...and indeed, the conversation didn’t get easier, though we did have a pleasant interlude where Jeret brought us an evening meal and we relaxed, content to stay at the Golden Auroch for a while. Jeret asked us if we’d stay for a while after hours – he had something further to speak with us about.
He closed up a little early, gently but firmly sending the evening’s customers on their way. Without other ears to overhear he had a request to make of us. As we’d be travelling on to Hengethorn and would be there for the annual ritual he asked us to do a little investigating into the new priest and the directions the ceremony was taking. We’d both had past experiences with Yozi worshippers and our story from earlier had evidently conveyed to him we had similar views.
Jeret had business in the North and it would keep him from Hengethorn at ritual time, but he was concerned that the worship might be tainted. Rumours had reached his ears suggesting there were those trying to subvert the ceremony. His suspicions lay first with the new priest who’d been chosen after the old one died in mysterious circumstances and who led the rites in new ways – but he wanted us to find out.
The Hengethorn rite was known to us from the past few times we’d travelled through the town. Hengethorn executed a criminal each year and their blood gave power to the prayer to the town gods which renewed the land and fields around the town. It wasn’t pretty, but it was their way – and we circus folk tried not to interfere with the towns we travelled to. We were there to entertain, not to judge. It would do no harm for us to check, though. We didn’t want Yozi worshippers taking over towns – it was bad for business, not to mention our antipathy toward them in general after the murder of one of our number back in Summer’s Folly. We agreed to investigate.
The conversation turned towards the risks of falling into worship of the Yozi and of Dark Brood. Jeret was keen to caution us, but Olvir had never heard of Dark Brood and asked with a puzzled expression what they were. Song knew – she recalled reading about them in a patron’s library in Falshire. True, she wasn’t supposed to have read that particular text, but curiosity had gotten the better of her. She explained how there were old gods who’d sided with the Primordials in the war in heaven and who’d been cast out; living now in the ground beneath creation, taking worship where they could inveigle it. There were even tales of tribes of dwarfs who lived below the ground who did battle with them.
Jeret was a little concerned by Song’s knowledge – this was something he didn’t expect a simple travelling alchemist to know and sharply warned her against any kind of devotion to such creatures. She protested – she had no desire to worship such things – but Jeret was more than a little concerned and went on to cautioned Olvir and Caelan that they may have to be responsible should Song fall to their worship – intentionally or otherwise. Olvir gave a shrug. Of course he’d take responsibility for that, he said. Jeret, a serious expression on his face, demanded to know if he’d swear to it. It unsettled Olvir a little – but he agreed. Yes, if it came to it, he told Jeret.
It was at that point things went a little pear-shaped. Caelan, already suspicious by the direction the conversation had taken thought what Jeret was trying to do was twist a promise out of Olvir he’d be bound to keep. And while that had crossed Jeret’s mind, it wasn’t something he’d actually done. Caelan put his hand on his sword and told Olvir to keep silent and Jeret to cease his scheming.
It took some talking down, but the situation was gently defused, Caelan still alert but more inclined to trust his colleagues who reassured him nothing untoward was going on. Jeret explained that while he could use a form of sorcery to bind Olvir to his word he trusted that Olvir would keep it – and he’d use no such magic.
Song seemed more curious than concerned and even Olvir was intrigued as to his power to hold others to oaths. He told us the ability was a gift from his patron, and akin to sorcery. It wasn’t like any sorcery Song knew – but she also knew how much she hadn’t learnt yet, so asked Jeret directly who his patron was. That was the key question – he took a moment to assess us all, before trusting us with that piece of information and flaring into bright sight his caste mark, a golden ring enclosing a smaller golden disc. We were, to say the least, surprised.
Song confirmed what we all suspected – his patron was the Unconquered Sun, and he was one of those variously called Anathema, demon, Exalted…epithets abounded and though the Realm teachings hadn’t taken root in our part of creation we still wondered at this man who until a few seconds ago, had seemed mostly like us. It was Song, of course, who had questions, and he did his best to answer them, even offering a demonstration on Olvir. It didn’t go quite as he’d hoped, but he assured us Olvir’s injuries then next morning would be much improved.
By this time it had grown so late Luna was descending and we were weary – so when he offered us rooms to stay we gratefully accepted. It would save us a walk across town and while we didn’t expect any misdemeanours like the previous night we chose not to chance it.
The next morning we experimented with a pair of coins Jeret had given us: one to take with us and the other of which he’d keep. He could ‘hear’ what went on near the coin we held by listening to the other – useful for when we went to investigate Hengethorn. We established it would only work one way, after a bit of experimenting, and Caelan got merrily into the swing of things trying them out. Satisfied they’d work as described Song tucked the coin, complete with sound-proof wooden box, into her satchel of potions to keep it separate from the jade and we went out shopping. The market was our first destination – Caelan wanted to look at armour and Song figured she could probably do with a weapon other than her knees.
The chain armour Caelan admired was just what he was looking for – however the price of it was beyond his current means. As we perused the stalls Song made arrangements, purchased an expensive, richly spiced cake and bought herself a couple of weapons and a curious pair of wooden yoyo’s to practice with – they might make for an interesting act some time. We collected the tickets and posters we’d arranged to have printed and set to work publicizing the circus, dropping tickets off at the taverns as we went.
The morning and early afternoon went quickly and it was soon time for our meeting with Adler of the Golden Feather. Back at the River Rat a couple of hours prior to our date, Song lead Caelan and Olvir in prayer to the god of the city, offering up as sacrifice the spiced cake she’d bought earlier.
Prayers complete, we set off for the Guild house. The Guild servant who enquired as to our purpose was a little snooty but eventually relented when he realized we did have an appointment – and with whom. We followed, as directed, the spiral staircase which led up all four floors – each more opulent than the last. At the top was a single door, inlaid with gold and jade, which opened at our knock, and making our way inside met Adler in a richly laid out dining room where he bade us sit and eat with him. He thanked us for the offering we’d made earlier – it nice to see some adhering to the old traditions, he remarked.
Teela curled up under Olvir’s chair where he snuck her morsels throughout the meal. She wasn’t her usual exuberant self, probably due to the glances Adler kept casting her – the eagle in him evidently seeing her as a tasty morsel. Thankfully there was plenty of food to sate the palate of god, man and tayra.
After somewhat stilted chat over food, where we talked about the goings on in the city, our plans and the activity going on in the north surrounding Water Shapes the Land (which Adler was mostly indifferent to as it didn’t seem to bring change to Eagle’s Point), the god came to the reason he’d invited us. He knew our route would take us through Moonspire and he had an interest there – a box containing personal possessions which had been stolen from him some years before. He knew it was in the base of the spire itself, in one of the lower levels, but not precisely where, and warned us it was probably guarded by demons. Evidently he didn’t want to go seek it out himself and despite his Guild connections he didn’t want to ask them; feeling they may be a little too interested in the contents themselves and not nearly subtle enough. Selene’s Flurry on the other hand, could be the vessel he needed. He gave us a parchment with his seal on, so we’d recognize the box which bore the same mark. It contained an inscription in Old Realm which Song could read, and she offered a translation to Caelan and Olvir; a tale of an eagle who flew too close to the sun and scorched his feathers. Adler bristled a little as she read it out – not expecting her to be able to read Old Realm.
We tried to ignore that, and moved swiftly on – telling him we’d put his proposal to Selene, and that she’d likely want to visit him to discuss matters further (which he already expected). Finally, having taken our fill of rich wine, plentiful dessert and the odd stuffed mouse, we departed and returned to our much more modest quarters at the River Rat.
The next couple of days found us drumming up more enthusiasm for the circus and taking some time out for our own ends. Song made a nice profit from visiting various alchemical suppliers while Olvir took much-needed time to rest up and recuperate. Jeret’s intervention had improved his wounds no end but he still had some healing to do. Caelan headed out of the city with his horse to hunt.
Selene’s Flurry rolled into town on the final Marsday of Descending Air. Frost glittered on blades of grass as we rode out to meet them and clambered aboard the tent Selene rode in on the lead yeddim to brief her on what we’d done. Of course, that had to take a back seat to the telling off Caelan received first, but thankfully we discovered other than being lighter in jade, the circus hadn’t suffered overly from his accidental shooting of a woman in Misty Vale. Having escaped what could have been a much worse punishment, he slid down the side of the yeddim with a gravity-defying somersault the acrobats would have been proud of. To a round of applause, he vaulted onto his horse and led the circus into the city.
Olvir and Song remained to apprise Selene of the pertinent details, including her invitation to meet with Adler. Song showed her the seal we’d been given and asked her to help with a part of the translation she’d struggled with – translating ‘sun’ seemed to be written as ‘the duly appointed representative of the sun’. Selene had a flawless understanding of Old Realm and credited it to her upbringing – but didn’t go into further detail.
The camp set up, we were settling back in when a runner brought Caelan a mysterious parcel. It was simply addressed to ‘Swift’, at the circus. Opening it he discovered the chain armour he’d been admiring recently, fitting him nicely and without any note to tell who his benefactor was. He tried it on and went to show Olvir, who, aside from joking it was made of glass, couldn’t offer any suggestions on who might have sent it. He checked with Selene as Caelan went to show Song, but she knew nothing of it either. Sneaking up on Song’s caravan he burst through the door, brandishing his sword – to her great amusement as she’d heard him sneaking up. As he went away, she admired how far he’d come in such a short time. Not so long ago he was scared of even setting foot in her caravan.
The circus performances went well and as our time in Eagle’s Point drew to a close Selene asked the three of us if we’d like to go on ahead of the circus and set up for the next stop. Jadespike was next – a mine with tight security and thin-lipped guards and only a three day stay (thankfully). Still, there’d be less that needed organizing this time around, and we were happy to go ahead as emissaries. Packing saddlebags and warm cloaks, we set off once again.