The Primeval Dark (IC)

[Mornings]

[Willowbrook Sanitarium]
He wasn't breathing. His mouth moved, and words came out, but he wasn't breathing. "Unless... A number of things." This close, there was something distinctly offsetting about the man. She couldn't feel any warmth from him, but not in the manner which a corpse laid lifeless upon her autopsy table. No, farm from that. He might not have needed to draw breath, and he might not have produced any bodily heat, but he was alive. At least by some definition of the word. Rather, she could feel her own warmth being drained beneath his touch, as if it were being bled out into some vast void for which it contributed nothing. Looking into Iman's face Regina realized; he couldn't see. Be it self imposed blindness, or something else. The goggles covering the thin slit between his turban and wrapped mask of scarves held no lenses, only finely polished oblong steel disks, firmly held in place. Together, they hobbled out of the cell. She didn't know just what exactly the Vudrani man was - but he certainly wasn't human. Not anymore. He'd become something else.... Something, between. [Regina | Knowledge (Planes) - Failed]

Matik stormed out like a fiery tyrant from the cell, dragging a snared body in tow as he left the cell. "Iman, this one might be beyond help." The Thin-Man seemed to chuckle under his breath, "Wonderful, then they'll not be any complaints from you if we need to use the body to buy us some extra time in a pinch." The knight looked down at the girl's limp form, then back at the foreign man with a shrug, "That's... Not very respectful to the dead, but I suppose if it cannot be helped." Matik gestured at Regina with a nod, "Dear niece, do you know this girl's name? I would prefer if her remains were to be delivered back to her home, rather than left to rot, or used as some manner of macabre bait; as Iman suggests." The Vudrani rolled his head in disbelief at the flaming-man's seemingly never-ending string of poor choices. "Stop wasting time and grab the other one too."

Pausing, Matik turned about to look at the open hole into the cell further down the hall before prancing off to gather the last man with the body dragging behind. The great flaming helm poked around the corner to look into the cell; the only part of the man that Miryks could see. The massive flaming head suddenly appearing to cast dim light into the cell was enough to snap the aasimar to attention. "Iman, this one is alive and about!" The Thin-Man shook his head, as if disappointed, "Oh, leave him then. He can fare for himself." Staggering forward while dragging the girl with him, they made their first steps down the hall. "Are we not helping them all anymore? You really must make up your mind!" Baird scoffed, "Helping? I told you before, sir. I've no mind for charitable causes, I help myself. The girl's corpse will be enough."

Miryks had heard of the Warren Trading company, shrewd, cruel men with a keen mind for industry. After making peace with the major crimelords in Varisia, they established very strong ties with the Rello crime-family, strengthening their hold from Magnimar to the Mushfens. They had begun to employ foreign soldiers and mercenaries which their ships brought into the city. In addition to commissioning numerous Harrier companies from abroad, they had assembled a sizable force of irregular fighters. It wasn't any secret that Warren Trading was feeding fighting men to the Rellos', creating a stronghold in Sandpoint. Their motives remained elusive, but their wealth was plainly evident, as they made absorbent public displays of it. Just recently Caleb Warren held a ceremony in the city for the acquisition of Captain Cayden Paradise's service, a chief-surveyor and expert in analyzing the changes since the Night. In acquiring the captain, they also acquired the only existing Surveyors Frigate; the airship, Bloody Anne. Paradise wasn't a man known for standing upon the moral high-ground. Despite the serious blow to the Surveyor's Corps. him coming under Warren's employ allowed him to do what he pleased, how he pleased. Some rumors had even begun to circulate that he had turned-the-black, and begun gallivanting in his spare time as some manner of sky pirate. The only thing which was known for certain was that Captain Paradise kept very dangerous company. The officers aboard the Bloody Anne were all vicious foreign criminals. A silver-haired Numerian assassin as quartermaster. A one-armed Vudrani mercenary as deck cadet, and goddam Demona Caldern as first-mate. That last fact had caused quite the stir for some time, as the captain made it no secret that the notorious serial-killer now worked for him. She was still wanted by the law of course, and the secret of her escape remained unknown, but there were no men to bring the woman to justice now that she had made such powerful friends. Miryks couldn't be completely sure, but if he was a betting-man, then he'd wager that this Baird Iman was one of Paradise's officers [Miryks | Knowledge (Local) - Partial]

The man had made it no secret where he stood on the moral scale. Iman had no interest in accepting risks to himself, preferring to offload any uncertainties upon others. Even going as far as to drag hapless bodies along for the ride if it served to detract from threats which might otherwise be directed at himself. He wasn't a good man, but that didn't make him an enemy either. He had the decency to set them free, but he wasn't deceptive of his priorities. His own wellbeing came before anything else, and he didn't much care what needed to be done to see his health was assured. The man possessed insights into this place which he did not, and the resources or orchestrate his own escape from this hell. The man had not been deceptive with his actions, simply because he had felt no need to. That didn't mean that Iman wouldn't twist truths or tell lies when it suited him, he'd do anything to put himself in the most advantageous of positions. However, he didn't employ that strategy here. In fact, the man simply had no intention of even speaking to him, and simply leaving him in his cell to find his own way. He could have tried to lie and weave some false truths to win a stranger over to his side, giving him another sword between him and the bad things that wanted to kill them all. Yet, he didn't. Miryks' was no stranger to self-serving men like this Iman. It was not that the Vudrani was morally above such underhanded tactics, but because he believed it to be a clear detriment to his objectives; that being, his safety. He was a liability. The only thing he was looking for was a scapegoat for whatever he thought would be baring down upon them. Iman was confident he could escape with the assets he currently had available. It wasn't difficult to tell where such a man's priorities were. At the least he could trust in that. [Miryks | Sense Motive - Partial]

There were so many cracks. Not just the ones inside her cell, the whole of the long hall was filled with them. Deep fissures running through the walls as if the whole of the place had already collapsed upon itself, then been carefully stacked back together again, like bricks without mortar. Her head ached. The dizzy spell had come on all at once. She felt like there was something she forgot... The blade-scars running along the length of the hall were easy to miss, as was the blood. She'd forgotten. The holding area was a ruin, more-so than it had been when they had been kept here. It was as if invisible threads bound the entire structure together, for there was no actual structural stability to speak of, it shouldn't have even been possible for the ceiling to remain suspended while under the pressure of its own weight. It had collapsed. Maybe... She felt as if it had. Something in the back of her mind prodded her, small glimpses, flashes of faded color. ""The only thing beneath the sanitarium, physically, is a large unused foundational chamber they converted into a waste disposal. Which means, either the Purifiers' had a secret area constructed recently, maybe using a newly uncovered tainted area that pop'ed up.... Or at some point, the sanitarium Diverged, and this is not actually Willowbrook... but something, or somewhere else entirely..."" Maybe he was right, or maybe the truth was something in the middle. [Regina | Knowledge & Perception - Partial]

A chill ran down her back. She might not have recalled what she felt like she was forgetting, but her body had not forgotten. There was something unsettlingly wrong here. Regina didn't know what the strange chime-bird was, but she knew it sounded when something was... changing. Maybe it was like Iman had said, and it was reality diverging from itself, but it was impossible to say for certain. She remembered hearing about some Surveyors who carried strange bells which warned them of changes in a sector, but this was far different than a bell carried in a man's pocket. It was as if the very world were giving them warning, alarming them of something... else. Her vision began to blur. It was growing dark. She could feel herself beginning to sway, then....

Red.

Ͽ ◯ Ͼ

Frozen. The leaves which had blown in from the window paused, and remained in their places in the air upon crossing the threshold, as if patiently waiting for permission to enter. They were freshly fallen, and not yet showing the dryness of a withering season; yet they were black of color. The small blades of greenery seemed a stark contrast to the bright expressionless background of their halted scene. There was nothing beyond. Only the bright white of a blank and undefined universe awaited beyond outside the window. Lifeless, seasonless. Without trees nor wind for which the leaves to be carried. The room about her was a twisted reflection, an inverted world of negative-colors held in stasis. Nothing could move, all was still.

The woman closed the window. "I told you to close this." The tall stranger was lithe, but elegant, with a certain disturbing and unnatural grace that seemed to bend and distort the air around her, leaving everything slightly out of focus. She turned about to face someone else. Her eyes were dead and unblinking. A pale mirrored turquoise. The dark rings around her eyes were complimented by the weary bags which hung beneath her eye-lids and gave her a maddened and intense gaze that could split glass. "False. No such command has been received." The curt and dry response to the mad-woman came from somewhere else. Regina's body lay upon an old bed, colorless, held in stasis.. but right now, that wasn't who she was. Formless, she lingered like some manner of vengeful spirit. With a great deal of effort she could mentally command herself to turn, as if slowly panning a camera to the right to see the new speaker. It wasn't human.

She was donned in a cloak of plated dark metal, huge sheets easily three-inches thick. Far thicker than any armor a man could hope to don. The only flesh which could be seen on the creature was a small portion of her head and breast. Her long silver hair tumbled down her sides and back, nearly reaching her knees, but the rest of her... It was some manner of glassy mechanical doll. Her arms were marvels to behold, with intricate pieces of riveted and cycling mechanisms made of some slightly transparent metallic substance. The articulation of those limbs was smooth, and perhaps even more efficient than organic limbs could ever be. Nothing in this plane could create artificial life so, perfect. Despite her cloven hoof-like feet, she was a near-perfect reflection of the human form, though the change made her appear more like a tall and properly proportioned satyr. The wonders of such creations were not beyond her, and she could only conceive one possible maker of such sophisticated and ingenious work; the Axiomites. She was an Inevitable, she had to be.

"Then commit this to memory, and get on with it." The tall woman straightened the simple dark gray coat she wore over her white gown. "Acknowledged. Reporting, objective failure. Awaiting command." The woman, who was evidently the construct's master didn't look surprised. "What happened this time?" The master begun to pace in a circle while listening. "Reporting. Unexpected structural failure. Sector 3, identified as object 'F3A' suffered expected collapse. Sector 4, identified as object 'F3B' inherited undistributed properties from F3A, leading to physical collapse of the complex." The master ran a hand down her face in disbelief. "Uhg, you can't be serious. You're saying the whole damn building came down on top of them? So we addressed the issue on F3A, but caused a completely different problem by trying to isolate that iteration from F4? Was this within our projected margin of error?" She signed, both talking out loud, and towards the mechanical woman. "Negative. Result falls outside of projections. Hypothesis. A foreign influence was introduced. Would you like to revert these changes?" Pausing for a moment, the master finally waved her hand dismissively. "Fine. Reverse it. F4 is a lost cause, so is F3A. Give priority to F3B and relocate any useful F3A hosts to F2. Was J'June already relocated?" The doll paused as if trying to process the commands given to her, "Status. Primary objective has been relocated to object 'F1B'. Please specify condition of 'useful hosts'."

The tall woman ceased her pacing and found a seat on the far end of the room. "Really? I don't know, how about anyone that doesn't get killed within the first forty-seconds of things going wrong, gets to live. Does that sound good to you?" "Calculating.... Correction. 'Useful hosts' defined. Surviving hosts within sixty-percent threshold will be applicable for review. Forty-eight seconds allocated for determination. Confirm." The master crossed her legs and waved dismissively again, "Sure, whatever." She pointed offhandedly at Regina's body, "-And put that one back in. Also, error-check any residual foreign objects. I don't need a repeat of last time. Some of these hosts might actually be useful." The doll blinked and looked back at the body laying still on the bed, "Correction. Hosts have already been tasked by Master, ID 'Rubedo'." A dry rasping laughter that sounded like quarters spinning around the edge of a rusted sink coughed its way out of the nameless master's throat. "I don't care what silly game my sister is playing with the hosts. The sooner we fix J'June, the sooner we fix this disgusting place and get to go home. Both of us. If the hosts can't meaningfully contribute to saving their own universe, than what good are they. Initiate Cycle." [Regina | Knowledge (Nature) - Failure]

"Acknowledged. Cycle initiated."


Consciousness tumbled back into her body, once again being dragged along by Iman.
She was back, but she didn't understand.

Spoiler: Status

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֍ Mirykys +25 (75xp)
HP 37/37
AC 17
⭍ [Staggered] 0/1 Rounds
⯎ Survival Influence Gained
⯎ Exploration Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Wisdom Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Caution Influence Gained
⯎ Warren Trading Co. +50 (125xp)
⯎ Rello crime-family +100 (225xp)
⯎ Foreign Soldiers +25 (250xp)
⯎ Sandpoint Stronghold +50 (300xp)
⯎ Caleb D. Warren +100 (400xp)
⯎ Capt. Cayden Paradise +150 (550xp)
⯎ S.F. Bloody Anne +50 (600xp)
⯎ Sky Pirate +50 (650xp)
⯎ Numerian assassin +50 (700xp)
⯎ Vudrani mercenary +50 (750xp)
⯎ Demona Caldern +50 (800xp)

֍ Machari
50/50
AC 18
⭍ [Helpless]

֍ Regina +150 (950xp)
HP 53/53
AC 19
⭍ [Staggered] 1/2 Rounds
⯎ Nobility Influence Gained
⯎ Deception Influence Gained
⯎ Trickery Influence Gained
⯎ Discovery Influence Gained
⯎ Magic Influence Gained
⯎ Secrets Influence Gained
⯎ Knowledge Influence Gained
⯎ Truth Influence Gained
⯎ Tapestry Influence Gained
⯎ Time Influence Gained
⯎ Breathless Creature +25 (975xp)
⯎ Drained Warmth +25 (1,000xp)
⯎ Something Between +50 (1,050xp)
⯎ The destroyed hall +50 (1,100xp)
⯎ Divergence +300 (1,400xp)
⯎ Another Willowbrook +100 (1,500xp)
⯎ Axiomites +25 (1,525xp)
⯎ Inevitable +25 (1,550xp)
⯎ The Nameless Master +300 (1,850xp)
⯎ Rubedo +400 (2,250xp)
⯎ J'June +300 (2,550xp)
⯎ Broken Universe +300 (2,850xp)
⯎ The Cycle +300 (3,150xp)

Spoiler: Influences

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Influences represent current knowledge, pursuits, training, experiences and aspirations which are actively effecting or being utilized by a character. These represent various concepts and begin to outline a character's values and path as they grow. Influences which are not used regularly are lost, but can be gained again once a character begins pursuing an avenue related towards that field or concept. Influences determine a character's growth in many ways, including experience points they earn and which Potentials they can acquire at any given time.

Unlike with limited class levels, Influences are not acquired spontaneously, and are acquired throughout play; creating an active system which enables a character to re-train, gain new powers, or even improve upon old ones actively with their in-character actions. Training with a sword or exercising the use of an existing Potential allows a character to learn new techniques, empower his current abilities, or even grow his tolerance to pain, sustain damage, run faster, sleep less, and more. Influences play a vital role in developing more sophisticated interpersonal skills and ability to deal and establish diplomatic relations with all manner of strange and otherworldly creatures which you may encounter; in addition to learning more about the unnatural forces which no worldly knowledge could shed light upon. All unique skills are only able to be acquired via potentials, which are trained and worked towards acquiring via your pursuits, experiences, and by extension - your Influences.

Spoiler: Point: 323 - Willowbrook Sanitarium, F3B (About Tainted Lands)

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Tainted Lands are incredibly complex and foreign realms which are often guised as places once familiar. Each tainted region is individually unique and carries with it its own risks, rules, threats and worldly hazards. Many things cannot function, work differently, or can lead to reality crushing results that make survival for most creatures delving into their reaches an impossibility. Site Investigators often travel with groups of Harriers or Gales for long extended periods conducting a through survey of each corrupted-site, known as a 'Point'. These reports are used by various venturing companies to conduct expeditions, known as 'Dives', into the tainted lands. Points are always geographically divided into many areas known as 'Sectors' by Site Investigators. Sectors within a Point mark areas where the rules of the other areas which have been surveyed dramatically differ, be that the laws of nature or magic, or even stranger changes they cannot understand.

Common rules which Gales are familiar include such things as; violent reactions to non-grounded magics, reactions to supernatural energies and abilities, reactions to specific materials, reactions to unstabilized magical creatures and creatures capable of withholding or generating energy, and items or persons keyed to a particular influence.

Fortunately there were not very many public users of magics due to the general fear and suspicion associated with the practice, and thus even less individuals with such talents that traveled into the tainted regions. Magic was an inherently suicidal thing to employ in such places without a remarkable understanding of the Point and all features of the rules which governed the Sector currently being occupied. Everything in a spell from the time it took to produce, to the school, effect, number of targets and even the manner in which the spell functioned were all individuals factors which could set off a dimensional-explosion and throw an entire team of unwitting mercenaries through a hole into Abadon; or worse. There was always worse, they just hadn't learned what that was yet, that was the first lesson tainted lands had to teach the fools which dared brave its depths. Wizards and magicians were generally less welcome by companies that ventured to such places, than they were by the general public. Unless the magician in question specialized in using his or her magic in such places, and possessed a record to back it, not even a fool would bring one along. There existed unique items called 'Grounds' which restrained and processed a magician's magic making it generally safe to use, but they were immensely expensive and built for each individual mage. Yet, more vexing was the matter than a single magician would often need multiple Grounds as no single device was assured to provide every protection for every circumstance. Nor were they permanent fixtures, like filters, they eventually spoiled and failed. At least the ones commercially available. The device's creator, the genius inventor Denil Demn could produce Grounds which would self-cleanse and restore themselves with time, but acquiring a commission from the man was a nightmare. If not because of the competition attempting to do the same, than because the craftsman was notoriously difficult to reach.

The degree of influence upon supernatural powers varied wildly, but was based on the level of corruption the tainted region possessed. In some of the worst places there were documented cases of Gales detonating in a bloody mess from simply employing internal forces to accelerate their speed and agility. Much like a monastic practitioner of martial arts, many Harriers preferred to learn to hone inner energies to aid themselves in conflict while Diving, but even this was not completely safe. During 'Deep Dives' companies outfitted their members with various equipment to maintain internal stability, but this was not something exclusive to the most foul of places. If the rules of a Sector were particularly twisted, it was possible to experience those same hazards without venturing into the belly of the beast.

Some materials or creatures didn't react well in tainted regions. The places were often so alien and foreign that not even animals could enter. Sometimes it wasn't just animals, it could be steel, or wood. Maybe iron. No one would know what all, if any may have been effected until a Site Investigator ran their exhaustive tests. Some of the most strange of places caused unnatural phenomena from things associated with a particular thing. Perhaps a cleric's symbol, or a deity's favored weapon, maybe the pages of a book. It was as if the world were possessed by some malicious spirit that remembered only the things related to what had wronged it. None of these places were necessarily good to ever venture, many Gales never bothered. Even putting the twisted spaces of reality aside, the Veilbeasts and other horrors were enough to convince any sane man to keep his distance. Veilplague had become nearly non-existent, but the corruption and curses which could be afflicted were a horrendous burden. If a man were blighted, he could not be allowed into a town or city. It was all one could do to simply pray that a green witch or other healing pariah might be able to mend them, as civil men would have no choice but to quarantine or kill the infected. There simply were no known cures for most maladies, at least not in the hands of the peoples at large. For most, death was assured.


Point: 323, F3B: Sector 1B - Regional Effects
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Spoiler: Reclaiming the Flesh

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Your body has been broken and cursed, stealing from you the ability to move or even impart life into those things tied to your existence.

⭍ [Helpless] You are helpless. Your movement speed for all forms of travel is reduced to 0. Autonomous actions which could be performed by sentient/independent creatures and sources cannot be performed. Familiars and bound creatures are considered to be afflicted with the the death-condition until this status is removed. You may speak in a horse-whisper, requiring a DC10 perception check to be heard.

⯎ [Taking Control] Once per round you may attempt a DC20 will save. Each round you are unsuccessful the DC decreases by 1. Upon success you recover 1d4 x 5 feet of movement to your base land speed. Upon regaining 5ft of speed, the helpless-condition is removed and you become dazed.

⯎ [ Recovery] Once per round you may attempt a DC20 fortitude save. Each round you are unsuccessful the DC decreases by 1. Upon success the DC for this save resets to 20 and the dazed-condition is removed. You become staggered for 1d3 rounds. You may continue to attempt fortitude saves each round normally to end this condition early.

⯎ [Taking Up Arms] You are still donned in your armor, but all of your possessions are scattered about your cell. Objects where were stored inside a bag or other container remain in storage, while other objects are loosely strewn about, requiring attention to gather and rearm yourself.

Spoiler: Breaking Free

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The thick bars enclosing you into your 10-ft cell are still stout despite the time and decay which have weathered them. Locks can be picked, and hard blows struck; find any means of escape you are able and release yourself from your cell.

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Main Quest: The Fires of Willowbrook, Part 1
Long ago the Auspex had spoken of the four years which had come and gone from behind the bars of their cages. It was impossible to know just how long it had been since then, but if there was any lesson to be had in all of it, it was that 'time was meaningless'. Strength had begun to return to them. The future was their own to command if they could just wrest it free from the dead-hands of the hell named 'Willowbrook'. That was what they had to keep telling themselves. They said it over and over again until it became truth, the only truth that mattered. It had to be that way, because if they allowed themselves to slip, they would be faced with the terror of another reality too horrible to defeat. Then the 'nothing' which loomed above them like the executioner's axe, would fall. Then they too would join it; and this time, there would be no return.
Difficulty: Moderate | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 49 Minutes
Primary Objective (1): Flee Sector 1B
Primary Objective (2): Escape Willowbrook Sanitarium

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Side Quest: Restless, The Nightmare Below
Lord Matik recounts his battle with a horrid and powerful creature, a horror known as the Ember Beast. Whatever the secrets of its power, it has transformed the knight into something inhuman and unnatural. Something sleeps far below the asylum, a terror steeped in blood and fire. Perhaps the secrets to the infernal warrior's own cursed disposition lay somewhere buried in the deep, or perhaps there was only death. Only one thing was certain; the creature was too dangerous to be allowed to live. It had to be stopped.
Difficulty: Challenging | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Primary Objective: Defeat the Ember Beast

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