The Dauntless IV: Fury Road

"A portal," Dorrak explains. "We've already spoken with Emaliza, the High Councilor, and she gave us these," Dorrak shows the guards the pin he received from her.

The guard inspects the pin, then nods. "Don't know what that all means, but you've got official pins so you're welcome inside the city. Cause no trouble." The guards nod to each other and step aside, allowing you entrance.

The city is bustling, but in an orderly manner that sets it distinctly apart from Katapesh or Saggorak, with traffic flowing exclusively on the right side, neat queues forming at all of the stalls and even the crossroads seeing groups taking turns to cross with a methodical and practiced ease.

The Beggar's Neighborhood seems to be a misnomer, as it's perhaps the most lavish of the districts you pass through, if also the smallest. Three inns sit at the three corners of the triangular district, with streets connecting each of them lined with restaurants, performance centers, a gym and a karaoke bar. The nearest inn, The Glorious Rest, is run by a friendly Tien man who gives you each a private room (free of charge), points you to the complimentary continental breakfast (which, on another planet in about a year or so, would earn three stars and a glowing recommendation in a certain heavily biased but still respected restaurant guide), and hands you a key to the underground pool and spa.

Once everything there is taken care of, you head to the Soldier's Neighborhood. Every direction you look here, you see something dedicated to the perfection of the body and martial skill. Training grounds, dojos, gyms. You're regularly passed by guard trainees practicing running patrols (every single group asks to see your pins here, where you've gone largely ignored by guards up until now aside from the occasional inspection, but you gather that this is just practice), and you pass another class in weaponry or hand-to-hand combat every block or so before reaching the Guard Tower, a relatively spartan building whose only prominence is being taller than the other buildings of the district. Inside, a thirteen-year-old girl greets you from behind a desk in the front room.

"Good afternoon strangers," she says politely. "May I see your Visitor's Pins or inquire the nature of the emergency that led you out of the Beggar's Neighborhood?"

Dorrak shows her his pin, "We were told by High Councillor Emaliza to come here to meet Commander Arumelo," he explains. "Is she available?"

"She should be," the girl replies. She rings a bell, and a second later another guard opens a door to further in the building. "Walter, could you see if Commander Arumelo is free to take a meeting? These visitors say High Councilor Saris sent them." The guard nods and heads back in. The girl then turns to you with a charming smile made all the more charming by her ridiculously symmetrical face and perfect teeth. "If you'd like to take a seat, Walter should be back in a few minutes."

True to her word, the guard comes back a few minutes later and says the Commander will see you. You're led up the stairs to the top floor, where an office entirely encompasses the floor, with another scale model of the city filling most of the center. At the rear of the room, a massive mahogany desk takes up another large chunk of the room, and behind it sits a woman in her mid-twenties, fingers steepled in front of her as she regards you with a cool expression. "You didn't come into port," she says as you enter. "My sensors have detected no magical teleportation anywhere on the island, and our security viziers haven't reported any boats coming from outside. Explain your presence on my island."

"We control a network of portals in Isger, one of which leads directly into Mengkare's lair," Dorrak explains, being as direct and honest as he could. "We did not know where it would come out when we took it, and after we emerged from the lair, we were confronted by the High Councilor."

"... I see." Arumelo stares at you intently. "Would you like to take three steps forward and repeat that." She nods to a rug on the floor.

Dorrak looks at the rug, "I'm trusting that this isn't a trap," he comments, then steps onto it, feels it tug at his mind and allows it to do so, then repeats exactly what he just said, adding, "I swore an oath to never lie, I don't intend to break it today."

"Paladin, gotcha." Arumello nods sagely. "Inizra Arumello, Commander of the Guard and sitting member of the Council of Promise. So, Emaliza sent you to speak to me. What about?"

"Dorrak Hakdarson, Paladin of Ragathiel," he returns the introduction. "In short, she's concerned about Mengkare's behaviour, and believes that he may have lost his way. She grew more concerned when we told her that the portal, which is within a few hundred feet of where Mengkare rests, and that there is an aspect of Dahak trapped within. She suggested that we, because she is incapable of doing so, go into the archives to retrieve an item she believes could help remind Mengkare of his moral cause. When I pointed out that I am oath-bound to obey laws unless there is a superceding moral imperative, she proposed that we meet with you and hear concerns that you may have as well."

"I see." Inizra breathes out a heavy sigh. "Glad to hear Emaliza kept what I told her about in confidence an absolute secret. Well, as long as you already know of my treasonous leanings, I'll be upfront: I also fear Mengkare has been corrupted, and more than that, I believe that his Glorious Endeavor must be stopped."

"You have my full support on that notion. How do we do that?" Antoinette pipes in, almost too excited at the mention of dismantling the system this entire country is built upon.

Dorrak blinks rapidly at Antoinette's reaction, "Besides the morally troubling elements of stripping people of their freedom of choice, has something happened to make you believe that?" he asks.

Inizra stands and walks over to the window. "Promise is a utopia, where all its citizens are happy, healthy, able to pursue their passions and talents without concern for livelihood. Where they are well cared for... in the same way that livestock are well cared for. It is a place without freedom, without choice, without faith. Humans should not be kept as pets, should not be bred for qualities, should not be kept from making their own choices. I've only recently developed these convictions myself after speaking to a specialist Mengkare brought in a few years ago, an elf named Jonivar. He and I have spoken at length on the subject, and particularly, in our most recent discussions, his concerns that this is all for a deeper and sinister purpose. And now he's gone missing."

Dorrak nods sagely through that moral statement. "I agree, the ideal society inspires people to greatness, it doesn't compel them into obedience," he says. "Do you have any idea what that purpose is or what happened to Jonivar?"

Inizra shakes her head. "Jonivar is an elven scholar from the Mwangi jungle. Mengkare recruited him as an expert on elven magic, but in his time here, Jonivar and I became friends. More than friends. At the time, I believed in Mengkare's plan and, well... years before, Mengkare offered to allow me to choose my own mate as a reward for faithful service, and I refused. Jonivar won my affections, and I promised to convince Mengkare to allow me that same offer again, or else to renounce my citizenship and return with him to the Mwangi once he completed his service to Mengkare. Yet he never returned from his last meeting with the Glorious Master; he simply vanished. Such disappearances have happened here before, but I've always assumed they were for good cause.

"This was just over a year ago, and I've been quietly looking into it since then, but it was only after I learned more more that I felt comfortable sharing my concerns with anyone. I discovered that Jonivar's area of expertise was not merely elven magic, but very specifically ancient elven rituals, and I'm deeply concerned about what exactly Mengkare wants to do with ancient elven rituals."

Dorrak's expression turns thoughtful for a moment, then he snaps to a realization, the memory springing to mind of Nketiah's light show and the dramatic reenactment of how the aspect of Dahak was sealed away to begin with. "Oh hells," he gasps. "When you say Jonivar was an elf from Mwangi, do you mean he was Ekujae?" he asks quickly, his tone turning more excited and urgent than it normally becomes. "And has he told you anything about those ancient rituals? Anything about one that requires the sacrifice of hundreds of pure, powerful souls?"

"He was Ekujae, yes," Inizra nods. "But he never spoke of his work to me. He was more interested in learning about Hermea. As I said, I only learned of his specialty recently, from a copy of his travel papers I recovered. ... why? Do you know something about an ancient ritual requiring the sacrifice of hundreds of pure, powerful souls?" Inizra's voice grows more and more worried. "Because as someone responsible for protecting the lives of thousands of pure, powerful souls, I find that very specific question deeply concerning."

Antoinette clutches her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Oh gods he fucking would, wouldn't he? Especially if the presence of Dahak in that arch has been corrupting his ideals over time..."

"There is an aspect of Dahak trapped in the portal network," Dorrak explains, trying to steady himself. "It was sealed there by the Ekujae with a ritual that required the voluntary sacrifice of hundreds of pure, powerful souls, and that was only enough to seal it. If his interest is in this ritual, and I'm very worried it might be, he could either be planning to pervert its power, or, at best, use it again, but even that would still require an unforgiveable sacrifice. What's worse, it wouldn't work. The voluntary nature of the sacrifice was too important, and the citizens of Promise aren't capable of that level of free will."

"..." Inizra doesn't say anything at first, merely going to her desk, sitting down, and opening the bottom drawer. She withdraws five shot glasses and a bottle of amber liquid, pours herself a shot, downs it, and sets the bottle and remaining glasses where you all can reach it.

Antoinette steps forward, pours a shot for herself, looks at Django, pours another shot, and then drinks both.

Inizra's eyebrows raise when steam literally rises out of the corners of Antoinette's mouth, but she doesn't comment.

Dorrak steps forwards and takes a shot as well, after making a quick assessment that it wouldn't impair him in the least, then lets out a low, resigned groan.

Noticing Inizra's look, Antoinette sighs. "I'm a magma dragon. With all the revelations happening right now that should neither be the biggest surprise of the day, nor your biggest worry at the moment."