollow provided by the overhanging eaves, a pile of firewood and reindeer chips sits to one side of the neat little door.
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| − | [ST] On the other, a smiling totem of stone about knee-high. It is a Well-Wisher, a minor luck god favored among some of the Haslanti Tribes. Wind chimes dangle above the door.
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| − | [Wheel] He takes his customary place a step behind and one to the side, watching. He could think he was deferring to him, and he was for the while, but it was hard to keep an eye on a man next to you without craning your neck.
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| − | [ST] "Hey! What do you think you're doing!"
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| − | [ST] Helgara comes up the bath behind them, huffing slightly, her hair still tangled and disturbed from slumber. She glares at the pair. "Huh?"
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| − | [Avir] Avir nods his head to her politely. "We just need to take a brief look into Hope's rooms. It won't take long."
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| − | [ST] "Why?" The set of her shoulders is suspicous, angry, even though her face is dim and unreadable in the weak light. "She hasn't done anything wrong."
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| − | [Avir] "We are pursuing various theories," he answered, still polite. "There is concern she may be related to the troublemaker...even if she is not at fault herself." Not that he believed that. "I'm afraid we can't say anything more now."
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| − | [ST] "Don't make trouble for her," Helgara continues, stubbornly. "I'm not going to let you in there."
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| − | [Avir] "Why Helgara....I thought you only had contempt for the Quiet."
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| − | [Wheel] He grins, coldly. "I don't think you can stop us."
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| − | [ST] "You'd be surprised, you lame old goat," her eyes flash with fury, but they are directed not at Wheel, but Avir. "Shut up. It's no concern of yours. She's no concern of yours."
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| − | [Avir] "I'm afraid she is," Avir says, studying her. Perhaps he had drawn his circle of suspicion too narrowly. The deaths only began when Helgara had arrived. "If she has no connection to this, the quickest way to find that out is to investigate her home. I will apologize most profusely."
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| − | [ST] "You're not going in there, damn it! I don't care who told you, it's none of your gods damned business-"
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| − | [ST] "Helgara, it is fine." Hope says, stepping up behind her. She places a hand on the other woman's shoulder, only to have it shrugged away sharply. "Do not say something you will regret. Do not."
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| − | [Avir] "Too late for that, I'm afraid." Avir's hand nudges the strap on his scabbard. "Told us what?"
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| − | [Wheel] He puts his hand to the door and pushes. If there was trouble in the room Helgara'd be off balance for Avir's sword. Or more probably it would just get them in faster and with the right authority.
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| − | [ST] "Who told you you could do it? She didn't do anything." Hope's eyes widen as Avir's hand strays toward his sword, and she sharply pulls Helgara's arm back. A spasm of rage crosses the shorter woman's face. "Fine," she snarls. "Do what you must."
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| − | [Avir] Avir bows to her solemnly- only knowledge of him makes her sure of mockery- and enters the room after Wheel.
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| − | [ST] Hope cringes as her lock breaks with an audible snap. Murder dances in Helgara's eyes. "Come on," she says roughly, all but dragging Hope to the threshold.
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| − | [ST] Within, dim light comes from a low burning fire in the clay chimney at one end of the single long room. The area is minimally appointed - a pair of low chairs, a bureau and a chest against one wall, a few shelves holding wooden plates, and a large, heavily scuffed table. Two plates and the remains of a carefully laid out meal still linger there. Sleeping furs are arranged in front of the fire, and remain in disarray.
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| − | [ST] Opposite the fireplace, a loft rises into the gloom of the eaves, accessed by a listing wooden ladder. Beneath it, a reindeer roams in an enclosure that can be opened to the outside, grunting softly.
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| − | [Avir] "Remember we need the cooperation of these people," Avir says under his breath to Wheel. He starts with the containers- Hope doesn't strike him as a sophisticated conspirator. She is neat enough, careful enough, that she is easy to search- folded clothes lifted from chests and drawers. He finds a curl of hair the color of Helgara's, and puts it back where Hope had hidden it under a prayer shawl. What a mess they were.
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| − | [Wheel] "I take the loft?" he half asked. He hated ladders, but didn't much expect Avir to be fond of them either. Besides, up there he could keep an eye on the man while he looked. He didn't wantAvir alone with any evidence.
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| − | [Avir] "Yeah."
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| − | [Wheel] He got up there slowly and tossed it with quick efficiency, always keeping his head high enough to ahve Avir in his sight.
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| − | [ST] Avir sorts through the materials on the ground floor, quickly and efficiently rifling through drawers and trunks. At the bottom of one of the drawers, he finds a collection of charcoal drawings on good paper, many of them of Helgara in various states of undress. The reindeer pokes its head through the bars of the enclosure, chuffing at him.
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| − | [ST] In the doorway, Hope looks at the floor, fingers twining in her skirts. Helgara even seems to redden a little, though the flush might merely be anger.
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| − | [Avir] Avir coughs and replaces them, going hurridely through the rest of the drawer.
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| − | [ST] The loft is full of discarded and broken possessions that look to have been long forgotten by Hope herself - a wooden marionette, a broken wagon wheel, torn blankets, moth-eaten clothing that looks to have belonged to her late husband. The loft does not fill the entire width of the hut; the rest is blocked off with a slatted wooden wall.
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| − | [ST] The loft must have been added later.
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| − | [ST] If Wheel is looking for a smoking gun, he doesn't find it as he roots around in the junk, disturbing a fat rat which runs squealing from him. Then, just as he is about to give up, something comes rolling out of the darkness. A tiny metal cylinder with a removable lid, tightly sealed. A runic symbol is scribed atop its lid.
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| − | [Wheel] He quickly rummages in that direction, wanting to make sure he checked there weren't more while he remembered exactly where it had come rom. That done, he straightens, calling to Avir. When he catches the other's eye he carefully tosses the cylinder down. Probably a bad idea to break it.
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| − | [Avir] Avir catches it by awkwardly cradling his arms together."Got it." Only Soldas would send two cripples on a mission.What a fuck-up he was. He examines the seal and the symbol on top.
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| − | [ST] As she sees Avir catch the can, Hope visibly pales, tears glimmering unshed in her eyes. Helgara glares, taking a step or two into the house. "What the fuck is that?"
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| − | [Avir] "Good question. I think I know, but let's hear the confirmation." Avir smiles pleasantly at Hope.
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| − | [ST] Tears course down the Quiet woman's face as she slumps back against the table, sobbing miserably. It is as clear an admission of guilt as any. "I don't kn-know."
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| − | [Avir] "Tell us. Everything. A woman died here tonight."
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| − | [ST] "That wasn't supposed to- it wasn't, it wasn't, I swear."
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| − | [ST] Helgara watches the display silently for a moment, looking between the weeping woman and the can, her face growing curiously still. When she speaks, it is very quiet.
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| − | [Avir] He says it gently. He would do this the easy way if he could. The easy way still left a hard way as backup. The bug in his stomach squirms in anticipation. "I understand you didn't want this. Why don't you tell me what you did want?" He gestures to a seat at the table.
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| − | [ST] "Hope... that looks like one of the cans Astrid keeps in the storehouse. Is it?" Avir might well be on the Silver Chair for all she heeds him.
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| − | [ST] "Did you steal it from there?" Her voice hardens, rises. "Did you steal it using my key? Did you STEAL it?"
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| − | [Avir] Avir grabs her shoulder with his good hand. "Maybe you should wait outside," he says, his voice ice-cool.
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| − | [ST] "I was going to bring it b-back, Helgara," Hope says quietly, moving towards her seat, she does not look at the other woman. "I wasn't- I didn't- mean to, I had to, I-"
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| − | [Wheel] He raps at the wall quietly, not wanting the women below to know what he was doing. He was pretty sure, at this point. Someone had left a compartment behind there. Or a room, maybe. He gave up his view of Avir to kneel by the foot of the wall and slowly pry the wood apart. They'd used cheap nails, not enough of a head to stop him from pulling the wood apart with the nails passing through their holes.
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| − | [ST] Helgara steps away from Avir, shrugging off his hand. The sound of her fist striking the side of Hope's face is like a branch cracking in a sharp wind. As the other woman falls to the floor, Helgara kicks her in the ribs, again and again, screaming, sobbing.
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| − | [ST] "You bitch! You thief! You lying kneeler BITCH I'll KILL YOU!"
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| − | [ST] The wood gives easily as Wheel pulls on it. It was obviously shoddily pulled apart, and intended to be only a visual concealant. A tiny room is revealed beyond the wall. He spies something inside about the time the fighting starts downstairs.
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| − | [Wheel] He took the chance to rip the slat he'd been working off the wall. Avir could handle himself, and it sounded like Hope deserved the beating.
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| − | [ST] The space behind the wall is narrow, with barely enough room to accomodate and adult on their hands and knees. A low wooden table lies there. A metal bowl rests in its center, its surface scarred and pitted with sweet smelling black resin. A wooden-framed sketch hangs above it, displaying the face of a young Quiet man.
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| − | [Avir] Avir snarls in frustration. He grabs Helgara by the back of her shirt and yanks her away from Hope. As she stumbles against the wall he draws his sword. "I need information," he says quietly. "I don't need you. Wait outside."
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| − | [Wheel] He enlarges the opening patiently, not wanting to have to squeeze in. Besides, that let more light in without him having to light a lamp.
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| − | [ST] Helgara surges back towards him, stopping short, her hands clawing at the air. Her face is red, running with tears as she struggles for some kind of composure. "She lied to me. She LIED to ME. I WAS GOOD TO HER!"
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| − | [Avir] Avir points to the door with his short sword. "Outside. I'll talk to you later."
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| − | [ST] Hope lies face down on the floor, coughing. Blood spackles the ground. Helgara nods, squaring her shoulders. As she moves past the other woman, she stomps savagely down, treading on her outstretched hand. "When he's done with you," she snarls, her entire body shaking, "You're MINE." The door slams behind her, drifting back open, raw wood showing where the lock has been split.
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| − | [Avir] Avir kneels down. "Sorry about that," he says. "She'll cool down." Maybe. He helps her back into the chair. "Now tell me what happened. Please."
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| − | [ST] Upstairs, Wheel has now excavated the chamber. It is full of straw and debris, and seems to have been built just to house the small shrine. It's likely Hope didn't even go inside to do... whatever she did there.
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| − | [ST] Hope is in utter misery. She puts her face down, pillowing it on her arms, her breathing pained and labored from the beating.
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| − | [ST] "It was Little Promise. He died. He must have died outside the Emerald. My nephew." She coughs. "He- he started to speak to his father, in his dreams. To my brother. Stoic Determination. He asked his father to come to the Shadowland at night, to see him. But he was trapped there."
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| − | [ST] "He couldn't get- get out. And he missed his father. He was sorry. And we had to break the ward, and I, I- I had Helgara's k-key, I did it, I stole it." She lets out a pain-wracked sob. "I stole it. She hates me. She hates me."
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| − | [Avir] Avir nods. He goes to the firepit, pulls off the kettle, and brews them both a cup of tea. "What happened then?"
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| − | [ST] "I used the blood to m-mark out the ward on one of the posts. Just one. Just like Little Promise said. I was going to bring it back."
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| − | [ST] "I was, I promise. I'm not a th-thief."
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| − | [ST] "And I built the shrine. Helgara said the Haslanti honor their d-dead, and I thought I could help him. He was so alone."
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| − | [Wheel] "Shrine's up here," he calls down, now that she had mentioned it.
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| − | [Avir] "Why did Little Promise ask you to do that?"
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| − | [Avir] He glances up at Wheel and nods. He would look at it himself.
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| − | [ST] "He wanted to come back to the village. He would always stand near the barn near Stoic Determination's home. And talk to us. He told Determination that if he let him out, he would forgive him. And he told me... but I would have helped him anyway. He was my nephew. I loved him."
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| − | [Avir] "Let him out of where?"
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| − | [ST] "The Shadowland. It was warded by the M-mother, and Astrid," the name comes out, even now, with a touch of bitterness to it. "Nothing could leave there as long as it stood. I just had to... to break a little of it, he said, and if I helped them, he would-" She sobs. "He would make her love me."
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| − | [Avir] Avir keeps his face carefully blank. "I see. Did Stoic Determination help you."
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| − | [ST] "Not in the- the theft. But yes. It was his son. He wanted to see him. But- a few weeks ago, Little Promise stopped coming. And these others started to appear. I didn't think, I didn't know, I didn't know they would hurt someone." She sniffs. "I am sorry. I have sinned. And for nothing. Little Promise is gone, and she loathes me worse than before."
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| − | [ST] "What will happen to me?"
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| − | [Wheel] He leases the shrine itself undistured, not wanting to bring more trouble, and watches quietly from the loft. Looked like Avir wasn't involved.
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| − | [Avir] "But you said that Little Promise told you to break a ward." Avir narrows his eyes at her. "It would be...bad....if you lied to me now."
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| − | [ST] "I'm not l-lying. He spoke to his father, and Stoic Determination brought me to him. He told me how. I... stole the blood. I scrubbed out the ward. Stoic Determination went with me, and walked away from the Shadowland holding his son's hand."
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| − | [ST] "I'm not lying, by the blessing of Yo Ping," she groans. "Why would I lie now, when all is lost?"
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| − | [Avir] "Then why break the ward tonight?"
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| − | [ST] "Tonight? I... I didn't break the ward tonight. It was a month ago." She raises her head from her arms. Her face is swelling already from the blow that Helgara landed. "I swear to you. I had nothing to do with that."
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| − | [Avir] "Very well. You may return to your rest." Helgara was next, the brat. "Wheel! Find anything else up there?"
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| − | [ST] "My... m-my rest?" She sounds incredulous, staring down at her own swollen fingers. "What will happen?"
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| − | [Avir] "That will be the Mother's decision." Avir shrugs.
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| − | [Wheel] "Nothing in the shrine looks too bad, but I didn't want to touch it. Bring a lamp up, or something."
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| − | [ST] "You're... I suppose you have to tell her. I am sorry. For Little Sunbeam. And your. Your m-men. I have sinned. I am sorry." She looks up at him, absurdly, as if she wants him to absolve her. "They say we sin most... most deeply for love."
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| − | [Wheel] Seemed like they'd found the root of the problem. Question now was whether it'd be enough to reinforce the wards around the shadowland, or if they'd have to put down some of the things that had gotten out.
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| − | [Avir] "Well, that's one reason, at least," Avir says philosophically. He wasn't sure why he sinned, really, except that he could. He takes the lamp from the table and leaves Hope in darkness to contemplate her sins. He crawls in after Wheel and raises the lamp high to get a good look.
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| − | [Wheel] Hope was out of it except for whatever the Quiet wanted to do to her. Which wouldn't be much, probably. Just exile or some such. Any other town, she'd be torn apart.
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| − | [ST] Avir's examination reveals the shrine for what it is. A simple thing, hastily constructed for minor sacrifices. It resembles thousands of similar shrines across the Haslanti League. The bowl's charring reveals the presence of burned offerings, which are used to grant ghosts gifts of Essence and power. The ghost of incense lingers. In any other situation, only the Immaculates would find sin
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| − | [ST] in this act, but by Hope's own admission, she unleashed the Shadowland.
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| − | [Avir] "Nothing here. Not even a ghost." He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and glares as it. He would have folded it into the shape of a cow, a traditional sacrifice, but... He makes, awkwardly, a crude paper sword. Good enough. He feeds the paper sword into the lampflame and then sets the burning offering into the bowl.
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| − | [Avir] Soon, it is nothing more than ash. "Hmm."
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| − | [ST] Very distantly, on the other end of the connection, Avir feels a faint stirring of something. Surprise, then fear, springing forth sharply, then vanishing as the connection diminishes
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| − | [Avir] "Little Promise. And he wasn't happy to get the offering."
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| − | [Avir] "We should talk to Helgara and that hypocritical old man. Tomorrow, we renew the wards."
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| − | [Wheel] "How many you think made it out of the Shadowland. Can we just close the barn door behind them, or do we have to go rope the horses?"
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| − | [Avir] Avir works his way through the metaphor. It takes him a moment. "The ghosts would be burnt away by dawn. They can only walk out of the Shadowland with physical form."
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| − | [Wheel] He nods. "Then we survive the night and reward and we can be back to important things?"
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| − | [Wheel] Hope was still sobbing quietly below them, thoroughly ignored.
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| − | [Avir] "More or less. We may need to deal with Little Promise somehow." He heads out the door. "Helgara!" he calls, as if to a puppy.
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| − | [ST] Helgara is only a few steps away, standing near a signpost. Blood drips from her shredded knuckles. She rounds on Avir poisonously. "What?"
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| − | [Avir] "You said she broke a promise. What promise?"
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| − | [Avir] "Or lied to you," he amends absently. He had a lot of things to think about; he couldn't waste brainpower on her exact words.
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| − | [ST] "I said she lied to me." Helgara flexes her hands as if she doesn't even feel it. "She told me she wasn't a bad person. She told me she would not hurt me. She told me." She inhales deeply. "That the kneelers. Weren't. Theives."
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| − | [ST] "They are thieves. Liars. I can't believe she stole. From me. From... Astrid."
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| − | [Avir] He couldn't believes he was saying this, but...."Oh, grow up."
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| − | [Wheel] He follows him out. "What's sealed in the vial, anyway?"
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| − | [Avir] "Just warding blood. It was enough to make her crack, at least." He had added it cheerfully to his supplies. He would use it tomorrow- or if he didn't, sometime in the future. "Time to talk to the father. Helgara, you're coming too."
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| − | [ST] "Grow up? I-, I-" Fury seizes her, but it shocks her into sullen silence.
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| − | [Avir] Avir smiles. "Lead us to the old man's house."
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| − | [ST] "What old man?" She snaps, shaking her split knuckles. "You'll have to be specific." She licks her lips. "She will be punished, won't she?"
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| − | [Wheel] He follows, glancing around to make sure the night wasn't being further disturbed. Seemed like things weren't going to be too bad from here.
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| − | [Avir] "I imagine so. Stoic Determination. Hope's brother."
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| − | [Wheel] "Whatever the quiet want to do to her. Exile I'd bet. But nothings stopping you from catching her once se's thrown out."
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| − | [Wheel] He just didn't want her to cause trouble now.
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| − | [ST] "Bitch," Helgara murmurs, wiping at her tears as she leads the two of them through the village. Stoic Determination's house looks like his sister's, at least from the outside. A small, neat barn stands a hundred feet from it.
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| − | [Avir] Avir makes soothing noises. When they reach Stoic's house, he doesn't bother to knock. He nods to Wheel and steps aside.
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| − | [Avir] Once the lock is broken, the door swings open. "Stoic Determination," he says, stepping through with his hand on his sword. "We need to talk."
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| − | [ST] There is no reply. The fire gutters in the cold hearth.
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| − | [Avir] "Helgara," Avir says. "Go to the temple. See if Stoic Determination is there with the mother. Then run back and tell us."
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| − | [ST] She gives a shaky nod, then all but springs away in her haste and fury.
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| − | [ST] As Avir glances around, he notices that things seem slightly in disarray. The reindeer that should be in the attached stable is missing. Of course, maybe Stoic Determination just doesn't own one.
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| − | [ST] Avir also spies something glinting on the floor - a piece of silver, carved for ritual sacrifice. If nothing else, at least they know who robbed the temple.
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| − | [Avir] "He's up to something. We have to follow him." He grabs the silver.
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| − | [Wheel] He follows Avir in and pulls the door shut. If Stoic came home, better he didn't realize they were there till he got close to the door. Didn't want him running.
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| − | [Avir] Avir shakes his head. "He's gone to the Shadowlands. I say we go in after him." It was nothing he hadn't survived before...at some trifling cost to his soul. He smiles without humor.
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| − | [Wheel] "Wait for Helgara, or should we run after him now? He's got a lead on us if he bolted. Five minutes might not make much difference, but how far are the closes shadowland wards if he's after them?"
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| − | [Avir] "I don't know. A mile or two. That's why we need to wait for Helgara. And Astrid, if we grab her. The two of us should be able to perform an exorcism of sufficient poewr..."
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| − | [Wheel] He nods. "My guess too. I think I saw a pair of raindeer two doors down. Lets grab them and be off."
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| − | [Avir] "Aye."
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| − | [ST] -----
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| − | [ST] Only a mile or so from the Emerald, the woods begin. It is hard for the elk to find footing in the forest of closely clustered pines. A howling wind rattles the branches of the trees as the foursome probe forward in the darkness. Snow blows even between the trunks to sting faces and numb fingers.
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| − | [ST] Astrid takes the lead, bent almost double on her elk, swaying in the treacherous breeze. Helgara brings up the rear, swiping branches out of her way viciously. Morta had been all too glad to remain in the Emerald, despite her supposed experience with Shadowlands.
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| − | [Avir] "I wonder if we should be worried," Avir says thoughtfully to the air. If Morta wanted to stay behind...
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| − | [ST] Suddenly, it steals upon them - a rush of cold deeper than the frigid wind, a chill that does not cut to the bone but starts there, emanating outward, tinged with a mournful wail. The veil between the lands of the living and the dead.
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| − | [ST] Astrid pulls up short, gasping.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "This isn't right," she says. "We're not even to the warding stones yet. This isn't right."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] He has his good arm tucked close to his chest. The other dangles. It could freeze for all he cared. "What? What's wrong?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He grimaces. "The shadowlands grew? Wouldn't someone have to do something horrible for that to happen?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "We've already crossed over." Astrid wheels around to face them. The pale bark of the trees is bone-white. "Yes, usually. But sometimes they grow on their own. They are difficult to understand."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "It hasn't grown by much," the Greenwoman continues, squinting. "I see the stones just ahead. But it's grown enough to be a problem. We can't leave. Not until the sun rises."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Well, crap," Avir says. No wonder Morta had remained behind. She had good instincts. "We may as well come do what we meant to do, then. I've made it out of shadowlands. Twice."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Still, the skin on the back of his neck crawls. He had killed too many people not to fear their ghosts.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "If Stoic Determination has wandered into the Underworld though, I say we let him die there." He clucks to his reindeer, urging it onward.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He gets his hammer out. Not much else for his hand to do, and it was a comfort. He eyes the darkness around him, suddenly more menacing. Not just his own fear. Shadowlands were like that.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Shall we press on, then?" Astrid asks. Even the resolute Greenwoman has paled slightly, the weak flame of her lantern casting deep hollows under her eyes. At the back of the column, Helgara is the picture of misery.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Yes." The sessula covering Avir's skin shivers. One of its eyes peaks out over his collar. He curses, and it huddles back near his chest. "We press on."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He nods, silent.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Astrid's deer digs in its hooves. Swearing softly, she swats it, and it reluctantly starts forward, eyes rolling. Suddenly, it screams, pitching her from the saddle, racing away wildy as the others bolt. The Greenwoman goes sprawling, sliding down an icy slope of rocks and stunted bushes.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Avir throws himself sideways off his reindeer as gallops through the thicketed trees. No way he could control it, and he was damned if he was going to let it take him into the Underworld.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] He slams painfully against the icy ground, and he suppresses a scream of agony as pain shoots up his stump.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] His mount bolts at the same time. With his weapon out, he hadn't had a hand for the reins, so he had no chance. He was dragged a short way by a foot tangled in a stirrup before the saddle straps gave way. The buck raced off into the night. To a well deserved death, most like.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Wheel's elbow slams painfully into a fallen log as he goes flying, driving a spike of pain all the way up to his shoulder. As he raises his head, he sees a luminous form racing through the trees towards him, bent on all fours, releasing an earsplitting howl.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He got to his feet as fast as he could, awkwardly disentangling his foot from the broken saddle before retrieving his hammer.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Avir pulls himself up against a tree. "Astrid!" he calls. "ASTRID!" They were easy prey if they were seperated. Or so the tales would have it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] It isn't fast enough - the thing is coming on more rapidly than Wheel can respond, due to his age or the cold. It tenses, coils, and lunges at him. He gets a flash of vast, staring white eyes, shining spectral fangs- and-
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] There is a metallic clatter as the creature halts less than a yard from him, its limbs pinwheeling for him, its slavering face clearly visible. A soulsteel muzzle binds its head, and a chain winds away into darkness. The howling, screeching thing was once a woman, by the looks of it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Long, brittle hair crackles as it lunges again and again, each time restrained by the chain. It is completely naked, its pallid, plasmic flesh loose and misshapen.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Astrid does not answer Avir's call. A moment later, Helgara's voice joins him. "Astrid! Astrid!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Swearing under his breath, Avir trudges toward where he thought she fell. Wheel could handle himself. The old woman was...old. And too useful to let die easily.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He shudders, backing up a step. He half raises his hammer to kill the thing. Or rekill it. Or whatever hitting it would do. But something was holding it's, her, chain, and he didn't want that something to let go.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Avir starts picking his way down the slope where Astrid fell, then halts as he spies her light. She lies on her back at the bottom of the slope, looking up at the luminous figure standing above her. A ghost, its face obscured by a white death mask, blood seeping from a wound at its throat. Dark hair moves strangely behind it, as if under its own volition. A long, naked blade the color of
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] blue fire gleams in one of its mailed fists.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Hello," Avir says cautiously. His hand hovers by his swordhilt, but he doesn't draw. Yet.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As Wheel squints into the darkness, he can see that the hungry ghost that has lunged at him is actually chained to a stout tree. He also spots another ghost, moving through the trees towards him. It glows brightly. It is massive, easily eight feet tall, and it is a man, though its taloned fingers and hulking form suggest a mockery of the human form.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The ghost looks up towards Avir, nodding slightly. When it speaks, its voice is feminine, and surprisngly melodious. "Breather. Is Bitter Honey name approach not greetings."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Avir raises his hand up. "We're not your enemy. We're looking for another breather. Stoic Determination. Do you know of him?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Us to why have you Stoic Determination is known come?" It inclines its head strangely. Below the ghost, Astrid is slowly reaching for a weapon. "Faster not try it do than I am you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] Wheel lets Avir talk and gathers himself, eyes darting between the two ghosts focused on him. The neck bleeder was the one who'd ran. Hadn't been aggressive before, maybe it didn't want to fight now. That hulking brute, though. They knew nothing about that one.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "We need to talk to him." Avir's eyes dart between the ghosts. "But you seem to know more than us. What is going on?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Breathers," the larger one hisses. He is wrapped in chains that clank as he moves, and his ashen skin marks him as a Southerner, in life. He has moliated his face, until it appears more like a lion than the man he once was. "Determination is in our custody. It is no concern of yours. We've no business with breathers."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "A breather is dead," Avir says coldly. "One of you does. Who do you have business with?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The female ghost, overhearing, nods. "Is Pleasant Fury correct. Affairs meddle in the not would do well you Lady Twilight."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "I've encountered servants of Lady Twilight before. Is Little Promise one of you?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He had? Who was she? What the hell were these things saying?
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Poyozo slipped her bonds," the larger one, Pleasant Fury, says, gesturing roughly at the hungry ghost. "It was not deliberate. One or two less breathers will matter little. You can fuck and make more."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Pleasant Fury laughs. "You are here for Little Promise? Breathers love Little Promise. Should have cared more before he died."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Avir's eyes narrow. It was time he had a word with Lady Twilight, perhaps. "Oh, I can't say I'm in love with him, myself. Is Stoic Determination alive?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Helgara seems utterly perplexed by the events occurring in front of her. "Let Astrid go! N-NOW!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Be still," Avir snaps. "We've no cause to fight." Yet.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] "Shut it Helga." Her running wouldn't do shit to help things.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The ghost standing over Astrid, Bitter Honey, laughs richly. "One whines this pup like. Hungry milk for mama's?" It's just as well Helgara doesn't understand it. At the admonishment of the others, she falls silent.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "The Breather is alive." Pleasant Fury nods. "He meets with our leader now."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "To bargain for Little Promise?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] What would he give, is the question.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "One this is quick," Bitter Honey says with a flourish.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Pleasant Fury growls assent. "Yes. Perhaps you should do the same. You will not leave here unless it is by his order, breathers. Were it not for those orders, you would be dead already. You must know this before we begin."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Who is your leader?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He nods. He didn't like their odds if they tried to fight here, so going to join more of them was probably no more dangerous in the end. Avir knew more than he did about this, and he was going along. He'd be damned before he said no to what Avir would do.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Obsequieous Refusal. He is at our camp in the Shadowland." The large ghost growls, looking between the assembled Haslanti. "I will bring you to him."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Very well." There best chance was to delay until dawn. And keep a close watch to make sure they weren't tricked into the Underworld as they had so haplessly stumbled into the shadowland. [ST] "Honey. Assure they do not attempt to flee. Helgara almost demurely steps from her mount. It runs terrified into the night as Bitter Honey approaches. When the ghost places a pallid hand on her shoulder, she jerks it away violently. Honey laughs.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Of Quiet one this stinks."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Oh...I think you'll find most 'breathers' a bit nervous around you dead folk."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The grim procession moves through the woods, giving the chained hungry ghost a wide berth. Fortunately, the journey is a short one. Within just a few paces, Pleasant Fury carefully alters course to step between two waist-high stone columns. This must be where Hope weakened the ward.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] He mourns for Stomp and the cloud-sword demon all over again. The two of them would make negotation all but unnecessary.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Gradually, the trees change. The bark darkens to a deep red, the needles to a dark gray. Ash falls like snow around them as Pleasant Fury leads the way to the ghostly camp.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] A series of tents have been constructed in a clearing, ash piled up around them in drifts. A tall pole stands in the center of the tents, and a ghost dressed in the garb of the Quiet is chained to it by a cruel collar that binds his neck to the post. Stoic Determination stands nearby, held at arm's length by another ghost. This one also wears a mask. It is a woman, tall, with long flowing
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] red hair and fingers twice as long as they should be. These fingers play up and down Determination's face as he stands with his eyes screwed shut.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Despite himself, Avir pities the man.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As the group approaches, one of the tent flaps opens, and another ghost emerges. This one is tall, lean, sticklike, hairless. It wears a teardrop-shaped mask that is half black and half white, and which shifts slowly as they watch, as if it is made of liquid, or flesh. Its skin is tinted a pale green.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] Wheel keeps himself tightly wrapped. If he didn't think about everything he was doing, he'd lash out and start something that wouldn't end well. So he stays quiet, watches, and tries not to dwell on what was happening. Determination was a disturbing reflection, but he shut that out too. He wasn't so pathetic, helpless, at least.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Contagion ghost," Avir mutters to the others.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Avir tilts his head down in a slight bow. "You are Obsequieous Refusal, I presume?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Newcomers," the ghost says, with a slight bow. It is not charming. "Yes. And this -" He gestures to the ghost stroking Determination. "Is Demure Riot. You have met the others. I know why the Quiet breather is here. I do not know what foolish drive brings the rest of you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "A woman died. That brought us." Avir looks at Stoic Determination as he says it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The man shivers. "Wh-what?" He turns to Refusal, as if to demand something, and then quails, completely unable to speak.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Unfortunate," Refusal says. "And unintentional. I cannot say I feel sorrow, but I do feel regret. Such things complicate our task."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "She was young," Avir says, still looking at Determination. "Very young. Two guards died with her."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Why did the hungry ghost go for the temple?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The ghosts laugh, a susurration almost like a whisper that rises to a demented shrieking. Helgara shrinks closter to Astrid, taking her by the arm almost unconsciously.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Not temple want Poyozo." Bitter Honey giggles.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Indeed," Refusal says. "She is our sniffer. Mindless. Hungry. Your thief breathes before you. He sought to make a purchase."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The tall ghost reaches out, patting the bound and gagged Little Promise, who writhes against his touch.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "I...see. What was the price?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He negotiated no price. He merely hoped. He brought us sacrificial goods, incense, silver. A small fortune. I have not decided if it is worth risking the wrath of the Lady yet."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] "Why don't you kill him and let it end at that?" He doubted it would, but he could always hope. Didn't seem likely that they'd let them bottle them back up, though, and thats what letting them live amounted to.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He is my son," Stoic Determination sobs out, as if to answer for all the misery he has caused. "Please. He is my son."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Kill him?" Refusal laughs, tilting his head. The liquid of his mask sloshes and reshapes itself, revealing, for a split second, a hideous, cadaverous face. "I have no desire to kill him. Our business is not with breathers. They are trouble. If enough of them are killed, even among these... Quiet, we draw the attention of the living world. We do not truck with the living." He laughs again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "You see, we are the slavers of the dead."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "I see." Why not just take the goods, and the ghost as well? But perhaps they wanted the sacrifice to ensure proper..munificence of the wealth in the underworld. "May I speak to them?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "No ignorant Quiet, this one," Demure Riot says. "He will spoil our surprise. I would like to touch his face."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "They are here," Refusal says. "You have a throat. Speak."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Surprise?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] In response to his question, the ghosts simply laugh again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] His skin crawled. Not something he wanted to leave loose in Haslanti lands. Especially not near a battlefield he'd be fighting on. He suppressed an urge to yell/plead that if they went missing more would come. He wasn't that weak.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Promise..." Astrid says softly. "I remember him. He used to be so polite. He would help me in the planting..." Helgara leans into her, holding her tight in growing fear.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] He approaches the two prisoners. There seemed an easy un-ravel to the situation, if only Little Promise had a little of the Quiet still within himself. He puts his hand on Stoic Determination's shoulder, but it is to the ghost he speaks. "Little Promise. What is keeping you here? You have your father's love and forgiveness. Go, and be a peace."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Lethe would solve everything. If Little Promise has the serenity to seek it. Surely the Quiet trained their children in serenity.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Pleasant Fury slaps a fist against his broad chest, shaking the chains there. "The Breather does not know of the power of our chains. They prevent all escape, save Oblivion."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Little Promise looks up at Refusal, and the ghost reaches down to unfasten his soulsteel gag. He gasps, strangely, as he no longer needs to breathe air.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "It would do no good. My business with father is... unsettled."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Stoic Determination places his head in his hands, beginning to sob again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Unsettled how?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He does not forgive himself. He cannot. I cannot leave him like this."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] Damned ghosts. An quiet afternoon and a cup of tea could settle it all, but instead they embroil everyone in these...dramas.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "So strange, the ties that bind us even after death," Refusal says, almost thoughtfully. "Even after seven hundred years, it still amuses me. But you bestir yourselves uselessly. What is one ghost in chains? He will be but one drop in an ocean, soon."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Mmm. I like to think I have a heart. And certain ideas about the proper functioning of Creation. Well, you are long-dead, Contagion ghost. None now remember you. And you must have amassed relatively little wealth and power to be running a common slaving game chaining one ordinairy ghost."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] Damn him if the dead lad wasn't in a pathetic situation. But there wasn't anything they could do. Mess with the ghosts' merchandise and they wouldn't let them live, so the town wouldn't get free of the shadowland. Not everything that came through would be even this peaceable towards the quiet. But he couldn't leave the lad. He hadn't been at fault, really. "Maybe we replace the ghost."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Incense and silver means nothing, if not offered in memory. I offer greater sacrifices than that in the land of the living- great enough to be a source of great wealth to you. But I want the ghost Little Promise and his father, and my comrades out alive."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] "Or that." He knew people he would rather have chained there than the kid, but Avir's way sounded better. If the ghosts wanted anything they had.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Refusal gives a ragged exhalation. His mask flips completely over, then rights itself, and he chuckles. The sound is like rusted chains grating together. "One ghost? A common slaving gang? You do not know to whom you speak. We are the Harmonious Contradictions, the foremost slaver of the Honorable Lady Twilight, who chained the screaming Dorask, and broke the Shackled City. I heard the
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] death rattle of the Shogunate. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall and rise again. You are a speck of dust. You mean to lecture me?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Why do you think we are here, breather? To make the Quiet piss their neat little beds? Why do you think the Shadowland grows?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "I am alive." Avir spreads his single hand wide. "And I have something you want. I care nothing for the kingdoms of the dead and the little plays of power. Ultimately, it matters naught." He bares his teeth in a grimace of a smile. "And I have met your kind before, and come out ahead."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Very soon," the ghost continues, as if unimpressed. "Very soon, there will be a great battle here, between the Haslanti and the Fellai. THe Underworld buzzes with prayer. Many will die. The Shadowland knows this, and anticipates the stain of their blood. Many will die, and we will take them as they rise, alone, desolate, isolated on the field of battle. Hundreds we will take, thousands, and
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] you lecture me on the value of one ghost? One man's dead son?" Refusal laughs again, louder, louder, louder, the sound becoming one rising shriek.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "If one ghost means nothing, then you're getting a bargain," Avir says mildly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] Now there was more at stake. They had to get that intelligence to the army. Maybe they'd get an extra few days of fortifying if they knew the battle would be here.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Promises are feather-light," Refusal says. "How could I be sure you would keep your word? WOuld you swear an oath?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "I would swear an oath."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "And what would you offer? What would you demand?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "That you would release Little Promise and not bother him again. That you would allow all the living here to leave unharmed." He offers a fairly substantial sacrifice. He doubted it would be refused.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "We have no interest in harming the living," Refusal says. "They are not our business. If this be your agreement, swear it three times. On the name of the Dual Monarchy, on the Calendar of Setesh. On the River Styx, may it strike you down if you break this oath."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] He glances over at Avir. "I'll chip in." It was only right.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] He nods to Wheel. "Thanks."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] He so swears.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "We will not be hunted, or penned in the Shadowland while we remain," the ghost continues. "We will not harm the Quiet, but we will go among them. Know that this cannot be prevented."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] He runs his sword along the palm of his hand, in the proper form of the matter, and flings out three drops of blood. One for each oath. They do not sink it to the ground. "Why will you do this?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "The living are not our business. But they are what we once were. Would you ask a freezing man not to stare at a fire through a window? Not to dream of warmth? If so, you are a fool."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "I would call that man a fool, if he needed only to open a door to have it again." Avir shrugs. "But it is not my business."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "And if opening that door destroyed him?" Refusal shrugs. "A bargain, with a breather. I will never hear the end of it. He reaches down, and wrenches the collar around Little Promise's neck free in one jerk. The ghost slumps forward, and his father races to him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Take him, and go from us. You may depart at sunrise. Do not come back, or I will risk a little wrath from the breathing world."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Wheel] "We surely won't." Not into the shadowland, anyway. THey'd be back for the wards soon enough, though.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "I hope we do not meet again," Avir nods. He lets Stoic Determination handle his son alone; now that they are free, he is furious with both of them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Did... is that it?" Astrid says after a while, as the ghost camp dwindles behind them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "Seems so." Avir turns to look back. "You ask me, we got off cheap." But then, he was richer than most.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Helgara and Astrid try very hard not to look at the luminous form of Little Promise as he moves along beside his father. But he will not be ignored, squaring his shoulders, speaking up.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Father, you must tell them, it is the only way." Stoic Determination does not respond, staring at the ground, his shoulders hitching. "TELL THEM!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Fine," he gasps out, as if tearing the bandage from a wound. "I killed him. I killed my own son." He falls to the ground, clawing at his hair. "There! Does that make you happy? I killed him!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Avir] "What?!" Avir whirls. "But you- " He stops. Who was he to criticize, after all? "That's why you did not go to lethe. Stoic Determination," his voice is silky. "I think that make you one of us."
| |
