The Reunion of Eden

The Marukan Redoubt

Their path took them north along the wide banks of the Grey River, they stayed close to the eastern shore and traveled upstream, which made their trip a lengthy one. The wooden skiff was exceptionally seaworthy for a vessel in the second age, cutting through the murky water with ease. The small dark grey sail flapped steadily in the wind from the center of the ship, dragging the wooden craft steadily along their route.

The skiff had the plain appearance of an old and mundane peasant craft, an incredibly unremarkable sight on the rivers of The Scavenger Lands. The navigator stood at the rear of the ship holding a long bamboo shoot that connected to the rudder below the waterline and allowed him to steer the nimble vessel through the shallow waters. A line of tall oak barrels was strapped along the rear of the ship, which the navigator was forced to stand on top of, and also added weight to the aft which lifted the nose slightly out of the water. Even with the supply barrells taking up the bulk of the rear of the ship, there was plenty of room for the four passengers aboard to sit comfortably for their long journey.

They had entered Marukan territory just before dawn, the rising sun on their right would be at their back to any Marukan scouts keeping an eye on the River. Though the humble skiff wouldn’t likely raise an alarm even if they were to spot it. Still several hours from their destination, The Marukan Redoubt, they would be forced to approach the fortification in broad daylight as their mission dictated that haste was of the utmost importance. The Redoubt had become an increasingly important structure in the politics of The Scavenger Lands over recent years, as The Mask of Winters increased his military and political power in Thorns, expansion was inevitable. Standing against that rising tide was The Marukan Alliance, by far the City of Death’s closest neighbor. The horse lords of Marukan had few naturally defensible locations, to the North there was the capital city of Celeren, to the east there was only open fields and The Redoubt.

What made their mission unusual, and why it required the subtle touch of The Grass Spider’s, is that their client for this mission originated in Lookshy. The staunchest supporters of The Marukan Alliance, they wielded immense power over the territory and even greater influence over military installation such as The Redoubt. In fact there would likely be as many troops from Lookshy within the fortress as there were from Marukan. So why exactly were The Grass Spiders hired to eliminate someone within a territory that Lookshy essentially controlled? Well, some questions even The Grass Spider’s didn’t get to ask…

Whitaker didn’t spend much time contemplating the task at hand while navigating the ship through the river towards their destination, instead he took notice of his companions, Circle-mates, sworn brothers and sisters, whom he got to spend time with so rarely these days. Especially all at once! It had been a long time since the five members of The Minstrel’s of Eden were gathered in one place, even longer since the whole circle had been assigned to the same mission. So long in fact, that Whitaker could not recall what it had been.

“When was the last time we were all gathered to complete a mission?” Whitaker broke the silence with the genuine, casual tone that was common for him. He broke even the heavy silence of dawn with ease.

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The silence that followed Whitaker's question was a testament to the time that had passed since the circle had united for a job. Apollo, Basilisk, and Valen each exchanged blank stares in tacit admission that it had been quite awhile, long enough, in fact, that most of the crew didn't remember. The Fifth Mixolydian Ruby, on the other hand, seemed initially to have ignored Whitaker's question. She was busy fidgeting with a contraption she'd devised to brew coffee in a portable fashion. It was hilariously crude and amounted to little more than a tin can partitioned into two sections separated by a thin cloth membrane, but she seemed satisfied that it appeared to be working as she spent a mote to heat the water in the can. After the silence persisted for a few seconds, she spoke up but kept her gaze affixed to the warming tin can in her grasp.

"It's been 321 days, six hours, four minutes. I'm assuming you knew that and that you were just trying to start a conversation."

Ruby declined to comment further, having more or less stilted Whitaker's attempt at breaking the ice. Whitaker sighed and muttered under his breath, "Thank you, Ruby..." His tone remained congenial; though Ruby's eccentric personality didn't bother the laid-back Whitaker in the slightest, he had forgotten what trying to make small talk with her was like.

Apollo, who was sitting with his back against an edge of the skiff, cradling the back of his head in his hands, smirked and decided to resuscitate the conversation after Ruby's killing blow.

"Not everybody has that flawless recall, Ruby," said Apollo, in a characteristically quiet, slinking tone that seemed well-suited to Apollo's modus operandi.

Still focused on her brewing coffee, Ruby replied flatly, "Maybe they drink too much."

Apollo shook his head with a slight laugh, pressing onward in the hope that he and Whitaker wouldn't have to carry the entire conversation.

"If you're gonna bark up that tree, there are much easier targets in the Order than us, ya know. Anyway, let's hope this run goes better than Chanta did - that business with the Forest Spirit and the dignitary's daughter really came out of nowhere. Thank gods Basilisk was around and can... talk to trees, I guess?"

Basilisk snickered, although, as usual, it wasn't entirely clear whether he was giggling at Apollo's statement or something completely irrelevant to the conversation at hand. After a pull from the wine skin he usually carried at his side, he smacked his lips loudly a few times, sending bits of pollen into the air near his mouth. He replied, "Sometimes! Sometimes I can. Other times I just run with it anyway. You know, fake it 'till you make it and all that." After his response, Basilisk continued chattering, although his muttering dropped its usual inaudible level.

Even the stone-faced Valen smiled at Basilisk's response, recalling Basilisk's elaborate communion with the Chantan forest, an act whose authenticity even Basilisk's colleagues were unsure of. Whitaker, pleased to see a few smirks going around, decided to use the conversation as a spring board to getting some real planning done.

"Well, unless Basilisk can also talk to horses, we might not be able to count on that this time," the oarsman said. Whitaker continued, "We still have some time before get to the Redoubt, but we should probably figure out how we want to this. I don't know about you guys, but I don't think I've ever actually been in there - maybe we could send someone in when we get there just to check out the layout?"

Whitaker let the question hang, looking to his circle mates for suggestions or volunteers. While he wasn't a master strategist, he was the group's most charismatic member and outwardly confident member, and as a result it was usually his leadership that served as the nucleation site for plan formation on those rare occasions when the circle did get together for a job.

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