Chapter 7: Wherever You May Roam

Such staggering loss, all for what? Power, revenge, some sense of superiority? Why will people never learn.

He looks at the Hara people.

I am sorry for your loss.

Thank you Coreene, that was an awesome job.

On a slightly different note. I have found a fighter to accompany Verrian and I on our scouting mission, but we could use a cleric or a healer...anyone have any suggestions?

Ember blushes, hoping her question wasn't skipped because it was stupid.

I know a healer. He came in and talked with everyone this morning. I don't know what he did, but even our burn victim looks healthier. He complimented your salves, Coreene. She looks to the ground for a second, realizing she's speaking out of turn. But...... He's a human named Minsarionden. He's really kind. And....he's shy, and scared, and kind of a mess, but I didn't think the one guy would be able to travel until he talked to him. And, I think it might be good for Mince to get out and about and away from -

all of this.

Verrian listens to Ember's description of the cleric judiciously. When the girl is finished, she says gently, but firmly, "It sounds to me that Mince is a good fit for staying with the main group and helping Coreene to get the injured people ready for transport, and then caring for them when the whole group travels to Viamard."

Looking at the resistance members, she says, "Do you know of anyone who might be a good fit for our little scouting expedition?"

"That sounds like a good job for me, but I wouldn't want Ember to be left alone on her scouting of the city. Would Coreene, who knows the city as will as I, be available to help her?"

Raising her eyebrows, Verrian says, "I'd be glad to have you along, if we're certain the main group can manage without you."

She looks at Wil for his input.

I can collect things myself! Ember blurts in a voice that can't possibly be hers. It sounds like her, but it's commanding, and, well, maybe not more mature, but older somehow. Light flashes in the black eye, but she shrinks back into her seat as suddenly as she popped out. But, Coreene would probably be a really good pick to come with me, considering how well the sick people are doing, all things considered, and I've listened to her before! Last night! In the infirmary. I paid attention really well. And between my messages and her sharing we could totally be safe. And Uelten's right, of course. She knows Hara really well.

Maybe if she were a Naucan she'd turn....purple? Green? She's kinda white right now.

Eanala has been listening with a hard cast to her features, an undercurrent of suppressed anger that's been present since leaving the city. At the mention of returning to Hara, and the need for a local expert, she clears her throat. "If you're thinking about poking around at the university, I have two things to mention. One, batshit crazy doesn't begin to cover how insane that idea is."

Her lips twist in a cold smirk. "Two, I'm going with you. I practically grew up on the grounds."

We would be lucky to have you Uelten. I think that fills out our little group. And as my grandmother always said,
The sooner started, the sooner finished.

To Ember, he says, "With your permission of course, m'lady? I did promise you my protection and company."

She blushes, maybe because she's embarrassed still? I think that would be a good use of our abilities. Besides. There are a lot of us here who can take notes for you. You should be with the smaller group if you're going to get the songs right.

Her lips twitch almost imperceptibly.

Swan gives Ember his bestest winning smile and a nod.

Elora perks up at this whitestone building and a mysterious crater in need of spelunking. "I could come along too, for anything that needs examining. If that's too many people I understand."

Ember is glad to see that even though she was afraid earlier, Elora wants to come along. Ember, Eanala, and Elora! We’ll confuse everyone we meet! And this’ll be my second time ever in a college. Sort of. she chuckles, and a thought occurs to her. Not a pleasant one, but one that needs to be said. Speaking of colleges, should we contact Athisa?

At the mention of Athisa, Verrian's jaw clenches. Anyone looking at her might think they saw her facial markings turn a reddish color, but the impression would pass so quickly, they wouldn't be sure they hadn't imagined it.

Her facial expression calls to mind the image of storm clouds, but she pulls out a whitestone disk and hands it to Ember. Her voice is even enough when she says, "Go ahead and call her."

Ember smiles encouragingly at Verrian (or maybe she does it out of fear) and calls Athisa.

Hello? Athisa?
You secretive, conniving.....
It’s the away team. We’re outside of Hara with some of their residents.
Doing your dirty work while you sit comfortably behind your walls like cowards.
We haven’t updated you in a while...
Because we’re dealing with a humanitarian crisis.
.....and we were hoping we could fill you in.
On things you probably already know.

She speaks fluidly, but her face seems stressed to stay casual.

No reply comes from the whitestone disc.

You all wait for a moment, a moment that stretches into a few seconds. The silence is beginning to grow uncomfortable.

If something happened to her...
She deserves it.
Shut up!

A couple beads of sweat form on Ember’s brow and she cheerfully calls out again.

Oh, Athisa? A lot has happened that the college would want to know....

"Well. Isn't this fascinating? A talking whitestone disc."

Just as you start to think no response is forthcoming, a voice that emanates from the disc. It slides smoothly through the air, a contralto female voice that is most certainly not Athisa Veras. It carries a playful lilt to it, a musical cadence that calls to mind a performer. As much as you may worry about just who this is, you can't help but be just a little bit charmed, though your mind might recoil from such a thought.

"To whom might I be speaking, dearest?"

There's a faint click, as though the holder has set the disc down on a hard surface.

Verrian's sullen expression turns to something more urgent and cold. Surging to her feet, she preempts anything Ember might be about to say.

"If you were the rightful owner of this disk, you would know to whom you are speaking. So why don't you tell us who you are and how you came by possession of the disk?"

A low, delighted laugh sounds.

"What is rightful ownership, really? Maybe this so-called rightful owner dropped it in the street, and I just happened to pick it up. I looked around, asked everyone I could find if they were the rightful owner. And sadly," the woman says, regret deeply coloring her tone, "no one stepped forth. Thus, I am forced to hold onto this trinket, and be accused of thievery by people I cannot even see! What has this blighted world come to, I ask you?"