Ilya may have said something. He must have, but Ilya himself only heard it has a kind of echoing buzzing in his skull. Maybe “I’ll be right back”, or something … or something … or something …
His vision blurred again.
No.
FOCUS.
… on following the voice.
He trudged forwards, blinking rapidly, as if the music were grit in his eyes. He shook himself.
What are you doing? You are Ilya. Your sister is dead. A voice is calling you. It is likely dangerous. But it can’t control you. Only Makuta could do that, and he is not here. Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus… Focus. Focus.
He had covered more distance than he at first intended, now nearly upon the spot from where the voice called.
“Who, indeed.” Kovis muttered, turning his eyes upon Katau. “Not many people here have as good of ears as I do, friend, but you’d be better off keeping those comments to yourself in the future. The temperaments of the intoxicated don’t take kindly to ridicule.”
The only other person there was the barkeep, who was looking ruefully at the muscular fellow, as Kovis had just brought a large crowd of happy customers and then dismissed all of them. He shook his head glumly and went back to cleaning his cups.
“Ilya. Ilya.” The voice continued.
By now Ilya could practically touch the treeline, and the few stray beams which penetrated it showed something shimmering inside. It was a hand, the owner hiding in the gloom, and in the hand was a large orange… Something. Something resplendent.
It could be a jagged gem, or perhaps some solidified honey, but it sparkled in the light and was extended from the darkness. Would he approach?
“I can imagine.” Katau replied, slightly irriated, but resisted the urge to say more. “Anyways, I haven’t been around here in quite some time, so are things going in the city?” The blacksmith then takes another look around at the jungle Okotans’ festival.
Who to talk to, who to talk to. They should be sober enough to speak, but druk enough to let anything confidential slip…
Cheshie thought before,
Cheshie blinked.
Then she blinked again.
I mean, I could go talk to him, but he’s probably too important, how could someone who looks like that not be important, but remember, we said keep a low profile so probably don’t talk to the super buff important guy, plus, he seems like an arrogant jerk, he’s probably an arrogant jerk, so don’t talk to him, but he probably knows stuff, so do talk to him, but only at some point, so not right now, so just play it cool right now.
Cheshie pointedly ignored Kovis as she strode past the bar, taking a seat by the nearest group of revelers, ordering the cheapest low alcohol drink she could, and listened to nearby conversation.
“Are they?” Kovis raised an eyebrow at the peculiar sentence. “Well, I suppose they are. They certainly are…”
He tensed for a moment, as if he would hurl the cup into outer space, but sighed bitterly and returned it to the counter. “They certainly are full of themselves. Full of themselves and whatever they can stuff into their eager stomachs, guzzling until they nearly burst. And they do it again and again and again, thinking they can live carefree indefinitely…”
He sniffed at the cup. “Don’t know how anyone can stand this stuff.”
“Can you believe this guy?” The closest one jabbed a thumb at the bar.
“That’s a girl, you idiot!” The furthest one said, trying to reach across the middle one to slap the other.
The middle one looked like he was about ready to die with these two on either side. “Uhh, I think he’s referring to Kovis…”
“Heck yeah!” The first lifted his cup to the sky and then guzzled the entire thing. “Kovis is hic the best! I hear he stabbed a Hunter in the throat and saved the village and stuff, he’s superrrr cool!”
“Shut up, you idiot!” The second growled. “Kovis isn’t THAT great! He’s a jerk! He’s never accepted any of my ideas, or studies, or designs… I have blueprints! I’ve spent years on these and he’s always got ‘more important things’ like orchestrating these stupid events!” He angrily tossed his wooden mug on the ground.
“Morrus, you’d better not have any more.” The middle one said, addressing the second. “Every time something like this happens and you drink, you end up in a bad way.”
“Yes.” The second one - Morrus, apparently - growled out his apparent agreement. “Because there’s always Kovis celebrations and Kovis feasts and Kovis this and Kovis that… Why doesn’t he make like a tree and leaf for good? The world would be better off with a lot less Kovis and a bit more honest people instead.”
So saying, Morrus slid off his seat and marched slowly away, wrapping his arms around himself and shooting murderous glares at every instance of plant life.
Cheshie quietly sipped her drink, listening to the conversation.
Her ears perked up at the middle Okotan’s tirade, making a mental note of this Morrus fellow’s name. She’d have to follow that lead later.
And I knew Kovis was jerk, Cheshie thought smugly, though only for a moment. At least according to this random disgruntled probably inebriated inventor I just met.
“So, when we finally lightin’ that sucker. Haven’t we waited long enough?” Cheshie asked the two remaining drinkers, leaning forward as she stuck a thumb behind her in the general direction of the pyre.
She glanced backward in a gesture which her company may have interpreted as looking back at the pyre, while in reality she was trying to catch the general direction Morrus had stalked off in.
The first one leaned on the bar casually, eager for any form of conversation, while the formerly middle Okotan started and instantly became awkward, shooting worried glances at his intoxicated friend, clearly worried he might - and likely would - make a fool of himself.
“New here, stranger?” The Okotan grinned. “Well feast your eyes upon the traitor, that odious Maltus, the fire Okotan who deliberately sold his brothers of Okoto to the Hunters. Y’see, this piece of trash,” The Okotan jabbed a finger at the effigy, “I know for a fact he sold these people off to be slaves, or dinner, or who knows what else - and he’s disappeared some years ago, and now we burn him here in effigy. Mostly it’s just a reason to have a blast!”
“The effigy’s been stuffed with minimal amounts of colored gunpowder.” The second Okotan interrupted, much to the dismay of the first. “When the fire gets high enough, he explodes in a colorful cloud of smoke. We’ve had this celebration for over five years now, but this is the first time Kovis has ever approved of the ceremony.”
“And high time too!” The first one chimed in again. “Like I said before 'n stuff, I don’t know if you were listening, Kovis killed a full-grown Hunter with his bare hands right as it charged the capital! They say he stuck a knife in his throat with such precision he tore the head clean off!”
“Please, not again…” The second moaned, clutching his stomach. “I was hoping to get some pretzel horns after this…”
“It was all like, Spleeurgh!!” The first motioned with his hands as to how the Hunter’s neck must surely have dissolved from the sheer might of Kovis’ awesomeness. “And there was blood and stuff, and it was super cool! But look at him.” He flopped his hand aside his mouth and continued to talk at normal volume, leaning uncomfortably close. “Ever since the last year the dude’s just not himself. Hasn’t attended any other parties or festivities an only came here when the chief twisted his arm… It’s just-”
“Go meet me at the pretzel horn stand, Medres.” The second Okotan said, ushering his friend off with a shove. The First Okotan shot him a rude glance and stumbled off to the pretzel horn stand. “Guy’s a poet and a talented writer, but if he gets drunk he drops all his poetic skill and turns into a jovial lump. He’s just about as gloomy as Morrus is, if I’m being honest.”
“But you’re not.” His eyes turned towards Cheshie’s. “You’re armed fairly to the teeth for your appearance in this casual festival, and you came on the road from the capital city. You don’t know what’s happening, or you’d know the traitor gets lit at dusk. And you approach the drunkest Okotan to find out more.”
“Who are you?”
During the rambling, Cheshie had plenty more opportunities to look back at the fixture. If she capitalized on them, she could see Morrus glumly pace up to the shadow of a building and plant himself on the ground, resting against the wall, making pouty faces at the whole world.
At that, Katau took a quick glance at the drunken Okotans. He shook his head in disgust, and then his yellow eyes flicked back to meet Kovis’.
“I’ll have to agree with you on that one.” the blacksmith remarked, then continued. “They certainly don’t look so good. Is it usually like this in the Jungle capital?”
Or maybe he’d been in full possession of them this entire time, because he felt no motivation to stop what he was doing. He glanced behind him, at the festivities below, and then turned to face the gem and the figure in its possession.
Thoughts were gone. Leadership meant nothing, flowers or steel or whatever dumb luck had gotten him this far. He was only Ilya. He took another step forward. His voice was not accusatory or authoritative, nor was it submissive and shy. It was more conversational, and quiet.
“More often that I can tolerate.” Kovis sighed. “They keep praising me for whatever deeds I do by holding festivals, but they don’t seem to care when I tell them they should be the ones stabbing Hunters in the throat and saving the entire village. The dark completely surrounds this capital; it’s the only one encased b forest. But instead of train to prepare themselves against the inevitable, they have drunken noise-generating get-togethers.”
He sighed again. “If only I could get away from this place for a little while…”
“Hmmmmm.” Katau thought, his hand rubbing against his chin. “Maybe they think their inebriated rants can scare the Hunters off.” the blacksmith joked, though he could definitely see why Kovis despised the group. Katau was about to reply with more derision when Kovis decided to continue, if only for one more statement.
The fire Okotan started at that. Even though Ilya had stressed that their mission was to be kept as secret as possible, Katau thought that this downtrodden jungle Okotan could potentially be helpful. As conspicuously as he could, he looked Kovis directly in the eye and whispered,
“I might know a few friends who help you with that, can you keep a secret?”
Palios delivered a slap to the back of Katua’s neck, “What my friend here means is that we’ve recently— I should just show you.” Palios glared at the fire Okotan as he retrieved the Hunter’s staff. “We encountered a Hunter at the edge of the jungle— Managed to scare it off…” Palios paused for dramatic effect, “But not before it dropped this.” Palios pointed the staff at Korvis in offering. “We were wondering if you know anything about it.”
“What was that for?” Katau whispered intensely. The blacksmith resisted the urge to yell at the jungle Okotan, and grunted in annoyance instead. Palios had taken out the Hunter staff that he had retrieved, and so he focused his attention on that, waiting for Kovis’ response.
Cheshie listened to the Okotan speak, trying to keep a laidback presence and not seem like she was paying too much attention to what he was saying.
Interesting…
Drat. Well, this isn’t the end of the world, just don’t say you were sent by Makuta, and don’t say what you’re investigating. Play it cool.
“Just an adventurer of sorts,”
We really should have talked about a good cover story for us all to use. Should have thought of that sooner Chesh. Do better.
“Me and some others are surveying trade routes around the jungle, and from my experience, being armed is usually a good idea when anywhere near the Dark,” She replied calmly.
“Though it sounds like this Kovis character has already taken care of any Hunters we might have come across. Must be some fighter.” She ended with a slight grin and dry chuckle, coming across more amused than impressed, attempting to steer the conversation toward Kovis and away from her business. She really hoped it would work.
Jaawu had followed Cheshie, but had fallen behind a bit. When he did catch up, he took a seat next to her at the bar, about when the Okotan was questioning her. He heard the conversation, and thought it might be convenient if he didn’t make his connection to her obvious. He ordered a drink, not putting too much effort in to making sure it was low alcohol content, and listened.
Henan carved. And carved. And carved.
It helped. Slightly. But his frustration rose like a sandstorm. WHO AM I KIDDING?! He screamed internally,his hands becoming a vice upon his chisel. MY LIFE DOESN’T MATTER TO ANYONE! It’s ok Henan,it’s not like FREAKING EVERYONE HATES YOU AND YOUR EXISTENCE! His speed of his chiseling hand increased. I’M SICK AND TIRED OF THE MUCK AND THESE PEOPLE AND EVERYTHING!! He smashes his chisel into the carving.
In order to grasp the gem, Ilya was forced to step into the shadow of the trees. The moment he placed his hand on it, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the figure was revealed.
His horns were little more than rounded bumps on his head, having not yet grown out. His reflective eyes shimmered almost as brightly as the stone he held, a rough block of amber carved into the crudest point possible. It was, without any doubt, the Hunter from before, with little difference between his prior appearance save for his missing staff, and the base of his mask’s eye holes were discernably moist.
Kovis looked in some confusion between the pair and the staff that had appeared, his thoughts trying to discern how his venting over society had lead to him being offered this stick to inspect. But in usual Kovis fashion, he shrugged complacently and took the staff to inspect.
“Mighty nice piece of work,” He mused, “Although it looks a little thick in diameter. Too uniform to be an effective clubbing tool. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the height makes it a walking stick for your run-of-the-mill Okotan. Say, what’s this?”
He jammed his face almost directly into the little carving filled with sap. “Well that’s peculiar. Most Hunters aren’t exactly artists, but none of them would be so crude with an engraving. My guess is it nicked it from a traveler it killed, and the size of your party spooked him off so fast he left it in his flight.”
He handed the staff back over. “Sorry. My expertise is more with fighting Hunters than it is with learning their culture. Although right now I have bigger things to worry about.”
There was a twitch in the Okotan’s eyebrow, but he otherwise relented.
“Kovis is the greatest hero this region has ever seen, and that’s not an exaggeration.” He said. “Most of the folks around here look for something or someone to idolize, and Kovis is perfect in nearly every way. However, he’s been depressed lately. None of the Okotans actually listen to anything he has to say. Whenever he’s been seen by himself he’s in a slump.”
The Okotan suddenly noticed Kovis was bending over a staff and commenting on length about it to a pair of well-equipped Okotans… Cheshie was given a sidelong glare of suspicion.
Henan groaned. What am i gonna do? Can’t go back… I mean,i could,but being in the borders isn’t going to be any more enjoyable. Henan looked at the trees. Heh. I remember when i was so weirded by a tree. Now all i can think about is the muck and the grime and how i’m going to diiieeeeee… He got up. Well,i guess i should apologize to Illya. He starts looking around for Illya. @Winger