And Her Herald, peace be upon him, was the one who said: Oh people, give greetings to those you meet, and give succor to the ones in need. Give prayer before sleeping and the gates of heaven will be open to you.
And Her Herald, peace be upon him, was the one who said: Oh men of this world, fear the Goddess in women. I command you, treat them well, for they are in Her image.
And Her Herald, peace be upon him, was the one who said: Oh people, the Goddess did not send me from the Distant World to teach you to curse people and hate them. Rather, I was sent to teach you the higher morals and edicts of Heaven. Do no doubt the word of Heaven, for that is a sin most grave, and your punishment will be burning hellfire.
- An excerpt from the New Suras of the Edict of Heaven.
The problem with echoes was that they made distance rather difficult to ascertain. As the sound of the approaching footsteps overwrote each other, numbers too were hard to judge. But here in this dark pit, surely people were a good thing? Or so I would have thought, were I still new to this world.
And with that, I drew my sword, my Azag-Gishban, its comfortable weight lending me purpose. Summoning my shield to me, a massive edifice of wood and iron formed. It was a match to the one I had found beside Gersal’s corpse. Like me, it seemed, my Mimic was capable of learning new things.
Looking at the little girl, I gave her a nod but I couldn’t help but notice that she still looked queerly at me. However, gone now was the greater part of her initial horror.
“If we could hear them, it is more than likely that they have heard us. Pray that whoever approaches means well, but expect the worst,” I whispered just loud enough to be heard.
“You don’t have to tell me…” was her response, given in a tone that children reserved for nagging parents. “Won’t be finding me with my knickers down. Time to try something a little different,” she added as her expression changed to one of focused concentration.
“Now remember what I told you…” was all that I could bleat out before she began to cast a spell.
Words, quick as a rushing stream poured out of her as she grasped her staff, the markings on its wooden surface glowed dimly before disappearing. Their arcane meaning, like with other spells I had encountered, of course, eluded me. Nonetheless, if I can even put it into words, I was given an impression of sharp, controlled flow. It was a mystery.
And a part of me reasoned on an almost instinctual level, that if I were to truly comprehend her magic, I would be well down the path of madness. For such was the price to be paid for bending the laws of reality.
“Alright, it's done. Ready,” she claimed in a soft voice.
“And what exactly do you mean by that?”
Annoyingly she just shook her head before pointing down the walkway. I raised my visor to give myself a better field of view. A will-o-wisps of light were coming closer, a lantern’s glow if I was not mistaken.
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Being of natural flame, the approaching light was a different shade and hue to the purples thrown out by my Zajasite. In short order, the two lights pushed against each other to reveal our respective parties.
Facing us was an unlikely pair, a slender man and a petite woman who looked to be almost diametric opposites. The woman was wearing loose flowing robes and a wide broad-brimmed hat that tapered up into a smooth cone. At her waist was a lantern, and she carried a wooden staff adorned with many strange fetishes of bone and dull glass. A wizard or some sort of magic user, at a guess. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for having the foresight to down the Mana potion.
The man, in contrast, was tall and lean. He wore loose, utilitarian clothing typical of the local style, and across his lower arms and legs, the dull glint of riveted mail was visible. At his hips hung a lantern and two swords, one long and the other short. Both of them were sleeping for the moment in curved lacquered scabbards of smooth dark wood.
It was the man who addressed us, “That is Gersal’s shield. Where is and what have you done with him?” His voice was flat and calm, but in his eyes flared a restrained anger.
“Where is he!?” shrieked the small woman at his side almost petulantly. It was the well-practiced tone of one used to getting their way through eroding the other’s spirit. “Mana is unquiet around him, I tell you he’s the tunnel killer!”
I looked the pair of them over, registering a vague feeling of familiarity. “He is dead, and not by my hand,” I explained, eyes shifting from the woman to the man and back again, looking for any signs of threat. “...And I am not this ‘tunnel killer’ or whatever you’re talking about,” I added, hoping to buy some time at least. Even to me, the words sounded unconvincing thought it was the truth.
As I did so, my mind wove the threads together, giving clearer shape to the recent memory. They were members of Gersal’s adventuring party. The woman’s name was Tally, but the man remained a mystery to me. I was taken suddenly by an overwhelming urge to know, and against my better judgment, I had already silently formed the spell that would sate my curiosity
Muram Al’ Hazin - Dervish (Human lvl.15)
Health: 181/255
Stamina: 36/51
Mana: 9/9
Even as the spell brought to me the information that I sought, like a faithful servant, I hissed inwardly. Had the woman detected my arcane prying? Her angry disposition remained and there was no change to the set of her face or the lines of her body. Tally had not been able to detect my secret spell, either that or she was an accomplished actor.
“Where is he, you lying cur! I know you’ve done something with him!” she shrilled voice warbling in near hysteria. She looked down and away for a moment. “If it wasn’t for the damn pack of rats we wouldn’t have been separated. I told him, told him so many times we shouldn’t have taken jobs down here…” she mumbled to herself, her voice barely audible.
Without warning my ward decided to add her piece. “Look, we had nothing to do with him. We ran into a big blobby slimy thing, and there were rats and stuff. I think that that might have been what got ‘im!” the half-elven girl exclaimed.
Muram glared at us, his anger simmering silently for several long moments before he finally exploded. "A Quiverings has not been seen in these parts for a generation. I demand you take us to him. I will see for myself the truth of your words!" His voice cracked under the strain of his emotions.
Irritated by his combative tone, I took a deep, exasperated breath and pointed in the direction we had come from. "You'll find him back that way," I said tersely.
"You're coming with us, to verify your claims. You are hiding something… not a lie, no, but not the whole of the truth," Muram insisted, his face hardening with each passing second.