Ishi tries to process all that's happened, from his initial hope that these elves would be able to help him learn his heritage to fighting city officials in the streets and monsters in the sewers to swearing oaths to an artifact out of legend. It's all overwhelming. He broods about it all during the long climb back up the stairs to the Abbey.
The orcs that raised him had a rich and storied culture developed over centuries of scraping a living out of the harsh Nubetanya mountains. All his life, Ishi was convinced that these rituals and beliefs were not his, that he was always apart, set aside as different and not really belonging. But as he struggles with the emotional turmoil, Ishi finds himself returning to the familiar practices he knows. The traditions of his youth are a comfort.
He returns to the Sacristy and begins the cleansing ritual of Synov Altagh, the ceremony of Resolute Grief. He kneels in front of the font basin and begins his meditation with a low chant that rises to a howl of pain and rage. Then he removes his jerkin and arm wraps to bathe his arms: first his heart arm and then his sword arm. He continues by dunking his head into the water and opening his eyes. This part of the ritual involves holding one's breath until one begins to see stars or black spots in the water. Viewing the depths of the font with darkvision is interesting; the contours of the basin are clearly going much further down than is necessary for a simple basin, and at the bottom is a crack. This suggests that the font is fed by a spring or underground river; Ishi is briefly thankful that it does not connect with the sewer. But the crack begins to fade and black spots dance in his vision around it, calling his attention to it. When he finally emerges from the water with a gasp, he is focused on what the crack signifies.
As he breathes deeply and the black spots fade from his vision, Ishi reflects that the crack represents a boundary, but also a transition: a passage through from one place to another. So he begins the ritual of Hanov Rushata, the ceremony of Change. This ceremony is usually performed to recognize when an orcling becomes an adult, when orcs commit to a mate, or when an orc's mate dies: it involves saying goodbye to that which has come before, and making a resolution to face what will come with no regrets. Ishi feels peace come over him for the first time in days; in performing these rituals, he comes to a place of acceptance of his orc heritage that he never had before now. It IS his heritage, he realizes now. He doesn't need to look elsewhere for his identity, to somehow become more an elf. He is an elf, but his culture is that of the mountain orcs.
After the rituals are complete, Ishi gathers up the treasure in the Sacristy and carries it out to the others who are resting in the Grand Room (and who were naturally a little curious as to what all the chanting and howling meant).
He carries a metal strongbox that clearly weighs a great deal, which he clanks down on the statue pedestal with an obvious jingling of coins. "We nearly missed the spoils of our efforts. The thieves stole from the people of Grayhaven." He sits down next to the container and throws open the strongbox, revealing thousands of coins. "I would wish to return the money to those who were wronged, but we do not know to whom this money belonged originally." He trails his fingers in the mound of coins and stirs them idly. "Among my people, it is the custom with recovered booty that such treasure is returned to the people by generous gifts and liberal spending." Pulling out handfuls of coins, he divides the money inside into five separate piles. He hesitates for a moment, then gestures Faith over. "You have sworn the oath, so you are bound to the group as much as any other." He gives her a stack first, then each of the others. Each of the five PCs - Adran, Elysia, Eozindra, Faith, and Morik - gains 500 argents.
Then the barbarian closes the box and stands. He starts to pace, taking a deep breath, and then begins to speak more words than you've ever heard from him before now. "My friends - for in the brief time we have traveled together, I have come to consider each of you my friend - I have been lost for a long time, ever since the last of my tribe was killed. I have been searching for meaning, and for a time I thought that meaning was to discover what it means to be an elf. But now I have come to understand that an elf is what I am, but the main thing that identifies me is that I am the last member of my tribe. A tribe of orcs, yes, but they were the ones who found me and raised me, and I am through trying to run from that heritage. I have decided that my mission is to be the historian of our tribe, to document our lore and our stories. So when we return to the surface, I will part ways with each of you."
He smiles wistfully. "This was not an easy decision, but I feel its truth in my heart." He picks up one of the flipped-over tables and sets it upright again. Then Ishi takes off his pack, sets it down on the table, and opens it.
"It is the tradition among my people," Ishi explains, "To give gifts to those who remain behind at a leave-taking."
Pulling an item from his pack, he crosses to Adran. "I am poor at expressing how I feel, but know that I am grateful to the guidance that you and sister have provided me. I do not understand half of what you can do with your devices, uncle, yet I know how much you have done to take care of all of us." He hands Adran a golden brooch with blue sapphires in the shape of a star (worth 75 GP); Ishi demonstrates how there is a spring-loaded catch that causes the front of the brooch to iris open, revealing a small space within that could be used to carry something tiny. "This reminded me of my aunty, and I would like you to have it. May you find contentment and, someday, joy."
Ishi approaches Morik, and bows to him. "Wise one, you have demonstrated a stalwart dedication to caring for and defending us. I would have died at the...hands...of that water creature if you had not stayed in the pool to save me. I am very grateful for all that you do, and your ability to change into a bear amazes me." Ishi hands Morik a small jeweled figurine fashioned in the shape of a lizard, worth 75 GP. "I would have wanted to give you a bear, but I do not have such a thing. So instead accept this, in honor of your companion Jeffery."
Ishi clasps Elysia's hands in his own. "You are so beautiful and deadly, you remind me of a young orc maiden, whom I greatly admired..." He catches himself and blushes. "Not to say that you remind me of an orc, lady, only that you share many of the qualities that my people value most highly. Treasure the bonds that you have here with your friends and family, and may your blades be ever sharp." As he draws his hands away, Elysia is left holding a fine-crafted, ornamental silver dagger worth 75 GP.
Ishi turns to Faith. "I have only just met you, and yet I feel that you are valiant and trustworthy and true. May your defense of the orb and my friends be strong and dauntless." He looks at her helplessly for a moment. "I wish I knew better what to give you that would have meaning. As it is, I have found something that I think matches well your lovely coloring. Please accept this with my blessing." He holds up a necklace of onyx and carnelian (worth 75 GP), and will slip it over her head if she is amenable (otherwise he solemnly hands it to her).
Finally, he turns to Eozindra tentatively. "My lady, you have been an inspiration for all of us, keeping our spirits high and entertaining us with stories of valor, love, and humor. More than this, you have inspired me. Because of your example, I realize now that I have stories to tell: stories of our wise orc, Snikrant, who was as wise as he was fat. Stories of our Chief Mother, Zenrappi, who was kind to every child and implacable to every foe. Stories of my aunty Yanaghoth, who prepared the best mountain goat stew and had to fight off suitors every day of the week. Stories of all these who are gone, and many more. All members of my tribe are gone. I am the only one who remains...but their stories live on in me. It is my task to carry these stories and to share them with the world, and you have shown me how. Thank you, my lady, and may you never run out of stories." He proffers a golden flute (worth 75 GP), holding it out with both hands reverently.
Ishi turns and addresses the whole group. "Thank you, everyone. If you are willing, I will also share your stories in my travels. But if not, know that I will treasure the memories of my time with each of you in my heart for all time."
