Rephidim Docks
Morning light tiptoes as quietly as mice over the decks of the port where the familiar chemical smells of hydrogen and gasbags drift. A steady breeze comes from the edge of Rephidim, laced with earth tones from the bared rock beneath the flying island, and great repair docks reach out over the edge to berth the larger battleships and freighters over vertigo-inducing drops interrupted only by wide-spread cargo nets. Creaky wooden stairs lead down from the smaller land-grounded bays to the dusty flat where less expensive airships float in port. Flags and sails of all colors fill the air, announcing their allegiances to the world. At this hour, workmen stretch and yawn as they amble to their posts and merchants bellow at sailors over cargo being transferred.
A few days after the return from Little Rephidim West, Chiaroscuro has assessed his monetary situation and decided that he is not quite yet in a position to retire, much less buy something nice for Envoy as he'd hoped to do with the bonus. So it is that the slow morning light finds the mongoose out working the trader crowd in the Bazaar, within eyesight of the Port. The business of juggling seven scarves at once is a simple child's exercise for him, but apparently draws appreciative enough looks from the passerbies that they are willing to toss a few shekels into the bowl he's set out.
Veils drift through the air, light enough to cloud the air with their fabric, heavy enough that they can be scooped up and tossed again without fear of the scarves colliding with one another. Some Khattas clap and call out, "Hoi! Let's see you try that with something sharper, Kavi!"
A Naga businessman, python by appearance and mottled green-blue, stops nearby as do the three Savanite slaves in file behind him, then makes a point of yawning as he continues down into the Bazaar.
A wide grin appears on the white-furred muzzle of the 'Kavi'. "Well, good sirs, what do you have on you?" he says as he step-twirls quickly around a 'column' of scarves in the air.
A siamese-masked Khatta laughs. "We've our eating knives, but you might find them a tad blade-heavy." He glances over to the others to see if they're agreeable to the effort.
The Naga businessman tugs on the rope which ties the hands of the three Savanite slaves in a line. "Come," he says brusquely, his voice heavily shaded with Imperial accent. "We have no time for thiss nonssensse."
Chiaroscuro's paws whip *swooshswooshswoosh* through the air, collecting all but two scarves and tucking them quickly under his left armpit, which his left hand keeps juggling in a quick pattern. "Well, as long as I may keep any fingers of mine I cut off, gentlemen… " he says, holding his right paw open.
The slaves look reluctant to abandon the scene, but follow slowly. They seem rather thin, even for the normal cheetahs.
Chiaroscuro frowns slightly as the Naga passes… but keeps his pattern going, unfaltering.
The siamese Khatta laughs. "It's a bargain then." Three knives are collected and handed over, while the gray Khatta kneels to drop six shekels into the bowl, mostly mixed small change.
Chiaroscuro holds the knives, testing their balance, making a point of overdramatically 'inspecting' them. In his 'stage voice', a friendly baritone, he announces "Ah, I think these shall do." He repockets all but two scarves, holding them in his teeth… and begins.
The Khattas watch, standing around in good cheer. The pouches on their belts suggest that their business was good this morning.
Chiaroscuro flings the blades up, tossing them in a careful, beginning pattern. His footwork is no longer as fluid or graceful, as the knives are indeed blade-heavy, and he almost drops the knives a few times. He takes a deep breath… tossing the knives high, then dropping the scarves from his mouth, and rushing frantically to juggle all five objects at once!
The Khattas applaud Chiaroscuro's efforts with black-lipped grins, but turn as the noise of the commotion reaches their keen ears…
Chiaroscuro lets the scarves drift downward slowly to the ground as he hears the noise… and chuckles as he sees the snake fall down. He focuses on the knives, which are hard enough to juggle themselves…
The snake screeches something in Imperial, then recovers his wits as the Kavis keep on going. "I'll ssue! How dare you inssult a cssitizssen of the Empire, you sscurrilouss, verminouss wretchess!"
The Kavis, oddly enough, don't even stop to apologize, some cast glances backward but the others slap each other on the back. Perhaps they're some sort of gang.
The mongoose chuckles a bit louder now, while readying his flourish… One knife caught in each hand, and the third… *jumpflipbendtwist* between his teeth! He drops to one knee in a performer pose.
One of the Khattas happens to be looking back, and calls, "Hey!" just in time for the others to look around as well. "Hey! Well done, Kavi," the siamese says, tossing a five-shekel piece into the bowl. "Not so graceless as your cousins there." He jerks his chin toward the gang.
Chiaroscuro returns the knives to the Khatta, and smiles. "Well… the bazaar is starting to get busy, sir." Though that's not exactly true… not that the bazaar is ever anything but busy, but the morning traffic is still quite thin.
A female Kavi gang-member, if that's what they are, stops near the long plank-surfaced slope down to the level of the docks. She grins back at the Naga and fiddles with a little wooden ornament that hangs upon her belt, a curious object fashioned something like an S with the tip drawn out, and two limbs sticking out on both sides. "Reyna'v'norin s'lah f'Nagai!" she jibes.
The Naga hisses like a teakettle boiling with fury, but then jerks his chin upward. He snaps something in Imperial to the slaves, who are wiggling their ears, causing them to kneel and abase themselves before his coils, then slaps their backs with a tailtip. "Come," he hisses. "We go."
Satisfied with the result of this little altercation, the female Kavi turns to catch up to the other Kavis, who are moving with ferret-like rapidity to a cluttered corner of the port.
Chiaroscuro gasps at the words, jumbled and half-pronounced but clear to his ears. . o O (Reyna Protect Me, Amen?) His ears perk as high as possible… and in an instant, he's stepped back, stuffed scarves into his pocket, scooped up his bowl and change. "Thankyou, thankyou foryourpatronage, anothershowtodohalfwayacrossthebazaar, mustgo, thankyou."
Several merchant Cervanis lead a group of Dromodons pulling heavily loaded wagons up the slope, blocking the way. One calls to the other in what might be the gutteral language of Chronotopia, as they look to see which way they should go.
Chiaroscuro dashes quickly after the Kavi 'gang', mumbling to himself. "Months ago, the Rikorrel, and now this… What riddle is this for me to unwind, Lord Rik'?"
The first Cervani stag looks down at the running Kavi and snaps out, "Halt!" Apparently they've seen Kavi sneak-thieves before.
As the Kavi appears not inclined to stop, the Cervani ducks down to try and bodily catch the mongoose.
Chiaroscuro calls, "Pardon me, must get through!" as he moves cartside… quickly jumping below the Cervani's grasp, feet planting on the side rail of the cart, then springing off. He touches down nimbly, four-pawed, on the opposite rail, scanning quickly for the Kavi…
Where did they go? As the Cervani scrambles around the Dromodons, trying to catch the wayward Kavi, Chiaroscuro's glance darts around the port, at its busiest time of the day. Kavis, Kavis, Kavis… There! Near two atypically spherical balloons amidst the hovering swarm of elongated airships, a group of Kavis appears to be paying shekels to several more Kavis and getting into the basket.
"Stop, thief!" the Cervani bellows. The other one has his hands full with the Dromodons.
Chiaroscuro leaps down quickly from the cart side, and threads through the traffic as quickly as he can, making a beeline for the spherical balloons.
The Cervani swears, then looks over the wagons to see if the Kavi stole anything. He says to his companion, "Dagh-taken Kavis! They're all thieves to the very last one."
Meanwhile, the mongoose springs through a maze of startled sailors and traders, and… arrives at the stand just as the balloon has released its mooring and begun its long descent to the fertile earth below. The ferretoids in the basket can no longer be seen directly, hidden from sight by the many-times patched fabric of their balloon.
The other balloon nearby looks to be in similar condition, held in place by a mesh of rope cords. A wash of heat pours from a small oven within the basket, a gondola large enough to hold perhaps eight. Nearby a very small Kavi says to Chiaroscuro, "Heya cuz! Here for a ride? Today, we got specials onna Half Vallee. Very cheap!"
Chiaroscuro turns to the short Kavi, bending down as he's fairly tall amongst Kavi. "Is that where they're going? How much?"
The balloon drifts steadily away, out of reach no matter how hard the mongoose might try to jump.
The little Kavi-ling says, "Fiftee shekels! Ride down, give you re-seept so you come back anytime tonight." The signboard behind him is not written but rather, depicts a crudely drawn balloon that descends to the ground, some scenes which show some mild artistic promise and presumably suggest visitors enjoying themselves on the ground, and then a passenger handing a little object to smiling Kavis who then lift him back up to Rephidim on the balloon.
It seems highly improbable that the balloons have much in the way of directional control.
Chiaroscuro hands the Kavi an entire copper, saying "Fifty extra for you to not wait for another passenger." as he jumps quickly into the gondola.
The Kaviling looks round-eyed at the copper. "Wow! A whole copper!" He runs to the other Kavis and tugs on the father's sleeve – at the moment, it seems the senior Kavi about is mending patches on a third balloon, painfully stitching by hand.
They exchange words in rapidfire Rephidim common, so quick that it might as well be a whole different language.
Chiaroscuro sighs, looking up at the rickety balloon and trying hard to convince hismelf it's airworthy. He glances nervously back to the elder Kavi…
The older Kavi limps up to the mongoose at last. "Got 'nutha copper?" he says, holding out the coin. "Balloon rides, they cost money. Can' make money iffen no balloon here for paying customers."
Chiaroscuro digs in his pocket, and drops five tenners into the other Kavi's palm. "That's myself, and two others. Gennoh?"
The elderly Kavi peers into Chiaroscuro's eyes suspiciously.
Chiaroscuro stares back, intensely, feeling each second tick away. Do his eyes seem to redden at the edges?
The Kavi patriarch nods, pocketing the coins. "Gehnoh." He calls out commands to the other ferretoids. Two brothers hop into the balloon, joining Chiaroscuro onboard, while a third drags a large sack that smells burnt onto a spot close to the burner.
The elder Kavi chants something under his breath, and then the two brothers on the ground begin untying the ropes that hold the balloon to the ground. Numerous large bags of sand hung around the basket's sides provide enough weight that it seems likely that the balloon will need to be pushed off the edge of Rephidim.
Chiaroscuro waits impatiently, arms folded in front of himself, muttering. "Rik' Sammarrin, Rik' Tumarin, Rik' Venorin, Selah." he prays in the words he's known since childhood… Rik' save me, Rik' guide me, Rik' protect me, Amen.
The ropes come loose, the two brothers on board start reeling them in, while the other two brothers on the ground walk with the balloon to give it just enough lift and push that it can…
Sail away on the wind. And that it does, the sway of the basket making Chiaroscuro a bit queasy in a way that solid airship decks don't, the ground vertiginously rocking side to side. Beneath, the other balloon has already descended most of the way down, suggesting that the ride does not take very long, but the wind appears fickle as it shoves Chiaroscuro's own balloon a different direction.
Beneath the balloon basket, a thickly forested countryside spreads out like a moss carpet, interrupted by jagged outcroppings of dun stone, and patchy clearings. A broad ribbon of sparkling blue tumbles across the landscape, a meandering river defined by mill wheels and floating logs, and shot through with white froth here and there. A fair distance from either side of the river, whitish cliffs tower over the trees, as if to hold in a rising green tide. Farther west, the tide retreats and the cliffs assert their dominance, the forest sinking into a deep trench, and eventually giving way to plains of emerald grass, squared like a checked tablecloth, and punctuated with tiny farmhouses and even tinier doll-people. Dusty paths of bright yellow squiggle past these buildings, golden threads stitched through the lush green quilt below.
The two Kavi brothers aren't bothering to stoke the oven with more fuel; instead, they keep an eye to the balloon above, and a finger lifted to feel the heat. Whenever the balloon seems to deflate a little, they release more hot air to make sure the rate of descent does not become precipitous.
Chiaroscuro sighs, in a tone seemingly both happy and sad, gazing around at the tremendous view, a country almost like his home… but his gaze flickering constantly towards the other balloon.
As the balloon continues, driven by a westward wind, the number of buildings grows denser, still scattered, but not as widely as before. They're loosely knitted together by paths, trails, and dirt roads, being slowly drawn together the farther the balloon travels, until finally, the houses are woven into a bustling township just a short ways up from the mouth of the river. The river's foaming jaws open into a jagged estuary, and spills into a glittering ocean that stretches into the horizon to embrace the sky.
The other balloon has touched down on a small field, and numerous brown-furred dots swarm out of the basket.
One of the brothers lifts a finger to the wind, then adjusts the heat, causing the balloon to rise a little, direction shifting to approach the town beneath.
Frustratingly, the tiny Kavi-like figures are disappearing into the township, mingling with the people there to an extent it's nigh impossible to sort them out.
There's a shout from below as the bottom of the basket nearly snags something. When the balloon passes over enough to see, that something turns out to be a tall statue of a Lapi bearing a sextant and a staff. It's been cleared, though, and with a bump, the balloon settles into tumultous chaos, a town square alive with gawking citizens and frantic livestock.
Chiaroscuro frowns frustratedly… but braces for impact, and looks about. At least this doesn't seem like a *bad* place for the ridiculous overcharge he paid…
The two Kavis laugh. "Hey! This close enough to town for you, city-boy?" one says. The other rummages in a bin and then takes out some broken shekels. He hands a half to Chiaroscuro, puts the other half into a pot. "Your ree-seept."
The other balloon is well out of sight now, hidden by the other buildings.
Chiaroscuro tucks it into his pocket, then steps out of the gondola carefully. "How much time do I have?"
"Oh, mebbe day, maybe two," the second Kavi replies. He points up to the hazy bulk of Rephidim, obscured by mists. "Long as Repheedim stays around, we make tours. After that, well… " he shrugs. "We go where de bizness be."
The mongoose nods briskly. "Dawn tomorrow then, I will return." He reaches to touch his Rikkorel on the right leg, and then starts walking through the village toward where he thinks the other balloon might have landed…
Half Valley Square
Anyplace in the Half Valley that's paved or cobblestoned eventually comes here. A fountain made of white stone is situated in the square's centre, with a tall statue of a Lapi standing in it, made of dark marble, except for the head and throat, cunningly fashioned from white stone and set into the statue's shoulders, mortarless but firm. Townsfolk of all kinds come and go, drawing carts, chatting amongst each other, haggling over wares, and tending to the children that scamper madly about, playing games with no rules. Elders sit around the rim of the fountain, enjoying games of k'tinza and smoking pipes stuffed with fragrant blends. On one side of the square stands the tallest building in sight, an ornately carved wooden sign proclaiming it as the official Town Hall.
In the skies overhead, occasional shapes swoop past, too quick to make out very clearly. From what can be seen, they look like strangely shaped Kujaku, or Korv in odd colours.
No kavi are in sight, at the moment. Wait, there's one! He's talking to a fish-vendor. Hmmm… on closer inspection, he's shaped like a kavi, but seems different somehow. Sleek of body, the creature's fur looks slick and heavy, with some sort of natural oil making giving it a healthy-looking sheen.
Chiaroscuro hmmms… but as this individual isn't one of the Kavi he's looking for, he keeps walking…
Moving toward the outskirts of town, where it looks like the other balloon touched down is no mean feat. The streets don't look like they're meant to accomodate as much traffic as is passing through town, and it's not too hard to tell the townsfolk from the tourists. The townsfolk are usually the ones giving Chiaroscuro suspicious looks.
Chiaroscuro keeps looking about, as he carefully moves through the crowd, with "Pardon me" and "Excuse me" said a few more times than necessary, for politeness's sake.
Behind Chiaroscuro, the two Kavi brothers are busily feeding more fuel into the oven. their balloon starts to lift off slowly, then more quickly once they're over the edge of town, releasing sand from their ballast-sacks. One waves cheerily to Chiaroscuro.
Past a spot where an upset cart and two Khatta are arguing, a pleasant-looking stonework building with a thatch roof stands by, smoke issuing from its chimney. A hanging wooden sign depicts a buoy surrounded by clouds, and is written with the words "Levitha's Blanket," and in smaller letters, "Bed and Breakfast". Merry music issues through the door, as well as the sweet cooking smells, and the clink of flatware.
Chiaroscuro sniffs… smiling at the scent of the food, but resolute to find those Kavi.
Beyond Levitha's Blanket, the traffic grows thinner, winding past a variety of trinket shops and mundane businesses. The cobbles become sparser, and eventually peter out into a wide dirt road roaming into farmlands. In the center of one of those fields, a Rhian farmer waves his fist at a balloonist just taking off…
The mongoose wanders along a dirt path, careful to avoid any of the crops, until he is closer to the Rhian. "Sir? Excuse me, Sir!"
A kavi girl's face peeps over the edge of the basket, whimsical laughter bubbling down from above. She grins, and waves at Chiaroscuro before making some faces at the farmer. The Rhian just grunts, and places his meaty hands on his hips, looking disappointed that his glaring didn't bring the balloon back down. The equine turns his head to regard the mongoose. "Well, I'm glad to see you're takin' more care to keep from flattening my plants than yer friends are."
Chiaroscuro smiles. "I am sure they did not mean to cause trouble, sir… Did you see how many of them boarded the balloon in departing?"
"I'd reckon about eight of 'em, stranger," responds the farmer, pausing to spit out a blade of grass he'd been chewing. "Didn't get too good a look, they were liftin' off by the time I came a-stompin' out here, hollarin'. Dagh-blasted rockheads trampled a good quarter of my field."
Chiaroscuro frowns slightly, then lifts his head, and nods. "A shame indeed sir, for these fine-looking crops to be troubled so."
The Rhian shrugs heavy-set shoulders, and rubs the back of his neck. "Well… they should recover okay, least if no-one goes landin' balloons in 'em anymore." He looks at the mongoose more closely. "I guess ya weren't with 'em, eh kavi?"
Chiaroscuro shakes his head. "No… though I am trying to find some who may have just landed. They… " He pauses, stammers… "They may be close kin of mine, of the line of Rik'Tik'Tav, and I followed them on another balloon- one which thankfully landed in the town, not on any crops. You did not see where any of them left, heading into town perhaps?"
"Rick-kick-kav? What's… nah, I won't ask." The Rhian looks up, and points at the stretch of road Chiaroscuro got off to enter. "Yeah, I seen some come into town, jabberin' a mile-a-minute. They stopped off here to pester me a bit, then went scamperin' into town."
Chiaroscuro nods… "Did they mention anything, where they might go in town? It is important I find them if I can… " he says, fingering his Rikkorel abstractedly.
The equine shakes his head. "Nah, they just … " The Rhian trails to a stop as he spies Chiaroscuro's rikkorel, his bushy brow lowering and darkening. His tone changes slightly, there's just a bit of an edge discernable to his baritone now. "They're not here now, stranger. I think you better move along."
Chiaroscuro's mouth quirks slightly to the side, and he nods. "Of course sir. Thank you for your time and assistance." He turns back towards the town, walking with his tail drooped a bit more than normal.
The stern-looking farmer keeps his gaze fixed on the mongoose's neck until Chiaroscuro gets back onto the cobbles, then turns around and begins working on straightening his plants back out.
Chiaroscuro walks down the cobbled road, thinking over the events so far. "I wonder… " He mutters to himself, over and over, letting the thoughts trail off into silence as he returns to town, searching for the other Kavi.
Back on the road into Half Valley, the street seems, if anything, even more clogged than before. In particular, long carts of milled lumber and produce are being pulled here and there by Dromodon. The upset cart outside Levitha's Blanket is gone, along with the Khatta owners, with nary a trace of its passing. Patrons come to and from the roadside inn, snippets of conversation and laughter issuing from the door for the brief moments it's open.
Chiaroscuro sniffs deeply as he passes the Inn… and realizes he didn't have breakfast yet. "A few moments for a meal cannot hurt… " he says as he makes his way carefully inside the Inn.
Levitha's Blanket, Bed'n'Breakfast
Stout wooden timbers compose this medium sized inn, thick enough to make it look smaller than it really is. Not so much cramped as cozy. A fire blazes in a large hearth ringed with rocking chairs, and long tables with split-log benches occupy a section next to soda-bottle windows tinted bright shades. A counter made of oak, somewhat pitted, but lovingly polished, seperates a kitchen and a large row of casks from the common room. Around the corner, creaky stairs lead up to a second floor.
A nutshell hanging from the door clatters as Chiaroscuro enters. It must be mealtime at the present, because the place is packed to the gills. The log tables are crowded with people chatting and feasting, such that a lot of people need to stand over the bar. The rocking chairs are occupied by some well-dressed Lapi and Skeeks, who are talking amongst themselves. A high, musical voice from behind the counter calls, "Welcome to Levitha's Blanket! I'll be with you in just a minute!"
Chiaroscuro looks around… taking a good look at the place, and absently checking his moneypouch by feel.
*Jingle-jingle* Still comfortably fat.
A few of the patrons by the counter move off to the main dining area to join some friends, and a gap opens up, revealing a little girl, a white-furred Cervani doe peering over the counter. Her large bright eyes fix on Chiaroscuro, and the girl waves. "Hi!"
Chiaroscuro pads over towards the doe, and smiles. "Hello there. Do I give a lunch order to you, or are there menus?"
"Oh, we've got some menus written up, but they seem to wander all over the place," chirps the little Cervani. Hmm… actually, on closer inspection, she's not Cervani. She has a pair… no, make that four long ears on the sides of her head, rabbit-like, but sharp on the tips. They twitch as she turns and calls over her shoulder, "Pond! Pooond! Please bring me a menu card!"
There's a few crashing noises from the kitchen, and despite a small wince, the little girl's expression stays quite perky. "Sorry about that, sir! It's been busier than usual with Rephidim overhead. I usually have time to greet all my patrons individually." The girl smiles brightly. "I'm Piksil… and again, welcome. Did you want something to drink while you wait?"
Chiaroscuro nods. "Well, without Rephidim overhead, I would not be here myself. Water, please. And a glass of fruit juice… surprise me which kind. Oh, and I am Chiaroscuro. Pleased to meet you, Piksil."
Piksil ducks under the counter for a moment, coming up with some colourful jugs labelled in an unfamiliar language. She nibbles her lip for a moment, choses the one on the far right, and fills a clean glass with a bright greenish liquid. The girl sets this and a glass of water on two cork coasters, which she scoots forward. "There you go, Chiaroscuro! Pond will be along with a menu in a bit, I'm sure. What brings you to the Half Valley?
Chiaroscuro takes a deep sip of the water, and folds his arms on the counter, leaning on it a bit. "Well, if I were a poet, I would say 'chasing my past' or 'searching for lost family'. As I am not, I shall just say a balloon brought me here… a few minutes after a first balloon, with some Kavi aboard I must find." He pauses to sip on the green juice, experimentally.
The juice is rather sweet, almost too much so, with little pulpy bits of whatever fruit was squeezed for it. They add some tartness to the drink, which is quite cold, oddly. Odder yet, the seems to be something scribbled on the coaster it was sitting on. "Mmm, a balloon you say? You must… " Piksil pauses to take a mug from a patron returning from the dining room, refilling it from a keg behind her. She slides the foaming mug to the patron, and continues, "… must be with those kavi tour-guides."
Chiaroscuro quirks an eyebrow slighly. "I am not with any others, though the kavi balloonist brought me here… are there 'tours' here often?" He drinks the green juice, smacking his lips slightly.
The clattering in the kitchen seems more orderly now, rhythmic. Probably plates being re-stacked. After looking over her shoulder, Piksil clucks her tongue, and shakes her head. "Oh, no… it's highly unusual that we get many visitors here. When Rephidim passes by, there's always a scramble to get our exports out. Fresh money comes in, and the k-… ah, and enterprising folks will usually come in with it." Her eyes dart to the coaster, then back to Chiaroscuro's face. Meanwhile, a burly-looking Jupani strides up to the counter, eyeing the mongoose.
Chiaroscuro chuckles… one eyebrow raised slightly, at the quite adult conversation of the apparent child. "No need for euphemisms, Piksil. I would know what Kavi are like, yes?", he says with a wink… then glances down at the coaster's writing.
The coaster reads, "Please put the talisman away."
The Jupani looks Chiaroscuro over, and glances back at the little 'doe' behind the counter. "This guy botherin' you, Piksil?" The girl replies with a bubbly laugh, "Oh, it's sweet of you to be concerned, Lemnur, but he's an old friend I know! We were just talking shop! Pond, where's that menu?" The noises from the kitchen finally cease, and what appears to be a huge zelak strides from the back room, clutching a comparitively small card in one claw. Lemnur shrugs, and moves off.
Chiaroscuro blinks at the coaster's writing, then mouth-quirks slightly… setting his drink down atop the coaster, especially the writing. He adjust-ruffles his robe so his Rikkorel slips inside, invisible save for the neckstraps.
A grateful look briefly crosses Piksil's face, and disappears when she takes a moment to wave at some patrons filing out the door. "Thanks for stopping by! Come again!" The crowd around the counter grows thinner as table-space is freed up. Pond silently towers over the bar, moving only to lay the menu in front of Chiaroscuro. Looking satisfied, the diminutive doe-like girl lowers her voice. "Thanks… a word of warning, friend… magic isn't looked on fondly around here. Sorry I had to hassle you like that… "
Chiaroscuro takes the menu, not really looking at it, and speaks back to Piksil in a quiet bass tone… "No hassle at all, and warning taken… but I think I shall need to talk to you later, in private, to understand how some things are around here. Maybe later today, or at night?" He quickly glances down, and runs his finger across the menu. "Hmmmm… "
Meanwhile, Pond stands over Piksil like a great chitin barricade, the feelers on his head waving back and forth like fortress banners. The proprietess bumps into him once with a squeek, and huffs. "Go on, Pond, back to the kitchen with you! Make yourself useful!"
"I'll take the soup and sandwiches," Chiaroscuro says, voice rising to conversational in volume but still bass-toned. His finger taps on the menu, in one spot, until he catches Piskil's attention. "And… "
Chiaroscuro's claw taps letters on the menu, spelling 'Sundown', then stopping. "And… that will be all, I think."
The doe keeps her bright eyes on Chiaroscuro carefully, then nods. "Coming right up, sir! Pond, a blue-plate two, and kick the paddlewheel without a bugle!"
Whatever that meant, it got Pond in motion, judging by the renewed crashing noises in the kitchen. This time, Piksil goes to join him. It's not long before she's back with a wooden tray bearing a ceramic bowl and plate. Steam rises from a chunky-looking soup, set next to a thick sandwich on crusty bread, divided in half. "Will there be anything else for you, sir?"
Chiaroscuro shakes his head, moving his drinks… though not the coaster with the writing… onto the tray. "This looks like it shall hold me until sundown, Lady Piksil. Thank you. Should I pay you now, or after I am done eating?"
"If it doesn't hold you till then, I'm sure a taste of fine home cooking will bring you back!" giggles the little girl. She waves one slim paw at the mention of money. "You look hungry. Tuck in, I'll just bring you your tab later, ah? Give Pond a hollar if you need anything."
Chiaroscuro nods. "I shall, thank you." He looks around… searching for a space to sit, as uncrowded as possible.
The dining room's loud chatter has quieted to a continuous drone of idle conversation. With the departure of a large group earlier, a good deal of space has been freed up around the long tables, and some of the round, smaller ones near the hearth. The nutshell clattering over the inn door, and the stomp of paws and boots on the floor probably means it won't be for long.
Chiaroscuro settles down near the edge of one of the long booths, with no one close… save for a Lapi across the table from him. He picks up his sandwich, chewing on it testingly…
The Lapi makes a point of ignoring Chiaroscuro as the mongoose sits and tastes the food. The bread is quite fresh, soft and chewy under a crunchy crust. Crisp riverweed-sprouts provide most of the texture of the sandwich, mixed in with water chestnuts, and some sort of spicy oil.
Chiaroscuro mms, surprised slightly at the tastiness of an all-vegetable sandwich. He finishes half of it, saving a chunk of the bread and dipping it in the soup… which he starts working on before finishing the rest of his sandwich.
The soup isn't half bad either, very fragrant and rich, with chunks of diced asparagus and carrots cooked, but not mushy. As the mongoose dines, patrons filter in and out like a living tide, the Lapi eventually moving away. It would seem the tide is lowering, as fewer people come to replace those leaving, and Piksil's cheery greetings grow less frequent. Some of the elderly gentlemen in the rocking chairs have moved along or been collected by younger people, leaving only a few now.
Chiaroscuro finishes his meal, wriggling his fingers slightly in mid-air… a bit fidgety. He takes his tray and dishware back up to the counter.
Pond is standing behind the counter, stock-still except for his antennae. They quirk in a few different directions at Chiaroscuro's approach. There's some melodious humming from the kitchen proper.
Chiaroscuro puts the tray on the counter… and regards the Zelak quizzically, raising up on his toes slightly but unable to catch a glimpse of the four-eared girl. With a slight sigh, he turns to the Zelak. "Here is my tray, Pond… how much do I owe for the meal and drinks?"
The tall bug picks up the tray wordlessly, and treads ponderously back into the kitchen, crossing a few long beams of golden light issuing from the slats of a shuttered window. Piksil's voice can be heard. "Pond, what're… oh! Well, just set it over there, you can wash them later." The proprietess appears again, walking from the kitchen, and drying her paws with a dish-cloth. "Hullo there, Chiaroscuro! Did you enjoy your meal?"
Chiaroscuro nods twice to Piksil, long muzzle bobbing down and up. "Quite so! One of the best soups I have had in a while." He smiles. "I shall have to return here tonight for supper."
"Lovely!" The white doe claps her hands, looking genuinely pleased. "Let's see, I have your tab written here… Pond, would you please set up the 'closed' sign, and start cleaning up? Ah, here it is… let's see… one blue-two special, kick the paddlewheel without a bugle, and drinks. That'll come to four and a half shekels, please."
Pond goes about his business, the bug's presence encouraging dawdling patrons to finish up their lunches, so Piksil can start on preparing the inn for supper. Only the elders don't bother moving, and Pond leaves them alone.
Chiaroscuro nods, reaching into his moneypouch and withdrawing a 5-shekel piece. "Here you are, Lady Piksil. No change necessary."
Piksil accepts the coin, and pops it into a pocket on her simple dress. "Thank you, sir! Do come back soon, won't you? The inn will only be closed for an hour while Pond cleans up and we have our own lunches."
Chiaroscuro nods to Piksil. "I ought be back this evening, around sundown. I'd be glad for more of your cooking." His voice drops a bit, even as most others have headed out. "And that chance to talk." He leans back up from the counter, smiling. "Fare thee well, Lady Piksil."
The white doe nods in reply, and says, "You too, Chi-… " *Crash!* A look of chagrin crosses Piksil's face, and with a quick wave, she hurries out to the common room. "Oh, Pond… can't you be more careful?"
Chiaroscuro smiles sympathetically at the doe's plight, and heads out from the tavern door, back into the streets of town.
Though the lunch crowd from Levitha's Blanket quieted down, things still seem fairly active outside. Merchant carts continue to come and go, and the sun is occasionally eclipsed by shadows from large Rephidimian supply-ships drifting overhead, presumeably laden with trade goods from the Half Valley.
Chiaroscuro walks along the streets, carefully looking at the buildings, and enjoying the change of scenery. "I ought to have come here regardless, " He says to himself, heading in a vaguely-defined circle around the town's edges.
On the outskirts of town, things aren't nearly so crowded. More fields grow a variety of crops, and farmhands can be seen carefully tending them. Here, a Dromodon yoked to a plow helps a Lapi prepare last years fallow field for planting. There, a Skeek keeps an eye on imported Savanites tending an orchard, buds beginning to form on the trees with spring on its way. Fields give way eventually to the sounds of rushing water, coming for a wide river.
Chiaroscuro's hands keep flicking upwards to his neck, then dropping back down to his sides, causing momentary frowns on his normally cheerful face. He keeps walking, taking deep breaths of the country air. He hmms slightly, as he reaches the river's edge…
Tall reeds, rushes, and Khatta-tail plants rise from most of the bank here, interrupted by the occasional tree clinging precariously to land while the water gnaws soil out from under its roots. From this vantage, one can see a good distance downriver. Large Rhians are collecting logs from the river, that're being directed by those thick-furred kavilike fellows. The kavi-kin are remarkable swimmers. Every so often, where logs tangle with each other, one or two will pop abruptly out of the water, and push the snarl until it comes undone.
The mongoose looks up and down the river carefully… "Ah!" There's a bridge just upriver. He ambles closer to it, gaining a clearer view… it's a thin rope-and-plank bridge, narrow and swaying in the wind.
Chiaroscuro starts across the bridge… taking a few moments to adapt to the swaying before moving faster than a snail's pace.
Given how wide the river is, this bridge isn't too underwhelming a bit of engineering. The ropes creak, but they seem fairly thick, and not overly weather-worn. In the water below, dark sleek shapes dart around underwater, occasionally surfacing for a breath of water. Some of them reveal themselves as the kavi-kin, floating on their backs for a moment to look up at Chiaroscuro, before submerging once more.
Chiaroscuro hmms in thought, and leans over the bridge-edge… "Hello down there! Might I ask you a question?" he calls in Rephidim Common.
One of the shapes bursts to the surface, and perches on a log floating below the bridge. "Hoy, up there! What dya want? We're busy, so make it quick!"
The waterlogged kavi-kritter wobbles a bit on his perch as he finishes speaking, then hops to another log when his previous ride gets too far downriver. He must have practice at this, as he's managing to stay pretty much beneath the bridge.
"Please tell me if you have seen any other tourist Kavi crossing this bridge today?" Chiaroscuro quickly asks. "If so, which way? That is all I need to know."
"Nah, hain't seen any but you!" calls the slender creature. He frowns, pointing back townward. "I know the type, though! They're all busy in town, livin' it up!" The log-unjammer leaps to another floating trunk, waving his arms a little to keep from tipping.
Chiaroscuro nods. "Thank you, sir! Any place in town they tend to favor?"
The log beneath the creature begins rolling in the water, and the kavi-kin is forced to jog to keep from slipping off it. "Don't rightly know!" he shouts as his short legs try to keep up. "Iffen they stop, it's usually to trade at the market! Otherwise, they go to the docks, to the Star knows where!" He starts to say something else, but the log wins the race, dunking its rider back into the water. A voice from the bank shouts, "Stop messing around, Jatley, and help us!"
"Thank you!" Chiaroscuro calls down, and scurries back towards the town he came from. "The market, he said… "
Weaving through the crowds is starting to get easier, it's really not unlike a day in the Rephidim Bazaar. The mongoose makes his way down the main street, and is soon back near the town square. People selling produce and livestock… yep, this is probably the place.
"Fresh fish!" calls a water-kavi, from behind a barrow-cart. The cart is laden with cool riverweed, and layered with a variety of fish and crustaceans. (A few of which are fresh enough to attempt escape, every so often.)
Chiaroscuro bounces up onto his toes, balancing digitigradely to gain a few more centimeters to his eye-level. He looks around carefully for other Kavi… eyes darting back and forth.
Other than those strange look-alikes, there don't seem to be any here. Granted, it's pretty hard to see, even on tippy-toe. The crowds shift around from seller to seller, peoples of all sorts. Lapi, Skeeks, Khattas, Jupani… even strange looking Kujaku every so often. But conspicuously… no actual kavi.
Chiaroscuro hmmms, keeping digitgrade as he walks about the market… with a bit of a shopper's eye towards the goods.
Looks to be mostly food here. A lot of the patrons are haggling with the vendors over dinner. When shoppers actually notice Chiaroscuro, they frown slightly, and keep a watchful eye on him.
Some clopping noises begin approaching from the east, light at first, but growing louder. The crowd in that direction seems to part a bit, too.
Chiaroscuro notices the extra attention on him… and for his part, tries not to ask suspiciously, smiling easily as he walks around. He seems not to notice the hoofbeats.
The milling shoppers seem to take notice, though. They hurriedly press in toward either side of the road, enough to where a wide gap opens, admitting a tall and heavily-muscled Rhian, deep gray and dappled with light spots, into the square, followed by a motley group. Though dressed as working class townsfolk, they all have in common leather coifs worn over their heads, and padded leather vests. Most of them are wearing longbows over their shoulders, including the Rhian, whose bow is thick and varnished black.
Chiaroscuro looks up, pushed back along with the rest of the crowd… gazing up at the Rhian and company. He whispers tightly to a Skeek next to him, "Who are they?"
The Skeek doesn't look back at the mongoose. He just replies, "That's the Half Valley militia. I take it you're not from around-… " The Skeek trails off as the Rhian spots Chiaroscuro, and says something short and abrupt to another bowman next to him. When the Rhian begins approaching, the Skeek finally takes a look at Chia, and squeaks a little.
Chiaroscuro looks to the Rhian, eyebrows lifted slightly in confusion… silent for the moment.
"You there. Kavi," rumbles the hefty equine. "You are to come with me." He doesn't get any more specific than that, and doesn't look for a moment like he anticipates a reply, starting to turn away after speaking.
Chiaroscuro coughs. "Why, sir?" he says in a polite tone. His forehead furrows quizzically.
The Rhian stops, and he looks back at Chiaroscuro, one of his eyebrows rising slightly. "On my authority as Marshal, I am bringing you to the guardstation for questionning," he replies, tail whisking.
Chiaroscuro nods to the Marshal. "As you say, sir… though I am rather confused." he replies, following behind him.
"It won't take long," responds the Rhian gruffly, the rest of his band falling into step as well. Down the road, the odd group seems to make good time, as the townsfolk part to let them pass. "You are not in any trouble. Some of my men have seen you around, however, kavi, and you're not selling anything. The guardstation will be an easier place to speak than the market."
Chiaroscuro nods to the Rhian as he relaxes back down to a plantigrade stride. "Understood, sir."
The guardstation is a bleak looking building, little more than a large stone box with tiny slits for windows, and a heavy hardwood door, almost more like a slab on hinges. Inside, the militiamen disperse, some returning to patrol, others disappearing into other rooms. The Marshal directs Chiaroscuro to have a seat on one of the benches built into the stone walls.
Chiaroscuro sits down on the bench, tail flicking unrythmically. He blinks a few times as his eyes grow accustomed to the dimmer light inside.
The Rhian obviously doesn't place much stock in pleasantries, seating himself behind a desk lit with an oil lamp, and taking up a scroll and quill. "Name."
"Chiaroscuro Themyst." the mongoose replies.
The Marshal doesn't bother asking how to spell it. "What is your business here?"
Chiaroscuro takes a deep breath. "Well, sir… though you may find this difficult to believe, I am an Exile, though my appearance is much like a Kavi." He lits his left hand up, displaying his fingers… four regular fingers, and one thumb. "I am from the land of Kitellia, on the plant Tarrah."
This illicits a loud snort from the Rhian, who looks up, skepticism written across his face. "Then what… " he begins. He's interrupted by the door opening, a jovial-looking black Lapi with a white face poking his head around the corner. "Hey, Roan! I thought I might… " He spies the mongoose, and clucks his tongue. "I hope you didn't haul this poor guy in just to pelt him with questions, Roan."
Chiaroscuro turns his eyes to the Lapi a moment, but remains quiet, tail flicking some more.
"Yes, Magistrate," comes the terse reply. The Lapi sighs, and shakes his head, closing the door behind him, making sure not to close it on his long robes. "Marshal, really… I know you're anxious about that missing hunter, but there's no call for dragging someone in here because you don't recognize him." The Lapi smiles at the mongoose. "Dreadfully sorry for all this, my friend. There's been a little bit of a stir lately. I'm Warren Whitewhiskers."
Chiaroscuro nods to Warren, smiling at the rabbit. "I am Chiaroscuro Themyst, sir. There is no need to be sorry, I do not mind being asked questions… though I would appreciate a chance to ask some of my own."
"Certainly, certainly," agrees the rabbit briskly, seating himself on the edge of the desk. "I was just coming to collect the Marshal for our usual k'tinza game, but it can wait."
Chiaroscuro nods, and turns back to Roan. "You were asking me, Marshal?"
The Rhian grumbles something under his breath. In a louder voice, he says, "One of my men spotted that talisman you carry. Maybe I can believe you're an Exile, if you're a mage. Again, then… what business does a mage have here?"
Warren nods slightly, his lop ears shaking behind him. "I must admit, I've never seen a kavi mage before. Ah, no offense of course."
"Well sir, my 'talisman' as you put it… " He carefully brings his Rikkorel out from his collar, letting it hang around his neck, "Is simply a religious device , a reminder of the god whom I serve, Rik'Tik'Tav. It has no magic of its own, and I am no mage… and I do not understand why it might signify I am." He returns the Rikkorel to beneath his robes.
Marshal Roan frowns deeply. "We've seen some kavi carrying symbols around lately, weird little rocks with shapes like that carved into them. They keep to themselves, and say strange things. Maybe I'd be content to just let it be, if a big-game hunter hadn't been reported missing, lately."
Chiaroscuro shakes his head. "That is very strange indeed sir. I had not thought Rik'Tik'Tav known in this world… but I may be mistaken. There is a hunter missing, you say?"
"Yes. He was apparently going to Levitha's Pearl to hunt, but was reported gone before the ferry left that day," rumbles the Marshal, folding his own heavy arms across his chest. "Half Valley's a quiet place… I see to that. I don't like the look of those symbols though… I can't think of what else they'd mean."
Warren interrupts the Rhian. "You're jumping to conclusions, Roan. It's silly to think that just because he wears an odd-looking symbol, there's weird rituals afoot making people vanish."
Chiaroscuro quirks an eyebrow, and says, "Sir… was this hunter a Naga?"
The Marshal's own brow lowers, making the top of his black mane fall over the bridge of his nose a little. "How did you know that?" he demands.
Chiaroscuro frowns, folding his arms over his chest. "On my home planet, sir… my people are at war with a race much like the Naga. We have been since Rik'Tik'Tav first faced Nakh, the Black Cobra, in battle. When I came here… it has been very, very hard for me not to hate the Nagai here myself, though they are not the ones who have done me wrong."
Chiaroscuro continues, "If… these strange Kavi worship Rik'Tik'Tav as I do… " He sighs. "It might be possible they have this antipathy towards Naga as well. Though I know not *how* they have learned of Lord Rik'." He shakes his head back and forth, in confusion.
The Lapi looks distinctly worried now, his nose twitching. The Marshal looks back at Warren. "This is too strange, Magistrate. I suggest we keep him in custody until this thing is resolved."
"That's not fair to him, Roan," protests Warren. "He might not be involved at all, and those kavi might have nothing to do with the hunter. It'd be unjust to imprison him on a coincidence."
Chiaroscuro interjects, "Sir… I swear to you I did not harm this Naga, nor know anything of it. I came here from Rephidim just today following a Kavi who bore a Rikkorel-" Here, he taps his chest, "rather like mine, and spoke words in my tounge. Perhaps they are another exile from my planet, perhaps not, but I *must* find out."
A deep snort issues from Marshal's wide nostrils. "Well… then we're both interested in finding them. Magistrate, if you will not let me hold this ka-… this Ex-… whatever he is, at least let me assign a guard to him. If what he says is true, maybe he'll aid us."
Chiaroscuro helpfully says, "My species is 'Mongoose', Marshal." His short whiskers twitch slightly at mention of a guard.
The Magistrate sighs, and strokes his long whiskers thoughtfully. "Well… I am concerned… but Mr. Themyst, as you are looking for these kavi anyway, would you be willing to work with us? As the Marshal insists, I'm afraid we can't simply release you."
"It's your choice, stranger," grunts Roan. "From what little dealings we've had with these kavi, they've been on the ferry to the Pearl and back. It's dangerous territory, it'd be safer here."
Chiaroscuro strokes the scruff on his chin in thought… then nods. "Yes, I am quite willing to help you if I can, although… " He frowns. "I left Rephidim very quickly, and did not plan on staying here past tomorrow. It may be hard for me to return if the sky-island moves before both our mysteries have been made clear."
The Lapi nods, his whiskers bobbing. "Oh, yes, of course, of course! If you can shed some light on what's been going, I'll be happy to arrange for room and board until we can book passage for you on an airship back home, if it comes to that. Perhaps even something a little extra?"
"I don't see that he needs any sort of… " "Hush, Marshal." The Rhian's teeth click together as his mouth closes, his face hard.
Chiaroscuro nods to the Lapi… "Then I will stay, sir. Room and board, but no extra needed. A lantern asks nothing but oil when it shines."
"Well said, well said indeed, my boy," enthuses Warren. He opens his paws, looking apologetic. "As Magistrate, it's my business to try to accomodate people, but I'm afraid this situation demands we impose on you. Marshal Thistlewithers doesn't always agree with it, but I try to assume the best in people, even outsiders. With this service, we will only be too happy… no, we'll insist on rewarding you."
The Marshal ignores all of this, raising one large hand to his mouth. "Men! Get in here! I need a volunteer!"
Chiaroscuro smiles. "I need no reward, sir, but I will not refuse your generosity. Thank you."
Some of the doors open, admitting militiamen in various states of awareness. Some of them are coming from a dormitory it seems, while a few are still holding half-eaten sandwiches or unstrung bows.
"Lookout, coming through!" A foot appears a brief second before the small body that slides between Lemnur and the guardsman beside him. A bright-eyed rat snaps to attention at the end of his slalom. "Watchya need boss?"
One of the militiamen, the Jupani that the Skreek just shoved, scowls at his antagonist. He rubs some sleep out of his eyes, and stands to attention as best he can with his leather vest half-on. "Yes, Marshal?"
Chiaroscuro watches the assembled guardsmen, still sitting on the bench… stifling a chuckle at the Skreek's entrance.
The Rhian leans forward, clasping his meaty hands on his desk. "I need a volunteer to keep an eye on this fellow," he rumbles, jerking his head over at Chiaroscuro. "He'll be helping us with an investigation."
"I'm ready boss Marshal sir. I'm pepped, I'm packing and ready to stroll. These guys are still figuring out what day it is." The Skreek looks over at the mongoose, "An investigation? I'm great with investigating. Let me at it."
Lemnur grumbles as he gets his vest the rest of the way on. "Right, who let Kal into the sugarfir again?" The Marshal ignores him, nodding. "Good. Zieekal, I'll brief you in a bit. This task might mean a trip to Levitha's Pearl."
Meanwhile, Warren moves away from the militiamen and Roan to speak with Chiaroscuro. "Now then, will there be anything you need for this?"
"It's not sugarfir, it's just natural energy like the kind that got my uncle Hannon the best rower award five times in the rumblerocks slave galley." Kal says brightly, "The Pearl? Okay, let me at it! I've always wanted to hunt big game."
"You're not going there to bag the Observer, Zieekal," snorts Roan, writing something on a scrap of parchment. It seems to be a note about next-of-kin. "You'll be keeping an eye on that kavi. Well, he's not a kavi, but… forget it, I'll explain later. I guess the Magistrate will want you to help him too, but keep your guard up. Take whatever you need from the armory."
Thinking carefully for a few moments, Chiaroscuro replies, "Just some information… things I would be best to avoid here, details on what has passed with the Kavi already… and directions to a tailor in town." he gestures down at his outfit… "I will need to buy a change or two of outfit… and before you offer, kind sir, I will be able to pay for it myself."
"I will not let you down sir!" The Skreek snaps his hand up in a salute, "anything from the armoury, anything? Oh mamacakes! Can I bring a wagon? Okay, okay. Only what I can carry and use, I know."
The Lapi tugs his whiskers a little. "Hmmm… well, the Half Valley is relatively safe, my friend. Since our limited relations with kavi have been somewhat strained in the past, you might find yourself less than welcome in most places. One of my sons is apprenticed to a tailor, I'm sure they can happily provide you anything you need. You might wish to bring some food too… have you met Piksil?"
Chiaroscuro nods! "The Cervani youth? Why yes. I ate lunch at her establishment… and was planning to return there for supper." His tail wags slightly.
"But probably no where near as unwelcome as my aunt Jemmirah who was kicked out of no less than three, no five towns for her wanton ways." Kal says brightly, then adds, "oh, sorry to interupt. Just giving a comparison feel kinda thing."
Roan heaves a gusty sigh. "Yes, only what you can carry, Zieekal. You're a valued river-archer… but if I get so much as one complaint, I'll see that all your arrows are tipped with skeedat shells, so you're no longer a menace to the populace."
"Good, Chiaroscuro, I'm sure she can set you up," replies the Lapi, with a smile. He straightens up, stretching his back. "Mmph… just tell her that Magistrate Whitewhiskers sent you."
"Yes SIR! No snicking hats off with arrows on this mission. I understand." The Skreek salutes again. "I won't shoot any clotheslines either."
Chiaroscuro nods, standing up from the bench as well, and bowing slightly to the Lapi. "I shall. Thank you once more, sir."
"Don't mention it," replies Warren, opening to door to the guardstation. "I'm placing some faith in you, so please don't disappoint me." Roan just rubs his temples, and stands up as well. "I still say this is a crazy idea… "
"Alright! Pearl Valley ready or not, here I come!" Kal bounds happily out the door, making a beeline, or rat-streak for the armoury. "They better have a zolk suit in my size, none of this one size fits all stuff."
"I will do all I can, sir." Chiaroscuro says to the Lapi, and heads out the door… blinking again in the sunlight. .oO(Lord Rik'… once again, you send your servant on a path he would never have seen on his own. Guide me truly.)
