Chapter Six

Oridi rested against the wood of the high back chair and listened contently to story of the wanderer taking refuge beside the central hearth. The fire crackled beside the man, his salt beard and sunken cheeks gave hints at age, but his eyes bore the gleam of adventurous youth. His clothes were tattered but well kept for a man of the road. He likely didn’t live on much, wandering storytellers rarely made anything. 

The men had left some time back, abandoning their rough tones and angry jabs for a change of location. Their purses were lighter for the experience, but each man seemed content as they departed. None were drunk, most looked sober as a priest. That didn’t surprise Oridi though, this place didn’t seem to be one of high renown, It was in Old town for goddesses sake, but patronage was patronage and some groups kept fronts. Whether this place was owned by their boss or they just liked the atmosphere Oridi couldn’t tell, neither did she care. 

With the room emptied of angry, loud, mountaineers and a story well underway the air began to feel still. Calm. Content peace, no fight. Strange, why was she noticing this? And why now? The flickering candle beside her drew her attention upwards and she saw the people around. The locals that called this place home. The sorry dregs with nowhere else to go, or that loved it too much to leave. This was their life. Peaceful. 

She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t belong here. This world was too calm, too slow, nothing like the one she belonged to. Today alone she’d nearly been caught twice, killed a man, had been caught, and had robbed from the dead. That was just today! 

“Goddess of Life…” Oridi whispered “Bless my path, for your men have damned it.”

Perhaps that had been too harsh. There wasn’t any guarantee that Count Philistine followed the singular sect of hers. He was Nobility, a friend of the King of a Thousand Kingdoms, he’d be of the Trinity. A perversion of the truth that ignored reality in exchange for a falsehood that bathed one in holy justice and the other in unholy wickedness. 

“So then what!” an older man called. The storyteller was nearing the end of his tale it seemed. Apparently it had been quite good, because most of the tavern sat patiently for his next words. 

“Easy my friends.” extended and sweeping, quieting the crowd. His voice was pleasant to the ears, she could see why he’d chosen the line of work. “Where was I? Ah yes, the fall of Elysan!”

With a wide motion he extended his arms and spoke “For King Elysan was Father of Light! He was the Uniter of all men! He could stay his hand no longer, at the wicked behest of those wishing the good King dead, Elysan declared a second Crusade against the Desert Tribes. They had refused and rebuffed him before, but Elysans council warned that if he couldn’t control simple desert dwellers, then how could he hold a kingdom? For if the tribesman were savages, then what was Elysan?”

“Viltran, Elysans lead General, a man of high praise but who had often spoken of seeing the Goddesses for what they really were, rode alongside the King to battle that day. Viltran had been appointed by the King himself during the settling after the First Crusade. He was a friend, and trusted aid to the King. He warned Elysan; My King, should you ride this day then you shall fall. The number is too many, and those around you conspire to take your head. Wage this war and we may all join you whatever awaits. But alas Elysan proceeded and began what would become an incredibly bloody battle.”

The story was old, nearly century had passed since the King of Lights, Uniter of Men, Mortal God would fall at the hands of his own friend. Viltran would betray him in the end and take the crown for himself. The Elder council would have prevented it but…

“On their return, Viltran came to the Council of Elders, Leaders of all Tsenia and begged them answer; Why? Why would you do this thing? Why our King of all under the Goddesses Light and Grace? They shouted in response: Because he was a fool of a man and a terrible king! Let him rot with his failures, as you will.”

“The Council withdrew blade, dagger, polearm, and arcane to kill Viltran then. Instead Viltran survived and slew the wicked and possessed Elder Council and reclaimed Tsenia for the Honest and Just. Ashamed at the loss of both Council and King, Viltran demanded we rise to the occasion and survive! In Elysans Glorious Name! We took the war to them! We still do! For our Honor and that of our fallen King, and that of our Glorious King who rules us now!”

The crowd around cheered at the conclusion to the mans tale. Some tossed the man a few golden sen pieces, others offered mugs for toasts. 

It hadn’t been the truth. Oridi felt a shiver of disgust and shook to remove it. It didn’t matter, no one would believe her anyway. What proof did she have? Some story from a nobody in the woods? No, there would be no way and no reason to tread upon that ground. The story had been good, it had been a lie that loyal cronies had likely spilt during idle chatter, but the man told the story well. For that, and only that, Oridi tossed the man a single silver sen fished out from the dead mans purse. 

“Don’t see folks like you often.” A tall man said, walking up to Oridis table. He was big and bulky, wore the clothes of two men sew together and nearly looked the part too. From skin and accent he was likely a valleymen from around the Middle mountains. 

“Nor you.” Oridi said. Her voice steady, but curious. “Your not from the mountains… but from around them.”

The man nodded and sat across from her. Oridi frowned.

“I didn’t really want any visitors.”

“You too. For around the peaks. You have that look about you.” 

Oridis frown deepened, how could he tell? She didn’t tell anyone and the changing of her form should have hidden it. She was a Tsenian currently. A noble race, they avoided all but the Peak Capital if they could. 

“No I…” Was she going to lie to a stranger over something so pointless? To maintain a cover that hadn’t even been made? “I spent some time around them. Because of the war.” 

She added the last bit quickly. 

“So you can fight?”

Where was this going? Looking around Oridi scanned for any hints of danger besides the brute before her. No one blocked the door, the square windows remained open, the back door remained closed and unblocked. That wasn’t it. She checked again, no one outside the windows and no disturbances along the footboards of the back door. The only bit of note was a small few drops of crimson blood from a wound that had dripped. It was fresh but that wasn’t…

Oridi froze and slowly glanced to her fist as subtly as she could. Had she dropped blood from her hand after the attack? Had it led someone to the body just a few alleys over? But no, her fist was clean, both fists. She’d not stayed long enough for the blood to really pool, if anything it should only have gotten… onto his… The coin purse was stained in crimson near its base. Indications of drips spanned the sides as if brush strokes. 

“What do you want?” Oridi asked. Her blood was cold, her mind raced, was she to fight her way out of her? Was the man alone? Did he know? Was it just for the money? Maybe I could-

“Easy. I only want to talk, but I can guess you know why.” The man looked around. “You killed that guardsman, didn’t you?”

“And? If I did?” Oridi narrowed her eyes. 

“I need to know. That wound, that wasnt natural. Some said they saw him kill himself. The man created another of himself, who killed him and walked away. Was that you?”

“Damn the Betrayer Below,” Oridi thought “I wonder how much he really knows of me.” She wasnt sure how much She actually knew of herself. But if someone found out she was a shifter, she likely never be free again. Philistine seemed a more capable prison warden than all the imbeciles along the front.

“You’re an Arcanist, aren’t you? Illusion or something right?”

Oridi Blinked. Arcanist? One of those showy scholars who paid for a title and to learn a few flashy tricks? Hardly. What Oridi did was real, it had purpose and utility. It wasn’t a party trick for nobles and wealthy. 

The mans eyes seemed so hopeful in their quiet determination. He said nothing and made no ruther request of Oridi, waiting patiently with hope beaming like sun onto Oridi. It was a perfect cover, all she had to do was give up her pride and pretend everything she did was a lie. 

“I’m a changeling” Oridi thought pointedly “All I do is a lie already. No home, no name, no gender, no life. Ever a lier in disguise.”

“Yes.” Oridi said. Finally breaking the tense silence. “I’m an Arcanist from one of the lower cities near the peaks.”

“Of the Jeweled Roads then?”

“No, sadly my study was far removed from such grandeur.” She hated to try so hard, but commit to the part or leave the play, her acting mentor in her youth had drilled it into her for months. He loved her with care and gentleness. Never abused, never made advances, He claimed he simply wished to train a thespian who could play any role, and as a changeling Oridi was a perfect fit. 

“Ah. Sorry, I hope that wasn’t rude.” The mad relaxed, having grown visibly tense from the question. 

“He’s scared! He thinks i’m something dangerous” Oridi thought “But why approach?”

“Did you need something friend?” Oridi asked in her best sophisticated voice. Stuffy and pompous more like

“Y-yes. Are you looking for work?”

“I’m not a whore.” Oridi was shocked and appalled at the man. 

“What? No No,” The man waved his hands frantically “I need scholars. Arcanists. I’ve got something planned, but I need to know if you’re in.”

“In?” Oridi mulled the word over momentarily. Such a funny word. With it she’d committed to so many things before. They’d usually failed. “No questions and no information, and i’m to answer whether or not i’m in? Simply because I may be looking for work?”

The man, nervous but unflappable up to that point frowned, perhaps he hadn’t expected Oridi to push back without fully declining. 

“Sorry, but I’ve a job. Hire Scholars and Arcanists, have them join the crew, then fill them in on the details.” He paused before adding “You’re the last one I need. It’s hard to find Scholars and Arcanists, let alone ones that look like they can fight.”

“And what do you need…. Right, can’t answer.” Oridi glanced down at the Hagges pouch. It hadn’t been anything remotely related to full before, but narry a sound escaped the sack at Oridis prodding. She was out of money. Again. She’d paid her tab, food after hunger had finally caught up, and had given her last sen to the Teller. 

“I can offer an upfront payment.” The man said, noticing the look of annoyance she bore towards her purse. “4 Golden Sen.”

Golden Sen? Golden Sen could buy houses in some smaller provinces. She could eat for months on that. This was an upfront offer? At no information and no answers? How dangerous was this job? The questions began to gnaw at her mind, but the idea of so much money so quickly was so alluring. 

“Fine. I’ll take the sen, now if you please.” Oridi said. “Then you can take me to where ever it is i need to go to meet your group or leader or what have you.”

The man fished out a small, ornately detail pouch clincking with the familiar sounds of only a few coins. It was a sound she was painfully familiar with, but looking inside her heart felt a sigh of relief. There, in the amber bag embroidered with gold and silver threads, were four newly minted Golden Sen. Each coin was as long and wide as two mens fingers and nearly as thick depending on the denomination. The Four Golden Sen seemed to be of the higher weight, a single Sen at its thinnest weight could buy a small house in almost any province. One this thick could do that several times over. 

“And now I have four. But why?” Oridi couldn’t place it, something felt off. 

“Shall we go?” The man asked standing “I shall take you to the rest of the crew. I’m very happy you’ve decided to join, I really didn’t want to stay out any later. I’m Khokke.” 

“Khokke? That sound Ugupmupian, named after a Peakman?” 

Khokke gave a sad smile and shook his head. “It’s Ugupmu for Abandon.”

Oridi didn’t know what to say to that. Instead she nodded.

“Im Oridi. It doesn’t mean anything, but it may as well mean the same.”

“Come Oridi, the others are waiting not too far.” 

Khokke didn’t attempt to make any conversation or give any answers, he barely waited for Oridi to catch up and pocket the Sen. She managed to do so quickly, and caught up with the valleyman. Their path was strange and wound the duo through a number of alleys well beyond view of the main road. It eventually came out to a small plaza decorated with two boxed pots bearing large thick barked trees with dipping branches. The plazas cobble was in haphazard design, thrown together in haste from its look. Across this chasm of inferior design and craftsmanship stood a two story building designed to look stone but made of wood. 

The roof was bright and detailed with sloping edges capped in striking depictions of past battles of onlooking creatures. The roof was gorgeous, aged true, and worn by the weather, but still beautiful. The building however, it looked so bland in comparison. The windows matched the designs of those around. Square. Blocky. Simple. 

“Ho! Khokke, I see you’re back!” A young male Tsenian facial features, sharp eyes, long ears, angled face, but with hair of darkened sun and skin of the coastal warriors. It wasn’t dark, but tanned and blotched in patches of hardened skin that could give the appearance of salt in the direct light. It was a strange trait, one Oridi had never really understood. The boy stood up and tied back his dirty blond hair and smiled wide. He looked no older than his fifteenth year, but that didn’t seem right. Something in her said he was strange. 

“Ho Albert! How is our fearless leader tonight?” 

“Leader?” Oridi asked in astonishment. “You?”

“Yes,” Albert said slyly “I know, but i’m much older than I look. That and I can pay. Now then, inside you two. With our team assembled we’ve much to discuss!” 

Before either party could utter another syllable, Albert dashed off into the house and left the wide door open. Someone groaned from inside and the sounds of footsteps followed. A woman in a strange black coat bearing buttons along the sides from shoulder to shin and carrying a beak nossed mask strode angrily towards the door and made to shut it before noticing the stupified duo. 

“Well,” She scowled “In with you two! Honestly your as bad as Albert, Khokke. You too newby, dont let these two rub off on you.” 

With haste Khokke ushered himself and Oridi in through the door and past the still scowling woman. 

“Honestly don’t know why I have to mother you all.” The woman muttered. 

Inside, Oridi found that the bulk of the room was open and bare of any furniture spare a long central table bearing three highbacked chairs on either elongated side and a single one at the head. Each was occupied spare three. 

Albert sat at the head of the concession, wide childish grin still plastered across his face. The side of the table held two people, a man of pure Tsenian heritage, one the priests would refer to as a pure Elf, and woman with trunk like arms, reddish skin, and near tusks protruding from her lower jaw. Despite the odd feature the woman was beautiful. She was built like a warrior, strength oozing from every muscle. She looked as if the Goddess had drafted her themselves as a template for all the the Kamdu-Re should aspire to be. The chair beside the man, sitting in the center of the left, was empty and with a grunt the woman returned and took her place within it. 

To the right the center seat held a tall man with a similar skin tone and shape as Khokke, but leaner and more toned. He looked to be almost of the peaks, maybe of the lower edges where the others of the world could actually engage with the strange peoples of the peaks. 

“Sit, sit.” Albert called eagerly. “We need to discuss why were all here.”

“I’ll say.” The Elf said, voice every bit as pompous as Oridi had expected. Did they know that people wanted to punch them because of that? “We’ve spent three days here and I’ve not gotten a single answer. I’d have left sooner if you had not provided such exquisite offerings of food and wine, but surely you understand my merciful palette can’t be sated forever.”

“I understand. Introductions then, before we get to the real meat of our ordeal-”

“Why are we here?” Oridi blurted the question out without a second thought. She’d wondered it so many times in her life and had never gotten an answer before. Maybe now, so close to getting one, she couldn’t wait and just wanted to test this boy. See if he actually intended to talk, or just kill them all for fun. 

Albert didn’t seem to be of nobility, but along the coasts one could never tell. Their kings and nobles often worked alongside their men. Oridi had thought it was because the kingdom was poor, it wasn’t until she found out the center of that kingdom was Rubedelle that she understood. The king works as hard as the lowest man, so the lowest man may live like a king in comparison to others. She’d never been, but the stories said the kingdom harsh and the King occasionally cruel, but it was always just and each man ate and could sleep indoors. No one was left in the cold, no one was ever turned away. 

“Oridi, calm down.” Khokke pulled her sleeve to appease her. She shook him away.

“Answers Albert. Why so many? Why so much Sen? Why just for a meeting? Why do you need fighters And scholars? What are you planning?”

Albert was quiet a long time, staring pointedly towards Oridi, as if trying to read her. He sighed and shrugged before finally releasing Oridi from his gaze. 

“Fine, well then. Since you’re so keen on it I’ll tell you.” Albert drew in a breathe and sighed again. The boy seemed so resigned to this. 

“Together, all of us in this room are going to kill Count Philistine and his Daughter Elizabeth.”