Divine Truths (IC)

[AmberVael]

The night after the first day of the Culling is dark and cold, the stars showing as distant, cruel white motes that unflinchingly stab down at the land with rays of light. They trace along the pathways of the city that surrounds Moraei's first temple, sliding along it like fingers over chill marble, craftsman's touch along fine workmanship... trace along like glass fingers over cloth... like metal blades over bare, exposed flesh, not quite piercing the skin, but drawing it taught, fear pulsing with each movement. Dreadful anticipation wells up, terror rising and stealing through every piece until it seems like you can barely contain it-
A dull gray moon arc into the sky slowly, describing an inevitable motion. Its light casts an eerie glow over everything, a shimmering haze that taints the air. It hovers over everything, a miasma, a cloud- incense? Something about your eyes? You can't tell, but the uncertainty only sharpens the looming horror as the silver shape rises, the gleam of a blade as it arcs up and then back down towards your chest, closer, closer, fast and yet slowly, slicing down and down until it nicks you and blood begins to spurt as it goes deeper-
The fountain in the center of the temple sprays water into the air in glistening waves, eternally flowing out and drawing back in. It's cycle runs on and on, the water flowing endlessly into the fountain and jetting out of it. In the light it glitters darkly, drops thick and crimson spilling into and endless sea that roars as it rages around you until finally it draws you into its warm depths and silence reigns, blessed, final silence. The fear, the pain, the dread are all gone. Nothing is left but a sense of connectedness, a subconscious feeling of belonging... but slowly, that too becomes something more. As awareness spreads slowly outwards, pain comes back, that sense of horror returns. But now, a thousand eyes watch the blade, countless pulses flutter erratically, all immortal, all endless and yet changing, shifting in and out like the flow of the water in the fountain. Slowly the feeling grows, getting stronger and stronger, more overwhelming and strange and terrible, until it can no longer be contained, but strains outwards and expels itself.
A scream is pulled from the throat of Cassandra Cagliostro as her strange, oracular vision reaches its climax and wakes her, a scream that echoes through her chamber in the temple and winds its way to her faithful guardian's ears. No doubt Agamemnon's sense of duty will bring him to her soon... though what use would a blade be against the horror of a dream, a dream from the eyes of a goddess, a goddess so strange that nightmare is but a facet of her reality, an edge of a mirror.

The edge of a blade.
Agamemnon's eyes snap open to the sight of a sword being drawn from a sheathe. A man dressed in black, swathed in the cloth and barely visible in the night stands ready to fight him, keeping him from going immediately to the side of Cassandra. Seeing him awaken, the man darts back, bringing his sword up defensively, leaving Agamemnon the one instant he needs to pick up his spear and stand. Tension hangs between them, ready to be severed by the clash of their weapons.
"Your little mistress is probably being gutted right now. But don't think you can just run to her- you'll have to get through me first."
The man seems cruelly smug, no doubt smiling behind the black mask that covers most of his face. Cassandra's screaming seems to delight him, to drive him to break the silence and goad her bodyguard.
"And the only way you're getting past me is in pieces, freak."
He grins and raises his free hand, and Agamemnon can see blood flowing from it, trickling down his arm. The cut is neat and clean, likely made by the man's own sword.
"First blood. Next will be yours..."
A drop of his blood slips from his hand and goes down, down through the air...

...the blood stains the floor now, the crimson ritual circle darkened to a flaky black by the strange, magical energies that Morana had channeled. The dead goat which had provided the necessary components for the ritual is still warm to the touch as a worker pledged to the service of Babde takes it away for her, dealing with it in a way that could not be done with the answer to her ritual.
Pain and pleasure. Weal and woe. Yes and no. So the ritual said to her question.
"What will tomorrow's Culling hold for me?"
The answer, though vague, was more subtle than one might think. It wasn't just that it would be good and bad, Morana could tell, it was that it would be a turning point. It was not a combination, but a change, a change to an end that could not be determined, only that it could lead either way. The response, though simple, had contained power that she had not expected. The flaky black blood was not a usual side effect of the ritual- normally the blood remained as it was. Normally, she could not feel the working of the power as it drew on the eldritch formula of her ritual.
But this time, she had.
Who knows what the future would hold? Only that it was something greater than she might expect... something powerful. Morana could feel the crossroads at her feet, a choice for her. On one path lay relative safety, to flee from this unknown and never look back. But on the other was a confusing blackness that could not be penetrated, yet seductive in the power that it held. Terrifying, enticing, and pathless.

A path to be tread alone.
Soft, blinking and flashing lights hung in the air, toyed with by gentle harmonic sounds that slowly turned discordant as Fernalia's thoughts turned to her deceased parents, and her lack of guidance. Unable to sleep with the Culling so near, their deaths on her minds, reminded of her own mortality, Fernalia had gone to a small chapel dedicated to Machei, and was listening to the dark chanting of the worshipers as they called to their goddess. They chant in a language she does not understand, though she recognizes it as one the languages of the fiends, used often in the worship of Moraei.
"Fernalia Drake?"
A young messenger of Machei had moved quietly up behind her, and was offering a scroll out to her. He looked down at his feet as he spoke.
"Second priest Ochelo had this sent to you. I believe it is a summons for your first test of the Culling."

"...what do you think of the Culling, Vienne?"
The Voice, Yvelle asks of her servant, her voice low and quiet. Despite her softness, the sound magnifies in the catacombs where she is most often found, working over the corpses of so many who have been interred. She brushes over the skull of one with thin, spidery fingers, drawing those slim digits upwards as if drawing something from the long dead form.
"It's purpose, of course, is to keep the temple strong, and to weed out the weak.
"What do you think of that?"
Yvelle's questions were never simple. Vienne knew that even if she did not understand it now, or ever, there was always some underlying motive for her asking, or perhaps even another motive beneath the second. Yvelle was like a spider working many threads at a time, catching her prey wherever she wanted to.
What with being with the corpses of sacrifices, and those who had failed the culling, or died in service to the temple, perhaps her question took on a slightly different tone. Became more morbid.
What do you think of those who died, perhaps. Or who knows, maybe there was something beyond that...

Okay, so I know I made a lot of this really vague, that the writing is a strange style, but this was an experiment. Expect things to be a bit more structured and defined from now on.

As it is, the situation stands as follows:
Cassandra woke up screaming after having a creepy nightmare from Moraei's point of view. She is in her chambers in the First Temple, which I would view as being anything from moderately large to large, and likely well decorated to her taste.

Agamemnon woke up after hearing Cassandra's scream, and is being assaulted by an unknown enemy. Agamemnon is on his feet and has his spear, but is otherwise without equipment. He is either in his room (which could be nearby and separate of Cassandra's room, or a sort of connected room), or possibly he could just be sleeping in the hallway. I think he probably has his own room, but that's Whiplord's choice.

Morana is in a small room used for sacrifices and magics that she often frequents to create rituals in. Her latest ritual, an augury (which she used the life of a goat to create without taking up a ritual slot, Snark), revealed that her culling tomorrow will be both good and bad for her.

Fernalia is on the temple grounds, but outside of the main temple, listening to chanters. She is being summoned by Second Priest Ochelo to her first of three tests for the Culling. (A Second Priest is not, as one might guess, the right hand of a First priest. While a Second Priest is ranked just under a First Priest, there are quite a few Second Priests- about ten per First Priest). Ochelo is a rather nasty, scheming little man who is above Fernalia (though she'd much rather him not be).

Vienne is in the catacombs, having been summoned by Yvelle. They're talking right now, but knowing Yvelle, Vienne is about to get involved in some project or scheme.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fernalia Drake

The chanting of the worshipers always calms Fern--when she could hear them above her poltergeist at least. Listening to them like this always presents her with a conundrum: her lack of knowledge of the infernal and abyssal tongues keeps her from understanding the words to the chant. Should she learn the language and come to understand the chants literally but risk robbing them of their unfamiliar beauty, or remain ignorant of the word's while preserving the mystique of them?

Of course, tonight, with the Culling nearing, more troubling thoughts plague her mind. She silently reassures herself that she is stronger than her parents--they took pains to see to that. Concerns about Ochelo go through her mind as well.

She starts in surprise as the messenger approached behind her, but the distraction is welcome. "Yes?", she says in a soft treble, turning to face the young man as he states her name. After he says his due, she raises an eyebrow and mutters, "So soon? Intriguing." She accepts the scroll, smiles at the messenger, and says, "Thank you. If that is all, you may leave." Once he is gone, she will read the scroll quietly, moving to a private place if there are others who might observe her about.

Do you want me to describe the random lights and sounds from her flaws, or should I leave that to you?

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassadra awakens, shaking from the vision. She looks around, shivering.

Did I just dream that I had screamed? I must have, if I truly had screamed Agamemnon would have come.

She slows her breathing and notices the pain in her throat.

Did I scream after all... no, Memni would be here.

She closes her eyes, imagining his arms wrapping around her, keeping her safe. She smiles then, one of her favorite imaginings taking over, where he does more than just hold her...

If only.

She sighs, then dutifully, she picks up the small book by her bedside and a quill and begins writing down the salient points of her vision. Since her confirmation as an oracle she has carried out this requirement, occasionally submitting her journal for the high priests to examine.

It's almost time for a new book, this one is almost full.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon awakens to the scream. Another nightmare. He can tell by the timbre of it. He sighs inwardly at the fact that she has had enough nightmares for him to tell that well.

Oh, and there was a man in black, too.

Agamemnon backs a small step away, bringing his spear to bear, beginning to circle slightly, watching the man carefully. Although he was worried for Cassandra, he was more in a hurry to make sure she was alright after her nightmare. Despite the man's words, Cassandra could almost certainly take care of herself against someone as foolish as this one.

"Foolish little man." He starts in Common.

Shifting more, a twitch to feint the man. "Shouldn't have woken me up...." switching to Elven.

Another shift. "I'll eat you alive, little man." In Draconic now

A grin spreads across his face. "I will see you burn, for thinking of touching Cassandra." Now Abyssal. "Burn!" In Infernal.

A step forward. "I will bury you under rock, alive to be crushed for all eternity." Dwarven.

The grin slips to a snarl. He leans forward, his full 7 feet 5 inches towering over the man. "The torture will last long, I think, little man." Now in Gnomish.

Finally lunging forward. "All for the glory of our god." Celestial.


I thought that would be fun.

Okay, one attack, using Decisive Strike. I'm going to assume he's in 20ft of me, ha.

[roll0]+11 (6 BAB, 5 STR, 1 magic weapon, 1 WF, -2 Decisive Strike)
[roll1]+[roll2]+7 (5 STR, 1 magic weapon, 1 WF)*2

I'll get something nicer in this space for the next post.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne Devareaux

Vienne never was fond of the catacombs, despite Yvelle's penchant for them. It wasn't the fact or existence of the dead, nor was it the sights and smells of rotting flesh. It was simply that they were dirty. She was always careful to not touch anything more than absolutely necessary, and to wash her feet clean again once she was allowed to depart. She stood now near her mentor, the silks of her attire rustling softly with every slight movement she made. She takes a moment to consider the question, but only a moment-- she had learned that her mentor preferred an honest answer instead of what she thought Yvelle wanted to hear. "I think it's become corrupted, mistress. I have seen many plans to fell a rival set in motion with the intent to culminate during the Culling. Yet the priests always speak of the Culling as a test between the individual and the goddess. If that is the case, then such plans interfere with the will of Moraei. Not that I am opposed to those machinations-- I enjoy being involved in them to some extent or another. But to use the Culling as an excuse seems-- inappropriate." She shrugs, the motion setting a rustling ripple along the colorful scarves that make up her clothing. "Strength comes in many forms, mistress, and while one cannot be strong in all ways, the cunning learn to place themselves in situations where their weaknesses can be strengths. If one cannot do so, then one's weaknesses will be exploited." She hesitates for the space of three breaths then adds, "Do you intend to instruct me differently, mistress? I've noticed you rarely ask a question to no purpose."

(Description for the benefit of the other players:
She is quite obviously part-fey, with her long silver hair, very faintly greenish tinged skin, and ice-blue eyes. What she wears, is not so much a shirt and skirt as is it an array of sashes draped about her body which leave little to the imagination and are easy to remove. She reveals a lot of skin, particularly around her middle and back; her feet go bare. She has numerous bracelets, anklets, rings, necklaces, and bangles adorning her body. While it may be unusual for people to go openly armed in the temple, her attire gives her no place to conceal a weapon, so she chooses to flaunt them instead. A long dagger with a black hilt is strapped to one calf, and a finely woven whip hangs at one hip. Her hair is long, hanging well past her waist when down, although it's often coiled or pinned in some elaborate manner that's both attractive and exotic. Her elven ears are usually quite noticeable, regardless of her hair style. She has an elaborate red knotwork tattoo running around the outside of her right eye in a crescent pattern.)

[The_Snark]

Morana

It was a risk.

Morana hated risks; she always had. She didn't mind danger so much, but to her mind they were two very different things. Danger was risk, but without the element of the unknown that made it so dangerous. A known risk could be looked at, it could be avoided, it could be planned for; it could be strapped down and dissected until it was devoid of, well... risk. Danger was unavoidable; something as simple as blacksmithing was dangerous, but all the dangers were known and avoided. Someone who didn't know how to safely forge, say, a sword would be taking a terrible risk trying to do it.

Unfortunately, it was a promising risk. A reading was normally a simple thing, and when it was not, it was always vague or inconclusive, not like... this. She can't help but think that it is a gift from the goddess; this was the First Temple, not Shorhol's small church, and it was natural that she paid it more attention. Besides, it was like the goddess: Moraei didn't dole out power, whatever some lickspittles thought. She gave opportunities.

Put like that, it would be hard to convince herself to pass it up. The Culling was never optional, of course, but it was always possible to arrange an... alternative method of success. Remove the examiner, and usually no-one objected, at least not enough to take action.

As the servant leaves the room, she considers, standing and looking down at the blood-stained circle. She needs sleep for tomorrow; she also wants to find out more of her Culling. Just because she knew it could bring both risk and reward didn't mean she should relax and assume it would be without effort. The goddess's gifts could kill.

It was late, though; not the hour to be seeking out other priests to probe them, especially as she was an outsider to the First Temple. It was sometimes convenient to be an outsider, but mostly it was frustrating; no connections, no influence, little respect. Sleep, then, she decides—for a while; she will rise early, and begin her preparations then.

[AmberVael]

-Cassandra-

The silence of the night hangs peacefully over the Oracle's room as she writes down her vision. Surely if something were wrong- if she had screamed- Agamemnon would be there by now. Calm settles slowly, resting over the scene like a blanket.
But perhaps not for long.
"Cassandra..."
Whispers a voice. It sounds so close by, as well. Something about it seems strangely... off. She can't quite tell what is wrong with it.
"Do you know what you see, Cassandra?"
Ah. Cassandra knew what was wrong with the voice now. It wasn't real. It was illusory, but surely it was created by someone. Maybe if she could figure out what kind of spell was putting it there...
"Can you see with the blood in your eyes?"

You can make a spellcraft check to try and identify the spell, and if you want, a listen check to hear where the voice was coming from.

-Agamemnon-

The man is stabbed heavily in his side, and he hisses, but rolls forwards smoothly, nimbly avoiding Agamemnon's spear and leaving him no opening to attack. He slips in, raising his sword, and though Agamemnon readies to bat the thin blade aside, he finds a dagger slammed home into his leg instead. Apparently his opponent is trickier than he appears.
Blood flows freely from Agamemnon's wound, trickling to the ground as his opponent raises his sword defensively, watching his every movement.

It is debatable whether Tumble bypasses Thicket of Blades, but if it didn't, this wouldn't be a fight. So we're going for what is most exciting.

A nasty Flick of the Wrist sneak attack deals 21 damage.

-Morana-

Morana moves off to her room to rest for the night, but finds her way blocked by someone sitting cross legged, eyes closed, in front of her door. The man is almost the perfect picture of a Buddhist monk- dressed only in a light robe, bare armed and bald headed. His crimson robe stretches over his thin body strangely, draping like skin over bone. Morana has never seen this person in the temple before, though she has seen a few dressed like him- she doesn't know what they are though.
"Sister Morana of the following of Babde?"
Asks the man quietly as he opens his eyes and looks up at her placidly, like an animal that has been tamed and beaten into submission, uncaring about whatever happens to it. Clearly he's not a superior... he's probably just a servant.

-Fernalia-

The messenger scurries off without a backwards glance, dutifully returning to the one who had sent him in the first place. No doubt he'd be beaten if he didn't get back quickly enough.
The contents of the scroll were exactly as he had said- a summons to her first test of the Culling, a test which Ochelo reveals nothing about. Instead, he has just summoned her to a small ritual chamber dedicated to Machei, out of the way and secluded from the rest of the temple.
Considering Ochelo's reputation, Fernalia likely gets some bad feelings about his choice of testing. Far too easy for him to arrange something to happen there- whatever he might want to happen, really, whether that be death or... something else she'd rather not think about in relation to the disgusting little man.
Of course, it's quite possible that if she prepared herself, Fernalia could turn the tables on Ochelo. The location was picked for privacy, after all, so no one would know if he met an untimely fate there. At least, not until too late...

-Vienne-

Yvelle seems to smile beneath her hood as she listens to Vienne's answer, replying quietly.
"You are correct. Moraei is not always the one that tests those who enter into the Culling. Of course, many priests would argue- perhaps rightly- that she has no objection in using her own followers as instruments and tools in testing the worthiness of others."
Yvelle turns from the skeleton she was examining, moving away, further into the catacombs, gesturing for Vienne to follow her, not looking back to see if she has, just continuing to speak in the same soft voice, moving on from both of their points as if neither of them concerned her, or mattered at all.
"But you are correct. I wish to draw your attention to something. Our goddess is threefold, is she not? Her aspects teach us the value of action and knowledge...
But yet, there is one other aspect which so many ignore, deride, and fail to understand. Moraei teaches that the presence of others, their manipulation and use as tools, is just as valuable."
The Voice stops and turns to Vienne, looking at her with piercing eyes.
"Do you see the point I drive towards, Vienne?"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon hissed as the man's knife bit deep into his leg. This would not do. Apparently he had underestimated the man. Nothing for it but to finish the fight.

Agamemnon switched the grip on his spear haft in a flash, bringing the point to bear properly, and once more stabbed at the man, his spear emitting a loud screech.


Full Attack action now.
[roll0] (6 BAB, 5 STR, 1 magic weapon, 1 WF, -2 Decisive Strike)

[roll1] (6 BAB, 5 STR, 1 magic weapon, 1 WF, -2 Decisive Strike)

Ignore second attack >_<

As for Thicket of Blades, I always read that it trumped tumble, since it was a newer source, among other reasons. But I totally understand cinematics.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The diviner looks around, trying to determine the nature of the voice and where it is coming from.

Spellcraft: [roll0]; Listen: [roll1]; Spot: [roll2]

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne follows along behind Yvelle, not trying to mask the sounds of her motion. Between the rustle of silk and the clinking of her jewelry, she's far from silent. She moves at a sedate, comfortable pace, in the unhurried manner her profession calls for-- grace over speed. "Yes and no, mistress," is her reply. "I believe you intend to test me in the ways of manipulation for the Culling, but I cannot say how you intend that test to take place." She doesn't flinch from the piercing gaze. Instead, she seems eager for the Oracle's attentions-- one day, perhaps, if she proves worthy, she'll learn all Yvelle's secrets.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern wrinkles her nose and frowns at the message--and her poltergeist seems to respond as a sound like a poorly-tuned cello note, low and disgusting. She briefly brings to mind all she knows of the man calling her, considering her options quietly. As she thinks, she pushes back her left sleeve to reveal her wand bracer. She checks each chamber--invisibility linked to her index finger, wind wall at her middle, ebon eyes at her ring, and sonic orb at her pinky finger. She pops each chamber open in turn--a small ball of light emerges from the last; an ironic gift from her poltergeist that is promptly ignored. After replacing the wands in the same order she retrieved them, she checks her various rods, each kept in a somewhat more obvious place; a thin, long pack she keeps at her right hip. Finally, she casts mage armor on herself, the sound of clanking armor accompanying the verbal components of the spell.

If Fern has met with Ochelo before, she would assess him as an opponent. Sense Motive: (1d20+15=19) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1830935/) (Good thing the modifier's high at least...)

What else does Fern know of the man?

How long does she have before she is expected to answer the summons to prepare?

[AmberVael]

-Cassandra-

The spell is very easy for her to identify. It seems to be a common form of Ventriloquism, so the source of the voice must be relatively nearby... but they could be anywhere. Having determined this, Cassandra looks around, but can't seem to find anyone. She may be a bit distracted by thinking about the spell and her recent vision.
The voice whispers again, calling out to her, sibilant and strange, like muffled bells chiming as it shivers through the air.
"Why are you silent, Cassandra? Does guilt still your tongue?"
It pauses, then speaks again.
"Has knowledge come to you?"

-Agamemnon-

Agamemnon's opponent swiftly dodges, but not quite fast enough. He manages to get himself impaled on the spear, probably right through the lung. He coughs up blood, and then goes still, sliding off the end of the weapon and gently dropping to the floor, a crimson stain spreading from his body across his dark clothing and out onto the floor.

He is definitely past -10.

-Fernalia-

Nothing really for me to respond IC to...

1) She can't really pin down his exact power, but she would guess that it is somewhere around her own level. It's likely that, given the right circumstances, either one of them could fight and win against the other.

2) He's gotten a rather bad reputation in the temple- not so much in terms of power and authority, but in dealings. While morals are lax here, there is still a level of professionalism, uprightness, and general standards that one holds to. Ochelo doesn't. He's a sneaky, underhanded, greasy lying little bastard. For example, he's rumored to have a hand in a number of trading and smuggling efforts outside of the temple, something which is frowned on (as the church likes to consolidate resources and power). Still, anyone who attempts to blackmail/expose him tends to end up face down, drowned in the canals.

3) Unknown, but the tone of the message, along with the traditions of the Culling, imply that she should answer them quickly. Any longer than an hour, and things might go very badly for her.

-Vienne-

Yvelle frowns a little, and her tone when she next speaks has become admonishing and reprimanding.
"You are too focused on your own tests in the Culling. The Culling is but a moment in time which comes and goes. Your attention should be broader, more encompassing. Listen to the whole of what I am saying."
She reaches a hand and lightly thwacks Vienne on the side of the head with two fingers. It's barely felt, much less painful, but the message is sent.
"Look around you, Vienne. Here you see the real result of the Culling. The dead. Every year, a number of our priests die in the Culling, every year, they are sacrificed so that we can 'test' those in our priesthood, to see if they are weak or strong.
"Tell me, Vienne, do you think the former High Priest was weak?"
Yvelle laughs quietly to herself.
"Machei teaches that others are resources, and sources of power. How much use do you think we get from corpses?"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

His foe dealt with, Agamemnon swiftly swipes the tip of his spear across the man's garment in a practiced motion, leaving a streaking trail of the man's own blood across the black cloth.

His worry had been climbing as the fight went on. At first he had been unworried, but he had underestimated his enemy. He would absolutely not make the same mistake where Cassandra was concerned.

He rushed across his small chamber, taking care to move swiftly but without making too much noise. His feet padding across the stone floor he makes his way to the door between his and Cassandra's chamber. In one motion he threw it open and took a step into the room, spear once more at the ready.

"Cassandra! Are you alright?"

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The oracle looks up, startled as Agamemnon enters her room. "I'm fine!" She seems irritated. "I had a vision and some fool is using a ventriloquism spell to throw their voice to me, for what purpose I'm not sur..." She looks at Agamemnon suddenly concerned, "Memni... you're hurt!"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon looks down at his leg in surprise. He had forgotten the wound. It didn't matter now. Nothing did. Except Cassandra. He waved his hand in dismissal.

"What do you mean you're fine?! I heard you scream!" He glares down at her angrily. "And the fool with the spell is probably the friend of the fool who I just ran through in my bedchamber."

He looked around the room, as if he could discern the caster's location with his eyes, even though he knew it was likely useless.

"Can you determine where he is? I'll deal with him."


[roll0]
[roll1]

Agamemnon attempts to find anyone in the room besides himself and Cassandra.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The girls shakes her head, "I can't see where the person is... the voice is unfamiliar, and sibilant. I'll try a spell in case they are using Invisibility." She moves her hands in graceful, slightly erotic motions (which you know is just her style of magic) and speaks soft words of power in a throaty voice.

Cast See Invisible.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon scowled ever so slightly as she began gently shaping the required gestures for the spell to work with her hands. The manner in which she did it was just plain... unnecessary.

"You're dodging my other question Cassy."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra finishes her spell and looks about the room with her enhanced powers of seeing. As she does so, she throws an irritated glance at Agamemnon. "I told you... I had a vision. Apparently, I woke from it screaming, as I often do. I actually thought I only dreamed of screaming because you didn't come right away... as soon as we find this ally we need to get your leg looked at."

In case the invisible person is also hiding - Spot: [roll0]...

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne ducks her head subserviently at the reprimand and the blow-- if it could be called such. "Apologies, mistress." She is silent for the better part of a minute as her brain ponders what she's heard. Eventually she responds, almost hesitantly, clearly not wanting to disappoint Yvelle again. "I would not call the high priest weak. If he were, he would never have risen to the rank. It does not mean that someone else was stronger than he in some way however. The Culling is a basic tenet of the worship of Moreai, but it is true that those who die are of no use within the teachings of Machei. It would almost appear that the two are mutually exclusive. I have seen priests on occasion kill a servant who has failed them, and I always considered that to be a waste. If one fails once, it does not mean one will always do so, and one's talents may be of use again in the future." The expression on her face shows that she's not sure she's on the track of thought that Yvelle wishes her to be on. Still, a considered answer, even in error, sits better with her mentor than no answer at all.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon's expression sobers. "I apologize. I came as fast as I could."

At the mention of his leg he scowls again. This time quite obviously. Truth be told it was starting to hurt a bit. But there were clearly higher priorities here.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra's eyes, which are supposed to be scanning the room, keep returning to Agamemnon. Now that she's no longer as worried about his wound, she can't help but notice how little he was wearing while he slept, and what a fine figure of a man he is, despite his deformity, which she is so comfortable with she hardly notices it.

If a scream gets him charging like this every time, I may have to make screaming part of my nightly regimen.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern frowns as she mulls her situation over, and gets up to begin the trek to the culling site. Her footfalls sound of drumbeats, far louder than they should be. She trails small streamers of light--those familiar with her would likely thing little of this though. She silently considers her options as she goes--she knew many spells to subdue him, and a few to help her cover her tracks, but actually killing him would likely be difficult, should it come to that...

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana stares down at the red-robed man, feeling slightly impatient. Clearly someone had sent the old man; a servant who accosted a priestess for no reason had to be a lackwit. He was old, so he could be going senile, but a senile servant wouldn't last long. She nods in answer to his question.

"Yes?" she asks; the message he likely had could be important. He wasn't dressed like the usual servants, and she wasn't familiar enough with the First Temple's hierarchy to know who he served.

[AmberVael]

-Cassandra and Agamemnon-

Neither searching nor spells reveal the location of the man who had been speaking, but the voice is quiet now... maybe he left when Agamemnon entered. Silence reigns...
Agamemnon should know that the temple would want a report of intruders and attacks, assuming the matter had been taken care of.

-Morana-

Actually, the man wasn't very old. He was bald, true, but that seems more likely because he was shaved. His skin was thin and stretched, yes, but that might have more to do with some sort of bizarre ritual fasting.
"It is my duty to inform you that I have been granted supervision of the first test of your Culling."
Says the servant benignly, seemingly unaware of the fact that his sentence was shocking and completely out of the ordinary- not to mention rather insulting. To be tested by a servant almost implied that she was lower than the servant, that they would have the knowledge to judge her success and be able to test her to her full capacity.
"Might we talk in private for a while?"
The servant asks calmly, presumptuously.
Something is definitely up.

-Fernalia-

The chapel designated by Ochelo is fairly far, but nothing interrupts her on the way. It is a small place, a separate structure from the rest of the temple, built in the middle of a small garden. There are two entrances, one in the front, one in the back. The front door leads to the small altar and into the open part of the chapel. The back door leads to a small preparation chamber where sacrifices would be held and prepared before use, as well as a place for the leading priests to ready themselves.
There are also some decorated windows (similar to stained glass, but with a different process to making them) around the sides of the chapel, which might afford some glimpse as to what is happening inside.

I'm assuming Fernalia stayed a good distance from the chapel while she observes it to get the description in the above post. If anyone is around outside, you're far enough away not to have caught their attention. From here on out though, all is fair game.

-Vienne-

Yvelle smirks a bit, apparently satisfied with Vienne's thoughts.
"That is a good analysis."
She turns to Vienne, stopping in the midst of the corpses as she prepares to speak next, gesturing to draw attention to herself and her words.
"I approve of the Culling as it is."
With a soft whisper of her robe, she turns once more and begins slowly walking again, letting silence drop between them like a muffling blanket, stifling words before they even begin. Quietly, Yvelle leads the way to a large door, which she pauses in front of.
"No doubt you're in some confusion as to how I can lead you to think of such a contradiction, and then grasp at it so willingly. Speak freely, Vienne. What are your thoughts about it all?"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon
HP: 53/74 AC: 20 T: 13 FF: 17

Agamemnon shook his head in disgust. He had been too slow. He turned back to Cassandra. "The...proper authorities will be wanting to know about this incident." He gave a deceivingly blithe smile. "Under normal circumstances, I would simply go do that. However, under current circumstances, I'm not letting you out of my sight. Get ready, we're taking a walk."

His lips tightened, and he braced himself mentally for the fight he was sure was coming.

Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: --
Move: --
Standard: --
Swift: --
Free: --

Added all the crunchy goodness.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra nods and sets her journal on the table. She rises from her bed, her beauty unfettered by clothing and goes to the wardrobe where she begins getting dressed. "So, what do you think is going on... could this be part of our culling?"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon
HP: 53/74 AC: 20 T: 13 FF: 17

Agamemnon's jaw dropped open slightly as her back turned to him. For a couple reasons actually. First, she actually obeyed his order. Which was so highly unusual that he actually felt a degree of astonishment. The other reason, although not as significant as the first, was that he still wasn't entirely used to her trouncing around in that state of undress around him.

When they were younger she had zealously guarded her privacy, rarely even letting him see her in as little as a nightgown. But about a year ago--around the time of the visions he supposed--she had relaxed an extreme amount, dropping any restraint as if it had never existed. It was incredibly perplexing.

Although, looking down, Agamemnon realized that he couldn't really be laying blame on her. His cheeks colored slightly as he realized he had rushed into her bedchamber in a similar form of covering.

His thoughts jumped back to the present at the creak of the wardrobe door, and he quickly snaps his jaw shut, causing a small clack as his teeth knocked together.

He clears his throat. "Uh, well yes. That's good. I mean... maybe. It might be a part of our culling. In fact, it almost assuredly is, although I doubt our guests were acting in an official capacity." His momentarily befuddled mind ground its way back onto the normal tracks of thinking. He really shouldn't get distracted like that. It put Cassandra in potential danger if he wasn't always alert.

"Anyways, I have to get ready myself. I'm keeping my door open. Don't leave my line of sight."

With that, Agamemnon returned to his own chamber, swiftly gathering his things, and began readying himself, making sure that he could see his charge as he did so.


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: --
Move: --
Standard: --
Swift: --
Free: --

[The_Snark]

Morana

"We might," Morana says slowly, studying the man more closely. Perhaps she'd been wrong in assuming he was simply a servant. Moraei's worship took many forms, and she certainly wasn't familiar with all of the sects—and though he looked far too docile to be a proper worshipper, it could be an adopted mannerism, to make others underestimate him. She did much the same thing, after all; she shouldn't assume she was the only one. Or he might be a servant to someone very prominent in the church; service to power was often seen as a kind of power, here in the First Temple. That would be annoying, but she couldn't change it yet.

She motions behind him, towards the door. "Come inside. Might I inquire your name?" Normally, she said such niceties with a hint of repressed anger at the flowery formality; she dropped that for now, preferring caution while dealing with an unknown.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young woman turns to Agamemnon, making sure he can see her, and see more of her than would make him comfortable. "Line of sight works both ways, Memni... I'm not going to miss a moment of the show!" She giggles.

Wow... he's blushing. I never got past his self control before. Here I thought I was perfectly safe around him, no matter what I did.

She closes her eyes for a moment, but only a moment, because she doesn't want to miss anything.

Maybe I'm not perfectly safe around Memni... what a wonderful thought.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon
HP: 53/74 AC: 20 T: 13 FF: 17

Agamemnon refused to be fazed now that he had regained his cool. He simply gazed coolly at her. "You can do whatever you want, as long as you stay where I can see you. You're only going to embarass yourself in the end though." He stared pointedly downward to make his point. "You may as well be my sister. Consider that if you will. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before. And there are plenty of more interesting things to look at besides you making a fool of yourself. "

He pulls up his trousers, and tightens the last straps of his armor, making sure everything was secure.

"Are you ready?"


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: --
Move: --
Standard: --
Swift: --
Free: --

*ahem* That's probably about as far as I can go. Hopefully I got the point across.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young oracle simple rolls her eyes at his calm assertion. "Fine... take what little joy I get in life away with everything else." She pulls on her clothing, "Let's get this over with... I'd like to get back to sleep soon." Under her breath she whispers, "At least in my dreams the men are less... perfect."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon
HP: 53/74 AC: 20 T: 13 FF: 17

Agamemnon's face falls. "I... you know I'm not trying to hurt you Cassy. I just wish you wouldn't say things like that. You know nothing can ever happen."

He takes one long stride over, and bends down, enfolding her into a tight hug, patting her back before releasing her.

If this is the most I can do...

"Come on, let's get going."

Making sure she follows, he heads out of the room, heading towards where he thinks he will find someone to report the incident to.


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: --
Move: --
Standard: --
Swift: --
Free: --

I'm not exactly sure where I'm going OOC, but I assume I know IC, so I'll let you take care of that, Vael.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne's immediate response is frank, "I don't know what to make of it, mistress, beyond there being some reason for it. It would not be the first contradiction you've led me into." She falls silent, except for the noise of her movements as she paces briefly in front of the door. After a handful of turns she stops to look up at her mentor again. She is clearly thinking aloud as she replies. "My personal thoughts are that the Culling is tied more to Babde than to our goddess's other aspects. Which would make it less of an obvious contradiction. Yet that does not seem to be what you are driving towards. I would guess that either the contradiction itself is somehow valuable-- perhaps because it continues to keep others off balance-- or that there is some other way to exploit it. Neither the Culling nor the machinations of the priests have ever affected you, mistress. Is there some secret within the center of the paradox?" Her eyes widen as she has a new thought. "Or-- have you some use for the dead that the others do not? That would resolve the apparent contradiction into not being one. The Culling would serve your own manipulations then."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra grows quiet as Agamemnon speaks, and as he enfolds her in his arms she closes her eyes.

I know nothing more can happen between us... but reason and desire are separate things.

She blinks and steels herself.

I will not cry.

She smiles, "Yes, lets go find the proper authorities to report assassins and whisperers to." She follows Agamemnon, almost meekly.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern stops a good distance from the temple, observing what she can.

Should she have time, she will begin by circling the temple's perimeter, staying at a distance where she wouldn't be seen while trying to pick out any guards or other people outside. She is accompanied by an unnatural slicing noise, somewhat like a butcher's blades being sharpened for a kill.

Once that is done, she will move closer, and attempt to get a glimpse into one of the windows. She will not attempt to be stealthy about it--she knows her poltergeist makes that impossible, and discovery while trying to hide would be a difficult thing to talk away.

If she discovers nothing that would give her pause, she will proceed inside, silently cursing that she didn't have more time to prepare.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

As the two exit, it swiftly becomes apparent that the danger isn't over yet. Two more of the black clad men lunge out of the shadows, taking Agamemnon and Cassandra by surprise. However, they don't seem quite as skilled as the one that attacked before, or maybe they're just having bad luck; both of their swift attacks miss, Cassandra's attacker going so far as to smash his sword against the wall with a ringing sound, possibly damaging it and hurting himself.
No matter the cause, Cassandra and Agamemnon got lucky.

So the assassins were JUST good enough to avoid spot checks, but then managed to fumble their attacks horribly. Oh, and then you guys won initiative. So it's your turn.
The hallway is about ten feet wide (if only for the sake of combat manuevering), and one assassin is next to Cassandra, the other is next to Agamemnon.
I roll lots of dice behind the scenes, I might add.

Map:
http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h107/sjunderw/Other/Map1.png
A = Agamemnon
C = Cassandra
1&2 = Assassins
And the funny thing in the wall next to Cassandra is the door back into your rooms.

-Morana-

The man raises himself and enters Morana's chambers, bowing to her once as he does so.
"I am called Ekaa."
Due to her familiarity with the various ritual languages of the temple and the world in general, Morana recognizes the name- or at least knows what words it might come from. As a name it is strange, as taken literally it simply means 'one.'
"I apologize for my arrival at a late hour, but I was only told recently of my duty in regards to you, and it was resolved that I should start at once."
He smiles in an empty way, all gesture, no emotion.

-Fernalia-

Fernalia manages to hear something from the inside as she gets closer, someone talking, their voice raised and higher pitched. With a glance in the very tinted and decorated windows (very hard to see through indeed), she sees the vague shapes of two people inside, one of whom is gesturing rather wildly before the second simply reaches out and makes some violent motion.
A cracking sound emanates from inside, like bone breaking.
The first shape slumps out of sight, while the second moves towards the back of the chapel, pausing near where the altar would be.

-Vienne-

Yvelle smiles slightly at Vienne, putting her hand on the door in front of her as she speaks softly.
"Your mind is on the right path, but the answer to this is not one to be revealed quickly or entirely. It will not come to you tonight, or for many more nights to come. However, keep it in mind, always, and know that many do not grasp half as much of the truth as you do."
The Voice opens the huge door with very little effort, a simple swish of her hand sending it to rest against the wall as she enters the dark hallway beyond it. A red light flicks into being above her shoulder, brightening their path.
"But now it is time to turn your attention to your Culling. I doubt it will be like any that you've done before... until this year, your Culling was overseen by other priests."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon
HP: 53/74 AC: 20 T: 13 FF: 17

Agamemnon recoils in surprise, and curses himself for his negligence. This was looking like a bad day. The enemies were too close at this point to worry about Cassandra. Best deal with both of them then.

Agamemnon slides his fingers down the wooden shaft of his spear, rapidly bringing the point to bear and stabbing out twice in quick succession.


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used


[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer [x]
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike [x]

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: Full round attack
Move: --
Standard: --
Swift: --
Free: --

NOT using DS this turn. First attack is against 1, second vs 2. Hopefully I did all that right this time...

[roll3]

[roll4]

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra is surprised, but steps back, letting Agamemnon do his work and since she didn't have her defensive spells up, she quickly casts one.

Cast Greater Mage Armor

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne ducks her head respectfully to Yvelle. "It is hard to prepare adequately for that of which one has no knowledge, mistress, but I am as prepared as I can be in the circumstances." She waits alertly for some indication of what her Culling will entail.

[The_Snark]

Morana

One. It could be a title as well as a name—a position in a hierarchy? Or perhaps all the robed men are called the same; a statement that they are one person, nothing more. A strange name, either way. Morana resolves not to assume the man was nothing more than a servant; he very well might be, but if he was a servant he was an odd one.

"It is no difficulty," she says, following him and closing the door behind her. She would do well to remember that he was overseeing the test that would yield both ill and good for her, or perhaps only one of those, if she was incautious. Even if he were only an odd servant, he bore watching. "Since it is so urgent, perhaps you would like to begin." It is a question, not an order, but barely so; her voice barely rises, and only at the very end.

[Proven_Paradox]

The plot thickens! She moves swiftly to the entrance of the temple, rolling up her sleeve as she does. She pops the wand of invisibility from the bracer to an annoying "BOOOING" sound--in less dire circumstances it would have been comical, but now she can only frown and suppress an exasperated curse. She taps herself with the wand and vanishes from sight--though the lights and sounds of her poltergeist would surely give away her presence, she would still remain unseen. ((Duration; 3 minutes)) She stops for replaces the wand in the bracer, then moves into the temple. She draws her Rod of Silence spell from the container at her hip as she moves.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

Agamemnon shifts his grip on his spear, then stabs twice at his opponent, hitting him in the shoulder, then in the kidneys, felling the man before he can even react. As Agamemnon shakes him off his spear, the other man flips out a dagger and jabs the warrior in the leg, hampering him as he flips backwards, attempting to get away from the pair before he ends up like his friend.

Cassandra, meanwhile, has stepped back and has now protected herself with a powerful abjuration.
Assassin 2 is well below -10.
Agamemnon took a mere 6 damage, but has his base speed cut in half for 24 hours or until someone performs a DC 15 Heal check on him.
Cassandra now has Greater Mage Armor. Woot.
Assassin 1 Tumbled away and is now going to try to get the hell out of there.

Map:
http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h107/sjunderw/Other/Map1b.png

-Fernalia-

As Fernalia enters, she sees a man in red robes place Ochelo's body on the altar, then turn around as the door to the chapel opens. He sits down calmly and watches the dancing lights and listens to the sounds that announce her presence, while Ochelo's glassy, dead eyes peer off at a strange angle due to a broken neck.
"If you are Fernalia, you have nothing to fear. Ochelo presumptuously interfered with the test that had been set up for you, and his arrogance was dealt with accordingly."
The bald headed, bare armed man seems to remain alert, however, watching the vague movements of the lights and sounds as he attempts to determine where exactly she is.

-Morana-

"I had the span of a day to begin test you, so it is not precisely urgent. However, I am not trained to delay."
Ekaa smiles that empty smile again, sitting down on the floor and resting his hands gently on his knees.
"You are a professed follower of Babde, the mayor of a small town known as Shorhol, have no small talent with a sword, and are skilled in a most unusual form of magic. At least, this is the information given to me..."
He watches her for a moment, waiting for her response to that. He then continues quietly.
"Please tell me what you think of Moraei and those who worship her."

-Vienne-

"You have been preparing for this ever since you joined the temple, Vienne. There is no other preparation for this test."
She leads her into a room that at once seems large and small, somehow vast in its creation, but yet confined to a room sized area. There is an almost tangible tenseness in the air, a strange feeling all about the room...
Yvelle seems not to notice any change or strange feelings about the room, but simply leads the way to a small altar that seems built precisely the right size for a human body. In fact, it seems disturbingly similar to the way many of the corpses were stored out in the catacombs- raised on beds of stone, preserved by ancient magics so that those like Yvelle could examine them.
"Lie here, Vienne, and do not resist."
Yvelle gently touches the surface of the altar.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young oracle speaks words of power laced with a curse of bad luck, "Anann sees your fate, Machei speaks your fate, Babde rends your fate!" She gestures toward the fleeing assassin, hurling a glittering shard that seems to melt away, there is a sound like the rattling of dice.

Cast Unluck (Spell Compendium:227) at the assassin [Will Save (not mind affecting) DC:20] - for 10 rounds he will have to make 2 rolls for every action that requires a roll and take the worse of the two...

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon
HP: 47/74 AC: 20 T: 13 FF: 17

Agamemnon's knee buckles ever so slightly as the assassin slices into his hamstring. He quickly recovers though, and seems to disappear, reappearing 40 feet down the hall in front of the fleeing man.

"Going somewhere? Die in despair, knowing your god forsakes you."


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: --
Move: --
Standard: Burn 3 charges on Dimension Stride boots to teleport 40 feet down the hall, in front of the man.
Swift: --
Free: --


This tumbling is getting annoying >_<

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne hesitates for a few heartbeats, her sharply honed instinct for self-preservation warring with her bizarre streak of loyalty to and trust in the Oracle. When she moves, it is to take a complete circuit around the altar looking at it with some interest before approaching it and seating herself in a flurry of colored scarves. "If your intent is to sacrifice me, mistress, I should point out that I can better serve you alive than dead." That statement is her only sign of protest-- she does indeed feel that Yvelle would not have spent so much time teaching her only to sacrifice her to the goddess without purpose. She stretches out upon the bier sensuously; out of habit, she lays there looking ready to embrace a lover, as if the hard stone was the soft bed of her private chamber. Despite all appearances, she is mindful of the weapons she carries, and is prepared to use them if need be.

[The_Snark]

Morana

She nods curtly at his evaluation; all of this was true, albeit not the whole truth. She knew how to use a sword, but preferred to use her hands; she professed to be a follower of Babde, since the First Temple divided all its worshippers. She can't help but notice that he had phrased the statements so that he stated only what was generally known, without contradicting the actual truth. It might be simple coincidence, but there were too many oddities about Ekaa to write all of them off.

Morana sits upon the bed. In her experience, either sitting while the other is standing or standing while the other sits can be used to assert dominance or superiority; when both were sitting or standing, there was no such imbalance to be exploited either way. She decides to speak the same way he had—stating what she outwardly professed, while leaving her true beliefs unspoken but outlined. "Moraei is an example. Do as she teaches, and one has the means to attain whatever else one wants in life. Her worshippers..." She pauses, considers how much to reveal. "...are merely others who recognize that fact, or else they are fools who think she will give them power if they beg, and grovel for her approval rather than seeking strength."

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

Agamemnon appears further down the hallway, his spear just barely out of range of the assassin, far enough away to where the assassin would have a difficult time passing by him, even if he were lucky enough to move around. Cassandra, on the other hand, curses the assassin successfully, causing him to blink a little as he glances towards her.
Of course, this draws his attention to the flaw in Agamemnon's plan. He may prevent the assassin from moving down that part of the hallway... but he could definitely run back towards Cassandra, and not even suffer for it. So he does, running straight at her and attempts to stab her, though his knife glances off of her armor.

Okay, so I totally don't have my map image with me right now, but the assassin is now in front of the door, and Agamemnon is 40ft further down the hallway to the right.
Assassin failed the will save, and then charged Cassandra, but missed.

-Morana-

Ekaa listens to her quietly, revealing nothing of his own emotions on the subject. After she finishes, he inclines his shaven head in acknowledgment before delving further into his questioning.
"And how do you follow Moraei's teachings? In what ways do you attempt to gain power?"
He pauses, then adds one more question.
"What are your opinions on the aspect of Machei? It is often noticed that worshipers of Babde find the subtleties of Machei's teachings little to their liking."

-Vienne-

Yvelle smiles slightly as Vienne speaks and examines the stone altar, an altar covered with archaic and ancient symbols and runes. Vienne cannot even begin to decipher them, even if they were not so smoothed and dulled with age. Still, nothing seems overtly harmful about it...
"You are already a sacrifice, Vienne. You gave yourself to me in order to gain knowledge and power, sacrificed much of your freedom to serve my goals, relinquished your secrets to my understanding..."
As she speaks, Yvelle paces around the altar as Vienne had, describing a perfectly circle before making her way to Vienne's head, placing her hands on either side of it on the altar.
"I wager that you have not given Moraei such a valuable sacrifice."
The woman adds that last sentence quietly, looking at Vienne with unreadable eyes and expression, all emotion and hints at her thoughts completely erased. It was like looking at a statue, knowing that you had done something of monumental importance... but not knowing whether it would be a triumph or failure, seeing no clue in its stony surface.
Before Vienne can react, a powerful sensation hits her mind, like something trying to drill its way inside, to claw aside her defenses.
"Don't resist..."

The magic being used here is an Enchantment, so technically Vienne is immune to it. However, due to the fact that you have a mind, I'm saying it is less a complete inability to be affected by it, and more like impenetrable wards which you can let down (but only if you want to.)
So the only way you can be affected by this attempt by Yvelle is if you want it to work.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne murmurs a soft reply to Yvelle's statement. "It hasn't felt like a sacrifice, mistress. I've been given much for what I gave. But is not everything I do in your service a sacrifice to the goddess?" Anything else she might say is cut off by the sudden assault against her mind. What she does next is, perhaps, the hardest thing she's ever done. Not trusting another, even with her life-- one cannot survive in the temple without learning to know whom one can trust and whom one can't, and Vienne felt almost instinctively that she could trust Yvelle, the woman she had served so well. That decision had been made when she chose to lie upon the altar. What was hard was figuring out how to let down her defenses-- something she had never done before. Her body arches upward on the altar stone as she fights with herself to bring down her protection. When she finally does so, she goes completely limp, letting whatever it is Yvelle intends wash over her.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra shakes her head, "Now... now, Agamemnon went all that way to make you feel welcome and you run away from him. Go back and say your sorry..." She speaks arcane words and gestures at the assassin's feet and makes a gesture as though sweeping him down the hall with her arm.

Cast Greater Slide (Spell Compendium:192). Will Saving Throw (DC:19) - The soles of his feet will glow yellow as he slides back down the hall toward Agamemnon, 20' (does not provoke attacks of opportunity). Please note that because of Insightful Divination she now has a +3 Initiative bonus (until and unless she uses it as a +3 bonus on a saving throw)

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

"Cassandra!" Agamemnon's shout echoed down the hallway.

Curse my foolishness! Moraei strike me for my impetuous nature!

With that cry, Agamemnon seeks to correct his mistake.


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: --
Move: Move to attack
Standard: Attack using Foehammer
Swift: --
Free: --


Agamemnon will move forward to a point where he can attack, using his Foehammer maneuver to deal an extra 2d6 damage.

[roll0]
[roll1][roll2]+[1d8 (weapon damage) +1d6 (sonic) +8 (7 strength, 1 weapon enhancement)]

*sigh* I doubt this matters, since I'm pretty sure that doesn't hit, but, yeah, sorry for combining the sonic with the foehammer. I need to like triple proofread my rolls or something.

[Proven_Paradox]

"Is that so?" Fern asks, still invisible, peering at the man behind amused eyes and a slight smirk--for Ochelo to be slain by one such as this... quite embarrassing for the deceased. She slides the metamagic rod back into its place in her satchel, dons a neutral expression, and waves her hand to dismiss the invisibility spell. She approaches the man slowly, looking him over appraisingly--a low hum follows her, and small blue balls of light float about her as she approaches. "I've certainly heard rumors of priests bending the Culling to their own purposes... But I've never heard of them being punished for such, much less so direly!" She stops and leans against a seat a few rows from the front. "It seems I owe you thanks, then. Might I know the name of my savior?"

[The_Snark]

Morana

"My methods are my own," she says, a touch sharply; she may be imagining it, but she hears prying in Ekaa's voice. She tries to rein in her tone a little bit. "My apologies, but the specifics do not seem to be relevant. I do whatever is most expedient. If there is an obstacle, I find a way to negate it. If there are none, well..."

She eyes the red-robed man again as he asks her opinion on Machei, and continues their careful dance of drawing outlines around the truth without actually lying. "Machei's followers are fools." Because they boasted of their prowess at manipulation and secrecy, because they focused on one aspect of the goddess and mostly ignored the others—there were several reasons; just not contempt for that aspect of the goddess.

She continues to study Ekaa, wondering whether she should cease playing these word-games. No, she could wait; if he were more than he pretended, he would doubtless see some of what was under the surface, and he would be aware she was more subtle than she pretended. If he was a fool, she had no reason and no desire to give him the truth. Let him be the first to admit knowledge.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

Agamemnon strikes at the assassin while Cassandra sends him zipping down the hallway, but the spell unfortunately interferes with Agamemnon's aim, and the assassin, while ending up close to the warrior, is swept out of the way of his attack.
Quite frustrated now, the assassin attempts to roll out of the way once more, only to fail miserably due to Cassandra's curse on him...

At this point, Agamemnon finally gets an attack of opportunity. However, if it doesn't kill the assassin, he's now 45ft away from Agamemnon, and 65ft away from Cassandra, running for his life.

-Fernalia-

"I am called Dve."
He inclines his head to her.
"The judgment meted to Ochelo was deemed appropriate, as he committed heresy in taking this course of action. The blade of Babde crushes all those who oppose the will of Moraei. Moraei's will be done."
The last two sentences are more chant and formal recital than Dve's actual words, having been said a hundred times before, the meaning in them so ingrained into Moraei's worshipers that they are barely thought of anymore.
"If it pleases you, we can begin your real first test for the culling now."

-Morana-

Ekaa raises an eyebrow at Morana, remaining calm and peaceful, though displaying a bit of distaste for her outburst.
"I understand your desire to be reticent. However, my position in this situation demands that my question be answered more specifically, and my current authority as your supervisor of the Culling grants me the power to draw such answers from you, whether you wish to reveal it or not."
He cups his hands together, as if he were holding an egg in them, and looks down towards them. The look in his eyes is completely unfazed now, accepting and calm.
"Perhaps the informal and unusual nature of this test has led you to believe that it is something other than it is, but this is your Culling, Morana. My test of you requires an answer to my questions."
The red robed man looks back up at her, infuriatingly calmly.

-Vienne-

The spell tears into Vienne's mind, racing through her memories and forcing her to relive them as they are brought up for Yvelle's examination. Slowly but surely Vienne notices a pattern in them, that each and every memory ties into her capabilities- all of her skills and talents are neatly found, eventually revealing the whole of her power to her mentor. All of her strengths and weaknesses, her flaws and resources, are now known to Yvelle in complete detail.
No doubt the thought of that is a little frightening... but at the same time, Vienne knew that Yvelle had possessed the power to entirely shape and meld her mind into whatever design she wished, and yet had left her completely untouched, not even altered for Yvelle's benefit, which she easily could have done.
"Your test is complete, Vienne. You may sit up."
She gently offers a hand to help Vienne up, which she finds she'll need. The spell left her quite disoriented and rather shaken.
"I am quite satisfied with the skill you have displayed, and I don't believe anything further will be necessary."

[Whiplord]

Agamemon

Agamemnon sends out a slew of invectives in multiple language as his attack misses. He quickly recovers though and attempts to attack the man as he flies past.


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block
Crusader's Strike

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Full Round: --
Move: --
Standard: AoO
Swift: --
Free: --

[roll0]
[roll1][roll2]+[1d8 (weapon damage) +1d6 (sonic) +8 (7 strength, 1 weapon enhancement)]


...wow.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra frowns, realizing that her spell has interfered with Agamemnon. She growls in annoyance and then gestures casting another spell speaking words of power that sound... sticky? "Running isn't as easy as it might seem in a place known for it's webs of intrigue."

Cast Web (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/web.htm) which has a 180' range... I don't think he's escaping just now... unless he gets two really good reflex saves. :) Edit: Oh, those are DC19, by the way.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne takes the offered assistance to sit up, her free hand flying to her temple to rub at her head. She stares at her mentor with glazed eyes. "As you wish, mistress," she replies, her voice sounding wrapped in wool to her ears. She knows her body well enough to know that attempting to stand would be a bad idea, so she settles for using the altar as a bench while she gets her bearings. "Will you require my services for anything else this evening?" While still sounding fuzzy, there is a stronger sense of loyalty to the Oracle in her voice than there was previously. Not that there was a lack of it before, but the realization that Yvelle could have done quite literally anything and chose not to strengthened the admiration and desire to serve that the courtesan had for her mentor.

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana inclines her head, keeping a tight lid on her... irritation wasn't quite the right word, nor was anger. She simply disliked being put in a vulnerable spot. "Understood. My reticence, as you call it, is one of my methods. People who don't know what I can do are either cautious, or they make assumptions. Which are frequently wrong." She smiles thinly. This was not something she would normally confide, but this Culling was to be important to her, if she faced it.

"As I have said, I do whatever seems most expedient. I could go on about the details, but I do not think a precise listing of the capabilities of my magic or the details of how to go about an elimination are what you are asking about... More specific question will receive more specific answers. Ask." Her smile is not ungenuine; there was a part of her that wanted to gloat, to show what she thought and did to others and watch them approve and admire, and that part of her so rarely got its way.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern suppresses a surprised expression at the man's words--her poltergeist chooses now to chime in with the sound of breaking glass. She frowns as she speaks slowly, gently around this delicate subject. "Forgive my suspicion if it is undue, but... What proof do you have of your authority to preside over a Culling? This could just as easily be a ploy of some sort as Ochelo's summoning was. Ochelo I knew to be of proper rank to do so from speaking with him in the past... But of you, I know nothing."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

((Option 1 - Cassandra's Web spell works))

Seeing the fleeing Assassin caught in Cassandra's spell, Agamemnon decides to end the battle while he has the chance.

((Option 2 - Web spell fails)

Seeing the Assassin flung down the hall and start running, Agamemnon dashes off after the fleeing man, attempting to catch him.


Crunch
Maneuvers Known:
Warblade
italic means ready
crossed out means used

Rabid Wolf Strike
Sudden Leap
Action Before Thought

Crusader
italic means ready
[x] means available
crossed out means used

[roll0]
Stone Bones
Mountain Hammer
Foehammer
Shield Block [x]
Crusader's Strike [x]

To determine the readied manuever, the list will be treated as ordered, and a appropriate sided die will be rolled

Stances:
bold means current stance

Warblade:
Punishing Stance

Crusader:
Martial Spirit
Thicket of Blades


Option 1
Full Round: Decisive Strike
Move: --
Standard: --
Swift: --
Free: --

[roll1]
[roll2][roll3]+[1d8 (weapon damage) +1d6 (sonic) +8 (7 strength, 1 weapon enhancement)]*2 = 32


Option 2
Full Round: --
Move: Catch that man!
Standard: --
Swift: --
Free: --

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

Agamemnon swipes out with his spear as the assassin moves, barely catching him along the side, making the black clad man stagger straight into the spell Cassandra set up for him, sticking neatly in the web.
Agememnon moves after him, since the man got a bit further than he expected before sticking into the web.
The assassin struggles against the webs, but to no avail, only managing to wriggle a bit. His momentum got him very thoroughly stuck in the webs, and it isn't likely that he'll be getting out any time soon.

As stated in the last post, the man got away 45ft if Agamemnon failed to kill him with the AoO. As such, the web catches him, but Agamemnon is not in range for an attack, and thus I used the second option instead.

-Fernalia-

"Your caution, of course, is understandable."
Dve inclines his head, leaving it lowered as he reaches a hand to gently touch his forehead. There is a gleam of something, and then he raises his head once more, revealing whatever it is that he had done.
Fernalia can see a glowing symbol etched onto his forehead- a symbol made of various distorted circles. It's not something one sees often in the temple, but the source is unmistakable: a mark of Yvelle. The Voice has a spell which marks that which she has granted approval for, or marks what is hers or otherwise stems from her. It is her seal and livery, so to speak. Typically a living person only wears it during the immediate period that they are carrying out her order, so one cannot simply flaunt it at all times in order to get their way.
Attempts to counterfeit her symbol have been known, but none of them have ever been very successful. Though a few managed to get away with it for a short amount of time, their deaths followed swiftly, in a violent and noticeable manner, as to make an example of them. No one impersonates Yvelle and lives to boast of it.
"The Voice has assumed responsibility of your tests in the Culling. Does this satisfy you?"

The symbol:
http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h107/sjunderw/Other/YvelleSymbol.png

-Morana-

Ekaa makes no comment, nor reveals any surprise at all. Indeed, he almost seems bored, as if he had no interest in what he was doing. Strange, really, that he would express so little care for one of the most weighty matters in the temple- that which held the life and death of all the priests that worshiped the dread goddess Moraei.
"It has been noted that as you rose to power, many of those in your way were eliminated permanently... why do you resort to lethal force so frequently?"

-Vienne-

"I do not believe I require anything more of you just yet."
Yvelle smiles a little, looking into Vienne's eyes in an almost motherly manner, examining her to make sure that she was going to recover from the after effects of the magic she had experienced. Soon, however, the smile and look wipes from her face, and Yvelle turns, placing her arms behind her back and pacing about the room.
"However... I do have plans that will involve you, which you may want to hear. The appointment of our latest high priest has set events in motion- events which in the long term will not be in the best interests of the temple, though they benefit us now. Many, you understand, would say my words were heresy and blasphemy, and would attempt to strike me down. I have no doubt that I would eventually triumph... but such blunt, wasteful machinations are distasteful to me."
Yvelle turns back to Vienne, eyes piercing.
"You yourself must not doubt the danger of this new high priest. Though Moraei herself has appointed him, she knows that he is a poison to us. She sees that for now he will strengthen us, and counts on his further plans- and perhaps even his life- being terminated before long. But it is our place to do that, and not hers... for what followers of Moraei are we if we cannot fend for ourselves?
"We must begin to undermine these plans now, and I have already started down the path we must tread. There are a few likely people within the temple- men and women of talent- who have yet escaped the notice and talons of the highest priests. I am assembling them for my purposes, but they are varied, and have no allegiance to me yet. You, Vienne, will be my hand among them, to make sure my purpose and will is carried out."

[The_Snark]

Morana

"It was expedient. They were rivals; they would have continued to make trouble if not removed permanently. It is sometimes possible to plan events so that a former rival is more useful than he is inconvenient, but this takes more time and effort."

"Besides, a reputation such as that can be a useful tool to have."

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern's eyes widen for a split second as the mark is revealed. She returns to a normal expression almost immediately, but it's obvious that she had not expected this. She puts on a polite smile and begins walking a bit closer to the man--her footsteps sound as though she's walking over broken glass, though none is on the floor at all. Her voice is even as she says, "Indeed it does. Either you're a fool who will soon be slain in a most horrible fashion, or a genuine servant of the Voice. Either way... I'm curious. So tell me, what exactly shall my Culling be this year?"

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"As you wish, mistress," she repeats, sounding as if she's regained some of her equilibrium. She stands on her feet again, albeit slightly shakily. "When will I meet these few?" she inquires, adding as an afterthought, "And perhaps I should pay a visit to the new high priest tonight, mistress. Pretend to curry his favor as would befit one of my profession." The proposition is more of a question than a statement. Vienne looks to her mentor for approval of her idea.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra chants, practically singing another spell while making some interesting somatic gestures. As she finishes, she then saunters over to the assassin, stuck in her web. "Unless you are stronger than you look... or slipperier, you're in there for over an hour. Or until we do whatever we want with you." She smiles, not at all nicely, "Did you like my little curse... I have others... Anann showed me a very good one, it makes your eyes explode. I think it's very painful, but I'm not sure, never having wanted to cast it on myself. Others I've used it on though, cry out most adequately."

Cast Detect Thoughts (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/detectThoughts.htm), DC20 Will Saving Throw, and concentrate toward the assassin.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Once the man was captured it became clear that Cassandra wished to question the man. Agamemnon obliged, standing as silent guardian while she spoke to him.


Sorry for shortness. School = :smalleek:

Basically I ready an action to attack if he tries any funny business.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

The assassin struggles, but can't manage to escape the webbing this round, while Cassandra's spell slowly gains access to his mind. His thoughts seem to be focused on getting away, or maybe killing them both if he can. Nothing really unexpected... but maybe if she brought up the right topic he'd start thinking about it...

-Fernalia-

"I have gathered much of your history, and have learned much of you in preparation for this test. However... your first test this year is both simple and difficult- easy to pass, yet difficult to succeed in."
Dve sits in a chair near the altar, watching her.
"Tell me, Fernalia, why you are amongst the powerful in this temple. Tell me of your devotion to Moraei, and your allegiance among her followers...
"There is more to it than those answers, as you know- but that is part of your test. Tell me what I want to hear... and mean it."
Dve smiles, darkly amused.

-Morana-

Ekaa contemplates her words quietly, then looks up at her.
"Are all of your superiors your rivals, and no matter the answer to that, who do you serve?"
He flexes his hands, watching her very closely, his somewhat strange (and possibly silly) appearance not detracting from the weight of his tone and words in the least, so powerful are they.
"There are those who have been watching your progress, Morana- those who have seen talents and skill that have evaded the notice of others.
"Yvelle, the Voice, wishes to test you for more than just the purposes of the Culling."
He gently touches his forehead, and a strange symbol of writhing circles appears there- the symbol of Yvelle.
"Are you willing to act in the service of Yvelle, that she may further the cause of Moraei?"

(You'll know everything that Fernalia did in the last post. I see little point in repeating myself).

-Vienne-

"I do not think that would be wise, Vienne."
Yvelle paces over towards the door, moving slowly, and acting fully in the capacity of a distant mentor once more.
"The high priest is no one to be trifled with- he could hold the same power over you that I do, and he is canny enough to realize that you are not entirely what you seem to be. Besides, I have my own way of getting information from him- and manipulating his actions is not something I desire either.
..and... there is danger to anyone lower than the high priest who associates with him."
She turns and smiles darkly at Vienne.
"Soon you will meet the others, Yvelle. Perhaps after we hear the news of our high priest's actions tomorrow. You will see what kind of man he is... at least in part."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne bows gracefully to her mentor. "As you prefer, mistress. With your permission, then, I shall return to my usual duties and activities." She pads to the door, following behind the Oracle.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

OOC: You read my mind!

Cassandra looks at the man, caught like a fly in amber. "So, who was it who hired you to do this?"

Cassandra continues to concentrate to get as good a focus on this guy that she can.

[The_Snark]

Morana

"I serve myself, first and foremost; Moraei, since her service advances my interests; others, for as long as that serves my purposes." She regards Ekaa for several seconds, weighing what she wants to say. Honesty was required, of course—but she needed to ensure she could still take this opportunity. It seemed very likely this was what the odd reading had been telling her of.

"Any superior can be a rival. Those who forestall the advancement of those below them are, obviously. Those who take an interest in those below them... are often rivals, in a different sense. They offer advancement, but they are rarely willing to let their associates rise to their level or past. Even if they are, a former patron can be dangerous."

"I do not say this to decline your mistress's offer; I say it so that she will know precisely where we stand with one another. I am willing to work with her; I am not willing to tie myself to her and accept only what influence she gives me forever. Not all rivalries end in death."

[Proven_Paradox]

Coulda sworn I posted something like this yesterday... Ah well.

Fern answers plainly and simply. "Power is a..." She pauses as she struggles to come up with the right word--her poltergeist making an annoying sound like the ticking of a clock in the meantime. At last, she settles on a word and continues, "...complicated thing to quantify. A hidden dagger in the night is far more likely to cause change than a bare sword in the sun. My power if of the former sort; subtle, and at its best when no one knows it's at work at all. Mine is the power to direct and enable others, in a way. Maybe I am not so powerful myself... But when I am with allies, they and I are all stronger.

As for Moraei..." She pauses and seems to be considering her answer quietly, looking to be deep in though. The annoying ticking noise continues. "She speaks truth and common sense. The weak die, and those who are strong seek to become stronger or become weak. I live by these teachings. The temple enables others to reflect and live by these teachings better. As long as Moraei's word is thus, I will follow her teachings--my faith is perhaps not as much to the goddess herself, but what she represents. As for her other followers... If I can grow in power by harming another, I will do that. If I grow stronger in the process of aiding another in their own growth, I will do that too. It simply depends on the situation."

[AmberVael]

-Cassandra-

"I wasn't hired, heretic!"
The assassin snarls at her, spitting in his anger. He writhes against the strength of the webbing, but to no avail, finding himself helplessly caught, unable to eve budge himself an inch.
Cassandra senses his thoughts, and notices that it is indeed the truth. A higher ranking priest sent him, but in the frantic flurry of his mind, she can't quite determine who or why just yet.
"You can kill me, but there will be more..."
He glares at her.
In his mind, he's a lot less convinced that there will be other assassins, but he's really hoping it will scare her. Just a bit. Sadly, it's hard to scare someone who knows that you're probably bluffing and can read your thoughts.

-Fernalia-

"Ah. So you have no faith in Moraei, just her teachings. That's a very dangerous sentiment, especially said in a situation like that we find ourselves in."
Dve narrows his eyes at her, his demeanor slightly shifting, almost hostile even though he remains seated, taking no action whatsoever. He crosses her arms and watches her extremely closely.
"Do you think Yvelle would be pleased with such words? That you can dismiss the goddess she speaks for as entirely irrelevant to your faith? There are many who might kill you for speaking such heresy. What do you think of that?"
He cups his hands in front of him, his body tense.

-Morana-

Ekaa smiles faintly.
"Yvelle is well pleased with your reasoning and intellect. Many superiors would be unwilling to accept any but the most obedient, and would break their servants until they followed no path but the one set for them. Yvelle, however, sees the folly in such action, even if others do not.
"If you desire to enter her service, go to the catacombs at dawn tomorrow."
Ekaa stands and bows deeply to Morana as the mark of Yvelle fades from his head.
"Though I speak for Yvelle, know that I have my own tongue, and I give you this warning with it: Yvelle is no one to be trifled with. She will respect you, work with you, and teach you many things- but betrayal and hostility will be turned back at you and will lead to death.
"Even a High Priest quakes at the sound of Moraei's Voice raised in anger. Do not provoke it."
The red robed priest bows once more.
"Your first test of the Culling is complete. If you have no need for my services or have no questions for me, I will return to other duties."

-Vienne-

"As you will, Vienne. Meet me here at dawn tomorrow- I believe that is when the others will arrive as well. You will meet them then."
She opens the door with a wave of her hand, then moves out into the main area of the catacombs, walking slowly and delicately.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra truly looks taken aback. "Heretic? In what way am I a heretic?!? I didn't ask for these visions, and if I was allowed to give them away I'd be happy to give them to you, or the priest who sent you!" She looks at him, calming slightly, and smiles evilly, "Of course, you might be part of my culling... or... the one who sent you might mean for me to be part of your culling!"

This round should achieve maximum effect of Detect Thoughts. Cassandra will continue to maintain her concentration on the spell.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern notes the change in demeanor. She raises an eyebrow and continues calmly, "I fear you perhaps misunderstand... I do have faith in Moraie herself, though her teachings--because of her teachings. I think the teachings are the most important part of a faith. Tell me, if Moraie were to suddenly teach that power is a sin, would you still follow her? I personally would have a difficult time acknowledging that it were even the same goddess. Such a supposition is purely hypothetical, of course. My faith in Moraie herself is true, and I express my faith by following her teachings as best as I can."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne follows Yvelle out of the catacombs, taking a different turning almost as soon as they are through the final doors. She stops by the nearest fountain to wash the dirt of the catacombs from her feet. She weighs her options for a moment, before deciding against a swim, and instead making her way slowly and gracefully to the halls where the harlots ply their trade, and where her own rooms are. She settles into one of the waiting rooms, lounging against a couch with a drink in hand-- water, if truth be known-- looking to see if any men of power are interested in her craft tonight.

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana gives a slight shake of her head. "That will be all."

Once alone in her chambers, she stands for a while, thinking the conversation over carefully. So she had been noticed, and by someone of importance. Of course, if she had not been observant, Yvelle would not be where she stood today. Of course, the Voice's actual authority was nebulous, but Morana thought that it probably took more cunning to carve out a position that was apparently unique than to step into an existing one.

Objectively, it was gratifying to have been singled out, but Morana found herself irritated and restless. That little part of her that wanted to boast and have others recognize her... now she knew why she kept it so tightly repressed. She'd told Ekaa the truth, even abandoning her word-games as his questions became pointed, and she'd hated it. Her clever ploys were only clever when they were not revealed; laid out in the open like that, they were no more clever than a corpse could be menacing, no matter how great it had been in life. It had made her feel faintly foolish, and she hated that too. It had also made her vulnerable to Yvelle, stripped her of a layer of defenses, and she hated that most of all.

She shook her head and began her nightly rites; she wanted to be well-rested for dawn tomorrow. First a simple, repetitive pattern laid out in sand rings the borders of the room, to warn against intrusion. An intricate sigil on the inside of the door, drawn in an alcoholic ink that would fade into invisibility as it dried, would provide both a second warning and an unpleasant deterrent to anyone impolite enough to bypass the lock on her door. Another pattern, this one a circle picked out in silver flakes, lies in the center of the room, to ward off hostile magic—a smaller sigil in the center wards against more conventional attacks. A final scribbled pattern tells her whether her protective runes will see use tonight, and so on...

It is not a quick process, and as always she finds it a calming, so that by the time she has channeled magic through the frameworks and picked what she could off the floor, she is ready for sleep.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

Cassandra can feel in his mind that she had spoken the truth. The Culling was definitely tied into this, even if other reasons were woven around it, like the accusation of her being a heretic.
"Moraei curse you!"
He does a strange twist and barely manages to free himself from the majority of the webbing, but before either of them can act, he draws out a blade and slits his throat with it. Blood sprays over the webs, trickling down his body and to the floor, while his corpse flops limp against the webs, sticking there nastily, bobbing a bit in a grim, mocking manner.
Suddenly, there is a flash of fire- the web ignites, burning away instantly, and the charred corpse of the assassin falls to the ground before crumbling into ash that evaporates into the air, leaving behind no trace of him.
A small scroll drops to the floor, and upon picking it up, one of the two will be able to read this:
Cassandra and her servant-
The attempt on your life is but a part of what is to come. A plan has been set in action, and though it may not take your life, much will soon be changed in the Temple of Moraei. Cassandra, I know what you have seen this night, and it is a foretelling of what is to come.
The temple will be tested, and it will grow stronger, but only if the flow of blood is stopped before it becomes too great to be stopped. The talented of the temple are being called together so that an untimely end may be prevented...
Cassandra- if you wish to understand your visions, there is much that can be taught to you. Agamemnon- to protect your mistress, there are things that you must learn and do before it is too late.
If you wish to further yourselves and the temple, return to your rooms and meet me in the catacombs at dawn tomorrow.

At the bottom is Yvelle's seal, blazing with such magic and power that no one could possibly have replicated it.

-Fernalia-

"A goddess should be respected, no matter her teachings..."
Says Dve quietly, folding his hands together.
"But Yvelle is pleased with your words, no matter what others might do in response to them. Do not fear from her."
Dve relaxes once more, and his ease in the change implies that his former reaction was but an act. He rises to his feet and bows to Fernalia.
"Yvelle is looking for those who might serve her and think in like minded manner. Things in this temple are going to change, and in these times she is gathering together the most talented for the good of the temple, and in the name of Moraei.
"If you wish to join her, come to the catacombs tomorrow at dawn."
Deve bows to Fernalia again, then swiftly leaves out of the back door of the chapel, leaving the body on the altar.

-Morana-

Ekaa bows before leaving her chambers, and silence slowly falls, the night and darkness taking Morana as she passes into sleep.
A strange dream comes to her, a vague dream of blood and death, with the grim visage of Moraei watching from above... but it soon fades into other dreams which are more natural.
(I'll go ahead and skip your timeline to next morning. Everyone else should catch up soon).
The dawn comes, signaled by the boom of drums used by those dedicated to Babde, waking those dedicated to the Hand, those who believe in action and directness. The sounds of her followers stirring very softly and subtly pervades Morana's quarters as they get ready for the morning devotions.

-Vienne-

As it happens, the rooms are quite sparsely populated, the people there so few that it is almost troubling. Vienne's fellows, along with anyone who might come seeking them, are strangely absent, leaving an obvious void and silence.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon wrinkles his nostrils at the cloying scent of char while bending down to pick up the scroll.

Reading it over he raises his eyebrows before holding it out to Cassandra. "It definitely seems to be from the Voice." He narrows his eyes. "I intend to go, if only to find out how she was involved with... this. Which of course means you're coming with me."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra reads the scroll over his shoulder. "Yes, you're right. You're coming with me... in the morning. Let's get some sleep for now. I'm sure whomever wants this all on the hush-hush will clean everything up tonight." She turns and walks back toward her chambers with a gentle sway to her hips.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern begins forming a retort in her mind, but then the man announces his intention to leave. She returns his bow respectfully and watches him leave silently. Her lights seem to waver as if in farewell to the man for a moment, and a dull, low chime sounds from nowhere.

Once he has left, she slowly approaches the corpse of Ochelo on the altar, glaring into his dead eyes with a frown, idly wondering what the disgusting old man might have been planning for a moment--before suppressing thoughts of the distasteful possibilities that arose. After less than a minute of such reflection, she casually exits the temple the way she came, finally rolling her sleeve back down to conceal her wand bracer.

Should nothing interesting happen in the meantime, she will venture to the catacombs at the dawn of the next day.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon scowled, his mouth opening and closing a few times speechlessly. He should really have gotten used to this by now.

Catching up to her side in two long strides he placd his hands on her shoulder's and steered her towards his own adjoining room.

"Very well, but you'll sleep in my room, as it's safer."

Giving her a gentle shove towards the bed, he takes up a position on the floor near the door.


Assuming it's only a few hours till dawn anyways, and I've had about 4 hours of sleep, Agamemnon will stay awake and keep watch till dawn.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra loses some of her assuredness when he directs her to his room. When he shoves her toward the bed with an unexpected roughness she turns to look at him, her eyes wide... perhaps with the tiniest gleam of hope in them. Then her face falls when she sees him crouching by the door. She turns as quickly as she can to hide her face, wiping away a single tear. She doesn't bother to turn as she disrobes and lets her clothes fall to the floor. She climbs into his overlong bed, pulling up the covers with her back to him and tries to sleep... the smell of the bedclothes though... his smell is driving her crazy.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne frowns at the emptiness of her usual haunts. She spends little time there, heading to bed early-- time enough to investigate the matter later. For now, she needs to rest, trancing lightly through the night, to be ready to meet her appointment in the morning. She spends an hour or so in her morning ablutions, cleaning and perfuming herself and wrapping clean scarves about her body. Nevertheless she arrives an hour early, and settles against a wall outside the passageway to the catacombs, casually waiting. She notes the passage of anyone, but waits in the temple proper until Yvelle arrives, then follows the Oracle down, several yards to her rear.

[AmberVael]

The night passes quickly, and when the next day arrives, the temple begins stirring, quite a number of people strangely excited over something. As the few that Yvelle had selected make their way towards the catacombs, they may hear snatches of conversation about a swift and harsh beginning to the Culling- one that left a rather disturbing amount of people dead.

Vienne is the first to arrive at the catacombs, and in the early morning they are unearthly quiet and cold, a chillness emanating from them that even reaches where she stands. Within a quarter of an hour, Yvelle arrives and smiles faintly at her, putting one hand on her shoulder before moving past and down into the dark halls of the dead she is so familiar with.

Yvelle says nothing, but continues to wait, and her patience is rewarded as Agamemnon and Cassandra arrive next, and Fernalia soon after them.
"I think this is most of you..."
Her eyes flick over them, looking for Morana, but she turns her attention away from that and back towards those who are there.
"While we're waiting on the last one of you... no doubt you have questions?"

[Proven_Paradox]

Fernalia places her hands behind her back, lights of a vaguely tirangular shape dancing about her at random. A low, quiet ringing noise can be heard from an indeterminate direction; almost like the chime of a very distant bell. Fern knows it to be a product of her poltergeist, but says nothing to the others about it. She gives a polite bow to Yvelle and says, "Many questions come to mind, but I would think a general explanation of the situation will begin when the last person arrives, no? I think it would be best to hold my queries until after you speak on the matter at hand; many would be answered during that."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne lets her distaste for the catacombs show on her face and in her body language. She practically cringes with every step and does her best to appear shallow to the others until she's more sure of them. "Did you have to pick such a dirty place for us to meet, Oracle?" she asks of Yvelle, refraining from the more obvious 'mistress' as a term of address, not wanting to reveal too much about her connections with Yvelle too soon. Better they think her nothing more than a harlot-- one with connections, surely, but just as shallow and hedonistic as the rest of them-- for now.

[The_Snark]

Morana

The drums wake her a little later than she would have wanted, and she rises and dresses quickly, to make up for lost time. By her reckoning, it was already about time for her meeting with the Voice. It would be hard to tell time exactly in the catacombs, but still...

Her morning rites, unfortunately, cannot be rushed too much, and so it is some minutes after dawn that Morana's heavy footsteps sound in the catacombs. The woman herself soon follows, pausing as she sees multiple others gathered to appraise them narrowly; she does not seem to like what she sees. Or perhaps her expression is always like that.

Nonetheless, she moves to join the gathering, gazing evenly at the Oracle and waiting for her to speak first.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The oracle tosses and turns for some time, then finally takes care of her problem with a bit of manual dexterity and some very vocal enthusiasm. The smell actually helps her reach her favorite fantasy quickly, and when she is finally exhausted she glances over at her bodyguard and smiles sweetly, "Good night, Memni..." She turns over and drifts off to some pleasant dreams for a change. When she awakens, she throws back the bedclothes and rises, going over to the basin and gives herself a quick refresh. She uses a cantrip to clean her clothes and then dresses, turning to her bodyguard after not looking at him through this whole process. "Shall we go to the catacombs?"

I'm going to have to find another lover soon... I'm getting cruel toward Memni again. It's not his fault he's a complete idiot, most men are.

ooc: I had thought Agamemnon would post first, gave him some time to, but he didn't.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon restlessly sat through the night, fidgeting here and there, both out of discomfort and worry over Cassandra. In the morning, he couldn't help but notice Cassy seemed especially withdrawn. He sighed. Last night had gone poorly in more than one regard.

At her question, he nodded assent. "Yes. We should be going."

Moving through the hallways, keeping Cassandra nearby at all times. When they reached the catacombs, he was irritated, if not surprised at the presence of others.

He too waited in silence, a dark glower on his face.

[AmberVael]

Yvelle raises an eyebrow at the lack of... significant questions, and does not even acknowledge Vienne's voiced distaste. Instead, she winds among the raised bones and coffins of the interred, slowly leading the group deeper into the catacombs, further and further into the past of the temple's dead. The catacombs are an infrequently visited place- the temple of Moraei rarely respected those who had died, for they were too weak to have survived, whether from old age or failure in some other form. The only use for corpses- said many- were in their necromantic potential.
Strange then, that the Voice of Moraei would spend so much time among them- that she would choose this place to meet them all.
"You may have heard the murmurings in the temple by now. We have barely arrived at the first day of the culling, and already the death toll mounts with surprising swiftness. In none of the years before have so many died in their tests...
"Do not think it is chance- but nor is it a sign that our temple is weak. The Culling is simply being made more dangerous."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra looks at Yvelle with respect, but much less awe than most, simply because she also receives visions from Anann. "May I ask what vision you have recieved that leads you to this understanding and what about that vision has caused you to gather us together?"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon couldn't care less about the enviroment of the catacombs, or even that the woman who summoned them held a position of power within the temple. At this point, anything and everything could be a threat to Casandra. Especially the unfamiliar; and right now, he was surrounded by it.

Standing at his full height he glared around the room, carefully assessing the situation and studying the catacombs current, living occupants. He recognized most of them by sight, and in a few cases reputation, although he had never personally spoken with any of them. Perhaps they were decent people. Perhaps not. Either way, right now all they were were potential threats.

Turning his glare back on the Voice, he leaned forward, towering well over everyone else. Her pronouncement that the Culling had been more dangerous was worrying. He cared little for the political merit of her words. All it meant was that he had to be even more watchful. "What do you know of the assassins last night? Who sent them."

[Proven_Paradox]

Fernalia raises an eyebrow at the brown haired woman's question. "Visions aren't the only way to know things... Listen to the talk around town. I know I heard at least two conversations about people failing in their first Culling on my way here, and I wasn't even trying to find such conversations."

She turns her gaze back to Yvelle. "I suspect I have you to thank for avoiding an unusually unpleasant Culling myself this morn? In such a case you have my gratitude." She pauses to give a short bow, before she continues--this time, as she speaks, another voice joins her from nowhere, high-pitched and slightly delayed, as if a small child were repeating Fern's words back to her mockingly. "Has there been a rhyme or reason behind these deadly encounters? Some pattern to suggest these killings are guided by some hand unseen?" Fern doesn't seem to even acknowledge the other voice.

It strikes me that I haven't added Fern's description to any of these posts. Lemme remedy that here...Portraithttp://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/Proven_Paradox/Untitled-3.jpg

Fernalia--"Fern" as those who know her well call her--has a striking appearance. Her hair is smooth, straight, and black as night, falling to her hips (save for a few strands that rest directly over her eyes, which are cut very short). The edges of her hair are cut so that each strand ends at the same level, uncannily straight. This and her deathly pale skin together add an almost otherworldly contrast to her overall appearance. Her green eyes are bright, almost subtly glowing it seems. A small nose rests above lips that are almost as white as her skin in hue.

She is short and of an average-light build. Her body lacks the seductive curves most men seem to lust after--she is certainly feminine in shape, but her hips and chest have not filled out as fully as many women. She also lacks muscle toning of pretty much any type, seeming quite frail by most human standards. She has no birthmarks, scars, or tattoos.

She prefers simple dresses of dark hues--mostly reds, blues, greens, and purples. Aside from magical items and such, she wears no jewelry.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne takes Yvelle's lack of response to her complaining to be an indication that she doesn't entirely approve of the act, and she responds with a more astute comment. "Likely the change in how the Culling is performed is at the direction of the new high priest."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra glances once at Fernalia, raising her own brow, then goes back to looking at Yvelle, waiting for her answer.

Talk to me about the unimportance of visions when Anann has seen fit to send you some... then you can wax eloquent to me about how you preferred it when you picked up gossip in the market instead of having to look through the eyes of the goddess.

[AmberVael]

"I have had no vision. More often than not, I rely on the power of my own eyes rather than the few gifts of knowledge Moraei sees fit to send, which are more often to torment and strengthen the mind than to truly give knowledge and fortelling."
Yvelle cups her hands in front of her as she stands before them, the hood of her black and red robe hanging low to the point where it is difficult to see her eyes. The gesture she has made almost seems to convey a sense of duty and burden, of holding something that no one else can see.
"And indeed, all of the answers to these questions is the same- they all lead back to the new high priest. He has seen fit to raise the difficulty of the Culling to the point that the worshipers who make it through alive were either lucky... or favored. The mounting death toll is something he has caused and is responsible for.
"Worshipers are given more dangerous assignments, sent into lethal fights with one another to make sure that at least one of them dies. Some are assigned to kill 'heretics' in the temple which do not exist, as you had the pleasure of finding out, Agamemnon."
Yvelle looks over to the warrior, and the one glance he gets at her eyes is intensely unsettling. Somehow it reminds him of Cassandra and her visions in particular... but far more distinct, as if that sort of sight was carried with the woman eternally. However, Yvelle swiftly turns her gaze away and towards the others, keeping her eyes partially concealed behind her hood so that they will not see what Agamemnon had managed to see.
"I have called you here so that we may work against him, as Moraei finds needed. I would not act directly to oppose him yet, but there are things to be done that will set the battlefield for the time to come."

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern listens quietly and nods slowly as she concludes. "So the new high priest seeks to reduce the following to include only those he favors? Interesting." Her tone is flat and unamused as she says this, a frown on her face. She brightens up a bit, half-smiling and speaking in a brighter tone. "I have no interest in watching that happen idly--I'll help in what way I can."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra looks thoughtful, "I do not see a problem with taking actions as you have laid them out. What do you want us to do?"

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne nods agreement with Cassandra. "Cassandra asks the right question, Oracle. What do you want us to do?" She smiles at the young woman with her protector. "Yes, I've heard your name, Cassandra. Although I don't believe I know everyone here by name. Perhaps a good starting point would be to share a little of what each of us are capable of? If I have to rely on you, I'd like to know what I'm relying on." She moves slowly, with practiced grace, walking past each person in the room-- besides Yvelle, of course-- sizing them up. Her gaze lingers longer on the oversized Agamemnon, but that may just be due to his excessive height.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon stares down at the woman, not bothering to hide the fact that he is largely disinterested.

"I protect Cassandra. If our actions involve that, I have no issues."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

If the fey-blooded woman notes Agamemnon's disinterest, it doesn't appear to faze her-- although perhaps she just missed it. His comment however, doesn't escape her notice-- particularly by what he's not saying. "And would that protection extend to the rest of us, if we find ourselves in need of it? Not that I would ask you to choose to defend me at the risk of her life-- it would be foolhardy to put trust in such an expectation-- but if we are to work together, some level of understanding should be reached. So tell me, giant, can I rely on your arm in my defense-- or in the defense of these other women-- or can I rely on you to only raise your arms in defense of Cassandra?" Vienne gestures at Fern and Morana when she mentions 'other women'; the action is carried out with the same grace and fluidity that fills all her movements. "And what if a plan of action puts her life at some moderate level of risk? Will you turn against us all in order to protect her?"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon bends down, bring his face close to that of Vienne, and speaks in a low voice. "Cassandra will always come first."

Straighening slightly, but still keeping the same tone of voice he continues. "However, if all you and...these other women," his mouth turns upward ever so slightly into a sneer, "prove yourselves worth protecting, then I will do what I can."

He glances, almost furtively at Cassandra, before his gaze snaps back. "As for turning against you? Don't turn against me or my charge." He bares his teeth to emphasize the last statement.

"I'm sure, those conditions met, we will get along just fine. Cassandra comes first though. And if she exits the picture, do not trouble yourself on my behalf, as I shall take my own life."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra looks at Agamemnon and smiles, as if everything he has said is all she would expect. "Agamemnon, my dear friend... Yvelle has gathered us for an important purpose for all of the worshipers of Moraei. You know how important the goddess is to me. I would like, very much, if you can extend your protection to these ladies, for if Yvelle is right, all of our fates are now intertwined. I don't expect you to go against your vows... goodness knows how many times I've tried to get you to do that... but I do hope you will think of these ladies as extensions of myself, since we are all working together. If I should fall, then I hope you will see all of them to a place of safety before you seek to join me in Moraei's embrace."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

The giant looked pained for a moment, at the mention of his vows. But he could not deny her.

"Very well."

Turning to the rest, he speaks again, bowing his head. "It appears as though I shall serve as your guardian as well."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"Well and good," Vienne says, dipping her head gracefully in acknowledgment of Agamemnon's comments. "You fight, or protect, if you prefer. I listen-- and I'm unobtrusive. Harlots can go pretty much anywhere we please, and often overhear things. It's something I can readily contribute to the cause."

[AmberVael]

Yvelle turns away from the group and slowly paces over to one of the many corpses around them, sliding an arm behind her back in a position reminiscent of a fencer's. She looks down at the skeletal figure, then smirks a bit before glancing over at the others.
"First, we have to make sure that he won't target you with any more attempts. To do that, you have to make yourselves useful to him in some way- to garner his favor. To this end, I have made sure that each of you has been selected to do the work of one of his favored priests of Babde. I know that some of you, perhaps, are not as fond or familiar with such work, but in our new priest's eyes, the work of Babde may be far more important than any other aspect."
The Voice turns to them and gives each of them a piercing look, the strangeness in her eyes clear to all of them now, though some perhaps did not understanding the meaning of it. It just seemed strange- like a distance... or more like that instead of looking at them, she was looking at a whole that included them. She had an encompassing gaze, one might say- but there was so much more than that.
"Let me simply add this: the high priest does not intentionally kill those he favors, but nor will he care if they die. To him, all the deaths here serve a greater purpose- to him, the focus is on those dying, and not on those who will survive. Strange, perhaps... but I believe that making sure his favored are all that remain is not entirely his goal. There is a point to these deaths."
She looks down at the skeleton once more, an unusual smile on her face as she contemplates the musty bones. After a moment more she looks back to them all, her expression very serious.
"As such, much of your work will involve killing. Mostly outside of the temple proper... but there will be a few within who may fall under your jurisdiction. There is something more he is trying to start, and I think by taking this specific work, you may find out. It is a plan he has not revealed yet, and the instant there is a chance to know, I want to find out."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon nodded. Although he was still highly suspicious of everyone present--especially the Voice--what was being suggested was highly reasonable. If the high priest was the one behind the attacks, then the first course of action was to alleviate any suspicion he had against them all.

"Very well. If we are to do this thing, then we should not tarry about it. Unless anyone has final words?"

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern shifts subtly as the nature of their work; a particularly sharp eye might note the shadow of a frown on her face for a moment. More chimes from a distant bell that doesn't actually exist sound around the group, and lights dance around Fern's fingers as she places her hands behind her back. "Very well then. If that's what needs to be done, we should begin." Her tone is difficult to interpret--decidedly neutral.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The oracle nods, "Do we present ourself to the high priest, or do you have some other method we should follow?"

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"What ways would the high priest consider us to be useful? Is there anything in particular he's looking for?"

[AmberVael]

"There is a priest of Babde you will report to- you'll get a written notification soon, I don't doubt. As for culling favor with the high priest, just work with that priest... I don't want any of you speaking or interacting with the high priest directly. There is already a chance he'll find out what is going on- and he's a clever and powerful man. If he met in person, it would risk everything. I want you to be favored, but low key. Safe, but out of sight and mind. Understand?"
Yvelle says, her voice almost commanding. It seems strangely like a scolding mother's tone...

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"What is the high priest's fascination with Babde? It seems most of his supporters follow that aspect."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The mage considers Vael's words, "I will go and await notification then, Yvelle, unless you have some further instructions. I'm afraid my wits are slow this morning, I keep asking questions that you've already answered."

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern shrugs. "Out of sight and mind, I can do. It sounds like all that's left to do right now is prepare and await our message."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon nods. "Where she goes, I go. We will await word."

[AmberVael]

"I do not think it so much a fascination with Babde as it is that he finds her followers most useful to his cause; as his cause is ruthlessly pruning the temple, I think you can understand how that works."
Yvelle smiles thinly, then begins walking away from them, moving towards the deeper catacombs.
"We'll speak again soon, I don't doubt."
She walks a little further, then pauses, glancing back at them as if she had just remembered something.
"Cassandra- come with me. I wish to speak with you alone for a moment."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon wordlessly prepares to follow his charge.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern gives a polite bow as the Voice walks away. She arches an eyebrow curiously as she calls for Cassandra, but says nothing more of it.

She will make her way back to the city and pass the time in places where gossip and information is exchanged, trying to get a gauge on just how wide-spread word of the unusual lethality of the Culling had become, and any other interesting bits of information--all taken with a liberal helping of salt of course, but such information usually contains bits of truth worth investigating.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne takes the necessary few steps to put herself besides the giant. She rests a hand lightly on Agamemnon's arm, not enough to apply pressure or restraint, just enough to get his attention. "She did say 'alone'."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon stares down at the hand resting on his arm. "Remove your hand. I would dislike having to break my promise so soon after I made it. Keep to your own business."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra looks Agamemnon in the eye and smiles, "It's all right... if Yvelle wished me dead, I would be already. Wait here, please, protect all of your charges my friend." She turns and walks over to Yvelle.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon stares at Cassandra, appearing to consider her words. "Very well. But this time only."

He looks back at Vienne's hand. "You'll still need to move that hand."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne removes her hand wordlessly. She turns and walks away, pausing once outside the catacombs to bathe her feet in the nearest pool and wait for Yvelle to pass by her.

[AmberVael]

-Cassandra-

Yvelle smiles thinly at the scene Agamemnon makes, and then moves further into the catacombs with Cassandra, walking slowly and silently for a time. The catacombs show no sign of deviating in terms of appearance- it's all medium sized passages, filled with the interred dead of the temple, each body collected and stored within the labyrinth. It is kept clean enough to be tolerable, but in some places there are dust and cobwebs, particularly around the bones that Yvelle seems so fascinated with.

"Not many in this temple find themselves with the gift of sight, Cassandra. There are some who would say that you've been blessed..."
She lets that linger in the air for a while before filling in the silence, a wry smirk crossing her face as she continues speaking.
"I think we both know well enough to disagree with that assessment of the talent.

"There are oracles in the world, people who can see the future, the present, and the past. Some are even tied to gods- but in truth, none of these possess remotely the same type of vision that an oracle of Moraei does."

Yvelle turns to Cassandra, stopping her walk through the catacombs, her dark robes swishing with aborted momentum for a moment while Yvelle composes herself, looking Cassandra in the eyes with a seriousness and focus that draws her attention utterly.

"You have seen what other oracles we have. You have learned what you can from them- what they intend to teach you, and what they do not. You have learned that there are circumstances that can help bring about visions- observance of sacrifices and deep dwelling on Moraei- and you have also learned that even the best of her oracles can be driven completely, entirely, insane by their visions.
"But you have also learned from them things that are lies. Lies, I feel, that should be pointed out to you and corrected, lest they lead you down the wrong path."

"They have told you that this- even if difficult- is a gift from Moraei. A power of foresight and knowledge given to you for a purpose that only the goddess can fathom. That the difficulty it causes stems from the nature of the goddess and her teachings- only those that can control it are worthy of it. But... my understanding of Moraei has made me perceive it differently.
"Your visions are not a gift from Moraei. Nor are they a test. Moraei, in fact, does not intend to grant visions to her followers at all."
Yvelle smiles darkly and gestures with one hand.
"There are some who are inexplicably attuned to the goddess more than others. They manage to see imperfect glimpses from her eyes, hear echoes of her thoughts and feel what it is to be the dread goddess. Those are your visions, Cassandra."

"The nightmares, the agony and madness stem from two things... a mortal's attempt to see from a perspective of someone far greater than they- and the very nature of our goddess. We do not worship a kind goddess, nor even an impartial one. Our goddess is a goddess of blood and death, and her very being reflects that."

Yvelle looks deep into Cassandra's eyes, and the young oracle fully sees what Agamemnon saw in them- the power of oracular vision- of understanding and connection with Moraei that she only gets in brief glimpses, but that Yvelle seems to possess completely. The darkness and power there draws in her, and Cassandra feels that she falls helplessly into a black gaze that is far greater than Yvelle herself.
And then Yvelle turns her gaze away, and Cassandra is freed from the spell they seemed to have cast over her.

"You have known- if ever so briefly and imperfectly- what it is like to be our goddess. Take that as you will."

-Fernalia-

Word does seem to have spread outside the temple- more disturbingly, it seems that the deaths have as well. Fernalia hears of entire families with no real relation to the temple at all that were slaughtered, and then their bodies stolen in the night. The temple is still staunchly supported, for the most part, but those few who had harbored doubts are now quietly whispering them to others, wondering just why it is that Moraei called for such bloody and widespread execution.

However, this is not all Fernalia finds. By luck, chance, or by skill, she finds herself in conversation with a most singular man in a small, out of the way tavern...

The tavern, a higher up, more noble place called the Black Cauldron, is a multi level affair which receives a fair bit of custom. The ground floor is designed purely for eating and drinking, but the upstairs is a gambling area, also known for its other more private dealings- nothing illegal, though one would be hard pressed to find something that was illegal in this place- but things that people just didn't want to be common knowledge. Fernalia had watched and even gambled a little bit (though only a token amount), and eventually found herself talking to a man in a very dressy gray outfit who was keeping very close tabs on all the gossip and temple affairs.

Having found his knowledge both useful and curious, Fernalia continued their conversation after the gambling, and they're now talking in a quieter booth off to one side. The man is black haired and possessed of light blue eyes- a light colored cape swirled around his shoulders stylishly, with matching gloves that he just tugged off his hands so as not to wet them while handling his drink.

"I find this all to be quite troubling, actually. A new high priest, a sudden wave of deaths... one has to ask themselves- is he trying to establish authority, or does he have some kind of plan? And if he's trying to establish authority, why doesn't he pick out specific targets? Make examples of those who have spoken out against him in the past?"

The man has a hint of distaste in his voice as he speaks.

-Agamemnon, Morana, and Vienne-

(I don't really have anything to add here... if you'd like to wait it out, then that works, or if you want something to 'magically' happen to give you something to do, I can work that in too. I'll even post it separately so you can post again before the next post.)

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young oracle lowers her eyes and nods, "I will carefully consider all you have said, Yvelle. One truth you speak is certain; lies are rife within Moraei's temple. It will take great discernment to sort the lies from the truth, would that it could be as easy as sorting chaff from the wheat, but words are far more difficult to master."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Sweaty and dusty from the events of the night before, Agamemnon searches for a place to rinse his face and hands. A dark scowl settles across his face as he realizes the only place that's at all nearby is the pool where Vienne sits.

He stiffly walks over to the edge of the cistern and bends to his knees, still towering compared to a normal sized person. He reaches down, and begins splashing water up into his face, with little regard for where it is going. And it did splash rather far. However, the action was more out of habit than an attempt to be directly rude.

In fact, when he looks up and notices what he did, he looks almost apologetic.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne doesn't seem to mind the impromptu shower at all, even if it did spot some of her silken scarves. She begins to remove several of the more flowing ones as she speaks, "You'll find I'm quite fond of water. In point of fact, since we are supposed to develop some level of, well, trust for lack of a better word, I'll show you something few people know." With her more bulky layers removed, she falls into the shallow pool, letting her body sink to the bottom-- the surface of the water a few scant inches from her face. She looks up at Agamemnon from inside the pool with an impish smile on her face, continuing to stay there long past the point of anyone being able to hold their breath.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fernalia takes a sip of her wine--a small bottle of a middle-of-the-road label, neither high nor low class, bought with the modest winnings of a few games. She tips the glass back just barely enough to wet her lips, more concerned with looking like she's drinking than actually enjoying the drink itself. A single orb of blue light seems to rest on top of the liquid, floating just above the surface, tilting and bobbing as she handles the glass. Her poltergiest has chosen a convenient time to make itself less disruptive, mimiking the sounds of a songbird outside, occasionally throwing the creak of an old board into the scene at random. She continues the conversation with the smartly dressed man with a neutral expression, her tone intentionally betraying only curiosity, trying to bait the man into divulging more of what he might know or might have heard without betraying her own knowledge or intentions.

"What you're saying makes a good deal of sense--if he's looking to cement his authority, I would think he'd make his strike more surgical, destroying those who'd opposed him in the past as you say. Yet the deaths are so wide-spread... One cannot help but wonder what his goals are."

If you'd like me to start including bluff or diplomacy checks in here, just let me know.

Also, the boards have been somewhat unreliable lately; if I stop posting suddenly it might be because I can't get the site to load.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Agamemnon's charge returns to his presence, "I suppose we should go and get some rest, Agamemnon. It has been a disturbing night, and likely to be a very strenuous time to come." She looks down, seeing Vienne in the pool. "What's up?"

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne resurfaces after having been down long enough to prove her point. She answers Cassandra's question. "Just a little attempt to build a rapport with your protector. I get the impression he doesn't accept outsiders easily. Seemed giving up a small secret would help." She looks to Agamemnon. "Did it?" She continues to sit in the pool, splashing the surface of the water gently with one hand.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

As Vienne pulls off pieces of her filmy clothing and sinks beneath the water, and it becomes clear that she is not surfacing for a while, Agamemnon simply sits in silence. Although just the slightest bit of surprise shows on his face, as he registers just what he is being shown.

As Cassandra returned just then, and Vienne resurfaced, he stayed silent until the strange woman posed her question to him. He nodded slowly, his head dipping in a low curve as he did so. "Perhaps. The thought is appreciated if nothing else."

Standing, he turned to Cassandra. "We should return to the chambers for now, unless you have further business."

Over his shoulder, he speaks to Vienne once more. "We will meet again soon, I think. Until then."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young woman nods, "Alright... perhaps I can catch up on my sleep a bit before we are summoned." She follows Agamemnon.

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana departs the meeting in silence as the oracle dismisses them, not bothering to stay and chat. If we are not to know one another, we may as well truly not know one another.

So. A harlot, two other women, and a bodyguard. Morana wonders why they were selected. The bodyguard, she dismissed; he'd spent as much attention watching the others as listening to the oracle's words, the mark of a dedicated bodyguard. He might be formidable in a fight with that height, but despite her nominal choice of Babde, Morana considered pure fighting ability to be useless without drive, and one thing a good dedicated bodyguard lacked was ambition. That made him predictable. The harlot had detailed her own strengths well, and outlined her flaws at the same time—she acted mostly through others. She might not be trustworthy, but in a way, she too was predictable. The last two were harder to place: both young, both unarmored and not armed. It would be a mistake to underestimate them because of that, of course: Morana was not armed or armored either, after all. Still, they had the look of followers of Anann or Machei, not Babde, and if Yvelle were attempting to balance Moraei's three aspects, at least one would follow Anann.

Which led her to wonder how Yvelle had made her selections. Had she really arranged for them to be chosen to carry out the high priest's tasks, as she said? Or had she taken the simpler route of finding out who the high priest would be using as pawns, and approached those she felt would be most amenable? It seemed... easier. Less reliant on having manipulators within the high priest's favored, only spies. It would be good to remember that Yvelle had eyes everywhere, and perhaps fingers as well. Useful, in a patron.

Her measured footsteps take her away from the catacombs, and back towards her assigned chambers...

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne nods acknowledgement to Agamemnon's comment, then floats idly in the water until the others have all gone. Once they've departed, she dresses herself again, drying off with a prestidigiation spell, then reenters the catacombs looking for Yvelle.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

The two begin the long walk back to their chambers, moving quietly through the large, empty halls that surround the catacombs. So few people come to this place, but attention on the culling, and the after effects of the culling, seem to have cleared them entirely. Any sound made is magnified, echoing around them almost accusingly. Agamemnon's weapons and armor are mercilessly loud, clinking and making other metallic noises difficult to muffle. They begin to jar at Cassandra, and she feels the beginnings of a head ache starting to form. A strange headache, more tension and pressure than one might expect... wait. Or maybe it isn't a headache.

She sees the flickers of a vision clouding around her sight, growing and strengthening , but not fully occurring. Normally visions rush in on her, but this time it is agonizingly slow and partial. She can see the hallway and Agamemnon- but there is also some strange flickering of dying, brilliant white light that fades into candle light, a candle with wax dripping down it that turns into blood leaking from a corpse. But it's all so faint that she can barely decipher it before the vision mostly fades away, still leaving the pressure and the faint images that cloud at the edge of her vision, but nothing that can really be see so easily.

Agamemnon, on the other hand, sees Cassandra slow down and cast her gaze around in confusion, then suddenly stop and limply start sinking towards the ground as her vision overtakes her. But she seems to retain some awareness of the world around her, which is entirely abnormal. It's rather disturbing to see her half in reality, half caught in vision.

Of course, the entire episode is disturbing to both of them. Cassandra never has visions so closely strung together, nor visions that are only partially formed. What is more, they tend to come on her when she is relaxed, not at every waking moment. They'd never hindered her like this before. Something strange was going on...

-Fernalia-

The man nods in agreement, but of course, why wouldn't he? She had practically echoed his every word, not that he seemed to notice. Maybe he was a bit arrogant and she was just stroking his ego in just the right way. With one hand, he brushes his hair away from his eyes, then narrows them a bit and leans closer, speaking lower. He seems to be more cautious and curious now.

"Right, that's exactly what I'm saying. See, I'm almost beginning to wonder if his goals are quite so good... I mean, anyone can make a mistake, or not make a wise choice, especially when they're pressured and given new responsibility, but what if it isn't a mistake? What if he's doing exactly what he wants to do, and that's going to get a lot more people killed?"

He's watching her warily, almost fearfully, as if he were wondering whether she'd attempt to turn him in or just plain disagree with him about the matter. After all, he was treading a very fine line, questioning the High Priest like that. The High Priest was the direct influence of Moraei on the world- questioning him was close to questioning the goddess herself. He continues a bit more hurriedly, trying to forestall anything like that, perhaps.

"I mean, I could be wrong, but if I'm not, think of what it could mean. There are people I care about- probably people you care about- that could get slaughtered just on some unexplained whim! Not a very nice thought, that."

-Morana-

Morana moves from the catacombs and back towards her chambers, thinking things over in her mind. The walk is long and most uneventful, but she notices something, especially after the talk with Yvelle had drawn their attention to the High Priest's favoritism of Babde's followers; as she moves from the catacombs (which is near Anann's portion of the temple) to her room (which is in Babde's portion), there is an increase of people and movement, as if Babde had a more populated temple, and that the activity there were stronger. Maybe it's just coincidence- after all, it is easiest to get into Babde's favor, and action is what Babde is about. But what if it is that the high priest has them all working? What if it is that there are more of them because the rest of the temple is being pruned away?

No matter what she decides or thinks about it, Morana makes it to her private chambers, which are just how she left them, devoid of people, lacking any kind of disruption. It's out of the way and private, as their name would suggest.

-Vienne-

Yvelle is slowly making her way towards the exit of the catacombs as Vienne approaches her, and as the Voice notes her pupil, she smiles a little, directing her attention towards her as she moves closer, every step slow and deliberate as she walks with that unhurried pace of hers.

"Vienne. Did you want to ask something? Perhaps you had some thoughts about the others that you wished to express to me?"

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

As they walked back to their chambers, Agamemnon had difficulty concentrating as he ran the events of the last hour through his head. Three women, and none who particularly looked as if they could handle themselves in an out and out close range fight.

Which was certainly not to say they were weak... Likely they were spell casters of some sort. Almost assuredly though they did have weaknesses, which apparently were Agamemnon's to guard against now. This would be difficult. Especially since he still wasn't thrilled over doing it. Every bit of effort he put towards protecting the others was effort that could not be expended towards Cassandra.

As this thought went through his mind he noticed Cassandra sinking slowly to the floor. Making a quick step he stretched out his arms and enfolded her before she could hit the ground. The only words he speaks are under his breath as he pulls her tight against him.

"Gods be damned, it's happening already."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young woman shivers and looks up at Agamemnon's face as he holds her in his arms, "Vision... broken... white light... candle... bloody corpse." She shudders and looks at him with little-girl eyes, "She said it was to no purpose... that I just catch glimpses of the goddesses mind because I'm attuned to her somehow. All this pain and anguish and it's to no purpose." She suddenly breaks down and begins sobbing.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Looking helpless as the young woman sobbed in his arms, Agamemnon felt almost as upset as Cassandra looked. He had to do something. Anything. He couldn't stand seeing her like this. It was happening more and more, and he couldn't stand it.

After one more tortured instant he tilted her head back and planted a kiss firmly on her lips, his face pressed tightly against hers as his arms found the way to the back of her neck.

And then he stopped.

He spoke in a deep growl, almost a snarl. "Quiet. Be quiet. Don't talk like that. Don't ever talk like that." He gave her a shake to emphasize his words. "I refuse to believe that your visions have no purpose. You are special Cassandra. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

His voice turned to a softer tone. "You've been doing so well. Don't let it be for nothing."

Silently, he swept her up into his arms for the second time that day and carried her back towards their chambers.


On the one hand, this is a bit sooner than I was planning on anything happening. But on the other, it seemed like the right thing to do.

I do think though that right now the furthest it should go is the kiss, unless you feel otherwise, Wiz.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Her mind fragmenting with despair, the young oracle suddenly feels hot lips pressed against hers and a pair of long arms enfolding her in a way that she has dreamed countless times. She relaxes into the kiss, simply existing for the eternal second until it is broken. She waits another eternity to see if it will be renewed, unable to reciprocate Agamemnon's hug, so completely do his arms enfold her. She opens her eyes and looks up into his face, his eyes alert and scanning ahead as he carries her effortlessly. She feels like a child, and at the same time, more like a woman than she's ever felt before. She closes her eyes and lets him carry her, not daring to speak lest the spell be broken.

You are my strength, Memni... I... I love you...

However you wish to handle it. I didn't know if we would ever resolve the *ahem* complications between these characters. Certainly if roleplay suggests that is the best course - I'm perfectly fine going along with it, or waiting and let the tensions build. ;)

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"Both, mistress. Why did you choose these in particular? They do not seem ready to work with anyone, let alone each other. The giant has some sense of loyalty at least, but he won't extend it past Cassandra. The others-- it's hard to gauge their potential. You must see more in them than I do, and I wonder what it is you know." She walks a pace behind Yvelle, moving at the same slow pace.

[Proven_Paradox]

Inwardly, Fern is grinning confidently. She'd dealt with this type before. She doubted she'd get much useful information from him, but one never knows... In the meantime, toying with him might prove amusing.

Outwardly Fern gives no hint of this internal monologue. Her face is a practiced mask of concern, with just a hint of a fearful frown at the dire implications of the man's words. She speaks with a very serious, hushed tone, by appearances trying to keep the conversation private to their table. "So... you think think this might be intentional? That is a bold claim..." She speaks that last bit almost reverently, awe-struck by the bravery needed to speak out like this. "But, I have to wonder, why? What could possibly motivate the high priest to do such?"

Bluff: (1d20+17=18) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1880010/)

...

Damn it all.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

By the time they reach the chambers, Cassandra's half-vision state has mostly faded away, though she continues to see the faintest flickers of something at the edge of her sight. Still, the experience was draining and disconcerting.

(Feel free to ignore this next section of text until you've finished roleplaying out this situation to your content, or until you've done other things you might be interested in.)

A while later, there is a knock at- surprisingly enough- Agamemnon's door.

-Fernalia-

((Luckily, he didn't roll much better than you did. Success.))

The man smiles in a way that makes Fernalia wonder if she sized him up right... he almost seems to look a little too satisfied with her response to what he said.

"I do think it might be... as for what, well..."
He looks around a bit- not so much warily but as to symbolize that this was a very quiet topic- and then leans even closer.

"See, it's no secret that the people in that temple are after power- it's their entire belief system, after all. Can't expect them to deny it. I think the high priest is going to try something- something big- and he wants everyone to fear him before he does it. He wants them to know he can kill anyone on no more than a whim.

"Of course, it's just speculation at this point, but the real thing important to us is that he holds this kind of power no matter what he plans on doing with it. So far he's shown us that he's willing to wipe people out with no explanation or reason. You have to ask yourself- are you really going to stand for that? Do you really approve of it? And... if you could... would you help someone who maybe was trying to put a stop to it?"
The man seems to have reached the point he was aiming for the entire time...

-Vienne-

"I did not choose them for their skills in cooperation, Vienne. Respect can be learned in time- time which I intend to give them. They are smart people- they know that working together will be their best option, even if it is not what they want. They know that inciting my anger against them is a poor idea. From there, things will develop, and they will be able to work as a group."

Yvelle smiles a little at Vienne as she moves a little closer to the entrance, then stops at a distance just close enough to where she would know if someone was coming, but to where if someone was coming they would have a hard time understanding what was being said.

"I chose them in particular for other reasons- they have talent, skill, and untapped potential. They seemed like they would be wise enough to recognize that just because the High Priest has that position, that does not make his every decision wise, nor ensure his loyalty to the church. I do not think they will betray me...
"What is more, I chose them because they had not attracted attention from the High Priest. Those who are powerful tend to gain more notice from higher authorities, and they hadn't quite managed to... yet. I snatched them before anyone else realized just how valuable they might be."

Yvelle pauses, then looks at Vienne with caution in her eyes.
"There is... one more reason. I chose them because they are- should it become necessary- expendable. It would be disappointing to waste such talent as theirs, but it is a loss that would be affordable. It cost me little to bring them here and have them spared. It was simple to arrange to get what I needed- at least relatively.
"I doubt it will ever come to that point, but I feel that you should know that- if it seems that they will be a danger to us or the temple- I am perfectly willing to sacrifice them. I have not put nearly enough time and effort into them as I have someone like you."

The Voice raises a hand to gently cup under Vienne's chin, speaking to her with a softer voice, more gentle and reassuring.
"You needn't fear that you will come to the same end by associating with them. Precautions have been made should you ever fall into a poor situation- I've no doubt I could pluck you out of the very grasp of the High Priest should I have to."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Reaching the chambers, Agamemnon once again goes to his own bedchamber and places Cassandra down on the bed tenderly. However as soon as his arms had left her skin he backs away, torn and uncomfortable.

He can only get one thing out: "Rest."

Retreating awkwardly, he backs to the wall, and leaning back against it, shuts his eye and slides down the wall till he ends up in a hunched crouch on the floor.

Cassandra...

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young heir of Cagliostro looks at her bodyguard, "I'm sorry that I'm so much trouble, Memni... but thank you. You saved my life again." She refrains from undressing before him, realizing how much her actions have been hurting him and pulls the covers up closing her eyes.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

The giant falls into a slumber of his own, until he is awoken by the knock at his door. Awake in an instant, he stands and, mindful of earlier events, grabs his spear before answering it.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"Thank you, mistress." She smiles at the Oracle, either comforted or pleased somehow by what she's heard. "I will do my best to keep them out of trouble, but I will be mindful of what you have told me about them. Do you have any other instructions for me, or should I go about my usual business until called for by the high priest's minions?"

[Proven_Paradox]

Inwardly, Fern raises an eyebrow. This isn't quite what she'd expected, but it's intriguing--and possibly useful. After all, a rebel leader doesn't want to be exposed until he's properly roused the rabble. The possibilities for extortion here are more than she's willing to pass up. And the way he says "they" when he speaks of Moraie's followers indicates he's an outsider. Just where is this man from? If he is what she is vaguely beginning to suspect, then the situation has become that much more interesting. But first, to get him to say more...

The young woman gives no outward sign of this inner monologue. Outwardly, Fern's eyes widen, and she scans the room as a show of caution. She then looks the man over, visually seeming to be truly seeing the man for the first time, her eyes respectful, bordering on reverent. In truth, she's gauging the man's strength, in case the discussion should take an unfortunate turn. She then begins speaking in a hushed, excited tone. "Are you saying... You know of such a group? I mean, who would have the courage or the power to defy the high priest? Just talking about it could get you killed here."

An observant onlooker might note that the sphere of light floating in Fern's wineglass has changed color, now a light purple with green forming smooth curves through it, somewhat similar to a pattern one might see stirring cream into coffee.

Bluff/Sense Motive: (1d20+17=22, 1d20+15=29) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1882361/)

That sense motive is for figuring out whether or not he's being truthful and for getting at any other motives he might have in this conversation. I'mma also do a quick assess opponent on him:

Assess: (1d20+15=27) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1882367/)

I'd have preferred a better bluff there, but so it goes.

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

There is a woman outside the door, short haired, a bit scarred, and wearing light leather combat armor. She gives a short, abbreviated bow to Agamemnon, dark hair waving with the motion. Formality conducted, she looks Agamemnon in the eyes, her expression militant and dutiful.
"Agamemnon?"
Without waiting for him to affirm or deny, she gives a little salute and then stands straight, speaking clearly.
"Third Priest Nestor has sent a message to you and the lady you serve. Between you and I, he will want a quick response."
She bows again, turns smartly and walks off, leaving him with the scroll.

Inside is a message.
To Cassandra and her Servant,

You have caught the attention of priests higher in Moraei's service. We find that your talents would be useful in the service of Babde, and require that you report to the Audience Chamber in the center of Babde's compound just before sun's Zenith. You will receive instructions and orders there.

[A perfectly craft signature reading "Nestor Neleus" is right below the terse message]

-Fernalia-

The man nods, leaning back a little smugly and gesturing to himself, obviously pleased with the reaction he has drawn from Fernalia so far. He picks up his drink and sips from it before speaking.
"I'm in such a group. As for my possible death... well, I already have that to fear from the actions of the high priest. Why should a second, identical threat cause me any more fear? If I have a chance of dying without cause or reason, it is no different from dying with cause or reason."
He leans forwards again, folding his hands in front of him.
"We're still a little small, but we're growing, and rapidly. If we can continue to muster forces, we may be able to make a change here."

Fernalia guess that he is either slightly weaker than her, or on par with her level of skill. She can't be sure.
He seems truthful, but there is a little more that he's leaving out...

-Vienne-

"I have nothing more planned for the moment, Vienne."
Says Yvelle softly. She seems to be waiting for something, however. A test? Yvelle did love testing Vienne, after all... perhaps there was something else to what she had been saying, or something that Vienne missed.

Yvelle gives no clues, if indeed there are clues to give or a puzzle to solve.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

As Agamemnon closes the door, holding the scroll, he hears Cassandra move up behind him. Normally he might expect her to take the scroll from him in an imperious manner and read it first... he might be surprised when he hears her speak in a subdued... almost a little-girl voice. "What does it say?"

[The_Snark]

Morana

The careful, methodical strokes of sand, ink and magic help Morana to collect her thoughts. She had a means of advancement at the First Temple now—a, singular. Not bad, she supposed, given that she had only arrived recently, but not particularly good either. She always preferred to have more options—especially when they depended so heavily on the goodwill and success of a superior.

But what Yvelle had said was important. If the high priest was culling (or Culling; hah!) those he did not favor from the temple, this presented a difficulty for her; she was not one of his favored. The turmoil provided many opportunities, but she was not established here, did not have rivals to strike out against, humiliate, or impress; it served whatever the high priest's purposes were, and it endangered her.

On the whole, she thought, she preferred Yvelle. A still, stagnant Temple would be easier to deal with than one in motion, aimed at unknown goals. She needed to know what those were. But the high priest would watch those he trusted with that secret...

With her incantations finished, Morana begins a set of physical exercises, to make up for missing the morning services. She wasn't required to attend, as a guest, but missing them too often would hardly help her quasi-priestess status.

If nobody comes by in the next couple hours, she will relocate to one of the more visible practice yards to continue her exercises.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon reads the scroll in silence, and the crumples it into his palm. A small smile spreads across his face.

"It seems Third Priest Nestor wishes our presence. We shouldn't keep him waiting." Turning to Cassandra now, "Are you able to go?"

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra looks down at her clothes, mussed and slept in. "I suppose I look a fright... but if you think it will be okay, we can go now."

[Proven_Paradox]

There. He's said it; with that, she could likely blackmail him. If she needed him destroyed, she could make it happen. If she wanted to extort aid from him, it could be done. In her mind, he's back into a corner and doesn't even know he's in a battle. Still, more details couldn't go amiss; a few vague suspicions she yet holds had neither been confirmed nor denied. Plus the sense that he's hiding something behind his words unsettled her. Seeing how dedicated and serious this man is could go a long way, too. Time to try a different approach...

She dons a sad expression, allowing her eyes to drift half closes and slumping her shoulders a bit. She takes another drink of her wine--this one appearing noticeably larger than the mouthfuls she'd taken before, though not enough to cloud her mind in any significant way. She looks to the man with sympathy in her expression, but tinged with fear. "You make a good point there..." she says, softly and distantly. "But death as a traitor to the temple isn't a quick or easy one. Tortured for hours... days even. Then sacrificed to the dark goddess worshiped there... It's not just death, it's damnation. Eternal torment at her hands... I don't think I can face that. Why would I risk that for your group? I would sooner flee this place."

Bluff/Sense Motive: (1d20+17=29, 1d20+15=25) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1884635/)

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon looked closely at Cassandra. "Would you feel better if you dressed?"

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

If there is another test, Vienne has no idea what it might be. "Then just one more question, mistress. When shall I next receive instruction from you?"

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-
(Withholding any descriptions/DMing until you two finish your roleplay)

-Fernalia-

"That possible outcome is grave, I must admit. But if I am to die, I would die doing what is right and honorable rather than cowering. What is more- death is but a new beginning. That black goddess has no hold on me, and I have faith that when I die, no matter how my end comes, my spirit will pass on to a more wondrous place than this. It will be my reward for a job well done."

The man slowly stretches a hand out across the table to her, looking her in the eye.
"You don't have to be imprisoned by fear and doubt. The pain, agony, and imperfectness of this existence is only temporary, and a greater world lies beyond for those who are willing to reach out for it. The enemy may take your freedom and life away, but they can never take away your spirit. Will you allow them to take it, and give it to them? Or will you find the bravery to stand up for what is just and right?"

Whether Fernalia agrees with his words or not, she has to admit that he is a very compelling speaker- however, with her intuition and a bit of knowledge she has gleamed about that distant religion that is so opposed to theirs, she has a very strong suspicion that he is a follower of that other deity. It comes out very clearly in his wording and ideologies.

-Morana-

There is a loud knock on Morana's door about halfway through her exercises.
"Priestess Morana, Third Priest Nestor has an important message for you."
The person outside is a servant of Babde, very low on in the ranks. Morana might find it strange that a servant of Babde is delivering messages, though she vaguely recalls that Third Priest Nestor disdained the other branches of Moraei's temple. It only made sense for him to use a worshiper from his own faction, with that attitude.
"He desires your presence at sun's zenith."
A little unsure of himself, the servant remains where he is, perhaps wondering if she wanted to return a message, or ask him a question. Or maybe he feels like he has forgotten something...
"Oh, right, um, he wants you to meet him at the Audience Chamber."

-Vienne-

Some unrecognizable expression passes across Yvelle's face. Vienne only gains the slightest hint at what it is, but it is something like regret or disappointment. However, typically Yvelle expresses her displeasure somewhat more obviously and redraws attention to her puzzles and mysteries if Vienne fails to understand or notice them, so if it was indeed a test that Vienne did not comprehend, Yvelle is acting rather oddly about it. Maybe it was something else, but either way, Yvelle is concealing her thoughts from Vienne.

"Tomorrow. There are things you still need to learn and know, but I must prepare for it. Meet me at dusk, in my chapel."

Yvelle's chapel, Vienne knew, was a very private place. They'd met there before, but only when Yvelle's teachings were the utmost secrets. While Yvelle normally warded the catacombs with protective spells and like when she met people there, sometimes she felt it paid off to keep information completely guarded- her chapel was thickly lined with charms and enchantments that would turn away even the most potent spying methods.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra smiles, "The only thing that could make me feel worse is if you weren't with me..." She smiles, and trails off, not finishing what might have been one of her usual flirtatious advances.

[Proven_Paradox]

The more this man says, the more Fern believes him to be a follower of the rival deity. This sounds like the foolish (eloquent perhaps, but foolish) drivel they would spout. Still, beliefs and suspicions are interesting, but not enough to base major actions on. If she could get this man to say such out, though...

Fernalia looks down to the hand offered to her, her face showing indecisiveness, hesitance. She meets his gaze for a moment, but flinches away at the intensity of it (in the process, looking around the room, trying to spot people listening). She keeps her eyes away from his as she says, "Your words are beautiful and appealing, but... Who are you to promise such a thing? I don't even know your name! Why should I believe your words about a better world beyond this life?"

Bluff/Sense Motive: (1d20+17=23, 1d20+15=18) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1894918/)

Does she notice anyone else in the area who appears to be interested in their conversation? Or do I need to roll something for that?

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne curtseys to the Oracle. "I will be there, mistress." She turns away and starts out of the catacombs before stopping and turning around, adding one more comment. "You have probably divined this already, mistress, but I'm yours completely. You have my loyalty." She turns around again and leaves in a swirl of fabric, half-embarrassed after the fact. She returns to her area of the temple, lounging about with a tray of fruit nearby, occasionally sampling one of the pieces, waiting for something to happen.

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana waits a few more moments, letting the servant stew in his uncertainty, and then asks, "Is there something else?" A clear dismissal, unless there was something else.

And if there isn't, she'll be sure to present herself shortly before noon.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon nods. "Very well then. We mustn't keep Third PriestNestor waiting, of course."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young oracle nods and smiles, following Agamemnon to the appointment with Nestor. "I'm sorry if I've been difficult to live with sometimes, Memni. There are things I want - sometimes so strongly it's like a need. When I don't get what I feel I need I can be a real bi..., well, I can be unpleasant. I want you to know that I... respect you, and part of that is respecting the choices you've made - especially since they were meant to serve me."

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

Agamemnon looks uncomfortable. "I know. I'd rather not talk about it right now though. Thank you very much for understanding. It's just..." He trailed off, continuing to walk.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra nods, "As you wish." She falls silent, walking beside Agamemnon, seeming lost in thought.

I've got to stop wanting what I can't have... it seems so unfair, but I can't understand everything the way the goddess does. I'm sure many envy what I have - and would probably be aghast that I with all I have I only want something I can't have.

She glances at Agamemnon.

He's such a good man, and he's given up so much to be with me - to protect me. It's not fair to tease him the way I do... I need to find another lover soon before I drive him crazy, or go crazy myself!

[AmberVael]

-Agamemnon and Cassandra-

The two make it to the audience chamber. It's a curiously shaped place- rather like one of the Greek amphitheaters. It is a semi-circular structure, with raised seating placed around the rounded edge, all of it facing down towards an area that contains an altar and a large speaking area.

Waiting there for them is Third Priest Nestor. He is an older man, but still strong, a grizzled veteran of the priesthood of Babde. He looks over Agamemnon appraisingly, measuring his worth as a fighter before turning an eye to Cassandra. The two may get the feeling he's more admiring Cassandra for her curves than anything else- even if he has heard of her magical skill.

"Stop."

Nestor commands suddenly, his voice short and edged with cutting authority.

-Fernalia-

The man shakes his head, giving a small smile at Fernalia.
"Sometimes, things require people to make a leap of faith. There are those who would kill for my name, for who I serve- I want to trust you, but I have to be careful.
"Please, make the right choice. You can be a part of something greater, something wonderful, but you have to trust me. You have to have faith that there is something out there, greater than what threatens you, something that can protect you."
He moves his hand slightly to emphasize that he is still holding it out to her.
"Trust me..."

-Morana-

The servant shakes his head, and then leaves quickly, leaving Morana to prepare. Presumably, it doesn't take her long, and she joins Agamemnon and Cassandra at the Audience Chamber, where Nestor will give her an approving nod and gesture for her to stand by the other two.

-Vienne-

Vienne almost swears she sees a true smile on Yvelle's face before the voice turns away and moves to other tasks...

Rather belatedly, a similar messenger arrives for her that arrived for others. He seems rather flustered and red in the face... possibly due to where he had been sent.

"I- ah- have a message for you, Priestess Vienne."

He offers the scroll case up to her, and upon reading it she'll notice the directive to meet in the audience chamber at noon. Incidentally, it is noon. Like, right now.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

As the Third Priest examines Agamemnon, the giant simply returns a bored expression. At the Third Priests order, he purposefully takes one more step forward, putting him slightly ahead of Cassandra.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne briefly considers reprimanding the servant for his tardiness but decides she hasn't the time. "You've done your duty. Be off," she says, rising and departing the courtesans' chambers. She moves with rather more hurry than her usual gait, but still manages to appear to be moving in a graceful and unhurried manner. When she arrives, she makes no apology for her tardiness, nor does she offer explanation unless one is specifically requested. If she is surprised by the presence of the others, she doesn't show it.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern curses inwardly. Perhaps this man isn't quite the fool she'd taken him for at the beginning. At this point, she'll settle for a name. Perhaps the best solution at this point is to simply ask...

"Faith, hm?" Fernalia looks down to the offered hand and seems to be considering it deeply. "Maybe you're right... But first, show some faith yourself." She looks to his eyes and says, "At least tell me your name."

Diplomacy/Bluff/Sense Motive: (1d20+18=29, 1d20+17=22, 1d20+15=26) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1901841/)

With the sense motive comes a specific question this time; if he gives a name, is it his actual name? Or an alias?

Also, reinterating my question from the last post; what are the other patrons around the area doing? Anyone looking at her?

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra stops and bows her head respectfully, then looks up and looks Nestor over carefully.

[AmberVael]

((As I noted in the OOC thread four days ago, Paradox, you'll need to make a spot check to gain learn of anyone who might be watching you two.))

[Proven_Paradox]

((Ah, apologies. For some reason that never showed up as a new post, so I missed it.
Spot: (1d20-2=4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1902569/)
...I need to work on that.))

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana nods in return, and moves to stand where indicated, planting her feet slightly apart as she settles in to wait. Even if she hadn't had a reason to suspect they were delaying for others, the fact that he had not yet spoken would have indicated he was waiting on something.

[AmberVael]

-Fernalia-

He seems to hesitate, then gives a sigh and speaks lowly, barely loud enough for her to hear.
"Andrus Kale."
She can't tell if he's lying or not, but there is something vaguely familiar about that name that is nagging at the back of her mind...

-Everyone Else-

Nestor narrows his eyes at Agamemnon, but luckily for the warrior he is distracted from him by the sudden- but late- arrival of Vienne. Shaking his head, he turns away from them, stalking towards the seats where an audience might sit. His stance, pace, and general demeanor tells much about him to anyone who might look closely: he's strict, demanding, disciplined, and regimented; a military man who has seen much and who has wisdom and skill that should be acknowledged- a fact that he is very much aware of.

"You come highly recommended to me, but so far I have no reason to respect you. Your talents are meaningless, your deeds are nothing, and whoever supports you might as well not exist. All that matters to me is that you obey- that you follow orders precisely, exactly, and without fail. If you cannot do that, you will have no chance to ever gain my respect."

Nestor turns back towards them, standing tall with his arms crossed behind his back, watching them each carefully.
"Typically I do not draw from outside the ranks of Babde's followers- you are to be an exception. Yet I will expect no difference in how you treat me, in your capabilities, and in your actions."

There is a faint pause.

"If there any objections, let them be voiced now."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra meets Nestor's eyes, "No problem, sir." She bows her head respectfully.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"No objections as yet." She seems out of place in this setting; her slow, relaxed motions and ways of speaking stand in stark contrast to the military mannerisms of Nestor.

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana gives a single sharp nod of acknowledgement, and does not otherwise move.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

The giant gives a deep bow.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fernalia isn't quite satisfied with that... Unsure he's speaking honestly and with that annoying feeling that she's heard it before in the back of her head, she's inclined to think that an alias. Still, it's something to call him by, and if he doesn't give his true name after that, nothing short of a spell will do so. The situation is too delicate to risk a charm spell at the moment, and she may well be able to learn more without it anyway. She makes a mental note to try researching the name on her own sometime. Now to withdraw...

Fern smiles at this, though it is a sad sort of smile. "Very well, lord Kale. Call me Rose." She glances about the room once more before gingerly, hesitantly touching his hand and gently pushing it away. She whispers, "To aid your cause--especially so publicly--would get me killed. Do not take this wrongly; I simply cannot risk accepting your offer so explicitly. The temple has eyes and ears everywhere, and 'tis little good to either of us if I am killed. We should meet somewhere more private to discuss this further." She withdraws her hand to take another small sip of her wine, setting the ball of light bobbing within it spinning. "Watch what you say here and who you say it to. You never know when you'll find yourself speaking to one who would lead you to your doom here. Say the wrong thing to the wrong person--especially the things you've said to me--and you will be killed."

Fern looks out the window to guage the time of day. Regardless of what she sees, she will return her gaze to Kale and say, "We should end this conversation soon. There is a small chapel I find myself drifting to on sleepless nights." She gives him brief instructions on where to find the place she had received the summons to her first Culling. "Should I be free to wander, I will be there at midnight. If I am not there, return the next night, and the night after that, and on until we can meet."

She moves to stand from the table. "To throw suspicion off... I suggest you act as a hopeful lover gently denied after I leave. You would not be the first." With that, she gives him a gentle, apologetic smile and rises from the table, leaving the wine with him. The ball of light that had decorated her wineglass winks out soon after.

Bluff/Diplomacy/Sense Motive/Spot: (1d20+17=35, 1d20+18=24, 1d20+15=34, 1d20-2=13) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1918947/) Aaah, that's nice.

Unless something major happens between here and there, Fern will leave the tavern and probably head back to her room for a time.

[AmberVael]

-Fernalia-

Kale opens his mouth to protest, but finally just frowns and nods, letting her go. Fernalia will notice that he watches her until she goes out of sight, but her way out and back to the temple will be unopposed.

When Fernalia makes it to her room, she finds a young man wearing attire appropriate to a novice in Babde's service, waiting rather impatiently, fidgeting slightly. He hands a letter to her without a word, and then turns instantly on his heel and leaves.

Within the letter is a summons to where the others are- but she's already a fair bit late...

-Everyone Else-

"Good. Now, to address your task."
Nestor stands still, almost rigid now.
"You may have heard of the culling that is a mirror of our own- a culling without the temple, rather than within. This is at the direction of our new high priest. In short, our goddess is not satisfied with the strength of her populace. She is displeased by the weakness and treachery that runs through it.
"You are being assigned to further this task- to locate and weed out those who have failed to live up to our goddess's standards. To begin with, you will be directed in where to go, but in the end you will direct yourselves, growing to become instruments of her judgment."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

The young woman raises a brow, intrigued by the implications of this command. She nods, "It shall be as you instruct sir."

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne stays silent, waiting for more information. She had learned that appearing patiently attentive would often cause another to say more than he might have originally intended. She did her best to watch the man and learn what she could about him.

(Sense Motive: 1D20+10 = [16]+10 = 26
(http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=6799) Trying to see if she can pick up on anything Nestor might be hiding or implying.)

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon bows. "Truly a worthy task. It shall be as you say."

[Proven_Paradox]

...What in the world? Fern had not intended to stay out that long. Somewhere she had lost track of time. That was sloppy. Still, far as this priest knows, she had no reason to expect such a missive today. She can only hope the man's reasonable enough to see that. She will set out to the meeting place quickly.

[The_Snark]

Morana

Morana nods a third time, but this time speaks up. "What of our own Cullings? Is this to be considered part of them, or will we need to attend to both at once?"

[AmberVael]

((Everyone should be in the same place now...))

Vienne finds that she has no reason to distrust anything the man has said- he's obviously quite forthright and blunt, and finds secrets distasteful. He'd only conceal something by stabbing it into enemy's vital organs... if he's being deceitful, someone is probably deceiving him as well.

The veteran looks to Morana, raising an eyebrow.
"I do not deal with your Cullings- that is in someone else's hands, and will no doubt be separate."

Nestor frowns as Fernalia comes in, quite late- very late indeed. The old warrior crosses his arms and stares her down with a gaze that could stop a chariot, obviously waiting for an explanation.

[Proven_Paradox]

Fernalia enters the room calmly, meeting the man's gaze without flinching. Her tone is calm as she says, "My apologies for my tardiness--I came here straight away as I received your summons. The messenger had trouble finding me it seems."

Diplomacy: (1d20+18=26) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1936219/)
Sense motive (assess opponent): (1d20+15=18) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1936221/)

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

Vienne has questions, but since Nestor has yet to ask for them, she remains silent. She knows his type, and asking questions out of order will only prove to irritate him.

[Whiplord]

Agamemnon

The giant stays silent as well. Know thy enemy before you strike.

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra's eyes evaluate Nestor carefully. Also waiting for him to speak.

I usually pick my lovers for purely physical traits, but he does have some charisma... and experience by the look of him. Plus he worships the physical traits of the goddess... so his physical prowess would by that reasoning be... exceptional.

[AmberVael]

Nestor shakes his head with disapproval, though apparently not at Fernalia.
"Acolytes are worthless these days- they can't even run simple errands."
Fernalia senses that Nestor knows which end of a weapon is which, and what's more, while he may not be at his youngest and most virile, he's no old doddering fool, either. If they fought, he'd put up a tough fight, and would have a good chance at winning.
"We have information that there is a resistance group in the Gray District, meeting covertly in a bar called the Jester's Stables. We're not certain where exactly they meet within the building, but we believe they maintain a presence there daily, so finding them should be relatively simple.
"Your goal is complete elimination of this group. Find them and leave none of them alive."
Nestor looks over the five.
"Typically I would gather more information before sending off a group selected for this task, but as your purpose is to learn to work more independently, and as you have a few who are talented in the area of observation and information gathering, I have left the rest in your hands.
"I will expect reports of your actions and progress every three days. I do not, however, expect this mission to take much longer than one or two weeks."
Nestor draws out a small box, which he places on the altar.
"These are for you. Symbols of your service, and required uniform for agents of Moraei. Remove it while doing your tasks, and you will lose your status."
He opens the box, revealing five charms, which could be easily concealed or attached to any number of articles of clothing. They are small, twisted bands of dark gray and copper wire that faintly suggest at a holy symbol.

[DarkLadyOfTheSith]

Vienne

"With respect," Vienne says, her every tone indicating that she does mean what she says respectfully, "displaying a symbol of authority while working on a covert assignment does tend to defeat the purpose. Can the symbol be worn but not displayed? Hidden under a layer of clothing, for instance."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra looks at the symbols, "A good question... not to mention, lying around in a box like this. I should probably check them just in case no harmful curses have been added by overzealous testers..." She pauses, looking at Nestor, "They are just mundane symbols, aren't they, nothing enchanted?"

[Proven_Paradox]

Fern raises an eyebrow at Cassandra's comments. Other than that, she makes no movements and remains silent; she awaits an answer to Vienne's question; infiltrating a resistance group whilst displaying a symbol of that which they resist would be challenging indeed.

[AmberVael]

"As long as they are worn, it is acceptable. You need not wear it openly- but you must wear it."
Nestor looks to Cassandra impassively.
"I believe they may be enchanted in some way, which is why it is insisted that they be worn at all time- but what enchantments there are was not specified to me...
"I would suggest not prying into the matter."
Nestor waves a hand at them.
"Now be off. We all have our duties to attend to."

[Wiz]

Cassandra

Cassandra nods to Nestor, "Yes my lord. Your commands are clear. Your suggestion noted."