The Lipaks Way: Escape from Violet Junction

An excerpt from bbs Campaign 09, "Getting the Goodies"

Artensing Stebnik stands on the roof of his inn and surveys Violet Junction in the gray light of an autumn mid morning. Trading season is over. The directors of the Violet Business Alliance, who collectively own the town, have vacated the place. The major merchants have packed up and departed, followed by the smaller merchants, speculators, vendors, artisans, entertainers and pickpockets. The yearly cycle is complete: what was for a while a city of tents and wagons has shrunk back into a small town of a dozen stone buildings.

South of him is Violet Falls, the gateway through the sheer rocky barrier of the Sierra Ijaleheks; behind that is the Empire. North, east and west is the desert and the trails that converge on the town. And Stebnik, the Alliance's resident manager is once again its undisputed ruler.

All around him the small group of permanent employees is examining the facilities. No repairs will be made at this time, but come spring they will have to work fast. So copious notes are taken. Further out, the broken down derelicts, who are employed as basic labor, slowly drag away the remains of temporary structures set up during the past months. The materials will be stored in an area called The Back Corner, and used again next year.

No caravans needing accommodation, no big business types with their impossible demands, no adventurers on the make, no Wildfire to reinterpret his orders, this is the best time of year.

Thinking on it a little more, Stebnik is not so sure that Wildfire leaving was such a good thing. It is true she had the aggressive temperament that is the stereotype of a redheaded gorvij waujak crossbreed. She was an insubordinate, backbiting bully, and she had turned out to be an embezzler, but dealing with her certainly made life interesting. And as work boss she always got things done. Tom, the overgrown adolescent who's replaced her, is no substitute, he doesn't thrash the workers regularly, but they don't obey him as quickly either. Yes, Stebnik concludes, he misses the exasperating woman. "Gods", he mutters, "getting sentimental in my old age!" It's definitely time to give himself a vacation. This year, he'll spend the holidays with his family in Lewawan.

But one duty remains before he can leave. Someone has stolen some valuable merchandise that was due to go out last week. And, it seems, the thief is still here!

Insurance has been paid, of course, but there's a matter of reputation. And personal honor. So: as soon as everything is cleared away, we shall see if the thief can stay hidden.

Seltheen Eeyunk is bored. Since the last caravan left 2 weeks ago, she has had no audience. The workers hoot at her stories, and they throw things when she tries to sing. And they're wise to her ferocious barbarian act, she knows better than to draw weapons on them.

And to make matters worse, they won't let her leave, Stebnik's orders. They've even searched her things twice. She should have left with the caravan. Now she sits grumpily against a large crate twanging a rinker hunting ballad on her fuunok.

Tumaresu Mosorik is scared. The pickings were so rich, she must have gotten careless. Her intention had been to join some group leaving the morning after, but before dawn, Stebnik's people were already rousting travelers and questioning them. And no one got out of town without a thorough search. Plus, it is rumored that Stebnik has lewawanian truth stones. No way she's going to let anyone display her secrets to public view.

For the moment, she is safe in her hiding place. The workers have already checked this crate and think it secure. But they don't know about the secret panel, no doubt installed by a merchant for use between customs inspections. But in two days, maybe three, they'll work their way over here, then she will have nowhere to hide.

So, in the darkness she huddles. What to do?

And what's that awful noise coming through the wall of the crate?

Not being able to think with all the racket going on around her, Tumaresu, or Tam as she likes to be called, decides to leave her tiny hideout and see what's going on. Tam takes nothing but her clothes, two daggers, and an old desert robe she previously procured. Wearing the robe over her clothes, she silently slips out of the crate.

Ok, now to try doing an impression of one of the many town derelicts. Tighten belt under robe, smudge face and hands, slump...

Coughing lightly, Tam shuffles around the crate.

Seltheen thinks to herself, "I gotta find a new line of work until I can blow this town..."

Since the last caravan left, she's been eating with the workers at Tom's invitation. But she camps outside at night, they don't want a smelly barbarian in the bunkhouse.

Tom is all right, she thinks in passing, young and brash, but with the heart of a wolf, any rinker clan would be happy to adopt him. That Wildfire though, "Erthaakwoo" in the gorvij tongue used in these northern parts, was tough and experienced, but with no heart at all. Indeed Seltheen is much more relieved than Stebnik is to be rid of that one. "Wildfire was just too quick with a comment or even a fist when I hit a wrong note", she reminds herself.

In any case, how can an able bodied rinker accept charity? That's against the Warrior Code. Doing some odd jobs doesn't count, it's not proper work.

Still thinking, "Well, if I can't leave, and singing ain't making it, the only other honorable option is to seek a formal position, one that involves my martial skills". Slowly she rises, stowing away her belongings in her various pouches and pockets and ever so lovingly wrapping the fuunok back up. Her fuunok is basic, it lacks the sweetness and sophistication of the models favored by professionals. But it's loud and more importantly, it's rugged. It needs no varnish, no silk, and no protective case, just a large pouch to be worn slung on the back. From the similarity to a common method of carrying small children, it's known as a babypack fuunok.

She spies Stebnik on the roof and smiles and starts looking around for Tom. She intends to demand that he enroll her as part of the night watch (which has become scandalously lax of late) or a scout, or even a hunter, by the Sacred Ancestors!

A hesitant grunt behind her. She turns and sees a bedraggled figure. It croaks at her "Sen, can ya spare a copper?"

Tam has been driven by curiosity to investigate the intruder of her thoughts and to test her masquerade with a limited audience. She should have been quicker to figure it out, but as the other turns Tam realizes that she recognizes this noisy person. A fellow outsider who might be as anxious to leave this seasonal dump as she herself is.

"Say, you're the rinker, aren't you?", Tam asks.

Seltheen notes that on this second utterance the voice is much stronger and the tone has changed from one of bored apathy to that of hopeful interest.

Seltheen pauses then replies to the ragged stranger.

"I'm afraid I can't spare anything. Nearly all the money I have is keeping myself alive and the remainder goes back to my clan."

She looks the other over in open curiosity. Hmm, no one she's seen before, and clearly not really a derelict. Someone in hiding then. The thief? Could be. But how to find out? It would help to have details but Stebnik had never said just what it was that was missing. And talking to the stubborn, domineering gorvij, was like trying to cut through wolfgrass! Come to think of it, he'd never been clear on what kind of reward was offered either. Gotta be careful, a poor honest barbarian could easily be cheated by these fast talking city slickers.

Well nothing to be lost by politeness. "I am Seltheen Eeyunk, Warrior of Clan Treekruu. How might I be of service to you?"

Tam finds the formal reserve of the tone somewhat incongruous with the apparent sincerity of the question. Well perhaps that is how rinkers are. She responds.

"Well met, Seltheen. I cannot blame you if you have little and do not feel able to share. I understand money is hard to come by, at this time. My name is Tam, i'm from Ijaleheks. That's the province on the other side of that rock wall. I decided to get out, see the world, but i missed the last caravan and then things got really unfriendly in this town all of a sudden. I just wanna stay out of everybody's way until i can get out of here."

So this Tam person "just wants to stay out of everybody's way", thinks Seltheen, yeah that seems about right. Trying her best to seem friendly while still maintaining proper rinker formality and distance, she decides to probe.

"It seems that there has been a theft of late and i fear that we shall all remain here until the item is recovered. Perhaps if the item were to be found, we would be allowed to go." She pauses thoughtfully attempting to portray her meaning as nonspecific.

Tam replies. "Well i certainly doubt the thief will be able to get out of town with the goods, given such a tight watch. But it is patently unfair that folks such as you and me should be penalized in the meantime!" She kicks at the ground, then looks up fiercely. "There must be a way out, no person of honor and self respect should accept such outrageous treatment! Well, i guess i'll have to look for a solution on my own." Once again assuming the attitude of a derelict, she shambles off.

Seltheen grits her teeth. That "person of honor and self respect" hit home. Yes, the Warrior Code certainly abhors this captivity. But there are no tribal elders here to demand an immediate hearing from, nor does she think Stebnik would accept a challenge to single combat. She looks at Tam's bent back. Did she do that on purpose?

Behind Stebnik's Inn there is a large brick patio. It has a huge oven a water pump with a trough, a couple of tables and a small metal stove. The stove is anchored to a framework supported by four metal poles stuck into the pavement. Above it is a tall pole with a brass bell.

Seltheen fumes quietly for a moment longer, then storms off in roughly the opposite direction from Tam. "It's still early", she thinks. "Maybe I can get Tom to provide me a way to earn keep until the thief is caught... I may have to wait, but I don't have to accept charity!"

Stebnik has been removing the stove with the aid of one of his workers. The stove was needed during caravan season to prepare short order meals while the permanent oven inside was used for wholesale preparation of regular dinners. It is superfluous now. Only about 40 people remain in town, not counting the derelicts.

Tam muses as she zigzags towards the edge of town. Nobody leaves. Including derelicts? It seems so, in any case derelicts don't seem to have any reason to leave. These are the long term down and out who've lost all self esteem and all hope. Barely conscious, they work mindlessly in exchange for food and drugs, usually the last of a batch of beer poured through the leavings of cocaine processing.

Stebnik dismounts the bell pole. He removes the bell and puts it in a crate. Now he and the worker fit an iron cage to the framework. A multipurpose fixture, that's peasant economics, he thinks to himself. How ironic that he, of noble antecedents, should know about such things while the bourgeois owners of the town do not. Indeed it often seems to him that the upper and lower classes have more in common with each other than either has with the upstart middle. And as for attitude, he sometimes thinks he prefers the open scorn and hatred of the revolution obsessed citizens of Ijaleheks to the phony unctuousness of the merchants.

With muffled grunts, he and the worker fit four large iron bells into the cage. These are gorvij sacred bells, another sore point.

The policy of the Violet Business Association is to minimize religious activity during the caravan season. "We will give the gods their due, of course, but doing so need not interfere with business", they explain. And so the Lesser Order of Worship, one small bell, once a day, is used. Nothing wrong with the Lesser Order, it's just that it is meant for situations in which the Greater Order is impractical, not merely inconvenient. But the merchants aren't being hypocritical, oh no. They all feel perfectly pious. Most have endowed a shrine or two, what more could the gods ask? "Capitalist pigs!", Stebnik mutters, using a phrase he learned from the ijalehektans.

Tam scans the town. She attempts to memorize details, hoping to come up with a plan. That rinker, now. If the two of them could work together maybe the odds would improve.

A shout and a snatch at her arm. She stiffens reflexively then forces herself to relax. A real derelict wouldn't resist. She turns. It's Tom. "Here, you lazy bum! See this pile? See those wheelbarrows? Fill them!"

As he turns to pick up a polishing cloth for the bells, Stebnik sees Seltheen standing there waiting. "Eh, rinker! We're going to have proper canonical hours now, what do you think of that?" "I think you should give me a job. I am a warrior, not a beggar. If you can't give me something to do, perhaps Tom can. I can hunt, track, guard, i can supervise the workers if necessary. I wish to help you solve the theft as well, but it would help if i knew what was stolen." The last comes out a bit petulantly.

Stebnik looks at her and shakes his head. "If i were to say what was stolen i'd have a lot of people claiming they remembered seeing it in one place or another and wanting a partial reward to start a wild goose chase. I can tell you it is a very valuable object, small enough for one person to carry but a bit bulky to conceal on one's person. If you see it, you'll know what it is, assuming of course that you are not the thief. Ah, spare me the song about your honor, i am not accusing you directly. However i am keeping everyone in town until this is resolved. You want to help, fine, but you have to be smart about it."

"I saw you approach one of the derelicts. That's a waste of time, we've already checked them all out, twice. None of them could be a thief and if they'd seen anything they wouldn't know what they saw. Do you know, there are free hostelries in Ijaleheks that take people like that? But they won't go because they'd have to sober up and they don't want to. Most of them are just going from fix to fix while waiting to die. The rest figure they're dead already and as long as they can stay zonked it's heaven. So we zonk them. Three times a day and bury them when they drop, which they will, all this month and next. None will make it to New Year's."

Tam sees that there are six other derelicts and five of the town's regular workers already on the job. The workers are finishing the demolition of several wooden shacks. The derelicts are mechanically scooping up the materials and loading wheelbarrows. One of them is bleeding from nails in the boards but doesn't seem to notice. Another manages to tip over a wheelbarrow and stands there confused until a third, apparently less far gone, rights it.

"I said work, clod! Now!" Tom cuffs her in the head. Hurriedly she joins the effort, sighing to herself. This is going to lose her valuable time. Not to mention that hard work is against her principles.

Stebnik wipes the bells reverently and then strikes each one lightly with a padded staff. They give off ponderous tones. Stebnik intones:

"These are the bells of the gods! These are the bells of our pride! These are the bells of freedom! These are the bells that ring true!"

Seltheen finds it rather dull. Gorvij sacred music requires even intervals and long syllables. Fortunately gorvij popular music makes up for it. Stebnik turns to look at her again.

"Since you insist... Shork!" The worker looks up from where she had stowing the stove in a crate. "Yes, Sen?" "Take the rinker to see Tom. Tell him to give her a regular job. She can also help look for the thief. But no night patrol!" To Seltheen he says "is there anything more? I am busy." "One more thing: what is the reward?" "It depends on who does the finding. For you, hmm, a good horse, you may pick it yourself from the spares in the stable. Good enough? Ok, go now."

"A job?", says Tom, "ok you've got a job! In the name of the Holy Lardbutts of the Violet Business Association, i name you Supervisor of Unskilled Labor, ie the derelicts. Here's your stick. Now see what these dummies are doing? Should be foolproof, but it isn't. Some of them keep forgetting to move stuff from the ground to the wheelbarrows and start doing it backwards. The stick will remind them. Now the job here is to move all the stuff over to that area way over there against the cliff wall, where it sort of curves, we call it the Back Corner. If you can get any of them to operate a wheelbarrow, have them do it, otherwise you'll have to wait for one of the regular workers. Every half hour you can give each of them one cupful from this bucket, it's beer and water. Around noon i'll bring the strong stuff for them. That's basically it, but you'll be saving me a lot of time."

Seltheen accepts the job. After taking Tom aside to ask a few questions she takes the stick and prods a derelict that seems to have fallen asleep in mid stoop.

The work is unchallenging. Make that tedious. She is pleased to discover that the mixture in the bucket is weak enough for her to drink. The Warrior Code forbids even the mildest of intoxication except for certain religious usage.

Sometime later, Tam pauses as a voice says "Break! Anyone who wants a drink, line up". She shambles over and manages to be first in line to accept a cup of awfully weak beer. Then she realizes that Tom is gone. In his place is the rinker Seltheen.

Seltheen has had some time to think. When Stebnik said they'd searched the derelicts already, her suspicions gelled.

Discovering Tam on the work crew fits in with her plans perfectly. She smiles to herself and silently thanks her ancestors for this gift as she hands the cup to Tam. "It is a dangerous game you seek to play, my clever handed friend", she says. "It would be wise to cut your losses and let the stolen item be returned or found anonymously..."

Then taking the cup back, "While you make up your mind, get back to work!" She gives Tam a quick swipe with the stick.

Tam glowers both at the blow and the words. She looks around quickly, the regular crew has moved on and the real derelicts are several paces behind, waiting for their beer. "Are you accusing me?" she says fiercely. "Am i?" replies Seltheen, "shall we ask Stebnik what he thinks? Someone might suggest he inventory the derelicts again."

Tam tries another tack. "I see you've come up in the world, is this your greatest ambition, to bully the feebleminded? Ah, that rinker spark! I was hoping you hadn't lost it. So. Let us say, for the sake of argument, that this item should be found, and you in some way responsible, what kind of reward is promised, if any?" "Stebnik will give me a horse. And i'll be able to leave this place on it!" "Oh, a horse, well, how wonderful! One well used workhorse for the bold warrior from the South!" She gives a scornful smirk. "Now listen! Do you know what the item is? Well it is, or so i've heard, extremely valuable. And something, not all that hard to sell. And so if, say, two people were to share the profits, two people who could work together for their mutual benefit, why a one half share would be enough to buy fine warhorses for a whole rinker clan! And these two people would retain their respective professional pride as well. You'll have to excuse me now, i see a wheelbarrow that needs filling."

Seltheen decides to keep an eye on Tam. When the ersatz derelict takes a wheelbarrow load to dump, she notes that it seems to take longer than it ought to. So she makes sure that Tam sticks to loading thereafter.

Tam seethes quietly. She's always hated labor, why couldn't she have come up with a less sweaty plan? Her trip to what the locals call the Back Corner was unfruitful. She saw the trail that leads east towards the Horsemeat Tavern, a rest stop half a day away. Riding that is. And the Corner itself, a shallow fold in the cliff wall on the south side of town where the building material is piled. She had momentarily considered and discarded the idea of breaking into one of the two adjacent storage caves. But the iron doors looked hopeless. At that point one of the town workers had kicked her and told her to get back to work.

Work, work work. Time passes with painful slowness...

BONGGG!   BONGGG!     BONGGG!       BONGGG!

The overlapping tones of the four bells announce noon. A worker brings sausage rolls for lunch. There is also more beer, stronger this time, and mixed with cocaine. Tam finishes off the weaker beer left from the morning. The worker also shares a large bowl of spaghetti with Seltheen.

Tom comes up. He says "bring them in, we've decided they should attend services".

So the derelicts are hustled over to the space behind the inn, now serving as a chapel with the addition of a portable shrine. Tom begins pushing derelicts over to the benches. "Sit straight in the presence of the gods, you lot, the chaplain wants you to receive spiritual benefit!" Chaplain? Sure enough one of the workers is now wearing the purple sash of a neophyte priest of the Gorvij Helpers.

Quickly while everyone else is preoccupied, Tam sidles up to Seltheen and whispers fiercely in her ear. "Look, i've got a deal for you. I have a plan, and i want you to hear me out. If you will agree to my proposal we can both be rich! And if you don't agree, well, i'll help you find the lost article and you can collect that magnificent steed from Stebnik. So how about it? You've got nothing to lose. Just find us somewhere private."

Seltheen hears Tam out, then pushes her roughly. "Silence! This mewling of yours is disrespectful to the Most Honored Helpers and Protectors! Sit!"

In point of fact, most rinkers have little use for the gorvij Helpers, gods of the arts and trades, and of the home. These are not the concerns of warriors. As for the Protectors, the Counselor and the Old Warrior seem too distant, unlikely to appreciate the harsh realities of mortal life. But Tremek, or the Young Warrior, as he is called, is a different sort. He was once mortal, and earned his place in the pantheon through his leadership of the rebellion against ferevee domination. Not so different from the rinker worship of worthy ancestors, after all. Bless me, Tremek, she thinks, i too am a young warrior seeking freedom.

Tam takes her seat with a shrug. Growing up as she had, in labor socialist Ijaleheks, didn't make for much piety. The general thought is that the gods are driven by whim. If they can be of help, that is very well, but where were they in the centuries before the Revolution, when their priests preached the sanctity of the old order?

The service starts with a hymn, sung by the chaplain, Stebnik, and Tom. It's very typical of gorvij sacred music, slow and dull. A few of the workers hum along occasionally joining in when they remember snatches of lyrics.

Then the chaplain exhorts everyone, in this month of celebration and remembrance, to renew their ties to the gods, the community, and the "...great traditions that have guided the gorvijes throughout the generations..." Carried away by his own rhetoric, the chaplain doesn't seem to notice not everyone present is a gorvij.

After some more of the same, the chaplain goes on to declare that the gods want everyone to have a meaningful and fulfilling life. nothing is hopeless if you have faith and perseverance. That seems to be an exhortation to the derelicts but they don't respond. Well says the chaplain, whoever wishes personal attention can contact him at any time. The service ends with another song, this one a rousing anthem with plenty of references to blood, fire and glory. Most of the workers join in. One of the derelicts stands up and begins howling like a wolf. Seltheen's fingers twitch, here is a song she'd like to learn, it has potential.

After the song, several workers approach the shrine and make signs of personal devotion. Stebnik is on his knees before the crown emblem of the Old Warrior. Tom salutes the sword emblem of the Young Warrior, then turns to Seltheen. "You can take them away now." Seltheen nods and begins herding derelicts. She kicks Tam. "Now this time you are going to work, not slack off like you did this morning!" She'll see about finding a chance to talk later, for now she needs to keep up her reputation. Besides, pushing Tam around is fun!

Tam grudgingly goes back to work. Work? Oh the agony! the brutality! And the humiliation of having Seltheen treat her like a donkey. But, she hopes, it's for a good cause, getting out of this place. As she works she plans her out her spiel.

Evening comes. The derelicts are driven back towards the inn where they will receive their sustenance. Seltheen trips Tam. "Ok, now" she whispers "just pretend you're having trouble standing up, while i pretend i'm trying to help." She looks quickly around. One of the workers is looking back, she tells him to go on, she'll take care of this. He shrugs and continues herding the other derelicts. The two are alone. Seltheen turns back to Tam. "Now speak!"

"Very well. First: what reward has Stebnik offered for the return of the artifact? A worn out nag, a few bits of gold and the 'honor' of being allowed to leave town." the sarcasm would be apparent to a deaf beggar.

"Well i have it on good faith his missing item is very valuable. Of far more value than that pitiful reward would show. Imagine if someone could get this item to someone who could truly appreciate its value and offer a truly honorable reward?"

The rinker speaks quickly, before she can continue. "We have hunted this carcass already, is there any fresh quarry?"

Tam stops, flustered at having her build up interrupted. "Well, u-h-h This item could be hidden out in the desert near the east trail. If someone who knew horses could take 1 or 2, right out of town, stopping only long enough to recover the item, that would be something special wouldn't it? A deed for the ballads? And no more putting up with veiled slurs on one's honor, no more bowing to an overblown barkeep, who only wants what's best for himself."

"Indeed. But i am still waiting to hear a plan".

"I have a plan, let me finish! We take the horses, i mean the good ones they keep in the stable, not the common lot in the corral. The stable is locked, but it so happens i can handle that. And all we need to do is to get the guards away for a bit, in the middle of the night. Tonight, i mean."

"And you can do that?"

"Easily. I'll start a small fire in the barracks at the north end of town. That's where the workers live. They keep the flowers there too. Oh yes, the famous violets that the town was named for. The violets of Violet Junction guide travelers through the desert by their odor. At this time of year most of them are in the rooftop greenhouses.

Tam continues. "If the barracks catch on fire they'll be sure to bring all their people to put it out."

This begins to sound more reasonable to Seltheen. This is somewhat like a traditional rinker horse raid. "Go on" she says.

"That's where you come in. After i start the fire, you can run over to the corral and stable area, and tell the guards they have to help, say it may even be an attack, don't give them time to think. Then meet me in front of the stable door. Once the locks are open the horses are ours. And we can take the finest, er you can, i am sure your judgment is sound. afterward all we need to do is recover the item and leave Violet Junction behind."

"So, is boldness or meekness the order of the day?"

Seltheen has remained visibly impassive through the explanation.

Now she keeps a tight rein on her emotions as she considers Tam's plans. Yes, the night patrol has gotten lax recently, although they always check on her. Certainly if a diversion could be arranged they would most likely fall for it.

But who in the Rinks would have thought of a threat to potted violets as constituting a diversion? Seltheen smiles at the incredible value these people put on a bunch of purple posies...

She stays still a moment longer to keep Tam off balance. Suddenly she snaps out "And just how long is it going to take for the lock to magically open? And the item to appear once we get to it? It seems that much of any delay will find us on the wrong end of numerous archers. Boldness is one thing. Charging into a slaughter is quite another."

"There will be no delay. The lock is simple, i have already studied it. The item is easily retrieved. And we will be charging away from danger, not into it."

"You seem very confident. All right, you make your move first, and i will follow. But if it does not go off smoothly, i warn you, i will be just as surprised as the guards at your attack."

With that, Seltheen drags Tam to her feet and propels her forward. Inside the inn, she surreptitiously makes sure that Tam gets an extra helping of bread and broth, strength will be needed later. And she pours plain water rather than the drug mixture the others get.

After dinner, the derelicts are prodded outside. No one watches them closely, they won't be going far, just into the nearest nooks or corners to drop into their dreams. Tam slips back into her crate, Seltheen returns to her tent outside the barracks.

Time passes.

Seltheen is stretched out, pretending to sleep, when she hears an incoming patrol on their way back to the barracks.

Someone calls out "Hey you, stand still! What are you-- miserable bum, get away from here! If your happy juice won't help you sleep, i've got something that will!"

Tam's disguise still seems to be working.

The moon's not very high yet, but Seltheen can make out the form of her unlikely partner, as she shambles away from the guards. Seltheen sits up a bit more and watches the dark shape of the barracks.

After what seems far too long, she sees a small flame on the roof.

Seltheen makes one last check to make sure as much of her belongings are ready as possible. Armor on, but unlaced. Backpack packed and laced. Instrument carefully bundled. Etc. She waits a few moments more watching for Tam, watching the flames, and listening for any other "hue and cry".

Tam has one encounter on her way to the barracks, but escapes with just a halfhearted kick. Still pretending to be a derelict she zigzags away, then circles back. Judging where she thinks the patrols are most likely to be, she puts the building between herself and them to buy time.

Climbing up to the roof of the barracks is easy. Tam lights a torch and finds a pile of wood shavings in a corner. Perfect! She leaves the torch on the pile and climbs back down.

The next stage doesn't go very smoothly. It takes her 5 tries to find a spot where she can start burning the wood of the building itself. By then the flame on the roof has become visible. Tam finds herself doing a snake imitation to avoid being spotted as a sharp eyed rider comes back in shouting urgently.

It takes another interminable length of time before Seltheen sees another flame. But almost immediately afterward someone comes riding in, obviously in a hurry. Not wanting to have someone wonder what she's doing up, Seltheen decides on a preemptive move. She steps into the rider's path, waves her arms then turns and points. "Fire!" she calls out "warn the barracks, i'm going for help!" "I see the fire, get out of my way!" The rider hurries past. Pity, that was one of the best horses, she'd hoped it would be in the stable.

There are 3 people in front of the stable. Seltheen runs up and gives her warning. But they're a little drunk and it takes her a while to persuade them to action. Finally one of them says, "Gods above, someone's got to tell Stebnik!" This realization makes them try to stand straight. "You do it, barbarian, he can't dock your wages!" She wants to object but realizes they won't move otherwise. So she agrees and start heading in that direction. But she has no intention of waking the spiteful old man, he'd be sure to keep a close eye on her. Instead she rushes to her tent, quickly knocks it down and wraps it tightly around her belongings.

Coughing dust and almost too weak to stand, Tam reaches the stable door. No sign of Seltheen. which is good because the lock puts up a fight. She ends up having to hammer it with a dagger hilt until the mechanism becomes bent inside, then using her lockpick to dissect the tumblers. She gets it open, but it is now unusable. This hurts her professional pride.

Seltheen arrives, looking disgruntled, a bulky bundle under one arm, just as Tam opens the door. With a superior smirk she indicates the interior. Seltheen brushes by her and enters without a word.

Seltheen decides her ancestors must be having a little joke. Although the two horses she chooses are hearty and sound, they are not the best she's seen in town, all of those must be out. Well it can't be helped.

Tam watches outside. From the interior, she hears those silly clucking noises people make to horses. Finally Seltheen brings out two, saddles them, and practically throws her onto one of them. Tam, who has little experience of riding, gets a death grip on the mane and lets Seltheen pull the reins to lead the horse behind hers. Distant shouting indicates that attention is still on the fire. "Which way?" demands Seltheen. Tam points, and they start off.

10 paces north of a certain cactus? It's like a bad adventure novel, thinks Seltheen. Ok, she watches as Tam digs, grumbling. In the distance she senses a shift in the activity. Someone is sure to find their trail soon. How deep is the loot buried?

Tam unearths a cloth bundle about the size and shape of a small shield. Well now let's see what all the trouble was for. Seltheen snatches the bundle from her and opens it.

Even by moonlight, the gleam makes her blink. Seltheen finds herself holding a mask made of some dark glossy material. The two eyes and mouth are simply indicated by stark lines. But they convey an impression of inscrutable aloofness, like a deity too great and powerful to notice mortals. And around the rim of the mask are 18 perfectly matched white diamonds. She rewraps the mask and stows it in a saddlebag.

Tam stifles a protest at the arrogance of the rinker appropriating the treasure like that. She certainly have something to say later, but now there's no time. "This way, we must get out of sight quickly!" she says, indicating the trail that leads eastward towards Lewawan. She clumsily kicks her horse into a sedate stride, only to be stopped short as the lead tightens. "Come on!" she hisses.

Seltheen shrugs and brings her horse around. She gets a quick glance back and sees what Tam did not: the movement of torches. She considers her companion's lack of experience with horses, compared Stebnik's people. They have experience and the better horses. And among their number are two from the gorvij province of Waksehert, infamous for their skill with longbows. The chance of escape seems dubious. Time to make a decision.

"Well at least we're getting out of here at last" thinks Tam. She watches Seltheen move to take the lead. Suddenly Seltheen brandishes her flying pennant, the traditional rinker bastard sword, and attacks!

Reflexively Tam yanks on her horse's mane. It rears, nearly dropping her. But Seltheen's descending stroke misses its target and cuts the lead line instead. Tam gropes for the reins and manages to get her horse under control. But she can't get it to go forward. Desperately Tam pulls out a dagger while dodging swordstrokes. What's gotten into that halfwitted barbarian? She throws her dagger but it goes wide. Seltheen sneers and strikes again, scoring along the ribs of Tam's horse. She's attacking the horse? That's not fair! Somehow Tam manages to keep her seat as she produces her backup dagger. She throws it, this time at Seltheen's horse, striking it in the neck. As Seltheen's horse stumbles back, Tam draws her saber and slaps her horse's rump with the flat. Gallop, you mangy rug, gallop! She manages to achieve a trot.

Seltheen steadies her horse, somewhat surprised that her initial attack failed. She sees that Tam has moved ahead and is picking up speed. A feral grin lights up her face with the joy of combat. Well now, shall it be the bow? Nah, use the naginata. She slips it under her arm and charges.

Between lack of skill and looking behind her, Tam can't get away. But she manages to pull aside as the rinker overtakes her. Again her horse takes a glancing blow. And this time it actually puts on a spurt of speed. Seltheen, who had reined in to turn around, is caught by surprise as Tam passes her. She chops with the naginata but misses. There is a short exchange during which Tam's horse receives a slight cut. Tam, lacking reach, is unable to exploit any opening, but she manages to pass her blade in front of the eyes of Seltheen's horse which panics. As Seltheen struggles to control it, Tam finally achieves a respectable gallop.

"Not good enough, thief. Not nearly good enough!" Seltheen mutters under her breath as she prepares to charge again.

Tam calls back to her. "Stop this madness, Rinker! If you have a beef we can discuss it later! But if you persist, you'll only get us both caught by Stebnik's people!"

Seltheen ignores Tam's plea. In her estimation it's already to late so-- Stebnik's people will find a dead thief and a vindicated rinker warrior.

As Seltheen begins to close again, Tam decides to save her breath and concentrate on speed. She throws her arms around the horse's neck and puts her head down, not bothering with directions, just kicks. Her horse veers a little, but the softer, uneven ground is not inviting so it quickly returns to the path. Seltheen runs into the dust cloud raised. With a quick swipe she wipes her eyes and tightens her hood.

Tam's horse seems to have finally settled on a constant speed. To Seltheen's surprise it pulls ahead. Soon they are both in an all out run. When Seltheen's horse half stumbles, she realizes that this is dangerous for her too, the moonlight is strong but doesn't show all the ruts. Ok, then, one last burst of speed, stand in the stirrups, make the horse rear. Now hurl the naginata high, to come down in front of Tam's horse. This is a very dirty trick by rinker standards, and will require some sort of penance, especially if the horse has to be killed.

There is a sharp crack as the horse trips over the shaft of Seltheen's weapon. It rears and does a sort of hop, then skids into a dune.

Seltheen brings her mount to a stop and leaps off, sword in hand. Tam's horse is a little skittish, it backs away from her panting. She closes with a rush and pokes at Tam's robe hunched over on the saddle. It's empty.

Seltheen drops to her knees. No tracks. She rises and, remembering her obligation, gives Tam's horse a quick pat down. One nasty welt, possibly a bone bruise, otherwise it's ok. Good. Leading both horses, she half jogs, half walks, back the way she came. The head of the broken naginata is in her saddlebag.

Still no tracks. But there are plenty of marks that could be the marks of a body sliding or crawling, say after rolling out of a robe while galloping. Choosing the most likely, Seltheen leaves the trail.

No luck, the sands are a patchwork of low dunes and dark shadowed hollows. Nothing stirs.

"You scum! You cowardly thief of a gorvij offal picking tongue tied drunken saddle sore worthless spawn of disgraced unremembered ancestors! Come out and fight like a warrior!"

No response. Bah, no one with any honor would have let that tirade pass. Seltheen returns to the trail and remounts.

Tam lies somewhere in the dark, silent and unmoving. Good, Seltheen's shouts will bring most of the searchers together. Time to double back and try a desperate plan, an escape route only an ijalehektan would think of.

Seltheen realizes she's too tired to go on much longer. Very well then, as the rinker aphorism puts it: "make a plan that requires you to be where you are".

She heads back for town as quickly as possible, while taking the best care of both horses possible. As she approaches the searchers, she gives vent to a blood-curdling rinker victory cry.

Tom and the others look around in alarm, then they see her coming, starkly outlined by the moonlight, leading two limping horses and holding something aloft that flashes like a cluster of stars.

Behind a pile of boards in the Back Corner, Tam fumbles with a bucket of water. She has a secret weapon. Washing her face will reveal it.

"I found your thief!", Seltheen declares as she reaches the search party. Now that they can all see the mask clearly, they are all struck speechless. Except Tom. "Give me that!" he snaps. Seltheen puts it back in its cloth wrapping. "I will turn it over to Stebnik only", she replies. "Now, someone help with these horses, for they have been used hard and require proper attention." Two of the workers take the leads. As they head for the stables, Seltheen makes a show of rubbing them down as she speaks.

"It was a nasty business, there. The cowardly snake dared not face the wrath of a rinker warrior and fled. But she was no rider and i easily overtook her and i called upon her to surrender and accompany me back to the town. But then! (spits) Then she attacked my horse, a villainous trick, just the sort of thing a person of no honor and little skill might do! Then i used my naginata to knock her out of the saddle, since i wanted to take her alive. She fell but got up quick, and threw a dagger at my horse-- see, there? But she was so clumsy her attempts to remount made her horse stumble and it fell and hurt itself. My horse had reared because of the dagger and while i was getting it under control she went for her saddlebag. That's where the mask was. Well i chased her and i would have caught her but she threw it. The mask i mean. I didn't know what it was but i knew it must be what everyone was after, so i went after it instead."

"The mask ended up in a drift of sand, it would have been buried by morning. But thanks to the Sacred Ancestors, i found it in time. I found it, and i brought it back, and i claim the reward! Too bad the thief got away, she--"

"`She'", repeats Tom, who is this `she' and how come we didn't find her? How do we know she even exists? I'll tell you what i think. You stole the mask, and now you want the credit for returning it!"

With a fierce expression Seltheen claps her hand to her sword hilt as if to draw then stops and removes her hand. Then through clenched teeth she says "i'll ignore that, for you are a gorvij and perhaps you do not know what a grave insult to my honor that is. But hear me, other rinkers may not be so forbearing. Now: the mystery woman called herself Tam when i first saw her, could she be a relative of yours? Ah i see, you have some honor of your own, well don't be so quick to impugn that of others."

But she was a gorvij and she's been right under your nose all the time, disguised as one of your mindless derelicts. I became suspicious of her when i first saw her working. That's when i asked her name. She mumbled and drooled like the others but it looked like an act. So i figured i'd watch her some more, see if she slipped up. Then when that fire started, as i was on my way to wake Stebnik, i saw her sneak into the stable and steal a horse. There was no time to do anything else but follow, so i did."

They continue on to the stables, where Seltheen insists on completing her attentions to the horses. Then and only then, she declares, she will take the mask to Stebnik. So everyone waits while Seltheen and the regular stablehands apply poultices and lotions.

Stebnik is sitting at a table in the common room of the inn. When Seltheen proffers the mask, he takes it without a word, then runs outside. He's gone for 10 minutes and when he comes back he looks almost happy. "It's locked away safely" he says "i will send it on tomorrow". "We can't get a courier that fast" Tom objects. "Not a regular courier, we'll send a thivdaad. I want you to run up the signal flag now so it will be seen as early as possible." Tom goes to comply. Fortunately Stebnik has a good relationship with the enigmatic flying creatures.

The workers begin to trickle in and curl up on the floor to sleep. For now the barracks is unusable. The two waksehertian archers hover near one of the doors, eyeing Seltheen speculatively until Stebnik waves them away. Seeing that he isn't speaking to her just now, she shrugs and goes out to see to her own hurts and find a quiet spot for her sleeping bag.

Tam stands over a fallen body, listening intently. Good, no one seems to have heard. Now comes the hard part. She looks up into the darkness.

Morning comes. Stebnik has ordered a meeting at the inn. Everyone's cranky from the events of last night and the inadequate sleep afterward.

Breakfast is international, gorvij sausage rolls and nildrer ration bars washed down with waujak coffee, a combination hard on head and stomach, but no one feels like cooking.

One of the archers enters, towing another worker by the arm. "It's Arnerath, Boss. I reckon you noticed he never came in last night. Well i found him sneaking in just now, looks like he was in a fight." Indeed, the cringing figure of Arnerath has crusted blood in his hair some of which has trickled down his face. He looks as if he wishes he could disappear. Stebnik stands up, crosses the room and bellows at him. "Where have you been? What happened? Why didn't you report in earlier?" Arnerath just stutters incoherently.

Some questioning of the others reveals that Arnerath had been posted to watch the area of the waterfall. Apparently no one wanted him on the firefighting team or with the searchers. And since the great waterwheel powered elevator is parked at the top of the cliff with the grating closed, no one was going to make a quick getaway there, all the person on guard had to do was yell. No one had heard him yell.

"Well" Stebnik addresses Arnerath again, "what happened?" "It wasn't my fault Boss, it was a fer--" "What?" demands Stebnik. A fer-fer-fer--" "Oh Gods" interjects the archer, rolling his eyes, "Arn saw a ferevee again. Dangit Arn, you promised to stay sober after the last time!" "No, it's true!" Arnerath sobs, apparently having found his voice at last. "A real live fer-ferevee, big as, as, that door! With one of those whipswords, i'm lucky to be alive!" "Uh huh, what did this ferevee do? She made me lie down on the ground and then she must have hit me in the head. I only just now woke up, honest."

Stebnik's face has begun purpling. "Check out the elevator area!" he roars. The archer rushes away. No one speaks out loud for some time, although there is plenty of whispering. Could it be? What if? Come on, it's just Arn the Doper, halfway to the zombie squad himself, couldn't identify his own shadow. But he's never been like this, and you know, there've been, incidents. Yeah, a whole lot more `throwbacks' than the authorities will admit to. Creepy! Shivers and nervous looks go around the room.

Seltheen tries to keep from smirking. The attitude of the gorvijes toward their ancient oppressors is pathetic. Again and again, she has seen it, say `ferevee' to a crowd of gorvijes: most of them will blanch, others will go for weapons. A few will wet themselves, and some will faint. Some will show no reaction at all, which will get them accused of being themselves ferevee in disguise. Or at least of being throwbacks, gorvijes born with ferevee features.

It's all too complicated for a poor barbarian to understand. Fight at all costs, retreat if you absolutely must or die where you stand, but don't let your own thoughts become your enemy. But these cityfolk are too sophisticated for such simple advice. They say the ferevee are all gone. They say the ferevee are back. They say the ferevee are all around us, hiding out. Bah! She'll worry about ferevee if she ever meets one.

The archer returns, carrying a rope and a prybar. "Recognize this?" he says, waving the prybar under Arnerath's nose. "It's the one you normally use. Know where i found it? It was wedged into the Old Ascent, 5 meters up, with this rope attached to it." A look of grudging admiration appears on his face. "Whoever it was had to throw the bar up there in the dark, hard enough to catch in the crack, without making too much noise. I also found some blood smears and shreds of clothing."

"So" Stebnik begins slowly, "our thief is gone, thanks to Arn." He leans forward and backfists Arnerath on the side of the face, knocking him to the ground. "You're fired! Now! Tom will pay you off, and someone will drive you to Horsemeat Tavern. You'll be on your own after that."

"Say", interjects Seltheen. "What is the Old Ascent?" "It's a narrow crack" the archer replies "starts out small, 3 meters from the ground, widens into a chimney further up. Before the elevator was made it was the only way up. People used to carry stuff between here and Ijaleheks and they say it killed a hundred people a year. That was when there were metal rings set in it. Nah, i know what you're thinking, forget it. Warrior, as you keep reminding us, you're too heavy. Though i wouldn't mind seeing you try!" He mimes drawing a bow on an overhead target.

Seltheen stifles a retort, they'd only laugh at her. If she'd known about this before, she could have gotten away days ago. Or not, true she was no climber but it would have been nice to have another option to consider.

"Simmer down" says Stebnik. "We have two people, both female, one gorvij and normal sized, one a giant ferevee. Considering the source", he says glancing at Arnerath, "i'd say it's a match. You are free to go, Warrior." He uses the term without sarcasm or irony.

"Now, as to your reward, i'll tell you what: take both horses. Tom will make sure you have plenty of provisions and you may leave whenever you like."

Seltheen bows, grabs the last two sausage rolls, and heads out the door. She'd leave this minute except for the wounded mounts. She intends to take the road east and doesn't intend to make a donation at Horsemeat Tavern. Noon will be soon enough.

Far above Violet Junction, Tam stirs. The bench outside the People's Glorious Revolutionary Elevator Complex is hard, but in her exhausted state she slept soundly. Now the aches and pains of last night's run and fight, along with the abrasions from the desperate climb, are clamoring for her attention. It's just as well, before anyone else arrives she'll need to hide her features.

Her ferevee features.

She's not very big and she carries no whipsword, trefoil dagger, or any of the other brutal weapons of the old ferevee. She just has their face. Last night, that face was enough to render a guard helpless with terror. That's reality for a throwback, no matter how gorvij she feels inside, it's the ferevee people tend to react to. And even though it was a matter of survival it sickens her to remember what she did.

She opens up her pack and gets out the dye.