Game: Blades of Git'riban : Primal State

If I may be so bold as to enlighten the "choice" of part of this Rakkma to drop the heads of our great enemy over Hlondeth, it was by order of the Kith'rak Gib, honored as she is, that made Kirath drop his heads over the ghaik city, not by choice of his own. Ii'Jyka'Vaar says this in as neutral a tone as to not overstep any bounds that she could, but still help Kirath in saving his face..

"That is why I chose not to obey her orders myself, and keep the kills of the great enemy I made..." and with that she proceeds to show Lavender's head.. "In my opinion she over-exerted rank in demanding we denounce our right to kill-trophies, just for the sake of scaring the Hlondeth graith-village" and with that said she puts the head back in the bag, Ii'Jyka winks an eye at Ya'shenn when she glances a look at her when the heads come to mention...

Ii'Jyka also ignores the fact that Lahar does not acknowledge her rank or stature, as she does not want to en-flame the situation anymore then really necessary.. for the moment..

"Unless such a delegation never arrives," the psion suggests quietly. "Or arrives without its intended tribute. I suppose that many evils might befall a group of yuan-ti or their minions between Hlondeth and wherever one normally meets with graith on this world to make such arrangements. Ordinarily it would be... wrong... to allow any harm to come to genuine illithid slayers, even if they are barbarians. The yuan-ti of Hlondeth are not such, but mere collaborators with the ghaik."

Despite her words, however, Ya'shenn is more than a little dismayed. She mentally reprimands herself for not having figured this out -- never mind that her part in the Incursion had not taken her to this world, and that she had not given the order. Or the fact that Kirath had become unconscious at about the same time that the order had been given. "Firebringer, I... feel that I must apologize. Had I realized their significance, either to the relations your forces have with the graith of this world, or to your engineers, I would at least have advised Kirath of the Copper Ring against this action."

A true Hiver, Azthri'Zhan'kel pours herself a generous portion of one of the beverages. The doctor's nervousness is palpable and all present will note that she seems to be drinking more to steady her nerves than truly savour the vintage. After her third round she reaches into her satchel, placing four graith skulls and two large leather-bound books onto the table in front of her. The skulls themselves are adorned in tir'su carved deep into the surface. Azthri'Zhan'kel gestures for anyone interested to take a closer look and grins wickedly. Those who do will note very detailed descriptions that are transcribed with the clinical detachment expected of a mortician.…..as well as a short, though revealing series of tir’su carved on the foreheads of each gleaming specimen: Executed by Azthri’Zhan’kel, last of the Carnelian warband. Justice reigns.

She straightens her posture and blinks, recalling to mind what she knows of Sembia, though her presently inebriated state makes the task somewhat difficult. The Incursion had hit the graith kingdom hard, though it managed to survive the barrage of attacks remarkably well. An acute feeling of shame for drinking so heavily in the presence of others of the People works its way into her brain and she folds her arms across her chest.

“Consider these a small tribute, Firebringer. I wish they were illithid skulls, now that I know of your dire need for them. The spellbook from the graith wizard and the journal of the leader of the murderers might be of use….I could not translate their language. Speaking of rrakkma, I am......embarassed to admit I have never undergone a first rrakkma. The circumstances surrounding my early years were not.....conductive.....to the cultivation of a proper githyanki, despite my acceptance into a warband during the Incursion. Even those among us who are Git'ribani are far better than I, so I ask for your pardon if what I say or do is out of line, so to speak. ”

[OOC: It's entirely up to you if the books contain anything of value, Azure.]

Sick of politics and manipulation Ar'Dru takes Lahar at face value and is delighted at the turn of events. He drinks what would be a ridiculous amount for any with a lesser constitution favouring potent short drinks rather than long, quaffing ones.

He listens appreciatively to Lahar's tales and adds a few of his own, sharing the credit where appropriate but not hesitating to tell of his own skill, producing skulls of notable foes to emphasise his tales where appropriate, occasionally standing to demonstrate th fencing techniques he used to best his foes.

Noting the restraint on the part of Ya'shenn and Ii'Jyka'Vaar Ar'Dru turns to them in a friendly, though somewhat stern manner.
"Sisters, the liquor is plentiful and our host honorable. Drink deeply lest you cause him to think that you have no steel in you."

He nods approvingly at Azthri both as she drinks and when she produces the skulls. "You truly have Gith's blood in you little sister!" he exclaims. "A shame your were not raised with the people but no matter, you are now and you'll soon have a Ghaik for your head-bag."

Ar'Dru smiles at the young gith "Those skulls are a part of your history little sister. I thank you for the offer but would not dream of taking such a thing from you unless I had a very great need for them, nor should you part with them lightly." Ar'dru returns Azthri'Zhan'kels toast with his own glass.

While she might ordinarily be considered a 'difficult to goad' personality, apparently being admonished by a duthka'gith, in front of another duthka'gith of high status, is actually sufficient to goad the psion. Ya'shenn drinks more of the (really quite excellent) liquor than she had intended. Of course, she's much too paranoid an individual to knowingly get drunk, so this change likely means that she's drinking 'with restraint' rather than 'ridiculously little.'

"Pale has made a similar claim: that Urmlaspyr is his own destination as well. If that is the case, I find that I must wonder why he felt it so necessary to attempt to take Starmantle by surprise, and to attempt to use conscripted forces to do so." Both heavy sarcasm and bitterness are evident in the psion's voice. "I could also wish that the necromancer had actually revealed Urmlaspyr as his destination before his hand was forced. I have at least some reason to believe that his ultimate destination is... beyond Urmlaspyr... but his desire to visit the Dead Stones does appear to be sincere."

"Firebringer, this certainly would seem to leave us with a conundrum." The psion speaks with heavy irony. "Pale appears to be gathering forces for a major attack. Including forces which are not eager to be so gathered. He also seeks ships: in fact, he was quite eager to poach those of Starmantle's githyanki captains. I cannot object to his apparent goal of fighting graith at Urmlaspyr. Still, if his goal is such a desirable one, one must wonder why he is so willing to ambush and conscript his own People in pursuit of it."

In the ancient, cultured cities of the Astral -- at least in Ya'shenn's experience -- it would be rare to present such a trophy with such fanfare, for the simple reason that barbarians are seldom considered worthy foes. Of course, barbarians that are capable of extinguishing an entire warband would surely be considered a 'worthy foe,' no? Destroying the destroyers of one's own warband is no easy task, either!

"It is very good that you extinguished the destroyers of the Carnelian, sister." With mild curiosity: "Sister, might I examine the journal and spellbook for a moment? I cannot guarantee that I can read the language myself... particularly if it is one of the innumerable languages of human graith... but an understanding of linguistics is almost a prerequisite for a telepath."

[Ya'shenn doesn't have read magic, but if the spellbook contains any regular text such as an introduction, in Draconic perhaps, she might understand it.]

Ii'Jyka looks at Ya'shenn expectantly with an open palmed hand and says; "I would be interested in reading these books, if you don't mind.."

"I would be rude to refuse! What is mine is my warband's, with the exception of my surgeon's tools and a few small trinkets." Azthri'Zhan'kel nods at Kirath. She pours a glass of razorvine brandy mixed with a blend of pleasent herbs and makes a note to enquire about the recipe. After a few iips the doctor rests against the back of the chair, eyes half-closed in a pensive expression, seeming older for a brief moment. Derog smoothly extracts control from her in that moment.

"Firebringer, would it be safe to assume that this.....Master Pale could be planning to engage your forces even as we speak? Wouldn't it be to your advantage to land the first strike? Don't have superior numbers?" Derog leans forward, steepling his fingers. "Forgive me for my impaitence. I'd rather avoid a massacre if possible. Better to cripple him now."

Derog fixes a calculating look around the room before letting Azthri'zhan'kel resume control.

(Sense Motive: Did anyone catch the shift in her personality )

"I take it then brother that you have a strategy in mind regarding Mist?"

Ya'shenn is uncharacteristically silent for a while, gazing into her wineglass. As the Firebringer finishes his drink, the psion ceases drinking entirely. She is frankly intimidated by the forceful... it would be tempting to call it 'fiery...' personality of this commander of the Band of Bloodstone, though as a matter of course she tries to keep this fact far from her expression. The psion also highly doubts that she could be the only githyanki to ever feel similarly. She gives the Firebringer plenty of time to respond to Ar'dru's question, should he wish to do so.

Lahar cannot possibly have missed the provenance of the long, slender dagger she wears. Liberator only knows what he thinks of that aspect of the situation. The psion also wonders for a moment whether she, Ya'shenn, herself, might not be one of those hundred shadows, however much she might wish otherwise. There had been one piece of information in K'tch's mind that she had not shared with the others. The fact that anything she had found in K'tch's mind might be either truth or complete disinformation does not help.

"I am not certain that even she anticipated this turn of events. Certainly I did not." If she did, she is much more fearsome even than her reputation. "I can share with you what I do know of her, and much that I have heard, but what I do not have is the knowledge of her grand plan." Or do I? Curse it, was it not Mist-of-the-Mind, and not Pale, who uttered that detestable order? You would trust anything from her, under the circumstances?

To Lahar, silently: ~Ask your questions, Firebringer; I will answer as I am able.

Azthri'Zhan'kel notes the knight's condition with some concern and pours her some of the razorvine brew.

"Are you well, Githees? I have several tonics in my other satchel if you require them." She suddently fidgets and wavers a bit as if dazed. Derog's voice is edged with fury in her head.

{{Azthri, listen to me, this is....becoming precarious. Do not draw Firebringer Lahar's ire or his interest further, nor that of the psion. Be silent! We are in far greater danger than you are capable of understanding!}}

{{Pike off, I'm managing well enough without your interference!}}

{{i]Azthri'Zhan'kel of Carnelian![/i]}}

{{I said pike - the - sodding - hells - OFF.}}

{{You will listen even if I must punish you, Azthri. Do not make me resort to such things.....Mist is no mere undead, she was -and is - one of the greatest, if not the greatest, spymaster your people have produced in centuries. She will peel the layers of your thoughts with but a moment's pause and you will be helpless before her, as naked as the day you hatched.}}

Aloud, Ya'shenn is unusually laconic for once. "Understood."

To Lahar: ~Assuming success in this matter, if you could see to it that none of us are assigned to the direct command of either of them for any reason whatsoever...

[Scene change soon, then?]

Ya'shenn listens attentively to the provided information... and wonders if the Firebringer is already deciding on a task for what she had once described as their informal warband. Her own mind has been simply focused on surviving the next several spans (along with her battle-siblings) and what appears to be the inevitable confrontation with an insane, fanatical necromancer. Not to mention his 'advisor.' "You are seeking someone to rectify this issue in the north of Sembia, then?"

Ya'shenn winces at being referred to as a Git'ribani. Never mind that Tu'narath might be so much rubble floating in the Silver Void -- the former inhabitants of that magnificent city are often somewhat notorious for their civic pride, and the psion is one of these.

"Speaking for myself only, I wish to return to Git'riban as quickly as I may." Ya'shenn sends a questioning look toward the other members of their informal warband, though. "I suspect the situation there is deteriorating." The psion is also somewhat sensitive to Pale's occasional accusations of cowardice, a fact which makes her a bit less eager to simply rush through a portal back to Sigil than she might normally be. "Still, I would not wish for this part of the empire on the Prime to suffer, either. Since there are no portals to be had in Starmantle, perhaps we might provide some assistance to your own forces on our way to one or another of the portals in Sembia. Personally, I would greatly prefer that that portal not be one in Urmlaspyr, for obvious reasons." Like my continuing desire to see Pale utterly destroyed. "I am also curious about the exit point of each of these portals." Of course. Ya'shenn wouldn't want to leave Abeir-Toril only to land in the Githyanki Embassy.

~I... would like that. Firebringer, Ya'shenn's mental tone becomes even more serious than is usual for her, ~If Git'riban is not in flames by the time we return, I shall rejoice. I am increasingly of the belief that much is not as it seems when it comes to my group's recent rrakkma -- indeed, I have felt suspicion about it almost since the beginning.

Ya'shenn does not share the alcohol tolerance of a hard-drinking duthka'gith shock trooper. Either of the duthka'gith shock troopers present, actually. Accordingly the psion finds that she is beginning to feel noticeably more warm and content than usual.

That cursed wine.

A brief flash of annoyance at Ar'dru for having admonished her on her drinking habits. The psion decides quickly that she is not nearly intoxicated enough to justify using psionics for the sake of total sobriety. A span or two and I'll be fine. Still, the others may observe that Ya'shenn is beginning to seem more relaxed than is the norm for her.

"You might compare notes," she suggests.

"Westgate," Ya'shenn muses. "In what manner are these portals difficult to use? Difficult portal keys, or hordes of easily angered graith? Or both?"

"As to the ships... am I to assume you refer only to those of your own fleet, or to all of the willing ships you can gather in Starmantle?" Ya'shenn believes that the answer is probably the latter, but she wishes to be sure on that point. Lahar also does not seem nearly as inclined as Pale to conscript the People.

While the effect is not pronounced, the psion's voice seems a touch more enthusiastic and animated than usual. The alcohol buzz, undoubtedly.

"What, indefinitely?" Ya'shenn asks Kirath with genuine curiosity. It is worth recalling that the psion is not particularly knowledgeable in the Arcane, and thus would know little of how Kirath's powers might differ from those of other mages.

"Still, there are several among our number who are not fliers. Even if there should happen to be a large number of wyverns or other flying creatures nearby, the time required to actually capture and tame them would slow us down a great deal. Our group will not lack for aerial scouts, though." Possibly including Ya'shenn herself, between her clairvoyant abilities and the wyvern's ability to handle two riders.