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Ch. 31 - Interview at Ishtar

Ch. 31 - Interview at Ishtar

Five after nine. Leaning against the wall next to the West Gate. Had been here for fifteen minutes already and no Riley or Wolfe in sight. Waiting another ten minutes and then deciding to call it. Not a big concern, they're likely both at work today. Probably. Brushing away the disquiet.

Back to my normal five day cycle, one and three out there, two, four and five in here. Back at work tomorrow, so getting ahead take priority today.

The safest place when solo is underground. Outside the gates, up above, when groups run into other groups, there are mostly no issues. But meeting another group while solo? The odds aren't great. Underground, barely anyone to run into, and people naturally avoid each other. When people do end up coming face to face, it usually ends in a fight. Not an absolute certainty, but everyone down there is typically the different sort. It's a good place. My old stomping grounds. But before spending all day in the caves, underneath the sewers and above the ruins, need to follow up on Nightfall's recommendation and head over to Ishtar.

Before the real estate grab and great realignment, House Ishtar had been the largest and wealthiest of the bunch. And the greediest. They'd had their eyes set on the temple, but when everything happened they didn't get it. Mink secured the Mage Tower, Stormhawk the Warrior guild, Haven the Grove, Wyrmsblood the Monastery, and then Solstice... what did Solstice get? Hard even thinking about them. Solstice. Solstice. Snatch went to Solstice - can think about him, sent him a letter - but the location of their House keeps skittering away. Huh. In any case, they did move out of their old house so they did go somewhere new.

House Ishtar remains in their previous accommodations, a manor on the east side of the city situated on an acre lot. Three stories and surrounded by a wrought iron fence. Coming up to the gate and finding it halfway open. Walking up to the front door. No guard. Debating knocking, but then trying the knob, unlocked, and pushing the door open. A small entryway with hardwood floors, and there, directly across from the door, dominating the room, a statue of a woman wearing flowing robes. Beautiful, with long, cascading hair and full, sensual lips. A big, closed mouthed smile. Not exactly friendly, more that it knows something you don't. Coming out of the end of the sleeves where the hands should have been, a pair of sinuous tentacles.

Debating the best way to placate it - aside from the clearly obvious - and a deep growl to my right sending my hand instinctively to my knife. A mountain lion, and beside it, a large, bearded man. Muscled, with a bit of a gut, with a hand on the cat's back. Relaxing my grip after it didn't try to pounce.

“I see you're admiring our patron,” he says. “Are you here on a pilgrimage?”

“I'd never worship this thing.”

Instant malevolence radiating from the statue at my careless words, and the man's open, friendly expression changing to alarm. Turning back to the statue and slowly unsheathing my knife. In one quick swipe cutting open my palm and allowing the blood to drip onto the surface. The whiteish marble absorbing it and the malevolence immediately changing to amusement and pleasure. Using Tracing and then Rune of Mending on the cut, closing the wound, and then allowing the statue to clean off the remainder.

The man shaking his head in disbelief. “Insulting her, and then giving an offering of your own blood. I don't know if you're stupid or very clever. Maybe both. If you aren't here on a pilgrimage, what can we help you with?”

“I heard you were looking for people to help with your expedition. I wanted to see if I could join up for it.”

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that. The man giving me a complete once over. Looking at the statue, then back to me. Blurting out, “Are you a spy?”

“What?” Watching me intently. “No.”

His mouth compressing. “You seem out of place, and you seem like you know more than you should, but I don't think you're lying. I can take you for a proper interview, if you want, but they'll know for sure if you're lying. So I could do that, but, if you want, I'll let you walk out that door right now and not waste anyone's time. Your choice.”

“I'll do the interview now. Thank you.” His eyebrows climbing at my quick response, and then letting loose a belly laugh.

“Now?” The man glancing almost wistfully at the front door. “Shit, now? I guess I walked myself into that one. Well, I guess, if that's what you want. You better do good or we're both going to be in trouble. C'mon.” Beckoning for me to follow.

Staying a few steps behind and following him to the second floor. His cat keeping an eye on me the entire way.

“You're going to be talking with the big lady herself,” he says, over his shoulder, “so be polite, answer as truthfully as you can, and you'll be fine. If you've come to your senses and you want to back out this is your last opportunity.”

Stopping in front of a door and waiting for confirmation. What are we waiting for? Let's do this. The man shrugging, giving a few gentle knocks and then turning the handle. “Hey, Liz.”

“Roy, what are you doing back so soon. Did you forget something?”

The woman making the comment wearing an obviously expensive, and undoubtedly enchanted, set of emerald earnings. Elizabeth Collier, Mistress of House Ishtar. Cleric, and probably the high priestess to that thing they have in the entryway. Another curvy woman also in the room, slightly chunkier than her Mistress. And there, on Collier's desk, a smaller version of the thing in the entryway. Wonderful. It isn't the judgmental type - definitely one of the ones that laughs at misery - hopefully my offering still has me in its good graces.

“On my way out I ran into someone I think you should speak with,” says Roy. “She says she wants to join up.”

“Do I really need to-” glancing at me “-yes, hi, hello. Do I really need to deal with this right now?”

Making my way into the room while they were yammering and taking an available seat.

“I think you should. She seems interesting.”

Sighing, and tossing a sheaf of paper she'd been studying on her desk. “I'll give her a few minutes - but you're staying.”

He had already come inside and was in the process of grabbing his own chair. His cat following after, curling up at his feet, with its eyes, still unblinking, on me.

Collier giving me a disinterested glance, then looking at the small statue. A long moment passing and the woman getting a thoughtful expression. Returning her attention to me.

“Welcome. My understanding is that you want to tag along for our expedition next cycle. In order to do so you need to apply for provisional membership with the House. If everything goes well we'll reconsider your provisional membership in, say, about a month, and hopefully get you up to full status. Is that fine?”

“Yeah, fine by me.”

“Good.” she says, then tilting her head at the other woman. “Annie, here, is going to make sure that everything you say is truthful. Please try not to mince words.”

This could go bad real quick, and suiciding my way out isn't really an option. Their House is very close to the temple.

“I'll try.”

“Please state your full name.”

Here goes.

“Lucilia Macarthy. But, Lucy, please.”

Hopefully these reactions stay funny. Roy sitting back in surprise, then fighting back a smile. Collier wondering if maybe she had misheard, glancing at Annie, but the woman giving a gesture meaning, yeah that's what she said.

Collier looking back at me and letting out a laugh. Looking at Roy, “You're right, this is definitely interesting.” Back to me. “We seem to be off the standard script on the first question. I don't think that's ever happened before. Listen, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make fun of you, but you know why we're reacting like this, right?”

“I'm aware.”

“Good. As long as you know.” The woman taking a settling breath. “Are you related to William Macarthy?”

“No, I'm not.”

“You're not?”

“He's no relative of mine.”

“Okay.” Taking a moment to consider. “What's your relationship with the man, if any.”

“The last time I saw him I got stabbed in the eye. Two days ago, at the gala.”

“Is that right?” Glancing at Annie, who nods. “So you've died already?”

“Yes.”

“That is, well, I'm sorry that happened, but that is actually a plus. I'm going to assume the experience didn't affect you too severely, because you're here and not stuck crying in bed.” Stopping herself before continuing any further. “I apologize, and I apologize for belaboring the point. What's your class?”

“Runemage.”

Glancing at Roy, who shrugs. Glancing at Annie, who also has no answer. Looking at the statue. A couple moments passing. Squinting an eye and giving it a dismissive wave of her hand.

“This is great. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but you really found something, didn't you?” Roy's smug aura unmistakable. “What do you feel you can bring to the House?”

“It's enhancement magic. Roy, do you mind if I see your sword for a second? Test the sharpness and weight before giving it to me.”

Unsheathing it, testing the edge with his thumb, and then handing it over. Using my finger to draw the Rune of Accuracy and activating it. Returning the weapon.

“It,” the man hesitating, feeling the weight and testing the edge again, “it's definitely different. Lighter, somewhat, but noticeably sharper.”

“I can support weapons and armor. I can make everyone able to fight better and take less damage.”

“That sounds very useful.” Collier's eyes momentarily returning to the statue. “How accustomed are you to field work?”

“I can hold my own.”

“What's your level?”

“Eight. Nine in about two hours.”

“Hmm.” Frowning. “That's not great. Make sure to get it up to at least ten by the time you leave. I guess my final question, are you currently a member of another House, or seeking membership in another House?”

“No.”

“In that case,” she says, glancing at Annie for confirmation, “I don't see any particular problem with you coming along. Well, except we're going to want to see how you actually handle yourself in the field. Roy, Daniel's in charge of the expedition now, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't think he's in today.”

“He's not.” Thinking again, and then a finger extending. “Good thing you're here then, right?”

“Liz...”

“Just another errand. Don't do anything crazy, just see how she can manage.”

***

“These are boars.”

“Right,” says Roy. “I don't know where you're at so just do what you can do.”

Is he fucking with me?

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Just take your time. You'll be fine.” His tired platitude not making him seem any less bored. His cat deciding to sack out and sun itself in the nearby grass.

This is goddamn pathetic.

Walking up to the boar and looking down. The animal looking up at me, mouth full of grass, chewing, its little boar eyes begging for mercy. I'm higher than it so it's not even hostile. Oh wait, there it goes, trying to attack. Completely ineffectual against the shield. Whatever. Make it quick. The dagger skewering its eye and dropping it to the ground.

“Happy?”

“That was pretty good. Go do another.”

Motherfucker.

Killing the next one with a flourish, without even bothering to use the shield.

“Are we done here?”

“Good job, good job,” he says, interest being piqued. “There are these lizards around here we may want to do next.”

“Nah, fuck that, let's do Manticores.”

“Manticores?” Much more interested now. “Normally I wouldn't suggest it, but if you insist.”

Manticores. Now these are proper fights. Leonine head and two front paws, and then the poisonous stringer on the tail. Swapping back to the hatchet for the added range and weight. Putting a paw out of commission before getting the head, and keeping the shield ready for the tail, or chopping at the tail after the shield stops it, and then following up while it tried to pull back. Much more variety. Much more fun.

A sudden growl from the cat my only warning as an arrow suddenly whizzes by, killing my current target. Roy coming over with a determined stride, bow firmly held in one hand and a finger to his lips.

“Someone's coming.” His form suddenly blurring in a wave of greens and browns and greys, the colors making him blend into the natural surroundings. “Get over here.”

Pulling me behind a tree and putting my back to it. Crowding me, standing over protectively, and peering around the trunk.

“There's a whole group,” he says. “Stay quiet and let 'em pass. There's no good reason to let them know we're here.”

Steadying myself as his muscled arms filled both sides of my vision. His thick chest rising and falling with each breath. Both of us holding the pose for a couple minutes, with him periodically checking around the tree.

“Looks like they're gone.” The man allowing me some room and putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You okay? You look a bit shook.”

“I'm okay.”

“Okay. I think that's a signal we should to head back in. What are those that you've been collecting, anyway?” The man referring to the pebbles produced by Disjunction.

“They're money. I don't know what we're going to run into in the desert, but they'll be a nice bonus for everyone on top of the pay we're getting for the escort.”

“Is that right? Alright, I've seen more than enough. You're quite capable,” his hand ruffling my hair, and a warm feeling rising at the praise, “but in addition to that level Liz mentioned, I want you to upgrade your weapon to something better than plain steel. And make sure you get clothes for the desert. You're leaving six days from now, on day 3. It'll be four days out, five days there, but most of that time you'll be out at work, and then four days back. Make sure to put in your schedule change request as soon as you can.”

“I'm leaving in six days? Not us? You're not going?”

“They have some important work they want me to do here, so Daniel's responsible for running the show this go around. With you in the mix I think we'll have eleven total, one group of five and one six, and then around fifty people being escorted, plus animals and wagons. You're leaving from the West Gate bright and early, eight ay em sharp.”

Only eleven. They probably wouldn't mind if Evie and Kate joined up, then. Kate they'll take, for sure, but Evie will be a harder sell, and they may try to get her to worship that thing. Doubt that'll fly. Hopefully they'll be up for it the next time we meet up. If we actually meet up.

***

Heading to a different inn for lunch and putting down money for tonight and tomorrow's room. It's a good habit to never stay in one place for too long. Dropping what wasn't needed in the room and then getting lunch. There's the tick, level 9. Assigning points and scouting out the next two Runemancy spells.

Tenth rank.

Infuse: Allows the caster to recharge magical items. Chance of success is increased with more ranks of Arcane Lore, Transference.

That's what Matheson had been advertising. Another likely culprit for why Runemages don't advance very high, and with the cooldown on Copying a gold coin being only a little more than twenty four hours, it looks like they can live very easily with very little effort. Going to need to visit my master at some point and find out when his classes are going to be held. Kinda interested in finding out what kind of people even normally become Runemages in the first place, and stopping by to say hello. Should also browse the pawnshop for things to charge. Going to be heading there soon, if only for a new weapon.

Eleventh rank.

Carve: Causes the caster's hands to harden into sharpened claws. Adds Brawling ranks equal to the caster's Runemancy ranks. Attacks made with the claws have up to a +40 AS. Attacks cause piercing or slashing damage. While active causes the duration of all runes activated to be increased to twice the normal duration. Duration is 1 minute per Runemancy rank.

Brawling? Let's see, there it is. Fifty percent more expensive than Simple Weapons, would have to drop something else to swap over full time, and not great against even moderately armored opponents. Basically requires precision strikes. Hmm. As for the spell, a very interesting effect, but eleven mana to cast and a short duration means it isn't economical. More useful in the future, but also undoubtedly invaluable in a pinch.

Name: Lucilia Macarthy Profession: Runemage Level: 9 Sex: Female Experience: 28,591 (2,700) Age: 20 Until Next: 6,159 Health 71 Mana 61 Stamina 32 Spirit 8 Strength (STR) 56 (3) Constitution (CON) 63 (6) Dexterity (DEX) 68 (14) Agility (AGI) 86 (18) Discipline (DIS) 76 (13) Aura (AUR) 80 (15) Logic (LOG) 71 (15) Intuition (INT) 74 (17) Wisdom (WIS) 44 (-3) Influence (INF) 76 (13)

Name Trainings Bonus Armor Use 6 29 Physical Fitness 10 45 Simple Weapons 10 45 Arcane Symbols 15 60 Magic Item Use 10 45 Harness Power 10 45 Mana Control 10 45 Runemancy 10 45 Arcane Lore, Shaping 10 45 Arcane Lore, Transference 3 15 Survival 10 45 Perception 10 45 Climbing 10 45 Swimming 10 45 First Aid 10 45 Trading 10 45 Stalking and Hiding 10 45

Heading to the general store after lunch and buying several torches and a couple boxes of matches. The Manticores had been nice for showing off, and for Disjunction, but the goal for the moment is accumulating experience. Had unlocked Rune Trap, but need to sew the symbol on a glove, or maybe my cloak, before using it. Nine mana, fairly expensive, but it'll be nice when confronting larger targets. Heading to one of my familiar sewer entrances and heading to the caves below, Blind Stalkers and White Newts the primary targets. Easier prey than Manticores, and the disjuncted stones they produce are black and white, respectively. They'll be solid hunting for the next couple days.

Emerging from the sewers after dark. Tired, wet and shivering, but much further ahead, the little bag filled with about twenty five stones. Heading to the bathhouse for clean clothes and a long soak.

Standing at the bathhouse front desk with my freshly cleaned clothes, debating whether or not to demand entrance to see the Council, and deciding against it. Even after the long soak, still feeling a bit cold. Heading back to the new inn for supper, and foregoing my customary pint in favor of hot tea and the final leaf from my pouch. The others had all been today. Need to stock back up on them, and get some more potent herbs for the trip. The leaf producing that same awful taste, but also making me feel much better, especially with the hot tea and seafood stew.

Up to bed, wrapping myself in the blanket, warm again and well fed. Never been out to the desert. Don't even know where exactly we're heading. Some kind of trading post or maybe some city, could be either. Bit disappointed Roy said he wasn't coming. He's something. My hands starting to wander. Closing my eyes and arriving back in the forest, with the tree behind me and him standing over me.

“I love it,” he says, my fingers simulating him pressing into me, “we've only just met and you're already letting me do whatever I want.”

Continuing with his pace, continuing with mine, then admonishing me for making too much noise. “If you can't keep it down they'll hear.” A crafty look. “Or maybe that's what it is, you want them to hear.”

No, they can't hear. My gasps and whimpers coming out regardless. Increasing his pace and my fingers increasing mine. Using my thumb on that place, a light touch and then more insistent.

“You certainly seem very capable,” his praise filling me again with good feelings, my fingers pressing in more urgently, “but you should be more honest.”

Doing just that and reaching my peak.

“You're going to do great,” he says. “A horny little slut like you'll always be welcome at Ishtar.”

Coming down and letting the fantasy fade. Like any good fantasy: unrestrained, indulgent and utterly imaginary, but a seed of doubt beginning to sprout in the aftermath. Maybe going to Ishtar is a mistake. Maybe it's all going too fast. They must have their reputation for a reason, but after meeting with them they seem legitimately friendly. Sitting for the interview had rubbed my nerves completely raw, but they welcomed me. Then, afterwards, in the forest, he protected me without question and without any expectation. Remembering that, remembering his genuine concern, and his smell, a good smell, and using it to fuel another fantasy.