A Dream of Quiet (IC)

[Recaiden]

Unyielding Fury of Righteousness. The only Red Jade Royal Warstrider ever (known to have been) constructed. And to this day, never piloted. Four hundred odd years ago, it was sealed up and carried away to Arjuf, where it has languished in a forgotten wing of the Empress's palace. The place is well kept up, in case the Empress should return, but no one dares to actually claim the estate. It's an easy place to get to, there are always traders heading to Arjuf, but the palace is another matter.

---

1

The two cases being highly unequal, but all the same to the Tomescu, it nods, thinking on that suggestion, and scurries back to its post.

The chalcothete, is, well, was, a large lobster, maybe two feet long, made of tarnished brass. Its shell is horribly crushed, and the dim light of its eyes long since extinguished. Familiars to the aquatic demjen, it must have hated being here, unless it has some secret underwater hide. It's possible that it was here innocently; chalcothetes love exploring (usually underwater, but such places are clearly in short supply around here).

---

1

"You don't understand the machine. I'm pretty good at making stuff, and I have no idea how to anything about it. Wave is a genius, and she can barely keep it running as it is. And the Black Dawn and Ma-Ha-Suchi aren't going to help us and we can't get anywhere else without the Shore that Nazri took!" The voice mounts in anger and frustration as she goes along.
And that's sort of a location. The Goblin King of Rathess, and the Wolf with the Red Roses. They're somewhere along the eastern Vaniwayan River.

"You aren't exactly a paragon of trustworthiness yourself."

[Drascin]

"Ma-Ha-Suchi" Drake says in the inflectionless flat tone of the professional who is seriously considering the sanity of his interlocutor. "Ma-Ha-Suchi is involved in this. So if I'm understanding this right, the monster whose name an entire direction alternates between whispering in terror and cursing to the fires of Hell knows about this. And doesn't particularly want it done.

Lady, getting me into that is going to cost you some damn big incentives beyond the permission into Heaven thing. There's other ways to get in there and the Monster of the East is not the kind of guy I want to be even in the peripheral awareness of. I'm sure you understand."

So near the Wolf's territory? Hm. That's definitely not very close, but might be doable. In the meantime, let's see if he can gauge these people's capabilities a bit. This person sounds like they definitely need some outside help, so if she's being truthful how much are they willing to offer should be a decent clue to some of their capabilities - and if she's not, it might get her to slip up a bit.

"And I'm plenty trustworthy, lady. Not fulfilling one's word is bad for business. Just very picky about who knows about me and what jobs I take. You already know more about me than I should have let slip to a mystery person who might well be a goddamn Fae for all I know, with me being stupidly frustrated before."

Which is perfectly true, of course, but still, saying it is more a bit of buffin up his interlocutor so she feels she has the upper hand in the conversation.

[Leliel]

Still worth looking into.

First, the cultists and the demons: "My brothers, did you see anything like this chalchothete hanging around while I was away?"

[Recaiden]

"Yeah. He's just been entirely unreasonable. We offered to restore his body, but apparently you raid someone's lair, free their slaves, and sacrifice their family to the Unconquered Sun one time and suddenly they consider you a mortal enemy." Humans can be so silly. Especially chimerics.

"Let's see. More than a ticket into Heaven. Well, I have a feeling you don't need unfathomable riches. And if you don't know Nazri, that's all out. Wonders of the Lost Age of man? The name of the wind? The satisfaction of doing a good deed? Um..."

The voice rises with suspicion.
"Goddamn fae, huh? I don't know whether to be offended or amused. Just what could be offered to someone of your...trustworthiness?"

---

1

Only this one, Raziel finds out. That and one other, shortly thereafter. But they can't be sure that's what it was.

[Rhyvurg]

Pyrus leaves instructions for his servants, orders with his soldiers, and tells those of his allies who live with him where he will be going. Leaving his beloved bike behind, as he cannot guarantee he will be able to retrieve it, he joins a caravan heading to the Lap. from there, he'll make his way to Arjuf, where his prize awaits.

[Drascin]

Well well. That's illuminating. If she's telling the truth, of course. Which he has no way of knowing. Man, is this how Sidereal elders feel all the time? That has to be horrible.

He manages to repress the "Gee, I can't fathom why" he'd like to give the first comment. He'd never have thought he'd feel a pang of understanding for Ma-Ha-Suchi of all people, and he just did.

"Hm. Well, riches are never unwelcome, but for something that sounds like this, money probably ain't gonna suffice, yeah" After all, if he's playing the mercenary agent, seeing how much he can extort of people is only logical, and important for believability. "Though... now that you mention that guy again... you did say he was a guy much more powerful than you are and still you managed to remove him? Because I might be interested in knowing how you did it. I do know a couple people that fit the description of "pain in the neck too powerful to just stab in the same" all too well, that would make my life so much simpler if they were... taken out of the picture. Fair warning, though, one's a ****ing Anathema - never let it be said I don't tell the contractor what he's buying. But if you could give me a way to deal with them that doesn't end with me six feet in the ground?

Yeah, for that I'd risk this here might-be-honeytrap"

[Leliel]

Hrrmmm.

Still frightening. Even if this was an unlucky robo-lobster, that would still imply their creator was around.

Sort of like the one he was sure was in Laurel's employ.

Agh. Not knowing was not fun. Not fun at all.

[Recaiden]

The road goes on. The caravan Pyrus joined up with just delivered a load of food and cloths, and is returning with a load of spices and gems. The caravan is glad for the protection such an obvious Dragonblood provides. Even the Dune People would be hesitant to attack if they knew. It's well known the dragonblooded aren't human, after all.

He would find the Lap...tense, to say the least. Not once does he hear a Laplander speak well of the Empress. Discontent is open, Legion auxiliary presence, nonexistent. Far more people are heading up and down the Penitent than is usual. And once, he's sure he saw a familiar face. That smith, the one with all the plans for a network of magitech and...no. He's lost in the crowd.

The Inland Sea is calm and perfect. It's always calm and perfect leaving the Lap. The water gets a bit choppier as they enter the sea proper, then calms again as they sail into the waters of the Dominion. They draw in finally as a happy, bustling dock. Almost immediately there are calls of people trying to sell something. Fruit, silk cloths, candied locusts, abandoned warehouse crates. Welcome to Arjuf.

---

1

"So we did. It took illusions, mazes, ways, magic weapons and a lot of work, but it should be...repeatable. A lot more difficult to ready than a trip to Yu-Shan. Passage is one, two steps. The trap itself is quite involved. Nine such steps and at least a fortnight to prepare, more depending on the details...But I think we can work something out. Tell me more about these ...people who need removing. You hear a few words spoken aside in that harsh, frightening language before the transmission ends.

---

1

One could surmise that it is even less fun for someone who knows only that one of their chalcothetes went out and never returned.

[Drascin]

As he listens, Drake makes a point to memorize phonetically the words being barked on the other side. He never expected his skill to memorize entire songs in foreign languages he doesn't understand would ever come in handy, but live and learn, he guesses.

"Well, no hurries, really. It's going to take me a while to find you someone who can repair your machine and bring it to you, anyway if I accept the job. People who can repair magical machines don't grow on trees, you know"

"As for the people in question..." well, he has to give at least one of them for believability. A split second is enough to make his decision as to who he's going to mention. "The main one and the biggest problem is this woman. Full Anathema, pact with demons, the whole hog. Heard of the Silent Wind? The crazy ***** actually made some sort of pact with it and got some of its powers for it. She can do things like split into multiple people and turn people to ****ing stone with a touch, and she's slippery as all hells and very good at getting into places she shouldn't be". Drake has decided to give Laurel's contact information, so to speak, in case this person actually has some sorcerous way to recover information from wherever she's trapped. Making something up runs the risk of tripping any detection, and if this person actually can prepare some sort of trap to catch someone like that or she's overzealous and tries to "pay in advance"... well, better Laurel than someone that would be missed, if nothing else.

(And yes, Drake is basically flying by the seat of his pants and hoping for the best by now, in case it wasn't obvious )

"If that sounds like something you can take care of, then I'm in. You're gonna need to tell me more about just what exactly you're needing to fix and where do I have to bring whoever I manage to get my hands on, though"

[Recaiden]

"I know. We've tried that, but it only ended with a crop of self-building clockwork. The best we ever got at harvest-time is little jade-fruits, and they're not remotely the same." They can't be serious.

At the other end, there's a sharp breath drawn in. "The Silent Wind? As in Adorjan the Scourge, 'No map can hold my trail and no door can bar my passing', kinds of wind? You sure know how to make enemies."

It's quiet then, and finally they get back with more information. "The splitting into multiple people thing might cause a problem, but we'll see what we can do. The thing we need fixed is, well, you know the Jade Obelisks that hold back the Wyld? This thing is a whole Reality Engine, that shapes chaos into Creation. Except, it's broken down and running kind of in reverse, causing Wyld storms. It's a little hard to get out of here, but if you can get them to the headwaters of the Vaniwayan river, we should be able to bring them in safely."

[Rhyvurg]

First stop was the local Cathak estate, to check in with the family. But much more important was seeing what young, foolishly reckless Dragonbloods were in the city. Kids just out of school eager for some action. This trip to Arjuf would probably be his last, he would most likely be branded a traitor for this. But only half on him had any loyalty to the Empire, the other, Earthly half detested everything about them.

[Drascin]

"I'm going to assume you're winding me up there" Drake says deadpanly.

"You have no idea, lady. When you get into the mercenary line of work, you expect to make a few enemies. But someone crazy enough to deal with the freaking Silent Wind wasn't in the plans."

The next part, though, he listens silently and intently, thoughtful. "Yeah, I know the obelisks. If you get lost in the Marches, try to find one ASAP, is pretty common knowledge in the Threshold. Can't say I've heard of reality engines, though, but if it can make Wyld Storms I'm guessing this is pretty big mojo.

I don't know how long it'll take to find you someone who can work that, but I'll see what I can do. Try to keep this thing out of the way of essence currents and such to make sure it doesn't scramble again to someone else's, and I'll contact you again when I have something"

[Recaiden]

[Arjuf]

A household where Pyrus is warmly welcomed, both figuratively and literally. His distant cousin, Cathak Tukera, is there, just having returned from finishing her chronicle of the Bull of the North. There's a pair of Iselsi mercanitilists who'e been causing havoc at the docks. And of course, there's the fourth legion HQ, which is brimming with hotheaded military arguments (they're planning something big, have even brought out one of the manta airships).

At the edge of the city of trade, the Empress's palace stands outwardly maintained, but untouched. No one dares.

---

1

[Scarabs]

"Yes. The clockwork couldn't really build itself. That takes Spark, and it honestly doesn't grow on trees. As a crop, that is. You find it in trees all the time."

"Well, it could be worse. We'll see what we can do about her. And yes, we'e keeping it as safe as can be. Thanks, Drake. Don't be a stranger."

[Rhyvurg]

Pyrus spends his money generously, gifts for his cousin and rounds of drinks for the legionaries. He also tours the dockside taverns, asking about those merchants. Stealing a warstrider was no walk in the park, it would help to have some unwitting stooges to distract the guards.

[Drascin]

"Stay alive" Drake says by way of goodbye, before cutting communication. Then he turns on his detection charms to make absolutely sure nothing is looking at him and the mystical effect from the communication scarab is absolutely and completely gone, that there are no sorcery sensors nearby, and there aren't even desert fennecs looking at him.

And only then he drops the scarab to the ground and the role from his face, and literally lets himself fall forward face first on the hot sand with a *fluff* sound, letting himself finally relieve all the tension he'd been feeling for the last five minutes.

I. ****ing. Hate. My. Life.

Nazri is out, don't know if missing or dead. And I just made a deal with what I'm pretty sure are either fae or Lunars, either of which have a nonzero chance of trying to kill me on sight on the basis of my Exaltation. And there's the fact that one of them actually knew my name...

...oh ****dammit. Well of course she knew his name. He was trying to limit information but he mentioned it first thing before he could get on his guard and didn't realize until now reviewing the conversation in his head. Damn it damn it damn it.

On the plus side, that should help with making her think I'm a fool - mostly because I very goddamn well am he thinks to himself, frustrated. Honestly, he could almost cry, He thought he'd earned himself some thanks, or at least a week of rest. But instead not five hours after getting back to Gem he's in another crisis from which the lives of people might possibly depend, including the closest thing he's had to a reasonable mentor in years. It's not fair.

But then, Sidereals don't get fair. It's his fault for making himself hopes. But he's starting to understand why only *******s seem to live long in the Bureau.

He lays there for a while, lacking energy to even move even as a little desert spider walks over him like he was a soft rock. What to do now? He had intended to rest, train, make plans on a few things - but there is no real time for that now. He has to pull himself together and do something. No time for crying.

Okay. First note, try to contact Nazri. Thankfully there are some ways available to a Sidereal willing to put in some effort to communicate in ways that are rather hard to stop, though he doesn't know the particulars himself... yet. Time to hit the astrology books.

Wait, no, first, make sure that he doesn't get traced through the scarab while he goes home. He knows about sympathetic magic and arcane links and is too paranoid to ever be at ease with that thing now. And if they happen to try to trace it and it pings he's in Yu-shan the entire jig is up. Back to Gem it is, to hide it, and then another long walk back. At least by the time he sets off again it'll be Night and he won't be dying of heat anymore.

(Letting a pause here in case anything happens in the several hours of walking)

[Recaiden]

[Arjuf]

He might be up to something, but then, he might just be Pyrus. His cousin is talkative, mostly on the subject of the north's technology and how different factions of anathema are busily killing each other. House Tepet is claiming credit for finally killing the Bull of the North, as he might have heard already, but she's got 'evidence' that he's actually alive in a floating castle in the northern Wyld, rebuilding his armies.

The Legion is gathering to be on watch for the worsening situation in the Lap. Most of them seem pretty confident, enjoying their leave from HQ, but a few are visibly afraid of....something.

The merchants, well, the principal thing is that they have offered to buy the Arjuf Dominion, and the governor might be considering it. What's more, the amount being offered, which hasn't been disproved by any clerks, rivals the total estimated fortune of the entire house. They've bought up just about every cargo that comes into or is trying to leave the port, and somehow it's getting to its destination without leaving on any visible ships or caravans. The guild fronts and unassociated traders are up in arms. It would not be difficult to stir up some sort of scene at the docks or caravanserais or a public monument.

[Drake]

It's on his way back, in the relative cool of the night, that something unusual happens. There really shouldn't be a sandstorm at this hour, in this still cool. But there it is, a wall of dust and sand sweeping down towards him from the mountains. Well, that's tedious, if not terribly harmful.

If Drake carries on, the wind and storm are soon around him, stinging, cutting visibility, tugging on his hat, and generally being a nuisance. But a while in, he sees something; traces of light, pure white and blood red and vine green, dashing about in the winds.

[Drascin]

Drake's eyes narrow as he tries to make out any shape in the storm. Yeah, he's read enough fantasy novels to catch when a storm is about as natural as a bodybuilder's physique.

Taking off the garish cloak and coiling it around his face to minimize the cuts from the sand, he tries to continue, paying now very careful attention to the sounds coming from his Telltale Symphony and turning Prior Warning on. If something magical comes nearby, or if this effect is some present from the mystery voice he wants to be able to spot it - and what the hell it is.

[Rhyvurg]

[Arjuf]

He might be up to something, but then, he might just be Pyrus. His cousin is talkative, mostly on the subject of the north's technology and how different factions of anathema are busily killing each other. House Tepet is claiming credit for finally killing the Bull of the North, as he might have heard already, but she's got 'evidence' that he's actually alive in a floating castle in the northern Wyld, rebuilding his armies.

"The Bull's threat has always been his armies, this is true. But what evidence is this? Let the Tepets bluster, their mounting failures with the Bull will bury them."

The Legion is gathering to be on watch for the worsening situation in the Lap. Most of them seem pretty confident, enjoying their leave from HQ, but a few are visibly afraid of....something.

"The Lap has no power to fear, friends. They're farmers, not soldiers. I have been in the Lap not long ago, it is a pacified place. They pray for help but do nothing. What you boys need is some action, something to take your mind off things."

The merchants, well, the principal thing is that they have offered to buy the Arjuf Dominion, and the governor might be considering it. What's more, the amount being offered, which hasn't been disproved by any clerks, rivals the total estimated fortune of the entire house. They've bought up just about every cargo that comes into or is trying to leave the port, and somehow it's getting to its destination without leaving on any visible ships or caravans. The guild fronts and unassociated traders are up in arms. It would not be difficult to stir up some sort of scene at the docks or caravanserais or a public monument.

Excellent, the province is full of firedust kegs just waiting for a spark. And Pyrus was good at striking sparks. He needed two things. He needed a way in, and he needed something to keep the local authorities busy as he made his escape. And it looks like both will be easy to come by.

[Scarlet Dragon]

After a hard days training session Dancer bids his pupil farewell and goes off into the night... to hunt.

And what better place to hunt Fae than in the desert where they abound? Tonight has been fortunate to him as he has recently picked up the scent of a small group of Raksha. This band has led him on a merry chase and delved into an approaching sandstorm in the hopes of losing their stalker. They underestimate their opponent, and shortly his prey is within reach with increasingly less chances of their escape.

[Recaiden]

[Sand]

Warning. Something's coming.

The magical soundscape is quiet, a low hiss. Too quiet; an Infernal is here somewhere. As for seeing the shapes, no. Only stinging dust.

Suddenly new sounds appear, one after the other, coming closer. The mad black music of the Wyld. Just behind them, a clear bright tone. It's Shadow Dancer, combat and movement charms ready.

[City]

"The Bull's threat has always been his armies, this is true. But what evidence is this? Let the Tepets bluster, their mounting failures with the Bull will bury them."

"The only problem with it is an unreliable source. Thaumic wards against an individual, Kaneko, made after 'his death' and with some of their energy actually spent on holding. Recovered from the slopes of Mount Kadathe by one of the Lunar Anathema." A shrug. "His armies did suffer a defeat at Red Ice Field. House Tepet had one whole member present, but someone's succeeding where they ought to."

"The Lap has no power to fear, friends. They're farmers, not soldiers. I have been in the Lap not long ago, it is a pacified place. They pray for help but do nothing. What you boys need is some action, something to take your mind off things."

"Yeah, if only. Finally something interesting's happening in the city, and nothing to do with us." Pyrus's report on the Lap is mostly well received, save one guy still shaking his head. Pyrus was there and he doesn't understand? He must not have seen.

Excellent, the province is full of firedust kegs just waiting for a spark. And Pyrus was good at striking sparks. He needed two things. He needed a way in, and he needed something to keep the local authorities busy as he made his escape. And it looks like both will be easy to come by.

Boom!

[Drascin]

Now, the Appropriate Sidereal Course here would be to Avoidance Kata the hell out of dodge and run while everyone is still trying to find him. Sidereals are not supposed to stand and fight.

But right now, honestly, Drake is exhausted and annoyed and already kind of itching to hit something over the unfairness of life. So, you know what, **** subtlety. He puts his hands in his pockets to put on his smashfists, but doesn't quite take them out yet, eyes closed to perceive with his essence senses rather than his eyes, and setting up Defense of Shining Joy, his mental soundtrack starting to hum around him.

"Now, see, I know you're there" he calls out at the Infernal presence. "What I don't know is whether you're here to kill me or not. You have five seconds to speak or I will assume the former"

[Recaiden]

Drake doesn't hear a response. But there it is all the same.

Spoiler

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"I won't kill you. I am driving and hunting monsters and wyld things."

They say it with some joking deliberation. They wont *kill* you, but since you're already ready for a fight...

[Drascin]

"Any chance you'll just let me through, then? I'm in kind of a hurry, here"

Yeah, that's going to work. Still, Drake's basic morals require him to at least try.

[Recaiden]

-That isn't any fun- A loose spiral of wind and silence starts tightening around Drake. -What's the rush?-

[Drascin]

And there's the confirmation he expected but was dreading to hear.

"Well I'm right ****ed aren't I" he says outloud, following the spiral very carefully, waiting for the attack. As he does so, though, he calls out in a shout "Dancer! Can you hear me?"

[Recaiden]

-You brought a friend, Drake?-

The spiral runs in closer and closer and then, suddenly, stops just before him in a burst of light. When it clears, he sees, standing before him, himself, hands in pockets, eyes closed, pained expression on his face. Drake speaks aloud. "Yeah I really am ***ed aren't I?"

[Scarlet Dragon]

Hearing Drakes shout reverberate through the ground Dancer growls low in slight frustration. Looks like I'm going to have to cut my hunt short. Tensing his muscles he leaps out of the sand dune next to the group of Rakshas straight into the nearest one and takes it with him for the rest of his jump and even farther through the sheer strength of his blow.

After securing at least one kill Dancer turns towards Drakes location, and shouts "I hear." Throwing one last meaningful glance back towards the other Raksha he sighs and takes monumental leaps towards Drake.

Spoiler

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(14d10)[6][7][3][2][2][10][7][10][2][8][8][5][4][6](80) Accuracy roll

[Drascin]

Well, THAT was unexpected.

"So wait, you're a Yozi deathknight with the powers of Adorjan at your command and to fight you decide to instead turn into me?

...well, not going to complain about small mercies" He then looks at Dancer.

"Hey. Good timing. I kinda have a known murderer trying to beat the **** out of me and wear my skin here. A bit of help would be really appreciated"

[Recaiden]

The hobgoblin turns, hearing something in the confusion. It must be there. The creature readies itself for an attack, one last stand here, when the witch-monster crashes into him from behind. It tumbles over and over, its gossamer shell collapsing into flames, and is gone like a forgotten dream. It has no air to cry out, but the others hear the attack and scatter. It's every story for itself!

---

1

"Wait. Your plan for fighting is not to use your demon sandstorm powers but to turn into me and to pretend to be the real one?"

He turns to the recently jumped-in Lunar. "Good timing, Dancer I'd appreciate you not falling for his obvious trick."

[Drascin]

"...you. Are seriously. Doing this.

Like, you honestly have the balls to go for the biggest cliche in the goddamn ****ing universe."

Drake sounds out and out incredulous. He doesn't know whether to laugh or facepalm. He thought this might happen but he kind of expected Laurel to have more class than that, crazy or not.

In the end he opts for both, and facepalms while chuckling. "God in heaven. My life is a bad fantasy novel.

Good idea doing it in front of the only member of the team who probably can't identify who the right one is immediately, by the by. Props for that, at least. Question though, is... does that effect of yours give you my memories? Why don't you tell Dancer here what we've been doing for the last days? He was there with me" Drake grins, somewhat nastily. This is of course a double question. If she can't answer well, Dancer will tell. If she can... that means she has his memories, which means he's compromised, which means Laurel has to die. And if she tries to deflect it she looks more suspicious than he does.