Thaddeus (Act III)

Template:Thaddeus nav The elaborate plans of man all end,

Everything that stands will fall.

Nothing is safe forever, my friend;

Do not let its end surprise you.

Can you picture what will be

Years from now, in a desperate land?

-- The Book of Haisin, c. 22, v. 5-10

Foul winds were blowing across the Twin Seas, unseasonable winds straight out of the west. The trip to Kurast should have taken a week, but the ship was at the mouth of the Argentek in two days. Either Thaddeus was meant to be in Kurast sooner than soon... or something else was taking the same route, and he was along for the ride. According to what he'd read, the city of Kurast was huge, straddled over miles of both sides of the riverbank, far inland. The wind swept the ship along, driving in against the slow current of the river. This wasn't a journey; it was a delivery. Thaddeus was here on a mission, and it was being brought to him like room service.

The whole country was a jungle, a green eagerness enveloping the land. Everything was moist, spreading under its own thick weight; fecundity run amuck and gone rotten before it had time to ripen. From the river, all the way into Kurast, Thaddeus couldn't see anything but green. He could hear much more: squeals, hisses, gurgling, the groan of wood growing so fast it seemed to move on its own. Sometimes, voices came to his ears... high-pitched chittering with a vague language to it, or the groans of those past caring about life. Sitting on the prow of the ship, listening because he couldn't see anything meaningful, Thaddeus felt the whole land tightening around him the further in they went. Dull fear and inactivity ate into his mind. It didn't feel like angel's wings, pushing him where he wished to go. He was going to the worst place in the world, even if he didn't know it yet.

Where the glorious city of Kurast once stood, there was only empty green. The wind died away to a whisper. Apparently, they had arrived. Meshif's men started rowing, looking for a place to land. The green wall opened as the ship turned a bend, where a rotting wooden dock jutted into the river. Fighting against the sluggish water, thick with slime and snaking roots, Meshif steered the ship in. From his vantage point on the prow, Thaddeus saw the people first -- dark, slender people, staring at the ship with empty eyes. If he and Meshif's crew had been angels from heaven, these people probably wouldn't have cared. Some were armed; Thaddeus kept his hands away from his weapons.

"I gave you my word," Meshif said, "and brought you here. But by all that is holy, I wish I never saw this. Are you sure you want to go on?"

"There can be no doubt in my mind," Thaddeus said. "Who are these people?"

"I've never seen any of them. I haven't been here for years. I don't know what this evil is, my friend, but it's obvious it must be stopped. I pray you can before the jungle consumes the last vestiges of my beloved homeland."

"The land does seem to be... consuming itself."

Meshif shook his head. "The jungle made this land a paradise. Now it's as though paradise has festered... and burst open. You don't suppose they'd try to hurt us, do you?"

"It might take more will than they have." The ship thudded against the dock. Thaddeus stepped off, and held up his empty hand. "Greetings. We have come from Lut Gholein, to visit Kurast, and receive what news we may of your situation."

"Welcome to Kurast, traveler," a small man in red said. "Few come willingly anymore, so you may understand your appearance comes as a surprise to us. Tell me, how fares the Hand of Zakarum in Lut Gholein?"

"The Hand does not reach there," Thaddeus said, letting antagonism creep into his voice. "All there thank the Light it has not. My order, the Protectors of the Word, left the Hand and the church in Kurast many years ago, and count ourselves fortunate we did so."

"And the present state of Kurast?"

Thaddeus frowned. "Do you speak of the church, or the city it has become synonymous with? No word has come from either for years. Since I began my journey here, I have seen nothing good, and fear for this land. Or what is left of it."

Without much visible change, the tension permeating the dockside dissipated. Only the man in red was able to smile, though. "I am Hratli, smith and enchanter. As much as it pains me to say, your presence in Kurast is welcome."

"Are you in charge here, master Hratli?"

After a short pause, Hratli answered, "As much as anyone is. Tomorrow, you may be in charge."

"I cannot be in charge of a city," Thaddeus said. "What has happened to the city?"

"What city? There is no Kurast, only the wretched jungle hell which covers all the land and water. I have placed a protective spell over the docks, so if you wish, you may call the seven huts we have left to us 'The Glorious City of Kurast.'"

Despite himself, Thaddeus was beginning to grow annoyed. This strange man was talking in riddles -- complaining in riddles, really. "Where did the jungle come from?"

"From the ground. It is tended by the Hand of Zakarum."

Slowly, Thaddeus sighed. Turning back to the ship, he said, "Meshif, stay in the boat. I will go explore the glorious city of Kurast."

"Don't you worry, I'm not leaving this boat. Never get out of a boat, unless you're going all the way out."

The crowd wandered away while Thaddeus was talking to Hratli. Hratli wandered away while he was speaking to Meshif; the dock was empty now. Aimless wandering seemed to be the order of the day in Kurast, so Thaddeus wandered. Over some rickety wood bridges, past two of Hratli's huts, he found a stone platform built up from the river bottom. Roofed booths surrounded a bonfire; this might have been a marketplace once. Several people wandered around, a few carrying wares.

"Bananas, sahib? Only a penny for the bunch."

The man's voice was so plaintive, Thaddeus gave him two. "That's very cheap, compared with Lut Gholein."

"That is the price. I buy rice from Irenii for a penny, she buys bananas from me, for the same penny. None of us have seen meat in weeks."

A very closed economy, Thaddeus thought ruefully. "Surely animals can be found in the jungle? It can't all be plants."

"Go into the jungle, sahib?" The man looked genuinely terrified. "The jungle would eat me! If we are lucky, the Iron Wolves bring back more than they can eat, but that has not happened for a long time."

"The Iron Wolves?"

"Lady Asheara's mercenaries, sahib. Though I do not consider her much of a lady."

As he ate a banana, Thaddeus noticed a tall woman by the bonfire, staring at him in an appraising sort of way. "Is this lady Asheara?"

"No, sahib, that is Natalya. I do not know who she is."

"I shall ask her, then."

Natalya was quite tall for a woman, and slim. Her hair was cropped down to almost nothing, so looks might not be important to her... however, the leathers she wore gave a different impression. Thaddeus hadn't seen that much female skin since that house in Lut Gholein. Part of him was already starting to dislike her; he tried to suppress the prejudice. Though she might look better if she let her hair grow out. Fara's hair was much nicer.

"Hello. I've heard of your exploits in the west... I must say, I'm quite impressed. Taking on any of the Great Evils is a daunting challenge."

Thaddeus calmly chewed his banana. "You've heard of my exploits?"

"Word does reach here, from the outside. I am Natalya, a member of a secret society pledged to hunt evil."

"You've come to the right place," Thaddeus said. "How did you hear of my exploits?"

"Sailors love to talk, you know that." She smiled; she had a great smile. "It's good to see a warrior in Kurast again, someone who can take on the jungle."

"The jungle is merely a symptom, it seems to me, of a great evil hiding within it. As for sailors loving to talk, I did not know that. The sailors I have sailed with had very little to say about anything."

"You have to know how to talk to them. Let's say I have a certain advantage when it comes to talking with sailors. You're absolutely right about the great evil, by the way. You know it's your own church, and your own patriarch, Sankekur."

"I do not know that, either. Though I admit it is likely. I did not know Meshif or his men left their ship, or that they spoke with you at any length. They are afraid of this place, and seem to be unwilling to come this far."

"You're persistent, aren't you?" Natalya laughed. "Don't worry, I like a man who presses me hard. Tells me his mind's on the right things. You're right, I didn't talk to Meshif. He's still hiding in his cabin. My orders were to come to Kurast as soon as you left Lut Gholein. I've only been here a short time."

Perhaps it was the narrowing of his eyes that gave Thaddeus' thought away. "I'm not lying this time," Natalya said. "I don't like being called a liar."

"Even when what you say is intended to deceive and distract?"

"My organization is a secret; it has to be. I am not disposed to discuss it now."

"Do not worry, I doubt you have anything of importance to say." Thaddeus dropped his banana peel on Natalya's shiny mail boot. "Even if you did, I do not think I could trust your word, so it is better to pay you no heed unless you interfere with my mission."

Striding away, Thaddeus wondered if he should ignore Natalya, or keep a very close eye on her. She knew far too much, and how could she possibly have reached Kurast before he did? Only waypoints allow such speedy travel, and very few people have the knowledge and will to use them. Of course, if she was from a powerful order of hunters, and had visited Kurast before, she might be able to use the waypoints. Perhaps Cain would know something about her, and her mysterious 'order.'

Turning left, Thaddeus wandered onto a larger platform, dominated by a tall pyramid. The sight was not a pleasing one; the Skatsimi religion made use of such monuments. According to the lore of the church, before Zakarum made its home in Kurast, the native inhabitants practiced blood sacrifice, tortured their tribal enemies to death, and even engaged in ritual cannibalism. The pyramids, which they believed made stairways to Heaven, were central in their bloody rituals. Animals, even humans, were sacrificed at the top. After their hearts were cut out, the bodies were cast down the steps to be skinned and eaten. As though the Light could be pleased by such foulness.

Steps did lead up the side of this pyramid, and a fire burned at the top. Perhaps it had been put to use as a lighthouse, guiding ships into port. There were no stains on the steps, thank the Light. At the base of the steps, a tall, muscular man stood, deep in meditation. His priest-like looks suited the setting, but Thaddeus tried not to think ill of him. Thinking ill of people he'd only just met was getting to be a bad habit.

"Greetings, honorable... man. I am Thaddeus, of the Protectors of the Word."

"You now speak to Ormus, noble Paladin."

"Actually, it's Sir Thaddeus. Lady Akara, high priestess of the Rogues, knighted me."

"Ormus was once a great mage. Now he lives like a rat on a sinking vessel. You have questions for Ormus. You have questions for yourself."

A mage; that's not too bad. "I did wonder after your profession."

"The lives we all led, our elaborate plans, are at an end. Ormus is a poet, a teacher, and a seeker. What he seeks, even he cannot say. Seek wisdom with Ormus, or turn away, and seek it in thyself."

The light in Ormus' eyes was either the most sage wisdom, or raving lunacy. Thaddeus was leaning towards the latter, though some of his words were familiar. "What we seek, depends on what we need."

"Can you picture what will be? Are you so limitless and free? Can you picture what will be, years from now, in a desperate land?"

This guy made Hratli seem like a paragon of plain-spoken common sense. "Present needs might overwhelm such long-term concerns."

"Your wisdom is profound. Kurast is desperately in need of some stranger's hand. This is now a desperate land. All of her children... are insane."

Suddenly, Thaddeus recognized the half-quotations Ormus was babbling. They were from the Book of Haisin, one of the most hallucinatory pieces of Zakarumite scripture. Reading it always gave him a headache, but it might help for understanding Ormus' meaning. "My purpose is to rid this land of what plagues it. The demon lord Mephisto has infiltrated and taken over the church of Light. He must be expelled for the Light to shine here again."

"My friend, your words carry your love with you. The blessings of the church are upon your enemies. Go forth, and destroy all you value."

"That is not my goal," Thaddeus frowned. "Nothing here holds value for me."

"Can you picture what will be? Ormus thinks not."

There seemed little purpose to any more talk. Despite being in a churchly order, Thaddeus had never had much patience for mysticism. Solid knowledge and common sense were more reliable, and easier to communicate with the rest of humanity. Past the pyramid, a large house, two stories tall, rose above the water. Several armed men were gathered around the door; it seemed to be some sort of meeting. In all likelihood, these were the Iron Wolves, and the not-quite-a-lady Asheara was inside the house. It would not do to disturb their gathering, so Thaddeus went to look at a small, uninhabited shack near the edge of the docks. Maybe he could stow his locker there.

The shack was inhabited, just in miserable repair. As Thaddeus opened the door, a heavily accented voice squealed, "Leave me alone!"

"Hello. I thought to introduce myself."

"Oh, you're new here, aren't you?"

"Very new; my name is Thaddeus."

"I am Alkor, I peddle potions and salves. Should you wish to go into the jungle, you may want to buy some, but don't come around too often! I do not like being interrupted."

"I suppose insect repellent is popular here."

"Always. If only it did any good for the big ones. Have you seen them? Of course you have not, you are too new. How did you get here?"

"By ship from Lut Gholein, with your countryman Meshif."

"You came with Meshif? The 'tour guide to the stupid'? I am surprised you are here in one piece. Now go away!"

With a shrug, Thaddeus closed the door. "Charmed to have made your acquaintance."

The Iron Wolves' meeting had broken up by now, and they were scattering out among the docks. Thaddeus looked in the open door, and suddenly understood the banana peddler's words. "Hello there," the house's owner said. "Come on in."

Completely at a loss for words, Thaddeus did as he was told. Asheara (it could be no one else) was wearing something a Lut Gholein harem house might consider tasteless. A few tiny patches of cloth barely clung to her most unmentionable parts, not concealing anything at all. Even the color was hardly different from her deeply-tanned skin. "You must be a great adventurer to risk coming here. I'm Asheara, leader of the Iron Wolves."

"Uh... I... ah..."

Obviously greatly amused, Asheara said, "Fresh from the choir, eh boys?" A couple of her mercenaries, standing nearby, started laughing. "Close your yap, Paladin. Guys like you aren't supposed to drool anyway."

His face flushing, Thaddeus stood up straight and stared hard at Asheara's eyebrows. It would look like he was looking her in the eye. "I am Thaddeus, come from Lut Gholein, and the Rogue's Monastery before that. I am on a quest to prevent the reunification of the Three Prime Evils."

"And you came here to do it. Heh. That'd explain what's happening in the jungle. My boys keep blasting 'em to oblivion, but they just come back for more. Should have known there was a prime evil behind it."

"There certainly is. This land is under the sway of Mephisto, lord of Hate. His brothers, Diablo and Baal, are seeking him out."

"If he's anywhere, he's deep in the jungle. Some of my boys have gotten as far as the outer walls, and it's walking trees, psycho midgets, and mosquitoes the size of dogs all the way in. You've got your work cut out for you."

"That does not worry me," Thaddeus said, still staring. "The fate of all life is at stake."

"Uh-huh. If you can't handle it, you can hire one of my men, but don't expect me to hand out help for free."

Thaddeus looked her in the eye for real; she meant it. "I would never suggest it. The mercenary's code is well-known."

"Better be. And don't piss any of them off, either. They're worse than anything you'll meet out in the jungle."

"I am sure they are. My funds are limited, but perhaps I will see you again later."

Asheara raised an eyebrow. "High-quality armor for a poor warrior."

"It was a gift," Thaddeus explained. "Excuse me."

This was a troubled land, in desperate need, but also a troubling place. Everyone he'd met was either hopeless, mad, or almost naked. But then, he'd found the people of Lut Gholein troubling when he first met them, and the sisters of the Rogues. As he went back to Meshif's ship to pick up his footlocker, Thaddeus wondered about that. Was he only seeing the bad in people, on first meeting them? Common townsfolk will be different from those he'd known in the seminary; uncommon folk might be very different. Slowly, he repeated to himself: different does not mean bad. The Protectors of the Word fled a church that thought different was bad. The consequences of those evil thoughts were all around him now. Not for the first time, Thaddeus wished there were someone he might confess to. The state of his soul worried him; the final battle might be fought there.