War of the Final Whisper [IC]

**Thrair** · 2016-10-01, 03:46 PM (ISO 8601)

She laughs lightly.
"Hah. Well.... military was fun for a bit, but it got too stale for my tastes. I never wanted to be career, anyways. So.... lumber to Ardellon, then? I have a few people who owe me a couple favours and I might be able to daisy-chain something up for this. I won't gouge them too hard. Interest will be fair enough. But we're still making money off this."

She has a slightly fey laugh.
"Now.... As for the mess you're talking about ... the family's been in touch with some people who're in the know.... and I know a guy who knows a guy... He can get me a hold of a gal with some vested interest in making that problem go away..."
Her grin is anything but cheerful.

**TiaC** · 2016-10-01, 03:53 PM (ISO 8601)

Velion nods slowly. "Sounds like you have things well in hand there. I'm sure you know what you're doing." Velion avoids family politics whenever possible, so he assumes that she knows what she's doing and doesn't plan to ask any questions.

**Reltzik** · 2016-10-01, 04:06 PM (ISO 8601)

"As of my last report, which is several days out of date, our senior leadership is hurt, but our military is largely intact. Our navy has suffered a defeat and was forced to withdraw, but is intact. Absolam has the advantage on the seas, but if that can be addressed we will be free to defend both of our coasts. What's more, we would still have the capacity to land both Andoran and Chelish formations at Absolam itself. The enemy has shown little concern for defense, and we would be able to take them by surprise."

Alstroemeria sighs. "And no, we can't wait until later to sort it out. There are significant spoils to be had from this war, and more to the point both of our nations have a desire for each others' blood. You have military experience, Senator Metradora, so tell me. What are the prospects for a joint military alliance when both principle parties see immense advantage in betrayal, be it in spoils or simply conquest of their supposed allies? Andoran may trust itself to behave, but does Cheliax? Cheliax may intend to behave, but does it trust Andoran? The second victory is achieved, who will be the first to turn upon the other? Before it is achieved, but knowing it is guaranteed? When it is not yet guaranteed, but once it is likely? Before then, even, simply to preempt betrayal by the other side? The best way to avoid this alliance disintegrating short of its goal is to set up, NOW, a permanent structure that will forestall both opportunity and causes for war for years into the future. That means establishing buffer states so that we no longer share a common border. That means bringing in or creating several additional, neutral parties that can force the peace between us that we have never been able to achieve on our own. And it means a fair division of spoils, one that both sides can live with and even receive reparations from, well before they are conquered. If we do cannot do these things, now, then failure is assured."

Alstroemeria follows this up with a firm set of her jaw. "And the nature of this enemy is that it is subversive, insidious. If we do not occupy Absolam and purge them with vigor, they will certainly hide in the population and rise again. What division of those duties could we make that would not result in our nations sharing a flashpoint for conflict?"

She stops, thinking things through. "Cheliax could, if granted Ostensos and with proper access to reparations from Absolam also allow for Andoran to manage the occupation.... a long but ultimately temporary one. Perhaps until all Absolami now living have passed on. The point is that Absolam be controlled and brought to order, so that it is no longer a threat."

**TiaC** · 2017-04-15, 05:28 PM (ISO 8601)

Velion considers the dragons, "So, as I see it, we will all be acting towards the same goal. However, we are not likely to be acting in perfect unison. Let's stay out of each other's way and assist when necessary. I'm sure that we can all take down some ships. Good luck all! I bet I can sink more ships than you, any takers?"

**Reltzik** · 2017-04-17, 01:51 AM (ISO 8601)

"Perhaps a division of labor is in order," Alstroemeria suggests. "We are up against three fleets, and would probably conflict with each other least if we divided them between us. Principal fleet, Heavy fleet, and Arcane Support. I estimate that our team is poorly-equipped to tackle the Arcane Support fleet. Would either of you venerable ones happen to have some manner of anti-magic prepared to make their day more interesting?"

Spoiler: EDIT-OOC

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Am I correct in guessing that "Principal" fleet means it's their main-line, baseline builds and crews, while "Heavy" fleet means an emphasis on artillery and armor for bombardment and broadsides rather than boarding or landing tactics?

**Thrair** · 2017-04-18, 05:32 AM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: OOC

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Correct. Principal fleet (1st Fleet) is their largest "general operations" fleet. The Heavy Fleet (2nd) specializes in precisely what you described. Heavy ship-to-ship fighting and coastal bombardment.

Selmorak snaps his right eye to look at Amanaxys, then to Velion. A low rumble emanates from his throat.
"You? Sink more ships than us? Is it possible, perhaps, that you are developing a sense of humour, Tiefling? I am almost proud of you."

Amanaxys' features bull back into a wry grin, and he chuckles in a soft voice that seems out of place coming from such a large creature, in stark contrast the low rumble of Selmorak.
"Heheh. I feel I like the challenge from the young Colonel. Been too long since I truly had a chance to cut loose, ya understand me?"

"Oh, come now. It hasn't been nearly that long, for you. You partook in the Cult of the Dawnflower's support of Khemet I to power, if I am not mistaken? What? Was that not enough to stir you from your musings of ancient scripture?"

"For the record, I was barely involved. I just advised the Dawnflower sect and reigned in some of their more militant leaders. My only open contribution was a mere show of force to those that were thinking of staging a coup after the nearly bloodless transition."

"Yes, a mere show of force from an ancient wrym. How could that possibly be impressive. This has always irritated me; you feign this overwrought humility, and use it as a veneer for your condescending attitude. I do so despise those that humblebrag. I, at least, am open in acknowledging my powers."

"Such as they are, aye. And it is interesting that you bring up scripture. I've been meaning to ask you... why you have always been so adamantly opposed to the concept of worship? There are innumerable deities that would align well with your motives. The Favoured Sting among them, given your vindictive streak."

"Oh, not this argument again. I have told you, numerous times, I find the gods intention to only interfere with the mortal plane to jealously protect their own interests offensive. And, besides which, I am far too old to be interested in half of the portfolio of Calistria. Were I several centuries younger, and Xysmerada still alive, perhaps you might have a point."

"Xysmerada? You mated with Xysmerada! Dear gods. That match would have been terrible. How did you tolerate one another? And the eggs resulting.... I shudder."

"First of all, mind your tongue. Secondly, it was a brief affair, no more, and we were both intoxicated for most of our encounters, something I am sure your mates relied upon heavily when dealing with you. And for my part, I found her rather pleasant. She was assertive, to the point, and donated several interesting volumes to my library; three of which she wrote herself. The clutch fared quite well for itself, thank you very much. Besides, you are hardly one to talk, what with your affair with Colaraxia in the late 3000s. How did that end, may I ask? I seem to recall it ended with a spat in public in front of a visiting copper? I believe the younger races call this 'getting dumped'? My, if I had known that she was the old lover you kept referring to wistfully, I might have shown more sympathy, 'Max'."

"It was mutual! Gods, I swear. One bad breakup and it follows you for centuries. How it is that you managed to have greater stability in your relationships than I is beyond me. Must be your use of the herb..... Godess, what are we doing.... we should really be going, aye? I feel an uncommon urge to burn something. Since you have an affinity for the young lady and her bodyguard, might I suggest they go with you? And I'll take the Tiefling that has, unlike certain individuals, managed to overcome the darkness inherent in their race? And the Elf that may yet be saved?"

Both appear to have settled into a passive-aggressive rapport, though this is an improvement from moments ago.

Spoiler: OOC

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And yes, they're a little distracted. I'll answer the question Alstroemeria asked if Zerkai doesn't post in a day or so. Or if you remind them with something funny IC. :P

**Reltzik** · 2017-04-19, 11:58 AM (ISO 8601)

Alstroemeria gives Max a smile. "If you are suggesting the possibility of a philosophical debate on the various fields of ethics, I suppose Caedor would prefer that we not engage in such where he must hear it. I would welcome the conversation, for myself. Though I should warn you that I consider deontology to be an intellectually bankrupt proposition incapable of withstanding more than superficial scrutiny."

**Zerkai** · 2017-04-20, 11:40 AM (ISO 8601)

Sekla looks up at the dragons as the bicker and talk about mates and such, leaning towards Veras as she watches the two argue. "I suppose our conversation somehow infected the dragons... though I gotta admit I was a little curious about whether or not they had mates and offspring. They are the oldest dragons and all, they might have grandchildren or great grandchildren? Not too sure on Dragon lifespans and generations there..."

She removes a gauntlet to pull out a smoked sausage from her rations and snack on it while the others spoke and planned. "We can go with Cae-uh... Selmorak. Also, do want to say it was very impressive how you managed to melt down the big metal colossus that was Jermaine's remains a while back in the middle of the night with noone having seen it. ... As much as I would hate to have to kill him again, it be would provide another great boon for my people with the metal we'd acquire from it."

"We also have what we looted from the last Deacon that we should have you guys look over. I could probably fund the entirety of the UNC with the people that regularly come to kill us. At this point, I just kinda feel bad for our enemies... their attempts to hinder us tend to help me immensely, like a self-fulfilling prophecy of some kind. My people and I become larger threats the more and more they try to stop it."

**Thrair** · 2018-04-06, 09:56 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: OOC

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So, made this up as a quick'n'dirty intro, though I did have to make a small rewrite after double-checking the session logs.

You were able to enter the city easily, given your talents. Making your way through past various chokepoints, you find the city to be a carnival of oddities. A near-total evacuation of the civilian population has been undertaken, and in its place is a curious mix of military forces. Hellknights from Cheliax and a Andoran cavalry division are little surprise, given what you know of the city's status between the two nations. More surprising is the presence of an unheard of number of Hobgoblins from the northern clans, rapidly fortifying their own section of the city between the docks and what you presume to have been the former temple district.

Adding to the chaos are a number of mercenary gangs and soldiers of fortune, including a senior warpriest of Gorum and a few privateers, one of whom you believe to belong to crew of your mother's brief associate. He seems to be keeping his affiliation secret, however. Even you likely wouldn't have placed him if Rashaad hadn't informed you of precisely what to look for. Regardless, this motley group is being corralled by what remains of the city guard.

Lastly, there are an usually large number of lesser clerics from several religions, seemingly organized by a half-orc knight of some status in the standing of Iomedae. They seem wary and on edge, many using magic to analyze their surroundings and pouring over scrolls and maps. Tensions are thick, but they seem focused enough on their tasks to cooperate despite philosophical differences.

Stranger still than the diversity of forces present is a strong cooperative force congregating around the ruins of some sort of masonry building. Rather than fortify the city itself, much effort had been spent in isolating the rubble and forming a perimeter. The temptation to investigate it is there, but Hemlock insists on first locating your mother, as she can likely provide much more information on your current targets than a cursory investigation in an admittedly curious location.

Setting that matter aside from the time being, there is little else of consequence between you and the manor of the woman outsourcing from a house of slavemasters. That Samiya was favoured by senior members of House Leroung is not lost on you. As your understand it, the manor itself lies on a small island at the center of the river the city has been built around. Seemingly, it was a sort of natural motte-and-bailey of some past military force, before being renovated by it's current master.

Further thoughts are interrupted as fires begin breaking out throughout the city, and military signal flares are lit. Rarely a good sign, and one that encourages you to skip scenic attractions on the way. As you approach, you hear the din of combat from the island. Moving stealthily, you are able to reach the battlements without being seen. You are witness to sheer chaos. Spreading from the keep's gate, beast and sophont alike swarming over hapless victims. Those attacked soon join their attackers, with several exceptions that are instead torn to shreds, all seemingly without rhyme or reason. In the middle of the carnage is a young winged child, barring the bridge to the city and cutting down any that approach. From the ramparts, a pair of marksmen shoot down any creature that escapes the girl's fury.

Even more noteworthy is the sudden appearance of a behemoth of metal armor atop the battlements, drawing a blade the length of a small ship. Almost immediately, a large explosion strikes it squarely and the massive iron figure falters, calling out in a booming voice.
""ARGH! I'M ALRIGHT! I'M ALRIGHT! I'M...... FUUUUUUUUGGHHHHHHhhhhhh."

Moments later, it seemingly vanishes, and the girl hesitates, moving to abandon her vigil. The one wielding the bow seems to note this, and barks out only barely loudly enough to reach your ears.
"Trust him, Jess! He's tough! We've still got more than enough firepower here to occupy their attention, maybe kill a few of 'em. Focus on keeping Isegar's mess contained!

**Reltzik** · 2018-04-07, 12:15 PM (ISO 8601)

Raven -- or Quinn, as she thought of herself right now -- had very little idea what was going on.

In the broad sense, Samiya's manor was under attack. .... obviously. What she was less obvious was who the combatants were. So she found a nice shadow where no one was likely to trip over her, settled down with Hemlock as an inconspicuous (if beautifully carved and lovingly polished) walking stick/quarterstaff across her lap, and began mentally cataloguing participants, trying to sort out sides, loyalties, and priorities.

Those people who'd come flooding out of the gate looked like civilians, which meant that unless the attackers had brought civilians to the fight, meant that they weren't the attackers. Therefore, assuming the whole affair hadn't devolved into complete unsided chaos, the archer and "Jess" were with the attacking force. The hulking armored giant was also on that side, to judge by Jess's impulse to go to his assistance. Which meant that loud boom which had taken down the giant -- had to either be magic or gunpowder, powerful stuff either way -- was from a defender, and the defenders were at least holding out. At least for the moment.

Her priorities were a bit more confused.

Raven had a mission, but how best to accomplish it was at question. It looked like the assailants were among her ultimate targets. Their blatant, casual slaughter of everyone in sight matched, at least, but that was hardly unique in the world. Hemlock would murmur something to her if they were her targets, but maybe she needed to be closer to be sure.

Getting access to the manor through stealth was easy enough, but getting access to the information she needed (and, if forced to, the target she might ... hopefully wouldn't.... need to interrogate to find her ultimate targets) was not, not unless she could build some trust or at least give a reason for being there. Maybe that target was in the courtyard with the defenders or maybe not. If not, her target would likely return to this base of operations in a few days, and Raven had better chances of making contact if the base of operations was still here. Also, Raven would prefer to encounter her potential source with a bit more time to mentally prepare, rather than in the heat of battle.

So Raven's best option seemed to be to intervene at the gate. Rather than the chaotic situation that seemed to be the courtyard, if the sudden reversal was any indication, it had a clear line of combat which she could disrupt on the defenders' behalf, a loose formation that would keep the assailants mostly focused on the reinforcements and not watching their backs.

This was also what Quinn wanted. Quinn was not the sort who could sneak into a fortified manor easily, and would be forced to answer all sort of awkward questions about how she'd done it. That might lead people to realize that Quinn could do what she couldn't, and neither Quinn nor Raven wanted that. Besides, while Raven was inured to death, Quinn was compassionate and personable and wanted to do something about the slaughter she was witnessing before her eyes. And, as it happened, she could.

"We'll relieve the gate first," she murmured to Hemlock. "Build a bit of good will, let the civilians out. Should make getting the intelligence easier later."

Quinn moved slowly towards the gate, taking a bit to switch out her hat for her mask and cast some defensive magics to herself. ((Blur and Mirror Image, (1d4+1)[4] images.)) She took in a final moment to assess both the combat skills of the girl and marksmen, and the likelihood of the courtyard fight spilling over into the gateway. Based on that, she crept towards the musketeer. Poking her head around the corner, Quinn drew an arrow and Hemlock, understanding what this meant, became a bow. (A beautiful bow, one of black wood with inlaid dark amber trails swirling around inset uncut amethysts. Raven had come up with that one a month ago and Hemlock still liked it. Beautiful... but also dark-colored and not likely to give away her position.)

Quinn nocked and drew.

**Thrair** · 2018-04-07, 11:24 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: OOC

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For Sekla, here. As you do something completely bat**** insane and plotderailing by putting your soul on the line to have a conversation with a f**kmothering horseman.

As the dark energy washes over you and you sense the offer of conversion, Bjaela likely not even considering that aspect of the magicks, some impulse spurs you to use the connection in a way few could have forseen. You feel a sense of deep malice smothering you, and find yourself collapsing to the ground as your vision clouds.

Within moments, your vision returns. You find yourself standing within a foreign battlefield, all colours drained from the scene except the blood of the fallen. The air is sweltering and a thick smoke clings to your throat. A woman stands before you, facing the carnage. Black wings spread from her back, her armor regal and elegant, yet engraved with tarnished silver and blackened with soot. She utters a small snort of derision, turning to face you. Tears of blood line her face, her eyes black as onyx and mirroring the destruction before her. Though beautiful in her own way, she exudes a malicious air, her teeth far too sharp as one side of her mouth contorts into a wry grimace.

Movement to your side draws your attention, and you see Serena in her true form, her expression one of pure dread as she moves a hand to face.
".... The Angel of Desolation..... My dear Sekla.... what have you done...."

Szuriel turns back to the battlefield, a small chuckle escaping her. Her voice a smooth and even contralto, she calls out with mocking derision.
"Bold, Chieftain of War. Facing my band of toy soldiers in the field, you ask my blessing? You had my notice before... now you have my attention. Speak. Entertain me with your thoughts, and I may yet entertain them in turn."

**Zerkai** · 2018-04-09, 04:50 AM (ISO 8601)

Sekla let out a small groan as she came too, quickly getting to her feet and letting her eyes focus on the area surrounding her. She hated the heat the wind carried, though the vision of the battlefield was... unique, focusing on how the crimson stood out from the colorless background.

Then she focused on the winged woman in front of her, taking in her appearance, the tears of blood, the black eyes... her own brown eyes though glanced in the direction of Serena after the movement. "Nn... Apologies Serena, I just saw a chance is all..." was all she could she could really say at the moment as she watches the Goddess turn back to face the battlefield and begin to speak. She took a deep breath before taking a few steps forward to look out at the ruined field with her.

"Well if it's entertainment I could always sing, but I'm not as good at improv as your Deacon..." She says with a small smile despite the intense heat. "I've been... wanting this since the first time I sat down and spoke with Germaine. To be able to come here, I learned you weren't exactly on board with this whole mess the other cults have put in motion."

The small Chieftain glanced back at Szuriel. "And that's why I accepted the offer. Because I want to help you."

**Thrair** · 2018-04-09, 07:12 PM (ISO 8601)

Szuriel remains facing away, but her wings stretch wide in a sharp movement, before slowly relaxing.
"You go from bold to brazen. Help me. Absurd. These "Harbingers of Fate" do not tax my will! They tax my attention! I tolerate their manipulations for three reasons only. Firstly, two of my peers have made a game of it and drawn me into it, yet I intend to make them pay in full for my time. Secondly, the fools' actions have and will lead to a bloody and vicious war.... a war that will turn inward as their plans collapse around them. Finally... I myself am curious to glimpse what creature the fifth brings into your world."

She clenches an armored fist, gesturing broadly in front of her with her blade.
"And... much like the scene before you... All of this I already have. They have already begun to pay, the Harbingers are already collapsing, and their destruction will do nothing to stop the arrival of its avatar."

Her head tilts to the side, and she takes to the air, as much floating as flying, turning to pass her gaze over Serena, assessing.
"And yet... The game grows tedious, and I remain bound by the accords, restricted from acting directly. And my greatest mortal agent has been diverted from her training. It is well that you know Germaine, Knight of Blood. While useful in his own way, his wrath has grown cold. His passing will unleash my dear Songbird, whose fury sparks with potential that has been handicapped by such petty little politicians. The ruined sage beside you has been given a rare honor, speaking with the voice of the Gray Lady. If Germaine feels himself bound by her decree, then let it claim him."

Moving to Sekla, she passes a nail along her cheek, drawing the slightest bead of blood.
"You have offered your soul to my tender affections, my little Blood Chieftain. I could claim you in an instant. It is tempting to lay low a Paladin. Of all the lives I claimed while mortal, those of my own order are the only ones who have satisfied my rage. None since have. Perhaps you would be different. Tell me of your plans to end the little council of depraved men who think they have power unto my domain. Of this help you offer. What toys or favours do you seek, and to what brutal means do you wish to apply them?"

**Zerkai** · 2018-04-11, 12:21 AM (ISO 8601)

Sekla watches her wings stretch all of a sudden, it made her glance behind her to see if her own wings were still there in... wherever this place was. Her brow furrowed as she listened at the goblinoid girl had a small frown when Szuriel mentioned Germaine's passing. Her head tilted to the side slightly as Szuriel dragged the nail across her cheek, eye closing on that side of her face. When asked about her plans though she took a deep breath.

"I know nothing's going to stop the Avatar... and I'm not very knowledgeable about the arcane or a lot of this nonsense, but I've been wanting to find my way into wherever realm the council resides and slaughter them all. Your... Songbird told me that would be the best way to free her and her brother from their commands."

She closed her eyes briefly, taking another breath before opening them. "Information is what I'd like, but even being able to see or speak with you is amazing, regardless of our moral standings, regardless of being an Archdaemon, you are a Goddess, and one of War, and you know of my people's fondness of war... to a degree that were were almost wiped out because we couldn't stop. Even if my people will need time to rebuild before we can properly wage war again, I plan on making sure there is a church devoted to you when we have our capital."

"But I digress... do you know what's going to happen now once I return?" She asked her.

**Thrair** · 2018-04-11, 09:10 PM (ISO 8601)

More spoken than real, Szuriel utters a low chortle.
"Hah. There we are, little warlord. The language I speak. Oh, yes. You will slaughter them all. To. A. One. I am not as several other goddess or gods of war. When I name an enemy, they are to be ended. None spared, none escaping. That is what it means to invoke my name."

He grin grows ever wider, far wider than should be possible for a human or humankin. Yet, underneath, Sekla discerns a lack of sincerity or true mirth.
"And such a declaration of dedication you provide. A people so given over to war that they nearly fell for lack of restraint! Very well. I expect a place of worship for those that would follow my path, and I expect you to to find use for them."

Turning away, apparently satisfied, Szuriel throws a sphere of roiling crimson towards Sekla. It lands at her feet, and its presence gnaws at her gut.
"Now I shall tell you what will happen. Once you return, and you shall because I allow it, you will force the traitor-bishop of the Boatman to assume his empowered form. He worships a dead god. It seems a cruelty not to send him to follow. Execute him, and his power shall be the spoils of war... a key to what you seek. After that will come a test. You will either fall to my "Iron Tower" and prove your weakness as I claim your very soul, or you will not. But should you survive, you will seek my stone. If you wish to banish the Oinodaemon's pet, you will need the stones to do so. The boon I offer will allow you to claim it from that little man among little men. He promised a war that would slake my thirst, and has fallen short by far. My pawn knew the price of failure, and the reward for those found lacking conviction in the field."

"Go forth as my commissar of wrath. Go forth and lay waste to those guilty of ineptitude. We shall speak again, my little knight who fancies herself a queen."
With that, you feel a strong bout of nausea as the your vision clouds briefly and you find yourself once more on the courtyard of the manor, the din of combat surrounding you.

**Thrair** · 2019-02-17, 12:09 AM (ISO 8601)

For TiaC, hefty RP session after you left. Transcribed here and edit'd to colour it because it was spontaneous and surprisingly philosophical for an interaction with a minor side NPC:

Alstroemeria: "I have a bit of arcane knowledge to share with you that might be relevant on your mission."

'Kylee Kende': "...Yeah?"

Alstroemeria: "Deep in the plane of shadows, far beyond the portions corresponding to this realm or any realm, one can find the corpses of dying stars that have collapsed in on themselves into pure blackness. The gravitational pull of their corpses is so great that there is no known way of escaping them. Neither matter nor magic nor even light can escape their grasp. The intensity of it is so strong that tidal forces can literally tear someone apart. But most interesting is their effect on time. The deeper you fall into them, the more time dialates for you. It distends into eternity. You never actually die, because the next second will take until the end of time to pass."

"There is much scholarly debate, among those who know of these dead stars, on what that experience would feel like, being torn apart forever. Does the experience last forever, or are there a few brief seconds before reality itself expires? Or is one tortured for eternity, with no possibility of escape or rescue? But all this is speculation. No one has conducted proper empirical studies to learn what the answer is."

'Kylee Kende': "I am vaguely aware of the nasty things. Almost embody the void itself.... but my non-magical studies lean more towards chemistry and mechanics, not mathematics and the related field of celestial mechanics. So I've only really heard of them in passing as a dangerous curiosity."
"Not meaning to offend, the scholarly lecture was not asked for, but interesting enough. But it is not something I have much purpose to know. I'm an assassin. I am more concerned with terminal ballistics than something so esoteric. So... is there a point to this?"

Alstroemeria: "Only that the subject will become very relevant if you allow any harm to befall my daughter."

'Kylee Kende': "....Huh. This conversation might have given me some whiplash. Rest assured I have no desire to kill your daughter, nor to see her die. I work well with peers, as well. And see little chance of harm befalling either of us in the dwarvern lands. That said, should something befall her despite my efforts, you have my word that I will make my then-necessary preemptive strike as painless as possible. So your warning is really quite appreciated."

Alstroemeria: "Just so you're clear on where things will stand."

'Kylee Kende': sighs "We are. I truly despise this part of the job. I really do. ...Do you mind if I ask you a question, ma'am?"

Alstroemeria: "Please do. My concerns about Daisy's fate notwithstanding, I actually bear you no ill intent, and am always happy to enlighten those I regard as allies."

'Kylee Kende': "Your dossier... I've read it. All of your groups', actually. Do you find it... frustrating? This general attitude of hypocrisy? Just because the methods we use are seen as underhanded? A soldier kills when ordered. And armies, by their nature, inflict untold suffering and collateral damage. An assassin... and a professional one like me.... we kill when ordered. Quickly, as cleanly and efficiently as possible, and with no such collateral damage to speak of. Or at least not compared to a war."

"And yet.... both in my time with government black ops AND as a professional assassin, I am looked upon constantly with scorn. Dead is dead. What concern is the fairness of the method?"

Alstroemeria: "Fairness is a wonderful ideal that few consider through the entirety of its implications. It would be wonderful if the unfairness of assassinating someone unawares was not necessary, just as it would be wonderful if the unfairness of soldiers pillaging farms of their stock in winter was not necessary. Yet both are often necessary. There are a great many people out there with uneducated opinions. These say more about the lack of education on the part of the opiners, than about the objects of those opinions. I am frustrated only by the general ignorance. That said... I take some solace in those opinions. It suggests to me that it is within mortal capacity that we might, through learning and enlightenment, someday reform ourselves so that those 'underhanded' tactics are no longer be necessary."

'Kylee Kende': "Hm. I didn't take you for an optimist. Think I've seen a little too much of the world for that, myself. Doesn't matter what banner we fight under, for what cause we kill. They ask so much of us... and not only are we damned for it, it is never..... never enough. You understand, right? Tell me you get it. The price we pay? The sunk costs that assure we might as well carry on paying that price, because not only is it necessary, but we've little other option?"

Alstroemeria: "It is less optimism, and more... allowing for the possibility. A study of history shows a slow, general arc towards... mutually-beneficial cooperation, rather than mutually destructive competition. But yes, I do understand. Frankly I think a war of assassins targetting rulers would be far more enlightened, far fairer, far more merciful, and far more just than what we do now."

"But I disagree on one point. Sunk costs are no reason to keep on doing what you are doing. Sunk costs are written off as a basic matter of accounting. Either go with it because it's the right thing to do now, or leave off and find a better option. And there are plenty."

'Kylee Kende': "Yes, I am aware of the fallacy. Referred to it by name, aye? Trouble is, that fallacy is one of logic. Not emotion. And it is the latter that I feel has sunk."

Alstroemeria: "If it is not out of bounds for me to ask, what is there to your life outside of your profession? Have you sought a balance, or devoted yourself to it in your entirety?"

'Kylee Kende': "Hm. The latter, really. And perhaps recent events have put me in a somber mood.... But I can't help but question it all. It never seems enough. I have killed often. Very often. I don't take joy from it, and very little satisfaction. But I do it. Because at the end of the day, I'm good at it. And it was going to happen anyways. I see it a lot, really. Poor fools with their own goals, their own ambitions and dreams. Scraping together some meager little life..... until they make the wrong enemy, cross the wrong line, or just fail to cover their debts."

"And for what? Doesn't really matter. Seems damned irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things. Just when we're thinking.... maybe, just maybe, we're getting things cleaned up.... the gods or some daft fool serving them end up stirring the pot some more. Not enough for mortals to create a mess...."

"Then they end up pissing off the wrong group themselves, and someone comes after 'em. Heroes, monsters, or just people with more lives to throw at the source of the trouble."

"Bam. Dead and dead. Back to square f**kin' one."

Alstroemeria: "An elven poet once wrote that the value of a life is in the life and not the death. He meant that the full scope of one's life, the happiness and the joy and the challenges and on and on matter more than the final moments. If so, then perhaps that is why you are feeling this way. You are seeing the endings only, and not everything else."

'Kylee Kende': "Hm. Yeah. Maybe so. Seen a lot of endings, and they all end up looking the gods-forsaken same. My mom. My dad. Tried to live different ways after the divorce. But there it was, in the end. Same damn result."

"World's not exactly fair. Not everyone's dealt the same hand. Seems unfair to judge a person's life, given that. I dunno. I just feel... resigned. Can't imagine finding love at this point. Not sure I want to risk it, given my job. Hells... not even sure if I want it in the first place."

Alstroemeria: "So it's not sunk costs? It's risk-aversion?"

'Kylee Kende': "Is that it, though? Part of those costs from our line of work is loved ones. Your daughter's a good kid. But I got the impression, no offense, that your household was broken a long time ago. I've the protection of the guild. You, the Leroungs. Doesn't really seem to fix the core problem, does it? Any loved ones we have get dragged along for the ride. Your daughter doesn't get that, I think. Calistrians.... tend to be more about the now. It can be good to live for the moment, but.... "

"Even if I keep an eye on her this time, needed or not.... what then? I'm not dying peacefully in my sleep. My mom didn't. My dad didn't. She won't. Doubt you will, either. Your Velion there sure as hell won't."

Alstroemeria: "Actually, I'd put even odds on the army promoting him to bureaucracy and him poisoning himself to end it all."

'Kylee Kende': "Hah. Seems like the price one pays for doing anything important is to never get to stop. No rest for the wicked. I've stopped a few wars; beheaded a few organizations that would have made a mess of things, regardless of their intentions. And, yes, I've taken out some good people just trying to do right by them and theirs. I've done things that mattered. But, again, it's never enough. And never will be. Where's the satisfaction to be had? Where's the sense of accomplishment?"

"As much as he's a curmudgeon about it, I can sympathize with the guy. Velion, that is. He seems to have the same malaise."

Alstroemeria: "I think so. These are questions of deep philosophy that have been mulled over for millenia by minds greater than yours and mine, to no satisfactory conclusion. I sometimes think that the act of pondering these things is more important than the answers. So I can't give you a perfect answer. I can only tell you what I know from my own life."

"You've read my dossier, but I don't think you appreciate what it means. I am an elf. I am an elf who chose to marry humans, and have children with humans, knowing that they would age and die while I still lived. What the dossier probably doesn't include is what I did before that."

'Kylee Kende': "Only some basics. Essentially an indentured servant to a relatively benign Chelish House, learned to settle at some point. More recently pushed into ever-increasing conflict, exposed to powerful magics, and growing strong enough that I doubt you'll end up being able to keep that. Before that, nothing. But I've a former associate I might be able to contact again, and her mother was involved in a mess when Aroden bit it. Heh. Even with the gods, aye? Piss off the wrong person, bam."

"But yeah, I dunno. I might see if I can contact her. Been almost two decades. Might get her view on it. She had a kid, I think. Kinda surprised. Not the maternal type. If I'm going to risk it, it'd need to be soon. We humans aren't lucky enough to live as long as you elves. Another decade and I'm s**t out of luck on that count."

"Hm. Life is strange. Here I am, discussing a mid-life crisis with an middle-aged elf who I was nearly hired to kill."

Alstroemeria: "Well let me finish my tale. I was caught up at the end of the age. I was in Westcrown when Aroden failed to appear as promised. I was... almost an adult, not quite, when Old Cheliax tore itself apart in civil war. I spent decades after that as a refugee. Doing... pretty much the only thing that an older girl that could never quiet manage to age out of puberty could do to survive."

"And that's about all I could do. Survive. I couldn't pursue knowledge, or learning, which I'm sure you realize are my passions. I didn't dare have friends, or loves. I just went from one day to the next doing what I needed to do and trying not to feel.."

'Kylee Kende': "Eeesh. My sympathies. If it makes you feel better, the guild's given a few of us carte blanche to off creeps like that. We just have to check our targets first and are on our own for any blowback."

Alstroemeria: "Doesn't work. No creeps would have meant no coin. I would have starved."

'Kylee Kende': "Lesser of two evils, if you ask me."

Alstroemeria: "So here is my philosophy on life, the grand sum of two centuries of experience: You are either alive or you are dead. Physically. Emotionally, Spiritually. Living is painful. But being dead day in and day out is even worse. You don't realize it, but it is much, much worse."

'Kylee Kende': "Not to segue away from an unpleasant conversation.... no, I won't insult your intelligence with that lie.... on a less brutally disheartening topic.... how in the hell is that mephit your familiar? You share nothing alike. He's a psychotic little bastard with no impulse control. Can't imagine how you got stuck with him."

Alstroemeria: "Well it started with me wanting to interview outsiders to learn more about the elemental pla- oh, hello Sekla. Won't you join us?"

'Kylee Kende': coffee cantrip "Coffee?"

Alstroemeria: "Shozin was the first one to ask for asylum."

Sekla Bloodthirst jumps just a little. Peeking into the doorway nervously. In a green tunic and brown boots and leggings and carrying a finely crafted lute.
Sekla Bloodthirst: "I, uh... sorry about that."

'Kylee Kende': "Given he not only stole my rifle, but proudly informed me of the prank after I had spent the time to replace it.... despite knowing my career and capabilities.... I can say I am not even slightly surprised the little git needed it."

Alstroemeria: "Apparently he was conscripted into Hshurha's service as soon as he'd formed... only to defect into Tjasse's. I'm not quite sure what happened there, but it simultaneously angered and amused the Lord of Talons and he did... something to Shozin, so that he's no longer an ordinary mephit. In any case, he very much did not wish to return to the Plane of Air."
"Our partnership is very difficult for most people to understand. The essential quality of his character is that he refuses to admit that things are impossible. There is no dare he will not attempt, no foe that he will not in some way or another challenge. He reminds me to never give up."

Sekla Bloodthirst fiddles with her lute as she listens to Shozin's origin story.
Sekla Bloodthirst: "I really hope he doesn't pull the same thing he just did on Caedor..."

'Kylee Kende': "This week has been so strange. Extended contract with some nutjobs who end up violating the terms of the contract. Not the first time, but holy crap did they go overboard.... then end up getting caught in a charlie foxtrot that was already FUBAR before that.... then approached by some of those people I was probably going to receive a kill order for...allowed to void the contract.... and am now having a civil conversation and life advice with while a teenage Warchief snoops with all the subtlety of my 8-year old niece."

Sekla Bloodthirst: "Um... sorry again..."

'Kylee Kende': "Heh. No offense, ma'am. But I don't think you've a career as an assassin ahead of you."

Alstroemeria: to Sekla "Probably not. Shozin prefers variety."

Sekla Bloodthirst: "I'd much rather teach really..."

Alstroemeria: "In any case, that's the other thing that Shozin has taught me. That chaos and randomness create... unexpected opportunities. Like your strange week."

Sekla Bloodthirst: "Like partly selling your soul to an Archdaemon!"

'Kylee Kende': "Well, time to go, I suppose. Have to catch up to your daughter. After all, if she dies, you'll shove me into a hole where a sun once shone, right?"

Sekla Bloodthirst: "... I probably shouldn't say that with Max still around."

'Kylee Kende': "Wait..... what."

Alstroemeria: ".... I don't think I've heard this tale yet. Did it happen while I was... gone?"

'Kylee Kende': "....Okaaay. Anyways, I'd like to talk to you again, sometime. This was oddly pleasant. Might even become pen pals. I get what you mean about kids, though. And risking it. I'll think about it, see if I can get a hold of Elly. She how it worked out for her. Good luck." teleports

Sekla Bloodthirst: "... Oh right. You weren't there. Or it kinda happened a bit after you got taken away. One of Germaine's friends hit us with a spell that damages everyone who isn't a believer, but gives you the option of... 'converting'. Which I took, and then I got an audience for Szuriel for doing that. We made a deal. That's the whole reason Max went to try and destroy the altar."

Alstroemeria: "What was the deal?"

Sekla Bloodthirst: "She told me about the stones we needed to stop the Oinodaemon's avatar. And who has her own stone, as well as giving me a boon of some kind. In exchange for slaughtering the whole council once we get there. So my soul isn't hers, but she kind of left a mark that Max sensed."

Alstroemeria: "Which we were planning to do anyways. ... are these related to the Hellstone? One for each deacon?"

....
OOC: More followed with Germaine.

**Thrair** · 2019-04-06, 06:30 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: OOC

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Alrighty. Commence the PbP intermission!

Alstromeria
Alstroemeria's teleportation brings her efficiently to the family manor in Karvosa. Though frequently traveling and maintaining an active political presence in Cheliax itself, Lady Eliasia preferred to spend her time in the more distant vassal city-state. As much to avoid being a directly involved in political struggles within Cheliax as for its proximity to the university founded roughly a century prior by Lady Jessa Leroung. With her disappearance and purported assassination, her eldest daughter Kerisa had been swift to take charge. Always an especially diligent student to both Alstroemeria and her mother, she shared much of her mother's ideology and talent for Chelish politics, but was far less inclined to her mother's patient approach. Her more outwardly assertive nature would lead to political confrontations in short order, though thankfully fewer from within the family than from without.

Characteristically of her, in the absence of those to whom it mattered, she bypassed common master-servant formalities and greeted Alstroemeria herself in the manor's main lobby.
"Come. Quickly, if you would. I need you to inform me of recent events abroad, especially regarding your newfound alliances. Our home country is acting far too quickly, and I will need to respond accordingly. Especially-"

"Before my own reports reach our Queen?" Alstroemeria's attention was drawn to a man well past the prime of youth, but with a build that belied an effort to maintain fitness despite the slow decay of advancing years. His tone was jovial, but his expression markedly somber. Eliasia grimaced momentarily, but masked her annoyance with a practiced smile used among Chelish nobility, turning to the man whom had interrupted her.

"A breach of etiquette, to interrupt a fellow noble as they address a slave. And with bold words, no less." By contrast, her cheerful expression was paired with a bitingly sardonic tone. Little signs of body language Alstroemeria had come to know well of her former student informed her that the man was a source of frustration to Kerisa, but of the kind she viewed as a personal challenge rather than a threat.

"More of a servant to you, I think.... but I accept the rebuke. One yields to the authority of a fellow noble within their own house. Might I introduce myself, ma'am?"

"Certainly, Lord Authmar."

"Greetings, Alstroemeria. I am Vice-Marshall Lucien Authmar, section-chief of Chelish Intelligence, the branch of which is of little import. You may or may not have heard of me, but I have most certainly heard of you. I'm afraid your activities, while valuable and reflecting well upon your House.... will require closer oversight than they have had going forward."

"Indeed, but that discussion will wait. Alstromeria, would you kindly provide us with a report while we head to my mother's study?"

---

Velion & Sekla

Caedor watched Gwyneth's limp form with a hard expression. Visibly forcing himself to relax, he took out a pipe and filled it generously before retreating to a corner of the room, observing.
"She will awaken shortly, confronted with acts now anathema to this new self. I shall have to weigh the torment inflicted upon her fractured pysche against whatever satisfaction might be gleaned from rendering the very essence of her being to ash."

Germaine stood, his posture rigid and formal. Beside him, Morda grimaced with distaste.
"Well it's done, isn't it? She's gone. Bad way to go, not that it wasn't completely and utterly deserved. None of us is a saint, but she was a real monster. Won't lie, though, Gem... I've an acrid taste in my mouth."

"Mm..."

Abruptly, Gwyneth began coughing, picking herself up from the floor and trying to stand, before falling to one knee and throwing up. Raising her head, her gaze darted about the room, her eyes wide and filled with panic.
"S-s-s-sm-sm..... sm-m-mm-moke. S-smoke. N-need a-a smoke."

**Zerkai** · 2019-04-06, 07:41 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Thrair

Caedor watched Gwyneth's limp form with a hard expression. Visibly forcing himself to relax, he took out a pipe and filled it generously before retreating to a corner of the room, observing.
"She will awaken shortly, confronted with acts now anathema to this new self. I shall have to weigh the torment inflicted upon her fractured pysche against whatever satisfaction might be gleaned from rendering the very essence of her being to ash."

Sekla narrowed her eyes at Caedor, glancing at Germaine and Morda for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. "It is as she said, Caedor; The old Gwenyth went out a bad way, and paid it with more than simply death. Please refrain from damaging this new person, I've already been in enough unwinnable fights with ancient dragons to last a lifetime..." she said it with the same resignation she had when they started this, her tone telling that she expected a proper fight with Caedor to go the same way.

Originally Posted by Thrair

Abruptly, Gwyneth began coughing, picking herself up from the floor and trying to stand, before falling to one knee and throwing up. Raising her head, her gaze darted about the room, her eyes wide and filled with panic.
"S-s-s-sm-sm..... sm-m-mm-moke. S-smoke. N-need a-a smoke."

The warchief turns her attention to Gwyneth, kneeling beside her again once she fell. "Shoot... that's another vice I haven't indulged in... I've only booze." She'd look to Germaine and Morda to see if they had any, as she hadn't seen Veras smoke, and she had a feeling Caedor wouldn't oblige.

**Reltzik** · 2019-04-08, 08:27 PM (ISO 8601)

Alstroemeria gave a quick curtsy to the Vice-Marshal. It wasn't the full obeisance he was entitled to, but the acting head of the house had set a tone of informality and was demanding her to walk, so it was the best she could do. That gave her a second to categorize her thoughts, after which she began responding to Lady Eliasa.

"Yes, milady. My report is quite lengthy, so I shall begin with a summary and then expand on any points which you might desire. I am also unsure which of my previous reports have yet to arrive and be decoded, so please accept my apologies if I review information you already possess.

"First, our enemies and their designs. Broadly speaking, they are the four daemon-worshipping cults that comprise the Harbingers of Fate, but more narrowly the two devoted to Apollyon and Trelmarixian are the driving force, while the others were pressured or forced to join. Each cult utilizes a manner of inheritable magical power, a daemonic blessing from its Horseman that transfers from host to host -- known as deacons -- over generations. Their powers are broad and varied, but each includes powerful combat capabilities and the ability to automatically resurrect. Each deacon is tied to a weapon, such as the cursed sword Gram, as well as a stone of magical power. The deacons hold high rank within the cults, but are ultimately controlled by the leadership.

"The Harbingers' goal is the creation of a new deacon empowered by the Fifth Horseman, the Oinodaemon. I still have not learned the exact magics they intended to use, but in broad terms they intended to reconfigure the ley lines around the Inner Sea to feed power into the ritual to summon the Oinodaemon's power, use the spirits of venerable monsters to tempt the Oinodaemon into this world and into a host, and then use the existing deacons to seal that power in place and control it.

"To this end, they have performed various rituals to alter the ley lines, including the butchery and plague at Brastlewark. The lines now converge on Absalom, which has fallen under Harbinger control and is even more heavily fortified than normal. The populous, we have been informed, are subject to magical control, and the Harbinger Council itself operates out of a demiplane accessible from the city. They have also sought to spread war and disease among their potential enemies and seize key points in the region such as Ardellon, which contains subterranean ruins that were the seat of their deacon powers. They also sought to reclaim the deacons' weapons and stones, which includes the Hellstone that Cheliax uncovered some years ago, and which I fear I mistook a different stone for when I 'returned' it. Their means of acting have been a mix of elite strike forces including deacons, the Absolami military, mercenaries, traitors, and a high number of geased victims.

"Second, our response. Broadly speaking, we have been on the defensive, seeking to withstand and to a degree undo their activities as well as identifying the true threat and degrading it as best possible. Notably, we have sought allies against them. In addition to the draft treaty with Andoran, we have a firm alliance with Ardellon and the Northern hobgoblin tribes, and the firewyrms Amanaxys and Selmorak -- there is a valuable contract I have lined up there, but that can wait -- who were intended as sacrifices. There was also an alliance with what is now revealed to be the Syndicate, which has betrayed us and was working with the Harbingers from the beginning, though to what degree is uncertain. We also have the beginnings of common cause with the Dwarven kingdoms, the venerable crag sigil Ur Alagzand, and an ecumenical council of many regional churches who were caught up in the mess at Ardellon. Once we learned of the ruins beneath Ardellon we made many forays therein, gathering intelligence and damaging the ability of the deacons to resurrect after death. We also sought to divide our enemies, laying a basis of trust and mutual respect with the cult of Szuriel.

"I was captured at the battle of Ardellon. Lady Samiya was also kidnapped, and the city has been evacuated. Following my seizure the deacon of Charon was permanently slain, and Charon's power was taken up by Vellion Thornson. Following that my comrades set a trap at the spellscar at the site of Tûr-Thavron. Casualties were heavy on both sides, but there were three key results. First, the capture of the cultist mercenary who operates as the key to the Harbinger Council's demiplane, meaning that we can now assault their seat of power directly if we can reach Absolam. Second, the deacon of Apollyon was slain permanently and his power lost to the spellscar. Without his power, the Council's plans to control the Oinodaemon's power are impossible, meaning they have failed the plan completely and the results of the summoning ritual, already underway and unstoppable, are likely to be unpleasant. And third, with the failure of the Council's goals, the phrasing of the magical compulsion used to control the deacons of Szuriel has been invalidated. They acted swiftly to betray the Harbingers once free to do so, assassinating many of their agents and divulging considerable intelligence, and may now be counted as allies in this fight. I was in their possession at the time for interrogation, and my memories of the process are foggy and incomplete due to the drugs they employed and so I cannot vouch with any certainty that I revealed nothing. However, their defection means it is unlikely that any intelligence they may have gleaned from me will have passed to the enemy. Once they defected, I was promptly freed.

"At present, the Harbingers are on the defensive. Only the deacon of Trelmarixian remains in their ranks and he is unable to resurrect. However, they still have complete control over Absalom. In order to end this the intention is to seize Absalom, eliminate the Harbinger Council, and do something about the Oinodaemon. We are presently preparing for a large-scale military assault upon the Isle of Kortos and, from there, Absalom. I am here to report in, coordinate the muster and transport of any forces Cheliax is willing and able to commit to the assault, and if time permits see if anything might be done about Gorthacleck's banishment. And, of course, perform any other duties and tasks that I might be assigned."

Spoiler: OOC

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Hopefully I was able to pace that wall of text so that the biggest bombshells didn't come out until we got to the study and its presumptive defenses against scrying. And yes, that was the SUMMARY.

**TiaC** · 2019-04-08, 09:59 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Zerkai

Sekla narrowed her eyes at Caedor, glancing at Germaine and Morda for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh. "It is as she said, Caedor; The old Gwenyth went out a bad way, and paid it with more than simply death. Please refrain from damaging this new person, I've already been in enough unwinnable fights with ancient dragons to last a lifetime..." she said it with the same resignation she had when they started this, her tone telling that she expected a proper fight with Caedor to go the same way.

"Quite. I had a part in creating this new person and I have a responsibility to her. Besides, she's family and the Thornsens look out for each other."

"Ah, damn." Velion glances at Germaine. "Do you know who has her things? I think Dormin might have searched her?" He kneels next to Gweneth and pulls a cigar out of nothing. "Here Gwen, it will only last a while, but it's real for that time."

Telepathically to Sekla ~Magical healing can remove addiction like any other disease. Can't say how she'd feel about it, but you could try.~

He pulls the helmet from her head, considers it for a moment, glances around at the others and then just holds it dangling from his fingers.

Spoiler

Show

Ectoplasmic Trinket to create a cigar worth 1gp. (this is the price given for 2lbs of tobacco, so it's a good one.) It will last 14 minutes.

**Thrair** · 2019-04-09, 07:21 PM (ISO 8601)

Sekla/Velion
Gwyneth snatches at the cigar without breaking eye contact with Velion, attempting to cast a spark spell and failing.

His brow furrowing, Germaine nodded loosely over his shoulder with a grunt. "A couple buildings that way. We've got most of her belongings. What's not with your verbose traveling companion, at least. I'm not quite sure what they took. Morda?"

"On it," she replied. A moment later, she nodded once. "Bond's still active on Bjaela. Will have her bring it all over when we clear... well.... clear her. Anything missing she'll be able to account for. If it's important, we can send to my opposite number there, maybe wrangle the despoiler of coffee, too. Sorry, poor taste. Just.... yeah.

"Mm..."

Gwyneth continued trying to cast her spell, finally triggering a reaction from Caedor, who had previously sat motionless, gazed fixed upon the struggling woman. Uttering a muted snarl, he lifted his palm in her direction, abruptly stabilizing the spell and directing it towards her cigar. "Is it even cantrips that are now beyond your ability? Pathetic." As Gwyneth's rapid breaths began to eat into the cigar, he spared a sidelong glance towards Sekla. "Fear not for a lack of restraint on my part, Sekla. In no small part due to her visible suffering, her continued breath remains somewhat justified. Besides.... she is the one who will guide us to the halls of her masters, with whom I have issue. 'An eye for an eye', as Amanaxys would say.

Struggling to speak with her gaze still fixed upon Velion, Gwyneth managed to choke out three words.
"I'll try. Please."

Alstroemeria
As Kerisa seated herself behind her mother's desk, Lord Authmar withdrew a mithril pipe and placed it in his his mouth, though he made no move to fill it.
"Ah. 'Gorthoklekk', actually. Your accent is somewhat mangling the middle of his name, softening what is otherwise quite guttural. I don't care, myself, but you should pronounce it correctly when you meet. He is surprisingly patient, but his memory for insult is long and you must not confuse his patience for tolerance. Alas, his presence is still sorely missed. And this report explains much of events at the spellscar of the Chateau ruins. Since the last evening, attempts to divine the area have been met with failure. Physical observations have proven even less effective. Something now resides in the spellscar, and any approaching are drawn within. It bodes ill. To say nothing of the rest of your report. Which forces our hand, I think?."

Withdrawing his pipe and tipping it towards Alstroemeria, he turned to Lady Kerisa. "Your last chance, ma'am. If you would rather....", he asked, leaving the question hanging.

"Damnation", she swore. "No. These events outweigh other concerns. I trust her to make the same judgement in turn. Consider the offer of temporary reinstatement accepted, Vice-Marshall." Intoning a word of power under her breath, her eyes briefly flashed a vibrant red, and she clutched the bridge of her nose.

"A pity," he said, frowning at Alstroemeria and handing her a dark metal badge, "However I'm afraid we lack for options. Take this, if you please. It will require a small drop of your blood, which you will imbibe and then proceed to intone the phrase 'I am contracted for knowledge.' In Infernal would be traditional, but others favour their native tongue. With that, you will be inducted as a member of Chelish Intelligence, under binding Infernal Contract. Said contract is, of course, insufficient to lay claim to your soul, especially given we do not offer you choice in the matter.... but it will ensure treachery is... ill-advised. As I said, we lack for options. But I think it a courtesy to inform you of the ramifications, slave or not."

**Reltzik** · 2019-04-10, 06:02 AM (ISO 8601)

Alstroemeria picked up the ring and gave it a magical examination, not because she was concerned it was a trap, but out of concern that it might interact unfavorably with Selmorak's ring network, operating as it did on similar lines. "It has been a while since I practiced more than a few words at a time in Infernal," she said, eyeing the ring. "I shall have to repair the accent."

((Assuming the ring doesn't seem likely to interact poorly with the ring network....))

"I will of course need full knowledge of this contract's terms before I can be expected to honor them." That was not so much a demand as a standard disclaimer.

Alstroemeria readied to put on the ring, and then glanced to Lady Kerisa for a nod of approval. She'd said some things that sounded like acceptance, but Alstroemeria wasn't privy to their full context and so had not explicitly received the order. She could not do this without her owners' permission. Then ((assuming Kerisia gave the go-ahead)), she slipped on the ring and spoke the words in Infernal, carefully policing any accent in her words.

Spoiler: OOC

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It's not so much that Alstroemeria's declining to dither over the contract, as she has a rough idea what's happening and trusts Kerisa to have hammered out the details already, including most of the disclaimers. This especially includes all the details about what rights Alstroemeria retains despite being a slave, since those are liabilities accompanying a transferred or leased asset and must be disclosed to avoid accusations of fraud. Particularly, since I don't think I've ever spelled it out, those rights include retention of her own soul (both in ownership and in not being required to perform tasks that would certainly jeopardize it), the right to not worship as she desires (though Leroung can bar her from engaging in religions as it deems fit, it cannot compel her to participate in religion), fair treatment commensurate with her service and loyalty, and some spare hours of free time in which she is permitted the time, resources, and opportunity to conduct research, though this time may be deferred during emergencies.

**Zerkai** · 2019-04-11, 12:02 AM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by TiaC

"Quite. I had a part in creating this new person and I have a responsibility to her. Besides, she's family and the Thornsens look out for each other."

Telepathically to Sekla ~Magical healing can remove addiction like any other disease. Can't say how she'd feel about it, but you could try.~

"Responsible... that's a good way to put it, yeah." Sekla gave a nod before looking at Gwyneth with some worry. She'll take a few steps back so as not to crowd her and let Velion handle this for the time being. Given what had trasnpired between her and Gwyneth just now, she wasn't sure if she'd want to talk to the person who did this to her.

Originally Posted by Thrair

Sekla/Velion
Gwyneth snatches at the cigar without breaking eye contact with Velion, attempting to cast a spark spell and failing.

"On it," she replied. A moment later, she nodded once. "Bond's still active on Bjaela. Will have her bring it all over when we clear... well.... clear her. Anything missing she'll be able to account for. If it's important, we can send to my opposite number there, maybe wrangle the despoiler of coffee, too. Sorry, poor taste. Just.... yeah.

"Mm..."

Gwyneth continued trying to cast her spell, finally triggering a reaction from Caedor, who had previously sat motionless, gazed fixed upon the struggling woman. Uttering a muted snarl, he lifted his palm in her direction, abruptly stabilizing the spell and directing it towards her cigar. "Is it even cantrips that are now beyond your ability? Pathetic." As Gwyneth's rapid breaths began to eat into the cigar, he spared a sidelong glance towards Sekla. "Fear not for a lack of restraint on my part, Sekla. In no small part due to her visible suffering, her continued breath remains somewhat justified. Besides.... she is the one who will guide us to the halls of her masters, with whom I have issue. 'An eye for an eye', as Amanaxys would say.

Struggling to speak with her gaze still fixed upon Velion, Gwyneth managed to choke out three words.
"I'll try. Please."

She also held off on her offer to heal Gwyenth for the time being, looking to her now red eye from the popped blood vessel, and no doubt there were cuts on the palms of her hands from clenching her fists so hard. She wouldn't interrupt this moment though.

**TiaC** · 2019-04-12, 03:27 PM (ISO 8601)

Looking a bit uncomfortable, Velion leans closer to Gweneth. "Alright. It's okay, just breathe. How are you feeling? What do you need?" He's floundering a bit in a difficult social situation.

He reaches out telepathically to Sekla ~Help, I'm terrible at this, I have no idea what I'm doing.~

**Thrair** · 2019-04-13, 12:11 PM (ISO 8601)

Alstroemeria

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Badge, not ring. Alstroemeria's cursory examination shows that it, similar to the ring, is designed to contain a small sample of liquid; in this case blood. However, it does not appear intended to be worn. Strangely, the bulk of its aura is divination and conjuration magic, with a lesser undertone of abjuration.

Authmar chuckled, giving Alstroemeria a wry grimace. "Under ordinary circumstances, yes. But this isn't made with the same intent as most infernal pledges. I'm incapable of mustering the raw power to manifest the magicks myself, or at least not without participating in an arcane circle. But.... I am thoroughly educated in the mechanics and underlying principles of their operation. This badge is a check, not a token of authority. You will not keep it. What it does is, when set into another arcane device at an undisclosed location, track you and periodically divine your commitment to your duties. Should you fail such a query, it will alert you, as well as a specific branch of Chelish Intelligence. Unless prevented from operating, it will then begin creating an unending stream of vicious little bastards to hunt you down. And I mean unending. Either you would surrender, or you would be ground into exhaustion and left to their mercy. I've witnessed the former on several occasions, mostly from lapses of judgement and not treachery. The latter, just once."

Taking back the badge, he brought himself to manage a sincere smile. "Of course, this is not a threat so much as a lecture on how to safeguard yourself from this failsafe. You are both brilliant and loyal, but should you somehow act contrary to our goals, unintentionally I am sure, you will have a small window of time to present yourself before Internal Affairs. Or to flee and prepare your defenses, which would be such a waste of talent, if informative. Still... welcome to Chelish Intelligence Warrant Officer... hm... generally we refer to officers by their *last* name. I admit, despite examining your dossier, I don't remember reading it, just a moniker of a sorts mockingly referring to your need for spectacles. Have you a preference? Now that we are all instated or reinstated, I do wish to begin discussing more important matters, especially regarding the, ahem.... 'hellstone' that was returned to us. That and, of course, hear your thoughts on deep-state theory."

The latter comment elicited a groan from Lady Kerisa, who gave Authmar a withering look.

Sekla/Velion

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Gonna be lotta asterisks to avoid profanity filter on her, you bet your ass.
EDIT: Corrected massive error with Caedor using an anti-magic field in an enclosed space. I had a cold this weekend, and lack of sleep made me forget the ramifications of that. I was trying to hurry through the "bypass the secrecy geas" BS so you all could get to the good parts, while also getting a chance to hint at the downsides to that spell for the two geriatric wyrms. Alas.

Gwyneth paused for a moment, taking slow breaths and steadying herself as much as she could manage. "How the f**k do you *think* I feel? I don't.... I can't talk about feelings right now, alright!? Coffee... I need coffee..... and my f**king spellbook. I can't do much to help until I can prepare magicks. F**k, I need time to think."

"We don't have time for anything but the coffee. And it's military coffee. Sorry. Selmorak? A field of anti-magic, her location." Caedor fixed Germaine with a condescending and expectant stare, but did not move, continuing to puff away at his pipe. Groaning, Germaine sighed and tried again, affecting a haughty tone and exaggeratedly precise enunciation. "Fine... Lord Semorak, if you would kindly acquiesce to my request for a demonstration of your profound command over magicks and the ability to remove them from such lesser beings as surround you, it would greatly aid us in acquiring information to enable your assault upon those hapless and cowering fools with whom you have grievances, such is their terrible folly."

Finished, Germaine settled into a frustrated scowl. Perhaps a sign of the herb taking effect, Caedor allowed himself a small smile. "Hm. Such courtesy! Very well, I would be remiss as to not reward such a shocking display of learned vocabulary from one such as yourself with such a trivial act." Standing from his seat upon the barrel, he broke out into a hearty chuckle, a brow arched heavily. "Of course, I rather think there will not be room enough for both myself and the... aheh.... room."

Blinking once, Germaine uttered a series of curses under his breath, glaring as Morda burst out into laughter. "Heh.... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping he'd forget, Gem. You've been having trouble with cramped spaces lately, haven't you?

"Cold, Morda. Even from you. Hell with it. I'm going to meet Bjaela half-way. Get that spellbook and some damned coffee."

"Don't worry, I've picked up that trick myself just this week. I think I've the knack for it, now."

Germaine's head started abruptly at that. "You have? I'm impressed. Not a mean feat of magic, that. Still, I want that coffee." He shook his head as he climbed the stairs. "Agh, I'm too young for senility to be set in."

Her chuckle faltering as she strode over to Gwyneth, Morda sighed and cast an anti-magic field, her posture assuming a more rigid and formal stance. From his corner of the room, Caedor snarled lightly. "Speak, enlightened one."

Locking her gaze with Caedor, Gwyneth's expression hardened briefly, with some of the horror giving way to defiance. "Right. ...Right. Ok. She turned to Velion and Sekla with another steadying breath, her expression more focused. "Gods, where to begin?"

**Zerkai** · 2019-04-15, 02:39 AM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by TiaC

Looking a bit uncomfortable, Velion leans closer to Gweneth. "Alright. It's okay, just breathe. How are you feeling? What do you need?" He's floundering a bit in a difficult social situation.

He reaches out telepathically to Sekla ~Help, I'm terrible at this, I have no idea what I'm doing.~

~I'll try. The problem is putting too much pressure on her, she's processing a lot, and she'll have to deal with it a lot faster than she should.~ Sekla would respond, letting out a small sigh before letting the others and Gwyneth speak.

Originally Posted by Thrair

Alstroemeria
Sekla/Velion

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Gonna be lotta asterisks to avoid profanity filter on her, you bet your ass.

Gwyneth paused for a moment, taking slow breaths and steadying herself as much as she could manage. "How the f**k do you *think* I feel? I don't.... I can't talk about feelings right now, alright!? Coffee... I need coffee..... and my f**king spellbook. I can't do much to help until I can prepare magicks. F**k, I need time to think."

"We don't have time for anything but the coffee. And it's military coffee. Sorry. Selmorak? A field of anti-magic, her location." Caedor fixed Germaine with a condescending and expectant stare, but did not move, continuing to puff away at his pipe. Groaning, Germaine sighed and tried again, affecting a haughty tone and exaggeratedly precise enunciation. "Fine... Lord Semorak, if you would kindly acquiesce to my request for a demonstration of your profound command over magicks and the ability to remove them from such lesser beings as surround you, it would greatly aid us in acquiring information to enable your assault upon those hapless and cowering fools with whom you have grievances, such is their terrible folly."

Finished, Germaine settled into a frustrated scowl. Perhaps a sign of the herb taking effect, Caedor allowed himself a small smile. "Hm. Such courtesy! Very well, I would be remiss as to not reward such a shocking display of learned vocabulary from one such as yourself with such a trivial act. Grasping a barrel with one hand, the wood creaking under the weight of the contents, Caedor cast an anti-magic field and walked over to Gwyneth. His features settling into a renewed glare, though lessened, he set the barrel down and sat gingerly upon it. "Speak."

Locking her gaze with Caedor, Gwyneth's expression hardened briefly, with some of the horror giving way to defiance. "Right. ...Right. Ok. She turned to Velion and Sekla with another steadying breath, her expression more focused. "Gods, where to begin?"

While the others speak, Sekla would be going through her bag of holding for the time being, which was of course filled with many mundane things. In this case, she was in the process of moving several armchairs out of the bag of holding This was all fine, until the table came out, and it came out loud. After Gwyneth's question, the sound of the dragging chair sounded loudly through the room until she was done. After a brief pause she sets a cask of ale on the table with a few mugs.

"Well you'll have some time, we're all going to need time to plan out our next move. One thing I suppose would be the location of the 'Gateway' That's been a pain for some time." She wasn't even looking at Gwyneth as she casually pulled out a few packages of various rations, and several wooden boxes.

If they were most likely still looking at her incredulously, she'd just hold one of the game boxes up. "Hnefatafl. It's an old Dwarven game. Two players. The invaders at the sides of the board have to get past the king's guard in the center. And defenders have to move the king to safety. The game ends when the king is trapped by invaders, or the king escapes to one of the corners of the board!"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Imagine the chair-dragging scene from the first Men-in-Black movie.

**Reltzik** · 2019-04-15, 03:44 PM (ISO 8601)

"My connection to my birth family is dead and buried in a bygone age," Alstroemeria said as she handed it back. "I forswore the name when I sold myself to a different family. Warrant Officer Alstroemeria shall suffice.

"As for the magical mechanisms of the badge, it still seems I will require some specification of what my duties are, and if I should lapse due to an absence or imprecision in that specification then that must suffice as a defense before Internal Affairs. Unless that is the divination operates entirely on the subject's general intent and loyalty, without considering exact adherence to terms of duty or the particular details of assignments. I must also inquire what occurs if the divination component fails to operate properly. In past weeks I have often had the need to shield myself against divination. Are there protective spells I must avoid, or a range limitation I must remain in? Would traveling to another plane prevent the divination and thereby trigger the consequences? If so, this would significantly handicap my service moving forward.

"As for deep state theory, my views on it are nuanced, ambivalent, and evolving, and I suspect a new perspective would evolve them further. The implications of the magical enforcement of loyalties represented by this badge alone would be worth a half dozen papers if I were more qualified... though I suspect they'd be allowed only limited circulation. Normally I'd be delighted to have a conversation on the topic with someone in a position to see matters from a different angle than myself, but in light of the present emergency's urgency I don't imagine it a valuable use of time at present. ... unless it is immediately relevant in some regard?"

**Thrair** · 2019-04-15, 09:53 PM (ISO 8601)

Sekla/Velion
The appearance of assorted furniture and the accompanying ruckus focused much of the attention on Sekla. Even Gwyneth's expression turned to utter confusion, her mind briefly distracted from its turmoil. An awkward silence lingered, until Morda pulled up a chair and set her feet on the table, eyeing the cards with interest.
"Damn, girl... you are a heartbreaker. Dormin loves this game. He was already sweet on your dwarf disguise, this would just add fuel to the fire. 'Kogg and I play it now and then, but neither of us likes playing against Dormin. He'd be a contender for a Grandmaster ranking in Highhelm if it wasn't for all the family politics crap. ...Just don't play it against Jess. Kid's not good at playing and even worse at losing. Anyways, go on Gwyn. Wish we had time to let things sink it, but..."

Gwyneth nodded, slumping heavily into the chair and closing her eyes.
"Ok... right.... the gateway. Barbarus has been leading some cultist nutjobs in manipulating leylines to create a portal network to quickly move forces around and bring in large numbers of daemons from Abaddon itself. This network contains the nexus for my own spell to open a gate to the Harbinger's 'Grand Citadel', the access point of the bloody thing being in Absalom itself, though it's exact location does move around annoyingly. Unfortunately, being paranoid prats, they do not allow this nexus to remain stable for long, and the spell can only be successfully cast for a short window after the leylines are shifted, a process that uses a bigass network of rather unwieldy controlling devices within the city, as well as key leyline hubs throughout the rest of the island. As the designated "Gatekeeper", I can track when this nexus is accessible and can teleport to it at will when it is, despite the island-wide abjuration created by the leylines. But the spell takes a long f**king time to cast, and I doubt they're gonna risk realigning the leylines again with me captured and... apparently Germaine and his people switching sides."

Morda scoffed, her palm cradling her temple.
"Oi.... and even less likely with Isegar's death and the destruction of his powers. They're going to bunker up and ride this out if they can.

Gwyneth's eyes opened in surprise, and she paused for a moment to assess this new information. "OK, yeah. That's... wow. Their plan is assf**ked six ways from Elysium. No way in hell are they doing anything but sit in their rathole with whatever they've got left. Plus side is, that means they probably aren't in a good position to make adjustments to the demiplane. And they can't get a new gatekeeper until I die or relinquish it, which is biting them in the ass right now. I can't be forced to open a gate under duress..... but.... gods, you found a loophole for that." She looked thoroughly miserable as her eyes strayed to Velion. "Kiddo, I'm so f**king sorry. I'll..... F**k.... Get me access to that stable nexus, and I'll ring that bloody doorbell if it's the last thing I f**king do. I f**king swear it."

Alstroemeria
"Quite right, Warrant Officer Alstroemeria - Hm, that does sound odd. - It is very relevant. But allow me to put a pin in that for just a moment. The badge itself would be significantly hampered by such protections and evasions... were it functioning alone. Suffice to say, the artifact it will affixed to is somewhat more.... reliable. Anything that could interfere with its divinations would make acting upon them futile. It is mighty, not foolproof. Gorthoklekk himself threatened to disable it if necessary. No... range and mundane protections won't impede you in the slightest. And, again, it will alert you should you violate the vague terms of this 'contract'. Most who surrender are pardoned for their lapses, provided the mistakes were not inexcusable. We don't discard valuable agents at the first sign of failure. Failures are inevitable, no? Also, we find it far easier to correct these operational errors when the agents in question are willing to return and detail them."

Kerisa nodded, the glow in her eyes fading. "And retirement is possible, though as you have seen not always a permanent state of affairs. I was an adjutant and Captain in the Varisian branch of Chelish Intelligence, though my own noble rank nominally outweighs that. You'll find Chelish Intelligence is rather independent of the Central Commons, and they select for pragmatists with a longer view than most of the nobles. Which is why many of our house hold positions in various branches-"

"Allowing House Leroung to influence policy in a way benefiting them?" Authmar finished. He grinned as Kerisa rolled her eyes impatiently, then raised a reassuring palm towards Alstroemeria. "Don't worry. We allow for private motivations and loyalties, provided they do not come at an excessive cost to Cheliax as a whole. Indeed, we believe those that can balance personal obligations with their duties have earned the rewards. Which brings me to deep-state theory. Chelish Intelligence does not give a damn, pardon my repeated language, about the Central Commons, whose infighting rarely benefits Cheliax. And while we respect the authority of the Queen, we also find her less likely to object to results and more likely to object to activities that achieve them. I trust you see our dilemma. On a different topic, while godly accords would never allow Gorthoklekk to take an active leadership role in this plane, he greatly advises our agencies. Yet he is aware that informing the Queen of our activities can often result in a rather heavy-handed response from our imperious monarch. I trust you see his dilemma."

"The doublespeak is hardly necessary, Vice-Marshal Authmar. It fools none and wastes time."

"Of course, my Lady Leroung.... But it is ever so much fun, and the lovely Alstromeria here is a poet with words, I cannot help but leap at the opportunity."

"Ever the shameless flirt, Lucien."

Authmar grinned at Alstroemeria, his demeanor having grown relaxed. "Only with such charming women as command such attentions." He nodded, setting aside the playful attitude for a moment. "Does this satisfy your initial queries?"

**Reltzik** · 2019-04-16, 06:30 AM (ISO 8601)

"There are many more details I should like to delve into, not the least of which, given that Chelish Intelligence works for the benefit of Cheliax, is the question of what exactly constitutes Cheliax, philosophically speaking. Is it Her Majesty? The government and aristocracy? Its inhabitants in general? The land? The traditions and culture? Some gestalt of all of them?"

Alstroemeria was getting a dangerous talk-forever-about-nothing gleam in her eyes, but then gave a wistful sigh and ratcheted it back. "But that may be another thing that must wait for a more idle time, after more energetic pursuits are brought to fruition and we seek for quieter discourse to fill the void left in their wake."

While Lady Kerisa might disdain the "doublespeak", it would no doubt be a useful skill going forward, and Alstroemeria could see value in practicing it even in the moments it was not needed. And she could still flirt, middle age be damned. But there was no need to subject Kerisa to something she disliked. Or even rub her nose in it.

"In light of the pace of events, suppose the only thing I urgently need to know is how my existing activities are to be modified, beyond the of-course redundant addition of Intelligence's mandate to serve Cheliax."

**TiaC** · 2019-04-16, 07:01 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Thrair

Sekla/Velion
Gwyneth paused for a moment, taking slow breaths and steadying herself as much as she could manage. "How the f**k do you *think* I feel? I don't.... I can't talk about feelings right now, alright!? Coffee... I need coffee..... and my f**king spellbook. I can't do much to help until I can prepare magicks. F**k, I need time to think."

"****, not feelings, capability. You seem pretty ****ed up, is that just emotional or are there other reasons too?"

Originally Posted by Zerkai

~I'll try. The problem is putting too much pressure on her, she's processing a lot, and she'll have to deal with it a lot faster than she should.~ Sekla would respond, letting out a small sigh before letting the others and Gwyneth speak.

While the others speak, Sekla would be going through her bag of holding for the time being, which was of course filled with many mundane things. In this case, she was in the process of moving several armchairs out of the bag of holding This was all fine, until the table came out, and it came out loud. After Gwyneth's question, the sound of the dragging chair sounded loudly through the room until she was done. After a brief pause she sets a cask of ale on the table with a few mugs.

"Well you'll have some time, we're all going to need time to plan out our next move. One thing I suppose would be the location of the 'Gateway' That's been a pain for some time." She wasn't even looking at Gwyneth as she casually pulled out a few packages of various rations, and several wooden boxes.

If they were most likely still looking at her incredulously, she'd just hold one of the game boxes up. "Hnefatafl. It's an old Dwarven game. Two players. The invaders at the sides of the board have to get past the king's guard in the center. And defenders have to move the king to safety. The game ends when the king is trapped by invaders, or the king escapes to one of the corners of the board!"

Velion bemusedly joins her at the table. ~I don't understand what you're doing, but it seems to be working.~ Aloud, he says "Yes, progress seems like a good idea. Let's define our objectives and work out a plan to reach them."

Originally Posted by Thrair

Sekla/Velion
The appearance of assorted furniture and the accompanying ruckus focused much of the attention on Sekla. Even Gwyneth's expression turned to utter confusion, her mind briefly distracted from its turmoil. An awkward silence lingered, until Morda pulled up a chair and set her feet on the table, eyeing the cards with interest.
"Damn, girl... you are a heartbreaker. Dormin loves this game. He was already sweet on your dwarf disguise, this would just add fuel to the fire. 'Kogg and I play it now and then, but neither of us likes playing against Dormin. He'd be a contender for a Grandmaster ranking in Highhelm if it wasn't for all the family politics crap. ...Just don't play it against Jess. Kid's not good at playing and even worse at losing. Anyways, go on Gwyn. Wish we had time to let things sink it, but..."

Gwyneth nodded, slumping heavily into the chair and closing her eyes.
"Ok... right.... the gateway. Barbarus has been leading some cultist nutjobs in manipulating leylines to create a portal network to quickly move forces around and bring in large numbers of daemons from Abaddon itself. This network contains the nexus for my own spell to open a gate to the Harbinger's 'Grand Citadel', the access point of the bloody thing being in Absalom itself, though it's exact location does move around annoyingly. Unfortunately, being paranoid prats, they do not allow this nexus to remain stable for long, and the spell can only be successfully cast for a short window after the leylines are shifted, a process that uses a bigass network of rather unwieldy controlling devices within the city, as well as key leyline hubs throughout the rest of the island. As the designated "Gatekeeper", I can track when this nexus is accessible and can teleport to it at will when it is, despite the island-wide abjuration created by the leylines. But the spell takes a long f**king time to cast, and I doubt they're gonna risk realigning the leylines again with me captured and... apparently Germaine and his people switching sides."

Morda scoffed, her palm cradling her temple.
"Oi.... and even less likely with Isegar's death and the destruction of his powers. They're going to bunker up and ride this out if they can.

Gwyneth's eyes opened in surprise, and she paused for a moment to assess this new information. "OK, yeah. That's... wow. Their plan is assf**ked six ways from Elysium. No way in hell are they doing anything but sit in their rathole with whatever they've got left. Plus side is, that means they probably aren't in a good position to make adjustments to the demiplane. And they can't get a new gatekeeper until I die or relinquish it, which is biting them in the ass right now. I can't be forced to open a gate under duress..... but.... gods, you found a loophole for that." She looked thoroughly miserable as her eyes strayed to Velion. "Kiddo, I'm so f**king sorry. I'll..... F**k.... Get me access to that stable nexus, and I'll ring that bloody doorbell if it's the last thing I f**king do. I f**king swear it."

Velion looks uncomfortable with emotions happening. "No, no apologies. You have done nothing to be sorry for and blaming you would be, unjust doesn't really describe it." He then visibly changes focus. "So, I'm not quite clear about this. If we get to the nexus in Absalom, can you get us in, or will we have to hope that it's stable or failing that, seize the controlling devices and forcefully stabilize it? If we can't be assured that it will be stable, then we'll have to achieve much better control over the island and the city. Now, the loss of their gatekeeper means that we probably don't need to be especially fast about accessing it, as they can't really escape. I would also be interested in going over the portal's magic, as demiplanes and gateways are something of a speciality of mine. The other issue I see is that geas. It's going to be a problem if we can only talk about this in antimagic. I have some thoughts about removing it, but I'll need to know more about it."

He turns to Germaine "On a more grounded note, what forces are under your control and able to assist in this conflict? We should be able to arrange transport as needed, but coordination and integrated command is going to be mainly your issue, because I shouldn't be trusted with it."

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