Hunt for the Sol Stone ch1 [plot](Vikram, Maude)
Oct 19, 2022 6:58:51 GMT -5
Post by saintronan on Oct 19, 2022 6:58:51 GMT -5
The silence broke with Sanjit hissing as one of her allies, a tall dark man with shaved head excepting a three inch thick line of dense hair down the middle of his head, took from his robes at his chest a flicker of something gold in hand and began muttering in a language Maude could not comprehend. As he raised his hand away from the gold and held it a short distance from the burn upon her face it began to glow. A hum burst forth from the process mirroring the pace at which his mutterings had passed. Burn and cut alike began to sweep away like liquid running down her tanned face. Very slowly. But most assuredly real. Sanjit closed her eyes with relief and exhaled to emptiness. They seemed very used to these roles.
Other kris blades were removed from dispatched soldiers and cleaned at their wielders sensing of danger passed. Though the weapons did not find their sheaths just quite yet. Some were wounded. Mostly superficially. Maude took note of their number and positioning as he moved to join Vikram, spotting Ferrow busy at work. Everything he had been compiling for the past 6 weeks looked rummaged through and cast about the space. Sketches and notes. No doubt ciphered by the author himself to defend against thieves. A defense mechanism that more than likely left him alive to this very moment. He finally looked to his saviors.
The sight the scholar took in must have worried him fierce. The tension didn't leave his shoulders as he eyed the woman being healed against a bloodied crate and her allies. Nor the visage of the robed swordsman drenched in the viscera of monstrous men, his captors. Only upon seeing Maude did he finally stop fussing about his pages to fall to his knees. Ferrow covered his eyes with the butt of his palms as a grimace took his face. A sob racked the man's frame as tears slipped past the pressed hands over his face. The scout took position in front of the tent with arrow and bow at hand. He turned to those of the Golden Path.
"Awful sort," he motioned to the residual golden sparks drifting into the night from where the leader of this band had once stood.
Sanjit frowned. "Apparently not awful enough for you to save the faithful from her wrath." She spit some blood down onto the sands between them as Vikram finally returned from his fugue. She must have come across the remains of the ambush earlier. Or perhaps they watched the same as Maude had. Incapable of doing what they were giving their lives for. He huffed.
"No."
A handful of curses rolled off the tongues of her lackeys again in the strange language. She placed a hand over the healing man's and pushed it from her face, motioning to the others. The wound upon her face was now pink with fresh but healthy growth and the outside half of her eyebrow was naked.
Most warriors wouldn't choose a dagger for a battle. Perhaps it was to counter the soldiers pilfered armor. Or, more likely, they weren't warriors at all. Cloak and dagger weren't very fitting words for most Zeinav. For this lot is was most fitting. Outside of Sanjit and the healer, the three assassins wore loose fitting robes and legwraps beneath their cloaks with cloth across their face and shoulders. Each of different color but matching triangles of gold which Maude now saw within the healer's grip. After he had finished healing one his hand would be empty where upon he would take another from the next's cloak and begin again.
Ferrow in this time had recovered from his emotional bout. He stood, wiped his face with a bit of terrycloth pulled from within his coat, and breathed deeply before speaking.
"It is good to see you, scout. I have been without a means of contact for quite a moment," he began to clean a pair of spectacles from the table with the same cloth. "My circumstance would not permit me recourse. The weighty task of excavation, you see. And my messengers have been rebuffed."
Maude nodded, not breaking eye contact with Sanjit all the while.
"They were killed. Bloody brutes," Ferrow placed the eyeglasses upon the bridge of his nose where they stayed without support. "Dangerous business, this. Before your arrival I was most sure that my salvation had tasted the very same flame as my messengers. Awful sort, for certain. Pray that our dealings with that rabble are behind and not ahead. I would prefer that my future slumbers not be visited by such obscenities. Nor our future ventures. You are a sight for sore eyes, here. Dependable for that much, thank goodness. I've to get my things in order if we're to carry on."
With that, the bald man began to pack his bags. All as though this were simple sense, surrounded by corpses and fire with potential enemies still within earshot.
The woman blinked finally. Maude followed suit.
"I would gladly offer a trade for some of your treatment, maddawi." Vikram held the bolt within his shoulder to stifle the bleeding that had gone unnoticed in his stupor.
The dark man offered a small smile, "You need trade nothing, Seeker, for you walk the path already."
Sanjit stood firm then. The men taking up place behind her. Her garb was relatively unharmed by whatever force had seared he face but the once intact headwrap had been frayed to tatters. Kris knife still in hand and coated in the blood of their lost foe began to glow at the inset gems on the crossguard. The blood soaked into the clear silvery metal of the blade itself, disappearing entirely. She looked to it once the process had ended and the hint of a smirk quirked her lip.
"They will not escape again." Sanjit looked to Vikram and his tender. "Never could I have imagined to see a sukhbir slay a man. Let alone an entire handful. I expected the threat enough to keep you away." She then looked to the two foreigners with a hard stare. "To see the sukain is to invite death." The blade flashed at her side.
Ferrow looked to the ground quickly, having finished packing his belongings. Maude did not blink. He knew these sorts of games. There was no room for submission when dealing with her sort. She had said that their business was hers and if he interfered he would pay with his life. Perhaps Vikram would be an exception but her words bound her. They were the same in that way. Never faltering. For the moment that you did was the end of it all. The tight rope of servitude.
Sanjit tsked and sheatherd her blade. Maybe not so alike after all.
"Tell to me that which you save for your masters ears, dog."
"Woof."
Confusion struck first, and then an anger took her brow and she frowned deeply. She began to draw her blade again when Ferrow jumped forward.
"D-d-deep within the ruined temples below is a collection of h-" He swallowed thickly. "A series of cartouches which depict a great burial. Mountainous beings clearing away mountainous quantities of earth and stone. There lies something of the beginning and end. Of what is hard to tell. The wording is harsh. On one end it appears the sun and on the other lies a grand divine timeless void. Where, I cannot say. Does it refer to Solaria? Some long forgotten god of earthen fire? I cannot say. You may see it all for yourselves down below. If you know the language then the truth shall follow. I'm left wondering if there are more locations like this beyond the borders of this land. And what further would it imply if so."
He wiped his brow and hunched to appear more meek. "There are many facets to the research which I assure you are far too mundane to be of any bother to anyone outside of the scholarly trade that is ancient history. Now, I've many a letter to write and bank notes to trade for the reconciliation with the families of my previous assistants. Is this information to sate your desires, madam?"
The assassin relaxed and nodded. "This is where we part. Stay the path, Sukhbir. Scholar? Stay off of this trail you chase. This danger was but the beginning. And, sayad," She leveled a glare at Maude. "be a good boy. I shall introduce you to the sweltering one upon our next crossing." The healer joined her side as they all tightened their cloaks and proceeded to enter the depths of the excavation. "Be sure that we do not cross again."
A paper was slid into Maude's palm by the bald man behind him once they had gone. He motioned for Vikram to follow closely as they headed for their return path. As the distance between them and the Golden Path increased, he finally opened the note. On it, in Ferrow's scratchy handwriting scrawled out a translation beneath some indecipherable script.
'Buried deep beneath the sands of time lies the birthplace of a god - on a northern mesa sits a temple - carved out of stone and placed where giants move the earth - for those who seek the heart of the sun - a stone beckons - but only the brave of spirit can truly withstand the might of divinity...'