Xanthippe (Chapter 19)

Template:Xanthippe nav The next morning, Xanthippe yawned, stretched, and listened to the rain outside. Does it every stop raining here? Lut Gholein could use a little of this weather. After the time she'd spent here, she understood why all their stuff was either of incredible quality, or as cheap as possible. With all the rot, things had to be either indestructible, or cost nothing to replace. The roofs, for instance, were heavily lacquered ceramic tile, or thatch. Nothing in between. The desert's heat preserves things; those mummies in the sewers had to be imported. And supposedly, the saber cats of Lut Gholein were from these jungles. The Three were working together over very long distances. Maybe Diablo and Baal hadn't needed to stow away on Meshif's ship. Does Mephisto know what she's doing, where she is?

Lying in bed won't do any good, no matter what the enemy is planning. During her morning stretching, Xanthippe was pleased to note she could put her palms on the floor without even straightening her arms. She could bend over backwards until she put her hands on the ground too, and balance like that. One of the girls at her grandmother's could put both legs behind her head; Xanthippe only managed one. Still, not bad. While getting her armor, she noticed it was still green with dried slime; she'd forgotten to have her equipment cleaned and repaired last night. Ew, the padding she wore underneath was getting moldy again. That was the fifth set of padding she'd had to buy; if she didn't replace it regularly, it gave her a rash.

On her way to Hratli's, Xanthippe saw someone new. She was very tall and long-legged, with short dark hair, and was dressed all in black. Including, Xanthippe noted, thigh-high, jet-black, patent leather boots. This reminded her of Kashya; high boots over creamy pale thighs, revealed by daringly cut armor, was a popular look for some warrior women. Maybe they favored it for the distraction value, along with the low-cut cuirasses. In her opinion, there were too many arteries and other vulnerable things in the thighs, chest, and neck to even consider it. But, there's no point in holding poor aesthetic judgment against someone new; there will be plenty of things to hold against them after you've met them.

"Hi there," Xanthippe smiled. "New in town?"

"Hello. I'm Natalya," the woman smiled. "I've been here and there. Guess we've just missed each other. It's been hell out in that jungle."

"Yep, it's been hellish." Xanthippe looked down. "Amazing that you can keep such a shine on those boots, with all the mud and blood and fire you have to go through out there. I could never manage it myself."

Natalya laughed. "I like keeping up appearances."

"Oh, I noticed," Xanthippe quickly interjected.

"You look like you've got some armor troubles there."

Xanthippe lifted her plate mail to look at. "Yeah, it's probably got a few communicable disease colonies living in it by now." She flicked a stray flayer bone out of one armpit. "Gotta get Hratli to clean it up."

"He's very good for that. My order could really use someone of his talents. If he ever wants to leave this hellhole, I'll be happy to offer him a job."

"Your order?" Xanthippe delicately inquired.

"The Viz-Jaq'taar. We've had to come out of hiding and take a more active role in the world than is our usual policy. All this business, you understand."

Oh... kay, Xanthippe thought. That order isn't supposed to really exist, and if they do exist, they're supposed to all be men, since they were founded by the Vizjerei, the male-only mage clan the Zann Esu got (or stole) a lot of their magical knowledge from. "Hmm, interesting. Kill anybody yet today?"

"The day's hardly begun." Smiling, Natalya asked, "How are you planning to spend your day?"

"Well, there's this demon lord, see. Actually, there's three of them, and they're planning this big reunion party. They were rude enough not to invite me, so I'm going to crash the party and steal the hors d'oeuvre tray. And maybe get drunk and throw up on their dates."

Natalya listened with arms folded, and nodded. "Interesting."

"A good time shall be had by all. Excuse me, the sun's rising. I want to make good use of daylight."

"Understandable. Sure they'll have dates with them?"

"Several for each. None of them seem to travel alone, these days. Ta-ta!"

Damn, that was creepy. What the hell is an assassin doing here, and not going after Diablo or someone worthy of the attention? Sure, they're supposed to keep mages honest by the threat of silent death, but there are bigger problems right now! "Hratli?"

Hratli took the armor and went to work. "I noticed that you have been talking with Natalya."

"Yeah. Where the hell did she come from, and what is she doing here?"

"That has been a source of speculation since before your arrival."

"You mean she was here before me?"

"Indeed, it is so. Wild rumors and gossip are all we have to entertain ourselves now, aside from the Flayer races on Saturdays. Two starving Flayers are placed in a pit, and the one which kills and devours the other is the winner."

"What do you do with the winner?"

"Drown it. I cannot abide cannibalism."

At least she's not after me, Xanthippe thought. "What's beyond the Kurast bazaar?"

"Beyond the marketplaces are the homes of the wealthy, and the causeway to Travincal." The armor took some work, it had gotten a terrible beating last night. After burning away the poison, and combing out the bones and other big chunks, Hratli gave Xanthippe two new sets of padding. She needed to double up on the padding, or the plate was too loose; Hratli couldn't cinch the metal in tight enough. "The city of Kurast was built to resemble the orb of the sun. The city resembles an onion, particularly by the weeping it brings to those who cut through it."

While Hratli polished her gauntlets, hammered the dents out of her crown, and sharpened the edge on her poleaxe, Xanthippe sat down by the warmth of his forge to think. Visiting Hratli was actually pleasant; the forge's heat made this the only really dry place in Kurast. "There is a mage-slayer in Kurast. What does she want?"

"It is possible that her presence has something to do with a mage."

"Hmm... there's Asheara, they might want to recruit her or something. Alkor? Nah. Ormus is just nuts. How about you?"

Hratli smiled thinly. "She has spoken to me about leaving this place, to forge weapons for her order. Her suggestions are reasonable. However, I am not a reasonable man."

"I know. Your prices sure aren't. I don't have enough information to figure out what she's here for. Have to listen to the rumor mill some."

One of Xanthippe's best sources of unsubstantiated rumor was Alkor. He'd tell her almost anything if it would get rid of her. And while she was there, she could gamble for boots. Asheara was still getting her beauty sleep, but Vanji showed Xanthippe the table of wares; no boots this morning, but maybe later.

"Alkor, you lovely person! How are you this bright, sunshiny morning?"

"Sleeping!" Alkor screamed. He'd stuffed himself under his mattress, and the place smelled like mulberries. "Hand me my clothing, stupid girl. What business do you wish to harass me about at such an hour?"

"Trying to return to the womb, Alkor?"

"For planting such an image in my mind, I will request you to drop dead. Last night, while studying so intensely I feared for my thighs, I imagined myself in a huge cave, filled with all the knowledge of the world. As I suspected, well over 99% of it was worthless filth, and it contaminated me with bits of socially acceptable drivel."

Turning her back while he combobulated himself, Xanthippe sniffed the air. "Sounds like you had quite a party. Anyone else I know get involved?"

"I dearly hope not."

"Aw, c'mon. There's a really hot chick in black down on the southern docks."

Alkor glared intensely at Xanthippe. "She is not much for reading."

"You know her, then?"

"Yes, I do. And she has no interest in books!"

"She sure doesn't dress like the intellectual type. Not nearly enough tweed. How have you met her, then?"

Alkor thought for a bit. "She buys a potion of manliness from me, every week."

"That's Asheara."

"Then she buys a potion of womanliness from me every week!"

"Then how come Asheara still has a bigger bust?"

"What sorts of sculptures Asheara keeps, I do not care about. Cease prattling, stupid girl. What do you want?"

"Well..." Xanthippe thought for a bit. Alkor is a lousy liar. Doesn't have the social skills for it. But he's not ready to talk yet. Later in the day, after he's gotten into his concoctions, he'll have loosened up enough to be chatty. "Let's gamble."

"Certainly! Your money is better in my pocket than yours any morning."

The gambling wasn't a total loss this time; Xanthippe walked away with a new set of boots. But she couldn't wear them. They were heavy greaves, rare and with excellent enchantments, including a lot of fire resistance. But Xanthippe wasn't quite strong enough to wear them and still run, and running is even more critical than fire resistance. Why are all the really good warrior things made for huge, muscle-bound brutes? Thinking about it, Xanthippe realized that question answers itself. Damn. She'd have to hang onto the greaves until she'd worked her thigh muscles enough. And have Hratli resize them. There aren't enough socks in the world to make her feet big enough for those things.

Back in Kurast, Xanthippe and Kasim crossed the bridge into upper Kurast. Immediately, a blizzard struck, a very intense snowstorm that blinded them with snow and chill, icy winds. Odd weather for this part of the world, but Xanthippe could see that it was magical. A group of robed priests, with a retinue of poleaxe-wielding zealots, was approaching. The zealots fell quickly; maybe if they'd been wearing the heavy armor Paladins are supposed to favor, they'd have given them more trouble. The priests were harder; they kept healing each other, and the chill they summoned up was getting annoying. Taking out the high priest took the wind out of their sails, though.

The upper city had temples, with more firewall- and meteor-tossing ghouls. There were also big blue serpent-men, just like the ones from Lut Gholein, only nastier. How were all these creatures getting across the Twin Seas? Surely, not on ships. Maybe, if they were being summoned from Hell, these were snakes she'd killed in Lut Gholein, come back meaner than ever for a rematch. After clearing the city, Xanthippe and Kasim went down the causeway, which also had two temples, and arrived in Travincal.

The city within the city was not much of a city anymore. The buildings were neglected, the streets hadn't been cleaned, and the many altars were all gory messes. While walking around the outer causeway, trying to get an idea of the extent of the place, Xanthippe saw a waypoint through cracks in a nearby wall. Grabbing Kasim, she teleported over and took it home. It was getting dark. They would take the city tomorrow.