Planeside 3

[Recaiden]

[Brefaisil]

What an awful situation!
Well, that's certainly a way to interpret the same events the queen told of. Doubtless they are each putting their own spin on things. Btu the pontiff's account sounds...less true to life. That's just politics, isn't it?
Tell me more of Absum. What is your relationship with him like? How did you learn of his anger?

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
That's horrible. Sekhmet's come back from her body immolating as an eldritch being spawned out of it (it's a long story) so she knows succubi can recover from total bodily destruction. This must be something more, and that's terrifying. "Uh, keep their remains safe. We'll, uh, figure out how to have a funeral later." She has no idea what a succubus funeral entails. Then again, none of the succubi do either. Succubi dying is so rare, and them being mourned is unheard of. This place just keeps changing under Sekhmet's rule.

[Earl of Purple]

Sylvanas

Well. Eating her mind doesn't sound pleasant at all, does it? And not like the Tribal belief drawn from being blinded by looking at a nuclear explosion, either, as that generally doesn't affect the rest of your mental abilities. At least, not from what she's read, anyway.

"Um, I think I'm good to move. I'd... rather get out of here before I worry about eating." Though given this place apparently runs on hunger, that might not be the safest idea. The Dweller is already hungry, too; she hasn't eaten since she was split up from her group.

Prison Realm

The door swings open and the skull starts to hover. The other bones in the cell float upwards before being hurled at the empty-handed dog-thing, distracting it from Kiun. The one with the lantern tries swinging it again, as the other grabs the door and starts to push it closed.

[Recaiden]

[Prison Realm]

This time, Kiun is beaten with a lantern!
She's knocked down, half spun by the force of the hit-
But she's still able to direct her magic, giving the Hand that hit her a hard telekinetic shove towards the edge of the walkway.

[Ironsmith]

[Brefaisil]

What an awful situation!
Well, that's certainly a way to interpret the same events the queen told of. Doubtless they are each putting their own spin on things. Btu the pontiff's account sounds...less true to life. That's just politics, isn't it?
Tell me more of Absum. What is your relationship with him like? How did you learn of his anger?

[Brefaisil]

The signs have been everywhere. Even to the untrained eye, it should be apparent that the end of days is upon is. But to a clergyman, the omens are more apparent; a storm gathers over Brefaisil, every day, when noon would have occurred. It is written that, when the end is to come, Absum will hide his face from the faithless, and the zealot will be made humble. Is that not what is happening now?

Scorching Depths
That's horrible. Sekhmet's come back from her body immolating as an eldritch being spawned out of it (it's a long story) so she knows succubi can recover from total bodily destruction. This must be something more, and that's terrifying. "Uh, keep their remains safe. We'll, uh, figure out how to have a funeral later." She has no idea what a succubus funeral entails. Then again, none of the succubi do either. Succubi dying is so rare, and them being mourned is unheard of. This place just keeps changing under Sekhmet's rule.

[Scorching Depths]

Understandably, this results in a pretty short guest list; not many of the succubi actually knew these four, including the pair who watched them die (who attend for that reason alone). There are maybe a half-dozen others who would attend voluntarily.

Not counting Braon, of course. Apparently, she wants to be there, despite not having a more than casual acquaintence with any of them; an actual casual acquaintence, not the traditional succubus "we curtained that one time" casual acquaintence.

Sekhmet is, of course, free to make attendance obligatory; she is both queen and the one arranging this affair. But regardless, her subjects are probably going to want to hear what she has to say regarding the newly departed.

[Recaiden]

My good pontiff, it is like that everywhere. Adea is dead, do you think that was at the hands of the queen? Actually, it wouldn't be entirely surprising...
Besides, is Absum not hidden now from the faithful as well? And you seem proud enough, despite your circumstances. Better not convince him too much, lest they actually fulfill some sort of prophecy.

[Ironsmith]

[Brefaisil]

Unlikely. Breonite would have gained nothing by Adea's death; she was more personally powerful when she could draw on her magic, and most competitors were already in the north by the time of Adea's death. If nothing else, I do not believe she is clever enough to have pulled off such a feat.

And as for everything else... yes, even the faithful do not see Absum's face in these days. And while my faith in Absum is strong, there are many other faithful who have been humiliated since Breonite came to power. Or rather, because she came to power. What could be more humbling than being made to serve an old enemy?

[Recaiden]

You know this, and you still spend your time chastising the queen?
Who is so clever as to do this, in your estimation? There are a few more hints about motive, finally.

As for your faithful, humiliation is not humility. However powerful the queen is, it matters not how the people of Maesda look on you, but how you stand before Absum.

[Ironsmith]

Nobody who is still alive today. There are a few who are still in Maesda who may have the means or the will to harm Adea, but not both. Whoever did it has long since passed from this world.

The queen was originally meant to serve a diplomatic purpose. She married King Arnbaith as a way of affirming a peace treaty of sorts with the Lesser Wood clan, so the fiendlings would always find a sympathetic ear in Brefaisil. In those days, I would even say she had a good heart, eager to mend the long-since-broken relationship between our peoples.

But since she took power, it's been one after another series of bad decisions. War with Lady Huelwen. The mass execution of traitors and "traitors". Sealing the lower levels, digging out the tunnels. And a few other things I could ascribe only to malice.

Now see that she has ruled these lands for more than ten years. Many of our finest warriors have fought against the fiendlings in Absum's name for nearly as long. And yet here stands one they can not touch, the most dangerous among them. Would you not be humbled?

[Rebonack]

[Sylvanas]

"Arright, let's get moving then," Magdalene insists as she grabs an armful of snow and flumphs it atop the fire, smothering it in a hurry. Then back out into the biting cold she goes.

The Vault Dweller will find herself climbing out of a hollow tree of truly prodigious size, which should have already been clear enough from the fact that its interior was large enough to serve as a small room. All around is an incomprehensible tangle of branches, trunks, limbs, and leaves in eternal fall colors. Here and there strange, alien looking fruits and pods grow from the limbs and trunks, glowing the same eerie shade of pink as Magdalene's eyes.

The light pulses.

Like the steady thrum of a heartbeat.

A light dusting of snow covers everything, but it isn't deep at the moment. Magdalene, strangely enough, doesn't leave human prints with her bare feet. She leaves large reindeer tracks in her wake. Whether the Dweller notices this or not remains to be seen.

There's no forest floor to be seen, just trees above and trees below. Should the Dweller turn her gaze upward she might be able to catch a glimpse of something not wholly unlike the night sky peeking between the boughs.

"We're not that deep," Magdalene says as she begins walking along a three foot wide branch with a dizzying drop to either side. "So we got pretty (flowering) lucky. It'll only take maybe half a day to climb to the riftgates. If you start getting too cold lemme know and we'll find another hollow to huddle in for a bit."

The Dweller also still has Magdalene's furs, which likely helps a little. Magdalene is hardly wearing anything at all and the cold seems to bother her little.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
Sekhmet isn't sure herself what to say at the funeral. She appears in a long, black dress and simple jewelry, not willing to appear too ostentatious on such a somber occasion. Other than her, succubus funeral wear appears to be only slightly more covering than their normal clothes.
The funeral takes place on the palace grounds within sight of the palace, and is ringed by guard demons and hellhounds. The paranoia surrounding the uncaught murderers is rampant, but it's tough to bury the victims indoors.
"My, uh, fellow succubi," Sekhmet begins. Somebody in the audience gives a rude shout to the effect of "you're not one of us" and is shushed by someone else. "Today, we mourn the loss of four of our, uh, kin. What happened to them is, uh, shocking and saddening. I did not have the opportunity to, uh, get to know Lydia, Nadia, Bridget, and Echo, but their loss saddens me. I unknowingly sent them to their deaths without even knowing their names. As Queen, I feel it is my own failing that I do not know the people who might die on my behalf. I don't just want to be queen. I want to be your queen. I want you to be able to voice your concerns to me. I want to know your names. I, uh, don't want you to be my pawns. I want you to be my people."

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

Braon gives the succubus who shushed her a little glare, before looking at the crowd around her to try to gauge the reactions of the succubi so far.

It's a mixed bag, really. A small minority seem to be comforted by Sekhmet's speech, having seen enough of the demon queen's actions to know she was sincere. A much larger portion see the speech as a sort of formality; something the queen is obligated to say, but not necessarily mean. But for the most part, the crowd is just uneasy, all eyes on the remains of what had been a quartet of functional demons not too long ago; the Depths could have some nasty surprises, but the notion that there now existed someone here they could bump into at any time who could reduce them to puddles was... disturbing.

Braon shuffles her way over to another part of the crowd and throws out another shout, this one a little more productive: "What about the killers? What's being done about them?"

[Earl of Purple]

Prison Realm

The Hand of Justice is shoved off the walkway, dropping the lantern and flailing with giant hand and legs. The other pushes the door shut and holds itself against the cell's entrance, not willing to let the Skull free- and now the door is shut, the Skull of Am-Het is now powerless once again.

Sylvanas

The Dweller looks around, eyes wide, and follows Magdalene. She's not a very experienced survivalist, so makes quite a bit of noise even trying to be sneaky. She was warned about looking up, so she doesn't, instead keeping her eyes focused down- on her feet, the trees upon which she walks, and anything that may lie beneath. She shivers when she sees her guide's unnatural footprints, and tells herself it's the cold. If the younger girl wanted to kill her, skin her and eat her flesh, then there was plenty of opportunity when she was freezing to death. Even with the furs and her jumpsuit, the Dweller is cold, but she tries toughing it out. Her teeth chatter, her breath steams and snow settles upon her hair, but she's not giving up yet.

[Rebonack]

[Sylvanas]

It is deathly still.

No wind.

No singing birds.

Even the thrumming heartbeat of the woods is silently.

There's only eerie lights here. And the ghostly whisper of settling snow.

Snow that crunches under the Dweller's boots.

Her guide, by contrast, is utterly silent.

Magdalene winces every now and again, glancing back irritably at the Dweller every time she makes more noise than the girl thinks is reasonable.

Which, apparently, is often.

"(Flowering) hell, you move around like you've gotta buncha tin cans tied to you," she hisses in a whisper that doesn't carry far, but is audible enough to the woman's ears. "You're lucky-"

Magdalene suddenly freezes, head jerking to the side as she sniffs a few times.

"Don't move," she whispers. "Don't breath. Stand still, stay silent."

Somewhere below them a branch groans under a sudden weight.

[Earl of Purple]

Sylvanas

Every time Magdalene glares at her, the Vault Dweller winces, and tries to do better. Unfortunately, still her feet crunch on hidden ice under the snow, she rustles branches when she moves past them- or slips, and grabs them to avoid plummeting from the branch into whatever waits below- a maw, she thinks.

Magdalene seems... worried, now. That is the best reason to do what she's told she's heard, and so the Vault Dweller tightens her grip on her spear, holds her breath and stays still. Hopefully the blue of her jumpsuit is sufficiently camouflaged by snow and fur that she can't be spotted despite not moving.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
Sekhmet can tell the succubi aren't convinced by her words. Honestly, she didn't really expect them to be. The second call, unlike the first, provokes her to answer. "We are doing everything in our power to locate and destroy these monsters, but the Depths are vast, and they may have escaped into one of our neighbors' domains. At the first sign of them, I shall commit whatever forces are necessary to put a stop to them." She's expecting more questions to arise from this, but maybe she'll be lucky and actually able to get on with the funeral.

[Rebonack]

[Sylvanas]

A very, very tense two minutes follow.

It isn't immediately obvious what's moving around nearby, but it sure sounds like something.

Probably something that would eat them given a chance.

Considering what Magdalene said about this forest everything here would probably eat them given a chance.

It won't be immediately apparent to the Dweller that anything has really changed, but quite suddenly Magdalene will motion to her and start walking again.

"C'mon keep moving," she whispers, unslinging her targe off her back as she goes. It's a simple round shield at first glance. Wood overlaid with bronze including several unfriendly looking spikes. She wasn't carrying it at the ready before, but now she is, which likely means she's expecting there might still be trouble in the near future.

If she can just stick to smashing things with her shield then maybe she won't have to transform. If she doesn't have to do that then maybe this trek will turn out better than the last one.

[Recaiden]

Prison Realm

The Hand of Justice is shoved off the walkway, dropping the lantern and flailing with giant hand and legs. The other pushes the door shut and holds itself against the cell's entrance, not willing to let the Skull free- and now the door is shut, the Skull of Am-Het is now powerless once again.

Kiun gets back to her feet, stretching her wings with pain on her face.
She warns the Hand, "Move away from the door. I do not need to hurt you, but I won't let you push me around or decide things for me."

[Brefaisil]

Nobody who is still alive today. There are a few who are still in Maesda who may have the means or the will to harm Adea, but not both. Whoever did it has long since passed from this world.

The queen was originally meant to serve a diplomatic purpose. She married King Arnbaith as a way of affirming a peace treaty of sorts with the Lesser Wood clan, so the fiendlings would always find a sympathetic ear in Brefaisil. In those days, I would even say she had a good heart, eager to mend the long-since-broken relationship between our peoples.

But since she took power, it's been one after another series of bad decisions. War with Lady Huelwen. The mass execution of traitors and "traitors". Sealing the lower levels, digging out the tunnels. And a few other things I could ascribe only to malice.

Now see that she has ruled these lands for more than ten years. Many of our finest warriors have fought against the fiendlings in Absum's name for nearly as long. And yet here stands one they can not touch, the most dangerous among them. Would you not be humbled?

I would not have gotten into this situation. But I can appreciate what you are saying. It's not so different from how things shook out in a certain city.
Well, what are these few other malicious things?

And of those still in Maesda, who have the means?

[Ironsmith]

Scorching Depths
Sekhmet can tell the succubi aren't convinced by her words. Honestly, she didn't really expect them to be. The second call, unlike the first, provokes her to answer. "We are doing everything in our power to locate and destroy these monsters, but the Depths are vast, and they may have escaped into one of our neighbors' domains. At the first sign of them, I shall commit whatever forces are necessary to put a stop to them." She's expecting more questions to arise from this, but maybe she'll be lucky and actually able to get on with the funeral.

[Scorching Depths]

That gets a few murmurs of assent from the crowd; they might not believe that Sekhmet shared any amount of comradery with them, but self-defense (and defense of them, by extent) was something they understood. The answer they got was vague, but more reassuring than silence.

Braon makes her way over to another part of the crowd, ready to throw out more questions if the need arises, but for now just watching Sekhmet to see what she she would say and do.

[Brefaisil]

I would not have gotten into this situation. But I can appreciate what you are saying. It's not so different from how things shook out in a certain city.
Well, what are these few other malicious things?

And of those still in Maesda, who have the means?

[Brefaisil]

Most of them petty, interpersonal interactions with the staff of the castle. She has little consideration for the servants and has been known to punish them harshly for failing to carry out her orders... or for carrying out her orders in some way other than she "intended", or carrying them out and her mind changing later, that sort of thing.

Of those in Maesda, I could see nobody short of a Lord or Lady attempting harm on Adea; they may certainly try, but they have no more chance for success than an ant does against a tempest. Even among the Lords, that sort of power is rare... and as with Breonite, derived partially from Adea herself. They would not profit by her demise.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
Sekhmet directs her attention (and hopefully everyone else's) to the four guards serving as pallbearers, each carrying one of the bottles of remains. She nods, and together, they pour the liquified succubi into the grave that was dug for this purpose.
One might notice that one of the bottles was full of liquid that wasn't quite the same consistency as the others; one guard surreptitiously swapped her bottle out; she has other ideas on what to do with the deceased succubus.
But Sekhmet doesn't notice, nor do most of the onlookers, who are invited now to throw earth (ash really) into the grave to begin filling it.

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

Braon is too far back to see it, and most of the succubi are too uncomfortable with the idea of liquified demon remains to look too closely at it when they see it. The switch won't raise many eyebrows.

What follows is some pretty grim work. The number of demons present makes it go by pretty quickly in absolute terms, but the process seems to drag on as nobody wants to think too hard about what they're doing. Eventually, the grave is filled, and a few of the succubi look to Sekhmet to see if there's anything else to this ceremony.

If not, the crowd will disperse and Braon will approach Sekhmet, giving the demon queen a weary sigh. "Well, that was cheery."

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
"It's a funeral," Sekhmet answers, "Not a time to shout insults," she adds pointedly. She's been around Braon enough to recognize her voice. The questions were at least productive though.

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

"If I didn't, nobody would have." Braon replies with a dismissive wave. "I was only saying what was on everyone's mind. That's why you made that deal with me, isn't it? To get my ears where yours aren't?" She gives Sekhmet an arched eyebrow and a little smile. "They needed those questions answered. But they were too afraid to ask. You don't want that situation to continue."

[Recaiden]

[Brefaisil]

Most of them petty, interpersonal interactions with the staff of the castle. She has little consideration for the servants and has been known to punish them harshly for failing to carry out her orders... or for carrying out her orders in some way other than she "intended", or carrying them out and her mind changing later, that sort of thing.

Of those in Maesda, I could see nobody short of a Lord or Lady attempting harm on Adea; they may certainly try, but they have no more chance for success than an ant does against a tempest. Even among the Lords, that sort of power is rare... and as with Breonite, derived partially from Adea herself. They would not profit by her demise.

Such petty cruelty reflects poorly on her, but it's hardly the doom of the world.

I wonder, have you never had a Lord so troubled, so self-destructive, that they might attack their own patron?

Marcie starts to lower the heart.

I thank you for your insight, Pontiff. I expect I will return with more questions before too long.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
"Yes, but that was very rude," Sekhmet replies. "You could have voiced those concerns when I was holding court." She's not even touching on the insult that started the whole thing. That was the rudest.

[Ironsmith]

[Brefaisil]

Such petty cruelty reflects poorly on her, but it's hardly the doom of the world.

I wonder, have you never had a Lord so troubled, so self-destructive, that they might attack their own patron?

Marcie starts to lower the heart.

I thank you for your insight, Pontiff. I expect I will return with more questions before too long.

[Brefaisil]

No, not ever. Men and women who are prone to such things do not become Lords and Ladies. The two characteristics are antithetical.

And I thank you for your company, Miss Atorre. I am alone with my thoughts more often than not. It is good to have another to speak with, even if the subject is unpleasant. I look forward to our next meeting.

Scorching Depths
"Yes, but that was very rude," Sekhmet replies. "You could have voiced those concerns when I was holding court." She's not even touching on the insult that started the whole thing. That was the rudest.

[Scorching Depths]

"Why would I do that? How many of those ladies would have been present at court?" Braon asks, flapping her cloak behind her. "The only people who would have been helped then would be the ones who already know what's going on. Besides, have you ever known me to give one flying-"

A succubus in the background sneezes loudly, clearing ash from her nose. Eugh.

"-about being rude?" Braon challenges, arms crossed.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
"Braon, it's a funeral. Show some decorum for once." Sekhmet sighs. "We really do need to find those monsters though. Any news from our Lethean guests?" It's been a few days since their arrival. Braon's been told to keep an eye on them; maybe they let something slip in the intervening time. Maybe some sort of more proactive espionage needs to be done, but what?

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

"They've been getting restless, but since you gave the lockdown order, they haven't left the palace. They've mostly been alleviating their frustrations in the usual way. They've been at it all week, actually... it's kind of impressive." Braon observes, fanning herself. "Although, I should mention that the incubus split off this morning. I don't think he's left the palace, but he's leaving the other two to their own devices."

[Recaiden]

[Brefaisil]

No, not ever. Men and women who are prone to such things do not become Lords and Ladies. The two characteristics are antithetical.

And I thank you for your company, Miss Atorre. I am alone with my thoughts more often than not. It is good to have another to speak with, even if the subject is unpleasant. I look forward to our next meeting.

Interesting. If true, that narrows the pool of suspects considerably...

Fare as well as you can. Given the man's poor circumstances.

Marcie takes a moment to step out on the balcony and address the sky, speaking almost in another voice.
"This is the leader of your church, Absum? Is he really the best this place has?"

They don't expect an answer, though.
Next is to head in and ask directions to the Lords and Ladies within the city.

[Earl of Purple]

Sylvanas

After a minute or so, the Dweller gets more nervous and really hopes it goes soon, particularly because her nose has started to tingle. She manages to hold the sneeze in until after Magdalene gives the all clear, but her eyes are watering before then. She manages to muffle the sneeze in her sleeve, but maybe not enough. "Sorry, sorry. It's the cold, y'know?" Magdalene probably does not know, though the Dweller does at least seem genuinely sorry. She's really nervous and looking around scared.

Prison Realm

The last Hand of Justice doesn't move, determined to keep the Skull imprisoned. The other two that ran off towards the Weevil should be returning soon, and that's all the Hand can really hope for right now. They'd managed to get quite far away along this very long and narrow walkway.