[center][h1]Unexpected guests[/h1][/center] To stay in Kendles, it is almost a necessity to develop an attitude of caring only about yourself and yours. To [i]live[/i] in Kendles, any amount of selfishness or greed previously learned would quickly turn into uncaring apathy. Candle had known this of course, expected it and prepared for it as she went out onto the streets to preach the good word of Parrel. It still hurt nonetheless when, at best, the Kendies didn’t even deign to give her any attention. At worst, they cursed or chased her off to a different corner of the ramshackle city. And so it was with heavy feet and a heavy heart that Candle trudged back to her lonely chapel, its lone guardian leaning on the ruined entrance way with his usual mocking grin. [color=lightgray]”So what new truths has Parrel shown you today? Is it about the grace and graciousness of Kends to a holy woman what hath served them for near a year now?”[/color] And as was customary between the priestess and the mercenary, she ignored him and went straight to her corner to disrobe into garments more fitting for home. Light seemed to flicker in her peripherals, and turning her head slightly to the door, she could see a small black line in the distance, just cresting past the slums on the close horizon. At least five figures, all armed were coming this way. Dressed in only a simple robe, Candle straightened herself, mentally sighing and wishing they had come but a few moments earlier when she still had her breastplate on. Grabbing the belt that carried her sword required no extra effort on her part, at least, as she turned to face the newcomers. Liam made himself fade into the background, present and in view, but unimportant, a lazy hand resting on his pommel. [color=C49C48]”Parrel welcomes you,”[/color] she greeted, doing her best to adopt a calm and approachable pose to the approaching group. [color=C49C48]”How may I help you?”[/color] The five thugs stopped only after entering the chapel properly. A few of them had scrap metal tied around their chests and thighs, while others were in a mess of survivors rags and scavenger furs. Spiked clubs, a jank blade, and chipped axes were in their fists and unamused faces were on their visage. A few of them had scarring on their faces and wrists, showcasing their allegiance to the filth eaters. “Are you in business?” A particularly barrel chested man suddenly asked past a curly beard. [color=C49C48]”So long as there are people to help,”[/color] came an automatic reply, Candle’s eyes unconsciously taking in their armaments and builds, her mind calculating the best and most efficient moves to dispatch them with Liam while simultaneously keeping in mind their current scars and wounds and how best to treat them if the need would arise. “Then you pay taxes,” The bearded man said simply, “Do you understand.” The drone of his voice betrayed how many times he had to have given this speech. Like the apathy of the Kends, this too Candle expected. She just didn’t expect it to have taken so long. [color=C49C48]”What shall be the price.”[/color] “People, materials, food,” The man listed, “Enough to satisfy twenty fist stones in space or weight every moon cycle for materials and food, servitude and slavery is negotiable.” He spit on the floor, “I prefer food.” Candle glanced distastefully at the man’s glob on her recently cleaned floor before turning her eyes above and past the ruined roof to the moon that lay beyond. [color=C49C48]”I have but recently arrived. Pray may I have time to gather the items needed?”[/color] There was a pause as the bearded man chewed his lip, his eyes scanning the obvious ruin he was standing in, “In a half cycle I’ll be here for ten stone, at the finish, another twenty. The ten is for this month, twenty for the next -- Derick is kind, but know your limits.” He looked at the others and jerked his head as if signaling them to leave, “Don’t be late.” Candle watched the group depart. Once they had moved far outside earshot distance, Liam made himself known with a short, barking laugh. [color=lightgray]”With those taxes, you’d think the Filth Eaters expected everyone to be like the mayor of Illistair himself.”[/color] [color=C49C48]”And that is why I will not pay,”[/color] Candle stated as she produced a dirty rag and proceeded to wipe away the man’s spit. [color=lightgray]”I wouldn’t say things so lightly, or loudly.”[/color] Candle shrugged. [color=C49C48]”Part of my duties as an Instrument of Parrel is to purify the world of Filth. It would be remiss of my duties if I bowed to a group that worships the Filth itself.”[/color] [color=lightgray]”Men and women stronger than you have tried,”[/color] Liam snorted, then fell quiet. Despite their short time together, he knew Candle wasn’t one that was wont to joke. [color=lightgray]”As long as I’m not dragged into your schemes. Don’t matter to me whether you prosper or end up carved and gutted in a ditch.”[/color] [color=C49C48]”It is a good thing for me then that those Eaters have already seen you loitering around my church.”[/color] “For fuck’s sake, get a Teid be damned door, woman!” A familiar voice barked as Rat rushed into the ruins from outside and swiftly juked behind a wall, his back covering him from any would be viewers outside. His bright eyes shifted nervously around the chapel for a moment, allowing a short pause to give Liam a look of disdain. The small man was breathing heavily, his chest pumping up and down and his hand was tight around his metal shank, a dirt covered leather package under his right arm. [color=C49C48]”Hello Rat. Are you here to be dragged into my ‘schemes’ as well?”[/color] “What?” Rat spat, head dipping to look past the wall and sneaking a peek outside, “What in Ligdon’s pants are you talking about?” He jerked around, as if trying to get a different angle, “Haven’t you heard?” Liam let out a forceful laugh, slapping Rat’s shoulder like one would a friend, albeit with the intention of breaking every bone therein, the shock caused the paranoid man to jump. Instinctively he swiped his blade almost without looking, the tiny shank slipping under Liam’s belt with a sudden snap. Bereft of its support, the mercenary’s pants began to droop dangerously low, yet Liam looked unperturbed. Rather, he looked pleased, as if it was a practiced routine the two regularly performed. [color=lightgray]”Nothing you need to mind yourself you rodent. But enlighten us! What have your sewer friends whispered into your hairy ears?”[/color] Rat blinked and looked down at his blade, “Huh, I missed,” he shook his head, “And the world wails in fuckin’ anguish.” Looking back outside he picked up where he left off, “Ratcher is in town, and he has brought the Red Knife with him... someone tipped him off -- he was looking for Lauriel... and now he is looking for--” Rat stood up straight, “Fuckin’ hell, what am I doing here?” [color=lightgray]”Friendship? Food? The urgent need to tantalizingly half-spill all your secrets? Regardless, what does that have to do with us?”[/color] [color=C49C48]”It means I am going to have to inform them that Lauriel is dead. And likely stock up on more medicinal supplies.”[/color] Candle had heard stories about the Red Knife of Kendles, this Ratcher, less so. The former would be a headache for the young apothecary if even half the tales were true. “Ooh I hope to all that is nasty that Ratcher guts you first,” Rat pointed his blade at Liam, “At least then I can die closer to happiness, hells, maybe he’d let me live if I did it for him.” The mercenary grinned, his hand dropping down to his crotch, his mouth already flying to let off some unbecoming comment before remembering that he was in the presence of a priestess (one who’s blade skills he had the chance to witness firsthand) and let it drop. Instead he went back to his previous point, saying, [color=lightgray]”So then again, why should we care? It’s not like we have to tell every Dick, Van, and Dyke about one dead merchant carrying some spooky and mysterious cargo like the little mouse here keeps teasing about.”[/color] “I always fuckin’ forget I’m talking to a pup in a wolves den,” Rat squinted, “You got his sister killed.” Metal clanked and Rat spun around, two figures were approaching. One was a tall man bearing an ancient scabbard and dressed rather nicely with contrasting scraggly black hair and a dark tan. He wore a pack around one shoulder. The other was a young woman, not even in her twenties, an assortment of tools and knives covering her. The darker man squinted, trying to see into the ruins, “Hello... I’m looking for a mercenary.” “Right in here!” Rat called out before taking a few steps back and slipping into the shadows, the final glint of his eyes smiling at Liam. Jovial and blithe eyes turned into a cold hard stare, if only for a brief moment as Liam watched Rat scurry away before turning towards the new voice. [color=lightgray]”Bit of an odd place and an odd time to be looking for one, but aye, you’ve found one here,”[/color] the jestering tone returning. Candle noticed curiously how Liam had taken on a dangerous stance, an aura she had only seen when she first found him among the Filth. She straightened herself once more, scabbard in hand, and turned to face the newcomers as well. “Finally,” The man said, an ease of excitement seeping into a tired voice, sharing a brief glance at his partner. He took a step into the chapel and pointed a finger, “You worked for Lauriel, right?” [color=lightgray]”And who might be asking?”[/color] “Ratcher,” Jarren answered, letting his blade pop out of the scabbard just enough for the dusky light to bounce off the unusually white steel in a show of color, “All I want to know is where she is.” Lips turned to spin a lie, but Candle spoke before it could be completed. [color=C49C48]”She has returned to the Cycle. It was my fault, I could not save her in time.”[/color] “Cyc- cycle? What are you--” Jarren’s face turned a hue of red as her words sunk in, “You gotta be kiddin’ me!” His voice raised in frustration as he turned to looked helplessly at Kiera, eyes wide as if asking “What now!?” Keira grimaced at hearing the news, muttering “What are the fucking odds” into her hand while two fingers tapped her forehead in thought. “We find the person who was going to sell her the map?” she suggested before asking the mercenary “she didn’t happen to have a really old map on her already by any chance?” the odds of him not having looted her corpse where low, they’d done the same to the dead slaver after all. Jarren seemed to flinch at the question, his frustration still clear as day. Steadfast and resolute, Candle took a moment to appear as if she was thinking about the question before responding. [color=C49C48]”Not that I am aware of. What I took from her wagon were construction tools and other small things I could carry in order to restore this church.”[/color] "She died, when," Jarren asked with increasing urgency, "On the way here or back?" [color=C49C48]”On the journey here from Illistair.”[/color] "She didn't have it," Jarren said, his voice exasperated and turned to Kiera, "Let's just drop this off with her contact and get the hell out of-" A sharp point pricked his back and he froze. Rat had somehow left the chapel and gone around silently, his shank dangerously pressing against Jarren's back. "You have Laurien's side of the deal?" Rat asked calmly. "I do..." Jarren trailed, "Are you..." Jarren thought back to the journal, "...him?" Rat glanced over at the onlooking Candle and Liam before taking his blade away from Jarren and leaming close, his whisper just loud enough to hear. "Keeper of Castle Hope." "Then we have your package," Jarren gulped, eager to be free of this burden. “Great,” Rat nearly blinked in surprise, “Where is it.” Jarren looked at Kieran, a light in his dark eyes betraying his joy at finally being done with it all. He slinked his pack off his shoulder, causing Rat to raise his knife suspiciously. Candle frowned, finally noticing that Rat had a knife to her guests. She threw a look at Liam who only shrugged before she took a step forward, her sheathed blade held ready in front of her. [color=C49C48]”Rat, do not point a blade at those seeking honest answers in this house.”[/color] Rat didn’t seem to pay her much mind, merely whispering “Fair... fair...” His eyes stuck on Jarren’s pack as the man rummaged through it. “Hang on hang on.” Keira interjected, having recovered, finally, from the rodent named man’s sudden appearance “show us the map first. For all we know you stole the dead ladies diary and learned about this whole deal through it.” “I-” Both Rat and Jarren seemed caught off guard. Rat narrowed his eyes, “Seems a little coincidental, doesn’t it?” “Trust me, all of this is,” Jarren defended Kiera’s point, but with a tone begging for semantics rather than moral integrity. “Teid’s tits, kid,” Rat made a face, “Fine.” His eyes shifted to Liam briefly, “But here?” “They not friends of yours then?” Keira asked “Odd, seeing as they know you and Lauriel and all.” “I guess your friend was right about coincidence, but no,” He looked over at the other two, “We aren’t friends.” [color=lightgray]”Aw don’t mind him,”[/color] Liam interjected. [color=lightgray]”Me and the little rodent go way back! A few days back. Back enough to know that I wouldn’t trust him to not shank you in the deep dark of the nights if any of his precious little secrets were uncovered, willingly or no.”[/color] The mercenary winked at Ratcher. [color=C49C48]”Liam.”[/color] [color=lightgray]”I was only trying to inform the nice people that whatever they know, they can share with all of us, priestess. For their own safety and what not. Not to mention you’d like to at least show Laury’s dear brother where she rests now right, seeing as how only you ‘n me know where their buried and all? Though I’ve got to say my memory can be a bit shoddy these days. Too much sewer stench,”[/color] Liam ended, smirking at Rat. “Dear Ligdon he still thinks I’m Ratcher,” Jarren said with astonishment and Rat simply broke into a hacking laugh. He cocked his head at Liam. “Now do you understand my concern?” “I just want to be done with this,” Jarren said and held his hands up, he looked at Kiera, already prepared to give the bag to Rat, “What about you?” “You could probably get something out of this other than paying a debt to a dead man. As for me, you know why I’m here.” she suggested to Jarren, before asking the map owner “So, rat, what’s your plan for the map now that your out of heroes to go to the legwork?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rat asked almost sweetly, his hand extended. Jarren seemed to hesitate, something battling behind his eyes. “At least ask for something in return for traipsing down here with it. Courier fee or something. Also Ratcher was going to buy it not the other way round Rat. Pretty sure you ain't got no plan for what to do with this, even if you do got the map.” Keira argued. Rat went to speak but was suddenly cut off by Jarren, “Castle Hope.” Rat nodded with wide sarcastic eyes, “You are a slow lot, aren’t you?” Jarrens fingers tightened around the bag as he held it shakily, “I don’t want it.” “But you want to know,” Rat grinned, pushing his hand forward, “No one was buying or selling anything here. The Castle was going to be split between us three.” “Then give your burden to me Jarren and I’ll handle this. Sides, you really thinking you can do this on your lonesome Rat? Place is probably deep down south and I don’t know about you, but I’ve been down there before and it ain't no walk through central Illistair I’ll tell you that.” Keria said reaching her own hand out towards the conflicted man while the other rested on her hip. Jarren seemed to snap to attention, a deep frown forming on his face. He all but tossed the bag into Kiera’s hands, “Whatever, I’m done with this.” “Of course,” Rat whistled sarcastically. Jarren made a face and started to walk out of the chapel before flinching. He turned and pointed at Kiera. “For your old man’s sake, you should be done with this too.” Rat shifted his hands towards Kiera, “You’re friend isn’t exactly wrong, you know.” “You should leave it be too!” Jarren pointed at Rat. “Which is it gonna be, boy?” Rat twisted his lips into a frown. “Neither, no one, none of us, this is insanity,” Jarren’s voice cracked. The stressed man shook his head and started to wander off, possibly trying to come to terms with the stressful week he has been having, leaving Kiera alone in the bargain with Rat. “Are you waiting for a fuckin’ tip?” Rat’s frowned deepened. “The map. Obviously. Said it already.” Keira responded after receiving the precious bundle. “Wouldn’t want to squander something like this on someone who can't even use it.” “I’m not giving you the map,” Rat looked shocked. “Show is fine.” Keira responded. “I have one half of the puzzle, you the other. We work together and we both get the goods. Unless you want me to go find some other old map? Bet their more common than what I've got, at least a little.” “You’re an idiot,” Rat accused, “But I’m willing to abide by those terms.” Rat seemed to grumble as he loosed his leather bundle from around his shoulder. With a gentle tug of the string, he unrolled the leather. Instantly the old smell of vellum wafted in the open aired chapel, a yellowed map staring right at Kiera... the symbols on the map looking instantly familiar to Candle -- they were on her crown. “Now show me yours,” Rat narrowed his eyes. Keira snorted a laugh, then slowly, carefully, unwrapped the old parchment and trying to make sense of what she was looking at compared to what she remembered about the ledger. “Here” she said, flipping it over for a few moments and then turning it back in the hope that he wouldn't memorise the small relevant bit. Rat’s eyes seemed to swim at what glimpses he could get while she moved it around, a stupid grin forming on his face. Then finally, Candle spoke, her voice clear and resolute, brokering no room for negotiation nor compromise. [color=C49C48]”Rat,”[/color] she said. [color=C49C48]”I will be going with you.”[/color] Liam, who had just been gaping managed to stop the urge of leaving his mouth hanging open about the monumental treasure being so casually spoken before him. [color=lightgray]”By Teid’s tits hold on one minute, if you’re all talking about the Castle of Hope, [i]the[/i] Castle, mind you, I’m going too.”[/color] Rat stared at the two blankly for a moment. His bright eyes flickered between the two and Kiera, a thought slowly forming in his head. Finally he went to speak -- “I’m coming too!” Jarren rushed back in, his face flustered, as if he had just talked himself into jumping off a cliff. He quickly turned to Kiera, and then closed his mouth. Rat exhaled and closed his eyes, “Well...” He paused again, “Okay.” “Then let’s put lay this thing out and work out where on Pertovia we’re going!“ Keria said a touch too excitedly before turning to Candle and asking “there is a table in here right?” The priestess stared at her, feeling the brief rush of night wind blowing through the nonexistent roof and shattered windows, chilling the young woman in her simple gown. [color=C49C48]”[i]Want not for the fallible and fleeting, but need and strive for that which will give you eternal grace.[/i]”[/color] “W-What?” Jarren squinted.