Once again it is time to prowl the shadowy streets of Myrrhn with Ragnar and his pack.
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Missed last week’s post? here it is!
Sildus joined us without ceremony as we crossed the ancient stone bridge onto the isle of pillars. He simply appeared out of one of Myrrhns many alleys, letting us see him before crossing the street to join us. Dressed in grey, black, and brown leathers with a small hood hanging back past his shoulders he could have almost passed for a traveler. Certainly he did not stand out next to any of us, we were armed and armoured, which does attract some attention in Myrrhn.
I nodded to him and made introductions, then casually explained what I had learned.
“But what would the Devout want with Sapphire, or Madame Glorianna for that matter?” asked Sildus.
“I’m not certain yet,” I said. “They may have killed Sapphire simply to make it look like you killed Bjorn, which would bring The Guild into conflict with my people. Perhaps the want to weaken the city for an attack, or maybe they want to take advantage of the chaos. I just don’t know.”
“The plan does seem to be unusually subtle for the Devout,” said Git. “We are discussing the same group that actually managed to get Dragmaar, the Verdant Court, the Nordan Confederation, and the Thraxian Empire to ally against them.”
“Not to mention ten other nations,” added Renoit. “Including my beloved Loragons.”
“They’ve been humbled,” I said. “Even fanatics can find pragmatism in the face of extinction sometimes. Besides, that the Devout are behind this is only a guess. We do know that the priest of Kamesin Greeneyes is a common link however. We need to find out what he knows.”
The bridge to Isle of Pillars was one of the oldest structures in Myrrhn, far older than most of the buildings in Old Myrrhn, strange as that may sound. It was thin and delicate looking, made of fitted stone and covered by a strange ivy that did not eat away the rock anchoring it. Historians say that the bridge was built by the Aven in the age of legends. It contributed to the feeling that Myrrhn was eternal, Empires came and went, but the city just grew and changed keepers.
As the religious centre of the city, the only place, in fact, that one could build a temple or shrine to any religion, the Isle of Pillars was a chaotic jumble of architecture and culture. Monolithic temples to the Sun Deity of Caemoulia and the Seven Powers of Thrax stood in stark contrast to simple shrines the gods of lesser nations or simpler faiths. I was not familiar with many of the faiths represented in the crowds. I did not visit Pillars very often. Not many Nordan do.
A reliable informant, Murith’s, not mine, had given us directions to the temple of Kamesin Greeneyes and informed us of the priest’s schedule. We made our way as directly and subtly as we could.
The Temple of Kamesin Greeneyes was an enormous hide tent, the kind that a truly successful Sirutiran Warlord would reside in. The entrance flap was open, but two Sword-Brides flanked it. As we approached I made eyes at Git and Sildus who both melted into the crowd.
With Murith and Renoit flanking me, I marched directly to the entrance, stopping when I was within weapon’s reach of the Sword Brides who were now measuring my every move.
“I am Ragnar Grimfang, Twiceborn, known in deed and song,” I said. “I am here to see speak with Priest Madrinpo.”
One Sword Bride, hand on the hilt of one of her Kiyaris, leaned into the the tent and spoke a few words in what I assumed was Sirutiran. A gravely voice answered. The Sword Bride turned to me.
“We have sent for him,” she said, looking at me directly in the aye. “You must wait for him here.”
We waited. The Sword Brides stood resolutely. A woman passed into the tent. A man passed out out. Time stretched into minutes. Murith and I shifted uncomfortable on our feet, while Renoit stood as still as the Sword Brides.
After some time Git appeared at the end of the street. He nodded to me. I nearly smiled, before turning back to the Sword Brides.
“I am out of time,” I said. “Please convey my apologies to Priest Madrinpo when you find him. He will know how to contact me.”
Once we were out of sight, Git joined us, leading us to a lovely fountain dedicated to Saint Chloe of Archaea, all crystal, and silver with elegant waterflows. There, sitting on one of the benches was a grinning Sildus with a worried looking man beside him. I smiled. Sildus and Git had been waiting to grab anyone who seemed to be fleeing: the worried looking man was our priest.
“It worked,” said Murith.
“It was a good plan,” I said. “They always run if you let them.”
I looked around. Sildus had chosen the fountain well. It was loud enough that eavesdropping would be difficult, and the bench he sat on was hidden from view on three sides. I turned to the priest.
“Priest Madrinpo, I am here on behalf of Sapphire and Crimson Wind,” I said. The images of two bodies flashed through my mind. “I hope you can explain a few things to me.”