It turned out that the party didn't have to swim across the river to Marsember after all.
Iordyn was recognized from afar by an old woman who was sitting alone, fishing with the shadow of the Harbortower cast over her little craft. At first, the sunburned fisher merely saluted him with a small wave, but upon seeing him accompanied by a Purple Dragon, she gave a loud cry to her son, who quickly pushed his own boat from the sandy shore on the western side of Harbortower into the water. Both paddled across quickly, but stayed in their boats. Rafa moved forward quickly, making sure to be the first to speak to them.
"I'll thank you, Mother, to take us to the borders, where we may unfold our business and continue peacefully on our way," he said calmly. "I am Blade Unessmus, servant to you and all Cormyr. Long live the king, his queen, and all those loyal to them."
The elderly woman, whose silvery hair had begun to thin at the crown of her head, nodded quickly as though there were no need for further explanation. The son, a light red haired man that stood uneasily between Rafa's height and Aleksei's, guarded a bleaker expression. Seeing this, the mother pinched her son, who turned on her with a strangely fierce snarl. There was a strong voiced conversation between the two for a few moments, spoken in a language that sounded as though it were a cobbled merging of two very different tongues. After a particularly quiet yet stern argument, the mother won her point, and both parties stood to invite passengers into their boats. Mi'ishaen, Niku and Silveredge went in the old woman's boat, while Aleksei, Iordyn, Valeria and Rafa got into the son's. The mother and son moved through the water for more than an hour without stopping to rest; both Rafa and Iordyn reguarded the passing Marsemban border walls with strong concern in their faces.
"Brother, I would speak with the Dragons of the border," Rafa suggested to the man. "We must go back and-"
"Os ne sei," the man replied, not turning to look at the soldier speaking to him. "Wea we tei, sei. Ua sei; schtei."
"They...eh...never spoke to me before," Iordyn smiled weakly.
"Well, now we know why that was, don't we all?" Rafa sighed helplessly. "I can't understand what he's saying, and we're in his boat. I'm not going to put force to him- if he misunderstands me as badly as I misunderstand him, I'll cause an unnecessary scene. We'll just go where he's taking us and meet up with the guard as soon as possible."
After another silent half hour, mother and son began to sidle up to the coast of a long, looming island. While there was a lot of street movement, Rafa didn't notice any patrolling guards. What he did notice was the unusual combination of moldy stench and fresh baked bread that reached out over the water from the other side of a bridge connecting the island to the city's main land. As they grew closer to the shore, so too the smell grew, until at last the boats reached the underside of the western foundation of the bridge. Valeria put both paws over her nose, though Niku seemed to be wholly unaffected.
"Sei," the old woman nodded, satisfaction in her upright carriage and her voice. "Latanae blesei ennua."
"Thank you, Mother- my deepest thanks to both of you," Rafa said as he pushed at Iordyn's shoulder.
Iordyn, who had nearly fallen asleep, stirred slowly, then sat up. "Blessings be on both of you," he nodded warmly as he stood. Mere seconds after he did, the smell of the place hit him, causing a very visible reaction. "Ughh, where are- oh. Old Arn... the family bakery with the cheese rolls...quite a distance for you both, madam."
With this said, Iordyn fished around in the small packs about his waist and produced a single silvery coin that was very much appreciated by both mother and son. They turned their boats and pushed off as soon as the last of the passengers had hit the shore, and didn't look back even once. Rafa looked about for any sign of guards, but none were to be seen- and he began to wonder if the old woman had misinterpreted his desire to go toward the guards as a desire to avoid them.
"Silver coin is harder to come by here than in other lands?" Aleksei asked Rafa as he watched the pair paddle quickly away.
"Silver?" Iordyn asked, nearly insulted. "Why, that's-"
"Urmlaspyr's coin is still Semmite, remember," Rafa explained with his hand held up to quiet Iordyn. "It all looks different, and no one anywhere takes it at its proper value. Without ever seeing Cormite coin, it's easy to get confused. Come along, let's find a-"
"It certainly doesn't give any clue that the place is run by a pack of idiots instead of just one," Mi'ishaen supplied as the group lurched forward, muscles made loose and lazy by the long boat ride. "Some of the coppers look more like iron or bone, the ink from some of the silvers stain up your clothes, and the gold bits are five sided and sharp- most of them, anyway. Once, I had five different gold pieces that all said they were lions, but had nothing to do with each other other than name alone. I went to the money changer and asked him to give me proper coin- I was told I already had it."
"That's because every city-state had the right to mint its own coin," Rafa noted. "You probably had coin that didn't come directly from Urmlaspyr, but that was still tender there. Cormite coin is minted either in Suzail or High Horn- it's uniform, and unmistakable for any other land's money but its own. That what he gave her, a Cormite tricrown, is worth about twenty Semmite fivestars, right now."
"Cormyrian, man, for Lathander's sake," Iordyn sighed as the group finally found flat enough ground to climb up onto the actual island instead of merely skirting the shore. "Only Semmites call us 'Cormites' like that, as though we were of the same parentage somewhere in history. And that, for the record, isn't true at all."
"Peddle that story around my great grandsire, ser, and see if he'll buy it from you," Rafa replied simply. "It's him what says 'Cormite,' and though he be with one foot in the hole, I'll not cross that cane of his."
"You at least realize it's a Semmite slur?" Iordyn asked. "Those in Suzail would squirm to hear you say it."
"Any fashionable fop in Suzail who wants to squirm does well to remember that the last late King Azoun himself called his people Cormite until the day he closed his eyes," Rafa retorted sharply. "It might be outdated, but old doesn't make it wrong."
"There's an apothecary that works out of his home, right where Chancever meets...eh... it's five more doors up there, where the road forks to two different bridges," Iordyn stated in a strange and flat tone, pointing to the group's left. "It's across the street from a gnome bar called Barrelstone, run by a Sylvan who doesn't speak good Common."
"Well, that I can take care of," Rafa shrugged as he led the group up the street. "Read and write I may not, but my mum wouldn't let me out of her sight until I'd practiced my speech with her. I've two other spoken languages, because of her- is it this one?"
"No... three more doors," Iordyn corrected as Valeria began whining pitifully. "But I... think I'll sit... right here."
"Rasha also has Sylvan," Aleksei offered, reaching out gentle arms to physically convince Iordyn to lean on him. "If you are taking her, Mishka and I will wait here with this one."
"You know what, how about Silveredge go on with Mi'ishaen, and all we menfolk can talk about hunting and the proper end of a sword to hold," Rafa smirked. "Three more doors down, miss, and just poke your head in- here, these are the last silvers Shesua had. They're called falcons, here. Remember, they're worth about twice what you're used to, so don't let yourselves be cozened."
"It will be done," Silveredge replied, bowing slightly. Mi'ishaen frowned for a few moments, but then finally gave Rafa a simple touch to her forehead that pulled away quickly, as though she had a hat to tip at him. Tailed by Niku, the two turned and counted three doors, then knocked at the fourth. In a few moments, the door opened, and all three entered without any problems.
"Well, there's manners for you," Rafa laughed. "Surprised the dog wasn't turned out, though."
"Niku is more like brother than pet," Aleksei shrugged. "Rasha is not understanding- or maybe not wanting to understand- that others will not treat him as she does. She is not even training him- all that he does for her, he does because he wishes to do."
"Oh, she could have fooled me," the soldier frowned. "Is he at least clipped? You know..." He made a cutting gesture with his hand, but rumpled his brow when he saw that Aleksei still didn't understand the question.
"Neither is Valeria," Iordyn nodded. "I've meant to, but... she's never been a worry... no moods, no gadding about with other dogs..."
"Look you, man, the weather's warm," Rafa warned. "If that untaught hound isn't clipped and she isn't either, one of the two of them will get ideas. And the male mayn't even have the benefit of knowing what 'sit' or 'heel' means, from anyone, let alone the girl that won't train him- or even put him on a strap!"
"You must understand that for much of her life, she also is on strap," Aleksei finally sighed. "This is where she is learning all her delicacy, because others are treating her as a pet."
And the two Human males stared at the Dragonborn in utter shock.
"Where- where was this...?" Iordyn managed at last. "Did you... buy her, then?"
"There is not anywhere so much money as can buy or sell a person," Aleksei replied firmly. "I am in my time and also even among my own people seeing the buying and trading of other people- Elves, Humans, fathers, mothers, elders, children- as though they are nothing but cattle. Always this is abhorrent to me; never am I doing this."
Niku's sharp bark brought the men out of their serious reverie, and all three looked up to see a blushing Silveredge accompanied by the well-satisfied Mi'ishaen. The hound dashed up to Aleksei and smashed his head into his leg, drawing a concerned whine from Valeria.
"Little Elf thought he was going to give her withered weeds and charge her like he'd given her top shelf," the Tiefling explained. "I pointed to the good herbs and I said, 'No, those,' and he said, 'I don't understand,' and I said, 'I'll tell the whole town you've got a rat problem.' He says, 'What rat problem?' "
"Syndaraen doesn't have rats," Iordyn said, his brow furrowing slightly. "When has he ever... mold, yes. Rats, never."
"My lord will forgive me, I hope, if I tell him that I made scurrying rats appear?" Silveredge smiled shyly as she clutched the basket of ingredients to her a bit more tightly. "The handmaiden knew the price wasn't right, but wasn't sure how to get it any lower."
"Right; now you have to arrest them," Iordyn sighed, leaning back onto Aleksei's legs. "This one threatened and cheated the shop keep, and that one's an unregistered mage."
"Well, when whatever guard is supposed to be on this side of town shows up, I'll tell them everything," Rafa replied, "including the part where the shop keep attempted to cheat them first. For now, what else does my lady need to brew the potions?"
"Water," Silveredge noted. "One would think that since this is an island, there would be plenty, but-"
"We can go find a tavern," Mi'ishaen suggested. "There's bound to be drinkable water there, and I'd really appreciate eating something other than stale bread and moldy cheese."
"No, no, no, my parents' house is better than any tavern," Iordyn breathed, getting to his feet slowly. "Come- at least brew the mixture in a cleaner, more respectable place- it's on the mainland just down -"
Aleksei looked over to Rafa for a few moments, pushing his head toward Iordyn in a wordless request for permission. Rafa shrugged, and in seconds, Iordyn found that he was suddenly more than six feet away from the ground. Valeria barked loudly and worriedly, bursting into a Niku-like run in circles around Aleksei, but even with her persistence, the group still managed to cross over the bridge leading from the island to the mainland of the city. Before them stood what appeared to be the backside of a rather large manor house, and three streets pulled away from them to the north, east and west.
"Now, which way?" Rafa asked lightly, as though nothing unusual was happening. But before Iordyn could answer, a well-fleshed, rosy cheeked woman, accompanied by two Purple Dragons, hustled down the northern street toward them. Covered from head to toe in a well-detailed linen dress, no bit of flesh or strand of hair poked out anywhere, and an aura of command hung around her nearly as visibly as her garments.
"Blest be, Iordi, what are you doing up there?" the woman asked, a light trace of annoyance in her voice.
"Oh! Mom!" Iordyn replied, trying to get over the feeling that his brain was spinning in his skull. "Will you let me down, Ser Voyonov?"
Instead of simply putting him back on his feet, Aleksei took a knee and allowed Iordyn's feet to touch the ground. Only when the young archer had steadied himself enough to stand away from the Dragonborn did the seven foot tower of scale and leather pull himself back to his full height. Immediately the woman moved forward and snatched him far enough down the street to afford them a modicum of privacy. Valeria bounded after the two of them, making pitiful whining sounds.
"I have to hear from a patrolling guard that some old bag sneaked my missing son past the border?" she whispered fiercely. "I thought you said you were going for a day, not the better part of two days and a night!"
"Mom, you don't understand," Iordyn frowned, squatting slightly to convince Valeria to sit down. "That soldier was with a swordcaptain who's now dead, and I'm helping-"
"What?" the woman exclaimed sharply. Valeria barked in response, and the woman pressed her thin lips firmly together for a few moments in the attempt to calm herself. "You thought you were going to 'help' an inept soldier, a prisoner, a demon-kin and an obvious Shade witch? In your own home town, no less, where everyone can see you do it? Are you mad?"
"I'm not mad, but I've been hurt," Iordyn admitted weakly. "The Shadar-kai at first wanted only to brew a potion for me."
The woman's radiant emerald eyes bolted wide, then narrowed with intensity. "You most certainly will not troop that witch through the streets, young man, now take your leave of the whole menagerie this very instant. To think! Your father shelters you from the war against Shade and how do you repay him? By bringing a Netherese to his very doorstep! Shame, Iordyn Raibeart, shame!"
"Mom, please," Iordyn urged as he put one knee down to the ground completely, "you can't do this to someone who wanted to help me! We must do what we can to show her, and all these, the grace and life-giving mercy of Lathander-"
"Oh, do be practical!" Iordyn's mother sighed. "It's all well and good when you proselytize in the mainland taverns, where at least I know you're relatively safe, but to go out onto the isles and try to make converts of dangerous creatures-"
A holler of surprise arose from behind the mother and son, who quickly turned around to see an unamused Rafa and the scorched herb basket. Silveredge held all the weeds in her arms like a wedding bouquet, and Aleksei moved forward quickly to stamp out what apparently was a spontaneous fire.
"I thought you said you didn't do any magic!" Rafa stormed.
"I said I didn't like magic," Mi'ishaen corrected pointedly. "Anyway, it's obviously it's not a talent I built upon- you ever seen a warlock in armor?"
"You could have at least learned to aim it properly!"
"If I'd aimed it properly, you'd be the one in need of the blasted health potion, you-"
"Hey!" one of the two Purple Dragon guards shouted. "Look, you're not supposed to have done that to begin with, alright? In case Blade Unessmus didn't inform you, magic like that is forbidden in cities- it's arson at worst and disturbance of the peace at best. I ought to fine you at least 300 lions."
"Look, can you just- not?" Rafa sighed. "It's not me decided to come right by the border guard, who would've made all this plain as a psaltery. Swordcaptain Shesua himself would've taken a similar route, based on where we were headed when Ser Raibeart found us in the first place..."
"What were you just trying to do, anyhow?" Iordyn called back, finding his voice scratchier than he would like.
"The handmaiden wondered if she should begin to boil river water and brew at least one potion here," Silveredge replied. "The beloved's actions are not born of rebellion, but instead concern over this delay."
"So you see the extremities that people will reach for when not accorded proper charity?" Iordyn said, turning his attentions back to his mother. "We can't repay good will with closed hearts, or no seed we plant will grow, no project we start will succeed, no prayer we pray-"
Iordyn's mother abruptly stepped around her son and his dog to address all three Purple Dragons, who were still talking about the fine that Mi'ishaen should have incurred.
"My lords, I pray you leave us be. I am most certain the guard already accompanying this group will with all haste make the travelers aware of our customs and laws; therefore, you need trouble yourselves no further here. The Tiefling is young, clearly, and untaught, having just freshly come from another land; let me take her, this Shadar-kai, and the Dragonborn into the blessed forgiveness of Lathander, who would have us encourage all of them on the way to their betterment. Pray you hear me, a well-known and devoted patron of Morningmist Hall."
The two Purple Dragons that had come along with her up the side street inclined their heads to the substantial woman in deference, then gave Rafa a brief salute, which was properly returned. Then with a nod to Iordyn, they separated and went back to their patrolling routes without another word.
"I humbly thank my lady-" Rafa began uncertainly.
"Come along," the woman said simply, turning on her heel and moving away from the group. "You understand the need to walk on Gelguld instead of Chancever?"
"Of course," the Purple Dragon lied. Iordyn made a face at him, and the soldier figured he had better prepare to change careers when he arrived at home.
Iordyn arose from his position gingerly, then joined the group to follow his mother. The linen clad matron moved quickly and silently between the rows of multilevel homes on the left and the mixture of stores and more multilevel homes on the right until she had to turn a rapid right one one street and left on another. At last, she ducked around the back end of a u-shaped manor, and there, behind the proud grey stone, huffed a middle aged Human whose sweaty grey hair had begun to melt away at the center of the back of his head. His face looked remarkably similar to Iordyn, however- strongly featured and stark, even though his skin was beginning to show wear and age. He was working to split fireplace logs, but with every heft of his axe, his breath seemed to be harder to draw.
"My Lord Raibeart," Iordyn's mother called delicately. "I'm afraid we have... company."
"Oh, no," the man sighed, bringing his axe down without chopping the bit of wood that was on his block. "Tell me it's not that same gaggle of loose harpies that only affect a change of heart when he's looking at them."
"No, my lord, it's instead a happy band of outlaws that he seems to have picked up like some blinding plague in the woods," the woman replied, crossing her arms firmly. "What's more, your son is limping and swooning- he thought the work of this darling little hag would fix him up."
"Hey," Mi'ishaen piped up immediately. "This talented alchemist's the only reason that soldier's alive, so lay off. You want scandal, how about you ask the man that put an arrow through a Purple Dragon's skull?"
Iordyn's mother glared daggers at Mi'ishaen, but the man who was quite obviously his father dropped his axe and quickly moved to get the entire party inside. As soon as the back door had been closed on Rafa, who had made certain that he was the last to come through it, Iordyn's father took his turn with the murderous looks.
"Now you explain to me what this devil wench is talking about this instant," he demanded as soon as he'd gotten the group to the sitting room.
"Can... can the Shadar-kai... use the stove?" Iordyn asked in a distant voice. Not moments afterward, his knees buckled, and Aleksei moved forward to keep him from hitting the floor. A small cry of alarm escaped the mother, stopped at once by her own hands clamping over her mouth, but Iordyn's father didn't move a muscle.
"He is coming to much more harm than you are," the Dragonborn noted to Rafa. "I am wondering how this can be possible, since many more of Bahlzair's arrows are hitting you directly."
"I have to credit Silveredge," Rafa frowned, convincing Valeria to sit down by the door with great difficulty.
"Another one with the constitution of a pantywaist," Mi'ishaen shrugged. "And he wants to tell me about delicate dresses- do you people have a stove or don't you?"
The grim-faced Human male looked over to his wife, who had dropped her hands and pursed her lips. With a nod, he allowed her to move as she wished.
"Come with me," Iordyn's mother commanded, moving toward the kitchen with haste. Silveredge followed her quickly, along with a panting Niku and a vaguely amused Mi'ishaen. Rafa and Aleksei meanwhile worked to get Iordyn laid upon a quilt-covered couch. Valeria clearly wanted to move, but a cluck from Iordyn's father put her bottom right back where it had been.
"Now that they're off," the elder Raibeart urged with quiet power, looking from his son's waxen face to those of the scarred Dragonborn and the helmet-less Purple Dragon, "tell me what's happened."
"I'll do it," Rafa replied. "This is Aleksei Voyonov, a convict who was sent for by a mage in Suzail. He's apparently the victim of illness, so he's going to be studied; our task was to bring him back alive at whatever cost. My swordcaptain, Shesua, was sent with no less than five men. Many fell along the way, but a day ago, an Elf- probably a Drow- named Bahlzair attacked us. I and your son got hit with the same attack, although at different times. The Shadar-kai- Silveredge- she was able to administer a healing brew to me, but was harmed herself- your son gallantly allowed me to use his potion on her. I didn't think he was so bad off at first, and so thought the sacrifice but common for a well-bred male. He seemed a little out of sorts when we began moving again after the attack, but... well, I had but few lions left of my swordcaptain, and I told the Shadar-kai to make potions of it for all of us, but- I take responsibility for this, as I must. I pray that he survives."
"Well, it's started," Mi'ishaen reported as she walked back alone from the kitchen. "Silveredge sat down to start that letter of yours; she thought-"
"You," Iordyn's father growled, focusing on the Tiefling at once. "On what grounds do you accuse my son, who risked his life for that of your companion, of killing a Purple Dragon?"
"On the grounds that an arrow of his smacked the guy clean through the skull," Mi'ishaen shot back flippantly. "If it makes you feel better, your whole country's probably better off without the guy he shot."
"There's a little more to it-" Rafa began carefully, seeing an even greater rage leap to the older man's eyes at once.
"He is aiming at me, thinking that I am dangerous, but when he is releasing arrow, Mishka is making herself more dangerous than I by putting guard in the way of his arrow," Aleksei explained calmly. "She is maybe leaving herself out of her story for humility's sake."
"Not bloody likely," Rafa snorted. "Now, we lost four men to slavers, and the swordcaptain himself to that Drow. So if the man your son accidentally hit had lived to report the failure of the mission along with the loss of so many of our own, he'd still be-"
"You're gilding a lily," Mi'ishaen shrugged indifferently. "The man is- thankfully- dead. We all saw it, and we all know he was the last surviving archer in the party- killed by another archer. Whether it was on purpose or not can be made a matter of opinion in any court. So before you think of complaining to the guards about the convict and the so-called witch in your house- who you probably blame for your son's condition even though you were told how it really happened- let me make something clear to you. Even if the rest of these docile souls keep their mouths shut, you let a peep about any of us out of your mouth, and I'll sing about your son's murder- that's right, murder- like a red eyed, horned bird, you got that? If the acid arrows don't kill him, the gallows will."
"Mishka, would not also you hang for putting the man in the way of the arrow?" Aleksei asked, looking over his shoulder at the Tiefling. "This will seem as though you are helping him in his murder, if that is what you will call it."
"If he wants to see if I'm crazy enough to take that risk, here's the invitation," Mi'ishaen replied with a mock curtsey. "I just want m'lord to know that him and his great horned toad don't get to treat us like hot piss in a bucket without repercussions. I've taken about enough of that from Shesua and this prancer already."
"Maybe indeed very serious illness is spreading," Aleksei sighed with a trace of annoyance that somehow made Mi'ishaen smile with a twisted glee. "Mishka is normally very quiet in others' homes, so much so that they are not always knowing she is there."
"You've got to be kidding me," Rafa groaned under his breath, fixing Aleksei with a look of utter disgust.
Yeshua looked at Aleksei for a few more silent moments, then considered Rafa with a calmer visage. "He's going to be examined by a battlemage in Suzail? Which one?"
"Battlemage Ranclyffe," Rafa answered quickly. "On the orders of his daughter, the court mage in Urmlaspyr. He's on the books there for treason, assault, indecency and murder, but they can't try him without finding out whether he's doing it because he's ill and insane or not. One moment, he's talking sense. The next, balderdash- you heard it for yourself, didn't you?"
There was a moment of tense and thoughtful silence.
"You should have slit that demon's throat in the woods," Yeshua nodded, sitting back in his wooden chair. "Once the witch is done with her brewing, you are to leave my house. You cannot threaten me into silence, but you will make yourself useful- I've a letter that needs to meet someone in Suzail. Put it in the hands of a guard over there, leave whatever the witch makes with me, and I will not say anything about this to anyone."
"I humbly thank my lord," Rafa breathed quietly.
"Pfft, as if your thanks meant anything anywhere outside of an empty latrine," Yeshua scoffed bitterly, standing up suddenly. "I'm going to advise my wife to destroy that pot once the witch is done with it. May all the gods have mercy on your soul, soldier, because if I ever see you again, I promise you that I will not."
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