Day After Ragnarok - Guo Zai

[Hack Writer]

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Azahul, this thread should keep your character ticking over until we can get him to the main party. The set-up for the scene is simple; Guo Zai and his master - the Tibetan monk, Choden - are currently working on deciphering the meaning of the ancient mystical scrolls unearthed by the Nazis. You're in Choden's study room, where the pair of you have spent most of your time since arriving here. Choden, being the main academic of the pair of you - studies the scrolls whilst you run minor errands for him. Here's the opening scene:

The desiccated surface of the sere brown papyrus cracks like dry autumn leaves beneath the delicate ministrations of the old Lama’s spider-like alabaster finger. Nodding approvingly, master Choden shifts his wizened frame in his seat towards you; his rheumy eyes alight with the lustre of fresh discovery. “See now, my child, a repeat of the same semantic structure as before. This pictograph here, you will remember,” he taps his index finger on the page for emphasis, “denotes both a beginning and an ending, whilst this one,” he taps a second pictographic symbol, “signifies transcendence, of the spiritual and the corporeal. In terms of linguistic meaning and syntax, these writings are not unlike the work of the ancient Naxi peoples, though immensely more complex and subtle in form and application.”

You can’t help but note a slight out-spill of scholarly pride in the humble aesthete’s face as he narrates the details of his latest revelation to you. Master Choden is old and frail, as delicate and desiccated as the fragments of papyrus on the table before him; humble, too, he is rarely so crass as to indulge in moments of personal vanity, though something about his latest achievement has ignited a fire in his scholar’s soul – you can tell. “This script was clearly penned by the hand of a powerful member of their hieratic caste – a priest, a bureaucrat, an official. The use of twenty different classes of pictograph would require a student of such a language many lifetimes to fully master!” he catches himself, perhaps aware that his effusiveness for his achievements has been noticed. Then he smiles mischievously, his rheumy eyes sparkling. “But I see that this old goat bores you with his incessant prattling! Ha, no matter, I forget myself sometimes -” a sudden, terrible hacking cough overcomes him, cutting his words short. The old Lama doubles over in pain, his frail body shaking.

You move to assist him, having spent long enough in his company to appreciate the severity of his sporadic bouts of coughing, but Choden shoos you away gently, waving instead to a small metal urn seated atop a butane gas canister in one corner of the room, and from which snakes languid vapours of sweet-scented tea. “No, no, I am fine. But please, Guo Zai, some of my tea, if you would be so kind.”

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right, react as you feel Guo Zai would do; ask questions, inquire about your situation, do as you think you need to. We can riff for a while until the other players are at a convenient point, but I'll throw in a few curve balls to keep this scene interesting.

[Azahul]

Guo Zai bows his head. "At once, master."

As he busies himself pouring the tea, he mulls over what his master has told him in his mind. He glances at the door of the room, beyond which he assumes are some more of the foreign guards, and glowers sourly. With the tea poured, Guo Zai composes himself once more and carries it so his master.

As he hands over the cup, he asks, "Master, may I ask a question? I recall what you told me earlier. Do you earnestly believe that this is the foreigners' plan? It seems... unlikely." Even though they are speaking Tibetan, Guo Zai knows at least one member of the Nazi expedition can speak the language and so takes care to keep details out of his words, in case they are being overheard. He speaks, of course, about the knowledge his master imparted to him earlier about the nature of the Nazi plans.

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Nice to get started I'm assuming that this is taking place after the information from that PM you sent has been divulged, but if that isn't the case I can change the post.

[Hack Writer]

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Yeah, basically everything kind of remains in place, barring the part where I said you'll be wandering the corridors on your way to Choden's chamber to assist him with his research - you're already there. I plan to contrive a meetup between Guo Zai and the other players soon, as soon as they're finished with their own little crisis.

The gentle features of Choden’s face take on a sombre caste as he accepts the bowl of warm tea from your hand graciously. He sips the contents of the bowl once, closes his tired old eyes, and exhales. Then he mumbles a mantra – something to cleanse and subdue the unquiet spirits afflicting his physical body – before fixing you with a paternal, attentive gaze.

“Ah my child,” he says croakily, “ you are ever the attentive do khyi, watchful and vigilant. But your choler is unbecoming. Be calm and be at peace, for you are no longer the same hot-blooded young warrior that arrived at our temple all those months ago.” Choden takes another sip of the analgesic broth, before setting the cup down on the table before him. He coughs briefly, and wipes his mouth with the voluminous sleeve of his gown.

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Make a Notice check for me, Azahul. Ta muchly.

“You are right to ask, of course; for I do question the motivation of our allies and the nobility of their cause. They speak of healing the damage wrought by the Serpent’s demise. Yet…” he looks at the scrolls laid out on the table before him, and his voice becomes tinged with worry, “…yet these scrolls are a treatise on secrets man was never meant to learn; strange keys to stranger gates which once unbarred, may bring forth unspeakable calamity unto the world. The first of these gates has already opened; the Serpent has arisen and died, in accordance with its heavenly design. The second gate remains locked, for now. I know not what good may come from probing too deeply into the gulf between the heaven and the earth, but the texts as translated speak of the coming of a great cosmic horror, which will stalk from its abode in the southern sky, where the stars sit aligned to the pattern of the Wolf.” Choden rises then, his old frame creaking like an ancient willow tree, and hobbles across the chamber to his small sleeping pallet in one corner of the room. There he stops, stoops low slightly, and withdraws a small wooden box, engraved in a simple tree motif. “Within this box are contained the sum total of my translations of the scrolls to date. They detail matters I have yet to disclose to our companions, the foreigners. If what I suspect is true, then the foreigners seek nothing less than to control whichever outré force may be awoken by the incantations of these scrolls - to make the Wolf their own, as they sought to do with the Serpent.” Chodan turns and fixes you with a determined stare: “Guo Zai, my child, nothing good can come from such hubris. That is why I am entrusting you with this secret, and a vow: to prevent the truth of these writings from falling into the hands of those that would use them for ill. Can you swear to me now, upon all you hold sacred, that you will do this?”

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Can you also pick a colour for Guo Zai's in-character speech text? It just makes things a bit nicer to read on the page. Thanks, mate.

[Azahul]

"Master, of course," Guo Zai said, bowing his head. He was a bit startled that Choden was acting with such a lack of caution, speaking so plainly after Guo Zai had taken such care not to directly mention the cause of his concern. If one of the foreigners that understood their language happened to be eavesdropping... "I swear, Master. May the four winds stand as my witnesses, the foreigners shall not learn these secrets from me."

[Hack Writer]

Choden takes your hands in his own frail palms, and holds them to his forehead gratefully. “You are a good boy and an apt pupil – far better than I was at your age.” He smiles then, wryly, and releases your hands. The worry clouding his features appears lifted, and he says, “Yes, Guo Zai, I was indeed your age – once. Ah but that is many, many moons ago, and now I am but a doddery old man; my body fit only for kindling!” Chuckling, he places the box with its contents back beneath his sleeping pallet, before returning to the desk and resting his tired old bones back on his stool.

"“But we must bide our time and wait. Fortune shall dictate the moment of our-”

Choden’s words are cut short by the clip-clap of booted feet approaching the chamber from outside.

“Remember,” he whispers briskly, “patience and self-control.” With that said, he reassumes his former duties at the table, taking up his stylus and adopting a pose of mock-studiousness.

A moment later, the door to Choden’s chamber swings unceremoniously open, and in stride a pair of tall, uniformed German soldiers, clutching machine guns to their barrel chests and sporting gaunt, demonic respirator masks over their heads. Between their broad shoulders walks an imperious be-speckled little western man in a black fedora and polished black leather jack books. He lacks the height of his two menacing guards, but the ominous aura of near palpable malignancy and the strange metaphysical energy that surrounds him add a quality to his bearing more striking – and eminently more sinister – than mere prosaic stature could ever accomplish. He strides forcefully into the room, his guards taking up position either side of the door, and you find yourself stifling an involuntary shudder of discontent as he presents himself before Choden’s desk.

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Dietrich Erlich Vogal… You say the man’s name to yourself silently.

“Ah, good morning to you both, mein freuds,” Vogal says casually, his thin lips pursed in a tight, controlled smile. “It is good to see that you are already hard at work.”

“And good fortune to you, too, Hauptmann Vogal,” Choden replies in German respectfully. “Yes, we have been busy since dawn, translating the text as you instructed.”

“And how goes it? Have you succeeded in deciphering the ritual of the Fourth Key yet?”

Choden’s tranquil smile remains fixedly on his face, and he says: “I shall not lie; the ritual’s secrets remain elusive for now, but with enough time I feel - ”

“Time!” Vogal interrupts, his voice characteristically casual, his manner pleasant and off-hand. “Ah, that most finite of resources! Alas time is something mankind can ill afford to spend, revered one. Humanity stands upon the precipice of annihilation after all, and the hour of our extinction looms ever closer.” As he speaks, Vogal toys absently with the strange amulets draped over his neck and pinned to the lapels of his overcoat. Those amulets are a mixed collection of chipped stone and metal runes, wrought in accordance with the sorcerous alphabet of European Nordic tradition. They reek of primordial energy and the cold, unremitting power of forgotten streams of magical wisdom. “So tell me, why does the Fourth Key still remain beyond the Reich’s reach? Have we not furnished you with enough resources already?”

Choden, kowtowing effusively, speaks up, his voice respectful and apologetic, “It is not a matter of resources, Hauptmann, but patience – and faith. Look, here, only today I have succeeded in deciphering another class of pictographic symbols. Taken with what we have learned already, almost all of the hieratic tongue of the Mu Sorcerers is now known to us.” He holds up his day’s efforts for Vogal to inspect, head bowed meekly, his frail body hunched in an outward sign of respect.

Vogal takes the pages in his gloved hand with interest. The Ahnenerbe officer purses his lips and examines their contents intently, before at last shaking his head and casting the writing down on the desk with a casual, dismissive gesture. “You still fall short of our expectations, revered master. I am finding it difficult to believe that a scholar so immersed in the lore of antique eons as you, prove incapable of matching the intellect of the antediluvian Mu priest-kings. It is…disappointing, to say the least.”

Choden bows lower, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. “We humbly ask for your forgiveness, Hauptmann, and will strive to ensure your faith in us is returned.”

Vogal turns then, seemingly ignorant of Choden’s fawning, and paces the room, his hands clasped behind his back, his head cocked to one side as if him thought. He tuts, eyes roaming the sparsely furnished chamber, before at last wheeling on his heels and fixing you with an inquisitive expression.

“You, student. Perhaps you can explain why the revered master has been unable to make further progress with the text?”

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This guy’s a Nazi, probably a powerful occultist (those talismans he wears give him ‘strange powers,’ at least according to Choden), and he’s definitely an *******. He’s also one of the lead players in the Nazi operations on this mountain, wielding considerable – if not total – influence over the occult research of the scrolls Choden’s trying to decipher.

[Azahul]

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From memory, I don't think Guo Zai can speak German, so I'm going to assume that last bit was either in Tibetan or English.

Guo Zai bows his head respectfully. "I regret, sir, that my opinion is worthless next to that of my master's. His wisdom eclipses mine like the mountains eclipse their foothills. If he finds these texts difficult to decipher, then I can only imagine they would be next to impossible for any other to read."

[Hack Writer]

Vogal sighs theatrically at Guo Zai’s feigned apology and removes his glasses from their perch on the end of his stubby nose. Breathing upon each lens in turn, he rubs them clear with the balls of his thumbs, saying:“An unfortunate turn of events, mein freuds. I would hate to think that your ‘difficulties’ with translating the text stem from any misplaced reservations you might have about the purity of our goals or the integrity of our intentions…” He places his glasses back on his nose and starts to pace around the room slowly, hands folded behind his back. “Such reservations are absurd, of course. The Reich wants only what you want: prosperity for mankind and the opportunity to make the world anew. With the scrolls of the Mu Priest-kings fully deciphered, the catastrophe that grips out world will be averted, and the tyranny of the old status quo will be no more.” He stops his pacing and faces you both. Vogal’s hand reaches absently for one of his etched runic pendants and his gloved palm kneads the cold, dull meteoric metal mechanically. “For too many years now, your great and storied kingdom has remained fast beneath the boot heel of foreign oppressors and Imperialist powers. With the wisdom of Mu in our grasp, China will have the strength to cast off the shackles of her occupation and rise, magnificent and splendid, to take her rightful place as sole mistress of the Orient. My own Reich, battered for now but unbroken, will supplant the corpulent, over weaned tyranny of the British Crown and sweep aside the godless cult of socialism that threaten to engulf your fair country’s borders. Together we will build a better world – a new world; a world where justice and fairness and wisdom prevail, verstehen sie?”

Vogal’s words are delivered with the earnest rhetoric of a rabble-rousing preacher. But you find the fire of his words chilling, tempting though the thought of liberating China from her oppressors might be. Choden makes to speak then, but a second hacking fit of coughing overcomes his fragile frame.

“You are ill, revered one,” Vogal states with something approaching concern.

Choden shakes his head and motions for you to bring him his tea. “An old affliction, I am afraid. The thin mountain air and the cold do not agree with my lungs, I fear.”

Vogal nods in understanding. “And that is why I have come here now. Our work on this mountain is almost at an end, and very soon our expedition will depart. I have taken it upon myself to see you both moved to new quarters immediately, somewhere more conducive to your study. The guards here will escort you, and your belongings will be delivered to you forthwith.”

Choden, stifling another cough, bows meekly, but the subtle look he throws you offers a window into his thoughts: the translations! Whatever happens, Vogal must not get the translations!

“Your beneficence is humbly appreciated, hauptmann Vogal.” He says, remaining serene.

Vogal claps his black-gloved hands together. “wunderbar! Then I shall ask that you depart forthwith for your new quarters. I shall personally see to the transportation of these relics myself.” He gestures to the scrolls on the table before Choden.

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Now Guo Zai's going to have to do something - anything! - to make sure Choden's writings aren't discovered by Vogal. What you do is up to you...

[Azahul]

"If I may, sir," Guo Zai says, bowing his head. "I would like to take care of the scrolls. My studies are not progressing as smoothly as they could, and my master wishes to give me some instruction in our spare time, as he is committed to his own studies during these work hours." If only he could get the scrolls out of this room, Guo Zai was sure he could get them somewhere safe. Back to the lamasery, perhaps.

[Hack Writer]

The Nazi occultist considers your words, rubbing his chin with the nib of his thumb...

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Make a Persuasion check for me, Azahul. The roll's 1d4-2, because Guo Zai doesn't have the Persuasion skill and doesn't have a Charisma bonus.

[Hack Writer]

“Very good,” Vogal says at last. “I obviously do not need to emphasis the importance of these storied relics to the fate of the world or the continued existence of our race as a species; without them, the cosmos will consume mankind as readily as a starving wolf may consume a mewling babe. Remember this!”

Then, Vogal smiles once to each of you, straightens the collar of his voluminous black coat, pokes his eyeglasses up a notch on his nose and proceeds to march out the room, saying, “the guards will remain with you, should you require any further assistance. When you are done gathering all that you need, you will be escorted to your new chambers.” He departs, leaving yourself and Choden alone with the two impassive Nazi guards.

Choden turns to you, obviously relieved, and says in Tibetan, “well done, Guo Zai, for showing such temperance. I will take the translations from my bed, and you take the scrolls. If the worst does befall us and there is no other choice, I will destroy the documents immediately, lest they fall into unworthy hands.”

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And well done indeed! Convincing Vogal to not take the scrolls is going to make your life a hell of a lot easier from here on; it means you don't need to worry about getting them back before your party finds its way off the mountain!

Feel free to ask Choden any questions you might have concerning the scrolls, the mountain, the situation in the world - anything, really, until the other two are in a position to meet you. I'm willing to move this scene on right away if you prefer , but this is just a convenient moment to get any outstanding topics you've been wondering about dealt with in an IC fashion.

[Azahul]

Guo Zai carefully gathers up the scrolls, and prepared to leave with Choden.

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I'm happy to wait for the other guys to catch up. Don't really have any questions to ask yet.

[Hack Writer]

It takes Choden less than two brisk minutes to gather what passes for his worldly possessions. He fumbles beneath his sleeping pallet and draws forth the unassuming lacquer wood box, which to any uneducated eye would appear to be little more than a caddy for the transportation of his herbal tea. He cradles the container to his chest as a child would cradle a treasured toy, or a mother would cradle a child, and directs you to gather up the ancient brown scrolls, his writing implements and his notes. Then, with the business of packing up concluded, he turns to the statue-like sentries flanking the doorway, and says in German: “Please, gentlemen, we are ready to leave. Escort my student and myself to our new home; I would very much like to continue our study with the minimum amount of disruption.” One of the pair nods at this, and replies: "This way, revered one.” The pair turn on their heels with the perfect synchronicity of worker ants, the speaker’s companion taking a moment to hold the door open for you both to exit through.

As you walk past, Choden, careful to affect the air of a master schooling his pupil in some aspect of his study, says to you, in Tibetan: “Patience and tranquillity always, Guo Zai. We must remain serene until the heavens decide to favour us with their blessing.”