It Is the Tide, Act 1

[Shining Lotus Sage]

Sweet Rest Hilltop

The sun rises over one of millions of hamlets where its worship is expressly forbidden.


Smoke no longer rises over the same town, but the air for ten miles in any direction still smells of it so strongly it forms a flavor on the tongue. Under the smoke, where you'd expect to find flowers and algae and musk and all the scents of the living jungle surrounding this village, there is nothing. It isn't overpowered, it isn't ruined. It's absent, as though the breath of the land coughed once on its pipe and hasn't inhaled again since. The birds have stopped singing, but they haven't left. The high branches are full of them, silently flitting through their birdish days and nights. Down ground level, things are a little less weird. Rain passed through not long ago, and the road is still sucking mud, but that's half the year, here in the far southwest. As long as you keep walking south, further from real civilization, you'd never notice a thing wrong.


But try turning around.


Try it.


Walk for an hour. A day. Go north and north as the sun goes west and west and marks off the end of another chance to flee. Then look back to where your footsteps turned around, not fifty yards back. Now do you understand? There's something down here that won't let you leave. The birds don't seem to be troubled by it, as they pass every which way overhead. And maybe it's just the road. Maybe the jungle isn't a greedy throat swallowing travelers inevitably toward its far end, because the jungle is endless. But when you squint into the shadows, and the waving canopy creates them in abundance, the shadows plainly squint back, eyes or no. That is no safe place, says the monkey bit of any sound brain. That is where the Predator lives, ready to pounce on you. Or wrap you in its coils. Or sting you, tiny and inconsequential and perfectly deadly. The road is a throat, but the jungle is all mouth, and the teeth drip with—


But this is lurid, and unnecessary. The sun is rising. For now, it's easy to ignore the shadows. It's easy to walk on, heedless and proud, toward Sunlight Rain. It's easy to never notice how hard it is to choose anything else.


It's not easy to get into town, though. The palisade, however rough-hewn and inexpert, surrounds the scorched hill completely. At the end of the road, where the buildings used to be—there are still holes where the timbers of house-stilts were uprooted—only one small, stone structure remains, wisps of smoke rising from its chimney, but not from over the town. Sunlight Rain has moved to higher ground, and the guards are not keen on newcomers.

 

[Random Word]

"I don't think you heard me," Sun Minh growls, her voice a quiet edge tempered first by decades laying low the mighty, then by a year mired in the fetid corruption which breeds best in the deepest shadows of the Periphery, and finally by three days spent cutting a bloody swathe through a jungle which she has learned harbours in its deepest heart an undying antipathy for all the trappings of authority. They had long since been curtailed from trappings to merely trap. Her mind wanders to the badge of office pinned at her lapel, but she resists the urge to finger it. Counterproductive. Focus. "Open the gate." A bead of sweat drips from her nose and runs down her breastplate. For the thousandth time she regrets donning it in this sweltering heat, and for the thousandth time she had done it anyway. It had been weeks since anyone had tried to stab her, but it was looking increasingly likely this unexpected streak of good fortune was about to come to an abrupt and violent end.


She crosses her arms and stares hard at the shirtless boy with the cobbled together spear atop the wall. "Not only am I patently not a 'shadow tiger'," her voice dripping with disdain, "With the garrison gone, I am clearly your only hope of halting this and seeing whoever is responsible brought to swift justice."

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

The gatesman waves his spear a little less emphatically at that point. The first few shakes were enough, of course, for Sun Minh to take his measure and dismiss him as an untrained fool. The thickly accented Low Realm wasn't helping his image, either.


"You wait here!" he shouts, and turns his back to call down to someone with actual authority, one hopes. Apparently, they don't do "ranged weaponry" here, because the spot between his shoulder blades is completely undefended and easily in range of a flame piece. Three of the nearest - completely undisciplined! - guards press as close as their platforms allow, but merely to gawk and reveal the use of platforms inside the wall. It would be embarrassing to a real army.


"Ki-Lan! The rice-face woman has a mule's head! She will not leave!" This bit, he uses the local Firetongue for, probably assuming the foreigners won't speak it. Maybe he didn't recognize Snake-in-Pot with so much face missing. The implications of speaking thus in front of the bedraggled former slaves is left as an exercise for the reader.


"She has the Empress' icon, too! You better come deal with her yourself!" And then he just hops down, out of sight. The other three stare as shamelessly as one might at a viper.


Meanwhile, the rhythmic clinking from inside the stone building has stopped. The glass-scrap beads that hang in place of a door tinkle when a rough, blackened hand pushes them aside, and the woman who emerges behind that hand is just as sooty and rough. Her leathers are pitted and streaked with flux, and her gait, for the twenty paces it takes to approach the Magistrate's group, is a slow trundle. She smiles without a scrap of guile, and the white of her teeth shines against blackened lips.


"Please, Sister, don't worry about them. We haven't had anyone from the Realm since the garrison pulled out, and they're doing the best they can to fill in until the soldiers get back." Someone throws a banana peel at her, but misses. She scowls up at the wall, but not fast enough to catch anyone in the act.


"Ki-Lan will let you in when she gets back, I'm sure! She respects who she should."


Her Low Realm sounds as though she learned it from a patrician's staff, much better than the guard's. That last sentence, though, comes out with the awkward timing of something that translates poorly.

 

[Random Word]

"I am Cathak Sun Minh," she declares imperiously, the uncrossing of her arms her only concession to the niceties of greeting. "Who are you, and what can you tell me about these killings? My primary purpose here is not to save this settlement," she warns, "But if I can I will halt these attacks on you and your people and see whoever - or whatever - is responsible brought to justice before I leave." One of the many beads of sweat running down her face runs down the side of her nose, annoyingly close to her right eye, and she resists the urge to wipe her face. It does not serve to show any sign of weakness, especially not for such a fleeting discomfort which is sure to return in minutes.

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

The smith knows enough about imperials to recognize when she should formal up, it seems. She hastily clasps her hands low in front and bows respectfully.


"Linha Xiar-zi," she blurts out, "and I know of the family Cathak. My forge is at your service." Her forge looks to be slowly sinking into the mud, honestly.


"We have been attacked in the night, over and over, by fierce beasts that will not show their faces. Many people thought it was tigers, but Ki-Lan says it must be evil spirits. She says that tigers do not leave the dead where we can find them. I trust her; there is no one who knows the forest better. That is all I know, honored one. Please, return the garrison to us. It was better before."


The gate abruptly shifts, and there are voices on the other side giving encouragement. And then it falls over sideways, behind the wall. In the opening, sharp stakes have been driven into the ground to slow intruders, and a lone woman stands defiantly in the narrow space between. Her leather armor is slick with mud and littered with vines, leaves, and scraps of wood, as though she came as far through the jungle as Sun Minh did, but crawling on her belly. She brandishes a profoundly rusted machete, though the cutting edge gleams in the sunlight.


"Shut your mouth, Fishmallet, and get back behind the beads! You don't know what they are!"

 

[Random Word]

Sun Minh rounds on the newcomer, all her frustration of the last few days bubbling over at this pointlessly adversarial attitude borne of ignorance, "What I am is an Imperial Magistrate," she growls as she stalks towards the object of her ire, "A daughter of the Great House Cathak," she pushes the polished steel of her breastplate up against the rusted blade, "And your only hope of survival. You are doing little to convince me you deserve it," she finishes coldly. "There is one woman in the Realm fit to speak of me so insolently, and you are not she. When she speaks, shadows tremble and demons cower. I have the honour of being the swift and untiring messenger who delivers her justice."

Spoiler

Inspire +10, Lake 7:


[dice]6708[/dice]


39+10 = 49

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

"Swift. Pah!" The younger woman spits in the dirt and regards Sun Minh with bloodshot eyes. She presses the blade of her machete against the magistrate's armor to hide a trembling hand - invisible, but the vibrations can't be disguised. And of course, she blinks first.


"You may come and go as you desire." The spitting is figurative, this time, but no less obvious. "The Sweet Rest Hilltop plantation has no hospitality left to offer, but your authority will be respected, Honorable one." With that, she lowers her weapon abruptly enough to make a few of the archons start, then backs well out of the way.


Inside the palisades, the smell of smoke is explained, though blessedly no stronger. The titular hill is some hundred yards high, and looks more than a mile across the base. It is ringed with terraces, and those littered with the charred stumps of what Sun Minh's research suggests were once mulberry trees. The lowest and widest terrace is flooded for rice, but ash has choked and killed this crop.


On the left, a large herd of cattle graze on bales of damp hay, surrounded by flat wagons piled high with dung. Fortunately, even that has no detectable odor over the smoke. The village water source seems to be a marshy area on the other side of the path up, and the wall stretches out to enclose it.


On the high ground ahead, the buildings pulled out of the earth outside are being reconstructed slowly. The elephant close at hand likely did most of the hauling. Its handlers carry a mix of machetes and spears, but no one reaches for one.

 

[Random Word]

Sun Minh pointedly ignores Ki-Lan's needling, but under her composed exterior it stings, though perhaps not for the reasons Ki-Lan might hope. How much more good might I have done with this year in a more critical jurisdiction? And how much more likely that I would have been killed? Such thoughts afford you nothing. No matter how odious, these people remain subjects of the Realm, and they require your aid. Focus. "No, hospitable is not a word I would use to describe this jungle," she replies, dryly. "We will survive. The bodies. Have they been disposed of? If not, have someone direct me to them. I would examine the wounds to see exactly what I'm up against, then I will oversee their proper disposal to ensure they do not rise and further complicate matters." She surveys the perimeter of the settlement, one hand over her brow to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, "Do the creatures seem to approach or withdraw from any direction in particular? Have they left any tracks or material evidence? I would see that, too. I have much to do before nightfall."

 

[HeinzByTrade]

"If I may?" A tall and almost painfully thin looking man approaches from out of the circled dung wagons, a gracious smile wide beneath his comb like mustache. Thankfully he too is free of the smell of animal waste. He is followed by a small cadre of what appear to be ranch hands, although you could almost swear that a few of them are the same man as the man standing next to them. They are all dressed similarly to the man leading them, suspenders over a plain white linen shirt holding up a rather plain looking pair of black pants. The only items seeming to set their boss apart from them being his splendid reptile skinned boots, a wide brimmed black hat, a whip hanging from the back of his crossed gun belt, and oh yeah the pair of not so shiny fun handles emerging from holsters that seem to be straining to contain the guns within. "My men and I have been gathered out here for about a fortnight and have managed thus far to avoid these 'things' that seem to be giving you and your fair settlement all these troubles." He pauses to inhale deeply, refashioning the smile to his face. "My men and I have come a long way, we haven't traveled this far to NOT work I'm afraid, and I cant help but notice that you appear to need a fair amount of quality help. Now we travel for opportunity-" His tone and timbre are both friendly and authoritative "We travel to spread OUR OWN opportunity as well. While it's still light out and we are all still here in one piece, might I offer our services in fortifying and refurbishing your proud hamlet, and perhaps once we've secured you and all your fine people you'd be willing to hear more about the opportunities we have brought with us? Hmmm?" His bushy eyebrows raise with this last questioning sound, as he runs a spidery hand through sandy blonde hair before extending it towards Ki-Lan. "Heinz I'm unculturedgor, man of means and provider of alternative construction and energy source solutions for all those willing to improve their own lives."

 

[Grey]

A raucous laugh, like a squabble of crows, sounds from a catwalk atop the palisade. One bright eye, obscured by pipesmoke, peers at the new arrivals from beneath long, bushy, silvery eyebrows.


The owner is regarded from a distance, with considerable trepidation, by the guards who should be sharing the post. He appears to have acquired a wicker chair - presumably from one of the nearby homes - and leans back to puff on his stubby pipe, the bowl sculpted like a screaming demon's face.


"A magistrate," he drawls, "come to sift through offal and dung, for the glory of the Realm. Will you divine the nature of the threat from those entrails, I wonder?" He grins fiercely around the stem of the pipe. "Patience. We will all see - even the rancher."


He spits over the wall.

 

[Random Word]

Sun Minh regards Heinz I'm unculturedgor, increasingly perplexed as his pitch continues, then turns at the interjection of the man on the wall and sighs in exasperation, "Ah, I see now why Sweet Rest Hilltop has no hospitality to spare - It is not a plantation, but an asylum, and overfull at that. I must say, your laudable patience has so far done wonders for these people. I'm certain that if you sit on that wall for just a few seasons longer they'll want for nothing ever again," she replies, airily.

 

[Grey]

The smoking man adjust his eyepatch and laughs again, moustaches trembling.


"What might a humble scholar and fortune teller do for these people, o Honoured Magistrate?" He asks. "The beasts are not, to my surprise, vulnerable to cunning arguments or dire portents."


He draws on his pipe.


"Something in the lack of eyes, I think. Blinded by their teeth."

 

[Random Word]

"Ah! A fortune teller. Surely you have already divined the nature of the beast by consulting the entrails, then, and I may save myself the effort?"she replies, her lips curling into a mocking smile. Stop wasting time, she chides herself. Trading barbs with this madman avails you nothing, as he knows less than nothing. If you treat with every soothsayer on top of saving every village in An Teng, you'll see the turning of the Age before you leave this accursed jungle.


She turns her attention back to Heinz. "While I'm certain you've travelled a very great distance and your business proposition is most pressing, Mr. I'm unculturedgor," she says, in a tone which is curteous but suggests she believes anything but, "I would appreciate it if you could wait to conduct your business until I have what I need to begin my investigation. I'm certain we can all agree that business will be much improved by the continued survival of your customers."

 

[HeinzByTrade]

"Well Ma'm, we're going to have to agree to disagree, and thats fine by me." Heinz replaces the hat on his head and turning to walk from the gathering commotion. He motions to his gathered ranch hands. "We've traveled quite a long way to get where we are going and have already been held up here for quite some time NOT working, far too long if you were to ask me." He turns his head back towards Sun Minh and says almost as an aside. "But ours is the work of building things and we needn't stay where we aren't wanted or-" A slight chuckle "aren't possibly needed." He turns and restarts his walk towards his own camp, shouting behind him. "We'll just be packing up and headed, well we'll be headed someway I suppose."


[dice]6793[/dice]

 

[Grey]

The man atop the wall does not reply; merely stretches, taps his pipe out over the wall, and leaps to the ground with a remarkably light step.


He stands beside this magistrate, expression dour, not looking at her, arms folded behind his back.


"If a beast's body yet remains unburnt, I will oblige - but..."


He looks to the skies, the flight of brightly coloured birds across the sun; the whispering canopy of the trees and gaunt, frightened faces of the guards.


"I think we need not wait much more for fresh supplies."

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

Spoiler

[dice]6796[/dice] -5 Fears penalty is... 19


Ki-Lan, who until this point had seemed content to let the trouble-making foreigners bicker amongst themselves, rushes forward at the heavy implication. For two weeks, she has avoided any kind of contact with the caravan and its work crew, and for two weeks, reconstruction has dragged on through ridiculous setbacks. It seems to have been enough to overcome her obnoxious mistrust, finally.


"Peddler! Stop!" She takes a breath to collect herself, before continuing. "You are right. We have... never worked under our own direction. We have strong backs and clever hands, but even the traditions of crafting a family home, they... Sunlight Rain has only shallow roots, and we are the grandchildren of canal hobos. And never have we had to work with... with so few."


Her gaze drifts south, toward the marsh, but the stare is thousand-yard, and the water source is only a hundred distant. A breeze ruffles the debris on her armor, but her short-cropped hair doesn't stir.


"What will it cost us, for your tradesmen to rebuild Sunlight Rain? To make it safe, finally?"

 

[HeinzByTrade]

"Please Ma'm, Heinz or Mister I'm unculturedgor will do." Heinz says removing his hat once again and turning back towards the (half of a) town, arms outstretched. "I am in the business of prosperity folks. I have holdings all over this great land of ours." he states emphatically. "I come with these great herds of murfallo, who not only provide us with fine quality meat and leather, but with the clean burning dung we use to power our forges and lamplights and great big gearworking machines of all types and sizes." His hands and arms are in motion as he talks, framing swaths of land with grand sweeping motions.


"What will it cost you Ma'm? It will cost you integrating my men and their families into your own fine community so that we might all benefit each other equally. We come with our own tools and enough raw materials to start our own production facilities and begin repairs on your town and will harvest what becomes necessary. We will do our business here in town in the currency of the land and contribute to your own coffers. Of course our murfallo will require feed and thus we will have to setup irrigation and more roads to grow and transport the grain both to our store houses and to your own bakeries." A small boy, almost but not quite a teenager emerges silently from behind Heinz and leans against Heinz who wraps an arm around the boys shoulders embracing him. "This is my son Schultz, like all of my men I travel with my family. Children mean your growing town will need schools and access to doctors, both of which I am more than happy to provide to communities I partner with."


His smile reaches maximum broadness as he winks and nods at Ki-Lan. "Why I'd say it won't cost you anything but a slight bit of elbow grease."

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

"You are a blessing, mister I'm unculturedgor. I will tell the guards your men may approach. You will have to talk to Riverworn Stone, though, to organize the construction effort. He sees to civic matters, in town." Ki-Lan looks... relieved. The expression doesn't seem to come naturally to her face, but there it is. She returns to Sun Minh, looking far less on-edge than before, though she does position herself to keep from facing the one-eyed devil.


"Magistrate, you have brought people with you. They look like slaves. Are they yours?" The question manages to come out without bitterness or reproach, though Ki-Lan has already made clear that she can show barbs when she means to. Maybe she can hide them, also. "They could assist in building housing, for so many, while you are busy with your investigations. I will have one of our—"


"Snake-in-Pot??!" There it is. Recognition.

 

[HeinzByTrade]

Heinz shouts orders back towards his camp, men and women springing to action unpacking supplies and herding animals. A small group heads towards the woods carrying axes. The murfallo make a general murfallo commotion as they are cajoled and molested into place. "I thank you for the opportunity. Now lets make sure no one regrets it, hmm? If you'd direct me to Riverworn Stone I'll be sure to speak to him about prioritizing of work load as soon as I change into something more respectable. I'll have work started on the wall immediately though, wouldn't want to see anyone unprotected or unguarded if we can help it."

 

[Random Word]

Sun Minh shakes her head, perplexed. "These people," she motions to the bedraggled slaves clustered near the gate making small talk with the guards, "Are former slaves taken from a plantation near here. If they wish to work for you in exchange for a place to call home then by all means. These are my Archons. They assist in my investigations. Snake-in-Pot was understandably... reluctant to return home, but was invaluable in guiding us here, and informed me of the menace stalking your people, prompting this detour."


She turns to the assembled slaves and calls, "Any of you who wish work, speak to Mr. I'm unculturedgor, or have Ki-Lan direct you to this Riverworn Stone. Any who wish to stay here must work for it." She turns back to Ki-Lan, "This Riverworn Stone, he is your Immaculate Monk? I will speak to him later. For now, I have work to do, and clearly so do you. Thank you for your assistance."


"Soothsayer, if you know something of the area and its fauna, you may assist me if it pleases you, or continue to practice your patience from your chair. Your Low Realm is adequate and at the very least you may be able to translate for Snake-in-Pot," she says brusquely as she sets off to begin her investigation in earnest.

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

And like that, movement resumes. Heinz sets off to suit up. Sun Minh turns to find, well, anyone who will point her toward the bodies. Snake-in-Pot scrambles to make himself scarce before that turns into his job. Ki-Lan starts up the hill with raised spirits. No one keeps gazing into the all-important distance except old Mask. And he sees it first, the sudden, silent burst of panicking birds, crossing the wall from the other side of the watering hole. Validation, of course. The flight of prey from predators. Here comes trouble. Of course.

 

[Random Word]

As Sun Minh accosts a likely looking local, she turns to see if the old fortune teller is following. She is unsurprised to see him instead staring off into space, but on a whim follows his gaze and attempts to determine whether he is fixated on fantasy or something of genuine interest.

Spoiler

[dice]6839[/dice]


28+10=38

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

With the birds unnaturally quiet, Sun Minh can just make out the sound of splashing from the small pond next to the wall. And with her attention drawn, she catches sight of the very first blue-gray hand to scrabble out of the reeds and dig into the mud. Friends rarely come in through the sewer when the door is open. And the bloated, milk-eyed face that hand pulls along after doesn't seem friendly.


And then no one can miss it, because the corpse staggers to its feet and half moans, half bellows a challenge. It is joined immediately by close to two dozen of its peers, all rising from the waters


At once, they rush forward, some for the guards on the platform, some for the group by the gate, and the remainder up the hill, toward the scraps of a village still being assembled.

 

[HeinzByTrade]

"What's all this then!" Heinz shouts emerging from his groups camped wagons to see zombies charging towards his new business partners. He pulls his hat down further over his face scowling. Those of his employ have seen this look before and shout along their lines, quickly wrapping the scarves that drape their necks over their faces


There is a howling in the wind followed by what could be called the sound of a wave, a wave of sand that pours from one of Heinz's covered wagons. It whips into the air, and just about everywhere else really, this is becoming a full on sand storm in what was quickly becoming a marshy bog. The working elephant already on edge from exertion and the stress caused from suddenly emerging zombies sees this as the final straw in how much of today she is going to deal with and stampedes, roaring, directly into the horde.

 

[Shining Lotus Sage]

Well, visibility's shot to hell for a while, but the sounds of timbers creaking have been replaced by scattered splashes.