Karik stepped off of the ship, it was early morning and the nobles had just arrived at Shinkil. A large hill sat next to the port. That was the Shinkilli mountain, Azhytali. On the Ashantali Peninsula, where Shikil was located at the tip was, tsunamis covered the shores. The hill was just taller than most tsunamis, so it could sustain. Of course, Shinkil had expanded to the nearby mountain peaks, but the heart of the city would always be from the central peak. Karik walked up the spiral staircase, which went around the hill. The other nobles were in front of him as they walked up the stairs. While walking, Karik passed the ship bay.
People store their ships inside of it. Right before a tsunami comes, the stone door will shut, and the ships will be safe. Karik continued walking up the stairs, looking behind his shoulder. The crew that had brought Karik and many other nobles on their ship were climbing up the stairs behind him.Ship crews did not carry their boats up the stairs of Shinkil. No one deserved that. Instead, a small passage had been built within the mountain itself. The ships would be hauled up with chain pulleys, design courtesy of House Kanfut, and slaves would bring the ships from the pulleys into the bay. When the ships needed to come back down, they would slide onto the ocean via a large stone slide.
Karik noticed one of the noblemen were slowing down, falling back to Karik. It was Akior Sien. "Ahoy, Karik!" He said, "So you're the grandson of an emperor? That's neat." Akior said. "I am not the grandson of an emperor, I am the grandson of an heir," Karik said, "He was probably killed by those savages from the Western Grasslands." Akior looked confused, before a look of realization, "Oh!" He said, "You're talking about the guys who got into the Central Valley," he said. "Also, Akior, don't say it out loud," Karik said, "We don't want the other noblemen to point their gossip-vision at us."
Karik and Akior continued to walk up the stairs. By midday, the party of nobles had reached the top of Azhytali. Shinkil was a beautiful city, like nothing Karik had ever seen. The city was overgrown, half-domed buildings stood tall among the rest, and walls surrounded the whole thing. There was no gate at the entrance to the city, just a short, arched, passageway running through the wall on that side. The city was full of plant life, overgrown compared to Khuykir. Karik had a hard time taking in all of the greenery. It was not all green, strange Zhrulean plants dotted the sea of green. Vines crawled up building, with more potted plants hanging off of them. Some people were climbing their vines, getting up to the rooftops, and watering their plants.
Karik walked through the grassy street. It was clearly made of stone, however, grass had grown over it. The whole street was green with patches of grey. Karik noted the people walking barefoot among the grass. Karik did not do the same. He had done research on the Shinkilli, they saw it disrespectful and forbade foreigners from touching their 'unclean feet' on the perfectly curated grass. They claimed that the unwashed feet would kill the grass. Foreigners were allowed to walk barefoot on the streets if they got a washing from one of the shamans. Karik would get one of these cleanings after he arrived at the inn the noblemen were sleeping at.
Karik didn't know the address to this inn, he simply followed the other nobles. The noblemen and women in their colorful clothing disrespected the people by taking off their shoes. The passersby looked on in disgust. Like their city, the Shinkilli wore the colors of whatever plants they owned. Most of them had traditional green plants and thus wore green. One could easily spot who wore a different color.
Shinkil was governed by the Seventeen Colorfuls. They were a group of people that owned a plant, not of the color green. Most of these people came from clans, similar to houses. These clans were a lot more simplistic than Salkin Houses. They had three aspects to them, their color, their family, and their name. Each of the --about-- 17 clans represented a color. The Salkin recognized 8 base colors, 3 true colors, 3 complementary colors, and 2 neutral colors. Meanwhile, the Shinkilli recognized 18. Clans were families. Bloodlines that had been going for a thousand years. Of course, the names of clans were not used, they were just for disambiguation; introduced by scholars for ease of historic texts. Actually calling someone from orange clan a Mashantalykai'i, their family name, could get you hung by your hands before a tsunami.
Karik finally arrived at the inn. It was one of those domed buildings. All sorts of nobles went up the primitive stairs and into the rooms. Those from House Yastid, House Kanfut, House Sien, and House Kassald. This feast would be one remembered by all, especially those of House Jakliai and Kanfut. Karik still had a day before the feast. He would get his feet cleaned, and then visit the market today. Tomorrow was the feast. Khuykir may have had a famous market, but that one took in vendors from all over the world; all except the Shinkilli. The Shinkilli merchants stayed within their own city, selling their products. Shinkil was the best place to get Zhrulean plants.
The religion of Shinkil, the Grass Occult, required every man and woman to grow a plant from a certain age, around fifteen. This was their life plant, it would be named and cared for the person's whole life. They would even force sickness upon themselves whenever they saw their life plant wilting. Upon the life plants death, the person would die to. Needless to say, not many practiced Grass Occultism. Karik had unpacked his things and pulled out his coin purse. The Shinkilli had adopted Salkin currency, one of the few things they had in common with westerners. Karik walked out of the inn, and to the Shamans' Sanctum. Where the shamans cleaned the feet of those who needed it.
Karik walked into the Sanctum. It was a half-domed building, supported by a few straight walls. Only where one could barely stand tall were there straight walls. Karik was in a small waiting room, awaiting the cleaning. The room itself was about the size of a tower waiting room. It even had chairs leaning against the wall, and a desk with a clerk. "Karik?" The clerk asked, "Here." Karik said. "Come this way," the clerk said. Karik followed as the clerk led him to a small room. Inside, was a man in a complex robe. The robe itself had layers of material, with feathers, furs, and cloth. The floor was grass, likely for after the process. The shaman gestured for Karik to lay on the reclined chair. Doing so, Karik watched as the clerk flipped a switch next to the door. A skylight slowly opened up, being the only light in the room. The clerk closed the door and left the room.
The shaman gave Karik water in a glass cup. He had heard of this, it was called Grazdun. The drug could be put in a glass of water, and the user would have hallucinations while under the influence. It also lasted just long enough for the process to be complete. Karik took a drink. Soon after, he was asleep. Then, the hallucinations started.
Karik looked around, the hallucination was lifelike. He looked at his hands, and then the backs. They did not look like his. Karik reached in his pocket for the book. Nothing, he didn't even have pockets. He was in Mishn. The whole city was clearly wartorn. Buildings were burning, carts had been overturned, and plumes of smoke filled the air. He looked to his left and right, mercenaries. A spear appeared in his hands.
The mercenary captain, Talib, was marching in front of them. "Alright you sorry lot!" Talib said, "I want you in Rushing formation against the Jakliai. It should be easy; their leaders are dead." Talib stated. Sunteng Jakliai was dead? More importantly, their plan had worked!, "Although I wouldn't be surprised if you lot fail even this easy task." Talib said, "Now, get into formation!" Karik and the others formed up into eight-men segments. Each segment was an array of four by two. The front row held tower shields, and shortswords. The back row were people with shorter spears than Karik had ever seen. Like the name suggested, the formation would probably be best for rushing the enemy.
Karik was in the back row. He did like the others, putting his spear between the front-row shields. They marched around the city until they reached a large battlefield. In the distance, a much bigger army stood still. They held purple banners that bore the yellow dagger. The last of the Jakliai threat. Karik and the other mercenaries marched until they were a short distance away. The Jakliai were at an advantageous position, holding the high ground of a small hill. Karik and the rest of them would have to charge up the high ground. This was strange. Karik figured that the Jakliai would have House Kanfut's support. Where were the other armies? After an hour of staring at each other, Talib spoke,
"On my signal!" He declared. After another five minutes of waiting, Talib finally gave the signal. "NOW!" He yelled. The whole army rushed the enemy, reaching the hill in a few minutes. The segments were effective in attempting to break up the Jakliai force. Karik was not on the front lines, but in the third line. Karik was apart of the fighting but was not likely to be killed. The mercenaries in the back started to go around, to the back of the Jakliai force.
It was just then that Karik looked behind himself. Karik was in the second-to-last line of men. He then noticed something else. Another army, carrying a dozen banners. Each one bore seven blue stars on a yellow background. It was the Valazim banner. They were using a similar formation to the mercenaries, also charging up the hill, and attacking the backline. Karik was now on the second line.
The Valazim tore through their front line. Karik only killed three men before a Valazim spear made its way through his gut. "Do not trust the Valazim." A booming voice said. It sounded like himself, yet much louder. Karik was levitating into the air; he had no control of his movement. "Could I just ask who to trust?" Karik asked, "Do not trust the Valazim" The booming voice said.
Karik awoke. The shaman stood over him, likely waiting for Karik to wake up. "The process is complete, you are now permitted to walk on the sacred grass." Karik got off of the chair, standing on the grassy floor. It felt amazing. The sensation could only be described as euphoric. Karik then put on his boots. His feet ached after putting them on. Karik walked out of the building. He would lose the boots at the inn and walk through the market barefoot. When he finally arrived at the inn, Karik took off the boots in his room, and immediately walked out of the building. The grass pathway had a lesser sensation than the shaman's grass but still felt similar. Off to the market.
Karik wandered around the market. It was different from the one in Khuykir. Instead of stalls, vendors set up cloths on the streets and placed their wares on those. The vendors who sold food had lanterns with open tops placed underneath racks with their food. This heated the food and allowed passersby to see what food was being sold. Karik continued to walk through the streets. Everywhere in the city was valid space to sell. Karik hadn't noticed them before while he walking through the streets. However, he noticed the vendors a lot more now that he was looking for them. Karik continued walking until a vendor caught his attention.
The man sat on a white and red checkered pattern. He had only one item laid out on his cloth, a daggerspear. The weapon itself had a short wooden shaft and a steel spearhead. One side of the spearhead had a knife-edge. A small engraving was written in Shinkilli on the shaft. Karik didn't understand it but could get someone to translate it. Karik walked up to the merchant, to study the spear further. The spear was about three feet long with the engraving taking up about half of the spear. Shinkilli was usually written on leaves and thus was filled with curves and roundness. The script actually loops on itself; at the very end of a line, it will loop on itself with one straight line, the only one Karik has seen used in the whole language. Along this line, there are curved markings, representing something. Karik was curious about the language. He knew Salkin, he knew Giá and he knew Garfroen. He would likely work with the Shinkilli more, so learning their language would be a good idea.
The man looked up at Karik, "Are you buying?" He asked in a thick Giázhuan accent. "What is the phrase on this spear?" Karik asked, "I do not know what it means, it is written in Shinkilli, and I found it lying on a battlefield near Tasai." The merchant slurred some of his words, Salkin clearly wasn't his first language. Karik pulled out his coin purse. "What is the price for it?" He asked, "Two-dozen Salms." The merchant said. He pronounced Salms as Sams. The price was not much for Karik, he had about five-dozen in his coin purse. Karik pulled the coins out of his purse and gave them to the merchant, who then handed the spear to him. "Thank you," Karik said in Giá. It was said as, "Zhultanasi Tynsy."
Karik walked away and down a street to the left. Another street market. More people were set up on their own cloths. Various patterns could be found among these things. Some of them were checkered, some of them were flower patterns, some of them were sequenced diamonds and triangles. Another thing caught his eye. Karik looked at a woman sitting on one of those flower cloths. She had several vials laid out in front of her. They were each filled with a small amount of liquid. Karik walked up to the vendor.
"What are these?" He asked, "Flasoif Hasobo As Fu Bos Shintu Sofhasio," She spoke in Giá, which Karik understood. She had said, "These are poisons of the finest quality." Karik recalled his knowledge of the Giá language. "Each one is deadly or paralyzing," she said. The woman pointed at each one saying what they did. She pointed to a green liquid, "Paralyzes you from the waist down for a couple hours," she pointed to another one of a purple color, "Kills you in a matter of minutes after ingesting." She pointed at each of the rest, saying, "Kills, paralyzes, kills, kills, causes nausea, kills." She said. "What's that one?" Karik said in Giá while pointing at a clear vial. She probably understood Salkin but clearly couldn't speak it.
"That one is an odorless, flavorless, poison that will paralyze the victim." The merchant said. "How much does it cost?" Karik asked, "Twenty Salms." She said, "I'll take one vial." Karik said, handing over the money and in turn getting the poison. Karik could use this. He would coat the daggerspear's blade in the poison and use it on Sunteng Jakliai. Just coat the spear side with the poison and get it on Sunteng, then slit the throats of his family while he watched and died.
Karik made sure to remember that for later.
Karik headed off from the cloth. He didn't just want killing devices. He wanted some Shinkilli street food. He had heard of something called a 'grass wrap'. Karik wandered around until he found a street with many people selling food. This clearly was some kind of designated street. Perhaps they were all like that.
Karik looked around until he found something that didn't contain raw grass and leaves. He eventually saw something that grabbed his attention. A thick, square, piece of bread with a green sauce. On top of that sauce was a blend of melted white cheeses. Lastly, there were various pieces of --somehow-- cooked grass and thin slices of what appeared to be both chicken and lamb. Karik walked up to the man who was from the Shámnám mountains. He was cooking these things with skewers through the middle and rotating them above a contained fire.
Karik walked up to the man. "What do you call these?" Karik asked, "I call them Pi'alizhai." He said, "They are bread, grass sauce, and a five white cheese melt, topped with cooked spinach, sliced bird, and lamb. I then cut them into square slices." Karik was a little startled by the amount of information he got, but was nonetheless curious, "How much for one of them?" Karik asked, "Thirteen Kuys." The man said. Karik looked inside of his coin purse. He only brought five kuys, the rest of his coins were Salms. Rich people problems. Karik grabbed a Salm out of his coin purse, "Do you give change?" He asked, "Yes." The man said. "Then I will have one of these Pizalions," Karik said. He handed the man a Salm who, in turn, handed Karik two Kuys and a square of the food.
Karik bit into the slice as he walked away. It was a bunch of flavors melted into one. A savory flavor from the meat was mixed with the cheeses and this 'spinach' thing. Karik ate two more bites, and the thing was gone. He found that he could not resist gobbling up foreign food. Karik walked away, looking at the sun's position. It was about an hour before dusk. Tomorrow, he would eat at the feast. Today, he would rest. Karik walked back to the inn and up into his chamber shortly after. He placed the spear on the floor, along with the poison. He would have to coat the spear with poison in the morning. Karik then fell asleep on the bed.
Karik walked along the bridge. The feast hall was on one of those side mountains, not in Shinkil proper. Karik had to walk across this bridge, take the second left and walk into the third building on the right. Karik followed those directions while paying attention to the scenery. The bridge was fairly wide and made of stone with grass coming out of the rock. Last night, a tsunami had come, and the city had been safe. Karik hadn't even awoken when the alarm had gone off. In the morning, he had remembered to coat his daggerspear in the poison. During the tsunami, the mountains were drenched in water. This left a pattern on the mountain when the tsunami finished.
Apparently, in the Grass Occult, they use these patterns as omens for the time until the next tsunami. Karik looked at the various shamans on the bridge talking amongst themselves in Shinkil. Karik attempted to listen in, but they were speaking in Shinkilli. He really needed to learn that language. To Karik, the pattern looked like a dagger. "A sign of things to come." Karik thought.
Karik was on the side mountain now, called Ashypali according to a street sign. It was much less dense than Shinkil Proper, with homes and businesses having alleyways double the size in Khuykir. Karik continued walking past the first intersection. The roads here were also the grass path mixed with stone. Of course, Karik had worn boots to this event. He would've been seen as savage by the other nobles if he were barefoot.
He reached the second intersection, slightly more crowded than the first. Karik turned left and looked for the feast hall on the right. Karik located the building and walked towards it, passing by two other buildings on the right side. Guests had not arrived yet, but they were likely just behind him.
Karik walked into the feast hall, where Zakra was sitting at the opposite end on a concise throne. As was tradition, Salkin feasting halls had the host sitting on some kind of throne at one end of the hall. The throne itself was made with a yellow-stained wood inlaid with seven blue stars. Because they didn't own this feast hall, merely renting it out, Zakra had brought the throne from her personal feast hall in Imtashnu.
"You've set up quite nicely in here." Karik said as he approached Zakra. "I had to rush some of the decorations, but it came together farely well." Zakra walked closer to him, "When the pen is picked up, the execution shall start," she whispered. "Sit next to the Jakliai, and brutalize them if you wish, I want the Kanfuts." she said, "Just remember to wait for the sound of shots fired before you do though. " Zakra then stepped back, and Karik nodded, understanding what it meant.
Guests started arriving just then, and Zakra sent Ilkai to greet them. Karik went through a side door and exited the building before anyone saw him. No one could know of their plot. He hadn't even told Akior of everything. Karik walked through the alley way and on to the end of the stream of noblemen. He continued walking until every noble had entered, with Karik being the last.
Now that the hall was packed, it seemed much different than mere minutes ago when it was empty. Karik looked around for the Jakliai family. You usually sat with others of your house, or, in Karik's case --with all of his closest relatives dead, no wife, and no children-- close allies of your house. This time, Karik sat with the Jakliai, attempting to act like he wanted to talk about an alliance.
They sat a circular table close to the hall's throne. This way, Sunteng could simply walk up the steps, sign the treaty, and continue with the feast. For the two hours, things typical for a feast happened. The cooks served five courses of food, and musicians played the jovial songs that all noblemen knew. Karik did not drink, as he needed his senses to be keen for this.
Karik was eating a crab leg when a small piece of paper materialized in his lap. It simply read, "Almost." The paper faded out of existence seconds after he read it. Karik resumed eating, but prepared himself.
Zakra stood up, "If I could have your attention!" She anounced, "It is time to sign this alliance, and set our pact in stone!" Sunteng walked up to the throne pedastal, while two Kalmgy servants brought in a massive piece of paper with a lign at the bottom for them to sign their names. The paper was a novelty, and just for show, as the real pact would've been signed in private if Zakra had planned to actually ally herself with House Jakliai.
A third Kalmgy brought in a jar of ink and a quill for each of them, and set the items on stools that she also had brought in. Sunteng and Zakra picked up the pen, with Sunteng beginning to sign his name.
Gunshots rang in the air, as bullets were fired at all five of the Jakliai family, and supposedly all three of the Kanfut family. Most of the other nobles ran, flooding out of the building and into the streets screaming. Why people kept coming to these feasts while assassinations were becoming increasingly common was surprising. The week before, the Yastid family had lost their governor to an assassin at a smaller feast. Karik drew his dagger spear and stabbed Sunteng with it. His legs went limp and he fell to the floor, watching for what Karik did next.
Karik then killed each of the Jakliai in their own unique way. He would grab one, kill them, and grab the next one. First was Sunteng's daughter Jama, a brown-haired girl with the Zhrulean tan skin and blue eyes, her throat slit with the dagger side of the spear. Then his son Juzhu, a tan-skinned boy with green eyes and dark brown hair, was stabbed in the heart. Next, was his son and heir Zhaijy. He was a boy with lighter skin than the other two but still with the green eyes and brown hair, the spear had been stabbed through his eye and out the other side. He had fought back, but with little training. Lastly was Sunteng's wife, Tysan. She had that darker brown hair and the green eyes of her children. She also had the light-tan skin of the Giá. Karik stabbed her in the gut, and took out his dagger from its sheath, stabbing it down into her head. Sunteng had screamed after each one like he was about to die.
He was.
Karik took his dagger and raised it into the air, aiming at Sunteng's gut. Before he did, Karik asked, "What are your final words?" Sunteng looked briefly relieved, but still in shock. "I hope you die in this very, and spend your afterlife in hell." Sunteng said. It was unnerving how calmly he said it, as if he were ready to move on. Continuing what he started, Karik copied some of what he did for each of Sunteng's family members. He stabbed his dagger into Sunteng's gut and jabbed both of his eyes out. Finally, Karik took the dagger and plunged it into his head.
Now that he was done with the Jakliai, Karik looked over at Zakra. She had killed the three Kanfuts, Rupred, his wife Jumali, and their son Ruik. By this point, only the bodies, Karik, and Zakra were in the room. The servants had ran away along with Ilkai.
