Does the Music perhaps contain a snake with a mirror where its head should be, lunging at them out of the sea-surf?

Whether it does or not, Pharazôn steps forward, drawing his sword to kill this strange savage beast that dares menace him and his Queen -

Míriel stands frozen, surprised almost as much by Pharazôn's response as the snake -

Unfortunately, this is the sort of snake where hitting it with a sword does the opposite of making it go away!

...

The snake is gone.

The rhythm of the sea-waves hasn't changed. But all their men have disappeared, the vegetation is subtly unfamiliar, and there are now buildings visible no more than a mile off. Which is perhaps good, because something seems to be warping their eyesight, as they cannot see more than a few miles away.

Also, the sun is setting (or rising) along one direction of the shore, instead of into the sea.

Oooh, look everyone! We have visitors!

They'll be much more interesting with more power and some godsight on them, don't you think?

...

They can be permitted to EXIST.

The way they traveled here was really cool! And the woman's Good, but I don't think she's really a traveler at heart. The clericking vibes, they're just not there.

She's not Lawful, either. I always have trouble with Neutral Good clerics, I'd rather stick to paladins.

You're both silly.

She's Good. That means I vibe with her. End of story.

This mortal is admirably committed to NOT DYING.

Doesn't seem to be very interested in BREEDING, but we can work on that later, after he STOPS DYING. At least he's been eating properly.

Míriel and Pharazôn will abruptly discover they have some new mental... affordances, for lack of a better word, which comes with an instinctive association, though a different one for each of them. The warming caress of the Sun, and the inexplicable salience of... beetles?

Míriel looks around, dumbfounded.  She glances up toward the Sun; even that feels strange somehow.

"What... was that?  ... Do you know?  Where we are?"

She doesn't think he does know anything; if Pharazôn had enough sorcery to do anything like this (if sorcery could do anything like this), things would've gone far differently long before now.  But she doesn't know what else to say.

Pharazôn is also looking around in shock.

"... Somewhere in Middle-Earth, I assume?  Unless this is what Valinor is like?  Or I suppose the Dark Lands or Burnt Lands if we've gone that far?"

He throws up his hands and stares off down the shoreline, squinting his eyes at how things seem to disappear in the distance.  After a moment he notices a beetle crawling up his boot, but - strangely - he doesn't mind now.

"This isn't Valinor.  No one would've brought us there."

She stares up at the sun again, and then adjusts her necklace with the Sun and Moon pendants to sit on top of her other necklace with the Star of Earendil.  It just feels right.  Which is a strange feeling - she can't remember the last time anything felt so right.

"I didn't think so either.  Well, let's see where we are.  Someone should be down there.  Hopefully someone who knows a bit of Adûnaic."

He points to the village, which is fortunately before whatever magic is hiding whatever is far away from them, and offers Míriel his hand for the journey.

Míriel takes it.  It would, after all, be fitting.  And they're working together now.

The village is perhaps more of a small town, sitting on what may be a fairly well-traveled route. There are a few cobble-stoned streets, several dozen houses clustered closely together behind a palisade, and fields and farmhouses a bit farther off.

The people of the village, going about their business, speak an unfamiliar language.

Mysteriously, as they walk, they can start to see things far ahead of them that were previously hidden by whatever strange magic was hiding things.

Míriel feels hopeful when she sees the cobblestone streets.  Someone - some Numenorians, presumably - is improving this town.  There's trade.  Someone might even recognize one of them, or at least recognize her Star of Earendil necklace.

Pharazôn agrees with Miriel about the streets, and mentions to her how his governors had been expanding their public works programs lately.

Once there're a lot of people around, he goes up to someone and calls a "Hello!" in Adûnaic.  If they don't recognize that, he'll try several other languages... but he'll leave it to Míriel to attempt Sindarin.

Some people turn towards them curiously, but no-one seems to understand any of the languages he tries. Their rich clothing does seem to excite some commentary.

One of the locals gestures them uncertainly towards a central building, which seems to be of communal use. There are several outlines drawn inexpertly above and to the sides of the door: a person with wings (?), their arms outstretched with the Sun behind them; an upright sword, also paired with the sun, placed opposite the person; a bird with a long tail of many colors; a set of scales; a spiral with a bulbous end; a bow and arrow; a flower.

Is that supposed to be... well, the person in the Sun is Arien, of course.  If they're trying to represent multiple Valar and Maiar, the bird might be Manwe or Yavanna... no, the flower is Yavanna.  The bulbous spiral looks like sea-snails so it's probably Ulmo or Osse.  The sword might be Tulkas or Orome?

She gestures to someone and asks those names, pointing to the symbols.

They don't seem to recognize any of her names! But they can provide their own: the sun-person is Sarenrae, the sun-sword Iomedae, the bird Shelyn, the scales Abadar, the spiral Pharasma, the flower Milani, the bow is Erastil.

Well, of course the Valar would have different names in different languages.  She hasn't heard this language before, so of course it makes sense she won't have heard those names.  Right?

She points up at the Sun in the sky and says "Sarenrae?"

Yep, that's Sarenrae! 

Pharazôn is much more worried.

That doesn't look like a prefect's house... unless someone went all-in on native art styles?  And he doesn't think anyone would've done that.  Míriel's guess they were worshipping the Valar was wrong, which on the one hand is good for him, but on the other hand...

He's starting to get concerned they've landed outside the Numenorian viceroyalties altogether.  Maybe this's the land of that "Tar-Mairon King of Men" who rules parts of Middle-Earth?

He whispers to Miriel, "Don't tell them who we are.  They might be hostile."

"All right," she whispers back.

She looks around the village again, searching for some clues to where they might be or other words to ask about.  They might notice her necklaces...

They can't tell them who they are anyway, seeing as no-one understands them!

The locals have definitely noticed their wealthy dress and ornaments, and Pharazôn's sword, and they seem to be treating him with respect, if not exactly deference. They don't seem to be looking at her necklaces in particular, or maybe it's just hard to separate from men glancing at a pretty woman's chest.

Many of the locals also have ornaments - bracelets, earrings, pins, pendants worn around the neck - usually made out of copper, brass or painted wood, or even simple twine. The sun, moon, and stars (in various combinations) are popular motifs, as is the sword and some others.

Some of the children here look odd, almost like stunted adults. They're half the height of the grown-ups, but their bodily proportions don't match those of the more-normal children also in evidence.

...also, one of them seems to have a beard?

The stunted people don't look quite like the pictures of Dwarves that Miriel has seen, but they look a lot more like that than anything else.  She points to the one with a beard and says (in Sindarin) "Naugr?"  And then her one word of the Dwarves' own language, "Khuzd?"

Pharazôn, who has actually negotiated with Dwarves, shakes his head.  They don't look like that.

People might notice him looking questioningly at their necklaces.  There're enough stars here that he's also wondering if they've had contact with Elves...  Well, he can probably just ask.  "Quendi?  Eldar?" he says, looking one way and then another.

Wary, polite incomprehension! 

At this point they're approached by a woman wearing a spiral pendant on a thin chain, as well as spiral designs stitched into her dress. She doesn't understand them any better than the others, but she tries to mime something to them:

- Pharazôn -> money (she shows him a coin) -> her
- Her -> spiral -> folded hands, closed eyes -> Sun going up the sky, a little
- Pharazôn's mouth, to her ear, smile!

This woman who... well, going by Miriel's guess she's really devoted to Ulmo, but he isn't sure... 

... She's offering to... translate?  But not just now?

Well, they've already guessed from his clothes that he has money, he's sure.  So he might as well try.

He reaches into his bag to take out a smaller silver coin, being careful to pick one of the older pieces with Tar-Palantir's face rather than the newer ones with his own face.

(If she looks, the obverse of the coin is a ship.)

That is acceptable! The silver coin is clearly foreign and weighs rather more than the locally-standard silver pieces. She can't tell if it's genuine silver, of course, but there's no reason for wealthy foreigners to try to cheat her in such a small transaction, and being able to understand them might make them buy more things in the town instead of moving on to Almas.

She goes into the building, gesturing invitingly for them to follow. The inside is mostly a single big room, with wooden chairs and benches, and smaller niches and alcoves branching off. There are more wall-drawings and little wooden statues set on plinths and tables, in the niches and around the room, the ones that were drawn on the outside and a few others.

The woman goes to a niche with a bigger spiral, clasps her own spiral-pendant in her hands, closes her eyes, and settles into a contemplative pose.

They both follow.

Inside, Pharazôn is half disturbed - this clearly isn't a prefect's house - but also half relieved - there isn't a large sacrifice-table to the Darkness like he's seen in some towns conquered from Tar-Mairon.  In fact, it looks most like a schoolroom.

And then Pharazôn is dumbfounded when the lady goes to mediate with her hands folded.

(He mentions as much to Míriel.)

"If she wanted to cheat us, why'd she be doing this?  This looks more like I've heard Elves do when they're thinking deeply about something, or contemplating the world.  Maybe she's learned it from them?

"And yes - this looks like a schoolroom.  Which means some sort of civilization."

She looks around the room going from statue to statue.  They don't look like she's imagined the Valar... especially ?Orome? with an elk's head?... and whoever it is with the sword-symbol in a suit of armor; she thought it might be Aule or Tulkas but she didn't expect them to be wearing armor... but she feels something is right here in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.

The woman will keep praying for a quarter-hour if undisturbed. Some other locals come by, look inside, and leave again.

Pharazon paces back and forth, casting suspicious glares at the woman.  Someone's probably going to notice.

The woman doesn't notice, because she's praying. A man is going to come inside and sort of - hover anxiously?

Pharazon backs away.  He's got his sword if it does come down to it, but he's not going to be the one to start anything when he has no idea where he is.

(What happened to that beetle on his boot?  It's crawled up into his pant cuff now.  To his own surprise, he still doesn't mind.)

No-one is going to start anything against a maybe-adventurer with a sword! He's here because he doesn't want anyone to start anything!

Eventually, the woman ends whatever she was doing and turns back to them. She moves her hands in a complex pattern, still holding her spiral-pendant, and says something.

Then she smiles at Pharazôn, points to herself, says "Wanda", and points to him invitingly.

All right, she's come out of her meditation or whatever.  Let's see if she's going to try to translate now?

"Gimildun."  He's not going to give his real name, of course.  He continues in Adunaic, gesturing, "We're travelers.  Lost.  Where are we?"

Nodnod. She leads them out of the building again.

"Fedele," gesturing to the buildings; "Almas", pointing down the road, and holding eight of her fingers raised; "Andoran", sweeping her arm all around.

He has no idea how much of what he said she understood, but nope, he hasn't heard of any of those names.

"Do you know any of those?" he asks Miriel.

(Miriel, when invited, gave the name "Zimraphel."  It's a translation-by-sense of her real name, but she's actually heard of other people named that in Adunaic, whereas she hasn't heard of anyone else named "Miriel."  Except, of course, for the famous Elf.  Her father never explained why he reused that name, except that he'd had a reason.)

She shakes her head; she doesn't know any of those names either.  "Can you understand us now?" she asks slowly.  "What ocean is that?"

The problem with the Inner Sea is that it doesn't have a name that sounds the same in different languages. ...also, and more relevantly, it's not an ocean, and if these people are confused about that, their Teleport accident must have been a really bad one!

Wanda tries to sketch a map on the ground with a stick. (It's not a very good map.) There are two blobs for Avistan and Garund. They are... somewhere in the middle of the south Avistani coast. This is the Inner Sea - she repeats the Adunaic word for 'ocean', with an emphatic shake of her head and a crossing of her arms - that, far far far to the West (she makes a sort of flying gesture), is the Arcadian ocean.

...oh, and somewhere to the southeast there's probably another ocean, she doesn't know the name of that one.

Miriel walks around the map to try to view it from different angles.

"That... looks sort of like as if the compass was flipped and west was that way" (she points to the east of the map) and we're in Farther Rhûn?  Somehow?  Which means Valinor would be here..."

She picks up a stick and sketches another line for land off the map (around where Tian Xia would be), and points to the symbols that apparently represent the Valar and then to there.

Well, it's a bad sketched map... so maybe?

(He doesn't think so.  If you knew the shape of the Dark Lands' coast at all, you wouldn't be missing the horn.  And there're so many other things like that missing too.)

Wanda has no idea Tian Xia exists, let alone what gods are worshipped there! The only thing she's sure about is that Pharasma the Creator is universal.

So: spiral, nodnod; everyone else, apologetic shrug?

... No, Ulmo is the one who's everywhere there's sea.  And the others are the ones who're definitely in Valinor.  She shakes her head.

"The map doesn't look right anyway.  I have a hard time believing anyone who can draw the coasts would draw them like this..."  He shakes his head.  "And then there's that magic we saw in the distance hiding things... Did you hear of those philosophers who were guessing there might be people other places that aren't Arda?  I don't think we're on Arda anymore."

Miriel freezes in shock.

She'd heard of them too - she'd scoffed at them.  Till now.

Wanda is sympathetic, but she has no idea what was Zimraphel found so shocking! Did the poor woman just realize she's on the wrong continent?

They're halfway through her spell, and she doesn't feel like she has really helped these people. She starts listing every country-name she knows, presumably these people haven't come here from over the ocean.

East is Taldor. North are Galt and Isger. West is Cheliax (grimace, and a sign to ward off evil). South across the sea is Osirion. Also there's Lastwall somewhere - another name that's probably translated, since it just means 'last wall' in Taldane - and, uh... Mendev?

She tries to mime that soon her spell will stop working, the same way she mimed earlier that it would start working after she spent a similar amount of time praying.

She hasn't heard of any of those either.

Which she wouldn't have, if this's a totally different world.

"At least the Valar are known here too..." she murmurs.  "Unlike those philosophers were saying."  And that's a comforting thought.

"Well, that's a grim thought."  He can't get away from them even now!

... and she'll only be helping them for a little while?  "And what happens with us after that?"  He points to himself and Miriel, and spreads his arms questioningly.

Why is he asking her what to do? If he told her what he wanted to do she'd tell him how!

Wanda tries to mime the simplest options. Food, drink, sleep, go in that building (the local inn), pay with coin. After the Sun goes down and up again, Wanda can understand them again. (Briefly.)

That way is Almas, which is a big city - um, if this village has this many houses (she quickly counts them on her fingers), then Almas has many many more bigger buildings (she spreads all her fingers quickly several times over, and tries to gesture 'large house').

...no wait, she'll sketch this too. Almas is a big walled city with tall buildings! In Almas there are many stick-figure people! Some of them have conical wizard hats! If they give the conical-hat people many many coins, they will understand them and speak to them, all day long.

Actually, not just conical hat people! In Almas there are people (drawn twice as big as the other stick figures) with most of these other symbols (scales, bird, sun, sword) and if they give them coins they can also talk to them better than Wanda can.

Hopefully some of that came across?

Well, Miriel supposes it's good they have multiple options!

"I'd like to get to the city... but I want to know more about this world first.  And the countries here... if there might be a war between here and Cheliax, I don't want to be surprised..."

Pharazon nods.  "I don't want to come to the city as an ignorant supplicant.  Ideally I'd like to learn this language first..."

Everyone thinks there might be (another) war with Cheliax, but everyone has been thinking that her whole life, so: probably not this year? Wanda tries to mime this, but has no idea how much she can get across.

If he wants to learn the local language, going to the city is really his best bet! Well, she supposes he could stay here and pay some local child to speak to him all day, but that seems like a surprising choice. There are many more children without pay or food in the city! This town's children are well cared for!

...she's not going to tell these people what to do, though. They're rich and independent and can pay their way. Do they have any more questions for her before her spell runs out?

Miriel's confusion finally boils over.  "Why can you only mime with us once a day?  And can you understand us or not?"

She can mime with them all day! Well, not really, she has other things to do, but she can.

And she can understand them, but only for a few more minutes. Because it's a spell, granted by the spiral-goddess Pharasma, and it's running out.

understand, she tries to repeat in Adunaic, and nods emphatically.

Do these people not know that spells only last so long and can only be cast a few times per day Wanda assumes everyone knows that, in the same way that everyone knows that water flows downhill and the sun goes around the sky, even rich foreign people.

Is she asking why the spell doesn't last longer? Wanda, spiral, small (two fingers a little bit apart). Almas, spiral, much bigger! Bigger, sun go farther in the sky!

"Do you mean... Ulmo..." (he's not sure that's who it is, and he really hopes it isn't) "... pays more attention to larger cities here?  But what does that have to do with understanding us?"

"And you can understand us but not really speak to us?  How does that even work?"

No, no, Pharasma is the same everywhere. She (Wanda) is small. This stick-figure with a spiral pendant is BIG. And is in Almas. As are all these other big stick figures with other symbols or with conical hats.

Yes! She can understand but not speak! Well, she can identify words they say and repeat them, she could learn their language eventually that way. Like this:

That work! How that work? Pharasma understand. Wanda not understand.

Actually. Why can't Wanda cast a spell to make them understand her? She only made 2nd circle two months ago (there was a really difficult childbirth one village over) and she doesn't know all the new spells by heart yet, but she could pray for it tomorrow and see if she gets something.

Tomorrow (she mimes), Wanda - pray (folded hands) - Pharasma. Then they understand Wanda. Maybe? Yes, no? Equivocal shrug.

"'Pharasma' is... giving you magic to understand us?  That's not how the Valar usually do things where we're from!"

Emphatic nod, to the first half.

The gods... don't usually give people spells where they're from? That's extremely confusing and Wanda is very much not understand about it. Pharasma can't just... not give spells to anyone in a country! How would babies be born safely without healing?

Unless... Are these people possibly from Geb, land of the horrible Lich-King? They don't look undead!

Wanda resolves to make sure these two are included in her midday channel, and that someone watches them until then, if they don't decide to leave the town after all.

Also, her comprehend languages has just expired. She can at least get that much across, because she now has their words for understand and gods and that works (she wasn't bothering to track all the rest).

"I hope we can talk with you tomorrow!" Miriel says, probably uselessly.

So.  He's in someplace where the Valar regularly give out power to people.  Not just more strength and wisdom to a country-full of people like they did to his ancestors, but noticeable power to individual people.

He doesn't like this.

He doesn't think they'll like him once they see what sort of person he is.

... Though he is feeling good about how Miriel was the person to shock and pain that Valar-empowered lady!

"Thank you," he says politely, with a nod.

She mimes that she can't understand him anymore, but the polite nod is appreciated!

Do they look like she can help them with anything else or can she leave now?

"I'm going to see what the inn is like," Miriel says with a sigh.  She didn't want to found her self-identity on the comforts of royalty, but the thought of suddenly losing all of them does hurt.  "At least it should be vaguely civilized... I think."

Pharazon shrugs and goes along with her.

The inn is the largest building in town, and the attached stables are almost as big. This is the last stop on the coastal road before Almas, and it sees regular traffic from everyone who can't take a ship - drovers going to the big city, people with horses or carriages, everyone who lives too far west to take ship at Triela or who can't afford anything but walking. 

All the travelers left early in the morning and the evening's visitors are still hours away; the staff is busy cleaning, but the innkeeper is there to greet them and offer food and lodging. He's heard that these people don't speak Taldane but the language of inns and coins is universal, and pointing at things is easy since the menu is not very long - there'll be more available in the evening.

Would they like a single room, or separate?

It looks hugely rustic compared to the inns she's seen in Numenor itself, or Pelargir, or even what she imagines those would be like when they haven't been cleaned up for a royal progress.  But, she wasn't expecting anything else.  It's an inn.

"Separate.  We're not married yet."

... if ever.  They've left all the political issues back in Arda.  Which leaves - does she want to marry him?

She doesn't know how to answer that now.

Pharazon nods.  "Separate is fine."

Certainly! Which is to say, they're cleaning and airing the rooms right now but they'll be ready soon. (This is hard to mime but easy to point out as the woman doing the cleaning moves through.) 

Meanwhile the guests are welcome to eat and drink. There will be a bath available for (well-paying) guests but, again, only later in the evening, the cistern needs to be refilled from the stream and the fire isn't lit.

Pharazon asks for the words for each thing they indicate (repeating the Adunaic), trying to remember them.  "I wish I had some paper," he mentions to Miriel.  "I didn't think to bring any for a walk by the sea..."

Miriel laughs.  "I would've brought many things if I'd known where we were really going!"

"Or walked somewhere else."

Miriel bows her head with a sharp laugh.

The idea that she's gotten away from Numenor and her responsibilities there, trying vainly to bring the Kingdom somewhere they didn't want to go -

- well, she might've wanted to leap for that snake.

Pharazon notices she's hiding something, but he doesn't know her well enough to know what.

He gets up and tries to ask (by mime) for some paper and a pen.

It's an unusual request - guests who want to write things down normally carry their own paper and writing kits - but he can have a few pages, and a quill pen and use of an inkpot. It'll go on his tab, though at few pages it's not really expensive, just unusual. Luckily, the innkeeper isn't busy right now and has time to source a few unusual requests for guests who'd have a hard time buying their own in town!

Pharazon fingers the quill curiously.  He's seen them in old pictures, but he hasn't ever used one before.

The ink drips onto the paper, before he scratches what can vaguely be made out as a splotchy tengwa.

"Let me try?"

Miriel is a little better at it, but only a little.

"Now I know why our ancestors invented pens..."

Not to worry! Many people can't write well (or at all), even if they're rich! (The innkeeper doesn't say this.)

After finally scratching out phonetic tengwar spellings of a few Taldane words, Pharazon is at the end of his patience.  He throws down the quill.  "I'm going outside."

Miriel doesn't mind the idea of some time away from him.  She picks up the quill.  "Let me know if you see another mirror-snake."

She's not coming?  Well, he's tired of being inside anyway.  He bustles out and heads in the direction of the sea.

The shore is less than half a mile from the town. The grass grows almost to the waterline, with only a narrow strip of sand. There are little fish swimming in the stream that passes through Fedele and white seabirds wheeling overhead. They look like gulls but don't sound quite like them, and everything is just a little bit off for any one of the lands he's seen before.

The sea is calm enough for a swim, but there are dark clouds in the distance.

And far away, he can see... well, he can't see; that's the problem.

Maybe the Valar-empowered woman will have an explanation for him tomorrow.  Maybe he'll like the explanation.

He's not expecting that.

He was fairly sure he was going to be King of Numenor, and now --

The seagulls scream back at him; the sea keeps lapping placidly at the shore.

He looks around again - fortunately, no person's in sight to see him screaming.

All right.  He's here.  He's still a Numenorian, a son of Earendil the Morning Star, and of Beren and Luthien who defied the Valar themselves to gain a new life together.  He can make something of himself here too.

... make something with Miriel too, if she'll still marry him, and if he still wants to marry her.  Which he thinks he does.

He walks back into town, looking for clues to what sort of country they're in, or for a boy who might be willing to teach him a little of the local language.

The country seems to be a peaceful one. There's a tall palisade around the town, with a gate that can be closed but no obvious guard posted; most of the buildings in the fields outside are shacks probably used for storage, but there are also a few better-built houses among them that people might be living in. A flock of sheep is at pasture, some geese and chickens, a few cows and a horse. Some of the fields are fallow this season, left for pasture; others seem to be recently sprouted, the plants still small and hard to identify, but they don't appear to be a grass such as wheat.

The houses are built of a mix of wood and stone, sturdy enough but not expertly dressed or mortared. A few are coated with some kind of plaster, and might be made of bricks under that. There is a water-mill, the little stream dammed above it to form an artificial pond. In the distance - what distance can be seen around these parts - a pair of horsemen armed with swords and bows are riding towards the town, but they don't appear to be in any hurry.

It's close to mid-day, and the Sun rides high in the sky. The day has grown much hotter, and the locals go about in shortsleeves and shade themselves with broad hats of straw.

He might need the innkeeper's assistance, or Wanda's, to find a suitable boy and explain what he wants from him.

He wishes he'd paid more attention to the Numenorian towns he was sailing past or riding through.  He doesn't know how any of this compares to Numenor, or the Numenorian colonies.  Maybe this town's much more primitive, or maybe almost as advanced?

Maybe there is something he knows that they don't, which he'll be able to use to show them who he is.

... Or there's some way right now he could talk with those horsemen riding in here.  Maybe they'll be able to talk with him too?  Hopefully some other way that's not from the Valar?

He's not going to ask the innkeeper, and definitely not the Valar-empowered lady.  He's going to find a bored-looking child right now and speak to him in Adunaic and ask for words.

There aren't any bored-looking children around, per se. There are older children busy at various tasks, and younger ones who are playing. Does he want to interrupt one of them and explain through pantomime what he wants?

Sure!  He picks one of the younger ones; they aren't doing anything anyone else cares about.

"Hello," he says slowly in Adunaic, waving his hand like he saw the innkeeper doing.  "Can't speak -" He waves his hand and points to himself.  "Pharazon."  (Now that he knows it's a different world, he's not worried about giving his real name.)  He points to the kid questioningly.

Four strange words and some gestures, is it a spell? The kid backs away cautiously; he's not going to let Pharazon touch him!

"What do you want? ...Sir," he adds belatedly.

... that's a little long for a name?

He points to his other hand; he got that Taldane word from the innkeeper.  "Hand" (in Taldane); "hand" (in Adunaic).

Then he spreads his hands, and points to the nearby house questioningly.

"Hand", strange word, gesture with hands, point with hand. 

This may or may not be a spell, but the kid doesn't know what else you'd do by talking about hands and gesturing with your hands and then pointing to something. "I don't understand," he says.

"Maybe it's a game of charade!" a nearby girl contributes and is shushed by everyone else, who are watching the rich maybe-adventurer with some wariness.

He mentally marks that phrase as something having to do with buildings, and points to his shoe.  "Shoe" (in Adunaic).

He's pointing at things and saying strange words. Nothing is happening, so it's probably not a spell. First hands, now he's pointing at his feet. "What about your foot?"

That's still long, but maybe it's a specific sort of shoe?  He nods.

Let's see, what word does he want next... "Shirt."  He points at his own, and then at the boy's.

"Uh... body?"

"Torso," contributes the girl who likes word-games.

Two different words.  Maybe two different types of shirt and she's not sure which one his shirt is?  Or maybe something else's confusing?

"Sword."  (He's careful to keep it sheathed.)

"That's not a body part!"

"What are the rules," another kid wants to know.

He puts his hand to his ear quizzically.  "No" (in Taldane; he got that word from the innkeeper too) - gesture fingers waving out from his mouth - spread his hands. "I don't speak your language."

"I think he's pretending to cast spells, I saw an adventurer breathe fire once and it looked a bit like that."

"You saw an adventurer breathe fire? A real adventurer? When?"

"Not real fire, it wasn't hot and I could kinda see through it. He was at the inn a week ago, the 'keeper probably didn't let him do real fire inside."

"This one's boring, he can't even do pretend fire right."

"But he has a sword!"

"So what? My uncle Tomas has a better sword."

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Your uncle biggest adventure is seeing Sam's wife when Sam's with the flocks."

The children begin to wander away, engrossed in the new argument.

Pharazon sighs.  Maybe they were too young?  Or maybe they didn't understand how to teach words?

He walks over to look at the riders.  If they're close by now, he'll head over to take a look at them and how people are meeting them; if not, he'll go find an adult to try to learn some more words.

The riders dismount at the inn and head inside to talk to the innkeeper. Nobody seems surprised or alarmed to see them; they exchange casual-seeming greetings with some people on their way.

When the riders come into the inn, Miriel is sitting with her head down trying to decide whether to pray.

She doesn't pray that often.  The Valar never seemed to listen when she did, or when her father did.  They just sit teasingly off in their country; she knows they're good rulers if people obey them, but they don't seem to listen.  More often, she prays to Eru Illuvatar, even though He doesn't seem to answer either.

But in this world... the Valar seem to be paying more attention to individuals?  So maybe she should pray here?

But before she can actually decide to actually pray, the door opens and some strange men come in.  They're carrying themselves more alertly than the townspeople, like fighters, and they're the first obviously-armed people she's seen.

She looks up, glances back down at the page where she's marked down the words she's learned, and says what she thinks is "Hello!"

She's clearly foreign and with a weird accent, which is less weird since she's also clearly rich enough to be from somewhere far away. The inn sees regular traffic; a foreign-looking woman sitting in the main room isn't unheard of. "Good day to you, lady," they say politely, before talking to the innkeeper.

Miriel catches the quick dismissal.  She's disappointed, but not surprised, and nods back at them with a smile.

Outside, Pharazon stands for a bit, thinking.  People didn't seem to be honoring the newcomers in anyway, or afraid of them, or... well, maybe they were respecting them, but in the way you'd respect someone who'd just won some tournament.  

Maybe, despite their weapons, these aren't nobles after all?  Or maybe the way these people relate to nobles is different, the way some stories say it used to be among the Men in the First Age?

Well, he's not going to learn anything standing out here.  He goes in.

Miriel nods to him as he comes in.

"What did you learn outside?" she asks politely, ostentatiously tapping the corner of her list of words.

Pharazon has to admit (to himself) that's more than he got.  Talking to children, without paper in hand, had to be the wrong idea.

"I'm thinking that a place with the Valar giving people magic has to be different than where we came from.  But -" he adds optimistically, with a shrug, "our forefathers found a place for themselves even under the Elves."

That framing of First Age history is one Miriel and her father have known and dismissed for all their lives.

"Alongside the Elves, you mean.  And yes.  Have you tried praying?"

Not that she's actually done it herself, since... oh, the day before she agreed to marry him, when she'd decided it was fitting to give the Valar or Eru one last chance to give her a better plan.

Nor that she's going to admit to any of that.

"I might, if they gave me some of that magic, and left me alone otherwise.  I might even put up with some nagging ambassadors like they sent to our grandfathers.  What about you?  Are you insisting to stick with your father's ban on sorcery?"

Well, that's nothing more than she'd expect of Pharazon, an all-but-proven sorcerer.

"He banned sorcery because that's from Morgoth.  If the Valar are giving out magic here - they'd see you're the wrong person to give it to!  Go use your sorcery, if you brought any of it with you!"

She scoops up the quill and paper and walks to the other side of the inn, head held high.

The two men talk to the innkeeper for a few minutes. Judging from their gestures, at least some of the conversation is about the two of them.

Then the innkeeper says something loudly, everyone else working in the inn starts walking towards the door, and he politely gestures for Pharazon and Miriel to come with them. He says something about Wanda, moves his finger indicate the spiral-symbol, and then throws his arms wide open, turning around to indicate the whole room. Will they please come?

Wanda's saying or doing something about Ulmo?  Yes, absolutely!

Oh all right; he's not going to get anywhere staying away.

Many of the townspeople are gathering in the building with the gods' symbols, where they stand tightly packed around Wanda, being careful to fit inside a rough circle painted on the floor which covers most of the room. Most of them look relaxed, happy but not particularly excited or nervous.

Once everyone is standing inside the circle, including Pharazon and Miriel, Wanda lifts the spiral-symbol high where everyone can see it, and -

- some of their minor aches suddenly disappear, little ways in which your body tells you it's a tiny bit broken down that you learn to ignore, the slightly inflamed tendons and torn hangnails and minor rashes that you don't notice until you suddenly feel their absence -

- one of the children in the crowd has scraped knees, fresh scabs of dried blood, and they watch them fall off and healthy skin grow in -

- the feeling from this morning, that there's some new mental action they can take, grows a little more insistent in their heads.

- and six seconds later it's all over and the people smile and thank Wanda and start dispersing, resuming their conversations.

Pharazon feels better than he has in ages.  His scratches from his recent battle are gone now - the worst one more than he'd expected it to ever heal!

Miriel doesn't have any war wounds, but she does have old aches...

... or she did have them.

She feels the light of the Valar rushing over her like a friend, like something she's hoped for all her life even when she didn't expect it anymore at all... and it's suddenly here!

"If this's what the Valar do here -" she says aloud.

(- then for the first time in all too long, she can truly say she's happy to serve them.)

"Very useful," Pharazon agrees.

Oh thank the gods, they're not undead! ...that doesn't mean they're not from Geb, even if she mostly thinks that because she has no better theory.

They looked very surprised. But they already knew she was a cleric, it was obvious she was going to channel, what could have surprised them? It's not possible for people not to know about spells or channeling, so - nope, Wanda has no idea what's going on with these two. Hopefully Pharasma will give her a useful spell in the morning so she can talk to them properly.

Pharazon slips off with everyone else.  He doesn't like the Valar dangling healing in front of him like they've been dangling immortality just in sight of the Numenorians... and maybe that's not what they're actually doing, but it sort of feels like that when he can't talk with anyone except Miriel, who seems to have slipped right back into the piety he thought of her.

Miriel stays in the building afterwards for a little while, not surprised to see Pharazon slipping off.  She tries to pray, to the Valar in general - but the words don't come.

She's happy to serve them?  She's sorry for doubting?  She can think that, but the only words that come are a whispered "I'm sorry."

After a little while, she goes outside, down to the seashore.  And there, she kneels and instantly finds the words easier to say.  (It makes sense; after all, at home, praying wasn't something associated with a building.)

"Thank you," she says to the Valar in general.  "For healing; for showing me that you do act in the world.  Help my people at home - and show me what you want me to do, here now, and wherever I am after this."

It might be the first time since her childhood that she's prayed from gratitude, rather than out of duty or anger.

The sun pendant on her necklace grows a little warm to the touch. Or is it just her imagination? The feeling of something she can/should do grows stronger again, pulling at her attention, and at the same time it is joined by a new feeling of love, acceptance, warmth, healing understood as the desire to help people, acting in the world.

And then it passes and she's alone on the beach again, but the memory stays with her.

She's not alone anymore.

She's not alone!

Help people?  That's what she's been trying to do all along - she doesn't know how to do it, she never did; but she knows how to try her best - and now the Valar may have even given her a clue how...

(Is it Arien?  Or Ulmo?  Or someone else?  Not that it really matters.)

"Thank You!" she breathes.

And then she goes back to town, beaming.  She wants to try what might be a new magical power somewhere someone can see, because she's not going to be able to tell anyone about it today...

There are people in town! She can find Wanda, or anyone else she wants really. Pharazon is probably somewhere around too.

Part of her feels she should just show it (whatever it is) to the very first people she sees, but she wants to show it to Wanda.  After a minute looking for her, she starts to feel like a little girl going for approval from her mother, but she keeps looking because she wants to anyway.

Wanda isn't at the church anymore, but if she asks anyone else they will direct her to her house. She's spinning wool, watching people go about their day through her open door.

Miriel stands in front of her awkwardly, not sure how to begin.

After a moment, she holds out the sun on her necklace.

It's a very pretty (and clearly very expensive) necklace. Wanda isn't sure what Miriel wants from her, what with the language barrier, but she recalls that when they first spoke Sarenrae was the only goddess Miriel asked a follow-up question about, confirming that the sun was also Her holy symbol.

"Are you a follower of Sarenrae?" she wonders, mostly to herself. If any god made inroads into Geb, or had their clergy reach out to people fleeing Geb, Sarenrae would surely be the second best suited.

"I don't understand what you want, though," she says apologetically. 'Understand' is one of the few Adunaic words she memorized, so she repeats that.

... Wanda doesn't understand.  Well, Miriel will have to demonstrate whatever this thing is.  Hopefully she'll recognize it then.

Miriel steps back just a little, still holding up the sun.  For a moment she feels like when she was standing with her father at the Three Prayers to Eru, performing royal duty after royal duty that didn't ever help anyone...

... but then she remembers the presence of the Valar that she'd felt at the beach a moment ago.  Someone else is with her now, and gave her this to be an actual help.

And with that, she does the thing she can now do.

Even when you have no wounds to be healed, the feeling of a channel is unmistakable.

Miriel feels it pulse through her, Sarenrae's will which she effects in the world because for this one moment it is Miriel's will too, and it is the commingling of both that permits this small miracle.

The will for noone to hurt, for all wounds to heal, for everyone to be all right and for everyone to wish that on everyone else because that is the only thing that is fundamentally wrong with the world, that people don't love each other as themselves, and once they learn to do so all this senseless Evil will simply end.

If Sarenrae were aware of Eru's Creation, Her part in the Great Music would be the Healing of Arda Marred. But She would never agree to wait until the Last Battle, and that is, perhaps, why Eru does not have a god like Sarenrae.

But Pharasma's Creation does.

And Wanda can feel it dimly too. It is not her goddess and she has nothing to be healed of, and it is possible to channel without making it obvious if you want to. But Wanda's own cleric domain is Healing, and the channeling of a priestess of the goddess of Healing who wants to declare herself resonates with a piece of her soul.

"You're a cleric?" she blurts out. "But then - why were you so surprised earlier - why did you say you didn't understand that gods grant spells" -

Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait just one moment.

Wanda can see two obvious reasons why this morning Zimraphel might have been interested in Sarenrae's holy symbols while saying she didn't understand spells, been shocked to see a channel, and an hour later would show Wanda in private that she too can channel.

One is that Zimraphel saw Wanda channel and immediately derived how to do it herself was clericked by Sarenrae on the spot. That would be a very good thing to happen, obviously, and not in any way an emergency or a source of any danger.

The other is that she's been hiding her status as a cleric of Sarenrae from Gimildun, who is not wearing a sun-pendant because he's from Geb.

Wanda looks around carefully to see if she can spot Gimildun lurking menacingly in the background.

(She can't; he's still in the inn.)

Oh.

Oh, this is what the Valar have given her.

Beautiful, and so dear - not exactly what would heal the problems of Numenor, but what would?  And worth more than she's been given all her life till now.

Wanda gives Zimraphel her best smile, gestures her inside, and closes the door softly. She wants to offer her a hug but refrains, on the grounds that she hasn't yet determined what exactly she'd be hugging her about.

"You're a cleric of Sarenrae," she says. That is: Zimraphel, prayer (hands folded), Sarenrae (sun symbol), Zimraphel, channel (arms thrown wide open, smile)!

The Sun (the one in the sky, visible through the window), moves. When it moves alll the way around it will be "tomorrow". And then Wanda, pray, Pharasma (spiral), understand Zimraphel! (Maybe.) But also: tomorrow, Zimraphel pray Sarenrae, Zimraphel understand Wanda! (Emphatic nod: she knows that's a first-circle spell.)

Now for the worrying part. Gimildun, no Sun-pendant. Gimildun, not understand Sarenrae? Not smile Sarenrae?

"Oh, understanding you will be so helpful!"

And she shakes her head; no Pharazon doesn't smile at Sarenrae (as ?Arien? is called here?).

Then Wanda won't - uh, how to say this in mime -

She fetched the slate she uses to take notes when she's making her rounds. Stick figure time!

Wanda→→Gimildun understand Zimraphel pray Sarenrae: no! She crosses out the arrow and shakes her head emphatically.

She shrugs.  "He -" oh, Wanda still doesn't know their real names. "- Gimildun understands I pray.  He doesn't like it, but he doesn't try to stop it."

Wanda doesn't understand that second sentence but the first one is reassuring! Except that it brings back the mystery.

This morning - she points at where the sun was - Zimraphel didn't understand spells or praying. But Zimraphel is a cleric of Sarenrae, Zimraphel prays to Sarenrae. Why did Zimraphel say she didn't understand?

How to say this... it's time for stick figures.

Zimraphel and Gimildun go from there to here with Wanda.  Here, Sarenrae gives channels.  There, Sarenrae does not give channels.  ("Sarenrae not" - same gesture Wanda used to communicate channeling.)  These other gods (she sketches ?Ulmo?'s conch-shell, ?Aule?'s sword, and ?Mandos?'s scales) don't give channels there either.

Wanda points to the place Zimraphel and Gimildun came from. "Geb"?

Blank stare, and then she shakes her head.  "Numenor.  Arda."

Maybe Geb isn't called that in Geb, since they speak a different language. 

Geb or not Geb, it shouldn't be that hard to tell the difference. Wanda tries to draw a skeleton; this is pretty hard when her standard for normal people is stick figures Shelyn I'm so sorry but she hopes she can get it across - are there stick-skeletons where they came from?

Blank stare.  That looks like it might be some weird sort of stick-person, but she can't tell what it is?

...she wipes her part of the slate clean, and then draws a skull. Big, obvious skull, she can do that. With a crown. Yes/no?

... yes, the dead kings of Numenor are entombed in honor, if that's what Wanda is talking about?

Yes, her father Tar-Palantir just died, if that's what she's talking about?

After a few moments' confusion, Miriel hesitantly nods. 

"Geb", Wanda says grimly. 

Geb →→ Pharasma, Sarenrae no channel. Not Geb, yes channel.

Also, Pharasma hates Geb (crossed swords).

Oh.  They do know about Numenor.

And yeah, she was pretty sure Ulmo hates them now.

She nods soberly.

But now they're here and Sarenrae smiles on her and so everything will be fine! (For her. Not for everyone back in Geb. Sigh.)

So, just checking... Zimraphel in Geb →→ Zimraphel prays Sarenrae, no channel →→ Zimraphel come here, channel?

Yes!  Exactly!  She nods.

And also - when she was there, she also prayed to Ulmo (sketch a conch-shell), Aule (a sword), Manwe (a bird)...

(well, she did that occasionally.  A lot more than most people did).

Sarenrae would know not to give people powers that would only see them killed, in Geb. That doesn't mean Sarenare wouldn't reach out and pick people while they're in Geb, that's not - who Sarenrae is.

Wanda is fiercely proud of this stranger who grew up amid what must have been unimaginable horrors and was still Good enough to be clericked by Sarenrae and resourceful enough to flee the country. (And come all the way here still confused about clerics? - never mind that's not important right now -)

People growing up Good in a Lawful Evil country is the Andoran national identity. She's come to the right place.

Also: hug?

Hug.

She melts into the hug even more than she thought she would.  She thought this'd be a day for awkward negotiations and flirting with Pharazon, but instead - things are going so much nicer.

She'll get all the hug she wants!! She's a new (or possibly a secretly old) cleric of Sarenrae despite being from Geb! That's just so huggable!

Some time later, when the hug is finally finished, Miriel says, "You should know our real names now.  Miriel."  (She points to herself).  "Gimildun" (she points to his stick-figure still in the corner of the slate) "is Pharazon."

Wanda isn't sure if those are names or second names or titles or some other designators? "Zimraphel Miriel?" she checks. "I'm just Wanda." It only occurs to her after she says it that this is liable to get her called Just Wanda.

She doesn't say that like it's a correction.  More like it's a title.

... Miriel had better not give her real title lest it be even more confusing.

"No..." (shakes her head.)  "Miriel."

Wanda still doesn't understand the significance. Maybe Zimraphel is her family name, and Miriel is for friends? In that case she's honored to call her Miriel!

Miriel tries to think - after the revelations of the Valar's love, and Wanda's hug - what's important to ask now...

Oh.  There's still one important question.

"Does the king" (she sketches a crown since Wanda obviously knows about them) "of Andoran understand Saranrae?"

Oh no, that's a very legitimate question but Wanda has absolutely no idea how to explain in mime and stick figures that Andoran has no king! It's hard enough to explain to people with words - Galt tried to have a democracy and look where it got them.

She'll try to put off the 'king' question for tomorrow; hopefully what Wanda really wants to know is what gods the government and the powerful people who might become the government follow, not the exact way they're chosen. But it is important to get across that the government doesn't follow a single god to the exclusion of all others.

She draws a lot of little stick figures with a big crown over the group. Some follow the Sun, some the sword-and-sunburst, some the Thorny Rose, some the Bird or the Spiral. The leader (drawn bigger than the others) follows the Sword-and-Sunburst. And all these other symbols - the bow-and-arrow, the scales, the mug - are also fine (smiling stick figures!) - she tries to indicate that's not an exclusive list but that's pretty hard to get across.

But, for example, the pentagram or the skull: not alright! Frowning stick figures, crossed swords.

"So... the kings?... follow all of the Valar, and the ...High King?... follows Aule especially?  Good!"

If that is Aule?  She's still not sure.  And Arien isn't technically a Vala... but Osse isn't technically a Vala either, and still half the Numenorians would've called her one even back when most Numenorians were Faithful.

"And you have more than one king too?"  That actually feels like a relief to her!  Even though she has absolutely no idea whether that'd be a good or bad thing!  She really wants to ask Wanda how it works for Andoran!

... But what're those other two symbols?  She doesn't recognize them, unless the skull represents death?  If swords are clearly all right, then in what way would someone be following death or not?  And if it doesn't represent that, she's suddenly wondering what Wanda meant by the crowned skull earlier.

Miriel seems to approve of having plural rulers? She's so sensible! She probably learned it the hard way, living under King Geb, just as Wanda's ancestors learned from living under a Hellish tyrant.

This skull is for Nidal, a very different skull from Geb, but that's hard to explain and if Miriel doesn't know about Nidal (or Cheliax?) Wanda doesn't want to sadden or terrify her - certainly not with stick figures.

Back to a happier topic: people in Andoran follow different gods, but everyone here knows and loves Sarenrae. Not liking Sarenrae pretty much automatically makes you Evil. Stick figures + sun = smiles!

Ah yes, they like Arien just like Numenorians like(d) Osse.  If anything of what Miriel felt is unique to Arien, then she totally understands why everyone here values her!

Well! It seems they navigated all the difficulties and don't have anything more that's urgent until tomorrow when they can better understand each other! At least for a few minutes. Maybe Pharasma will give her something better, but mutual Comprehend Languages will work fine, it just won't last very long.

Tea? She gestures invitingly towards the kitchen, where there's a kettle and some cups and a jar with dry leaves in it.

"Something to drink or eat?  Yes, thank you!"  Miriel bobs a shallow curtsy to make hear meaning clearer.  "Andoran doesn't feel as hot as Umbar, but this's been a long day."

She'll follow Wanda into the kitchen, looking around curiously.  She hasn't seen many common people's kitchens before, so a lot of it will probably be new to her even if it's the same as in Numenor.

Wanda's kitchen isn't the most impressive in town (not even counting the inn with its fancy stove). All her children have moved out and cooking for two just isn't very efficient, so she kept gifting things things away until she has only the most basic pans and pots and so on left. Her time is better spent mending anything that needs it and making water and of course healing people than cooking; any complicated dishes mostly come from her neighbor these days, or from the inn if she hasn't planned ahead.

This isn't about serving the best food or having the fanciest equipment, though, it's about hospitality. You can't not offer guests to drink and eat at your table, they just got delayed by some other business first! There's a table and chairs and she can set out the nicer set of glazed-ceramic plates and cups, and there are scones and jam and half-day-old bread and hard cheese and some wrinkled apples and a jar of olives.

The fireplace itself is in the main room; it's banked and the window is open, but she can get it reasonably hot again in a few minutes. The big empty kettle goes on an iron frame that goes over the fire and then (making sure to catch Miriel's eye) Wanda holds her spiral pendant and gestures with her other hand and says something, and then -

- the kettle is suddenly full of water.

It's charmingly rustic.  Miriel smiles at the plates especially.  They look homemade, like she's never seen outside occasional prizes of war and museums.  The kettle frame puzzles her until she sees it in use, and then it does make sense.  It all looks - lived-in, something that makes sense.

And then, water appears.

"Another gift of the Valar?" she babbles.  "Ulmo gives water?  Fresh water, like from His rivers?"  

It's the gift of every god! 

Tomorrow, Miriel pray Sarenrae, Miriel water!

Every Vala?  Miriel can see some connection with Arien - the sun evaporates up the rain - but every one of them?  Even Mandos (of the Scales) and Aule (of the Sword)?

Yes, all of them! These poor people from Geb, of course even if they know clerics get spells other than healing they wouldn't know which ones.

Also, some of these she can use lots of times, all day. Look: water water water water water (out the open window)!

But some are only a few times. Wanda prayed today to understand Miriel, and that was once, and she will pray again tomorrow. Wanda and Miriel both channeled (wide circle gesture) and can do it a few times per day (she shows four fingers) but no more than that.

...there are probably some spells that only some gods give their clerics but Wanda doesn't think any of hers are like that and doesn't want to try explaining that with stick figures.

So...

Miriel takes her cup (carefully over a bowl) and holds out her sun necklace and happily reaches inside herself looking for something else that might feel like a gift from the Valar...

She can heal dying people by touching them. And she can be better at - convincing people, impressing them, affecting them, her spirit burning a bit more brightly in the eyes of others and also in the eyes of the world itself. This power can be used for herself, or gifted to other people.

Now that Wanda has drawn her attention to this, both of these abilities feel like they will run out after enough uses, just like the mass healing.

The cup isn't a dying person or a spirit, so she can't do anything magic to it.

No, sorry, she'll need to pray first! But then she'll be able to do it.

...actually, why can't Miriel pray right now? She hasn't prayed for spells today yet, so it should be possible, right? Or at least, it's worth trying, if Miriel understandably doesn't want to wait for tomorrow.

Wanda tries to mime "I suddenly got a bright idea", which may or may not work across cultural boundaries.

So! Wanda has prayed today (her finger indicates the sun going backwards), and can pray again tomorrow.

But Miriel can pray now! (And also tomorrow.) And then, probably, Miriel will get spells today.

...this means Wanda has to explain how to pray for spells without even a Comprehend Languages up. Well, she'll do her best.

So! To pray for magic, you need to pray for an hour. Drawing: sun goes around the sky and down below the earth and back again; divide the circle into twenty-four approximately equal segments (ugh), that's an hour. She needs to pray for an hour - pray pray pray while the Sun slowly creeps across an hour-division of the drawing - and mustn't stop. If she stops (Wanda mimes) that's bad, she has to start from the beginning. And then she will get spells, and can finally understand Wanda (fingers crossed!)

Wanda adds her best bird-stick-figure to the drawing, and prays a brief apology to Shelyn for not being a better artist, because it turns out art is surprisingly useful and Wanda suspects that treating it as merely a useful tool is wrong in Shelyn's eyes. She'll try to practice so next time she can enjoy communicating by drawing, instead of feeling vaguely ashamed of her stick-figures.

Also, the water is boiling and they should have their tea before Miriel starts praying for an hour. 

Wanda moves the kettle-frame off the fire. What would Miriel like to drink? She can have mint or chamomile (which she can hopefully identify by smell), in addition to or instead of the actual precious tea-leaves.

Wanda wants her to pray for... that long... praying that Arien will give her another magical power?

Why would she keep praying for that long?

... but yes, the mint would be lovely, please.  At least that's clear.

She has to pray for that long! If she doesn't she won't get spells! Wanda prays that long every morning! Other stick figures who get spells from gods also pray that long!

Wanda puts mint leaves in a teapot (vigger than the cups, with a short spigot), and some real tea leaves for herself in another. When it's done steeping they can pour it through this cloth strainer.

Oh, that's what the cloth is for!  Miriel had a metal tea ball at home, which she tries to sketch.

If praying that long is a normal way for people to get magic from the Valar... why?  Did they think the Three Prayers every year clearly weren't enough after how Numenor abandoned Eru, and so they made people pray that long every day?  Did they have a limited supply of magic and decide to give it to the people who were spending the longest in prayer?  She doesn't even try to communicate any of this, but the doubt's showing on her face.

Wanda's very sure this is how the world works but she has no idea why, or that it ever worked differently. 

If Miriel understood her, though, she might say: asking why the gods require an hour in prayer feels a bit like asking why they need clerics at all. Why not just do everything they want themselves, instead of giving people magic? There are many different answers, and some of them sound plausible but there are still many different answers going around.

All they know is, the world isn't how any one god would like it to be, and mortals have to do their part. And part of that is praying.

She can't say any of this with stick-figures, so she settles for pouring tea and serving snacks. 

It's good tea.  The mint's sharper than Miriel's had before.  Maybe it's the new air, or the walk, or not having the hopeless burden of leading Numenor, or having the loving presence of the Valar - but it's good tea.

Wanda will do her best to make Miriel feel at home, and if she wants a cosy spot to pray in Wanda will make sure she's not interrupted.

After finishing the tea, when Wanda gestures clearly indicating that she can pray now, Miriel hesitates.

Praying like she did on the seashore - that's one thing.  Praying for a whole hour, though, in here - why would anyone want to pray for that long?  At least, anyone who isn't literally her father endlessly repeating something that's never done any good?

And part of her wants to run to Pharazon and show him what the Valar have given her already, and tell him what their presence is like, and get him to change his ways and try praying too...

... But knowing Pharazon, that wouldn't work.  And she's not in Arda anymore.  She doesn't need to keep dancing around him.  At least not immediately.

If so many people here are praying for an hour... well, she can try it too.  At least once.

She stands, like at the Three Prayers.  It looks sort of silly indoors.  Against that feeling, she decides to start (in Sindarin) with some appropriate-sounding stanzas from the Song of the Sun and Moon.

"Ah! Arien great light that rules the day, before whom the creatures of darkness flee..."

Standing isn't objectively any sillier than kneeling, and lots of people do that. Praying out loud feels a bit weird, because Wanda often says private things to Pharasma, but no-one here can understand Miriel anyway.

Wanda will leave her to it. Maybe pray a little bit herself, asking Pharasma to guide the prayer of a new cleric to its intended target. This is part of how the world works and so kind of within Pharsma's remit, probably?

After some stanzas about the beauty of the sun (the Elves who wrote the Song can actually look at it; Miriel's taking that part on faith) and how it brings out rich new aspects of beauty in the whole world (she loves that!), Miriel gives up right after the Song starts talking about power and victory against Morgoth's servants.

She doesn't want war.  She didn't want it in Arda, where she was sure she and her father would lose if it lasted for any time.  She very much doesn't want it now, when she has no idea who would be fighting, and when she's just felt how the Valar love her and love everyone and want to help everyone...

... So she says that.  "And," she adds, "if there is going to be a war - there's always fighting somewhere in the colonies, at least - make it not so destructive.  And show me and Pharazon something good to do that isn't war...

"... and Pharazon, too.  I'm sure You know who he is.  Nudge him toward goodness, please - I don't see much in the histories of Your doing that very well - I don't know if You ever considered sending a different sort of messenger to Numenor? - but I know now that You want to..."

She continues like that a little before breaking into a song of the earliest days of the Numenorian expeditions to Middle-Earth, where they were helping teach the people there.

That is a valid prayer! She can sing or talk or think to herself, or she can dance or do any number of things. The important thing is that she's focusing on it and directing it correctly, and she is, she's praying so well, well done!

Sarenrae never wants war. Sometimes people She trusts tell her a war is necessary and then She doesn't try to stop it, but as far as She can see, it's just another name for organized mass hurting and killing of people. A name that people think is nicer than 'organized mass killing' (they're wrong), a name they think has a god behind it, but no more than that.

And there are always Good things to do instead. Showing mortals is hard, both innately and because there's a budget to work with, and Miriel isn't wrong that Sarenrae doesn't do it very well, but that's what She has mortal clerics for. She hopes Miriel will see and nurture the Good parts of Pharazon - they're the only parts of him that Sarenrae can see, and they are very definitely there. 

Her new cleric is Good and precious and beautiful and seen and loved and appreciated and so is everyone else, and She sends a little of Her feeling that that as Miriel prays. Not enough to overwhelm, only the lightest touch of the Sun shining on a mortal soul.

Miriel isn't asking for any particular spells so Sarenrae will give her two Comprehend Languages, and a Cure for the domain slot.

Miriel can feel Sarenrae's gentle warming gaze gradually settle on her as she prays. It's like what she felt at the seashore but less intense, because it has an hour to comfortably grow in, and it doesn't want to startle or distract her. It's a presence she can accept, a new direction she can mentally lean in as she prays.

And once an hour has passed, Miriel will abruptly realize she can perform two new pieces of magic. One heals at a touch, like the ability she already has, but this one works on any who are wounded and not only those at death's door. And the other will let her understand someone - at least for a little while.

Of course she's not asking for any particular magic!  She doesn't know what the Valar give out to people here, and she doesn't know what she might be wanting as soon as the next riders ride into town or something like that!  And she doesn't want to be begging like an impolite petitioner demanding something specific that she doesn't understand!

... well, all right, she could've asked for the one-way-translation spell.  But of course Arien realized she needed that.

Taken in that light, the healing spell might be ominous Foresight, but then people do get wounded every day even when there isn't any fighting.

She goes looking for Wanda to now actually talk with her some more - in the next room?  If not, then just outside?

Well if I gave you your other domain spell, you would definitely think it was ominous Foresight. 

I don't actually have ominous Foresight anymore, which is honestly pretty ominous all by itself, but healing people is always a good default. With time you'll learn to ask for other things if you want them!

Wanda is right here! She stayed close in case she had to tell people not to interrupt Miriel's (non-silent) prayers.

She holds out one hand toward Wanda and another up to her necklace and makes that mental motion!

"Arien gave me magic for hearing and understanding!"

Oh good that's a Comprehend Languages just like she used this morning! She's happy and  relieved that everything worked out and Sarenrae's new baby cleric is praying successfully, she heard some people fail their first time. 

(Wanda is of an age to be Miriel's mother, and  of herself as something like the community's godmother, being its midwife. She's always happy to see young people find their way in the world, although it's usually less dramatic than a cleric of Sarenrae fleeing Geb.)

"Wonderful! Then let me welcome you properly, to my home and to Fedele. The spell's time is limited - I really hope Pharasma will have a better one for me tomorrow - what would you like me to talk about?"

If Miriel doesn't have ready questions or can't make herself understood, Wanda is prepared to play Twenty Questions in reverse by suggesting topics until Miriel says 'yes' to something.

"Why 'limited time'* - or does Pharasma* have His reasons we don't know?"  She throws up her hands.  It's often futile to understand what the Valar do, but they interact with people so much here that she at least hopes enough to try.

"But - Andoran?  Tell me about Andoran?"

*She's repeating Wanda's Taldane words here, but (as Adunaic speakers could guess from the male pronoun) absolutely thinking of "Pharasma" as another name for Ulmo.

"Spells - don't last forever? I don't know why any spell lasts as long as it does and not less or more. Maybe wizards know, they say new spells can be invented." Wanda hasn't ever talked to a wizard about magic, but people pass through town and stay at the inn and wizards are always popular with children and so stories spread. "We clerics just get spells and use them, we don't - get told how the magic works. Except I guess very powerful clerics can ask their gods questions, so maybe they know? I'm not an expert on magic, I'm just a midwife." A very good one if she says so herself, but that doesn't mean understanding magic, just using it to cure people.

"Andoran is - I don't know what you want to know exactly, you didn't seem to know where we are on a map or recognize any other countries' names. Maybe that was because they're different in your tongue and you'll recognize them now, I don't know if that'll work" - she lists all the surrounding countries again. "Andoran is a good place with good people, a safe place for you to - find your way or learn things or whatever you need to do. We built it to be a good place, a good place to be Good in. There's no other country I'd rather live."

"...Maybe some people in other countries think the same about their country but I'm sure the ones in Cheliax and Isger don't, and I think the Galtans aren't very happy either." Since they were Chelish until recently, and then almost had a civil war, or maybe several wars, she's not sure.

She shakes her head at the country names; she still doesn't recognize them.

"'Powerful clerics' go where gods are and 'ask questions'?"  She sketches on the board a person walking to the symbols of the gods, and then on second thought sketches a ship around him.  She also wants to ask whether they're all Elves, but she doesn't have the words.  If the Valar are letting humans from here into their country -- she still doesn't think she actually wants to do that, but it'd be amazing.

About Andoran... it's good that Wanda thinks so well of it.  That doesn't tell her everything she wants, but it's something.

"Andoran -"  She sketches multiple crowns and people, sort of like the sketch Wanda made earlier, and looks questioning.

"Powerful clerics do go to the gods' homes, there's a spell for that! It's not what I meant, that was another spell for asking questions directly, but you're right that if they go there they can meet - maybe not the Gods themselves but definitely outsiders and other people who know them or work for them. And those people can also come here, it's rare and I've never met one but I think the clerics can bring them back, or maybe they're clerics themselves."

"But they don't sail there on ships," she clarifies. "They use a spell, like teleport but a different one, which just - brings them there. I'm not nearly a powerful enough cleric to cast something like that, I'm only second circle, it's something adventurers do in stories."

"Andoran doesn't have a king like most countries do. We - wanted to make very sure that a future king couldn't be Evil. So instead we made it so every five years, everyone in the country votes - that is, says who they want from their district to sit on the People's Council - and then the Council elects the Supreme Elect, who leads the country. But he's still bound by the laws, he's not a king. The Supreme Elect right now is Codwin, a paladin of Iomedae. Paladins are like clerics, the gods give them spells, but they're meant to fight Evil - in wars and so on - while clerics do, well, everything else."

Miriel's eyes go wide and a thin smile drifts across her face as Wanda's talking about Andoran.  But only a thin one.  She picks her words carefully, trying to repeat a few scraps of Wanda's words...  "A 'Council' is good - but, Andoran likes 'paladins'?  What if 'five years' from now Andoran 'Evil'?  Then 'vote' for whom?"

Well, Numenor did worse if anything; the Kings were among the first to abandon the Valar... but it's still something that's immediately in her mind.

"Why would everyone suddenly become Evil? And - an Evil king can hurt their people. Because he has all the power, he commands the army and writes the laws. So just one Evil person - or I guess several, an Evil king might get deposed, but even a few Evil people ruling a country would be terrible. But if all the people are Evil already, I don't think a Good king is going to save them."

Wanda isn't sure how this is landing with Miriel, but - oh. Foreigners already have a hard time understanding democracy; how much harder must it be for someone who doesn't know the context?

"So this all happened because of - a lot of history, I'll try to tell it very briefly, let me know if you want me to keep talking until your spell runs out."

"Andoran used to be part of Cheliax. A hundred years ago there was a terrible civil war and eventually the church of Asmodeus, the Evil God of Hell, won it. I - honestly have no idea how this sounds to someone who doesn't already know it - I'd say you can't imagine what true Evil ruling a country is like but maybe you can if you're from Geb - anyway. Forty years ago we rebelled and after we won our freedom we - wanted to make certain it couldn't happen again. I wasn't born yet, my parents told me about the rebellion and about Chelish rule before it, everyone's parents or grandparents told them - anyway. We made it the most basic and unchangeable law that everyone is free, that you can't enslave people. We made it the law that you can't hurt innocent people, torture them and - a thousand other things."

"And we made it law so there were no more nobles and no king, because the civil war was all the nobles fighting each other and arguing over who was the rightful heir, leading armies against each other - which meant forcing normal people to fight each other - until they had all killed each other and let Hell take over the country. Because they all thought that - who was the closest male descendant of Gaspodar or something - was somehow more important than not making people kill their neighbors and letting Hell take over. So we decided there shouldn't be kings anymore. Kings think who your father is is more important than who you are, for ruling a country. People electing their ruler aren't that stupid."

Miriel doesn't know what it's like to have Evil ruling a country - Wanda's heard of Numenor, but she must not have heard how Tar-Palantir was good - oh, she suddenly realizes what it must have been like to people in Middle-Earth to have Gimilzor and then Pharazon ruling rapaciously, nominally in Tar-Palantir's name.  And if that's where Wanda and her world has heard of Numenor from...

...and even that, Miriel knows, would quail before being ruled by Morgoth.  Or any of the evil Maiar following him.  She hasn't heard of Asmodeus at least by that name, and enough connotations come through with the language-magic that she's doubting whether "Hell" is anything she's heard of at all, but she's pretty sure it has to be something like that.

And she knows she should be offended by what Wanda's saying about kings (Wanda might get a flash of offense from her face) but really, when she thinks about it - if the people of Numenor wanted to choose someone else whom the Valar supported, she'd be happy to step down and rest.

And... she says aloud, with a few words of Taldane and a fierce smile, "If the 'people' of Andoran learned 'goodness' by 'rebellion' against Asmodeus - good for you!"

"Now - where is Asmodeus?"  If there's still a map visible, she'll wave her hand over it; if not then she'll name a few country names.

(The ten minutes on the spell might be about to run out?)

"Cheliax is west of here - minus Andoran, and minus Galt now, they rebelled ten years ago". 

"Asmodeus still - in Cheliax!?"

"Yes. ...we're at war, obviously. So's Galt and most everyone else. I hope - the people will taldane taldane taldane." (The translation spell cuts off halfway through.)

The alternative is that the Asmodeans dig in forever like Nidal and she really doesn't want to contemplate that. She wants her children, at least, to live to see Cheliax free. And Miriel has the entirely correct reaction to first hearing about Cheliax but that wasn't really in doubt, she's a cleric of Sarenrae.

Oh.

She really hopes this isn't like the Siege of Angband in the First Age, when the Fathers of Men and the Elves were penning Morgoth up in Angband... until he decided to break out and none of them could defeat him again (except for Beren and Luthien, and they only momentarily).

But she doesn't know how to ask that and get a useful answer.  If you'd asked a human woman during the Siege - even Andreth herself - she could've easily thought things were going well there too.

Maybe it isn't.  How can she say it in Taldane...  "Gods vote war?  Sarenrae, Iomedae..."  If the Valar are really helping here, maybe it would be enough.  And maybe they won't have to sink Beleriand in the end.

(She's not going to spend her second language spell just now; she at least wants to think first.)

"Ooh, the gods should vote - their churches get votes but I don't know if they ask the gods directly how to vote -" Wanda belatedly notices Miriel's look of incomprehension.

Um. So she needs to simplify, because she didn't mention organized Churches yet and for all she knows Miriel might not know they exist.

"Iomedae votes for war, very much. But Sarenrae and Shelyn think war is bad and - want a better way?" How to get this across... 

Stick figure time! Wanda cleans the slate, and draws a vertical line. Left side is Cheliax, right side is Andoran.

An Iomedan stick-paladin (sword and sunburst) comes to the border. An Asmodean devil (trident and pentagram) opposes him: crossed swords! Sometimes the paladin kills the devil and this results in a happy paladin and the border moves forward. But then another devil comes and the paladin dies and the border moves back. (Wanda is maybe extrapolating a bit how the war works but the principle seems sound?)

Now a Sarenite and a Shelynite come to the border. They don't fight the devils, they sneak around them and find unarmed stick-figures in the Chelish rear. And then (maybe! sometimes!) some of those figures become Sarenite or Shelynite and escape back to Andoran (happy stick figures!) And sometimes, a lot of Chelish stick-figures become Shelynite and roses grow up all around them and they kill the devils themselves and the border moves back by a big chunk of slate, and that is Galt. Wanda's best guess is that Sarenrae and Shelyn (and Abadar?) are hoping for another Galt, and not for a bigger war.

So the Valar are disagreeing, and Manwe doesn't want war... that doesn't sound promising.  Her expression droops.  Teaching and helping Asmodeus's slaves is a good thing, and she'd be happy to join that along with Arien... but if this's anything like the First Age, it's not going to be enough.

Well.  Unless Asmodeus is about to break out tomorrow, she doesn't need to figure this out right away.

"Thank you," she says, bobbing a quick curtsy and then opening her arms for a hug.  "I'm going to go think... and maybe talk to Pharazon.  Gimildun.  Tell him about Sarenrae."

Wanda really hopes she said the right things! If Miriel wants to fight in the war, or even to vote for war, Wanda doesn't know that Sarenrae or Her church forbid this but she's not entirely sure. And she doesn't think Sarenrae is the kind to drop a cleric over - almost anything, really, as long as the cleric isn't outright Evil or something, but again she doesn't know for sure and, well. Even if Wanda goes for Cheliax, she'll presumably talk to an actual experienced Sarenite before she gets there?

...hug! Hugs she can do all day. She's very confident the gods are in favor of hugs.

After another hug, Miriel walks back across town to look for Pharazon.  And if she sees anyone who might need her healing, that's great too!

Meanwhile, Pharazon has decided that he's going to need to show someone his skills if he wants to make his way in this world as anything more than a peasant.

He's got a sword at his side, and that's a line of work he enjoys that someone's probably going to be willing to hire him for.  Besides, it's better than sitting around here.

So, after a while, he stumbles through asking the innkeeper (with mixed words and charades) about a good spot to practice with his sword.

He can use do it over there and not be in anyone's way. It's just a nice open spot, though, there's nothing else there. What's he going to do alone with his sword, practice acrobatics?

Meanwhile, it's growing late, and travellers start trickling into the inn: a party of four going from the city to a village down the coast, three of them armed and (poorly) armored; a farmer and his son from an inland village, with a wagon full of produce that they'll take to the city tomorrow; the mailman passing through on his circuit.

They can see Pharazon practicing strokes with his sword!

If he's found a wooden post that nobody's using for anything, that might be taking the place of an adversary.  But either way, almost all the time he's pulling his strokes in midair.  (He doesn't want to nick the only sword he has with him.)  He's very clearly done this before.  Sped up just a little, it might almost look like a dance.

The three jewels in the hilt of his sword glitter in the sunlight.

It's a pretty sword and he's a pretty enough man but it's not very legible as practice; the locals are used to people practicing the sword by sparring and staging mock show-fights, or else by hitting a post really really hard. (Please don't hit their post hard, they don't want it broken.)

Maybe he's a Sarenite? The Sarenites foreigners in the couple do sword-dances. (They look cooler than this, though.)

A few kids watch him for a while, but no-one bothers or interrupts him.

...That fellow there who just rode in, carrying a bag, has the air of someone who looks like he's on a mission.  Pharazon pauses his swordplay to go over and take a closer look.

Yes, he's got a badge with what looks like a heraldic eagle.

Pharazon nods to him and points to his eagle.  "Andoran?"

He must be a foreigner. "Andorani post. See, she's carrying a letter." He half-pulls a letter out of the closest mailbag in demonstration. "Can I help you?"

Oh, a messenger!  Maybe even an organized postal system?  Pharazon smiles and nods.

"Andoran -" he wants the word for "want" but he doesn't have it "- get -" and he points to his sword.

Andoran gets sworded? Andoran... got him his sword? By post? - nah, he's got nothing. The man doesn't seem hostile or crazy, at least? 

"I have no idea what you're trying to tell me. - Oh hey Ciolli - good evening to you - d'you know what's up with him?"

"No idea," says the innkeeper, now in the yard welcoming the day's guests, "he came in with a lady friend this morning. Got coin, but they don't speak our language."

"Well I can see that."

To Pharazon: "did you want to send a letter?" This doesn't seem likely, seeing how he's not e.g. holding out a letter and a couple of coppers, but the postman really doesn't know what else he can do for a stranger who can't talk.

Pharazon doesn't understand; he cups his hand to his ear.

Is he hard of hearing? "DO YOU WANT A LETTER CARRIED?"

"No, no, he doesn't understand the language. The woman spent two hours pointing at things and writing down words."

That sounds like it's a helpful correction?

He points to himself; mimes walking with his fingers; "... Andoran today."

"You arrived in Andoran today. And you want a letter carried?"

Cups his hand to his ear again, and then points to his sword.

He's deaf and he wants to send his sword by post that's probably not it.

Think it through. The man approached him because he's a postman. (Or because he carries a badge with an eagle? Anyway, he didn't walk away when he explained he was a postman.) 

He can't speak or understand him. He wants - something to do with his sword. What do swords have to do with the post? Sometimes... bandit swordsmen attack postmen? Sometimes postmen fight off bandits or monsters with swords? The man has noticed he only has a bow and wants to offer him his sword? 

Or - maybe he wants to offer him his sword less literally? But hiring guards is obviously not budgeted for this circuit. It's obvious because, if the post was going to pay for a guard, he'd already have one. (It's also obvious because if this was a dangerous circuit that needed a guard, he wouldn't be riding it.)

...nope, he's got nothing. Apologetic shrug. Can he go stable his horse now.

Pharazon groans.  He's humbled himself so far that he's seeking service as a common swordsman... and he hasn't been able to get it!

Well, at least he wasn't refused.  The Andoran officer(?) just didn't understand him.

He'd better work on Taldane some more... or see what Miriel has been up to.

He carefully wipes down his sword, obviously disappointed.

Miriel shows up just in time to see him sheathing the sword.

"Hello, Pharazon," she says with the shallowest nod.  "I hope you didn't find anyone worth fighting?"

"Just practicing.  We should show them a proper quoit... if they don't have them already; this town doesn't seem the most used to swordsmen.  And practicing my Taldane too.  I've been thinking about what to do here in this world."

"Me too.  And I've got some answers."

Pharazon doesn't let that disturb him.  If Miriel managed to communicate something to some new friends of hers, and find some skill they wanted... he'll see if he can learn enough Taldane to chart his own course.  Hopefully.

"What choices did you find?  Got a talent you didn't mention for sailing or something?"

His put-downs sting a lot less here than they did before, when her political position in Numenor really was at least half as fragile as he'd been insinuating.

Still, she almost wants to respond with Arien's healing magic... but it wouldn't be proper to use the Valar's gifts just for bragging.

"You could say a talent for prayer."  She holds up the sun from her necklace.  "It turns out the Valar were happy to give me the same magic they gave Wanda.  Why don't you try it too?"

The Valar are intervening right here with Miriel?  Well, that's unsettling.

Time to attempt to salvage something, while not letting on how much this bothers him... though that's probably a lost cause despite all his practice at hiding his feelings.

"They gave you the language-magic too?  What'd you find out?"

"Apparently magic is well known and common here; there're 'clerics' who get spells from the Valar everyday, and 'wizards'" (she uses the Taldane words) "who do it without any Valar.... maybe the 'wizards' are Elves?"  She shrugs.  "So now I'm a 'cleric' of Arien and I'll get magic every day.  As long as I pray everyday, apparently.

"And there's no king here in Andoran; everyone votes for who gets to be on the Council, and they choose the leader, and they chose someone who's some special sort of 'cleric' of Aule.  Apparently that works here!  And I think it's a good thing."

Well, part of that's worse (the Valar are giving her magic every day?) and part of it better (the Valar aren't singling her out uniquely).  And also interesting... he doesn't like the idea of working for a follower of Aule, even though he's not going to turn down the opportunity unless he finds a better one.  Especially since, if the people choose their leaders, maybe some years from now... well, he was popular at home, maybe he could be popular here too?

"And what're this Council and their leader doing?"

"Fighting the Siege of Angband.  Almost.  One of Morgoth's old lieutenants - it sounds like - has taken up rule over the country next door, Cheliax."

How do you even respond to that?

"How's that going -" no, nobody here is going to know, and the people who know won't answer honestly.

"What's that Maia planning to do -" no, nobody here is going to know or answer honestly to that either.

"Let's find out which side of the war we want to join -" no, Miriel swallows whole the Elves' propaganda line about the First Age.

Miriel continues, pressing her maybe-advantage at Pharazon's confusion.

"So we're in something that actually matters.  And I don't want the Valar to have to drown a continent again."

Oh.  Of course.  When the Valar fight... you really want them to be fighting through humans and elves and orcs, because the alternative is terrible for anyone caught in their way.

"Let's hope this lieutenant - what's his name? - is willing to stay put rather than scare the other Valar into responding more directly.  Maybe they've learned better and that's why they're handing out magic.  How do they choose who to give it to?"

"Wanda called him 'Asmodeus'; I don't know if he has any name we'd recognize.

"And - I don't know.  But they only give it if you pray for it for a whole hour."

"A whole hour?  Why?"

Well, it's not like that's going to stop him.  If he did want to take their offer of magic.  Which he doesn't.  Unless they're actually willing to offer...

Shrug.  She sees he's actually considering it, and doesn't want to push him away from it.

Pharazon stomps back across the inn's yard, glad that at least Miriel isn't pleading even though he guesses she intended exactly that response.

He was looking for employers.  Praying for magic isn't any different.  Really.  He can't usurp the Valar, but he wasn't planning to usurp the King of Andoran back until Miriel told him they didn't have a king.

Does he want to make the Valar aware of him?  Well, they're already aware of Miriel so it probably doesn't matter.

(He still doesn't like the idea.)

... Or there's an idea.

If the Valar - and Maiar, like Arien - are handing out magic here, maybe this Asmodeus is too?  Maybe Pharazon can find out if he's a better leader than the rest of the Valar, like he's wondered about Morgoth...

He walks around the corner of the inn to where no one's watching or visibly listening, stands with his hands held up high just like the Kings of Numenor at the Three Prayers, doesn't bother to brush off the beetle climbing up his pant leg, and speaks aloud in (whispered) Adunaic.

"O Asmodeus, if you are listening and wish to answer me - are you someone who is interested in things like this song?"

He sings one of the songs composed about his storming of the city of Tul-Varinis in the Dark Lands south of Middle-Earth, for his own wealth and glory and the survival and prosperity of the Numenorian Empire.

But does the song say he ate his conquered enemies? Well, eating ("looting") their stuff is also acceptable, as long as it's for his personal wealth. The survival and prosperity of the Numenorean Empire doesn't matter unless it contributes to his own, more than the risk he took in fighting a war.

And does the song say he procreated with his conquered enemies, that bit is very important! Urgathoa is worried that Her new cleric isn't focusing enough on that bit.

Anyway, it's not a very promising start. She notices his prayer because She has been watching her new cleric, but it's not especially targeted at Her as of yet. And She does want him to get spells, so She drops the lightest whisper She can into his mind. (Urgathoa isn't as good at this as some other gods; Her lightest touch doesn't mean something that's hard to notice, it means you don't get a headache afterwards.)

Pharazon abruptly feels something draw his attention to the joined concepts of IMMORTALITY and PROCREATION.

Oh, the Empire's prosperity is totally his, even more how he's thinking of it than how it comes through in the song.  When the song was written, he was still officially the viceroy's son; now he's King.

And procreation... doing that with conquered enemies was beneath the honor of a viceroy's son, not that he ever cared about it much...

... until now he suddenly does feel something in his head.

Pharazon quickly calms himself.  Wasn't he hoping for a response?

As soon as he thinks about immortality - just like the last several times he thought about it - he's yearning for it.  The Elves have it.  The Valar have it.  They haven't been sharing it.  Unless they do share it here?  Will Asmodeus share?

Procreation... yes, he wants Miriel.  In multiple ways.  Including in that way.  And he wants to see his son growing strong... (A few flashes of an old poem on sons growing strong, dating back into the First Age, dart through his mind.)

That's better! 

Now he just needs to keep that state of mind for the rest of the hour, and keep praying.

Now that he's gotten a positive-feeling response, he finds it much easier to keep praying.

His thoughts keep straying back to war on one hand, and immortality on the other.  If Asmodeus can put him in a place where he'll find victory in war... though getting that from Asmodeus would probably involve getting on the other side of the war, and he doesn't know what that would mean.  And if the gift of immortality is on offer... he definitely yearns for it.

More immediately, though, he definitely wants some magic.  Even more specifically, a language spell.  And if there's other useful magic he doesn't know about that won't hurt him or people he isn't meaning to hurt, he'll happily accept that too.

Then he can have two spells for understanding people for ten minutes! And a spell for making himself twice as tall and eight times as heavy for one minute. He can also, separately, make himself much stronger or deal a little bit more damage for a few seconds.

(Technically he can also do all these things for other people instead, but why would you do things for other people?)

Oh, sometimes doing things for other people can be useful - you can get them to do things for you!

Hmm, he didn't use a sun necklace, or his own star emblem, like Wanda did with her shellfish...  The closest thing to an emblem of Morgoth that he can think of is a dragon, or a black square, but even so those wouldn't be emblems of Asmodeus.  Is he getting any sense there?  It's not like he's going to show it to everyone, but it might be useful.

The beetle that was crawling up his leg has reached his chest while he prayed, and nestles there fat and contented. It fans its wings for a few moments to cool itself, making a slight noise.

Pharazon might be getting more of a sense of being watched than is normal for insects.

Oh, a beetle.

Like Manwe has eagles, Asmodeus has beetles?  Maybe?

... Now he shouldn't go telling anyone about beetles, of course, because presumably the people around here know Asmodeus likes beetles, and perhaps Miriel's heard it already.  But he should definitely go using his new spell and... maybe not tell anyone who it comes from.  

... If that's something he can get by without saying.

Well, he might as well ask; presumably Asmodeus has dealt with this question before?  "Do you have any suggestions about working in secret like that?"

Answering mortals is really expensive. Figure it out yourself, little king.

Pharazon goes back to the inn, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone who might be helpful to talk to.  Ideally someone who isn't that messenger, though.

But he ends up nodding to Miriel.  "I guess I'll be praying after all."

"Someone gave me some more of that translation magic, I think."

This's almost everything she's been hoping for!

"Who!?  And what did you say!?  And --"  She's lost for any more specific words than "did you rethink your entire life" which probably wouldn't go well.

"I don't know who.  But whoever it is, it's someone who doesn't mind my plans to try to make something of myself here."

... On second thought, he should try to make his plans sound a little more like something the good Valar would endorse.  How about what he was thinking before he heard from Asmodeus on the other side...  "There was room for Balan and Haldad to make something of themselves in the Siege of Angband, after all, and I'm pretty sure I'm better trained than they were."

... That isn't wrong.  At all.  Though she would've thought hearing from the Valar would've changed him more.

"You're right.  Did you feel any presence?"

"Yes, but I can't identify it like you could."

He shrugs, and looks for someone who'd be useful to talk with using his translation magic...

There's the innkeeper, the postman, the four armed young men from the city, all the townspeople... 

Wanda is also out and about and is talking animatedly to two of the non-dwarf short people.

Not Wanda; he feels it'll be less dangerous to start with someone who isn't already getting magic from the Valar.

So, he walks up to those armed young men.  He nods in greeting, and says what he's pretty sure is "Hello" in Taldane - at least, the common greeting he's heard from most everyone around here.

And then, if they aren't acting unfriendly, he... moves his hands the way that comes naturally to him in terms of new translation-magic-associated reflexes.

Oooh, an exotic-rich-looking swordsman mage! That is: a fellow adventurer!!

"Well met! I am Orlando Caladri, of the White Gulls. And these are Luca, Nicola Fiesi and Anton Paler."

("I still think Hawks is better," Anton grumbles sotto voce.)

"Pharazon."  He points to himself.  And then he points to them.  "Andoran?"

"We're Andoren", Orlando corrects his pronunciation. "And you?"

Communication!

"Numenorian."

They look at each other.

"Is that... in Casmaron?" asks Anton. (It's pretty clear he's guessing.)

Pharazon holds out his hands and shrugs.  He doesn't know where Casmaron is, and he'd rather not say he's from a different world until he has some better idea of how to keep his secret about Asmodeus.  "In Numenor - magic - in Andoran."

"You teleported to Andoran?"

    "If he were a teleport wizard he'd know if he came from Casmaron or not," Anton says firmly.

"Someone else teleported you to Andoran?" Orlando amends. "And now you're on a quest looking for a way home?"

    "Andoran is a good place to be," Luca objects.

"Says someone who's never been out of it."

Pharazon nods to Orlando's first question.  "Someone else.  I not know who, not know place."  

"That sucks, man." Privately Orlando is thinking it sounds like the cool kind of thing that happens to Real Grown-Up Adventurers (tm).

    "It is a good place to be though."

"How can we help?"

How should he communicate this...  oh, he thinks he has enough words now that they've given him the right preposition!

"Andoran... coins for" (taps his sword) "?  Coins for magic?"

"You can be an adventurer for hire! If you're strong enough, someone's always hiring in the city."

    "Or you can just sell the spells. What kind of caster are you?" Anton notices Pharazon's look of frustration; he clearly doesn't know the language well enough. "Wizard, sorcerer, cleric... something else?" he prompts.

"For hire?  Someone?  What kind of someone?"

(Yes, language magic is really handy at giving him new words!  Asmodeus has really helped him here!)

"If you want to fight monsters, the government organizes patrols and bounties and so on. And the Consortium is always hiring up north - they're the ones on the forest border, they fight monsters and fey and druids and so on."

    "If you want to fight Evil you can join the army or go to the Worldwound or join a party raiding across the border."

"Or if you're good with ships you can help chase slavers - we do that a lot in Andoran, we sink the slavers and rescue the slaves and set them free - there's a ton of public subscriptions for it, it always has funding."

"What monsters?  Slavers?..."  He moves to pulls out his paper (which isn't yet full) but on second thought decides to not sketch different animals and dragons from Middle-Earth just yet.

"... Worldwound?"  Not many connotations came through the magic, but the ones that are there sound absolutely disturbing even though he doesn't think he's interested in "fighting evil."

"Uh... depends on how strong you are? Spiders, owlbears, goblins, river drakes, werewolves, giant eyeballs..."

    "There are no giant eyeballs." 

"I talked an adventurer who fought an eyeball."

    "Maybe it was a giant and his eyeball."

"It was floating. Anyway... The slavers are - Cheliax sells people into slavery, to Osirion or Taldor or somewhere else out East, and they ship them by sea, and we catch them on the way there."

    "The Worldwound is - I thought everyone in the world heard about the Worldwound - it's a giant portal to the Abyss that opened when Aroden died. Way up north, past Isger and, like, four other countries, it's really far. Demons keep coming out of it and they want to kill and eat everyone. Lastwall and Mendev are holding the border, they're Iomedae's countries, full of paladins. A lot of adventurers go there, because it's very Good to fight against the demons. And also, you know, stops everyone from being eaten. I don't know if they pay people, though."

"People collect donations for Lastwall, it stands to reason they'd use them to hire adventurers."

Spiders, some sort of bears, goblins... those all sound normal; he nods along.

But - "... giant floating eyeballs!?"  That's weirder than anything he's ever heard of!

He shudders at the Worldwound.  If it hasn't gotten exaggerated in the rumors, it sounds horrendously dangerous... whatever demons are and whatever the Abyss is.  And... the way they talked about teleporters earlier, perhaps "it's this far away" might not have so much meaning in this world?  "You go worldwound?  Fight demons?  And - who Aroden?"

It's not half as weird as some other stories floating around taverns!

"I wish we were going to fight demons in the Worldwound, we'd get stronger so quickly," grumbles Orlando.

    "No! Bad Orlando! Stronger first, then Worldwound," Anton says firmly.

"Yeah. That. Anyway. Aroden's a god - was a god - who was supposed to come rule Cheliax a century back, but He died instead. Which caused, uh, pretty much everything bad that ever happened. Including the Worldwound opening."

    "I guess maybe it didn't cause anything terrible in Casmaron, if you haven't heard about it."

... A Vala who died?  Who was supposed to come rule over the place that's now being ruled by Asmodeus?  Whose death came right before disasters?

Put it that way, and it sounds very much like Morgoth.

"... Maybe?  Not know?  Gods fight; Aroden dead?  You wish Aroden...?"

This provokes a heated argument.

"The gods fought alright, it's even called the Godwar, but now they won't say who fought whom or why."

    "Well obviously Asmodeus -"

"Well obviously he'd say that regardless of what really happened!"

    "Anyway, yeah, I wish Aroden didn't die."

"Because it opened the Worldwound and started the Hellwar and drowned a country?"

    "Because He was a good god!"

"He was the god of the Chelish Empire and the Taldane Empire and there's nothing Good about either of them."

    "Well not now obviously but He'd have fixed it!"

"Guys. Guys, let's not fight." In front of the mysterious stranger and everything.

    "Maybe He was an alright god but gods shouldn't rule people, every single other god that rules a country is Evil."

"Abadar's not Evil."

    "OK, fine, but no god that rules a country is Good."

"It can be good for a country to be ruled by a god!"

    "Oh yeah? Who voted for Abadar?"

"He overthrew an empire to free Osirion, that counts!"

    "How does it count if you don't do an election afterwards?"

Well, he hadn't meant this to be controversial!  That tells him something in itself - something good, probably, for his chances of getting somewhere.

"Gods fight... many gods both sides?  No people fight?"  That's not how he heard it, at all.  Maybe it's not the same war.

"And who Abadar?  If gods not rule - how people, gods --"  He doesn't have the words, and maybe leaving the end of the question vague will get a better answer?

"Probably lots of them fought, yeah, if Asmodeus or someone could solo Aroden then probably it would have happened earlier?"

    "Aroden definitely had allies. Including Iomedae."

"People didn't fight in the godwar, how would you even do that, the gods weren't here -"

    "People fought for other reasons, like in the Hellwar, but that was after He died, not the other way around."

"Abadar's the god of trade, travel, merchants - His sign is the balanced scales -"

    "He's also the god of banking and usury in other countries but we outlawed that."

"People rule in most places anyway? Like, Iomedae doesn't rule Lastwall, she just gives a lot of them their magic powers. And probably gives them advice and stuff. But Lastwall elects their leader."

    "Only when the last one dies, though, they're not a real democracy like we are."

"People rule most countries, not gods. Does a god rule in - Numenorian? Who is it?"

Then he's not Morgoth.  Probably.  If they're understanding it correctly.

Pharazon shakes his head.  "No god.  No electing.  No god giving magic."

Meanwhile, Miriel has also noticed Wanda nearby.

As soon as she doesn't look deep in conversation, Miriel runs over to her.  "Wanda!  Pharazon now pray!  Magic!"

"That's incredible!" What are the chances? Or - did the gods select both of them back in Geb, and helped them leave it?

"Who did he pray to?" She thought Miriel said Pharazon didn't like Sarenrae. "What god?"

Miriel doesn't have any language magic active (her second casting is tingling in the back of her mind uncast), but she gets Wanda's emotion!  And the question "who".

Shrug.  "Pharazon -" shrug.

"We should check."

Pharazon is - over there, talking to some out-of-towners Wanda doesn't recognize. She walks over.

"What do you mean, no god giving magic?"

Oh, he's telling them about Geb. Opening up is probably a good sign, even if he doesn't seem to trust Wanda. Or maybe it's Miriel he doesn't trust.

Wanda will - stick around where she can clearly hear the conversation but isn't introducing on it in a socially awkward way. If they wanted privacy they wouldn't talk loudly in the inn's public room.

Shrug.  "People talk to gods; gods not talk to people.  Now - many people say all gods evil; not talk to gods.  I not talk to gods when in Numenor.  Now -"  He theatrically holds out his hands.

Oh, good for him.

Oh, good for him.

It's probably very easy to become convinced that all the gods are Evil, if you grow up in Geb. And aren't a natural Sarenrite. Some amount of bitterness and spite - and paranoia - is only to be expected!

"Wait, are you from Rahadoum? They outlawed worshipping the gods and being clerics."

    "Maybe there's another country like Rahadoum in Casmaron?"

Wanda considered the Rahadoum theory but rejected it, because Rahadoum was ruled by Cheliax for a while and they probably speak Taldane, and more importantly because Miriel agreed her home country was ruled by a skeleton king.

What will Pharazon say?

Oh, there is another place willing to reject the gods even when they're handing out magic!  He might want to ally with them!

"Like Rahadoum?  Maybe?  Not know Rahadoum.  Not outlawed in Numenor, but -"  He waves his hand to say "so-so."

He's not sure just how little time he has left on the spell, so one more question - "When you go?  Go somewhere?"

Yeah, that's Geb.

"We're going on tomorrow. Hunting monsters."

    "Tracking down sheep-eating spiders or something," Luca says glumly.

"Better than sewer rats."

    "Well we hope there's enough spiders or something for us to taldane taldane taldane up tomorrow!"

Pharazon's spell runs out, although he can recognize some words without it now.

Yes he can recognize some words; his good memory has stood him in good stead often before now.

"Spiders," he echoes in Taldane with an emphatic nod.  He slaps his sword.  "Many spiders."

("Many" is something of an exaggeration, at least for those he himself helped slay.)

"All adventurers have to start with spiders. You look like you're a ways past that?" It's a very good bet, if he's the kind of adventurer who gets Teleported around.

He cups his hand to his ear.

He could recast the spell, but is this the best time?

...he repeats what he said, louder and enunciating more clearly.

He shakes his head.  "Magic.  Numenor talk Adunaic; I talk Adunaic; Andoran talk --"

(he forgets the name of the language.)

"Taldane," Anton says at the same time as Luca firmly says "Andorani."

They glare at each other. "If every nation could rename a language after itself," Luca says, "you would have to concede that to the west they really do speak Chelish. And yet their language is -"

"Don't say it!" Orlando exclaims. "Look, can we all agree on Common? Language is a possession of the commons, is it not?"

"When asked by a foreigner what language you speak, replying 'why, the common tongue' seems rude," Anton comments. Then he blinks. "What was that about magic? Did you use a translation spell earlier?" In which case he's not sure how to unconfuse Pharazon by giving him a single word as the name of the language. He might accept "Andorani", but Anton has principles.

Uncomprehending stare.

"Did you use comprehend languages," Anton asks. It's the one spell whose name in Common - that is, whose name in common use (*), across all Avistani languages, is the same as its verbal component. The verbal component is the same for the arcane and divine versions, which is a quine of nominative determinism evidence that wizards started out reverse-engineering common cleric spells a deep insight into the nature of this spell and magic itself, which he will understand once he is much more cunning.

In practical terms that means every caster pronounces those two words in exactly the same way and so can readily recognize them, regardless of accent and other mortal accidents.

(*) That is, common use among casters and arcanists, who are obviously the only people who matter for this matter.

They figured it out!  He heard the same words he'd used to cast the spell, but he didn't see the hand gestures.  Maybe they cast the same spell?  Or maybe they're just talking about it?

"Yes!" he says in Taldane, enthusiastically nodding his head.  And then he continues in Adunaic:  "I would be happy to kill more spiders.  Are they common around here?"

Anton very clearly didn't cast Comprehend Languages! Really it ought to have been clear to anyone that he didn't cast any spell just then, that's a very freshman mistake to make - oh, the man must be a cleric.

And he doesn't have it prepared right now, why would he? In fact he doesn't even have it in his spellbook, because it'd be a waste of good money when all his adventuring for the immediate future is going to be inside Andoran. It's one of those classics everyone learns in school and then promptly forgets about until third circle.

He gestures that he doesn't understand. Hopefully the man has forgotten about his original question of what the local language is rightfully called?