Closed Only Time Will Tell (Lance) Pt 2

[Tazrae]

Timestamp: 11th of Fall, 523 A.V.

Continued From: Only Time Will Tell

They headed south and west from the spa, walking the stone pathways of The Outpost. The air was scented in the aroma of a dry desert. There was heat, the smell of baked stone, and vibrant green things that were planted everywhere. The Outpost had no lack of water, as artesian wells pooled up below its stone boundaries, filling the numerous parks and providing all the water the visitors required. Tazrae lead Lance through several parks, by multiple outdoor food stands, and through the shopping crowds like she was navigating the jungle. The Sykan Innkeeper was dressed in a colorful flowing ankle length skirt that was mainly creams and peaches. Her matching halter top left a small section of her stomach exposed. Though she carried no backpack or belt pouch, she did wear a charm bracelet. There were rings on her fingers and an armband in the shape of a snake. She had earrings in her ears, and her dark blond hair was unbound, its curls bouncing with her walk. She wore no cosmetics, and the sandals on her feet were thin and golden, perfect for navigating The Outpost.

She glanced at him periodically, as if sizing up his reaction to The Outpost, the crowds, and everything around them. It was almost as if she were trying to decide if this was his first trip of just one of many. She started to speak, hesitated, then changed directions again. This happened more than once before she finally said…. “How about a game? Between us as we head through the crowd to our next destination?” She called over her shoulder, glancing around to seemingly catch her bearings.

“I ask a question, you have to answer it, then I get to ask a question. You have to answer honestly. You can’t ask the same question back to a person that you yourself were asked. And if you don’t want to answer, you owe the other person a silver miza.” Taz added, laying out the rules as she twisted and turned through the throng of people.

She had a loose-hipped way of moving. It was as if she walked with her entire body, twisting that way and this way, avoiding contact with people as if it would mean her death. She was light-footed as well, with one foot striking the ground only on the balls of her feet before she pushed off again. Taz was graceful and lithe as a Sykan, having learned how to move as a very important part of her training. One didn’t blunder straight through the jungle cutting everything in sight with a machete. It was just bad form. Instead, one wove and darted, ducked and leaped, as they traversed the heavy vegetation. Crowds in The Outpost were no different than jungle in Falyndar that was shrouded in vegetation. Syka had life everywhere. The Outpost did not. Its hot baked sky pounded down on the unsuspecting people in the city proper until they sought the shade of gardens, grottos, and inner courtyards.

“I’ll even let you have the first question.” She offered generously.

A few more weaves, two more direction changes, and hitting the western wall of the Outpost, Taz finally stopped to look around. She headed right until they hit a pair of black double doors, which she wrapped hard on. Tossing Lance a grin over her shoulder, she pushed through when they double doors cracked, and walked into what one could only consider an enormous windowless cave.

The music hit them first, drums thrumbling deeply in their sternums and other musicians – flutes, guitars, lyres, horns of all sort, and singers… crowded the space dwarfed only by the sheer number of dancers filling the place. “This is called Aftermath. It’s a club dedicated to Rhaus and Ivak who is The God of Fire and Emotions. The two deities are said to be close friends.” Taz said, gesturing out across the large open space. At the far side of the room was a raised dais filled with instruments and about twenty styles of drums… some manned some unmanned.

It was dark in the place, backlit with blazing torches that seemed to glow in almost every color under the stars. Opposite of the dais was a huge bar stretching the length of the club. The place had its share of smoke, both illusional and from actual torches that burned to light up the gloom and offer warmth to the room. One could not make out individual faces, only forms moving around in the darkness of the dancefloor, bouncing to the beat the musicians offered.

Taz caught Lance’s arm and wove through the crowd with him until they hit the bar where she ordered two raspberry burning loves, and grinned at the bartender who said he had a wheelbarrow for her to return. She nodded then turned to Lance to explain. “Syka sends them pineapple and mango, but we deliver them by wheelbarrow. When they run out, they send the wheelbarrow back for another load with the first Sykan that walks through the door.” She said, thanking the bartender who set drinks down in front of them.

“Drink up… because guess where we are headed next?” She said, surveying the dance floor. She’d let him take a guess or two, but regardless of whether he was right or wrong, she’d gesture out to the dance floor. “Not out there… no… not for us. We’re heading up there!” She said, pointing at vacant drums, instruments, and a dais only half full of performers. “This… this is the best kind of medicine for our kind to recharge.” She added, and it was then and only then that Lance would realize that they had drawn close to the other musicians that Rhaus had at least half a dozen if not more marked in the crowd.

Taz leaned closer, a wicked grin on her face. “Welcome home. Lets go beat some leather.” She added, polishing off the drink, and grabbing his hand to pull him through the crowd. They were going to help craft a beat… and in doing so, hear the heartbeat of the world echo through them.

Words: 1024

[Lance Windhelm]

Lance looked at the woman as she spoke about the gods and goddesses. He was happy to hear her confirm his suspicions about them, how they were not perfect things, but had flaws and personalities like they did. But it also worried him on some level. It showed him just how fickle they could be. When he would get angry at something as a kid, he would throw a tantrum, what does that look like on a level of a God? Do whole races vanish out of nowhere, or a city blink out of existence? Maybe they themselves were bound by some power that kept them in line, kept them tame, he wondered if that was djed.

Lance nodded when she poke of Rhaus. He could see that coming from the God, not liking situations that where so, suck, or bound. Lance could only share in her feelings on the surface, he understood that Rhaus was there and saw something special in him. But he wasn't sure exactly what that was, but it too makes him different. He smiled at the thought of that night they has spent with each other. Sometimes he wishes he could go back and do it again, change a thing or two, but most importantly to enjoy it. He was so bound up in disbelief and confusion that he didn't shower him the proper respect, but what was he supposed to do, sacrifice an animal or get on his knees to worship? He was sure that he would find a way to do Rhaus a service, and maybe that was to simply live the life he had intended for him with gratitude.

He watched the woman touch a gem in her chest. Lance hadn't noticed it till she brought it to his attention. There was a lot he didn't notice, that made him feel embarrassed, not, "listening", like she had said to him so many times. Her body was marked, cuts that could have only spoken of torture crawled down her. A gem with no chain. Hands that had been beaten by time and use. He had a lot to learn. He wondered about that gem but when she started to speak about training and how he should go about it, the thought fell to the back of his mind like a pebble in a pond.
"Of course." He said about Sunberth. That place would hate mages, he nodded. It seemed his only option as of now was to learn from her. It would be the fastest way, at least till he saved up to get to Syka. "Maybe we can arrange something, share the cost of a peace of land maybe, make us an area, or rent a home." He wasn't sure what they would need, not to mention what kind of property his training would require. "Would I have to... you know... go through that ritual?" His face scrunched as he said it. It sounded painful, learning to make Res. And he wondered how many people it would even take. He wondered if there where more basic things one would learn before that.

As they got up to leave Lance was faced with a question he should have answered a long time ago.

"Of course! My name is Lance... Lance Windhelm." He instinctively gave his hand to shake.

He kept his eyes off her in respect. He knew she might not mind, but the last thing he wanted to do was sit there and ogle her body. That might be a fast way to ruin the relationship he was building. Instead he turned to the other side of the pool and went to retrieve his things and pay his bill.

He had forgotten how hot it was there. But his feet felt clean in his high boots and his body was just a little damp as the rest of his clothing clung to his back and arms. He felt over dressed, and he was. He was ready to go on some sort of adventure before, now he ended up lugging around things he was pretty sure he didn't need. His longsword and dagger hung from his belt line, his backpack hung from his shoulders and a wide brimmed, leather hat sat upon his head. He did have his sleeves rolled up as to fight the desert heat, it showed the long scar that ran up his left arm, from his palm to elbow.

He followed her through the crowded Bazaar, but she moved like a snake, weaving through the carts and people, the buildings and down the streets like trees in a forest. Lance tried to keep up, but he seemed to shoulder check every other person, apologizing as he moved, then would find himself just that much further behind. He took the lefts and the rights, keeping his eye on her, and she was watching him too. Not going far enough where they would lose each other in the crowd and when they were close enough she asked him about playing a game.

"Umm." He thought for a moment, "those scars on your body, are they all from when you learned... you know?" He hinted about learning how to use Res. He didn't want to speak it too loud in the crowd, who knew how these people felt about it all.

They finally had come to a large doorway in which Taz knocked. It opened and gave way to a large cavern. Music echoed and people sang. The Aftermath she called it. He wondered why it was called that, maybe a remnant of when the city was built, but why would the Goddess care about Rhaus or Ivak? Unless that was something that came later.

"The Aftermath?" Lance questioned why it was named such.

Darkness and noise and fire lit the place, albeit dimly. Lance could feel the crowd, their presence, he could even sense the marked bards within the group, but the faces he couldn't make out at all. And he stopped looking for them when they made it to the bar. Lance's stomach turned a little. Alcohol. Again? His body seemed to cry out, but he pushed the drink down his throat like bad medicine, saying, "why not?" And smirking.

He let her pull him through the crowd by his hand. He could see the people pounding on drums and playing instruments, the crowd moved to its beat. Lance couldn't help but bob his head and try to keep up with the young woman.

WC: 1084

[Tazrae]

Tazrae nodded when he gave her his name finally. She’d introduced herself early on, but he hadn’t responded in kind. She hadn’t been surprised really. Sunberthians, even transplants, tended to be close lipped about their identities. But if she was going to show him a bit of The Outpost, then she figured he owed her his actual name. Once she had it – and she was fairly certain it was his real name – for he showed no signs of lying. He didn’t glance away, hesitate, or even take a moment to maybe think of one to give her before answering. That made her feel a lot better, truthfully.

His question about her scars gave her pause though. She halted in the middle of the street, blinked in surprise, then realized what he was saying and shook her head. “No. I’m fond of my Reimancy Initiation Scars. They are on my palms and a few other places. The ones you are referring too aren’t… don’t have anything to do with magic. Induction into the elements isn’t torture.” She said softly, then continued on the way, bent on getting somewhere fast… somewhere that she looked forward to being.

They finally made it to the Inarta owned club and Taz smiled. “Why Aftermath?” She shouted over the din of the crowd and the music. “It’s a good story… a long one but a good one. It’s about the death of the world and the reawakening of it. Its about love lost and grief that shatters the soul. And its about rebirth… and what comes after the story is told.” Taz replied, leaping lightly up onto the dais and weaving her way until she came to the drums.

There she reached out her hands, tracing them across the drums that weren’t being used, as if making an introduction and looking for the exact one that called to her. She took her time, swaying to the deep music that was already playing. People danced beneath them out on the floor. Due to the lighting, it was just a mass of writhing bodies, almost primitive, in the way they touched each other.

To Tazrae though, the music was a living thing, like the root systems of a giant ring of mushrooms or the entwined branches of a forest all growing together overhead. Notes flowed into notes, the beat taking off this way and that. Taz moved like the music, danced to it as well, as she wove in and out of the drums… finally settling on a huge kettle drum that had a beater hanging from its side. She caressed its dark surface, the big head of the drum a good three feet across. She glanced up at Lance, then gestured down at the drumhead. “Horse… see the darker shaded line down its center? That’s where the mane was… that’s how I know the dark skin is horse.” Taz said, giving it a solid pat. “They want to run, to jump, to roam….” She said, picking up the beater and stroking it lovingly. It was the size of her arm with a rabbit fur covered head that was the size of her fist. She closed her eyes, feeling the essence of the music, and started with a thump on the drum. She picked up the beat, then counter beat for a breath or two, before she finally found the backbeat to the current music. Tazrae created a strong accent on what passed for an upbeat note on the music that thrummed through the space. She tripped up once, twice, then settled into a 4/4 drum pattern that accented the second and forth beats of the other drumming sequences.

When she found It – that perfect pattern - she glanced up at him and grinned, loving that the drum was high enough on its large stand that she could dance as she slapped the hide with the furred beater, letting her addition to the music erupt all around her. Tazrae loved the sense of merging with the music, being another set of notes in a complex pattern.

Then she gestured around her, drums abound plus there were other instruments laying around. Some of the numerous musicians on the dais gave gestures and smiles of encouragement as the pair joined them and selected their ways to contribute. When the music called for it, Taz lifted her voice, adding howls and cries that mingled with the drumming. Further down the stage, someone grabbed a brass horn of some sort and joined the music with a wind instrument. Coming out of the darkness behind them, an enormous Akalak dragged a base cello forward and picked up the baseline as well. Taz grinned, nodding her approval as she waited for Lance to pick his poison and join in.

Words: 795

[Lance Windhelm]

The word, "torture" gave Lance pause. He wondered who and why, but it was her turn for a question. The idea of torture was a ridiculous one to him. Who would do that to another person, and to get reliable information? He felt there were better ways. Lance could imagine how much of that happened in Sunberth, and how much of it happened for fun? The small moment between questions turned awkward for him, he would catch up to her and nudge.

"So, what quetion do you have for me?" He smiled. At this point Lance felt like an open book. He followed the woman twist and turn through the Bazaar the best he could. She looked to be in a rush. In the back of Lance's mind he wondered if she had an appointment of some kind.

As they passed some of the stores it made Lance remember he wanted to change some of his clothing, or maybe even find somewhere where he could stow some of his gear. The clothing that was displayed, things of cloth and shirts that he'd probably never wear, flowing and lined with lace or velvet, long coats with the end of the sleeves that bushed out into white fabric. Other things did catch his eye. The long coats, colored red or blue. Large hats with colorful feathers that bushed out towards the back. And when he passed a small stand selling rapiers it that made him stop for a moment before he picked up again to catch Taz in her hurry. He'd be able to go back sometime and really shop, buy clothing to look more professional at his job. Who knows maybe he'd even be able to make more gold too.

The environment was friendly enough and they had guards walking about. So the thought of him dropping his gear of seemed feasible. He wouldn't know of where or how he could do such a thing. It was mostly the heat that made him want to change. The leather and cloth he was wearing was stating to make him sweat again and this soon after a nice bathing. Lance sighed. Plus keeping up with Taz didn't help.

Once they made it to the club she explained in an abbreviated way why it was called, "Aftermath". It sounded like a beautiful story and wanted to know more, but this just didn't seem like the place for it. The music thrumbbling in his chest, the people dancing about. He wasn't looking to part tonight and his stomach was just starting to settle before he'd gulped the drink down. Now it was back to a steady ache.

Once he put the glass on the bar, Lance removed his hat and put it in his backpack, as to not lose it in the place. If it fell off he wasn't confident he could find it with the dim lighting and crowd moving the way it was. She grasped his hand and they moved through the crowd, her with her the smooth bodily movement of a snake, him as graceful as an elephant on stampede. He tried to apologize as he bumped into people, his words lost in the music and everyone in a kind of thrall he attributed to alcohol and music. They didn't seem to care. Faces were also lost in the shadows. It was a large moving sea of feet and bodies the coalesced into a heartbeat thumping to the drums and instruments.

Tazrae led him up to a type of dias where the instruments sat. She walked next to one and ran her hand on it, showing him the leather. He hadn't payed much attention to the types of leather it was made out of or how that animals characteristics would shape it. He strained to listen and only answered her with a nod and smile. She moved to a large drum and slowly picked up the beat. Lance picked a smaller drum that had a chair in front of it. He sat down and closed his eyes.

The music was a live, flowing through him. He could feel it. He could hear it, almost understand it. Each pitch and tone, how they collided and melded together to create a melody all on their own. His hand started to smack the instrument. Simply picking up the beat from the artist next to him. His body waved back and forth, flowing with the ocean of vibrations. It was intoxicating. For a moment the world disappeared. It was just him and the music. No worries or fears. What was there to fear as a vibration that traveled endlessly into deep dark of a cave?

When he opened his eyes he had to blink twice. The whole place shifted scene. They were in the middle of a jungle, it was still night time and the general layout was the same, but the walls were lined with large trees, the path inbetween them lead off into darkness. The whole thing made Lance wonder what was going on. His drum was still there, Taz was there, the music was still flowing as casually as it had been. But the whole mountainous interior had changed to something wholly different.

He closed his eyes again trying to get the bea back. He had paused and was having trouble getting the rhythm back. Smacking the instrument with the tips of his fingers and then changing it to the palms of his hand for a different tone. The sea of bodies moved to the different instruments on the stage.

He didn't notice that more and more people where coming onto the stage to beat the drums or to play the instruments that they had brought. He stuck with the drums. His gaze going over to the crowd that now surrounded them on the dias. Cellos, drums, and all sorts of instrument played by the marked and the unmarked. It was about having fun, falling in love with the beat and letting his body just move.

Lance hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Sure sailors had their ways, but this club was on whole different level. He shot Taz a smile and pounded away on the drum. He was wondering how often she comes here and if she had many friends that she's brought to the Aftermath.

His thoughts were interrupted by a man in the crowd screaming. It wasn't something that went with the music, nor did it sound natural. It cut through the drums like a knife, he wasn't sure if it was due to his astute hearing or if the man was actually that loud. It caused some of the musicians to halt mid beat, though they were probably just random people from the crowd. The music still continued nonetheless, but it was a short sister when compared. The crowd still moved as if it was an ocean, uncaring and fierce. Lance saw the man, though only dimly, he was running towards the stage, then his body came to a drastic stop as he screamed again, kneeling at the base of the where the drums sat.

Lance stopped, looked to Taz and ran into the crowd. When he got to the man he was talking nonsense, shivering, and scratching at his skin as if something was crawling all over him. Lance didn't know if there was anything he could do, and wondered if there were guards to take him to help. He had no idea what could cause such a thing to happen to a human. It reminded him of a fever, how it could throw people into hallucinations, but that was just a guess.

WC: 1278

[Tazrae]

Tazrae blinked in surprise at Lance’s question about her question. She hadn’t known he’d wanted to play because he hadn’t said anything in response to her suggestion of the game. Or if he had, she hadn’t heard him while she’d been navigating the crowd. She almost said something, asking if he’d responded but she let the question die. He might think it part of the game and it was decidedly not. The Question Game was one of her favorites to play between people she knew and people she’d just met. It was also rather fun in a crowd. She liked it more than dice, numerous card games, and even the stacking block game where people pulled a block from a tower of blocks to rest on top of other blocks until the whole pile fell. Taz often played games to pass the rainy days and keep her guests occupied and having fun.

Conversation came naturally to her because she was outgoing and nurturing. A long time ago, someone close to her had called her a perfect Innkeeper type because she could make people feel at home and special. Taz roamed through her life thinking everyone was special, and making sure they knew it. The habit had gotten her into more trouble than she knew how to deal with at times… and had landed her in a heap of situations in Syka. Even the Ixam – Syka’s horse-sized riding lizards - flocked to her home, onto her land, and didn’t seem to want to leave. They’d been a problem for the Settlement until she’d put them to work.

Everyone needed a mounted Calvary right?

She turned back to Lance, unwilling to talk about certain things like torture or whether an induction into Reinmancy was necessary. It wasn’t. They were rare. It wasn’t often a teacher decided to teach a student, and when it happened it bound the two together long term in a djedline that was only broken upon death. “Why are you so drawn to magic? I mean leaving in Sunberth and knowing how dangerous it is. Why?” She asked him plainly during a more quiet moment on the street. If they were going to play the game, she was going to play it hard.

When it was quieter, later, and the din of the day had died down she’d tell him the story if he hadn’t heard it already. Taz loved stories like Aftermath and what it meant to the world. For now, there were good drinks and music – both they could partake of – and a lot of drumming to do. She nodded her approval at his selection and how he jumped into the percussion section, adding to the beat. He all but glowed with the energy that flowed from him as they tapped Rhaus’ power and privilege, being of his marked. She didn’t know what Lance saw in his inner sight, but she liked the expression of wonder, joy and how he simply let go to move with the music.

The truth was she came frequently, whenever she needed to discharge excess energy or pound away at a problem. She came here when she felt utterly alone in the world and her Wildling nature was dragging her away from civilization and into the Wilds. It was here, at Aftermath, where she could remember she was human once, that time had affected her once, and that music had its own kind of magic. It grounded her, drove away the Wildling Nature for a while, and settled her back into her Innkeeper persona.

Besides, Rhaus and Ivak were often seen in attendance, and once in a while she had the privilege of either playing or dancing with the God she followed. Taz had never danced with Ivak, but when he was around… the dark-haired broody man with mourning eyes… the emotion in her settled, grounded away, and gave her space to breathe. When she was afraid, feeling lost, overwhelmed, or the babies seemed to much responsibility… Ivak made it all go away. It was a privilege all of the dancers and musicians, even those bums at the bar that did neither, got to enjoy. They rarely ever realized it. But Taz had different eyes. She’d watched Gods scheme and plot and seen the tortured results of their ‘games’ and ‘fun’. She’d seen deities play with humans like they were moving pawns on a chessboard… and she’d seen lives destroyed directly due to their hands. She’d almost been a casualty herself.

Learning to take back one’s own power was hard. It was like being moored in quicksand and dragging oneself out of certain death inch by inch using a jungle vine one thought was going to break any second. So every time she struck the beater to the horsehair kettle drum, Taz felt a release and a refill of purer energy inside herself. She felt better with every breath, every beat, and every time she tipped her head back and howled or screamed as the beat demanded. Aftermath had a primal music that she loved. It bipased all the formal things she’d ever heard in Riverfall and beyond. This was Rhaus at his finest. The Inartan Twins that had created the club had paid their homage well.

Taz found herself growing tired of the drumming, and backed down off the backbeat. She shifted her stance, altered her rhythm slightly and transformed the drum run she was doing into a single-stroke roll where she uncomplicated her two-beat pattern into a single simple drum roll with an alternating left- and right-hand stroke. It gave her shoulders a rest and helped her straighten her back. She could play like that a long time and still be part of the music. In her joy of playing, she took time to study Lance as he performed and got into the music. He was an interesting person, someone she wanted to get to know better, and someone she hoped could be a friend. Sunberth hadn’t obviously ruined him yet. Not that it couldn’t happen. There was some sort of pallor of misery over that whole city. He must not have been there long, because sooner or later he’d be feeling it.

She grinned at something he did, deciding the man could figure out fun. Taz had a whole lot of responsibility on her shoulders, and needed this… this loss of self… this joining of a group, a community, a mass ritual of energy production. The Innkeeper opened her mouth to make a comment at Lance, perhaps to ask him for his question to her, when a scream cut through the crowd – not one musically inclined – but one of fear and pain.

Taz dropped her beater, laying her hands flat on the kettle drum to silence it, and watched as Lance jumped into action. Their eyes met briefly, and Taz found herself hot on his heels. The Innkeeper had no healing skills at all. She didn’t have any clue what was wrong with the man. Her skillset was the jungle, listening, learning, wielding magic, and a machete and bullwhip. This was out of her wheelhouse. Looking around, the man was drawing a crowd but no one was acting. Taz understood why immediately. The dancers out on the floor were mostly inebriated, a few looked like they were on harder things with glassy eyes and staring at the incident as if it wasn’t real. But the lack of help and knowledge didn’t stop Taz from assessing the situation and kneeling down beside the man. She glanced at Lance, uncertain, then touched the man looking for what he was scratching at to make sure there were no bugs on him. “He needs medical help I think.” Taz said, shouting over the staring muttering crowd. Most of the music was silenced now. Aftermath had become a huge open area with silence reverberating around the facility, augmenting the noise of the barmaids and bartenders cleaning glasswear and mixing drinks.

“There’s a place… not far from here called the Redynn…. They have really good Healers there. I know one that works there, Shiress, on the regular and she says its one of the best places around for doctors. Should we take him there?” She asked, knowing she couldn’t carry the man on her own. She’d definitely need Lance’s help if he was willing to convince the man to go with them… or they were able to haul the man that far.

Words: 1407

[Lance Windhelm]

They continued to move through the city. The smells and bustle of it almost reminded him of Sunberth, but on a more sophisticated and less chaotic level. Things in Sunberth were just thrown, or placed haphazardly, lines and organization seemed to be an afterthought, if thought of at all. It was astonishing what a little order and civilization could do for a place. He knew that Sunberthians wouldn’t settle for any sort of order, somehow they were happy where they were. Constant fighting between gangs and anarchy tendencies.

At her question Lance smiled. He didn’t have time to think about it but answered as truthfully as he could.

“Magic, is just interesting… intriguing.” He searched for the word. “Before today I really didn’t know anything about it. I thought it was just stuff you heard about in tales. Not something I could learn.” He said as heat collected in his face as a touch of embarrassment hit him. “As a kid we always played at having special powers, going invisible, or flying like a bird. And to actually have the capacity to learn those things… I’m surprised more don’t accept it.” He said. “The dangerous nature of it worries me a bit. And I probably don’t know half of it.” Questions where coming to mind concerning magic, but he pushed them away. “Me being in Sunberth is a coincidence. I was sort of… washed up there. A ship I was on got caught in a storm, and I rashly decided to stay in Sunberth. I don’t share in their dislike for magic, as you can see. And knowing what I do about Sunberth, I am kind of afraid to learn and practice it there. Staying here and learning to use it would be most beneficial.” He said, hoping that they could still talk about that at some point in the night.

He tried to put his thoughts into words. The fear he had of Sunberth was already overwhelming at times, and adding on to the fact that he could learn to use magic or maybe even hunted for his djed scared him. They were in his top reasons to learn magic. He wondered what he could do with it, or what it’s limitations where. If it had a role in creating this city, though wielded by a goddess, he wondered what the ceiling was, or if there was one. He was starting to connect the dots between music and magic. Both were invisible forces in the world, and if he could use music to effect peoples lives, like he has already, how much more could he use the mystical arts to do the same?

He reluctantly pulled another question about magic out of his head and placed it upon his lips, “What kind of things have you seen people do with… Djed?” He felt as if he was abusing this game. She probably wanted him to ask questions about her, and plenty of those were coming to his mind, but while on the subject of magic, his question just seemed like the natural progression of the conversation.

He hoped he’d answered the question to her liking. Lance felt like an open book, he wasn’t sure if his trust was misplaced, but Taz hasn’t lead him wrong yet. At least not that he knows of. He could see them becoming friends, maybe even teacher and student. He was yet to see her skills at teaching, but at this point in time he would settle for anything, and getting out of Sunberth occasionally had its pluses.

The music in Aftermath seemed to shake the whole of the cave. His proximity to the drums and instruments might have played a role in the sensation. He couldn’t help but let it invade him, push and pulling him to its ways. Leading his mind into places of wonder and his emotions in to the understanding of ruthlessness, beauty, lustfulness, and love. He almost wanted to tear up when the man in the crowd interrupted his flow.

His previous thoughts vanished while he ran to the man, instead they where filled with compassion and worry. Compassion for the man and worry that he wouldn’t be able to help him.

“Do you want us to help you?” He asked. The man didn’t answer, he only scratched and mumbled. Lance looked up at Taz, and when she had said there was somewhere they could take him for help he didn’t hesitate to wrap the man’s arm around his shoulder and lift him. He squirmed a little and continued to mumble and occasionally shout out. But he wasn’t actively fighting. Lance though he might be lost in his mind.

“Can you grab his other arm?” Lance asked Taz.

They worked their way through the packed crowd, some still dancing, some looking at them as if he was in the way, hauling a drunken man out of a club. The music continued to reverberate through the cave as Lance lead them back out and onto the street. Lance was surprised it was still sunlight once he opened the doors, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering about the wheelbarrow that Taz was supposed to take back with her. There will be time for that, he hoped. Then, concern of the man filled him again. What had caused this? Was it something in the alcohol? Maybe something the man had eaten? Lance’s knowledge of poison and rot and how it might effect the human body was not in is knowledge base.

“Which way is this place?” Lance asked Taz. Followed by, “Have you seen this before? It reminds me of a fever.” Lance’s hands were slipping occasionally on the man’s clammy skin. Now that he was in the light, he could see how pale he was, and without the noise of the Aftermath Lance still couldn’t make out the man’s mumbles, he was starting to think it was just sound with no meaning. Pain maybe?

WC: 995

[Tazrae]

Tazrae listened to Lance’s explanation of his fascination with magic and nodded. What he said made sense. She was impressed that he admitted to her that some of his notions on magic came from a child’s imagination; what he was when he was a boy. She wondered if anything of that dreamer and his imagination was left in the adult man. “You are in a very dangerous place for Magics and Mages, being in Sunberth. But you can’t live here. This place… is in many ways far more dangerous than Sunberth. It would take… a lot of explaining to make you understand. I would be willing to try though. And that would be a second story I need to tell you. Let me suggest this… we buy some good wine, food enough to get us through the night, and rent one of those beautiful apartments at the Khamsin Inn overnight. We can light a fire, camp out before it, and tell stories. I have two to tell you, so that means you would owe me two as well. Could four stories carry us through the night? I think they might.” Taz said, grinning at the thought.

“I also have a book you might like to thumb through. It is a very rare tome of magic. It talks about the different types, what they do… it is… an Encyclopedia … a complete listing… of the known Arcanology out there. I believe it’s the only one of its kind that survived the Valterrian.” Taz added. She had more than one book with her. The satchel charm on her charm bracelet housed them safe and sound, ready for a time she might need them. She’d normally keep such rare things at home, but anyone familiar with Syka understood that the tropical rainforest butted up against the warm Suvan Sea was not ideal for storing precious books. The magic of her charm bracelet housed it far better and prevented damp and salt air from all but destroying the precious pages.

“What have I seen done with djed?” Taz mused a moment. “Well, you have to understand that Syka has… different people. Not all those who live there are from Mizahar. Some are from off-world and very strange. I have a good friend… he is not human. He looks like a … a bat almost. He’s taught me many things about djed that most mages who are human or close enough don’t understand. I’ve seen him do things that seem impossible. I’ve seen people do things with djed that seem impossible as well. It can help them breathe underwater for example. I’ve seen them change from people to animals. I’ve seen them grow wings and fly… like you have dreamed of as a little boy. I’ve seen djed help people see better and in different ways. With djed, you can see in the dark or see heat in cold places. Us bards… we can speak over long distances with our divine djed from Rhaus. We can temper the mood of a crowd. We can explode the eardrums of an enemy in battle. I’ve seen warriors with bonds to their weapons be able to call them out of nowhere… and send them back to that nowhere. I’ve seen djed build protective shields. And Reimancers like me can call fire I can dance with, or make water out of thin air to drink where no water exists. A better question would be what you cannot do with djed? I could not answer that one. Because I think you can do anything you want if you can figure out how to do it and have enough creativity and a deep enough djed pool.” Taz said simply. She’d talk magic for bells and bells… and that was a safe topic here on the streets. But there were other things to do… things Taz needed.

The Question Game wasn’t about what she wanted him to ask her. It wasn’t about the actual questions asked even. The Question Game was a clear look into someone else’s mind and personality. It often revealed their driving forces or where their thoughts were taking them. To Tazrae, what someone asked was far more important than the answers. The way the answers were given, however, was often also telling. The way each person asked or answered varied so deeply from individual to individual… but after a while pattern emerged. He would see it if he played it multiple times with different people.

“I’ll hold my questions until after we spend some time here.” She explained, them having arrived at The Aftermath. And with that, they wandered into the crowd, had a drink, and then began to play … enjoying the atmosphere until they were interrupted by the sick man.

The whole time while Lance had reacted, Taz had been half expecting her Danger Sense to explode into action – making her see their skin break out in pox or feel herself coughing until she couldn’t breathe – but nothing happened. The young Innkeeper figured it meant that the man wasn’t ill with the type of sickness that was contagious or would put everyone at The Outpost at risk. So she didn’t hesitate when Lance hoisted the fellow up and wrapped one of his arms over his shoulder. Taz slipped into the spot opposite, taking the other man’s arm over her shoulders. Hanging on to him this way, the pair was able to fairly easily maneuver the muttering man and get him out of the club. “The Redrynn is north of here… “ Taz said vaguely, looking around. She wasn’t an expert on The Outpost, but she had a vague sense of where everything was. While one was here, they just seemed to want to go someplace and then start wandering. Eventually, they’d end up there.

It was quieter outside, even though they passed the occasional bit of crowd. People wandered The Outpost at all hours, sometimes alone, but more often in groups. Lance and Tazrae passed small groups as they maneuvered the ill man northward along the sidewalk paths, going by shop after shop, open bazaar booths, and food vendors standing in the path quietly and politely hawking their wares. Meanwhile, the man kept displaying his symptoms openly… confusion, lethargy, and muttering incoherently. Taz could tell he was also sweating profusely. All of that did remind her of a fever.

“Honestly? I don’t know anything about medicine. I’ve always been surrounded by friends who were doctors or nurses, or marked by The Goddess of Healing. They can heal just by touching. I’ve never needed to learn any…” She said, suddenly regretting that fact enormously. Someday she was going to be out in the jungle by herself and end up getting hurt. Then… then she’d really regret it. “My sister is a fairly accomplished healer, Rak’keli marked and all. She didn’t inherit the magic I did. My… entire family is prone to mages. Kami always felt lesser for being a healer rather than a mage. But she wasn’t… not at all. She’s by and large the better of the two of us. She’s far more needed in this world.” Tazrae said softly, gesturing that they make a turn.

Before long they were standing in front of a posh building that was made of expensive stone that gleamed in the slowly darkening sky. Taz didn’t hesitate, and lead them up the steps and into one of the most elegant healing facilities in Mizahar. It was decorated like some sort of high-end temple or resort, with a wide hallway leading off into the distance. There were plush seating areas on the left, and on the right, there were a series of individual curtained-off chambers that were set aside for patients and their families in small multiple-bed clusters. The floor was marble, and glittering lamps were illuminating the facility everywhere.

Taz paused at the entrance and lifted her voice. “Hello? Anyone here? Shiress… Murine? Twilight maybe?” She asked out into the emptiness of the expansive hallway. There was a rustling further down, and a pale woman with iridescent scaled skin stuck her head out, did a quick assessment, and shook her head in disgust.

“Not again!” Murine said, glancing between Tazrae and Lance. “Where did you find him this time?” Annoyance crossed her lovely features as she scowled down at the man hanging limply now between Taz and Lance.

“Murine, this is Lance.” Taz said, ignoring the woman’s almost ill temper. “He’s from Sunberth and I think this is his first visit to The Outpost.” She added, then glanced at the man they held aloft between them. “Do you know him? We found him at Aftermath… in this condition. We didn’t know if he was sick or something.” Taz said, uncertainly. “Lance thinks he has a fever?” She said hesitantly.

Murine shook her head, then nodded to Lance. “Nice to meet you. I’m in charge here. And this is the derelict son of the head of security around here. Zed is going to be furious with him when Zac comes back. He’s not sick, he's just taken bad drugs, even though I warned him that most of them where he acquires his are ill-made and made of common ingredients half the time that will kill you… like fireplace ash mixed with acid.” She said, shaking her head. “Here, follow me. You can put Zac in a bed in here. I swear he’s Zed’s biggest humiliation. No one even actually believes the head of the Keiss… that stoic trustworthy man … produced this child as his first offspring.” She said, leading them into one of the side mini rooms that had multiple beds and a small kitchenette. The Innkeeper followed obediently, maneuvering the drugged man between herself and Lance until they got to the bed in question.

Taz and Lance laid him down on the bed Murine indicated. Taz bent and pulled the man’s boots off, then after setting them aside, she searched the man quickly, relieving him of several smaller weapons that she handed over to Murine. If the man was under the influence of bad drugs, she didn’t want him hurting the Konti healer. The healer then made a shooing motion.

“I'll take it from here. And I’ll also let Zed know you two brought his son in. He’ll be grateful and you never know when you might need a favor from the head of the Keiss. You’ll definitely be owed one by him after this. I’ve told him more than once that his son is going to be found lying in a corner of the bazaar sometime soon dead of an overdose and no one will be around to help him. I’m glad you two were this time.” She said softly, then gave them a thankful smile.

Taz was glad to be relieved of the man’s weight and rolled her shoulders. She gestured to Lance. “Ready? We can gather some supplies for the night and see about that room?” She added, thinking that’s probably what Lance wanted rather than more time out and about in the crowd. He’d relaxed in Aftermath, but that sort of atmosphere took some getting used to.

Leading him back out of the side chamber, down the hall, and back out the front of the Redynn… Taz paused at the bottom of the steps with a bit of uncertainty on her face. She looked left, then right, as if trying to decide where to gather said overnight supplies. “Any particular thing you were looking for? I don’t know what you like to eat so I don’t know what sort of snacks to grab. I don’t even know what you prefer to drink.” She said with a furrowed brow. The woman was still hot and a bit sweaty from drumming in the dark smoldering club.

“Plus I have another question for you.” She said thoughtfully, picking up the game where they’d left it off. “What is your earliest memory?” She said with a grin, wanting to know about him as a child.

Words: 2005

[Lance Windhelm]

A smile painted Lance's fase, "I think I might have a couple stories to share. Spending some time around a fire and sharing actually sound pretty nice." The day has been filled with a type of luxury he wasn't used to. The whole of the Outpost seemed geared towards relaxation and treating one's self to outever they wanted. He could find life here very nice if he could afford it. But her comment about danger changed his mind. He wanted to ask more about how it might be worse than Sunberth, but she mentioned a tome and Lance's eyes widened. "That would be very interesting to look through." He said through a broad smile. "How did you get your hands on something like that?" He asked.

Lance's eyes went even wider at everything he's heard. He was pleasantly surprised that his thought was right. Nothing was far from the hand of a mage. The things he could do with it, the changes he could make in people's lives. Healing, or making a house, or exploring the depths of the ocean for new things that might benefit Mizahar on as a whole. The mage seemed to be only limited by his or her imagination. He couldn't help but be reminded, that with that imagination comes a slew of dangers that me knows nothing about. Pushing the thought away he basked in his wonder, letting himself have it for a moment.

In his head he was like a child again. Thinking how he could manipulate fire, or breath underwater. Maybe fly like a bird, or even turn into one. Soaring through the sky being as free as the animal itself. Feeling the wind through his feathers. His muse knocked on the door of his imagination. The songs and stories he could tell would be numerous.

Lance tried to make a mental note of the things she listed off. He wondered if it would be too dangerous to try some of those things on his own. If he had the capability to perform magic, maybe he could try. Fear tinged the thought though. He would be playing with things that could cause him and the people around him much harm if used incorrectly. No, he would have to find a teacher or at least instructions.

Once they made it to the club, they had a quick drink, and then went to play the drums. Interrupted but an ill man in Aftermath they both grabbed ahold of him and made it through the crowd, headed north and came upon another luxurious looking building Taz said was the medical facility.

As they walked Lance wondered about her family. When she mentioned her sister was marked by another God Lance was, again, surprised. Thinking about it, it was an obvious thing, that other God's marked people. It wasn't something that was specific to Rhaus. How many gods and who they were was a question he wanted to ask. But he reserved it for a later time. He wanted to focus on the mater at hand, getting the man to safety. He was relieved when he saw the large steps that led up to the medical building.

Inside the building was large with marbled floors, and rooms partitioned off by curtains and couches. The colors where beautiful and the pillows looked soft all together it looked more like a type of resort than somewhere youd take an injured person. There was a long hall before them and at Tazrae's call another beautiful woman came out of one of the rooms. Her expression was one of anger. Her hair was long and white, and she seemed to have scales spiraling down her hands. She wasn't human, or if she was she might have has a spell on her for the scales to appear. If that was the case, Lance tried to think of the use for them. They reminded him of a fish.

At their introduction, Lance smiled.

"Hello." He said and shifted the man's arm to a better position on his shoulder. "Drugs?" He said. Then pulled him back to the bed she had lead them to. Down a hall and to a side.

Being owed a debt by someone high in the security at the Outpost had to have its benefits. He didn't entertain the thought for long. He was happy that she knew the man's situation and could help him. He had a feeling that if they left him to be at the club he might of been trampled or maybe robbed. Who knows if he would have survived the night.

"Thank you for helping him. Do you think his bill will be covered by his father?" Lance asked as she emptied the man of weapons.

Once they were back on the street Tazrae asked what foods he was interested in.

"I can go for any sort of food. Maybe something spicy." He thought aloud. Its been a long while since he's eaten anything that would bite back. It reminded him of home, his father would add loads of peper to things just to add heat to it.

As they started to walk Lance began to answer her question.

"My earliest memory..." He put his hand to his chin. "Growing up in Zeltiva I used to play with the other children. One day we were playing on the docks. One of the other kids foot got caught on the ropes of a moored ship. He fell into the water. I remember being so surprised and shocked. The boy was small, maybe 5 years old... when I looked over that ledge. I saw him there. Swimming. We both laughed after that. I thought he was going to drowned. I still didn't know how to swim myself, but those Sevfra." Lance grinned and shook his head. "They learn at an early age." He said. The surprise must have seared the memory into his mind. "What about you, what is your earliest memory?"

As they walked they came to a large spece where vendors gathered. It was back to were the dovecote was. Guards still stood by and the area had small troves of people walking around. The smell of food filled the air. Chicken and lamb where among them, the others were too exotic for Lance to guess. In the northern side of the square was a large fountain that welcomed people as they arrived at The Outpost. Lance stopped to look into a cart that cooked a meat that was skewered on sticks, covered with a, what smelled, spicy red powder and wrapped in a corn or wheat shell.

"This is making my mouth water." He said and smiled. "Do you care for spicy foods?" He asked. Then, "where did you want to get the room at?" He would carry most of the food and suggest her to carry the wine.

WC:1145

[Tazrae]

Taz shrugged at Lance’s question about the bill. “I’m sure something will be worked out between his father and Murine. That’s not really my business. I suspect this isn’t his first time here. But Murine will collect the debt somehow if she feels one is owed, I suspect.” She was reminded how glad she was that she didn’t live in a coin-driven society. She lived in a barter society in Syka… things weren’t about cash. They were about time, effort, and the trade of goods and services. Living in a situation where the presence of absence of coin meant life or death didn’t appeal to her. But she could see why Lance would worry about such things. “Not everything is about money here.” She added, before turning the situation over to Murine and quickly making an exit with Lance. She wasn’t even sure he understood that there had been an exchange of goods and services here… a favor owed was something nice to have. She didn’t mind the time it took to get the young man some help if that was the result.

She should have cared more if the man lived or died, but she didn’t know him and she trusted someone who deliberately put drugs in their body even less. They were masking pain, medicating illness that was unseen, or trying to escape a life they didn’t love. Such things weren’t the pathway to happiness. One only changed one’s life by making decisions… by acting. She’d once changed her own life by stepping on a boat and taking a leap of faith. If she hadn’t done that….

Taz’s train of thought trailed off as someone bumped into her or she bumped into them on the street. She politely excused herself to them, and continued on, trotting a little to keep pace with Lance and hear what he wanted for food. Food. Right. They were gathering supplies for the evening. Taz snapped her focus back to the man she was with and studied him a moment. For an instant… just an instant… she wondered how old he was? Physically he looked a bit older than she was. But there was something about him that was untampered, as if he hadn’t been through things in his life that hardened parts of him yet. She could have asked him how old he was, she supposed, but time was something Taz had a hard grasp on these days. It meant little and that meant that the man’s age beside her wasn’t important, not really. Older. Younger. Did it matter?

The Sykan snapped her attention back to the hear and now. Even in the Outpost, it didn’t suit to have one’s attention drift off, turn inward, and loose focus of one’s surroundings. Taz began scanning the path and pulled her attention back to the here and now… back to Lance’s voice. “I’m sure we can find something…” She said, looking around noticing they were skirting Fountain Square. The vendors were all over the place at this hour.

His story of his earliest memory was interesting. Taz smiled at his description of the boys fall and then swimming like a fish. “I know many Svefra. They often stop in Syka and we trade. They come to the Inn for refreshments. I don’t know a single one of them that can’t swim. I’ve gone sailing with them as well. They are amazing sailors. We hire them often when we need extra workers and some are lingering. I love their travel stories. They love the fresh fruit, water, and food available in Syka. They often go out of their way to stop to see us just to replenish their supplies. We have a tradition. The jungle is dangerous and many Sykans live scattered. So every ten days we have what’s called a Tenday celebration. They fall on the tenth, twentieth, thirtieth and so on. It becomes a big potluck community party with games, storytelling, dancing… and lots of music. The Svefra often crash it. Which gives us more musicians and better dance partner assortments.” Taz said with a grin. She loved Tendays and often cooked all day before one just to supply the potluck.

“You can’t ask me the same question I asked you. It was the only rule.” Taz reminded him.

“I’m not fond of overly spicy food, but I like a bit of heat.” Taz commented, glancing around what was essentially a food court. “Divide and conquer?” The Innkeeper suggested. Since she had no idea what he liked and he had no idea what she liked… they could both gather a spread and share if they wanted to later. She declined his offer to carry the food. Taz wasn’t one to load up people like pack-horses. She pulled off a backpack she seemed to like to carry with her and simply started moving through the food carts, taking a peek at their wares, sometimes buying sometimes not. She did procure a couple of waterskins of something or another. And she lingered over a bread cart, getting a rather large selection of breads. Those too went into her backpack. Then, at a cart of cheeses and butters… she picked up a few wedges and a crock of butter as well. She avoided fruits. She avoided warm liquids. A night by firelight lent itself to finger foods and things that could be nibbled. And well, as for the fruits and vegetables? Nothing here would taste as good as Syka’s assortment… so she stuck to things that were harder to get in the tropics.

When they were done gathering food, Taz looked around. “The Khamsin Inn will rent us a nice place.” She said thoughtfully. Then she started off, walking in the direction of the Inn. It was on the other side of The Outpost nestled near the far wall of the Open Sky Bazaar. They’d have to pass through a goodly portion of the bazaar to get there. The Sykan set a steady pace, entered the market, and began weaving down the markets side streets and alleyways, often nodding at vendors or stopping a moment to ponder over some selection of something or another in one of the sales booths.

They seemed to head through a dry-goods section, pass out of that and into a more clothing and apparel orientated section. Then, further in, they wandered through a section of Health and Beauty Products. That section ended near a livestock market, and further down… slaves were being sold. Taz could hear an auction from where she turned a corner and paused. She looked around, frowning, and listened to the slavers describing the wares. There was a selection of desert folk in this group… and Taz stopped to study them intently. She heard the words called out… Benshira… from a tribe she didn’t recognize, and sadness filled her. This was wrong… especially wrong when she noted that most of the people up for auction were older, worn, and had eyes that spoke of having given up. They would be nothing more than servants... and her heart broke for them.

She paused at the edge of the auction, reading something that was posted. Her sadness turned to rage when she saw that Kois were being auctioned the next day late morning. The Innkeeper vowed then and there to return and pull a person… anyone she could… from this sort of life which was no life at all.

Taz moved again, walking past the auction took all her concentration. Her hand flexed, wanting to will Sweet Refrain into her hands. This was not a place to start a fight though. This was not a war she could win. Commerce in the Goddess of Commerce’s realm wasn’t something unwelcome, even if Tazrae didn’t agree with it. And though it was wrenching her heart, she said nothing to Lance about it. Her outward appearance was just curious, with all the rage she felt inside banked. The Kois had been through enough…. more than enough.

And seeing that auction… knowing that her people were back in the cages somewhere behind the auction dais formulated something in her mind that became firm. The seerer that had read her fortune and told her what she was going to become to her people hadn’t said this was the path… but suddenly it was as clear as day what Tazrae was going to do. The Benshira needed a safehouse here, something big enough that families could shelter here without the fear of slavery until travel could be arranged to get them to Syka. It would take more than an apartment like the Tangerine and Teal had been. It would take something far larger… a Riad. Plans started to form in Tazrae’s mind as the duo walked on, turning the last corner that brought them to the front of the Khamsin Inn.

Pashina was manning the desk and Tazrae nodded to the woman when they walked through the decorative doorway. Pausing at the desk, Taz glanced up at the room rates and glanced over at Lance. “What do you have available for one night that has a nice fireplace, a comfortable couch, and two beds.” Taz said, deciding that’s what they really wanted. She wanted to be sure they could have a place to sleep if the hour grew late… or rather early and sleep took over.

The lovely Eth reached up, stroked her horns, and studied Tazrae a moment. “I’ve got a lovely corner room that’s exactly as you described. It’s 4 gm a day.” She added. “I can have fresh towels delivered. And if you require bathing, there’s a cistern on the roof that’s been heating all day. It can service most of the Inn so I’m sure there’s plenty of hot water for a couple of baths.” She added. “I can throw in soaps and shampoos if you need them.” The woman added.

Taz nodded, dug into her pocket, and pulled out the necessary coin. “Towels and soap would be great. And lots of extra firewood.” For the woman’s trouble, Taz slipped another gold miza on the counter to ensure they weren’t disturbed after the extras were dropped off. Truth was, she wouldn’t mind a bath. The slave market they’d inadvertently wandered through had left her feeling dirty.

Turning to Lance, she handed him one of the two keys Pashina passed her and gestured for him to lead the way. She’d wait to ask him her question, since he had forfeited his turn with the parroted question, and would wait until they settled in the room. The woman behind the counter pointed out the direction their room was – over in the far corner of the stone fortress. Taz was glad they were finally getting somewhere that she could kick off her sandals and put her feet up. She needed…. time… she decided… to figure out what to do for the Kois.

Words: 1817

[Lance Windhelm]

Tazrae explained how she grew up with Svefra crashing their parties, the Tenday celebrations. He wasn’t surprised at this. The Svefra were a traveling people that lived off the ocean, with the ocean, they moved around so often that Lance found himself having to find new friends almost seasonally. It hurt his young soul but at his age now he could understand. It was just their way of life. Their identity.

Lance put a hand to his forehead. He had forgotten that there were rules. The whole game seemed to turn into a normal conversation. It was just reflex to ask the same question back, especially one that was so personal. Their earliest memory. Now he had forfeited his next question and waited for hers.

“Sorry.” He said. A painful look painted itself across his face.

He searched around the square for food, but when he saw the other venders he couldn’t help but stop and look at some of the clothes. Shirts made of silks, colorful cloaks, and pants. He needed to find himself some clothes, but decided to note where he found them so he could come back. The only other thing he’d need was a fancier looking sword. His longsword was bulky and weighed heavy on his weapons harness. He was looking for a different sword, something a little more elegant, and maybe not as heavy. The word, “Sleek” came to mind. He hoped he could afford the things.

Lance grabbed a few pieces of the bread and chicken, covered in a spicy red powder, and brought them back with him, holding them in both his hands. They walked through section of the bazaar, full of different smells and people. Some he had never seen before. Then they came to a section where they were selling livestock, and further on where they were selling… humans. Slaves. Lance was sad at the thought. Looking at the people, bound and sold. Taken from their families and lands. They would most likely do manual labor of some kind, unless they were lucky enough to have some kind of skill that made them worth more. The selling of human flesh bothered him.

Lance kept his head low. Maybe a reaction from Sunberth, or maybe it was embarrassment to be seen at all in the area. He almost bumped into Tazraa when she stopped. He noticed her face, he couldn’t read her expression that well, concern? Curiosity? Both expressions usually caused a scrunch in the brow and maybe a shift of the lips. It was best to just ask.

“Are you ok?” He asked, not liking the situation any more than she did, but there was nothing he could do.

They continued to walk till they got to the Khamsin Inn. Like everything else it was an building designed with beauty and ease in mind. They came through the doorway and Lance could hear music being played. He could sense another bard in the other room, a violin playing a sad tone as another man told a story. It seemed to be coming together flawlessly.

When Lance looked at the Innkeeper he had to blink a couple times. Horns where coming out of her head. He tried not to stare, but as the Innkeeper touched them it was hard not to watch her hand move their length. He looked at her couriusly, but only for a moment, then tried to look in a different direction, towards the music. The whole transaction didn’t take long. Baths and firewood. The clanging of a few coins ended it and Lance looked back just in time for Taz to hand him one of the keys. He pushed one of the sandwiches to the other hand, grabbed the key, and watched the… woman from behind the desk point out where their room was located.

Lance and Taz walked through a large court yard. Bards played music and told stories. Some patrons sat at the tables and drank, talking amongst themselves. A fountain buzzed in the center of the court yard, lance could smell the water as it flowed. Rooms lined the court yard, theirs was the one in the far corner. It had a heavy wooden door with an elegant handle.

He pushed the key into the door of their room and opened it up to a spacious area. A couch was sitting against the far wall, looking towards a hearth on the across from it. Two beds were made, large and small pillows on the ends, soft blankets made of fabric Lance couldn’t place. A stack of firewood sat next to the fireplace. The pieces of wood were free of dirt or bugs. Lance put the sandwiches down on a wooden table and looked toward Taz.

He would try and see if there was anything he could grab and set down or put away. If there was food he could set next to the cough, so they could snack and talk. He remembered the book she spoke of earlier and wondered where she kept it. Lance was exited to thumb through it and see what kind of magics existed in this huge world he apparently knew very little about.

“So, you have another question for me, or is the game over?” He asked with a smirk.

As they settled into their home for the night, Lance dropped his back next to one of the beds, took his sword and dagger off and leaned it next to it, and removed his high boots from his feet. He fought the temptation to throw himself on the couch or bed like he would if he was a child. Instead he stacked the wood in the fireplace, making a small teepee with a window in the side to light it.

“I’ll leaving the leave the fire starting to you.” He said with a smile, knowing she could do it in a flash of her hand.

WC: 985