Planeside 3

[Fenric]

[Dho Chladach]

Yi continues her vigil while the avatar rests. Out of curiousity, she summons her ball and idly scrys the past of this area: not really looking for anything in particular, just poking around for anything of interest.

[Palace of Orochi]

The king nods

"Ah, good. That is not so unusual a situation among very long-lived or even immortal beings: it would be quite the disruption for any of my daughters."

then he looks thoughtful

"Well... why don't you tell me about what it is like now. What sort of subjects do you have, what do they do, and what are they supposed to do."

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
"Time here is fluid for those with the power to use it. Depending on who you ask, you've been talking to me here for ten minutes or over a week. I'm just exerting a little of my influence to ensure you'll arrive right when she starts." That might be worrying to hear, but it should be fine, right?
Right?

Palace of Orochi
"Uh, they're devils. Mostly succubi. They seduce people and tempt them into corruption, then take their souls. Uh, that's what they're supposed to do, but I don't want them to do that. Some of them are, uh, sort of indirectly created by me, and those ones are, uh, okay. But the ones that were around when my mother was in charge, uh, don't respect me at all." Because they're more beholden to Sekhmet's will.

[Ironsmith]

[Dho Chladach]

Yi continues her vigil while the avatar rests. Out of curiousity, she summons her ball and idly scrys the past of this area: not really looking for anything in particular, just poking around for anything of interest.

[Dho Chladach]

[Twenty-Three Years Ago]
Hail!
Hail!
Hail!
Chant the cadre of silver knights as they pour over the village, weapons drawn as they heard the horned townspeople toward large, cage-backed carts.

"By order of his majesty, King Arnbaith the Unbroken, the fiendlings of Burning Beach are to submit to relocation beyond Maesda's northern border. Any who stay behind will be found guilty of treason against the crown and put to death by beheading. Any who return after relocation will be found similarly guilty of treason and likewise beheaded. This is the will of King Arnbaith; hail to the King!"

Hail!
Hail!
Hail!
The chorus continues, as the knights crowd the carts full and lock them up, some already starting on the bumpy, miserable ride to the north.

A little ways away, two of the knights wrestle a curly-haired horned youth to the ground, holding his arms at his sides. "You should know better than to speak to us that way, brat!"

"Leave him alone! He's just a boy, he didn't mean it!"

"Like hell he didn't." One of the knights sneers. "...You know what I think, Abel?"

"What's that, Seth?"

"I think the little blighter was trying to run. Don't you?" The knight draws his sword, and-

The vision goes black, the last echoes of the horrified mother's scream dying away in the distance.

Scorching Depths
"Time here is fluid for those with the power to use it. Depending on who you ask, you've been talking to me here for ten minutes or over a week. I'm just exerting a little of my influence to ensure you'll arrive right when she starts." That might be worrying to hear, but it should be fine, right?
Right?

[Scorching Depths]

Braon doesn't really think anything of it as she heads to the courtyard. At worst, she's been missing for a while... but who cares, right? Sekhmet gave her free rein of the palace. She didn't expect her to be easy to find in all that time, did she?

In short, Braon might not be entirely prepared when she walks in on Sekhmet holding court.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
Braon might be surprised to learn that from Sekhmet's perspective, about a day has passed. Not ridiculous numbers of years or anything like that.
In the courtyard, Sekhmet is waiting, along with a half dozen or so succubus attendants, some of which are asking questions, and some of which are just there. Sekhmet herself looks... different. She towers over everyone else, beautiful and terrible, clad in flame and molten gold. The flame which always hovers above her head is as bright as a tiny sun, and her ponytail moves ever so slightly in a nonexistent breeze.
A gigantic, scarred monster of a fiend is currently speaking. "My queen. I have brought the latest shipment from the canyon Processing Center." "Put it in the vault with the others. I will, uh, see to it later." She pauses when she sees Braon, and continues. "Who's next?"

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

"Well, look who got all dolled up." Braon sneers, striding into the room with way more confidence than she was feeling. "Nobody told me this was going to be a formal event. I would've dressed up, but I seem to have left all my good clothes on another plane of existence." She gives Sekhmet a glare that could best be described as halfway between "what the hell, lady?" and "you have a very punchable face". "...I think you see where this is going."

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
Sekhmet looks at Braon with some disdain. "I had clothes left for you in your room, of course." She's a queen. She's supposed to be serene when holding court. She won't rise to this bait. "What is it you need?" Other than the clothes bit. "I can't let you go yet. I'm working on something to help with that." Not now, but in her free time.

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

"Can't or won't?" Braon demands, arms crossed. "Because when you left me for dead on that mountaintop, you made it pretty damn clear you can get from A to B without much trouble around here. And frankly, who are you to have brought me here in the first place?" She steps forward, anger clear in her voice as she keeps talking. "You've played at me being a guest in this house, but we both know that's a bloody lie. A guest can leave whenever she sees fit. No matter how you put it, you holding me here against my will makes me a prisoner. And I'm not about to stand for it!"

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
Everyone in the room is growing silent and watching the confrontation warily. "Won't. Not yet." Sekhmet stands up and takes one menacing step towards Braon. "I may be sworn to help you, but you're still a child-murderer. I think I'd rather keep you safe here until it's time to finish our deal," Sekhmet replies, "Besides, you have enemies out there. They can't ever reach you here. And I told you, I'm working on something that can get you in and out without you needing to bother me."

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

"Couple of problems with that." Braon growls. "First, no, I'm not 'still' a child murderer; I never was and never will be. And I don't just mean in the sense that I was never successful; killing children was never in the cards in the first place!" She snaps. "And second, you could solve that problem right now with the most basic of gestures, and yet refuse to do so. Let me worry about my enemies. Get me home and get the here out of my way." She's giving Sekhmet a withering glare, literally so. It should be obvious to Sekhmet that she hates being here and is only going to hate Sekhmet herself more the longer she stays.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
"I'm sure you had nothing but kindness in mind for the children you kidnapped," Sekhmet retorts sarcastically. She doesn't care what Braon actually did or was planning to do. She doesn't take kindly to harming children. "Perhaps I haven't made myself clear." The air in the room abruptly seizes Braon and attempts to pin her against the wall, off the ground so her head is level with Sekhmet's. "You coerced me into helping with your murder plot, but don't expect me to like you. You're here, where I can keep an eye on you, until this," she opens her hand to reveal a golden choker studded with rubies hovering above her palm, "Is ready. A device to let you come and go here without my having to meet with a person who makes my skin crawl every time she speaks."

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

"...Well, yes, ac-" is all Braon manages to get out before Sekhmet pins her to the wall. Braon's hands immediately go to her throat; an instinct that had served her well over a long career of thugs and guards trying to intimidate her with a neck lift. Though it quickly becomes apparent that Sekhmet is being abnormally charitable and not choking her out in front of the court and everybody, Braon's hands remain there, just in case she changes her mind. She glares daggers at the demon queen as she speaks, her gaze settling on the choker and softening when she realizes Sekhmet is literally just going to hand her the material she needs.

Of course, Braon isn't thinking too hard about that.

Because Sekhmet just unambiguously confirmed herself to be another in a long list of jailers, executioners, and ruffians who thought they had some kind of hold over her. And Braon had a message for her, and them, which she delivers promptly.

phbt

If Sekhmet ever wondered what pure contempt in spit form felt like, now she would know.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
The choker crumbles to ashes as Sekhmet closes her fist around it.
She's been spat on before. "Her kind" were not well received in her homeworld. The saliva sizzles on Sekhmet's skin. She wipes it off impassively, condensing it into a small bead with her magic and holding it between her fingers. "Guards. See Miss Hexenborne back to her room please. Technically, she could just teleport Braon back, but this is personal.
A pair of fiends step out of the shadows near the throne, their armor pitch black with horned helms and vicious, barbed polearms slung across their backs. One is male and the other is female, but neither are a succubus or incubus, they're larger, more physically powerful.
The unseen force drops Braon, and Sekhmet retreats back to her throne, clearly enraged.

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

Braon drops to the ground, catching herself on her hands. She slowly rises to her feet and gives Sekhmet a cold, joyless smile. "Look at that. You can be honest after all."

When the guards lead her out, Braon offers token resistance, refusing to be dragged by the shoulders, but willing to go with them all the same. She gives a dramatic flick of her cloak as she turns around and storms down the hall.

From behind, she looks almost indistinguishable from her uncle.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
The door to the room is shut and locked.
But Braon can probably be disappointed with her captors. The key Sekhmet originally gave her is still in the room. She could probably just walk out.
This is not much of a professional operation, but it sounds like the two fiends are standing guard outside the door. The scraping sounds of their armor can occasionally be heard.

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

Naturally, Braon doesn't try to leave through that door, anyway. It was unlikely the key Sekhmet gave her still worked; they would have had to replace the lock by now, since the old one ran off to live a life of meaning and purpose. Unless Sekhmet went through the trouble of making a new lock that still worked with the old key, it was just a useless hunk of metal now.

Braon sighs and sits cross-legged on the bed, waiting for something to happen. Usually, after a show of defiance like that, her captors would come by to speak with her; usually to punish her more directly, gloat, or try to talk her into behaving "better", sometimes under each other's guises. She wasn't counting on this, though; Sekhmet might just be the type to keep her isolated out of sheer disgust.

Or maybe one of her conspirators would show up. She certainly hoped so; they seemed like fun to be around. Though they were probably going to be upset that she'd already messed things up, since all she had to do in order for Sekhmet to give her a conjured item was sit still and be quiet.

At the very least, someone would eventually have to come by with food. Unlike the other fiends here, Braon is still very much mortal and requires sustenance. Sekhmet should know this, and wouldn't be able to neglect feeding her if she wanted her to live.

So Braon just digs the letter out of her pocket, tosses the useless scrap of paper off the bed, and sits quietly, trying not to go insane from the isolation. However long that takes.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
It will be a while before anyone checks on Braon. Food appears every so often on her desk when she's not looking. If she bothers to use them as a timepiece, three meals pass before there's a knock at her wall.
Yes, her wall.
Someone is knocking on the back wall of her room from the outside.

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

Knocking from the wall?

...Okay, that was new.

Braon makes her way over to the wall and presses her ear to it, listening to the pattern of knocks. When she's sure she's grasped it, she repeats it back with her own fist.

[Sekhmet's Court]

Just before all the business on Sekhmet's plate today is closed, the doors at the far side of the courtyard open, admitting a horned man with a shaggy beard and a wicked smile, wearing an ornately-knotted leather chestpiece and a familiar green cape. His two attendants cower behind him, looking around the courtyard furtively, trying to assess any possible dangers. They were, after all, in a hell.

"Good evening, your highness." Braeg greets with a bow. "Pardon the interruption, but I must speak with you about a matter of some urgency."

[Recaiden]

[Dho Chladach]

"It's difficult to tell for sure." Seth says, in response to being asked how long ago the curse took effect. "It feels like it must have been years, but without any distinction from one hour, day, or season to the next, tracking the time has been difficult." Although Inari will know from Braeg that it's been like this for around a decade.

"We can leave for Brefaisil whenever you're ready."

"A long time for you, not so long for the world." She muses.

After several moments of checking the machine and picking up gear for a trip into the unknown, Marcie confirms to Seth that they're ready, and takes the only real seat in the vehicle.
The engine roars to life, the rotors and propellers spin faster and faster; before you know it they're heading forward and up into the ominous sunless sky. Off to Brefaisil!

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
As Braon searches for the source of the knocking, it begins to move through the wall over to the wardrobe. Then there comes a hoarse whisper. "This is the wardrobe, right?"

Sekhmet's Court
"What is it?" Sekhmet was not expecting anyone more. Especially not this stranger. "I don't have much time." She's still in her queenly form; she won't change back until she leaves.

[Ironsmith]

[Dho Chladach]

"A long time for you, not so long for the world." She muses.

After several moments of checking the machine and picking up gear for a trip into the unknown, Marcie confirms to Seth that they're ready, and takes the only real seat in the vehicle.
The engine roars to life, the rotors and propellers spin faster and faster; before you know it they're heading forward and up into the ominous sunless sky. Off to Brefaisil!

[Dho Chladach => North Maesdan Countryside]

"Hm. Perhaps not." Seth chuckles dryly, climbing in behind Marcie.

Navigation here is going to be difficult; once they're in the air, the horizon is just glare in every direction, only occasionally broken by the occasional tree or mountain, less so as they gain altitude. It's too dark to see much detail on the ground below, and visibility in the sky is likewise limited. It should theoretically be navigable via instruments, but visually, there won't be many points of reference.

Which is why there's more cause for concern than usual when something slaps the side of the helicopter, giving it a violent shake.

Scorching Depths
As Braon searches for the source of the knocking, it begins to move through the wall over to the wardrobe. Then there comes a hoarse whisper. "This is the wardrobe, right?"

[Scorching Depths]

"...Yes?" Braon opens the wardrobe and pokes her head in, as though that was going to help her see who was knocking on her room. "Mister Tumnus, is that you?" She jokes.

Sekhmet's Court
"What is it?" Sekhmet was not expecting anyone more. Especially not this stranger. "I don't have much time." She's still in her queenly form; she won't change back until she leaves.

[Sekhmet's Court]

"Then you have my sympathy, as I have no doubt this will take some time." Braeg drops to one knee, showing some amount of deference to the demon queen. "Word has reached me that y-"

All creation, hear my plea
This man is your enemy

The telepathic voice is recognizable as Braon's, but... more so. Younger, more lively. Her tone is one of righteous fury, directed at the man kneeling before Sekhmet now.

"-ou have come to have my niece in your custody. I-"

He who speaks in only lies
Who steals daughters from their beds
Who severs fathers from their heads

"-have come to entreat you for her freedom." Braeg smiles. "I understand that is not-"

Who commands the dead to rise
And ate hearts before my eyes

"-a decision to be made hastily, but I trust you understand me when I say there is some implicit urgency involved." Braeg concludes.

[Recaiden]

Navigation by instruments it is. Keep the heading steady, raise altitude for most of the trip, pay attention to the wind-speed...

Marcie moves like she's someone completely different while at the controls, totally precise and minimal of motion.

The impact leaves glimmering blue hexagons in the air beside the flying machine for a few moments; although of very light construction, it's reinforced by fields of usually-invisible energy.
Then the pilot takes a quick glance to the side to try to get a glimpse of what happened. Debris swirling in the air? Has a flying monster taken issue with their passage?

[Ironsmith]

[North Maesdan Countryside]

Amidst the glowing hexagons, Marcie will be able to see a winged silhouette of some kind; it's hard to tell from just a glance whether it's a bird, some kind of bat, or something else entirely. Fortunately, the shield seems to have taught it that the helicopter was not food, and it quickly leaves to go about its business.

Seth lets out a sigh of relief. He'd worried they might run into trouble of the airborne variety between here and Brefaisil, but the vehicle seemed to be well-protected enough that there wouldn't be anything that would pose a threat to them this close to Dho Chladach.

Then again, of course there wasn't. Inari wouldn't let anything happen to her faithful servants while she was around, now, would she?

Most of the rest of the trip will be more or less uneventful; there will be a few more bird/bat/whatever crashes, but nothing that could do any serious harm and didn't quickly learn to leave them alone.

About halfway through the trip, Marcie will likely notice a change in the otherwise impenetrable darkness below: a pair of luminous, slit-pupiled eyes, watching them as they fly overhead. By this point, they'll be quite a distance up, so the mere fact that they can see the monster's eyes should tell Marcie all she needs to know about the scale of creature they mostly didn't see.

"That'll be Hallower's Rest, or at least, what's left of it." Seth mutters. "...All the more reason to be glad we're not making this trip on foot."

If they don't stop here, they'll arrive at Brefaisil within a few hours. Whether it's a smooth landing or not depends on whether Marcie can tell that one of the spires reaches this altitude or not.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
The wardrobe is very full of fancy clothes in approximately Braon's size.
But notably, there's also something else. A gleaming steel axe blade comes crashing through the back of the wardrobe, most likely narrowly missing Braon. A second stroke a moment later will rend the back of the wardrobe to splinters, creating a makeshift secret passage. Four figures stand in the dark passageway beyond.

Sekhmet's Court
Sekhmet frowns at this stranger. She can put two and two together. This is the guy Braon wants to murder. "May I ask why? She seems to hate you; if I release her, she will undoubtedly attempt to murder you." There is powerful magic at work here; of that Sekhmet is sure.

[Ironsmith]

[Scorching Depths]

Braon jumps back as the axe smashes through the wardrobe, letting out a startled yelp. "Absum almighty, you could have taken my head off with that thing!" She exclaims. "Maybe a little more warning next time?! 'Hey Braon, we're going to chop through the friggin' wall, maybe don't put your head there'?"

Once the initial adrenaline rush wears off, Braon will take a calming sigh and approach the four of them. "...Yeah, I know what you're going to say. 'What the here were you thinking, Braon? Have you gone soft in the head? Are you trying to get executed?'" She looks around the four of them to confirm that is, indeed, what they're thinking.

[Sekhmet's Court]

"I know, right?!" Braeg exclaims excitedly. "I can't even get most of her cousins to write me, and here she is with a full-on vendetta!" He grins. "And here I was worried that, after all this time we'd spent apart, she had forgotten about me."

All creation, hear my cry
I condemn this man to die

"Sorry, that's getting a little annoying, isn't it?" Braeg adjusts the granite ring on his left ring finger, causing a soft blue glow to emnate from it, and the telepathic voice to fade to inaudibility. "So, as I was saying... by all means, let her try. Hate can be a powerful motivator. She won't manage to kill me, but she will learn a thing or two in the process." He smiles. "And isn't that what this whole life thing is all about?"

[Recaiden]

Some local animal - or some degree of vampiric monster, more likely.
But it doesn't seem to be keeping up with them.
Nothing to worry about.

Now, I think Seth is overestimating the amount of divine protection available here. They might be faithful servants in one sense, but in the other, not quite as much. But then, it's unlikely anything too bad could happen to them here any way. Just inconvenient death.

"Do you know that one?"
The unreasonably large creature below, she means. Seth can't have missed it, can he?

When they're in what should be the vicinity of Brefaisil, they'll be coming down quite slowly and cautiously. Without monsters in hot pursuit or turbulent weather besides the endless dimness, they can take their time approaching the spire.

[Earl of Purple]

Prison Realm

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Beyond, there's a room made from granite blocks. It's a large room, with a single door at the far end. The floor is littered with more skeletons and broken weaponry, mostly humanoid but some of the humanoids were... odd. Some of the skulls are elongated, or come to odd peaks, or are decorated with horns. The jaws have far too many teeth. The hands have extra fingers, or thumbs, or long fingers, or teeth growing from the nails. There's some benches along the sides of the room, no other lifts, and a table and chair next to the door with a book and a pen resting on it.

[bc56]

Scorching Depths
"Actually, we're here to tell you that your uncle has come to negotiate your release." The lead succubus says with total nonchalance, "If you still want to kill him, this might be your best chance." She probably shouldn't be able to know about that, but apparently she does.

Sekhmet's Court
Sekhmet considers these words. Clearly Braeg wants Braon to hate him, but that doesn't make any sense to her. "I don't believe she should be learning anything from you. I know about your 'family tradition.'" She circumspectly replies. "I won't be releasing her into your custody under any circumstances."

[Ironsmith]

Some local animal - or some degree of vampiric monster, more likely.
But it doesn't seem to be keeping up with them.
Nothing to worry about.

Now, I think Seth is overestimating the amount of divine protection available here. They might be faithful servants in one sense, but in the other, not quite as much. But then, it's unlikely anything too bad could happen to them here any way. Just inconvenient death.

"Do you know that one?"
The unreasonably large creature below, she means. Seth can't have missed it, can he?

When they're in what should be the vicinity of Brefaisil, they'll be coming down quite slowly and cautiously. Without monsters in hot pursuit or turbulent weather besides the endless dimness, they can take their time approaching the spire.

[North Maesdan Countryside => Brefaisil]

Seth just stares at her, like he was surprised she was even asking the question. "...Hallower's Rest." He reiterates. "You may recall that the strigoi curse forces us to consume the life forces of others to survive. If we do that too much, we create demons. In the really bad cases, the spiritual bloating that occurs is accompanied by analogous physical symptoms." He nods toward the eyes. "Hallower's Rest was a thriving city when I last saw it. One way or another, we're looking at the only survivor."

When they've landed, Seth will hop out of the helicopter and produce a copper lantern, which he promptly lights, illuminating the immediate area. They've managed to land on an abnormally large balcony, surrounded on three sides by ornate, polished railing, with a heavy oak door leading into the tower on the fourth side. Seth approaches the balcony, holding his hand over the lantern and pulsing it rhythmically, creating a pattern of light flashes.

Soon, other lights will appear in the darkness below. It soon becomes apparent that they are still very high up, not just in terms of absolute altitude, but also just relative to the local area; there are lanterns that are barely pinpricks hundreds of meters below, and to the sides, and in some cases, not even far enough apart to be distinct from each other at this distance.

One other thing Marcie might notice; the floor they're standing on isn't brick, tile, or plaster. It appears to have been carved from solid stone, blending seamlessly with the walls.

In a few minutes, they'll finally be met by a horned woman in a crimson cloak with ermine trim, and a dress to match. She's flanked by a pair of men in full silver armor, who stand at attention as the door opens.

"Welcome, weary travelers, to Brefaisil." The horned woman greets cordially.

Scorching Depths
"Actually, we're here to tell you that your uncle has come to negotiate your release." The lead succubus says with total nonchalance, "If you still want to kill him, this might be your best chance." She probably shouldn't be able to know about that, but apparently she does.

[Scorching Depths]

"...Come again?" Braon frowns. "No part of that sentence makes any sense. My uncle wouldn't come here. He certainly wouldn't come here to bail me out. And I can't make an attempt on him from here." She smiles a little at that last part. "But, if you're telling me the truth, I assume you have a plan? Or at least a map?"

Sekhmet's Court
Sekhmet considers these words. Clearly Braeg wants Braon to hate him, but that doesn't make any sense to her. "I don't believe she should be learning anything from you. I know about your 'family tradition.'" She circumspectly replies. "I won't be releasing her into your custody under any circumstances."

[Sekhmet's Court]

"Which makes it rather fortunate that I'm not asking for custody of her." Braeg smiles. "She's a grown woman. She can have custody of herself. All I ask is that you release her." He strokes his beard in thought. "I'm curious... which family tradition did she tell you about? Mortals tend to find many of them unsavory. That whole thing with the hearts, for instance, or our proclivity for polyamory. Perhaps she tried to tell you we abduct children; as a habit, we don't, but she might not see it that way. Or our occasional forays into necromancy. There are quite a few to choose from."

[Recaiden]

[Prison Realm]
It's probably not good to be in a prison realm.
But Kiun luckily doesn't know that such is where she is, so she isn't bothered by it.

The bones are...a little surprising, but also comforting, since it's not just a 'trapped in an elevator' situation.

However, that fact is entirely put out of her mind by the shock of ending up on another plane, out of communication with everyone. Kiun notices that immediately, that there's no longer any voices at the back of her mind. Just her, totally alone.
If she can, she'll take several minutes just composing herself again, before skipping over the bones to look at the book.

[Brefaisil]

At least they have discovered, haven't they, that Brefaisil is still a city, and not one vast monstrosity.
While Seth is working with the lights and confirming that the city is still inhabited by relatively civilized people, Marcie is shutting the helicopter down properly.
She should just be finishing up and getting out onto the balcony when the door opens.

"Well met. We have come from Dho Chladach, and seek to audience with the king." They decide to get right to the point.

This place is impressive. It was made well, and not with any simple construction.
But how well it has withstood the curse on the world remains to be seen.

[Ironsmith]

[Brefaisil]

"My husband is not recieving any visitors." The horned woman replies coolly, giving what is clearly a well-rehearsed response. "Whatever business you had with him is now with me." She pauses and gives a dry little smile. "...Fortunately, you appear to have landed right on top of my bedchamber."

Seth scowls. No part of this situation sat well with him. "This isn't right." He mutters to Marcie. "We can't make arrangements with a f-"

"With your queen?" The horned woman interrupts.

Seth's scowl deepens, but he says nothing further.