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Apr 29, 2024 4:03 AM

but first circle elie and naima are going to have one anyway

When Inquisitor Shawil's adventuring party returns to Mut, the place is a ruin of what it was. The population has fled to the Thuvian side of the river, where they've erected temporary shelters and are doing what they can for the sick, discussing in hushed voices whether they need or want to buy the medicine from the Thuvian traders to cure the scorpion paralysis, and what it will mean if they can't and end up signing one of the contracts to work in Thuvia for a harvest. The other side of the river is deserted, although the occasional unnatural puffs of disturbed dust and sand hint that the ghost scorpions are still about, crawling through fields and homes like they own the place.

Abdul's daughter Naima, who only left a month or so ago and still has her baby in a sling, takes it all in quite matter-of-factly, and then sets to work healing the people who were bitten or stung by the scorpions. She can't cure the paralysis, but she can close wounds like a cleric. Once, twice, five times, a dozen times, four dozen times, until she has healed every person has so much as a scratch. Then she goes on to their animals. She barely talks to anyone, except to announce what she's going to do and then do it.

The woman is a witch. The people of Mut don't know what technically separates a witch from any other kind of suspect magic user, but they know that she's not right, not natural, and most of them are simply glad that she's away, now, under the watchful eyes of the church. But her former in-laws feel very strongly that she isn't fit to raise her late husband's baby, not if she's going to go about making deals with dark powers and flaunting it out in the sunlight where everyone can see. So after Naima has healed a large portion of the Mut encampment, a group of people, led by a man perhaps sixty years old, approaches the inquisitor.

"Greetings, Inquisitor. We're grateful for your presence here. If you have time right now, I'd like to speak to you about Naima," says the man.

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Shawil

The Inquisitor

Urock

Shawil stands alone and watches the woman heal the wounded villagers. He's dressed for the desert, robes and keffiyeh shielding his skin and face not just from the sun, but the people as well. This, along with his stern expression and the solemn aura that surrounds him as a mysterious agent of the Church, keep most from approaching him. But these also work to conceal the confusion and bewilderment he feels at the situation he has found himself in. Things have spiraled beyond his original mission, and he's unsure of how to proceed. He silently prays for guidance.

He watches the woman work, the small, cute child sitting contentedly in the sling on her back. This is not the first time he's observed her powers. As much as it concerns him as a theological matter, from a practical perspective it has already proved tremendously useful. Despite having completed his original mission, he knows it is on him to attempt to address the growing threat to villages on the river, or to at least gather information for those better equipped to do so.

His attention is pulled away as a group of villagers approaches. He stares at them, his expression unchanging as they begin to speak. He knows the effect he has on common people as an Inquisitor, and is wary of saying too much so as to not break the spell. After a moment, he nods silently, indicating that they should continue.

apprenticebard

"It's about the child. Rahim. He's my grandson, my son's son. He's been living with Naima, with the understanding that she would remarry and give the child a home as quickly as possible. But now that she's traveling with you, instead, we think he would be better served living with the rest of his family."

Shawil

The Inquisitor

Urock

Under the face covering, Shawil's mouth curls into a frown, but his eyes stay hard and piercing. Despite never being one for social graces or charm, he's always had a way with his eyes, with an uncanny ability to stare into the souls of those he faces. After a moment, he nods.

"I see," he says after a moment. "I will address this when my business here is concluded." It's clear from his voice that he does not consider this at the level of concern of the scorpion attacks, and he detests the squabbles of the villagers.

"Is that all?" he says, clearly dismissing them unless they have a more pressing concern.

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