Chapter Twelve
Ari sat barefoot in the tower's garden as she wove her druidcraft around the shaded grassy patch. Colorful flowers sprung to life at a wave of her hand and bloomed brilliantly in the morning sun. Throughout her dreadlocks sprouted tiny flowers and sprigs melding her peacefully into the scene. Off to her left under the shade of a tree lounged Riri the ranger against her giant tiger Onika, who was splayed out under the tree. Reaching up Riri gently rubbed the scruff of Onika's neck causing the large cat to purr. Riri smiled as she thought to herself. It had been a long while since she had the pleasure of any company besides Onika. This having been the last party she travelled with she already didn't recognize some of the faces. This druid for example, Riri thought. Ari had supposedly come before her in the party and died, but then here she was again, presumably back from the dead and rejoining the party after Riri's departure. She liked her, this peculiar little elf maiden. In all her exploration throughout the jungle Riri had only encountered elves of Ari's stature and complexion a few other times. They were a small clan of brown elves, whoever they were, probably a type of wood elf.
Crom was out gathering information around the slums, trying to find out where the cult was hiding. Everything was at a stand still until he returned with word of where to find the cult. It was a good opportunity to get to know some of these new faces.
"So Ari, where are ya from," asked Riri as she fiddled with a large leaf in her hands.
"From de northern jungle, a small druid circle up dat way," Ari replied while still weaving druidic magic. She was focused on her task and barely noticed Riri's presence.
"Are dey all like you dere? Dark complexioned an small in stature?" Riri sat up, Onika stirring as she came off of her.
"Suppose so," thoughtlessly replied Ari as she finished her spell weaving and turned to regard Riri. "Parents were killed by dinosaurs when mi were young, so de circle raised mi. De circle were a mix ah all different type ah people."
"I was orphaned as well at a young age. Grew up in de jungle under de tutelage of a local ranger dat used to do side work for de merchant princes here in Port Nyanzaru," replied Riri looking down as she played with the leaf in her hand.
"We ah alike, you an mi," stated Ari, "two kindred spirits raised in de jungles ah Chult witout parents. Dis group is fortunate ta ave us both. Will ya stay afta we take out de cult?"
Riri set down her leaf and thought for a moment. She was enjoying the company of others as well as some of the comforts that the tower afforded. "I've not dismissed de idea but I'll ave to think about it more before I decide." She glanced over to Onika and smiled. "My first priority is always Onika, so whateva she wants is likely what I'll do."
Cotton called out as he walked up to the two ladies in the garden, his prosthetic leg clanking as he walked. He was dressed in traveling clothes that clashed with his pink and green wild hair. As he drew closer he said with a twang, "Well if it isn't the two most beautiful flowers in the garden." He smiled at them. "I really like what you're doing with the place, Ari."
Ari smiled and blushed a little bit. Cotton always did have a kind word to say and she had missed that about him travelling with them. "Afta mi flower de garden mi gonna use mi magic ta erect a small hut fe mi self out ere," she told the gnome. "If mi ave ta be in de city den mi'd like ta ave mi own sanctuary ere at de tower."
Cotton nodded in acknowledgment as he glanced over to Riri and her big cat. "Rori! Nice to finally have met you. I've heard a lot about you already."
"It's Riri," she said with aloofness. "Or Raziri if ya cyan't remember me nickname."
"Oh I'm terribly sorry Miss Raziri. I'm just horrible with names sometimes," Cotton quickly replied, blushing a little himself now. "Somehow I got it in my head that your name was Rori and I apologize. What is your tiger's name?"
Riri sat up to engage with the gnome. Placing a hand on Onika's chest she said, "Dis is Onika, my faithful companion an truest friend. She is fierce in combat an loyal to a fault. As long as ya good wit me, ya good wit Onika."
"Dat's comfortin ta know," said Ari as she stood from her place in the grassy patch. She walked slowly around and admired her work, stopping to smell some of the flowers.
"Are those permanent?" Cotton asked in his twangy draw. He leaned forward to smell one of the flowers, folding his arms behind his back as he did so.
"Dey ah permanent," Ari replied without looking back to Cotton. "Dis be one ah de many skills dat makes druids de keepas ah de forests an jungles." She gently fluffed the petals of one of the blooms before moving on to the next.
"Well I gotta say, I'm excited for us all to travel together again, some of us for the first time," Cotton said as he stepped away from the flower looking to Riri. "It's been a long while since I've done any adventuring. It'll be nice getting back into my old armor." The gnome smiled thinking back to his glory days, back when he'd first arrived in Port Nyanzaru with Samash as his charge and of being the one in fights to draw aggression from the enemy. He was good at that. With his dual shields he was hard to hit and often surprised his foes when he used the shields as weapons, smashing and stunning his enemies.
"I agree," said Riri. "It'll be nice ta travel wit de group again an work together as a team." She ran a slender dark hand through her loose curls. "I didn't realize until I arrived dat I miss de company of dis group as well. For all my time spent alone with Onika in de jungle it's easy to forget how much joy one gets from travelin wit friends."
"Mi would like ta see us doin less ah dis stuff," Ari said. "Seems like de stronger we get de more challengin ah foes get." She held one of the flower blooms in her hand by the stem as she stared down at it. "Mi would be appier doin tings like dis somewhere in de jungle, mi tink."
"Nonsense, Ari," clapped Cotton. "You are a valuable member of the team, always have been. We can't do what we do without you." He walked over to her and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. She smiled softly and looked down at him.
"Try not ta get mi killed dis time, okay?" she remarked with a smirk and a chuckle. Cotton winced and laughed lightly, nodding his head.
A lonely old man sat at an empty table in the bustling bar. It was dimly lit with loud raunchy conversation going on all around him. In a booth to his left sat several dark robed men talking over mugs of mead. On the old man's table rest an ear trumpet, indicating the man was hard of hearing. The robed figures spoke freely and didn't concern themselves with the old man.
"What is taking so long for these assassins to kill this Oakdell Circle group?" one of the robed figures lamented. "How hard can it be to kill a small group of murder hobos?"
"You forget, Brother Francis, that this is a group that defeated the all-powerful Devourer. Disposing of them will be no easy task." Brother Franklin took a sip of his mead before continuing on. "Word is we've already had at least three assassins fail."
Brother Osiris chimed in next. "What if we were to up the bounty? More platinum might attract a higher caliber of assassin to the job."
"And just where do you propose we come up with more money from, Brother Osiris?" snapped Brother Geoffrey from across the table. "We're already nearly draining our coffers for the bounty that is currently out."
A waitress came over to the table of robed men and they quickly went quiet. She asked if they'd needed anything else and they shooed her away impatiently stating that they were leaving soon. With a huff she turned away and went to the old man's table, the elderly gentleman placing his ear trumpet up to his ear to hear her. When she asked him if he needed anything he kindly smiled and shook his head no, sliding her five gold coins as a tip. She smiled and graciously took the coins, skipping off. The old man slowly stood from his table, knocking his ear trumpet off his table and under the table of the robed men. Gingerly he moved to the table of men and carefully interjected.
"Excuse me, sirs, I've seemed to have dropped my hearing device," he said as his body shook with old age. "Could one of you kindly retrieve it for me? It slid under your table."
With an annoyed look Brother Francis bent down from his seat to peer under the table. With his foot he drug the object towards him until he could pick it up. Handing it to the old man he sneered. "Next time be more careful with your things," he scolded the old man as the gentleman put the trumpet up to his ear. "We're not the types you should be fooling with. Now get gone." Brother Francis abruptly turned away from the old man and back to his group as if the old man was never there.
The old man shuffled to the door and slipped out, quickly turning the corner into the dark alley that ran alongside the tavern. With quick steps that betrayed his old age the old man moved into the shadows and towards a set of crates stacked against the tavern. Pulling out a backpack from behind them he set it down on one of the crates and began to pull off his shabby robes, altering his shape as he pulled the garment over his head.
When the robe came off he stood there in his black pants and boots, his face now younger and rugged, his hair receding from his forehead, his muscles defined and toned like those of a tradesman. The man pulled a new garment out of his backpack and pulled it on, a dark red tunic and brown leather smock that he tied in the back. Stuffing the shabby robes into his pack the changeling pulled his pack onto his back and took up a spot in the alley where he could see the door to the tavern. There he waited patiently for the robed men to come out so he could follow them. He had determined that these were the cultists he needed to find. Now he just needed to tail them to find out where they stayed.
Goilon stood in one of the now empty rooms of the tower, looking around and surveying the space for adequacy with what he planned to do with it. Kuku came up beside him, ruffling his feathers as he stopped alongside the dwarf. "What ya doing?" asked the kenku to the dwarf. "Planning out a room for yourself?"
"Nae," responded Goilon, "I'm lookin ta see if this space would work as an armory for us. If we're going ta be based out of here better ta have something like an armory than not have it."
"That's a really good idea," said Samash as he walked in. "I think this room would be perfect for it, especially because of its location in the tower."
"That was my first thought, lad," said Goilon. "You've got ta think strategically with weapons an arms. We could also keep a lot of the extra weapons and armor we find along our journeys in here. Anyone know how ta build shelves?" He stroked his braided beard thoughtfully as he looked around the room planning where the shelves would go.
"I'm pretty handy with a hammer and nails," replied Kuku with a bit of enthusiasm. "I haven't built anything in years but you never forget. I used to help build stage sets when I was an entertainer."
"And I'm pretty good at felling trees and cutting them down to planks. When I lived with my orcish family we used to move around a lot so we'd always be building things. New homes, furniture, you name it," said Samash as his memory drifted back to simpler times. "I'd be happy to help."
"Then that settles it," announced Goilon with a smile. "We'll turn this inta an armory and stock it full of armor and weapons. Who has all of that right now, lads?"
"I think Chaucer has most of it in his bag of holding," said Kuku. "He's always been our pack mule of sorts with that bag of his."
"Should we go ahead and get started?" asked Samash. He stood there in his bunny slippers and robe with a look of determination on his face.
"First we need ta lay out the plans, lad," said Goilon. "Then we'll get ta felling trees an the building of shelves an stocking the room. Besides, I'm sure that lad Crom will be back soon from his infiltration mission. We don't want ta get started on something just ta have ta stop once we get started."
Bilben, Nyx, and Chaucer sat at the workbench in the back of Bilben's study. Bilben sat inspecting the crown with his loupe, looking it over closely and being careful not to touch it again to ensure it was the genuine item he took it to be. Nyx sat beside him going through ancient texts about the set as a whole, the Regalia of Might, while Chaucer handled the other two items of the set, the orb and scepter, that Bilben had already owned. Nyx sat up from the text.
"It says here that whoever possesses all three of these items will be stronger, more dexterous, and hardier," Nyx said with skepticism. "It also says any weapon you wield will be holy and you'll emanate an aura of courage to those around you." She scoffed to herself thinking of Bilben as anything but courageous.
"Why do you scoff, apprentice?" asked Bilben, looking up from his studying of the crown. "Do you doubt that these are the real artifact?"
Nyx shook her head. "Oh, it's nothing. I just had to clear my throat," the tiny gnome replied lying about why she'd scoffed.
"You know one of the properties of the crown is that the wearer cannot lie," stated Bilben in a scholarly fashion. "I should make you put it on and ask you a few things." Chaucer chuckled. He'd never been apprenticed to anyone before and he enjoyed watching the dynamic play out between the two of them.
"So what are you going to do with the set now that you have it all?" asked Chaucer with curious fascination. He balanced the orb in his hand playfully as he asked. Bilben jerked with surprise and quickly snatched the orb from his hand and set it gently back on the worktable.
"I think it needs to go to a champion who is capable and trustworthy. Someone that the people love and will respect. I've a few candidates in mind back in Baldur's Gate who would be just right for this mighty set," explained Bilben.
"So you didn't collect all of this to use yourself?" Nyx asked in disbelief. "Seems a bit like a waste of time."
"And that is why you are the apprentice and I am the teacher," said Bilben proudly. "What you fail to realize is there are two other sets like this out there, one evil and one neutral. Until recently this set was incomplete meaning there could be no champion for good. Now we have rectified that!" Bilben clapped his hands and slid down from his stool placing his loupe on the work bench. "I'm famished. Let's head down to the kitchen for dinner."
Tamar perched behind a sculpture of a dinosaur on the roof of a building adjacent to the tavern where the cultists were gathered. Peering into the alley that ran alongside the tavern she could see Crom staged in his new disguise awaiting the exit of the cultists. Several minutes had passed since Crom came out of the tavern and took up an inconspicuous position to wait for the cultists. She still found it hard to believe that the same cold-hearted assassin she knew as a half-elf was this very changeling that could seamlessly blend in anywhere he needed to. In the time spent waiting for the cultists to leave she had gone over the plan with her fairy dragons one more time. Kevin and Adora perched next to her, invisible to the untrained eye.
"So you'll stay up at rooftop level, invisible and undetected from the street," Tamar explained to them both. "Crom will be following from the ground and I'll be following from the rooftops, but if Crom or I get spotted it'll be up to you two to follow them to their hideout and get back to us with word of where they are." She paused looking at the empty space next to her. "Are you two even listening to me?" she chided them crossing her arms awaiting a reply.
"Yes, mom," chirped Adora in her musical voice, ever the compliant one amongst the two of them. Tamar could envision the pleasure on the young fairy dragons face in her mind as she listened.
"Uh huh," echoed Kevin with his angst-ridden attitude. He was always the harder of the two to keep in line, prone to fits and wandering off. Tamar shook her head as she looked back to the alleyway where Crom was. She looked over just in time to see him perk up as the door opened to the tavern. A heavy-set older man and a young woman pushed their way through the door, stumbling drunk out into the streets of Tiryki Anchorage and laughing loudly to one another. Crom took the opportunity to stage himself across the way from the tavern, leaning against a building and pulling some leather working tools out from his smock. As he stood there he idly played with the tools, casting a glance up to Tamar and nodding.
Tamar nodded back slinking further behind the dinosaur sculpture as she peered back to the tavern. She wondered how long they would have to wait. She had forgotten how much she detested stake outs and following people. Just as she began to settle in more comfortably the door to the tavern began to open again. Crouching low she observed five dark robed figures emerge from the tavern, each of them talking with another, completely oblivious to their surroundings. She shot a glance down to Crom who had pushed off from the building and slowly walked in the direction they meandered, keeping his focus off of the robed cultists as he kept at a safe distance. Tamar looked over to where she knew her fairy dragons were and said, "It's showtime, little ones. Follow the five robed men down there." She smiled wide as she felt them lift off on their wings and she carefully padded low along the rooftops after the cultists.