(A/N: Hmmm...haven't got much to say for a change. Thank-you Lissette, Coranth and Guan for reviewing last chapter. Here's more, and I'll be quicker about updating now that I've remembered the ancient Briarese secret that kept me updating so quickly before.
Disclaimer: I...DO...NOT...OWN...NEVERWINTER...NIGHTS, so says my Ouija board.)
Dependence I: Heartsinger
Chapter Eleven
Katriana let the sentence dangle dramatically.
Finally, Deekin ventured, "Umm...where be here, exactly?"
"You've been traveling with Daschnaya for the entire trip," Katriana returned. "Didn't she tell you?"
"To be honest, Katriana," Daschnaya broke in, "I don't know either." She sighed. "No one tells old Daschnaya anything, anymore."
Katriana rolled her eyes and told them, "We've come to a camp of Ao worshippers. Around here somewhere is the arc--"
"Ao?" Deekin interrupted. "That be God of Apathy, right?"
"Yes--" Katriana started.
"Great and powerful god that throw other gods out of heaven and makes them walk Toril, causing Time of Troubles?"
"Yes!" Katriana answered, exasperated. "Is there another Ao? No. Now let me finish."
"Sorries."
"Anyway," Katriana went on irritably, "around here somewhere is archaeology site where the man Drogan's students are looking for is. That's why we're here. Umbra and the other pupils are asking around the Ao encampment for directions to the site as we speak. I'm telling you this so you don't go running out into another sandstorm looking for her, kobold."
"Sorries, again."
"I'll be leaving now," Katriana informed them, climbing down the steps. "There's a lot of work to be done before we turn around and head back across the desert." She closed the door behind her. No sooner had she left, than Deekin promptly began gathering up his belongings and fitting them inside his pack.
"You are going out see Umbra again, no?" Daschnaya asked dryly as he worked.
"Yep," Deekin replied, carefully edging his notebook into the pack.
"Be careful," Daschnaya advised as he closed the flap over the pack's top. "You've already seen the dangers that follow Umbra--"
"Deekin not care," he insisted, tugging the pack and the strap of his lute over his shoulders. "The great hero keeps Deekin safe."
"That may be true," Daschnaya frowned, "but even she can't keep you safe from everything."
"Why you be so worried?" Deekin asked, turning toward the door. "Deekin just go out to see Boss, then me be right back, Deekin promises."
"Yes," Daschnaya relented. "Just remember what I forecast, and be careful."
"Deekin remembers," he assured, and left. The old halfling sat there ruminatively, absentmindedly stroking the cards she held in her wrinkled palm with one thumb. It was here that Deekin's adventures would truly begin, she knew; she would not see him again.
Deekin clambered out of the caravan, tripping on the last step and landing awkwardly in the sand. Getting to his feet, he checked his pack to make sure nothing important had broken this time--nope, nothing had--and when he checked his pocket the gift from Umbra was still whole. He admired the given gem's dark, faceted surface for a moment, as he had many times before, and knew it was a shard of some strange material. He doubted it was jet, onyx, ebony or obsidian, mostly because its sleek black surface was far from static. If he looked at it closely, its seemed to move. He couldn't see anything like that right presently, so he pocketed the shard and started off. He hadn't gone more than two paces, when Torias gave him such a dolorous look he had to stop again.
"Aye, so I guess you'll be off then, now that we're here," Torias sighed, leaning against the side of a caravan and shuffling his feet, kicking up a small sandstorm.
"Why halfling be so upset?" Deekin wondered.
"Oh, it's nothing... just that I'll miss you, is all," Torias reminisced. "You were a fine, fine companion to lighten up such a dreary trip, you know."
"What abouts the mean things you says about Deekin's stew?"
"Hey...I didn't say your stew was a fine, fine companion." Torias remembered what he'd been saying and resumed his dejected act. "It's my only hope, really, that you might deign to satisfy one last request from a good friend." Torias expelled an especially heavy sigh.
"Deekin do whatever he can," Deekin offered sympathetically.
"Well, here's the thing... it's nothing illegal or anything like that. Nothing that would cause you any real trouble, per se..." Torias drew it out for a moment, judging his words before continuing. "The Aoists in this camp make a fine, fine wine... most wonderful thing you'll ever taste outside of the elven vineyards. I'm not joking, either. I had a taste the last time we went through here." He smiled at the thought, then frowned deeply. "The thing is that they keep their wine for 'religious purposes' only. Bloody selfish bastards! They won't let me back in the camp now, even."
"They gots wine?" Deekin queried innocently. "Deekin never tries wine before. Does it makes you happy?"
"Very happy," Torias chuckled.
"Well that not sounds so bad, then," Deekin decided. "Deekin try to find wine for you."
"Now that's what I wanted to hear!" Torias whooped enthusiastically. "Woo-hoo!"
"Deekin should go now," the kobold reminded.
"Have fun!" Torias grinned, waving wholeheartedly after the reptilian as he left.
Despite what he'd said back in the caravan, Deekin was worried. He attempted to soothe his nerves by telling himself over and over that there was nothing to be troubled about: he was only to going out to the Ao worshippers' camp to talk to the Boss, and would come back when she did. Simple as that. So why couldn't he shake this antsy feeling? Daschnaya just had him worried, that was all, he told himself as he jogged along the sandy, twisting path to the Aoists' encampment.
When trying to reason with his concerns failed, he gave up and pushed them aside entirely by turning his mind to something else. Like...Ao. He had read a book once, of how Ao had cast the other gods out of the heavens after being angered, though by whom Deekin couldn't recall. The gods had been forced to walk Toril for an entire year; during this time--often called the Time of the Troubles--many of the gods had been killed and replaced, though his god, Kurtulmak, had survived. Deekin imagined Kurtulmak as a kobold, darting beneath the feet of the taller, more powerful gods, keeping his wits about him to remain alive. The idea amused him; then he thought of Vecna, Umbra's god.
The God of Secrets, Vecna was usually depicted as a lich missing his left eye and left hand. The thought of that skeletal, mutilated figure wandering Toril sent shivers up Deekin's spine. There were many names for Vecna, none of them pleasant--the Maimed Lord, the Whispered One, and the Master of All That Is Secret and Hidden. Did Umbra really worship him? Or was there another reason she wore a robe enchanted by that abominable deity? That had to be the case; the great hero could never follow something so evil as Vecna. Of course, now that Deekin thought about it, his own god was also evil. Now might be the time to consider following another god--maybe Ao, who was obviously the most powerful of gods. Perhaps one of the Aoists could help him decide.
Speaking of Aoists, he was about to enter their camp now. A wooden fence surrounded the place, a barbed gate the only means of entry. To be able to spend all this wood in the desert someone must be very rich, Deekin observed.
Standing just in front of the gate was the guard, a dark-haired young man in red-and-brown armor. He looked tired, weathered and thirsty, but gripped a plain quarterstaff tightly in his hands and stood in spite of his fatigue. As Deekin approached, the guard pressed the end of his quarterstaff against the kobold's ribs to keep him from going any further.
"Ho there, kobold," he commanded sternly. "What's your business here?"
Drawing back a little and rubbing the sore spot where the quarterstaff had been, Deekin replied, "Deekin be looking for Boss. You sees her?"
"That depends," the guard answered. "What does she look like?"
Deekin thought a moment. "Well, she be very tall, not talks much, gots very dark skin, wears hood--"
"I've seen her," the guard responded. "She just went through this gate--"
"--and she be great, great hero, who go on grand adventures, and slays horrible beasts--" Deekin went on.
"Okay, kobold. I got it," the guard interrupted.
"Sorries. Uh, you lets Deekin through the gate, maybe?"
"I dunno. How do I know you won't cause trouble?"
"Uhh..." As Deekin struggled to plead his case, Dorna poked her head through a gap in the wooden fence.
"The kobold's with me," she said, then pulled her head back in and walked off.
"Oh, so you're traveling with Drogan's students!" the guard smiled brightly, heaving open the barbed gate. "Sorry about that, you can go in." Silently thanking Dorna, Deekin did just that.
The Aoist camp, on the other hand, was far from silent. The Ao worshippers--who came in all shapes and sizes--constantly chattered among themselves, congregated in prayer groups or walking as they discussed the meaning of True Apathy. Only a few of them managed to meditate amid the noise. So involved were they in their religious findings, in fact, they didn't even notice the kobold scurrying about their camp and asking if anyone had seen a tall, hooded figure. Someone finally pointed him to a woman named Jasmeena who--though hooded--was definitely not Umbra. Deekin would have asked her if she'd seen Umbra, but Jasmeena was busy tending to a small garden of frail green plants, and the lithe spotted leopard at her side didn't look friendly. Instead, Deekin turned and skittered away toward the temple--he might as well see if he could get some wine for Torias while he searched.
For all the money put into building the fence and gate, the temple itself was nothing special--just a plain stone structure, and a small one, at that. In fact, when he got in, there were only a few inhabitants, kneeling in prayer before a priest who closed his eyes and read sermons aloud from his own mind. Deekin lingered indecisively, unwilling to disrupt this holy session--then caught sight of a large barrel, resting upon a table and surrounded by tankards filled with liquid that smelled of aged fruit, and could only be the Ao wine. Deekin trepidly inched closer to the table, weighing the rights and wrongs of the situation in his head. Torias really wanted the drink, and surely it couldn't hurt--but no, Deekin admonished himself, stealing was wrong. He'd already helped steal the artifacts, and he'd resolved not to steal again. He faced away from the table, true to his vow.
The priest was done with his preachings, the worshippers clasping their hands together in private prayer to Ao. Noticing this, Deekin scampered over and struck up a conversation with the priest.
"Hello!" Deekin beamed.
"Welcome to the humble abode of we few followers of Lord Ao," the priest greeted kindly, seemingly oblivious of the other speaker's species. Appreciative of this, Deekin suddenly remembered what he had been intending to ask earlier, and asked it--right after asking if the priest had seen Umbra, which he hadn't.
"Deekin wants to follow Ao, maybe," he started. "How Deekin does that?"
"There is a test of wisdom to see if one has the right state of mind," the priest said to the kobold. "Then you must only follow your own path to seek the great god. There is no dogma to practice, here."
Deekin liked the sound of this. "Can Deekin take that test?"
"If you wish," replied the priest. "Taking the test does not make one a follower unless that is your wish. Nothing is forced on anyone by Ao."
Again, Deekin liked the sound of this new god. He indicated that he'd like to take the test, so the priest recited a riddle:
"Lighter than air, heavier than the mountains, longer than a river, shorter than a breath, without end, yet always finished. What am I?"
Normally, Deekin considered himself to be apt at solving riddles and puzzles, having read pages of them back in the Nether Mountains. This one seemed to have many answers, though, and he racked his brain for the best one.
"Light."
Deekin jumped at the voice, spinning around to see Umbra standing behind him. The priest was delighted with Umbra's answer.
"Light! What magnificent insight! I do believe that is the best answer I have ever heard," the priest commended her.
"Could it be possible?" one of the worshippers wondered, looking up from his prayers. "Could this be the one we have been waiting for?"
"Yes, yes, it must be her!" a female worshipper cried. "This is what we have sought!"
"I... I suppose it could be," murmured a third. "It was a very good answer, after all."
"What you be talking about?" Deekin asked quizzically, Umbra remaining silent and unmoving all the while.
"You are the avatar, the incarnation of our god," the female worshipper said delightedly to Umbra, whose apathy only seemed to encourage her. "You are Ao!"
"Wh-what?! Wait now, what are you talking about?" the priest blustered, alarmed. "This is not Ao!"
"Yes she is! I can sense her power now!" the devout woman insisted, turning to Umbra once more with starshine in her eyes. "My Great Lord, thank you for coming to us!"
"Deekin always think Boss be god," Deekin remarked excitedly, thoroughly convinced. "Now Deekin knows for sure!"
"Praise heaven, you have come to us at last!" one worshipper sobbed happily. "How would you like me to beat myself for your worship, Holy Ao?"
Umbra said nothing. She simply turned and walked out of the temple, much to the priest's relief. The worshipper began banging his head loudly on the floor--whether out of frustration or desire to please Ao, Deekin did not know. Nor did he care; he just ran out of the temple, intent on catching up to his hero.
Umbra was waiting for him outside, a dark figure cut out of a bright sky. As soon as he arrived, she began briskly striding away from the place, Deekin close behind.
"So you be great god, Boss?" Deekin cried. "Deekin just knew--"
"This one is no god, Deekin," Umbra said bluntly, hands outstretched and empty, her swords tucked away in their scabbards.
"Oh, sorries. Goddess."
"No," Umbra corrected. "I am no more a deity than you are."
"Oh," Deekin realized, then grinned sheepishly. "Deekin guesses he got a little carried away." He paused. "Since we be talkings 'bout gods...does you worship Vecna?"
"What leads you to assume this?" Umbra inquired stolidly.
"Well, you wears robe of Vecna," he pointed out.
"That is the base of your reasoning?"
"Yep...so, does you?"
"No, this one does not. This one wears this robe for its...arcane properties."
"Oh. So then, who does Boss worship?"
"No one," she told him. "No one at all."
---
Umbra was quiet again, so Deekin fell silent as well, bringing his notebook, quill and inkwell out of his pack to record this latest escapade. The din of the camp and the padding of their footfalls kept the noise from entirely fading away.
Eventually, Deekin returned his writing supplies to his pack and saw that they had left the camp, which didn't seem to have a back fence--something Deekin wished he'd known earlier.
"Where we be goings, Boss?" he asked Umbra.
"We are bound for the archaeology site," she answered.
"You gets directions?"
"Yes."
"Okays, Boss." He smiled to himself. God or no, he was thrilled to be with the Boss again.
(And so ends Chapter Eleven. I hope you enjoyed it. I hope you review.)