Xanthippe (Act III)

Template:Xanthippe nav Meshif's ship pulled out of the harbor with a full crew and two passengers. At least, there shouldn't be any more; the crew made several searches of the ship, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Any stowaways couldn't be very powerful, as Xanthippe could sense no magic, so they probably wouldn't be in any danger.

Xanthippe stood on the stern of the ship and watched the city grow smaller in the distance. When you travel by magic, there are no long good-byes; you blink and you're there. But traveling by ship, or by caravan, does have advantages. You have time to relax, and reflect. Her mother, her grandmother -- most of her relatives were probably dead. There might be a cousin somewhere in Khanduras. He'd become a priest; the "black sheep" of the family. She wished she could have found her mom's pendant. There might have been something about it to help find her father. How did that angel know about her family? Damn, she really lost it when he pulled that out of nowhere. And he ducked her questions about Heaven and Hell, too. If she ever saw an angel again, Xanthippe resolved to interrogate him calmly, and not let him dodge the issue, no matter what he said.

When she came aboard, Meshif had told her, "My cabin is yours." Why was he so confused when she put all her stuff in there? She couldn't walk around the ship in full armor, what if she fell overboard? The Zann Esu taught her how to harness the elements, not how to swim. One day, as she was standing on the ship's stern, watching the waves wash out in the ship's wake, Meshif came to ask her to do something.

"Ah," he began, "madam."

"I'm not a madam, I'm not even in a house."

"No, no... it's not that. It's, ah..."

"You need some more wind."

"No, we have a good wind, it's not that."

"You want your cabin back?"

"No... it's the crew."

Xanthippe looked back over her shoulder. "Isn't that your department?"

"You are..." Meshif scratched his ear, and stared at the water indecisively. "They are, but discipline is becoming a problem."

"Do you think they're going to mutiny and turn pirate?"

"No... I don't think you realize, when you lean on the railing..."

"I get sick when we go through the big waves. I tried not to make a mess."

"You'll get your sea legs sometime. But you've been wearing that mini skirt..."

Raising an eyebrow, Xanthippe asked, "How does wearing a skirt keep me from getting my 'sea legs'?"

"Well, my crew keeps getting... distracted."

"By what?"

Meshif rolled his eyes. "Nothing. Sorry to have troubled you."

That was a strange conversation. But Xanthippe had started to notice something. Some people can't come out and say what they mean; they hem and haw and talk in circles around it, hoping you'll read their minds and figure out what they're babbling about. But if you take all the little hints they try to drop, sometimes you can put them together and figure them out what's up. Hmmm... me in a skirt... leaning over the rail... a distracted crew.

A hypothesis formed in Xanthippe's mind. Glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder, she stood up and stretched languorously. Her halter top rode up high; she straightened it delicately, and ran her hands down her sides to smooth her skirt. The whole crew suddenly looked very busy; my, what a burst of energy that brought on. Goodness, the Zann Esu certainly would not approve of this! Of course, the girls in her family tended to be pretty; it made their house a success. According to the Zann Esu, this sort of thing was supposed to make her angry; but somehow, she didn't really mind. Curiosity satisfied, for the moment, Xanthippe walked (well, strutted, maybe, just a tiny bit) to the prow, and watched the waves breaking over the front of the ship.

When the ship arrived at Kurast, Meshif couldn't find the docks at first. The land was a giant green wall, nothing but plants, plants everywhere, you couldn't see anything but green right down to the edge of the water. This was not what the great city of Kurast was supposed to look like, so Xanthippe ordered Kasim to suit up. There might be trouble. Finally, after sailing past what might have been several piers completely swathed in vines, there was an opening; a small dock, barely large enough to tie the ship at, with a few people fishing off the end. They called and waved as the ship approached, and ran to bring others.

Xanthippe disembarked with Kasim, both armed and ready for anything. The entire welcoming committee consisted of one small man, covered with tiny burn scars. "Greetings," he said. "I am Hratli, smith and enchanter. Weaponry and armor are my specialties, and I am very happy to see two such as you. I don't have many customers, these days."

"Hi. What the hell happened here?"

"I perceive that you are not a believer in small talk. We shall have big talk, then. The servants of Zakarum are a plague upon the land. The rivers run red with blood, and demons fill our nights and days. A wretched jungle hell has swept over all, and we few survivors huddle on the dockside as our city falls to pieces and is consumed."

Xanthippe smirked. "Oh, I don't know, a little spackle, some weed killer, you could get this place fixed up all right. You sure you're a smith? You look kind of puny."

Hratli, who was only a bit taller than Xanthippe, smiled thinly. "While it is refreshing to meet someone who has dispensed with any tedious sense of false modesty, I must regret that we can offer you little by way of hospitality. Fish and bananas are our entire diet, and even the water is fouled by a demonic presence."

"That's got a ring of truth to it," Kasim noted.

"Any idea what's causing all this?" Xanthippe asked

"The city was built around a tower, which housed the soulstone used to imprison the eldest of the Three. The demon lord Mephisto has corrupted his keepers, and now leads them as his army. Where once they seemed wise men, there now stand paranoid religious fanatics."

"Religion'll do that to you," Xanthippe said. "So, it's the church, huh?"

"Where the eldest of the Three is involved, it is doubtful that any church could stand. There are many things the Horadrim of old did that seem to lack common sense."

"Tell me about it. Kasim, let's look around town."

It wasn't much of a town, just a section of the dockside under a Dome of Protection. Most of it wasn't even solid land, just stilts driven into the river muck to support a few houses and walkways. The few patches of stony land were all made from fill poured into the water. One of these had a big stepped pyramid on it, surmounted by a small temple. Xanthippe was looking up at it when a very tall man approached her.

"You now speak... to Ormus!"

Xanthippe's eyes narrowed. "No! Really?"

"He once was a great mage, was Ormus."

"Now he does advertisements for Abs of Steel (TM)."

"Now he lives like a rat on a sinking vessel."

"Is his vessel sinking? He'll need it safely harbored. He needs to find a good one, though, I see it lists to starboard."

"What the hell was that?" Kasim asked.

"Old dockside call," Xanthippe laughed.

"You have questions for Ormus, he perceives."

"Yeah: why does he refer to himself in the third person?"

"You have questions for yourself."

"Yeah! Why am I standing here listening to this?"

"Ormus sees conflict in you, as he does in all would-be heroes."

"No, Ormus sees conflict with me, when I kick him upside the head!"

"Boss, leave him alone, it's bad luck to beat up people like that." Kasim tugged on her arm.

"Aw, c'mon! He's funny!"

"And you can't kick him upside the head, he's too damn tall."

"Can I slap him around like a red-headed stepchild?"

"He doesn't have hair either."

If Ormus was discomfited by any of this, he gave no indication. "All will soon become clear."

"Not with demons 'fouling' the water supply!" Xanthippe laughed.

Finally, Kasim dragged her off. She could have stood there making fun of Ormus all day, he was too damned easy. Of course, the next person they met might have been even easier.

"Hello there," Asheara said. "You must be a great adventurer to risk coming here."

Staring goggle-eyed at this vision, Xanthippe bit her lip hard. Tiny, muffled giggles escaped the corners of her mouth. Asheara continued, "I'm Asheara, leader of the Iron Wolves."

Glancing over, Kasim noticed that Xanthippe was turning dark pink. "Uh... yeah, great adventurers. Can you excuse us a minute?" He dragged her outside.

Asheara must have heard the laughter. It lasted nearly a minute. "Dammit, what's gotten into you?" Kasim asked. "You're acting all weird and stuff."

"Did you SEE that woman!? Talk about overcompensation! And the snake! Of course she has a pet snake! How damned phallic can you get?! And the 'Iron Wolves'!! Oh, how scary and awesome they must be! Oooh, I'm so intimidated!"

"How damned WHAT can you get?"

"Never mind. Oh, wow. This town is hilarious. Let's see what else they've got."

Looking very uncomfortable, Kasim followed Xanthippe to a small hut. A hunched old man with a bald head and a face like an dyspeptic monkey greeted them with, "Hello, and welcome to Kwikee-mart! Oh, you're new here, aren't you?"

"Yep! I'm Xanthippe. You're an alchemist. You sure smell like one."

"I sell potions and salves. You may buy some, but don't make a habit of coming here! My studies constantly require my attention."

"Do you sell licorice?"

Alkor looked at her strangely. "How did you know?"

"Alchemical union bylaws, no. 310."

"Dammit. I will sell you some if you promise not to tell anyone."

"You will give me some, if I promise not to tell anyone."

"It is a deal. Now, I can get rid of the filthy stuff. It attracts brats. See? It has attracted one already, and it is not even noon today!"

Xanthippe didn't meet anyone else special that day. Some of the townspeople mentioned a woman on the southern docks, armed with strange weapons, but when Xanthippe went to look, there was no such person there.