Chapter Text
Keris is packing for her departure for An Teng. Sasi advised her that it would be best that she be prepared fully for all kinds of things. It is at this point that her butler arrives, telling her that Unquestionable Shashalme requests her presence with all urgency.
Passing the last crate of lead sling pellets she had commissioned from Dulmea’s old supplier - which after considerable agonising are split two ways into blank ones, and ones with “Duck” engraved on them in Old Realm - Keris takes a moment to examine herself in the mirror.
Not bad, she decides, but for a meeting with an Unquestionable? It needs to be better. Her dress ripples into a facsimile of the one she’s come to think of as her flower-goddess dress; all soft pink and deep red carnations broken here and there by vivid fire lilies.
She shifts her earrings into roses to match them, and hurries to follow Mehuni out.
Shashalme is an Unquestionable of Hungry Metagaos - the twelfth soul, if Keris remembers correctly. They’re known as the Scatterer of Seeds - and they are a they, at least when not in their presence. Shashalme has two major aspects, one male and one female, and expects to be addressed correctly based on their aspect at the present time. They dwell outside of the Swamp themselves, in a garden-body which has subsumed a district of Malfeas. Those who eat from the fruit of the garden fall under their sway, and thus they have many demon-slaves who serve their every whim.
It is not a short trip to where the Unquestionable waits. Indeed, even though they sent transport for Keris, she travels for three screams of the tomescu before she arrives, crossing several layers on a great sky-canoe drawn by maggots.
She dismounts the ship with some relief - a day and a half cooped up on the thing wasn’t as bad as the five day trip to Cecelyne on Alveua’s walking pagoda had been, but it still feels good to stretch her legs again. She enters the gardens warily but respectfully, looking around in awe and carefully not touching anything.
The ruins of the Malfean apartments and towers are overgrown and barely visible under the sprawling plants which cover it. It’s humid, and Ligier’s light is cool and pleasant - almost as pleasant as within the Conventicle. Beautiful music plays in the background, from the countless demons who squat all over the ruined structures, under the cover of the plants. The plants for their part blossom with every single kind of fruit Keris has ever seen, and several she hasn’t. The plants each blossom several kinds of fruit.
Keris is shown along the winding paths and overgrown alleys, until she’s welcomed to the central plaza. Here, great piles of treasure are stacked high, bound up under the roots of trees.
And on a throne in the centre, Unquestionable Shashalme waits for Keris. She - and she is a she at the moment - is a tall woman with blood red skin covered in tattoos and jewelry and bracelets of pale petrified wood. Twelve arms sprout from her shoulders and back, and all of them overflow with wealth - it literally drips from her hands. She smiles as Keris bows to her, showing two rows of sharp teeth made of pale wood. Her countless slaves are fanning her with giant leaves.
“Peer Keris Dulmeadokht,” she says. “I thank you for your speed in responding to my request for your presence.” She gestures to an open area of ground in front of her. “Kneel,” she says. Without any words, two slaves move to fan Keris with the leaves too.
Keris kneels. “Honoured Unquestionable,” she says, keeping the shake out of her voice. Shashalme... she’s as strong as the Prince Upon the Tower, but not necessarily inclined to be as friendly. And Keris doesn’t know why she’s summoned her. And if she stumbles like she did with Alveua, the Unquestionable probably won’t take it nearly as well. “How could I fail to heed your request? I came as soon as I got your message.”
Shashalme presses three of her pairs of hands together, looking over them at Keris. “By my understanding,” she says, “you will be taking up residence in An Teng.” It’s an obvious lead-in. “I have certain interests in An Teng, little Keris.”
Keris nods. Okay. Um. Let’s see, what would Sasi do... ah! “I will, my lady,” she agrees, “under Peer Sasimana’s command.” She considers asking flat-out why the Unquestionable isn’t talking to Sasi herself about this, but... well, the only explanation she can think of is that maybe she has, and it didn’t go well. Which means asking would be a bad idea. “You, um, wish me to aid your interests there?” she asks instead, rhetorically.
“Oh, indeed,” Shashalme says. She gestures over her garden and the wealth within. “I am generous beyond belief,” she says. “Look at everything I can give to those who serve me. I pass gifts to any who aid me. My generosity is matched only by my desire. Those who aid me in my desires, I reward. And I desire An Teng.”
Keris blinks, thrown for a moment by the sheer casual audacity of wanting to own an entire city-state. “What? Wait. All of it?” Then she remembers who - and what - she is talking to. “Oh. Oh. Of course all of it. That’s...” She bows and scrambles for words. “I... great lady, if you are as generous as you are ambitious, I envy those you favour. Uh. May I ask, when you say you desire An Teng... um, how do you mean? Worship, or control, or...?”
“There is no difference,” Unquestionable Shashalme says, with a six-shouldered shrug. “To adore me is to obey me,” she says, running one hand along the jaw of an adoring slave sitting on the mounds of gold by her throne. “I have given these miserable serfs everything and made them much more than they once were, and so they adore me for it.” She gestures around her. “Take what you will. Slaves, wealth, weapons, whatever you desire. Spread my cults. Slay my foes. You, Keris Dulmeadokht - I chose you for two reasons. I know you will be in An Teng, which is a pleasant place I wish to be mine. But I also know my greater self considers you to have much promise, that you are akin to a little sapling who may one day become a mighty tree. You have learned our lessons well. To aid me is to aid yourself. Am I not generous?”
Keris bows low. Very low. This... this amounts to the personal backing of one of the Unquestionable. Access to... to potentially anything she has, and that is a big, big ‘anything’. And in return, as far as Keris can see, she just has to do more or less what she’d be doing anyway.
She’ll have to mention it to Sasi, of course. But Sasi will understand. It’s not like Keris could say ‘no’.
“Generous beyond my wildest imaginings, my lady,” she agrees. “I will do my very best to meet your expectations of me.”
“I do think we shall get upon marvelously, Little Keris,” Shashelme says, rising from her chair. As she does that, her figure shifts and her skin darkens, until she’s now a man with skin the colour of ebony, in robes which look like they’re made of paper. He has an imperial bearing, and drips with gems and jewels, all in soft organic colours. “My shrines shall be raised high and my worshippers shall see that truly my gifts are without measure compared to the usurper gods.”
Not entirely trusting her voice, Keris nods. “At your will and pleasure, lord,” she agrees, heady with relief, already planning what she can do with the resources this will give her access to. Maybe send someone out to find her hometown! Or learn more Sorcery; potent, powerful spells! Or... or... her mind whirls wildly with the possibilities.
He spreads his arms wide. “As I said,” he says, “take what you will. Am I not generous?”
Keris looks around, evaluating what there seems to be on offer - and what of it will be useful to her in An Teng. “Truly generous, lord,” she murmurs, her head swivelling to take everything in.
Keris remembers at this moment that Shashalme’s generosity is like that of a fruit - seeds of obligation are held within his juicy tenderness and sweetness.
((I had wondered~))
That gives her pause. Not a lot of pause, but some. If she takes anything from here, she’ll be bound and obligated to do what he wants. On the other hand, if she just says “no thank you“, he’ll probably be offended, given how much he’s emphasising his generosity. She frantically thinks back to Sasi’s lessons... ah! She just needs an excuse for why she can’t take anything right now. And Sasi also gives her a reason.
... it’s still kind of tempting to go grab things anyway. Especially... oh, oh, that spear that one of the slaves is offering. So pretty. So pretty... he must have known she used a spear before she came here, to have something like that waiting on offer. But... yeah, if she asks to talk to Sasi first so she doesn’t take anything she doesn’t need...
“Child,” Dulmea warns sharply. “He prides himself on his generosity. That will likely only lead to him telling you to take everything you might need.”
Keris pauses again. ‘Damn,’ she comments silently. ‘You’re right. Uh...’ She wracks her brains, trying to think of another excuse quickly enough that Shashalme doesn’t grow impatient.
((You can roll Reaction + Politics here to think on your feet))
((oh god yes. I had ‘please, let me come back to you with results before rewarding me, I wouldn’t want to take anything I haven’t earned’ as a backup, but... eurgh. Does the above count as a stunt?))
((Yes. 2 dice.))
((Kay, lessee. 5+1+2 Coadj+2 stunt=10. WHAT THE FUCK 2 SUCCESSES AGAIN WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO, DICE FAIRIES?!))
Keris is running a blank.
“Child,” Dulema suggests, “hmm. Perhaps you should find something practical of fairly low value, so he feels he has a hold on you - and something you can pay off.”
Keris nods in relief. ‘Good idea,’ she thinks. ‘Okay, let me see...’ She scans the surroundings; the piles of gold, the slaves - no, she thinks, they’re being paid, after all, so they’re really more like servants - and the lavish artifacts. What does she need, though...
... oh, huh. Well, she has her Cherub Shrine. Another something like that, maybe? It’s expensive, but nowhere near as expensive as something like her Lance is. If need be, she could probably pay for it with... hmm. She mentally weighs the scales, considering the value of a Sorcerous artifact in the eyes of an Unquestionable.
Keris tilts her head enquiringly. He would consider her failing to take something that’s at least a little art of artifice as an insult, unless she took vast amounts of wealth or slaves. She suspects that any slaves she took would still belong to him.
From what she remembers, too, Shashelme appreciates beauty and aesthetics - as this place indicates. He’d probably think better of Keris if she chose something beautiful. Of course, the weapons and armour here are often beautiful too.
((Damn. And I had an idea all lined up, too. Hmm. In that case... something useful, beautiful and which she doesn’t already have.))
((Hah. Of course, there are other treasures beyond just artifacts.))
((True, yeah.))
((Like maps of things which might be hidden in An Teng.))
((... ooooo~))
Keris thinks it over for some time before an answer comes to her. After a few murmured questions to one of the servants, she is brought a selection of beautifully painted scrolls; as much masterpieces of artwork as they are invaluable references.
All share a common theme. Maps of An Teng. Some are very, very old; made back before the Exalted even existed, in the Time of Glories when Primordials ruled. Others are more recent; painted or drawn using information gleaned from Yozi cults and demons who have slipped free of the prison that is Malfeas.
All are exquisitely done, whatever the medium, and symbols dot them here and there - long-lost secrets now known only by the Yozis and their souls.
“If it pleases you, my lord,” says Keris humbly, “I will take these.”
Keris is half-sure that Shashelme is actually genuinely both very amused and pleased with her. She picks them up, and feels a warm fuzziness seeping into her.
((Mechanically, each scene you keep one of Shashelme’s gifts counts as a scene of building a Principle of Slavish Adoration towards them, up to a limit of the Artifact rating of the gifts, as an Emotion effect. Resources 5 counts as A1 - Followers and Command are priced as A2. You can pay down the debt by providing goods or services back to them rated at the same cost - obviously as they give out artifacts, it can build up quite quickly. You can also spend (gift rating) wp to act for a scene as if you don’t have the Principle.
Keris has taken a large collection of rare and valuable maps, so together they’re worth A2 as a total.))
((So, 2-dot. Oh, Keris.))
Keris is blushing as she leaves - blushing enough that she forgets to make sure she’s out of sight before stowing the maps away in her Domain, even - and resolves to do her very best to repay the Unquestionable for his kindness. And also to stay on his good side for as long as possible.
Keris spends a good two or three hours of the journey back in the initial rush of NEW PRETTY THINGS. She’s so absorbed that she barely notices not being able to run around, and is actually sort of surprised at how interesting comparing the shape of coastlines and the locations of cities is.
The novelty wears off sometime around finding the island she and Sasi had stayed on and so on in the Shogunate - having been going through them in order of age from the oldest onward - and she has a couple of mindless musician-serfs put them up on the walls of her library before heading off to play tag with Echo and swim up to cuddle the moon for a bit.
In deference to the fact that it is a library, they are playing string instruments. Very quietly.
((Roll me Cog + Occult, then))
((2+3+2 stunt=7. 6 SUX? Oh, NOW you like me, dice fairies? NOW? After I’ve FINISHED talking to the Olympian god?))
((Arrgh.))
Keris thinks - although she’s by no means an expert - that she recognises some of these things from the libraries of Orabilis. They’re manse-flow diagrams, some of them - showing the locations of dragon lines and confluences. There are a lot of manses shown from the Shogunate-era map. Like, a lot. A lot a lot.
She wakes briefly - purely for business and not at all because Echo has tagged her sixteen times in a row without Keris catching her once, the irritatingly stealthy and quiet little sneak - long enough to get out her Cherub Shrine and send Sasi a message roughly describing where she went, what Shashelme wanted, and what she took from him.
In deference to the fact that she is still on Shashelme’s sky-barge, it is a very carefully worded message that speaks of him in glowing tones.
((... sigh. Keris. You can just FLG the Principle whenever you feel like it.))
When Keris gets back to the Conventicle, Sasi rushes back to examine her with invisible telekinetic hands. “You’re not infected with anything,” she says, sounding relieved after poking and prodding Keris for a bit.
“Hello to you too,” says Keris automatically, before registering Sasi’s words. “... oh. Right. Uh, good. Thank you. That’s... good.”
She hadn’t even considered that, and shivers at the thought. “Um... no, it was... alright? Terrifying, but alright. She - she was a she at the start - wanted me to ‘aid her in her desires’, and apparently she desires An Teng? Like, all of it. All of it.” She spreads her hair out in emphasis.
“And then he offered me anything I wanted - anything I wanted - but I remembered how his gifts are like his fruit so I only took some maps of An Teng, which seem like they could come in useful and probably don’t put me too much in his debt.”
Sasi exhales slowly. “There are no good choices there,” she says, after some thought. “Insulting the Shashelme would have been very risky. Keep your distance from it. It’s very dangerous - as befits one of the Unquestionable.”
Keris opens her mouth to say that he seemed to like her and that she was rather pretty and that she’s certainly at least going to pay him back, thinks better of it, and closes her mouth again. “I’m... not sure how much I’ll be able to do that,” she hazards instead. “There was a reason they asked me specifically.”
Sasi hisses in annoyance. “Well, take care,” she says. “It’ll no doubt try to get you to accept more of its gifts. Try to pay off whatever you can, and only take what you need.” She shakes her head. “Unquestionable Iasestus and Unquestionable Ululaya will not be happy if it has thrown its hat into the ring in An Teng. And I doubt Madelrada will be pleased - she’s already... ah, out of place with Ululaya’s interference.”
Keris considers that for a moment, and then leans into Sasi for a hug; seeking reassurance. “She... she said that her greater self thinks I have promise,” she mumbles. “That I’m a sapling that might one day be a tree. The All-Hunger Blossom knows me, Sasi. It’s paying attention to me.”
Sasi hugs her back, and leans in to kiss her on the lips. “You walk a painful path, so close to the All-Makers,” she says. “I myself am fortunate that the Desert, the Principle and the Dragon have paid no true attention to me. I can deal with the Unquestionable. The All-Makers, though...” she shrugs.
Keris gives her a wobbly smile. “If that was meant to be comforting, you’re really bad at it,” she criticises with a hint of wry humour. “At... least the Great Mother hasn’t really paid me much notice. I mean, besides answering a couple of prayers.” She takes a shaky breath, then another. “There’s still time before we leave, right? I need a run. I really need a run. Clear my head a bit, maybe let Echo out to play.”
“A little later,” Sasi says. “Now that you’re here - and actually listening to me - I wanted to talk to you a little bit about An Teng. And answer some questions. Obviously we’ll talk more as we cross the Desert, but there are a few things I wanted to say.”
Keris nods, and gives Sasi her full attention, pulling out one of the more recent maps as an afterthought.
She gives Sasi a moment to examine the rich thread - this one is a weaving - and appreciate the worksmanship. Or worksdemonship, since she suspects the material is anhule silk.
Sasi clears her throat, and leans over the map. “An Teng,” she begins, “is... well, I suppose I should say that it’s a lot like a more unified Scavenger Lands. Although it’s all one satrapy, the local rulers are far more divided. There are three Princes, ruling each over a section of the land. There’s the Shore Lands, which are ruled by Prince Laxhander from the City of the Steel Lotus. This is the most Realm-influenced area of the land, and trades widely. The land is poor quality, though, and so it’s reliant on food from the Middle Lands, ruled by Prince Kiotaran from the city of Prosperous View. The Middle Lands are the breadbasket of An Teng. Finally, there’s the High Lands, to the east in the mountains, which are the most conservative and least-Realm influenced area. They export a lot of silver and gems. But they’re just the princes of the land - the local lords have lots of personal power.”
Keris nods, four hair tendrils tracing across the map with a delicate touch. “And I’m working against the Dynasts in the Shore Lands,” she says. “So cutting off their food supplies would be one way to hurt them; make them spend their trade money on getting fed instead of getting rich.” She taps the ocean segment with the fourth lock. “How much of their trade is over the sea?”
((o sasi. If Keris does wreck food shipments, you can be there with nice handy locusts for sale~))
“A lot. The rivers are how they move food and goods from the High and Middle Lands to the Shore Lands. An Teng is very naval from a trade perspective - it’s hard to cross land there. Even in the areas they’ve cleared, it’s all rice paddies. Where it hasn’t been cleared, there’s bamboo forests and mangroves closer to the shore.
She pauses. “Now, I may have given you the wrong impression when I talked about princes.” she says. “The Tengese are a peculiar sort. They’re matrilineal like sensible people, but they don’t believe women should rule. That means that while the land passes down the female line, the husband marries into the family and runs it for her. Women aren’t meant to fight - they’re too pure and spiritual for that - and they have a tie to the land in a way men don’t.” Her tone is mocking. “That means that while the Princes rule - they’re cousins, by the way, the Tengese royal families are one extended clan - they technically do so at the sufferance of their wives. If they ever went too far, the population would side with the wife over the Prince.
“And that’s another thing. The Tengese are... strange about family. It’s everything to them. It defines everything about you. If you do not marry, you are a failure to your family. If you bear the children of someone who is not your husband, the woman, the child and the man are all put to death in traditional areas. Being expelled from your family is a death sentence - they have a caste of... it translates as ‘Misbegotten’, people who don’t belong to a recognised family.”
Keris frowns. “Women don’t fight, have to marry... uh, what do they think of... I mean, what would they think of...” she gestures between them. “You know. You and me.”
“We’re foreigners. They’ll rip us off, but we’re not expected to know any better. We’re barbarians who don’t come from reputable families and who don’t have clan members who can help us,” Sasi says, her face in a sardonic sneer. “But if we assume Tengese shapes with the aid of the Dragon’s gifts, these things will matter.”
Keris relaxes somewhat. “Okay,” she breathes. “So we’re fine in these shapes even though they’ll think I’m awful for about ten different reasons. Got it. Hmm. What if one ooooor two of the times we needed to both look Tengese, I disguised myself as a boy?” Sasi doesn’t look like she really buys the rapid mid-sentence change in direction, but Keris is inclined to play it “better safe than sorry” when it comes to possibly offending her lover.
“Male disguises are useful,” Sasi says, nodding. “Most Tengese women never leave the area where they’re born. They’re ‘tied to the land’ because they’re the ones who inherit it.”
“Right. So, what’s our cover this time? Am I your bodyguard again, or... oh, or maybe a musician or something? Wait, no, you were already down there before I met you, weren’t you? So you have a set-up there already?”
Sasi nods. “I have control of a network of families in the City of the Steel Lotus - that’s the capital of An Teng. Technically Salt-Founded Glory is the capital of the Shore Lands, but the Prince spends all his time in Lotus. He’s very pro-Realm - a born sycophant.” She looks Keris up and down, curling around her closer. “I was going to have you move around more,” she whispers into Keris’ ear. “You like that, don’t you? Seeing new places? Meeting new people. Killing many of them.”
Keris grins happily, her eyes glinting. “Do I get to play with ships as well?” she croons gleefully. “All the pretty ships full of pretty things that cost lots and lots of money, with pretty wooden hulls below the water?”
“Some of the time,” Sasi says. “Other times, you’ll need to go inland.” She strokes Keris’ hair. “An Teng’s gods are quite active. And of course, they have widespread ancestor worship, despite the Immaculates’ best efforts to wipe it out.”
Keris purrs at the touch. “That sounds fun,” she mumbles. “And I feel better now. Thank you.” She hugs Sasi and kisses her on the lips, before rising with a stretch. “Still sort of need that run, though. Was there anything else? I’ll be back in an hour or two, as soon as I burn off some energy and let Echo out. She’s been getting restless. And that makes her go poke at the moon, and that makes Rathan cry, and then he makes it rain everywhere, and then Dulmea complains.” She sighs mournfully. “Why couldn’t I have well-behaved souls? Who weren’t brats?”
Sasi shakes her head sadly. “I have no idea,” she says, with utmost sincerity clear and evident in her voice.
Keris heads out at an easy lope, heading for the shores of Kimbery. They’re wide and open, and not much lives there, and a lot of what does are dumb beasts. She can let Echo out to play freely.
And she does; the Scourge flying along the iridescent beach, her pale red shadow flitting along behind her. Her spear flickers out to strike at the sand, at gnarled trees clawing out a life from Kimbery’s waters, at brightly-coloured crawling things in the surf.
Behind her, Echo laughs her silent laugh and mimics her, slashing merrily at the waves and carefully splitting newts and fish in twain, kicking up billows of sand and clots of mud and swirling them around in Keris’s wake.
Ice is rolling in off the sea. A fleet of bergs is crashing in. They’ll soon dash themselves against the windowless buildings which function as a sea wall.
Keris giggles and changes course, sprinting across the water and cutting ribbons of glittering ice-water from the ocean surface as she careens over the bergs, splitting some asunder and leaving others entirely unmarred as the mood takes her.
Glancing back, Echo appears to be trying to practice writing by cutting shapes that could be letters into the ice. Given the speed at which the pair are moving, they have a tendency to be somewhat sloppy, and rather elongated.
((It is debateable whether she can actually read them, or whether she’s just copying pretty shapes.))
((Echo got 3 successes on her ‘writain’ roll))
((D’awww. She has left a pretty message saying “eko waz ‘ere”.))
It was quite demanding to break all these super-massive icebergs, and Keris soul burns bright around her.
Bored with the icebergs, she turns again and heads inland - or what she thinks was probably inland. Uh. Hmm. It appears that the ice floes went on for a bit further than she’d thought. Land is no longer in- oh wait, no, there it is. Keris changes course slightly and heads for the beaches of Cecelyne - it looks like the Endless Desert has engulfed part of this layer, for she can see brass and basalt buildings buried under the sands.
Keris must be on one of the smaller layers, for it to be so close to the edge of the city. She’s still not perfectly at ease with Malfean geography. And also Malfean geometry.
A hot dry wind is blowing in from the Desert. It smells of rock and... and nothing alive. It’s always quite distinctive compared to the City, which... well, smells a bit like a more metallic Nexus in a lot of the areas.
She turns to follow the wind, which is probably leading back into the city rather than further into the Desert - she said she’d be back in a few hours, not a few days. It’s trickier to keep Echo out and occupied out here where there’s nothing much to attack, and the little waif is having so much fun that Keris is loathe to bring it to an end just yet.
At the moment, Echo is enjoying a piggyback ride. Which basically means that Keris has a little wind-waif riding on her shoulders, waving her spear around like the tiniest and most-made-of-murder-wind horseman ever.
She indulgently lets her hair blow back and upward, and Echo scrambles up it to see the world from a rather higher perspective than she’s usually able to. She seems to find being taller than everyone else to be rather fun, even if “everyone else” currently only consists of Keris and, briefly, a few unfortunate sand-dwellers.
Keris looks up, and frowns slightly. Actually, now that she looks at her, she thinks... Echo is slightly taller. She’s grown slightly.
‘She’s getting bigger,’ she thinks to Dulmea. ‘Like she’s growing up, almost. Though... huh. It’s been what, two seasons since she was born? Or, uh. Grown. Budded.”
“I hope she grows up. Maybe she’ll learn to keep away from my teacups,” Dulmea says grouchily.
This earns her a giggle. ‘She’s just trying to impress you,’ Keris argues. ‘Having tea like a proper little angyalka. It’s not her fault she breaks them by touching them. Besides, can’t you just make more?’
“It’s not the same,” Dulmea insists. “I put a lot of effort into those teacups. And some of them are ones you give me!“
‘And I know I can get more,’ Keris points out. ‘Same way I got those ones. At least as long as there are places selling teacups around. Ooo, do you think An Teng has special teas?’
Keris certainly thinks she remembers them having funny foreign drinks in that bit of Nexus with those people from the South West in it.
She glances up at Echo, who is now capering along her hair like it’s a tightrope, and rolls her eyes. “Alright little miss,” she calls. “You’ve had your fun, we’re heading back home now. Come on.” She vaguely recognises the area they’re in now - the Conventicle is about twenty minutes away at an easy pace, and that should be enough time for her flaring soul to have died down by the time she gets there. “Don’t sulk; you know we still have to finish packing before we leave!“
Echo pulls a face, and expressively shrugs. This time, the shrug may well mean ‘You need to pack’.
Keris snorts in amusement, and heads for home.