Southern Comfort IC

[stanleyindraven]

"So, 'flaming horse-botherer'," Horbin snickers. "Can you discern anything about the obviously magical ball?"

[mattie_p]

"Horbin," Grath shouts, "Great job with that other skelemonster thing. Nothing like feeling the bones smash beneath your weapon, yeah?"

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi glares at Grath, looking to the skroll she had just dispatched, then to herself, then back to the skroll. "What am I, chopped liver?"

[Marlowe]

"Large and plodding?" blinks the tall, slender, DEX 16 Bethlen. "Messed up? OK, fair enough. This place has been frelling with my head since we got in. But I'm asking for details here. If you want to exchange personal insults I'm sure I can schedule you in after the next time the Local Genius reaches into me, uses me as a meatpuppet, and leaves me unable to walk. What the frell just happened? Because my Recaller's glowing like Lotus the day after the Fleet put into port".

She gives the amulet a tug, and shoves it unceremoniously down her cleavage. "Astra was right, sometimes you are nothing but trouble," she mutters.

[u-b]

Gregor gets everyone and everything (including dogs, poles, ...) into the sphere and otherwise looks around and does nothing in particular.

[mattie_p]

"Little Delphi not chopped liver or chopped anything. Grath just congratulate Horbin for smashing skeleton in close combat. Prefer close combat when possible. Nothing wrong with stones and arrows and lightning bolts for smashing, just think it more fun Grath's way."

Grath sits down for a minute, and weighs whether to drink one of his healing potions or to ask Thorwald to heal him.

[Marlowe]

((Excuse brevity. Connection not good.

600 EXP for Gregor and Horbin (450 for the combat, 150 bonus for things like figuring out the trick with the poles, actually checking with the pole, and sticking your head into something potential lethal when there was not really any other way of doing it)

550 EXP for everyone else. Being 450 for combat plus 100 bonus each for not going insane so far))

[Linguz]

Before being forced into the ball by Gregor, Dardiana tried to remember anything that might help about the ball and asked her fey about it. She also looked to Bethlen and asked her, "Think I should try my mage sight, see if I can figure anything out through that? Or do you think it'd just blind me?"

Arcana: [roll0]
Religion: [roll1]
Everything Else: [roll2]

If she got a confirmation, she activated it and tried to figure out what schools of magic the ball had.

Spellcraft: Taking 10, 18.

Then she got into the ball if she uncovered nothing dangerous and it's possible.

[AshesOfOld]

"Well, that was unfullfilling." Thorwald says, kicking one of the bones of the skeletrolls.

"I guess I could heal your wounds or whatever."

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi sighs, looking around the giant orb-room with frustration. "I have a question, guys, if we can stop plunging to our dooms for a moment or two. I don't usually like this much introspection, but living is a lot of fun, so I decided to give it a try.

What is the point of this place? What is it for? It had to be expensive to make, and I mean the out-put of an entire nation for centuries kind of expensive. Who has the money, or time, to build something like this without meaning? And the undead guards mean that this place could have been around for... well, since before history. For a very, very, very long time. And I just had someone in my head, guys, and I'm still not really sure who she or it was. I really, really don't like that.

So I guess my question is, what is down here that's going to make this worthwhile?"

I will be completely honest here: as a player, I've become a bit lost. This is my most chaotic game by a very wide margin, and I'm just not used to juggling NPC's, places, and actions like this.

[stanleyindraven]

"Yes Thorwald, I could use some healing for once. And Delphi, really? We came here to stop the Anjews from raising a competent army against our nation or any other, or at least find out his endgame and who he works for. Plus we know this place was something left over from the great time of the empire," Horbin says while sauntering over to Thorwald with a smirk.

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi frowns, looking around the gravitationally-unique room. "But have we found any evidence of an army here? It seems like this place is deadly to the extreme; not exactly the best place to raise an army, even an army of undead."

[AshesOfOld]

"Worthwhile?"
Thorwald touches Horbin's chest, letting a small light simmer through his armor, working slowly through his body.
"You said it yourself, it had to be expensive to make. So I'll bet my grandfather's bones there's treasure down here. And lots of it. Power, too. In abundance."

Thorwald casts lesser vigor, 1 hp for 11 rounds.

[u-b]

Gregor zaps one charge from his wand at Grath, healing [roll0], puts it back in the pocket and continues to do nothing in particular.

[mattie_p]

Grath nods at Gregor and says, "Thank you, Gregor. Grath was not severely injured by the skeleton monsters, but the claws did hurt. Grath will try to remember to stay clear next time, if possible."

Grath looks around, trying to scan for any threats.spot:[roll0]
listen: [roll1]

[stanleyindraven]

"Thus far we know of undead that lay dormant here, we know of the Anjowls being unwelcomed, and to stay away from the green. If I am also correct, we have found a modicum of magical arrows and such, thus far, we are richer in knowledge and wealth. Soon, we will have our answers and can go back to the original reasons we had for leaving home," Horbin says to the group, looking at Delphi last. "Thank you flame bearer."

[mattie_p]

"Grath didn't think all came here for knowledge and wealth. Well, maybe wealth. But instead to kill 'genuflect.' Or whatever name is."

No need to leave now, just kill target and get rewards."

[AshesOfOld]

"Getting back to the 'ball', I'm guessing it's arcane and not divine in nature, but I'll take a look."

Thorwald examines the ball, trying to find a clue as to its nature.
Search: (take 20?) : 20.
If not [roll0]
If he finds something that's divine: knowledge religion: [roll1]
If he finds magical scripture, he'll cast 'read magic'.


"Oh, and one more thing. If any of you refer to me as horse-botherer or anything similar again, I'll make it part of my personal agenda to murder you slowly at a given time." Thorwald says almost casually as he examines the ball, and finishes. "And Horbin... your welcome."

[stanleyindraven]

"Oh come now fire priest, you don't have the sense of humor your diety does," Horbin jests.

[Marlowe]

((Sorry guys and girls, upset stomach and listening to Magia (http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/O2BLxfecPNI/) to cheer myself up.))

Bethlen throws Dardiana a look."Magesight doesn't work like physical vision. It can't damage your eyes anymore than using your ears can. BUT it's unlikely you'll get much information beyond a headache."

If Dardiana decides to use it:The central globe is like looking into a star, but radiating from it are an odd pattern of slightly different auras in the air, like the layers of an onion, or circular ripples in water.

The leather-clad "clothing merchant" turns toward Delphi. "The skeletrolls would NOT have been left here by the former owners, pretty-pretty. I won't say we don't use skeletons. But we use them as retainers, manual labour, bodyguards sometimes, and we don't leave them lying around with orders to kill on sight.

"It would be pointless anyway. If the ADAs were not confined to the green, they would have annihilated the skeles, with clean sonic effects since ADAs don't give a frell about torturing something that can't feel.

"Those skeles were made by someone quite recently. They are probably people and things that wandered in here over the centuries and were killed by the ADAs, their corpses stored here over centuries in some level we haven't found.

"As for what this place is for, I'm not party to the rational behind command decisions taken by my ancestors four thousand years ago during a war against an aggressive homogenising Cosmic horror. My information is that it was built as a stronghold against the Abberancy, and after the latter was defeated became a private residence, possibly by one of the Captains, probably Madame Citykiller, since my Recaller is screaming that her presence is all over you right now."

While she talking, those who are looking around notice that the central sphere is missing a segment on it's "northern" side, the side opposite the one you entered. Those looking further will find there is a 15x15 corridor leading into the middle of the sphere, the torches are yellow.

It appears to go 60" in and turn a corner.

Which is interesting as the sphere is only 30" across.

[AshesOfOld]

"Oh, I don't know. I find it absolutely hilarious when people catch on fire and burn alive, yet I'm not amused by animal sex jokes or petty bullying. I guess we're all just different."

Thorwald keeps close to the sphere, hiding his face.

"I think this might be a portal of some kind."

[Marlowe]

((I'm going to say one thing. You are all standing on the internal wall of the sphere, 120" from the central globe. Which is hovering in space with apparently no means of support.))

Gretchen, who's been walking around; mutters, "This place isn't Imperial. Not even Union. This place is Administrate. That right; Merchant?" She gives Bethlen a hard look.

Bethlen looks at her blandly. "Technically, pre-Administrate. This is Abberancy War vintage. Our policity was only established after the Sage's war. But that's ancient history".

She picks up one of the poles that Gregor has been hauling, and mutters; "I missed it, being indisposed at the time, but I've heard about rooms like this before" She slams the pole down upon the nearest purple tile.

It bounces free from her hand into the air, accelerates toward the central globe, slows down, speeds up again in its odd trajectory, slows down again, and lands upon the central globe with a faint and gentle clang.

Bethlen smiles, and puts her hands to her hips. "Anyone still confused?"

[mattie_p]

"Grath is still confused, but dealing with it."

Grath decides to take matters into his own hands and jumps for it. He springs into the air and lands on the same purple tile Bethlen had poked.

Not sure what check... jump? Tumble? Let's try both.

Jump: [roll0]
Tumble: [roll1]

[Marlowe]

Landing on the purple tile sends Grath springing into the air much higher than he should. About nine feet up gravity seems to reverse and he finds himself falling toward the central globe.

It switches around several times, leaving Grath looking a little queasy, but by constantly accellerating and slowing him leaves him landing on his feet on the central globe with no more force than if he'd taken a long-jump.

[u-b]

"Wooo... will it work the same way to get back here or will we use some other way? Try throwing something with the same speed you jump?"

[mattie_p]

"Grath try to get back and see what happens."

He steps back on the sphere to get some space, then takes a running start, jumping from about the same place he landed into the air.

[roll0]

If necessary, take 10 on second leap for a 21

If really necessary, keep trying until he takes 20 for a 31

[Marlowe]

Jumping from the same spot on the globe just gets him falling back onto it...except that he lands on a purple tile. Which does send him bouncing high enough for the gravitational change to take hold and sends him falling back toward the inner surface of the sphere. After some odd changes in velocity, he lands not too drastically about thirty feet from Gregor.

((Did I not make it plain the inner globe had the purple tiles too? Sorry))

[stanleyindraven]

"Well aside from maybe being fun, I don't see much reason for staying here," Horbin says as he looks around.

[mattie_p]

"Grath thinks all need to jump onto orb and go inside now. All done outside."

And with that he jumps back onto the purple tile, somehow averting the urge to bounce back and forth indefinitely.

[u-b]

Gregor "persuades" the dogs to do the jumping (or persuades Horbin to "persuade" the dogs), then follows.

[Marlowe]

The dogs require very little persuading, although some firm words are required to stop Cherry from bouncing back and forth all night. Grath, Gregor, and Bethlen, the latter looking a little cheerful, make easy landings on the central sphere.

"I make this a dual-purpose training area for three dimensional tactics for people who don't have flight yet, and a general-purpose nuisance. Anyway" She looks "up" at the others. "Coming, then? Or are we going on by ourselves?"

[Linguz]

Dardiana approaches the nearest purple tile and steps on it cautiously. She mutters to herself, "I don't really trust gravity-changing effects..."

[Marlowe]

"Oh? that's nice. I suppose the Orc, the Wolfrider, the pups, and me will just have to wait for you to build up your faith in applied smartassomancy while the Orc, the Wolfrider, the dogs and me have a little tea party up here. Or down here. Or whatever. Coming, Legs?"

Stepping on the tile cautiously causes Dardiana's leading foot to spring into the air with noticable force, almost dislocating her hip and throwing her onto her back.

((If just stepping could do it then the skrolls would have been bouncing between the surface and the central globe pretty much at random, which would have been really really really quite slightly annoying.))

[Linguz]

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Dardiana jumped onto the tile.

[Marlowe]

A sudden spring upward and a few vertigo-inducing changes in the sense of downward-ness that seem to strangely enough correspond with the ripples in the magic aura Dardiana noticed earlier, she makes a gentle landing on the central globe.

A couple of gentle thumps indicate that Gretchen and Nuisance have managed the same, Gretchen is carrying three of the metallic 10-foot poles.

Dardiana
The fey whispers in your head "I'm beginning to think the people who built this place had a strange sense of humour"

Delphi
The voice is back in your head. ""Going with them? Be brave, it's forward now, or into the green. The way you came in now leads elsewhere. I could do something about that, but I shouldn't. I'm only allowed to be doing this much because your Cleric, without apparently knowing, is carrying something into my house he really shouldn't".. The voice has a hard edge now.

Bethlen, picking up the pole she sent up (down) here earlier, looks up at Delphi with set eyes and jaw.

Thorwald
A voice that crackles; "Yes, it's a portal. And not to scare you, but it will not be the first you've gone through this evening. Some of those downwardness-changes are done in a very, very simple way indeed. ALso, I don't think I can be here much longer. Wherever here is. SOME ONE has noticed me".

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin will grab any remaining poles and then launch himself to the central sphere.

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi holds up her hand, looking to the cleric of Loki with some concern. "Wait, the voice is back. She said that the way back does not lead out anymore; it's forward or into the green.

She also said that our cleric is carrying something into her house that he shouldn't, and that he isn't aware of that fact. And that she's only allowed to do so much... there's something that has to grant her permission, it seems."

Delphi runs to the nearest purple square, leaping onto it gracefully, making her way to the middle. "I really don't like voices in my head, but at least this one is informative."

[AshesOfOld]

"Something I am carrying?" Thorwald looks back at Delphi, brain buzzing.
"I don't have anything magical on me, as far as I'm aware... Dardiana, perhaps your magesight could spot something out of the ordinary on my person?"

Thorwald jumps after Delphi with little hesitation.

[Linguz]

"I doubt you accidentally grabbed a magic item, but sure." She activates the sight and looks at Thorwalt. If she finds anything, she tells him. Either way, she also comments, "Could it be your holy symbol? And the thing be that you're not aware that it shouldn't be in here? Just a comment, probably wrong."

"Oh, and Delphi: Welcome to my world. Except I'm fine with the voice in my head."

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi frowns, looking at her hands. "I'm fine with the voice; it's been perfectly polite, non-distracting, and I'm ninety-three percent sure that it's a magic-user doing it, and that I'm not crazy. That said, if they can put a voice in my head, what else can they make me do?" You don't need to see her face to tell that she's afraid.

Delphi's a pretty-damn unmagical person. She has no idea what they can or cannot do. If I were in her shoes, and without my OOC knowledge, I'd be afraid too.

[stanleyindraven]

"It could also be a god, seems to be going around," Horbin spouts off at Delphi.

[mattie_p]

"As long as the gods are not contagious, doesn't bother Grath much. All should have the right to hear their own god in their own head. When people start hearing strange gods in their head, that is problem."

Grath shakes his head. "Should all go into this orb, or should play bouce the orc some more?"

[Marlowe]

((Yay! Home internet at last!))

There are too many of the poles for Horbin to carry with any degree of grace, but he manages to get across with eight.

Dardiana's attempt to use detect magic on ThorwaldReveals nothing more than that using it in here gives her a splitting headache.

The corridor into the middle of the globe, on closer examination, looks identical to the ones you've been moving through so-far. It appears to run 60 feet and then turn a corner to the left. Which would be extremely ordinary except for the fact that there shouldn't be enough globe to allow this.

Bethlen is already sticking her pole into it. "Downwardness appears to be in my direction" she mutters, "I don't see anything funny happening with the torches. We really need to rest soon."

"Also, is anyone going to ask how she-hobbit acquired her new ring?"

[stanleyindraven]

"She has a new ring," Horbin looks up as he drops a pole.

[Marlowe]

"My Recaller is singing and buzzing" Bethlen touches her chest. "And what it is telling me is that the aura of The Empress of Midnight is all around the she-hobbit right now."

She raises the pole and gives Delphi and appraising look. "This is an interesting development. You're not a citizen, not even a spellcaster. Well." She laughs. It's her creepy laugh that goes on just a little too long and cuts off too quickly. "You're Kissed by Midnight, Delphi. This will raise some eyebrows somewhere."

[Linguz]

"No magic aura on you Thor," says Dardiana while grabbing her head. She turned to look at Delphi and told her, "You know, usually one wears a ring under gloves."

She got them dex gloves that should be on after the ring's on, no? Well, not at the moment, since she put it on midfight.

[mattie_p]

Before moving forward into the hall, Grath will bounce back and forth to retrieve the rest of the poles as necessary and move them on, staying out of the discussion for the time being.

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi holds up the ring for everyone to see before taking it and her glove off, putting the ring on again, and then covering it with the glove. "I don't really know what it does, but the voice, who I suppose I should call the Empress of Midnight, told me that it would help me against undead and the like."

Delphi shrugs a bit, holding up her sling. "I don't know if I've told you much about what I do to hurt things; while it isn't nearly as interesting as your magic, it's still neat. There's a culture around throwing stones and using slings with us halflings; I've never been sure why, exactly, but we're all rather good at it, so it may have something to do with that. Anyway, there's a certain way to throw a stone or use a sling that allows you to be way more accurate; to hit someone's head instead of their chest.

It requires movement to work right, however; you use the momentum to help you throw just right, though the extra hurt doesn't actually come from your movement. The problem that a lot of us face is that things like undead or plants or whatever don't really care if you hit them in the face or chest or family jewels; they just keep plodding along. This ring, as far as I can tell, rectifies that. Which is awesome."

[AshesOfOld]

"I guess that would have been too easy." Thorwald replies to Dardiana, before turning to Delphi.

"That sure is a nifty ability. Did she tell you why she gave it to you?
By the way, I could venture a guess as to why our gods are having a field day inside our heads. I have a theory that the gods live by strict rules, that prevent them from roaming around the material plane. Something like a trade embargo, only covering all sides. So when one god decides to stick his head in where he shouldn't - it permits the other gods to do the same.
But as I said, it's just a theory. But maybe the fire lord's presence is what enables your Lady of Midnight to pass any barriers that exist in here."

[Marlowe]

Thorwald (oh, and Delphi can see this too, but it's written for Thorwald):
"That's a bingo", says something in your head, closely followed by a crackling "Oh Shi-".

The person that abruptly appears right in front of you is a medium-height human woman, with black hair marked by a streak of white at her left temple. She wears a high-shoulder black coat over a dark blue tunic, black gloves and leggings, and a grim, set expression.

Three pairs of angular black wings, more like the blades of knives than anything organic, are unfolding from her back even as she appears. In them you think you can see stars, but that's not really first thing on your mind right now.

"Get out of him, and get out of here." she says, and thrusts a hand right into your chest. It goes right through you, feeling like a shaft of ice, and then she whips her her arm through your head. You're conscious of a pressure you hadn't even registered getting ripped away, and a faint, crackling cry.

She withdraws her hand. A tiny flame burns in the palm. She folds her hand into a fist around it. Then she looks at you. Her eyes are unblinking and a very bright blue. "Also, I needed to wait until you had openly declared his presence. Now, "obscure and very evil", was it?"

((ironic that the smartest thing Thorwald's said in many pages is what gets him into this))

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi swears. Loudly.

[Linguz]

Dardiana looks to Delphi, an act she didn't mind one bit. "What was that about?"

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi doesn't look away from the empty air next to Thorwald, her eyes wide and nearly frantic. "Don't move. No one move."

[Marlowe]

Delphi and Thorwald
The eyes flick briefly from Thorwald to Delphi, and the figure gives the briefest of nods

And then you can all see the black-coated, blue-tunicked woman standing in the air directly in front of Thorwald. Her hair is black with a white streak at the left temple. Her six wings extend in jackknife angles from one side of the room to the other like blade-shaped holes in reality, in them is the black of night and the distant glitter of stars.

The expression on her face as she looks at Thorwald is a little concerning.

""I was hoping for more of a fight, she says. ""He's too much like The Warped Sage to make me not want to fight him. But he's too spread out. His power's stretched across many worlds. And on this world and especially in this place he can no more stand before me than a campfire can stop an avalanche."

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald falls to his knees but his eyes do not waver from hers. His hands, however, are trembling with barely contained anger and fear.
"How would I know, empress? I am merely a servant."

He tries to rise, still a little woozy.
"So what now, are we to be punished for entering your lair?" His eyes glint for a moment, "Or could it be that we are here because you yourself are in a spot?"

[Marlowe]

The figure puts her head back a little, smiles, then stretches out a hand toward Thorwald, palm up. "I don't mess people up for a misunderstanding. You could afford to show some tact in another's house. And you could show a bit more respect in the way you refer to your patron's daughter. Not her fault she has the worst job in Asgard."

She looks around the group. Bethlen, worryingly, is standing to attention. "In the old days I'd have dealt with this myself. But that's not the sort of world we want. It's those that exist that have to fix it, not us, not those people on Asgard, not the rest. We do not exist. Existance requires the possibility of ending. I am undying, so I cannot live. I am invincible, so I can never win. I miss mortality, with all of it's terror and uncertainty. I existed back then.

"I would like to save this place, though I don't need it, and see what my wayward lieutenant has planned. I Could scour it. I won't. Such behaviour from me would cause problems. Set a bad example. It's up to you, since you are what's available."

[stanleyindraven]

"Pardon me for butting in, but, is there a map? This place is somewhat of a maze and though I think we are getting along nicely, we are getting tired and prefer to not rest in such a place," Horbin speaks up. Finally seeing a 'god' in the 'flesh' does not seem to effect him as much as it does Thorwald. "The horse whisperer should stand again," he says as he looks down.

[Marlowe]

The figure turns to face Horbin. The knifelike wings refold into a triple "M" formation over her head. Annoyingly, there's no sound from them. "A map might not be incredibly useful" she says, looking a bit thoughtful. She hasn't blinked once yet. "Given it would have to be 4-dimensional. This place changes. Then there's the little issue that you're currently not even on your home plane. Any map I could provide would be unreadable to you. In any case, someone got it right before. This isn't a maze, it's a Labyrinth. One way in.

"I could move you out of the Twisted Levels and put you somewhere closer to the interloper, yet sheltered from him. He doesn't dare stray out here, you understand. He stays deep in, where it's safe and normal, and uses borrowed cunning to get in and out.

"Would you prefer that? It would involve bypassing the Maculators, the Staircase, and the Cavern."

Apparently remembering something, her outstretched arm snakes out longer than it should, grabs Thorwald's hand, and pulls him to his feet.

[mattie_p]

"Grath sees a natural progression in following the path, such as it is. Plus, meaning no disrespect, Midnight Empress Lady, but prefer walking to yet more unknown magic."

[Marlowe]

The figure nods to the Orc. "An understandable opinion. The Maculators are deprived of power of movement anyway, since they depend upon the Local Genius, who has been crippled. Were that not the case, they'd have dealt with the interloper very swiftly."

She looks a little wistful.

"And I'd do something about that, only it would be cheating"

[AshesOfOld]

"You're the... ah. Oh..." Thorwald goes from confused to scared to slightly sheepish in a second.
"I, ahah... am, mmh... ss... m'sorry, empress." he says with great effort.
When she pulls him to his feet he flushes a deep red.

"Why the hostility towards your father? Do you follow the Skyfather? Would be an odd choice considering where he left you."

[Marlowe]

She looks at you. Just looks.

"My father is long dead, Cleric. I loved him. I had to kill him. He'd been taken by the Abberancy. Along with the rest of my own city. And I did what I had to do. There's a reason they call me Citykiller. That wasn't the first or the last."

"But I have this idea that you may have mistaken me for someone else. Tell me, do I look half dead? I know who you mean. She's about due for her bi-monthly panic attack right about now"."

[u-b]

"My respect, Madam."

Then Gregor rides a bit ahed and continues to be uninvolved in this "gods all around us" business.

[Marlowe]

Bethlen, who'se been standing very straight with very wide eyes since the figure became manifest, gives Thorwald a very shocked look. Then takes a single step forward. "Exalted Captain."

"Cadet."

"You speak of your "wayward lieutenant". Is that who's behind this?"

"She is. I don't approve of her methods, her choice in tools, her tool's choice in tools, or her choice of location" She figures's head moves looks around the chamber. "But not approving is not the same as justifying personal intervention. That's one thing that doesn't change. So, I can move you on; or as Grath requested, you can take a natural progression."

She looks around the group. "Choice".

[mattie_p]

"Worshipful ... err, Captain, err, Empress Lady. Err, how should all refer to your Midnight Blissfulness? Pardon, again, and meaning no disrespect. Who is lieutenant, and the tool of the lieutenant, and what should be known about Ajah Negative?"

The orc fumbles over his words even more than usual, and seems somewhat abashed and embarrased as he tries to speak.

[AshesOfOld]

"Oh, I see. That makes much more sense." Thorwald looks around at the others.
"Well, I wouldn't mind using a little shortcut. I miss having ground underneath my feet, although it will probably take a while before that happens."

[Marlowe]

The figure's mouth crinkles up at the corners, and her eyebrows twist. ""Blissfulness?" That's a new one. "Lady" will do, or "Captain". I'm accustomed to just being called "Sir", but as you're Outlanders, that would just beg so many questions."

"We gave up our names when we ascended. It seemed an appropriate gesture. We might have reconsidered had we known our followers would make a party game about making up ominous titles and nicknames for us."

Her eyes flicker over to Bethlen. "Speaking of games, Cadet. Was all that slash fiction about the Iron Rider and I really necessary?"

Audible gulp from Bethlen, but she rallies. "Lotus liked it! And Astra, frighteningly enough"

"So did the Iron Rider, frighteningly enough. Anyway. My lieutenant--my senior Cleric-- is the one who shut this place down and installed the interloper, who appears to be rapidly acquiring more names than the average minor diety. What she plans for him I may not find out in the obvious ways. Again, that would be cheating. I do not approve of his presence, or his choice in minions" One of her wingtips stabs out with snakelike swiftness and bisects a Troll skull."Deal with him, or I'll find someone who can. And I will deal with her, in the way that is lawful and respectful to mortals. Now, Shall I move you?"

[Linguz]

"I'm all for it. I'd rather get through this entire thing as fast as I can."

[Marlowe]

The seconds draw out. Dardiana is conscious of a high-pitched keening in her head, but no words can be made out.

The figures wings turn over slowly and form into a triple-W shape sweeping all the way across the chamber. She runs a thumb across her closed mouth.

"Cadet?"

Bethlen answers; "Sir, I'd love to explore this place further, but we need get the job done. I vote for a move to somewhere more stable. I can always come back here later with Astra."

Gretchen, who's been hiding behind her, stick her head out. "And I just want to finish this baby necro and get out of here"

The figure's eyes turn unblinking from Gregor, to Horbin to Delphi. "Four in favour, one against. There's only one here whose loyalty and obediance I might lawfully command. I need to hear one more yes."

[Marlowe]

The figure looks again at Gregor, and abruptly cracks her knuckles. "Not in your own voice, and only an absention. Still, that makes a working majority of "yes". Now I'm Sorry. Her voice rises a notch in volume. "The Normal Ways Don't Work In The Twisted Levels, And What Works For Me Will Not Work For You. So; VIA TENEBRARUM".

And then darkness, shot through with blue-shifted stars, abruptly bursts from her wings and engulfs you all.

The darkness is complete, but some of you see things.

Dardiana:
Dardiana sees a scene from what looks like a coastal town with white stone buildings and a clear sky, a warm climate. She sees a number of tables outside a tavern, sporting numerous customers in clothing styles she doesn't recognise.

Focus seems to be a dark-haired young man in lightweight black armour, odd spikes protruding on his shoulderguards. He is looking intently at some papers before him, and sporting a haunted look. A young woman in a less ornate, more feminised version of the same armour, sans spikes, has just passed him a bowl of something, and seems about to sit down with him to eat with the second bowl she holds in her other hand.

Then all the other figures in the scene collapse like puppets with cut strings, falling limb into their chairs or onto the street. The man starts like he's been struck, and the young woman staggers and drops her bowl. She remains upright.

The all the fallen begin to get up. Slowly and carefully, like whatever controls them isn't sure how to walk right. All have completely no facial expression.

The woman draws a shortsword, and assumes a fighting pose.

The man shouts, "It's here. Already. Don't fight, Livutea, get to the skiff!"

The expressionless crowd begins to trudge near them. Those that had weapons are slowly drawing them.

The woman grinds out. "Right, Admiral". But throws a glowing sphere of something into the front of the crowd, where it bursts in a blast of flame.

Then she runs toward a nearby wharf, grabbing the man by his collar as she does so. He follows. "The fleet's at Muelva! Got to warn them-"

They run toward a sleek, single-masted vessel of unfamiliar design, bobbing cheerfully in the bright blue water. A couple of crossbow bolts fall near them as they run.

Horbin
Horbin sees strange structure of standing stones, looking oddly bright and new. The background is a range of impressive mountains that look almost like the Godspine when viewed from the north, but not quite.

Within the structure, you see a caped and armoured figure with long hair. She is standing before a set of glowing spheres that she constantly moves about with her hands, peering into each one in turn.

She seems to be laughing.

Based on the look in her eyes and the set of her mouth, it's not a nice kind of laughter.

Then she half-turns, and stares at a spot in the air to her side. She stops laughing.

She looks confused, then frightened, then smiles nervously.

And then she looks terrified, and her hands move to her mouth.

And then something like a massive shaft of bright light bursts through the mountains in the background, and strikes just where she is standing.

The scene blanks out.

[Marlowe]

Delphi
Delphi sees a night turned to red day by fires, and the wreck of a city. Houses and walls are smashed and slagged. Trees are ruined stumps. Skeletons, seared clean of all flesh, lie in the streets.

A young woman in a blue tunic, a white streak in her dark hair, comes walking through the ashes. A number of darker, larger figures float through the air behind her.

She stops at a certain smashed section of wall that looks like it was once part of a house. Looks down, and sees a certain corpse.

She bends down and picks up the skull, turns it over and over in her hands. Then she closes her eyes.

She runs her hand over the wall, along a line four feet above the ground, until she finds a place where a stone is missing. Carefully, she place the skull inside the space, and wedges another stone into the gap.

She turns to the figures around and above her. "That was it." she says. "There's nothing more for us here. Let's go"

Thorwalt
Thorwalt sees an army walking through rolling orchards.

No, not an army. Many are armed and armoured, most are in tattered everyday wear. All walk stiffly and slowly, in step and at the same pace, but in no order or formation. All have blank eyes and no expression.

A white star suddenly appears in the sunlit sky.

The army cries the same words in thousands of voices:"Wait! I haven't--". Something streaks from the star downward.

A massive shockwave of fire and force strikes the host, sending burning bodies and bits of bodies flying. Its followed by another and another.

When they stop, everything burns. Nothing moves. The trees are blackened splinters.

The white star is joined by a golden one, streaking out of the west. Then by a blood-red one coming from the north. They linger near each other for a time, and then they streak away east.

Grath
Grath sees a slightly blue tinged half-orc girl, in black leathers, standing very, very straight on a field full of humans, identically clad, standing the same. She seems to be listening to something.

When it's over, the ranks on either side of her relax slightly. She remains standing straight, and raises her head a little. She seems to be smiling.

[Marlowe]

And then the darkness seems to flow back past you, the stars looking oddly red.

You find yourselves, dogs and boar and all, in a place with light and warmth. The ground underfoot seems to be brick, but heavily padded with vegetation. There's the sound of a steady trickle of water.

The figure is above you, her wings outstretched against a ceiling that releases a gentle blue light.

You're in a rectangular hall, dominated by a large rectangular pool in the center. Vines and moss cover the walls and floors, and tiny waterfalls trickle down the longer walls, feeding the pool. In the corners are latticework screens covered in ivy. Behind them you think you see benches.

She speaks; "That" She points at an arched doorway at one end of the room. "Is the way out. The interloper cannot get in. It is a blank wall from the other side. The normal way in is at the opposite end, but the corridors beyond are deep green. He will not be going that way. The bath-the necess-the privies are through there", she points at a smaller doorway on one of the longer walls, between the waterfalls.

"The benches are comfortable, and as I recall, relaxing or exciting depending on the company. If you have no food, look for bricks that aren't covered with vegetation. Please don't touch the fish."

Her wings fold in around her, covering her form. "See you all later"

And then her wings become an angular hole in space, that quickly shrinks and disappears.

The pool makes a BURBLE as a fish briefly breaks the surface.

[u-b]

Gregor moves closer to the pool to observe the fishes. He liked the place and spent some time just looking around.

"Someone knows how to live a life. Or at least how to set up a habitation. I feel at home, whatever plane this is."

Then he turns to the arched doorway.

"Going in?"

[mattie_p]

"Seems like all should rest and wait here for a few hours, before proceeding. And Captain Midnight Sir Lady said it was safe from Azkaban here. If not, all will be prisoners of Azkaban if not dead of Azkaban. Grath needs a minute, anyway, to get visions out of head."

Grath shakes his head and resumes his litany. "No like magic zapping. Magic talks to people. Magic makes clothes fit. Magic paper talks to Ingva. Magic zaps people to Alnwizk two days away. Magic makes people walk on walls. Magic zaps group to pool while giving visions of cute orc girl. Grath does not like this magic. No. Well, orc girl not so bad."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen has a very odd expression on her face. "If you go out there now, Gregor, you're never getting back in. It's a blank wall on the other side, remember? And the proper way in runs through ADA central."

She rubs her head. "Also, I think I got your vision as well as mine."

Then she seems to register something and looks at Grath sideways. "Cute Orc girl? Funny. Think I got one of those too."

Oh, and there are indeed quite a few fish in this pond, and a lot of submarine plants growing in it. The water looks extremely clear.

[u-b]

"Umm... back? Why back? I thought we are moving forward. This way forward?" - after a short pause, a glance at the dogs, and a shrug - "Can rest here if anyone is tired."

[Marlowe]

"Gregor, we've been moving since the predawn encounter with the skeletons. We only got to this place at dusk. Everyone here's been moving or fighting for the last eighteen hours."

[Linguz]

"At least you got something to look at while you traveled. I got... a confusing series of events. If it's real, then someone is chasing a pair of people by using normal people as puppets." Dardiana rubbed her head and activated her magesight before looking around the room.

[Marlowe]

Bethlen looks at Dardiana strangely. "Are you sure that's what's happening right now? Not some other time...because if mine was, then something has gone seriously wrong with cause and effect, and if my OTHER one was" she snakes a look at Gregor "Then my education in geography was a serious piece of misinformation. In any event," she looks at Gretchen, who is crying and breathing heavily on the mossy bricks next to her, "maybe you got off lightly"

Dardiana:
Detect Magic reveals a low-power but persistant glow from the walls. The aura seems to be more divine than arcane. There are stronger auras from the ceiling, the doorway, and the bottom of the pool.

[Linguz]

Spellcraft Walls: [roll0]
Spellcraft Ceiling: [roll1]
Spellcraft Doorway: [roll2]
Spellcraft Bottom of Pool: [roll3]

Also, I just remembered: She's in a bikini.

"I'm not sure. It could be now, it could be the past, it could've been a vision of the future, or it could've been a fantasy. Or do you have a way to know when mine was from?" Dardiana turns to Gretchen and considers what to do. "There's divine magic on the ceiling, the doorway, the walls, and the bottom of the pool. Nothing else." If she figures out what the school of magic is, she also tells them.

After allthat, she approaches Gretchen and sits down next to her. "Want to talk about it?"

[Marlowe]

Dardiana
Mainly Orisons on the walls. Create Water mainly, backed up with Prestidigation. There's a purification spell on the bottom of the pool. The doorway (and indeed, the opposite wall at the other end of the hall) is shining with Transmutation and Illusion auras, and the Ceiling is glowing with illusion.

Bethlen gives Dardiana a deadly look, then puts a hand on Gretchen's shoulder. "Best do it. Best not let it canker."

Gretchen remains prone. And goes silent for a couple of seconds. Then;"Wasn't very old. I was nine. I was running with my mother hand-in-hand. We had broken irons around our hands and feet. In a strange place. We didn't want to be there. We turned a corner. At the same time three people in black coats turned the corner in front of us.

"Mother hesitated, and a whole mob of people in armour and yellow capes came yelling in behind us. I saw two spears take mother in the back. I got one through my leg. That happened, I remember that.

"The Blackcoats rushed forward towards us. Mother was seeping blood out her mouth, but she picked me up by the back of my clothes and threw me at them. the middle one caught me. He said something like "Oh, Blessed Silence-"

"The other two stepped past us and there was heat and noise and screams behind me. When I turned around there was fire and no more yellowcaped people alive. And my mother was lying with five spears through her back.

"And one of the blackcoats looked down at her and said; "I guess we lose one point today". And that's when I get upset."

[stanleyindraven]

"Make way!" As soon as Horbin gets his wits back he takes off running for the privies. "Haven't gone most of the day," his voice trails off as he leaves the main chamber.

[Marlowe]

Horbin finds himself in a chamber with four booths to the left, and a bench with four basins to the right. The sound of water flowing is strong on both sides.

Going into the booths on the left reveals a sort of seat with a hollow in it, with water flowing away from the main room a little below the sitting level.

There's fold of some white, flat, dry stuff similar to paper apparently growing out of the left wall. Pulling it it breaks off, and reveals another fold.

((screw the Tippyverse. Make a modern bathroom with programmed and permanancied cantrips and orisons. OK, so I'm cheating with the paper. It would be easier to just have a "prestidigitation" switch, but that's harder to follow.))

Bethlen gives Gretchen and Dardiana an unreadable look, nods at Horbin as he runs in, and stands up, running her fingers through her hair. "Want to hear your vision, Gregor? At least I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be yours.

"There were mountains. Spectacular mountains clad in mist, higher than my homeland, higher than yours, and an old man with stick, and a dog, walking up a grassy slope in the foreground. I know the shape of those mountains. They are the Devil's Fence in Yamighul. But they haven't had mist or snow or grass about them for a long, long, time.

"The old man is shading his eyes and looking around constantly, the dog chasing off in all directions. They are looking for something. A lost goat kid? Most likely. It went on for a while.

"Then the old man suddenly collapses. No fuss. Just drops like he's stopped living. The dog comes over and sniffles at him. And then he stands up. Slowly, carefully. One limb before another. Nothing on his face. He stands up straight.

"And then he whacks the dog with his stick. Hard.

"The dog whines and backs away. The man puts his hand up, slowly and carefully, as though he's never done this before, and gestures the dog to come in closer. The dog does.

"And the man hits the dog so hard the thing keels over. And he keeps on hitting. In measured time, his face blank, until the animals brains are all over his stick.

"And then he turns around and walks like a machine. A long time. Until he's down the slope and comes to a little village. His village, I knew.

"As he approaches, a couple of children run out toward him, looking pleased and excited. And as they get within speaking distance of him, they collapse too. He just keeps walking.

"As he passes them, they rise, carefully and expressionlessly, and fall into step with him as they walk toward the village."

[AshesOfOld]

When Thorwald arrives at the scene, he's already laughing hysterically: "YES! Hahahahaha, Burn! BURN! Hahah, oh... You guys are here too."
He stands for a moment, not sure what to do, then turns around.
"Ooh, look at the fishies."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen turns her lip at Thorwald, keeping a hand on Gretchen's back. "Legs, if what you saw was happening right now, She would not be dealing with us, She'd be moving to sterilise the scene, along with all the rest. That is her job. Why She's hanging about now rather than moldering in an ornate tomb for the last few thousand years.

And Asgard, the Imperials, the Olympians, the Pharoahics; they'd all be pulling their fingers off this world faster than you can say "Apocalypse Maiden Brigade". Like the Old Gods did, before the Abberancy. And we'd all be frelled. Some cultures pray to their gods. We pray ours never have to turn up.

"Based on what I saw, and what you've said, you saw a bit of the Abberancy War. Somewhere quite near the beginning. Any more details you can give me?"

[Linguz]

"Now that changes things. It was a coastal town and the scene was centered around a tavern. People were wearing different clothing..." She describes the clothing. "A raven haired man in the same color spiked armor. A girl in the same armor minus the spikes too." She described the armor and people. "Then the whole living zombie thing happens. A name is called... Lifvutae or something like that. She calls him Admiral. And then they go to the docks. Another name is called, Muelva I believe."

[Marlowe]

"I don't know the name Muelva...butbutbut" She looks thoughtful. "The woman's name? Livutea? She's the consort of the Black Admiral, who's appearance doesn't seem to have changed much. She ascended with him, but she's not accounted one of the Captains and she kept her name. She has some following amongst those eccentrics in our culture that favour simple resourcefulness and ingenuity over magical power."

Her eyes go down. "My, though, that's going very far back. Well. If it's not spoiling the ending for you; they got away."

[Linguz]

Dardiana has studied religion. She got a [roll0] on her knowledge roll related to those two.

"So I got a view of to-be-gods? Nice." She turned to the rest of the crowd. "Anyone else want to share what they saw?"

[Marlowe]

Dardiana
Your fey stops keening wordlessly in your head. Thankfully. "Youyouyouyou---That was The Bladewinged Obliterator! And you spoke casually to her! And your Cleric mistook her for someone else! And you all kept her waiting! Why aren't we dead?"

There's a bit of a pause as the Fey seems to get ahold of herself. "The Black Admiral is the Administrate God of the Sea. Well, more correctly, of ships and sailors and those that travel by contrivance through hostile mediums. After they all decided to stop breaking things and left, thank anyone else you care to name, he's spent most of his time in the astral plane, being trouble for anyone that lives or passes through there"

"Also, Livutea isn't just their Roguish god, she's also, by default and by proven ability, their fertility god. Which is awkward since they apparently don't pass on their godlike status by blood. She spends a lot of time down in disguise as a maid or a tutor or something trying to mother half-a-dozen children in different places at once without letting on that she IS their mother. They don't worship her much because they know she's got a lot to do and they don't want to bother her.

"And don't mention that to your friend because a lot of them don't know this the reason for this. Suffice to say they don't like black-haired people getting with other black-haired people, and it's for a good reason."

((That's a hell of a lot of information for a roll of 15, but what the Nifleheim?))

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald looks up from the fish. "I saw an army of beggars burned alive by a white star." He shrugs. "What? It was a nice image. Reminds me of the dreams I had when I was a kid.
Oh, and then the white star was joined by a golden and bloodred one. Not sure what it means. Maybe the starts are supposed to be gods?"

[u-b]

Sitting beside the pool and looking at the fishes Gregor is not actually sure if he wanted to hear that. But what is heard cannot be un-heard.

"Horrible thing, that is. Was it destroyed, or suppressed?"

[Linguz]

Dardiana thought to her other inhabitant, We're not dead because we're apparently really lucky. And I assume by default you mean she's the only female god in the administrate? Thanks for the info, by the way. Any idea of what the stars could mean in Thor's vision?

[Marlowe]

Dardiana
Your Fey somehow give the impression of taking a deep breath. "Do you think that thing we just spoke to is some kind of cross-dresser? Most of the Administrate Exalted are female. We're not sure how that worked out. The Black Admiral, The Infinite Librarian, The Dread Beast That Guards, the Warped Sage are male. The Iron Rider, The Starlight Destroyer, The Bringer of Silence, The Ruler of Darkness aka that thing we just saw, The Burning General, The Knight of the Healing Wind and a lot of those other people I don't want to deal with are not. She's their fertility goddess because she's...energetic. And into men. Or at least, into the Black Admiral. And a lot of the others...well."

"Anyway, now I've exhausted my gossip about people I really don't want to meet ever: White is the Starlight Destroyer. Gold is the Bringer of Silence. Red is, surprise surprise, The Crimson Iron Rider."

[Linguz]

Sorry, I don't really know which gods are administrate and which aren't. I don't have much of an interest in that.

"According to a voice in my head, that they are. 'White is the Starlight Destroyer. Gold is the Bringer of Silence. Red is the Crimson Iron Rider.'" She approached the pond of water and looked into it. "So we're not allowed to eat the fish... but the walls provide nutrients." She thought aloud, "If you've ever got anything to say, please do." Then she focused back on her group, waiting for the next story.

[Marlowe]

Bethlen's still stretched out over Gretchen. In an way that seems to be avoiding physically contact as much as possible. "sorry for the tactlessness...died to protect you...died like a soldier...I'd be proud of her. I really would." Until Gretchen abruptly stands up, brushing Bethlen aside. ""That's right".

Bethlen, shoved onto the floor, looks at her for a moment, then looks at the wall and touches a brick that the vegetation seems to be avoiding. It opens with a click

"Well...I've apparently now got two turkey drumsticks and a large flagon of mead. What are the rest of you having?"

Gretchen looks at her. "You're a cold thing"

Bethlen bites into the first drumstick, chews, swallows, and nods. "I'm exactly what you should expect, which is why I like you, who is different." And then she takes another bite.

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin walks into the room with a satisfied look on his face. "Been holding that for the better part of the evening." He then looks about and walks up to a vegetation free brick and pushes it. "Did I miss anything useful?"

[Linguz]

Dardiana moves to a tile and presses it down. "Don't know. Lets see, how about it?"

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald looks up at Gregor, "What the army? It was burned by fire, I guess you could call murder by fire something along the lines of supression... Not really, though."
He follows Bethlen's example and pushes a tile.

"Pah. It's kinda difficult to keep track of the gods, with all those nicknames. Can your voice in the head maybe translate them to their 'original' names, if they have any? Loki is just so much easier to remember."

[Marlowe]

Dardiana's brick clicks open, revealing half a roast chicken and a green bottle full of some dark liquid stoppered with a cork. And a couple of simple wooden cups.

Thorwalt finds a crisp loaf of bread and two small wheels of some soft white cheese.

Horbin finds a meatloaf and a large, flip-topped flagon.



Also:

Dardiana
You get a real sense that your Fey is making one of those "wow, that is so dumb I feel stupider just hearing it" faces. "Tell the Cleric first that I don't have any idea, because I'm not nearly that old, and second that if I did know, I wouldn't say, because it would annoy them. Ask him to think about what he's seen in the last few minutes and whether he wants these people annoyed with us.

"OOH! That looks like wine. Let's get sloshed and forget he's even here."



((Sorry for constantly reediting. Silly morning. Had to attend a "demonstration class" to "show us how to teach the Chinese way".

Which turns out to be basic PPP lesson structure, only with very very basic content and not much of the second two Ps.

Evidently my boss is under the impression that the last four years of my life don't count as teaching experience, because they weren't in China.

So I'm seething a little and not reading as well as I might.:smallredface:))

[mattie_p]

Seeing free food for the taking, Grath selects two bricks and opens them both. Between bites of his meal, Grath says, "Didn't see much, except for vision of half-orc girl in army of humans, all wearing black leather. Bluish, like Grath. Cute, a little. Let Grath see if can find someone who resembles girl in picture book."

With that, Grath roots around in his pack until he finds his picture book, "Half-Orcettes Half-Dressed", and carefully looks at each of them to see if he can find a girl like the one in his vision.

[Marlowe]

Grath finds a plate of what seems to be roast duck, another of the greenish bottles with wooden cups, an apple, and a leg of ham.

Bethlen is saying, in the tones of one who doesn't really expect to be listened to; "Put all the empties, dishes and leavings back into the compartment when you're done, and close the lid so they can reset. And no, the compartments don't create the-" Then she notices what Grath is looking at, and tilts her head to get a better view.

None of the subjects in the book seem to bare (:smalleek:) much resemblance to the girl in the vision. Of course, that girl was dressed from neck to toe, so you were looking at her face. These others, not so much.

[Linguz]

Dardiana reaches inside with a slight grin on her face. "Free wine, don't mind if I do." She quickly removed the cork and took a swig of the wine, straight from the bottle. "Hey, flaming priest. She doesn't have any idea of what their original names are-and-or-were. And calling them by that name apparently annoys them. And she doesn't want to annoy them, in fear of death."

She took another drink of the wine, then reached in and took the roast chicken, which she bit into soon after. "I wouldn't mind staying here forever. Free wine and food, and comfy benches according to that god." She decided to test out the benches and sat down on one of them, wine and chicken in hand.

[Marlowe]

"Forever? Why, what would we do all day?"

Bluff check to project tone of total innocence:[roll0]

[Linguz]

Sense Motive: [roll0] (:P) (Nope, she thinks you're serious.)

"Eat, sleep, and play. I'm not sure what we could play that wouldn't get boring, but we'd come up with something."

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald stuffs his mouth with bread and cheese and puses another tile. Stupid bloody gods. You'd think being all-powerful would make them a little less sensitive.

"Nevermind. Well, even heroes need to eat. Feel like I haven't eaten since we were back at the fort."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen has picked some broad, flat leaves off the vines, and places her half-eaten turkey drumstick down upon it.

"Incidentally Cleric, about your vision. Or your rendering thereof. Interesting. I was previously unaware of the Starlight Destroyer's characteristically simple and direct yet uncharacteristically invidious solution to the problem of social inequality, nor was I informed of the tendency of the financially destitute to group in military formations. Is it just possible that you've been misunderstanding...

She holds out both hands, palm up, while she seems to search for an appropriate word. "...Everything?"

[AshesOfOld]

"Are you calling me... stupid?" Thorwald takes a step towards Bethlen, bread and cheese still in hand. He looks her straight in the eye, for a moment, then shows a broad smile.
"I was of course speaking metaphorically about the beggars. T'was an army, or at least a large host of mostly armed people, yet many of them wore tattered clothes and expressionless faces. Like beggars they looked resigned to life. And they were burned by a white star, which, according to Dardiana, is the Starlight Destroyer.

So. Not my fault you can't understand the simplest of metaphors and descriptions."
With that, Thorwald plants his ass on the floor and continues eating.

[u-b]

"The army is... fingers? I mean, the whole Aberrancy. Was it destroyed, or suppressed?"

Then, since some started getting food from the walls and some started paying that food very close attention, Gregor followed example of the former and shared what he got with the later (active chomping promptly ensued).

[Marlowe]

Bethlen stays exactly where she is. Lounging against the wall and chewing on turkey. But Gretchen stands up, and draws her club. "Metaphors are for people who know what they're talking about. When you use them when you know nothing, that's called something el-" And then Gregor's words hit her.

She looks at Gregor rather bewildered and wild-eyed, then speaks.

""Fingers". That's exactly what they'd become. That's a good guess. I wish Astra or Brunswick were here. They're the smart ones. I'm just the violent party girl," she takes another bite.

"And with Lotus around, I have real competition. Anyway, from what I know, the Abberancy was sealed.."suppressed", as you say, not destroyed. We hurt it badly, but probably not as badly as it hurt this world. And we'll be on watch for it and anything like it, because no world needs to go through that or anything like it twice. This is our mission. And when I say "our" I mean everything from me up to the person with the wings you just met.

"And if it, or anything like it turns up again, we are not going to let it have it's way. We are going to kill it. And if at all possible, make it suffer as it made millions suffer. It may not understand. We don't care."

She snarls a bite off her drumstick and swallows it whole.

"So, little Fire-Priest, did you sleep through your devotions literally or metaphorically? "

[stanleyindraven]

"Could it be the masses were undead and were turned by holy powers into dust through flaming light? Just my two cents. And I am pretty sure we don't have to worry about the lieutenant anymore, just Anjelous," Horbin halfheartedly adds in between bites.

[AshesOfOld]

"What, you think I went to some sort of cleric school? How the Hel would I know how to interpret these weird visions? You asked what I saw, so I told you. I'm just a guy who likes fire. So, I guess, literally.
You wanna tell us something else I would have no way of knowing, and then make fun of me again for not knowing it?"

Thorwald spits the rest of his food out on the floor demonstratively.

"You dump us in the middle of this dimensional ****hole, and somehow I am supposed to have all the answers? This is your mission, not mine.
You always seem to have an answer for everything, yet when I ask you how you know these things, you dodge like a fox. Is it such a wonder why I don't trust you? You're so full of ****, you'd have trouble unburdening yourself in the next room in two sittings. Metaphorically."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen draws herself up to her full height, which is about the same as Thorwalds and snaps;"You haven't asked me any questions! Not sensible ones. You keep asking to to correct fantasies out of your head until I can't keep track. I do know one thing; when your teammates here asked you to help me, you did nothing. Just stood back and sneered. And we, that's we, your team, cannot rely on you to communicate any information accurately. We have a word for that sort of person where I come from. That word is "corpse".

"And yes I DO expect that you come from "some sort of Cleric school". Cleric means "clerk". It means a scholar. If you're just going to futter around making random guesses you're no better than a Favoured Soul. Minus the "Favoured".

"So come up with something intelligent. I didn't drag any of you here. I appreciate all of your work" her voice softens. "If you want to ask me a question. Ask me a question. I will answer. But you don't do that. Instead it seems you'd rather live in fantasies. Insult me all you want, fire-priest. I'm a mountain of dead men above you"

[mattie_p]

"Bethlen, Thorwald, calm down now before Grath spanks you both. Not the time for this." Grath puts his food down and stands up to his full height, looming over both.

"The problem with all is that none know anything. How can be expected to know what questions to even ask? No. All just figure this out, piece at a time, just like life."

He walks away at this point. Over his shoulder he says, "Grath needs to use privy, and then go to bed. Think overnight, then tomorrow more killing to be done."

[stanleyindraven]

The sound of snoring can be heard from Horbin's direction. Those who look see him draped over a bench with flagon in hand, sleeping, hard. Glenda rests on the ground beside him.

[AshesOfOld]

Not seeing anything going his way anytime soon, Thorwald decides to let it go.

"Of course, Grath. You're the voice of wisdom, as always.

And Bethlen, I ah... I appreciate the change in tone... At least. And if you wanna know, there was no 'school' for clerics of Loki where I'm from. Apparantly worshipping the firelord is frowned upon in some places. I have read some books though. On my own."

Thorwald decides to be helpful and see if he can wreck his brains for something useful.
Knowledge religion:
The Abberancy [roll0]
The Starlight Destroyer [roll1]
The Bringer of Silence [roll2]
The Crimson Rider [roll3]
The army of 'beggars' (you know what I mean, it's a metaphor) [roll4]

[Marlowe]

Thorwald:
This is hard stuff for you to know, but I'll give you a break with the good rolls:

The Starlight Destroyer, The Captain of Captains, the Devil in White, is a member of the Administrate Pantheon. She is usually depicted as a red-haired, blue eyed woman in a long white dress, or sometimes a white surcoat over armour. Carries a spear. Her words are reputed to be "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line flanked by flaming debris"

The "Beggars": There's an old story you heard once about, about people that abruptly drop as though dead, and arise as a puppet controlled by something unknown. It is said that such things are malevolent, and even approaching one can pass the condition onto you. There's said to be no sure for this.

Bethlen's still gritting her teeth at Thorwald. "If that's the case, then you really should have talked to Astra more seriously, instead of leering at her like she was a delivery system for a pair of tits". She flicks a suddenly wide-eyed look at Grath "Going to bed, Tiger? No spanking?".

Then she registers Gretchen expression. "Don't worry. I can squeeze you in later".

[mattie_p]

"Offer was to spank both, Bethlen, includes Thorwald. But Grath might make an exception."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen gives her "genuinely amused" laugh, the short sharp bark. "Well, right now, go do what you have to do" she does the practised run of the hand through the fastenings on her chest. They give with a series of sharp snaps, and her armour peels away from her. "Even if it hasn't been forty minutes, I'm getting wet" And promptly dives deep into the pool.

((I'm starting to be a little frightened of Bethlen myself, frankly))

[Linguz]

Dardiana chuckles as she sees Beth dive into the pool and quickly finishes off her wine, which she put back in the slot with the chicken and closed the container. She took her backpack and removed her outfit. For a few seconds, she was as bare as the orcs in Grath's book. After those seconds, she had her underclothing on and was diving into the pool, where she hangs around the other swimmer.

[AshesOfOld]

"I certainly did not. I found her an impressive lady, that's all. Besides, look who's talking." Thorwald barks back, finishing with a nod to where grath is standing.

Thorwald unclasps his armor, and says to noone in particular: "If anyone's still interested, I think I heard a story once about this army of braindead people. They were controlled by some malevolent force, and it was said that if you even got close to them, that was it. You would fall and become one of them.
Could the Abberancy be behind something like this?
And perhaps The Starlight Destroyer fought them?"

[Marlowe]

((Great . So Ragged has a rough week and now we have to write our own Yuri? What's the world coming to.

Also, a strange disconnect between game mechanics and action. As a New Zealander, I have trouble grasping the concept of a functional human being (or elf, or whatever) that can't swim. Even though I work in Asia, where many can't. But I doubt if anyone involved here puts skill points into it, so I'm just going to assume everyone can swim competantly and that the Swim skill is only used in cases where there's actual danger))

The fish scatter in all directions, and the lilies and other aquatic plants make the corners corners of the pool a slowly waving jungle.

Bethlen seems to be in the mood to sink down as low as she can get. It takes her a couple of kicks, but she's soon right by the bottom of the pool, her limbs spread and relaxed.

After a long silence, she flips over, opens her eyes enough to see Dardiana's location, then shoots past her to the surface.

((To the Continuity Errormobile!))

As she emerges, she pulls her hair back and turns toward Thorwald. "Yes. And Yes. Not that complex, really." And then, obviously enjoying herself, takes a breath and dives backward toward the bottom of the pool.

[Linguz]

((Everyone can swim. That's exactly how the swim skill works.))

Dardiana stays underwater for as long as possible before floating up to the surface and spreading out, floating on the surface of the pool. This is what she'll be doing until someone bothers her or something else happens.

[Marlowe]

((As the DM, I probably should be reading these things more thoroughly. So, I take it nobody in WoTC ever visited Asia?))

Bethlen makes a point of diving deep and staying down as long as she can, surfacing for air only occasionally. After a few minutes she hauls herself up by the side of the pool and rests her head on her arms, staring intently into the wall.

Gretchen watches the pool for many minutes, then turns to the ivy-clad latticework screens guarding the corner. It turns out they can unfold to create a more or less private environment.

She mutters, loud enough so people can hear it; "Nice place to build in the middle of a war."

[u-b]

"He that would teach men to die must know how to live." ... "Seems like they do."

[Marlowe]

Gretchen forks a look at Gregor. "You've become awfully philisophical, and effective, since we left the forest. Almost as if this were your environment. Are you sure you're not one of...one of-"

"Ours?" finishes Bethlen, pulling herself up and sitting on the edge of the pool with her legs in the water. "I honestly wouldn't know, but highly unlikely. We are overwhelming Human. Not that that's a matter of policy, that's just how it happened."

She darts a look to the privy door; "How long does he take? If I'm to have a busy night I'd like it to be properly choreographed" She lies down on her back, her hands behind her head and her legs in the water. "Should have insisted on bringing Brunswick, Lotus, and Astra. But they have something going on involving an illegal vampire, a Free-Stater slavery ring operating out of Kweichau, an underground Republican Cleric of Demeter, a problem with this year's Ashdown budget, a group of assassins who call themselves the Silver Hands, some illusionist seducer who's been manipulating teenagers to fight each other for some bizarre reason that involves sleeping with him, and a large man with an axe. So they're busy this week"

[mattie_p]

Grath re-enters the chamber, wearing his loincloth. He sets his pack on the ground to the side of the pool. "If fighting broke out, Grath did not want to be present. Not sure which side to take."

(( And Grath did put 3 ranks into swimming, I'll have you know. ))

"Gretchen, want some reading material?" He tosses the magazine at her feet, then dives easily into the pool.

[Marlowe]

Gretchen picks up the magazine and stares at the pages intently. Now and then, she turns her head.

Grath's dive sends fish scattering in all direction, and a fountain of water over Bethlen, who reacts simply by closing her eyes.

The wave of his entry gently pushes Dardiana toward the opposite end of the pool, until she comes to rest in a cluster of lilypads.

((I know we're on break, but let's give the thread some love.:smallsmile:))

[u-b]

Gregor put the dishes into the wall, unharnessed Abyss, unfolded the bedroll and sits on it some distance away from the pool, doing nothing. The dogs are welcome to behave as they see fit, but will probably study and possibly mark the surrounding area.

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald enjoys the opportunity to stretch his legs and massage his pounding head. He spends the next hour trying patiently to befriend Gregor's dogs, using a little food to help things along.
Handle animal [roll0]

[mattie_p]

"Bethlen, what is life like in the Administrate? Grath does not know anything about that far away land."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen fetches Grath a really long look after that question, then laughs. "Sorry, I've been waiting for that question for a long time now. Since the Nixie.

We spend a lot of time studying, practicing, standing to attention on cold mornings, and sneaking around after dark trying to discover what's really going on."

Her face lengthens a bit. "Which is kind of ruined when we discover that what's really going on is exactly what we're told is going on. We're schooled to take on the Abberancy, or anything like it, should it occur again. And incidentally tke care of anything lesser too. Like the Union Princes and their Planar Binding fun"

Nobody changes eye contact, but Gretchen suddenly seems very interested in the Half-Orc porn mag.

"But that gets boring after a few thousand years. So it's become a custom of ours to go out into the world until we're strong enough to join the regular divisions. Because I'd be a liability against something like the Abberancy as I am now. And so Fullbright and Ressormont are in Alnwick, trying to sort out the budget. Lotus, Astra, and Brunswick play hunter against more obvious problems, and I'm the outrider." She streaks back her hair. "But one thing I was never schooled in" she says with force, "Is how little anyone else knows. I'm good at lying, but I speak the frelling truth all the time here and nobody seems to believe it."

[u-b]

The dogs do not seem to be interested in more food at the moment, but are enjoying the attention. Abyss does it with a somewhat stern expression, though.

[Marlowe]

Bethlen opens her eyes. "How is Ingva Soulflayer's voice coming along? I haven't met her yet and our records are incomplete, but apparently she used to have a lovely voice. That was before she got an Eldritch Claw across her throat.

"That was us. No, not me and the others personally. An older group.

"I don't have the seniority to know what our people were doing at the time; but apparently something she disapproved of.

"And apparently we disapproved of her disapproval. Well. I was supposed to get up to Whitewater Rip and check her out. See how potent she remained as a local leader. But Kresta got herself kidnapped, and this Kutcher behind it got in my way".

She's been reclining quite passively, but now she straightens up and grabs Grath's hair, pulling him closer to her. "And then you come along."

[mattie_p]

Grath gives a small grin and whispers, "As all can tell you, magic paper talks to Ingva. But enough talking. Let Grath find a cot."

[Marlowe]

"Any of the corners will do, though we'll need to move the screens" she says in her normal, full-mouthed tone.

And then her face falls.

"I'm sorry" she says, suddenly quiet. "I can't be with you long. I have a mission, and another mission, and no matter what happens if I survive I have to report that the Lieutenant of Midnight is involved. To Fullbright if possible. To Astra if not. And then I'll have other things to do.

"If you are having fun with me, have fun with me, but..." she apparently can't think of anything to say and slams her fist down onto the soft foliage. Then her expression twists a little. "Corner. Cot. I believe you promised a spanking? Come along?"

((Obviously, I am going to hell.))

[Marlowe]

(sorry everyone)

Bethlen and Grath move to one of the corners, Bethlen has her armour over her shoulder like a discarded snakeskin.

She pulls the latticeworks screens in place to isolate the area. As she finishes the job, black curtains materialise behind the screens.

Gretchen looks up from the porn mag. "I hope those things are soundproofed"

[AshesOfOld]

"Oh, that is just filthy. Couldn't they at least have found another room?" Thorwald says quietly, grimacing in Bethlen's direction. "Preferably a green one."

[Marlowe]

Gretchen mutters; "Think she'd rather work blue right now." There's a scrape of paper as she turns a page in the Half-Orc porn mag, then turns it sideways.

Horbin snores. The dogs settle down around Gregor. Dardiana floats on her back in the pool, the fish, regaining their courage, tickling her back.

The air has the warmth of a tropical evening, but the water is cool. The light remains the pale blue of the sun shining through ice. The water coming down the walls tinkles softly.

Bethlen's amulet lies on the floor of leaves and moss and vines, she having removed it as she exited the pool. The eyes of the snakes still glow a faint blue light.

((yeah, just bumping until we get our companion back))

[mattie_p]

Behind closed privacy curtains and lattice, Grath quietly talks to Bethlen afterwards.

"Bethlen, there is so much Grath does not know. Could Grath learn to read and write name? See others reading all the time and feel stupid."

[Marlowe]

Grath
Bethlen's eyes open and she breaks off her quiet little acapella rendition of "The National Anthem of Macross", hunts inside some obscure fold in her leathers, and comes out with a sheet of vellum and a pencil.

She writes out the letters, sounding out reach in turn, and encouraging Grath to imitate her, faster and faster, until he runs the sounds together and he's saying it.

She'll then hand him the pencil and get him to copy her own writing (which Grath is probably smart enough to notice, is a little more spiky and angular than the letters he's seen in his own country). And finally does the same with her own name, pointing out the unvoiced "th" that they both have in common.

For once, she is very quiet, saying nothing except to sound the letters and give short instructions.

[mattie_p]

Still behind the curtain: Grath writes the letters, very slowly and sloppily, yet carefully. He practices several times, trying to get them in the correct shapes and order. Then he tries to write his own name, as Bethlen had demonstrated. It takes him several tries before Bethlen is satisfied.

http://i1061.photobucket.com/albums/t467/pecklink/grath-1.png

[Marlowe]

Bethlen, still looking quiet, guides you through each phoneme, although she mutters at some point "Qralh?, are we in some Drow fanfiction...wait, forget I said anything".

She takes the pencil and circles the "TH" sound, then writes her own name and Thorwald's, circling the common sound in each, then quietly sounds them out.

((I'll get us restarted soon enough, guys. Wish I didn't have to do what I'm going to have to do.))

[Linguz]

Dardiana gets out of the pool and doesn't go to change before clicking a few more tiles on the wall and taking out the alcohol in each, completely disregarding any and all food. She put the first bottle to her lips and drank deeply, all the while listening to anything she can hear.

Listen: [roll0]

[Marlowe]

All that can be heard are the trickle of water down tiled walls, the scrape of paper as Gretchen turns over a page from the porn mag, Horbin's and Gregor's snores, the occasional *BLOUMP* of a fish breaking water, and Delphi's whimpering from the corner where she's sequestered herself.

[Linguz]

Dardiana finishes the first two wines and doesn't seem that badly affect, as she is able to walk over to Delphi with no problem and articulate, "Why are you hiding yourself away from the rest of us?"

[Marlowe]

Delphi looks up. Eyes wide. Her voice is flat. "She showed me a city. The biggest place I've ever seen. Or it was. The night sky was red with flames. Every building was smashed. Every tree a blackened stump. Every living thing a blackened skeleton seared clean of all flesh. The ashes were falling like snow.

"She came walking though it. She looked a little--older. And she didn't have the coat or the--the wings. But it was here. There were other people moving with her, above and behind, but I couldn't see them clearly.

"She came to what was left of a stone house. Just a single scrap of wall left standing. Seemed to be a place she knew well. She looked around and came up with a skull, still smoking.

"She stared at it. No word, no change of expression. Then she closed her eyes and found a place in the wall where a large stone was missing. She put the skull carefull into the space, then closed it up with a piece of rubble. Then she just said. "That's it. There's nothing left for us here. Let's go.""

"

[Marlowe]

Meanwhile, behind screens and curtains...

Bethlen seems a little perkier watching Grath's progress. "Nice work there, Tiger. It's nothing difficult or frightening. Now--" She starts snapping her armour together about her. "I hate to keep leaving in the night. Goes with my situation. But I have to see to Gretchen. Keep the vellum and practice some more. If we'll still alive tomorrow I'll try to do a bit more." She quietly opens the screen a little and moves out into the wider room, closing things up behind her.

As Grath looks at the vellum sheet he turns it over and finds some writing on the other side. Bethlen's name is at the top. It's not, though with a bit of Administraty spikiness, her handwriting.

[Marlowe]

Dardiana:
Anything you wanted to say to Delphi, just put it in a spoiler

Next Morning.

there's no morning in this place.

But as the hours draw on the pale blue light from the ceiling gradually dims and empurples, then returns to the pale blue again. Water trickles, fish gently break the surface occasionally, and Horbin snores like a pneumonic Walrus while Abyss puts his paws in his ears.

Gretchen is the first of the strangers to wake, standing up with a start at finding Bethlen sprawled out next to and around her. She kicks the latter in the fundament three times sharply. "...little harder, Tiger" Bethlen mutters. Which apparently confuses Gretchen enough that when Bethlen springs into life the very next second she sweeps the shorter woman's legs out from under her and then pounces on top of her.

Delphi comes out of her corner, rubbing her forehead. She looks blankly at the two woman wrestling in front of her. Blinks, and ignores it. "Suppose we need to get going. Unless we want to start a commune in here. Any of those poles come with us?"

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin snorts and startles himself off the bench and instantly awake on the floor. "Poles? Yes, they're over there," he responds as he draws up to his feet.

[Marlowe]

"Huh" says Delphi a little blankly, as Gretchen hits Bethlen across the face and gets a short jab in the chest in return. "She took them with us? Somehow she gave me the impression of being fairly tight...with resources".

"Admininistrate Witch!"

"Guilty as charged. Can you swim?"

Nuisance looks from one to the other with an odd boarish expression of complete indifference.

[mattie_p]

Grath bursts out from behind the curtain. "Grath can write name! Grath can write name!"

He shows his vellum around proudly, waving it in the face of everybody. He is so excited that he trips over the pile of metal poles, drops his sheet of paper, and falls into the pool.

Looking up from the water, he says, "Grath can write name!"

[Marlowe]

Bethlen already seems to be enjoying herself fighting Gretchen on the floor for no obvious reason, at this point she just collapses into giggles.

Gretchen throws a couple of punches that don't seem to effect Bethlen in the slightest, then draws back.

Bethlen gets up like a deckchair on the shores of night (I'm the DM, I get to steal stuff) and says, her face still distorted with a rather silly smile, "Tiger. When I leave, I'm going to miss you."

[mattie_p]

Grath gets out of the pool and dries himself off. He then demonstrates his writing abilities to everyone, writing out their names. He gets Bethlen and Thorwald right, having seen those names demonstrated last night. He also writes out:

GRAETSHIN

GREGOR

HORBEN

DELFY

DER DARDYANA

ASHLEY JUGGS

"Look, Grath even writes Ashley Juggs, name of guy Sir Miss Empress wants out."

[stanleyindraven]

"That's great Grath, a useful skill in life," Horbin responds with a snicker.

[Linguz]

She just talked to her 'bout unimportant things through the night, and tried to console her and stuff. Here's a charisma check to see how well she did, because I'm feeling lazy. [roll0]

And she's apparently not that great at speaking :/

Dardiana wakes up (most likely having slept in Delphi's arms) and just watches the scenes unfold. When Grath wrote down her name, she went to him and corrected him, removing the top part of the Y and making it a straight line. "It's with an I, not a Y. Close, but not exact." Then she clicks another tile and grabs the wine from in there, taking a long drink. "I'm going to miss this place... Beth, do you think taking several bottles of wine would be fine?"

[Marlowe]

Bethlen stops giggling, abruptly grabs Gretchen by the clasp of her Ashdown cloak, kisses her, then straight-arms her backward into the pool.

There's a splash, Nuisance looks nervous. Bethlen wipes off her lips. "All the food and drink comes from temple offerings back at Heartland. This place has been dormant for a long time. They'll notice if this place is suddenly seeing action. Then again, that should work to our benefit. We're the force for conservatism here, even if we are an improvised rabble.

"Take as much as you can find. No-one's going to bill you. But do you want to be drunk in a place like this?"

[Linguz]

"I'm not planning on drinking it here. Grath, can you do me a favor and carry my studded leathers?" If he said positively, she pulled it out of her bag and tossed it over to him, before filling her bag with 3 more bottles of wine (Fine wine bottle?). Then she went to put on her bikini again. "Ready now."

[mattie_p]

"Grath can do that for Dardiana. With poles, actually getting a little heavy. Grath will just drop poles before fight."

[AshesOfOld]

With all the jolly going on early in the morning, Thorwald is already putting up a grumpy face. He dons his padding and armor, before grabbing some breakfast from the magic tiles. The food doesn't put him in a better mood, though.
"What's with all this noise? Can't a fellow dream in peace?"
At Grath's accomplishment, however, he is nothing but impressed.
"Let me see that." He snatches the paper and studies the crude letters.
"This... is actually pretty good. You've come a long way in just one night, Grath. Maybe your vamp should have been a tutor instead of a... whatever she is."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen's now busy pulling the struggling Gretchen out of the pool, but throws a look over her shoulder. "Vamp? Vamps promise. I deliver".

Delphi has moved to the end of the chamber indicated as the way out, and gives the bland, featureless stone doors a look. "In this place". she mutters, "I'm not sure if I could recognise a trap if it put on a little black dress and served me drinks while singing "Say it now and say it loud/I'm a trap and I'm proud", but this looks harmless enough to me. Pole?"

Thorwald:
Notices that that other side of the vellum sheet contains a letter addressed to Bethlen, and signed (in large, even letters) by Astra.

It reads;

" Bethlen;

"The location on the map is listed in our directories as Reserve Installation 1197X. It was built as a military facility during the War against the Abberancy, I think, by agents of the Crimson Iron Rider. After the Abberancy was sealed beneath Yamighul, it became a private residence, but was rendered structural unsafe by The Destroyers geography-altering moment of rage during the War of the Sage's Treason. It was abandoned, and defended and preserved according to the traditions of the time.

"I hardly need to say that if the active and passive defenses appropriate to a location of this vintage remain in force and operational, it is very likely you will not return. I will not do you the disrespect that you would not do me and attempt to dissuade you. You know what the ADAs are. Please know, as you must know already, that should the worst happen we will see to the welfare of your son, and see that he grows up lacking for nothing, and knowing who you were.

"There are many that could have shut down the defenses from afar and allowed this "Ajneguhs" to occupy it, but who would do so and for what reason is a mystery to me. This man is very foolish, to dwell in such a place. His very life is hostage to the whim of his backer.

"Please return safely, for your sake and ours and the sake of whom you hold. You will know where we are.

[signed]

Astra Vaultspear, of Sickelein. Kissed by Fire, kissed by War, servant of the Burning General.

And your friend."

[u-b]

Gregor wakes up, gets some food, eats, feeds the dogs and prepares to move on, all while trying to stay away from the mess.

[mattie_p]

Grath, starting to calm down, hands Delphi a pole, or more if she wants them. While she is searching for traps, he puts on the rest of his clothes, packs his things up, and grabs a meal from the bricks.

[Marlowe]

Delphi gives the doors a poke with the pole. It fails to go through as if they didn't exist. There's a metallic ringing sound. One of the doors swings in a tiny fraction before its weight very slowly swings it back flush.

Delphi shrugs. "Using my keen Halfling senses and my keen class skills, I conclude that these "doors" are, in fact, doors. Something of a first for this place. I can't find any traps either."

Bethlen looks up from where she's helping Gretchin out of the pool and copping a feel at the same time. "We like our traps to come with a bit more foreshadowing."

[Linguz]

And so Dardiana went up to the doors and simply opened them!

[Marlowe]

The doors swing aside without anything unpleasant happening, revealing a short black-tiled space just long enough to fit the length of the doors, and beyond that, a large circular chamber.

It appears to have a dome shaped roof, lit with a golden light rather brighter than the dimness of the pool, and is filled with ranks of tulips growing in curved beds, paths between them, their curve matching that of the walls. As the door is opened, their scent wafts over you.

The floor and the walls are made of irregular, oddly sculpted-looking grey stone, glinting slightly with reflective fragments imbedded in the rock. An obvious contrast from the black stoneware tiles you've seen so far.

There's a set of doors, shaped as a pointed arch, visible at the opposite side of the chamber. Their large handles gleam brazen under the golden light.

Also, someone appears to have recently dumped a rancid load of soiled laundry in the tulip-bed to the right of the "door". And a crumpled magazine lies in the middle of the main path between the flowerbeds.

[Linguz]

Dardiana takes risks and climbs along the wall to the magazine to examine its contents.

[Marlowe]

It is entitled "Halfings Half-Willing".

Not all the content described or illustrated strikes you as sane. Or safe. Or consensual.

Bethlen strides into the garden, fitting her amulet over her neck. The eyes of the snakes still glow a pale blue. She looks over Dardiana's shoulder at the magazine. There's a penetrating click as her teeth snap together, then she looks back over her shoulder. "Tiger, just between you and me; I'd really rather you didn't look at this one"

[Linguz]

Dardiana keeps the magazine in hand as she returns to the group. "Wonder if we'll get a prize if we collect each race's magazine."

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald reads the vellum again, before discreetly tucking it in his bag.
"Yes, very good. Very good."
Having finished his breakfast, he follows Dardiana and Bethlen through the door.
"Yes, I'm sure you'll open up all the hentai content once you gather the whole set. Uh... nevermind."

He quickly moves through the room, hands clasped behind his back.
"Wow, uh, nice flowers."
He kicks the clothes around a little, to see if they contain anything interesting.

[Marlowe]

The bundle of clothes are a sordid mess of dirty cullottes, tunics, and ragged woollen cloaks. As you disturb them there's a rank, unwashed smell, which doesn't quite overpower the surrounding scent of the tulips.

Bethlen puts a hand to her chin. "Not that I'm scorning the idea of revelation through completeness in the collection of erotica, but didn't your wizard pick up the Half-Elf one? And isn't he scribbly-bitching for Vierzehn right now?"

((Yes, I had time to read through the entire IC thread up to the point we got here. Other observations are that Kresta and Bethlen keep mentioning placenames I've yet to pin down, I make more typos than I'm happy with, and that my descriptions are very sparse. Either I overdid Expressionism at varsity or I'm just plain lazy

And tulips because tulips smell awesome.))

[mattie_p]

Grath looks around and says "What, no crazy walking on walls other than Dardiana? No bouncing tiles? What the *$%#@#$*?!@#$ is this?"

[Marlowe]

Delphi and Bethlen, wielding the poles, prod the walls and floors experimentally. "Everything seems solid and--normal"

"Including the wall we just came through." Bethlen taps the spot with her pole, making a metallic ringing. "Hope everybody took everything they were planning on bringing--Hello" She steps back smoothly as Gretchen and Nuisance step right though the wall in front of her. "The wall is no illusion, so I'm wondering how it's doing that".

"Hey! Trap!" Delphi calls from the doors on the other side of the room. "Actual Honest-to-Freya trap! A really obvious one two, just a simple poison needle job glued to the back of the left doorhandle. Not part of the original door. Looks like something added in haste fairly recently."

[mattie_p]

Grath brandishes his battle axe. "Would anyone be upset if Grath just smashes the door to bits? Or would Ashley Juggs and his friends hear?"

[Marlowe]

Delphi looks doubtful. "The lady with the black wings seemed sorta possessive of this place. Talked about us cleaning it up for her. I'd rather not risk her getting catty on us".

Bethlen looks at her amulet, with the blue glow still coming from the eyes of the snakes. "And we can't see her, but she's not gone."

"In any event, I've got this" There's a slight scratching of thieves tools and a gentle sprung and Delphi looks up."Done. And I hadn't managed it, the other half of the doorway is still untrapped."

Bethlen looks thoughful. "Why is he trapping the way OUT of a room that seems to have only one way IN? Is he expecting people to just appear out of nowhere? Like...The Empress did..." she trails off, apparently thinking she's just answered her own question.

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald kicks the clothes bundle one last time.Huh. Weird and disgusting."
To Bethlen's musings, he comments:
Who knows? And who cares? The guy's hiding in a transdimensionally lethal fort. He's bound to get paranoid."

He moves up to the door. "No more traps, Delphi?" he asks, before pulling the door open.

[u-b]

Gregor just follows the party, with bow in one hand and javelin in other hand. He does not attempt to think about the situation, but does check the room for any traces of former activity, in part wondering about type and amount of activity, in part about time it last occured.

Survival (Gregor, visual): [roll0]
Survival (Barry, scent): [roll1] +4*
Survival (Cherry, scent): [roll2] +4*
*racial when tracking by scent

[Marlowe]

Gregor finds little evidence that anyone who leaves traces spends a lot of time in here, but there are some men's footprints left on the stones where soil as drifted out of the flowerbeds. There's also evidence that some of the tupids have been pulled from their beds and then later replanted in the same place.

Throwing the doors open reveals a short corridor of grey, sculpted stone leading to a Y shaped intersection. the light on the left-hand path as a greenish glow. Standing before both branches are small wooden altars, a large silver holy symbol showing three pairs of angular wings sprouting from a central.

Standing rigt before the intersection is a skeleton in a red cloak. As soon as its red eyes see Thorwald, it turns and knocks over the left-hand altar.

The greenish light starts advancing out of the left corridor at a slow walking pace. As it washes over the skeleton, there's a sound like a rasping release of breath. The skeleton flies apart.

Within the green is a sense of movement.

Bethlen's eyes grow wide. "ADA", she says tonelessly.

her amulet glows a bright cherry red.

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald looks at the green light for a second, then at Bethlen.
"... Yeah, you got this."
He then deftly steps aside, hiding from the light by the doorway in the first room.

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin follows quietly holding Glenda in one hand and three "bronze" poles in the other.

[Marlowe]

The green light, a faint flicker of something stirring within it, continues to advance. It apparently can't make it past the second altar guarding the right-hand branch, but keeps flooding toward the tulip chamber, and you, at a slow pace.

Bethlen eyes are downcast, and she takes a long careful, slow step back. One arm snakes up to touch Horbin's shoulder and pull him back with her.

Delphi splutters "What?".

Bethlen says, quietly. "A bit of cunning there. And a very nasty thing to set up. I've got this? Thanks." She gives a frantic look around the chamber, the flowers, and the party and takes a deep breath.
"Maybe there's something I can do. Maybe" She closes her hands around the amulet. There's a sizzle and a sudden smell of scorched flesh. Her mouth jerks up slightly at the corners.

"Communing [requesting {pleading} urgently] through citizen-access Heartland Control distant farspeak. This Citizen [supplicant {child} in emergency] requests an immediate disconnect of this Guardian's [monster's{abomination's}] wartime directives [atrocious habits {the Sage's twisted game}] and powers and disjunction of shadow-realm [shrouding {status as unkillable}] power link" she begins.

Her voice appears to randomly slide through multiple different piches as she speaks.

[u-b]

Gregor nods, looks around for something that might be hiding third altar, because the party's obviously too late to go past the second. (assuming no signs of altar anywhare) Gregor puts away the bow, drops the javelin, draws a knife and starts digging where he have seen anything "replanted in the same place".

(Gregor plans to dig until he finds something, is told otherwise, Bethlen flies apart or anything of that sort)

[mattie_p]

Grath screws several of the poles together, trying to see if there is a button on the other side of the door to push to deactivate the green. search: [roll0]
disable device: [roll1]

[AshesOfOld]

"Keep you distance everyone!" Thorwald barks, somewhat nervously.
He backs away into the room to get a better visual of the situation.

[Linguz]

Dardiana backs until she's behind Bethlen anc begins to pray, to every and any deity out there. To others, she would look like she just sat down crosslegged. To anyone who could read her mind, they would hear her asking gods, celestials, fiends, the fey, and any other greater power for their help.

[Marlowe]

Delphi shrinks down behind Bethlen "ADA? What?"

Grath's pole clings against several of the grey walls without result; then passes into advancing the greenzone.

It distorts in a way metal should not, then splits down the first section, then that explodes in all directions, throwing sharp metal shrapnel pinging off the stone walls. A fragment moving too fast to see slices a red gash in Bethlen's cheek.

Bethlen continues chanting. If that's the word. "Ordering sealing [suppression{binding}] of emergency powers by authority vested begged, borrowed, stolen} by] Prime Gabriel-Philium Recaller [heirloom{matriheriot} artifact]".

The smell of burning is thick about her how. The advance of the green light, and the shifting movement within, suddenly shudders back and forth. There's a sound like a quiet screech of metal on metal.

"Authorised: Bruechlen. Hellebruech. Leithel. Vavasoura. Commence now [now{now}]". A sudden shaft of crimson energy blasts from between her hands into the green. Outlining a shape like a cone of darkness revolving slowly on its end. Black psuedopods, outlined in blood-red energy, are already unfolding from its topside and winding into the room.

"It worked. It's bound and vulnerable. Now DO SOMETHING!" Her hands are starting to smoke. "Quickly."

[Linguz]

Dardiana flashes her eyes open and jumps up. "I'll take that." She created a ball of bright green energy in her hand and flung it at the shape. "Attack the cone, yes?"

Attack: [roll0], Touch
Damage: [roll1], Untyped
Initiative: [roll2]

[Marlowe]

Delphi pops out behind Bethlen and winds up her sling. "Our People!" she shouts, and puts a stone toward the cone.

Attack [roll0] Damage [roll1]Skirmish[roll2]

Dardiana's attack misses the cone, but strikes through the red-limed tendril with a core of black that was lazily winding toward her. Even as you watch the psuedopod crumble into nothing, a replacement starts up from the top of the cone.

Delphi's stone hits the cone with a strange flash of blue, making a brief hole in its darkness for an instant. There's a sound like metal scraping together as the gap closes over. The stone can be heard to hit the wall on the opposite side of the creature.

Thorwald notices that the green light is no longer advancing.

Gregor finds a male fingernail, a little marked with dried blood, within the dirt in the flowerbed.

A psuedopod reaches out for Bethlen, but seems to be stopped by something. Bethlen's beginning to bleed at the nose and mouth.

[u-b]

If the stone seems to affect the whatever, Gregor begins shooting arrows at maximum rate.

He shoots only magical arrows, at point-blank range, until he sees a proof that a non-magical attack (like Delphi's stone) has its full effect. If and when he sees that (and does not see any evidence to contrary), he switches to normal arrows.

[roll0] for [roll1]
[roll2] for [roll3]
OR
[roll4] for [roll5]
[roll6] for [roll7]

THEN

[roll8] for [roll9]
[roll10] for [roll11]
OR
[roll12] for [roll13]
[roll14] for [roll15]

THEN

[roll16] for [roll17]
[roll18] for [roll19]
OR
[roll20] for [roll21]
[roll22] for [roll23]

[Marlowe]

((Let's end this.))

The magical arrows creat odd gaps in the swirling cone, which quickly close up, but the sound of metallic screeching increases in intensity.

Abruptly, the cone folds up into itself, the other tendrils retract, and the tendril directed at Bethlen suddenly becomes the whole of the thing. And lunges at frigtening speed at the center of Delphi's chest.

It strikes right through her, and then out her back into the back of her head.

Delphi's face and hands begin to distort and swell along the lines of her veins.

Bethlen takes a long, drunken step to one side and snaps the amulet's chain around Delphi's neck. "Tell them I gave it! Tell them what you heard! All of it!" and then shoves the amulet into the Halfling's chest.

Delphi, and the amulet, vanish in a blink, leaving a network of black lines, in the shape of a Halfling's circulatory system, that fades away into dust with a faint scream.

Bethlen drops to her knees, looking at her reddened and scorched palms.

The green light retreats, vanishing around the left hand corridor.

[Linguz]

Dardiana stared at the place that Delphi had been for a few moments before turning on Beth and shouting, "What happened to her!?"

[Marlowe]

((Sorry guys. Did not want to drag out a foregone conclusion. I don't normally do this.:smallfrown:))

"She's been shifted to Nether-Haranga", Bethlen says dully. "If she says the right things, which are a truthful things, she'll live. Which is better than having that thing puppet her and making us cut her to pieces. I wasn't expecting it to go like that so quickly."

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald looks around in confusion, then his eyes focus on the dust falling to the ground.
"She died. She died? She just..."
His knees suddenly start to tremble and Thorwald throws his hand up in front of his mouth.
He manages to hold whatever wants out, in, for the moment.

[Linguz]

((Its fine.))

"... What was that thing? You knew how to weaken it, so you know, right?" Dardiana drops to her knees, and balls up soon after.

[Marlowe]

Bethlen turns her head to one side and spits out a gobbit of blood into a tulip-bed. "She's not dead. And I don't think she'll die if she says what I told her. Of course-" she coughs explosively, sending a splatter of blood onto the floor. "I won't pretend that the chances of you seeing her again are very high. And I'm sorry."

"That was an Active Defence Agent. ADA. The Warped Sage's little contribution to the sum of worldy terror. I was able to shut down most of it--" cough, blood. "Which I technically should not be able to do. My Recaller is old enough to fake a higher command rank. That's why it frells me up so much when the Local Genius talks: he thinks I'm stronger than I am. He shouts"

"Their usual mode of operation isn't physical combat. They aren't even properly part of this plane. They usually just teleport their victims into isolation, mindrape them into giving up their worst fears and secrets, and then torture them with illusions. Until they've had their fun and just drain them dry."

She stands up, wiping off her face with the back of a seared hand. "We don't know how to make them anymore and nobody cares>"

[mattie_p]

"Bethlen, drink this." Grath opens his pouch and hands her a potion of cure light wounds. "Sorry poles blew up in your face. Seemed like the thing to do at the time."

[Marlowe]

"Thank you, Tiger. And no apologies required. It wasn't the worst idea." Bethlen swigs the potion in a gulp, and seems to stand a little straighter. She works her hands back and forth into fists. "No nerve, tendon damage. Just pain. That's good. I can deal with pain." Then she sighs.

"Also, since I gave the thing to her, and assuming she doesn't try to be tricky and get herself turned into fertiliser, this makes her my niece. This is going to be awkward".

[Linguz]

"I don't even want you to explain that. Shall we keep going, then? Can't make her teleportation be in vain, after all." Dardiana quickly stood up and solidified her resolve, to not cry and to keep going forward.

[u-b]

"Funny thing - they withdrew, but somehow I do not believe we can just walk ahead knocking all the altars and letting these things in the green deal with the intruder. How is it so that we can have one, but cannot have the other? Or... we can?"

[Marlowe]

Bethlen, still bloody around the nose and lips, looks at you oddly. "I'm not sure I understand the question. My thoughts are these.

"The Lieutenant would have the command authority to restrict the ADAs to certain areas."

"This being done, the interloper set the altars up-cough-probably under the Lieutenant's direction. To contain them while her attention is elsewhere."

"It appears, he set up an extra altar on the right passage, so that he could have the left-hand altar destroyed-cough- if anything came out of here, and set the ADA on us"

"It appears we were lucky, there was only one in that area. At least, I hope so, and that another's not heading for us now. Slowly and casually, as they do."

"The green light's keyed to the ADAs, not the ADAs to the light"

"I've lost the Recaller. I've got nothing against them now. If there's another coming, we all die in the dark"

"Unless of course, we all move to the right-hand passage now and get ourselves behind an intact altar."

[Linguz]

Dardiana went to the alter and passed it, then called back, "Then what are you waiting for, then?"

[Marlowe]

Bethlen looks grim. "Tiger, Gretchen", the dark woman still looks shocked at what happened so soon. "We head right. Don't touch the altars."

Dardiana find the right-hand branch leading into another short corridor. In front, without doors, is an open chamber with tables in the middle, and bookcases in evidence.

Many of the books are strewed on the ground, and pages are torn.

On the left wall next to her, the words. "No, YOU get out." have been scrawled in an unidentifiable substance.

[Linguz]

Dar ignores the strange words and ventures deeper into the area, to the bookcases. She checked each book cover and searched the room. For what? Anything that could help, magazines, and anything of interest.

Search: [roll0] then 13, spending 12 seconds on each 5by5 foot square before going to the next one.

[Marlowe]

The books have covers in red and black leather, and many have had pages torn out and scattered on the floor.

Across their covers and across their bindings, and across the ripped shreds on the floor, you read words scrawled onto their original content in a strange overlarge hand, in clumsy, recent inks;

"You cannot move me!"

"I can see you turning the corner when I turn the other, I see you in the corners of my eyes, I see the shadow of your wings above my bed, I hear you breath in my ears saying ""Get Out", Well, I won't."

" "You're a ghOst. A GhoSt. A gHOsT. And yOu cAn't ScaRe mE""

"This PlaCe Is MiNe SHe GaVE IT to Me. HeRR! YouRs!"

[Linguz]

Dar whistles and calls out, "Hey! There's writing on top of writing and no erotica in here! Get over here!"

[Marlowe]

((There probably is erotica if you look hard enough))

The bookcases run around the walls, except where single doors, composed a coppery looking metal inset with jet, break them up on the walls on either side of the way you entered.

Bethlen enters a little unsteadily. "No erotica? What? stoops to pick up a book awkwardly by the unburnt sides of her hands. Her eyes narrow. "Chronology of the Abberancy War" by Kershaw. Ancient volume, and he's scribbled all over it."

[mattie_p]

Grath remains outside the book room. "Nothing personal, but Grath does not want to be around if we encounter more green or ADA. Hurry"

Grath knows he cannot read enough to see what is going on in the library, so he scouts down the hallway a little ahead of the room.

[Linguz]

Dardiana goes back to looking after she calls for people, having probably not checked each book. She's piling them into neat stacks as she checks their cover and contents, still looking for a piece of the Erotica of the Races. "I really do believe we'll get a prize for collecting, or at least finding, all the erotica."

[Marlowe]

((Taking some liberty with that post I'm sorry))

Taking a peek around the left-hand corridor, Grath sees a stairway down to a wide open chamber, more dimly lit than most. The floor has a checkerboard pattern, and humanoid statues are scattered, as far as you can see, randomly across it. Most take the form of humans of other genders in odd martial paraphenalia.

Somewhat more importantly, green light is spreading across the floor towards him.

There's a slight scrape of metal on stone as Gretchen, behind Grath, picks something up from the wreck of the left-hand altar. "Ow, sharp!".

It's a steel icon, showing three sets of wings jackniving out from a central ovoid set with a glossy black stone. "Orc, I think we should make for the library now."

As Dardiana stacks the books, the titles she notices are "The Liber of the Captains", "The Records of Humanity's descent", and "The Hate of a Million Swords". The titles start to blend in after a while.

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald follows Dardiana in silence, hands clasped by his back.

As Bethlen reads the title of "Chronology of the Abberancy War" out loud, Thorwald's interest is peaked.
He waits discreetly for her to discard the book, before picking it up, looking it over, and stuffing it in his pack.

He continues to search for titles that could have interesting information about the Abberancy and the Administrate.
Search [roll0]

[mattie_p]

"Gretchen, how far away was last altar? It was just on floor, right? Grath thinking, need to start carrying around an altar. Think Grath can pick it up in time before the green gets here?"

Grath turns and goes back to the library, warning of the inbound threat and sharing his idea.

[Marlowe]

Bethlen gets a sudden wild look. "Tiger. Don't. Touch. The Frelling. Altars. If there's another coming down the left hand branch, we should be safe in here." She gestures to the altar already in place down the corridor. "Unless somebody frells with something I don't really understand"

The "Chronology of the Abberancy War" is long and dry in places, horrific in others. It as an odd shell-shocked tone, as though the writer had memories of the events themselves.

As far as you can tell, the Abberency first appeared in "Arthiam", a land that, according to some of the endless maps the book is stuffed with, is the same as modern Yamighul. The land was fertile then, but sparsely settled mainly by isolated communities of goatherds, and it took some time before the neighbouring kingdoms of the time to notice that something was turning the people of the land into malevolent puppets.

Once it was realised, some poor decisions were made. Mass armies were sent against the Parts and became as them enmasse. An army of puppets, still with some of the skills they had in life, began to flood across the continent, infecting those they approached and adding to its mass. Only the strongest-willed were immune, and at the early stages many of those fell fighting without knowing what.

It took some time for the nations of Humanity (aside from some fairly slighting references to the Fey, there is no mention of other humanoid races) to put together a common front. When they did, regular armies were useless. Only the strongest individuals could be relied on to make a difference. Any gap in the line meant another advance for the Abberancy, more warm bodies to make its own. Cities were destroyed in numbers as they became infected, or even beforehand to prevent this. As the war continued many retreated to the western isles (the Administrate islands are referred to by name, but the term never comes up in the book) or to the landmass now known as the Union. It doesn't appear that the Parts had much skill at sea, although naval battles are sometimes mentioned they are always one-sided.

It appears that a stalemate, going on for over a decade, was eventually met with the entire mainland falling to the Abberancy, the northern refugees keeping to themselves, and the westerners "drawing strength from whatever plane or world could be reached" to arrange a reconquest. This took the form of establishing massively magically defended installations from which the remaining western humans, now accustomed to magical war, could sally out and destroy all Parts within the nearby area. Given that all Parts were originally Humans, this led to the deaths of millions.

Eventually, this strategy led to the utter desolation and depopulation of the continent, and a five year siege of Arthiam which saw it blasted down to magma in places, in order to seal the "rents to the Far Realms" from which the Abberency had come.

An individual named The Empress of Midnight, together with her "Guardian Knights", figures prominently in many of the battle accounts. Her name is never given.

EDIT: Ahhh...critical success on a search check! My only weakness!

Other titles you find of some interest include, "Years of no history: The Annals of the Repopulation", "The Captains, The Knights, and The Children of the Warped Sage", and "I was a teenage weapon of mass destruction".

None of the books use the term, "Administrate", though it seems the names of their islands haven't changed much. Most of the other placenames in all the books are completely strange to you.

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin will move as Bethlen does, giving her something to grab onto if she gets faint. "This is troublesome. Either he wants us to be moved away from him or he is moving us toward him, but hopefully we'll know which soon."

[Marlowe]

"Think rather he was hoping for us to die." mutters Bethlen.

Gretchen is holding up what she picked up from the toppled left-branch altar. A metal Holy symbol showing six angular wings coming from a central hub. ""This remind anyone of any...anybody? Also, the edges are sharp"

[Linguz]

Dardiana looks up in her quest for the Erotica of the Races and looks at the holy symbol. She speaks to her fey, Remind you of anything?

Religion: [roll0]

[Marlowe]

Dardiana
"Wings that look like knifes? That are sharp? Core of Darkness? How about the Well-mannered Lady we just met?"

[Linguz]

Thought as much. Just wanted to be sure. Dardiana looks through a few more books before replying, "Looks to be of the god we saw not that long ago, who teleported us. Unless some other god has a holy symbol that is her wings."

[Marlowe]

Oh, and more...for Dardiana.
Yes, there are some books with an Erotic feel to their titles and covers. Most of them are complicated dramas or romances with a lot of violence and sarcasm. They're also almost all about humans, although:

You come across a slim red volume with spiky text and lush pen-and-ink drawings. It is entitled "My Life With a Nymph. And Most Unfortunately Her Sisters Too."

"OOH, Filthy! Can we keep it?"

[Linguz]

Dardiana slips that book into her backpack. Of course. Why do you think I'm looking? I need something to do when we're done here, and reading these things is going to be on my list.

:smallbiggrin: I knew you wouldn't disappoint.

[stanleyindraven]

"I would guess not," Horbin chimes in. He then looks to see if there is a pattern in the books that have been torn asunder.

[mattie_p]

"Saw same symbol a while ago, when all entered the weird walking on walls tunnel for first time and learned every way was down. Small table? Grath told Thorwald."

[Marlowe]

"Empress of Midnight" says Bethlen suddenly. "The Bringer of Silence is a scythe crossed with a lightning bolt--like this" she produces a slim black-leather volume with a clasp of such a device. "The Starlight Destroyer is a Star...oddly enough, and a spear. Et Cetera. We don't try to be too abstract with Holy Symbols. The Captains are generally stern critics."

[u-b]

Other titles you find of some interest include, "Years of no history: The Annals of the Repopulation", "The Captains, The Knights, and The Children of the Warped Sage", and "I was a teenage weapon of mass destruction".
upd: And these too.
As Dardiana stacks the books, the titles she notices are "The Liber of the Captains", "The Records of Humanity's descent", and "The Hate of a Million Swords". The titles start to blend in after a while.

Since Dardiana does not seem to be taking these books, Gregor takes them. He also makes a quick scan of the area the party is currently in.

Survival:
Gregor (sight): [roll0]
Barry (scent): [roll1]
Cherry (scent): [roll2]

[AshesOfOld]

Hmm... interesting." Thorwald muses to himself, flicking through the pages, before putting the book in his pack, along with "Years of no history: The Annals of the Repopulation", "The Captains, The Knights, and The Children of the Warped Sage", and "I was a teenage weapon of mass destruction" for later perusing.
How much do they weigh?

[Marlowe]

(The books weight 2lbs each))

The dogs detect humanoid scent, not that recent, heading toward the door to the south (you entered from the west) wall.

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin will look to the dogs.

[mattie_p]

Grath says, "Well, if Grath should not carry or move altars, then all need to hide in book room until green passes by while altar protects us."

Grath looks perplexed, then starts muttering to himself, "Magic altars protect group from green. Magic talks to people. Magic makes clothes fit. Magic paper talks to Ingva. Magic zaps people to Alnwizk two days away. Magic makes people walk on walls. Magic zaps group to pool while giving visions of cute orc girl. Grath does not like zapping magic. No. Well, orc girl not so bad."

[stanleyindraven]

"Either that, or we can all charge to our doom trying to lead the green to Mr. Invasion of the 'Magical Place'," Horbin snickers.

[u-b]

"Err... not so fast. If we all die and you live - of course, run here and kick the damn alter. But... not yet. It would be unfortunate if we encounter something like a closed door with one more alter behind it."

[mattie_p]

"Grath wonders if all should find out how strong green creatures are. Hide behind altar and poke green thing with sharp sticks and swords until it dies or goes away?"

[Linguz]

"Bad idea. Something tells me that thing will break your sword and sticks. We could throw some books at it, I guess. As long as they're not the type of books I want."

[stanleyindraven]

"Could throw a skin magazine at them, see if they are as interested as you," Horbin pipes up.

[Linguz]

"Please; those things aren't normal enough to even be able to do anything with them. Anyway, I need those."

[mattie_p]

"Don't steal Grath's picture book. No words for learning to read, but fun to read anyway. Has Ingva paper talked back lately? Grath should write message to Ingva."

[u-b]

Having nothing better to do, Gregor unfolds the Magic Map™ and examines it for any possible change.

[Marlowe]

No changes to Ingva's map as yet. ((It's only been a few days, but I should have done something more about that by now. I've been distracted by RL issues))

Bethlen stands up. Her face is still bleeding down one side and the palms of her hands remain scorched. "Don't tempt fate. Please, You People. What I did--only worked by blind luck. And I can't do it again. The Recaller's gone with the She-hobbit. Well, I never expected it to work in here anyway. So I suppose that worked out."

Gretchen give her a long, hard stare. "Oh yes; you put her on a trip to Haranga. So that works out?"

Bethlen just stares back. "Better than letting that thing get ahold of her".

[mattie_p]

Grath looks around for an empty (or mostly) empty book he can use to practice his writing.Take 10 on search equals 11, if we have enough time he will take 20 for 21.

[Marlowe]

Grath finds a large, loose volume of pages that show bewildering scrawlings of curved lines, dots, bizarre patterns and symbols and words he doesn't recognise, with large areas of white between the aforesaid features.

DC10 Int check for anyone to recognise it as a book of military maps, now massively out of date

As he pulls it from the shelf, he dislodges an object shoved to the back of the shelves that has become tangled in its binding. It falls to the floor. It appears to be a spiked whip with a black handle and a lash of fine copper-coloured wire.

Bethlen looks at it very blankly, then takes a single step way from it. "Older than I thought, this place. Older than is safe."

(This was supposed to go up for Xmas but our home internet couldn't get me into the playground:smallfrown:)

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin will walk over and take a closer look at the whip without touching it. "What, you don't like whips," he will jest over his shoulder at Bethlen.

[mattie_p]

Grath peeks out the door, looking to see when the green ADA will appear, warning others when it gets closer.

[roll0]

"Grath likes new book, should help practice writing. Pictures look like Ingva's map, but plenty of space for writing. Now to see when ADA appears."

[Marlowe]

The green light appears to be held at the altar back down the way you have come. As Grath watches, there's a sense of movement within the green. A slightest shimmer in the air. There's the faintest sound like metal scraping against metal, but distorted an echoed.

The whip is both highly decorative and rather vicious-looking. Its handle is inlaid with what looks like silver in an angular pattern of forking and rejoining lightning-bolts. Its lash as has a brazen, metallic sheen, but coils like leather.

As you watch, the handle starts to rock back and forth gently on the floor, though nobody is touching it.

Bethlen's teeth are bared. "That's no stockyard utility or fetish toy. That's a favoured weapon of the Broken Matriarch. Nobody's carried one of those since...about the time this place was abandoned. Not since the War of the Sage's Treason. Not since She was cast out from the Captains. Rather forcefully."

She draws herself up full and doesn't take her eyes of the lash. "I wouldn't pick it up. Tiger, stop staring into the green; it'll do you nothing good. Is anyone going to try the doors? The gods seem to like the south one."

[stanleyindraven]

"Guess I will," Horbin says as he walks to the south door and attempts to open it, slowly.

[u-b]

Gregor lets people do stuff, avoids staring into the green, keeps his dogs well away from both the green and the whip, and remains ready to help Horbin in case there's anything alive behind south door.

[Linguz]

Dardiana gets slightly closer to the whip and crouches. She looks at it and, between blinks, activates her innate ability to see magic. "My guess is that it's cursed. Don't know why, but I do." When she's got the whip's aura in her sights, she tries to determine what school or schools of magic it's full of.

Spellcraft: [roll0]
DC to determine is 15+SpellLevel or 15+0.5*CasterLevel, if it's not a spell.
So up to spell level 3 or caster level 6.

[mattie_p]

Grath blinks, having been partially transfixed by the shifting green hues.

"Uhh, which way is south again? That way? Grath lost all sense of direction ages ago, when bouncing through tunnels."

Grath moves to stand next to Gregor, lightly patting Cherry on the head as he waits, axe in his hands.

[Marlowe]

Dardiana. The whip has a very strong and distinctly disturbing aura. Your fey does not feel happy to be looking at it.

You detect divination (at least, a sort of divination. Seems oddly inverted.) and evocation; but mostly of the aura appears divine rather than arcane, and a lot harder to analyse with what the wicked witch of the west keeps referring to as mage-sight.

As Dardiana stares at the whip, it turns around on the floor, presenting its handle to her.

Then Bethlen slams the end of one of the metallic poles down upon it with a vicious two handed swipe. A sudden coil of what looks like lightning sparks from the object and seems to try working its way up the pole, but doesn't conduct."We have her attention. Let's not stand around in it. Sworder, careful"

Horbin find the south door open into stark blackness. He's conscious of a strong breeze before him, rising up before his face. No details are visible.

Cherry gives a woof. It echoes.

((Good question. Relative to the way you entered the room, south is the RIGHTwall door. North is the LEFT wall door. The east wall is covered in books and doesn't have a door. I'll be more careful with these things in future))

[Linguz]

[b]Knowledge: Religion [roll0]
Knowing things about the whip and who she might be.

Dardiana is snapped out of her trance with the aura when the pole slams down on it. Her magesight goes away and she picks herself up. Do you know what that was? Who she is?

[stanleyindraven]

"Heeded," Horbin responds. He then stands in a ready position with both hands on hilt. "Shall we?"

[Marlowe]

Dardiana:"I don't know what to say. I was not old enough. And those that are, like Vaelva down in the river; stayed hidden. But we say there was one amongst them, back then, that held a whip. She did not lead; but made her daughter do so, and laughed while the cities burned.

"And the others, though one smiled, did not did so. Though it was the rest that did most of the burning.

"And then there was a falling out. And they don't talk much about her anymore. Even the daughter"

"Sworder! Caution!" Bethlen swings the pole again and drives the whip hard against the bookcases, them moves next to Horbin, smelling strongly of blood, ozone, and sweaty leather as she sweeps the pole amongst the floor and ceiling of the opening. "Ceiling present. Floor, absent. Opposite wall, can't reach. Tiger. Get over here. I can't see in the dark."

[stanleyindraven]

Horbin stands before the doorway, not moving.

[Linguz]

Dardiana approaches the group and says, "I've got an idea. Step aside." Once some people (preferably all) did, she launched a spear into the corridor, going for distance. Which means 250 feet. The elongated sphere of green fire would hopefully light up the area with its green flames.