Swamped

It sure would be nice if you could stamp your fingerprint in the note but how would they even know it's yours, maybe try morse code?

This would be easier if you were dealing with Marshguards, especially your own squad. You could put in references to your own knocking code - sure, it's not meant to be written, but you could at least make clear you know the code and that'd be good enough for them.

But you don't have anything similar for these two. They're not even supposed to know you have a knocking code. And similarly, you've got no idea what sort of codes they'd use.

Hmm. When you get down to it, a code is just a special kind of language. And you think you remember some conversation about Marshall learning to read in a weird way... something about reading Kroskan as Common?

There's a thought. Sprinkle in some Kroskan words. Except, your own name is in Kroskan, so that's not going to be very good for identifying you.

Wait... Marshall's first instinct will be to translate anyways. That's it! You conclude the note with six words that translate to Common words whose first letters spell "CORVUS". Long might not catch it, but Marshall probably will. You tear off the note, and hand the pad and pencil back to the kid.

"Go to the cell and give this note to the people inside," you explain. "Come back after they give you something."

The kid, nervous as ever, takes the note and runs off.

Leaving you alone with Ash until he gets back. So now what do you do?

Ask Ash for details on the operation of the ship.

"How exactly does this ship work?" you ask. "As far as I can tell, it's just you three here, and I haven't seen any of you steering it."

"No idea," he says. "I've been all over and haven't even seen a wheel. I asked Carma if it was magic, and she said it was purely mechanical, and then sent me to go and clean stuff around the ship."

"So, what, you just go where the wind takes you?"

"No, the ship can fly faster than the wind, and we're up higher than any mountain I know of. The only reason we'd need to change course is if we had to go someplace else or if another ship were in the way. And from what I've been able to gather, all airships are in the Master's service. Well, except this one, now that we've stolen it. So it's not as if he's going to run into one out of nowhere... and if he somehow does, he's got strong enough magic to destroy the one in his way."

"Or send it away somewhere," you muse. "Don't suppose we ran into him and he moved us before we noticed?"

Ash shakes his head.

"I asked Carma if we had to worry about running into him. She said not until we reached my continent, and even then, she'd know he was coming."

Wait. Is that why she ran out suddenly? Not your hinting that you didn't come alone?

That doesn't make much sense, though. If it was the Master, she probably would have warned Ash rather than running off to wherever.

Then again... how do you know she didn't? It's not as if you trust Ash to be forthcoming.

But on the other hand, he's not stupid. He didn't have any reason to tell you that and you wouldn't have suspected a thing if he hadn't. So he's probably as much in the dark about what's going on as you are.

Probably. You wouldn't say it's a safe bet, though.

"The Silent One seems to be taking a while," Ash says suddenly, interrupting your train of thought.

"Maybe my note wasn't convincing enough," you say with a shrug. "Maybe we should go ahead and check on him."

"You can do that if you like. I'd prefer to stay here, where it's relatively safe."

Ugh. Of course he would. But you're also not inclined to leave him on his own. Who knows what he might get up to.

You main options seem to be to go after the kid, stick around and keep an eye on Ash, or try to persuade Ash to come with you. What do you do?

Best not to risk it here. Go after him.

You're not the sort to sit still when someone's in trouble. Especially not when there's a good chance you're the one who endangered them in the first place.

Though you might as well put some effort into keeping Ash from slipping away to do who-knows-what.

"Suit yourself. Yell if you run into any trouble, and maybe I'll be able to run back in time to rescue you."

Ash doesn't seem particularly moved.

"We've seen no sign of anything actively dangerous. Just illusory hallways. It's significantly safer to stay in one place."

"Yeah, well, somebody made those illusions. And maybe if the illusions don't work, they'll get a bit more active. But hey, not my problem if you want to make yourself a sitting mallow."

Ash sighs, and starts walking.

"Fine, I'll come. I don't plan on going through any more illusions, but we might as well figure out exactly where we can go safely."

Well. You'll see how that goes. The next corridor you go down seems perfectly fine, so you wave down to Ash and he follows, if a bit suspiciously. You manage to reach another room, and go poking your head in to see if the kid is around. Ash waits outside, because of course he does.

The room is mostly empty, aside from a couple of tables. What could this have been used for? Meetings? Seems a bit plain for that. And it's too far from the kitchen to be good for meals.

Wait. What's that in the corner?

A bird?

It looks like a bird. A messenger crow, to be exact. How did it even get in here? Was the Master's group using it?

You take a closer look. The bird drops its message and flies away suddenly.

Well. No idea who the message is for, but there isn't much you can do except glance at it.

This is not for your eyes.

That's all it says, but you feel strange when you read it. Weird. You head out to where Ash is waiting.

"Did you see a crow fly past?" you ask.

"No. Nothing's happened out here. Another illusion?"

"Maybe," you mutter. "Maybe something else." You show him the paper. "Can you tell me what this says?"

"This is not for your eyes, but know we are watching you closely. I guess you didn't keep up with the Theletian I taught you, then?"

"It only said that first bit for me. In Kroskan."

Ash looks at it again.

"Well, that's just wonderful. Someone who can send magical messages that change depending on who reads them is keeping an eye on me. I don't see how this helps us at all, but then again, I suppose I'd rather have a warning than not."

Changing messages. Wait a minute. When you had that run-in with the crow-man the other night, the same thing happened. Long heard something different from you. So could this message be from the gods?

Carma seemed concerned about Reth's approval, so this might be an answer for her. Or maybe it's something else. You suppose your best bet is to hold onto it and show it to whoever you come across.

In any event, you seem to be done with that room. So you head further down the hall while Ash waits to see if you're all right, and...

Wait. Something feels weird. Maybe it's another illusion? You're having trouble telling just what it is if that's the case, though. You pause for a moment and try to figure out what exactly you're noticing - if you go further, it might get worse.

The hair on your arm is standing on end. Static? Lightning?

It takes quite a while to pinpoint what's bothering you. You don't even quite catch it until you experimentally push your arm forward, in case you're at the very edge of the effect, and even then it's faint.

Then you roll up your sleeve and try it again, this time taking a good look at your arm. The hair on it is standing up, which is more than a little odd. What could even cause that kind of reaction? Not only that, it feels quite a bit stronger this time - perhaps your uniform is holding it off?

You press forward just a little bit, and you feel a strange tingling sensation as your hair pushes up against your helmet. You also find yourself flinching, as if you were feeling a pain you can't quite describe. It's almost like the air itself is attacking you. Your face seems to be getting the worst of it, even with the breather mask; but when you cover it with your sleeve, it feels a lot better.

You think this one might be more than an illusion. It's too vague and unfamiliar to really be believable, and you can't see why your uniform would be so effective against something you don't understand at all. It's getting worse as you push through, but it's mostly just inconvenient.

Before long, though, you feel the effects fading again. You wonder just how bad that would have been without your uniform.

You suppose the kid might have found that out firsthand. He's not here, at least, but you're not sure where to look next.

You call back down the corridor to Ash.

"How do I get to the cells from here?"

"Turn at the intersection, and they should be behind the next door!"

Well, that's clear enough. But if something happened to the kid, it probably happened there.

You approach the door, wary. If you just go charging right in, you might run into whatever's slowed the kid down.

So how should you handle this?

Just peek in carefully.

You start by opening the door just enough to peek inside, only to hear an unfamiliar voice.

"You're wasting your time, Marshguard. I already know you're coming."

It sounds a little similar to Carma's accent, so it's probably someone who works for the Master. Or used to. Either way, you're probably not going to do too well in a straight-up fight.

You wonder if it's worth calling back. Maybe they just overheard you yelling to Ash and guessed you were nearby. You certainly don't see a need to get any closer. In fact, you pull away from the door in case you get attacked.

Well. Maybe from here it should be relatively safe to talk. If not... you'll just run back through the strange corridor, you suppose.

"What do you want?" you call back. "I'm not looking for a fight if there's no need, but I can't be sure on that if I don't know what you're doing here."

"You need not concern yourself. All you need to know is that Carma and I have conflicting plans, and I am merely sorting out the differences."

Well, that doesn't make anything clearer in the slightest.

"So why are you hanging out near the cells, then?"

"Someone sent my pawn here. I had one last task for him, and I'm waiting here for him to finish it. Don't worry - unlike Carma, I can handle all the spellcasting myself, so I hardly need inferior wizards like these two."

You really don't know what to make of this. This whole conversation is unsettling, and you know nothing of his intentions - but he doesn't seem to be looking for a fight.

What should you do?

Ask that your friends be released.

Well. You do have one simple request.

"If you don't need them for your plans, let them out."

You hear the stranger laugh.

"Ah, the naivety of the ungifted! It's been far too long since I spent time around your kind, it seems."

"What's so funny?" you shout back.

"This may not be as obvious to you, lacking ether senses, but surely you can follow the chain of logic. There are two wizards in that cell. Now, what can wizards do?"

"Cast spells," you say, and then it hits you. "So they ought to be able to get themselves out of an ordinary cell. But if they can't get out of this one, then it's got to interfere with magic somehow?"

"Precisely. Which means, whether I had the inclination to do you a favor or not, I wouldn't be able to. Or do you have that much confidence in my ability to pick a lock?"

You're really starting to dislike this guy. He's almost as obnoxious as Ash.

On the other hand, he doesn't seem hostile right now. More like disinterested. And you just might be able to get something out of him if you keep the conversation going.

So where should you direct it?

Ask if he thinks the anti-wizard cages would be dangerous to regular, er, ungifted folks like yourself or his pawn.

A big shift in direction might put him on guard. It'll be easiest to work with the current topic.

"So, are these anti-magic cages only an issue for mages like you? Or is there something that makes them dangerous to the 'ungifted', like me?"

"The cell is merely made of objects with high resistance to ether. Trectite bars with silver coating, significant amounts of moonwood amongst the walls. They pose no danger if handled by mundane means." The voice pauses. "Well, I suppose in theory, someone could attempt to cast a lot of spells despite the countermeasures. In such a case, it's possible that even a nonmagical disruption could release the ether stored up by those materials, with unpredictable results."

You've never heard of trectite or moonwood before. You wonder if it's worth asking about them, or if you'd be better off trying to guide the explanation somewhere else.

Show Content

SpoilerSince I didn't get any suggestions, randomly decided between asking about it and not.

After some consideration, you decide not to bother. Best to get that sort of information from a more reliable source.

What you're mainly concerned with in the short term is how you can get the prisoners out. If he thinks that's all you want, he might be a little looser with his lips.

"So how sturdy is this trectite stuff, as metals go? Any chance I could break it?"

"It's about as strong as iron. If you had a good steel sword, well, the blade would probably outlast the bars, but it wouldn't be in good shape afterwards. And it would take at least an hour."

"What about the wood, then?"

"Ten minutes with a good saw could get you through the walls. Of course, who's to say how much time you have, even if you could find a saw?" He chuckles. "Maybe three minutes if you burn it, but it'd be easy for the fire to spread through the whole ship. I wouldn't go that route, myself."

Now you just feel like he's mocking you.

"So what would you do if you wanted to get the prisoners out, then?" you ask. He's clearly inviting the question.

"If I had a reason for it, I'd go after Carma and take the key from her. But then, without any spells, you'd have to be a damn good fighter to get out of a struggle with her alive."

Which you're not, and you know it. From the way he led you to ask, you think he's offering you help, but no doubt he's got a price for it.

You're not inclined to take him up on it, even though you don't have many other ideas. So where do you go from here?

Tell him you'd like to go see the prisoners for yourself before committing to any kind of action on their behalf. You need to know that they're okay (and don't tell him this but you want to see if you can pick the lock, and see if the message you're carrying has any meaning for them).

You don't have time for implications. Best to play along - at least that way, he's unlikely to make any sudden moves on you.

"Is that an offer?"

"Whether it is or not depends on what you can offer me. It would be satisfying to see the look on her face, mind, but that alone isn't adequate compensation for my trouble."

Hmm. He's being vague. Probably doesn't want to give away too much about his plans.

"Before I agree to anything, I'm coming in to make sure the prisoners are okay." You're not happy about it, but you can't keep this conversation going at a distance forever.

"By all means."

You step in. The man you've been talking to looks at you; he's quite old, though his outfit is very unfamiliar. He's also quite a bit shorter than you. Taller than Shorty, but not by more than a head or so.

He nonetheless manages to look quite intimidating. Then again, Shorty can do that too.

You walk over to the door. The cell seems quite small for having two people in it. At the moment, they both seem to be asleep on a pair of benches, with no more than a few feet between them.

"Marshall? Long? You okay in there?"

Marshall stirs, and slowly stands up.

"Hungry."

Marshall walks towards you sluggishly. Not looking good.

"Ah, that would be a side effect of the cage," the old man says. "The ether resistance interferes with normal ether flow, which tends to make basic tasks require more energy. It's not enough of a difference to be life-threatening, even to a novice, but it does tend to keep magicians quite a bit more passive."

"Who're you," Marshall mutters weakly.

"Save your energy," you say. "Don't talk. I'll help you out... somehow."

You quietly flash the message you got from the crow at Marshall, who seems puzzled. Maybe you'll have a chance to ask about that later. In the meantime, you glance at Captain Long, who hasn't moved at all.

"Is Long all right?" you ask.

"I can't really check for sure from here, but I believe he's unconscious," says the old man. "Tends to have that effect on older mages, especially if they're out of practice. The physical body isn't what it used to be."

As he babbles, you do a few experimental pokes at the lock. You're no expert at lockpicking, but you're not half-bad, either. Still, this seems beyond your skills.

The old man doesn't say anything. He's just letting you take in their suffering, no doubt before making a very reasonable offer to help.

So. What are you going to do?

Ask Marshall to give you his glove and let you inspect his hands, pretending he had a wound.

Well. This whole mess started because Ash wanted a glove. Might as well grab that - it's not currently doing Marshall any good.

"How's your hand?" you ask. Marshall seems a bit confused, so you make your bluff a bit more direct. "I heard you scratched it this morning. Wouldn't want it getting worse in a place like this."

Marshall nods, and walks towards the cell door.

"I think it's better, but see for yourself." Marshall awkwardly stares for a moment at where the other arm should be. "Um, it'll be easier if you take my glove off, though. I can do it, it's just..."

"I get it," you say. You do, and make a show of inspecting the bare palm.

"Yeah, looks all right. Guess the scratch didn't go very deep."

Now you need a diversion, something to draw the old man's attention away from the fact that you're keeping the glove. Suddenly, inspiration strikes, and you show Marshall the message again, this time openly. "Say, could you hold on to this and show it to Captain Long when he wakes up? I'm wondering what he thinks of it."

"Um, I'm not sure," Marshall says, glancing at it. "If it, ah, if it's something worrying, it could give him a bad shock. And he's in a poor enough state already."

You wonder just what Marshall's reading. But you can't ask directly.

"Well, you can hold onto it, right?"

"Maybe. I'm not feeling so great myself, though. It may not be the best idea for me to keep it."

So Marshall's trying to tell you not to just hand it over. Curious, but you can go along with that.

"Hmmph! Why not read the message aloud, then? Or is your memory that poor, child?"

The old man is suddenly right next to you, and he's grabbed the message.

"Perhaps you're worried about being overheard? If it's the sort of message I shouldn't hear, well, that just makes me more curious. So give me one moment..."

He takes one look at the message, and suddenly his eyes widen and he freezes in place. You weren't expecting that.

Now what?

Knockout chop to Mr. Master's neck!

You're not sure how long whatever's happening to him is going to last, so you go for a calculated blow to knock him out.

Except, as your hand touches his neck, it feels like all the force just evaporates. There isn't even any knockback, your hand just... stops.

You pull it away. That's more than a little eerie.

"Marshall," you ask. "What did that message say when you read it?"

"Um. It was something like, 'Young warrior of the bog, you still have time to repent.' But it, um, it kind of hurt to read. So I wasn't sure what would happen if Captain Long read it, since he's been a Bogknight much longer than I have."

"Strange. For Ash it just said the same thing it did for me... then again, I suppose he's not a Bogknight any more," you muse. "So it seems this thing here isn't just a message, it's a weapon."

A weapon the gods can wield against their enemies. Frankly, you find that worrying even if they aren't wielding it against you.

And just as you're pondering what to do about it, the quiet kid comes in. Must have finished this guy's errand.

Wait, what's that he's holding?

He's got a box of those metal disc thingies

The kid's carrying a whole box. He puts it down in front of the wizard, apparently overlooking the man's frozen state.

The kid looks back and forth between the two of you and seems extremely nervous. Probably comes from trying to follow two sets of orders - and yours would have been lower priority, it seems.

You hold up the glove.

"It's all right, it's taken care of," you say. You glance down at the box, and see it's full of those strange coins.

The boy looks to the wizard for approval, but the old man still isn't moving a muscle. Great. This could really mess with the poor kid's head.

You've got a lot to deal with here, but right now you're thinking the first thing you should figure out is how to keep the quiet kid from panicking.