Crossing The Worldwalls: Prologue [IC]

[Ellas Aramond]

Prologue: The Meeting on Gallifrey

At first glance, the island that the Shields use for their HQ seems to be normal enough. But to most, there is just something about that comes off as a bit odd. It could the the fact that the small piece of land is more like a mesa rising out of the sea then a standard island. Or it could be the fact that the waters surrounding it are unnaturally blue, as though it was more like liquid sapphire then a normal ocean. Of course, considering the sheer amount of different worlds, normal is a relative thing.

A better look of Gallifrey makes it seem more like a stranded building made of stone rather then a simple island. Where the waters touch the land is a ring of docks encircling the entire island. The docks house ships that share the island's oddness, and are all different from each other in design. But they have one similarity. They all seem to have a miniature lighthouse somewhere on them.

The island's walls have all kinds of things on them. Balconies, windows, unidentifiable contraptions, identifiable contraptions, and doors; all of different sizes, shapes and designs.

The doors and arches level with the docks lead inside the building-like island, into what seems like other worlds, even though it has been explained to you that through the world's magic, you have actually entered into one of the massive amounts caverns in the island, each one replicating a different ecosystem. Although, there are smaller ones that are not like this and used as rooms.

Off in the distance, you can see that the waters are closed off by land circling all the way around. What you've been told is that this is where those that are on Gallifrey, but are not a part of the Shields, make their home. About a few miles away from the shores, a large wall closes off the city. What's beyond the barrier, you have yet to find out. Anyone you may have asked, chuckling and shaking their head; muttering something about "newbies."

Alright folks, here's the breakdown. Your characters have been on the island for at least a month. You've been told to keep away from the docks until now, and have been inducted into the Shields, while being told of the rules and what exactly it is that the Shields do; which you all have most likely picked up from what I said in the recruitment thread.

Now, it is time for your first mission. You have all been instructed to go down to dock #11 and meet with the members of your new team. You'll know you're at the right dock because a woman with long, silver hair will be waiting for you; along with a ship that has of of the odd lighthouses on it, as well as metal that is all gleaming silver.

Considering the sheer size of the interior of Gallifrey, there's a good chance that you have not yet met each other; or a few of you could have bumped into one another; either is fine with me, if you've got any questions, feel free to ask over on the OOC thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=6030063#post6030063).

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

Albrin sits on a stone a bit more inland than he wanted to be this time of day, but not knowing it too soon. He sits and plays his lute with a serene look on his face until he stops and realizes he has somewhere to be... now...
He rushes to his feet, sliding his thin lute into the lining of his coat and beginning to run. "Crapcrapcrap." he mutters to himself breathlessly as he runs.

[AmberVael]

Phoebe

What incredible power of identification the girl had; she was like the eager watcher of a marionette show, anticipating each flicker of an eyelid, each gesture of his hand, each flick of a finger, the moment before it began. How long had they walked together? Three minutes? Five? Yet how large that time seemed now. How immense a figure she was on the stage before him; what a shadow she threw on the wall with her slender body...

Phoebe sighed and smiled, stretched out across her small bed as she read the book over and over again. The intrigue and cleverness of it- the sheer artistry in the pages and words- never ceased to enthrall her. Time seemed to pass by all too swiftly as she was in a world of her own...

Time? Time! Oh no! Phoebe started, scrambling to get to her feet. Hopefully she wasn't going to be late...
So in a hurry is the girl to get to the appropriate place that she forgets to leave her book back in her quarters, and instead brings it with her as she hustles down to dock 11, arriving out of breath.

[Godskook]

A pair of creatures, a regal green half-dragon and dashing human swordsman appear in the distance, flanked by black cat. They notice the young lady, and approach. The human bows, asking

We were summoned here for a mission. Are we the first to arrive?

[Vox Clamantis]

The last few weeks had been the longest and most peaceful of Eolyndra's life. Her sleep wasn't curtailed by the need to change the guard, her waking thoughts weren't filled with problems of tactics and strategy and supplies. She'd never had so much time for herself, and she almost didn't know what to do with it.

Much of her days were spent in mourning, at first, but not even the most loving and dutiful daughter can make every waking thought dwell upon her mother's death. Nor, as she often reminded herself during those early days when the wound was still fresh, would her mother have wanted her to. Nevertheless, whenever she stopped to enjoy a moment's peaceful reflection, she couldn't help but think to herself how much the Queen would have enjoyed such unusual tranquility.

---

Eolyndra showed up at Dock 11 just a few minutes late, and gave it no thought at all. Even among the more disciplined faeries of her home, punctuality was never something they could enforce. Things happened when they needed to happen, or not at all.

The young waif with ornate, green-tinged armor stops at the edge of the dock, halfway down its length, and watches for a minute. She doesn't seem inclined to come any closer to the ship until some happenstance - it's clear she's waiting for something.

[Illiterate Scribe]

'When should we kill this individual?'

A voice perceptible to few pipes up from within the depths of the woman's cloak. Its grating tones resemble a shattered pipe organ.

'Abiasaph, please. I sincerely hope that won't be necessary. It's entirely possible that nothing's the matter, and that we can resolve everything quietly and peaceably. Anyway, you're a homunculus. Homunculi don't make policy decisions. Kindly resecrete yourself within the bag of holding.

Azariah L'Imre, 'the Blind Observer', former astronomer and Shield agent of wildly varying success, was late.

It was a planned lateness - after all, seeing was better than being seen, and striding up with fashionable delay was an excellent way of getting a few looks in at the four fellow Shields she was before this was reciprocated.

So, that would make ... one killoreen - green-armoured, natch - robed celestial of some description - oh, a monk, Azariah had been waiting to meet someone of an ascetic order such as that - human musician of some sort - interesting to find out precisely which flavour of musician - some form of rake with a sword - would be good to have a steadfast hand on this assignment - and an individual who, if she wasn't mistaken, was bore some form of draconic ancestry.

Wait. Five people? Wasn't it fou-

Oh. Illusionist. So, which one was the odd one out ...

She walked up to the group, a slight flick of the eyes betraying recognition of the handler for this excursion.

'Silvera.'

[Ellas Aramond]

At first glance, the woman seems to share some of Gallifrey's oddness. For one, unlike everyone else traversing the docks, she carries no weapon or armor. In fact, she is clad in only a simple, white dress, with a belt around her waist the same color as her hair.

"Welcome back, Blind Observer." Nods to Azariah, a smile on her face. "And greetings to the rest of you, Muse, Dreamer, Commander, and Faerie Queen." She nods to each of you, passing over the dragon with an amused look.

"I'm Silvera; and now that you are all here, we can start. She says as she fishes a few items out of a nigh invisible pocket in her dress. "Very soon, we'll be heading to the world on Yanthin, where your first mission will be. But I shall explain more once we set sail.All I ask now is that you get yourselves situated. There is a room for each of you, of course. But you each need to wear one of these." Opening her hand, she gives each of you a silver ear cuff, emblazoned with the same curved rune that can be seen on the front hull of the ship.

"These are basically your keys to get into the ship. As long as you wear one, you will have full access."

"We will set sail once the five of you are ready. I will see you onboard." With that, she starts to glow and shrink until she becomes a small ball of silver light, then flies into the ship.

[Vox Clamantis]

The cuff sits in Eolyndra's palm, glinting dully. It's an oddity. Jewelry fell out of fashion quickly when the dead started to rise. It's been centuries since the faeries let metal be wasted on anything so frivolous.

With a sigh she fits the bit of silver onto her left ear and heads into the ship, nodding curtly to the others as she shoulders her shield. They seem, like everyone in the organization, to be decent folk. Not terribly well-prepared, by the look of it; but then, word was that most worlds weren't as dangerous as her own.

Time would tell. The higher-ups had to know where she was coming from. If they wanted her on the team then it was a safe bet things would get hairy sooner or later.

[AmberVael]

"We're leaving? Now?"
Phoebe's eyes go wide. She had thought they were only coming to meet the others, not actually go out on a mission. An adventure! But-
"I need to get my books!"

She flees the area, running back away from the docks with no further explanation, going back down the her quarters, where she packs in a bit of a frenzy, putting on the ear cuff as she works more to get it out of the way than anything else. Eventually she has stuffed as many books as she can into a small backpack, and sighs as she notes the ones she will have to leave behind. With a small pout, she dashes off again, attempting to get back to the docks before too much time has passed.

Apparently her fear of leaving without her books spurred her to greater speeds than normal, however, and she arrives back surprisingly quickly, rushing onto the ship, obviously quite out of breath.

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

Panting still from having run all the way here, Albrin can't really get a word into the conversation. At least not until after the woman in white disappears into a ball of light. "What a" pant "shame she had to go so fast," pant "I woulda bought her a drink maybe." He stands up strait, his breathing only slightly more under control now and wipes the sweat from his brown, then swipes his other hand across his hair backwards. "Whew. Only glad I got here in time, at least. Much more used to a place with a working clock or two."

[Illiterate Scribe]

Azariah stands, looking at the panting bard strangely, head cocked to one side.

Why? Clock's give a false sense of security, insofar as synchrony is concerned. Clocks get broken, go wrong, get tampered with by malevolent fey, and better to have no clock than a clock that's telling you the wrong thing. Shouldn't do, but it's true. I heard something once about a 'clock of the long now' being made by someone, that would keep perfect time forever. Shame it got scrapped and melted down into spearheads forty years after it was made, though.

It's not like you're unavoidably late, after all.

She fingers the keycuff absentmindedly. After all these years ...

[Godskook]

Heh, said the swordsman, as the earpiece fell to the ground, I think she did that on purpose. With that, he vanished.

Muse, was it? said the half-dragon, finally speaking. As he reached down for the earpiece, he continued I'm Allen. I'd love to join you for that drink. Let's see if this ship is stocked with anything useful, or if they only bothered with essentials. And, as he turned to leave, Come, DeMarco.

Fitting, I smirked. I had come here with nothing but what I was wearing, and now I was leaving for the first time, and it was the same, yet different. Before now, magic had only been a source of amusement to me. Now, I'll be using it in combat - I'm not sure how I should feel about that.... The dragons wouldn't like it, I'm pretty sure. Not that wizards of Thermia were in the habit of listening to dragons....

[Ellas Aramond]

As the five of you walk up the gangplank and onto the deck, nothing seems to change, besides the bits of silver continuing their gleam. There is only one door leading below deck. When you enter, this is when things turn a bit strange.

You find it as though you've entered Gallifrey again. The room is much bigger then the entirety of the ship, and many closed doors lead to rooms beyond. The room is richly decorated, with many pieces of furniture. At the center, is a sloped, pentagonal console, covered with many different colored gems. In the center of it, a fat tube rises out of it into the ceiling, filled with what appears to be a blueish-white fog.

"Yes, it's bigger on the inside" Silvera says, appearing behind you. "Your rooms are through those doors. Take as long as you need, then meet back in here so we can fully discuss your mission."

[AmberVael]

Curiously, Phoebe enters one of the rooms further in the back and sets down her newly collect backpack of books before beginning to investigate her room. After that, she'll come back out and look around for the others, lingering rather shyly at the edges of the rooms.

[Vox Clamantis]

The slim faerie in plate armor takes no more than a cursory glance around her quarters as she drops off her pack and shield and steps back into the main room. Once there, she can't stop herself from examining every jewel and tube of the strange device in silent curiosity.

After having satisfied whatever compulsive interest the device commanded from her, she turns her attention to the rest of the room and, finally, her companions. Her scrutiny of them is far more circumspect, conducted from a corner of the main room that she appears to have claimed as her own.

[Godskook]

Silvera, I grow to accommodate any space.

I walk towards center console and begin inspecting it, but stop with a start. Demarco, pick us a room. I'm sure they're all equally suitable. I turn my attention back on the console, attempting to determine its functions and purposes.

[Ellas Aramond]

"As long as you don't grow too much. I've heard stories of dragons assuming their true forms inside of worldships; and utterly destorying them." Silvera says, gliding more then walking to Allen. "And I wouldn't play with that yet, if I were you. That's the manual control for the ship."

Before she can say anymore, the sound of a foghorn reverberates through the room. "It looks like it is time for us to be heading off. If you all want to step out on the deck, you will see a very interesting sight."


Anyone who walks out notices that the foghorn is quickly getting louder. After it goes off a few more times, the blue sky up above fades quickly into black, allowing thousands of stars to shine through. The actual ship sails out of the docks, and when it is about to go into the fog, a blue light begins to pulsate from the top of the ship's lighthouse; accompanied by what sounds like keys being scraped up and down a piano's bass strings. The ship sails into the fog, and you can tell there is nothing more to be seen.

"Now that we are on our way, I can brief you on your first mission." Silvera says once everyone has once again made themselves comfortable in the main room. "The world we are heading to is known as Yanthin, ruled by the proud skarn. They run a militaristic society, where anyone not skarn is seen as a lesser being. There's also another race known as the rilkans. Legend says that both rilkans and skarns are descendants of a now extinct race called mishtai. The skarn aren't fond of the idea, of the rilkans are heavily persecuted."

"The magic of the world is based heavily on the energy of incarnum, drawn from the souls of the dead and those yet to be born. They rely on it so much, in fact, that the gods have no hold hold in the world. Divine magic still exists, but none can tell much of a difference between it and arcane."


Every 500 years, on a day known as the Azure Dawn, the world re-aligns itself, passing the gift of incarnum to any new race that has yet to be able to use the power. On this day, the Skarn Emperor enacts a ritual that keeps his race in control of incarnum, effectively keeping any of the other races from being able to use magic. The Shields have heard rumors that someone from offworld wishes to disrupt this ritual. What he plans to do after that, we don't know, but this is where you come in."

"Your mission is to find this being and stop him from enacting his plan."

[Vox Clamantis]

Eolyndra toys with the silver ear clasp, leaning against the interior wall of the main chamber.

My first question would have to be: what does the ritual entail?

[Illiterate Scribe]

Having an underclass of racially-too-close-and-yet-too-far Rilkan, I have a rather worrying suspicion that, no matter what the truth is, we're going to see the Rilkan having a rather ugly time of it. Do we have a source for these rumours, that you can tell us of? Are these rumours widely known on Yanthin?

[AmberVael]

Phoebe bites her lip as she listens. To her, it sounds like the ritual should be disrupted. Maybe she was just missing something? Or did the Shields protect against all interference, whether it was well intentioned or not?
"Um, would it really be such a bad thing if the ritual were disrupted? I mean... I can understand wanting to protect against people misusing power, but- this sounds like the Skarn are misusing power."

[Illiterate Scribe]

Ms. Gossamer, what you say has more than a little truth, but remember that whoever this is, they are an off-worlder: even if their intentions are good, it would still be important to find out precisely who is getting involved who isn't us, since such actions set a dangerous precedent, and say what you will about the Shields, the organisation remains the arguably the lone organisation that's really demonstrated its ability to maintain stability - we could, uh, do a lot worse.

Deep breath. Long sentence.

[Krimm_Blackleaf]

Albrin looks at Azariah a bit strangely until she finishes speaking, when he laughs a little as he talks, "I-hah- guess you're right! Clocks can't really be trusted because they are inventions of man, and man is all too fallible. I'll keep my eyes to the sun next time." He says with a smile.

The Muse walked in with the very obvious look of awe on his face. "Now... I've lived at the bottom of a great wizard's tower before... but this is something new entirely..." He walks over to his quarters and poking his head out of his door and looking around, "Anyone wanna join me for a drink? My door's wide open." And of course, he leaves his quarters doors literally wide open.

When he hears of the plan, he can't help but stare silently at Silvara as she explains the next world to them, confounded by some of the new words. "Incarnum? I'd never heard of that being real... only thought it was rumored. Well, at least at home it was."

[Godskook]

I'm with the Dreamer. I'd rather stop the ritual altogether than aid a tyrant. Besides, it might prove to be the easier task. Rituals are far easier to disrupt than to take over, which means our outsider has already infiltrated the Skarn - one way or another. Even trustworthy Skarn could not trusted lest the outsider's spies become aware of us. The Rilkans would not have such unity, proving to be the safer ally. Politics. I hate politics. Is this the life I'll be leading, aiding one leader against another? This mission reeks of scandal...hm. Where does our information come from, and does anyone know we're coming? If we isolated this outsider before hand, we could keep our hands free of the local politics, but I doubt that is possible if our presence is already known.

[Ellas Aramond]

"We don't know much about the ritual itself, but we do know that it entails opening a portal to the Positive Energy Plane, to a location known as the Bastion of Souls; where incarnum is said to have originated. What he does once he's there, though, we've never been able to find out. The Skarn guard their secrets carefully."

"The Shields have a few contacts that live in Yanthin. They are the ones that originally alerted us of this. But even they admit that, considering the importance of this event, it could all be pure speculation; started by someone to make the Skarn paranoid."

"What the Shields are worried about is not the Skarn losing their advantage over the world, but what an outsider would be planning to do with this. Worst case scenario, he seals off incarnum from the world, causing a dark age where magic doesn't exist on the world at all. If something like that went on long enough, it could easily to the death of Yanthin."

"And word of these rumors actually came from A Skarn noble named Alekk Tharn; a retired Shield who's been generally trustworthy over the years."

[Godskook]

Great. We're working with them. Well, better not burn the bridge if I'm going to be standing on it.

I assume Alex is our contact then? Sounds like stopping the ritual needs to be our 'backup' plan then. It'll be easier to keep the cooperation of these Skarn allies if stopping their ritual is more of a last resort, rather than a first approach.

Oh, and I'll need some pictures of what these Skarn look like. Something tells me that we'll attract less attention if we look like them.

[Vox Clamantis]

Folding her arms, the youthful woman looks off into the air, staring at nothing.

Sounds like we'll have to do most of our planning on the ground. The first thing we need is more information, and that means making contact.

[Godskook]

My eyes grow wide, as the Skarn images flow through my head. Looking around the room, I can tell I'm not the only one to share this new sensation.

Woah. Thats....that is something else. Mental illusions. Exhillirating. Wow. Okay, now do Rilkans!

[Ellas Aramond]

Silvera lets out a small chuckle, and the images of Skarn quickly get replaced (http://wizards.com/dnd/images/moi_gallery/91043.jpg).

[AmberVael]

"Ooooh... pretty. That's really nifty. And it doesn't like it'll be too hard to blend in..."
Phoebe smiles, sitting down as she focuses on the mental images.

[Godskook]

I stare wide-eyed at Silvera, amazed at this device. In a silly and covert voice I say I'm going to need an introduction to the Illusionist who made this.

The amusement slowly fades from my face as I get back to topic. What are our assets, aside from ourselves? Can these Skarn locals be relied on for help or information?

[Vox Clamantis]

Before the question can be answered, the young princess turns her eyes back to the conversation and inserts:

Relied upon? Certainly not. There's a war brewing on that world. Trust either side to your own peril.

[Godskook]

I'm an Illusionist. I trust almost no one. I snap, not realizing my rage. Reliability, on the other hand, is a matter of observing proven patterns. At that point, DeMarco jumps into my lap. Meow........mew? You're right, DeMarco. I need to keep calm.

Eolyndra, I'm sure Silvera knows our contacts well enough. Turning to Silvera, I add I'm sure the we'll be well informed as to where their loyalties lie.

[Vox Clamantis]

She shakes her head, long hair undulating like a living thing but never actually coming disarrayed.

Don't dismiss the point before you understand it. Threats to the species aren't usual circumstances. Survival instinct takes over. Usual habits die off. She appears to hesitate for a split second, then shrug it off. You'd have no reason to know, but my people used to be forest sprites, careless and stupid. Threat to the species comes along, suddenly we're the last living people left in the world. The LAST. A bunch of stupid faeries.

Situations like this are when a people will surprise you. Don't go trying to predict how, just know that they will.

[Godskook]

We are in far greater agreement than you may realize, Eolyndra. However, everyone follows a pattern. As a student of people and their behaviors, I've watched as people have done the unexpected, and their behavior is limited by their previous patterns. We know the Skarn will fight to defend themselves, yet there is more to learn about our potential allies. Are there Skarn sympathetic to the Rilkans? Are these retired Shield agents believed to be loyal enough to the organization such that we can seek aid from them? We'll play our hand close to our vest, but we need to know who else is at the table, and for what stakes they're playing.

[Ellas Aramond]

Unfortunately, our only substantial contact is Tharn, or as he used to be known in the Shields, "The Azure Guard." You have to remember, though, the Skarn are as diverse as any other race. They all have their own views. As for Tharn, he expects that you will come in contact with him when you see fit. But as to how much aid he is willing or able to give, you will have to ask him.

[Vox Clamantis]

Pushing herself away from the wall against which she'd been leaning, Eolyndra nods and folds her arms.

Is that it, then? How long will it take us to get there?