Turn 88

    Others of the crowd hang around for a bit, some of them asking questions, most of which are turned aside by Hiro's taciturn countenance. Some of the guards display a practical curiosity, wanting to see a particular move, others are interested in the cultures that produced ways of fighting so different from each other and from that practiced by the Rigolians, and nearly all of them want a closer look at the strangers' weapons.
    His good cheer more or less restored, Ibn Fadil is happy to answer questions, in his best self-deprecating manner: "You may have noticed, friends, that I am rather short ..." He has a few comments about the origins of differing styles, such as, "Zakhara tends to be very hot, which discourages the use of armor except among those who enjoy heat-stroke ..." He knows a bit about Kara-Tur, as well (generally and from talking to Pham), not to mention the weird mix that could be called the Spelljamming culture.
    If anyone asks him about his own training (as they probably will), his apparently careless answers will make it fairly clear that he started with private tutors. He seems blithely oblivious to any effect this revelation of past wealth and/or noble status may have on these rank-conscious people. All his training after he left home (he seems to claim without actually lying about it) was informal, like these practice bouts with Hiro. "Making it up as I go along, you know ..."
    Mostly, they seem intrigued; on the whole it looks as if at least some of the natives are growing comfortable with the idea their visitors represent.
    That evening after supper the visitors gather in their chamber to discuss plans and hear what their captain has to tell them.
    "Well, it wasn't easy but I got a few words out of His Lordship about what's been going on. They've had this sort of thing before, and they don't seem to suspect us of anything. I don't know that this is anything we want to get involved in, to be honest, although," he looks as Alais, "he did seem to be suggesting a few times that given our mighty magical resources, if we should stumble across anything they'd be happy to hear it.
    "In the meantime, it looks as if they're determined to keep things as normal as they can. The blacksmiths' banquet is tomorrow night, some of us ought to put in an appearance. After that," he spreads his hands questioningly, "I really don't know. We seem to be making progress, and it seems that the company can do business here, even if the people are a little... odd. But we haven't really discussed things since we landed, so I thought it might be a good idea to talk about it."
    Diffidently, ibn Fadil says, "I think, sir, that we should angle for an introduction to the High King. Our presence here has political implications that no one is likely to overlook, and opening relations with him should quiet any concerns about that." He wonders, looking around the table, whether any of his crewmates understood that. "I think I mentioned," he amplifies, "that according to rumor, Victor & Sons seems to actually be arming some back-country lordling?"
    Val nods. "That does seem to be the case, and I expect we'll get that introduction. Tesfaye can't exactly keep us a secret, but he'll play things to his own advantage as far as he can. I'm pretty sure one of the ships that's gone out in the past few days was headed for the capital, with any luck it won't be too long getting back." He looks at the others to see if they have anything to add....
    "Ibn Fadil, would you go out to the ship and let Nyala and Inez know, and see if they have anything to add? I hate to leave them out of this, but it might look odd if all of us went out there. Only one, they'll think up their own explanation." He grimaces in some distaste.
    The Zakharan stifles an recurrence of the anger that so nearly got him in trouble before, and just nods.
    The night is very quiet. The guard at the castle does ask where he's going, but appears satisfied with the half-elf's terse reply. There are lights aboard ship; another bored guard nods a greeting.

* * *

    Alais heads over to the temple to investigates the remains. It takes some fast talking to get access, as funeral preparations are underway in the temple and the high priest is dubious about this entire idea, but between Alais' status as a wizard and the archivist's vouching for him, he is eventually permitted into the main building.
    It's a large, open space, heavily decorated in dark wooden carvings and barely lit by occasional candles, the whole of it evoking the nature gods the Rigolians revere. The bodies are laid out on biers before an altar depicting a wolf, and covered by a red cloth. Two priests hover nervously as Alais goes about his tests, preparing himself for a long night.
    The bodies are not currently under any discernable enchantment. By dawn the Spectrometry spell turns up some results, however--there are very faint metallic traces in many of the wounds. Copper, silver, bronze, iron, and more.
    

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