Chapter the Second, The Road to Canagadi

#1

Chapter I, The Six Degrees of Joachim Ebellos is complete (though still confusing :P)

Here in this thread, we will begin Chapter II, The Road to Canagadi.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#2

The following day the mismatched companions gathered outside Abodroc’s Bronze Gate.

The well-trod merchant’s road beyond the gates of the city, snaked north across drying tableland and grazing lands for many miles, veered east then north once more, now parallel to the vast Trade-Sea which lay less than a dozen miles to the east from this route.

From there, they would travel through no-man’s land for many more miles still. These would be lands outside the Ban-Ral-Sab Caliphate’s dominion, where independent (and highly paranoid) walled city-states still dotted the otherwise uninspiring landscape and where merchants still roamed, but also, where the perils of the wilds were all too real and palpable.

They would know they had arrived in Canagadi, their ultimate destination, when the Great Mountains of Seeneryp rose up from the horizon seemingly blocking all travel further north.

Somewhere in that small mountain-drowned country, where the clime was unusual and dozens of unique spice-plants flourished like no where else, sat the great stone keep of St. Hurdegilda and the Sisters of Silence.

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Hezzab snorted as Nisher Stryne strolled up to the group, leering all about. Zuan was busy checking the straps of his howdah, but managed a scowl at Nisher as well.

Iskander was already there, his arms crossed, a strange look of bemusement on his face, as if he was contemplating a great secret known only to him. Next to Iskander, arms also crossed, stood a bear of a man with an emotionless, disinterested look in his eyes. This was Tagu.

Saano seemed lost in thought as well as he joined the others, barely looking up from a tome he was reading, but nodding acknowledgement at his new companions.

The sun was shining bright this morning and the skies were clear.

An auspicious beginning?

(OOC: Bits of info sent to Iskander via PM)

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#3

Nisher Stryne strolled up to the small group lazily, stretching and yawning - he was well rested; in fact, it felt like he had been out for a fortnight! Nish's eyes flicked over each of the party members momentarily, taking each of them in. A low whistle parted from the spellwriter's lips as he noted the large newcomer to their 'merry' band of travellers, and a wry smile appeared on his lips, "Well, who's this one, then?" Nish addressed Iskander, assuming the reason he was standing next to the stranger was that he was aquainted with him, "Not even out the gates and old Ebellos has managed to give us a surprise."
The spellwriter's eyes lingered on Tagu for some time - undecided on what to make of the fellow- before he walked over to Saano, making sure to give Zuan and his odorous camel a wide birth, but sneaking a sardonic grin at the Trade Priest. Nisher peered over Saano's shoulder to catch a peek at what the tattooed man was reading.

Nisher was truly in a great mood, today; although he never would admit such a thing! He liked travelling, and he liked throwing himself into the unknown, and he -loved- annoying the Zuan Coursi, so the day would be sweet. The platinum bezoom which Ebellos had given Nisher remained tucked behind his belt, unused - he was only two days in Abodroc and his travelling gear was not even unpacked so purchasing fresh equipment was not a necessity. He had spent his smaller coin on dried rations and general supplies. The request for money was only truly an act to see how eager the elder Trade Priest was to get Nish on this journey.
Yes, that snake-eyed look Ebellos gave when Nish had asked for some of his hard-earned coin remained fresh in the spellwriter's memory, and it put him slightly ill-at-ease. Nisher would be cautious. He felt that not all was as it seemed.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#4

Saano

Hm...Byakhee...Byakko...Ah! There it is, B'kakor. Not much new information here, though that particular binding circle looks promising. A combination of aural and physical bonds, to chain the spirit and prevent it from fleeing...I wonder what the materials are for that...?

Saano took absent note of his companions as they gathered (Tagu needed no introduction, for his purpose and employer were obvious), and once Nisher joined their ranks, the last of the group to arrive, he marked his place in the tome and looked to each in turn, a half-smile on his lips that didn't quite reach to his eyes. "Are we all ready? I should think an early start will give us enough time to take a rest for meal during the worst of the mid-day heat. And the sooner we depart, the sooner we'll arrive."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#5

"Yes, we should be off soon," said Iskander. "Tagu here is a friend of mine who agreed to come long, as a favour to me," not elaborating that he had paid for this favour, painfully, in advance. "He's a good fighter, but not one for conversation. "

"I normally don't do this, but it may be useful to know our employer has not been completely fortright with us. It seems he has been getting around a bit , coming back from abroad shortly before hiring me. Now, I don't begrudge a man his secrets, but it seems odd. What purpose did saying otherwise serve I wonder?"

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#6

Zuan ignored Stryne's sneer, finishing the final straps on Hezzab's howdah. "I am sure it is nothing," he said in answer of Iskander. "Joachim has many business ventures abroad; he was likely attending to financial matters unrelated to our..." He gestured, searching for the right word. "Our enterprise," he shrugged.

Satisfied with the howdah, he placed his hands on his hips and looked about. "He is late," he said simply. Then, from behind, a voice called out.

"I am quite on time, sir!" A young man, perhaps twenty, wearing a yellow kaftan and green turban approached leading a heavily-laden camel. He smiled broadly, a thin beard framing white teeth. "Do not fret, Master Zuan. I would not make you late for your journey." He smiled at the others.

"Azrec, my apprentice," Zuan introduced. "He will maintain correspondence with us from Abodroc. I trust Joachim, but it is useful to have another party to keep things in perspective."

Azrec nodded. "I will keep news to you as best I can manage. The messengers say the road to Canagadi is ill-kept." His smile grew more forced. "No doubt you will be safe, with such fine warriors with you," he nodded to Tagu and Iskander.

"No doubt," Zuan repeated dryly. He nodded to the camels. "Tether Maurban to Hezzab, if you please." He looked again to Iskander. "Regardless of where Master Ebellos has been, our mission is the same. Let us concern ourselves with what lies ahead, yes?"

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#7

The company rode for four whole days without the slightest bit of incident. The first day they crested the rusty hills outside Abodroc, and passed its vast orchards and vineyards. That night they stayed at an inn inside the walls of Garafala, a small town of six hundred souls.

The second day and third, took them past gigantic fields and vast mesas, the Ban-Ral-Sab’s bread-basket and grazing lands. The road here was a busy thoroughfare. Perhaps surprisingly, many mercenaries and hedge-knights seemed to be traveling to and fro, and less so merchants, but then again, autumn was here, and soon the merchants, like the geese, would start heading south of Abodroc to trade, and these northern routes would become desolate by winter. On the second night the companions stayed inside the walls of a small country villa, rented them cheaply by a friend of Zuan Coursi’s, the third night they rented rooms in a small nameless castle used as a vast hostel for travelers.

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“B’kakor are foul”, Girontus Medranos insisted in his book, as Saano perused the tome a third time since they had left Abodroc.

“…quick-silver is the key if the B’kakor are swarming. Additionally, no personal information of any kind should ever be revealed to the B’kakor. The more it knows, the more dangerous it is…”

“The B’kakor like to haggle and bargain. Do not fall for their trap. As well, never promise the demons anything…”

“Keep women away from the B’kakor. They are particularly ripe for possession by the monkey-demon, and are powerless to Dispirit it, even in numbers…”

“…three vile types of B’kakor exist, each more dangerous in progression. The Ninth-Word of Thol uttered in conjunction with the Five Protocols, and usage of the proper binding circle, shall easily distinguish the lesser two from the true evil, the B’kakor King….”

“…once freed of their flesh-prison they must be dealt with quickly for their agility and speed is legendary among demon-hunters. Likewise the Dispirited person must be immediately burned three times in succession with a hot-iron, and then dipped three times in running water. Then only…”
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The fourth day out passed without excitement as well, and toward late afternoon, the travelers turned due north at the crossroads that unofficially separated the Ban-Ral-Sab’s Dominion with that of the northern territories. Twelve miles east of here were the shores of the mighty Trade Sea.

It was here at this cross-roads also, in a small station-house manned by a single clerk, where Zuan Coursi picked up his letter which had flown here for him by raven, only hours before.

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Zuan, hope your road is paved with rindods, It is I, Azrec.

Day #1 since your departure:
All is well here. Don Ebellos dining at the Seven Palms rubbing meaty elbows with quite a few of the Bursars.

The annual warehouse fees have gone up as of yesterday. “This is the final straw that snaps our spine!” some were overheard saying.

Day #2:
Ifon Obroscol, the Bursar, asked of you when I accidentally ran into him yesterday. I told him you were off to Canagadi. “Oh?” he says. Yes, I says. “Who will be awarded the Canagadi spice route is still an undecided question” he says, and so on…

Later still…

Overheard in never mind where and how… (though I’d swear in an Abodrosi Court-chamber that Ebellos was alone at the time)

Someone Unseen: Do tell

Joachim Ebellos: Yes, the spellwriter showing up at my door was the final piece of the puzzle. The others were hard enough—like herding cats—but then this one just walks up to my manse and well, you know the rest.

Someone Unseen: You have done well.

That is all. I heard some noises next, and had to evacuate my—position. I’ll await your word.
-Azrec, son of Tazrec

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Toward sunset the mounts were visibly tired, especially Nisher’s nag and the overloaded Maurban. The road here was unpaved and narrow. To each side, dry, parched shrub-land proliferated, as far as the eye could see. A new realization came upon them then. This would be the first night they would have to camp beneath the stars. There was little to be had for shelter or protection from the elements in this terrain.

The sun was setting quickly, despite not having any mountains to hide behind. soon it would be dark. And Nisher was still concerned about the warning the station-clerk had given them...

"Moadi birds have been spotted recently. They say a few travelers have disappeared. Be careful these next few nights as you head north. The next town is not for many miles."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#8

Saano

"I think that's about as far as we're going to get for today. Lets stop here and make camp." Saano began looking around the area immediately beside the road, trying to find a cluster of rocks usable as a firebreak. Less work hauling rocks was worth the extra minute of searching.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#9

Nisher Stine hurriedly agreed with his tattooed companion, slowing Jeza, his nag to a slow walk - for the last half hour or so his poor, weary animal had been releasing a worrying wheezing whistle with every few exhales, and Nish was worried the horse would collapse! "Shoulda grabbed something a bit pricier," he muttered to himself, yet he gave Jeza a reassuring pat on the neck and muttered quietly to the animal in a rare display of empathy; "To all the beaten and downtrodden in this world, hey girl?" Nisher kept his eyes peeled also for a suitable place to stop, then with an exclaimation of "Ah!" He pointed to a natural dip in the ground - already largely cleared and with signs of an old, previous campfire which suggested previous travellers had made use of this point; "How about there?" He questioned to the group in general.
Nish was eager to get off Jeza and get a small camp established. He was spooked by the Station-Clerk's words about the Moadi-birds. The spellwriter had never seen one himself, but he had heard plenty of gruesome tales - perhaps just superstition - about the scaled creatures' razor wings and sharpened, toothed beaks.
"Keeping a watch might be smart, tonight. I'll take the final watch, if there are no objections." Nish's hand found it's way to his coveted spellwriter's tome beneath his cloak, and he absently stroked the book.
After a moment's silence, Nisher brought up a question almost casually, "Have any of you seen Moadi-birds before? That Station Clerk mentioned them... I hear that it's not the scales you have to worry about; they can really get in your head and make you freeze in fear." The simple fact he wasn't being obnoxious is suggestion enough that Nish was troubled.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#10

"I know them only by rumor," Zuan said, dismounting from Hezzab. "Let us hope they are only that." He gazed out over the roadside. "You don't suppose there are better places to set camp?" he asked, knowing the answer. "Ah well."

Tethering the camels, he made a quick inventory of Maurban's saddlebags. The camel, older than Hezzab, was quiet and more docile, quietly ruminating as Coursi pushed through the stocks. "Are we lacking anything of need or want?" he asked. "My heart grows eager to dicker. I will flag the next merchant we see to do some trade."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#11

Zuan didn't have to wait long. They were already sitting around their makeshift campfire when bobbing lights in the distance came into view from the north.

Nisher was busy terrorizing the group with his overheard tales and half-reliable descriptions of the feared Moadi-Birds, until even stoic Tagu shifted on his arse uncomfortably and peered around the surrounding darkness nervously. Another few minutes, Iskander thought, and the spellwriter would leap up and start flapping his arms and cawing...

A merchant's caravan came into view. Four horses, two camels, and a drawn cart ladden with gods knew what. Travel lanterns hung from the saddles and covered howdahs, allowing them to travel on in the near-darkness. The caravan moved slowly along the road, and paused expectantly when the companions camp-fire came into view.

A hidden voice from one of the howdahs broke the silence, "Well met by night", it announced and soon the mustached face of an olive-skinned Abodrosi emerged from the make-shift "camel-castle."

Tagu instantly rose, saying nothing, his various muscles twitching in anticipation of possible danger.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#12

Zuan smiled. Praise to the Divine Broker, who grants profit to His lucrative ones! "Well met indeed, sir," he greeted, making a deep bow. "I am Zuan Coursi, and these my companions. What brings you and yours on this road? We were just discussing the topic of the dreaded Moadi-Birds; I pray they have not troubled you."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#13

Iskander watched on with a somewhat bored expression, having previously donned the garb of a common pilgrim.
There were times for ostentatiousness, and times to blend, and this trip definitely seemed the latter.

It was also the time to allow others to talk, and so Iskander kept with Tagu in his silence, though Iskander wearied of hearing more of the damned birds.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#14

"Moadi-birds?" the mustached man involuntarily scowled, "Nay, gods be good, we slew a few red-wolves a few hours back", he gestured north along the road. "their packs grow bolder as the seasons change..." he left this thought unfinished and squirmed out of his howdah far enough out to be seen.

"I am happy to meet a fellow Abodrosi in lands this far north." He continued glancing at the group then Zuan more closely."I am called Tursto Bulvan, returning to Abodroc from Zamorza and Canagadi...and these are my unfriendly body-guard", he smiled and absent-mindedly waved toward the other riders, who remained seated on their mounts and did not speak.

Saano raised an eyebrow. He had heard this name somewhere before, but for the life of him could not recall where or when he came across it.

Iskander recognized one of the body-guards from years ago. The man didn't recognize him in return. Iskander remembered him as an average soldier with below-average loyalties and some questionable vices.

"And what brings you lot to the northern territories?" Bulvan added.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#15

"A mission of mercy, if you will," Zuan said with a small smile. "We follow the spice route to Canagadi to do business with the religious of that fine city. I bear goods from our own city and beyond - brilliant carpets, fine cinnamon and cloves, berbere and grains of paradise..." He slowly arched a curious eyebrow. "Have you any interest in trade, Master Bulvan? Perhaps you have some good we are in need of."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#16

Bulvan grinned widely. "Alas, Master Coursi, I have sacks over-stuffed with cloves in the wagon, berbere as well, and pink pepper", he said pointing to the huge, rickety contraption. "Did you know the Canagadi use them to cure tooth-aches? Cloves I mean" he grinned again.

"But I sell many things, so perhaps I have something that may interest you" he added dramatically, "What kind of carpets do you have? Jelfiri? Rimaram? One can never possess enough finely-woven mats, eh?" now he laughed heartily and climbed down form his camel.

"I was planning on reaching the crossroads before camping, but perhaps a night beneath the stars is fated for Bulvan. May we share your fire? We have meat to roast. And figs. It is only me and the five men you see. They speak little, take up little room, and eat even less" he laughed again.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#17

If Nisher noticed the guarded motions of Tagu at the sight of these traders, he didn't show it. In fact, Nisher seemed as glad as Zuan to see these traders. Sauntering up to stand next to Zuan, the spellwriter spoke in the Trade priests ear. "Zuan Coursi. Your tongue is more silvered than I, and if nothing else I know you to be fair. Would you mind pursuading them to take Jeza and some coin for one of their fitter steeds?" Nish dropped his coveted platinum bezoom into Zuans palm, "I fear Jeza will not be able to keep the pace for many more days. Try and save me some coin if you can; my purse doesn't exactly overflow." The spellwriter gave the Trade Priest a single pat on the shoulder before moving away. it was perhaps the first complimentary thing Nisher had said to Zuan on the four days of travel.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#18

While not showing it outside, Iskander was perhaps even more put out then Tagu.
Damned merchants who let their hubris and love of profit forfeit common sense. He regretted not finding a couple more sell-swords for this journey, since his compatriots appeared short on both street smarts and martial ability.

Now he had to count on a Abodrosi not being a crook, not something Iskander was comfortable with. He'd let the others prattle on about trading and the like. Iskander would do his job and plan who he would strike first should it come to that.

Roast meat was always welcome, however....

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#19

Sometime later...

The companions and Master Bulvan--who indeed confirmed he was a merchant of a sort, though not under the auspices of the Divine Broker--found themselves seated around an expanded stone-ringed fire. Domesticated antelope meat, tender as pork, was rotating on skewers, casting globs of hissing fat into the flames on occasion.

Bulvan's men, his body-guards, as he called them were off to the side speaking amongst themselves, tethering their mounts, and propping lanterns on poles around camp.

Saano was silent. Until he could figure out where he had heard the name 'Bulvan' before, he could not focus on the roasting meat or the conversation. Perhaps she remembers...

Iskander ate, his antelope still a bit bloody on its skewer, and watched everyone without giving himself away. Tagu was lost in thought staring at Bulvan's body-guards. Nisher was somewhere nearby skulking or sulking, who could be sure.

Bulvan's white teeth shone in the fire-light as he looked at Zuan. "So religious matters? Missions of mercy? I find such things unpleasant myself." he chewed on a fig, "I have books beside Canagadi spices, old ones, some from antiquity..." he lowered his voice for effect, "I have masks from Zamorza, a few bejewelled kinjals, spider-silk--very little--, and other things."

Somewhere a smattering of red-wolf howls pierced the night.

"To answer your question, Master Coursi, I always have interest in trade. Yes."

Jeza moaned, suffering from an acute bout of arthritis.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#20

Zuan nodded as Bulvan rattled off his inventory. "A fine selection of trinkets you have," he said agreeably. He pushed to his feet and tugged open one of Maurban's saddle bags, pulling out three rolled carpets. He stood before Bulvan and let one roll out with a flourish, draping it over his shoulder and knee.

"A rug of Dobradi," he intoned with reverence. "Of finer threads than your Rimaram, and better dyes at that. See how the fiber gleam in the light. You will not find that in any ordinary weave, I tell you that."

He handed it carefully off to the other trader before brandishing the next. "This one is Sozuk. See the little flowers? I met the weaver himself, and saw the same garden in which these little gems grew. If you look close, you can see how each petal is individually raised. No, it's not a trick, the technique is quite difficult. Years to master."

Then the third: "Padan. Now I admit, it does not look quite as fine, but never will you find a stronger carpet. You could throw one in the center of a bazaar in the springtime, pick it up at the dawn of winter, and not a thread will be loose. Go on, try to pick it. Your nail will not mar it, to be sure."

Zuan settled onto his cushion next to Bulvan, laying the last carpet out in front of him. "I suppose I am the host here - it is our fire, is it not? So, as guest I will let you open. Surely one of these piques your interest, if only to trade again third-hand. Offer what you will."

He raised a pointed finger. "Oh, and while you do browse, consider also this: Abodroc is not so far off, and I gather your guards are temporary hires. I may be willing to take one of your horses off your hands for a fair price. I could give you one of ours, so you will not be lost for time or treasure." He nodded toward the old nag. "That mare is of good temperament, and quite sturdy. She should hold one of your footmen for long enough of the journey. I'll even give you a rindod for the pleasure."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#21

Saano

I've been wracking my brain, but I just can't seem to catch the memory of where we've heard of this guy before. We didn't meet him personally, we'd remember his face. Maybe he was a customer back home?

I don't think so. If he was a customer, he would've shown up at least once or twice in the shop, and I would have seen him. But I swear, he gives me the creeps. Something about him just seems...off.

I know. I'm getting the same feeling, like he was involved in something nasty that we had to clean up afterwards. With two minds, you'd think we'd be able to remember where we'd heard a name before. This is a bit frustrating. I'll see if I can pick up any clues from what he says and how he acts. Keep trying to remember while I do?

Of course, love. Just keep an eye on those guards. If he's someone we had to clean up after, we might not be getting much sleep tonight.

Cheery thought. But no less valid for being unpleasant. I'll stay on my toes.

Saano looked up from the wheels he had been cleaning on his bow while thinking over their new merchant companion, capping the small jar of grease that kept the compound weapon working smoothly. His gaze tracked past where the caravan guards were gathered chatting, noting their stances and demeanor. Nothing appeared to be out of place. Yet. His eyes continued on to the merchant in question, currently looking through Zuan's offered goods.

"Master Bulvan, have you any quicksilver, or Essence of Innocence? I realize such are rather rare, but one cannot find what one seeks if one never asks."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#22

[ooc: Some rolls courtesy of Muro involved]

Nish had made a seat for himself further back from the fire, complaining absently about feeling too warm to bundle up close to the light and heat. As the conversation took off between traders, the spellwriter faded to the background and was quickly forgotten.
Several minutes into Zuan's tirade about his rug collection (Really, Nish thought, What's so great about rugs!?) Nisher absently played with his Spellwriter Tome beneath his cloak, unclipping the latch on it and leafing through the pages; taking care not to reveal the book.
Without having to peer at his beloved tome, he found the correct page and lovingly placed his palm upon it, opening himself to the magics which lie within.
Stryne inhaled gently, his eyes half-lidded as he felt the mystical writings seep into his very skin and become absorbed to his body. To the others, Nisher Stryne will simply have faded away out of their thoughts, as though he were never there at all. Quietly, Nish stood and calmly walked out of the campsite, patiently making his way around the edges of it, heading towards Bulvan's Caravan.
Nish stopped hurriedly, pausing just in time as one of Bulvan's burly guards stepped out from behind the cart. He was carrying a bottle of what Nish assumed was alcohol which he must have retrieved from the beneath the caravan's canvas, and met up with two of his fellows under one of the lamps they had erected.
The Spellwriter stood still for some time, reconsidering his options; he had expected the guards to be relaxed and distracted within their own little group but no... The three were talking quietly amongst themselves under the lantern light; one was halfway in the dark near the road, peering up and down it casually, and the final one - a mean looking grunt - was by himself, stoicly watching over Bulvan.

Nish came to a decision. The bodyguards were all occupied now; plus he had his magicks hiding him from sight. Nisher Stryne stepped forward and quietly partially unwrapped the rope holding the canvas down in the back.

Nish's eyes widened in surprise. He had genuinely meant to only assess the trader's belongings to make sure he was on the level, but now...
Silvered statuettes of various significance and books of history and lore! Pots of expensive ink and Jewelled bracelets shining! Gloves of silk and leather, and sacks which smelled strongly of clove. Shortswords, daggers and light maces enough to equip three-score mercenaries and much more! Trinkets! Knick-knacks! Odds and ends! Nisher realized he was just short of drooling. With a little smile he peered over to Bulvan; still deep in conversation, and the guards had not moved as yet.
Alright... Nisher considered his options. He -wanted- this stuff. How hard would it be to get? Impossible. That's how hard. But what about just one or two bits and pieces? Well, lets consider. Nisher knew sometimes traders were able to set magical warnings and traps on their goods. However, the merchant had five bodyguards. That's quite a number - and if he was capable of magical feats, he would feel more comfortable with less hired help, so it seemed unlikely there would be anything too dangerous; he would rely on his henchmen to stop intruders -before- they got to this point. But what if one of the guards were handy with magic? They did not appear to be 'the type', as such, and if one was a spellcrafter, he would cost much more to hire. So that also seems unlikely.
Finally, it was dark here, and there was a small scrub of a bush just nearby... Nish had an idea. In one movement the spellwriter gently snatched one, small canvas sack - one which DIDN'T smell of cloves - and bent over, pushing it underneath the scraggly bush next to the trunk. He quietly pulled the canvas of the wagon back down and swiftly walked away into the shadows to circle the campsite and reappear once more. His reasoning was thus:
If the sack was linked to any kind of magical alarm, Nish hoped to be out of the 'scene of the crime' before he was spotted (His own invisibility will hopefully aid in this.) If he had to be searched, the sack is not on, nor nowhere near his person. If Bulvan notices it missing in the morning, he may find it under the bush, after which Nish may politely suggest that his bodyguard that collected the bottle may have accidentally knocked it there. Ideally though, this little transgression will go unnoticed and in the morn, after the merchant has left, Nish may collect the sack at his leisure and then find out what he had managed to 'aquire'. Hopefully gems and gold aplenty! Perhaps Bulvan's dirty laundry.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#23

Iskander's sense of alarm reduced at each passing moment. If this was an ambush, surely it would have been sprung sooner.

No matter, he would quietly watch and wait. The list of items that this Bulvan had available to trade was quite interesting. There were those who would greatly relish such goods, and knowing this one could obtain such might be useful someday.

Iskander also let his eyes alight upon Saano's composite bow wistfully, admiring the quality weapon from afar. Perhaps not completely useless in a fight, he thought.

The even before he showed up outside Abodroc’s Bronze Gate he had taken a few drinks at the Shorn Ram, a place where various 'professionals' mingled. The drums of war were beating up north and threatened to come south. Hopefully they would not meet them on the way up. North seemed to be a popular place these days...

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#24

Bulvan's eyes were fixed on the carpets. It was as if Zuan was the snake-charmer and Bulvan, the cobra.

"Is that---?" Bulvan gaped at the fourth unfurled carpet, "Is that Rashuli thread?" Bulvan was lost in thought as he gazed upon the rug by fire-light. "Ha! You save the best for last. A fine specimen! I will---"

Bulvan stopped when Saano spoke, as if seeing the Midnight Guardsman for the first time really.

"Quicksilver? No." Bulvan took his gaze from the Rashuli carpet engraved with a scene of dozens of men and women coupling. "Essence of Innocence?" Now Bulvan smiled, though his smile held no warmth. "No, Guardsman, i have not" Bulvan smiled again, "but I also am interested in...Essences."

Nisher cursed his luck. It was too good. Too easy. Everything happened so quickly and smoothly. The sack--and it was heavy--was now hidden under a prickly bush, and just like that Nisher was back at the fire, only to catch the merchant's last words..."Essences."

Saano's brain tingled. Another minute, nay, seconds, and he would remember where he heard the name Bulvan. The merchant smiled at him and turned back to Zuan.

"I will buy this." He petted the carpet as one would a cat. "What do you want for it? What would you deem fair value?"

A few dozen feet away, Tagu turned to the vigilant Iskander and spoke....a rarity. "I know that man." he stated plainly, looking at one of Bulvan's men but not pointing, "He was sentenced to hang."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#25

Nish uttered something offhandedly about having to 'bleed the lizard' as he sat back down and dusted his hands absently on his hands; his invisibility long since faded. The spellwriter allowed the conversation to continue, washing over him as the spellwriter peered absently into the fire.
Can it have gone so smoothly? Ah well, we must not question our luck or it will run sour! Nish smiled faintly and glanced over the group. He and Zuan were deep in a bartering conversation. Saano had just finished slathering oil or grease or honey for all Nish knew, over his compound bow's wheel; Nish had no idea about the function of the compound bow.
Over to one side, Tagu shared some rare words with Iskander - which Nish couldn't quite make out - it appeared to be a serious conversation. But then, those two were always serious.
The Spellwriter awaited a natural lull in the trading before speaking; "Say Bulvan," Nish intoned casually as though he had known the man for years, "Did you happen to hear anything about newcomers arriving in Canagadi recently? You said you had recently been through there." Nish ran a hand absently through his greasy hair as he peered at the merchant. He was still off-handedly curious about his Spellwriter fellows.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#26

Zuan smiled. "You've a good eye, my friend. Many would not see the quality of the threading. It is Rashuli indeed, and the Divine Broker smiles upon you here, for I was sure to sell it in Canagadi."

He sat back, eyeing Bulvan's howdah. "Now then, the price. Zamorzan masks, you say? That should be a curiosity. I should like one, and perhaps one of your smaller kinjals. And one of those horses. You said you had other goods as well? I should like to see what stock a merchant of your quality has."

Coursi's black eyes bulged as Stryne interrupted with his question. "My dear Nisher, I am sure Master Bulvan would be glad to answer your inquiries later," he said, mouth smiling but eyes glowering. "Surely, you wouldn't want to disrupt any important trade decisions he ponders now, hm?"

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#27

Under the haggling between the merchants, and Nish's interjection, Iskander spoke quietly to Tagu.

"I suspected, but there's little to do about that at the moment. Let be gracious hosts - they have shared meat after all," he smiled.
As whisper,"and, it is entirely possible Zuan here might succeed in trading them to death."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#28

Nish Stryne simply 'harumphed' at Zuan's word, glowering at the priest. The Spellwriter withdrew and decided to go sit over with Saano. He plopped down next to the tattooed man and poked at the fire absently with a stick he found lying nearby. He was feeling a bit edgy and decided that he didn't like this new trader; although it was most likely due to paranoia about being caught out in his shady actions. Nish nudged Saano with his elbow and spoke softly, "Is it just me, are you sick of this Bulvan and his rug fetish?" Nish's eyes darted to the sky as he listened for imagined Moadi-bird cries... Just what do they sound like, anyway, he wondered.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#29

Saano

"There are much worse things in the world than someone taking over-much enjoyment in woven artistry, Stryne. I am more than willing to ignore such quirks if they keep this camp from devolving into violence, and accept the trade as more than fair." Saanos voice was just as soft as Nishers, but contained a hint of warning. "Can you not see how tense those caravan guards are? Our own companions are likewise on alert. They recognize that something isn't right with this caravan. If we are not careful, we might wake with slit throats. Or worse."

Saano kept his hands busy finishing up the nightly maintenance of his bow. Soon the last of the meat would be cooked, and then they would begin taking watches for the night ahead. That would be when things would go down, if indeed his worries were justified. Assuming, of course, that nothing sparked the kindling before then.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#30

‘Yes, yes, a horse” Bulvan waved the idea off as trivial, “Now the masks, you may have one in exchange but I do not think a jeweled-knife needs be thrown in.” Bulvan the cobra was out of his trance.

Again interrupted, but this time the negotiator had at least added an admonishment to his companion...

“Yes, lots have been through Canagadi recently, before the winter…” he trailed off, studying Nisher briefly but intently. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“My love…he wears a ward. This is why our minds have been clouded. Your’s more so than mine Saano. It is Selpando Bulvan, he-of-a-thousand-meaningless-names, and one true one. It is the Soul-Merchant, do you remember now? We heard of him in Zola-Garsa once, after the last war… it was said the poor of the city had lined up behind his wagon, eager for coin…queues a half-mile long. They lined up for him in Odelot too, until the authorities and a few of your brethren chased him out….. Do you remember, my love? He buys souls, he is not human.”

Now Bulvan gestured to one of his guards, and the man went to the back of the wagon, where moments ago Nisher had pilfered a sack. The man returned moments later with another sack and handed it to Bulvan.

Bulvan looked inside and removed what looked like a rectangular wooden case, in which one might find a musical instrument perhaps, and laid out the mahogany receptacle in front of Zuan, not too close to the fire. After a suitable dramatic pause, he opened the lid, and sat back smiling.

Inside, each placed on its own protruding pedestal, were four silken Masks from Zamorza, the first bone-white, the second the color of jasmine flowers, the third brick-red, and the fourth, jet-black. The history of the Zamorzan masks was known to Zuan in passing. They were rumored to originally belong to Zamorza’s long-extinct assassin’s guild, but over the centuries have come to be owned and used by the celebrated troubadours and actors of Zamorza’s famed theatres. Others rumors claimed, that the masks were manufactured by a mythical tribe of mystics who wore the masks for nefarious purposes known only to them. When donned, Zuan knew, a Zamorzan Mask disappeared into the skin, and allowed its wearer to look exactly the same, yet become completely unrecognizable to those that know the individual. A mother would not recognize her son, though the mask was invisible and did not alter the wearer’s appearance an iota.

Bulvan sat back, stifled a yawn and waited for Zuan to examine the rare treasures. It was almost midnight now, and Bulvan’s men seemed ready to retire for the night. One remained vigilant by the wagons and tethered mounts, while the other four put up tents for them and their master.

“Are they to your liking?” Bulvan inquired, looking at Zuan. “One mask for the Rashuli carpet, a fair exchange, no? There are less than a hundred in existence. And I will give you one of my fine steeds for that nag to seal the transaction.” Bulvan exposed his smallish teeth--a smile.

Somewhere in the wastelands, red-wolves howled once more with delight.

(ooc: Scras, Echo you're almost with us, patience I implore you :))

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#31

Zuan produced a sigh. "Ah, no chance on the daggers, then?" he said with a hurt tone. He hadn't really expected to get away with all he asked - the kinjal would have surely tipped the scales on any trade - but he found it odd that Bulvan so quickly succumbed to an offer. One of his own order would have negotiated for hours. But then, some merchants had less a taste for dickering than he did. Their loss.

"No matter. Your offer is agreeable. Now," he waved a hand over the masks, "what can you tell me of these? I know Zamorza masks, but I am curious of their provenance."

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#32

"I had noticed they were a bit off, yes," the spellwriter agreed, nodding subtlely at Saano, "I'm not sure if you noticed earlier, but Tagu seemed about ready to pounce on one of the guard. I think Iskander and he must know some of them. The whole night smells off to me." Nish snapped back to attention as Bulvan spoke to him and he resumed his mask of simple, un-learned Nisher Stryne. After peering at the trader for some time he answered shortly, "Oh, I wouldn't want to interrupt you any further," A quick glance was directed at Zuan and Nish uttered something beneath his breath about 'stuffy trade-priests', "A bunch of spellwriters owe me money, y'see. i'm trying to hunt the bastards down, and I heard they were making for Canagadi!" The shrewd spellwriter picked his teeth at an imagined piece of antelope and peered at Bulvan inquisitively.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#33

"Ah, no chance on the daggers, then?"

Bulvan's teeth shone once more at the comment. "Greed is good" he mumbled ever-so-queitly to himself.

"Now, trade-priest, you have already beguiled me into a fine carpet, and in return, I offered you an artefact from wicked, mysterious Zamorza!" He let these words linger on the night-air a few seconds, wiping some saliva with from the corner of his lip with a gloved finger, "But for me to add a be-jeweled kinjal that once belonged to an Arcane Shafe-Shifter mystic, ha, that would be foolish of Bulvan!" Bulvan took a breath. "Is it not enough that I trade you a good horse for a bad in good-will?"

another interruption...the rat-faced one again...

"Spellwriters, you say? I have heard of the same group you seek in fact, but only rumors passed on the road. A group of--them--arrived in mass in Canagadi some time back, and searched the country entire, for something or other. Having no doubt failed in their treasure-hunt, they were last heard to--"

"Wait", Bulvan stopped himself, "Surely this information is worth something to you" he said to Stryne and smiled his smile of many, tiny,squarish teeth.

ah yes the trade-priest awaits

"Provenance, mmm. If I remember the expression correctly, it was curiosity that slew some--creature or other. A strange thing to ask for...provenance. But if you must know Zuan Coursi, I purchased these masks from Ar-Galatho Pendaves Alfarafel, the Master himself, Zamorza's finest and most beloved stage-actor." Bulvan paused to see if Zuan knew the name and too see if the trade-priest was suitably impressed. "The masks were part of a larger--transaction--that I sealed with the man."

(ooc: Saano knowledge sent in pm)

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#34

"Worth someth...!?" Nisher spluttered before stopping himself, "Bah, if you do not know anything, trader, just say so! I will not give you coin to concoct a fable about some random direction they went while you scurry off to the winds, never to be seen again!" The spellwriter waved a dismissive hand then crossed his arms sullenly, staring at the fire. Evidently, Nish wasn't too worried about offending the trader, nor ruining any further negotiations Zuan had in mind. Nish did speak again, seemingly to himself, softly, though not so softly that none could hear it. "Taking the word of a stranger in the night? Does he think me mad!?"

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#35

At this Bulvan was slightly taken aback, even two of his men looked in Nisher's direction with unfriendly glares.

"My friend, i did not mean to offend you, but on the road, in the night, as you say, particularly with strangers, everything is for sale. No?"

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#36

The Spellwriter peered at Bulvan searchingly in silence for a second, then let his arms uncross, sighing faintly; his bluff failed. "Then for the information I offer five coin and no more; you cannot expect a high ransom for your word alone." His offer sounds set in stone, Nisher's eyes narrow slightly at the trader, as if daring him to ask for a higher price.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#37

Zuan looked over the masks in the firelight. "You think provenance strange?" he asked with a distracted glance. "It is not unheard of. The princes in the north seem to care only for the legends of their art. They care not what a thing looks like, so long as some long-dead king once pinned it to his wall."

While Bulvan was distracted with the spellwriter, he tried to gage the value of it in his head. He knew the name of Alfarafel, but whether that mattered much to the value of the masks was questionable at best.

(OOC: Appraise check on the so-called Zamorzan masks)

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#38

Inan

Two scaled-birds were tossing the talisman to and fro, playing a game. Barely a dozen feet away, Inan Who-came-from-south-of-Kezan's-White-Tooth, sat motionless, beads of perspiration running down his body and tickling him to the point of agony....almost.

Two other birds were currently pecking at his defenseless face with hellish four-part beaks. One tore an earlobe from his ear and gobbled it down.

Inan smiled inwardly, though he was completely paralyzed and unable to actually stretch his lips to form a physical smile.

Two other birds were chewing flesh from his calf.

The pain was excruciating...almost. Inan had forced himself into the rare meditative state of Acha-Rongg, despite his paralysis, taught him by a master, and the pain was forced from his conscious state. It pleased Inan that the scaled birds were unaware that he felt no pain. That gave him time, since they seemed to relish the fact that his death was going to be a slow and painful one.

He sat in the strange cave and waited to be eaten alive.

His mind was elsewhere.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#39

Anquetiti Sebasti

On the run…again.

Anna gazed once more from behind her hiding place, a mere boulder, on an otherwise shrubby and flat terrain. A hundred feet away was a small cave opening, inside of a massive natural chimney of soft reddish stone.

Somewhere inside that cave was Inan, the last of the dervishes who was still alive. At least for now. And of course that was the only Dervish Anna liked. She had many conversations with the mysterious shafe-shifter and in return for tales of the Nephilim, he had agreed to "initiate" her in the ways of the mystic. Anna liked magic.

Anna had followed a small band of mystics from Canagadi south to the “civilized” cities. They seemed exotic enough a distraction at the time, and she had to leave Zamorza anyway, after the duel for her affections ended badly between the two mercenary captains involved. Worse, she had felt something in the evening breezes of that decadent city of late, something off. She was worried that she might be found…

It was always time to move on.

Traveling with the dervishes proved tedious however. They had little interest in her “talents”, and were likewise hesitant to teach her any of their mystical secrets. The dervishes had no preconceptions or prejudices against her however, though her nature was known to them instinctively. Nor did they lust after her. On the contrary, they mostly ignored her. It mattered little to Anna, she was merely heading toward the next city and her next “adventure”, and this was preferable to traveling alone.

A flock of reptilian birds, barely larger than ravens, but not of this world, had attacked their humble caravan. The dervishes preferred traveling across the wilderness to the established roads between city-states, and they had paid dearly for their nature-loving ways.

The savage creatures literally tore into the mystics, shredding flesh with razor beaks, and freezing minds with some sort of hive hypnosis. No one escaped the Moadi-Birds except her.

Perhaps the hellish avians only liked to feed on and torture humans, she considered. Regardless, she ran and hid when the swarm came, and watched in horror, as the last of the dervishes was ripped to pieces, before one chosen meal, Inan, was instead lead telepathically to the birds lair.

Now she sat here as night descended upon the lands and jackals began howling. A mile or so away in the other direction, Anna spotted some lights now. Flickering but steady. Campfires? Someone else was camping beneath the stars it seemed.

Re: The Road to Canagadi

#40

Saano

The tattooed Guardian very carefully kept his true annoyance from slipping into his features. It wouldn't do to tip the foul creature selling masks that his own had slipped a bit too far and revealed who he actually was.

Zola-Garsa, of course! I can't believe that slaughterhouse didn't immediately come to mind when I heard his name. I don't think I've heard of any more massacres following a Soul-Merchant since then. I guess he's become more cautious after we took an interest in him. That's a pretty good ward, considering we were all specifically told to keep an eye out for him.

I know. The way he spoke of essences is what cracked the spell and let me remember.

A demon beaten by his own words...Now that's something you don't see every day. Unfortunately...

Yes. He almost certain to try buying someone's soul tonight. And if he realizes who you are...

He's likely to still have a grudge. I was only half-worried about waking with a knife at my throat when talking to Nisher. It appears my thoughts were more true than I realized. Well, at least we know. Watch my back?

As much as I can, love.

Saanos complete attention returned to the conversation between Nisher and Bulvan at precisely the moment Bulvans words showed his nature once again. "...as you say, particularly with strangers, everything is for sale. No?" Keeping a straight face and not glaring was perhaps the hardest thing Saano had done that evening. In the interest of keeping his hands busy and hiding his face, he selected a piece of barely-done deer and began partaking thereof.

Go ahead and keep dropping hints, you loathsome parasite. See how long it takes before I put an arrow in your back.