Difference between revisions of "Xanthippe (Chapter 35)"

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#REDIRECT [[Xanthippe (Act V)#Chapter 35]]
The Keep of the Worldstone was a magnificent place.  The walls and floors were all huge tiles of stone, masterfully fitted like a giant's jigsaw puzzle.  The solidity and grandeur of it suited Barbarians perfectly, though there wasn't much evidence that the living ones knew anything about stonework.  Even the buildings of Harrogath looked old.  If a lot of their knowledge of craftwork had been lost while they studied the arts of combat, maybe these ancient works had impressed them as the works of giants... or gods.  Xanthippe was distrustful of tales of godlike ancestors, or anything people did to justify feeling superior to others.  A lot of noble houses in "civilized" lands claimed great heroes or divine beings as ancestors; it was bullsh!t there, and bullsh!t up here.
 
 
 
Of course, the keep was full of Baal's creatures: Succubi and Imps, Minotaurs and exploding slaves.  Xanthippe and Kasim simply ran past some of them, particularly the Imps, who were too time-consuming to bother chasing.  These Succubi had golden skin and rainbow-colored wings, and were actually very pretty if you ignored the talons, teeth, and bloodlust.  Maybe Baal had kept his favorite ones closest to himself.  While going through a particularly large flock of them, Kasim asked, "Say, what were you doing in that house earlier?"
 
 
 
"It was a women's meeting," Xanthippe replied.
 
 
 
"Kind of figured," Kasim said, chopping a Succubus in two through the waist.  "Wondered when you'd get back to liberating women."
 
 
 
Xanthippe laughed. "Not going to happen.  It was stupid of me to think I could.  You know, meeting these women, I think I understand why the Zann Esu took off into the jungle.  They weren't just fleeing men, it was everything.  Some of the old stories of those days mentioned women participating in their own subjugation."
 
 
 
"How did they figure that?"
 
 
 
"They didn't want to change the world.  At the meeting, all the older women went on about being improper, shameful, not traditional.  Shame is one way a society controls its youth.  I'll bet in the old days, when the Zann Esu were all young rebels, the old women told them what they were doing was shameful."
 
 
 
Kasim laughed. "That why you never act ashamed?"
 
 
 
"A long time ago, I told myself never to be ashamed of anything I do.  Once the Zann Esu established themselves, and got old, they started shaming their young recruits into behaving 'properly'.  I do not like being manipulated."  As the last Succubus died, Xanthippe paused to reflect for a moment. "Maybe I have been too harsh on the Zann Esu.  They have done a lot of good, for women, and for me.  It was hard to do what they did.  I guess they're just rebels who succeeded.  Some rebels, when they get to be in charge, make a system that's worse than the one they replaced.  But seeing what they might have been rebelling against, I don't think they were that bad."
 
 
 
Kasim had moved on ahead, and found a group of Minotaurs, led by a fierce general.  "What about the young ones?  And how about a little help here?"
 
 
 
Xanthippe ran in and fired off a few quick Static Fields from the middle of the Minotaur horde.
 
 
 
"They might change... I don't know.  I'm not sure if I'm such a good role model for them.  Anya sure seemed to admire me, but I don't know if that's a good thing."
 
 
 
That surprised Kasim some; the boss had never seemed the kind for self-doubt.  "Man, those Succubuses got to you more than I thought."
 
 
 
"It's Succubi."  She chopped a Minotaur off at the knees.  "And, yeah.  I don't know what they saw in me, but they saw something.  Some vanity, or jealousy, or just being a vindictive little witch."  While they laid into the Minotaur general, Xanthippe laughed a bit.  "Found out I'm not as strong as I thought I was the hard way."
 
 
 
Killing the Minotaur, Kasim nodded.  "Could have been worse."
 
 
 
"Yeah, I could have gotten the boob job.  I wonder if Succubi really can do that?"
 
 
 
"Maybe they just make you think you look better."
 
 
 
"Illusions, yeah.  Disguises.  Nothing real.  You know, I'll bet the way they look while they're alive isn't real either."
 
 
 
Kasim nodded. "Probably not.  They sure don't look that good after they're dead."
 
 
 
On a return trip to restock in Harrogath, Cain asked Kasim to go to Malah's and buy some antidote potions.  Baal's preferred body shape was an enormous spider, and this might mean he had a poisonous attack.  When Xanthippe tried to go with him, Cain caught her and quietly asked, "May I ask you something, alone?"
 
 
 
"Huh?  What?"
 
 
 
"This is none of my affair, and I know you have little time, but rumors have been circulating, as they always do.  There has been some wondering if you have... feelings for Kasim?"
 
 
 
"WHAT?  No.  That must be about yelling at him over Anya."
 
 
 
Cain smiled. "I suspected as much, but wished to hear it from you."
 
 
 
Xanthippe looked around.  Quite a few people, male and female, were quietly milling around, looking like they weren't listening.  "I got mad at Anya, without any good cause, because everyone respected her so much and I didn't know if she deserved it.  Kasim admired her too, so I got mad at him.  I kind of like Kasim; he's not the sharpest spear on the rack, but he's dumb enough to tell me when I'm full of sh!t, and I think I need that."
 
 
 
Raising an eyebrow, Cain said, "Not everyone would choose that in a traveling companion."
 
 
 
"Hey, someone's got to.  You have no idea how wrong I can be."
 
 
 
Cain chuckled, and shook his head. "And the Barbarians accuse outsiders of not speaking plainly."
 
 
 
Kasim came back with two potions.  "Hey.  Think this'll be enough?"
 
 
 
"Should be.  Even strong poison's not that bad.  Gotta run.  Bye!"
 
 
 
As they jogged back to their portal, Cain went upstairs to speak with Malah.  "Hello, Malah."
 
 
 
"Hello, young man," Malah chuckled. "Your sorceress is very close to her goal."
 
 
 
"Yes, she is.  I only wish their battle were taking place outside the keep, not inside.  Anya has shown me the prophecies, and according to them, the Worldstone survives.  But prophets have been wrong before."
 
 
 
At the mention of Anya, Malah stiffened a bit.  "Superstitious things, prophecies.  Why should you listen to them, my fine fellow?"
 
 
 
"Prophets are often correct," Cain said, staring at the floor.  "Sometimes, the only difficulty is the interpretation of their words.  Anya came to me, because she was not sure how she should read the old predictions, and felt my council might help her.  Qual-kehk had refused; it seems he does not think he has the wisdom to judge them."
 
 
 
"Qual-kehk has taken all of this so very hard," Malah tsked.  "He should not be so angry with himself.  The prophecies said our people would be swept away and lost in the great conflict.  There was nothing he could do.  If you believe prophecies, that is."
 
 
 
"Even good prophecies are useless without actions to bring them to pass.  Perhaps I should go and see Anya again.  She may have some more things for me to examine and identify."
 
 
 
As he approached Anya's, Cain heard voices inside.  Now, Cain was not the sort to resort to spying, of course.  However, in his many years of experience, he had found that some are reluctant to speak their minds if they know anyone but their intended audience is listening.  People will say revealing things in confidence, and Cain never betrayed a confidence, even an unacknowledged one.  Well... not never, but hardly ever.
 
 
 
"... and then she said, her man was not the sharpest spear on the rack, but he will tell her off when she needs it.  Now, why would she say that?"
 
 
 
The voice sounded like a young woman's.  As Cain listened, he recognized Anya's voice. "I do not understand.  If she likes him, why does she not go to him?  Instead, she insults him.  If he has no wit, why does she think he can tell her what is right?"
 
 
 
"It is strange," another young female voice said, "but she defeated the Ancients.  She must know of what she speaks, but I do not understand."
 
 
 
There was a long silence.  Cain hurried off a short distance, then approached the house again, coughing a bit to announce his arrival.  Two young Barbarian women left by the back, and Anya met him at the door.  "Greetings, honored visitor.  How may I help yoo?"
 
 
 
"Hello, Anya.  I have a few moments free, and wondered if you had found anything more of the elder's stores of equipment."
 
 
 
"No, I think we have found all there was," Anya smiled.  "But do enter, if yoo wish.  Perhaps yoo could lend me more help with the prophecies."
 
 
 
"I would be delighted."  The ancient Barbaric texts were very interesting, though the runic script was difficult to translate into modern terms.  The same letter, in a different context, could mean something radically different, and subtleties of meaning were often impossible to extract.  While going over the prophecies of Baal, Cain noticed that Anya was fidgeting, twirling her hair around her fingers over and over.
 
 
 
"Something seems to be troubling you, young woman."
 
 
 
"Och, no!" Anya laughed nervously.  "No more than is warranted.  The times are troubled."
 
 
 
"You are worried about our champion, as I am?"
 
 
 
"By the light, no!  She defeated the Ancient Ones themselves, and they honored her!  We all saw the light around the peak, and heard their voices proclaiming her victory!  Baal feared the Ancients, so he holds no fear for her."
 
 
 
Cain nodded slowly.  "Perhaps you are worried for yourself?"
 
 
 
"Yes," Anya said, very simply.  "I do not know what the future will bring for my people.  The prophecies say we will be lost, swept away.  But I do not see how.  The siege that would crush us was lifted; no demon comes near us.  What could destroy us now?"
 
 
 
"Perhaps 'destroy' is not the right word.  See here," Cain pointed to a passage.  "This word could mean 'swept away', but it could also mean 'passed away'; the old simply dies.  Your people live on, but the way they lived is no more."
 
 
 
Anya thought, slowly letting that sink in.  "But... the only way the old ways could die... would be if we no longer guarded sacred Mt. Arreat."
 
 
 
"That might be so, yes..."
 
 
 
Anya suddenly smiled. "That could only mean that the Worldstone will be completely safe.  The prophesies say nothing of its corruption, so Baal will not reach it.  If we no longer must dedicate our lives to its safety, that can only mean it will never be in danger again!  The forces of Hell will be permanently banished from our realm!"
 
 
 
"Now, not so fast!" Cain smiled. "I would love to believe that too, but these prophecies have been difficult to translate.  They have been accurate so far, but only after a certain amount of after-the-fact reinterpretation."
 
 
 
"It is all clear to me now."  A huge weight seemed to have lifted off Anya's shoulders.  "The Worldstone will be safe forever.  We do not need to dedicate our lives to it, as our ancestors have done.  It is their final, and greatest gift: our freedom."
 
 
 
"Your freedom?" Cain asked.
 
 
 
The open smile on Anya's face quickly vanished; she looked embarrassed. "Oh.  It is nothing.  It is just... sometimes, I have wondered, what the rest of the world is like.  As the chief's daughter, I've responsibilities, and could never travel out of sight of the mountain.  There have been times, when it has seemed a burden to me."
 
 
 
Cain smiled indulgently.  "I forget how worldly we must seem to you, and how confusing."
 
 
 
Anya nodded.  "Some of your ways confuse me, a bit."
 
 
 
"I remember when dear Xanthippe became so angry with her hireling, for no apparent reason."
 
 
 
"Yes!  She seemed so angry, but I do not know why."
 
 
 
Cain nodded, pondering which version of the truth would be the best one to tell.  "She did not understand why you were so well-respected here, when you had not fought demons, or been able to stand up to Nihlathak."
 
 
 
"Oh, of course," Anya bowed her head. "He fooled me, as though I were a child.  Blundering so, she would think poorly of me.  Has she changed her mind, now?"
 
 
 
"Oh, yes, in every way.  It no longer upsets her if her man thinks well of you.  You see... I believe she thinks of Kasim as something like an older brother.  Perhaps not very intelligent, but more knowledgeable in the ways of the world, and with a bit more practical sense.  She does not want his head to be turned by... well..."
 
 
 
"By mere beauty," Anya said.  "She is a beauty herself, she would know how easy it can be.  As is right, I should have to prove myself first."
 
 
 
"Ahem.  Yes.  Something like that.  Now, back to these prophecies..."
 
 
 
In the Worldstone Keep, Xanthippe and Kasim had quickly went down three levels.  As they got deeper, they actually caught sight of Baal, riding an elaborate palanquin carried by huge Minotaurs.  Xanthippe quickly ran in pursuit, but a horde of slaves, charged with explosive energy, gathered and blew themselves up as she approached him.  When she'd gotten her bearings again, Baal was gone, and slave meaty bits were all over the place.  Just what does Baal do to get such dedication out of his employees?  No, that's not right; they're slaves, not employees, and probably don't have a choice.  Never mind: next time, teleport.  Remember, teleport!  It's a very useful spell.
 
 
 
At the lowest level, in a central chamber, they finally found Baal waiting for them, surrounded by his sluttiest Succubi and his ugliest Minotaurs.  Behind him was a reddish gate.  Didn't look like he'd gone in yet, so Xanthippe teleported.  Aiming right behind him, determined to block the gate with their own bodies, she and Kasim... reappeared right where they'd been standing.  Damn, he was blocking the spell.
 
 
 
"Hey, wussy-boy!  You any tougher than your brothers?  Or are you gonna send your little girls to take me on instead?" Xanthippe shouted.
 
 
 
Baal theatrically cocked an eyebrow, listening.  "Did I hear a buzzing noise?"
 
 
 
"Yes, great lord," a Minotaur answered.  "An insignificant insect is disgracing your diabolical presence."
 
 
 
"I thought as much.  Go and crush it."
 
 
 
Shrieking and bellowing, Baal's retinue roared into battle.  The slaughter that didn't take nearly as long as you'd think.  Soon, all were dead, but this didn't bother Baal at all.  The giggling bastard was still blocking teleports, so Xanthippe and Kasim charged him.
 
 
 
With an arrogant gesture, Baal cursed them, decrepifying their bodies and wracking them with pain.  With the other hand, he summoned more minions, a pack of... oh, the little shaman guys Diablo had sprinkled all over the Rogue pass.  Chopping them to bits, Xanthippe couldn't resist a small dig: "Oh, how cute.  Can't you do better than that?"
 
 
 
Deigning to notice her, Baal laughed even louder.  "It is advisable not to break in such a special lady too quickly."  With another gesture, a new group of monsters appeared: some Greater Mummies, with a bunch of Burning Dead mages.
 
 
 
For these, Xanthippe used Static Field a few times, smashed all the Greaters, and finally all the skellies.  Good thing they'd brought antidotes, those guys had serious corpse breath.  Then a bunch of Kurast council members appeared, though Xanthippe was sure there weren't any of them left.  Oh well, at least Baal wasn't bringing in Flayers.  The head councilor was lightning enchanted, but Xanthippe and Kasim both found sweet spots and killed him without taking a bolt.  All the while, Baal sat up there, tossing off curses and more minions.  Diablo and Mephisto weren't nearly this annoying.  Maybe Baal was the "arrogant wimp" brother.
 
 
 
Next were Balrogs, as weak as the big guys down in Hell had been.  The Minotaurs were more respectable, even though they looked less impressive.  "Baal, Baal, Baal," Xanthippe shook her head.  "You just don't know how to satisfy your 'special ladies', do you?  Is that why you keep so many around?  Can you say 'overcompensation'?  If this is the best you can do, you must be hung like a field mouse."
 
 
 
The annoying laughter stopped.  "Ooh, did I touch a sore spot?" Xanthippe asked with a big smile.  Baal was still smiling, but it was a cruel sort of smirk; he threw down a new group of minions for them to play with.  These were strange, fleshy things with huge teeth and spines out of every part of their bodies.  Not sure what they were capable of, Xanthippe teleported herself and Kasim back, and tried to bring just one out to test.  They hit harder and faster than anything they'd ever seen before; then the rest rushed in.
 
 
 
Taking on the whole pack would be suicide.  Xanthippe teleported back a few times, hoping to string them out into manageable groups.  It mostly worked; when she finally decided to stand and fight, there were only three of them to deal with.  But that included the big one, whose touch drained spiritual power.  Kasim nearly died twice, she nearly died three times, and her thunderbolts didn't strike nearly as often as she would have liked.  When they got back to Baal's chamber, the demon lord was gone.  They ran through the gate.
 
 
 
The Worldstone hovered in the air inside a huge cave, with a single causeway extending from a broad ledge up to the stone itself.  The thing was huge, glowing with reds and purples, absolutely beautiful; slowly walking down the causeway towards it was Baal.  "Ah!  Isn't it magnificent!  Don't you think so?  I can't wait for it to be mine!"
 
 
 
"Get him!"  Baal was still blocking teleports.  As they ran around the ledge, long tentacles burst from the floor under their feet, hauling them into the air.
 
 
 
"Oh, dear, my shoe is untied," Baal said, stopping.  "But wait: I don't have shoes!  Silly me!"  He continued his slow amble up to the Worldstone as Xanthippe and Kasim struggled and chopped their way out of the tentacles.
 
 
 
Rounding a corner, more tentacles exploded out in front of Xanthippe and Kasim.  Baal lowered himself to the ground.  "All this traveling is so wearying.  I'd better rest a bit."
 
 
 
Swearing, hacking through the tentacles, Xanthippe and Kasim reached the causeway.  With a gesture, Baal blasted them with a wave of icy cold, knocking them off their feet and back into the far wall. "Ah, that was refreshing!  It gets so warm in these caves, I was about to lay down for a nap."  He continued his slow approach to the Worldstone.
 
 
 
All manner of imprecations boiling out of their mouths, Xanthippe and Kasim split up and ran to the causeway two separate ways.  When they reached it, Baal glanced back, and another Baal appeared in front of them.  Their weapons bit into him; it wasn't an illusion.  But after a few swings, the new Baal vanished, and the old Baal was standing next to the Worldstone.  "I am *so* exhausted.  How can I ever reach up and claim my prize?"
 
 
 
"DON'T YOU FVCKING DARE, YOU SORRY-A$$ BASTARD!!"  They sprinted up the causeway and dove into Baal, just as he reached up, and delicately put one finger on the Worldstone.  "You lose."  As Baal laughed, veins of black shot through the beautiful crystalline purity of the Worldstone, with a sound like ice crunching and shattering filling the chamber.
 
 
 
They still killed him.  It didn't take nearly as long as Diablo's death, or even Mephisto's.  Kasim took one last full rejuve to keep alive, but Baal dropped, puking and laughing out his last breath, strange ghostly souls escaping his mangled carcass.  As Xanthippe jumped up and down on his chitonous body, Tyrael floated into the Worldstone chamber.
 
 
 
"ABOUT FVUCKING TIME!" Xanthippe snarled, then remembered herself.  "I mean, you must have been delayed."
 
 
 
The angel graciously ignored Xanthippe's greeting.  "The chamber was blocked to me; my own abilities lose much of their strength, so close to the Worldstone."
 
 
 
"Huh?"
 
 
 
"Ages ago, when we left your world, Heaven placed the Worldstone here to protect you.  Its purpose is... was to prevent alien energies for entering this plane.  Diabolical, as well as angelic."
 
 
 
Xanthippe looked at the tendrils of blackness lancing through the Worldstone's scarlet glow.  One theory of teleportation is that it takes a mage out of the universe itself, to return them an instant later in another place.  Maybe it wasn't Baal blocking her spell after all.  He might actually have been dangerous, further away from the Worldstone.  "What about now?"
 
 
 
"Now, Baal's touch has corrupted it, just as he and his brothers corrupted the soulstones made in its likeness.  Over time, its energies would drain away completely, and it would cease to function as a barrier.  It would become a lens, empty, but able to focus outside energies into your world."
 
 
 
"To make something like a gate, maybe."
 
 
 
"Or more terrible things.  Once broken, the Worldstone cannot be repaired; replacing it would be all but impossible."
 
 
 
"But Heaven made one, can't they make another?"
 
 
 
Tyrael almost seemed sad.  "Perhaps.  If I am allowed to enter the gates of Heaven again, I shall petition my fellows for another."  He touched the Worldstone, at the same spot Baal did.  Whiteness sliced into it, filling the empty blackness, but the red energy the stone was filled with before did not return.  "This Worldstone cannot be allowed to remain here.  Whatever becomes of it would be inimical to your world.  It must be destroyed."
 
 
 
A sharp crackle erupted from the Worldstone, as the blackness shattered a mote of redness within it.  The white chased the black, filling the cavity.  "What happens after that?"
 
 
 
"That, even I cannot foresee."  Tyrael opened up a gate.  "Go, mortal.  This is not the end of your world.  A wall between you and the fiery abyss has been obliterated, but all is not lost.  I shall appeal to Heaven to forgive my blindness, and perhaps --"
 
 
 
"No," Xanthippe said.  "We can stand up to Hell.  If Heaven doesn't give us another stone, we'll just have to make do on our own, won't we?  It's not like that's a bad thing."
 
 
 
"Perhaps.  But nothing will be as it was.  This gate will take you to Harrogath.  Tell the people this: their duty is done, Arreat will no longer remain a sacred place.  What will become of your world, none can say."
 
 
 
Xanthippe and Kasim took the gate, reappearing in Harrogath.  Several Barbarians were there to greet them, but Xanthippe ignored their questions; she was staring up at the peak of Mt. Arreat.  The ground trembled, and the town went quiet.  After several seconds, in absolute silence, the peak of Mt. Arreat burst open in a flare of light brighter than the sun.  The sky went dark, and tremors in the earth knocked everyone from their feet.
 
 
 
The earth shook for what seemed like minutes, the thick walls of Harrogath groaning and its buildings losing pieces of stone.  When it stopped, and they looked up, Arreat had lost its peak, and a cloud was sliding down the mountain.  Bits of rock, drops of water and ice, and reddish shards of crystal began to rain into the streets.  Everyone took shelter, and no one spoke until it was all over.
 
 
 
As calmly as she could, Xanthippe explained what had happened, and what Tyrael had said.  Reactions among the Barbarians were mixed; some wept, and blamed her for all that was lost.  Others were more philosophical.  Despite all they said, Xanthippe couldn't bring herself to care.  She was tired, very tired, and just wanted to go home.  Where is home, she wondered?  Not here.  While she was wondering if Jerhyn would rent out a wing of his palace (she knew she could afford it,) Anya quietly spoke to her.
 
 
 
"Are yoo leaving, then?" she asked.
 
 
 
"Don't think I can stay," Xanthippe mumbled.  "I failed.  I should go."
 
 
 
"Please, stay as long as yoo like.  None could have succeeded.  But..." Anya nervously looked down at the floor.  "If yoo go, could I come with yoo?"
 
 
 
Xanthippe blinked. "Why would you want to leave?"
 
 
 
"I know what yoo'll say: I've responsibilities to my people.  But I've been thinking.  We were was the chiefs of Harrogath, we'd no clan of our own.  We kept the clans united to protect sacred Mt. Arreat, and the Worldstone."
 
 
 
"And now there's nothing to unite the clans."
 
 
 
"I fear not.  Our authority was the word of Heaven, and our ancestors.  That is gone now."
 
 
 
Slowly, Xanthippe nodded.  "You don't think your people will need you?"
 
 
 
"On the contrary, I think they will.  But what can I do to help them now?  Things have not gone as I hoped, but I know the old ways will pass away.  I need to know a new way if I'm to offer any guidance.  I need learning, knowledge, like you have."
 
 
 
Xanthippe was surprised by that, and a little alarmed; her faith in her knowledge wasn't what it used to be.  "Malah knows a lot, probably a lot more than I do."
 
 
 
"I do not want to follow Malah's ways," Anya bowed her head, "as wise as she may be.  I heard yoo say once, that yoo were often wrong.  It may be wiser to know and say yoo are often wrong, than never to know at all."
 
 
 
Feeling a bit stunned, Xanthippe stared at Anya.  "Um... I... heh."  She started to feel embarrassed again.  "Mind you, I'm lousy about admitting when I'm wrong."
 
 
 
"Yoo've a temper, I've felt it," Anya smiled.  "But then it passes.  Like a spark of lightning, it appears, makes a noise, and then is gone.  It does not burn for years in yoor heart."
 
 
 
Xanthippe nodded.  It was a fair description.  "What will your people do while you're gone?"
 
 
 
"The clans may break apart, there is little to hold them together.  Or, they may not; with so many warriors dead, we may band together in the cities for protection."
 
 
 
"You have other cities?"
 
 
 
"Sescheron, our capital, on the edge of our lands.  Outsiders sometimes visit there; it is a grand city, though not so great as Harrogath."
 
 
 
Xanthippe almost laughed.  To cover the grin, she picked up a bit of shining red crystal from the street, pondering it.  "What do you think you'll see, outside?"
 
 
 
"Something different from what's here.  They may think I'm ignorant and stupid; I'll bring a sword.  There may be thieves and liars too, but I must learn to deal with them sometime."
 
 
 
Xanthippe laughed.  "If you want thieves and liars, there's no better place than Lut Gholein.  You can see where I was born.  Then, I'll take you over to the Zann Esu.  If you can deal with them, you can deal with anybody.  You might pick up a good trick or two, too.  And if you're going to see the world, you've got to see Kurast.  I mean, if you think this is a city, you haven't seen nothin'.  It kind of got trashed in the wars, but there's still a lot left.  Oh, and the sea!  You've never seen the sea, have you?  Everyone should sail on the open ocean at least once in their lives.  You might want a hat for the sun, I think pale people burn more easily... Hey, Kasim!  Quit playing with the Barbs and get over here."
 
 
 
A few of the Barb women had been talking with Kasim.  They sure had lost a lot of their shyness for him.  Maybe they were worried about there not being enough young men left in the highlands.  With some reluctance, Kasim broke away.  "Yeah, boss?"
 
 
 
"Pack up.  You're Anya's bodyguard now; don't touch her even if she wants you to.  We're going home."
 
 
 
"Home?  Yeah?"
 
 
 
"Yeah." Xanthippe looked around Kasim at the young Barbs.  "Want to bring any of your new friends with you?"
 
 
 
"Eh... well, they're ok lookin' while they're still young..."
 
 
 
"Sure.  We can rent a wing of Jerhyn's palace.  He's had hordes of young women in there before.  If they want to go back, they can just use the waypoint."
 
 
 
"Whoa!  You think we can live in the palace?"
 
 
 
"Kasim, I think I could buy the damn palace and hire Jerhyn as a butler."
 
 
 
Kasim frowned.  "Then how come I never saw any of that?"
 
 
 
"Look at what you're wearing.  You could buy a mansion for what that armor cost."
 
 
 
"Oh."
 
 
 
"Pardon," Anya said, "but you said you came from a desert?"
 
 
 
"Yeah," Xanthippe answered.
 
 
 
"How can a desert be so rich, that there are palaces there?"
 
 
 
Xanthippe smirked.  "First, we go there and get settled in.  Next comes the 'Economics 101: The Mercantile System' lecture series.  You'll probably hate it, but that's what school is for.  Pack your bags, grab some weapons, and keep your minds open.  Things are going to get really strange.  But who knows?  Once you get used to it, you might like it."
 
 
 
 
 
Concluding thoughts:
 
#Whoof, this took a long time to write.  That girl sure is long-winded.
 
#I know I don't have any magic find at all, but you'd think Baal would have the courtesy to drop something halfway decent.
 
#Finally used Charsi's Imbue, on a circlet I found.  Came out nice... for an Amazon.  It's little things like that what make me love muling.
 
#The Mule now has a brother, for the socketed stuff.
 
 
 
 
 
This has been fun, and Xanthippe is heading off into Nightmare level.  I'll put out updates if she comes across anything good, but her story has been told and it's time to move on.  Let us leave Xanthippe to whatever strangeness life brings her, and start our quest again with the next character in line, someone of nobler bearing and a lot less swearing: the Paladin.
 

Latest revision as of 09:38, 12 February 2017