Private Tales Arm For The Poor

[Nathaira]

A cruel smile snaked up the sides of Nathaira's face. The poor fools didn't know who they were dealing with, it really wasn't fair. Kala's fluster was endearing, but Nathaira was even more awestruck by the fan of flame that burst from her card. "Impresssive." How many of those things did she have??

The men fell, and those that did not lie silently screamed in agony as their scant clothing burned atop them. Nathaira, whose hands had gone to the daggers at her hips, relaxed. It seemed there was little for her to do, after all. Disappointing, but easier.

She strode into the camp with her tongue flicking through the air. The charred meat was appetizing... the burnt hair less so. She ignored the two men who still squirmed and clutched at their angry, red bellies and crouched beside the fire, plucking free one of many sticks that had been set around it. Skewered upon it was a large (and now slightly overdone) fish. "Thank you," she hissed at the pained men waving the stick around a bit to cool it off before tilting her head back, opening her jaw unsettlingly wide, and sliding the entire length of the fish down her throat. She bit, and pulled out a clean skewer through her teeth, making a very satisfied expression.

Javiki looked frightened by the entire ordeal, not least of which by Kala, and he watched Nathaira with open disgust. His multicolored scales glinted as he turned his head back and forth looking for more bayoumara. He was convinced that more would arrive at any moment.

 

[Kala]

Kala was well aware that people were far too often judged by their outward appearance.

In many lands her people were quite literally considered aspects of Devil's and Demons. Her blue skin color and the tattoos on her flesh did not help with that, and more than once she'd nearly been killed by some overzealous swine with an idea about what kind of being she actually must have been.

Nevertheless, there was something somewhat... unsettling about watching Nathaira eat.

After staring for only a few seconds the Tiefling turned away, regarding the woods and reaching into her satchel. Fingers threaded over the cards there, counting quietly in her head and grimacing when she realized that there were only nine left.

She knew which ones they were what they could do, and half would not help them in a jungle.

If she'd had her other arm still she could have made more, but the magic she required to create them was not possible with what she had left. That was why it was so urgent she find a replacement. Her magic, what she needed to be...well to be what was was, simply couldn't work with only one hand. She let out a sigh, gazing at her palm for a second and closing her fingers into a fist.

Then something caught in her eyes. "Wait."

Kala said as she stopped over to a small bench like log, tugging at a leather strap and pulling out a satchel large. Upon it was branded a symbol.

"I...I think I saw this symbol at the tower." She gestured to the mark on the front flap.

 

[Nathaira]

“Oh?” she turned, her voice a little muffled by the whole fish that was still working its way down her throat. She discarded the stick and moved to look closer.

It certainly looked like the sort of thing that could have been at the tower. It was angular and intricate, and not at all consistent with these bayou people. She looked over to them and then back at the bag. “These people would not have made something like thiss. A gift, perhaps... or a trophy.”

It’d be a poor ending to her mission if the artificer had been killed and eaten by cannibals, not least of all because the rune wouldn’t leave her alone until she confirmed said death.

“May I?” She asked, taking the satchel from Kala and bringing it over to the one native that was still conscious. “Rafiki, come here!” She commanded in a harsher tone to their former captain.

“Javiki...” he muttered, but he obliged.

“Ask him what happened to the owner of this ssatchel.”

It took him a while to bumble through the sentence, but Javiki did his best to translate.

 

[Kala]

The answer was more of a story than anything straightforward.

It seemed that the cannibals had found the satchel, not taken it. Apparently it had been left behind in a encampment that was not a mile from where they now stood. The cannibals had found the satchel as well as some odd 'tools', or what sounded close enough to them.

Kala and her companions listened, then quickly had the remaining cannibal lead them to that encampment. Within thirty minutes the menagerie of species stood inside the other encampment, Kala gazing at what appeared to be telescope.

There was a tent on the far corner of the camp, as well as strange sticks poking out of the ground that ringed the tent.

She had no idea what they were, but she suspected some sort of magic.

Shockingly, most everything within the camp remained untouched. "This...doesn't look like he has been taken anywhere...more like he was running away."

But why run away? The tower had appeared as though someone had forced their way in an kidnapped the man. Had that been staged? Put up to throw someone off his trail? It didn't rightly make sense.

Kala looked at Nathaira in confusion.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira tasted the air as the man spoke. It reeked of his burnt flesh and piss, of pain and fear. This was more of the environment she was used to, and the part of her that enjoyed the savagery was indulging itself. After all, if this was all her life was meant to be, she may as well make the best of it. Call it a defense, or call it depravity, at least it worked.

The cannibal was, thankfully, not mortally wounded and was able to lead them to the encampment. Cold eyes surveyed the scene and concurred with Kala's assessment. "It iss... clean." Clean enough to be the work of an obsessive-compulsive tinkerer for sure, not likely kidnapping thugs or even elves.

She approached but kept her distance from the ringed tent. "Mind that," she pointed, "It lookss warded." She had broken through enough wards to make an educated guess as to what the sticks were for.

Her tongue again gathered scents. There was a notable metallic tang to the air but otherwise normal bayou.

She saw Kala admiring the telescope. "What were they looking at?"

Javiki seemed to be nearing the end of his patience, but given the outright executions he had just witnessed, he held his salty tongue.

 

[Kala]

Kala looked through the telescope's lens, finding it pointed towards some point in the sky.

She frowned for a moment, and then shrugged. "I can't tell."

The Tiefling wasn't any sort of shcolar. The most education she'd ever received came from the older members of the Reesh Reckoners who could actually read. She had a fair bit of knowledge on something, but the sky and stars were a mystery to her.

Lips thinned for a moment and she looked at her companion.

"Can you undo the wards?" She had a card that could do it...but she was loathe to use it now. There were so few left, and she wouldn't be able to create any more if this whole venture didn't work out. "I think...wherever he is we'll find a clue for it inside."

She assumed...hoped.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira stepped closer to the sticks poking out of the ground. They held the same acrid flavor of magic and static that the tower had been so full of. She walked around the tent once, then a second time, searching for any flaw or break in the pattern. She did not possess the magic to undo a ward if it had been crafted correctly, but she knew how to spot mistakes. "Maybe... if he wasn't careful."

They were lucky, this particular barrier had been set up hastily, and there was a small bit of sand near the back of the tent that looked out of place. The grains had slowly moved to the sides, pulled by the energy of the ward, and created a tiny trench perpendicular to the lines of magical power. It signaled a weak point, a chink in the armor, so to speak.

She flicked one of her daggers through this spot and there was a pop as the barrier suddenly flashed a bright purple before vanishing. Nathaira took her chance and darted in between the sticks while the ward was resetting, and knelt beside the tent just as the hair on her neck stood on end. The ward was back up.

Of course, being on the inside was much easier, and Nathaira kicked over one of the rods with a similar popping noise and the ward fizzled out. She stood tall with a hand on her hip as if to say "ta-daa!"

 

[Kala]

"Very nice." Kala complemented as she watched Nathaira finish her work.

The Tiefling could appreciate the artistry of removing a magical barrier. Had she two hands it might have been easier for her to do so, but...well the eternal curse of what she had done still carried along. She needed this goddamned wizard.

With only a small amount of hesitation Kala stepped into the tent.

The inside was decorated far more lavishly than she would have guessed, with trims of gold and plush leather seating. There was even a bed rather than a cot, though it had clearly been made through some sort of magical means.

Kala looked around for a moment, then spotted a desk with an open journal upon it. A frown touched her features, and she quickly stepped over to it. "Seems..."

Lips thinned.

"Seems our wayward wizard staged his kidnapping, ran away..." But Why? It didn't make much sense.

Slowly she flipped back through the journal.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira followed into the tent, similarly impressed by the decor. The upper class were so soft that they would bruise from lying on sand. Even stranger, then, that he would willfully go somewhere so wild. How he must have boiled beneath the tropic sun.

Kala's theory made sense. The tent was very clean, the wards had been well done (if rushed) and nothing here suggested that more than one person had made camp. "We may have caught up to him at lasst," she mused. "The camp has not been packed up... but where would he have gone?" These were nice things to leave forgotten, and why had the ward been left intact if the artificer had left?

The peered over Kala's shoulder. "Find anything?"

 

[Kala]

"His Journal." Kala said as she read back. "He was afraid of..."

How did she put this delicately.

By now she had figured out Nathaira's situation, or rather, she thought she had guessed about it correctly. She did not yet know for sure, but she wanted to make sure that she did not cause the woman harm. Despite their short time together, she had come to like the half-Naga.

"He was afraid a members of the Merchant Council and some...foreign powers." She would keep it vague.

That might make it easy enough for Nathaira to deny the compulsion of her mark.

"Were colluding to get his research." He frowned. "Perhaps even capture or kill him."

She supposed it made sense, what they had seen in that shop had been beyond anything she had ever imagined.

 

[Nathaira]

Well... he wasn't wrong.

Nathaira was not told explicitly why she was supposed to kill the artificer. The why never mattered, not unless it was pertinent to the how. In this case she had been told he was a traitor to Vel Anir and nothing more. If the artificer were offering his services to their enemies that would make sense, but it could also be that his work was being stolen against his will. It came as no surprise to her that, even if the man himself were faultless, Vel Anir would sooner cut the head off their own supplier than risk losing him to others.

Not that any of that mattered. She had been ordered to kill and so the man would die. What she needed to know now was where the hell he was.

"Does it ssay any more? If we know who he is running from we might guess where he is going. In his sstudy it looked like he wass going to Falwood... but that may have been a ruse." She glanced around the rest of the tent. Despite the relatively luxurious furnishings there wasn't much to go on. A nice sleeping mat, a desk of sorts, and a couple of metal devices Nathaira didn't recognize nor did she wish to touch.

If he knew Vel Anir wanted him dead the Falwood elves were probably his best chance at safety. Alternatively he could have fled to the Empire. Tensions were high enough between the Anirians and the Kaliti that the houses might not risk crossing those borders. The last time the Forsaken had been to the desert things had gotten... messy.

 

[Kala]

Kala flipped a page back again, this time landing of what appeared to be some sort of plan. A frown touched her lips for a moment. "I think..."

The Artificer was clever, never using exact plots or locations, but writing his plans in a way that obfuscated where he was actually going and what he was doing. Lips thinned for a brief moment more and then she nodded her head.

"I think he was to meet someone here, they would escort him by ship to..." A small curse escaped her lips.

"I know who has him now." Fuck. "Velkoz Radic."

Kala practically spat the name that had been written down in the journal. "He's a slaver that poses as a smuggler."

The Tiefling had more than once run into the bastard. He had dealings with some of the other Reckoners, and although the bastard knew not to fuck with her she had heard plenty of stories.

 

[Nathaira]

"You know him?" Nathaira asked, sitting herself down on the surprisingly comfortable cot. She had thought Kala just a thief before, but now questions opened up about what exactly this tiefling did with her time. She didn't think Kala would be involved with slavers, but it took more than petty crimes to be so familiar with one. The bag of tricks she carried, those cards, what else could they achieve? What other hidden doors had they opened?

She looked around the tent once more. It was more a reflex than anything else, for nothing new had come to light in the past minute.

"How would a successsful man like our artificer know ssuch scum?" It sounded almost like a joke when she said it, and it was in part. Most people she killed thought they were better than her. Nice to know this one at least saw the utility in criminals.

"Do you know where they took him?"

 

[Kala]

"I've met him a few times through...mutual associates." Reckoners did not like to speak about one another.

They were a gang like many others, though the truth of their existence was better hidden. Each member of the Reesh Reckoners wore a tattoo, a branded Rune much like the one that Nathaira had upon her flesh. It was magic, and if anyone killed a Reckoner it forced the others to seek retribution.

Velkoz Radic was thankfully not a Reckoner. He simply did jobs with them from time to time. "He likely got a recommendation."

Kala explained.

"Radic pays locals to suggest him as a smuggler." She knew more than one noble had gotten caught up in the bastards schemes. Usually young women who were trying to run away from an arranged marriage or the like.

"There's a port where he stops at." Kala explained. "Tellen, on The Spear. Usually harbors there for a few weeks after a job."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira felt a growing sense of similarity with the tiefling with every little bit of herself that she revealed. Shadow networks? Odd jobs? Vague backstory? Three for three.

The Spear. That name was familiar to her. She had been forced to learn and memorize many such locations, to recognize them on a map, to know their routes and trades... but they all tended to blend together without clearer description. There were just so many places in the world, she could not be expected to keep them all straight.

She thought, and after a minute recalled the place from her memory. She had only ever seen it on maps and had never ventured so far south on her own. "That iss.... far." She had enjoyed their short time on Javiki's boat, but a voyage to the Spear would take much longer, and cover much more treacherous waters.

Of course, it wasn't like she had a choice. If her target was at the Spear, she would follow. "Maybe something here will help," she said, more to herself than anyone, and started rummaging through the cot's meager sheets and the few leaves of paper upon it. All she found were a few coins, but they were not of any currency she recognized.

"How would he even get that far from here? Don't tell me the cannibalss have ships?"

 

[Kala]

Kala shook her head. "I don't think it was the Cannibals."

She said quietly.

"Radic is...tricky." Kala did not know the details, her lips thinning for a moment as she thought about it. "It's very possible he hasn't made it all the way there yet, that he's still on his way."

She looked around for a few seconds, following Nathaira's own path. "I mean...it looks like they practically nabbed him this morning."

A thought sparked in his mind.

"We need to look around the site. Footprints, signs of a struggle, anything." She looked at Nat. "What if they just took him today? We might be able to catch them before they even get to their ship."

 

[Nathaira]

It would be their best chance. Nathaira nodded and swept out of the tent, her pupils narrowing to slits against the burst of sunlight. She saw soft, sandy soil, the barrier pylon she'd kicked over, and a burnt out fire. There was no heat coming from it.

She also noticed that their aquatic follower was nowhere to be seen. "Sseems our captain got tired of uss."

Sand was two-faced. It could show tracks quite easily, but it could hide or mimic them just as easily. It had been worn flatter by the fire, and in a little path towards the nearest inland water. A mixture of their own tracks covered the main camp. She sighed, flicking her tongue in annoyance. People didn't just disappear, they left tracks. Left signs. She tasted the air again, and nothing but the tiny bite of arcane stood out.

She straightened as realization hit her. The barrier was deactivated, and she turned to verify that, yes, it was entirely down. The flavor in the air was slight, small, and coming from something else. She stabbed at it again with her forked tongue, this time letting it waver for quite a bit longer in the air. She drew it back into her mouth, fit it to the roof of her mouth, and processed the story it told.

It directed her to the right. She sampled second by second, sniffing out the source like a cold-blooded hound. "I think I have ssomething," she called to Kala, moving carefully forwards stepping left, then back to the right as the scents changed its intensity.

It lead her just to the edge of the camp, to a twisting mangrove. Inside a small hollow she saw a glint of something very alien to the bayou.

Another tiny, golden hummingbird. She retrieved it and showed it to her partner. "It'ss... dead." The metal was cool and there was no color to the miniscule gemstone at the bird's heart. It lay in Nathaira's hand looking little more than an intricate toy, and certainly not animated. "He musst have left thiss as a trail. What else?"

 

[Kala]

"Suppose if you know something, use it." Kala said with a nod of agreement.

The Wizard had not been able to take many things, but it stood to reason that he had a few things on him when the bastards grabbed him. Her fingers tightened for a moment, looking for their other companion before she spat on the ground.

There was no time to waste. "Let's go."

She wasn't going to chance this.

"I need a new fucking arm." Kala grumbled, her lips thinning as she unconsciously ran her other hand over the stump. Then quickly she set off in the path that Nathaira had found. It didn't take long for them to stumble upon more pieces.

Not whole birds, but smaller components. Tiny wheels, small screws. Shiny things that were noticeable enough within the dim dirt of the swamps. Before long they headed back towards the coast, not the way they had come, but the fresh sea air told of the fact that they were getting close to the ocean once more.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira liked the determination that flared through Kala, that look of dark purpose behind the glowing eyes. She set off after her, closing the tiny bird in her fist.

Kala wasn't like other people she'd met. She was strange, strange enough to not dismiss Nathaira out of hand. Outcasts and underdogs tended to stick together like glue, whether they liked it or not. She certainly wasn't Forsaken, but perhaps she wasn't so far off...

She enjoyed the tiefling, and that enjoyment brought a small flicker of guilt. Kala needed this artificer to make her a new arm, and as far as Nathaira was concerned she had earned it. However... Kala needed the artificer alive. Nathaira wondered how long she could keep him that way without impeding her own orders.

"How do you really know Radic?" she asked, eager for a change of subject. Subtlety seemed silly now, after everything. If they were going to venture to the ends of the earth together, they may as well get personal.

"Did you work with him? Oh! Did he try to capture you, as well?"

The smell of the ocean continued to built until they came upon the beach. This one sprawled out for half a mile at least in either direction, with open ocean ahead of them.

And there, face-down on the beach before them, was Javiki. Quite dead.

 

[Kala]

She shook her head. "No. He's..."

How did she put this?

A frown touched her features for a moment as she realized that there wasn't really a point in keeping her associations a secret. The Reesh Reckoners were not exactly a hidden organization, some of their number openly brandished their tattoos.

The morons.

"I am a part of a...group I guess you could call it.." Kala shifted slightly, drawing down her heavy fur cloak to show off a tattoo just above her chest. "The Reckoners."

It wasn't really an organization, not even a gang. Some of the members even despised one another. "If one of us is killed, this mark compels everyone else to avenge that person. Sort of an...assurance. Keeps a lot of Crime Lords from wanting to fuck with us."

She shrugged.

"Radic has dealings with one of my...well, a few of the other people in the gang." She had attended more than one meeting with him as part of the plan. "He's not in it himself, but we've crossed paths, gotten into a fight or two over his...business."

That sort of thing was tough to avoid, especially when someone hated slavery as much as she did. "The others had to stop me killing him more than once."

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira raised eyebrows at Kala's reveal. Of the many tattoos that adorned the tiefling, this one did seem to have a certain... centrality to it. She felt a little twist in her stomach the more Kala explained. Tattoos that controlled one's actions were quite a delicate subject for her.

"Iss it a rune?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. "The... I mean I've heard of runess on people that..." she could not finish her sentence, for her throat had gone rather dry and constricted. If Kala had indeed known Kasimir so intimately (a different sickness rose at that thought), she would understand what Nathaira meant.

Compelled to move away from the subject by her own bonds, she stepped over to Javiki's corpse and turned it face up with her boot. There were numerous stab wounds across his chest and belly. Nathaira pursed her lips in an expression of disappointment more than anything else. He had been a good captain, it would have been nice to keep him around... even if he had been rather annoying.

She was more interested in Radic, though. "If we find him with our target- er, the artificer, you will have an excuse to kill him," she grinned an evil grin, showing off quite a few pointed teeth running across her cheeks.

The rune only needed to nudge her most of the time. A good kill was a poetry of its own kind.

 

[Kala]

A nod tilted her head in response to the question.

"I imagine you have." Kala said, her expression completely blank. There was no further comment, though it would be clear that she had her suspicions. There was no point on dwelling on it, not when it would put Nat in danger.

Instead she stepped over Javik's corpse, a sigh escaping her.

Kala hated this jungle. Hated Radic. Hated the fact that she only had one fucking arm. "Won't that be sweet."

The satisfaction from killing the scum would no doubt bring her joy beyond most measures. Even imagining it brought a smile to her face, though it disappeared just a second later. Fingers tightened, and then she motioned forward.

They continued for some time, until eventually the jungle grew thinner, and the sound of men speaking rose over the calls of birds.

Kala slowed her steps, crouching down and moving into the brush. Just beyond was a massive cove, nestled within it a ship and what appeared to be a small camp on the beach. "Radic."

She hissed, recognizing the vessels sails.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira crept along beside Kala. The man's name seemed to focus her with violent intent, something the half-naga could understand. There was a clarity in bloodlust, a very defined purpose that could even be called comforting.

She could hear the men's voices but not make out their words. The ship was large, definitely big enough to cross open ocean and go south across rough seas. They were lucky to have caught Radic before he left the Bayou.

"We should get clossser," she hissed in a whisper, and crept through the tropical brush like a wisp of smoke. She could smell the camp on the air now, carried on salty wind coming off the sea. The men were unclean and their food was stale. They wore grungy-looking black leather save for one individual, seated by a bonfire.

Her heart pounded out a heavy beat, knowing this had to be the artificer. Her fingers itched to grab her daggers and end his life at once, but she restrained herself. She had found someone she liked in Kala, and she didn't like the idea of double-crossing her.

She felt a gentle nausea at postponing her orders. The man would die, there was no question, but he didn't need to die now.

 

[Kala]

Kala nearly pounced out of the brush and ran to the wizard as she saw him, the desperation to get her arm back almost making her want to hurl.

Somehow she managed to contain herself, a breath filling her lungs before she snapped her teeth shut and looked over towards the men that were on the beach. By her count there was thirteen of them, though a ship of that size likely had five times that number.

Were they all here? "I don't see Radic."

She whispered quietly to her companion, slowly reaching back and threading her fingers through the cards that remained in her satchel. Her lips thinned for a brief second, and she let out the breath that she had been holding.

"It might be best to go now." Kala looked to Nat. "Grab the wizard and go."

Killing Radic could wait.

She'd rather have her arm back.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira wanted to follow the advice. However, every fiber of her ached to spring forth and plunge the cold steel of her blades into the target's flesh. The thought of his death was euphoric, the idea that she would need to spare him for even a moment was agony.

"Better if you grab him," she whispered back. "I will hold back the others."

She drew her blades and dragged them across her fangs, one after the other. A thick sheen of venom coated them, flowing into intricate grooves in the steel. She cocked her head to one side, and then the other. A pair of quiet pops accompanied this as her jaw unhooked itself. If she were to ignore the artificer, the bloodlust would need to be sated by others.

She turned back to Kala, grinned an insane and toothy grin from ear to ear, and popped out of view.

A minute passed before one of the men on the beach, between the artificer and the ship, crumpled to the sand with shrieks of agony. Nathaira had reappeared over him, hood back and fangs bared, and she leapt towards a second.