Yiska & Haske’s Story:
As the students of the Way disperse and Gitmog moves on, Haske stands tall and speaks. “Wait. Yiska and I have decided that you are to be trusted. And thanked, as we are forever indebted for your help.”
She nods and begins to speak, her voice musical and somewhat hypnotic. “If you know of the tribes, you might be aware that we are of the Sky Singers. You already know that we used to dwell in the Stone City. If you know of the clans, you might have picked up that we are Dayjumpers. We used to run the market for our tribe.”
He looks angry. “Run the market? We were the market! AND THOSE STEL VAGABONDS…”
She cuts him off with an icy glare. He calms down. A smidge. Maybe just a half smidge, but he shuts up.
“We were the Market. Better, Haske?” He nods in reply. She continues. “One night, we were counting our coin and making sure the critic lizards were ready for sale on the morrow – pets had been very profitable that year. Then all of a sudden, chaos.”
“The doors to the warehouse were blown inward and a towering crimson creature tore through our business. Broad and well-muscled, with four arms, two with clawed hands and two with powerful pincers, it’s violet eyes and tembo-face grinned as it dealt death.”
“It spoke to us in our minds and told us exactly who did this as it killed our brothers and sisters before our eyes. Stel, it shouted. A warlock brought it here to deal death and warn us to never attempt a market in Nibenay again. My brother tried to get to the cache of weapons we were to sell to the nobles, but it was too late. We were pinned, and our tongues eaten. And then it simply walked away before vanishing.”
“So we fled. We left with a few others of our family, but we were ambushed by Silt Stalker elves as we left town. Perhaps they also had a hand in things. Our shame has kept us from reuniting with our tribe. But we have that back now.”
Haske adds, “I still know where our tools were hidden. Too well hidden at the time we needed them most, but they should still be where we left them.”