Yasha stretched her legs, and frowned at Cavallas. The Boatman had returned as promised, and without word of payment agreed to take them to the Isle of the Maker. Her attempts to get him to say what sort of creature he was had been in vain, and she feared to pry too much, as they still had need of his services. Not knowing what sort of creature he was, nor much on his powers or true motivation bothered her. Still, there was little to be done about it.
Deekin sat in the center of the boat. A small glow stone lit his area brightly while he worked intently on his notes. The scratch of his pen and low drone as he mumbled to himself were barely audible above the angry waters outside the boat's hull. His scaly brow was furrowed in concentration as he wrote and rewrote sections of text.
Yasha turned her attention on Valen. He sat very still near the stern of the boat, his ice blue eyes unfocused as he gazed, unseeing, over the river's waters. She chewed on the things both he and the Seer had said over the last two days, before finally addressing him.
"Valen?"
His gaze sharpened as he turned and focused on her.
"Something has been bothering me, and I was hoping you would have some thoughts on the matter. I made some attempts to get to know some of the drow troops this morning," she began slowly.
He arched an eyebrow out her. "Oh?"
Yasha grimaced. "Yes. It went about as well as you might imagine. The Seer's followers were polite enough but... Well, I don't get the impression that many of the others wanted to give me the time of day." His wan smile told her he was very familiar with the problem she had encountered. "Forgive me for asking," she continued, "but I'm curious. How do the drow feel about your leadership?"
He tilted his head at her thoughtfully. "I am not sure. Those who follow the Seer accepted me readily enough for her sake, but the others... they despise any creature who is not drow, themselves. I am no exception."
Yasha nodded knowingly and sighed. "Doesn't that make your job more difficult?"
"It did. For a time." A slight smile played across Valen's features. "I have a way of convincing even drow that my orders bear listening to. Strangely enough, I do not think my leadership would have been possible were it not for my demonic heritage." As if suddenly realizing his error, he stopped short and looked at her warily. "You... know what a tiefling is?"
His sudden concern ignited an impish desire in her to tease him, but she fought the urge down. "Yes, I do," she replied simply.
He nodded, his look troubled. "And... my demon's blood does not bother you?"
She tilted her chin up and met his eyes earnestly. "I judge a man by his actions, not his blood."
His smile was slow in response, as if her answer was one he was not accustomed to. "Thank you, Yasha. I... appreciate that."
She returned his smile and nodded for him to continue.
"Now where was I? Oh, yes. The drow respected the part of me that was infernal, I think. I have a temper that some call frightening, and they did not have to see much of it for word to get around. That gave them respect enough that they didn't resist when I assumed command during our first... engagement with the Valsharess." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Three months ago. It feels like forever."
Yasha narrowed her eyes at him. It seemed the memory of his assumption of command gave him no pleasure. "It didn't go well?"
"There is no good word for the way drow commit warfare. It is not two armies on the open field, clashing in a battle of arms." He paused, obviously searching for words. "It is as if... two great shadows silently meet. A fleet of assassins and dark magic seeking the throat of the opponent. We weren't prepared for that first battle, and the Valsharess outnumbered us in every way. We lost three allied houses and the Seer's chosen General before I was able to drag the army into retreat."
She leaned back against the side of the boat as he spoke, trying to imagine the battle he described and the catastrophic losses it would have entailed. "You probably saved them, then. I'm impressed."
He stopped, considering her words, and finally nodded. "It... has not been easy. There has only been defeat after defeat, but I kept us alive. That is something."
She nodded her agreement. "Against such odds, it certainly is."
"So we ran," he continued, looking pensively out at the water. "I kept us together as much as I could, and the Valsharess nipped at our heels until we were out of drow territory almost entirely. Even in Lith My'athar we are not safe. It is a temporary respite until the Valsharess finishes us off, as the Seer told you. That is why we are so desperate. Few have hope as the Seer does."
Yasha chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. The back-biting, the sour looks, the matron's daughter all made a kind of sense, given that recent history. "That explains quite a bit, unfortunately."
He glanced meaningfully at her. "I've kept them alive and on the run since that first battle, but only barely. I would truly hate to see them... come to harm." With that he turned away abruptly, obviously intent on ending the conversation.
Yasha, however, was not in the mood to let it end that way. "And what is THAT supposed to mean?"
He looked at her side-long, but merely frowned slightly in answer. From his position between them, Deekin looked up sharply from his notes.
"No, Valen. Don't give me that look. I'm not going to drop this. I'm tired of this constant mistrust surfacing. As a paladin, I'm not accustomed to..."
"Perhaps," he snapped, his eyes still on the dark waters, "your paladin-hood is part of the issue."
"What?" she replied, startled.
Valen's voice was low, and the gaze he turned back on her was cold once more. "Perhaps it is because I've encountered too many paladins that I do not trust you. Perhaps it is because I know what paladins are like."
"Oh, really?" she growled in return. "And what, exactly, are paladins like, pray tell?"
Deekin began to gather up his notes.
Valen crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Arrogant. Self-righteous. Close-minded. Judgmental." He punctuated every word with the smack of his tail on the deck, his voice rising in volume as he spoke. "I know enough of paladins to know they think nothing of betraying those they have deemed Evil, and they seem to mark most of the rest of world as such. Need I go on?"
"Please do," Yasha snarled from between gritted teeth. "I wouldn't dream of keeping you from telling me how I am."
"That's not..." Valen glared at her a moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "You make no effort to hide your disdain and disgust of most of the drow in Lith My'athar. I have only known you for a few days. How do I know you will not deem the loss of this encampment a greater good? How much is it the geas that keeps you aiding us? That keeps you from striking down the evil you no doubt see there? What past trespasses have you already committed?"
Yasha seethed for several heartbeats before she could find her voice. "And why do you assume I have done something already?" she hissed.
"You spoke of an oath. A penance to serve those of other goodly faiths. Tell me, what did you do to require such a penance? Harass some hapless peasants? Strike down an innocent priest?"
Yasha leapt to her feet, her hands balled into fists. "How dare you? How DARE you accuse me of such a thing?!" She equally ignored the way the boat shifted uneasily beneath her, and Deekin scurrying off to the side. Her eyes and attention were fixed solely on Valen.
"My lady," he snarled, his hostile tone belying the respectful words. "Sit down before you capsize the boat."
She clenched and unclenched her hands. Part of her knew his words were likely true, and it would be wisdom to sit, but she didn't feel much like being wise and definitely didn't feel like doing anything he told her to. "Do you really believe I've done something like that?"
Valen stood slowly. "I said sit down," he growled, reaching out a hand towards her shoulder.
Yasha angrily smacked it away. "No! I will not!"
Yasha's paladin sense sprang to life with shrill alarm as Valen's eyes glowed red and his lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. His whole body tensed, and she felt that intangible aura of otherworldliness that usually hung about him thicken into near violent menace. With obvious effort, Valen managed to contain himself to speaking, though his voice was a low rumble. "Would you toss us all into this damned water? By the pits of Hell, woman, sit down!"
Yasha lowered her head, keeping eye contact even as she braced herself. Her heart hammered in her chest, though she couldn't calm herself enough to tell for sure whether it was from anger, fear or something else altogether. "You may have intimidated the drow with your temper, Valen Shadowbreath, but if you think you'll do the same with me, you'd best think again."
Valen's tail lashed back and forth violently, and his words came in short bursts, each one punctuated by a low growl. "I am not trying to intimidate you."
"Then answer my question! Do you really believe I've done something like that?"
They eyed each other, face to face, so close that Yasha could feel each harsh breath he took on her skin and see the faint tremble in his frame. With each breath, however, the trembling faded, as did the unnatural red glow of his eyes. Despite being so close, when he did respond his voice was so low she could barely hear it. "If not, then why are you doing penance?"
Yasha continued to stare hard into his eyes for several more heartbeats. "Because that is what all who serve Torm must do," she growled. "Because my order was indeed once led by people like you describe. And because Torm had to teach them the true meaning of the word 'sacrifice' to redeem them. It is a penance for THEIR actions, and a constant reminder not to repeat their mistakes."
Valen's breath caught in his throat, and the red glow faded completely from his eyes. He closed them then, and looked away. Yasha was in no mood to let him retreat to silence.
"Service. Honor. Loyalty. These virtues, these oaths, I don't just obey them. I believe in them with every fiber of my being. And if I fail to uphold them," she said, her voice rising again. "Then I not only would understand if you took me to task, I would expect it. Tell me how I've been disloyal or unfaithful in anything, and I will apologize." She crashed her fist into her other hand for emphasis. "On bended knee I will apologize. To you," she said, poking her finger into his chest plate. He tensed for a moment when she touched him, but kept his face averted and made no other move. "To the Seer. To anyone else you name that I have wronged," she added, swinging her arm wide.
She lowered her voice again, trying vainly to get her anger under control. "But do not accuse me of things I have not done. No more veiled accusations and vague doubts based on what other people I've never met might have done. I swear to you Valen, I will do without your aid rather than deal with them."
He continued to look away from her. He stood very still. Even his tail was motionless, tucked tightly against his leg. Yasha had time to take several deep breaths, trying to calm herself, before he turned back to her at last.
"Will you sit down now?" he asked quietly, in a firmly controlled voice.
She growled, an inarticulate explosion of frustration, before turning her back on him and planting herself on her seat in the prow of the boat. She remained that way, arms crossed, until they arrived on the Isle of the Maker many hours later. She said not a word the whole time.
--
"Oh! A solid blow," Enserric cried. And so it was. The mechanized creature tossed its bull head once as the glowing sword pierced its chest. The creak and groan of its metallic joints echoed in the hallway as it staggered back and fell to its knees, pulling itself free of the blade. The magical light in its eyes flickered and died as it finally collapsed to the floor.
"Huzzah! And the heroes are victorious once again!"
Yasha smiled wanly at Deekin. Enserric had been correct. Whatever enchantment the blade had, it was much more effective against the golems than she remembered Duty being. That was a good thing, too, for as they explored the first level of this tower, they had fought more golems than she had thought possible to collect in one place. She'd never heard of so many of the magical constructs gathered together before. "Where are they all coming from?"
"It's only to be expected that we should find a large number of golems in the tower of someone known as The Maker from his skill at the craft, though I will admit that I did not expect quite this many either," Valen replied.
She grunted in response, but didn't look at him when he spoke. She didn't feel like it. Instead she led them further down the hall and opened another door, braced for what guardians they might find. The brightly lit room was silent, however, and instead of guardians it was filled with shelves upon shelves of books.
"Do you know what this is?" Enserric exclaimed.
"My first guess would be a library," Yasha replied dryly.
"Of course it's a library, you dolt. But it's not just ANY library. It is a library of a master craftsman of magical constructs. Can you imagine what kinds of information might be here, just waiting to be found?"
Deekin pushed himself past her and through the doorway, his eyes wide. "Lots and lots of stuff on golems, Deekin be thinking."
"We must stop and see what kinds of books he has," Enserric declared.
Yasha narrowed her eyes at the packed shelves. "Why? We're here to speak to The Maker, not loot his library."
"Look around, Boss? This tower be ruins. Deekin thinking he's not living here anymore." He paced through the aisles, eyeing the books greedily.
"Besides," Enserric added. "You're already decimating his defense force. Don't you think he will be a bit more upset about that?"
"You never know about mages and their books," Yasha replied. "And the golems are hardly my fault. I'm just defending myself." She glanced back out the hall at the crumpled form of the minotaur-like construct, and the bits of metal that had come loose from its body during the fight and now littered the floor. "I do hope he doesn't mind the mess, though."
Despite her words, Yasha stepped in to the quiet room and peered around curiously. Bright white torches lit the room, though she suspected strongly that they burned purely on magic and wouldn't leave as much as a smear on any page of paper in the library. Though Drogan had made sure she read on many subjects and several languages, most of the books perched on these shelves were completely indecipherable to her.
"Hold me up higher," Enserric demanded. "I want to get a good look at them!"
Yasha sighed, but began to sweep the blade up and down the bookshelves as she walked by. After a couple of aisles, the sword suddenly jumped in her hands, smacking the bade firmly against one of the books.
"This one! Get this one!" Enserric urged.
"Enserric, we don't have time for me to hold a book up in front of you and turn the pages so you can read," she huffed.
Valen's voice interrupted before the blade could respond. "Yasha! There is another..."
His voice faltered to a stop. He stood in the doorway, his eyes focused down the hallway, looking first puzzled then alarmed.
"Come quickly," he hissed. She moved to join him, but was jerked back by her sword arm.
"Grab the book first," Enserric demanded.
"We don't have time for this Enserric."
"Just grab it."
Yasha was just considering how much effort it would take to pry him away from his chosen tome when a scaly hand reached up and snatched the book out from under the blade.
"Come on, Boss!" Deekin said, scurrying under her arm and towards the door. She rolled her eyes, sighed again, and joined them. Wordlessly, Valen motioned down the hallway as soon as she arrived. Her eyes followed his gesture until they rested on what held his attention.
Another golem had arrived, though it was very different from the stone and metal creatures they had been fighting. Its arms and legs were spindly, and its body lean. Fiercely shining eyes watched them steadily as it knelt over the fallen form of the golem they had just destroyed. Grotesquely huge and thin hands lay with odd gentleness over its companion's side. Both forms glowed eerily in the poorly lit hallway. Yasha wasn't certain what it meant, but she surely didn't like it.
She liked it even less when the fallen golem twitched, and then started to pull itself back off the floor.
"This explains the endless horde we have been facing," Valen commented dryly. "It seems we have merely been fighting the same golems over and over."
"Well, then," Yasha replied grimly, "we know finally what we need to do to stop them for good."
She raised Enserric, who glowed with an electric violet light, and strode out into the hall. The bull-headed golem snorted, and bellowed a mechanical challenged that echoed off the walls. Behind it, the newcomer stood impassively, its only sound a croaked pair of cryptic words.
"Sinth Thesti!"