When Neia left abruptly, Illyana found herself sitting alone in the hotel room, she'd been in many such rooms over the years, but she'd never really paid any attention to them, it was after all...all about the guest. Now that she was alone in it however, she noticed it was actually a very lovely place, with only the loops for ropes or chains and positioned bedding indicating it had a far more sinister purpose. Part of her had to wonder though whether it was the room that was changing, or if it was herself. Even the scant training she'd been recieving had been changing the way she saw things. Humans who remained at the hotel might as well have been gods before, at least in the eyes of broken slaves, they held the whip, they held the power of life and death, they might as well have been gods. Now though, she saw them differently, the obese slovens, the ugly faces, the way those weaker groveled and conducted themselves with simpering servility to their wealthier superiors. As she grew stronger, even by the smallest increments, she found herself thinking less of her abusers.
She knew to keep her eyes downcast to hide the spirit of rebellion growing within her, however there was no question that she could never go back to the way she was, she could never see them as being so powerful and terrifying and superior again. She'd die first.
She stood up from her chair and went to run a bath. Very few hotels had something as complex as running water, and she wondered which spells were responsible for it, but regardless, she was grateful to whoever had done that much. The bath ran with hot water and the marble tub began to fill up. She sighed deeply and removed everything she could from her body, and then she stepped down into the sunken tub and allowed the water to subsume her. She enjoyed the warm sensation and reached out for the soap and began to clean herself. She was grateful for the knowledge she was gaining, however despite her long time in human service, she retained the traditional elven love of cleanliness, and for once in her life she did not have to rush things. She could simply soak and enjoy it, she lay back with her arms wide and eyes closed and sighed contentedly.
She must have lain that way for awhile because she heard Skana's voice in the bedroom.
"Neia, I'm back! CZ?!" She called out, only to recieve no answer.
The fruit of long habit blossomed again and Illyana responded quickly, she dashed out of the tub and knelt with eyes down in front of the woman without so much as drying herself. "Mistress Skana, Mistresses Neia and CZ have been called away by urgent business to a place called Kedyn by someone named Robel. She said something about Blue Rose requiring her assistance. She left her apologies about leaving without saying anything, but it was important and she would be back in several days."
Skana blushed a beet red and turned around. "Um...thank you Illyana...but...you can put something on you know."
Illyana remembered who she was dealing with, and her hatred for the breaker and her trainers fired up inside her. "Mistress Skana...thank you." She said and went to take up a towel and dry herself off. "You didn't have to do that for me." Illyana said, commenting on Skana's having turned around.
"I did." She replied.
"Why?" Illyana asked.
"Your body is yours alone. I don't have the right to take it, touch it, or have it exposed to me without your say so. You have a right to whatever degree of modesty you want for yourself with whoever you want it with." Skana replied, quoting from one of Neia's many speeches on justice.
Illyana was quiet for awhile, but Skana kept her back turned as she could hear the rustle of the towel and the slight jingle of collar and chains that had to have haunted her daily for years.
At last she heard the towel being put away and the clothing...such as it was, being restored.
"I'm dressed." Illyana said softly. "Thank you." She added, in a gentle voice.
Skana turned around. "Alright, now first, thank you for telling me about Neia's departure, CZ I have no doubt, insisted on going along for security, but that doesn't mean we're going to slow down." Her voice carried her enthusiasm she felt, and she went and took up the improvised weapons and threw one of them to Illyana.
"I've already spoken with all the other members, they're buying two or three elves each, easy enough in these massive rooms, while Tinamoc is keeping more at the warehouse. Our members are training your fellows in their rooms, and when we're done, I'm going to go out and pick up two or three myself, we'll need every edge we can get. But for now, its just you and I, but don't worry, I'm better with a sword than Neia." She said, and took up her position...
While Neia was gone Tinamoc did very good business, the ability of his merchants to hawk their wares not only announced their existence, but it announced that these were merchants that had the favor of the ruling elite. Anyone with any sense did not sub the most senior of the cities citizens, so the coin flowed into the Tinamoc's hands. He made a point of 'investing' his coin in weapons and armor, and when he mingled among the merchants at the guild he talked about the instability in the North and the way things had been going there. It was then that he learned of the actions of Remedios Custodio.
He was sitting in the merchant's guild hall, a highly refined place with smooth polished dark wood tables and chairs, a gold inlaid bar on the left near the entrance, and an excellent kitchen in the back where food was prepared by the most highly trained elven slaves. 'Beauty hides poison...' he thought to himself he looked around. He saw what others around him clearly did not, or did not care about if they did. The bare chested elves moved silently between tables as they took orders, and as a willowy female approached his table nearly indifferent to her own almost total nudity, she wore a carefully neutral mask...it was the face of a slave fearing to excite any emotional response in their oppressor, her neutral face however, cracked a bit as she looked at Tinamoc long and hard, as if trying to work something out.
The merchant seated next to him slapped him on the shoulder and said, "So business is good isn't it Tinamoc?" The man had obviously had a few to many cups of red wine, but Tinamoc went along with it with some disguised discomfort. "It is Rembal, its been very good indeed."
When the man said Tinamoc's name, he saw the recognition across her face, a moment of awe, before it was carefully replaced with the neutral mask again. Tinamoc kept his own face neutral, but he gave the girl a single wink to let her know he understood he'd been recognized. The vines had spread. "What may I get for you masters?" The elf asked in a voice carefully modulated to draw the least amount of attention necessary."
Tinamoc had been here before, he knew how best to minimize their pain when he could not relieve it. The trays the elves carried when loaded with drinks would be attached to their chests and secured to their waits, requiring very careful movement to avoid spilling, the weight of the tray determined the amount of pull, and thus the pain they would endure. Tinamoc however, noticed that some drinks came in much smaller quantities than others, and were far more potent, thus putting others at the table out of commission earlier. With nothing else to be said or done, he ordered four shots of the strongest and most expensive hard liquors. He covered up any perception of kindness to the much relieved female when she learned what she would be carrying, by saying, "That is how good business is, I get only the best, and I get it for all."
He glanced at his fellow merchants, but then finished his look at the face of the elf, letting her know that his words were more for her than they were for him.
"So," Rembal asked, "Do your heavy purchases of arms and equipment have anything to do with Remedios Custodio?"
Tinamoc blinked. "What?"
"You haven't heard?" Rembal asked, his eyes burning with enthusiasm.
"She's gone completely renegade against Caspond over his ties to the Sorcerer King and to Black Justice." Rembal said.
"Yes I've heard something about this, I've seen the results of her handiwork." He said neutrally.
Rembal leaned in, Tinamoc could smell the wine on him as his rough face grew closer. "Listen, I know you're making use of Neia Baraja because the crown ordered you to, but at your first chance, you need to dump her. Remedios is HERE in the South now. She's been gathering an army, and its growing every day, I've been providing her with some support along the way, but what with all the disruption, she's taken more direct action. I met with her shortly after she began building up a sizable force, and she sent around five thousand men to Kedyn to execute the heretics there. I've known you for years, and I'd rather not see you get dragged down by being tied to the losing side." Rembal said, his voice going from energetic to cautious and concerned as he explained what was happening in the South.
"She's still a fair ways from here though, isn't she?" Tinamoc asked.
"Sort of, but my caravans have been taking her people all over the South for a fair bit now, they train, they ride, they hunt for heresy, they live only to work the will of the gods. It is truly...inspiring." He said, his voice filling with an awe that sickened Tinamoc.
"Yes...inspiring. I had no idea she'd gone so far." Tinamoc said.
"So then the armor and weapons and so on?" Rembal asked.
Tinamoc paused and looked the man over, he'd known Rembal for many years, and he wasn't all that different than the way he was years ago, they had been casual friends until Tinamoc met him here in this very city, and saw first hand how he treated the elves, it killed what respect he had for the man, however as a fellow merchant acting in accordance with the law there was nothing to be done about it except keep quiet and 'remember'. A large and powerfully built man, Tinamoc had often wondered why he never went into the military instead, whatever his reason however, this fitness and what he had observed of Rembal's routine told him that a simple lie would not do.
"The prices for arms and armor will soar soon enough." Tinamoc replied, and he gestuerd for Rembal to lean in closer, and Tinamoc moved in as well and he whispered, "There is no way the current King will last much longer, either the North will kill him, or the South will, or the Sorcerer King will, or the Slane Theocracy will. When that happens supporters of the only true divinity in this world will need arms and armor to defend the true cause, it will be just, and it will be profitable, which is very good accounting from where I sit." Tinamoc finished his statement with a predatory smile, one matched by the unwary prey who had no idea who he truly referred to.
Tinamoc got what he went there for, rumors abounded in the guild hall, and he had a great deal of information to share with Neia when she returned, when he eventually left he made his way over to the warehouse district and rode his horse through the winding streets until he made it deep into the center. Activity was very low here, except for people dropping off or picking up goods...or patrolling to minimize theft, there was no reason to be there. The cobbled stones cliped and clopped under the hooves of his horse and echoed off the walls. Because crime was relatively low even foot patrols were few and they themselves were more for show than to prevent anything specific. When this was combined with the evening hour in which Tinamoc moved, he counted on and got a very quiet uninterrupted ride until he found the set of warehouses he had chosen to rent. He knocked three times to alert those inside that it was safe, and then he walked in.
The lights went on and the elves looked to see who it was. He surveyed the rows of elves, they included only men and women, no children. At first this had caused some suspicion...along with the insane promise that he'd made that he'd see them free, but gradually he had explained what was happening. Neia's name had lent him ample credibility, and he made use of that to explain the intended escape that he and Skana had worked out. Further doubts were erased when he showed them the weapons and armor they'd be using, and if any remained after that, the introduction of a Black Justice instructor crushed those doubts for good measure. Given opportunity for revenge and escape, they took to their training with zeal. The only real drawback was the need for silence, and grunts and cries that were poorly timed could give them all away. To that end Tinamoc suggested a simple and elegant solution. Gags. They bound gags around their mouths to keep them from crying out with more than a whimper.
Now here he stood in front of two hundred silent and gagged elves.
"There may need to be an adjustment to the intended plan." Tinamoc said. "After speaking with the other merchants it seems that due to the reports about heretic activity in the North, the city is going to be increasing its gate monitoring, we need another way out."
One of the elves removed his gag and asked, "Could we tunnel?"
Tinamoc shook his head. "No, we could...probably, but disposing of the dirt would be difficult and we could never make a tunnel big enough to get everybody out."
"Could we break down the wall?" The elf asked.
"Has anyone succeeded at doing that here?" Tinamoc asked.
The elf furrowed his brow thoughtfully, then shook his head slowly.
"What about going over the wall?" He asked.
"How?" Tinamoc asked.
"Find out how high the walls are, then give us the building materials, we'll make ladders of a suitable size, and then we can use ropes to go down the other side, we'll go down the other side and meet up to escape. Nobody will be looking for that, and we only have a few guards to be wary of, plus we can escape from multiple different positions all at once." The elf said in a voice that was hopeful and enthusiastic.
Tinamoc stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That might work." He said. "Alright, I'll acquire some lumber, and have some construction materials brought to you, tonight I'll go up the wall with a string and a rock and work out how high it is, and tomorrow night you can build between training sessions." The elf began to smile, but Tinamoc raised a cautious finger.
"We will do this, but this city's guards are the best I've seen, they're dangerous, and you have only a few weeks to prepare before we have to act, whoever volunteers to buy time for the rest, had best expect to die in these streets." He said seriously.
The elf's face turned red with hate. "We die every day in this city, we die in their torture rooms, we die in their bedrooms, we die bound and whipped in their streets, our very lives are a walking death, endured only in the hope of someday seeing all this end, whoever volunteers for this is different from those who do not, only in that they give their last death a meaning through someone else's life. We are prepared for that."
Tinamoc gave him a grave nod. "I will return when I am able." He said, and left the warehouse as the elf put his gag back on. Tinamoc rode silently for awhile, gathering the materials he needed was easy, just a brick and a string tied together, drop the brick, hold the ball of string, and when it hits ground, cut the stretched out strand, measure the distance, and make a ladder tall enough to lean that high and ropes a few feet longer. Easy. When he had what he needed he went to the nearest tower keeping the small brick in his pocket tied to the string and he went up the stairs. His footfalls echoed along the walls, but this was unimportant, after all, he was one of the most important merchants in the country with direct ties to city leadership...nobody would question him.
He ascended the wall and left the dancing shadows disappear behind him and he quietly removed the brick and dropped it over the side, holding the ball of string in his pocket, in this much darkness, the act wouldn't even be noticed. He however, was. A guard saw him standing there looking out over the crenelations and decided to approach him. He held a torch up and saw the rich robes of a powerful merchant and he slowed his pace considerably. Tinamoc got a good look at the man, he was young, perhaps early twenties, beardless, but hard faced despite that. His armor was a mix of mineral links and he wore a long sword at his side and carried a spear in his free hand. As the guard came closer, he relaxed more and more, perhaps realizing just how significant Tinamoc had to be if he was dressed that way. Tinamoc played his hand calmly and waved to the guard. "Beautiful view, isn't it?"
The guard shrugged. "I thought so when I first saw it, but now...well its gotten old. That all you're here for, just the view?"
"Yes, I've been to this city many times, but never taken the time to do this, its just that tonight I couldn't sleep, so I thought it a good time to fulfill a long intended desire." He replied with a smile that was as warm as it was phony.
The guard shrugged again and stood next to Tinamoc, "Well, have a pleasant evening then, we normally don't allow people up here for nonofficial reasons, but I suppose everybody should see this at least once, I hope you rest easy after you've had your fill of the view."
The young man was polite, Tinamoc approved of his good manners and wished him well, and the guard began to walk past him...unfortunately he walked behind Tinamoc and tripped over the string that hung out of his pocket all the way down to the brick at the base of the wall. The man fell face forward with a loud clattering of metal, prompting Tinamoc to almost fall off the wall himself as the string was pulled
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" Tinamoc said as he righted himself, the guard had gotten to all fours and grasped his head with surprise, looking for the reason he'd fallen, he rose to one knee looking around, before his torch allowed him to get a glimpse of the string that was still vibrating from the force of his tripping over it.
He followed the strand and realized the wall was being measured, and he realized the implications of doing that alone at night. "What th-" he began to say, only for a desperate Tinamoc to leap on top of him, draw his dagger and stab the guard in the throat. The young man clutched at his injury as blood spewed out, and Tinamoc was grateful that he had chosen to wear chiefly red and black that day, as the blood blended in just fine. That did not stop Tinamoc from continuing to swear as he struggled with the flailing guard, a tumble of flying limbs and kicking legs, until he could get hold of the man as he bled out, and with a grunt, heave him over the wall into the water below, allowing the armor to carry him under.
Tinamoc picked up the spear and threw it over the wall as well, and then he looked down at the stone and himself. The blood on the stone was copious, someone would realize a murder had been done here, the blood on himself was a minimal problem, at least at night, but this was a fresh wrinkle in the plan, as the death of a guard was very rare, and someone was bound to be suspicious.
He wiped his face clean of any blood stains and did the same for his neck and hands, then cut the string and completed the measurements as planned. After that he rushed back down, removed the evidence of measurement, and hurried back to his room as quickly as he could, slipping in without drawing the notice of the front desk and going to his room shaking from the rush of the near exposure and hoping the ripple effect of the dead man would not be to great.
