(3.5) Escape from the Myst (IC)

[Chilingsworth]

Oh, I almost forgot:

We also have an almost certainly criminal vendor who somehow came in posession of a rather powerful cursed item, and (probably) at least one potion of glibness. Now normally, scamartists, while loathesome, wouldn't concern me this much. However, given the resources he apparently aquired, is it possible he was acting as an agent for our foes? Either willingly or as a dupe? And, is he still secure? Afterall, even if he wasn't originally a spy, I'd would be surprised very little if he turnedcoat at the first opportunity now. Also, where is that cursed item? Raven, didn't you say it was shielded against your detection spells? I wonder, might it be so shielded to conceal a scrying beacon of some sort? Afterall, few would suspect such a thing, and putting a scrying beacon in a cursed item would be a likely way of getting it into a temple when the victim went there to be cured, wouldn't it?

['Able' Xanthis]

As the people about you shift you lock eyes with each one of them. Sindri looks at the fresco's of ancient hero's long past and just returns your look with a grin. Raven Seems to shake under the weight of all the information she's learned today, you've seen her like this before when she just suddenly start spouting information on how to do/kill something of an insidious nature. Wyrd seems to be cycling through hair colors, but somehow manages to wordlessly convey a sense of rising danger or anticipation. The entire temple seems to cease for a moment as all the clerics of your god look to you. Then suddenly the world turns red.

The world is in red tint now and you feel something coming, something big. Like a mountain big.

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Will Save

[Chilingsworth]

What the--?!

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awaiting will save results.

['Able' Xanthis]

Enamel shatteringing, gums bleeding, ice outside, bone-marrow of molten lead, heart of moving glass!

Pain. You thought you understood the word, but now your understanding has... expanded. You have no idea how your still on your feet after the moment of sheer agony you just went through.

[Chilingsworth]

*screaming in agony, a litany of curses I'm not properly equiped to do justice to. Followed by shocked relief to realise he's still alive.*

I check myself and those around me for injury.

['Able' Xanthis]

Nothing... Not one wound...

"Keep your eyes forward, Faithful." A man's voice says from behind you. "Lest we lose the chance your Loving Lady has given you."

[Chilingsworth]

*obeys and keeps his eyes forward, while trying to figure out what's going on.*

(I don't recognise the voice as anyone affiliated with the temple, do I?)

['Able' Xanthis]

"Good," the unfamiliar voice says as you keep your eyes forward your mind burning through information, "now we've only got one go at this," 'dyed red' a term that some faithful priests of Wee Jas use for visions, ", and in all seriousness this couldn't have happened without you, Faithful." As you glance about everyone but yourself is still, unnaturally so. "Devote enough to warrant attention, even if it was the neutral kind. But out of place..." Payment of The Blood an ancient method of ritual magic used by the very first followers of Wee Jas, said to be the 'smallest death' in payment for divine guidance, innuendo aside you think you may have endured it just now.

[Chilingsworth]

Wh... what... are we to do?

*voice shaking, from a mixture of awe and fear (and how much difference is there between the two, in a circumstance such as this?) Not allowing his eyes to wander away from forward.*

['Able' Xanthis]

"Listen well, Faithful, you were told to do something," the voice isn't truly soothing but it has the tone of a teacher aged but willing to let others learn, "let this be known to you. We're not allowed to tell you who you are working for but know that you are working for someone. Now tell me why would a well established religion with as many followers as your Ladies use such a small temple in such a large city? Just guess..."

[Chilingsworth]

Well, I would guess that it's because the library under this church might make a larger church risky. At minimum, the library combined with a larger church could be a threat to the primacy of the capital's church within the national hierarchy. At worst, such a concentration of casters might interact with the library in a dangerous manner, somehow.

['Able' Xanthis]

"A fair guess, and in some places correct. The Archive below is the reason why the church is so small. This is actually the first place Wee Jas was ever worshiped in the kingdom." The voice said. "Nerull's Chosen is making a bid for something that your Lady has kept safe from the hands of anyone, at my favor mind you. If this seige is successful you will see the world as you know it will wilt, but this is no Time of Troubles. None of you will be able to fight his Chosen. Indirect battle is the only way, faithful."

[Chilingsworth]

I will remember your words, inscribe them on my heart. They will be heeded.

['Able' Xanthis]

"Do so, Faithful," The voice says, "because this is not all that I am to intrust to you. But first you must turn to me and see the face of that with which you have spoken so candidly. Turn to me, Faithful."

[Chilingsworth]

*Turns to face the speaker*

['Able' Xanthis]

You stand looking at a man of indeterminable age, hair only slightly greying at the temples. His face is lined with laughter both hard won and bought. He wears loose purple garments of an unearthly fabric, and shimmering golden arcane runes that move and change with the moment cover his attire. In one hand he holds a simple wizards staff and the other is placed upon a magnificent book, the spine of which reads in an ancient arcane tongue you are sure you can't read The Truth About Magic.

"I needed you to be unbiased during our conversation, Faithful, but tell me how do you feel now?"

[Chilingsworth]

*Peilion Looks very thoughtful, considers how best to reply, and decides to hold back as little as elvishly possible.*

I think I understand the desire to avoid bias. I'm less sure that its elimination is possible, at the very least from the mortal mind. Possibly from the immortal mind as well. All the same, efforts in that direction always have value.

As to how I'm feeling...
At this particular moment? Fascinated? Intrigued? Maybe alittle confused.
This... effect... is responsible for the fascination and intrigue. Are we pulled out of time, or are my companions paralyzed? How much of this event will they remember? For that matter, how much of it will I remember. I imagine few mortals indeed experience anything like this.
As for the confusion, your appearance is quite similiar to representations of Boccob I've seen. From your entrance, with the ruby light and the toll I paid in pain, I thought We Jas (or one of her servants) had contacted me, perhaps.

Then again, maybe confusion is the wrong word to describe what I feel. It simply means some of my assumptions were wrong. I hope to avoid being so convinced of my own infallibility that such discoveries cause undue distress. Regardless, if I am speaking to Boccob, or one of his higher servants or avatars, does that mean the beliefs of the Crimson Sisterhood are true, or at least close to the truth?

More generally, I'm terrified. I suspect only fools wouldn't be in this situation. I'm facing my first siege. Now I'm told that our foe is a chosen of the reaper, and that should (s)he/it succeed in its mission, the world as we know it will end? Yes... terror seems an appropriate reaction, I think.

Still, the fact that one such as yourself is here gives me hope. And courage was never the absence of fear, but rather its effective management. Its absence indicates foolishness, mindlessness, or paladinhood.

I'm not feeling hopeless, just overwhelmed. Am I correct that your mission here involves something that might make this task seem more doable?

['Able' Xanthis]

A small grin tugs the corners of this beings lips as he listens to you. After hearing your piece he nods.

"I knew you were the best choice. Ansewers! I am no Vecna, old ghoul, and have little care for secrets.
I am a... memory of Baccob from before he/I became The Uncaring God of Magic. Not truly an Avatar but, something fundamentally different from anything ever made before.

The Sisterhood was Founded when I had something Special stored in the Archives below our feet, give anything a few hundred years and everything get's mix up a little. The Reaper, curse his bones, is making a bid for that Speical thing, and I have been forbidden by Powers far stronger than myself to directly use any means to warn my faithful, as if I'd care. But I am not Me I am not the Uncaring One, so I had your Lady set off a little memento that those first worshipers left from the days when they practiced a more... different art. In other words I'm using a loophole to push my agenda, I hope you don't mind.

Time has ceased to have meaning, for a while more at least. None but yourself shall remember any of this, and even you will only... well it's hard to explain to mortal. Basically you have a linear thought pattern and I'm trying to explain wind patterns to you."

[Chilingsworth]

*whispered in awe*

You're a... memory of Boccob before his/your apotheosis? So, you're a memory of him/yourself as a mortal? Magic can grant that much power?

*shakes his head*

No, that line of thought it likely best left unexplored right now, no matter how amazing and even tantalizing it is... especially because it is so much so.

*does his best to return to the matter at hand*

A 'loophole?' I'm guessing it takes advantage of the "can't warn your faithful." Since I'm not one of them, this prohibition does not apply to me. If that's the basis of this gambit, then I must confess it was fortunate, or I'd guess, likely part of your plan, that you told me you are not Boccob as we know him in this age. If you were, there would be a definately non zero chance that the loophole wouldn't be valid right now, sir.

*again tries to return to the matter at hand*

Right, so be that as it may... What advice can you offer on how to save this city, and with it, the Archive? If your answer to that is "nothing" and actually, even if it is, what can you tell me about this special thing?
Specifically, can the world as we know it survive without it? If it can, would it be within our means to destroy it, as a last resort to keep it out of the reaper's hands? I would be willing to do this even if it resulted in my annhilation: Afterall, as a matter of logic, it would be better that I be annhilated than the world as we know it be destroyed. Especially since the later would presumably include either my own destruction, anyway, or my being left in a world annhilation might well be preferable to.

My companions and I were starting to come up with some possible strategies. Well, my companions had come up with useful information and basic principles, and I was starting to formulate some ideas. Of course, given the information you just gave me, those are likely obsolete. Still, would any of these have any use:

1. Use the passage through the archive to escape the city and seek aid from local allies.

2. Use the passage through the archive to exit the city and execute guerrilla warfare against the enemies' logistics and support system.

3. Use the city's construction to turn the fight into building-by-building urban warfare, to buy time while we perform one of the other options I just mentioned.

Also, I have no actual authority here. I am unsure how much I should try to offer advice to the locals on how to defend their city. I'm quite sure they are unlikely to follow any orders I try to give them, and probably rightly so. Regardless, I'm unsure how much of the local resources I can ask for, and how best to ask for them.

4. An idea that occured to me from the new information you've given: Can the special thing (along with as much of the rest of the archives as possible) be smuggled out of the city to a more secure location?

I'm sure other ideas might come to me, but none to speak of have, yet. Still, another question: How do I best go about convincing others of the origin of any advice you offer me? Also, how much of this should I even try to relate to them?

*seems to be satisfied that he returned to the most pertinant subject at hand, with maybe a touch of pride that he managed to do so with all the fascinating distractions present.*

['Able' Xanthis]

Baccob smiles at you.

"Questions are the path towards understanding. If we do not ask then we shall never know and that is a loss in mine eyes.

The Special thing I speak of is a... Index of sorts. She slumberis in the Archives and her nightmares, and dreams, are all the defense the tomes ever will have need. Other than her there are dozens of mystic traps that are easily bypassed by just being faithful in your Lady, anyone else will have to be personally escorted.

The Archives themselves are a vast network of a little under eight square miles of sub-terrain library and you would need a map just to walk among it's tomes. Unfortunately no map was ever written, a weakness it was seen. At the heart of this place is a Vault, this is where the Index dreams out her days.

Your hope is two fold, the Index has a massive amount of knowledge stored in her soul, information deemed to dangerous or perverse. She will never divulge this information but she can help you in other ways. In her mind is the only map of your Ladies Library. If your retrieve the Index you will have the greatest tactical advantage, control over the target.

Two teams would be needed, at the least though, I would suggest three.

The first would gain entry to the Vault and the Index. Using both you can have a drastic advantage Now. The Vault is actually quite nearby.

The second, should be a diplomatic envoy, I have no idea who you should plead with on this point.

The third and final team I suggest would be to assault and cripple the invaders, if at all possible.

Did I get everything?"

[Chilingsworth]

Almost.

How much of this should I tell the others? Also, how do I go about convincing them of the origin of my information? Or should I just tell them I was contacted by the Ruby Lady? I'd rather not lie to my friends, though.

Lastly, how should I deal with the local authority figures, apart from the Sisterhood?

['Able' Xanthis]

The God's Memory nods just before he grips the staff with his right hand in a white knuckled fist. A thin line of blood drips down from his eyes.

"He's early.

Visions from the heavenly powers happen. Tell them you gained a vision from your Lady, don't mention me or mine though.

The Sage is like washed canvas, little color but still reliable. The boy, Alekzandier, is young still, and has yet leaned to clean up house. His sister is of my faith, and she has endeared herself to the church.

The Wyvern rider is one of the few who could get word out, her skills are not to be underachieved."

[Chilingsworth]

I take it your... ward... is under attack?

*bows low*

I thank you, Boccob's carring echo. I wish we could have met under less dire circumstances and that I might ask more of you. Still, I suppose its only under such circumstances that we could meet at all. Given that, our dire circumstance has done some good, I think.

I guess this is goodbye, then?

['Able' Xanthis]

"A word of warning," Baccob says as thin cuts begin to appear across his flesh. Nonlethal points like the knuckles. "The Chosen of The Reaper is called The Voice of Nerull. Yes, this is goodbye. Perhaps someday you will learn enough to call on my aid for information, I really don't get out en.."

Suddenly the world snaps in harsh color. You fall to your knees, the last sight you remember of a bleeding man standing in a pool of his own blood.

[Chilingsworth]

*Pielion looks dazed as he returns to normal time*


I... I...

*shakes himself to sensibility Becomes harder than his friends have ever seen him.*

I have vital information. Before I dare share it, we must make as sure as possible we are secure. I am still concerned that vendor may have been an agent of our foes. That cursed weapon might also hide an information gathering device. It should be destroyed, if we can.

['Able' Xanthis]

"What in the Nine, weren't you turned the other way just a second ago?" Sindri bellows slightly, surprise enhancing his voice.

Raven is already on the move, headed toward the back area. Wyrd blinks and mutters under his/her voice. Eldest seems the most stricken, she is pale as alabaster.

[Chilingsworth]

*Turns to face the others*

I can explain, but first I must know we are secure. I will tell you this much: our foe is almost certainly strong enough to threaten that security.

['Able' Xanthis]

"There was something here just now, wasn't there?" Eldest says as she seats herself on a nearby pew. "A force of some-sort, I feel weakened."

Sindri looks confused for a moment and then his eyes harden, seeing his friend so serious has placed him in a focused state that he reserves for battle most of the time. He passes his hand over a belt pouch and then shakes his head. He then shoves his tome into his backpack and slings it over his shoulders.

Wyrd nods to his/her self and moves past everyone.

"I'm going to check on that vender." S/he growls as s/he passes you up. The tone is... scary.

Raven passes Wyrd by as she carries what looks to be an over sized scroll case out. She puts it down and glances back at Wyrds back before oppening the case and sliding the oil cloth wrapped sword free. She glances at those around you all and recites a hymn to Wee Jas that has most of the faithful smiling.

[Chilingsworth]

*Pielion nods to Wyrd*

Good idea, hmm... has he been disenchanted? I'm fairly sure he had lie concealing magic on him earlier. If he hasn't, trust nothing he says, no matter how truthful he seems.

*he then turns to the Eldest*

Yes... something like that. I dare not speak too much on it until I'm confident in our security. Weakened, you say? Will you be alright?

*concerned*

*He then watches Raven, watching to see if she achieves her aim, and ready to provide aid if asked*

['Able' Xanthis]

Wyrd stops for a moment and then nods as s/he leaves you hear her/him mutter.

"Trust nothing he says, no matter how truthful it may sound."

The Eldest nods, and pulls a thin flask out of her robes. She takes a moment to open and begins sipping lightly at whatever is inside.

"Like I have cast many more spell than I have, and there is a sense of weakness in my body, as if I've only just recovered from the flu or something."