IceAndWave/SomethingRottenParadise1
Something is Rotten in Paradise - part 1
In which an immortal dies, ninjas are stared down, and a city of the dead found where it shouldn't be...
The 19th Day of Resplendent Wood, Realm Year 763
The hustle and bustle of the streets of Othakaar keeps Sian & Kerzoro close together, brushing shoulders with stevedores and sailors, thieves and conmen, merchants and peasants. The noise in the narrow streets is almost deafening, with any conversation lower than a soft roar fading into the white noise of humanity.
Turning down into an alley hopefully called the Street of Promises, the human traffic drops off noticeably and the two head down towards the unremarkable address where Sian's latest assignment awaits.
Kerzoro doesn't find himself having to brush too many people away. Being a huge Dragon-Blood with an even bigger sword on his back does tend to make people step away. He'd be really frightening if he weren't in such a good mood. "So then! You have not told me what this assignment is yet!"
Sian has been mostly silent up until this point. "That's because I don't know. I'm supposed to go here, get given... something, and do what they tell me." He shrugs a little.
"Hmm! Well, that's... vague."
"I've learned not to question. Between the two of us, I think we can handle anything that crops up."
The ninth house on the left is a small, bricked building, with a second floor that appears largely derelict and tumbledown. The door is more a threadbare curtain than a portal capable of barring entry, and from inside the house wafts the smell of incense and the gentle, but complex, sounds of windchimes.
The pair step inside, the smell of incense growing stronger, and the windchimes are interrupted with the sound of movement from the far room, someone or something pushing against furniture.
"Hmm..." Kerzoro mutters.
Sian waits patiently for whoever-it-is to initiate conversation, standing with his hands folded behind his back.
The curtain at the back of the room stretches taut all of a sudden, as if gripped from below and then goes slack again, with a heavy thumping sound heard from it, and the sound of chimes fades almost to nothing.
Sian frowns, and quickly makes his way in.
Kerzoro blinks, and moves towards the back of the room.
Lying on the floor of the back room, sprawled out in a pool of its own purple blood, is a vaguely humanoid figure. One outstretched hand appears to have been cut entirely out of crystal, while the large hilt of some kind of weapon protrudes from its back, more purple blood leaking out from around the wound. The figure stirs slightly Kerzoro's feet, and he realises that the sound of windchimes was the thing's voice.
Kerzoro starts for a moment as he sees the god, and kneels by his side. "... by the dragons... who did this to you?"
"The Gyr... Gyren Star..." the god, for such it must be for all that it lies dying, "Where is it?"
Sian scans the room quickly, but apart from himself, Kerzoro and the dying god, the room contains precisely three other things - a large wooden table and a pair of stools, one at the far end, the other upturned and on the floor. "It's not here." He crouches beside the being. "Who did this?"
Sian looks at the blade... Must be something special, to kill a god.
The god's voice, fading like chimes in a lazy desert breeze, fills the room one last time. "Sen... Sentasto. They need Gyren's Star for their... their dark plans." The god rolls over onto its back, the rough robe falling aside to reveal a thing made from a hundred thousand crystals, its eyes like pale rubies while six inches of bone-white blade protrude from its chest. "Biruz must not be allowed to keep it!"
Kerzoro looks towards Sian. "... Sentasto, Biruz... those names ring a bell?"
Sian is already searching his memory for the names. "No. But we can find them." He realises that Sentasto, is a corruption of the Old Realm for "Broken Knives", while "Biruz" sounds more like a name of some kind.
Regardless of that, there is now a dead god on the floor, lying in a puddle of its own congealing blood.
"Hmm. Sentasto doesn't sound very nice, anyway." Sian closes the god's eyes, his expression rather cold.
Kerzoro stands up, frowning, and looks around the room again. "... Assasins? The attack must have been recent... probably just before we arrived?"
"Yeah..." He starts looking too, and realises that, judging from various scuff-marks on the floor, the signs of disturbed dust and the position of the god's corpse, that the attackers numbered between 4 and 5, and that at least two of them held the spirit in place with a third thrust the knife into its back, plunging it with sufficient force to fully penetrate the crystalline body of the god. Also, the attack took place no more than ten minutes prior to Sian and Kerzoro's arrival on the scene.
Sian hmms to himself, stepping outside and looking for any indication as to which direction the attackers went.
Kerzoro follows after Sian, still frowning.
Any immediately obvious signs of travel on the part of the assassins are long since gone. Although foot traffic on the Street of Promises is infrequent, it is not non-existent. What is evident, however, are the sounds of booted feet and the jingling of weapons and mail getting rapidly louder and approaching the end of the Street that Sian and Kerzoro themselves came from.
Kerzoro is so used to the sound of weapons and mail that he takes a few moments to register the sound before he turns to look in said direction. "Hmm?"
A few purple droplets lead off away from the sounds of soldiers and the direction that the two Dragon-blooded came from, further into the maze of back-alleys and side-streets that Othakaar is somewhat infamous for.
Sian decides that tracking them into said maze is a fruitless endeavour, so simply waits for whoever is approaching.
The light spilling in to the Street of Promises from outside is cut off suddenly as a formation of soldiers, not Realm legionnaries, but members of the Peleps soldiery judging by their colours, march at double-time into the alleyway. Their leader, a fresh-faced looking woman gestures and twenty spears are lowered at pointed at the pair of outcastes. "We have had reports of trouble in this area. State your business!"
Kerzoro is about to open his mouth, and... then Sian steps in front of him, hands raised. "In the building. We just got here."
The lead soldier points and a fang peels off to check out the interior. One returns a few seconds later and whispers into her ear, and she pales visibly at the news, "Great Dragons! Send word to the monastery that we need their wisdom. And quickly." She faces Sian, "What is your business here?"
"I was supposed to meet with him... we found him like that."
"Meet with him? Why?"
"My masters required it."
"And your companion?" She gestures with a spear.
"Bodyguard."
Kerzoro raises a hand in greetings, and then lowers it again
"I think that your presence would be most welcomed by the monastery when they come to discover what has happened here. I must insist that you accompany me to the garrison-house."
"Very well," Sian nods.
The soldiers form up around the pair, and lead them out of the Street of Promises and into what would normally be the hustle and bustle of a main thoroughfare - but the presence of more than twenty soldiers puts a damper on most people's enthusiasms.
Sian remains silent unless addressed.
Kerzoro remains silent as well, but deep in thought, hand in chin.
The garrison-house is a large stone building, almost a small fortress in the centre of the dock district of Othakaar. Disarmed and ushered into adjoining cells (two soldiers are required to lift The Bane), Sian and Kerzoro wait for the arrival of the Immaculate representative.
Kerzoro doesn't resist them taking The Bane away, but does put emphasis in being careful with it, and once inside said cell... "... Hmm. This is almost too much of a coincidence."
"Just a little. But running didn't seem like a good plan." He looks around. "Pretty poor treatment for Chosen, if you ask me."
"Hmph! I am not concerned. Not resisting is the wise choice in either case. If it was otherwise, they would have needed twice as many soldiers to detain us! And these bars cannot hold back a Dragon-Blooded either, can they?"
"True." He flicks one with a finger. "I guess all we can do is wait."
"Indeed."
The door to the cellblock opens some indeterminate, but not too long, time after the incarceration of the pair of Dragon-bloods. In through the door steps a pair of monks, dressed in the plain robes of the Immaculates. One, a woman with a long scar that almost bisects her face from left forehead to right cheek looks at you, "So you two are the god-slayers?"
"No, we are the ones who found the god. If you have the god-slayers in custody, though, I'd quite like to talk to them."
"The only people in custody regarding the matter of a dead god are standing in front of me. And are outcastes, no less - a small matter that the scale-leader neglected to mention."
"So because we are outcaste, we are guilty? No wonder I never cared for the Immaculate philosophy."
Kerzoro remains quiet for the moment, standing with his arms crossed.
The woman leans in and hisses at Sian, "The Order of the Immaculate Dragons does not judge based on prejudice and hearsay. We judge based on the facts." She steps away, and gestures to her assistant, "Open the doors. Let them go."
"Your involvement in the death of Gleaming-Quartz-In-The-Darkness was peripheral, at most. While the reason for your being here is... suspect... you have commited no crimes against either Othakaar or the Realm."
Sian steps out of the cell and faces the woman. "Thank you. Do you require anything else of us?"
"Only your assurance that you will leave the Blessed Isle by noon tomorrow. There is a high tide just before then - be on a ship that is leaving with it." With that she turns and walks out of the room followed by her acolyte.
Kerzoro steps out of his cell and watches the woman go. "... quite a temper."
"Mmm. I thought Immaculates were supposed to be more restrained."
"Indeed. Anyway, let me get my blade and we'll be off."
Sian runs a hand through his hair, considering. "Sundown, eh? How long is that?"
Kerzoro looks upwards, although the strong stone ceiling stands between him and the sky, "A few hours at best, I believe."
"Mmm. Just enough time to leave, I think. Lets go grab our gear." He gestures, and starts wandering out.
Kerzoro glances towards Sian over his shoulder. "... I'm curious about those killers still."
"Oh, so am I. But you heard her; we have to be gone by sundown." His tone is strangely amused.
The weapons and equipment are kept in a strongroom next to the exit of the lower cells. One of the Peleps guards bows as they approach, and motions for his comrades to retrieve the goods. Kerzoro moves to take his blade, first of all. That thing's dangerous.
Sian sheathes his javelins, then nods to the soldier in thanks.
The patrol leader who escorted you two arrives and bows, "The Most Honoured Mnemon Oyoni ordered me to tell you that if you are not outside the boundaries of Othakaar by sunset then you will be arrested again."
"That's fine."
Kerzoro nods a bit as he adjusts his things. "... Hmm, Mnemon Oyoni, so that's her name..."
"The Mnemon have a deserved reputation, it seems."
"Oh, but they do."
The woman looks aghast at the casual denigration of the Immaculate, "You had better leave now, before I arrest you for blasphemy."
Sian waves at her offhandedly, wandering out.
Kerzoro follows after Sian, allowing himself a wiseass grin after his back is to the patrol leader
Sian stretches a little. "Hmm... nearest exit? You'd know Isle towns better than I."
Kerzoro pauses, and thinks, lifting a hand to his chin... Othakaar was, during its heydey, a busy port town. Imperial Customs liked to be able to keep a close watch on what entered and exited the city, and so there is only one functional gate through the walls and into the Blessed Isle proper. The other two are long-sealed, and inaccessible.
Kerzoro finally points in one direction. "That way... or the port."
Sian hmms. "Guards at the gate?"
"It's possible."
"Port it is." He wanders off in the direction of the sea-breeze.
Kerzoro follows after Sian, slipping a hand into his robes.
Sian hums quietly to himself, still rather amused.
Othakaar's port is as busy as it ever is, six ships of varying reputability line the wharves that are capable of handling five times that number with ease. Sailors and dockworkers traipse back and forth, while the light of the sun shines down, having begun its long journey to the West.
Sian hmms, looking around for the smallest boat. "That one." He points.
Kerzoro follows after Sian, looking... curious
The small vessel, a coaster called, perhaps optimistically, Sea Dragon, rests quietly at dock, the crew of 7 apparently waiting on deck for something, or someone.
Sian checks the boat over for something only he knows, then wanders up to talk to the captain.
The captain, an ugly man with a missing hand, stands up and his head reaches to Sian's chest, "Can I help you?"
"Yes... we are seeking passage to the North. My companion and I." He gestures back at Kerzoro.
"North's a big place. Care to be more specific?"
"Doesn't matter. Anywhere North."
The captain squints at the sun, "There's a few hours yet 'til high tide. We won't be leaving 'til then."
"That's fine."
"Your friend there doesn't say much, does he?"
Kerzoro points in Sian's direction with a small shrug. "He's the boss."
Sian shrugs as well, in agreement.
"Well, I'm Ghost and this is Sea Dragon. If you wanna leave with us I'll take payment now so's we can get it ready for you. If you miss the tide, you miss the ship."
Sian nods. "There is something else, though..." He leans down and whispers to the man.
Ghost listens and nods, "Can do."
"Thanks." He locates the jade in his pack and hands it over.
"We'll be ready."
Sian nods, and turns back to Kerzoro. "Now we just need to occupy ourselves until sundown. Know anyplace good?"
"Well! There are a few good taverns around here, as well as... other forms of entertainment... as befits any port! ... Although you don't strike me as the kind to enjoy that..."
Sian lifts an eyebrow. "You'd be surprised."
Kerzoro laughs. "Really now! Well then, if you insist..." He turns and begins walking away.
Sian grins, and follows after.
There are any number of... establishments... on the docks of Othakaar, competing for the slowly dwindling trade from sailors and other travellers, the ladies leaning out of the windows on the second floor and proudly displaying what they have to offer as an enticement. Sian waves to a few of them, then whispers to Kerzoro. "Though something a little classier would be nice..."
Kerzoro grins roguishly at the ladies, and glances towards Sian. "Feh! Classy is overated. But if you insist... hmm..."
Sian follows along obediently.
The classier brothels are located a few streets away from the docks, back from the smells of alcohol, rotting seaweed, and the other stenches of the ocean. Less obvious, they are nonetheless blatantly houses of pleasure.
"Much better. Shall we?" He gestures at the nearest one.
"If you so wish."
The sun is approaching the horizon when Sian and Kerzoro finally leave the brothel. The tide-bell rings, signalling the half hour before the water is scheduled to rush out of Othakaar's harbour.
Sian tries to get his clothes looking a little more respectable, smoothing out wrinkles and such.
Kerzoro doesn't look much different than usual, but that might be because he always looks fairly messy. Once outside, he stretches. "... ah! Well, that was refreshing!"
"Most refreshing indeed." He rolls his shoulders a little. "We'd better get back... ship will be off soon."
Sea Dragon is just about to cast off as they arrive. "There you are!" Ghost says, "I thought you weren't going to make it."
"Sorry, we were... occupied.For a while, anyway." He grins at the captain.
Kerzoro just gives a grin. "Well then! Shall we be off?"
The ship casts off, and the tide-bell rings again just as the rush of waters begins, the ships leaving the harbour in a slow stately procession, heading out to ports who knows where...
Kerzoro looks towards Sian. "... So, anything you haven't told me?"
"Nope. We are gone by sunset, as promised. All perfectly in agreement with our lovely Immaculate friend."
Ghost pipes up, "And then Sea Dragon turns around and drops you two off quietly at dockside."
Sian grins pleasantly at Kerzoro. "After sunset, of course."
"... Ah, bureaucracy. How I missed it." Kerzoro grins.
The captain looks at Kerzoro and Sian, "So, in trouble with the law are you? Why do you want to go back?"
"I wouldn't say we are in trouble," Kerzoro avers, "We just had... disagreements."
"Ahhh... disagreements. I've had a few of those myself. Mostly, though, I don't go back."
"Oh, we have some unfinished business."
"Just be careful not to raise too much fuss. They have Exalted there..."
Sian raises a hand, glowing with faint blue Essence. "We have Exalted here, too."
Kerzoro grins a bit.
"Woah," Ghost backs away, "Please don't kill me, my Lords. I meant no disrespect."
"Pah!" Kerzoro barks, "I'm a soldier, not a killer."
Sian waves the hand, glow disappearing. "And I don't mind the talk. Just take us back, I'll pay you, and that is that. Unless you would be amenable to a real passage to the North? We will need to get out of here when our business is done, after all."
"Sea Dragon is just a coaster, my Lords. She couldn't make the passage."
"Darn. Well, thank you anyway."
The sun sets, the ship having sailed around a crag to wait it out, and then head back into harbour - black sails half up the rigging as it glides silently across the waves. Ghost's crew throw the ropes out and pull the ship against the wharf, "Well, goodnight my Lords. Enjoy your business in town."
"Goodnight. And thanks again."
Kerzoro nods at Ghost and his crew, and hops onto dry land. "... aah."
The Street of Promises is far quieter than it was earlier today. The mess of the day is gone, but the house where the spirit died is boarded up and shows every sign of having been so for many years.
Sian stares at it. "Huh."
"Funny that."
"Very funny." Sian steps back, looking up to make sure this is the right place. "Hmm." He turns around and tries to locate the bloodstains present earlier.
"Are they trying to hide something...?"
"Hide something? Probably a weapon that can kill gods. If that got out, then I imagine severe problems would arise."
"Mmm."
"And whatever this Gyren's Star thing is..." He scratches his chin.
The streets of Othakaar are largely quiet during the night. Occasional sounds from the houses that line the Street of Promises, and beams of light leaking through cracked doors and shutters are the only real signs of life. The sounds of booted feet on night-patrol can be heard in the distance, while Kerzoro and Sian ponder their next move, outside the house where a spirit was murdered.
Sian performs a perfunctory search of the area, but sees that the purple bloodstains that lead further into the warren of streets in Othakaar's northern quarter appear to have been wiped or removed with some care. He sighs, standing up from his crouch. "Well, someone has done a good job of covering this up."
Kerzoro is not much of a researcher himself, so he just keeps an eye out."Indeed... the question would be... who?"
"I would assume the Immaculates... they've been the only ones with access to it."
"And why?"
"Well, that I can only guess at." He turns back to the building, considering for a moment, before reaching for one of the boards over the door. "Help me with this, would you?"
"Righto." Kerzoro reaches over to yank the boards with his prodigious strength, and the crack of the boards breaking in Kerzoro's grasp distracts Sian's attention at the critical moment when a series of black-clad figures leap from the shadows, brandishing weapons and hostile attitudes, as they rush into the attack - oddly silently.
Kerzoro yanks the board out... and then glares at the figures as they leap down. He takes a step forward, putting himself between Sian and them, and throws the board at the feet of the one in the lead. With his other hand, he reaches back for The Bane, and draws it in a flash of red. Finally, he stands ready to meet them head on, holding the gigantic blade in both arms. "Hmph! Fools rush to their death!"
In the narrow alleyway, the leader of the attackers trips over the board hurled at his feet, slowing and distracting his companions as they rush forwards, blades swinging at the fiery-haired Kerzoro.
One of the attackers makes a strangled squeal as his cloth-covered feet stand on the nail sticking out of the board thrown by Kerzoro, and he goes down on the ground hard, while his companion swings his sword overhand at the Dragon-blood, who handily deflects the attack.
Sian turns at the flash of red jade, finally noticing his foes. He draws a pair of javelins!
Kerzoro half glances back at Sian, and grins. "Let us end this quickly, friend!" With that, he lashes out with his blade. His sword is nothing more than a red beam of light as it cleaves through the air and at the bandits three times. "HAH!"
Two of the attackers fall to the ground in puddles of their own blood and entrails, while a third dives to one side at the last possible second, Kerzoro's final stroke parting the air mere inches from his head. Kerzoro follows that one with his single eye. "Hmph!"
Sian grimaces. "Try to leave one alive, would you? We need all the leads we can find."
"I make no promises, but I shall do my best!"
"Works for me." So saying, he casually flicks the pair of javelins at the furthest enemy, a quick flash of blue the only hint of their passage.
A third attacker falls silently to the ground, one javelin embedded in his chest, the other piercing his left eye and his twitching corpse falls to the floor.
The fourth assailant, and the only one still on his feet, rushes forwards, his sword slicing at Kerzoro's chest, but his sword clangs off the Dragon-blood's breastplated chest, the sound shockingly loud in the alleyway.
Kerzoro looks moderately annoyed at his breastplate getting scratched, before glancing down at the leader (who might be feeling moderately stupid but it's hard to tell under those masks), rears back with his sword, holding it in one hand... and then reaches with his huge, free hand to grab him by the neck and lift him into the air.
Kerzoro grins nastily at the little man, and then turns, rears back, and does his DAMNEST to slam him into his dodging friend, making the leader pretty much flip into the air as he's being swung. And the ground. Whatever hits first. A loud crack resounds through the alleyway as skull collides with skull, and Kerzoro drives the head of one assailant into that of another, but apart from dizzying the one in his grasp there seems to be little effect.
The third attacker, still hobbling slightly, tries to attack around his companion to strike at Kerzoro, but his sword-strike, in like with his compatriot, glances harmlessly from the metal of the Terrestrial's breastplae.
"Do you mind?"
Sian casually unclips another pair of javelin and repeats his throw, a single bolt of blue as lethal as the last one.
The javelins spear the hobbling assailant through his throat, knocking him to the floor, blood gouting from his neck.
Sian holds his weapon up. "Unless you'd like this through your neck, or to have my companion here cut you into small pieces, I suggest you lay down your weapons."
Kerzoro swings his sword into the air, clearing the blood from it, and glares down at the two. "I suggest you do as my compannion sugests... I cannot hold back the thirst of my blade for much longer!"
The two remaining attackers, spattered in blood and worse from their comrades, drop their weapons and fall to their knees, one of them apparently voiding his bladder in fear, while the pair looks up at Kerzoro with awe in their eyes.
Kerzoro doesn't quite stop glaring down at them, holding his blade still. Sian might wish to do the talking now.
"Well, the logical first questions are... who are you, and why did you attack us?"
The one who still retains the contents of his bladder draws crude characters in the dust on the ground, "We are soldiers of the Sentasto. We were ordered to."
"Ah... that name, again. Care to explain exactly what it is?"
Still drawing, "We serve Lord Biruz, and through him, our Master."
"Your Master. And that is?"
His finger shakes badly as he writes, "He Who Wanders the Night."
"Hmm," Kerzoro says.
"Interesting." Sian considers. "Where is this Biruz?"
"He holds court under the city. There are many entrances to his palace."
"The closest entrance, then."
The assassins stand shakily and, and gesture for you to follow them, deeper into the maze of alleyways and streets.
Sian returns his javelin to its holder and follows.
Kerzoro sheathes his sword in a fluid motion, but still looms over the assasins.
They lead the pair of Dragon-bloods deep into the labyrinthine network of alleys, moving surely over cobbled streets and down passages that are, by the smell, public urinals, until they stop, pointing at a small, non-descript shack, leaning up against a much larger, but abandoned building.
"This is it?" Sian asks
An emphatic nod is all the mute assassins give in reply.
"Very well. I suggest you make yourselves scarce... try and find a respectable job, or something. And clean up what's left of your companions. If you don't..." He shrugs, and points to Kerzoro.
Kerzoro grins. Nastily.
The pair of blood-spattered mutes take one further look at Kerzoro before departing at high speed.
Kerzoro enquires, "So then... shall we?"
"After you. Maybe you can scare whoever is in there into submission." He smiles.
Kerzoro rolls his eye, and then steps right on in. As he opens what passes for a door into the lean-to a chill wind rushes out, accompanied by a low moaning sound, making the few torches that provide light in this benights part of the city gutter and flicker out.
The interior of the shack is dimly lit, the illumination coming from a flickery lamp hanging from the far wall. Next to it is another door, more solid this time, from behind which various muffled sounds can be heard.
Kerzoro frowns slightly, and keeps walking, although attempting (... with not much sucess) to be quiet.
The sounds resolve themselves into what sound like deep sighs and low moans, ominous and resonant.
Kerzoro glances back towards Sian, and grips the handle of her sword (just in case) as he continues to move towards the door
Sian is holding another pair of javelins carefully.
The door opens, revealing a passage cut into the stone wall of the adjacent building, a passage that slices a line straight through the ground and deep, deep underground. Lines of torches alternate down the tunnel as the stairs disappear into the murky light.
A gust of wind rushes up, a long moan following up from below, filling the tiny room.
Kerzoro's frown deepens, and he continues on his way down, slowly and carefully. Sian follows, of course.
A smell of dirt and decay strengthens as the pair descend, at one point the tunnel passes through the corner of an old crypt, sliced straight through and down as if it weren't even there, the coffins and sarcophagi all appear to have been opened and emptied.
Kerzoro scowls as he sees the defiled graves, and shakes his head lightly as he continues making his way down.
The smells of death wafting up from below are now accompanied by the muffled and fading sound of voices, many voices in unison.
Now out of the tunnel, Kerzoro and Sian emerge into a vast chamber, cut out of the living rock far below ground. All around are ancient buildings, the stone glowing a faint pale green that provides enough light to see by, although they would both probably rather it didn't.
Down the slope from their position, within the streets of this ancient city, are the shimmery grey forms of hungry ghosts, swarms of them, milling and flowing between the buildings, while at the far end of the main boulevard on which they stand, is a large palatial structure, its roof domed.
Kerzoro stands in silence, while Sian stares around in something approaching shock.
Around this palace, for such it appears to be, stand several groups - some of them are human, some of them are... not. They are entering the palace slowly, almost in a ritualistic fashion.
