Xanderian walked silently through the moonlit streets of Dol Amroth. Her sister and Finchley and Edu had returned home two nights ago, with two newcomers in tow. Aliandith of the Firstborn, and a woman called Ellsabeth fleeing boredom and frustration in Bree.
As the full moon rose, and Xandilif could not be found on the island, Rian had judged that she had gone to Dol Amroth. As her trail led the huntress down to the docks, and then through a warren of alleyways and switchbacks, she knew PRECISELY where her difficult sister had gone. The Albatross, her favorite place in Gondor to go and think when she had thorny problems at hand.
Down the last staircase, along a stretch of abandoned sewer tunnel to a gateway with a hulking guard in front of it. As Xanderian approached, he stopped leaning against the wall and addressed her, setting the butt end of his halberd in front of her. "Hello there m'lady, you looking for the Albatross?" Xanderian shook her head, staring up at his sneering face. "No thank you, the one about my neck is more than enough." The guard nodded as the proper pass phase had been given, more or less. and he stepped to the side, opening the heavy iron door for Xanderian.
She moved silently down the long spiral staircase to the first level, drinks and light entertainment, mostly legal. Then a second staircase near the back and past another guard who looked her over before letting her pass. The second level...sins of the flesh. Women, men, elves, dwarves, large dogs, chained trolls...if you had the coin, they had the love for you, somewhat illegal. One more staircase, another guard passing her through, and she stepped out into The Pit, not even remotely legal. The stench of blood and sweat and vomit and cheap liquor was like a visible cloud in the large room. A soft roar was always present, the sound of the merciless sea just beyond the heavy walls. Xanderian looked around, she could hear the cheers and howls of a moderately sized crowd beyond the curtains. She glanced at the man behind the bar, large and brusque but with a strange sense of nobility to him. He had once been a Swan Knight, until a burst of wyrmfire reduced the left side of his face to slag, and his left leg to ash. He nodded as he recognized her.
She smiled. She remembered him before that day that changed his life...and on the day itself. His crimes would need to be grave indeed to erase her smile for him. "Good evening Janus. is she here?"
He chuckled. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't already know she was, Monk. She is in the ring at the moment, A new boy, who thinks he is all that, figures he is going to make a fortune." He stepped out from behind the bar, peg leg and crutch thumping on the hardwood floor, and pulled the curtain to the side for her.
In the center of a circle of spectators, gamblers and bookies was a massive young man, the sunburns across his bare shoulders showed he was not long off the farm, where he must have wrestled bulls for fun. At the moment he was hitting the elven Champion Xandilif again and again with his ham like fists, lefts, rights, combinations...but every time he felt he was ready to finish her, she seemed to roll away from him. So far she hadn't so much as touched him. He hadn't really understood that she hadn't tried. He assumed she was scared or just burned out. Didn't matter, the purse was 500 gold, there were thirty seconds left to the bout, he hadn't been hit yet, and there were no rules. Dead, alive, or something in between...the one who could still raise a fist skyward when the bell rang won
Xanderian moved to the inner edge of the spectators, calling out to the grinning farmboy. "You there...country lad....yield now before she kills you."
The farmboy smirked and landed another right which sprayed Lif's blood into the crowd. He was confident enough as the clock wound down to talk. "Like heck I will...always wanted to kill one a these magic girls, see if they squeal like the girls back in the Vale. Ain't all high and mighty now, is she...my pa said they were tough, not that I can see...."
Xanderian just sighed and turned away. "Why you enjoy this sort of thing is beyond me, Banshee...." The bell rang, 10 seconds left, as the farmboy drew a haymaker back to put the smaller Elleth down once and for all.
At the sound of the 10 second bell, Xandilif drove forward with one hand, her palm landed sharply on the big man's solar plexus causing his lungs to spasm in convulsions. Sliding under his now stalled haymaker and past him she drove the point of her right elbow down at an angle into his hip joint, dislocating it with a sickening snap. As he dropped down to his knees she continued the circle around him slamming her right forearm into the left side of his throat, his eyes rolling back as blood flow to his brain was disrupted but still she continued around. Now she was facing him again, drawing her left hand back, fingers pointed as he started at her with confused, doe-like eyes, his body already shutting down to try and control the damage. Over his shoulder Lif saw her sister, who shook her head firmly. The Maiden of Madness shrugged, and rather than drive her fingers into his eyes, and into his tiny brain beyond...she arrested the blow and caught his large, hawk-like nose between two fingers and snapped it, ensuring if he survived the night, he would have a scar to remember his foolishness by, along with his diminished lung capacity and permanent limp of course.
As the crowd booed and cheered and screamed, Lif pushed her way out of the circle. After that, the crowd was giving her a wide berth. She gestured that Xanderian should join her at a corner table as she drank grog and started wiping blood off her face, the wounds healing rapidly.
Xanderian sighed. "You should find a better way to keep it interesting then letting them have their way until the last moment...its childish. At any rate we need to compare notes. Mans returning to Kheledul surprised me."
Lif nodded, spitting blood onto the floor then taking a healthy swig of grog, swishing it around loose teeth and bleeding gums. "A few rounds down here always clears my head, especially when we got this many irons in the fire. Yeah....don;t like the sound ot Kheledul at all. Lets say I dump my bag first, then you dump yours."
Rian nodded. "Yours sounds bigger, so go ahead..."
The Champion nodded at the barmaid who brought more grog and a neat stack of 500 gold pieces and left it on the table. "OK, we find this Catalinna and her sister, plus the pet Daleman and another skirt, an Angmar girl from her smell in fecking Trestlebridge of all places. This Catalinna is a real piece of work, aggressive as hell and real wary. Apparently they ran into some bad magic in Aughaire already and the whole pack was running scared. While we were parlaying, a couple Unsealed priests tried to kill her. Arrows and a few risen, not a major issue. They don't get far with it but before he dies the priest mentions Desad as his Master, says Desad did for this Cat's mother as well as Cat's CHILD....from the look on her face Catalinna didn't have the foggiest what he was talking about so that might have just been blowing smoke."
Xanderian nodded softly. "Interesting, and?"
Lif took another sip. "This Cat has a bracelet she says she found at her mother's grave...with the Witchstar on it. She also said the grave was defaced with the symbol of the Unsealed, only she didn't know what it meant, just a circle and three lines. After they insisted on keeping their distance, we go around to Moyna's grave, as one of the priests had a map to it in his robe. When we got there, we find three dead would-be graverobbers, and Moyna herself, who has a chat with Finchley. Fills her in about the Cursemark and this Agunala who is trapped by it and why and how, but you can get all that from her better than me. The key thing she says as far as i am concerned is that this Cat is her REAL granddaughter, and is going to need to become a proper witch in order to dispel this Agunala and save Finchley. Unfortunately Cat and her bunch made tracks soon after that rocket was launched, but I had figured they would. They will be back. The first step to doing that is a Chalice in the last treasury of Arvedui, and once we get it, we will learn what to do next."
Xanderian nodded slowly. "So then the destinies of Small Finchley and Catallina are indeed enmeshed...which is why Desad has been so focused on keeping us away from this Catallina..or perhaps he has been attempting to push us towards her out of curiosity and spite."
"Don't think so...he seems pretty sincere in wanting to keep us from her, and confuse us about everything that is going on." Xandilif took another drink and slid the gold into her belt pouch. "Then we found out this Elsa has a blood ward put on her through her great granny...by Moyna, no idea what that is about. I for one am too confused to tell my ass from Udun. How was the Memorial?"
Xan smiled. "Moving, saddening, momentous for Nethrida, and we were told by the Doves that the permits for the vessel Mans escaped on were forged by the same hand as framed Hawke...and that the ship sailed for Kheledul with our foe on board after committing typical atrocities."
Lif sighed. "Only two reasons for him to hightail it back to Dourhand country when he ain't even a Dourhand no more...."
Xan nodded. "Indeed...he needs to consolidate power in some fashion and requires his old forces and places of power, or he wishes to drag us to a place he knows will attract us as a trap. Either way he should not be an immediate threat....Desad however..."
"Has gone for us twice now." Lif took another swig. "So we are decided, we go for the Chalice first and leave Mans and the traitor in the White City for after."
Xan sighed and rose. "Which will take us back to Fornost. I know a few different locations that may hide this treasure but....they will not be pleasant."
Lif laughed and called the buxom waitress over. "Nothing ever is...but we gotta get home. Babygirl might be awake by now." As the serving girl cleared the table Xandilif tucked a heavy gold coin down her bodice. "Here ya go sweetmeat, use this to tighten up the old moneymakers."
The two sisters nodded at Janus and made their way back up out of the Albatross. They had no more answers then they started with, but at least they had decided on their next destination...the ruins of tragic Fornost, the last bastion of Arnor.
