Gisard plods over to the corpse, dips a claw in the blood and gives it a little taste. And makes the reptilian equivalent of the face you make sucking on a lemon. "Pfft. Pffft. Disssgusting. Highly flammable, alssso. Do not eat."
Your vampire fashioned outfit billows triumphantly in a sudden breeze Bran. Noah gives you two high calibre finger guns.
With a clap of his hands Ali’s servants begin to drain the blood into bags, crack off talons and teeth, and gut it of various organs. Finally a much older woman slices thinly beneath some of the prismatic membranes with a special blade. They get bagged too. Nothing goes to waste.
A talon is given to each of you as a memento. Gisard, the older woman gives you a bag of blood with a gentle nod and a pat on your scaly claw.
From this point on the journey is punctuated by introductions from other members of the caravan.
Holly, you end up sat next to Ali on some expensive pillows.
Bran, you’re still with Noah, and two guys called Small Ahmed and Tall Amhed. They’re about the same size. They go on and on about your shot, exaggerating it with each retelling. You can’t help but smile.
Gisard, the old woman is a bronze skinned, heavily wrinkled woman named Fatima. She sits you at the reigns, and after a moment of nerves you realise the horses know exactly where they’re going. Does she think you’re a child? Why would this interest you?
Pomme, you’re still with Jamila, who’s silence is not altogether a bad thing. You also consider that you might be terrifying.
Looking up you see Fleur is fluttering around Petite, who seems greatly endeared to her.
—
The city is just about in sight. You’ll be there in half an hour. Feel free to chat some more, then we’ll be in the city.
Pomme glances at Jamilah's kit. Pomme's rifle, is a bit fancier looking than standard Grande Armee issue but with no functional difference. If the dangers continue to escalate, perhaps they can find a skilled gunsmith in this city! At the very least to make sure they have a full stock of shot.
GrogMy sword is only steelin a useful shape.Registered Userregular
The skeleton plies Lord Ali with yarns of her more notable duels, such as her victory against the cloud giant Mostas or the time she fought the Endless Knight to exhaustion. Mindful of the upper crust's tendency to have a more skewed perspective, she tries to gauge what she and her companions are expected to do as 'new blessed souls'.
Ali laughs at your jokes, pantomimes shock, woe and awe at all the appropriate places. He adores your stories, and you suddenly feel much more like you’re old self Holly.
“Well Hol-Li... Holly? Holly.”, he seems to enjoy saying a name foreign to him, “We will get you rested at my mansion tonight, then tomorrow we must visit the high priests. The news will spread from there and all will be uplifted by the news of Amlah’s miracle!”
“For some time I will be your patron until you settle into the city. I... imagine you’ll desire to live in what is called the Traveller’s District, as it is home to... ah, Amlah’s most vibrant and rare flowers, such as yourself.”
“But your future is vast and uncharted! Who can say what the One Above has in store for you?”
He slaps his knee and gives you a winning smile. You won’t ever be a noble, parliament member or priest is the unsaid finisher to all that.
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GrogMy sword is only steelin a useful shape.Registered Userregular
Holly knows that smile all too well. She returns her own unmoving rictus.
The city has an official name but only someone in charge making a speech would bother to use it. Welcome to the civilisation of the people, the only place to be!
You’re about to enter the Hotel District. A luxury spot for the rich to pretend they’re on vacation in the only place they can. Guards are sat drinking water by the gate. But one is sprinting down the road towards you, no weapon in hand.
The guard skids to a halt as the caravan rolls up and salutes to Ali, who waves in return.
After some deep breaths, the guard speaks, “You have been to a sacred oasis my lord, yes?”
“Oh yes! I make regular pilgrimage, you would not believe—” Ali is cut short.
“You have found new people my lord, that is right?”, Ali opens his mouth which is enough for the guard, “By order of the high priests, you must visit the temple right away! I will escort you! Come, quickly!”
The other guards rise to their feet, eyebrows raised. Ali looks to Jamila, who’s emotionless face must surely reveal something to him, for his smile returns and orders are given. The caravan continues on at a trot behind the guard.
Jamila makes a sign across her chest Pomme, not your sign, but you get it.
You pick up a couple things, but not in great detail.
That guard knew you were coming, even though no one has been “born from a sacred oasis” for a very long time. How?
Ali isn’t on the best of terms with the high priests. His natural charm does not get him far with them, and that’s his first and last line of defence for most things in life.
You’re all about to pay a visit to the high priests a day before Ali had planned. Whatever he was planning to do to present you in the best possible light is shot down in flames.
—
All around you hear commotion, some kids on a roof seem to be watching excitedly. How can word be out so broadly, so quickly?
It won’t be long until you’re at the Temple of the High Priests, which itself is only a few paces from Parliament, the seat of power in the city.
As the roads converge before these large, opulent dome structures a platoon of soldiers begins marching beside your caravan, and turning around you see a second fancy caravan has joined the journey.
Gisard suspects it has something to do with Glamjin's game at least. Either another party already arrived, one or more of the city's leaders are involved in the game, or Glamjin himself is here.
NipsHe/HimLuxuriating in existential crisis.Registered Userregular
edited February 2019
Likewise, Bran suspects that the "second fancy caravan" is another group of ne'er-do-wells force-drafted in Glamjin's game. Their group arrived through an oasis portal first, and word got back to town about their impending arrival.
Our caravan, which happened later due to our later exit from the portal, never got word back to town but coincidentally arrived just before the other group.
If all that conjecture is true, this place is about to get filthy with ne'er-do-wells. Eh....more filthy, judging from what we've seen so far.
Bran, you’re almost on the money! There is a party at the temple already, yours is the middle group, the one behind you are last to arrive.
The rest of you are on to something but not 100% correct.
Regardless, you all carry +1 forward to your next roll!
—
You have arrived at the palace. You are swiftly escorted into a secluded chamber by a mix of squabbling priests, sweating soldiers and nosy scribes.
“Welcome.”, the highest of high priests exudes a sharpness of mind, “What a holy day this is. It’s as if the trail of newly blessed souls will never end.”
The words never end almost stab you. One soldier ducks.
There’s a party of stolen folk sat uncomfortablely over in the corner. They’ve had this speech once. They seem sullen but unharmed. A feeble looking collection of bare-foot monks are with them. Oasis pilgrims, you reckon.
You’re joined by another party, who’s haughty patron appears to be a peer of Ali, another noble. She pushes her way to the front.
“Voice of Amlah! Hear me! I am Lady Lateef! My father sits at Parliament, my brother a great priest! Why should I be manhandled in this manner!?”, she slams her fist into her hand.
“You haven’t been, so hush.”, the highest high priest pinches their brow and takes a seat, “I believe in you.”, they’re talking to you, not any noble, “It has been centuries since such an event has come to bloom, yet here we are.”
“But before you go, I must rid you of any misconceptions about your birth. Your birth at the oasis. Your creation by Amlah’s hand.”
Every word is punctuated, over pronounced in a get what I need you to say? sort of way.
Lots of monks, not officially part of the church, but nevertheless devout. There is like ten of these guys.
The first party. You don’t know anything about them.
The last party. Likewise.
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GrogMy sword is only steelin a useful shape.Registered Userregular
Holly was never comfortable in churches. She raises her index finger and points it vaguely around the room filled with strange people, briefly considers challenging someone to a duel to get back in her comfort zone, then lowers it again.
"Forgive me, O, er, highest high up one, but I wasn't aware we had any misconceptions?" She turns to her compatriots, as if to check with them, then scratches at her bare skull "Though, I suppose that is the very nature of a misconception..."
The highest priest purse their lips, then force a smile, “It must be so hard to be born fully formed, I’ve always thought. I’ve been reading through our divine texts on the subject all morning.”
“There were so many sad outcomes in the beginning. I want you to know you can take your time coming to terms with your birth, your creation in this world by Amlah, who is the One Above us all.”
“I just need to be sure you won’t be bothering we mere ordinary people with any stories you may make up.”
“After that you are all free to go.”
“Jus’ like tha’, huh?”, a rough, crackling voice says. That’s the one in red with the very intriguing rifle speaking. You can’t place what’s wrong with their voice, but it’s weird.
The highest priest smiles, “The One Above is always watching, why would I need to keep you here?”
“Heh. Then I were made in tha’ pool, easy. ‘m fresh as a babe.”, the red guy turns to the rest of their party with a non-visible but definitely smug grin.
Gisard surveys the crowd of colorful characters from atop Hao-Gao. He's pleased to see another lizardfolk, before he remembers they are likely part of an opposing team. How tragic, to be lost in a land full of mammals and the only familiar face an enemy!
“But I’ve got a mom. I’ve got a mom! I know I do! I really know I do!”, a little voice pipes up. She’s just a kid, and she’s starting to cry.
The knight in bright white armour doesn’t even turn their head, “Deal with that child Paolo.”
The green skinned fellow with glowing eyes drops to their knees instantly. He whispers to her, and you hear it all Pomme.
“Sh, shh. It’s okay. It’s still me and you, okay? We’re gonna get through this nasty dream together, right? Just nod your head to the lady, we know it’s not right, but it’s just so we can go, okay? We’ll get you home safe. I always keep a promise.”
He looks back at the priest, “We were made at the oasis by Amlah.”
He puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder, and she nods feverishly, struggling to talk through tears.
“It’s been a long day, you wouldn’t believe what we’ve been through already... being born, I mean.”
When the highest of high priests asks the knight, they take out their sword, kneel and simply say, “Yes.”
—
They’re free to go, and will very soon be leaving. Once Lady Lateef and her servants are ready—well, once Lateef visits her brother and tells him how hard done by she is, honestly.
—
“Well that was painlessss.”, the lizardfolk gladiator snarls, “We’ve been trying to get the golem,” he gestures to the four armed machine man, “to agree for hoursss.”
“I have replayed all my memories from one cycle before entering the wormhole, and completed two entire system defragmentations, I am to within 98% assurance my assessment of the situation is correct.”, the machine explains.
The tiny frog samurai facepalms.
Edit: Many hours later I noticed how badly I mangled one of the characters names. The smouldering guy is named Paolo.
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NipsHe/HimLuxuriating in existential crisis.Registered Userregular
Despite his heroic, nay legendary, actions in slaying the Sand Dragon and saving their caravan, Bran remains quiet and half-hidden among his companions and what remains of Ali's entourage here.
He recognizes that someone's Dragon is another man's common pest, and despite his crack shot it may just as well have been lucky.
If pressed, Bran agrees to the story of whole birth from the oasis, end of story. All he wants is to get out of this court of fools as quickly and quietly as possible.
"Let's go with that plan, pretend to be ssstupid."
Gisard speaks up. "Yesss, yesss, we alssso were born from... Amlah was it? Don't mind the statue, it'sss not very intelligent and can't ssspeak..." *under his breath* "...liesss..." *normal volume* "...but we are in agreement."
The lizardfolk gladiator does whatever it is you do in place of a smile, then continues trying to convince the robot they need to stop talking about quantum physics in earshot of a soldier and lower ranking priest.
If Holly says the right thing, you’re out of here.
The party lead by Lady Lateef is out the door. She’s telling them about the proper dresses to wear past noon.
The white knight briefly stops as the others walk on behind the obnoxious noble, a hand on the hilt of their sword.
“It is good to finally meet my rivals.”, then they move on.
it's like a human smile, except there's far too many interlocking hooked teeth that go on several feet too far
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GrogMy sword is only steelin a useful shape.Registered Userregular
Holly makes the universal sign for 'I'm watching you, bucko' at the white knight, then turns back to the high priest. "Yes, yes, I agree, come on, we're losing ground."
The robot perks up. “I accept your perception of reality is true to you, and will abide by it within verbal communication with other nodes throughout your system for the duration of this unit’s cycles in this space-time.”
The highest of high priests, Voice of Amlah, Vigilant Eye of the Holy, squints.
“Itsss the bessst you’re going to get.”, the lizardfolk gladiator pleads, holding their hands up and shrugging. He grips his hammer and uses it to pull himself up, “Ssshall we move forward, your holiness?”
The priest opens a book and begins writing with a quill, “Very well. Know this and be comforted... the One Above is always watching. Good day to you all.”
—
You’re all free to go.
—
Lord Ali is using up all his discipline not to run as soon as the priest finishes speaking.
“Oh, Ali, your transgressions, both private and in your dealings with those that would spurn this city, are as ever, noted. You are not a fitting guide, but I have no other. Do not cause the church issues.”
Ali bows and trips over himself to think of something witty or charming. It’s pretty cringey.
Okay now you can walk out.
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GrogMy sword is only steelin a useful shape.Registered Userregular
"Ali, my dear friend, will you allow us a moment?" Holly gestures for the others to huddle up. "Ok, so that other group clearly has a much more competent guide than us. I say two of us try and tail them to nick any leads they get, while the rest of us shake things up." She pops her head up for a moment and gives Ali a thumbs up, then ducks down again. "If this place is as stagnant as it seems, it won't take much shaking for some clues to fall out."
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NipsHe/HimLuxuriating in existential crisis.Registered Userregular
"I'm all for a bit of reconnaissance, but what are we looking for? I doubt our exit from this place will be as simple as finding a doorway."
“I completely agree Holly, I say me and Bran shadow them. I’m pretty sure Lateef will go visit her brother first, who right now will be out in the rear courtyard reading some scripture.”
“Holly, Jamila accepted your duel, which is taking place in Traveller’s District tomorrow, it’s be only fair she takes you there to scope out the place. That’s what we tell Ali anyway. Gisard, you go with them. If anyone has any clues about places outside the city, you’ll find it there, and a person of your shape will have more luck then a human.”
“Wolf-man, I’ve not caught your name, a thousand apologises, should go back with Ali so he feels like he still has some control of the sitch. What do you say? Does the plan need any work?”
It’s at this point you realise Noah the Wind has been in the huddle the whole time.
Gisard gives Noah a long, unblinking crocodile side-stare as he realizes the rogue(?) has been standing right next to him. After an uncomfortably long pause, he says "Sssorry, I don't think we've been introduced. You were...?"
“Noah the Wind, esquire.”, he’s added the esquire just now, “I work for Ali as a scout and tout. I’ve got great ostrich racing tips you want them. I keep my ear to the ground for him too, but mostly for the good of the under class.”
“I walk a fine line between human and other, meaning I can get us in most places, either by word or well, the old fashioned way.”
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NipsHe/HimLuxuriating in existential crisis.Registered Userregular
Bran chuckles. It's not the tact he would have used if his and Noah's positions were reversed, but he appreciates Noah's raw brazenness.
"That not a bad plan, but we'd be a little spread thin. I think tailing Lateef and her crew of 'Oasis-Born' is a solid plan. Having at least one of us stay on with Ali seems prudent, for the moment; we don't wan't his enthusiasm to cause us extra trouble, but he might be useful to lean on and leverage."
"Beyond that, I think it's debatable to scout the dueling site right now. It's up to y'all, whether you think it's worth our immediate attention. I was planning to get the 'lay of the land' this evening anyway."
"I am Pomme Desmerais, and this is my companion Fleur. It is good to make your aquaintance, Noah the Wind."
Pomme bows slightly and Fleur waggles her fuzzy antennae, seemingly in greetings.
"I have to ask, Noah... I am not a schemer and maybe this question should be left to the more furtive fellows in our following, but what is your goal here? You say you work for Ali, but would not any wrongdoings on our part, such as say, seeking things outside of this city have disfavour fall on our host? And why is he already in disfavour with the church?"
Noah half smiles, scratching his chin, “I don’t know much of anything about anywhere else, but here, even a good noble is still on the opposite side of a silent war. Maybe that’s how civilisations go, I’m not the one to ask.”
“He’s a good guy though, I don’t wish ill on him, but you’ve got to break a few eggs to make an omelette. I hope that makes sense.”
He starts telling you what an omelette is before Gisard’s stare brings him back on track.
“What he does in his own time is his business, but he turned down an arranged marriage for one thing, and he’s sympathetic to the plight of non-humans for another. The church isn’t really that hard on people... so long as you say the right thing and turn a blind eye to the wrong things.”
Jamila is tapping her foot, and Ali might melt into a puddle if he doesn’t leave the temple soon.
Posts
Your vampire fashioned outfit billows triumphantly in a sudden breeze Bran. Noah gives you two high calibre finger guns.
With a clap of his hands Ali’s servants begin to drain the blood into bags, crack off talons and teeth, and gut it of various organs. Finally a much older woman slices thinly beneath some of the prismatic membranes with a special blade. They get bagged too. Nothing goes to waste.
A talon is given to each of you as a memento. Gisard, the older woman gives you a bag of blood with a gentle nod and a pat on your scaly claw.
From this point on the journey is punctuated by introductions from other members of the caravan.
Holly, you end up sat next to Ali on some expensive pillows.
Bran, you’re still with Noah, and two guys called Small Ahmed and Tall Amhed. They’re about the same size. They go on and on about your shot, exaggerating it with each retelling. You can’t help but smile.
Gisard, the old woman is a bronze skinned, heavily wrinkled woman named Fatima. She sits you at the reigns, and after a moment of nerves you realise the horses know exactly where they’re going. Does she think you’re a child? Why would this interest you?
Pomme, you’re still with Jamila, who’s silence is not altogether a bad thing. You also consider that you might be terrifying.
Looking up you see Fleur is fluttering around Petite, who seems greatly endeared to her.
—
The city is just about in sight. You’ll be there in half an hour. Feel free to chat some more, then we’ll be in the city.
Pomme glances at Jamilah's kit. Pomme's rifle, is a bit fancier looking than standard Grande Armee issue but with no functional difference. If the dangers continue to escalate, perhaps they can find a skilled gunsmith in this city! At the very least to make sure they have a full stock of shot.
“Well Hol-Li... Holly? Holly.”, he seems to enjoy saying a name foreign to him, “We will get you rested at my mansion tonight, then tomorrow we must visit the high priests. The news will spread from there and all will be uplifted by the news of Amlah’s miracle!”
“For some time I will be your patron until you settle into the city. I... imagine you’ll desire to live in what is called the Traveller’s District, as it is home to... ah, Amlah’s most vibrant and rare flowers, such as yourself.”
“But your future is vast and uncharted! Who can say what the One Above has in store for you?”
He slaps his knee and gives you a winning smile. You won’t ever be a noble, parliament member or priest is the unsaid finisher to all that.
The city has an official name but only someone in charge making a speech would bother to use it. Welcome to the civilisation of the people, the only place to be!
You’re about to enter the Hotel District. A luxury spot for the rich to pretend they’re on vacation in the only place they can. Guards are sat drinking water by the gate. But one is sprinting down the road towards you, no weapon in hand.
As an aside: It is important to note Parliament grounds also contains the Temple of the High Priests. Separation of church and law this ain’t.
OOC:
What? You wanted like, throat singing as the track? Get outta here!
After some deep breaths, the guard speaks, “You have been to a sacred oasis my lord, yes?”
“Oh yes! I make regular pilgrimage, you would not believe—” Ali is cut short.
“You have found new people my lord, that is right?”, Ali opens his mouth which is enough for the guard, “By order of the high priests, you must visit the temple right away! I will escort you! Come, quickly!”
The other guards rise to their feet, eyebrows raised. Ali looks to Jamila, who’s emotionless face must surely reveal something to him, for his smile returns and orders are given. The caravan continues on at a trot behind the guard.
Jamila makes a sign across her chest Pomme, not your sign, but you get it.
Pomme attempts to inconspicuously study their faces and figure out if they can glean what is going on.
Geth, roll 2d6+4 for Discearn Realities
That guard knew you were coming, even though no one has been “born from a sacred oasis” for a very long time. How?
Ali isn’t on the best of terms with the high priests. His natural charm does not get him far with them, and that’s his first and last line of defence for most things in life.
You’re all about to pay a visit to the high priests a day before Ali had planned. Whatever he was planning to do to present you in the best possible light is shot down in flames.
—
All around you hear commotion, some kids on a roof seem to be watching excitedly. How can word be out so broadly, so quickly?
It won’t be long until you’re at the Temple of the High Priests, which itself is only a few paces from Parliament, the seat of power in the city.
As the roads converge before these large, opulent dome structures a platoon of soldiers begins marching beside your caravan, and turning around you see a second fancy caravan has joined the journey.
You don’t feel that threatened by this journey, after all, you did throw a dragon twenty minutes ago.
Have you pieced together how they knew you’d come? You’ll all get +1 forward if you guess correctly.
Our caravan, which happened later due to our later exit from the portal, never got word back to town but coincidentally arrived just before the other group.
If all that conjecture is true, this place is about to get filthy with ne'er-do-wells. Eh....more filthy, judging from what we've seen so far.
The rest of you are on to something but not 100% correct.
Regardless, you all carry +1 forward to your next roll!
—
You have arrived at the palace. You are swiftly escorted into a secluded chamber by a mix of squabbling priests, sweating soldiers and nosy scribes.
“Welcome.”, the highest of high priests exudes a sharpness of mind, “What a holy day this is. It’s as if the trail of newly blessed souls will never end.”
The words never end almost stab you. One soldier ducks.
There’s a party of stolen folk sat uncomfortablely over in the corner. They’ve had this speech once. They seem sullen but unharmed. A feeble looking collection of bare-foot monks are with them. Oasis pilgrims, you reckon.
You’re joined by another party, who’s haughty patron appears to be a peer of Ali, another noble. She pushes her way to the front.
“Voice of Amlah! Hear me! I am Lady Lateef! My father sits at Parliament, my brother a great priest! Why should I be manhandled in this manner!?”, she slams her fist into her hand.
“You haven’t been, so hush.”, the highest high priest pinches their brow and takes a seat, “I believe in you.”, they’re talking to you, not any noble, “It has been centuries since such an event has come to bloom, yet here we are.”
“But before you go, I must rid you of any misconceptions about your birth. Your birth at the oasis. Your creation by Amlah’s hand.”
Every word is punctuated, over pronounced in a get what I need you to say? sort of way.
Edit: Also the monks are catfolk, for the record.
The highest high priest! (HHP to their friends)
Lady Lateef
Lots of monks, not officially part of the church, but nevertheless devout. There is like ten of these guys.
The first party. You don’t know anything about them.
The last party. Likewise.
"Forgive me, O, er, highest high up one, but I wasn't aware we had any misconceptions?" She turns to her compatriots, as if to check with them, then scratches at her bare skull "Though, I suppose that is the very nature of a misconception..."
“There were so many sad outcomes in the beginning. I want you to know you can take your time coming to terms with your birth, your creation in this world by Amlah, who is the One Above us all.”
“I just need to be sure you won’t be bothering we mere ordinary people with any stories you may make up.”
“After that you are all free to go.”
“Jus’ like tha’, huh?”, a rough, crackling voice says. That’s the one in red with the very intriguing rifle speaking. You can’t place what’s wrong with their voice, but it’s weird.
The highest priest smiles, “The One Above is always watching, why would I need to keep you here?”
“Heh. Then I were made in tha’ pool, easy. ‘m fresh as a babe.”, the red guy turns to the rest of their party with a non-visible but definitely smug grin.
The knight in bright white armour doesn’t even turn their head, “Deal with that child Paolo.”
The green skinned fellow with glowing eyes drops to their knees instantly. He whispers to her, and you hear it all Pomme.
“Sh, shh. It’s okay. It’s still me and you, okay? We’re gonna get through this nasty dream together, right? Just nod your head to the lady, we know it’s not right, but it’s just so we can go, okay? We’ll get you home safe. I always keep a promise.”
He looks back at the priest, “We were made at the oasis by Amlah.”
He puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder, and she nods feverishly, struggling to talk through tears.
“It’s been a long day, you wouldn’t believe what we’ve been through already... being born, I mean.”
When the highest of high priests asks the knight, they take out their sword, kneel and simply say, “Yes.”
—
They’re free to go, and will very soon be leaving. Once Lady Lateef and her servants are ready—well, once Lateef visits her brother and tells him how hard done by she is, honestly.
—
“Well that was painlessss.”, the lizardfolk gladiator snarls, “We’ve been trying to get the golem,” he gestures to the four armed machine man, “to agree for hoursss.”
“I have replayed all my memories from one cycle before entering the wormhole, and completed two entire system defragmentations, I am to within 98% assurance my assessment of the situation is correct.”, the machine explains.
The tiny frog samurai facepalms.
Edit: Many hours later I noticed how badly I mangled one of the characters names. The smouldering guy is named Paolo.
He recognizes that someone's Dragon is another man's common pest, and despite his crack shot it may just as well have been lucky.
If pressed, Bran agrees to the story of whole birth from the oasis, end of story. All he wants is to get out of this court of fools as quickly and quietly as possible.
He turns to face you, trying his best to muffle his voice with a paw, “I cannot lie, but I am not a fool. I’m barking if she asks anything of me.”
He laughs very, very quietly then sits down, wagging his stone tail with a dumb expression.
—
The priest seems pleased with your mumbled agreement Bran. Quietness is preferred, it would seem.
Noticing Bran's assent, Pomme shakes their head but agrees that they were born this morning.
Gisard speaks up. "Yesss, yesss, we alssso were born from... Amlah was it? Don't mind the statue, it'sss not very intelligent and can't ssspeak..." *under his breath* "...liesss..." *normal volume* "...but we are in agreement."
If Holly says the right thing, you’re out of here.
The party lead by Lady Lateef is out the door. She’s telling them about the proper dresses to wear past noon.
The white knight briefly stops as the others walk on behind the obnoxious noble, a hand on the hilt of their sword.
“It is good to finally meet my rivals.”, then they move on.
The highest of high priests, Voice of Amlah, Vigilant Eye of the Holy, squints.
“Itsss the bessst you’re going to get.”, the lizardfolk gladiator pleads, holding their hands up and shrugging. He grips his hammer and uses it to pull himself up, “Ssshall we move forward, your holiness?”
The priest opens a book and begins writing with a quill, “Very well. Know this and be comforted... the One Above is always watching. Good day to you all.”
—
You’re all free to go.
—
Lord Ali is using up all his discipline not to run as soon as the priest finishes speaking.
“Oh, Ali, your transgressions, both private and in your dealings with those that would spurn this city, are as ever, noted. You are not a fitting guide, but I have no other. Do not cause the church issues.”
Ali bows and trips over himself to think of something witty or charming. It’s pretty cringey.
Okay now you can walk out.
“Holly, Jamila accepted your duel, which is taking place in Traveller’s District tomorrow, it’s be only fair she takes you there to scope out the place. That’s what we tell Ali anyway. Gisard, you go with them. If anyone has any clues about places outside the city, you’ll find it there, and a person of your shape will have more luck then a human.”
“Wolf-man, I’ve not caught your name, a thousand apologises, should go back with Ali so he feels like he still has some control of the sitch. What do you say? Does the plan need any work?”
It’s at this point you realise Noah the Wind has been in the huddle the whole time.
“I walk a fine line between human and other, meaning I can get us in most places, either by word or well, the old fashioned way.”
"That not a bad plan, but we'd be a little spread thin. I think tailing Lateef and her crew of 'Oasis-Born' is a solid plan. Having at least one of us stay on with Ali seems prudent, for the moment; we don't wan't his enthusiasm to cause us extra trouble, but he might be useful to lean on and leverage."
"Beyond that, I think it's debatable to scout the dueling site right now. It's up to y'all, whether you think it's worth our immediate attention. I was planning to get the 'lay of the land' this evening anyway."
Pomme bows slightly and Fleur waggles her fuzzy antennae, seemingly in greetings.
"I have to ask, Noah... I am not a schemer and maybe this question should be left to the more furtive fellows in our following, but what is your goal here? You say you work for Ali, but would not any wrongdoings on our part, such as say, seeking things outside of this city have disfavour fall on our host? And why is he already in disfavour with the church?"
“He’s a good guy though, I don’t wish ill on him, but you’ve got to break a few eggs to make an omelette. I hope that makes sense.”
He starts telling you what an omelette is before Gisard’s stare brings him back on track.
“What he does in his own time is his business, but he turned down an arranged marriage for one thing, and he’s sympathetic to the plight of non-humans for another. The church isn’t really that hard on people... so long as you say the right thing and turn a blind eye to the wrong things.”
Jamila is tapping her foot, and Ali might melt into a puddle if he doesn’t leave the temple soon.