"Do not underestimate them, after the murder she had a body double waiting for us at a place she wasn't sure we had discovered yet. Whatever part of their plots you discover, assume it's a deception they wanted you to find."
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"Do not underestimate them, after the murder she had a body double waiting for us at a place she wasn't sure we had discovered yet. Whatever part of their plots you discover, assume it's a deception they wanted you to find."
"I think that's agreeable, though I can't speak for the group. In any case, the main point of the audience was to warn of the dangers, so that we can help each other instead of getting in each other's way."
SpoilerI don't think I'm making an attack here. But, so far, the Despot's argument is in line with Onyx's thoughts.
Orchid nods as Onyx speaks; he's visibly gratified to see the Despot live up to his reputation as a very practical ruler. Water, gems, and the Lap... Essentially the same priorities that Orchid has for the city's stability.
"The only two things further that I wish to say are that, first, not all of us would make effective guards, and second that we had a sighting of a demon - or rather, servants to a demon, that mean there is a Demjen in Gem. It may be unrelated, but whoever commands it will need access to a body of water of some sort to keep it reliable. The servants I refer to are little metallic creatures called Chalcothetes, if it matters."
And with something to start on, you're less likely to run into Raziel's cult by accident...
SpoilerAlso no attack. Don't have enough Presence and the Despot gave me all the answers Orchid needed, for now.
No, I don't believe you made an attack either. Everyone seems to be in agreement.
"Terrible news indeed. They may already have infiltrated the reservoir watch system, or wish us to think that they have. I would ask you to find out which, first, or at least continue searching for leads into this movement."
Pyrus speaks wisely. But the deceptions Laurel wants them to find must end at some depth, right?
"Have you any other information? This leader, do you know the name she uses? What she looks like?"
The fool from the side pipes up. "Oh, now that, I can answer, my lord, if I am allowed to - as I was there when she all but threatened to cook my lord here alive. You see, he has such a soft touch with women" he says, in a mock confidential tone at the Despot. "In any case, our lady says to go by the name of Laurel, and the last time we saw her she presented to us as a beauty of long black hair and green eyes, clad in white. Probably fake, though, so who knows what she looks like!" he says, in that same "bohemian halfwit who thinks he's far smarter than he is" role. Has to be given to him, even taking into account the layered mystical help, Drake is quite good at playing a fop.
"You may consider your point accomplished then, and speak if you think it will help."
The despot listens and smiles; Drake does play his role well.
"That is better than nothing. Now, I want you all to find out whatever you can about their plans and members. Even if you only uncover more tricks, that is fewer lies we might believe at the wrong time. It would be a waste of your talents relegating you to guarding even our critical resources, no? They have survived thus far, so do not concern yourselves overmuch with that."
"Very well, sir. I agree that stripping away the lies will only help us. And if we can manage to find one without her knowing we have, then it might become our weapon instead."
Orchid glances to his companions and steps back, nothing more to say. Once he's had some time to prepare, he can see about coming back with plans for a communications network...
"Farewell then, my friend. We will return when we have something for you."
"May it be quickly that you return, friend. Luck go with you. Well, no sense in waiting, is there?" The despot rises from his throne and motions that the group depart, though if someone has an important thing to say, they can of course interrupt or ask to speak.
And so, arrangements with the Despot made, our heroes left the palace, their supernatural powers to keep this mundane wonder of a city intact and free.
Also perhaps eventually ruled by Pyrus and worshiping Kimbery.
Their mission had been made clear: find (and destroy?) Laurel, her minions, and her schemes. Try not to let her blow up the reservoirs or the mining tunnels. And eventually get some cell-phone manses. In return, they get trust, influence, and a good deal of money.
The palaces hallways are filled with activity as they begin to walk out the door and into the streets, as the sun begins to come up over the horizon. ((Does Creation actually have a horizon to it, or does the air just resolve into a blur after far enough? :smallconfused:)) The Despot and his mercenary legions and spies will not be idle either.
In the meantime, the Chosen have more immediate concerns. Raziel has a dark sermon to preach to the choir, the lay member, the desperate amidst the deserted market stalls. Pyrus has a Laurel double waiting on his porch.
Wing has contacts and friends to seek out in the city. Drake has people assembling to meet him, unknowing employees of the Sidereal waiting to be called upon, and rumours to investigate. Orchid has a new slave patiently exploring his master's place. Amelia hasn't made many plans, but she does have a street urchin handing her a mysterious letter directing her to a certain abandoned lot at midnight. Not to mention the charms to learn, the meditation to carry out, the casual discussions to have.
And let's not get started on all that's happening in the wider worlds...
Pyrus dismounts his bike and sends it off to the small stable he had built for it. He looks over the Laurel-clone. "Well, might as well make the most of things. I'll see a room is prepared for you, and I'll see if this place has anything like takeout..."
In retrospect, he was a bit quiet during the whole scene with the Despot.
That was to be expected...he wasn't a spur-of-the-moment orator, by any means. That's why he usually conferred with his "shoulder angels" when writing sermons.
Given how he was now proven conclusively sane, or at least only as mad as the Circle, Corona immediately switched her haranguing to steering the cultists away from the Yozis, but Nuitian shot that down-besides the fact that she was loyal, the Coadjutor had realized that a sudden change in tone after so long (how long was it, anyway?) would arouse suspicions from an already suspicious lot. Raziel agreed.
Thus, a conference with Beheris.
"Not affirming enough. We aren't fire-and-brimstone people here, my liege. We want our flock to understand that we are their guardians, not their generals. Cut out the 'vision of the traitors' falling bit and replace it with something like, um, 'vision of a great and shining kingdom, filled with water'."
The fact that the aalu was more like Corona caused the old Solar no end of amusement.
The Laurel-clone looks perfectly relaxed, and in good spirits. Same appearance as before: tall, dark hair, white clothes. "Of course. Thank you for this, and for not killing me. Maybe ya'll aren't so bad." She smiles and glances at the door.
If by 'this place' Pyrus means the house, he will likely be disappointed. If he instead means the city, he should be able to find a few street vendors selling kebabs and rolls and a suspiciously 'Chinese takeout' sort of place that's certainly not a front for a bunch of cultists if you look closely.
[hr]
Motion to a water-filled paradise in his preaching might well be a popular move, even after these three seasons, (humans are terrible, generally, and care little for the fallen primordials) but it is a big promise to live up to.
Drake, on his end, is goind to spend his time efficiently - so much to do. But first, he needs to get everyone together and inform them of some things.
So as soon as humanly possible, he'll get everyone together in Pyrus's house, make sure there are no prying ears, and start.
"<Okay, guys, I know we all have our projects, but I got a couple important news from up, and I thought I had to warn you all>". He gets up, obviously bothered and worried about what he's about to say. "<Basically, I asked for some reports on how the future of Gem was looking up - prophecies aren't exact, but they're good at showing where things will tend to head in broad strokes, thought they'd be useful. And what I was sent is not very heartening>" he sighs.
"<Basically, Gem's looking at some serious trouble in the coming years, so we better start working on the double. Signs point to a series of revolts in the Lap before two years, which will mean months without food caravans - and that's where Gem gets like eighty percent of its food. We are likely to be facing a locust-men attack at some indetermined point in the future, as well. But that's not the best part. Oh, no. That'd be too easy>" he says, with exasperated grim sarcasm. "<Apparently, the First and Forsaken Lion would like to make Gem into another Thorns - we can expect an attack somewhere before six years>"
He throws himself into one of the chairs. "<I have no idea how we're going to manage. Especially because we also have to stop Laurel, because if Yozi-worship becomes too widespread in Gem the Shrike might just pay us a visit>" he interrupts himself and looks up. "<Wait, I forgot, you people weren't drilled with hours upon hours of history. Anyone here who doesn't know what the Five-Metal Shrike is?>"
"I've been mixed up in it since the beginning. Laurel and I go way back, my whole life long. It was the least I could do to help out a bit, even if she hasn't been the same since the mind from your world arrived. She came home one day and said "They're throwing me a parade, and then we're going to Creation", and that was it."
She sighs, remembering other days in other worlds.
"I'm Twari, by the way. So, do you have some idea what she's planning?"
"Hey, I'm the ballsy underdog hero, not the idea guy. So, you're not from Creation. Are you a god or a demon?"
"Just a human. We were slaves, in Malfeas. Mortals are 'useful' to them."
Suddenly, she stops, a frightened look on her face. In the next moment her skin turns an odd shade of red and she begins to dissolve into a cloud of red smoke.
A familiar voice sounds from around a bend in the tunnel. "Sorry to ...ruin your dinner plans, Pyrus. But I can't have you knowing all about me. Just kidding. She had outlived her usefulness after the incident earlier. Try to enjoy the evening." Eyes closed, grinning broadly, Laurel gives him a cheery wave and starts casually towards (past?) our hero.
In unrelated news, if Amelia follows the note, she'll first encounter a sign, in English, saying "Honestly not a trap." with an arrow pointing onward.
"Son of a bitch!" He grabs his weapon, but he's pretty sure this isn't really laurel.
Almost immediately, Raziel brushed that thought from his mind. He was a Solar derivative! They had already done that with the South once!
That's the spirit! Don't take "physically impossible" for an answer, just plow right through!
...You sound a lot like a Twilight. Good for you, apart from the fact that we have all the geoforming power of the average unskilled farm hand.
Quiet, you.
In any case, it was showtime soon.
After a rather intensive proofread-he was proud to call himself a Grammar Nazi-Raziel got out his soapbox. It was showtime.
SpoilerQue to set the scene...
[Street]
"Hey. My mother has nothing to do with this." Not that Laurel's offended. She sounds amused.
"Oh, you want to fight?" Laurel lifts a hand up, forms a fingergun, and takes careful aim at Pyrus. "Bang." Nothing happens, but she keeps walking, getting closer (although her path does not lead to our Dragonblooded).
If you'd like to roll join battle...
[hr]
[Marketplace]
The noonday sun pours down, casting small sharp shadows.
But deep underground, where everyone is, it's a different story.
The glowstones have been shrouded with the market's close, and only the one revealed near the meeting-place provides illumination. At the furthest end of the cavern, in a storage area beyond the stalls and buildings, amidst stacked crates and locked chests,
A group is gathered, sitting on boxes and stones or the ground, or standing attentively, people are gathered. They have been here before, and liked what they heard, or they are near the end of their rope, and figure there is little harm in coming, and maybe great benefit.
One who had been watching for any latecomers joins the semi-circle, satisfied that no others will come. The air is heavy and silent, and all eyes lie on the preacher before them.
[hr]
Cathak Residence
Everyone ignores the Sidereal. :smalltongue:
He steps to the side, seeing if she'll stay with her misaligned course.
Leaving the Despot's palace, Onyx separates from the others. True, they have important business to discuss and plans to make, but he has his own appointments to make. Making sure that he isn't being followed, including doing a bit of quick turns and doubling back, he slowly makes his way to the Guild's quarter. Walking the streets, Onyx's head swims. Memories...not of his life, but that of his, well, his doubles. Happy times. But not his.
Shaking his head, he find himself in front of Geomph's house. It's diner time, and he can smell the aroma from the sweet glazes Geomph loved. Knocking on the door, he only has to wait a few seconds before a servant-slave, it's almost certainly a slave, and don't you dare forget it-opens the door.
"Hello, I'm looking for Geomph Pha. Can you tell him Wing is here to-"
The ser-slave begins to close the door, obviously trying to keep the rif-raf out.
"I'm sorry, sir. But this is a pri-"
"Onyx! You're Alive!"
But not before Geomph had rounded the corner to the hallway. A slightly rotund man, with a bushy, unmanageable beard, with an almost permanent blush, he looks more like someone you'd find in an alley next to a bar. Not the primary permanent Guild agent for Gem. But as long as Onyx could remember, he had been. Running forward, Geomph pushes the slave out of the way, embracing Wing in a fierce hug.
"Yes, I'm alive. It's a long story, but I escaped. Met some, well, friends. And now I'm here."
Though, not necessarily in that order.
"I'm sorry about your family. Band-"
A flash of anger. Of blurry memories, cries, and blood. "It wasn't bandits. It was regular Realm troops, with dragonblooded leading them."
A guarded look enters Geomph's eyes, and his normally loud voice lowers, as he leads Wing inside. "I know. It was an 'example'. But you can't go around saying that, not if you don't want the Realm to take it personally. And, while the Guild takes care of it's own, if it's between you and actual armed conflict with the Realm...."
"I know. I know. Sorry, it's still sore."
"Oh, I know lad. I know. But you survived, and returned to us. Come, join us for diner. So much has happened since you were last here..."
And so much of the evening pasted with Wing simply resting in company of his-not family. Oh, even though they weren't of blood they would have been that to the other, the double. But they were something close. The closest thing he had, now.
Much later, he and Geomph were standing by the exit.
"Are you su-"
Wing now gave his own hug, surprising Geomph for once. "No, I'll be fine. My friends are good. I'll see you soon, Uncle."
And with that, he left into the night.
____________
Later, Onyx joins with the others to listen to Drake's warnings. Part of it triggers something in his mind. Locust men...where have I heard that before.... The other warnings were dire enough, but he could feel a connection just beyond his reach.
"Sorry, Drake, I can't say I've ever heard of that. Is it some sort of rogue spirit or behemot- Oh! That's it! I remember where I heard of Locust men before; Ingosh's prophecy. It mentioned 'locusts who walk like men'....right before something about a 'great fire erupting in the south'. And the part about Green Sun Princes. There aren't, oh, about 50 of you, are there?"
This last bit was clearly directed at Orchid or Raziel.
SpoilerDrake is getting us together later, yes? If not, ignore that part of the post.
[Streets]
"Oh, you're just letting me go? Wise choice. Hahaha." A rather good villainous laugh echoes along the road, and Laurel lowers her hands to walk by.
Of course, if the villain thinks its' a good idea, is it? Or is that just what she wants you to think?
((I'm aknowledging Drascin's post, but since it's a flash-forward I won't speak yet.))
Amelia walks down the alleyway, noticing the streets become promptly less well kept. She glances around. And less well populated. If she hadn't Exalted, this is the sort of dark alley she'd probably be afraid of. On the other hand, once you've got a villainous Exalt after you, such things probably tend to fade into the background anyway.
Amelia finds the note, then spends a few moments simply staring at it. She turns it over to find the back blank. It's just... "Honestly not a trap." Uh...really? That's...transparent. That's not even 'I'm not trying particularly hard to fool you,' that's just obvious.
"...Alright, forget it; this is going to bother me for the rest of my life if I don't check it out. I'll give her the one chance." The Lunar follows in the direction indicated, watching and listening carefully for any sign of Laurel, or [indication of a trap]. She tried to focus on her sense of smell, but stopped with a snort as soon as she realized the pungent stuff she could pick up on wasn't odd for the alley. She tried to focus on her sense of smell, but stopped with a snort as soon as she realized the pungent stuff she could pick up on wasn't odd for the alley.
He lets her go, he knows he can't beat her alone. But as soon as she's out of sight he hurries to the others.
Raziel breathed deeply. Showtime.
"Disenfranchised of Gem, I bring good news..."
And as he spoke, his remaining reservations washed away. For this was his stage, and he was merely an actor. And he loved acting.
His lines? Not hard to remember at all, although that might have been because they were placed on the soapbox-he did just write out the thing, and he was still hearing the waves of Kimbery crash in his head. But he spoke them without stutter or hesitation, and when he did forget a line about "the grand emerald sun", he improved a new, just as grand one about "a sky filled with a rain of dreams and hopes".
He spoke of the broken nature of Creation without it's creators. He spoke of how the Anathema had destroyed the perfection of the world through patricide, and betrayal of the True Divinities. How the very climate of Gem was once an oasis, only to become the parched desert the inhabitants knew and hated.
But all was not lost, no-the surviving Divinities had found a hole in the prison made from the flesh of their Great King. They had heard the cries of a world in need of it's parents, the tears of lost children. And with the help of said children, they could be free again, free to create a paradise for their chosen people; A grand palace-city of water and cool, where they would not know fear or pain.
In other words, a variation on what he normally preached. But here was the kicker-it seems that the Divinities had gained new allies to their cause, atoning children of the Anathema-among them, great crusaders against the Fair Folk, a bringer of joy with eyes of the night sky, and a herald of perfect order. Of course, he didn't specify what they looked like (that would be rather underhanded), but the crowd which had grown used to this variety of postmillenalist doctrine did quite the double take at this progression in events.
See? I told you that would work!
SpoilerSecond Kimbery Excellency for two successes, personal pool.
Rolling in the OOC thread.
Also, ditto on what LauWren said.
Orchid returns home by a slightly roundabout route. Melodies and his quiet chants of careful safety (paranoia?) are getting to him at this point, and he finds himself wondering whether the Despot should be allowed to know where he lives. The debate continues for several blocks, but in the end Orchid is forced to concede; he's made too many risks today already, and the Despot has not even a shared history of Earth to trust.
Of course, that means that he's moving a little more quickly than he ought as he enters and closes the door, and so finding that one stupid mortal again brings him skidding to a halt. Seeing an unknown man walking into his kitchen is bad enough (at least there's nothing incriminating that's reached easily without telekinetic power...) but it only gets worse when Orchid does recognize the man. Of course that annoying mortal would be here, exactly as he should be, exactly as Orchid doesn't want.
He looks at the man, expression slightly condescending without thinking about it, and says "The Dynast and myself never actually got around to you, business-wise. As far as I'm concerned, I don't actually own you and don't care to own you; I have friends who would frown on that." Hopefully, that will be enough for the man to leave. Otherwise... Well, he'll think of something. Perhaps long, long hours of shopping each day to keep the man out of the way.
No, Orchid. He draws attention; he's a liability. Besides, our alliance with Amelia is the strongest bond we have - better to turn him over to Pyrus, make him a gift and someone else's problem.
We're getting ahead of things.
_________________
Later on, in the Cathak Residence, Orchid expects to just take in the news; he's not sure just how much information Heaven has on Gem.
Of course, it takes only one actual event for Drake to knock Orchid off balance. He glances at Amelia - wouldn't she have known of rebellion on the horizon?... Or maybe her own flight was an early sign. But the loss of the food, and likely of Realm trade overall, could cripple Gem.
Of course, the Five-Metal Shrike could simply obliterate Gem, and so could the First and Forsaken Lion. Or... Well, the city had just gone from being rich to being a gamble.
Give me time to think. Gem may not be worth using, if we can find another city less absolutely doomed.
"I am aware of the legends surrounding the Five-Metal Shrike. An airship from the end of the First Age, no larger than a normal one, which was meant to cross Creation in a day and destroy cities with ease. So long as we ensure that Gem does not overtly worship the Primordials, though, I fear being at the center of an invasion by the dead far more. In fact, of all of those only the locust-men attack sounds like less than a city-ending disaster."
Orchid almost immediately seems to sink back in his seat, thinking furiously, once he's said his part. Resurfacing when Onyx Wind asks his own question...
"I... need to think. If you want me to answer that, I'd like to hear the rest of the prophecy, for context. If it's true, I count five potential disasters set to involve Gem."
The correct choice. Gather knowledge, offer none yet. Now, how did some seer manage to see a future involving the agents of Malfeas? If the locust-men appear in the same prophecy as Green Sun Princes, are they really going to be a normal threat? Are-
Hold. We can't even answer those questions yet. If I have to, would the right way to phrase it be 'Of the agents of Malfeas, only fifty are called Green Sun Princes'? If Heaven thinks we are weak, or even thinks they know enough, I don't like our chances, and Drake will certainly report this back, in time.
The best way to phrase it is silence. We do not need them, or Gem.
I disagree. Regardless, we need to be in Gem to repel the Underworld - to have another, yet more powerful Thorns is certainly against the wishes of all the Primordials, so that is its own reward.
"Context as to that line of the prophecy, or to the events surrounding it? For the latter, it was pronounced on Ingosh Silver Claw's deathbed. He was old, very old. One of the Last Lunars to have lived through the First Age, and he died 4 years ago. They say his old caste mark lit up, on of the lost caste marks.
As for the line, I'll have to think about it for a bit. That line in particular is the just about the last line in the prophecy. But here's what I know it said:
'Two Score and Ten is the number of the Green Sun Princes who break the world. May the Lady Save us all.' Then he died. I remember that you referred to yourselves as Green Sun Princes before, and that line's been debated for some time."
Orchid stares at the floor for a few moments.
"I would like to hear the prophecy as a whole, if you can repeat the important parts. Otherwise, I can't be sure what he was looking at."
"Are their other groups that it could be talking about? And, each line of the prophecy is pretty self contained, and seemed to range over all of creation."
Wing's face screws up in a slightly puzzled expression.
"I mean that he might not have known what counted as a Green Sun Prince and what did not. If that really is the only context... Yes, there is a way to count exactly fifty Green Sun Princes. I apologize for the evasiveness, but I don't entirely trust prophecies which extend outside Fate, and I'm still distracted trying to think of a way to deal with undead invasions. Especially when Gem is so easily laid siege to by those who don't need supplies, since even once the Lap is stabilized our best defense is that it's hard to get supplies here, especially for an army. Zombies don't follow those rules."
"I'd be skeptical as well, which is why I'd want to confirm those aspects that I can. Is their some other way to count that reveals different numbers? Or are their different groups called Green Sun Princes?"
Wing seems both puzzled, and a bit.... annoyed perhaps? He hadn't expected such evasiveness.
"It doesn't sound strange to me."
It's hard to understand just how a tall person like Raziel could be right there and nobody noticing, but this wasn't strange for him-he wasn't a very loud person when not speaking, and he never tried to intrude.
"There's fifty non-akuma Infernal Exalted, and we are usually called Green Sun Princes-or Queens, in the case of females who get sensitive about their gender-to distinguish us. Score is synonymous with 'twenty', you said 'two score and ten'..ergo, I think we're exactly what he was referring to."
Interesting. Let me see if I can get the whole thing down.
At this point Wing takes a step back, getting out a piece of paper and a pen. Starting to write, he stumbles slowly towards writing the entire prophecy. Some time later, he finishes, though there are many scratched out false starts along the way.
"Okay, let's see. 'The Fickly Lady shows me things, my friends. Terrible things.
A time of tummult for our kind.
I see an empty throne and a rotting mountain corpse. An ancient prison throws open it's doors, and a plague of locusts who walk like men descend on the land. The dead rise to become gods, and gods fall to become as the dead. A great fire erupts in the douth, greater than has ever been seen before.
Five Score is the number of the dead princes. Two score and ten is the number of the Green Sun Princes who break the world.
May the lady save us all'.
Now, I know the elders have decided what some parts mean, but others aren't as clear. I guess it simply reinforces your bad news, Drake."
"Dead princes....hmmm...."
Raziel thinks to himself for a bit, quietly telling his shoulder angels to silence themselves.
"...Wait. If we're the Green Sun Princes, and we're Solar derivatives, then that must mean they're Solar derivatives as well. And since the only other kind of Solar derivative is an Abyssal..."
The expression on his face would be priceless, if the subject wasn't so dire.
"Holy crap, there's one hundred of them. Oh...****."
Drake is listening to everything quietly and thoughtfully. "The prophecy of Ingosh Silverclaws... man" he mutters, more to himself than anything. No Sidereal actually knew the text of the prophecy - they just knew that the Lunar luminary had made a prophecy in his deathbed. He'd have to see Onyx would be willing to tell a bit more of it, later. But that's for later. Orchid's acting a wee bit suspicious.
He the speaks up. "Well, for the lap thing, most important is to convince the Despot to secure trade with other places. It'll be a bit more expensive, but I'm sure he'll agree when we mention we've caught wind of a conspiracy to cripple the Lap, and it should tide us over until order's back there enough that they're back to exporting - remember, their whole economy is purely based on it, they can't be without exports for very long.
As for the Shrike... gotta disagree, Orchid. You have legends, but I was able to check records, and let me tell you - we have no idea how in hell the Shrike does it, but soon as there's a big percentage of people worshipping Yozi, even if there's no big show of it, we suddenly find a few square kilometers of glass where a village or city used to be. It's a big part of why the usual Heavenly policy when it comes to Yozi cults around these places is "shoot on sight" - better to do it quickly even if you risk taking a couple people who didn't deserve it along the way, than a rogue Suncrusher coming and nuking the whole place from orbit because it's the only way to be sure" Drake sounds rather despaired about it all as well. "I don't think I could ask you two to be a bit conservative about it for now?"
"But yeah, biggest problem is the Lion. At least our intelligence tells us it's unlikely he'll come personally, because Deathlords are really loathe to leave shadowlands, but I'm betting he'll send a bunch of deathknights to murder our faces on top of a kajillion zombies. Gem as it is now has absolutely zero chance. If we want to save this city, we need to make moves to ready a decent defense, and fast. Filling the whole goddamn city with thaum barriers against the low level zombies would be a good start, and it's something I think I could swing if the Despot agrees, but we need more people capable of facing the big daddies. The six of us aren't going to cut it, we plain can't be everywhere. Man, we really could do with an Imperial fang of Dragonblooded or two, right now. I don't suppose there's any way you could pull a bit from your family, Pyrus..." he sighs, the question obviously rethorical. With the Realm civil war in the horizon, chances of that were slim.
Then, though, the conversation ges back to the prophecy, which makes him shut up and listen very carefully. Nazri would be interested in knowing about the famous prophecy of Ingosh Silverclaws. When he hears it, he nods, grim. "Yeah. Nobody was completely sure before, but after I met you guys, I kind of figured that Deathknights were also made by a similar process. And that means there's... one hundred and fifty Solars, one hundred deathknights, and fifty Green Sun Princes, then. All of them loose in the world. Well, that's just great" he sighs, scrunching his nose with his fingers.
I'm more worried by the "great fire in the South", though. I'm going to guess that's us if we don't do anything to stop it" he says, serious. "And we still have to deal with miss crazy psychobitch before anything else"
[Street]
Laurel walks slowly past, looking pleased with herself. Despite the distance to go, in just a few moments the Scourge is out of sight down the street.
[Alleyway]
Even through the stench of rubbish and junk littering the edges of the way, Amelia can smell a person or two is around. As she progresses further, she'll be able to see the flickering light of a cheap glowstone peeking through a crumbling wall, to hear low voices in some Realm dialect, and finally reach the cactus-studded hollow to the side of the street, where a pair of figures of varying familiarity are seated atop rocks. The glowstone casts a bit of light on a strange greenish scroll that Laurel appears to be reading from, to a young one she had last seen asking "Just us?" in the Lap, who listens attentively.
"Oh. She's here. Look." The scroll is rolled and placed in a bag at their feet, and she lifts a hand to point out the Lunar. "Welcome, welcome, Amelia dear! So glad you decided to drop by." Laurel waves to her, 'come closer' with a perfectly innocent smile.
[Outside]
A bit odd for this time of year, clouds begin to gather.
Pyrus wastes no time, heading for where the others were meeting. "Heads up, I just had a run-in with Laurel. And her body double is dead."
[Marketplace]
The dark sermon of a play is written and ready. The secluded corner of the empty market sets the stage. The lead actor is ready.
And the play is a masterpiece.
Raziel's every word rings perfect to the assembled crowd. Low shouts, cheers, and applause greet the first acts and speeches.
The more emotional among the listeners are deeply moved, from tears and regret to flickers of lypothymie, replaced by new hope and conviction as the speech moves on. If there were any doubts among the flock, they are dispelled, where there were interested poor there will soon be true fellow Stewards. Against such perfect rhetoric none would even wish to be opposed.
Further (and few would even bother to suspect a trick), there is the sign of infernal legitimacy manifesting behind the preacher as he draws to a close. The lights flare blue-green, and in the air, unasked for, blazing characters of Old Realm appear.
Spoiler
So Speaks KimberyFinally, the assembled cult is left bowed in awed silence. Clearly have they seen the truth and the way. They will not fail.
We Will Return
Slowly, the people on the edges of the circle divide and depart. They must not be found here, for the way must be made ready and the word must be spread. Others yet remain, to look upon the sign and their leader for a while.
[Orchid's, Previously]
"Good day, Master Orchid." He waves to the Infernal with a happy smile, and nods as he hears the release. "Then I shall just be around enough to keep up appearances. Thank you for your generosity, sir. Do try to keep the Dynast from going too far in the future..."
He bows deeply and backs out the door.
One problem temporarily solved.
Listening to Drake's thoughts, Onyx's unease only grows.
"Uh, Drake? You do remember that, excepting Pryus, no one else in the group is going to get a warm reception from Realm forces. And in the kind of battle that this seems to be heading towards, we'll surely end up revealing ourselves. If it doesn't end up happening sooner.
As for assistance...I think I could maybe get some support from the Silver Pact. It wouldn't be easy, though. There are quite a few lunars in the south, and some could be persuaded to help, probably need some concessions, though. Never mind what would happen if I could get the Elders to really help. But, that would be very difficult. Probably have to give concessions, and prove that the events would be dangerous to them as well. But doing it would also be dangerous for us: we'd owe them, and I'd probably have to go through Tamuz.
I agree, though, about getting those barriers against undead up. No reason not to be prepared, and it likely won't be a difficult sell. I don't think we should forget about the locust men, though. If they start encroaching into the area, I think we should try and contact them. Figure out just who, or what, they are, and what they want. I don't like not knowing anything about what appears to be a huge threat. "
Pausing he considers something, then decides to continue on.
I guess our first goal is dealing with Laurel. Perhaps her dou-
At this point, Pyrus joins the discussion, bringing his news.
What? What happened?
Onyx's voice is clearly tinged with worry.
"I knew I did more around here than look pretty."Quote:
Listening to Drake's thoughts, Onyx's unease only grows.
"[COLOR="SlateGray"]Uh, Drake? You do remember that, excepting Pryus, no one else in the group is going to get a warm reception from Realm forces. And in the kind of battle that this seems to be heading towards, we'll surely end up revealing ourselves. If it doesn't end up happening sooner.
"Laurel showed up, bragged a little, and her body double melted. Apparently they keep humans in Malfeas."Quote:
What? What happened?
Onyx's voice is clearly tinged with worry.
Smashing his fist in his hand, Onyx gives a minor, if fervent curse.
Dammit. Sorry, Orchid, but Laurel really needs to die. Can't say I'm surprised about keeping humans in Malfeas; demons are spirits, so prayer from cults would certainly be liked.
A pause, and he looks out a window at the sky.
Odd. Why's a storm brewing at this time of year?
[Marketplace]
...Well.
That was unexpected. There was really nothing more to say. So Raziel didn't-he simply answered a few doctrinal questions that were among the most generic he had ever heard. Apparently when one has a giant sign saying "REAL PROPHET, NOT KIDDING" having materialized behind oneself, one isn't going to have to face questions about his legitimacy.
The day flowed smoothly from approximately that point on (at least until he got to the Cathak residence)-he simply lead the recruits to the complex entrance, called for Kendik, and let him lead them. Unlike Earth, it seemed, Creation fully understood the concept of the holy man having previous appointments.
Oh yes, and the cult now had half again it's current membership. That was always something that stroked his Urge. So, when the young Malefactor went to the Cathak estates, his mood was light and cheerful.
That didn't last, unfortunately...
[Present]
"Hmm....
"Charms...is there any Charms I know of that can cause a storm..."
SpoilerIntelligence + Occult...I think.
[roll0]
Spoiler[OOC] GAH! STUPID!
[roll0]
[Cathak Pyrus Residence]
Raziel recalls basics: that many among the elementals can call up weather, as can the gods overseeing the weather and powerful sorcerers. As for charms among the Chosen, he can't bring any to mind that distort the weather, though it would not be strange to be within the powers of Dragonblooded, or the Infernals belonging to Kimbery, Adorjan, or Hegra.
[Alleyway]
This Laurel turns to the Laplander child and smiles. "That is why. Always remember. .... Go on now. We trust you. It's time to move on." To their credit? they seem a bit unsure, but then, this is Amelia who helped them escape to freedom.
"Honestly, Onyx, once the Deathlords got involved, our chances of remaining covert were slim already. "Gem survives attack by the First and Forsaken Lion" is going to be assumed to be "Gem has so many Exalts I don't even know" by a lot of people. And I'd say a couple Houses with investments in Gem would be willing to overlook a couple Anathema in exchange for, y'know, saving the town... and there's Sidereals among them, most likely. I'd have to hide you guys" he says, pointing to the Infernals "but temporary alliances with and/or patsying Lunars is not unusual, so long as I don't actually say I'm genuinely working with you guys it would not look particularly odd. Still, Pyrus, if you think you could move a couple strings a bit more legitimately instead to get us some troops or something, it'd be welcome... because well, you just joined the conversation and probably only heard the last of it, but the upshot is that forecast for Gem is "multiple sieges with high probability of getting ****ed up the ass" -" he interrupts himself as Pyrus delivers his own news.
On hearing, Drake's expression hardens "Yeah. Onyx's right. Laurel's far overstayed any kind of chance we could give her. There's only so long one can try to be merciful to a murderous psycho. Question is finding her. She seems to be really good at giving people the slip, and she always finds us in the middle of the street, where we can't exactly go all-out. We're probably going to have to make a trap of our own instead of pursuing" he says, serious.
Raziel's question surprises him a bit though. He'd honestly been so preoccupied he hadn't noticed the clouds. "...yeah, the guys at the Weather department didn't mention anything about storms in Gem. If you want to check if it's caused by an effect outside of Fate - that is, Laurel or some other Prince like you guys - or a god mucking stuff up, I could always see about putting a message. I have a few friends in Weather" And how localized it is, of course. Because this could be either a big storm or a small one, and the implications are different for either...
...Well, that was frightening
"Laurel is a child of the Ebon Dragon and Adorjan, isn't she? I think storm-creation is quite possibly a skill of the Silent Wind, so of course it's possible she's decided to run and cover her tracks.
"Elementals aren't possible if this is a Prince-Gaian manipulation was banned to warlocks by the nature that we draw power from other Primordials.
"Orchid, do you know of any Charms that Adorjan could use to conjure a storm? Barring that, Hegra?"
[Alleyway]
Amelia glances around the alleyway, a last check for any obvious traps. "Emile?" She hasn't seen the boy since the Lap, and even if the boy before her was the right age he had grown so much, but...that was exactly how he sat, when he listened to her stories.
The Lunar starts toward her charge. He looks nervous, and that could be survivor's guilt (Please, no.), or it could be any number of things, but he is alive; at least he is alive--
Amelia comes up two steps short of them. Laurel made copies of herself, 'Emile' could be a copy. Or he could be tricked into thinking any number of things, like that Amelia wants to hurt him--she is Anathema. "Emile. This is...not a woman I would trust freely. Are you alright?"
[Alleyway]
The boy shivers, nods, and steps forward. "I'm fine. We can trust her. She said we can trust you even though you're...um...one of the Illuminated. Right Nike?"
"Yes, silly boy. Don't put so much stock in old stories." Laurel answers with affirmation. Amelia may not be the sametraitor to the Realmvaliant young hero she was before, but that's no reason to be suspicious.
Emile tries to be calmer (excitement as well making that difficult), and takes a step counterclockwise, to be beside the line of the two Exalts.
"When I found that you of all people were the one to help our Emile get free and come here, I just had to arrange a meeting. May your new free lives be interesting and successful."
"Now, what else...?"
"If you need any help, just ask. No the others haven't turned up. And no, this isn't part of my plan; we just wanted to help. I'm no good at valedictions, but we'll see you both again, I'm sure."
"Wait. You are still looking for them, right? Surely you are..."
"I reunite you two, you don't send that pretty dragonling and the preacher to murder the rest of the family, and everybody is happy. Sound like a deal?"
Laurel grins at the Lunar and offers a hand to shake on the agreement.
Spoiler
If you shake the Infernal's hand, open the following spoiler:
SpoilerAlong with a friendly handshake, you feel a presence in your mind, a wave of pressure and heat as the essence of the Silent Wind whips through your thoughts, quelling distractions and beliefs that you might, momentarily, perceive the true nature of reality. The cost is high, and the vision harsh; many would not wish to see. Are you among them?
Please make an Essence+Willpower roll.
You are opposing this: [roll0]
If you hesitate or do not, open this spoiler instead:
SpoilerLaurel steps back swiftly and snatches up her bag, looking truly hurt.
"You disappoint me. But I suppose you can not be blamed for misunderstanding. Go."
"Emile, I think you can trust her too. Do not worry."
Mysterious roll: [roll1] +1 success.
[Not-Actually-Meanwhile, Back at the Cathak Residence]
"....."
After talking to Orchid, it was quite clear that Raziel was not particularly cheered with the revelation of all the different ways a storm could be made.
"All right-vitriol elementals are thrown right out, too colorful for the clouds we're seeing. I don't think Laurel has Hegra Charms, and by what I have heard, she's the only other Prince here. Won't rule out an akuma though, I heard Lypothimie was looking for one.
"Most likely, however, is a radaken, or Zsofiska. Pray for the first, because I don't think any of us have Second Circle Banishment, and uh, she's literally always faster than you are."
Amelia pauses a moment, as she hardly feels she can make the choice for the entire group, and Laurel speaks before she can explain her reasons. "You disappoint me. But I suppose you can not be blamed for misunderstanding." Since Amelia is not even entirely sure what she's supposed to be (mis)understanding, she feels that it is probably a reasonable view of the situation. "Emile, I think you can trust her too. Do not worry."
"Um. Good. If you see any of the others, please let me know," Amelia adds as politely as she can.
[Earlier]
"Of course. I'll be sure to tell you, first thing. Don't come looking for us, my dears. We'll be gone from the Chapel by tomorrow. But if you need us, we'll be there."
A sudden gust of wind whips around the empty space, tossing dust and detritus around in little whirls, and as it passes the three Laurel dissolves into a cloud of red dust, borne away as the wind completes its circle and leaves the lot.
The last few streams of disturbed air flow not into the street, but to Amelia's mind, to grind away the mental blocks and let her see, from another view, why she should be willing to speak for the group and help the Scourge out.
SpoilerUnnatural Mental Influence to form a positive intimacy(context of love) towards Laurel. Costs 2 Willpower to avoid, as I presume she will.
[Later, at the Pyrus Residence]
The Exalted are gathered, discussing what could be causing this unseasonable gathering of clouds, with the appearance of a frightful storm. Not unexpectedly, the minds of the Infernals jump first to Infernal magic.
Amelia had just arrived back, with no time even to explain her meeting (or, if Emile is with her, who this kid is).
When.
Suddenly.
A loud and repeated knock rings out from the front door. A few bits of weakly shouted voice distantly carry in. "Hey! Open --- ----. Out of---- but ---- -----. ----- ---- help!"
The light coming in the windows has dimmed noticeably from all sides.
Hearing the disturbance, Wing gets up to check it out. The darkness is odd enough, but the yelling too...Something's up. Probably with Laurel.
"Hey! Have you never seen a slasher movie in your life? Don't just throw the door open."
"Sad, but true."
"...Got any water? I need it to manifest my tentacles."
This is Gem. But Pyrus has money and resources; there should be a few supplies of water around the house for drinking and cleaning.
On the other side of the door, leaning weakly on their grimscythe, is a gaunt figure in dark robes, face hidden, skin pale, instantly recognizable: the grim reaper. A few drops of blood fall from the black circle mark darkly glowing within the shadows of their hood. Something in Wing twists sympathetically at seeing this poor creature, this wrongness.
"Thanks." Their voice is light, almost musical, even though clearly exhausted. "This was the place I Saw. Good. You will help, right? They won't mind. There are great and terrible things in your future. They've shown me. So they won't..."
They trail off, taking a moment to stand fully upright and lift the twisting moonsilver scythe. "They'll catch up soon. You'll help? You'll help." She points weakly down the road. There's nothing there, but you can faintly hear an echoing howl down the conspicuously empty tunnel-road.
Pyrus stares for a moment. "Yeah...we'll help."
"What? What showed you? And what's after you?"
Despite his original intention to stay back, Wing takes a step out, trying to get a better look down the street.
"For the record, I realize this is probably a trap for us" he says, looking at the grim reaper figure with a certain stern-ness as he runs past and steps with Wing, taking his hands to his pockets and taking them out equipped in his starmetal gauntlets. "But yeah, we are going to fall in anyway just in the chance it isn't" he adds, with a slightly amused, if nervous, smile.
He looks to either side of the street, attentive, for any signs of anything happening...