Aftermath - A Dark Sun Short Story

**This story takes place between the 9/12 and the 9/19 gaming sessions**

Aftermath

                Carefully, Zarnian wrapped a single sweaty curl of Trakas’ hair around her finger. His hair was wet with sweat from their love making, but just yesterday that sweat was from the chilling shock of Sorin’s constant attacks. She felt as if he almost died yesterday. Today they agreed to start over, making love in Trakas’ room carefully, respectful of each other’s injuries. In his arms all she wanted was to forget everything except that she was here and that in his arms she was not a warrior, leader, or rebel. In Trakas’ arms she was a woman – the only place that was true.

                Suddenly, he held her a little tighter, his energy shifting a bit, just enough for her to notice. “Is all well?” Zarnian inquired, hoping that the panic remained away from her voice. Yet, it was in her heart. Their new start was a very small sprout, and such sprouts were easily crushed by a misplaced step.

                Trakas turned, looking at her with his deep green eyes, the color of lush vegetation that never suffered from lack of water or soil. Eyes that were the color of everything pure and right. “I just want to savor every moment that we have.” The rest remained unspoken but understood.

                Nodding, Zarnian agreed, “Yes, we will. Even when our bodies are not joined, our hearts will be.”

                This seemed to trouble him slightly. “Zarnian, my heart is with yours. If I had my way, I would take you and Timmuth and Sorin and smuggle you out of town. I’d tell you to not stop running until you got back to the House so you would be well away from here before the fight, before Kalak defiles.” Anger crept over his face as his hands tightened into fists. “I would give anything for that.”

                “Yet, you cannot have it.”

                Trakas shook his head. “You’re integral to this, Zarnian, in a way that I don’t even think you understand. This will fail without you.” He traced the tip of her ear with a single finger, a move that made her blush. He smiled at that, warming with her. “When all this is over, I am going to take you to the most beautiful place you can imagine. It’s green and beautiful and there is water and all the plants there just radiate joy. You’ll love it, and the thought of showing it to you is what is getting me though all of this.”

                Shifting, she sat up, twining her fingers in his. “You are getting me through all of this.” She kissed his forehead. “Trakas, seeing you suffering under Sorin’s assault, you almost…” She shook her head free of the thought. “I cannot have that occur. You cannot die during the upcoming battle.”

                “Zarnian…” He reached up, cupping her face in his hands. He smiled, yet it held too much sorrow to truly be a smile. “I don’t know what is going to happen during this battle. I have a mission, a mission that is bigger than you or me…than us. We’re two lives against the lives of a city, or perhaps all of Athas. That is why I haven’t told you yet those words I hold in my heart. Even if that is how I feel, I want to wait until we’re past all that. If we survive, then I can look you in the eye and tell you.”

                “I can wait,” she promised, surprised by the truth of it. “Besides, I would rather say those words to you once I can be sure that I won’t have to lie with anyone I do not wish to. That still might occur before all this is over. I will do what I have to in order to protect this house.”

                “ I know.” All traces of his smile fell and he gathered her into his arms holding her against the upcoming storm. Though neither one wanted to leave the embrace, finally, Trakas announced, “It’s been about an hour. We should probably make sure that C’aro doesn’t have Gahaz standing over the kids with a whip while they make their pots.”

                Zarnian’s eyes flashed with fear and rage. Lightly, she hit him in the chest. “Do not suggest that to either one of them.”

                “I won’t,” he promised, his old mischievous look in his eye. Silently, quickly they dressed. He reached the door first. Zarnian was still buckling her chest armor in place. “I won’t, for now.” He added, dashing from the room and down the stairs before she could catch him.

                Shaking her head, Zarnian finished buckling her armor, picked up her spear and dashed out of the room after him. Her legs were longer and when she caught him, he would pay.

Dark Sun Gaming Notes 9 5 12

Gathering the Conspirators

Cael and Zarnian returned to the estate and informed the rest of the House that they all had to report to Ageis’ estate that night to meet with the other members of the conspiracy and Kalak’s oracle. After some discussion Cael decided to take Bellesaria, Bay decided to take all the noble members of his Cabal and the scribe, and Zarnian asked Trakas and C’aro to attend. Ohzon mentioned bringing Horchada, and idea everyone else rejected, and Barok said he was fine with who was going but decided not to bring anymore.

 

Waiting for the Gathering

While everyone waited for night to fall, Ohzon rented some penthouses in tenement buildings, with holes in the ceilings for his Skyfollowers.  He secured several. Then Bay went to visit Mitzrah the Lion, to inquire if Mitzrah was able to get slaves for him. Mitzrah said he had found and could get slaves for Bay, but they would be porters, and 1 gold each. Bay balked at the price, and said that he wanted discount slaves. Mitzrah said he could accommodate that, but he would need 100 ceramic down, and he got to keep it whether Bay wanted the slaves or not. The deal was agreed on, and Bay left.

 

Rising Tension

Back at the house, everyone heard shouting and screaming outside. The templars were rounding people up for just being outside, making up charges out of nothing. Zarnian made sure the kids and guards were inside, so they could not be taken. The Urikite ‘businessmen’ looked on with increasing fear. After seeing this, Zarnian took all the children to C’aro’s office and showed them the bolt hole. C’aro reminded them they could not use it unless it was an emergency, then sent them back to work making pots. Timmuth called Barok up to the loft so he could place his hand in the wet clay.

 

Gilded Chariot

Bay went to the bar to recruit Inicles for the meeting. At the Gilded Chariot was the gigolo who had been with Drugar. Bay did find Inicles and he agreed to come to the meeting with Bay at Ageis’ estate. When Bay asked who the gigolo was, Inicles said that he was some trash that Hericles picked up at the elven market. Inicles was going to ask to have him removed, but Bay asked him to wait.

 

Leaving Town

Finally, at night, everyone left. They decided to use the Stadium Gate to say that Barok was going outside the city walls to train so no one could see his moves for the upcoming games. During the journey, Zarnian got a slight feeling they were being followed, but did not really notice anyone. Then when everyone arrived at the gate, there were four half giants, several guards, and a handful of templars. They announced that the gate was closed, and it was unlawful to be out in this area after curfew, although no such law had been announced. They said one of the party had to become a slave for the brickyards to pay the fine. Instead, Zarnian gave up her agafari and iron spear, so the group was allowed to pass. Then, after the gates had closed behind them, they heard Drugar’s protests as he was being hauled away for the brickyards. Though Bay considered intervening, at the end he decided not to.

 

The Missing Oracle

Once at Aegis’ estate, the group found the courtyard deserted. The entire estate was deserted, with no slaves and slowly dying fields. Finally, Zarnian knocked and Aegis came to the door, but did not want to admit the Noble Cabal, who had arrived before us. Finally, everyone was allowed in the small sitting room (which was too small for Barok) and there was Meticles, Lycinia, Thaxos Vordon, Meticles, and another noble, named Lord Vericles. He was a noble of a moderate level, and he was a philosopher. Here was also a redheaded chic that Bellesaria knew. There was a mood of crankiness in the room because Kalak’s oracle never appeared, and suddenly there were many people that they did not know in the conspiracy. There was some bickering, but Aegis and Zarnian tried to calm everyone down. Zarnian ended up giving Thaxos Vordon the verbal smackdown. It was also revealed that Tithian had not yet agreed to help, and though Aegis was placing pressure on him, it had not been enough, yet. The members of the conspiracy who had already been together said they had a plan, but would not share with us. Zarnian explained about the obsidian orbs under the ziggurat and said that Astinicus knew a secret entrance into the ziggurat and he was not dead, but in the clutches of Sericles. After much talk and debating, little was accomplished. Vericles pulled Barok outside and said that Aegis and Sadira were trying to recover a special spear. He wanted to know if Barok could get into the games and throw that spear at Kalak. After everyone left, without the oracle ever appearing, C’aro complained that they whole thing had been a waste of time. The group got in again through the merchant gate.

 

The Day After

The following morning, Bay sought out Rodrigo and Jugalo. He paid them 10 silver pieces to find out information on the Templar that had Zarnian’s spear. Ohzon went to see Mitzrah and wanted to have the skyfollowers smuggled in. At first, Mitzrah was going to charge 10 gold but once he learned who they were, he wanted 20 gold, and 3 gold to smuggle in just Searchion. Aein returned and said he had news of Malik. Malik went to a whore house called the Unsheathed Sword and never bought a whore, but drank alone. Rodrigo came to see Bay and told him that the templar in question drank for free at the Gladiator’s Blood bar, then worked the gate and went home to the Golden City. Cael was going to watch the gate during the day, but then got distracted when Bellesaria said she wanted someone to track Aegis and Sadira, so Cael was going to do that. That night, Zarnian dressed in clean clothes and armor, before making her way to the Unsheathed Sword. She talked to Malik and learned that he was dying, poisoned by Hamdi for trying to protect a boy Hamdi was trying to rape. Malik’s only strength in his last few days came from plans of revenge and thoughts that Zarnian was safe and having a happy life. Though she wanted him to come with her so she could try to get psionic healing he refused and turned away from her, saying that if she loved him at all, she would go, so she did.

 

Sorin

Before Cael left for her mission, she decided to talk to Sorin about what he was talking to. She had to haul him off the assembly line (to his discomfort since he did not want to get in trouble with C’aro) and Cael took him up to their room. There, she asked him whom he was taking to. It was revealed that he was talking to Tzitch, the insane nature spirit grew insane from being defiled. It blamed Cael for its pain, and said she tried to kill it like she killed Sorin’s father. Then, Sorin revealed that Tzitch said she would kill him, too. Zarnian and Trakas got in on the conversation when Cael returned the child to his workroom, and Trakas offered to take him away to be trained as a druid. However, Zarnian objected. She was drunk from mescal she had borrowed from C’aro. Since her own heart was broken, she did not want the children to be separated, since Timmuth thought of Sorin as a brother. Trakas said he would try to dispatch the spirit again.

 

Afternotes

After that, Cael left to follow Aegis and Sadira. They headed into the mountains and disappeared. Back at the house, all the sky followeres simply showed up at the gate and were let in. The Tyrian templars also started shaking down the Urikites.

Calam - A Dark Sun Short Story

                Calam watched the mul out of the corner of his eye. She stood off to the side, armored, wearing weapons the way other women wore jewelry. One by one, the cook dished some of the savory soup onto one of the spongy flatbreads he first placed on their ceramic dishes. One by one, guards and mercenary soldiers big enough to break him in half all said ‘thank you’. The ugly mul male, the disgustingly muscled one, never did, but he also did not strike out and hit him the day Calam spilled a few drops of soup on the mul’s boots. There had been murder in his eyes, but the mul woman tightened her grip on her sword, and nothing was done. Calam hadn’t stopped shaking for a few days afterwards, but beatings never came.

                Life here was not bad at all. It was actually as pleasant as it could be, while still enslaved. The mistress - Zarnian, he reminded himself, she does not want to be called mistress. She wants to be called by her first name like another slave - bought him comfortable enough bedding,  and made sure he had enough water and food. Even his tasks were not overly difficult. In the morning, he would get the coin from the house and the mul woman to purchase ingredients at the market to make everyone’s meals. Then, one or two of the “guards-that-laughed-a-lot” (there were five of them in this category) would escort him to the market and help carry everything back to the house. Then he would spend the day making food for the guards, but it was not overly difficult.

                Before this, he had been the slave in a noble estate from well outside the city. When the templars came to claim him and the other slaves for King Kalak long may he reign he added in case anyone was reading his mind, they had marched them toward the city. It was a long, blistering trek to the city and when everyone rested at night, elves came and stole him and a few others away. After he had been taken by the templars and then the elves, Calam expected an even harder life than his noble house. His overseer at the noble house was no worse than many. The overseer did beat him and the other slaves, and routinely burned those that burned the master’s food, but Calam was sure this was common in many kitchens. He was never allowed to eat what he prepared, since that would result in a horrible whipping if he was discovered, but he had gotten enough gruel to survive.

                He was snapped from his reverie by the arrival of the first child. It was the smallest one, the one that talked to himself. Standing at his shoulder protectively, holding both their plates was the mistress’ son, the one the others called the murderous boy behind the child’s back. Calam gave them a smile, and more food than he should for children their size, as was the mistress’ direction. Zarnian, he reminded himself again. Not for the first time, he wondered why others called the older, thin child the murderous boy. Yes, he seemed happiest when he was training with his spear, yet the boy had not hurt anyone and was quite polite to the cook, saying please and thank you. One thing was apparent, though. The mis… Zarnian, loved him. Once, she had given the kitchen worker a small heart attack. He had been asleep when he heard someone trying to sort through pots in the night. He woke to find her trying to put together a snack. The idea of his owner trying to prepare food for herself had nearly frightened him to death. He pleaded with her not to sell him or beat him, and whatever offense he had given her he would rectify. Her answer stunned him- she wanted Calam to sleep and her child had a nightmare, so she was trying to find a treat for him. He quickly made something based on what he had around, which she took gratefully. He would never forget how his fear and begging made her look perplexed and uncomfortable. Now, he tried to send the pair to their rooms for the night with a snack or two for the boy.

                Finally, Zarnian came through the line with her plate. She always wanted to be last, even after the children. In other circumstances, her actions could be seen as being less than the others, or dominating them by watching. With her, it came across that she was protecting them all somehow, except possibly the other mul. With her own plate full, she gently reminded, “Make sure to serve yourself, as well.” It was something she said after every meal, when he was the only one left. Then, she took her plate and sat down among the others, next to the murderous boy and the other guards, talking to them casually about the events of the day. As he made his own plate, a roar of laughter came from the group as the youngest guard stood up and used his hands to imitate the eyebrows of the bushy browed guard. After timidly tasting his first bite of dinner, he hoped that the mistress would not sell him. This house was a good place to be a slave.

Timmuth - A Dark Sun Short Story

                Timmuth’s cry of fear and pain ripped though Zarnian’s body more than any blade. Before he was finished sitting up in bed, her arms were around him. “What happened?” she demanded, her fear making her voice harsher than intended. Covered with a thin sheen of sweat, Timmuth shook his head, shivering against Zarnian’s arms. Then she realized what happened. “Did you have a nightmare?” He nodded against her chest. Sparing an arm just for a moment, she wrapped the blanket around him again to keep off the chill of the night, and held it in place as she rocked him for a moment. Since she freed him from Esticles the nightmares came frequently. When they did, for a short time Timmuth reverted to the child of six who did not speak for a year in the wake of his parent’s death. Over the last few weeks Zarnian had learned to be much more intuitive about what he needed or had happened.

After a few moments in her arms, he stopped shaking. She kissed the top of his head, and relaxed her arms a little. She didn’t ask him what his dreams had been about. After trying to get an answer several times over the last weeks, and only getting shakes of the head in response, she gave up. Her guess was that while the physical scars of his slavery had begun to heal, his mental scars remained. She had her own mental scars from her slavery, and most of the trauma happened when she was much older than Timmuth. Not for the first time, she wished she could whip Drugar so he could see how it felt. Reaching down, she poured Timmuth a cup of water which he took, and a bit of sponge bread soaked in weezer nectar to make it a little sweet. It was a small comfort but one he took and consumed quickly. Once he was done eating and drinking, he said, “Zarnian, I can’t go back to sleep.”

“Well, I am not sleeping tonight. What do you want to do?”

“Train. I want to get better with a spear. I want to be as good as you. You can kill anyone you want with your spear.”

“Not anyone,” she corrected. “That is why you have to train with your mind and not just your fists, or your weapons. If you strictly rely on brute force, with no cunning and no thought, you will harm yourself and those you seek to protect. But, if you use your mind, you can disable your enemies sometimes with no violence, sometimes with very little.”

The boy’s eyes brightened. “You mean the Way? I want to learn.”

“And I will get you a teacher someday very soon, but I actually meant reactions, mental and physical. You have to be intelligent about all your actions. When I was younger, I had the best physical reaction times at the school. I was quick, graceful, and I was undefeated for a very long time. That made me cocky.” She smiled at the admission. “When Malik came, he could not move as quickly as me, but he used strategy and battle intelligence to defeat me in less than a minute. I was humiliated, but I learned. The battle is won here,” she tapped his head. “You have to plan, you have to know what your enemy will do before he does it, and then you have to know how to stop him without even picking up your weapon.”

A few moments of silence passed between them, before the boy again asked, “Zarnian?”

“Yes?”

“You love him, don’t you? Malik.”

Now it was her turn to pause. “I do,” she finally admitted, “but it is very complicated.”

“What if he doesn’t want you to raise me? I’m the son of the man that separated you and sold him away. What if he hates me?”

“Then I will not be with him. You are my son. You come first. If he cannot accept that, then he is not the man I loved.”

“Then will you be with Trakas again?”

The question shocked her. After taking a breath, she replied, “I do not know. That is also quite complicated.”

“You are very confused about him.”

“And how can you tell?”

“Well, you kissed him, and then you punched him.” Timmuth’s answer made her smile. “But you are also very confused around him.”

She raised a single brow. “You can read my emotions?”

Timmuth flinched reflexively, expecting a blow. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to. When they’re really strong, sometimes I can’t help it.”

His reaction softened hers. She hugged him. “Try not to. I prefer to keep those things private. Yet, you are correct. I do have very mixed emotions about him. But, Timmuth, no matter who I chose to share my body and heart with, they will have to accept and love you first. They will have to honor your place in my life, or I will not be with them.”

“Even Malik?”

“Even Malik.”

“And I can train with a psionicist?”

“Soon. First, you are going to learn how to use your mind to think. We will speak to Aein about starting your lessons tomorrow. I also want you to help around the warehouse. Learn from whoever you can, anything you can. Educate yourself. We will work together on reading and writing dune trader code, and standard writing.” He looked like she had just sentenced him to prison. “And every day you will also have weapons training.”

“Yay!” He made motions of training with his spear. Then, he relaxed a little against her chest. “I’m getting tired again.”

Gently, she moved herself and fluffed his pillow, before letting him recline. Tucking him in, she kissed his forehead. Returning to her small desk, she waited until she heard his breathing slip into deep, soothing rhythms before allowing her face to fall. She did love the child, and wanted to raise him. She wanted the chance to be everything for him that Carn had been for her. When Malik said she would be a good parent it was all she could do to not scoff at him. He may or may not yet be right about how good she was, yet she loved every moment of it. But, in less than a month he would be safe at the house and she would be dead. With a sigh, she returned to her careful sketches, mapping the entrances to Undertyr that were near the ziggurat, and to thoughts of how to kill a god.