All-Flag Rangers: Part XV, To the Moons and Back

Part XIV, In the Desert Hold


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Elsweyr, 4E97


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Dram was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall of the backroom of Ra'shazzad's house. The khajiit passed his hookah to Dram, who recieved it gratefully. He inhaled deeply, considering maybe adopting the khajiiti speech pattern for a few decades. He'd spent the last fortyish years trying to sound like a Colovian hick and felt it might be time for a change again, keep things a little fresh, and he'd already done the whole nord archaic verse style the skalds favored and long before that the cultured speech of imperial nobility. He was bored with all those voices and was growing bored with his current one.

Eh, a couple years more then I'll think about changing it, he thought to himself foggily before tuning back in to what the khajiit was saying.

Ra'shazzad was sharing a story about some time he'd wrestled a massive, four-tusked greased orc tall as a senche to the ground as part of a bet with some nibenese merchant lord, the winner getting to take a crate of moon sugar they'd found on a group of bandits. The bandits had robbed Ra'shazzad's band, the merchant lord's caravan, and apparently also some drug peddlers somewhere along the way. Ra'shazzad told it grandly, and Dram was certain he was exaggerating things in an attempt to outdo Dram's story about being cut in half by a redguard prince, a story Ra'shazzad was the only person to ever take seriously.

The worn red tapestry that served as a door billowed forward, scattering the vapors in the air as Lagerta entered, following closely by Dagot-Ei. They crowded into the small room, Ra'shazzad looked up from his story annoyed at the interruption until he saw who it was. Then he smiled, for he enjoyed the opportunity to share his tale with an expanded audience.

"Come, sit and share in Ra'shazzad's wealth. This, it is flavored with snowberries, an exotic taste from far in the nor-," he cut off, realizing who he was speaking to, "Eh, or it will remind you of home. Come, sit!"

Lagerta grimaced, "We are not here to smoke. Come Dram, we must speak."

"Whaz goin' on?" Dram slurred. He'd been hitting the rum as well, and not a little bit.

A lot.

"We must speak regarding our quest."

Dram nodded at Dagot-Ei, who stood behind Lagerta, "It lizzie's idea to come fetch me, eh? You looove me dontcha Daggertail?" Dram struggled to stand, then fell back down. He sighed, then looked back at the argonian, "Ya want me to callya Daggertail, cause you wan' put a dagger in me back, eh?"

Dagot-Ei blinked angrily at him but he was quickly realizing this wasn't an effective method of communication with these bothersome ape-sacks. Lagerta wasn't as passive. She walked over, grabbed the dark elf by the back of the neck, and dragged his limp, non-struggling body out of the house. Ra'shazzad doubled over in laughter, jeering at the dunmer as they left.

Outside the house Dram was surprised to see several housecats sitting in a row, and was trying to muster up the vocal capability to ask them how they were able to shift themselves out of focus. They all looked the same, and as he watched they seemed to blend into and out of one another. Then they all opened their mouths and mewled in perfect unison, in one voice. It took Dram a minute to realize this was S'basa, the alfiq they'd invited to join the All-Flag Rangers. He blinked his bloodshot eyes (not that anyone could tell, since they were red) until her image resolved into one single cat then thought back to what she'd said.

"The hellsh a clan mother?" he asked.

Lagerta nodded at Dagot-Ei, "He understands the tongue." The nord grabbed Dram by the back of his head and turned it to face her. He sagged like a sack of wheat, held aloft only by her grip.

"You will tell us what the cat says, understand?"

Dram gurgled, which they took as affirmation. Lagerta nodded at the alfiq who turned and walked down the stairs into the hold’s sandy ground level. They followed S’basa, Lagerta half-carrying half-dragging Dram along.

She led them through the dark ground floor. The only lights were in the houses, turning the canyon walls into a map of pulsating lights. Outside the khajiit relied on their nightvision to make their way, but the nord, dark elf, and dunmer pact had no such luck. They stumbled through the sand and then up the cramped stairs and passages, S'basa hissing at them to be quiet as they stomped over people's roofs, till they reached a squat little house on the very highest level. There was a jar hanging from the a stick stuck into the wall within which slept some sort of purple worm whose belly glowed with a bright ethereal light. They could see the walls of the house were carved all around with images of khajiit of all breeds, arrayed in such a way that it seemed to read a history, the history of the tribe perhaps. They didn't wait to ask. The door was open slightly so S'basa nudged it further and entered.

The room was dark, lit only by a couple of sputtering candles on either end of the room. The purple light of the worm spilled through the open door and mixed with the light of the orange flames, and Dram wasn't sure if those were the actual colors or if somewhere along the way he'd fallen into a bad trip. If he would have known all this was gonna go down he'd not have taken that hit of skooma.

S'basa mewled and said something to the darkness. There was a sound like creaking bones, and they waited as the sounds of a khajiit getting up from bed drifted into the room. Even across species the rangers could tell the sounds of an elderly woman, and so they waited patiently until the clan mother found her way to the room. As she came into view they saw she was a patch-furred dagi, about twice the size of S'basa and half the size of Dagot-Ei. Her forearms were longer than the hind, and she crawled along the floor in a manner somewhere between that of a cat and an ape. She reached the small table in the center of the room, settled onto a large pillow with a groan, then gestured toward S'basa who took the seat next to the clan mother, mewling at Dram.

Dram stood in a dazed stupor until Lagerta smacked him.

"Guh, oh ye, she said ta sit down," he said as he more fell than sat onto the nearest available cushion. Dagot-Ei and Lagerta descended on either side, with far more grace.

The dagi hissed something to S'basa, who mewed a replied. The old clan mother turned her rheumy eyes toward the rangers, her jaw working slowly.

"S'basa can understand tamrielic, so that is the language this one will speak in, for only one of you can understand the desert speech, correct?" the rangers nodded. The clan mother adjusted herself, moth-eaten bones protesting. "S'basa tells Mother Dra'jeshazzi that you have come for wisdom."

"Yes," Lagerta said, "we come to ask for counsel. The sages of our own peoples are far from us, and we are unsure of our course."

The dagi reached into a bowl on the table crouched between them, trailing her spiderlike fingers through the powder inside.

"Dra'jeshazzi knows what you will ask," she said, "She knows what you wish to hear. But you will hear me instead."

She lifted the two shivering fingers, covered in the yellowish powder, slowly up to her nostrils smearing it across the bridge of her nose where it caught in her fur and whiskers. She inhaled sharply, her fingers dropping down to her lips where her tongue snaked out to lick them. Her eyes were closed, but Dram was relatively sure right then that her pupils were dilating enough then to match his own. The rangers waited while she got high.

And then the rangers observed.

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Dra'jeshazzi shivered as the moon sugar concoction spread through her respiratory system, the secrets of Azurah riding the winds of Khenarthi that coursed through her body. Her eyes opened, wide like twin moons, and everywhere the clan mother looked she saw the winds in the room, each an individual gust seperate from it's kin unlike the singular mass of air other's felt. She could see the winds, and she whispered without words, her questions leaking out her whiskers twitching on the breezes, and the winds took these questions and sped up to the moons where they spoke in hushed tones to the old cats gathered there, cats who'd known Azurah and caught wind of her deeper secrets, cats who had been clever enough to run away with them beyond the great box to hide in the sands beyond the stars. And the breezes returned to her swollen with secrets, rushing through the window grown like gales that blew the foreigners' hair across their faces, tore the tapestries from the walls and rocked the words from people's mouths before they could open them, swirling around the old dagi clan mother screaming and shouting all that they had learned, secretly tho, shouting like only the wind can shout in the registrars beyond hearing but the cold one, the white woman she heard something though she knew not what she heard something in the wind's buffeting shrieks and in that moment Dra'jeshazzi feared her, so she opened her mouth and swallowed the rushing gales, quieted them before they gave the secret to understanding that the cold pale one might unearth their meanings and take her secrets away, and the sandstone room was still and quiet again and all but the old dagi clan mother and the cold white woman were disturbed and disheveled. Those two shared a knowing look, Dra'jeshazzi that of a cat's curiosity and Lagerta of a woman's suspicion, and nothing was said because they both knew a kinship that day, the kinship of old wise women, that they could never discuss, never explain, and both accepted this without qualm. The moment was past, and S'basa and the men were rousing from their dishevelment.

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"Molag's balls!" Dram yelled when the sudden tornado of winds died down, "Did you sneeze or somethin Lager?"

Lagerta ignored him, white Dagot-Ei leaned forward,

"May I ask what has been learned, Clanmother?"

Dra'jeshazzi rocked on her cushion, blinking away the moons in her eyes. She took a deep breath.

"There is but one counsel this one can give, and that is to tell you a story."

"Oh ah love shtory time," Dram slurred, "but I don't think that'll help much."

"Stories are good," Lagerta said, "Stories tell us what is past and prepare us for what is yet to come. The right story in the right moment can save, or shatter, entire armies."

Dra'jeshazzi nodded at the nord, then lifted her head, and spoke in a voice not wholly her own.

This is what Mother Dra'jeshazzi said,

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There is a place, in a land far, far away, where many cats came together to discuss purpose, which was a new idea because they were cats and cats didn't have a purpose, unless it was to be cats which they were very good at doing and didn't feel they needed to discuss. But they came anyways, and they discussed their purpose, purpose in what they did and for which they had come together, and to discuss the purpose for which they had been gathered, which is different from what was said before. They met in a tree, a tall tree whose roots reached as far down as it's branches stretched up. The first tree of it's kind and the first tree the cats climbed together. And they spoke to one another, and what was said has been lost but what was felt is known. There was hope and despair, love and malignant hate, there was loss and death and new life and promises broken and promises made and most of all curiosities piqued, and a cat's curiosity is a dangerous thing because that is what had made this whole thing start in the first place, but this story isn't about the First Place, not really it's about the New Place so let's get back on track.

One had come, had brought them all together under the leadership of another, and some had issues to tell them apart from one another. And when they danced [which some people thought was fighting] people swore they switched places, and none knew which was himself and which was the other, and they said that in the end it didn't really matter but in the end it really did.

The one who had brought them together worked with another, who planned it and planned it well, but he had decided he didn't really like it all so he was just going to watch them so he sat himself up on a really high branch that wasn't really a branch at all and just watched them with his big cat's eye (which was really big), and everyone just sort of pretended he wasn't there anymore because it was really awkward if he was there, which he wasn't. And the leader, who isn't the one who brought them together but it's okay if you mix them up because everyone does that, the leader came with a guard who has claws like tusks, and he gathered everyone together after the cat's eye left.

Among those summoned was a one who was not all that smart, but really very nice which isn't good for a cat because cat's aren't nice, they are clever and dangerous and cruel sometimes, if you prey, and good if you are friend but these weren't friends or prey, so that one didn't know how to act and it showed. But everyone said he is nice, this little runt, he even says we shouldn't always kill prey but keep them for a while, which they cat's guessed was probably nice.

Also among those summoned was one without outside constraints, free like the wind but inside she was bound by her heart and the heart of another. She came even though she was old and she wept and when she wept so did all others, even those who laughed because when grandmother wept everyone knew something bad had happened even if it were something they had made happen, like murder-revenge.

Another had come who had not been at the last gathering but no one said anything because he fit so well that they could not imagine not having him there. Others said he had been there but had not participated, only sat aside and scratched what everyone did into the scratching post. Now he was a part of everything and they thought, we never did not know him. He was never here before but he has always been here.

There came a clever one who the people thought knew everything, and sometimes they were dissapointed because he didn't know anything, especially things they wanted to know but he was willing to try and learn but that wasn't good enough. So they said this is not good enough and some people decided to ban him from the gathering but others took him in and said look, we have already decided that we know everything, just take these things that we know (which is everything, trust us, meow) and write them down and we will pretend you knew it all along. There is another out there, a slimy cat who is always trying to learn things and we don't like him and we don't want you to be like him because he is curious and curious cats cause problems so stop, okay? And the clever cat said do you mean the cat with the big eye? And they said no the cat's eye cat doesn't exist, but if he did no we would not mean him. We mean the other cat. And he said, do you mean the one with the big eye? And they said yes, we mean the one with the big slimy eye. And he said oh you mean the slimy one. And they said yes, we mean the slimy one. And he said oh.

So he agreed because he was very clever and didn't really have any other choice.

There was another, the Mother, not just any mother and certainly not a mother, no it was the Mother, the definite article and she came along because she saw a chance to be a mother in a way she had never been before and that was something she desired because even though she was the Mother, she'd never known what it meant to be a mother.

And of course there was the maiden cat because everyone wanted her to be there, but she was young then and freer and in other times peope would say yes, invite her she is nice and proper and quite the ladycat but she wasn't and they all knew it if they really thought about it, or spoke with her and actually listened instead of admiring how pretty she was, because she was young and there was hot blood in her and she knew there was hot blood in others and she wanted to mix those bloods, in every way that you could, and this scared some people but they were interested even when they tried to say they weren't. So she came, and after that she went to the gathering and the cats were happy to see her.

So all the cats were gathered, and that was when they realized it was all a lie, and people killed and people died, and some people didn't really die at all, and everyone departed but they never really left in the way that you never really leave a place that hurts you in ways you can't talk about because that's how much it hurts, so they stayed even though they left and it shows because when you talk to them they don't always answer and you think it's almost like they're somewhere else, and that's because they are, and the gathering went on and repeated over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over...

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and that is what Mother Dra'jeshazzi said, and continued to say, until Lagerta interrupted her,

"It was been several minutes. How long are you going to say 'and over' for?"

"Until it is over," the clan mother said in a tired voice, "which is never, really."

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“So that’s it?” Dram said incredulously when Dra'jeshazzi stayed quiet, “That’s a pretty shit ending for a pretty weird story, and I'm a dark elf so I know something about weird stories."

"The story is not ended," the old dagi sighed, "It has never ended, though it has been retold many times and changes with each telling, never has anyone yet to end it."

"That is the nord way of telling stories," Lagerta said "It is a nord story then.”

Dra’jeshazzi shook her head, “No, it is an all-story.”

"Forgive me," Dagot-Ei interrupted, "but a tale with such an open audience cannot be very useful to our specific group, no?”

"It can, and it is. It is your story, specifically, and all our stories, generally. It is an All-Flags Story.”

"Wow," said Dram, "I don’t think I ever heard someone say so many grand shweeping statements while shimultaneously failing to impart any useful information."

"That is because you know nothing."

"Thazz another sweeping statement! And it sure don't tell me nothing."

"Some will understand, in the end, the meaning of this all," Dra'jeshazzi said in a patient tone, "you are not one. As is often the case the men here will not come to see what the women here will see, and understand. Nevertheless, you are one group, one people, one tribe. Go forth together and conquer the horde-beast in the west for the ooze-born, join with your last friend and go forth to your final gathering. This one shall hope for your successes, and mourn for your losses."

Everyone knew when they'd been dismissed and didn't need to wait for S'basa's hiss to get out. They quickly shuffled out the room.

It seemed everyone else had taken something from the meeting – even Dagot-Ei was deep in thought. Dram sighed as they dragged him out. He thought he might have understood some of what was happening, instead of imagining tornados, if he just hadn't taken those shrooms earlier.


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Part XVI, Ave Alessia