Meeting The Bonecaster

“The emissary said they had spies looking into Ostiarium. Told them it’d be in vain, but why would the righteous pricks listen to anyone else?” Shalia hissed mostly to herself as she paced.

“They could have asked for a private audience or something, they didn’t need to start getting violent! Now I want to get violent.” She mumbled some nasty things with crossed arms and a grimace.

Finally, she sat down at the table and took a deep breath. Shalia was upset, the guards were upset, Islana was clearly upset…Kaithak was probably upset too. The last thing any of them needed was to start freaking out. Now, tormenting one of those desert bastards would have done the trick for her mood and served some sense of justice for the injured Aghul, but that was off the table as long as she was in this room. The flurry was a little less aggressive now but still present.

“Look, we’ve both had wretched starts to our day. Go sit, collect yourself and the bird, and I’ll think on this more later. I need to get a Bonecaster to deliver a message before I completely lose my shit...”

She sat there with fingers at her temples. Before she would take further action, she needed a minute of quiet. Just one moment to think.

There was nothing Islana felt like or really could say, at the moment. So, she just listened to Shalia, rightfully, express her frustration at the situation.

Sitting by Kaithak, her hand reached towards the falcon and gently petted him.

Despite how absolutely silent Islana was being, there was a lot going on in her mind. First being an apology to the falcon for what had happened, if the bird did or didn't understand her wasn't really the important part.

The redhead wondered if she had really seen Alcuin in the market and whether or not it should be mentioned to Shalia, obviously later, if at all.

How if she never stepped foot in that market place again it would be too soon, as the kidnapping had brought back memories that Islana wished she could forget.

The loyalty to Shalia hadn't been recognized, really until the kidnapping. It would be easy to say she was missing her friends so was looking for a connection. Islana did miss her friends but she never went looking for connections just to have them. Perhaps trust was inching along, albeit slowly.

Lastly, questions about the people who had kidnapped her, the Sand Horde, played though her mind. She wanted to know more about them. Something else to not mention, at the moment.

Instead, it was just a continued quiet as Islana tended to Kaithak and kept an eye on the injured guard in case he was in need of anything.

A few tolls of the bell later a knock sounded from the door. The guards allowed the entrance of an extremely tall and spindly man. He was dressed bare chested wearing only long flowing pants.

He knew what he had been called for. Shalia Nix wanted to contact their leader, the Warchieftan Koshnem.

The Bonecaster set himself in a corner of the room where he lit some candles on the floor, drawing two circles with charcoal around where he sat and another opposite him. He scattered a few few objects around himself, including a few feathers, a large rock, that had been polished to almost a perfect sphere and a few strange looking vials.

It was fascinating to look at, the vials, the drawn shapes in charcoal, burning candles flickering as the lanky man moved around. Shalia's curiosity was peaked--any kind of ritual process was greatly intriguing.

The witch seated herself on a pillow nearby careful not to get too close to his setup. She awaited instruction on how to begin once he was finished preparing, fingers anxiously running over the scroll in her hand as she thought about how best to deliver the information to Koshnem.

Islana became focused on the man and what he was doing. Of course, the young witch had never seen anything like what was currently being witnessed in that room.

The woman's hand even stopped reaching for the soft feathers of Kaithak, until the gentle tap of the bird's head could be felt touching her palm.

Back to giving the falcon attention, staying quiet, and remaining where she was but watching everything the man did with great interest.