Chapter 3-11 - Chaiphut
The Thal'Ahd led their captives north through the jungle. The party were constantly surrounded by a rotating guard of eight Iskathi tribesmen, but occasionally Ryoko noticed glimpses of movement in the jungle around them. Clearly there were many more following the group out of sight.
They travelled for two days. Miaug grew despondent as their captors took them further and further from Badger. Whenever the Thal'Ahd stopped, they maintained a constant watch on the part. But in spite of their suspicion, they were willing to share their provisions and even bound some minor wounds that Ramas sustained when he tripped over a root into some thorned tendril vines. In the evenings, Quiaketh, the silver Dragonborn who led their patrol, spoke amiably enough to the group, asking them about their homes, and making pleasant small talk.
After a final morning of travel, the Thal'Ahd and their captives arrived in a large clearing filled with large crimson hide tents. Quiaketh held up his hand and the group came to a stop, falling into formation with military precision. He looked at the group,
"We have arrived. Relinquish your weapons - I will not allow you to see Chiaphut armed."
Reluctantly, the party handed over their weapons. Ramas pulled his two curved daggers out of his belt, alongside his dwarven pistol. But before he could hand over the Dark Dagger, the black blade seemed to melt in his hand, breaking down into a viscous black liquid which slithered up his hand and formed into an obsidian black bracelet around his wrist. Shocked, Ramas glanced around furtively to see if any of their captors had noticed, but they all seemed oblivious. The half-elf handed over his pile of weapons, careful not to allow his expression to betray him.
Once the party had been disarmed, Quiaketh led them into a massive maroon tent pitched in the centre of the clearing. Inside they were shocked to see dozens of Thal'Ahd warriors sitting around a number of small fire pits, laughing and tearing at hunks of roasted meat with razor sharp teeth. As the party entered, the merriment stopped and all of the dragonborn eyed them suspiciously. A few hands crept surreptitiously to the hilts of weapons. Unperturbed, Quiaketh led the party through the centre of the fray to a small inner enclosure of heavy white silk.
Inside, a gaunt looking bronze dragonborn lounged on a deep leather chair, with his eyes closed,
"Chaiphut." Quiaketh said, tersely, "We found these foreigners at the southern edge of our territory. They were pursuing one of our hunting basks. They said they had kidnapped one of their pets"
Miaug visibly bristled at the use of the term pet, but Ryoko placed her hand on her shoulder to keep her calm. Chaiphut's eyes flickered open and he swivelled his head to look at the group. As his gaze fell on them, his eyes momentarily widened as an odd expression crosses his face. Clootie could have sworn it was a look of recognition. He instantly regained his composure and the expression disappeared, replaced by one of vague superiority,
"We so rarely get visitors. Even from our kin, aye Doryu?" he purred, "It makes us feel unwelcome. Tell me, why should I allow you to cross our territory?"
Ryoko responded,
"We have no quarrel with the Thal'Ahd. We merely seek to recover out friend and then travel across the Issati Peaks."
Chaiphut's eyes widened inscrutably, then the same superior expression returned to his face,
"If your pet was taken by one of our basks, then you must have been in our territory. Frankly, you're lucky we took him and didn't just cook him. He is most likely on his was to the Verani. They pay good coin for test subjects."
Chaiphut yawned theatrically, turning to Quiaketh,
"Why did you bring them here? You know the rules, we are for Thal'Ahd, not for other races or tribes. Kill them."
Chaiphut's guards raised their bone swords towards the group. Quiaketh looked furious. He seemed about to say something, when Ramas leaped forwards, batting aside one of the guardsmen's blades and appearing next to Chaiphut. The onyx bracelet around his wrist flowed down his palm, forming into a wickedly sharp looking dagger which Ramas held to the bronze dragonborn's scaly throat,
"I'd put those down if I were you" the half-elf said casually.
The guards dropped their swords. Looking through the silken fabric of the inner tent, Aetilius could see other Thal'Ahd warriors getting to their feet and lifting their weapons. Instinctively he summoned his mythal axe and Miaug manifested her Stormbow. Clootie raised her hand, muttering "Babalik" under her breath. Kulog hurtled through the wall of the tent, landing with a satisfying thud in the little gnome's hand.
The three adventurers bunched up back to back with Ryoko.
Chaiphut swallowed nervously, croaking quietly,
"If you kill me, your friends will all die."
"Maybe. But that won't help you much, will it?" Ramas retorted, "If you want to survive, I want you to answer a few questions. Do you understand?"
"Yes" Chaiphut responded reluctantly,
"Where have your men taken our fox?"
"They'll have taken it to the Verani outpost in the mountains"
"Why?"
"I don't know. The Verani just pay for different test subjects. Anything unusual we take to them, exotic animals are particularly valuable"
"What do they do with them?"
"I don't know. Honestly"
"Is it just animals you take to the Verani? Be honest"
"No. They pay higher for dragonborn or human subjects"
"So you're slave traders"
"No. Of course not" Chaiphut almost managed to look indignant
"That wasn't a question. You are. You know that's disgusting right? Why do you deal with the Verani?"
"We need powerful allies. We're looked down on by the other dragonborn. This way, at least we know they won't attack us"
"We would never attack you!" Ryoko interjected angrily, "You're our kinsmen. We may not always get agree, but we're blood"
"Ha! Typical Doryu" Chaiphut sneered, "Your tribe are worst of all, always thinking your better than us."
Clootie spoke up, "Why did you recognise us?"
"What?"
"You recognised us. When you first saw us you definitely recognised us"
Quiaketh looked taken aback by this,
"I don't know what you're talking about" Chaiphut blustered. Ramas wasn't fooled, and pressed the blade into his throat. A tiny black tendril snaked out from the blade, piercing him just below the chin and drawing a single drop of blood which trickled down the dragonborn's bony neck,
"Ok, ok! Don't hurt me, please" he squirmed, "I was only doing as she told me"
"Explain" Ramas growled,
"Ok. I sometimes do tasks for a woman, she calls herself the Jaguar. She comes to me in my dreams, sometimes as a woman, other times as a big cat. She told me you would be travelling through Quan and she explained she wanted you dead. Especially you" he said, motioning towards Ryoko,
"So I sent out extra hunting basks to try to find you."
"Why does she want me dead?" Ryoko asked
"Because you killed the avatar of our lord Iquath and ruined our plans at Neverwinter"
"Our plans?" Aetilius said, "You mean, you're Nethonris?"
"Yes. I'm a dreamer, one of the upper echelon of the Nethonris" Chaiphut sounded perversely proud, "I commune with and take orders directly from one of the Triumvirate"
Ramas looked over at Quiaketh,
"Did you know about this?" he asked accusingly,
"No" Quiaketh shook his head in resignation, "But it makes sense. This snivelling worm has made a mockery of our once noble tribe"
"I think it's time you elected a new leader" Ramas advised,
"Elected?" Quiaketh looked confused,
"You know - get everybody together and pick a new leader. How do you normally decide leadership?" Ramas asked, confused,
"Whoever kills the previous chieftan become the new chieftan. Chaiphut murdered the last chieftan, Kymora, and took control. Those who might try to overthrow him were always pre-empted and killed."
"I sense your tribe are not big fans of this guy"
"No. He is weak and cowardly. He killed Kymora by poison, a dishonourable method. But tradition is tradition."
"I think it might be time to break with tradition. We're going to go and find our missing fox. That might mean we'll burn the entire Verani empire to the ground. And if we do that, you'll have nobody to protect you when the rest of the dragonborn tribes find out you've been selling their people into slavery. I think your best bet would be to get rid of this guy and start to make amends"
"I think you might be right." Quiaketh nodded sagely. He barked something in Draconic and a dozen armed dragonborn ran into the inner tent and levelled their weapons at Chiaphut's guards.
Ramas helped Quiaketh organise a democratic election for leadership of the tribe. Quiaketh, widely respected among the Thal'Ahd, was elected as chieftan. His first acts were to exile Chiaphut from the tribe, an uncommonly lenient sentence which Clootie helped convince him would show a break from their customs in line with a new future; and to dispatch emissaries to each of the other tribes in an effort to rekindle relations. Quiaketh arranged food and rest for the party. After his initial acts of governance, he found the group sitting around a fire sharing a flask of brandy Ramas had pulled from somewhere,
"Thank you my friends. Many in the tribe have long felt sickened by what we felt was the abandonment of our honour. But the sycophants Chiaphut surrounded himself with, and his uncanny ability to know the details of any plot against him, made deposing him impossible. Until you…" he raised an eyebrow at Ramas,
"How did you manage that? I checked you were disarmed myself"
"A good thief never reveals his secrets" Ramas smiled,
"Fair enough" Quiaketh shrugged, "In thanks, I've organised a tracker to help guide you to the Verani fortress. It's the least we can do. Rest and recover for now, Khalyd will guide you in the morning."
As the party relaxed that evening, Clootie sought out a leatherworker among the Thal'Ahd. She pulled her quaggoth pelts out of her bag, the rancid sour smell of curing liquid almost overpowering the tanner, causing him to retch and heave on the ground. With his help, Clootie cleaned the last of the curing fluid out of the fur. They tested the cured hide, and satisfied that it was properly tanned, Clootie thanked the Thal'Ahd and took the pelts back to the campfire to work on. While the others slept, she worked long into the night with needle and thread.
Next: Chapter 3-12 - To the Verani
Previous: Chapter 3-10 - Follow the Fox
They travelled for two days. Miaug grew despondent as their captors took them further and further from Badger. Whenever the Thal'Ahd stopped, they maintained a constant watch on the part. But in spite of their suspicion, they were willing to share their provisions and even bound some minor wounds that Ramas sustained when he tripped over a root into some thorned tendril vines. In the evenings, Quiaketh, the silver Dragonborn who led their patrol, spoke amiably enough to the group, asking them about their homes, and making pleasant small talk.
After a final morning of travel, the Thal'Ahd and their captives arrived in a large clearing filled with large crimson hide tents. Quiaketh held up his hand and the group came to a stop, falling into formation with military precision. He looked at the group,
"We have arrived. Relinquish your weapons - I will not allow you to see Chiaphut armed."
Reluctantly, the party handed over their weapons. Ramas pulled his two curved daggers out of his belt, alongside his dwarven pistol. But before he could hand over the Dark Dagger, the black blade seemed to melt in his hand, breaking down into a viscous black liquid which slithered up his hand and formed into an obsidian black bracelet around his wrist. Shocked, Ramas glanced around furtively to see if any of their captors had noticed, but they all seemed oblivious. The half-elf handed over his pile of weapons, careful not to allow his expression to betray him.
Once the party had been disarmed, Quiaketh led them into a massive maroon tent pitched in the centre of the clearing. Inside they were shocked to see dozens of Thal'Ahd warriors sitting around a number of small fire pits, laughing and tearing at hunks of roasted meat with razor sharp teeth. As the party entered, the merriment stopped and all of the dragonborn eyed them suspiciously. A few hands crept surreptitiously to the hilts of weapons. Unperturbed, Quiaketh led the party through the centre of the fray to a small inner enclosure of heavy white silk.
Inside, a gaunt looking bronze dragonborn lounged on a deep leather chair, with his eyes closed,
"Chaiphut." Quiaketh said, tersely, "We found these foreigners at the southern edge of our territory. They were pursuing one of our hunting basks. They said they had kidnapped one of their pets"
Miaug visibly bristled at the use of the term pet, but Ryoko placed her hand on her shoulder to keep her calm. Chaiphut's eyes flickered open and he swivelled his head to look at the group. As his gaze fell on them, his eyes momentarily widened as an odd expression crosses his face. Clootie could have sworn it was a look of recognition. He instantly regained his composure and the expression disappeared, replaced by one of vague superiority,
"We so rarely get visitors. Even from our kin, aye Doryu?" he purred, "It makes us feel unwelcome. Tell me, why should I allow you to cross our territory?"
Ryoko responded,
"We have no quarrel with the Thal'Ahd. We merely seek to recover out friend and then travel across the Issati Peaks."
Chaiphut's eyes widened inscrutably, then the same superior expression returned to his face,
"If your pet was taken by one of our basks, then you must have been in our territory. Frankly, you're lucky we took him and didn't just cook him. He is most likely on his was to the Verani. They pay good coin for test subjects."
Chaiphut yawned theatrically, turning to Quiaketh,
"Why did you bring them here? You know the rules, we are for Thal'Ahd, not for other races or tribes. Kill them."
Chaiphut's guards raised their bone swords towards the group. Quiaketh looked furious. He seemed about to say something, when Ramas leaped forwards, batting aside one of the guardsmen's blades and appearing next to Chaiphut. The onyx bracelet around his wrist flowed down his palm, forming into a wickedly sharp looking dagger which Ramas held to the bronze dragonborn's scaly throat,
"I'd put those down if I were you" the half-elf said casually.
The guards dropped their swords. Looking through the silken fabric of the inner tent, Aetilius could see other Thal'Ahd warriors getting to their feet and lifting their weapons. Instinctively he summoned his mythal axe and Miaug manifested her Stormbow. Clootie raised her hand, muttering "Babalik" under her breath. Kulog hurtled through the wall of the tent, landing with a satisfying thud in the little gnome's hand.
The three adventurers bunched up back to back with Ryoko.
Chaiphut swallowed nervously, croaking quietly,
"If you kill me, your friends will all die."
"Maybe. But that won't help you much, will it?" Ramas retorted, "If you want to survive, I want you to answer a few questions. Do you understand?"
"Yes" Chaiphut responded reluctantly,
"Where have your men taken our fox?"
"They'll have taken it to the Verani outpost in the mountains"
"Why?"
"I don't know. The Verani just pay for different test subjects. Anything unusual we take to them, exotic animals are particularly valuable"
"What do they do with them?"
"I don't know. Honestly"
"Is it just animals you take to the Verani? Be honest"
"No. They pay higher for dragonborn or human subjects"
"So you're slave traders"
"No. Of course not" Chaiphut almost managed to look indignant
"That wasn't a question. You are. You know that's disgusting right? Why do you deal with the Verani?"
"We need powerful allies. We're looked down on by the other dragonborn. This way, at least we know they won't attack us"
"We would never attack you!" Ryoko interjected angrily, "You're our kinsmen. We may not always get agree, but we're blood"
"Ha! Typical Doryu" Chaiphut sneered, "Your tribe are worst of all, always thinking your better than us."
Clootie spoke up, "Why did you recognise us?"
"What?"
"You recognised us. When you first saw us you definitely recognised us"
Quiaketh looked taken aback by this,
"I don't know what you're talking about" Chaiphut blustered. Ramas wasn't fooled, and pressed the blade into his throat. A tiny black tendril snaked out from the blade, piercing him just below the chin and drawing a single drop of blood which trickled down the dragonborn's bony neck,
"Ok, ok! Don't hurt me, please" he squirmed, "I was only doing as she told me"
"Explain" Ramas growled,
"Ok. I sometimes do tasks for a woman, she calls herself the Jaguar. She comes to me in my dreams, sometimes as a woman, other times as a big cat. She told me you would be travelling through Quan and she explained she wanted you dead. Especially you" he said, motioning towards Ryoko,
"So I sent out extra hunting basks to try to find you."
"Why does she want me dead?" Ryoko asked
"Because you killed the avatar of our lord Iquath and ruined our plans at Neverwinter"
"Our plans?" Aetilius said, "You mean, you're Nethonris?"
"Yes. I'm a dreamer, one of the upper echelon of the Nethonris" Chaiphut sounded perversely proud, "I commune with and take orders directly from one of the Triumvirate"
Ramas looked over at Quiaketh,
"Did you know about this?" he asked accusingly,
"No" Quiaketh shook his head in resignation, "But it makes sense. This snivelling worm has made a mockery of our once noble tribe"
"I think it's time you elected a new leader" Ramas advised,
"Elected?" Quiaketh looked confused,
"You know - get everybody together and pick a new leader. How do you normally decide leadership?" Ramas asked, confused,
"Whoever kills the previous chieftan become the new chieftan. Chaiphut murdered the last chieftan, Kymora, and took control. Those who might try to overthrow him were always pre-empted and killed."
"I sense your tribe are not big fans of this guy"
"No. He is weak and cowardly. He killed Kymora by poison, a dishonourable method. But tradition is tradition."
"I think it might be time to break with tradition. We're going to go and find our missing fox. That might mean we'll burn the entire Verani empire to the ground. And if we do that, you'll have nobody to protect you when the rest of the dragonborn tribes find out you've been selling their people into slavery. I think your best bet would be to get rid of this guy and start to make amends"
"I think you might be right." Quiaketh nodded sagely. He barked something in Draconic and a dozen armed dragonborn ran into the inner tent and levelled their weapons at Chiaphut's guards.
Ramas helped Quiaketh organise a democratic election for leadership of the tribe. Quiaketh, widely respected among the Thal'Ahd, was elected as chieftan. His first acts were to exile Chiaphut from the tribe, an uncommonly lenient sentence which Clootie helped convince him would show a break from their customs in line with a new future; and to dispatch emissaries to each of the other tribes in an effort to rekindle relations. Quiaketh arranged food and rest for the party. After his initial acts of governance, he found the group sitting around a fire sharing a flask of brandy Ramas had pulled from somewhere,
"Thank you my friends. Many in the tribe have long felt sickened by what we felt was the abandonment of our honour. But the sycophants Chiaphut surrounded himself with, and his uncanny ability to know the details of any plot against him, made deposing him impossible. Until you…" he raised an eyebrow at Ramas,
"How did you manage that? I checked you were disarmed myself"
"A good thief never reveals his secrets" Ramas smiled,
"Fair enough" Quiaketh shrugged, "In thanks, I've organised a tracker to help guide you to the Verani fortress. It's the least we can do. Rest and recover for now, Khalyd will guide you in the morning."
As the party relaxed that evening, Clootie sought out a leatherworker among the Thal'Ahd. She pulled her quaggoth pelts out of her bag, the rancid sour smell of curing liquid almost overpowering the tanner, causing him to retch and heave on the ground. With his help, Clootie cleaned the last of the curing fluid out of the fur. They tested the cured hide, and satisfied that it was properly tanned, Clootie thanked the Thal'Ahd and took the pelts back to the campfire to work on. While the others slept, she worked long into the night with needle and thread.
Next: Chapter 3-12 - To the Verani
Previous: Chapter 3-10 - Follow the Fox
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