IceAndWave/AiaArrives
Aia Arrives
In which Sian Nerivus gains a weak ally, a powerful enemy, and sets events in motion which will have large-scale repercussions...
The 25th day of Descending Wood, Realm Year 762
The Syndics were, as usual, both enigmatic and forceful in their directives. Sian was to travel thousands of miles, out to a remote group of islands in the White Sea that no-one else had ever heard of, and there negotiate with the local Storm Mother for continued access to certain dragon lines that she, somehow, controlled. The usual offerings (obsidian, black dogs and/or birds, humans if necessary) were all on the table, as were certain other items - obliquely referred to as "the Five Considerations", although they were quite firm on not wanting to give them all away.
The Osprey, a fast yacht captained by one Saffron Iceflow, pulls up just off the coast of what could charitably be called an island, but is really a large chunk of rock that barely pokes out of the stormy ocean. Standing at the water's edge is the Storm Mother's delegation, variously an eternally-wet child, a shape that appears to be a shifting column of water, and, remarkably, a largely human female, albeit with certain feline features.
The child walks across the water and bows just off the ship's port side, "Greetings, O Prince of the Earth. I am Solidarity-of-Waves, chancellor to her greatness, Osikuthe."
Sian bows as best he can from the railing; somewhat stiffly and with a great deal of formality. "Greetings. I am Sian Nerivus, ambassador of the Whitewall Syndics."
Solidarity-of-Waves gestures behind him, "These are Uushuthseths and Aia," he indicates the pillar of water and the catgirl respectively, and then bows again, "I am to escort you to my mistress' court, where we may begun the negotiations with the representative of the Most Honoured Syndics of Whitewall."
"Indeed." Sian wanders down the gangway to meet them close-up, rather glad he brought his coat.
On the other side of the island is a depression in the water, curiously still in the choppy seas. Approaching closer you see that it is actually a boat, apparently spun from glass so fine as to be almost invisible, except when the waves break against its side. "Osikuthe's court lies somewhat further in on these islands," Solidarity-of-Waves explains, "This boat will take us there more swiftly and safely than your companion's contrivance."
Sian hides his uncertainty at riding in such a fragile-looking thing beneath a look of studied indifference. "Of course."
Once Osikuthe's delegation and Sian are on board the boat sets sail, apparently under its own power. Solidarity-of-Waves sits at the prow, while you and Aia share a bench further back. Uushuthseths just melded into the water, rather than ride the boat - a long, gurgling laugh coming from it before disappearing.
Sian grows distinctly uncomfortable at that, but doesn't comment. He does take the chance, however, to study his companions, mainly the out-of-place looking catgirl.
Aia looks back, her slitted amber eyes wide, and mouths two words to him, "Help. Me." Meanwhile, Solidarity-of-Waves seems to be intent on giving you the guided tour of Osikuthe's domain, currently relating the story of the battle of Lesath Reef, an improbably huge melee that took place somewhere here several centuries ago.
Sian quirks an eyebrow at her, almost imperceptibly, but still doesn't speak. He otherwise tries to pay attention to the story, but military matters have always bored him, so descriptions of troop movements and such are difficult for him to keep track of.
Ahead a larger island appears, looming out of the mist and spray. Jagged rocks jut out of the water at its edge, but the glass boat weaves cleanly through them before stopping with an almost imperceptible bump. The ragged remains of what was once some kind of outpost break up the otherwise unpleasantly motonous landscape of the island, and a few hundred yards distant you see what could only be described as a pavillion, resting on the stony ground.
Sian's lips twitch as he resists the urge to say something sarcastic regarding said lovely vista. But that tends not to start negotations off well...
Solidarity-of-Waves leads Sian towards the pavillion, on closer inspection it appears to have been made from several hundred thousand fish skins, all neatly sewn together, giving a rippling silver effect to the large tent as the wind catches at it. Aia, apparently without thinking, grabs his hand as he is led inside to the court of Osikuthe.
Sian gives her an odd look as she does, but takes no action other than to give the hand a light squeeze. Best not to offend the host.
Osikuthe herself is, quite frankly, truly ugly. Scaly skin, a warty disfigured face, and heavy drooping breasts create a barely human picture as she sits on a throne carved from obsidian, waving grandly towards Sian as he approaches. She smiles, her mouth full of jagged teeth, "Welcome to my domain, Terrestrial."
"I am... honoured." Barely a pause, but it is there, as Osikuthe no doubt notes.
"You have met the newest member of my court, I see..." she gestures at Aia, who flinches and lets go of Sian's hand, "A pretty little thing, isn't she? A gift from her mother, also." Osikuthe gets up from her throne and waddles over to you, "Now, what do those uptight Syndics want from me this time?"
Sian is glad his nose is cold, since brine and seaweed has never smelled particularly lovely to him. "Access to the dragon lines."
Osikuthe grins toothily, "Ah yes, of course. Their precious little pets." She reaches out and pats him familiarly on the hip, "And what are they offering?"
Mmm, iron self-control. Sian barely manages to avoid grimacing, saying, "The normal offerings, of course. And, if you were generous in this, as I have no doubt you will be... perhaps one or more of the Five Considerations?"
She reaches up and tweaks his cheek, "Aren't you the polite one? Better-looking than the last one, too..." She turns and waddles back to her throne, "It is too late for negotiations to begin today. I offer you the hospitality of my court and request that we commence in the morning."
"Of course, my lady." He turns to leave, then pauses, gesturing to Aia. "May I, in return, request the company of this girl? The nights can be cold, and a warm body would be appreciated."
Osikuthe turns to look at him, "You like her, eh?" She waves her hand dismissively, "Very well, have her for the night. The talks begin an hour after sun-up." She returns to her throne and Solidarity-of-Waves ushers Sian away to another part of the pavillion, which seems somewhat larger inside than out as he passes through fish-skin walled passages.
Sian gestures shortly to Aia as he is shuffled out.
His room, if it could be called that, is basically a partitioned-off section of the pavillion. A bed made of driftwood with seaweed for a mattress, rests some 6' away from the door, which is little more than a flap of fishskin. Solidarity-of-Waves looks at Sian, slightly puzzled, "I'm not sure I understand your motives, Child of Danaa'd, but I shall be watching you tomorrow." With that, he leaves.
Sian makes a rude gesture at him as soon as he leaves the room, then flops down on the bed. Which squelches rather nastily, but isn't actually wet, to his relief. He vaguely wonders why he got sent out here, instead of some of the Syndic's other servants.
Aia, with a resigned expression on her face, and kicks her sandals off and begins to unlace her blouse, but then Sian reaches out with a hand and takes hold of both of her own. "Don't." She whispers, "But I am to be yours tonight. I must obey her wishes, otherwise..." she shudders, her eyes closing.
"She said I could have you for the night. And all I requested was some company. Okay?" He softens somewhat; this place makes him feel unpleasant, and it carries over into the way he talks.
Aia smiles, and it looks like it's the first time she has smiled in a long time. "Thank-you," she whispers.
"No thanks needed." He gives her a slight smile in return, which does a great deal for his looks. "Just get some rest... you look like you need it."
Aia leans down to kiss his cheek, her ears twitching and folding back, and then lies down on the bed, stretching out mightily and yawning. Then Sian removes his fur-lined coat, ignoring the cold that washes over his skin, and covers her with it. "Sleep well."
The 26th day of Descending Wood, Realm Year 762
The next day dawns bright and cold, the light of the sun gleaming through the scaled material of the pavillion. There is a perfunctory tap on one of the wooden struts and then Solidarity-of-Waves walks in. "Ah... already awake, I see?"
Sian is pulling his boots on, sitting on the edge of the bed to do so. "Perceptive of you."
Solidarity-of-Waves snorts slightly, and looks at Sian with something less than pleasure in his grey-green eyes. "Osikuthe is eager to begin negotiations with the representative from Whitewall. She has decided to start immediately, so I am afraid that there will be no time for a morning meal." He smirks, "If you would care to follow me," and leaves the chamber.
"Of course," you slimy little water-brat. Sian leans down to give Aia's ear a scratch, before leaving the soundly-sleeping girl to rest for a while longer.
Osikuthe is sitting on her throne once more as Sian enters the central chamber, and she gets off it to waddle over before giving him a long, and slightly fishy, hug. "Good morning, my boy. Sleep well?" she grins slightly as she says this, and a soft snicker ripples through the remainder of the court.
"Quite." He puts his game face on, albiet a little more frowny than usual.
The Storm Mother gestures for the Exalted to take a seat next to Solidarity-of-Waves, who begins, "In order to allow the Syndics of Whitewall continued access to the dragon lines within her domain, the great Osikuthe requires payment in the form of 1000 talents of obsidian sculpture, 50 black dog and 50 ravens a year, to be delivered in the usual manner." This is, Sian quickly calculates, ten times the previous price.
He just about bursts out laughing. "I suspect that the North itself does not contain that much. 30 talents, and 3 each of the dogs and ravens." If she can ask outrageous prices, so can I.
Solidarity-of-Waves makes a move to get up, "If you are going to insult my mistress in such a..." he stops as Osikuthe waves for him to sit back down, what could possibly be an intent expression on her face. "800 talents, 40 each of the animals."
"800 talents and no animals, perhaps."
Osikuthe shakes her head slightly, and a counter-offer is made, "500 talents, 20 dogs and ravens."
"300, 10 each of the dogs and ravens, and one of the Considerations." He hopes that these are as valuable as the Syndics seemed to imply.
"Which of the Considerations?"
Sian thinks hard and realises that yes, in their wisdom, the Syndics didn't give him any more information about the Considerations beyond the fact that there are five of them. "... your choice." Please not a mistake. Please not a mistake.
Osikuthe smiles broadly and stands, "Please tell my brothers in Whitewall that I would be pleased to take the Second Consideration and the rest of the price offered." She smiles somewhat toothily, "There now, that wasn't so painful, was it?"
Sian takes a deep, calming breath. "... and I want Aia."
A sudden crack of thunder shatters the warm atmosphere, and clouds spill in over the sky, turning it inky-black within seconds, "WHAAAAAAT?!?" Osikuthe screams. "You little whelp, you want what?"
"I want Aia. You heard me."
"You want that ungrateful little bratling, whose own mother sent her away?" Osikuthe seethes, and the court cowers away from her evident rage. "Her skills in the bedroom must be greater than I thought, for her to have bewitched you in a single night."
"Not at all. I simply want to take her away from this sorry excuse for a backwater cesspool." To hell with the calming breath.
Lunging forwards, with a speed belied by her girth, Osikuthe stands mere inches from Sian, while the remainder of the court have long since vacated the chamber, even Solidarity-of-Waves is nowhere to be seen. "What did you say?"
Sian moves not in the least. "A. Backwater. Cesspool." He sneers. "I'm sure you feel all high and mighty, with your servants cowering all the time and your lovely welcoming of guests. But I notice that the worshippers aren't exactly lining up to offer you sacrifices." He gestures broadly behind him at the empty court. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that my masters provide you with a fairly large portion of your income."
"You can kill me if you like. But you can say goodbye to any of the obsidian, not to mention the Consideration."
Osikuthe's not-inconsiderable chest heaves, the motion reminiscent of mountains moving, and she almost visibly boils with anger, "You little upstart dragonling, in another time and place I would flay you alive and feed you to the siaka." She turns, "Go. Take the whore with you. But if I ever see either of you in my territory again, you will experience torments the like of which have not been seen for centuries."
Sian bows mockingly, an arrogant smile on his face. "It's been a pleasure." He wanders off to find Aia, just resisting the urge to whistle.
"And tell your masters that if a single payment is so much as a single day late, then the deal is broken and they will lose the dragon lines forever." Sian waves over his shoulder at her in assent.
A scream born of rage and frustration escapes from her throat as he leaves the throneroom, accompanied by a vast clap of thunder that sets the whole pavillion to shaking. Sian wanders in to see the no-doubt terrified Aia. "How fast can you pack?"
Aia looks up, her eyes wide, "Pack? What do you mean?"
Sian crouches beside the bed, bringing his head just below hers. "We're leaving. You'll need warm clothes, mostly, but anything that you think you can carry can come with us. There's space on the ship, and I can carry a fair amount myself."
She smiles again, "We? You mean I'm coming with you?" She hugs him warmly, "Oh, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!" She looks around, "I'm wearing almost everything I own, I just need my jewelry."
Sian hugs her strongly in return, mostly needing it to steady his nerves. "Just hurry. Osikuthe wasn't very pleased with my wording." He looks almost apologetic.
"Oh my..." she shudders, "I'll be back in a minute." She returns in the minute, a blue-and-gold torc around her neck and several small knife sheaths strapped to her waist. She smiles and kisses Sian's cheek, "Thank you..."
"Still none needed." He smiles, and picks up his coat from the bed to drape around her shoulders. "Come on... we'd better go."
Solidarity-of-Waves is there to usher them back to the glass boat, the skies above the island still storm-wracked and the waves reaching fifteen feet or more as Osikuthe's rage plays itself out in the environment. "I don't understand why you did what you did," he says at the water's edge, "You had a good position and now you have probably ruined it over a female."
Sian ushers Aia onto the ship before boarding himself, and turning back to face the spirit. "I doubt you will ever understand, living here as you do. But to me..." He gestures at Aia. "Leaving a girl like that in a place like this... it's not done."
The spirit turns and walks away, the glass boat skimming rapidly over the stormy seas back towards the islet where Sian first saw Aia. Waiting on the shore stands the pillar of water introduced as Uushuthseths, swirling around madly as if connected to the anger around him. Aia shrinks away when she sees it, whimpering slightly.
Sian steps off before the girl, and faces the moving mass of water with a neutral expression on his face. "Yes?"
A gurgling sound issues from Uushuthseths, what passes for laughter from the creature. It stands there, giving Sian the distinct impression of looking at him before spouting off the ground and into the sea. As it leaves a low, whirling voice says, "I like you, Chosen. You've got balls."
Sian allows himself a smile, and he waves at the exiting spirit, before turning back to the shaky catgirl. "Here... we're just about gone, ok?"
Saffron leans over the side of the Osprey, "It's gotten a mite choppy just recently. Anything I should know?"
"I'd... maybe consider avoiding this area for a while. I get the feeling any reminder of me will be a problem."
"Right-o. I'll just add that to the bill at the end." She turns to her navigator and slowly the Osprey turns away from these gods-forsaken islands, to begin the season-long journey back to Whitewall.
Sian spends a great deal of the trip sleeping on the floor, as he doesn't have enough letters of credit to get an extra room for Aia. Plus, he figures she deserves the rest.
