The Library of Phiraz, Academic Quarter, Phiraz
May 22nd, 761, 4:52 PM; Day 66 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Once the books have given up pursuit...and not a moment too soon, as Charles is really not all that much of a runner...he turns back to retrieve his erstwhile pursuers. His mad career had taken him through much of the library, and his flight and the flying books together had drawn a fair amount of attention; no-one else is really eager to pick up the books, but when Charles has three or four in his arms he is able to prevail on a pair of librarians to take up the others. As a little convoy of book-bearers they go back to the room of origin, where they lay the books on a table and the librarians begin to inspect them for damage.
At around this time, the Confessor and Lia returned to the original room, the Confessor pausing at his table to pick up the book he had been reading and place it inside his robe. "Well, sir, miss, I believe I have a few questions for you now." The Confessor was a tall, ascetic looking man like most of his brethren, with a trim, neat black beard and piercing blue eyes.
"I will do my best to answer, Reverence," Charles says in Vaasi. "We are very grateful for your assistance...shocking...quite unexpected."
"Twas my duty." The Confessor said. "To begin with... who was this person you met with, and what was this about the copying of a book, and where did she go?"
"She is...well. Let me take the last question first. I do not know where she went." Lia goes to stand a pace behind Charles, her head bowed, hands folded demurely together. "She absconded with a book which I particularly wanted to see, because I believe it would tell me a great deal about her. She...is a servant of the heathen god Anubis, and our enemy. I could make any number of wild speculations about her, but in truth we know very little. Hence my desire for the book."
"Heathen gods.... forbidden books.... disappearances and powerful magic." The Confessor said quite mildly. "Had I not seen it, I doubt I should believe it."
"We are fortunate indeed to have a witness of such indubitable probity," Charles acknowledges.
"Tell me how two foreigners, and heathens, no doubt," The Confessor said without rancor, "Managed to attract the attention of a priestess of Anubis, if such she was?"
'Hell's bells,' Lia thinks, though she neither moves nor speaks.
'Don't say something stupid, don't say something stupid -!'
Sensing Lia's rising anger and anxiety, Charles continues smoothly, "We are en route to Har'Akir, Reverence, as members of an archaeological expedition. She learned of our destination in some way unknown to us, and has declared her intention to prevent us from reaching our destination."
'Aaaaarghh!' Lia thinks.
"I see...." The Confessor rubbed at his beard in thought. "I believe this may be of interest to the Prophet. And I think it shall be of interest if a few more of my brothers are near you, in case of a recurrence."
'Aaaaarrghh!' Lia thinks again, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment.
'We are getting an escort of these people -!'
"A very generous offer," Charles says, bowing. "One can never be too careful in such matters, of course. But we would be quite sorry to distract fyou and your brothers from your appointed duties?"
"And if this woman appears again?" The Confessor was not easily mollified. "The peace of the city is one of our paramount concerns.
"On all previous occasions," Lia speaks up, "she struck but once, then disappeared for days, even weeks on end. Her style of doing things does not include protracted battles, it would seem. Like a jackal or a scorpion, she strikes then withdraws for a time."
"My cousin has the right of it, Reverence," Charles says. "You saw that she was at pains to threaten no-one but ourselves, and we...we will soon be gone. When next she reveals herself we will doubtless be deep in the desert...but such things are no concern of yours."
"We are most grateful for your assistance at present, but in truth there is but little further aid we can receive from you, I fear."
"I see." The Confessor stroked his beard again. "Very well, let it be as you say. This troubles me, but with Angra Mainyu on the loose, we cannot spare as much as we would wish. However, should you ever be in need of aid, contact me. Judge Jalil al-Shirazi is my title and name, and I shall attempt to aid you."
"The city is troubled, Reverence?" Charles says. "What is this Angra Mainyu?"
"Angra ... Mainyu?" Lia repeats, clearly puzzled. "I have not heard of anyone by this name. A murderer?"
"There have been some unpleasantries, but it is not your concern." Judge al-Shirazi waved it away. "I wish you well upon your journey."
"Thank you for your kind assistance and your advice, judge, son of Shirazi," Lia says with a half-bow.
"You are most kind, Reverence," Charles says, bowing himself.
"You are most welcome." The Confessor rose also. "And if I may offer a final piece of advice. Do not stay in Phiraz over-long. Good day to you, Dhimmi."
Lia snakes her arm through Charles's. "Come, cousin," she says in saccharine tones. "We should ask the librarian to copy those books you want."
"Indeed," Charles says, not quite flinching at the unexpected gesture, which he is pretty sure (combined with the tone of voice) presages a tongue-lashing. "Let us arrange our business and leave the judge to his. Salaam, Reverence."
"Salaam, Dhimmi." The Confessor bowed his head lightly, and left to return to whatever intricacy of Akiri inheritance law had concerned him before the interruption.
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Later, as Lia and Charles returned to the Library of Phiraz from their brief turn around outside, they found Prof. Pelletier, Prof. Marchand-Renier, and Remy waiting for them at the steps of the Library.
"Lia! Charles!" Prof. Pelletier called, before suddenly breaking into a prolonged and severe coughing fit. The elder professor paled a bit, breathing hard as it subdued, then continued in a raspy voice. "Are you quite alright? There was some sort of commotion."
"Yes...and someone seems to have gotten into a few too many mathematical disputations..." Prof. Marchand-Renier noted dryly, observing Charles's several bruises.
The Grand Bazaar, The Merchant's Quarter, Phiraz
May 22nd, 761, 4:52 PM; Day 66 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Lostboy wrote:Turning back to Faruq with a slightly more serious expression Khalil asks: "Affendi, where in this great city has the demon struck?"
YalenusVeler wrote:"I..I would think your term for it is most fitting then. Is there..anything that unites the victims? Something in common?" A commonality would provide some sort of logic to the attacks, some way to say that no, this wasn't a demon, just some particularly vile magus, or some sort of magical beast...and not something spawned from the hells themselves.
"Nay, Effendi..." Faruq said, calling his memory of the eerie rumors that swirled around Phiraz. "The fiend took whoever it wished, three nights in a row."
"The first night, it slew four men who caroused outside the Nest of Many Serpents, a drinking establishment within the Lower Quarter. Twas midnight, more or less, and no good men were abroad, but these four ruffians were torn limb from limb, and their faces and souls stolen."
"The second night, a young pair of noble lovers in the Park of Eleven Fountains were murdered, not three blocks from the Temple of the Prophet, their bodies like crushed grapes."
"And last night, a good family of butchers, Makram and his wife and son, were murdered and mutilated in their home, the first such attack upon people inside of doors."
"Nobles and peasants, law-abiding merchants and roustabouts alike are under attack. And the demon, it fears no numbers, for the first four ruffians were well armed with staves and torches, and yet it did them no good."
Faruq sighed, then clearly tried to turn his mind to happier matters. "Will that be all, Effendi?"
Slaughterhouse District, The Old Quarter, Phiraz
May 22nd, 761, 4:52 PM; Day 66 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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DocBeard wrote:"Go back to the Professor." Tomas speaks slowly, hollowly, as if his soul had just been knifed in the gut. They were too late? They were too late. "Take Loup. That way, the Confessors can only charge me, instead of all of us. You two can say I threatened you, if it comes to that."
"Don't be ridiculous." Guy waved off Tomas's attempts to protect him with three simple words. Or two words and a contraction, if one were to nitpick. "Come on, I'll help you look."
And look they did, for nearly a quarter of an hour. But nothing was found. There
was a cellar below the house where meat was hung up and cured, and a fair amount of blood all over the house leading to the cellar, but no more. Past a certain point, the bloody footprints just... disappeared in the middle of the cellar.
Nor was there any way further down. No stairwell, no trapdoors, no sub-cellars or basements or anything of that sort.
