Location: New Vasselheim, Othanzia, Issylra
Date: Grissen, 21 Brussendar 845 PD (calendar of Exandria)
Occasion: Elvendawn/Midsummer Festival
Party Members:
- Bob the Therapist – changeling warlock with a couch for a familiar
- Rinn – half-elf sorcerer/rogue
- Stubby – half-elf artificer
- Tāmarai – gnome bard
- Tunk – bugbear monk
Bob’s dream
He’s in Emror’s tower. Somebody (not Emror, not even another dragonborn) sitting in a chair, just kicking it. Bob walks over to them and taps the shoulder and asked for a glass of water. “I always have a glass of water for my student.” It’s Sark. A glass of perfect, chilled water appears in Bob’s hand. They apologize for “this,” the dream. They look straight at Bob, and Bob sees most of a face: piercing, ruby eyes, sparkling like stars, fascinating. As a child, Bob had a dream about red eyes. Bob wonders if he shouldn’t be a little worried, but he also feels safe. This is his patron, this is Sark.
Bob: What big eyes you have.
Sark: All the better to see you with. [flips hood back – Other than the eyes, Sark looks like a kindly professor. Thin hair on top, big ears, looks like Mika’s Uncle Arthur of blessed memory].
Sark: Sorry, I have no control over the eyes. That’s what happens after thousands of years. I’m sorry to bring you here to a place of not happy memories, but I could not speak to you otherwise. It isn’t safe where you are, Bob. I will not be able to speak to you on Issylra. Whatever that empress has done, has scarred the land, and my powers are waning on the material plane. [seems vexed]
Bob: Yeah, that’s harsh.
Sark: I’m sure you’ve heard the rumor already that [Old] Vasselheim has been destroyed. The magics that brought you to Vasselheim were powerful and dangerous, and there will be effects that you will be feeling for years. I have shielded you and your friends as much as I could, but whatever magics were loosed, they’re keeping me from helping you further. My students, what few I have left, the ones on Issylra, are in hiding.
Bob: What role do I play in this?
Sark: One path is to remain with your friends and hope they will bring you home — where, I promise, you have graduated with your doctorate. I will never fail to fulfill a promise I have made you. But another path… I do not trust the empress, but I understand her goals. She wishes to control all of Issylra. That is a noble goal. But her methods have caused untold destruction on this continent and in others. She chased out my students, those who lived in Vasselheim. They have run to the Godless Land in the south, where even I cannot reach them. If you are the man I believe you are, you can find those men and heal them. Because they sights they saw, the damage done to them, has hurt their souls. And you, who care fo the souls of others and wish to assist them in getting past their pain, are the only person I believe able to bring those wounded people home.
Bob: That’s a lot of pressure.
Sark: Which is why I ask and do not demand.
Bob: So the empress caused your students to flee. It sounds like they’re traumatized. Are you wanting me to just go see them, or bring them back?
Sark: To find them and help them heal.
Bob: Depending on how traumatized they are, this could take a long time.
Sark: I will not ask you to go alone. I have used the extent of my powers to spy on the empress. I believe she will ask your furry friend to travel south. I think the two of you together would keep each other safe, and keep your strange friend sane. And while she calls them the Godless Lands, I believe I have a solution to allow me to speak with you while you are there. This would not be easy, but nothing worth having is easy. It was certainly not easy to learn as much as you have, to understand psyches, and yet you have done those things. And I believe you can discover why they are hurt, and help them.
Bob: So the ultimate outcome is?
Sark: If you were to heal them, help them, I believe I could then, through them and you, end whatever spell is preventing them to speak out and reach us. The empress will tell you that none who have gone to the GL have returned. THis is not true. Many have returned, but not with what she wants. So whoever is there is protected from her, and as a byproduct, they are hidden from the gods themselves. But I think that can be worked around. With you as my arm and my eyes, we could save everyone there. And there are worse fates than the empress in the south, especially the ocean. Don’t go sailing south of Issylra.
Bob: Do you have some names? Know where they are?
Sark: I have both. I would never make you wander in the desert for 40 years. If you will say yes, I will give you their names and I will put into your mind how to find them.
Bob: Does this come with any special perqs?
Sark: [smiles] It does. Is that a yes?
Bob: Oh, shit, I don’t get to know until I say yes? What kind of abilities would I develop if I say yes?
Sark: There are more spells I can teach you. There are abilities I can grant. Through me, you can do wonders.
Bob: I want to learn Hallucinatory Terrain and lead the mental patients through their experiences.
Sark: Eventually. As with all things, it is not instantaneous. You will strengthen the muscles of your mind. But I can teach you more.
Bob: Phantasmal Force?
Sark: If that is your wish, it will be granted. If you would like to think it over and come back later, that is also perfectly fine. Decisions shouldn’t be made in a rush.
Bob: I think I need a little bit of time to think through my options.
Sark: Well, even if you tell me yes, that you will go, but don’t know what you wish to learn yet, the offer is still there.
[DM: There’ll be a special one-off for you and Tunk when you come back, and when that happens, you can learn ANY spell that you have the power to cast. The offer will remain open.]
Bob: I’ll put some thought into what makes the most sense. You have a deal. How will I communicate with you?
Sark: When you wake up, the answer will be in your hand. [extends for handshake]
Bob: [shakes] Okay.
Bob wakes, and his hand is above him as if he’s shaking something. His imp is sleeping on a bed next to Bob’s bed, and they’re in a room they don’t remember being in, but it smells like the house they went into. Embassy. In his hand is a medallion, about the size of a DingDong, with a + sign in the center. It’s sort of a disc. It doesn’t seem to mean anything Bob recognizes, but as his hand touches it, Bob feels that paternal warmth that Sark always gives him, and he hears Sark’s voice, “You see? I’m with you.”
Bob: Can you hear my thoughts, or do I have to talk out loud? How “with” me are you?
Sark: I can hear when you wish me to hear.
Bob: Will you eavesdrop?
Sark: No offense, but you’re a young man. I don’t want to see all of what you think. I will be quiet while you are in NV for both our safety. But while you hold this, the empress cannot hear me and will not know that I am with you.
Rinn’s dream
Rinn’s had a hell of a day. He comes back to the Slayer’s Take headquarters. The bathing room is mostly empty, and there’s food downstairs (not junky fair food). He does the usual evening routine: clean, change to night togs, check that nobody went through his belongings.
Normal dreams ensue, like a shoe that he can’t find, where did he put that pencil, why is that guy just wandering around with a cheese tray. Normal, stupid, dream stuff.. The dream shifts, and Rinn is standing along the river that runs through New Vasselheim, in the Ivy Hall district on a little hill. It feels like a very safe place. He’s heard that if a person were to stand on those hills at sunset on certain days, they would be able to see the lights still glowing from the destruction of Old Vasselheim, and he’s done that before. They’re pretty. In the dream he’s there again. It’s nighttime, and there’s a red plume of smoke rising, as it has since that day. Rinn is aware that some people have gone there for various reasons (to loot), and wonders semi-aloud, “Why would anyone want to go there?”
Northward, the sky darkens, the clouds go black, and the tickle of incoming storm and lightning stirs the hairs on Rinn’s arm. Everyone goes inside except Rinn, who’s like “Eh, it’s just rain.” Until lightning strikes the mountains of Old V, near where the red plume is coming from. Blinding. It shakes the ground.
A voice: Come. [more lightning] Come to my forge.
Rinn: [WIS check: 7. This voice isn’t one Rinn has heard before, and he’s never heard of lightning striking Old V like this. It’s strange, but deep inside, Rinn feels like he’s being challenged.] Fine. Maybe I will.
Voice: Good. [doesn’t sound scary, that was just the answer they were looking for and they’re pleased.]
Rinn wakes. It’s not raining. It’s a nice, clear night — still night, but it’s been a few hours — but the windowsill is wet, as if it had been raining, and there are little spatters of water just inside the window on the rug, and Rinn still has that slight feeling of electricity in the air for a moment after waking. Was that actually a dream?
Tunk
Sleeps the sleep of the just, feels good when he wakes. Comfortable. It’s a good day!
Stubby & Tāmarai
Slept, and everything feels fine again. (Stubby’s nightmares were fluttered away by black wings.)
The Day
The ersatz party wake and wander into the main room of the embassy. Rinn’s already there, and instantly becomes the hero of the day because he’s brought breakfast food with him. (Tāmarai takes an extra hour and a half to get herself “presentable.”) There’s a wooden wind chime tinkle at the door. It’s a young individual, indeterminate gender and of suspect cleanliness.
Person: [squeaky voice] Excuse me? I’m supposed to deliver this? It’s a letter. Stubby: [squeaky voice] Thank you!
Person: [looks crestfallen]
Stubby: [apologizes]
The letter says Tunk on the front. Person scatters off in all six directions without even waiting for a tip. Stubby brings letter to Tunk, who has bedhead, but all over. It says:
“To Master Tunk of the Cobalt Soul: If you are available shortly before the lunch hour to meet with the empress on a matter of great importance to the entire continent, and bring a chosen companion, your presence would be much appreciated.”
Tunk asks if anyone wants to go.
Bob: [not paying attention] Huh?
Tunk: Wanna go see the empress?
Bob: I’m not sure she’s a good person.
Tunk: …Okay.
Nobody else speaks up. Bob finally sighs, “Fine.”
At this point Tāmarai makes her entrance, perfectly pressed and with a hairstyle that is a monument to the art of hairstyling. There’s a moment of silence as each of the others contemplates what sort of person feels that need, but nobody says anything directly, and Tāmarai appears not to notice.
Rinn mentions that he has money for them to buy necessities, and they all make lists of errands they need to run. Bob wants some special mushrooms. Rinn knows of a place near the Rat Docks that sells magical supplies that are questionable in efficacy, provenance, and legality (there’s even some suude). Stubby really is antsy to go with him, so that means Tāmarai goes, and eventually that means everyone.
Tāmarai feels her appearance is a bit of a liability at the Rat Docks, but they’re already there, so it’s too late now. Festival’s still in full swing; that one gnome is still bragging that nobody can catch Lightning Tetsuo — still greasy and still ripped. Bob tries to send his couch over, but somebody official-looking (Tetuo’s manager, who is from Brooklyn apparently) says “No unauthorized entries! It’s ten silver, who owns this couch?” Bob dismisses the imp.
Past Lightning Tetsuo, it starts getting even seedier.
On the way to the Rat Docks, we get closer to the city wall. As Rinn’s about to turn down an alley, there’s a faint sound, and a faint smell that reminds Stubby or her dad’s lab. The smell goes away as they turn into the alley.
Rinn takes us through an alley that gets sleazier the longer we walk down it. (Is that guy sleeping or dead? Let’s not find out.) This is a small part of town, but this is the absolute end for those who can’t or won’t do anything else. People avoiding their pain through magical or chemical means. No one’s begging, but everyone is noticeably low on their luck. We wonder if Rinn’s going to kill us all. But Rinn opens a door to a dark, dingy, smelly store.
The Drugstore
Bob recognizes the smell of the shop from his college days. This is exactly what he’s looking for.
The door has an off-key tinkle, and a wizened person of uncertain gender sitting behind a counter. “Oh. What do you want?” Bob explains that he needs about a dozen doses of dried psilocybin-rich mushrooms. The owner hops off their stool, toddles over to the door (shooting Rinn a nasty look on the way), closes the door, and flips the Shop Open sign to Shop Closed. “All right. I know who you work for, young man,” he says to Rinn, then turns his attention back to Bob. “You’re lucky. Lately all the call has been for suude. The mushrooms are… questionably legal. You can have it, even in that amount, but there might be some questions. Can you keep it safe and hidden?”
Bob replies in the affirmative, and the owner goes behind the counter, opening a trap door under where their stool stood. During his absence, everyone takes a quick look around, noting that there is some weird shit in there. Jars of scales, head in a jar, gods know what-all, all manner of odds and sods.
The owner re-emerges. “I only have ten doses. But there’s this miracle cactus juice that I picked up before Vasselheim fell. It’s from Tal’Dorei. You look like the sort who could probably make this work. Tell you what. This is ten doses of your mushrooms. This goes for ₲100 for all of this. Suude costs about ₲80 per dose. Expensive and a little unpredictable, but it works. What are you trying to accomplish? I might have something that’s not so pricey.”
Bob replies, “I’m not looking for anything recreational. The goal isn’t to get fucked up. It’s to facilitate a catharsis, maybe a bit of a trauma healing effect. Not like an ego-death, just relaxation and openness in order to assist some colleagues that are a bit emotionally stunted right now.”
“Sonny,” the owner responds, “you just described half the survivors of Vasselheim. For that, you don’t want suude and you don’t want the cactus juice. That’s a rough trip. You’re looking to help people?”
“Hopefully some long-lasting healing of a few individuals.” As Bob’s talking, his medallion from Sark gets a bit warmer. Reminiscent of a side-arm hug. The store-owner’s eyes flash white, quickly enough that no one’s sure they actually saw it. “I know exactly what you need.”
Owner takes a jar and puts it down. “I lost my boy when the city fell. Oh, he’s alive, but he’s not there anymore. You know what I mean. If you’re gonna help people like my boy, I’ll give you this. This is 20 doses. Not magic. These are native, from Pyrah. They know their shit. I’ll give you this for half price. 25gp for the lot.”
Bob takes the deal and is given a simple brown package, tied with twine in exchange for his money. “Do good, whatever your name is. Don’t tell me what it is, we don’t use names here. If you come back, same deal.”
(Rinn’s been here once before, and the owner was never this nice before. This is new.)
Stubby brings out her bag to try selling items, such as her white dragon wyrmling gizzard, but the owner doesn’t trade in those items. They do buy the day’s entire supply of poison and acid from her Alchemy Jug, however, then direct her to Ivan, owner of a shop called Clocks & Cogs, who will probably also be interested in the acid.
“And you want to meet Ivan! You’d like Ivan. He’s insane. It’s amazing the law hasn’t come down on him, all those strange explosions and weird sounds coming from there all the time.” Immediately Stubby agrees that she very much wants to meet Ivan.
[Various insight checks: When talking to Bob, he was 100% sincere; he’s been hurt by the Old V stuff and is glad someone cares about the hurt people. He’s low-balling Stubby and would’ve given her more for each of those things. He’s not going to turn in Stubby or Bob for asking for drugs, and he’s no danger to Rinn either.]
Tāmarai notices a couple of things suitable as kanzashi, ₲5 for the pair, though the lighting is dim enough that even with her darkvision she can’t quite make out what the engraved design is. She persuades the owner to give it to them for ₲1 in light of the fact that he severely underpaid Stubby for her acid and poison.
Stubby offers to trade her alchemy jug in exchange for gemstones. The owner doesn’t have gems, but sends her to the Night’s Trinkets. The group take their leave.
Tāmarai mutters under her breath as they go through town, making up rhyming mnemonic devices so she can find her way back later if the need arises.
John’s Marketplace
Next stop: John’s Marketplace, another recommendation by Rinn. John’s sells all manner of adventuring gear and sometimes healing potions. It’s near the Slayer’s Take, and sports timber and brick construction, a grey tiled roof, wooden shutters, and a deck with rocking chairs complete with old men jawing. One of them sees the group approach and calls out for John.
John is a red-purple tiefling in a very tight one-piece outfit that sets off his skin perfectly. Small, bristly mustache, little chest hairs peeking out. Looks like a purple pimp. Wearing an apron. He smiles. “Well well well, what can I help you with today? Looking for things for your boss there, Rinn?”
“Just escorting these folks around town.”
Tunk acquires some conditioning oil for his quarterstaff. Stubby acquires directions to a place that will sell her supplies for making healing potions. At some point, there’s a distant ba-boom from outside. Everyone who’s actually from Vasselheim glances up, says “Oy,” and goes back to whatever they were doing. Eventually, the group make their way to the palace to meet with the empress. Stubby, Tāmarai, and Rinn wait outside.
Bob & Tunk
Guards bring Tunk and Bob into the empress’s private office. She enters after a few minutes, removes her crown, sits with a long sigh, and dismisses the guards. “Thank you, both of you, for coming. I take it you have received my letter and are amenable to my request?” They are, though Tunk is really just along for the ride. The empress says, “You seem a capable bunch. You two especially. Your friends are clever, but rather young. It’s good that it’s just you who responded.
“I like to meet everyone who arrives here through unexpected means, but you four have been imbued with a magic I rarely see here. It is found only in the lands to the south of here, and those who have gone have not returned. My court and I have spent the last few years trying to understand what happened, why Vasselheim fell. Why did the magic cause this damage? How can we prevent it from happening again? A relic, I believe, is poisoning the land. Some we have recovered, not all; and we’re not sure which relic is causing the issue. I feel it is either the Horn of Orcus, or it is Arkhan the Cruel using the Hand of Vecna. Neither of these are appealing to me. I need someone to go find out what it is. Not to fight them or destroy them, just find out what it is and return. This would be a risky endeavor, but it would come with rewards. For instance, we are looking for tenured professors at Ivy Hall.”
“I feel a little manipulated right now.” Bob fingers the medallion through his shirt. Sark speaks into his mind: This time she is not lying to you. They are short on professors. “Where is this school?”
[more convo]
Empress Briarwood explains, “We cannot teleport you there. Have you heard of ‘splinching’? I’m sure the Cobalt Soul has done some research into it. Every time anyone tries to teleport to or from Issylra, they are splinched. If they’re lucky. If they’re not… we have a growing memorial. There is no easy way home for you, I’m afraid. Getting any ship here has been a monumental task. If we can cleanse the lands to the south, find out what is poisoning them, we might be able to resume. I’m not asking you to fight whatever is there, I’m only asking you to look. The magic that brought you here is protecting you, and you would be uniquely able to cast the higher spells that the rest of us cannot, once you become powerful enough. This is Dunamantic magic. It is a gift, unheard of outside Rosohna. I will give you whatever is in my power to give you, in return for this favor. Help us save the Southlands. I would pay for a ship myself!”
Bob replies, “I just need money and to be left alone to do my work.”
Tunk counter-offers, “Here’s my price. I want your best Underdark guide to show me where all the best mushrooms are.” At the empress’s query he replies, “Edible, recreational, whatever. All mushrooms.”
The empress seems amused. She opens a drawer in her writing desk and brings out 2 coins reeking of magic. She puts one down and closes her eyes. The coin flashes and she slides it over to Tunk. Then she does the same for Bob. “You now have carte blanche for all the lands I rule. Things will still cost you money, but you’ll get good deals, and if you’re ever questioned about why you’re in any place, show them this. They will let you go. You will never go to jail. These cannot be stolen from you, they are bound to you.” She brings a chest out from the desk, and a sack that looks heavy and jingles. “And 500 in gold. And you will be left alone.”
Bob replies, “I’m good.”
To Bob, the empress promises, “Your myconids will be available upon your return. Do you need supplies? Healing potions, food, cart and horses? I will arrange for them all, and you may leave at your leisure.”
As their carts, horses, and other supplies are fetched, Tunk and Bob leave the palace and rendezvous with the rest of their group outside. They explain what has transpired and that they’ll be leaving right away. The others are a little sobered and sad to see them go. Tāmarai plays a goodbye song for them, and she, Stubby, and Rinn watch and wave until Tunk and Bob are out of sight.
There’s little time to miss them at the moment, however. Tāmarai needs to go to her embassy. Stubby and Rinn walk her there. Tāmarai offers a brief introduction at the door in Undercommon. “I am from Xhorhas and have been lost for five years. I would like to report that I am alive.” The guard asks Rinn and Stubby to wait outside, but brings Tāmarai into a waiting room
Xhorhasian Embassy – Tāmarai
Two individuals soon approach. They are wearing their regalia, a man from Den Tasithar and a woman from Den Krynn (that’s right, royalty-adjacent up in this bitch); and also, substantial sun-shading headwear, body-covering clothing, and gloves. Tāmarai gives her much more formal introduction. “Good afternoon. Light be upon you and upon your Dens. It is an honor to be in your presence. My name is Hanafusa no Tāmarai shikomi.”
The woman from Den Krynn passes ten gold to the man from Den Tasithar, remarking to Tāmarai, “We thought he was drunk.” She brings Tāmarai into the inner garden of the embassy, sitting on a bench beneath a tree and gesturing to Tāmarai to be seated as well. Tāmarai sits in seiza, slightly offset from the ambassador, who introduces herself as Lanna Krynn. She casts a spell to know what magics are clinging to Tāmarai and presumably the others, and it also has the effect of showing the events of both plane/time/place shifts to Tāmarai again, not like living through them, but like watching them from afar.
Ambassador Krynn gives helpful advice about discretion. She knows who and what Tāmarai is, and cautions her not to practice her trade without licensing. Tāmarai agrees, but points out that she must begin preparing to eventually work, so she would value being directed to a tailor, jeweler, and other such professionals who would be able to begin crafting her “work clothes.” Even so, Ambassador Krynn informs her that even if licensed, she should not try to work on Issylra because they would simply take her for a prostitute. “They do not understand what you do. It would be unsafe, especially for one so young.”
Lanna Krynn also demonstrates a care beyond what is strictly required of an ambassador, offering to help Tāmarai find suitable skin and hair care products. She also beckons to the guard waiting inside, visible but not audible, and has him fetch an actual basket full of such products; and also some Xhorhasian snacks and a bottle of Sweet Gemberry drink, bright blue with orange fizzy bubbles that give a tangier burst of flavor when popped or dissolved, which Tāmarai accepts with glowing gratitude, but saves for later.
Before leaving, Tāmarai shows Ambassador Krynn the hairstick and decorative comb she found at the drugstore. In the light, the design is easier to see: not random swirls, but a long, ropey tentacle or snake-like body, and one large eye at the center. It reminds her of tales of a creature that may be responsible for keeping southern Issylra unsafe. She posits that it could be dangerous to carry them, though they are not magical. “Then again, perhaps it could keep you safe, if shown to people who give fealty to the creature.” Tāmarai gives her the hair comb to study and ask about, and keeps the stick for herself. Just in case.
Ambassador Krynn also asks if Tāmarai is aware of what the name Briarwood signifies. Tāmarai admits that she does, and says that Stubby is also very aware of who they are. Tāmarai heard the basics of what happened when she was at dinner on her second night at Whitestone. “Stubby is… the daughter of one of the survivors.” The ambassador knows exactly who she is, and even says her full name out loud. At Tāmarai’s startlement, she reassures Tam that they cannot be scried upon at the embassy. The magical shield that keeps sunshine off their inner garden also protects from nosy observers. “But the Briarwoods are more evil than you know. In addition to what they did to Lady Victoria’s family, they are responsible for bringing Vecna back to power in Exandria. And this is the name this empress chose for herself, the name she chooses to bear in the very place where Vecna staged what would have been his triumphant takeover of this planet, this plane of existence. She cannot be trusted. She has watchers everywhere. Do not use… Stubby’s name, outside these walls.”
Rinn is also known to the ambassador, who doesn’t trust him, but does trust Tāmarai’s trained observations. Tāmarai is more than welcome to stay at the Xhorhasian Embassy with her, and Stubby under Tāmarai’s vouching, but not Rinn. Not yet, anyway, not until they both know that he is trustworthy. “He is not from Issylra.” Tam knows this already, and tells Lanna where in the Dwendalian Empire she thinks he is from.
As the conversation continues, Ambassador Krynn tells Tāmarai that she, and very probably her friends, are covered in Dunamantic magic. “Have you learned any of our magics?” Tāmarai has not. “Good. If asked, just tell them that that’s not what you’ve studied. They do not know what it truly is here, but they can sense it, and they want it very much. It is also the magic that suffuses the majority of Issylra right now. You and they may be the only ones who would be relatively safe in the Southlands, or in the city of Old Vasselheim. There is… No, I cannot ask it of you. I cannot command it.”
“But hypothetically, what would you ask, if you could?”
The Ambassador appreciates the workaround, and after a brief smile at that, becomes serious again. “There is a relic that helps our people to… propagate. You understand me?” Tāmarai does. “We have one at the Embassy. You know what I mean by that. We believe there are two more on this continent, and we believe that at least one of those was housed at the Platinum Sanctuary with many other relics. If it survived the explosion, it would be invaluable to us. My wife was there at the Sanctuary during the explosion.” This is spoken with a blandness to mask the deep pain, which nonetheless remains obvious. “She was a Consecuted, and near the Beacon. I will see her again. But I would like to give that opportunity again to many of our people who are not near enough to a Beacon to be returned after their death. If I felt that it was right to ask, I would ask you if you would be willing to go and try to find and retrieve it. But I cannot ask that much bravery from you.”
Tāmarai considers for a long moment, then replies, “I am afraid that at this time I do not have the strength or the skill to complete that task, not alone. My friends… Perhaps. We have only just met, days ago, and I do not know that they would do this for me. Risk their lives for something that will not directly benefit them. But Mistress, I must tell you. I currently lack the skill, but not the heart. I would not go there for myself, nor for power, glory, or money. But for my people, for Xhorhas, I would. Without question.” The ambassador is impressed that Tāmarai would go, giving the only life that she has, and says that Tāmarai is a credit to her House.
She also composes a series of Sending messages for Hanafusa, with additions from Tāmarai at the end. [OOC: This is not all of the messages, but it’s all the typist can remember talking about.]
Your lost one has been found. She is in New Vasselheim, staying at the Tal’Dorei Embassy for the moment. She is safe.
We will do all we can to protect her and eventually find a way to return her to her home, or to her secondment in Tal’Dorei, as you prefer.
She wishes you to know that she will do her best to prepare herself for becoming a maisha. She will not engage in her trade without authorization.
She also wishes Bez Kalaimani to know that she will consider herself beholden to Bez as younger sister until or unless Bez wishes to sever their bond.
Ambassador Krynn also mentions that in the Tal’Dorei Embassy, in the bedroom next to the bathing chamber, the central half-tatami can be lifted up and notes placed beneath. If she needs to get them a message, or if they need to get one to her, that’s where they’ll be left.
Stubby & Rinn
While Tāmarai is at the Xhorhasian Embassy, Rinn accompanies Stubby to sell her wyrmling heart, vials of wyrmling blood, and so on. After some good haggling, she scores an excellent price, and gets a little blue gem to put into the clockwork buddy she’s making. They walk down by the river for a bit so that Stubby can start fiddling with her little collection of scrap metal to make herself a “familiar.” Rinn watches, and eventually makes a mild joke about building a bomb. Stubby deadpans, “Yes, I want to blow up the entire city that I’m currently in,” and mimes throwing a bomb into the river. It’s a rock, not a bomb, but Rinn has a flash of panic, followed by lower but insistent internal discomfort. One of his fingers starts tapping rapidly, burning off nervous energy. Stubby laughs.
Then she flat-out asks Rinn if he’s spying on them for the empress. Rinn, taken aback, actually answers. He’s not. He was asked to spy as he accompanied them, but he didn’t sign that part of his contract. He didn’t think it was fair. Of course, if they’re plotting against the city, he will absolutely tell it. He likes New Vasselheim. It’s been good to him.
Stubby then asks Rinn if he trusts her, or them. He doesn’t, and says so; oddly, that reassures her somewhat. Professions of trust would have sounded like lies, but admitting to not trusting ironically makes him more trustworthy. “Can I trust you?” she asks him. “How much can I trust you, Rinn?”
His hand stops tapping, and Rinn looks puzzled. It takes him a while to answer. “I do not think anyone has ever asked me that before.”
“So?” Stubby prods.
“How much can I trust you and Tamari?” Rinn mispronounces the name, but it’s still understandable.
“If you’re not going to hurt me or my friends,” she decides, “then you’re a good enough person. I help good people, so you can probably trust me. That includes Tāmarai, by the way. You don’t hurt Tāmarai. Do you understand? You don’t hurt Tāmarai.” Abruptly she alters course. “I have a good way to test your trustworthiness, I think. I like experiments. This will either be stupid, or it’ll work out well.” She steps in closer.
Rinn takes a half-step away.
Stubby lowers her head a little so that her mouth isn’t really visible, especially from the left where her hair is long, then covers her mouth further by shading it with her hand as she speaks. “My real name is Lady Victoria Viqul Elaina Vessar deRolo.” He takes it in stride, knowing nothing of the name other than the fact that it starts with Lady. “Don’t tell that to anybody.” Rinn recognizes the deRolo name faintly, and that they’re bigwigs from Tal’Dorei, but that’s about it. Stubby goes on. “And now you know that. If the empress sends people to kill me tonight or tomorrow, then you weren’t trustworthy. Experiment! I think it’s a good one, right?”
Rinn is puzzled. “Telling me that, doesn’t that make it a bad test? I don’t know why I would say anything about it, and I won’t. But really, you should be a lot more subtle. Everyone knows you are here! You draw attention! Both of you need to learn discretion. Look at you, talking out here in broad daylight, in the open, about matters you wish to keep secret.”
Stubby chuckles, then says with faux lightness, “Yeah, definitely. But if we’re talking about subtlety, you should try it sometime too. Cover your mouth if you need to say something. People read lips, you know. My mom’s really good at it. And we’re out in the open, but there’s a river right here. The rushing sound will cover up our conversation. That hasn’t been true for any location we’ve seen yet, but here? Here, we’re as safe as we can get.”
Rinn can’t think of a response.
Stubby goes on, “See, I know nobody takes me seriously. I’m just a ridiculous kid, right? Laughable. Airheaded. That’s what keeps me safe. Who in their right mind would ever think there’s anything about me that they’d want to know, or anything that I have that they’d want to take? Nobody! Meanwhile, you walk around practically shouting DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’M NOBODY, I’M MYSTERIOUS AND BROODY, DON’T LOOK! Seriously, you’re as broody as a hen. Just think about it. If we’re being watched, you’re probably being watched too.”
Then she quiets slightly and says, “I hope I can trust you. You can be nice when you’re not all broody.”
Rinn side-eyes Stubby. “I do not brood.”
Stubby laughs as she gathers up her little tinkering bits and bobs. “Right. You don’t brood. Well, don’t kill me in the middle of the night. Let’s go!”
As they head back to the embassy, they spot Tāmarai walking towards them with a gift basket. They discuss, and decide it’s time to go pick up some sundries.
Take your meds.
Hydrate.
Don’t forget to love each other.
Is it Game Day yet?
Loot:
Bob
Jar of magic psychedelic foo
Stubby
50gp (selling acid and poison)
Tāmarai
kanzashi completely unlike anything I’ve ever seen (bought for 1gp), it’s definitely proper kanzashi but the decorative pattern on it is unknown to me; Xhorhasian gift basket with grooming supplies and Xhorhasian snacks (IDK, KitKats and laddoos and an Orangina.)