Slime Salad

Hyne stands nearby, just short of the Pelor monk's chanting ritual. He refrains from interrupting him or his audience while it is going on.

Hyne gets just close enough to hear the Poet's words

"...And the 10th rabbit, lo, lifted her nose to the wind
and smelled not the dire-otter, so her going was halted,
as that of the man who has forgotten the falling of his sand..."

He has a pleasant voice, warm with a wide range.

"..teeth-and tongue, and and one becomes a part of the other,
and the 9th rabbit said to her brood, not one hair of your backs
can escape this same fate..."

None of the verses rhyme or have any obvious syllable structure, but he still sings them like they are a song.

"..the god of rabbits fell back then, fearing to be seen,
because what to a god of foxes is a god of rabbits..."

It becomes apparent that most of the people near the poet aren't actually listening to him, they have just taken places on the steps of the star-shield-dome temple because it affords a decent view of the funerary proceedings in front of the nearby Pelorian temple.

"...and stops... and starts... and stops... and starts,
but the serpent is not fooled, and the 9th rabbit is also
separated from this plane..."

Only a few of the smaller children really seem to be focusing their attention on the poet, as if mesmerized by the tone of his voice.

A tiny head pops out of the pouch on the poet's chest. It is a baby Kobold. It spits a small bone onto the steps, and begins to gnaw on the poety's scruffy beard.

Without interrupting the flow of his story-song, the poet pulls a chicken leg from a pocket in his robe, and places it into the open mouth of the tiny Kobold, which then vanishes happily back into the pouch.

"...days morning the loss of their mother.
The fox watched, but ate them not,
because it was satisfied, wanting not for hunger or sport..."

The other rabbits in the story slowly meet their deaths in various ways.

Around the time when the Poet starts in on how the 4th rabbit despaired that the 5th rabbits humility had not saved it, Hyne notices something out of the corner of his eye.

Someone standing on the boardwalk is watching intently... not watching the funeral, not watching the poet, watching Hyne.

The glimpse of being watched does not go unnoticed. He kneels down in front of the Pelor monk and declares before the monk can finish his story, "I think I understand how it goes for the rest of the young hares."

He allows a brief pause, and asks, "Do you have a moment? I was told you know about some interesting places."

The Poet raises his hand in a "Wait" gesture, indicating he heard and understood Hyne, but he does not cease his recitation.

"... and the 4th rabbit, lived a thousand years,
always fearing each next moment, and her fur grew long like vines
and brambles, choking the descendants of otter and fox..."

He seems determined to finish off all the rabbits and not be rushed.

The person who had been watching Hyne seems to realize that she may have been spotted. She suddenly turns her back and switches to staring at the storm-clouds at sea with an unconvincing nonchalance. She is a tall muscular woman dressed in piratey-finery, with high boots, far too many belts and buckles, and a sword hanging at her side.

Hyne looks over his shoulder once again, wondering how long the Monk will take with his story. Coming here was a mistake as it is already, and his life is more and more in danger by the second.

The poet continues, 3 rabbits remaining... 2 rabbits remaining...

With a change of music, the funeral commences.

Armored paul-bearers lift the king's body from the flower-covered wagon and begin to carry him up the steps of Pelor's temple.

Many of the people standing on the star-shield temple's steps move over to the left side to get a better view of the Pelor temple steps, leaving Hyne and the Poet alone and ignored.

-- well, almost ignored. The spying woman takes a quick glance at Hyne as she shifts her attention from the clouds to the funeral. She resumes pretending to not be watching him.

Three high priests, each dramatically different from one another, are standing to deliver benedictions for the fallen King. One is an old frail orc wearing bright orange robes with an enormous sun filling the whole front. One is a tall and beautiful curly-haired woman wearing form-fitting black robes with gleaming golden trim, and the third is Harborbishop Cray, the same high priest of Umbarlee who Hyne last saw back in Bovo township. Even at this distance his bitter scowl is unmistakable.

"...and the final moment of the 1st rabbit's last breath grew,
and became an eternity, stretching out in all directions, filled with
endless swirls of things that you and I cannot comprehend."

The Poet seems to be finished speaking. He falls silent, stands motionless, and stares skyward through his ribbon-obscured eyes.

Hyne can feel an unwanted pressure surrounding him. Quickly, he leans over the monk and gently slaps at his face as if trying to wake him up. He keeps his voice to a whisper, "Hey..! Hey.. Are you still with me?"

He looks away for a second while thinking as quickly as he can. Perking his face back up, he asks in hopes of getting the Pelor monk's attention, "What about the eleventh one? The rabbit that went to the land of the sun."

The Poet does not flinch at the slap, but his expression changes, first surprise, then a smile, then concern.

"One who wishes to escape from eyes, seeks an audience with me, who has none."

"Follow"

He says, and suddenly he is walking up the steps towards the star-shield-dome temple's door, much faster and more confidently than one might expect for a blind man. He is not carrying any walking stick, but he does walk with both hands slightly out-stretched, fingers splayed. He moves like a mime portraying a sleepwalker.

Off to the left, the old high-priest in the orange-and-yellow sun-robes begins a sing-song littany in a quavering voice, comparing the king's goodness to the sun's brightness.

From where the king's body is positioned, his crown is clearly visible, so apparently somebody had another fake ready.

Hyne is surprised that he's recognized as being watched. Is this the power of an oracle?

He steps up himself, and pushes himself on his feet to get up the stairs to follow after. He doesn't pay much attention to the funeral procession at this point, more focused on his own business.

Following the Poet-Oracle inside the Star-Shield-Dome temple, Hyne sees a larger-than-life statue of a goddess with eagle's wings. She is down on one knee, with her hand outstretched over a still pool of water. Inscriptions around her indicate that this temple is to Ayailla, Goddess of Sky, Stars, and Navigation.

Nobody seems to be in here except the Poet and Hyne.

The woman who was watching Hyne makes no move to follow him. Not yet anyway.

The Poet crosses a huge empty tiled floor in the center of the temple. Lifted high above the floor is a huge telescope, and the bulky and complicated aparatus that could lift it up through the dome above on a clear night.

The Poet heads for a small unadorned door in the back.

Somehow, this awe inspiring dome is a foreign, unfamiliar place to him. Most of the past few years have been spent exclusively outdoors under the tree and sky, within air that flows freely or trapped in a compact shelter from the rain.. or most recently, in the company of claustrophobia inducing crowds and invasive people, rarely finding single room in inns to stay in. This place is different, it is massive and hollow, and because of it the air remains still. The goddess statue before him is not what he expected based on who the monk supposedly worships, but the statue's presence adds to the haunting feel of his surroundings.

Already Hyne can tell that his surroundings will feel much smaller past the door the monk leads him to.

Through the back door is a marble corridor lined with six plain wooden doors.

The Poet bypasses them all, and continues out a back door, which leads out into an open courtyard.

The back of the domed temple of Ayailla is just as grand as the front, but the courtyard in the back faces a squalid apartment building and and alley-way.

Laundry is hanging from some of the windows of the apartment, drying in the sun.

A pair of old Kobold Grandmothers is sitting at a small table, playing some sort of card game. Nobody else is around.

The Poet unslings his chest-pouch, and places the baby kobold into the lap of one of the grandmothers. It coos and continues sucking the meat off the chicken bone.

The Poet stops at the front step of the apartment. It has a legend above the door that says "Alms House For The Poor" with a small starry shield of Ayailla.

"Here is my home, oh stranger who seeks behind the sun." Says the Poet. "I am Uosh. They call me an Oracle, but I am not. Will you feel safe talking here?... or only as safe as a rabbit?"

He glances around. Although it is no longer safe anywhere in the city, there aren't many he can endanger in return, and the area is too close to the funeral celebrations to allow any attention to be drawn towards any attack on him.

The quaint feel of the home is pleasant. Just seeing the little lizard baby join with its family again reminds him.. when was the last time he saw his own parents?

It had been before he departed on the scouting mission. He doesn't even remember how old he would've been then. Eighteen? Nineteen? They must have accepted the idea that their son is dead by now. Even if he did come back, those are many years of pain and mourning that he's caused for his cowardly desertion.

He answers, "This is a pleasant place. I was hoping to learn more about the land in the far east while I was here." By now, he's dropped his fake voice while he is here, assuming that the monk knows it is a false voice anyway, and his change of appearance has proven to have not been a viable strategy.

Uosh leads into one of the rooms on the first floor of the apartment, and sits down on the simple cot. There is one chair in the room, a cabinet, and little else. Its pretty dark in here.

"East is a quaint and false notion that a great many people believe in,
but, yes, I remember the land of my birth."

"I will answer your questions, for a small price,
and the price is this;
You must tell me why you want to know."

"But you must wait until the end to tell me,
because once you tell me your goal,
I will not answer any more of your questions,
...though I may bit you farewell with advice."

Hyne opens his mouth for a moment then stops himself. What can he say that would not prematurely end the conversation?

As a ranger, he is not sure what the monk means by the east being false. He tries to give his own insight, "East is just a name given to where the sun rises in a morning." He drums the table as a thought springs to his mind, "But you're right. It's not always true. The rain, the fog, even the trees have obscured it."

"Then.. before I tell you my goal, I want to know if it's true. If it's true that people die upon the mountain."