| Logs |
2009 February 22
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Bough Logs |
Second Movement, Fifth Verse
It isn't long after that Jareth meets the group at Campbell's home, having been directed there by Ataraxos who goes with Jareth to the apartment. Campbell welcomes them, offering them water as they arrive.
Norris is relieved to see Jareth. "Had a bit o' dustup after yew left." he informs his friend dryly. He's calmed down since the event, but has made sure to give Mikal plenty of attention to sooth her as well in the aftermath of her unexpected firebranding.
Mikal is curled up against Raphael and Norris on the nearby heap of pillows and small rugs, looking very small and (deliberately) half-hidden. She smiles sleepily at Jareth as he enters, waving her fingers at him. "H-hi, Ja- Cat!" She flushes at Norris' comment, ducking her head so her face is hidden against Norris's sleeve.
Jareth blinks, instantly alert, "Is everyone OK?" His eyes flick to Mikal on the question, since it's fairly obvious that Norris is doing well.
Mikal squeaks nervously, "Y-y-yes! I, I, I d-d-didn't mean to!"
Campbell nods, "Aye, folks seem tae be jus' fine. I jus' thought 'twould be better tae keep them off th' street. I'm nae thinkin' the Mordredites are a good looser lot.
Norris does not roll his eyes...but there is still that inflection in his voice. He is glad that he did not voice any of his misgivings back when it was all happening. "Fer th' tenth time, Rabbit...saright. Y' did good. Better'n I coulda ever hoped.
Jareth smirks and chuckles, "I see." He looks a little abashed, "I'm sorry I wasn't there, but I got some interesting information from our friend from the hostel."
Mikal nods nervously to Norris, leaning away at the exasperation in his voice.
Jareth says, "Plus, i'm sort of a liability in a fight, mos tof the time."
Norris's brow knits...Mikal can be so sensitive. "Wasn't a fight." he assures Jareth. "Well...wasn't a fight with fists r' swords. Mikal ambushed a Mordred fella what wasn't expectin' t have thinkin, questionin' people in th' crowd. Man's jaw hit the ground when her simple queries made the crowd turn 'gainst him. Y' shoulda seen her."
Mikal blushes again, hugging Raphael tightly about the neck -- but carefully keeps her mouth shut this time.
Jareth beams down at Mikal and leans down to kiss her cheek, "That's our Rabbit!"
Mikal blinks startledly at Jareth, stuttering, "I -- I am?!" She amends hastily, "Uh, uh, I m-m-mean... um..." she blinks again, then smiles shyly up at Jareth, "Oh. Um... all right!"
Jareth laughs and nods, "Of course you are." He finally turns and offers his hand to their host, "I'm Cat."
Norris scratches his chin. "On-lee misgivin' bout that whole thing is it'd ha been nice t' hear their whole story. Still, caint argue with results. Rabbit spoked their wheel good, an we's gonna be right quick outta here, so we dun haveta worry about the Mordred folk getting they's act t'gether and lookin fer a rematch."
The rest of the day passes quickly, as the light fades and goes on towards Dawn. Most of the evening is spent in quiet conversation while Ataraxos sleeps, and the Dawn comes with the hustle and bustle of Jericho coming through the window not long after the wash of awen sweeps across the Dreamtime. The group begins to prepare for their departure at the hostel, grooming and saddling their mounts.
Jareth is quiet as he prepares for departure.
Mikal is humming happily as she helps groom and saddle horses for her companions. Iron Antlers is already ready, desultorily snitching the occasional mouthful of hay as he waits for everyone else. Raphael is off somewhere, sniffing around and also waiting.
Norris does tend to his mount, but most of his attentino is focused on the surrounding area, watching people come and go. Campbell was friendly and kind, but he'll feel better once they're away from this place, and in more sure surroundings.
There is a bit of a commotion in the street outside the stables, then almost as quickly, a voice that the group -- except for Jareth -- would recognize as that of the Mordredite's says, "That was quite a performance yesterday. Bold, as well."
Norris's hope falls into his boots. And we were so close...
Mikal straightens up in shock, her eyes wide -- then hastily ducks around the horse she's grooming! She peeks cautiously out from behind the placid gelding, looking to see if it's really the young man or not.
It really is the young man, looking rather mild for one who has been publically humiliated. Behind him, several steps away, is the Mordredite woman. The young man says, "Oh, come now, no need to hide from me, m'Lady. It's highly unlikely I'd make it out of Jericho alive if I tried anything."
Jareth looks a little puzzled, looking back and forth between the new arrivals and his companions.
Norris hesitates a moment, and then moves out into the open...it's not like he can step behind a thick layer of air and dissapear like Mikal, so instead, he decide to let the soldier see him, moving casual to position himself between the young man and Mikal. "Then whatcher business here, hmm?" he queries, neutral. But...big and imposing. Seeing as he can't not be big and imposing, he may as well make it work in his favor.
Mikal starts fading slowly back out of sight -- all her instincts are telling her the young man is not to be trusted! She whispers nervously, [Raphael, can you sidle up silently somewhere behind these folks? Don't do anything and stay out of sight unless they get nasty, please?] There's a quiet mental snort of agreement.
The young man looks a little intimidated by Norris standing there, but manages to proceed apace. "My business is obvious, isn't it? I came here to recruit like-minded people for Mordred's alliance, and was stymied by... by a girl who is hiding behind a stag. Now, that being said, I could ask you what your business is here in Jericho...."
Mikal peeks out from behind the horse in some surprise -- can't the young man tell the difference between a horse and a stag? And... what's wrong with her hiding? And for that matter... why's he bothering her packmate anyway?!
Norris folds his arms. "You coul' ask." He lets the silence stretch out, at first, not volunteering any further. And right when the young man opens his mouth again, he immediately interrupts. "T'any rate, doan matter much. Our bizness is done, and we's off again." He eyeballs the young man, and the quiet woman behind him. "Seems t' me yew coul be makin better use o' yer time than pesterin a few folk what aint impressed by th' underwhelming performance yew gave yestiday."
Jareth does his level best to be unobtrusive, keeping his mouth shut for once.
Mikal hastily finishes the saddling and packing of horses, then starts untying them and gathering up the reins to go. If Norris can stall the nasty humans long enough, maybe they can slip safely away?
The man folds his arms, smiling a little. "Oh, I know you weren't impressed. You made it quite clear, in fact." He shrugs a bit. "But, I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything else. Try to have a safe trip back." He turns and starts to walk away.
Mikal blinks, pausing... then leans to peer curiously out from behind Norris. Her voice is hesitant, "W-why shouldn't you have expected a-anything else?"
Norris's brow creases...he's not the sharpest tack in the shed, but even to him, that seems like it could be a threat. But right when he's about to speak up, Mikal does, and he quiets, not wanting to step on his friend's words.
The man stops, half-looking over his shoulder with a smirk. "Oh, so she can speak, after all. But I'll leave that for you to think about." Waving over his shoulder, he moves off.
Mikal studies the man for a moment, a puzzled look on her face... then murmurs, "Ah. Insecurity issues." She turns away incuriously, to say cheerfully to the others, "So, are we ready to go?"
Norris nods a little. "Dunno bout insecurity. Mebbe. Mebbe he jus' wants th' last word. But ah think that a quick d'parture s' a right good idee."
Mikal shrugs and smiles, "Boys that have that 'neener neener I know something yoooou don't know!' are a waste of time. Let's go!" She swings easily up onto the stag's back, slapping his neck companionably, "Hi, handsome! Let's leave, shall we?" The big fey stag hrrmphs relaxedly, still chewing a mouthful of hay as he turns and starts striding easily out of town.
Jareth mounts up, still quiet and thinking about the strange encounter. And wondering if he was as unobtrusive as he wanted to be.
Norris grunts and climbs up onto his mount, tugging at the reins. "S'not a waste o' time if th' thing he knows is we's gonna have an 'accident' once we's outta town. Like wunna Jareth's pranks, onlee worse." he replies once he's pulled up alongside Mikal.
Mikal smiles unruffledly at Norris and Jareth, unslinging her bow, "All right. You stick to the trail, and Raph and I will scout." She nudges Iron Antlers' sides, and the big stag leans into an almost rockinghorse sort of canter, heading off the trail.
Jareth smiles tightly, "My pranks were never meant to hurt anyone, you know."
Norris waves a hand. "Wuz jus' using it as an example, hey?" he reassures. "M' point is...we made 'im look foolish. Doesn't surprise me none iff'n he's lookin fer payback. After all, he's part o an army, an all. But, mebbe a spade is jus a spade. Mebbe he just wanted t' get some o' his own back afore we left, just wantin t' make us scared."
Midway through the trip back, when the group is camping for the night to allow Ataraxos and the mounts some rest, and to simply take a break from the travelling, Mikal notices Raphael is standing a bit away from the campfire, looking back the way they came attentively. The terrain is moderately flat, with a few rolling hills and slightly higher hills ahead of them where the river valley leading to Thebes lies. THere are some arid-environment trees here, enough to give some shelter. It's towards a distant copse of such trees, atop a hillock and silhouetted against the dark blue, star-filled sky, that Raphael is peering attentively.
Mikal calls quietly with her mind, [What is it, Raphael? Are those nasty people following us?]
Raphael replies negatively -- at least, he doesn't think so. What he is sensing, though, is someone trailing them at a distance. He caught a brief glimpse of them in that hillock, and he feels uneasy.
Norris is busy, himself, focused on splitting a log with his maul to add fuel to the fire.
Mikal is calmly collecting her things together, stringing her bow. She murmurs quietly to her friends, "Raphael and I are going to go check some things out -- we should be right back. He thinks someone's trailing us, so we should all be cautious. I'll try to bring them back to the fire, all right? Back in a bit!" She smiles and steps away into the darkness.
Jareth is staring into the fire, contemplating what good he might be if they do indeed get ambushed.
Norris looks up at Mikal's commentary, mouth starting to open in an expression of concern...but his words do not leave his lips. Why should he argue? This is what Mikal is most comfortable doing, why make her more self-conscious about it by concentrating on his own fears for her safety?
Mikal whispers to the big raptor wolf, "Circle around opposite me, Raph, and when I give you the signal, make a sound or something to draw their attention. That way we should get to see what they are!"
Norris looks over at Ataraxos, though, to see if the satyr is even still awake.
Mikal slips swiftly and silently as a ghost through the night, then settles in a good spot with a clear view of the hillock's top. She nocks an arrow, makes sure her position is such that someone moving incautiously will be skylined... then whispers to Raphael mind-to-mind, [All right, Raph!]
Ataraxos is slumbering peacefully in his bedroll, he is not awake at the moment, but he could easilly be woken up, of course.
Things don't go exactly according to plan. The terrain is a touch unusual for Raphael, it seems, as he hits what appears to be some very dry sagebrush on the approach. However, it serves perfectly to keep the entire desert's attention on the raptor-wolf, while Mikal manages to avoid even disturbing any possibly tumbling pebbles as she creeps towards the copse.
It is as she is nearing the copse that she spots the person: it's ahrd to tell in the darkness, but they are mortal, and in the thicket, well out of sight of the group's encampment but nto from the angle Mikal is approaching from. The other person's attention seems entirely on the rather noticable noise that Raphael is making.
The person -- they are mortal, which is again somehow easily discernible once Mikal can see them -- appears clothed in a light, desert-traveller style from Jericho. But there is a difference: Cross-bows weren't readily noticable in Jericho, and neither did she see the radically-curved sword that the person also has. Fortunately, their back is to Mikal, and the small bedroll -- set up more so that the person can be out of sight comfortably rather than to sleep on, considering they're mortal -- they have the crossbow, and to Mikal's eye it is loaded and cocked and while not aimed, held at the ready in the general direction of Raphael. The sword -- a shamshir -- and the quiver of bolts, as well as a small satchel that any forester or specialist in travelling a high desert might have, and waterskin, are nearby but out of direct sight of the desert tracker.
Mikal aims an arrow directly at the man's back, faintly surprised internally at how easy this has become. Wasn't it just a short while ago that she couldn't even have imagined attacking a human -- because the monsters were bad enough that the humans had to work cooperatively, or die? She easily pushes that thought aside, however, when she remembers that's a packmate the man is aiming at. She calls out calmly and clearly, "Drop the crossbow and step back from it with your hands up and in sight."
Mikal whispers to Raphael, [Grab the crossbow once he puts it down, Raph, all right? And if he whirls and shoots at me -- bite him.]
The tracker gives only a bit of a start. "Damn," she says, the voice clearly female and also self-deprecatory. "All right, I'm putting it down." Mikal can see the person putting the crossbow down slowly, then standing and backing away from it. A loop of their scarf is twisted about their face, covering the lower half from their nose down.
She holds her hands up at about chest-height.
There's a faint rustle, and then the big raptor-wolf darts swiftly by in front of the woman, snapping his jaws closed on the handle of the crossbow. He's back into the darkness in a flash, making it hard to see clearly what he was. As he's doing that, Mikal takes advantage of what she hopes will be a moment of distraction on the woman's part, quickly looping her arm through the sword and quarrel harness.
Mikal says calmly, "Start heading for our camp. Please don't try anything. I would regret having you shot or bitten."
The woman is briefly surprised and distracted by Raphael darting in and out so quickly. THen she sees Mikal has taken the sword and quarrel. She shakes her head at herself, then nods to Mikal. "Right. I'm moving." She begins to walk to the encampment.
Mikal whispers mentally, [Raph, go warn the others she's coming, then come back and help me walk her in, please?]
Mikal follows silently, her arrow still nocked and ready.
A few minuts after Mikal has gone, Raphael ambles back into the encampment, looking urgent but not hurried.
In his mouth is a crossbow, and he sets it down, lookig rather pleased. He looks at the others briefly, then trots off back into the darkness.
Jareth comes to his feet, blinking as Raph appears with a crossbow and immediately starts looking for traces of blood on either raptor-wolf or weapon.
Mikal waits until Raphael's back before she calls out towards her camp, "Bringing someone in! Everyone's fine."
Norris huhs, looking at the crossbow first, and then the smug looking wolf. "A's guessing yew didn't jus' run back t Jericho, realizin that we hadn't looked int' getting a good 'placement crossbow, annat." he calls back to Mikal.
Jareth moves the crossbow under his packs, wanting to get it out of sight for some reason.
The strange mortal walks into the firelight first, hands up and open at about chest height. Mikal follows soon thereafter, a nocked arrow steadily aimed at the person. She murmurs, "Sit down by the fire, please. My packmates will want to talk to you."
The person -- celarly a desert tracker of some kind -- sits slowly beside the fire. In the light, her skin is a dusky hue, and her eyes a sparkling black.
Raphael doesn't come into the firelight -- he's going to do slow guard sweeps around the little encampment, as well as make sure there's only the scent of one person at the other small camp on top of the hillock.
Jareth settles across the fire from the woman and says, "I have the feeling you aren't just feeling itchy feet."
Mikal steps carefully around so her back is to the shadowy bulk of Iron Antlers, who is on his hooves and occasionally warily sniffing the night air. Mikal keeps the arrow aimed at the woman as she murmurs, "I have a sword and quarrels for her crossbow, but you might want to check her for more weapons, Norris, before we try talking to her?"
Norris hmms. "Uh...iffn yew say so." He approaches the quiet, sitting tracker, pulling his gloves off. "Parn' me, ma'am." he says, almost apologetically. Laying hands carefully on her person. He doesn't exactly have experience seeking hidden weapons, and the fact that he's touching a woman rather rudely doesn't make it any easier...
Strangely, the person seems to be purposely like an open book for Jareth. Almost as if she knows any deception would be delt with harshly; as if she has experience with that sort of thing. She's calm but tense, to Jareth; she doesn't seem to want to cause trouble at this point.
Norris's search comes up with a number of small vials, pockets, pouches, and a pair of light knives; the knives seem less like weapons and more like field blades, what any good tracker or forester would be carrying, though of course as well-sharpened as they are they would hurt if used as weapons.
Jareth tips his head as he looks at the woman carefully, pursing his lips slightly, "Do you care to tell us why exactly you were skulking around? I'm guessing on the skulking, since you didn't just halloo the camp."
Mikal waits until Norris has finished his search to lower her steadily aimed arrow. She seems to relax after that, neatly laying down the sword and quiver of quarrels, then tucking her bow and arrow away in her own quiver. She settles down cross-legged, murmuring to Norris, "Can I see the vials, please, Bear?" She wonders if these are poison too. She hopes not.
The woman takes in a slow breath. "I was hired to simply follow you and see where you went. Not exactly a crime... but I can see where you'd not want to be."
To Mikal's eye, the vials are not filled with poison, but basic salves, tincture, and crushed tea leaves -- the sorts of things you'd want on your person if you were in the middle of the desert and got hurt or wounded.
Mikal nods in relief, carefully stoppering the vials closed again. She sets them neatly aside, murmuring, "First aid. Should we check the pouches too?"
Mikal looks up at the woman's comment, her voice perplexed, "You were supposed to stay out of sight?"
Norris blinks as his large hand quickly fill up with items...he finally puts them to one side after Mikal is done looking at them, and then sits on a rock.
Mikal grins at Norris, picking up the pouches when Norris puts them down. She's very careful when checking them -- not only is this someone else's equipment, but if there is a poison in there, she doesn't want to get it on her. She hmms to herself... she should go get the woman's pack too, to be polite.
Jareth mms and nods slowly, "Care to tell us who hired you? And why you took the job?"
The tracker says, "They're more of the same. I was hired to follow you, not kill you or impede you. And yes, I was to stay out of sight. Not much use following you if you knew you were being followed, naam?"
She does not look like the Mordredite woman. Shes a bit taller than that one, and her skin is darker.
Jareth ahhs, "But you didn't say who your boss was."
Mikal looks in confused interest at the woman, silently mouthing, "naam?" It's a new word to her; she doesn't have any bits of memory flicking forward with information on it.
"No, I didn't," she says simply, looking levelly at Jareth. "But do you really need to ask considering what happened at Jericho?"
Jareth shrugs, smiling a warm and inviting smile, "Probably not. But I hate to make mistaken assumptions."
Jareth says, "And I'm really interested in why you'd take the job from the folks that are recruiting."
Mikal checks the pouches as well, and soon thereafter looks relieved. The woman is clearly telling the truth there, as her pouches contain things like medicinal herbs, a few coppers, and the like. The young woman very carefully and neatly packs them back up, returning them to the little pile on the ground next to Norris, then rises to her feet again. She leans to whisper to Norris, so she doesn't interrupt Jareth, "Going to get her pack. Be right back!" She grins cheerfully at him before slipping into the darkness again.
She lifts her shoulders a little. "I may not like them much," she says slowly, "but they were right about one thing: Something to do, a purpose, is important for everyone to have. And I'm one of the better desert-tracker in Jericho. Besides, the coin we agreed on was decent."
Jareth nods, "Paid before or after?"
Norris idly pokes through her belongings after Mikal dissapears. "Ifn' she was paid afore, taint here."
She adds wryly, "Or, at least, I'm one of the only trackers that monkey could afford. Paid after, upon return to Jericho to tell him where you went from here."
Norris can't help but smile at the woman's disdain. "That all? just th' money? Or were you curious too, hey?" he can't help but ask.
Jareth mmms again, stroking his chin and still smiling, "How much coin?"
She considers carefully before answering. "Thirty silvers." There's something about that amount that strikes a chord in jareth and Norris.
Meanwhile, Mikal has found the woman's bedroll. There's not much to it, considering that as a mortal she doesn't need to eat in the Dreamtime.
Jareth's brows draw together at that number and says, without really thinking why, "Unlucky number."
The words "blood money" echo through Jareth's head for a moment.
Mikal carefully checks the woman's bedroll and pack before equally carefully repacking them to return to her pack's camp. She figures best to find anything that might make the woman react strongly -- while a good distance away from the woman.
Norris's brow creases, but that's all the indication the big man gives that he's bothered by the sum. "Suppose that's a hefty sum fer just a few wandrin folk. Mebbe this here soldier fella caint afford th' world, but he's willin t' spend a good deal on people what just step on his toes."
"Well," she says, "It's no small fortune. For a few days' work, it's enough."
Norris shrugs, smiling all goofy like. "As yew say, miss." He looks at Jareth, clearly uncertain how to proceed, here. She's not a bandit. She's not looking for heat or food. If they let her go, isn't she just likely to continue her job, unless they find some way of encouraging her not to?
Jareth seems to be thinking the same way since she says, "How much would you accept not to follow us?"
Jareth appends, "Or what, if you'd prefer something other than money."
Mikal steps back into the firelight, setting down the woman's pack and bedroll. She smiles at her friends, "Back!" then nods politely to the woman before she settles back down and cautiously takes the sword in hand to examine it as well.
She hesitates. "I'd not be comfortable accepting money for that," she says slowly. "Failing at a job is one thing, but letting myself be swayed by the highest bidder after I took a job? That's... well, a quick way to get considered a poor choice, naam?"
The woman glances at Mikal, holding the sword. "Please be careful with that," she says carefully. "It was given to me by a very dear friend before... um. Before Raven took him to Hades."
Jareth nods, clucking his tongue thoughtfully, "It could be awfully easy for a desert tracker to lose someone in unfamiliar terrain."
Mikal looks up at the woman, then gives Jareth a stern look, "Cat... you know better than that! Don't you remember my Da's old saying? 'Once you're bought -- stay bought!'" She looks back over at the woman a bit startledly.
Norris shakes his head. "Y'aint failed. Less yew aint able t' tell yer employer where we went. Thing is, don't really care t' have this fella know that. An if'n we jus let yew go...welll, yew could go right back t' followin us. An then we'd capture yew again, an it would slow us up mighty awful."
Norris looks at Mikal. "We still got that stout rope, what ah kin tie her up with, mebbe?"
Jareth shakes his head, "Tying someone up can leave them vulnerable to harm, Bear."
Mikal glances up startledly, from her exceedingly careful examination of the sword, "Guys?! This -- this is a shamshir!" She hesitates, then adds confusedly, "And... and I don't know why I know that!" More pragmatically she adds, "And there's no wards or amulets on her at all!" She looks confusedly at the woman, "Don't you want to keep the edge keen, uhh..." She blinks, then adds curiously, "What's your name?"
The woman looks at Norris. "Well, I'm glad that killing me isn't one of the options. All right, I'll work with you on that because of that." She looks consideringly at Jareth, almost as if he's almost convincing her without saying anything... then she says, "All right. Tell you what. Make your case. I heard his song-and-dance in Jericho, now what's yours?"
Norris shrugs. "Ifn she's a good as she claim, she kin get out of it right quick enou'. Jus wan t' slow her up enough so she have a hard time catchin up." At Mikal's outburst, he looks puzzledly at his friend. "Ah whoozywhut?"
Jareth says, "Bear, if we tie her up and leave her, that's going to mean she's going to have no more reason to trust us than Mordred's goons."
Mikal holds up the sword in her hands so Norris can see it, although she's careful to keep cloth between her fingers and the steel of the blade, "This oddly curved sword -- it's a shamshir. That's a type of sword." She nods towards Jareth, "What he said. I couldn't do that in good conscience, sorry. I wouldn't even leave that nasty guy for the monsters."
The woman looks in surprise at Mikal. "Yes, it is," she says slowly. "An unusual type, how did you know it? And... my name is Ghaniyah.
Norris considers the woman. "Coul' kill ya. An if'n yew pulled arms on us, ahd fight yew right well enou'. But when yer all at our mercy...well, less jus' say that cold blooded killin' aint 'zactly mah line o work. Prefer t' avoid, if ah can."
Mikal carefully repeats, "Ghaniyah..." then grins at the woman, "How would you like to have a purpose?" She adds, "Aside from chasing us, that is."
Jareth takes a deep breath and leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands dangling between them, "We're working with folk who are trying to bring some balance back to things. It's a purpose as much as Mordred's, and it's got a hell of a lot more goodness to it."
Mikal nods with cheerful emphasis, "You could come with us, and we'd introduce you to some folks we're helping maybe?"
Norris blinks at Jareth's boldness. But he doesn't gainsay him. It wouldn't do well to show dissent among his friends.
Ghaniyah continues: "As for nothing on the sword... er, I keep it keen by sharpening it. It's been... well, a very long time since I would have done such a thing. Put... religius symbols on it or something like that."
Mikal looks surprised, "No amulets at all?! But... but..." She falls silent, thinking very hard -- this is a new idea for her!
Mikal looks a bit shocked, "That -- that's what the gods' war was all about, wasn't it?! That means..." Her voice sounds almost awed, "That must mean... there are no gods?! So... so the folks here are it, as far as deities?!"
Ghaniyah looks startledly and surprisedly at Jareth; through the scarf her jaw has apaprently dropped. "that's... that's pretty bold thing to admit," she says. "You... realize that someone could go back to Chuckles with that information and be paid pretty much what they ask for?" But she doesn't sound -- or, to Jareth, feel -- resolved to doing that...."
She looks to Mikal, "Hold that thought... Rabbit, was it? I don't think that name fits you; a rabbit leaves tracks, you don't." She looks back to Jareth.
Mikal blinks at the woman, still a bit dazed with the enormity of her mental conclusion... then she grins suddenly, looking delighted.
Norris looks pointedly at Jareth, her words more or less echoing his thoughts. But...but maybe the young man knows what he's doing. He has a good feel for people.
Jareth nods and says, "Aye. I know that. But I don't think you're that sort. You don't feel like that sort. You feel like you want something good to happen." he grins at the woman's comment on Mikal, "No, she doesn't." There's a hint of pride in his voice.
Mikal blushes to the roots of her hair as she ducks her head to apparently avidly study the sword -- but still looks quite pleased.
Ghaniyah looks at Jareth consideringly. "All right," she says slowly, "but if I welch on my deal with Chuckles, he's going to do everything he can to have me... to send me off to Hades. Which might not be much, but I'm given to understand that evading assassins is not healthy."
Norris was concentrating on the woman and Jareth...but his brain was processing Mikal's excitement in the background, and then he looks up all bemusedly at her. "Wait, whut?"
Norris makes an indelicate sound. "Not ifn' e's as cheap as you say, e's not. Asides, not like yew walked off wi' his money. Jus went off on a job, an never came back."
Jareth shrugs, still smiling, "Easier to do if you have comrades. Easier to want to do if you have a purpose and it's a purpose that means something. You already said you don't lean toward Mordred." He puts on a wide eyed and serious expression, "And who knows, perhaps we're dangerous." There's just a hint of an upturn to his lips as he says it.
Ghaniyah considers, then nods slowly. "All right. Say I do walk away. Where do I go? What do I do? Yours is the better deal... so what do I do?" At Jareth's assertion of possible dangerousness, she looks askance at him, but can't keep a smile from her voice, "Well, the wolf is certainly dangerous, I'll give you that... and I'm not going to second-guess the people nice enough to not kill me."
Mikal looks at Norris with some excitement, fishing a small pendant on a thong out of her shirt, "Look, Bear -- remember, Da got this from the smith for me? It's my saint's pendant, the same as every child in the village could get if they wanted to have their saint's protection over them in the forest. Da said I should always wear it because we needed every edge we had against the monsters. But -- but if there are no gods...!" She studies the pendant between her fingers for a long, thoughtful moment... then takes a deep breath and says to it, "I -- I don't believe in you!" She yanks it off over her head! She waits for a few heartbeats, slightly hunched up as if she's not sure whether she's going to be struck by lightning.
Ghaniyah is being honest, and she feels comfortable with this decision now... and a little bit hopeful.
Jareth's almost smile turns into a grin, "Come with us. We'll take you to the folks we're helping." He reaches across the fire, offering his hand, "We'll help fire up the hope you've got in your heart."
Norris is clearly listening to what Mikal is saying, although he doesn't get her sudden fear of the sky.
Ghaniyah looks a little startled at Mikal's declaration, looking at her and blinking. The pendant itself does absolutely nothing and there is no reaction from the sky; the weather remains clear and calm and balmy.
Norris looks back at Mikal. "Feel better?" he queries.
Mikal finally half opens one scrunched closed eye, then the other. She straightens, looking around in awe, "Whoa... there really are no gods left!" She's silent a moment, studying the pendant... then she looks up at the others, firmly saying, "If there's only us left, we'd better do a good job! I don't think we'll get any second choices, you know?"
Ghaniyah is looking curiously at Mikal, before glancing to Jareth, and pausing only a little bit before shaking his hand. She seems to relax some when she does so. "Thank you," she says quietly. "Thank you."
Mikal smiles at Ghaniyah, "You're welcome. Thank you for being a nice person."
Jareth squeezes the woman's hand warmly and nods, "Thank you."
Mikal curiously adds, "Why was that man so unpleasant?"
Norris looks utterly lost at Mikal. "Wait, whut? Whut do yew mean? We's not gods."
Mikal studies the little metal pendant in her hand as she waits for the woman's answer, then grins at Norris, "Bear, can you make this into something else for me? I'd like... umm... oh! Can you make something pretty to braid into Raphael's mane, so he feels handsome too?"
Ghaniyah lets out a breath. "Who, Chuckles?" she asks, removing the scarf. Underneath, her dusky skin is a touch weather-worn but she looks to be just a bit older than Mikal. "Legate Arthur Durham of Mordred's Army," she recites a touch mockingly. "It's his job to drum up support in this area for Mordred and his crusade. He takes his job very seriously."
Jareth says, "I've found that people that take themselves too seriously are focusing on the wrong thing."
Mikal adds cheerfully to Norris, "No, no, we're not gods -- but this means there are no gods to pick us up and dust us off and... and..." She pauses, thinking very hard... then slowly adds, "Bear... why aren't we gods? We don't need to eat or sleep, we don't get tired... we can die, true, but so do the gods. So... what's different about us?"
Norris tilts his head. "Well...fer one thing, doan think no one's building a shrine t' the, uh...Great Bear. An...well, we's caint kill Aqal wi' a wave of our hand."
Mikal giggles at Norris, "Would you like me to build you an altar, Great Bear?" Her eyes are dancing with mischief -- it doesn't occur to her that she's very clearly showing exactly what Jareth was just talking about: this group certainly does not take itself too seriously!
Ghaniyah answers Mikal. "We didn't make the world," she says softly. "We didn't make the rules, we didn't build the Waking, we didn't put mortals into the Waking. That's what makes us not-gods.
"Of course there is one 'god' left. At least, one left that's active. But I wouldn't bend knee to the Architect if you held a knife to my throat."
Norris says, "Ah think there's a big difference between bein special an bein a God, Rabbit. More power, fer one thing. Gods get into a fight, messes things s'much that spider-wasps show up fer a meal. We get int' a fight, ah mebbe bruise yer ribs and bloody yer nose, but no one else gets hurt, hey?"
Ghaniyah nods in agreement with Norris's observation.
Mikal nods thoughtfully to Ghaniyah and Norris, "Those are excellent points, true." She frowns consideringly, then adds, "Um... does the Architect gain anything if we, um... well, believe in him through amulets and such?"
Ghaniyah lifts her shoulders. "I don't know. Personally I hope he chokes on whatever adoration is sent his way the way one of us might choke on a chicken bone. But... to be honest, I don't know if he gains anything from being worshipped anymore. He's been so damn distant since the ends of the Godswar."
Norris clears his throat. "Doan be makin no altars, though. Fraid ah couldn' deliver wi such a big expectation, annat." he asks of Mikal.
Jareth can't help tossing in, "And he'd just end up using it as an anvil."
Norris says, "Less someone prays t' me fer a new knife."
Mikal laughs aloud in delight! -then grins and tosses her pendant to Norris, "Here, big brother -- use it to make something pretty, then, if you want."
Mikal bouncies happily in place, mentally calling to Raphael, [I think it's all right now, Raph -- she's going to join our side!]
Norris snatches the pendant from the air. "Okee. Ifn' ya want. Waste not, want not." He looks at Raph. "Yew really want sommat metal in yer fur, big fella?" he queries.
The big raptor wolf seems to appear out of the darkness behind Mikal, his heavy, fanged head resting for a moment on her head. She grins, reaching up to gently scritch his broad muzzle, "If he doesn't, we can add it to Iron Antlers' tack, all right?"
Mikal smiles at Ghaniyah, "So, where did you get your crossbow? We want good ones too."
Ghaniyah smiles a bit. "A trader came through Jericho a long time ago. He was carrying crossbows from Babylon. I coldn't afford any, but later on I went to Babylon myself. You can pretty much find anything there." She puases. "Well... almost anything."
She recovers a bit, and smiles wryly to Mikal. "Even the Truth, if you look hard enough for it."
Mikal grins in expectant cheer, sensing a story... then she blinks, "Oh. You lost your friend there?" She remembers her manners, and carefully resheathes the shamshir, then ceremoniously offers it back to Ghaniyah.
Ghaniyah inclines her head in thanks and sets the shamshir across her lap. "No... that was much earlier. But it was where I accepted that he would not be coming back from Hades. And learned more than I sometimes want to about the Waking and the Dreamtime."
Mikal says seriously, "Can you share, so we'll be wiser too?"
Norris hmms. "Wiser, but mebbe not happier."
Mikal glances at the big smith, smiling faintly, "Truth is always good, even if it isn't fun. That's what Da always said, at least."
Ghaniyah purses her lips, and nods at Norris's comment. "I learned... a lot of what I am there. Not all of it was especially comforting. And just saying it wouldn't really help." She considers, then nods. "I can tell you who can point you in the right direction, though. There's a man in Babylon, named Shah Salah ad-Din. He taught me where to find the answers I was looking for. He's as good a starting place as any. Though you might not like some of what he might have to say."
Mikal brightens, "Oh, Salah Ad-din Yusuf Ibn Ayyub -- Saladin! He's an amazing tactician!" She adds cheerfully to her packmates, "Now there's someone who'd really be good to have on our side!" She blinks startledly, "Er, wait... I, um..." she hesitates, then adds a bit lamely, "...don't... know... how I know that?" A bit frustratedly she adds, "Darnit!"
Mikal thinks a bit, then giggles, adding, "Don't fight him with only stallions!" She blushes suddenly, and hastily busies herself with utterly unnecessarily re-packing her backpack.
Norris looks at Mikal in consternation.
Norris looks at Ghaniyah. "You get used to it." he tells her.
Ghaniyah smiles faintly. "Some know him as that, yes. Some called him 'Saladin.' But please, do him the favor of not calling him that. He does not outwardly mind it, but... it hurts a little, even if he was well remembered, to be called by that name."
And Ghaniyah nods to Norris. "Oh, yes. I'm all too familiar with that."
Mikal looks up in sudden concern, "Oh, no! Why would it hurt? Did bad things happen?"
Ghaniyah is quiet for a moment "Lots of bad things happened," she says at last.
Mikal says, "Here? Or in the Waking?"
Ghaniyah takes in a deep breath. "In the Waking. Trust me, Cat. Some things about the Waking are best left unremembered."
"Or... at least forgotten once remembered.
Jareth grins, "I'm Cat. But I'll try not to ask too much."
Norris blinks. "Wait,wait...so this Salad, feller...he remembers a lot about th' Wakin? Ah mean, a lto alot, an not jus' lil flashes?"
Mikal nods slowly, her expression quiet and thoughtful. She blinks at Jareth -- then nods again, "Oh, yes -- and I'm Rabbit." She grins with shy pleasure, "The one with no tracks."
"Oh! Sorry, Cat, I meant Rabbit...." She grins at Mikal. "Right, the one with no tracks." Seriously, she looks to Norris. "He doesn't just remember a little. He's one of the few who remembers everything."
Mikal's eyes widen in astonishment. She's silent a bit before she adds softly, "I... remember reading about him. S-so... so he must've been gone for a while, no?"
Jareth blinks slowly and has to fight hard to resist the urge to push for that story.
Norris looks at Mikal, and motions her over to one side. Not entirely trusting Ghaniyah yet. "That feller...what rescued us. Maerlyn. Armaros said he wuz...lak, damaged. Ah wunder if it's becuz he was one o' the folk what remembers everythin too." he suggests in an undertone.
Ghaniyah shakes her head. "I don't know how it happened. I know only a handful of other mortals who remember the Waking. Maerlyn is one, but... he and ad-Din don't get along." She shakes her head, saying in a slightly lighter tone, "Not that I blame him, Maerlyn is such an angsty piece of work...."
Jareth's lips twitch and he utterly fails to stop the laugh.
Mikal nods slowly, considering that, then looks gravely up at Norris, "Could be. That would explain why he fell apart the way he did -- if he did stupid things that got a lot of folks..." Her jaw drops as she stares at Ghaniyah -- then she giggles delightedly! She blushes, "Er, sorry, sorry!"
Norris looks startled...but also somewhat pleased that he was able to see, before he was told, about Maerlyn.
"Anyway," Ghaniyah says with a bit of a smile, "If you didn't get along with Maerlyn, you shouldn't have too much problems with Salah ad-Din."
Mikal covers her grin, then adds, "All right! Do you have a horse, by the way?"
Ghaniyah shakes her head. "No, I've not had a need for a horse, actually. Uhm... until now."
Mikal grins, "No worries. You can ride behind me -- Iron Antlers can carry us both, and when I need to scout I'll just slide off."
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