Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Tetsukichi and Salt follow Bo-Jing Part 2 - the Grand Reunion

 Tetsukichi and Salt, disguised as Guardians, joined a group of the Master's soldiers who were pursuing the mysterious foreigners that Tetsukichi and Salt hoped in fact were their friends.

The soldiers were happy and honored to be joined by such learned companions and the group set off. Conversation was awkward as most of the party, despite their disguises could not speak Hun-Yi. However, the white-robed soldiers did not question the apparent reticence of their superiors; they set themselves to their mission and with their locals’ knowledge of the countryside, the group traveled quickly, reaching the banks of a river by the end of the day. Here, the soldiers, explained, they should camp for the night and the make a plan to ford the river the next day.

The travelers, still disguised as Guardians, agreed to the plan and made their own camp some distance from the soldiers. According to Mustapha, the effects of his magic would wane as the sun set.

The soldiers, accepting another rebuff with little protest, made their own camp next to the river, and prepared a fire.  A few hours after sunset, the party noticed another group approaching from the other side of the river.  A woman from the other group called out a greeting, and then asked if any of the soldiers spoke Zhou.  By luck, two of them did and they exchanged banter with the woman and her friends across the river.  In time, the party recognized the voices of Salt and Bo-Jing.  They called out to them from the upper camp, and using a few words in Tuigen, confirmed that they were all friends. The soldiers, confused at first, gratefully accepted the words of their “superiors” that these charming foreigners were spreading Ignorance. The soldiers were especially grateful to recognize the foreigners as “allies” when a they suddenly appeared on the other side of the river (thanks to clever use of Salt’s portable apartment and Bo-Jing, night-colored flying horse.)

The still-disguised “Guardians” explained to the soldiers that they had fulfilled their mission. They should sleep until morning and then return to Gilgat alone.

The night passed and in the morning, the soldiers followed the instructions they’d received the night before, breaking camp and departing with an awkward salute to the sleeping tents of the Guardians on the hill. When the soldiers had gone, the assembled company greeted each other and planned their next move.  Salt the sorceress, finding the presence of Narnutang the woman warrior even more objectionable than her reputation, retreated into her magical apartment.

The others began their journey home, sharing stories about their respective journeys across Hunza and pondering the strange words of the giant bird. Bo-Jing made frequent scouting sorties and assisted his companions to avoid any more encounters with the remnants of the Master's armies and other followers.

Sunday, February 18, 2024

Bo-Jing Follows HIs Wife Part 2

Based on Batar’s directions, Bo-Jing flew west, following the course of a rod. When the road forked North and South, he didn’t follow either fork but continued westward, toward the darkest spot in the mountain range before him. Towards sunset, Bo-Jing saw an enormous bird rising into the sky, carrying a limp body in its talons. He urged Tse-Hemi to gradually descend as he continued his approach toward a group of people and horses on the ground. Some men were struggling to manage panicked horses while others cowered behind rocks or under trees. Among the horses and shouting men was Narantsetseg. She had seen Bo-Jing and was walking toward him, even as he glided toward the ground.

Bo-Jing slid off his horse and walked slowly toward her. Her eyes fixed on his face and she smiled and ran to him and kissed his haggard cheeks. 

“Let others have the morning sun. Too long I have waited for the cool evening rain.”

Bo-Jing received a full recounting of his wife’s quest to find him. He thanked Narnutang and Dolkar for protecting her and mourned the loss of Altani, who had been killed a band of savage and cunning bears, seemingly of the same ilk that had harassed Bo-Jing on the red dragon’s bluff. Finally, he dismissed the bandits who had trailed her from Banua.

And so it was time to return home. After giving the bandits an opportunity to ride out of sight, Bo-Jing asked his wife to join him on Tse-Hemi’s back and started the return journey. After an hour’s travel in darkness, they made camp, with Narnutang and Dolkar agreeing to share responsibilities for keeping watch. The next morning, they were met once more by the giant bird, who spoke to them in Zhou: “Your friend was a holy and righteous man, a most noble soul. His beautiful and generous heart has nourished my children.”

The bird continued, “So, you human children must nourish yourselves for a time is coming when you will be tested like never before. Hosadas was a wicked man, corrupted by power, but centuries ago he defeated a greater evil. When Hosadas gone, the Zaharans are preparing their return.”

The Zaharans, according to the bird were an people besotted with death and cruelty. The remnants of their capital lay beyond the Dark Wall. “Whoever told you to seek passage to the place of Hosadas was not your friend.”

The Roc explained that at the time Hosadas first came to the land of Hunza, he had a rival, a man remembered only as the “Broken Saint” who preached that the Zaharans could not be defeated by any human army, but only by the power of love and righteousness. When the Broken Saint was killed, his followers buried him in secret, and their descendants might still be found in the most remote corners of Hunza. But that was a quest for another day.

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

The Lingering Disquiet of the Khatun Part 2

Narantsetseg left a letter with Batu explaining that she feared for her husband’s life and would find him though it cost her her own.

As companions, she chose Altani, the long trusted shaman, and Narnutang, the woman warrior would had established her reputation for prowess and loyalty fighting at Bo-Jing’s side during some of his most desperate battles, and Dolkar, a baghatur of high birth, so far unproven. Tetsukichi, visiting hero of the Sansar clan, had identified Dolkar as a youth of great promise, despite his penchant for gambling and other reckless behavior.

The people of Banua would speculate why the Khatun selected this small retinue to escort her on her journey. Less conscientious chronicles might join in these speculations, this one only reports knowable facts.

Narantsetseg and her retinue made their way first to the monastery on the ridge. The monks there did their best to persuade the Khatun that she should trust her husband to return and failing that, she should trust her people to protect her and, remembering her young child, return to the safety and comfort of Banua. But she would not be persuaded and, after threatening to venture into the wilds with nothing to guide her but her love stricken heart, the monks took pity and gave her their best counsel.

The monastery had a well-stocked library including several maps. The monks that they should travel due north for a day, changing their course to the west as the sun set. For another week they should travel westward, through the open country that separated the Empire from Hunza. The Master’s realm was surrounded by steep mountains. As they reached the mountains, they should find a stream and follow the reverse of its course. Finally, they copied from a map, the sketch of the safest pass between the mountain peaks.

Even with the monks directions, the journey was a difficult one. It was cold and the stream bed was dry. Narantsetseg responded to the hardship of the journey by insisting on her status of the Khatun. The three members of her retinue, being little acquainted with each other, did not dare to discuss their misgivings about the journey, their questions about what they would find in the land where a larger, more powerful group of adventurers with no queen to escort had disappeared.

By the time they reached Hunza, Altani, Nanutange, and Dolkar had gone two days with nothing to eat or drink but gravelly snow scooped from a crevasse I the pass. So when they saw a farmstead, they approached boldly. The farm was deserted, and the scavenging travelers made a meal of half-spoiled grain. The water in the well was clean.

The next day, they reached working farmland. The farmers did not speak to them, but happily received the Khatun’s gold in exchange for good food and decent beds.

After several days, they reached Magden, a large market town on the river. The Khatun found a good inn and the others split up to try to learn more. The Most people were unfriendly, or didn’t speak Zhou-Yi, or both. No one wanted to the discuss the Knowledge of the Master, but the Guardians of the Knowledge were even stricter in enforcement, closing the town gates at dusk and shuttering townspeople in their houses after dark.

Nevertheless, the Khatuna and her retinue did confirm that yes, almost a year ago, Magden had been visited by a company of foreigners, led by the “One with a the Face Like the Morning Sun.” The people of Magden didn’t know why he had come or where he had gone, and before they could find anyone to answer such questions, Narnutang did something that forced them to leave the town quickly.

With no other plan, they followed the road westward, passing through more farmland, and then into forests and wilderness. One night, when camping in a clearing under tall trees, they heard deep moaning from deep in the forest. As the sound drew closer, it was answered by another moan of the same timbre. Narnutang recognized the sounds as belonging to bears, but heard something alien in their vocalizing. Altani, long accustomed to leaving among the beasts, called out to them, imitating their ursine moan. The voices answered viciously, even seeming to pronounce insults and invoking the name “Zahra.” And then the bears rushed into the clearing.

Dolkar stood by the Khatun and readied his bow. Narnutang and Altani stood on opposite sides of the clearing, with weapons ready. The bears charged in, each taking an arrow from Dolkar without recoiling. Altani raised his staff in front of him and continued to murmur soothing words. The bear attacking Narnutang was met with similar slashes from her sword. Neither charm nor force deterred the bears attack. They swatted with their enormous paws and lunged with open jaws. Narnutang was knocked to the ground, but when the bear stooped to finish her, Narnutang braced her sword against the ground and drove its point into the bear’s throat; Narnutang rolled away, extracting her blade as the beast feel with a heavy thud.

Altani, meanwhile had been severely beaten, slashed and, and bitten. Narnutang rushed in, and while the bear was doing its best to bite through Altani’s staff, thrust her blade into its side, finding its heart.

Altani tended to the Khatun, and then to Narnutang, and then to himself. Guessing that it was close to dawn, the party elected to press on in the darkness, and put the danger of the forest behind them.

Over the next few days, they timed their travel carefully, and paid liberally to sleep in huts and barns along the road to a town named Gilgat.

As the sun was setting, the lights of Gilgat came into view. Remembering the curfew in Magden, the travelers elected to camp in the hills. But as they were starting a fire, they heard the moans of bears; as in the party’s previous encounter, the ursine voices seemed to call to each other across a distance, and seemed to be drawing closer on all sides. Leaving their fire still burning, the party mounted their horses and made haste toward the lights of the town. Narnutang led the way and when, she encountered a bear, closed with it to fight, urging the others to press on. The bear was eager for the fight, and called for its fellows. Narnutang slashed at the bears head, severely wounding it, and then followed her companions.

Gilgat provided a most uncivil welcome, demanding that the travelers prostrate themselves and declare their allegiance to the Master. When Narantsetseg refused, she was thrown to the ground and beaten until she wouldn’t get up again.

The Guardians summoned their superior, Batar, one of the Experts of the Knowledge, who ordered that they brought to his own house for questioning. At Batar’s house, Altani was permitted to tend to Narantsetseg’s wounds, and they were provided a place to sleep.

Batar woke them at dawn and fed them. As they ate, he asked why they had come and seemed very pleased with their answer. Yes, he had heard about the One With a Face Like the Morning Sun. He and and his companions had visited Gilgat close to a year ago and left in secret after offending the Guardians.

Batar had given it little thought at the time, accepting his subordinates assessment that this was just a foreigner troublemaker. But there were rumors now that he was The One. The Master’s successor. For since that time, there had been no new Knowledge from the palace over the mountains. Instead of Knowledge, there were rumors that the war had been lost, the Master’s armies broken and scattered, his bright-eyed soldiers returning in confusion.

Batar pressed the travelers on the identity of the man they were seeking. Why had he come? Was he the One? Was he the new Master? They didn’t know.

Batar had never been to the palace over the mountains. The only way he knew to get to the palace of the Master was over the Dark Wall, the citadel of the Zaharans before the coming of Hosadas. The Master, of course, had another way, but Batar didn’t know it. Again, he had never been invited. The Dark Wall was a dangerous place and becoming more so. The beasts who lived there were turning wicked and migrating from the wilderness to the fields and villages. There were rumors—not Knowledge—about flying lizards gathering in the sky above the old Zaharan citadel.

“If your friend is the Master’s Successor, then he will protect you from these forces of ignorance and help you cross the Dark Wall. Whoever he is, if you live long enough to find him, tell him that Batar showed you kindness.”

Batar allowed Narantsetseg and her retinue to leave Gilgat by a rear gate, directing them to the Dark Wall.

The next day, the retinue were met by bandits. Not Guardians or soldiers, but bandits. Zhounese thugs who had followed them all the way from Zhou-Deng. “We were supposed to escort the Khatun, but you left before we had the chance.” They were eight in number, but carried poor weapons, and did not sit strong in the saddle. Dolkar’s hand drifted to his sword and the Khatun looked to the open road. But Narnutang spoke up. “We are glad you have found us. The Khatun will gladly pay you handsomely for your escort. And give you an additional reward when we return to Banua.”

The bandits smiled and their leader gratefully accepted a heavy bag of coins.

The bandits were poor escorts. They rode badly, had difficulty crossing the river, drank at night, and didn’t wake in the morning. But when the group reached the Dark Wall and the bears attacked, they were the easiest prey. While the cruel beasts tore apart two of the cowardly bandits, the Khatun’s true protectors secured the high ground and prepared their bows. As a half-dozen bears gathered around them, Dolkar and Narnutang assailed them with arrows. Some fears fled and others chased another of the fleeing bandits into a canyon. One bear, however, did scale the archers’ post and fell on Altani, seizing him with both arms and crushing his body. Narnutang drew her sword and killed the beast, but the loyal Altani was dead.

In the distance, the sound of screaming bandits were silenced and the few remaining bears retreated with their feast, but the party knew they would return.

Naransteseg collapsed in hysterical sobs. “What have I done?”

A shadow fell over them and Dolkar looked up to see an enormous bird descending.

Sunday, February 11, 2024

Tetsukichi and Salt follow Bo-Jing

Tetsukichi and Salt, together with their followers traveled overland, toward the monastery on the northern ridge that marked the frontier of the Naran horde. The monks confirmed that Bo-Jing had visited there and that they had helped him plan his route to Hunza in hopes of finding Narantsetseg. The party rested, studied the same maps that had been presented to Bo-Jing, and then continued their journey.

They crossed the borderlands without incident, and after several days of hard riding, crossed the mountain pass into Hunza. Traveling in Hunza was less arduous as water was plentiful and there was good grass for their horses, plus opportunities to hunt and forage and thus supplement their meals of dried beef and hard bread. Forest gave way to open land and they found shelter for the night in a deserted farmstead. The next day they came to a road and, traveling along it, encountered a group of soldiers traveling in the same direction, most of them on foot. The party greeted the soldiers peaceably, with Tetsukichi and Salt’s native-born Hunzan henchmen speaking for the party. The soldiers were returning from the front, exhausted and famished; they gratefully accepted the offers of food and the use of the party’s spare horses. Thanks to the party’s generosity, the two groups soon agreed that they would travel together to Magden, the closest town. The soldiers explained the Master’s attempts to disseminate the Knowledge to the wider world had proved fruitless; the Ignorant were too many. The war was over and they had lost. And yet here they were, alive, and home again. And despite the Master’s warnings, their homes were not being overrun by the ignorant. In the initial retreat, the casualties had been severe, but they had survived, and the ignorant ones had not pursued them.

The group arrived in Magden with great commotion. The party separated from the main body of soldiers, and found a room at an inn, also paying for a couple destitute soldiers. The following days, the party began seeking information about Narantsetseg or Bo-Jing. Tetsukichi met a very friendly merchant who had traveled throughout the Northern and Southern empires and who spoke very good Zhou-Yi. Tetsukichi was uneasy accepting the merchant’s hospitality but was glad to hear the news of recent visits by foreigners. According to the merchant, the visitors were headed for the “Dark Wall” a dangerous place in the west of the country. While talking to the merchant, Tetsukichi witnessed a fierce debate between three different groups of robed men and women. The merchant, with some embarrassment explained that there had been some “controversy about The Master.” There had been a visitor several months ago, one who had “a face like the morning sun” and there were rumors that he had been chosen to be the Master’s successor. And yet, the question was still unclear and “people are getting confused and there are those who say that the Guardians of Knowledge have not maintained order properly and you know, that can be bad for business and there is also the question about what is going on with this on-going event that we sometimes call the war against the ignorant.”

Salt, meanwhile, noticed that the returning soldiers were being accused of spreading propaganda and disinformation from the enemies of Knowledge. A group of red-robed Guardians came to the inn and arrested the soldiers staying there.

Salt and Tetsukichi decided not to spend the night. The party left Magden, in twos and threes, first heading in different directions before regrouping on the west road to Gilgat.

The party continued their journey, passing through farmland, and sometimes sighting residents, but they did not have any more interactions until they reached Gilgat. They entered the town quietly in the early morning hours; Mustapha used his magic to disguise them all as natives of Hunza, a group of red-robed Guardians. While getting oriented in the town, they met a squad of white-robed soldiers who requested their attention. “Oh reasoned ones, will you give us some words of encouragement?”

The soldiers, it seemed had been charged with tracking down and arresting a group of ignorant foreigners who had visited the town a few days before and were believed to be spreading ignorance as they traveled toward the Great Wall. The foreigners were described as including a finely-dressed woman, whom the party concluded must be Narantsetseg. Based on this information, the party, still enjoying the benefit of their magical disguises, volunteered to accompany the soldiers and assist them in their mission.

Sunday, October 15, 2023

Bo-Jing Follows His Wife

Satisfied that he had established himself as the new protector of the Master’s Palace, mourning his lost beauty, and missing his wife, Bo-Jing concluded that it was time to return home, using the wondrous teleportation room in the Master’s sanctum. In addition to his trusted henchmen, he invited two natives of Hunza to join his retinue, a crafty carpenter named Nagar Ahmar and a farmer who took a new name, Lin Zhou. Lin Zhou’s parents had emigrated from Zhou-Deng to Hunza when he was infant, attracted by tale’s of the Master’s wisdom and entrusting their son into his care. Having known noting but toil, Lin Zhou was strong and brave, and eager to see the world beyond the Master’s wheat fields. Bo-Jing promised that Lin Zhou would meet his consort, the Khatun, and then they would travel together to the “island of angels” where Bo-Jing hoped he would regain the youthful appearance he had lost in an instant in his encounter with the true spirit of Hosadas. Salt also invited two of the Master’s former followers to join her—Zhak-Shi a former red-robed enforcer skilled in both swords and sorcery and Wu-Jin-Fen, a young man from Zhou-Deng who had traveled to Hunza and joined the Master’s ranks as a scribe. Wu-Jin-Fen had learned much about Hunza and was eager to learn magic from Salt. Finally, Hu-Fei, the longtime resister to the Master’s tyranny who had assisted the party in evading the enforcers was happy to accept Tetsukichi’s invitation to accompany him to the “land of horses.” Hyamsam and Bangqiu, meanwhile, elected to remain in the Master’s palace, experimenting with the various strange objects which Hosadas had accumulated over the centuries.

It was a strange homecoming for Bo-Jing. He read in the faces of his people their discomfort with his changed appearance. Or so he believed. Soon, his protege Batu revealed the truth. The Khatun, despairing of  the long and unexplained absence of her her unnaturally handsome husband, had gone to look for him. For almost a year she had waited for news of her husband’s success or failure in his fight against the Master. For almost a year, she had waited for her husband to return and give a name to the son whom she had borne him. And then, five weeks ago, she had entrusted the boy to a nurse and selecting as her companions only Altani the holy man and Narnuteng the woman warrior, Narantsetseg the unhappy Khatun had set off for the Land of Hunza, determined to learn the fate of her husband.

And so Bo-Jing wasted no time going after his wife. He called for Tses-Hami, his flying horse and within an hour was flying toward the mountains and the monastery that would have been Narantsetseg’s most reasonable intermediate destination on the way to Hunza.

Bo-Jing, on Tse-Hami’s back, flew through stinging rain, reaching the lights of the Monastery as night was falling. The monks confirmed that they had sheltered the Khatun, they had encouraged her to wait with them where it was safe, but that she had been determined to find him. The monks that, after a good night’s sleep, they would show Bo-Jing the maps of Hunza by which Narantsetseg had planned her route.

The next morning, with the monks’ help, Bo-Jing made his plan to find Narantsetseg. The next stage of the journey would be much easier for him than it was for her. A hundred leagues of undeveloped wilderness lay between the monastery and the steep ridge that marked the edge of Hunza. No towns, no inns, no roads—nothing but thick pine forests and deep meadows in this unclaimed territory. The monks had directed Naransetseg to simply rid west, keeping the pinnacle of Mt. Baltistan in the middle of her horizon until she reached the snowpack, then cutting southwest into Hunza by way of the Green Pass. Bo-Jing would do the same, but traveling by air, would bypass the many obstacles that his wife likely encountered and also without the risk of losing sight of his landmark. The sky was clear and the moon would be full; Bo-Jing decided to fly at night, expecting to be nearly invisible on his jet black steed.

And so Bo-Jing set out. What an exhilarating night. The snow-capped Mt. Baltistan shone like a beacon in the moonlight and the small lakes below shimmered like dropped coins. Bo-Jing wrapped himself in furs against the cold and urged Tse-Hami onwards. As dawn broke and the peaks of Mt. Baltistan turned pink, Bo-Jing and Tse-Hami glided downwards, seeking the break in the ridge that would be the Green Pass. They found their way, passing over the ridge and into the warmer air of the Hunza Valley. With additional plans buts to seek out a large settlement, Bo-Jing decided that he and his steed should first rest and eat. Rather than land on the flatlands, Bo-Jing identified a pile of boulders atop a steep-sided bluff as a place where he could sleep soundly with little fear of being discovered.

As Tse-Hami circled the identified refuge, seeaking the past landing site, Bo-Jing spotted an enormous, bright red reptilian monster—a dragon! At the same moment, the dragon noticed the uninvited guests and blasted them with a storm of fire. Before Bo-Jing could react, Tse-Hami took evasive action, diving steeply. The flames licked Tse-Hami’s flanks but thanks to the barding gifted him by the King of the East, Tse-Hami suffered no harm. The khimori raised his head and flapped his wings hard, but Bo-Jing urged him into a diving, counter-attack. Bo-Jing leapt off of Tse-Hami and onto the back of the dragon, drawing his sword and driving it into the tender flesh under the dragon’s wing. The dragon rolled slashing out with its claws, striking Tse-Hami as the Khimori climbed back into the sky. Bo-Jing landed heavily on the rocks. Bo-Jing leapt to his feet parrying a series of lashed from the dragon’s tail. Once again, Bo-Jing climbed onto the dragon’s back, running up its spine, and jumping from one side of its back to the other as the dragon rolled one way and the other. He stabbed the dragon between the shoulders and then slid off as the dragon twisted its neck to come at him with jaws wide enough to fully engulf him. Bo-Jing dropped to his knees, then sprang up with his sword above him; the dragon lifted its chin and Bo-Jing’s blade sank through its scales and into its throat; Bo-Jing made a single clean slash and opened an enormous wound, releasing a torrent of blood. The dragon fell to the earth and was still.

Tse-Hami landed and, after confirming that his rider was alive, turned his attention to the long, thick grass. Bo-Jing unsaddled his mount and then rifled through his saddlebags, making a quick uncouth meal of dried yak meat and mare’s milk. He then set upon butchering the dragon.

Its anatomy was different from that of a mammal or bird, but Bo-Jing, relying on half-remembered lore, took the tongue, the heart, and what he thought were the lungs. And then he noticed the sounds of wild animals below him. He saddled Tse-Hami and they flew down to investigate. There were four bears. And they were not friendly. Their growls sounded like speech and when Bo-Jing attempted to command them using one of his magic rings, the bears’ speech took on an obscene and insulting tone. Bo-Jing returned to the top of the bluff. He cut off one of the dragon’s legs and threw it down. The bears descended and began to tear off and devour its flesh.

Bo-Jing spent the next several hours deskinning the dragon, while listening to the sounds of bellowing bear. He listened to them fight over the dragon’s leg and when the bone had been cleaned, the bears began to climb the steep bluff again. The bears were nimble and determined, but it was an arduous climb. Bo-Jing finished his work of flaying and packing the scaly hide, and then took to the sky. He was exhausted and Tse-Hami also need to rest.

Spotting a lone farmhouse, he landed about a mile away, then repacked his burden to obscure Tse-Hami’s wings and the dragon hide under a tarp. They hobbled toward the farmhouse and were met with blank stares. The residents, young but haggard farmers said nothing. Bo-Jing muttered a few words in Hun-Yi and offered them a handful of silver coins. They nodded and showed him to their woodshed. They brought him water for washing and he fell asleep.

He was awakened by the sound of laughing children. “Bird Horse! Bird Horse!”

Tse-Hami, unburdened and uncovered, was lying on the ground, allowing three small children to climb on him, taking turns running their fingers through his mane his tail and his feathering wings. When Bo-Jing emerged from the shed, the children’s mother made of show of horrified anger, shouting and slapping. Father gave Bo-Jing a dark stare. Bo-Jing smiled and produced a gold coin, while saying some friendly words to the children. Bo-Jing’s hosts took the coin, killed a chicken ,and began preparing a delicious meal.

Bo Jing napped, eat heartily, and then slipped all the next day, leaving as the sun set, after a hasty good-bye. He flew westward, looking for the lights of isolated farmsteads to roughly follow the course of a road. When he saw the lights of a larger settlement. He landed, , repacked his burden to conceal Tse-Hemi’s wings and once again wrapped a tarp over the dragon parts, and approached the town on foot.

He received an uneasy welcome. It was the town of Magden, which he had visited with his friends nearly a year ago on their mission to track down and defeat the Master. He remembered the town and the guards at the gate remembered him.

They looked excited at first, and then surprised, even embarrassed as he drew closer. One of them spoke Zhou and asked what Bo-Jing was carrying. He refused to answer them and asked for information about his wife. Some red-robed Guardians of Knowledge were summoned. They demanded to know why Bo-Jing had come and brushed off his questions about his wife. “No, what is the real reason.” In the ensuing bitter exchange of words, the Guardians revealed that they had seen some foreigners a few weeks ago, but “They did not comport themselves in a civilized manner” and had not stayed long. Reading the Guardian’s body language, Bo-Jing surmised that his wife and her companions had taken the south road out of Magden. Preparing to leave, Bo-Jing glared at his interlocutors and informed them that he was telling the truth. “Last year, I came to kill your Master, but I have done that, so I don’t need to do it again.”

He leapt onto Tse-Hemi’s back and galloped away. Without making any friends, he managed to gather enough scraps of information about his wife to know she had, followed his trail from the year before and traveled from Magden to Gilgat. He was met there with open hostility, but just before any weapons came out, a Guardian appeared. His name was Batar and he had encountered Khatun the week before. Seeing her dedication to her husband and based on the rumors about the “”one with a face like the morning sun,” he had offered her his assistance, even though he considered her mission a risky one.

“She said that you had gone to seek the Master’s Palace. And someone had told her that, without the Master’s invitation, there was no way to reach his palace except by way of the Dark Wall. So I told her how to get to the Dark Wall.”

Bo-Jing demanded to know the rumors. “What are people saying?”

“That it was time for the Master to choose a successor. And that you were the one he had chosen.”

“No. I killed the Master.”

Batar collapsed in grief, and the guards once again reached for their swords. But Batar ordered them back.

“So, you are not the Chosen One. The clouds are gathering, and the seal will break. But still there is a woman who loves you and I have likely sent her to her death as she is going to the Dark Wall and among the ones who will meet her, there will not be one whose face is like the morning sun.

“Before you release your wrath on me, allow me to give you the same advice I gave her, I can tell you the way to the Dark Wall. Perhaps you will reach her before she reaches the Wall.”

Bo-Jing relented and heard Batar’s directions: “Go now, if you hope to reach her in time. No reason to wait as you are not welcome in Gilgat. If you survive long enough to remember your time, remember me as the one who helped you when no one else would.”

Saturday, September 2, 2023

Against the Bear People

 Having defeated the Master, and also destroyed the older force that created him, the conquering heroes, spent several weeks relaxing in Hosadas’s palace. His panicked minions, craven confederates, and disabused disciples had fled with as much treasure had fled with as much treasure as they could carry. But this left behind much in the way of rich food and drink and a comfortable setting in which to enjoy them.

They washed their travel-soiled clothing or, even better, exchanged it for new garments, and slept in warm beds. They also debated what relationship they would have with the domain that seemed to be theirs by right of conquest. Indeed, a few of the Master’s former followers had remained, and begging pardon, promised to honor Bangqiu or Bo Jing or even Tetsukichi as their new Master. Salt, despite expressing no desire to rule the lands of Khorosan, was likewise attended by retainers equal to prove their loyalty.

Most of these former attendants to the Master had little explanation for their changed loyalties, except for the evidence that the powers that had once favored the Master clearly favored his conquerors more. Among the toadies and sycophants, the party identified three honest liars—Sahir, a wizard who confessed he’d paid lip service to the Master’s teachings only to gain access to magical knowledge. Nagar Ahmar, a skilled carpenter, had been pressed into service, and by pretending to be a fool, had gain access to storerooms throughout the palace. Finally, Zhak Shi had entered the lands of Khorosan on a private mission of vengeance, having lost his family to the Master’s depredations. All three, for their own reasons, were thankful for the regime change, and eager to help the newcomers reinforce their claim.

So, with the help of these trusted advisers, Bo Jing, Bangqiu, and Salt listened to accounts from the remnants of the Master’s followers who had stayed on at the palace.  It was the soon determined that the farmers—simple folk who had been promised enlightenment through nearly uninterrupted field labor—had the most reliable information to offer. As they had pushed northwards, clearing forest for new rice paddies, they had come into contact with a group of cave-dwellers, primitive people who seemed mainly by hunting for game and forest fruits.  They kept few animals and planted nothing. They had attacked the farmers with fearless savagery. The Master had rallied an army to drive the savages back to their caves, but the northern farms had been deserted. In the ensuing years, an uneasy truce had created a no man’s land between the farms and the northmen’s hunting lands.  The truce was enforced by regular patrols of [Red Robes]. Zhak Shi had participated in these patrols and had learned to respect the savages’ uncanny ways.  He’d found their strange totems in tree hollows and on hanging from branches, he’d seen one of the Master’s best soldiers felled by an arrow from the shadows, but he’d never caught more than a glimpse of the strange denizens of the forest.

They’d occasionally raided the farms, and when they did left no survivors. They did leave tracks.  Clear ones, as if taunting the Master to seek revenge. Zhak Shi had followed the tracks far enough to know they led to the mountains that the Master had claimed as his northern border.  There was a waterfall and in the darkness, Zhak Shi had seen the glow of a fire behind it.

With the Master’s death, the patrols had ceased and the raids were reaching further south and east, toward the more populated half of Khorosan. If the newcomers were serious about protecting its people, maybe it was time to take the fight to the northmen in their lair.

The adventurers agreed, even managing to summon the mercurial Hyamsam to join them.  And so the conquerors from Zhou Dang, together with their newest allies set off to raid the raiders.

Zhak Shi showed them the best way to reach their enemy, avoiding any potential ambush by ignoring the most obvious tracks and instead taking a more circuitous route by traveling west before heading north, and then climbing up into mountains and traveling along a ridge line until they reached the river that descended as the waterfall that marked the savages’s lair.

Behind the waterfall, the party found a large natural cavern and, at the back of it, a narrow tunnel leading deeper into the earth. The tunnel was flanked by crudely-carved stone statues of voluptuous women, both with gaping wide mouths.

Nekhil led the way past the statues and was struck by a small bolt of lightning arcing between the two statues. Non-lethal but painful, the rest of the party stopped in their tracks. The party discovered that inserting a pole into either of the statue’s mouth resulted in a shortening of the pole. At length, Bangqiu and Hyamsam transformed themselves into small birds and tried to fly past the statues.  They, too was struck by lightning, but shook off the pain and flew deeper into the cave.  The passage descended steeply, soon reaching a low point from which two other passages rose back up, with flickering torchlight visible at the top of each of the interesting passages. From one side, the torchlight grew brighter and more steady, and was accompanied by voices. Six huge men emerged at the top of the slope, their torches casting bizarre shadows about the cavern. They were dressed in furs with helmets fashioned from bear skulls.  Spotting the little bird that was Bangqiu, one raised his spear. Bangqiu and Hyamsam dropped to the ground, resuming their human forms and enveloped their would-be attackers in clouds of scalding steam.  The men dropped to the floor, their torches extinguished.  Bangiqu and Hyamsam dashed up the slope and examined their still steaming bodies.  Each carried a leather pouch containing a few polished greenish gray stones.  They returned to their friends with the stones and found that dropping a stone in a statue’s mouth permitted the offeror to pass by without suffering any punishment.

The party explored a labyrinth of tunnels leading up and down, choosing their way carefully to avoid meeting any large groups. When forced into combat, the magicians used their most devastating spells before Bo Jing rushed in to quickly dispatch any survivors. And in this way, they avoided raising any alarm. They were intrigued to find a stout, well-constructed door in an otherwise rough natural cavern. They were especially intrigued to note that it was barred from their side.  But when Bo Jig removed the bar and pushed it open, the door squeaked loudly.  Knowing they had given up the advantage of surprise to whatever horrible thing resided within, they moved away quickly, bypassing a nearby group of women engaged in cooking to follow a narrow twisting passage deeper into the caverns.

Exploring the home of the “bear people” the party found crude murals depicting houses on fire and screaming people being pursued and eaten by snakes, animals, and horned men. Sudden drafts carried pungent, eye-watering smoke.  A shrill discordant piping, like that of a bird, could be faintly heard above the sound of the party’s footsteps, ceasing when everyone stopped to listen.

They wandered into a large cavern, the floor slick with guano and the foul air almost unbreathable.  Choosing another path, they found a short flight of steps carved into the rock. The steps, thickly covered with filth, led into a small forgotten shrine for a single dusty idol. Searching the tiny chamber, they heard voices. A fissure  behind the idol provided a second means of egress. In a room beyond, a group of bear-man warriors sat next to a smoldering fire, passing around small jars and sniffing the contents. They sat with heir backs to the fissure and gave half attention to the wide corridor in front of them.

Hyamsam, using his magic to conceal himself from being seen or heard, climbed through the fissure and into the room.

The party watched the men closely and silently, waiting for any sign that they had detected Hyamsam.

Salt, for her part, watched the way that they had come, and heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Not wanting to risk being caught between two groups of enemies, she  stepped into the guano room and directed a cloud of boiling steam at the approaching figure. The figure, a woman screamed and perished. The sound alerted the bear-men. Bangqiu blasted them with magic missiles and  Bo-Jing charged in with his word, followed by the other warriors.  The bearmen barely had time to stand before they all been cut down.

Salt, fearing that she had overreacted, inspected the body of the woman she had killed and found that she had snaking growing from her head in place of hair. With a mixture of relief and horror, Salt reported to her companions that the caverns could be filled with strange creatures, among whom the bear people were perhaps the least fearsome.  Hyamsam reported that the large corridor led back to the entrance.

After a brief conference, the party agreed that they had been very successful in infiltrating the bearpeople’s lair, having killed several of the warriors without having raised the alarm or even leaving any living witnesses.  They had suffered no casualties themselves, but they were hungry and tired and none wanted to risk finding a place to rest with the caves. Thus, the party heartily agreed that it was time to leave the caves and return to the Master’s palace, feeling all the more secure in claiming it as their own.

Thursday, August 31, 2023

The Lingering Disquiet of the Khatun part 1

In Banua, the Khatun slept poorly. She had given birth to a son, but the boy’s father, her husband, the Khan, was gone.

Khatun Narantsetseg knew why her husband had gone. The brave, noble, and handsome Bo-Jing had called upon his allies, the most stalwart and wise, to join him in a quest to confront the evil “Master” on his own throne in his own palace in the middle of his own strange domain.

What she didn’t know why her husband, brave, noble, and handsome, had not returned.

Her servants and advisers did their best to comfort her. “He will prevail. Have courage, have faith. There is none like him. Brave, noble, and handsome, how could he not prevail in achieving whatever objective he pursued?”

The Khatun, in her soft bed, in her warm palace, slept poorly.

There was a stupa that she had visited with her mother when she was a girl, and used to sleeping soundly on a soft goatskin in a warm yurt. Her mother prayed at the stupa, the elaborate mausoleum of a simple holy man, and the young Narantsetseg had watched all the worry and care lift from her mother’s face.

Narantsetseg made inquiries until she could locate a holy man. Altani, a respected hermit sometimes visited Banua, confirmed for her that the stupa she remembered was real and that its soul-healing properties had been famous for centuries. It was easy to find, being on the road to Blue City, less than a day’s ride from Banua! But, there was a problem. Lately, those who had gone to pray there, did not find peace . . .

Narantseteg ordered Batu, her husband’s baghatur to go with Altani to find out what had cursed the holy stupa and to assist in driving away any evil spirits found therein. Batu, flattered by the important mission, but also wary of what forces could threaten the power of a centuries-old holy place, not only recruited four palace guards to assist him, but also persuaded Bo Jing’s friend Narnuteng that this quest was an opportunity for her to win honor and the favor of the Khatun.

The party set out on a chilly, bright morning and reached the stupa at midday. The warriors approached while Altani lingered near the road. As they got closer Batu and his companions were struck down by one curse or another. One lost his sight, another his hearing, while Batu himself was overwhelmed by visions of flames on the edges of his vision. Altani began chanting and, with help from Narnutang, gathered the men to his side and led them away from the stupa to a safe place in the hills. He prayed over them and led them into sleep. The next morning Altani brought the warriors back to the stupa, chanting and burning incense, promising them that the only way to completely break the curse is to face it with courage.

Trusting Altani’s guidance, Batu led his companions toward the circular, columned building capped by a squat dome. Cautious at first, their strides became more purposeful as they drew closer; Altanu and Narnuteng followed close behind them.

The party walked around the stupa, and found it virtually identical The platform, about four feet off the ground, could be reached by the steps, crumbling in places, but generally solid, that ran all the way around it. The platform itself was empty of anything but the columns that supported the dome.

The party clambered up and walked around the platform. Over the centuries, windblown sand had gathered in seams between the paving stones. Except in one section, roughly 10 foot square, next to one of the columns, which, unlike any of the others, was marked with a triangle. The seam around this section had not filled with sand. One of Batu’s men found he could slide his sword into the crack all the way to the hilt. There was something more to the stupa, something beneath it; Narnuteng and Batu agreed that they must be standing on an entrance of some kind.

They spent several hours on the stupa. They felt dizzy, sometimes to the point of nausea. Battu’s men urged each other to “go find some fresh water if you’re feeling so bad” but no one budged. Batu dragged his sword over the stones throwing sparks and cursing. He tried pushing the column marked with the triangle, then pulling it, lifting it up, and pushing it down. He jumped up and down on the platform.

Narnuteng had a suggestion. “I wonder if you could turn the entire column.”

Batu thought that was a stupid idea and to prove how to stupid it was, he tried it. He planted his feet on either side of the marked column, squatted, wrapped his arms around the column and shifted his weight first to one side in an attempt to make the column turn. And it did. Almost imperceptibly at first, but then with a low rumbling far beneath them, with surprising speed and force, a full 90 degrees. The outlined section of the floor trembled and then began to sink, dropping ten beneath below its former level, revealing a pit whose bottom could not be seen. As the sunlight broke into a darkness undisturbed for centuries, hundreds of spiders scurried into the shadows.

The party descended, lowering a rope so that they might Narnuteng might climb into the pit. Even with a brightly burning lantern, the bottom of the pit was shrouded in darkness, deeper than the length of their rope. However several dozen feet down, a tunnel in the side of the pit, seemed to allow access to the stupa’s depths by more gradual descent. One of Batu’s men stayed at the top to secure the rope and guard the entrance. The others climbed down the rope one-by-one to the side tunnel. They lit a second lantern and walked down a narrow tunnel, sending spiders scurrying before them. They reached a domed room that seemed to demand further examination. But even after wiping away centuries of dust, the most notable feature was an uneven brick in the ceiling of the dome, sticking out several inches from its fellows. Climbing on Batu’s shoulders, Narnuteng was able to reach the brick and pull it free—whereupon the ceiling began to collapse. Batu’s men ran for cover, while Batu and Narnuteng instinctively dropped to the floor and ducked their heads, suffering a few stray bricks bouncing g off their armor. Altani, seemingly favored by holy powers, stood unscathed, as the dust, suddenly illuminated by sunlight swirled around them. He chanted a prayer of thanksgiving, rallying the battered warriors and they continued their exploration down a flight of stone stairs.

Another domed room. This one impassable due to thick spider webs. Narnuteng doused the webs nearest her with lamp oil and then , using a strand of rope as a wick took fire from her lamp and set it to the webs. Hot flames eagerly devoured the thick, dusty webs , creating thick clouds of dark smoke. The air became unbreathable and the party dashed back up the stairs to the domed room with the new opening to the sky and fresh air.

The party collapsed to rest and catch their breath, but as the smoke cleared, they heard the sound of a rapid click-click scuttling and tapping on the stairs. Batu ordered his men to flank the entryway with their spears ready while he and Narnuteng readied their bows. As soon as the dark, hairy form of the first spider appeared at the top of the stairs, Batu and Narnuteng loosed their arrows. One arrow bounced off its thick shell and the other did little to slow its charge. Khuyag, one of Batu’s men gored it with his spear. It shook violently in its death throes, nearly pulling the spear out of its wielders strng grip. More spiders behind the first ran up the walls and across the ceiling. Batu and Narnuteng drew their swords. Batu’s men pointed their spears toward the ceiling, driving the spiders onward until they dropped on Batu and Narnuteng, who trusted their fine armor to protect them from the spiders’ venomous fangs. The spiders’ size and strength, comparable to wolves, was nearly enough to overcome the powerful warriors but the Batu and Narnuteng each lent their strength to other when it was needed most and so kept solid footing and with courage and fine blades were able to defend themselves from the disgusting vermin. Batu’s men took advantage of their long spears and following their brave order’s advice, skewered the spider so that one by one they could be dispatched by a sword.

And yet, whether by instinct or chance, the spiders deployed a similar tactic. One more spider, smaller than the others, was the last up the stairs. Khuyag, distracted by the melee and lacking the metal armor that protected his master, was an easy target. He screamed in pain as the spider climbed up his back and sunk its teeth into his shoulder. His comrades came to his aid. One stabbed the spider with a dagger while another took hold of its legs and slammed it against the wall, cracking its shell and sending it running.

As the last of the larges spiders lay quivering and dying, Khuyag slumped to the floor. Altai rushed to his aid, applying a poultice and chanting a prayer that divine favor be shown to this brave man. Khuyag slowly stood, smiling weakly. The humble Altai acknowledged he had no right to demand a miracle and none had been granted. If they gave up their mission and brought him back to Banua, they might save his life.

If re-telling this story, Khuyag’s favorite moment was this one. “Without wasting a breath, my master gave the order, ‘Now, we go.’”

And so, Khuyag’s life was saved, but Narantsetseg’s heart continued to suffer. She summoned Batu to her audience chamber and demanded his thoughts on why master had tarried for so long. When he couldn’t find words to give her peace, she demanded that he resume his quest to make the stupa safe for her to visit.

In Banua, they had met a wise woman who had sold them an antidote for Khuyag. After a few days of rest, he was strong and hale. During those days, Batu drew additional gold from his master’s treasury and purchased bows for each of his men. Altani performed the appropriate rituals and they returned to the stupa.

Rather than climb on to the stupa platform and descend into the pit, Batu and Narnuteng agreed to enter by way of the collapsed ceiling they had “made” during their last visit. They also decided that having one more warrior with them was more important than leaving a guard. So they tied a rope securely to one of the pillars and each made the relatively easy entrance into the collapsed dome room. They passed through there into the room of burnt webs and, finding no evidence of new arach-tivity, pressed onward and again, downward by way of another pit.

This pit was lined with rungs making descent easier. Again, there was a side tunnel, though this one was sealed by a metal door. The door, with subtle manipulation by Narnuteng, was opened; the round tunnel behind it led to another domed room, this one with five statutes, and a single ancient rune on the floor which Altani translated to mean “pray.” Batu stepped onto the rune and pronounced his prayer for the Khatun—and immediately vanished. The others followed suit and immediately joined Batu. . .

They found themselves standing at the bottom of another pit—one that opened moments after they had pronounced their prayers. . . the skeleton of the exalted shaman was there—minus the head. The beatific skull was rolling on the floor, among a throng of rat-sized spiders.

Altani began to sing in a low sonorous tone and the walls of burial chamber resonated with his chanting. Shaking off the horror of what they were witnessing, Batu and his followers along with Narnutang attacked the spiders, burning them, slicing them, smashing them, driving them back into the cracks in the wall. Not all of the spiders gave up their prize so easily. The largest and most vicious charged at their attackers, climbing up their legs to drop into the top of a man’s boots or finding a open space in his armor to drive venomous fangs through his clothing. Batu’s soldier Gan fought through the pain, using the opportunity of a spider pumping poison into his forearm to seize its head and crush it in his fist.

When the spiders had been killed or driven away, Altani replaced the skull to it s proper resting place and chanted a prayer of rest. The walls resonated in a lower, comforting register and all breathed a sigh of deep relief.

Altani tended to the wounds of the warriors, applying poultices to the discolored skin. Except Gan. Knowing he was mortally wounded, he refused any treatment and pledged to remain in the tomb, praying that his spirit would stand guard over the holy man for 99 years.

Batu mourned the loss of his companion and released him from service. The rest of the party returned to the surface and to Banua.

Batu shared the news of his success with Narantsetseg, with Altani affirming that every word was true and recording it exactly as it has been written here.

The next day, Naransetseg rose early, and choosing only a small retinue to accompany her, went to visit the stupa.

She remained the whole day and her spirits were settled. Those who prayed with her also experienced the deep serenity for which the stupa had long been famous. But as night approached, Narantsetseg announced that she would spend the night there. She commanded Batu and his men to return to Banua, explaining she only wanted the company of one woman and one holy man, that being Narnutang and Altani. Before Batu departed, Narantsetseg handed him a letter, commanding him not to open it until the new moon.