9th day of the 10th moon in the year 4512 of the Noruz reckoning, morning.
Sorkin is fuming out of his ears about getting fleeced by those children. “I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for you meddling kids,” he mutters to himself. He asks Jongo if Enril is savvy to his “trade secret.” Jongo vouches for Enril, so Sorkin creates the image of the owl carving using Phantasmal Force. Corvis confirms the likelihood that it is an elven totem. He doesn’t recognize it, but it is similar in style to the kinds of totems carved by elven tribes in this area. Corvis is disturbed that the tribe he was with wasn’t the only one recently eradicated.
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25th day of the 9th moon in the year 4512 of the Noruz reckoning.
Sorkin spends some time talking with Jongo about the map and the artifacts. He probes him about the remaining info he might know and discovered over the years, such as who has he learned about that died, who their ancestors are and what items he’s figured out were lost and the best descriptions he has of them. Jongo says he’ll share what he knows. More information is likely to be found in Sob-Rooz. Jongo hasn’t left Aval Kingdom in the past 10 years and thinks he’s not up for more long journeys. Sorkin also asks Jongo if the antennae or eyes of Claacos are useful for, “asting-kay ells-spay”. Jongo replies, “Hm, I guess I never thought about it. I don’t know if they’re good for anything.” Sorkin decides to keep the parts. He hangs the eyes to dry them by a fire and make some Claacos eye jerky.
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24th day of the 9th moon in the year 4512 of the Noruz reckoning, late morning.
After breaking camp and marching for a few hours, Corvis’s sharp hearing picks up the telltale chitter of Claacos nearby. It’s coming from the woods beyond the front left of the wagon. He snaps into action. From his position on the left side of the caravan, he draws and readies an arrow, hurries to stand by the draft animals, and scans the horizon. “Ready yourselves; I hear something,” he says in a calm but urgent voice. Corvis scans for numbers and distance in the front left direction. He tries to figure out if they could pass by undetected if possible. If not, he tries to see if they could get a couple good volleys in before they are forced into close quarter combat. Relana and Dorvian ready their bows as well. Sorkin readies his daggers.
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23rd day of the 9th moon in the year 4512 of the Noruz reckoning, morning.
The morning after Ringo’s Star’s last performance is another crisp cool autumn day. This far north, the days are rapidly cooling, but the weather can still be unpredictable. The party is in the fortified town of Alabash. Alabash sits at the crossroads east of Kahnul. The east road, along which the party arrived last night, leads to Aval City. South connects to the famous Lighthouse of Kahnul (2-3 days), while southeast joins the south coastal road to Jiroft (~15 days). Kahnul is only a day or two along the west road.
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1st day of the 9th moon in the year 4512 of the Noruz reckoning, dusk.
As the sun finishes setting, Relana and Corvis continue to withdraw from their confrontation with Flavio the Flutist. Corvis, gravely wounded, leans heavily on Relana’s small frame as the adrenaline that drove him through the fight fades. They make slow progress. Relana glances around increasingly desperately for someplace that might be able … and willing … to offer assistance. The pair find themselves in a low-end artisans district. Among the shops, crockery, leather goods, chitin products, a small shrine is housed adjacent to a novelty shop selling gaudy jewelry and other trinkets. Relana, not familiar with the iconography, guesses the shrine honors some kind of goddess of artisans. It looks tidy and recently tended. Corvis groans increasingly loudly with each step.
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1st day of the 9th moon in the year 4512 of the Noruz reckoning, sunset.
The sun is rapidly setting on this refreshingly cool autumn day. Relana has just finished playing her lute for the day in this square that has been her stage for the past two months. She is packing up to return to her boarding house. Corvis is sitting on the ground leaning against a building at the south entrance to the square looking feeble and nondescript. Four men enter the square beside him. One carries a flute tucked into his pack. He mutters, “That’s the one, you two head around and cut her off at the next intersection. We’ll tail her from behind.” While his two henchmen jog off to the west exit of the square, the flutist absentmindedly tosses a few coppers in front of Corvis and declares quietly, “Today’s your last show.”
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