Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 17 HP: 36/41 (36/43) THP: 0/5
PP: 12 PIv: 13 PIs: 9
Conditions: Mal's Aid, Nome's Hero's Feast (immune to poison/frightened, Wis ST adv)
Concentration:

The Cells

"I don't know," Set admits quietly in response to Selissa's question. "I don't think they share my curse, but I don't know anymore. I bound myself to the Shadowkeeper thinking it would keep them safe from Him, but for what? So they could end up under John Bence's axe, instead? So they could be grated and ground into Dust?" Set tries to take a deep, calming breath, but it's interrupted by a hiccup.

"This man was searching for them, but until the madness fades there'll be no knowing how close he came to finding them or if they're here." Set chews the inside of his cheek, hiccuping again and shaking his head as he looks at the man giggling and sobbing in his madness. "If the madness fades."

Just before the others file into the cells, Set listens intently as Selissa regards the madman, relating the risks of bringing him.

"Your tribe. Your choice."

My choice, Set thinks. The others discuss Mal and Vargath's findings, but the words float around him without ever really pulling his attention away from the madman standing nearby. My choice.

Set's fingers graze the coin in his pouch before he realizes he's reaching for it. He'd "chosen" to keep his sisters safe at the cost of his soul. He'd "chosen" to kill Sirus rather than be killed. Now he could choose his own safety, or this man's. He could choose the Three people keeping him safe down here, or he could choose his sister's safety, maybe, if this man knows anything of worth that can be salvaged to their benefit. One thing is certain, in Set's mind. He can't have everything. They would all be safer without this liability, but this man would not be safe without them. Not down here.

"The madman is relatively safer in his cell until we move to leave...What say you, Abydosian? Do you wish to bear your kinsman along while we hunt eaters of the dead?"

"There's no safety," Set spits, the words coming out short and harsher than he'd meant them to as he squeezes the cold metal in his palm. "Not for him or anyone else. Not down here. Not in the North. Not anywhere."

Releasing the coin back into his pouch, Set takes a stride towards the other Abydosian and issues him a sharp slap across the face. Leaning forward, Set grabs his head roughly in both hands, forcing the other man to look at him.

"<Listen to me. Listen,>" Set says, freshly determined. "<I am Set Al-Sayyid, son of Geb, member of the First Family. You know this. If you do not pull yourself together, I will leave you in this stinking pit to rot. As the Shadowkeeper is my witness, you will find the Field of Reeds closed to you. You will wander this place and the afterlife with no people, and no home. Your fathers will know your shame when the Field is barred to you. Your sons will search this life and the next, but they'll never find you. Pull yourself together, or your shame will echo for an eternity.>"

Straightening, Set grasps the other man's hands and forces him to take hold of his spear for the moment, hoping the familiar weapon will shake something loose. At the same time Set pulls off his shemagh, wrapping the face-covering firmly in place on the other man to help muffle his voice. Finally, Set looks up to the others almost apologetically, but he's almost all out of words.

"Sorry. He might know something about where my sisters are." Set looks between them a moment longer, waiting for objections before ushering the madman towards Maus, eager to forget their differences if the medicine-man could help.