Monoliths #4g: A chat with Aiana and Deshana

[Gurns]

Aiana said, “Have you seen this before, Gurns? It was given to me by a farmer.”

She handed me a piece of paper. On it, the following words:

The time is drawing near. Soon you will be called upon to defend the Realms once
more, but the cause needs leaders. Raise the call. Bring men to your banner.
Rally the Heroes of Faerun. First you must look to your own. The City of
Splendors is in danger. Dark forces plot against you all. The assassin master
Kang schemes with the forces of the Vile One to invade from below. If nothing is
done, the city will burn.

Rally to the cause.
-A Friend

“A farmer, eh?” I said, consideringly. “Well, in disguise, or just a messenger.” I gave the paper back to Aiana.

“Perhaps both,” she said, in her refined, womanly voice.

A disguised messenger? “That's too subtle for me!” I said.

Aiana snickered.

“Nice to see that they recognize you as a leader!”

She raised an inquiring eyebrow.

I shrugged. “Well, I haven't received one. And I doubt it's thru an oversight.”

Aiana was dubious. “I cannot say I agree with their judgment. I am just a warrior. I do my part as any other does.”

“I have seen you lead,” I reminded her. True, it hadn’t been anything too dangerous, but she had managed sufficiently well. And she had an air of authority about her. Of course, she was taller than me by more than half a foot, but I’ve never been fooled into mistaking height for authority or competence.

I quoted from the note. "’Raise the call.’ ‘Rally heroes.’ Yes, definitely, they think you are the leadership type.”

She shrugged. “Sounds like words meant for another. I will fight my part and contribute what I can.”

I reminded here, “Some are born leaders, others achieve leadership. Still others have leadership thrust upon them.” An old saying, but true, nonetheless. “So long as you contribute what you can, who can ask for more?” And of course, that “can” might include leading.

“Agreed,” she said. “Have you heard any other word?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. The last three monoliths are still quiet.”

Aiana said, “I shall have to inquire with that Calimport rogue... What's his name... Cirak... Ciroh...”

He was standing right there. I pointed.

“Cirath,” I said. I sneered. “He doesn't know much more than me.”

Cirath said, paternally, “Now, now, Gurns, no need to be unfriendly.”

At that point, Deshana wandered in, and nodded a greeting to us all.

I bowed low, and said “Lady Deshana!” Everyone exchanged a few pleasantries. Well, Cirath was there, so I use the term loosely.

I said “You should show your paper to Deshana, Aiana. Perhaps she knows something.”

Aiana agreed. “Perhaps,” she said, and handed the sheet of paper to Deshana. “I was given that earlier today.” She explained, “A wandering farmer passed that to me. Not sure if this was truly meant for me or perhaps mistaken.”

Deshana assured her, “It was meant for you.”

I agreed. “Have no doubts, it was meant for you. For who could mistake you?”

Aiana looked at me suspiciously. “What are you trying to say?”

Didn’t she know what a striking appearance she presented? “You are unique, Lady. I would say more, but it would sound like empty, obvious, overdone flattery.”

Aiana still looked suspicious, but was that a twinkle in her eye? “Flattery, huh?”

Very well, if it’s flattery she wants… “Were I an artist, I would beg, moan, weep, and wail, until you posed for a painting or a sculpture. As I bard, I would say in words... But words could not possibly convey your presence. Thus, I stand silent. Tongue-tied. Mute. Speechless.”

Aiana smirked. She, very obviously, brushed some dust off her garments. Clearly, she had been traveling recently. But a little dirt or dust is hardly sufficient to disguise anyone’s true appearance.

Cirath grinned widely, looking very amused. “Ah, Gurns, you are many things, but never mute,” he said, with a wink.

How could I resist? I answered, “Well, some have said that before, Cirath, but I think it a mute point.”

He groaned. I thanked him.

Larim had been listening to our conversation. He interjected, “For a bard, yer awful long winded, Gurns.”

I said, “I? Never! I say as much is necessary, then stop.”

I said, “I'm not like some people, jabbering away, on and on with no point to it.”

I said, “No, I say my piece, then shut up. Quiet. Not talking any more.”

Cirath asked, “You’ve known bards that weren't longwinded, Larim?”

Cirath smirked, waved, and left. Apparently. A quick verse confirmed that, yes, he’d actually gone.

“At any rate…” Deshana finally could get a word in. Addressing Aiana, she said, “M'lady, I don't know you but you seem a capable warrior. Which is in all honesty what we have a sore lack of, among those who listen to the currents in the winds.”

“Quite capable, she is,” I said. “And a leader, though she seems doubtful.”

Deshana said “I am not the kind of leader needed for this, as I was not the kind needed for Orcus.”

“Nor I,” I said. “Nor is Cirath. Not often, anyway.”

It was odd, though. I wondered, “Hmm, who would be helping gather leaders? It's not me. Not by passing notes, anyway. And it is not Cirath's usual sort of operation.”

Deshana said “Many…” She stopped abruptly, and looked around the room uneasily.

I whispered to her, “Perhaps we should go someplace and talk in private?”

Deshana nodded, and looking at Aiana, said “I will be in the restaurant off the Bazaar.”

I followed Deshana to the restaurant. A quick verse confirmed that we were alone. Well, except for the waiters.

Deshana noticed my glance at them. “A great many secrets have been revealed in this place.”

I shrugged. If she thought it was safe, well enough. I ordered a glass of wine – from Hamid of Calimport, if they had it – and Deshana ordered a pot of tea. We sat at a table, where we could keep on eye on the entrance. And for me, on eye on the waiters as well.

We talked of many things. Some, about my stories. Some, about who might be passing out the notes, trying to rally the heroes. Some, about who might lead the military battle against the Vile One. Some, about the nature of truth.

She spoke more of her visions, and how they started. Not so much to tell me, I think, as to tell someone, to perhaps heal her soul a bit more.

“My visions haven't been enjoyable,” she said.

“I had never imagined they were,” I said. I had only had some of her visions, and none of them were enjoyable. I didn’t imagine her other visions were different.

“They have been constant,” she added.

“Even worse,” I sympathized.

“At one point Ssazz Tam of Thay was wanting the rings.” She paused. “How much of my visions are merely nightmares after that experience, I cannot say.”

That, perhaps, I could help her with. “How many of your visions have come true?” I asked. I knew the answer. “Many, yes?”

Deshana said, “Yes.”

“How many are still of the future. Many, yes?”

She nodded.

“They may be nightmares, Lady, but I doubt me if they are merely nightmares.” I didn’t ask which was worse: Horrible nightmares, or horrible nightmares that came true.

“The fires and terror in the depths of the monoliths….” Her voice trailed off. “I've also seen Nilan executed many ways in many places by many people.. including his own Vhaeraun.”

“Ah,” I said. “Now you see possibilities. Or perhaps nightmares. Or perhaps the truth.”

I added, “I only sometimes envy you your visions, Lady.”

At this point, Aiana entered the restaurant, and Deshana invited her to re-join us. Aiana removed shield and axe, mask and crown and gauntlets, and sat down. “Ah,” she said, in some relief.

“I am glad you could join us, Lady,” Deshana said.

“Thank you,” Aiana answered. “You honor me with your presence, Lady of the Forests.”

Deshana said, “I can think of three sources for the note. Gantoris, the Harpers, and Tsakchanar herself.”

Aiana pointed out, “A wandering farmer passed that to me.”

I asked, “Was it a really big farmer? Scaly?” I giggled.

Aiana wasn’t amused. “I doubt I made a deep enough impression on the dragon to stay in memory.”

“You've met?” I hadn’t known that.

Deshana said, 'Tsakchanar is… very well connected,” and gave me a significant glance. Which I didn’t understand.

Aiana said, “So it seems.”

I said, “Yes, obviously, anyone who is anyone has met her. I'd just like to point out, I haven't.”

Aiana snickered, and said, “I thought you had.”

“Not I.”

Aiana pondered, “Hrm. Must be dying to meet you,I am sure.”

“No doubt,” I said. “So many are.”

Deshana said, 'It will come, I'm sure.” No, I don’t think it was a vision, just an assumption.

Aiana said, “How could one not wish to know a Gurns? You play such lovely tunes.”

Evidently I’m not the only one who can dish out flattery. But of course I agreed. “That's what I say, but some folks insist they can do without.”

Aiana assured me, “They just don't know what they are missing.”

Well, wasn’t this nice? A fan! But, back to business. “Three sources for your note, Aiana,” I said.

Deshana took the hint. “Tsakchanar has the ability to take the form of a human or elven woman of advanced age. No doubt she can also take other forms.”

Deshana added, “She’s also... loosely allied with Corellon.”

Aiana thought a moment. “Corellon. That names strikes a bell in my memory.”

I started to explain. “Some sort of elvish god.'”

I think Deshana didn’t care for my tone. She said, “The father of the elven race, the head god of the elven pantheon.”

“Probably like all elves and all gods,” I said. “Not someone you'd want to invite to a casual get-together.”

Deshana looked at me severely, but merely said, “It might be noted that Corellon is also the father of the drow race.”

“And he's really pleased about it, too.” I snickered.

Aiana evidently does not have the usual prejudices, and said, “Every person makes their own path. I will not condemn an entire race for blatant generalities.”

Deshana continued, “Nonetheless they are putting their hands into this cookie jar we're in.”

I asked, “The gods? The drow?” Then I realized, “Hmm, probably both, never mind.”

Deshana said, “Both. Vhaeraun’s priest has been sending messages that could provoke a gods war here on Toril.”

That sounded very bad. “Sending messages? To whom?”

Deshana said, “Cyric.”

Hamid had mentioned something that I wondered about. “I have been told that Vhaeruan's priest is in a true alliance with the illithids. Not the usual ‘drow using the illithids using the drow’, but a real alliance.”

Deshana nodded. “They are united, yes. My own order confirms that.”

The three of us discussed this for some time. This new development between drow, or at least some drow, and some illithid. The usual alliance among the surface races. The lack of a General to lead the good races.

Some recent history as well. The resurrection of Orcus, by another demon, disguised as Welkanezus. The resurrection of the children, by Welkanezus, later on. We were speaking of trying to find him, when a young barbarian dashed into the restaurant.

Aiana saw him, stood up, and put on her crown. He came over, saluted, and said “Ma’am, you are needed. The troops in the north required your immediate assistance.”

Aiana nodded, looked at us, and said “Forgive me, friends, I must assist my friends of the north. I cannot do otherwise.”

We understood, of course. Deshana offered to speed them on their travels. I offered my own help.

Aiana looked at the young barbarian, who said “All the arrangements are done.”

Aiana declined our assistance. “I am sure Azum and I can handle it, but your offer is greatly appreciated.”

They left.

Hmm, interesting. I said, “Perhaps she has an army we can borrow.”

Deshana shrugged. “The trick will be convincing her and them that it is needed.”

We were alone again. I had a difficult point to bring up. “I must say, there is one thing that bothers me greatly about our allies. And it bothers me, what you have accepted.”

I sighed. Deshana encouraged me to speak freely.

So be it. “The assassin Nilan. My friend, as much as he can be. And a being of honor, when his duty permits.”

Deshana nodded, she knew this better than I.

I continued. “Yet... he is Vhaeraun's creature now. And it is Vhaeraun's priest who has made alliance with the illithid. Obviously, Vhaeraun's priest would do nothing Vhaeraun opposed.”

“So your vision of Nilan, Lady, dead by Vhaeraun's own hand.... That may end up being the best of the outcomes.”

A god that would send his own people to be enslaved. Their minds destroyed, somehow eaten. What might not such a god do? What might such a god force Nilan to do? What might Nilan do, with his heart and soul enwrapped by such a god?

I shook my head. “As I said, he is a friend, an old friend. But I no longer trust him.”

Deshana nodded sadly.

I bade her farewell, and headed back to the fountain.