Grasp of the Emerald Claw Epilogue (Naomi)

From Toosigma

Title	Grasp of the Emerald Claw - Epilogue
Author	Philip Mann - Naomi
Campaign	Convergent Threads
Session	Intersession
Posted
Game Date

The riverboat captain did not seem too concerned that I was the only one of all those that disembarked a few hours ago. Given my battered condition, I can imagine what he thought, but he just grunted an acknowledgement as he shoved away from the shore.

We were some distance away when the man spoke to me. “It is good that we leave now,” he began as if speaking to himself as much as me. “The sky is clear and tonight, we have a full moon to light our way far down the river.” He paused as if waiting to hear me say something. When it didn’t come, he continued, “Because, sweetheart, if it got too dark we would have to put into shore in just a couple of hours.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said without looking at him.

“Pardon?” He inquired.

“Sweetheart, sweetie, or anything like it. Don’t call me that.”

“Well then, what should I call you?” he asked with a slight chuckle, as if that is what he called all women and couldn’t understand why I would object.

“Naomi,” I replied. “My name is Naomi.” I still refused to look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me, studying me.

“Very well,” his tone softened considerably, “I am Giuseppe. I did not mean to offend.”

I said nothing and we continued in silence for a long while. I heard the gentle sounds of the water and the wild sounds as we drifted. The jungle was so peaceful when we leave ourselves out of it and just allow everything to happen around us. The creatures of the daylight are all retiring to their nests and refuges as those of the night begin to stir. Nature does not bend to the will of men; it is now as it always shall be.

I know that the dark-skinned elves are out there, watching us travel down the river. They could attack, but I do not believe they will. They seem honorable, only wanting us to leave their world alone. In a way I envy them, or what I imagine about them; free from a world run by nobles and dragonmarked houses. They fight only to survive and to keep their world free from interlopers…like me.

As the last light faded through the trees, I began to tend my wounds with my art. Kneeling at the bow of the craft, I tried to remember what the infliction each wound felt like. Every blow to my flesh spoke to me as it was healed…”turn faster”…”bring your guard up”…”don’t overreach!”

The last wounds caused by the apes made anger rise within me. Not because I fought poorly, and not because I made mistakes, but because Hero dodged behind me when the fight became difficult. It seemed so characteristic of him and I should have seen it coming. When he believed that he could fight on his own terms, he dodged and flanked and attacked them from behind when they were almost no threat to him. But, as soon as they began to engage him, he hid behind me.

The more I thought about his actions, the more I could feel anger and hatred growing within me. He had placed his own life above mine, something so repugnant to me that I cannot even imagine how he could do it. I could see that it was not within him to value anyone but himself. I now knew that I could expect no better of him as I felt the anger knot in my stomach, and it made me wretch.

“Are you going to be okay?” Giuseppe asked.

“Fine,” I said as I washed my face off with water from the river, “I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” he said softly, “The moon is going to leave us within the hour so I’ll be putting into shore to rest. I’d hate to have you getting sick in camp. Who knows what it would attract.”

“Have no worries about me, Giuseppe…”

“It’s not your skin I’m worried about, Naomi, it’s mine!” he said with a hearty chuckle as the bow nudged the shore.

I slid into the water and pushed the bow onto the ground where Giuseppe secured it for the evening. He cautioned against lighting a fire or cooking, but I wasn’t really in a mood to eat to begin with. We made quiet small talk while he ate and prepared his sleeping arrangements. The conversation didn’t even pause as he walked to the edge of the trees and relieved himself with his back to me. He told me that my best choice, should I need to do the same, would be to wrap a blanket around me for modesty, but stay where he could see me. He cautioned that what happens to people who do not respect the continent is why people stay away.

“They are out there, aren’t they?” I asked, “The dark-skinned elves.”

“They are called ‘Drow’, and yes, they are probably watching us right now.”

I looked around a bit but saw nothing.

“You’ll never see them unless they want you to,” he said. “You see, Naomi, this is their home and they are the masters here. Unless they change their mind during the night, they will tolerate us so long as we remain near the boat and leave at dawn.”

“That sounds pretty harsh.”

“Xen’drik is harsh, Naomi, and it takes a harsh society to claim it as their domain.”

A few moments went by and nothing else was said. I was looking into the jungle, trying to catch a glimpse of the Drow. Giuseppe was watching me again. He seemed to have something on his mind, but was trying to figure it out without asking any questions. He shook his head to dismiss whatever he was thinking and drifted off to sleep. I just leaned against a tree and listened to the jungle…

An hour before dawn, I gathered my things. The night of quiet interspersed with wild noises gave me time to straighten my mood from the day before. I no longer felt the utter contempt that I had for Hero, and the tiniest glimmer of hope had returned that he may save himself before his time is up. Fate has put us together for a reason, and saving him must be part of it somehow.

When I had put my things on the boat, I leaned over Giuseppe to wake him up. As he opened his eyes he said, “Good morning…I could certainly get used to waking up to you, sw…” He stopped himself in the middle of ‘sweetie’ or ‘sweetheart’ or something similar, so I just smiled and walked to the shore so I could see the sun come up.

We were underway again before the sun fully cleared the horizon. Giuseppe told me that the boat was light so we could likely make it back to Stormreach just after nightfall if nothing went wrong. The river was broad and the current swift, but the channel was clear enough so long as the boat remained away from the shore.

I reassured him that we would be fine as I sat on the bow and held my double scimitar across my lap to study while I wiped the grime of my travels from it. The elegance and beauty of this huge weapon has always amazed me. It seems that it should be awkward, but it becomes an extension of my own body when I wield it. Had Thea found it with me there would be little doubt that it had been made for my hands. However it happened, I am grateful to have such a magnificent treasure to use in battle.

I stood with my weapon, preparing myself to practice on the open deck of the boat. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to feel the movement of the boat on the water, and I let that rhythm take me on a graceful dance across the bow. My magnificent weapon became my partner and we danced through a hundred phantoms that tried to cut in. Slashing and spinning I moved, leaping high into the air with a gentle backward twist that brought my partner to bear directly beneath me. We landed together and I rolled beneath another imaginary foe, stopping in a split as I brought one blade up and through the shadow. I allowed the weight of the weapon to carry me backward and, planting one point firmly on the deck, threw my weight over the top of it, landing squarely on the gunwale before leaping into a spinning, twisting strike at the last phantom amidships.

I opened my eyes and returned my weapon to its holding place, greeted by a stunned boat captain.

“You are some piece of work, Naomi.” he said. “With grace and agility like that, you could perform with the best dancing troupes in Khorvaire, but still you choose to risk your neck out here. Why?”

“Because I dance for me alone,” I replied as I moved toward the stern, “and because adventuring calls me.”

“You could have your excitement and still be safe about it, you know. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m sure some noble in Sharn or somewhere would give anything you wanted so you would stay home and keep him happy.”

I considered what he said for a moment, but putting Thea in place of some anonymous noble. “You could be right, Giuseppe, but no one who loved me would ask me to give up this life if it is what I want to do.”

“Love?” he asked. “I didn’t say anything about love.”

“What could you mean then?” I asked, sitting on a crate across from him.

“Look,” he began, “I’ve learned in my years that love gets you exactly two things: hurt and lonely.”

“How could you say such a thing?” I demanded.

He took a breath before speaking again. “Love is what brought me to this glorious paradise that you and I are in. See, I may look like a nice guy, but I’m a ruthless killer; or that’s how the authorities saw it.”

“I don’t understand…”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t because you seem the honest sort that never does anything wrong.” He turned his gaze to me, “Believe it or not, you are looking at a man who is wanted for killing two people. Not some random persons, not anyone in a bar brawl, but my own wife.”

Seeing the shocked look on my face, he explained how it happened so many years ago. He grew up in a small town and married his childhood sweetheart. The war had displaced their family, so he and his new bride moved to Trolanport in search of a better life. Within a few months they were established and he began to look forward to raising a family. His wife, on the other hand, was getting caught-up in the nightlife of the great city and its many vices. Alcohol and dancing he could deal with, he didn’t like it, but he could allow her that much. Where it all came apart, however, was when he caught her with another man at a tavern she frequented.

Yes, he was a murderer because fifteen years ago, Giuseppe killed his young wife and her lover in the heat of passion. Fifteen years ago, he fled from the law in Trolanport, taking whatever passage he could out of the city with only the clothing on his back, and ultimately exiled himself to the Lost Continent of Xen’drik. For fifteen years, Giuseppe has been living in a prison of his own choosing and of his own grief.

“…I suppose there is still a reward out for my capture if you would choose to turn me in,” he quipped.

“No,” I said, “I can tell that you are not an evil man, and your voice tells me that you regret what you did every day.”

“I sound that pathetic, huh?” he asked with an ironic snicker.

“Not pathetic at all,” I replied. “Rather, you sound as someone who has learned to live with a horrible decision. Someone that I would like to consider a friend once told me ‘there will always be regrets…the purpose of living is learning to live with those regrets.’ We all live the best way we can.”

Giuseppe was quiet for a moment, as if considering what I had said. “So, you would forgive me then?”

“It is not mine to forgive you, Giuseppe, you are the only one that can do that after all of these years.”

Again he fell silent, and I got up to resume my seat near the bow.

“Naomi,” he said, “thank you.”

I smiled at him but said nothing.

We talked off and on for the remainder of the day. He told me that I was the only person in all of these years that he had dumped his heart out to; he also told me that he felt freed. I shared a little as well, and he reassured me that I had done the right thing to tell Kayli. He wasn’t sure how I could possibly love two different people so completely, but he hoped that it all worked out for me and both of my loves.

It was a couple of hours past sunset when we pulled up to the dock where our journey began. I helped him tie off and we said our goodbyes before I left to the launch that would take me back to the Sea Dart.

Unlike Giuseppe, the captain of the submersible ship was surprised that I returned alone. I explained that we parted ways in the jungle and that Hero and Maerin would be finding their own way back aboard an airship. The captain didn’t seem to approve of our parting, but he was glad that I came back in one piece.

We got underway with the tide and made good time back to Sharn. The crew seemed a bit uncomfortable with a lone female onboard, but everyone was generally polite in that they said as little as possible when I was in the space with them. I suppose that was to be expected under the circumstances, but it would have been nice to have been treated like a person rather than a disease.

Once I returned home to the Eyrie, life resumed as it had each time before…