Quest 09: Our Spirits, Kindred
Chapter 2 - Rest for the Weary
When Ariane is kidnapped and the signs point to Sliske, Jahaan is forced to confront the Mahjarrat once again. But this time, things take a turn for the twisted, and Jahaan uncovers the truth behind Sliske's obsession with him. Can Jahaan survive Sliske's games? After all, broken bones heal faster than a broken mind...
After leaving the Wizards' Tower, Jahaan was at a loss. Between Ozan's condition and Ariane's cutting words, his head was swirling. The effects of the pain relievers had also worn off, so he was fighting through the dull aching of his ribs, knowing there wasn't an apothecary in Draynor. Well, not one that he would trust, anyway, and he didn't want to get desperate enough to seek aid from the resident witches.
And so he just started walking. He didn't know what else to do. He walked on throughout the day and well into the evening, following the water's edge around Draynor Village. Since he was veering west, Jahaan settled upon Port Sarim as his destination, camping in a small clearing for the night. It wasn't as peaceful as when he did it in Catherby, mind. Jahaan was still too close to Draynor, and the constant grey clouds that draped over the town caused a constant chill in the air. On top of that, it took too long to find firewood that wasn't damp, and despite having his backpack with his small fishing net on him, all he was able to catch was a couple of tiny shrimp that barely did enough to sate his appetite. Rocks and sharp leaves dug into his back and exposed skin all night long, worsened by the amount he was tossing and turning from the aching of his ribs.
Utterly miserable, Jahaan left the next dawn with about an hour's sleep in his system.
Port Sarim had repaired the damage since his last visit there. In fact, you couldn't tell the port town had been subject to a dragonkin attack at all. The buildings had been fixed and the scorch marks long since painted over. He did recognise Patchy though, standing outside the bar and sporting a rather snazzy peg-leg. Those things were quite the fashion with pirates, after all.
Jahaan remarked to himself how it was nice to see the pirate back on his feet, but quickly regretted the poor choice of words.
Without even stopping for a drink, Jahaan took the first boat he could out to Catherby, revelling in the change of climate as he approached the pristine shores. It felt like eons ago when Jahaan mused to himself about settling down in Catherby. Right now, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more.
And so, after venturing slightly into the wooded area, he built himself a fire, readied his net to catch some more substantial fish, and breathed a sigh of relief as he realised the only sounds he could hear were the swishing of the waves and the low cry of distant seagulls.
The next day, Jahaan found Postie Pete and sent a letter to Ozan, wishing him well and saying how he'd be in Catherby for the foreseeable future. However, he never heard back. After two weeks, Jahaan managed to find Postie Pete and ask how Ozan seemed when he delivered the letter. It turned out that Ariane was taking in all of Ozan's mail, which explained why Jahaan wasn't receiving any correspondence.
"If you see him yourself, can you wish him well for me?" Jahaan asked with a lump in his throat. He didn't want Ozan to think he wasn't bothering to write to him, after all.
Instead, Postie Pete had been hurt at the thought of his mail being intercepted. Ariane said he'd give the letter straight to Ozan, and she'd lied.
"I'll do one better, mate," the skull rattled as its jaw bones knocked together. "You write another one, and I'll make sure to hand it to him personally this time. It's my honour and duty as a postman for the Gielinorian Postal Service to make sure every letter is delivered promptly and with integrity!"
Jahaan loved how seriously Postie Pete took his work - it was admirable. So, he took him up on his offer straight away, quickly writing out a new letter and placing it in the skull's mouth. Then, Postie Pete went on his way.
Regular correspondence returned between Jahaan and Ozan after that. Much to his relief, Jahaan heard that Ozan was recuperating rather well, enough to abandon bedrest. Still, he was too weak to do much other than bumble around the Wizards' Tower, to which he confessed his worst ailment was severe cabin fever.
They didn't even have booze there.
His burns has scarred over a fair bit, but they were still hurting him a great deal. Out of curiosity, he tried to draw back an old bow he'd found when wandering around in the basement. However, he barely got halfway to the bowstring being taunt before his muscles gave out and he couldn't take the pain anymore. The wizards had thrown around the idea of potential nerve damage and said that recovery would be a slow process, but with the right amount of rest and rehabilitation, he would be able to wield a bow again. From the outset though, it looked like Jahaan's ribs would heal long before Ozan's wounds.
Jahaan had already withdrawn his sword and armour set from the bank, trying to reaccustom himself to the weight and feel of it all. There was no longer an issue with donning the armour - his body could handle that after the many weeks that had passed - but the swords were still an issue. Wielding with his right hand was no problem, and he could spar and parry almost as good as he always could. His left side, however, was another matter. Each swing would lightly stab at him, gradually getting worse and worse. He couldn't practice for more than a few minutes at a time before the pain became too much.
So for now, duel wielding was out of the question, but he was optimistic about his recovery.
Jahaan wished he could say the same about Ozan. He wanted to go back and visit him, but thought better of it. Regardless of Ariane's feelings towards him, Ozan was getting good care in the Wizards' Tower and he didn't need anyone distracting him from that.
At least, that's what Jahaan kept telling himself.
In spite of it all, Jahaan couldn't picture himself leaving Catherby anytime soon. He'd gotten back into the routine of fishing for the majority of the day and selling what he didn't need to eat, accumulating a tiny sum as the days went on. It was calming, and he could pretend he wasn't the World Guardian for a while, as selfish as that may be.
But that calm was slashed into fragments when he saw Ozan get off the boat at Catherby dock.
Jahaan was just finishing up selling his surplus supply for the day and planned to stop for a drink or two at the port's pub. As the fishmonger was counting his coins, Jahaan casually observed the passengers disembarking the charter ship from Draynor, and had to do a double take when he saw a familiar figure coming his way. Dark quiffed hair, yellow and green tunic, bandages wrapping the exposed skin on his arms… there was no mistaking it.
Abandoning the merchant, Jahaan quickly rushed to intercept him, a grin as wide as the boat's sail. "Ozan!"
However, when he got close enough to lock eyes with the man, his grin vanished in a heartbeat.
"Jahaan! I'm so glad I found you," Ozan was breathless, his face red and his eyes bloodshot. He looked like… he'd been crying.
Pulling Ozan out of the path of people, Jahaan's concern flooded his tone as he urged, "Ozan, are you okay? What's wrong?!"
"I-It's Ariane!" Ozan sniffed. "She's been kidnapped!"
"What?!" Jahaan gasped, pressing Ozan for more information.
Trying to steady his breathing, Ozan explained, "W-We were visiting Draynor. I went into a store, she waited outside. There was a loud screech, and then she was gone! No-one really saw anything, it all happened so fast! B-But they said someone was taken the day before, too, by some vyre-like creature, or a large bird, or something, I don't know! I panicked, I didn't know what to do! S-So I came to you as fast as I could. They took Ariane, Jahaan!"
In an effort to calm down his hysterical friend, Jahaan pulled Ozan into a tight hug, assuring, "It's going to be okay. We'll get her back."
Pulling away, Jahaan asked, "Do you know anything else about these kidnappings? Anything that could help us?"
Ozan's voice turned dark. "Well, I heard that Relomia, the emissary of Sliske, was there when the other person was taken. She seemed… shocked."
"Sliske?" Jahaan blinked, confusion momentarily getting the best of him. Shaking those thoughts clear, he resolved, "Alright, we're going to Draynor right now to find out what she knows."
Unfortunately, Ozan had arrived on the last ship of the day, and there wouldn't be another one until the break of dawn. Luckily, Jahaan had built up quite a reputation with some of the ship's captains that he saw on a daily basis, and for double the fare, one of them agreed to sail throughout the night to land in Port Sarim by first light. Jahaan already had his armour and weapons with him, getting used to wearing it on a daily basis again, so they left immediately.
After arriving in Port Sarim the next morning, the two bribed a local fisherman to sail them across the short expanse of water between the port and Draynor Village. It cut down on hours worth of walking.
In Draynor, it was always night. Crows screamed incessantly, squawking bloody murder, becoming white noise to the villages residents. There was a reason house prices in Draynor were so low, and that's because those who pass through there generally don't want to do so again. Despite it being the nearest occupied settlement west of Lumbridge, the village's council isolated itself from politics of the surrounding towns and cities, providing for itself where it could to limit trade. No-one had ever seen these council members though; many speculated they were just a fabrication by the real power of Draynor, the occupant of the house on the hill. Draynor Manor was haunted, it was no small secret - the trees attacked anyone who dared approach the door. It is widely believed to be the final resting place of Count Draynor Draken himself. No-one had confirmed this for sure, because those who went inside Draynor Manor never returned.
Stalking through the paths leading them towards the dismal market square, Ozan and Jahaan kept their guard up, wary of the eyes following their every move.
Draynor didn't like outsiders.
It was behind the house of Aggie the Witch, the seller of clothing dyes, where Relomia was loitering.
The pair stormed up to her.
"All right, Relomia, start talking - what have you and Sliske done with Ariane?"
However, instead of the cocky response Jahaan was expecting, when Relomia turned around to face him, her eyes looked red and puffy, like she'd been crying. "Oh thank goodness! Jahaan, you have to help me! Sliske's been kidnapped!"
That… was not what he was expecting. "Come again?"
"It's the dragonkin!" she explained, breathless and sniffling. "I don't know what they did to him, but they found a way to strip him of his magic! He's powerless! He needs our help!"
Ozan shivered, gulping down the lump in his throat. "If the creatures that took Sliske also took Ariane..." he didn't dare to finish the thought.
Jahaan squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to regain some semblance of clarity inside his cluttered mind. "Okay, okay calm down… let's just take this one step at a time. I can see why the dragonkin would want Sliske - death to the False Users and all - but why would they take Ariane?"
"I don't know! But you have to get him back!" Relomia was practically begging. "And the Stone of Jas... my master's strong, but I don't know how long he can keep the location of the Stone a secret from them…"
Despite having a strong mind to tell Relomia that the dragonkin could keep that giggling, manipulative son of a bitch for all he cared, Jahaan knew he was over a barrel with this one; they had to get Ariane back, and Jahaan had seen firsthand the destruction the dragonkin could cause. If they utilised the power of the Stone…
Relenting, Jahaan announced, "Okay, if there's a chance the dragonkin took Ariane and Sliske, we'll try and get them back."
Relieved, Relomia leapt over to hug Jahaan tightly, colliding with his armour. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back until he was freed.
Straightening out his platebody, Jahaan cleared his throat and asked, "So what happened, exactly?"
Her shoulders sagging, Relomia replied, "I'm not sure. Sliske sent me a message from the Shadow Realm. He was surrounded by dragonkin and somehow stripped of his power. I know they haven't found the Stone yet, but it is only a matter of time."
The thought of facing off against dragonkin wasn't exactly something Jahaan was looking forward to. It only got worse after he inquired, "Do you know where they took him?"
"The last message Sliske sent me said he was in a dragonkin prison near Daemonheim."
Shoulders sagging, Jahaan was exasperated as he replied, "How do you expect us to get to Daemonheim? It's continents away!"
"Oh, right!" Relomia slapped her forehead before rummaging around in her napsack, eventually bringing out a small red and gold patterned ring. "This is a ring of kinship. It'll get you there in a jiffy. Just put it on and trace your finger over the patterns."
Ozan pulled out a similar ring from his pocket. "I'll meet you there."
From one awfully naff location to another, step right up: Daemonheim.
There was just so much SNOW.
In hindsight, a little more preparation wouldn't have gone amiss before teleporting to the wastelands. The castle protruded in the distance, a lumpy silhouette between the white mists and clouding fog. Beneath it, the dungeons of Daemonheim, floors upon floors of beasts, puzzles, mazes, traps and pitfalls. Beneath all that? Zamorak's current fortress.
Jahaan did not welcome the memory of being down there.
The pair walked among the ruins. Ghosts of dead warriors floated between the stones and broken statues. Some of these statues resembled dragonkin; it was widely believed that the location used to be home to a dragonkin lair, the lair of Kerapac specifically, but that was ancient history. Bilrach's construction of the dungeons beneath the castle seemed to cause a voluntary relocation. At least, that's what everyone thought. Perhaps they had kept some of their lair after all?
"Hey Jahaan, over there," Ozan pointed to a wooden trapdoor only partially covered by the snow. As the two trotted over, Ozan commented, "This wasn't here the last time I came by this area. Maybe this is the lair?"
Jahaan, on the other hand, didn't seem too convinced. "Hmm… I don't know… this looks like any regular trapdoor. Not very dragonkin-y, if you know what I mean."
"...Dragonkin-y?"
"I know, I know, but you hear what I'm saying, right?"
Ozan pondered this for a moment. "Maybe it's disguised?"
"Maybe…"
"It's still worth checking out," Ozan maintained, heaving the trapdoor open, sliding the snow off as he did.
Climbing down the ladder, the stone corridor was barely lit by more than a few candles scattered along the walls haphazardly. As it stretched far down into the darkness in both directions, the pair took their chances heading east.
"This seems pretty abandoned," Jahaan whispered. "I can't hear a thing."
Ozan nodded, biting his lip. "Do you think Relomia was confused?"
They made it to a crossroads, more corridors heading to the left and right, or they had the option to continue onwards.
"Maybe… maybe they're in the Shadow Realm?" Jahaan considered, coming to halt. He tried to focus on blurring the edges of this world and the Shadow Realm, as Sliske's gift had allowed, but before he could make any progress, a screeching scream came from their right, chilling them both to the core.
Jahaan slashed both of his swords from their sheaths, while Ozan tentatively removed his newly acquired bow from around his shoulders.
Gulping, Jahaan ventured, "S...Sliske?"
The sound of beating wings fast encroached on them, the glint of glowing red eyes zooming their way. It was fight or flight, and the former lost by a landslide. Instantly, Ozan and Jahaan took off running in the opposite direction, but it was too late. The creature caught up to them, there were screams, and then darkness…
When Jahaan opened his eyes, he was lying face down on a dirty concrete floor. From the lack of weight surrounding him as he tried to pull himself to his feet, he deduced that he'd been stripped of his armour and weapons.
"Congratulations, Janny. You 'saved' me from my own escape attempt."
Jahaan recognised that voice.
Nursing the back of his head, Jahaan could already feel the formations of a bruise. "Sliske? I got knocked out… what just happened? Where's Ozan?"
"Well, I was having a jolly old time making my getaway, before I got blocked by someone," Sliske chided, patronizingly. "Now we're in a slightly less escapable dragonkin prison, and our hosts have learned a thing or two since last time, so now the guard won't even talk to me. On the bright side, at least that means we can spend some quality time together!"
"Don't act so fucking cheerful," Jahaan snapped, whirling on Sliske, glad for the metal bars separating them. "Don't you remember how you left me in those tunnels? How you nearly throttled me to death?!"
"Ah, but only nearly, World Guardian," Sliske pointed out, raising his chin so dark lidded eyes looked down upon Jahaan. "You should do well to remember that. Besides, you killed Zemmy, so what does it matter?"
"Yeah, but your brother and I nearly got taken out in the process!"
"Wahi would never let an oaf like Zemouregal get the best of him," Sliske's chuckle had a sharp edge to it. "And you, you had really begun to test my patience. Be thankful I left you there."
"Thankful like I would be for a hole in my head," Jahaan muttered under his breath. Rubbing his aching temples, he was already regretting his decision to save this incorrigible fool. So, to prevent their conversation spiralling further down the rabbit hole, Jahaan wanted to get back on track. "So, the dragonkin - do they have the Stone yet?"
"Not right now," Sliske assured, nervously. It seemed as if he was just as happy with the change in topic. "But I've heard their mutterings… some of the things they've talked about doing to me, to make me reveal its location… it's gloriously disturbing. Sickeningly genius, in fact… but not when I'm on the receiving end of it."
"Well we can't let the dragonkin get their claws on the power of the Stone, and I need to find the others, so I'm going to try and find us a way out of here."
Sliske sighed, wistfully. "My hero!"
Jahaan shot him a look. "Shut up, or I'll change my mind."
Ignoring the chorus of chuckles that followed, Jahaan went about trying to examine his cell and the surroundings for any potential weakness to exploit. The dragonkin guard was staring blankly into the middle distance, not paying much attention to anything.
If I can get the guard to come over here, I might be able to pickpocket a key or a weapon, Jahaan thought, before grabbing onto his cell bars and angrily shouting out, "Hey! Scaly!"
Alas, the dragonkin ignored him.
"Hey, get over here!"
Again, he was ignored with not even a glance in his direction.
Sighing, Jahaan stepped back and reconsidered his options. Then, it came to him. Maybe I can't get him to come over here by myself, but I bet he'll break up a brawl between Sliske and I… with the added bonus that I get to punch Sliske in the face
Turning back over to Sliske, Jahaan gleefully, yet in a hushed tone, exclaimed, "Alright Sliske, I have an idea!"
"Great! Let's hear it."
"Okay, you have to let me punch you in the face."
"...I am now slightly less enthused about this plan…"
"Just hear me out," Jahaan insisted, explaining, "If we can brawl, the guard will hopefully come into the cells to break us up. That happens, and I can swipe a key or something to pick the lock."
Sliske's eyes lightened slightly at hearing the plan, but they were still narrow as he argued, "Riiiight, but how come you get to punch me in the face and not the other way around?"
"Because I don't trust you to pull your punches."
Sliske nodded, shrugging. "You know what? That's fair."
Reaching through the bars that separated them, Jahaan grabbed a fist full of Sliske's cloak and yanked him viciously, slamming the Mahjarrat's face into the steel, before throwing a fierce jab at him.
"Ow! That was right in the eye!" Sliske whined with a wince.
"Take that Sliske!" Jahaan growled, looking at the dragonkin out of the corner of his eye.
Seeing no response, he punched him again.
"Hey, what?! OW!" Sliske pulled himself free of Jahaan's grip and dabbed the back of his hand to his mouth. "I think my lip's bleeding!"
"He's not reacting," Jahaan fretted. "Maybe if I hit you again?"
Sliske countered, "Or maybe he'll react better to this!"
As quick as anything, the Mahjarrat reached through the bars, grabbed ahold of Jahaan's hair and slammed his head into the bars with painful force.
Laughing, Sliske surmised, "Well, looks like your plan didn't work after all."
After shooting Sliske a dirty look, Jahaan rubbed the side of his head and said, "I guess not, but I do have another idea."
"Good, but I'm not getting hit again."
"No need, yet," Jahaan assured with the flash of a crooked smile. "I've got another idea to get him over here. Watch this."
Walking over to the bars, Jahaan called out, "Hey you! Give us some food!"
Naturally, he was ignored, so he continued, "You know, I have an encyclopedic knowledge of nursery rhymes and a singing voice that can generously be described as 'grating'. I also have capacious lungs and endless stamina. In combination, these things can make guarding me… uncomfortable."
Now, the guard at least turned an eye in his direction after this worrying development.
Challengingly, Jahaan threatened, "Give me some food or I'll sing 'The Littlest Pyrefiend' at the top of my lungs on an endless loop."
"Do it, you fool!" Sliske begged, desperately. "He's not bluffing!"
With a grunt, the dragonkin went to fetch something from out of sight, then shuffled back over and slotted some grotesque looking food on a dirty plate through the bars, but too quickly to make a grab for the keys.
Seeing this, Sliske slumped against the wall. "You had one job…"
Jahaan contended, "I didn't get the keys, but I think I can make a tool or a weapon out of this plate, as long as you can distract the guard long enough."
"And how do you suppose I do that?"
Exasperatedly, Jahaan wearily replied, "I don't know, Sliske! Tell him a story, insult him, seduce him - use your imagination!"
His eyes wide, Sliske couldn't help but burst out laughing. "SEDUCE him? Seduce the dragonkin? My, you really are one saucy devil, Janny."
"Just do something, Sliske," Jahaan huffed. "I'm going to scrape this gunk down the drain."
Shrugging, Sliske walked up to the front of his cell, cleared his throat and started, "Might I say, dear dragonkin, that your scales look fabulous in this light..."
When he forced the food down the drain, Jahaan noticed it fizz and bubble into an indescribable, gruesome mess below. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.
"What now, Jahaan?" Sliske hissed from the corner of his mouth.
"Keep distracting the guard - I have an idea," Jahaan whispered. "The food I scraped into the drain is reacting with whatever's down there… if it's acidic or volatile I might be able to use it to melt through the lock."
Sliske gagged. "That's… vile, but I guess desperate times and all that."
Motioning for Sliske to get back to his distractions, Jahaan set to work. Firstly, he tried to sharpen the edge of the plate on a brick, but instead, the loose brick popped out of the wall and the plate broke in half.
Meanwhile, Sliske tried his luck with the dragonkin guard, who seemed to be growing increasingly uncomfortable. "I think there must be something wrong with my eyes, because I can't seem to take them off you."
Biting his lip, Sliske turned aside to Jahaan and whispered, "Can you hurry up with whatever whacky scheme you're trying? This place is making me stir-crazy, and I'm worried my attempts at flirting might actually be effective…"
Rolling his eyes, Jahaan worked to grind an edge into the plate half, turning it into a crude blade, one that, unfortunately, he quickly realised would be ineffective against the dragonkin. Then, he cut a strip of cloth from the bedding - even this caused the fragile blade to crack - and tied it to the piece of fallen brick, creating a legendary weapon of unparalleled destruction.
After crafting the ludicrous flail, he looked around the near distance to see if it could actually come in handy, or if all his DIY efforts had been in vain. When he saw the contents of the shelves next to Sliske's cell, he had an idea.
Motioning Sliske over, he stated, "I need you to get me that vial off the shelf over there."
"And how do you propose I do that?"
"With this," Jahaan presented him with the flail. Sliske did not look impressed.
"Really? This is the best the infamous 'World Guardian' can come up with?"
"Right now, yes. So just get on with it."
With an exasperated sigh, Sliske relented. "Fine, fine! Give me your ridiculous brick-on-a-rope and let's get on with this."
Visually locking onto his target, Sliske launched one end of the flail over the top of his cell bars and towards the potion. Miraculously, it lassoed its target, and once a tighter grip was applied, Sliske snapped it towards him and caught the potion as it flew through the air.
Jahaan couldn't help but be impressed as the vial was slipped into his hands. The dragonkin, on the other hand, less so. Irritated by the motions, it grumbled, stalked over to Sliske's cell, and threw the door open with a high pitched groan.
Edging backwards, Sliske held his hands up in defence. "Hey now, let's be reasonable and-"
A punch across Sliske's jaw cut the words from his throat. Cowering down, Sliske waited the beating out, hissing in pain with each strike. Fortunately, the dragonkin didn't seem to press about what Sliske was doing, and he didn't see the potion Jahaan was concealing behind his back. He also didn't notice Jahaan subtly reach through the bars separating them and snagging a pouch from his cloak pocket. Peeking inside, he noted it contained small, white crystals, ones that Jahaan recognised. However, the keys were unfortunately out of reach on the other side of the dragonkin's belt, but the crystals would do for now.
Some guard he is. Maybe he just fancied roughing Sliske up a little? Who could blame him.
Eventually, the dragonkin got bored and trudged away from the cell, leaving Sliske a bloodied and battered mess slumped against his cell wall.
"My face!" he picked himself up, wincing at the twinges of pain it induced. "Why is everyone hitting me in the face today?"
"Karma?"
Sliske shot him a look. "What was that, World Guardian?"
"Nothing, nothing...
Clutching his stomach, Sliske fumbled with a long and rough piece of fabric in his fingers. "In other news, I tore a strip of cloth from his robe. At least I can use it to bind my wounds."
Jahaan winced. "Actually, I might need that."
Sliske's shoulders sagged. "Might or do? Because, you know, facial wounds and such."
"I'm going to go with 'do'. Turns out the potion you swiped and the crystals I lifted from the dragonkin are reagents, which I'm pretty sure I can use to make acid in the latrine. And I need the strip to make a facemask to stop myself from inhaling deadly fumes."
"Well, look at you, the chemist," Sliske drawled. "You've been spending too much time with the druids in Taverley, haven't you? Well, fine, have the cloth, but this plan of yours better work."
After taking the cloth strip from a reluctant Sliske, Jahaan tied it around his mouth and nose. Carefully, Jahaan poured the potion into the latrine, causing the slop below to change into a vivid green. Into this mix he added the crystals, and everything began hissing and smoking, with the stone of the latrine pitting visibly around the 'water' level. From the way it was reacting, it looked like it would make short work of the lock, but Jahaan realised he needed something to get the acid out without burning his hand off.
Coughing violently, Sliske pressed himself against the far wall of his cell, trying to pull his robe up over his nose. "Are you brewing RUM over there, Jahaan?!"
"Not quite," the cloth strip wasn't as effective as Jahaan had hoped, and he was feeling rather lightheaded. "I hope the dragonkin can't smell this."
Picking up the empty vial, Jahaan held his breath and tentatively removed the cloth strip protection. Thankfully he didn't immediately knock himself out with the fumes, and in imitation of his amazing brick-on-a-rope, he tied the cloth strip around the neck of the bottle, ready to collect the acid. Dipping the bottle into the latrine, Jahaan filled it with acid and delicately pulled it out again. Just in time, too, as the cloth around the neck was eaten away to uselessness.
"I have the acid," Jahaan whispered, subtly showing Sliske the vial of corrosive liquid.
"Great, let's get out of here."
"Not yet - I need you to distract the guard one more time."
Sliske growled, sternly, "I am not getting punched again!"
A small smile tugging on his lips, Jahaan explained, "You don't need to antagonise him. Just take this plate and redirect the light at him. I don't think he'll come in here and attack you, he'll likely just look away to stop being annoyed. Besides, if he does attack you, I'll throw this vial of acid at him."
Jahaan had no intention of wasting the acid on saving Sliske from a beating, but the Mahjarrat bought it regardless.
With a huff, Sliske begrudgingly relented, "Fine, give me the plate."
With the plate half, Sliske angled it to use what meager light the room had to his advantage, casting a bright beam at the dragonkin guard. Annoyed, the dragonkin turned away.
"Well he doesn't seem to like being blinded," Sliske remarked. "And he hasn't come in here yet. So there's that."
"Huh. I didn't think that would actually work."
"So you thought he'd come to beat me again?"
"I thought it was seventy-thirty in favour."
"Thanks, Janny. Anyways, don't you have a lock to melt?
"Good point. Back in a second."
When Jahaan used the vial of acid on the cell door, the acid hissed quietly into the locking mechanism, which emerged from the bottom of the lock in a greasy, metal sludge. When his lock was no more, he handed the rest of the vial to Sliske, who proceeded to melt his lock in the same fashion.
"Sliske, let's get out of here. If we zig-zag around him, I bet we can dodge the guard. Or, maybe, we can get some more acid and throw it at him. Or perhaps we-"
Chuckling, Sliske interjected, "Slow down, Janny. You'll give yourself a stitch."
"Well, we're in a bit of a rush here," Jahaan hissed, nervously eying the guard. "We have to get Ozan and Ariane, and take the Stone back from the dragonkin!"
Straightening up, Sliske's demeanour changed. He seemed much calmer now. Worryingly so. "The hostages are fine, Jahaan."
"Sliske, what are you talking about, the dragonkin have them!"
Sliske raised an eyebrow. "Do they?"
"Yes, you told me they-" finally, it hit him. Jahaan's shoulders straightened, and his face went blank. "...and now I am on the same page. You lied to me."
"Oh yes," Slike smirked, smugly.
"The dragonkin don't have the hostages?"
"Nope. That isn't even a real dragonkin out there. It's just a wight in a costume."
Jahaan regarded the dragonkin once more. "It's a pretty elaborate costume."
"I know, right? I didn't even have to make it, he just had one!"
"And you were never kidnapped?"
"Nope," Sliske grinned. "I just grabbed a bunch of people for my scheme and got my fangirl to lure you in. And let me say, your performance was exemplary. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!"
Jahaan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Sliske, I am going to leave now."
"But what about the hostages, hm?" Sliske queried with a victorious undertone.
"You've had your fun, you got me here - now you can let them go," Jahaan's voice was an unsteady mix between a demand and a plea. There was a darkness behind Sliske's eyes, however, one that Jahaan recognised. It made him uneasy, set him on edge.
"Ah, I think I'll hang onto them for a little while longer. You see, I have a bit of entertainment in mind, and I fear my stellar company isn't quite enough of an incentive to make you stick around. Now, if we're quite finished, join me through that door and find out why I brought you here. Oh, and don't worry, all that precious armour Azzy so kindly gifted you is safe and sound; my brother's little humble abode is finally cluttered with something other than dusty tomes. I just needed to level the playing field, is all. All in the name of sportsmanship, I assure you."
With a click of his fingers, Sliske teleported away.
Leaning back against the cell wall, Jahaan exhaled deeply, regretting every single decision he'd made today. Except one. "Damnit Sliske… I'm so glad I punched you…"
DISCLAIMER:
As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.
