In which Sabali Impersonates a Chicken

Early Morning, 7th Quen’pillar 835PD
 
I write this as the dawn light begins to filter through the kitchen windows in Altria’s cottage. The latter part of yesterday turned out to be rather unfortunate, as I will recount for you, but I do also have some very exciting news of my own, which I will save for the end!
 
First, to continue my tale from where it was broken off yesterday, we turned aside from the main path, as instructed, and almost immediately we could hear raised voices in the trees ahead. It was agreed (more or less), that Raphael and I would go and converse with the speakers to gauge their intentions, while other members of the party would remain hidden close by, ready to offer assistance should it be required.
 
This we did, and as we drew closer we could see three men, one of them very large, all dressed in dirty but serviceable leather armour. They looked to be quite formidable opponents should it come to that. The three were gathered around a small cookfire and had clearly been engaged in an intense discussion before we arrived. Lord Raphael hailed them with wary politeness, and their response was surly and hostile, but not immediately violent. As he made some simple enquiries as to their business, I could see them assessing the threat that we might pose, as well as the potential coin to be gained from us. Once his lordship had made them duly aware of his exalted status (do you remember young Thorkel who was sent to train with us two springs back? Then you will get the idea of what I mean here, although in this instance I think five minutes might actually be overoptimistic), they decided to try to extort some coin from us. Raphael made a move towards them, ostensibly peaceful, although I'm not sure what his true intentions were.
 
What happened next was rather confused, but I think that one of the spellcasters conjured a sound of some sort behind the men, and they turned in some consternation. As they did so I could see that all three were already wounded (it looked like the strike of a beast of some sort rather than by a blade). Someone, Enessa most likely, fired an arrow from the trees which landed in the dirt at the captain’s feet. They were clearly rattled, and I took the opportunity to try to talk some sense into them - after all, neither of us was ready for a fight, and it really wasn’t necessary. These were most likely petty criminals, no more than that - they claimed to have left Altria's place unmolested, and although they were hard to read, I was inclined to believe them. I thought that my attempts to calm things down, backed by a rather more aggressive posture from Lord R, were working too. They were tense as a bowstring but also looked weary, and seemed glad for a reason not to quarrel with two armored knights and an unknown number of persons concealed in the trees. They had some story about having lost their gold after hiding it somewhere underground, and, unlikely as it sounded, perhaps it was true. The situation could, I think, have been defused then and there, and we would have gone our separate ways, without anyone needing to get hurt.
 
What actually occurred was not that. As the men bent to collect their belongings and move on, what can only be described as a comedy chicken noise came from the trees. It was loud, and persistent, and rang out mockingly across the clearing. Someone, Zeni I think, started shouting rather unconvincingly about losing their chicken. At the time I didn’t know who had made the original noise, but it later turned out to have been Sabali. I don’t know what the lad was thinking, just a foolish and ill-timed jest I expect, but it was too much for the bandits. Lord R had a face like absolute thunder, while I tried desperately to remind them how prudent and sensible it was to part without violence. I'm just going to give you a moment to stop there and imagine the scene, it's worth the effort - the whole thing had become rather ridiculous after all. I felt for the bandits, they were all three already on edge, feeling confused and threatened, and this injury to their pride was the last straw. Two drew their bows and began to fire somewhat wildly into the trees, while the big man ran at Raphael and myself. We exchanged a glance, and with regret we drew our blades to meet his.
 
The fight was unpleasant and bloody, but it could have been a lot worse had it not been for Zenirith’s quick thinking in using magic to somehow put the two smaller ruffians to sleep. That left only the big lad to deal with, and he was handful enough. The combat itself was a rather squalid affair, with us mobbing the man from three sides and him lashing out viciously with sword and dagger in all directions. Only one thing happened to make the fight a notable one. As you might expect, even once the bloodshed had started I would have liked to try to talk the man down and try to get the situation back under control before anyone was killed, but I had only thought of doing so from a position of strength, making him realise that he had no chance and would be better off talking. Not so Zeni, who walked unarmed and unarmored right into the midst of the melee, and tried to reason with the man to give it up and live to fight another day. That took real guts - she was clutching her spellbook like her life depended on it, but magic or no magic, it was a hell of a risk. I don’t know why she did it, perhaps she felt somehow responsible for Sabali and his foolishness, but it almost cost her her life. The bandit captain struck her down with a single powerful blow, and she could very easily have bled out right there on the ground had the fight continued much longer. It is common wisdom in Vasselheim that wizards are cowardly and selfish, and I confess that the use of purely arcane power still puts a shiver down my back, but I’ve rarely seen anyone take such a gamble with their own safety to try to save the life of a man to whom they owed absolutely nothing. It was an action that would not have disgraced a devotee of Ilmater, and I will not soon forget it.
 
With a lot of help from ranged attacks, we eventually managed to subdue the bandit leader, and Orlando finished him with a shot from fairly close range. By that point Zeni was still down, Raphael and Sabali were badly hurt and I myself had a few nasty cuts and bruises. We were all breathing hard, and still full of adrenaline from the fight. Clearly in a lot of pain from a nasty gash in his side which had been only partly closed by Arin’s healing power, Raphael bent down, scooped up some of the blood pooling around the body of the dead bandit, and smeared it across the fur of Sabali’s hand and forearm, saying ‘his life wasn't yours to take, and you took it’, and then he walked stiffly away shaking his head. Now, Sabali had eyes only for the unconscious and bleeding Zeni at this point so I’m not sure that he really took in what was being said, but Raphael’s voice was tight with anger and disapproval.
 
Wind managed to bandage Zeni’s wounds enough to stop the bleeding, and then I channeled a trickle of celestial energy, to bring her back to wakefulness. She was still very pale and shaken up as I pulled her to her feet and stepped back to give her space, but she was alive, which was the main thing. Sabali looked immensely relieved to see her standing again, and immediately offered her his arm to lean on, despite his own considerable injuries. They are a strange pair, but clearly devoted to one another.
 
The other two bandits woke up in due course, and having been disarmed of their crossbows, they were peaceable enough. Simple village fellows by the sound of it. They posed no immediate threat to us, and so the best thing seemed to be to simply send them on their way. Here again, Raphael took the lead. I had turned to him for a quiet word of advice as to whether it might be better to keep the men with us, for their own safety, and, without a word, he simply took control of the situation and dispatched the two of them back to the Eagle’s Landing, with an instruction to ‘tell Rebur that Raphael sent you’. I didn't disagree with this course of action, although I hope that it brings no trouble to Rebur’s door (mind you, he’ll probably have molded them into heroes of legend by the time we get back to town...), but his manner was, lets say, very noble.
 
Before they left, Enessa tried to pry more details from the two men about this story of the buried gold, but they just said that it was ‘down below’. She looked around for any sort of entrance to an underground space, but found nothing.
 
Just up the road we found a small shrine to Melora (to my shame, I did not recognise the unfamiliar icons, they use all sorts of different ones here in Tal Dorei, but thankfully Arin was there to mend my ignorance). Arin then led us in a quick prayer, and the two of us, and Zeni, left a silver on the altar in thanks for our safe passage through the forest. After the combat, it felt good to wash my spirit clean again in the aura of the divine, even an aura as turbulent and unpredictable as that of the Maiden of the Deepwood.
 
Some people also noticed a fairy circle close by, but Raphael cautioned us against approaching it. Sabali pointed out some strands of spider silk, or something similar in the trees nearby, but it was agreed by all that now was not the time to go looking for trouble. Or at least Wind gave Sabali to understand that this was not up for discussion, and thus unanimity was achieved.
 
We approached a cottage in a clearing, surrounded by well tended gardens, and knocked on the door, calling out for the apothecary, Altria, whose house this surely was. To my relief, she answered promptly, and seemed both welcoming and in good health. After our encounter with the bandits, I had been quite concerned for her wellbeing, but she seemed to be fine. She invited us in, and kindly patched up our wounds while we explained the purpose of our visit. She suggested that the townsfolk are most likely suffering from some sort of swamp fever, and said that she would like to assist with medicine, but that she has been unable to gather a key ingredient for the recipe. Her manner when we mentioned the town seemed a little stiff, but she seemed willing enough to help.
 
It took a little bit of coaxing, but eventually she told us that she had accidentally disturbed some creature in the caves below the cottage, where this moss that she needs grows. It had become aggressive (the creature, not the moss), and now she was afraid to venture down there. She obviously felt bad about it, but these things are easily enough done. Caves always seem to contain some nasty beastie or another, and drawing their attention is all too easy, however careful you may be. We obviously need to get down there and clear it out, but, seeing how tired everyone looked, we decided to wait until we had had a bit more of a chance to recuperate first.
 
While Altria began to prepare what she needed to make a batch of medicine once we had the moss, Zeni offered to cook dinner. At this point Enessa remembered that she had left her wolf carcass by the bandits’ camp. She went back for it, but Ussi (Enessa has a young panther with her, named Ussi, did I mention that? Also a hawk) had clearly got there first, and it was all chewed up and torn. She was all for roasting the remains as an evening meal, but was persuaded to instead try hunting for some more wholesome meat for the pot. Orlando shouldered his bow and also disappeared off into the twilight with the same goal.
 
While they were gone, Sabali and Arin gathered a few plants and herbs from nearby. Arin discussing in detail with Altria the uses of some of the plants in her garden. She seemed glad of the company and impressed with the speed at which he soaked up the new information. I spent some time cleaning and oiling my sword and armour, and then helped Zeni with the meal as much as I could. Wind rattled on about how we might be able to sell the sacks of extra moss (dried ephedra is the proper name, apparently) she imagined us bringing up from the caverns below, while Raphael dozed on the easy chair, seemingly overcome with fatigue.
 
Orlando returned with a brace of rabbits, and Zeni produced a marvellous rabbit and vegetable stew, which was greatly appreciated by all. There were a few laughs, as well as a few pointed remarks about chickens, as we talked over the day’s events, but all in all, we were just glad that everyone was hale and hearty enough to enjoy the meal. There had been a few close calls today, and none of us was in the mood to take anything for granted. Most of the rest of the conversation revolved around herbalism, and my thoughts wandered for a while. Enessa went outside and I could see her throwing little coloured balls for her hawk to retrieve. It was certainly getting much better at fetching on command by the end of the session and both bird and huntress seemed to be enjoying themselves.
 
It was agreed that we should keep a watch - Altria said that she had so far had no trouble from the creature at night, having boarded up both the cellar door and the mouth of the well, but remembering the strands of silk in the forest, we didn’t feel like taking any chances.
 
Raphael and I took the second watch, and before retiring the first watch told us that they had seen a flicker of light coming from the fairy ring, but nothing more. Raphael stared out in that direction intently, alert for any sign of movement, but I must admit that my attention slipped. Something had happened earlier which I needed some time to think about (yes, I will tell you my news in due course, be patient!), and I could not really focus properly on watching the empty night. After an hour or so Raphael nudged me, and said that he had seen movement by the circle, and wanted to go and investigate it. As he stood, he seemed to reach some other decision he had been weighing in his mind - ‘you should speak to the Tabaxi’ he said ‘what he did wasn’t right, and it cost that man his life. I think that he respects you.’ With that, he strode off into the darkness without waiting for an answer. Was it a suggestion? An instruction? Friendly advice? Not at all clear.
 
Now, as you might imagine, I was surprised by what he said. I’ve told you the tale in it’s essentials, leaving out nothing of consequence, and I think you will agree that the man who died was led to that fate by his own choices and no-one else’s. His blood was not on Sabali’s hands (except literally of course, as it went). Raphael wasn't entirely wrong though - someone did almost lose their life as a result of Sabali’s foolishness, and that person was his sworn sister Zenirith (although of course Lord R himself would be a plausible second candidate, had Arin not been on hand to get him back on his feet). Sabali could see that as well as anyone else. If he’s too stupid, or too stubborn, to see the consequences of his own actions when they are right under his nose (and I very much doubt that he is either of these things), then saying something will surely just make him dig in his heels. Respect goes both ways, after all. As I write this, I can see Zeni through the window, standing the last watch of the night with Wind. She sits in the dawn light, a little apart from Wind, and looks lost in her own thoughts. She knows Sabali better than any of us, and if anyone has the right to speak to him about what happened it is her, but she seems content to keep her own council.
 
Anyway, back to our own watch, and the strange movement in the fairy circle. I saw Raphael make his way cautiously up to the edge of the ring and begin to speak softly in some elven tongue which I did not recognise. Something or someone replied to him in a high, reedy voice, but there seemed no aggression on either side. The conversation continued for a few minutes, and eventually I called out to check on him. He said that he was fine, was speaking with a sprite, which I took to be some sort of fairy, and that he was not in need of any assistance. I was still tempted to get up and investigate for myself, but it had been a long night, and elves have their own ways of dealing with the forest, so I decided to leave well alone unless there was some obvious danger. After a few more minutes of hushed conversation he came back and sat down again, explaining that he had been trying to gather intelligence as to the creature in the caverns, but had learned nothing useful. These sprites, he said, were common enough in Lyrengorn, which is his home, and he seemed well used to speaking with them. They were tricky though, he claimed, and could prey on the unwary or those inexperienced in their ways, which is something that I can readily believe. Eventually our watch was relieved and we headed to our beds.
 
And now I will tell you my big news, and I thank you for your patience in getting to this point. Before sleeping last night (the first time, not after watch) I went a little way away from the house, and I ran through my meditations and exercises, as I do every night, practising the mental disciplines that should, in theory, produce a shield or healing energies and so on. I felt, as I always do, a profound peace settle over me as my hands formed the familiar gestures, and I spoke the words of the rituals softly under my breath. And then, to my astonishment, and for the first time in my life, I actually felt the strength of Bahamut rise within me, answering my call. I was so surprised that I almost fumbled the casting, but I caught it again, and there before me, hanging in the air, was a perfectly formed prayer of blessing. I stared at it, and it was beautiful, a deep golden colour and pulsing with a soft light. I could even see the fine lines where it could be divided up into three parts and sent out into the world - some tiny part of Bahamut’s grace made manifest in the world. Reluctantly, but unable to hold it longer, I allowed the energy to fade and and tried another, a simple prayer of shelter from evil things. I felt the mantle of protection settle on my shoulders like a silken cape, just as the Reverends had described it. I was so happy, and proud, that I thought that my heart might burst with it. At that point though, I was suddenly weary to my bones with the effort of it, so clearly there is a hard limit on how much power the body can withstand to channel. Still, what a revelation! I will try to ask Arin about it when I get a chance, he must know more about this sort of thing, but Alwyn, I do wish that you were here to share this with me, I could really use your counsel in these strange new times.
 
People are waking now and there seems to be a general movement towards breakfast, so I will close here for the moment. Today we head down to deal with the spider in the cellar!