Zion: Light of the New Moon, Ch 2.1 Myrh
Zion - Light of the New Moon Chapter 2.1
Myrh Thanks For the Memories
The readers have determined that the Myrhenese Caravan will be passing through Ashlai.
I'm not usually much for being anywhere near mages when I'm interested in going unnoticed, but they were entirely too preoccupied with one another. Beo was trying with all his might to engage Jerard in conversation about the transformation from human to eight-foot-tall-wolf-of-destruction and then back to human while the white-skinned mage continued to evade and sidestep, obviously eager to avoid having to answer any questions; I would have felt sorry for him if not for that fact that he provided a very good distraction which helped prevent me from having to do the same.
"So... what does it feel like when you change?" the black husky asked.
"Like changing." Jerard answered.
"Does it hurt, or itch, or is it a good feeling?" Beo continued.
"Who says hurting isn't a good feeling?" the human countered cryptically.
Beo didn't answer at first; I could see a visible shudder run through him as his tail started wagging, "I think it's an amazing talent." he continued, unabated, "Did you have to learn how to do it? Did someone teach you?" he paused again for a second, "Could you teach me?"
Jerard glanced at Beo out of the corner of his eye, a wry grin splitting his small, human mouth, "Teach you to change from a human into a wolf?"
"Yea!" he noted emphatically, "...wait..."
"That would be a little difficult... you aren't a human." Jerard stated, still smirking.
"No... no..." the husky backpedaled verbally, "I meant--"
"I know what you meant." the human interrupted, "That's just my way of saying no." and he walked faster to outdistance Beo.
"Well... maybe you'd let me put my paws on your while you change so I can feel what happens during--" The sounds of travel were loud around me so it didn't take long before the rest of their discussion faded out as they left hearing range. I contemplated following but that thought didn't last more than a moment once I realized it wouldn't look good if someone thought I was trailing them.
Remaining where I had been it was only a matter of minutes before my patience was rewarded with a new distraction; several lower temple functionaries were arguing with Priestess Fanewatcher, and their path took them directly by my wagon. "My Lady... you can't--"
"What can I not do, Gilroy?" she turned her gaze on the speaker, a hedgehog, "Please tell me... I'm DYING to know."
"Your Grace," the second attendant, a potbellied pig interjected, "The change in our travel plans takes us through--"
"I know where it takes us, Oliver." the priestess dismissed the comment, "I don't see how that changes my plans."
"I--" he paused, looking to the first temple worker for aid.
"Are you sure that is wise, my Lady?" Gilroy asked.
"Thank you for your concern." Priestess Fanewatcher noted with finality; it was obviously a dismissal. The two both made as if to say something more, but, in unison they came to the conclusion that it wasn't wise, and left the priestess to wander on her own. I watched her walk just ahead of my wagon for nearly two minutes, apparently caught up in her own mind.
More than happy enough to go unobserved I said nothing, and she finally stood off to the side of the road to wait for her wagon to catch up. As I watched her get left behind she looked up for just a moment, and our eyes met. She smiled; it scared me. Had she known I was listening in? Did she like knowing that I knew?
Despite the unease I had felt about Priestess Fanewatcher's soul-chilling gaze I was able to shrug it off once it had passed; if she had plans for me there was little I could do to stop her and, for now, at least, she hadn't struck me dead with her divine power. One wagon ahead of me I heard just one of the latest sounds of disapproval from the occupant, "Stop! It'll heal on its own!" it was an indignant sound, full of displeasure from Kell. He had obviously not spent any real time being seen to by Myrhenese healers.
The assassin had been injured a few nights earlier during guard duty. I didn't know what the creatures were and I was too busy taking cover to get a good look but it was no secret that Captain Rakken led the defense of the caravan while a select few led the majority of the creatures away from the encampment. Word was that Kell Vederik was one of the latter, though he was not identified by name. I smiled to myself at the thought; no disguise worked as well as acting out of character. The consideration fit me too-- I never would have joined up with the caravan under normal circumstances.
Glancing back to the healer's wagon ahead of me I smiled, "Don't worry, my dear... pain doesn't last forever." it was a bitter-sweet comment I'd heard before; it was told to me out of spite, but I kept it close to my heart regardless... it was like a mantra.
It was almost three hours later when the mixed-breed assassin was finally released from the wagon. I knew he had not wanted to be serviced by a healer, but we both knew that it would have created a bigger commotion if he had ignored Captain Rakken's orders, and so he was forced into compliance. Kell emerged from the wagon fully clothed and masked; he had no obvious signs of injuries or infirmity, which, of course, spoke to the skill of the healer. Myrhenese healers are notorious for their ability to heal their patience but that skill was second only the one encouraging their patients to fervently desire getting better as fast as possible. Honestly, I'm surprised he only screamed a few times.
With Kell out of the wagon it meant that I was much less free to be about on my own; despite our arrangement he still seemed to have taken an interest in observing my activities... he didn't trust me, which I found troublesome, but at least he hadn't shown any outward signs of knowing that I didn't trust him; in my years I'd learned that such a situation was almost as good. Kell was no fool, but fortunately he wasn't as familiar with interacting with others as I am. Once he disappeared into the crowd of the caravan I realized that it was a good time to relocate, and I climbed off of the wagon and began seeking out what I searched for. I found it three wagons up.
"The years haven't been as kind to you, Lieutenant." Artemisia asked quietly of Yearl Rakken.
"Captain now." he corrected her. The two were seated on the open tailgate of the wagon, facing backwards. Considering their facing it only made sense that I invite myself up onto the bench beside the wagon driver, a tired-looking ostrich.
"Need someone to hold the reins?" I asked with a smile.
"The Goddess provides." he responded, gratefully handling them over, "Just keep us on course... gonna catch a few winks then I'll take over again." he offered, and summarily passed out. I focused on the discussion going on behind me, willfully ignoring the disappointment that came from missing out during my talk with the driver.
"Back with the Biteleaf," he said, answering one of her questions, "I wasn't certain though, until the Banderleers. When you took the other guardsman out into the forest it reminded me of the battle of the Black Fields."
Artemesia chuckled in response, "It worked better this time."
"Hmm... practice?" the Captain questioned, adding a slight chuckle of his own. Did he know more about her than the little she revealed to the rest of us?
"That guardsman was good... very good." the dragoness pointed out.
"Broken fingers and a few scrapes, I would say so." I heard the jingling of the lion's armor, a give away that he was nodding in thought; he did that a lot, "What about this?" I heard more jingling.
"That?" Artemisia questioned, "Nothing." she was a bad liar.
"That cut in your armorisn't nothing." Yearl countered, "And it doesn't have the look of a Banderleer strike either."
"It's complicated." the dragoness responded.
"You don't think I should press the issue?" his question was emotionless. I heard a noncommittal grunt from the dragoness, "As you wish." the lion noted. To be honest, I was surprised at the response; Captain Yearl Rakken was never the one to back away from a good argument-- there was obviously more to him in different circumstances than I gave him credit for. Despite how well I thought I knew him there would be more for me to learn; I'm sure it would come in useful.
"We're leaving the road." Artemisia spoke up suddenly. To be honest, I'd been more interested in their discussion than where we were going. Following the wagon ahead of me, we had indeed left the road as the caravan proceeded further northward than the Highway traveled.
"Driver?" Yearl spoke up, and I froze, "Why are we leaving the road?" I didn't respond. "Driver?"
"Priestess Fanewatcher's direction." spoke up a voice from beside the wagon. I let out a quiet breath, saved by Brother Farstrider.
"I had expected to take the Highway straight to Zion." the lion noted, "Why are we continuing north?"
"I couldn't say, Captain." the priest responded, "Anya had mentioned wanting to add another stop to the trip... it should only be a few hours out of our way."
"That's strange." Yearl stated in his thinking-voice, "The only thing this way within a few hours travel is--"
"Ashlai." Artemesia spoke up.
"Yes... that's the place." Priest Farstrider confirmed.
"Why would she want to go to Ashlai?" Yearl asked, apparently of nobody in particular.
"She mentioned adding it to the stops for the pilgrimage so everyone could pay homage to the loss of life." the wolf noted.
"That sounds exactly like something our resident priestess of death would say." Artemesia noted flatly.
"Thank you, Brother Farstrider." Yearl offered, "Perhaps we'll see you tonight at mass."
"It will be my pleasure, Captain." the wolf responded, "M'lady." he was obviously referring to Artemisia since he hadn't so much as caught sight of me.
"You look ill at ease." the lion spoke up after Priest Farstrider had ridden onward.
"I hadn't ever expected to return to Ashlai." Artemesia stated quietly. It seemed like an odd thing to hear from her. I was able to tell that she was an accomplished soldier, but few caravans ever left the Highway; it seemed unlikely that she would have ever been to the ruins.
The comment didn't seem to affect Captain Rakken, who apparently took it at face value, "Are you afraid?"
Artemisia let out a single, quick, mocking 'ha', adding, "If I was, do you think I would admit it?"
"Good point." the lion responded, with a soft chuckle, "Though I'm wondering what you're expecting to find."
"Nothing I want to find, I assure you." she responded, "That part of my life is done and over."
"We all face our demons at some point." he countered.
I'm certain I heard an objection coming from Artemisia, but she didn't get a chance to say anything-- she was cut off by the sound of a third body landing on the tailgate, and Beo's familiar voice cut in, "Did you hear? Did you hear? We're going to Ashlai!"
"We heard." Artemesia stated gruffly.
"It seems eerie." the husky noted, "I mean... first we find out that the Demon of Ashlai is in the caravan, and now we're going there!"
"Yes..." the dragoness agreed flatly, "eerie."
"Do you think that's the way the priestess got it to agree to come along?" Beo continued, "You know... that it would come along only if we stopped in Ashlai?"
"Somehow, I think the demon would have been less inclined to come along." Yearl spoke up.
"Why would you say that?" the magus questioned.
"I would think that most demons would prefer to escape their past." the Captain noted, "Demons do not come from pleasant places, Mr. Kyr."
"Hmmm." the husky acknowledged, "I hadn't thought of that." and he was quiet for a few moments before speaking up again, "What about you, my Lady? What are you going to do when we get to Ashlai?"
"Stay with the wagons." she answered flatly.
"Why?" Beo inquired, "You're not scared, are you?"
"Terrified." she answered. I couldn't tell if she was humoring him or if she was serious. Knowing what I knew about the nigh-invincible warrior that was Artemisia, that thought was enough to leave me more shaken than Priestess Fanewatcher's gaze. It apparently had a similar effect on Beo, who quickly took his leave.
"You're not alright, are you?" Captain Rakken spoke up after a lengthy pause.
"I'm not sure." Artemisia replied.
"Of?"
"Of what we-- what I might find." she admitted, and they were quiet for almost an hour until the dragoness spoke up, "I remember that tree." she spoke, and I heard the ripple of her metal mail as she pointed, "On the way in our unit commander took an arrow and died underneath it." the comment caught me as odd... was I hearing it out of context?
"Do you see that dip in the earth over there?" Yearl spoke up, "I lost thirty men under my command to arrows getting from the tree line to cover."
"Just thirty?" Artemisia spoke up, "You could embellish it a little, Captain."
"I am not used to losing men." the lion admitted.
"What a horrible blow to a young lieutenant's ego." the dragoness laughed, "On our first rush we lost over half our battalion... almost three hundred dead before the real fighting began."
"How many of you were left when the battle ended?" Yearl asked quietly.
"Three."
"I'm sorry." the lion responded.
"Not as sorry as the Banniharians were." the comment wasn't spoken with any levity, "How many did you end with, Captain?"
"Two hundred and eighty nine." he answered without a moment's pause, "Two hundred and eleven souls under my command were sent to the Goddess."
"Your regiment was the one that pierced their hold of the high ground, wasn't it?" she asked.
"It was." he confirmed, "Some of them also caught sight of the Demon of Ashlai and rescued what was left of the Demon's regiment."
"But you only lost two hundred men in your battalion?" she asked.
"Two hundred and eleven." he corrected.
"Two hundred and eleven." she acknowledged.
"I'm surprised you still live this life." he added after another pause.
"I don't have a choice..." she countered, "but you do."
"Perhaps not as much of one as you might first think, my lady." he responded.
Unable to stand it any longer, I glanced over my shoulder at the two. They sat, looking blankly at the wagon that followed us as if gazing back in time rather than direction. The were each hunched forward, life-weary shoulders bowed; for the first time I realized that Artemisia had to have been far older than she looked. The two grizzled veterans just sat next there, heads resting against one another's as the sun slowly began to find its way to the horizon. I've always been perceptive, and I didn't miss that her talon was interlaced with his paw, or that they both shed tears.
* * * * *
The Myrhenese Caravan is on its way to Zion!
The first part of Chapter 1 presents the group's next story arc decision.
Contributing readers now get to choose the way the party will face this situation. Myrhenese Contributing Readers each get 1 vote on how to proceed. Anyone may spend 1 Willpower to get a second vote (with a successful social roll, Target number of 20). The following options are available:
1) Set camp within the ruins to pay homage to the battle that was fought. SUCCESS
2) Travel through the ruins right now and keep moving; this isn't a guided tour. SUCCESS
3) Set camp outside the ruins then pass through them at a better hour-- better safe than sorry. SUCCESS
4) Set camp outside the ruins then skirt them in the morning; this is close enough for everyone. SUCCESS/FAILURE
Contributing Readers, make sure you make your vote before midnight (pst) on Friday, June 24th.
Beo Kyr won the vote to receive the Moonwave Tunic. Congrats, Beo!
No character in this group had enough votes to be claimed as the favorite of the chapter so no bonus is handed out. Bummer!