Chapter 11
The Har’Gof of Soeur Margeurite Carrefour du Quais
The yellow-tinted images of the low traffic streets of Twilight Run shown through the crystal ceiling of the observatory atop of Iqrotarus Tower. It hadn't taken long for Roddick-Tem to ascertain the nature of the large crystalline structure. It was a scry glass; a watchtower as it were. It gave live coverage of the streets of Twilight Run, including the courtyard of Autumnburn estate.
Roddick stood on the platform, which a day earlier served as the attack station of the inexperienced Wizard. Roddick stared at the ceiling as images rolled across his glowing blue eyes. It didn't seem thus far that the New Clade had noticed the sudden change in management in the central tower. For now, they had peace. They had time.
Roddick's task: observe the rounds of guards stationed throughout the city. A task less simple than it seemed. The shop keeper, Mason, was not kidding about the inebriation. It was rare to see any of the bored stationed guards sober. The guards shared with themselves some sort of tincture that the scrying dome was ill suited to capture. It looked blue from a distance.
Best as he could, Roddick made mental notes of the rounds, and approximations of the intended rounds.
Sister Margaret moved her hand up and down an old bookshelf, shifting her head to peer between, over, and under books, pulling a couple out, then replacing with a frustrated grunt, before moving on to the next bookshelf. Da'La sat in a nearby reading nook, watching the Reflection Pool from a distance as her charge frantically made her way through every shelf.
"What are you doing?" It was Star, walking out of the entrance stairway to the fourth floor, the Library of Iqrotarus Tower, holding in his hand a large cabbage that was mostly green.
Maggie turned her head for a moment, "Where'd you get that?" she called before returning to her obviously important work.
"Third Floor has converted to a mess hall and food storage." Star said, looking on as the Firebrand priestess in the green plain dress caressed her hand up and down a nook wall bookshelf. "Too bad really, kind of liked the creepy pond with the weird physics." Star said, trailing off at the end as he followed Maggie with his eyes.
"Oh, thank the 20 and 4!" Maggie said, "Whip me up something, will you? I'm starving." Maggie placed he hand her stomach for a moment, not pausing her current task.
"Make your own food. I don't cook." Star said, holding out the cabbage head.
"And I do?" Maggie called, making her way to another bookshelf, "I was recruited to be a Ypfhar when I was 6! I've had cooks most of my life. Before that…" Maggie paused for a second, zoning out while staring at the bookshelf, "Well, I don't know how to cook anyway." Maggie snapped back.
Star turned his attention to Da'La. "Sorry," Da'La smiled weakly, "Nozhing in my training covered chef duties. To be honest, I burn vater.”
"Well… That is a problem…" Star said, putting the cabbage under his tentacles, grasping on to it as the green slowly wilted to brown. "What are you doing?" Roddick asked in an accusatory tone, turning his head to Maggie, who was still searching through the bookshelf.
"I'm looking for a secret entrance." Maggie said, mindlessly as she groped the bookshelf.
Star laughed, "No really. What are you doing?" Star walked toward the nook Maggie currently was moving through.
"Really." Maggie stopped to turn to the Xericoz Lawman, whose grey coral eyes gave her a bemused look. "It's a Magic Library in a Wizard's Tower, Star." She gave a look as if this should be obvious, "There has to be a secret room in here, it's like a law."
"You've read too many Frad Batoul novels." Star said, sitting down on a chair in the nook.
"Skeptic!" Maggie accused, "You'd think you'd learn to trust me by now."
The room went silent, the sound of shuffling papers and moving books taking over.
"You were brave yesterday… with Tailus." Star broke the silence, Maggie stopped, a book hit the floor.
"I was useless." Maggie said, staring at the empty space where the book was.
Star picked up the book, handing it to her. "You were brave. Even without your power you still fought on."
"And did nothing." Maggie said, teeth clenching, "Roddick killed both of the creatures with a wave of his hand while we fumbled around… because I was out of juice." Maggie returned to searching.
"I'm just saying," Star leaned his arm against a metallic skull on the bookshelf, "That it took a lot of gu--" CLICK.
The skull gave way, pulling up from a hidden lever, and the bookshelf in front of Maggie swung ajar.
"I knew it!" Maggie exclaimed her face beaming with pride. She grabbed the edge of the bookshelf. She pulled, gritting her teeth, "Little help?" Maggie called.
Da'La and Star came in behind her, gripping the bookshelf. It was heavier than it looked. They pulled and, as if coming unstuck, it swung wide open. With quick thinking Maggie jumped on to a nearby bookshelf ladder that rolled her away from the ajar shelf, which crashed against another bookshelf.
A blue light, starting from the entrance, cascaded along filigree on the floor into the new room, lighting it. The filigree covered floor was a smooth dark stone, that was hard to make out because the light, while bright enough to illuminate the room, didn’t land in the spaces between the filigree. It looked roughly like polished basalt. The room was shaped like a half moon with a curved back wall which was, like the library, covered in bookshelves and cubbys, with ladders meant for an obviously smaller person strategically placed along them. Unlike the library, the bookshelves were littered not with books and scrolls, but bags, bins, herbs, crystals, and errant materials.
Two tables that came to knee height, one along the back left wall, and one to the left of the entrance, held extra materials, and organized sets of tools many of which none of the group recognized. The back table, which against it stood two stools, one small stool and another larger stool, was squat and sturdy, with drawers along the left legs and one long drawer under the flat of the table. On the side of the table was attached to a suspension stand that held a series of flip out lenses each about the size of a magnifying glass, the structure currently folded down.
Maggie stepped into the room, examining the bookshelf along the back wall. Picking up a green crystal and tilting it in her hands.
"What is this place?" Star asked as he moved into the room, followed by Da'La.
"Can't be sure…" Maggie said, mindlessly looking through the material, "Maybe a magical ingredients storage?"
"A what now?" Star asked.
"Storage for materials zhat deal vith spells," Da'La said, staying near the door. "Vizards use all zorts of components in zhe crafting of zheir art. Makes sense zhat a Vizard of high repute may vish for a deep storage."
"Still though," Maggie said, setting a crystal back, "Would have been better to have discovered treasure…"
"Treasure?" Star gave off a half chuckle, moving his hand over a set of papers that rest on one of the tables.
Maggie moved toward the door, "Yeah! Y'know, like in the books? Wizard hoards a large treasure in a secret room, the hero finds it and uses it all up before the next adventure!" Her voice elated into a romantic whimsey.
Star looked over from the papers, he couldn't make heads or tails of them anyway. Something was off, Maggie's voice and her heart weren't matching. He followed her back to the Library. "I think Roddick would want to know about this. Quite the treasure for him."
"Not for us mere mortals though…" Maggie gave a contemptuous sigh, then plopped onto a chair near the door.
She was lying. Star couldn't figure out about what, or why, but she was lying.
"I'll go tell him," his voice betrayed suspicion, but for the moment letting it go, he walked toward the door leading to the observatory room.
"When you do, ask him if he can whip up some grub." Maggie said, grabbing a nearby book, "I'm starving…"
Star imagined the reaction from Roddick and let out a chuckle, "Will do." Star opened the door to the stairwell and moved through.
Maggie craned her neck to listen and once out of earshot she whispered to her Dek'Har, "Ok!" She leapt out of her chair and ran back into the room, "What I need is a set of candles, eucalyptus, ayahuasca, mint, and some wine…." She said quickly, looking through the shelves.
Da'La followed back into the materials room, "You knew zhis vas here." She said, matter-of-factly.
"Noticed some notes when I went back to the second floor earlier today, kind of a grocery list, it noted many of the ingredients were on this floor. I made a guess." Maggie said grabbing candles, "Oh, and hot water, that's a must."
"So, all zhat business about finding a secret room?" Da'La asked, beginning to grab ingredients.
"I didn't want an argument from Star." Maggie confessed, "He might think it was dangerous."
"Vhat vas dangerous?" Da'La asked drawing out the question, she turned to her charge with concern.
"I'm going to perform the Har'Gof." Maggie announced, setting ingredients down on the floor, arranging candles.
"Zhe vhat!?" Da'La dropped what she was grabbing and moved toward Maggie. "Ve need ozher Ypfhar’s around for such a thing!" Da'La protested.
"I have you." Maggie said, "Besides, I've read about this ritual countless times."
"And have you read about zhe Ypfhars zhat died during zhier first Har'Gof?" Da'La demanded, intercepting Maggie as she moved toward the bookshelf.
Maggie smiled, "Look, I understand your concern, but I need to do this." She eased her voice toward the worried dancer.
"Vhy?" Da'La quietly blurted, the worry etched over her face.
"Yesterday…” Maggie closed her emerald eyes and took a breath, “…I was useless, Da'La." Maggie opened her eyes to look into Da'La's eyes.
"You veren't, The Stryzaga…"
"Roddick."
"Zhe Golems."
"Star." Maggie came back again, "Then Roddick basically ran the show yesterday when it came to the Wizard, not to mention you having to save my butt on the chasm." Maggie's green eyes connected with the backlit yellow eyes of Da'La. "I exhausted myself, Da’La.” She said, her voice defeated, “and I still wasn't a help."
"You healed vounds, you held back--" Da'La began, compassion bleeding through her voice.
"I stalled," Maggie said sternly, "And this was probably the easiest Leiutenant in this
ville abandonnée des dieux.” Maggie tightened her firsts, looking downward, she continued in a whisper “That… Tailus guy was just an apprentice. There are three other lieutenants! Plus, whatever Xinor is!" Tears began to well in Maggie's eyes, "You might not mind watching after me but if this continues to escalate I'm going to become a drag on the rest of you.” Her voice trailed, tears dropping down her pale freckled cheeks. She recollected, “I can't do that Da'La!" She brushed passed her Dek'Har, moving toward the shelf, "I won't!"
Da'La stood silent for a moment, she felt cold. The sound of rustling bags and tinging glasses were the only things that broke the silence. Da’La turned her head toward her charge. Da’La sighed, "You're missing an ingredient." She informed.
"What?" Maggie stopped genuinely taken aback. Maggie turned toward her Dek'Har. "I've read every Har'Gof. Multiple times. I know every ingredient." Maggie insisted.
"Zhis vone isn't recorded." Da'La informed. "And it's not here."
"What is it?" Maggie approached her Dek'Har speaking in a hushed conspiratorial voice.
"Fvlequarium Syrup." Da'La said, solemnly, "Known normally as Fvleq."
Maggie's heart sank. Images of cold shakes, dry heaves, and broken addicts filled her head. Bleeding eyes, wilting cheeks, people selling their homes for just one more hit; ignoring their jobs, their obligations… their daughter…
"How do you know?" She asked, weakly.
"I've attended a Haf'Gor before." Da'La said. "It requires a staggering amount. Enough zhat if not carefully applied vould kill zhe subject outright."
A pregnant pause filled the room, Maggie looked at the ingredients in her hand, her heart breaking. Her throat dry, she looked up, "Then how do we… get some?" Her voice while quiet, slammed through the room like a tossed brick.
Da'La spinned, "You realize vhat you're asking me to do, right?" Her face looked ghastly, staring at her charge. "Vone slip up, you're dead.” She said in a screamed whisper, “Not to say of zhe risk of addiction." Her voice had a bite to it now that Maggie had never heard. An anger behind the vertical slit of the dancing Dek’Har’s yellow eyes.
"Please Da’La” Maggie whispered as she cast her head down toward the floor. “I can’t be useless.” She sobbed, then looked up to lock her eyes with Da’La’s, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Another pause as their eyes locked with each other. Da'La watched the conviction steel into the Emerald eyes of the firebrand Ypfhar. So full of potential, grace, and youthful stupidity. It was a risk, a major risk. But Da’La knew that looked. The look of someone willing to give up everything to be something more.
Da'La scanned the room for a moment, then with a sigh, she concede: "Zhe ingredients for a rough approximation are here, I vill give you a list to gazher…" she conceded.
Star crested the top step of the white marble observatory room at the top of Iqrotarus tower. In the center, standing on the platform where just a day ago the junior Wizard taunted them with mist beasts now stood Roddick-Tem. This was the first time Star had seen him without his coat, only his black waistcoat, white button up shirt with grey trousers and perfectly polished boots. Still though, the wizard was perfectly, even meticulously, tidy. His hair was perfectly slicked back and even his five o’clock shadow had the presentation as if it were perfectly intended. The Wizard stood on the platform, his hand on the half banister and as he stared at the ceiling.
Star moved alongside the platform and likewise stared up. The effect was like a kaleidoscope, streets merging into building at off angles and colors. Star closed his eyes and rubbed them.
"What does this thing do again?" Star asked.
"It gives a live feed of the town from a bird's eye view." Roddick said, distractedly looking at the crystal in the ceiling. He sighed, “It’s like a living map.”
"Looks like a mess to me." Star pulled out a cigarillo from his case that he had removed from his coat, attaching it to a stem.
"Yeah, well, you get used to it." Roddick pulled his attention away. "Can I help you?"
"Maggie and Da'La found a magical ingredients room." Star explained.
"A Materials room? Smashing! I should look through it…" Roddick said rubbing his eyes.
"Also, they both told me to ask you for some food." Star said, his voice teasing.
"Did they? Well if that is the case, why don't they make something?" Roddick stepped down from the platform. "It's not like I have other important things to be doing, like tracking the movement of the bloody army we are waging a 4-man war against." The sarcasm bit the air from his chipper voice.
"They say they can't cook…" Star lit his cigarillo, taking in the sweet smoke.
Roddick let out an exasperated sigh, "Best get to it then!” Roddick said, stepping down the final step.
“What?” Star nearly dropped his cigarillo.
“Well, if the ladies, are in want and can’t be bothered to scrounge up food, we must come to the rescue,” Roddick said, “we'll take the fast way." Roddick walked toward the wall opposite of the stairs.
"The… fast way?" Star followed. Roddick reached the white marble wall opposite of the stairs.
"Yes, quite. These towers are often filled with hidden rooms and passages, butlers escapes and such." Roddick said, as he traced his hand along the back wall, filigree sparking to life, glowing a light blue in the shape of a door and, with a click and a grind of stone on stone, a door sized slice of the wall receded. "Discovered this last night when I woke up starving for a midnight snack…"
"So, Maggie wasn't just being cute when she was talking about hidden passages…" Star commented, following the Wizard to a dark stairwell that lit up through blue filigree along the ceiling to reveal a set of wooden steps that followed the outer curve of the tower. "How does the tower fit all of this?"
"The tower doesn't conform to the shape of the outside, exactly…" Roddick explained as he made his way down, "Rather it… kind of molds to shape the needs of its owner. This magic, you see, It changes things."
"So, it could turn any room to whatever you want?" Star asked, eyes taking in the strange stairwell.
"Well, not me! And within reason. A whole city couldn't spring up inside these walls! But rooms can appear where apparently they shouldn't… if the owner desires." Roddick explained.
"Why not you?" Star asked.
"Well, I'm not the owner of this tower." Roddick said his voice raising a tempo as he stopped at the landing halfway down the steps. He began running his hand against the wall. "Rather, the tower and I have come to an understanding. I don't threaten it like Tailus did, and it allows us in its halls."
"You keep talking like it's alive." Star said.
"I explained yesterday, it is alive." Roddick said as a door-like frame popped out of the wall and receded. "Well, as alive as Tem."
Roddick walked through the opening into a room lit brightly by white filigree on the ceiling. The room was white and shaped like a crescent moon. A large hearth sat on the internal curve of the crescent, with a cast iron rack and spit nestled over the wood of the fire, which lit up as they walked in. lining the wall around it were sets of copper pots and pans hung orderly from pegs and racks along the wall. The outer wall was line with shelves carrying cooking supplies in bins, bags, and boxes, all labeled carefully and meticulously put in order. A door sat along the inner wall to the right where the crescent touched, and on the opposing side was a large black wood burning oven, which piped through the outer wall. In the middle, a large black island, with shelves for utensils and ranges on the top. Closer to them a sturdy wooden prep table with a thick top that had lines cut into it from years of knife work. A set of stools flanked the sides of the prep table, along with one magenta stuffed lounging chair with a matching footrest, that looked like it was for a user no more that four feet tall.
Roddick moved toward the range, grabbing an apron from the back wall, and with one swift motion dawned it and adjusting it on his body. "Apologies, the meal is going to be fairly basic; I am at a dearth of actual ingredients."
"I don't eat cooked food…" Star followed, "You know how to cook?"
"Well, I cooked the Gnome in the faerie wood, remember?" Roddick grabbed a copper pan, and began to grab ingredients from the shelf, "My eighth host was a star cook in Triasq… Tarmel-Tem…" Roddick stared out nostalgically. "That was quite the life." He said with a smile as he grabbed a chef’s knife and began to hone it on a leather strap.
Da'La stared at the beaker clasped above the burner she had set up on the worktable. In her hand she clasped a vial, watching the muddy brown liquid as it began to boil. She took a pipette then squeezed three drops into the liquid, and the color changed to a murky orange.
"How do you know how to do this?" It was Maggie, her voice somewhere between mesmerized and accusatory. Maggie sat in a nearby wooden stool; her legs swung under it to prop up against the back bar. She was watching her Dek'Har concoct drugs like an experienced alchemist.
"I vas not alvays a Dek'Har..." Da'La answered distantly, not tearing her eyes from her project.
"That's what we tell Star when he asks inconvenient questions." Maggie came back, "I'm not Star, I'm your Ypfhar." Maggie insisted.
"Are you ordering me to answer?" Da'La asked, her eyes not breaking from the vial.
"I'm asking." Maggie assured, "As your confidant."
Da'La sighed. "Zhere vas not a lot of prospect for a young Cy'Shyk growing up in zhe canals of Zhe Meril Cove." Da'La explained her voice lowering. "I fell into wrong groups. Cohorted vith unsavory elements. Learned skills I ought not ave learned to feed habit I ought not have." Da'La's eyes glazed over as she spoke, as if remembering times not all together better than the ones she was in now.
Maggie remained silent, staring at the Blade Dancer who, disarmed, told her story.
"Life vas hard, back zhen. Any distraction from zhe tedium and crushing reality vas a velcome one." Da'La continued, "Zhat of course, vas until I discovered a better path…" Da'La picked up the beaker, holding it with her claws by its mouth away from the scorch marks of the fire. With the other hand, while speaking a small incantation, she touched the side of the hot beaker and a spark lit from her finger through the beaker and rippled through the liquid inside. The liquid cascaded into a deep, near luminescent red, like a glittery syrup made of blood. "Zhere… It is crude, but it vorks zhe same purpose."
"Are you sure?" Maggie asked, staring at the concoction.
"… Yes." Da'La confessed, grabbing a mesh strainer and a glass, to which she filtered the final concoction through. "Zho it must be drunk vhile varm." Da'La explained, "Once cooled it vill break and become an inert poison."
Maggie's heart pounded through her chest, as she stared at the glass of newly created Fvleq. Her nerve endings came alive in a sort of fight-or-flight response. Every part of her yearned to stop this here. This was too much. A million things could go wrong, especially when you included that vile substance.
"Ok," Maggie said, she couldn’t believe her ears. Almost as if compelled by some other force she began to move toward the circle of candles she had set up during the brewing. She tried to steady her breath, "Let's begin…"
"You know, you are the absolute worst sous chef I've ever had." Roddick said, as he pulled a large piece of onion out of the pan he was jittering over the fire on the range.
"I don't normally prepare food." Star justified himself, looking at the large chunk of onion in the Wizard's hand. The Wizard thoughtlessly cast it aside and it landed on the Prep table, where the chef knife lifted into the air and began to hone itself on a leather strap dangling from the table.
"Well, I guess you wouldn't, would you?" Roddick said, as he eyed his concoction of eggs, onions, and other bits of ingredients that he could find. It looked pleasing to the eye, so far as Star could tell. Whether it was good to eat was a matter of theory to him. No life force in the meal.
"So, why are you doing this?" Star asked, picking up a small jar of red dust on the table.
"To eat, of course!" Roddick smirked, jostling the pan, letting the ingredients shuffle, "You know, I still need sustenance?"
"No," Star set down the jar, then leaned against the cool part of the range, "Why are you cooking for Maggie and Da'La? Maggie hates you."
"I've gone this long without holding a grudge, Star," Roddick said, grabbing a small jar off the prep table and popping the cork, "be a bit awkward if I started now."
"How old are you?" Star asked.
"This body? 25… more or less." Roddick grabbed some wilted herbs and began to season the dish.
Star shook off the evasion. "Forgive me, but may I ask?" Star began, "You seem awfully chipper for a man who just found out yesterday lost his longtime friend."
Roddick's smile wasn't flapped, "Tell you the truth, I wasn't thinking about it until now." Roddick took the pan off the heat.
"I'm sor--"
"No, it's fine." Roddick tasted his creation, and made a few adjustments, "It had been a long time since I'd seen young Hartliff. He communicated though, by letter of course, which I returned when I could, but I am not the woman he knew me as."
"Woman?" Star looked at Roddick, puzzled.
"Jensa-Tem." Roddick returned, as he began to separate his egg meal on to two plates. "That was who I was when I taught magic… so many years ago…" Roddick became lost for a moment, and with a snap back. "The circumstances were unfortunate, and retrieving his body for a burial when it's safe will be of upmost import, but the death?” Roddick gave a slight hrm, then came back his voice suddenly somber: “Everyone I've known has died, Mr. Star. So was with him, a thousand before him, and so will be with you." Roddick made a few more presentational adjustments on the plates as he spoke, grabbing utensils and placing them gingerly on one of the plates.
"That sounds lonely." Star came back, suddenly feeling sorry for the Wizard.
Roddick only smiled, grabbing the plate, and handing it to the gazing Star. "Now, before it gets cold, go and deliver this to the girls."
Star stepped into the Library, holding a warm plate of fresh cooked eggs, and looked across the Reflection Pool over to Da'La, who stood at watch in front of the ajar bookcase that served as the secret entrance to the Materials room. Star felt her emotions through the air. Something was gravely wrong.
Star dropped the plate and rushed over.
"What are you doing?" He demanded.
Da'La looked over, curious. "I have no idea vhat I am being accused of---"
"Guilt," Star said, as he crested around the Reflection Pool, "It's dripping from you, and Maggie-…" He looked behind Da'La to see the firebrand priestess, sitting cross-legged in a meditation pose in a circle of what had to be at least 20 candles. "What's coming off of her…” Star turned his eyes angrily to the at watch dancer, “What have you done?" He demanded again, narrowing his eyes to Da'La.
Da'La met his gaze, craning her neck to confront Star, "Ma Soeur is undertaking zhe Haf'Gor. It a sacred--"
"Then why do you feel guilty?" Star demanded.
"I'm not guilty, I'm concerned." Da'La snapped, "Not zhat it's any of your busin--"
"She's my friend as much as yours." Star said, moving toward the entrance to the Materials room, Da'La grabbed his shirt.
"She is my charge." She said in a half-warning voice.
"What. Did. You. Do?" The echoing voice in the back of Da'La's head growled as his eyes turned to her. His patience was snapped.
Da'La maintained a cool composure even as the tempest roared in her brain, "Zhe Har'Gof requires… dangerous materials."
"Such as?"
"Such as Fvleq." Da'La said after a moment, "A lot of it."
"You pumped Maggie full of drugs?" Star tore out of her grip. Da'La looked Star in the eyes, losing her defiance. She couldn't tell him that she had done more than that, that she had made the drugs for her. A rock sunk on the bottom of her stomach.
Star moved into the room quickly, "Maybe we can get her to Mema Hadwick…"
"No!" Da'La moved after him, "If she's moved it vill break zhe trance and she'll go into zhe shudders!"
"You pumped her full of enough drugs that it would be dangerous!?" Star wheeled around, staring right into Da'La eyes, narrowing his own. "What in the 20 and 4 fuck, Da'La?" His tentacles trembled as the echoey voice in Da'La's head swelled to a fury.
Da'La yelled back, "I don't believe you understand zhe nature of my relationship to Ma Soeur!" She narrowed her eyes, "I am not just her protector! I am her servant! Bound by my oath! If she needs my help conducting a ritual, which by zhe vay is zhe most sacred--"
"Bullshit." Star interrupted in his fury. "She looks up to you, Da'La. She idolizes you! You're her role model!" Star trembled in anger. "If you had the slightest reservation, it was your duty to talk her down. She would have listened!"
Da'La stood still, her body growing cold, summoning all her effort she maintained her composure.
"Come get me when it's over." Star said in a quiet anger, brushing past Da'La toward the exit. "At least if she dies we ca bury her next to Hartliff…" Star spit.
Da’La watched the Xericoz gumshoe, her friend, walk away. "Star…" Da'La turned, moving after him. But Star didn't respond, he stormed through the Library, and opened the door outside of which where a hapless Roddick stood, curiously looking at the angry Xericoz. Star brushed passed Roddick wordlessly, and made his way down the stairs.
Roddick stepped into the Library, seeing the broken plate and the scattered food, and looking passed the rows of shelves and the Reflection Pool to the ajar book case, where Da'La stood looking toward the door.
Unperturbed, Roddick gave a boyish smile, "Is that the Material room I've heard about?" He tried.
Da'La shut the bookcase.
Da'La paced the Materials room up and down, turning from time to time to look at her charge. Maggie was still deep in her drug induced trance. Maggie seemed relatively peaceful, sat upright between the 20 and 4 candles lit around her. Maggie, her eyes closed sat still in a cross-legged position, her hands rested at her knees. Despite the stillness and relative peace of Maggie, Da'La's heart throbbed staring at her Ypfhar. Doubt creeped into the back of her mind as she cast her mind to the argument with Star. She ran her hand through her Rainbow colored poof at the top of her head.
Was he right? Had she in fulfilling her duty as a Dek'Har neglected her duty as a role model? Her mind raced. Did she kill Maggie?
Maggie leaned forward and dumped the contents of her stomach on to the floor. The hurl spun Da'La's attention, as she rushed to Maggie, who hands on the ground continued to heave an inky reddish substance over the filigree pattern on the dark grey ground.
"Ma Soeur!" She spoke in a panic, reaching to place her hand on Maggie’s arm.
"Don't touch me!" Maggie barked angrily, then dry heaved. Da'La knelt at attention, retracting her hand, as Maggie lifted her own left hand to cover her vomiting. Maggie shuddered, heaving in air as she could. "Well?" Maggie looked up at her Dek'Har, "What are you doing?" She barked, "Get me water and soap! Hot!" Maggie's eyes were no longer the gentle emeralds. They glowed gold, with white pits that shown like bright lamps into the darkness. They pierced into Da'La as Da’La shot to her feet and grabbed the bucket of water she had prepared.
Da'La ran her hand across the side of the bucket, and steam began to rise from the water. Grasping the bucket in one hand, and a set of soap laid out beforehand in the other, she moved to Maggie who was still on her hands and knees, heaving red stained bile on to the floor.
"It just doesn't stop!" Maggie whined, preparing for another round.
"Hey…" Da'La knelt with the bucket. "It's ok. Zhis is perfectly normal." Da’La said in a quiet, reassuring tone. She smiled in joy to see her Ypfhar, who was, if not ok, was at least not dead. Maggie looked up, red tears streaming from her golden eyes as she stared at her Dek'Har. "You took a lot of Fvleq… Zhis vill pass, I promise."
Maggie's golden shining eyes narrowed on her Dek'Har, and with sweat mopping on her forehead, she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing, "You think I'm going to be taking the advice from some old junkie?"
Da'La went cold, the warm smile disappearing from her face as the bite from Maggie sunk in.
Margaret stood, removing her red stained dress, and dumping it on the floor. Now naked, she then grabbed the hot bucket and soap and moved to the worktable, away from her mess. "You're my Dek'Har, Da'La.” Her voice, now not filled with heaving, took on a cold and flat tone. “That means servant of the speaker, in case you forgot." Margaret set down the bucket, and then unceremoniously dunked her hands in the hot water, the heat turning her pale skin red. She began to scrub with the soap.
"Oui, Ma Soeur…" Da'La said quietly, bending her head, her heart sinking at the sudden biting words of her Ypfhar.
"Clean that up." Margaret ordered, paying close attention to the scrubbing of her hands. Her voice cold, dismissive. Not a whisper of the gentleness of her normal self. "And burn the dress. Have Roddick find new clothes for me. I cannot be walking around like this."
Da’La entered the Third floor of the tower in a daze, peering around the room for another bucket. The bucket Ma Soeur was using was unavailable, being dedicated solely to the continuous bathing of Sister Margaret. Da'La searched around the room containing barrels and boxes on a stone floor. The room was half the size Da'La would have expected if in that moment she could be expected to care. For now, it was a vaguely circular storage room, in which she attempted to look for a bucket to be used for mopping.
Star, sat on a box, smoking a cigarillo, pretending to not have interest in the Cy'Shyk Dek'Har who was ignoring him on her quest for a bucket. Da'La shuffled around boxes and barrels, moving errant items out of the way.
"Is Maggie ok?" Star broke the silence, the anger in his voice having given way to general concern.
"Ma Soeur is out of her trance." Da'La answered, not turning to the smoking Star, who finally had turned his head to her. "She is fine, but zhe room needs cleaning." Da'La answered her voice trailing, "For zhat I need a bucket and a mop…"
Star looked at Da'La. The nervousness in his normally stoic companion piqued his own. Star pointed toward a box against the far wall, "Behind there is some cleaning supplies." He informed, his voice flat and informative to mask his own concern. He had come across them earlier when he was looking for food.
Da'La moved behind the crate, focusing her eyes on a small wooden bucket with filligree that moved along its outside edge, and a mop nestled next to it. She gathered them in her arms and began to move toward the door.
Star hopped from the box he sat on, making move to follow Da'La, "I'd like to see her--"
"No!" Da'La yawped, her voice betraying more desperation than intended. Star stopped, curiously looking at the back of the coat of the perturbed Dek'Har. She composed herself, "Ma Soeur is… indecent." Da'La explained. "Her clothes vere stained after expelling zhe… concoction."
Star thought about biting at that word. He reconsidered.
"Vor now, it vould be best to ask Roddick if zhere is an extra set of clothes around." Da'La explained, opening the door toward the stairwell. "Please," she added humbly.
Star could feel the humbling guilt coming from Da'La, who still refused to turn to him. Refused to look him in the eye. Star nodded, "Ok." He said quietly and Da'La disappeared up the steps.
Star once again crested the marble stairs leading to the observation room at the top of Iqrotarus tower. Across the way, on the far side of the room, Roddick was turning his coat over his body, and putting it on.
"Ah, glad you're here!" Roddick checked his cuff links, then moving toward the semicircle open steps that Star stood at the top of. "We need to go to the parlor!"
"What?" Star asked, as Roddick brushed passed him in double pace. "What's going on?"
"Well, you know how I've been keeping up with the movements of the New Clade guard in town?" Roddick said, as he began to trot down the stairs, "Well, they are.” Roddick said, then added: “Moving."
"Ok?" Star followed Roddick down the stairs, still not sure of what the Wizard was going on about.
"To here, Star." Roddick said, exasperated, as he trotted down the stairs, checking the magenta crystal on the back of his right hand.
"Are you sure?" Star asked, pulling at his pepperbox.
"No, I wildly guessed, turns out I've just been playing wall ball in the observatory-- of course I'm sure!" Roddick double paced and reached the door to the library. He opened it and made his way through.
Star followed quickly, only stopping to yell toward the secret door, "Maggie! Da'La! We have company!" He didn't stop for a response, only speeding up to catch up to the speed walking Wizard. "Why are they coming?"
"Oh, it's about four o'clock! Probably for tea, pop in with the biscuits, it should be lovely!" Roddick bit, his glimmering blue eyes peered forward as he moved down the steps.
"I don't need sarcasm," Star said, "I meant: if they weren't signaled, why are they here?"
"If I had to guess?" Roddick said, not yielding his pace, but showing no sign of exhaustion. "They're used to regular reports, and it has gone well passed the time since the last one…." Roddick weaved through the boxes, crates, and barrels of the third floor, making it through to the door leading downward. Roddick moved, seemingly without thinking, where as Star bumped his foot on a barrel on his way out.
They moved down the next few stories quickly, making it to the bottom, and into the greeting room.
The greeting room was quite different than Star had remembered on the way up. The stone hearth with the marble mantle was still there, with the picture of the older Nyrian man watching over the room. What was missing was the giant chasm that dropped to nowhere. Without that, and the warm light coming from the fire, as well as the filigree and lanterns in the rafters and ceiling, the room looked and felt more like a Parlor. More chairs and wall tables lined the circular wall of the room, giving it a warm and cozy feel.
"If I'm right, they should be here in under a minute." Roddick said, standing in the middle of the parlor.
"Ok, what's the pl--"
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
A voice came from the outside, "Lt. Grund! Open up! ‘ere on orders of Xinor!" It was the kind of voice earned by a hundred hangovers.
"I thought you said we had a minute!" Star hissed.
"It was an estimate." Roddick whispered through his teeth. "They're obviously quicker than I thought…”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
"Come on, Tailus! We don't ‘ave all day!" the voice came back.
"Well, what are we doing? Kill them?" Star asked.
"Or lie?” Roddick returned, a little taken aback by the bloodthirstiness of his companion “Buy us a few more days…. Maybe--" Roddick spoke, uncertainly.
"Open the door." It was Maggie. But different. Colder, more calculated. Both turned toward her, and Star immediately turned away. She was naked. Her pale petit frame standing defiant in the doorway to the stairs.
Star covered his eye, looking anywhere but at the stairway door, "Maggie! What are you do--"
“Open. The. Door.” Maggie insisted, her cool voice not raising.
Roddick looked entirely too unperturbed at the sight of the naked redhead calmly giving orders. "I don't think this will get quite the reaction you're expecting…"
Margaret's eyes shined golden, like lanterns piercing through the darkness. "Just do it and get out of the way."
“No!” Star insistend, then looked to Roddick, whose face was considering, “You can’t be seriously thinking…”
“Lady’s orders…” Roddick said with a shrug and turned to the door and with a flip his hand (the magenta gem glowing), the inner door opened and then next the door that lead to the outside opened as well, the daylight flooding in silhouetting the two figures. Two men wearing leather armor, and swords and flintlocks loosely hanging from their belt, covering his dirt red hair with a metal rimmed helmet, stepped into the foyer and the parlor. The rimmed hat man's eyes adjusting to the difference of light, blinked a few times and staring right at the small naked red headed woman standing across the room.
"Well…" The long face of the man in the Tin Hat contorted to smile, and taking his hat off he said: "I had no idea Tailus had such entertainment…"
"I'm not here to entertain you." Margaret said coldly, her golden eyes focusing on him. "Tailus is dead." She said flatly.
The man's smile dropped, he then looked around. A Xericoz in a duster trained a pepperbox pistol at him, a Wizard with glimmering blue eyes stood by the Hearth, holding his hand in the snap position with a glowing gem catalyst aimed at him, and from behind the naked lady with the creepy eyes came a Cy'Shyk with an pearlescent neck carrying two swords, who stepped from the door behind the redhead.
"I see…" the tin hat man fingered his flintlock.
"And for you, I have a warning." Margaret stood still, her defiant stance in contrast her particularly vulnerable situation.
"Oh?" The man sneered, focusing his eyes of Margaret.
"For Xinor." Margaret said, coolly. "Tell him we're coming. You’re one Lieutenant down and the rest will fall. Leave Twilight Run and we will ignore his intrusion and resume business as usual.” Her voice was informative, but switched quickly to threatening, “Stay, and the fury of the 20 and 4 will come down on his house and leave nothing but ruin."
The man in the tin hat turned to his partner, giving a bemused look, "And who should I say is sending this message?"
"Soeur Margeurite Carrefour du Quais," Margaret’s voice never changed timbre. "First Ypfhar of the Order." The last part was spoken like a threat.
The tin hat man nodded, "Ok… Counteroffer:" He drew his flintlock and fired on the naked redhead. The bullet seeming to hit her in the head, but there was no reaction. Not even a hair on her head misplaced. Tin hat's face contorted in a mixture of surprise and terror.
Star, Da'La, and Roddick all began to move, but Margaret held her hand up to halt them, "No." She ordered. The others stopped. "That was a mistake…" she said coolly, then lifted her arm, the chain on her hand dangling and the sigil hanging from it glowed gold. The next sound was the tearing of clothes and flesh, and Tin Hat fell to his knees. He screamed as cuts, like invisible whips tearing into his clothes and peeled and tore his flesh. First along his chest, then back, face, right leg, left leg. Every slash opening new wounds, as blood stained his clothes. The only sound was the tearing and Tin Hat's screams, as Margaret's cold and indifferent face watched on, her hand out reached.
Everyone else stood in stunned silence, including the partner of Tin hat. After a minute of this, Tin Hat hit the floor. Unmoving.
"Your partner will require medical attention." Margaret spoke as if she was a doctor informing a patient. "Take him, then inform Xinor of our warning. We will not be waiting for his response."
The other soldier stood frozen. It was the kind of fear that shivered down the spine and bolted feet to floors, eyes locked on the naked priestess whose eyes like golden glowing embers burned holes into him.
"Go." Margaret raised her voice with the order, and with that the soldier grabbed his partner. In a panicked hurry, he ran out the door. The doors slamming behind him.
Nobody spoke. They stared at the door where the soldiers were. The silence screaming in the air. Nobody quite knew what to do. The gentle and heartful Ypfhar had just tortured a man in front of their eyes.
"Maggie…" Star broke the silence with a soft utterance that vibrated in the back of the mind halfway between concerned and terrified. He turned toward the door to the stairwell, but she was gone. He stared at the place she was, then at Da'La, who averted from his gaze. Da'La then turned and headed back up the stairs to follow her charge.
Star just stood there. Not knowing what to do. He just stared at the empty door.
Roddick spoke in a curious tone: "Her eyes were green, when I last saw them."
GM's Notes: Sometimes players surprise you. Taking information that you grant them and going in directions you never anticipated. Up until this point the dynamic had been set, the personalities and their interplay had become another known quality of the story. But after the Har'Gof, Maggie's player throws me a curveball. The junkie line was something I have thought about for over two years. It's just, such a moment. A moment when you realize something has altered. The implications and reasons will be explored later, instead of how it happened at the table, at the moment. But for now I need to express that sometimes, just sometimes. Players make you proud.
I've said before I make it a common practice to put in filler sessions between exciting moments. These grant some time to breathe and grow. This was no exception. But instead of a moment where they can think, now was a moment for a family fight. I was happy my players reacted as they did, stress testing their relationships. It makes things more dynamic, makes their characters more human. Good thing all of my players are such good sports.
As for advice: learn how to let go of the reigns. Sometimes the players take control of the session and that's perfectly fine. You don't need to always be in control. Besides, the occasional player directed session not only gives you a break, but gives players a little sense of ownership of the story. It helps them stay invested; which is good when you, like I do, tend to put characters through a lot.
Written by: Jack Shawhan
Proofread and Edited by: Alhana Escher
Original Characters played by:
Maggie - Donovan Hill
Star - Stephen Kirk
Roddick-Tem - Joshua Horton
Schancier, Whispers of Ja Reyil, and all associated copyright Jack Shawhan, 2021
