1 Soul Bound
1.2 Taking Control
1.2.2 An Awakening Epiphany
1.2.2.8 A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
They set off through Libri towards the bridge over to Mercato, taking their time, not speed running. Kafana looked around as they walked, appreciated the sight of boisterous groups of students chatting together, and the occasional flashes of mana as one student demonstrated a point they were making, by changing the colour of their cloak or making a talking head briefly appear and stick its tongue out.
She brought up her overlay to check their route, and noticed that Wellington had now annotated Basso, dividing it up into areas. In the South West corner there were some barracks with their own exit through the wall, labelled “Soldier’s Gate”. Near the Gate of Sorrows was an area catering to travellers, full of inns, boarding houses, stables and food stalls that he’d labelled “Bedlam”. By the northern part of Mud Road was the Roave, which he’d noted got pretty rough at times. In the center of the South wall was a boat-only exit backed by a tiny harbour for flat-boats, that he’d labelled “Swamp Gate”.
Stretching along the South wall, from Barracks to Stadia, was a narrow area labelled “Aia” where the farmers tending the fields closest to the City lived. North of that, though, was a largely abandoned area he’d labelled “Spettro”, and in the centre of it was an area about a kilometer square that he’d labelled “Phase I”, with a suggested position for the new Adventurer’s Guild building near a crossroads. She was pleased to see the Orphanage would be close by, making it easy for new adventurers to help them out.
Kafana: “Wellington, I like the site you and Vittoria picked. Plenty of room for expansion. Emmanuelle doesn’t think there will be any problems getting rights of passage and permission to upgrade the connecting roads?”
They were walking over the Bridge of Fists now, and into Mercato itself. Wellington replied in chat.
Wellington: {Better not to risk rumours until we’ve secured them. But yes, there’s a standard legal process, and with Lady Pia agreeing to be an honorary patron of the project, the odds of someone objecting are practically zero. We can probably also get permission for mounted adventurers to use Soldier’s Gate. Businesses near the iron foundry pay a small sum per cart to send their goods out that way.}
Bulgaria: {The Ghetto area near the foundry is a bad place to live. Apparently there was a big tidal wave about 200 years ago that destroyed much of the South West of Etruscan region. Refugees flooded into Torello and, while Cov’s priests wouldn’t allow the nobles to deny them hospitality, they got packed into the area containing tanneries, slaughterhouses, and all the sorts of industries that were dirty, smelly, dangerous, poorly paid and grindingly hard work.}
Alderney: {I’ve been there with Harlequin. They may be packed like rabbits into a warren, but there’s a strong community spirit among them. Not much hope, but a lot of pride.}
Kafana looked at the rest of their route. They’d be skirting Bedlam then going through the Boemo which contained tall square blocks of residences facing inwards upon small courtyards, for workers in the rest of the city who couldn’t afford anything better, and aspiring artists and craftsmen trying to start businesses out of their homes. Beyond that was the fenced encampment containing decorated huts and wagons surrounding central cooking fires, where the Vecci lived, along with a smattering of Slavs, Bergundish and Iberians according to Wellington’s notes.
In the very center of Basso, where the Spettro, Boemo, Vecci and Ghetto areas met, was Palazzo Pazzi, the home of Lord Jacopo Pazzi and his family. She shook her head. She’d rather not think about him, and luckily their route didn’t go that way. She didn’t need more stress. They were entering the dusty narrow paths in Boemo now, surrounded by tall windowless walls. She needed to get her head sorted.
{Balthazar, keep track of things people say they do to relax and get their emotions back under control. Running, meditating, petting animals, doing maths, get out into wide open nature spaces with few humans, my cooking by myself with plenty of time - there ought to be a common theme. Can a room be designed for the Burrow to do that sort of thing, and enhance it?}
Kafana: {Tomsk, what do you do, when your thoughts are going in circles and your brain doesn’t seem to be working right?}
Tomsk: {You can try to break the cycle by drinking, but that usually just exaggerates what you’re already feeling. My father drank like that. I prefer to keep drinking sociable and use concentrating upon practising a physical skill to calm myself.}
Bungo: {Divine Mountain was big on training your seishin in order to achieve wu wei. I admit, though, that I read Musashi and I could never figure out what he meant by the Void that lets you perceive that which you cannot understand or comprehend.}
The area around them was surprisingly quiet, except for some light lute music coming from a nearby roof. She felt peaceful. Almost sleepy.
Tomsk: {Ah, I can help you there. "By knowing things that exist, you can know that which does not exist."...}
Tomsk trailed off. They were standing still, now, listening to the music, except for Wellington. Some workmen came up and one of them stabbed her with a carpenter’s chisel. Hmm, she’d have to remember to ask Alderney to fix the hole in her clothes later. Nice music.
[You have taken 200 damage. You have 9,800/10,000 hp remaining.]
[You have taken 200 damage. You have 9,600/10,000 hp remaining.]
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Wellington was getting hit too, but managed to reach Tomsk and wrap Tomsk’s fingers around something, then he stood still, and carried on being stabbed. Tomsk, however, exploded into action, awkwardly drawing his sword with his left hand then slashing at the men stabbing Alderney. Nothing happened. That was a shame. Alderney seemed to be bleeding lots and lots. The music was nice enough, but it seemed a bit repetitive. Why was the musician doing that?
[You have taken 200 damage. You have 9,400/10,000 hp remaining.]
[You have taken 200 damage. You have 9,200/10,000 hp remaining.]
[You have taken 600 damage from a critical hit. You have 8,600/10,000 hp remaining.]
[You have taken 50 bleeding damage. You have 8,550/10,000 hp remaining.]
Tomsk swore and disarmed two of them by cutting their hands, then turned and ran towards Kafana.
[You have taken 200 damage. You have 8,350/10,000 hp remaining.]
[You have taken 200 damage. You have 8,150/10,000 hp remaining.]
[You have taken 50 bleeding damage. You have 8,100/10,000 hp remaining.]
Tomsk: “Kafana, they’re innocent puppets! Stun them, then break the spell!”
[You have taken 600 damage from a critical hit. You have 7,500/10,000 hp remaining.]
[You have taken 100 bleeding damage. You have 7,400/10,000 hp remaining.]
Tomsk had reached her own attacker now. He threw the carpenter at the wall, then firmly clasped both her hands around Wellington’s athame.
[You have taken 100 bleeding damage. You have 7,300/10,000 hp remaining.]
Fuck!
She imagined everyone nearby who wasn’t in her party as a target.
Kafana, full voice: “Stop right there!” She poured the mana in, willing just that one line to be sufficient, trying to feel again the outrage she’d felt earlier at Lugo Ponzi.
[You have taken 100 bleeding damage. You have 7,200/10,000 hp remaining.]
They paused, and that was enough. She bought her purple gem out from her stash and passed the athame back to Tomsk. One looked about to stir. She repeated her stun. Ok, now for the mage. Break the spell? Hmm, he was using mind magic, wasn’t he? She brought out her green gem too, and touched them both to her Guardian’s Pendant.
[You have taken 100 bleeding damage. You have 7,100/10,000 hp remaining.]
Tomsk was placing a glowing red potion into one of Alderney’s hands, and the athame into her other. Good, that gave her time. She wanted something about seeing into people’s heads, something with a bit of edge, a bit of aggression. A bit of fire? She sang the first verse of Rolling in the Deep, almost chanting it as a challenge.
She reached for his mind, but there was a barrier around it. She needed to knock hard. More gems. She scooped a whole handful of them off the shelf in her storage, never missing a beat, then poured more mana in.
> {another verse}
The barrier was cracking. She pleaded silently to Cov and Lun. “He’s breaking your hospitality, he’s enslaving our wills. I offer you myself as your instrument.”
> {another verse}
The barrier shattered, and she was inside the musician’s mind, which appeared to her as a sparse echoing hallways. Clinical. Unemotional. Hollow.
Kafana: =Stop right there!=
She visualised detonating a flash-bang grenade, bent her will to it and a metal object appeared to drop onto the hallway floor ahead of her.
Kafana: It doesn’t affect me!
She bent her will hard, forcing the reality around her to conform. This was so unlike her previous gentle excursions into the minds of others, even when she’d been inside Kullervo. This felt like combat.
The grenade exploded, and nearby walls shattered. She snagged some pieces.
*Grattelard touched the blue-haired mark in the plaza but her mind was protected*
*Grattelard speaking to the thieves guild member: “I’ll pay you 5 zecchi for her purple gem” and being bargained up to 8, while thinking “sucker”.*
*Grattelard looking down at her walking into his kill zone, noting with satisfaction that she’d been scared into putting away her artifacts as he’d planned, and thinking “fool”.*
The wall had reformed now, and was rapidly shrinking, growing cruel iron spikes.
Kafana: The wall passes through me, nothing here can hurt me! I’m massive, I’m the powerful one here!
More will power, more mana. Thanks Tomsk; soft style rocks. She grinned to herself, watching herself expand until she could see the whole maze. Grattelard’s core was grimy and unconnected with the clean, empty, endlessly looping hallways. A decoy, huh? She reached down with her great arms towards the core.
Kafana: =Why?=
She formed the question into an arrow and shot it straight into the core, then grabbed for the answer. It was like tearing off a stubborn piece of toffee, that was also trying to fight back. It was an effort, and she felt herself leave some information of her own behind, but she got an answer, not just a memory.
Grattelard: =A priest with a dragon ring paid me 2 zecchi up front and 3 more upon proof of invalidation. You’re a tough bitch. I should have held out for 15.=
She could sense he was holding back, but she wasn’t going to push her luck. She started withdrawing, doing as much damage as possible and sending a final thought.
Kafana: =You should return the money. I have deities on my side.=
She could sense the mocking in his confident reply: =So do I.=
[You have taken 100 bleeding damage. You have 1,400/10,000 hp remaining.]