ꙮ Once more at the Obsidian Road. At some point, in the middle of the night (inasmuch as there is a night, or a middle, or anything, here - that’ll be a problem for the Beast to solve, probably, with their penchant for timekeeping, once they get here) the obsidian frame near the cobbled crossroads filled itself to the brim with solid-seeming shadow.
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#full cast session
#caion
#tana'loof
#chapter 6: valais
traces his hand around the edge of the gate, eyes dark, shadow flickering the wrong way–as much as there is a wrong way for a shadow to flicker in a place with no sun or stars or moon. Just getting a sense of it, it seems.
is slow dancing to a song playing softly in the background. His movements are fluid, form flitting across the ground in ways that don’t make sense for how his legs are moving. It’s that he gets there all the same which makes it hypnotizing.
: “Expecting a ball on the other side?”
ꙮ Wolf: The portal is strangely inviting. Perhaps not strangely; it’s not like an open door could ever be anything other than an invitation, is it? But even so.
twists in place to face Aury. “Kind of! It just makes sense, somehow.”
: “It’d be one heck of an entrance to show up in the middle of a filled ballroom, don’tcha think?” He twists back around, hands on his hips, smiling widely.
rushes out from the Ziggurat. She’s been frantically packing away various items she brought back from Almachadta. She comes out again, still wearing her clothes from the Beast with her cloak from Mu, a little frazzled but no worse for wear. “Hello!” She says, pressing a pomegranate into Awoken’s hand, then into Aurelius’, then into Wolf’s. “I brought snacks.*
: “I suppose it would, yeah.”
blinks, then his eyes lose that shadowy look as he smiles in delight. “Well, that’s a welcome treat.”
Walks out of the Ziggurat, to join everyone, adjusting his pack on his shoulder, and greets everyone with a wave.
: “Hello, sweet sparrow!” He happily takes the pomegranate, forming a thin razor of tenebrous gnosis at the tip of his finger, and begins to slice away the exterior in smooth motions.
: “Hi Dyu!” She hands him a pomegranate too, and then cracks her own open with just her thumbs.
glances down at the pomegranate, thinks back, thinks deep, to remember what the inside of a pomegranate looks like… then stares at Salme with an eyebrow raised.
saunters up to Salme. He does not want any of the pomegranate, but he wishes, very badly, to snoofle at it curiously. It is apparent by the wagging of his tail.
: “Hello, Salme!” he says before looking at what she placed in his hand. He turns it over in his claws, before following her example to crack it open.
is unselfconsciously picking out the individual arils from between the thick, structured membrane. She raises an eyebrow at Aurelius as she lets the Dog sniff the fruit. “There a problem?”
he stares at the jewels that are seeds inside the fruit, their color reminding him of the red jewels housed in the Temple. He takes a bite of them, and his eyes become alight at the flavor.
snoofles with joy and snoofles with vigour, and softly barks his approval, then wanders Wolfwards to gently head-butt him in the leg.
: “He thinks you’re reproducing the destruction of the worlds on a smaller scale,” he casually remarks to Salme.
: chuckles and scritches the Dog on the head, kneeling briefly to give a bit more scruffle. “Are you coming with us, or staying here, boy?”
blinks. “I really don’t think he does.” She scoops out a few more seeds. “Anyways, these are from the house I grew up in in Oaretsch, on the far side of Almachadta. I always thought they were the best pomegranates I’ve ever had.”
wags his tail, ambiguously. He’s getting scritches, that’s what his plan is for the next several moments. Anything beyond that point, we’ll see where things land.
ambles, very cheerfully, out from the Ziggurat, with a pack slung over his crystallized shoulder and his staff of office in his hand. “Hallo!”
: “I’ve never had a…pomegranate…before. They are -fascinating-, and -delicious-!”, he takes another bite of the seeds.
swallows hiss bite of pomegranate, and gives a wave. “Shade and Comfort, Caion!”
mumbles something about fruit for Standing Around Munching choices but mostly just shrugs and pockets the pomegranate.
makes steady eye contact at Aurelius and mouths the word “coward” before eating some more of hers. “Hi Caion! Gift for you.” She tucks the pomegranate into his pack. “Are you coming with?”
: “Absolutely delicious. If we’ve anymore, we must make a juice of them.” His finger tenebrou scalpel becomes a fingernail tenebrous scoop, plucking the seeds out without messying his cuffs.
, for his part, pockets the pomegranate–it IS a bit of a messy fruit to eat–but he’ll definitely want it later.
returns Salme’s gaze, producing an apple and taking a bite out of it. Amazingly free of effort or mess. Chew chew.
brightens joyfully at the sight of the pomegranate. “You were successful, then? Excellent. And, unfortunately, no, I’m on my way back to Samudra. The Academy’s formally transferred itself to Tulinsuojat for the time being, did you know that? I’ve got a little tent, it’s lovely. Anyways, Archie will be– Archie will be ready to join you all shortly.” He does not look smug. He is the picture of un-smugness.
notes that but does not feel the need to comment on it. Instead, she goes over and offers some of the pomegranate to Aurelius. “Trade you for some of you apple?”
: “Absolutely not.”
: “I’ll feed them to you seed by seed?” She wheedles.
takes a larger bite, then hands over the rest of the apple while shaking his head.
takes a bite of the apple, enjoying the crisp, sweet flavor after the complexity of the pomegranate, then hands it back to him. “Your loss,” she shrugs, and continues enjoying her delicious, if slightly messy, fruit.
shakes his head, holding up a hand. You get to live with these fruit decisions you have made.
is excited for his pomegranate, at any rate, but there’s no earthly way he could eat it until he’s back on Samudra, so.
glances at Aury. “Shouldn’t she be…the apple of your eye?” He looks very pleased with himself.
suddenly finds herself in a situation where she has two handfuls of fruit. She sighs, finishing the apple down to its core, and then disappearing the remainder to wherever waste goes, before going back to her pomegranate.
: “Don’t look at me, she’s the one that brought pomegranates to a standing room only gathering.”
grins shamelessly at Aury. “We do have a rather…seedy…aura.”
: “Oh huh… you don’t eat the cores?”
: “Ah, I see that’s just been escalating since you all left Samudra.” He grins at Wolf, amiably.
: “I mean, not the entire core no. Do you?”
snorts softly at Wolf’s joke, shaking his head, mutters quietly, “Yazhn and Yeresh, both.”
nods. “It’s all apple, yeah? I mean, spit the seeds, sure, but…”
: “Mmm…”
finally arrives, walking over from the Station. “I apologize for the delay. I had some business at home to attend to.”
: “The core is all… core-ey, though. There was a hydroponics team that spent a couple of decades trying to perfect a coreless apple and finally gave up and switched to more efficient production of apple juice.”
: “Hallo, Luĉja!”
: “I prefer not to have to spit the seeds. Or eat the stem?” She eats a couple more seeds, and deposits a pomegranate in Luĉja’s hand. “From Almachadta.” She also gives Caion a Look. “What’s wrong with a normal apple?”
shrugs expansively. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t okay that project.”
: “It’s a bit firmer, but no less sweet.” He taps the side of his cheek with his tenebrous scoop, idly getting pomegranate on his cheek. “I mean, okay, I also do the twisty thing with the stem and discard it…”
: “Hello, Friend-Caion. I don’t imagine we’ll have the chance to have you with us going to Valais?”
: “But even just a lil’ leafy bit at the ends isn’t a bother!”
: “I mean we just compost what we don’t eat? Though I guess maybe it seems decadent to discard edible bits.”
: “Alas, no, I’ve the evacuation to coördinate in Samudra. Which, I really ought to get going, I told them I’d be returning, eh, a few hours ago.”
just eyes Caion, looking very amused. “Shirking, Acting-Academician? How unlike you.”
waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll write myself a permission slip.”
snickers. “It’s good to be the king.”
: “It turns out you can just do things and it’ll work out!”
: “Exactly.”
: “But, I did want the chance to see you all off, or at least say goodbye before I headed to the station. It was lovely to get to see all of you again–“ -and he turns towards Dyu- “–and to get to meet you, I’ve got so many annoying questions to ask you about your plane. But, that will come once we’ve all had a chance to catch our breaths, I imagine.”
: “Always have that burger. Always ask the question. You don’t know if it’ll be the last time…”
: “…but nah we got time. We can always make time.”
certainly had priorities with regards to how he spent his time on the Obsidian Road, yes, and he hasn’t got a single regret. “Anyways, if any of you need to find me, you know where to look. Salme, I know we’ll stay in touch.” He smiles.
he turns to Caion with a smile, “It was a pleasure to get to meet you as well! I’m certain I have just as many questions for you about your own plane, so we’ll definitely have to circle back to it.”
briefly but vividly comprehends the degree to which Yazhn Dyu would absolutely kill it in a Circle meeting and just makes a note of that for sometime later when interplanar travel is even less fraught.
: “We’ll definitely stay in touch. Couldn’t shut me up if you tried.” And she even sounds almost unselfconscious about it. She approaches Caion for a hug. It’s a bit fraught, with the pack and the staff and the crystallized arm, but they find a way.
has gotten pretty good at Unconventional Hugs, he makes it work.
settles for a handclasp and a pat on the shoulder with Caion. “Fair winds and safe travels, my friend. Go, care for your people.”
nods slightly to Caion.
: “Take care, Caion! Don’t let the currents swallow you.”
takes one last look around– not like he won’t be back fairly shortly himself, all things considered– and then heads off to the Liminal Express, staff clanking on the obsidian cobbles.
gives Caion a farewell bow and a wave with a warm smile. “Safe Travels, Caion!”
finishes off her pomegranate and disposes of that husk too.
pads into existence from absolutely nowhere, then, and curls up on the cobblestones with one eye open.
nods to the Cat.
ꙮ And, for the time being, it’s just the seven of you (once Archie trudges out of the Ziggurat, which he does, at some point) and the Cat and the Dog. Some time soon, but not until you’re well on your way, people will start filtering in from the Irrica planes… but for now, peace and quiet.
nods back to Luĉja, pleasantly, and does an incredibly big stretch and then curls up, again.
balls up the pomegranate husk and tosses it into the void. “Alright, I got this one.”
goes over to the Cat and offers her hand and a quick jaw scritch if she accepts, and whispers something to her before rejoining the rest.
: “Pets, hold down the fort. Ember’s in charge.”
kneels with the Dog again, scruffles some more–speaks something in the Dog’s ear that, if you were close enough to catch, might sound like “Take care of Izaak for me”.
emits a startled, but content, murbling purrrrup noise at Salme and her tail lashes from side to side once and she tilts her head to the side to get scritches, and it looks for all the world like she’s smiling.
barks, once, softly and solemnly.
grins at the Cat, then is standing near the Awoken, listening attentively.
offers pets and scritches to both the Dog and the Cat.
approaches the shadowy portal, cracking his knuckles. He leans forward, whistling into it- low, high, high, low note… and strikes it with his finger, low, high, high…
ꙮ A ripple of light passes over its surface, and then the surface tilts and shifts and deepens, the shadow of its interior becoming a thing through which one might walk.
: “Keep your eyes open. Even in the darkness, they’ll twinkle.” He strides forward through the arch, not missing a step.
is right behind him.
eyes shine brightly, as they move forward, through the portal. It is their only direction.
walks up to the portal and takes a deep breath. “The righteous stand before the darkness, and the God shall guide their hand.”, then steps through.
ꙮ A corridor made of black polished stone, that seems like it stretches on forever, but then after you’ve taken only a few steps through it, does a half-twist, for which your feet easily stay in the same surface, such that, for a moment, some of you are walking on the ceiling, from the perspective of the others, and then a few steps afterwards, opens out onto ground covered in a thick layer of fine grey sand, fine enough almost to be dust. As each of you steps out from the corridor, you look back, and the place you stepped out of is just– part of a stone cliff face, crystalline planes with a slight blue cast to them. If you look in the direction that would, normally, be ‘up’, but which you are certain is, properly, ‘beneath you’, you see a starless expanse, velvet-black, with an enormous, partially-shattered moon bathing everything in a soft bright light.
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: Beacons Beckon
: “Hmm… pathway feels longer than normal.”
stares around openly. “Goodness. This is…stranger than usual.”
looks up?, towards the shattered moon, and can only breathe out a “FASCINATING”.
ꙮ From somewhere, you feel a gentle pull. Like your feet would like, very much, to move in a particular direction; like if you went wandering, you’d find the source. Up above, from your new perspective– you can see terrain rising in the distance, in that direction. At the peak, perhaps, of a small mountain - your mind quickly acclimating to gravity here, to see that direction as ‘up’.
: “That’s right… follow your feeling, even should it change.”
turns to Salme and Wolf, “My ability to feel time is wrong here, as well.”
frowns. “Is it wrong in the same way?”
: “No. I can determine no pattern to it. On Mu, it simply was far away, and slowed the closer we came to the Heart. Here it is…wrong in every way in every direction, simultaneously.”
: “I don’t much trust that pull, either,” Wolf says.
turns to Wolf, smiling. “Make your own. Declare this egress point, your ‘up.’”
: “I…yes…” Wolf looks around, vaguely distracted. “Am I the only one who feels that?”
: “Feels what?”
: “No. There is a sensation. I do not enjoy it. I believe it to be the wrong way as well.”
: “Please, describe it.”
: “No, I feel…something. I’m not sure what, but it feels…wrong.”
: “Not the pull, but the…” Wolf scrunches up his face. “The…love?”
: “Oh! Good! I knew you always heard things others couldn’t, but in this, we share!”
: “There was mention in the Traveler’s Guide about the pull of the Pathos of Valaïs? As something that exerts a pull, and that the people here resist? I don’t know if that’s what you’re feeling, but.” She shrugs. “If it feels wrong to half of us, it’s probably worth going in some other direction?”
: “Aye, though…the feeling is not associated with the pull, per se?”
shrugs again “It is also likely that we will end up there eventually. We have begun to make a habit of going where people ought not to.”
: “The pull is familiar. The love is home.” He turns begins to walk… wander.
glances around, not really sure what other people are feeling, but trails after the Awoken.
also isn’t feeling anything at all beyond vague confusion, but follows the Awoken as well.
brings up the rear, eyes scanning around steadily, brow furrowed..
follows, alongside Wolf.
ꙮ As you walk away from the cliff face, you start to get more of a handle on the terrain itself, It’s wider, ‘beneath’ you - there are plates of dark basalt, each one wider than the last. You can see one above you, too, smaller than the one you’re currently on, in the distance, obscuring much of the terrain in shadow; you can see a spiraling pathway of crystal corkscrewing its way up from your plate into the one above, and the Awoken is walking, vaguely, in the direction of the closest crystal pathway up.
grabs a couple pieces of loose stone as they go. They’ll need to perform science again sooner or later.
ꙮ You leave footprints in the soil; it softly crunches almost like snow under your feet. Nobody’s been this way in quite some time.
: “This place is…so much different from where I’m from; the Sun is always shining, so there’s so much…light, and brightness. Here, it so…dark.”
ꙮ You notice, also, if you’re paying attention and looking for it, a distinct lack of any real notable background gnosis of any sort. Not that it’s impossible to invoke your own, by any means.
nods at Dyu. “I thought there would be stars. The Traveler’s Guide says it’s starless here, but I still … thought there would be.”
ꙮ When you approach the winding crystal way, there are stairs either carved or, somehow, naturally grown into it; walls on either side with hand-holds grooved into the walls.
: “I think this is still part of the void, just the further reaches.”
hops onto the stairs, ascending them foot behind foot and with arms outstretched to the side, not unlike if one were walking on a balancing beam. Even considering the ample space available.
: “I know that when I dreamt past Valais in the past, it was…shrouded. Hidden.”
follows the Awoken closely. She doesn’t reach for his hand, not yet. But she’s close behind him.
ꙮ The top of the crystal path disgorges into a cavern that must be part of the upper plate after drilling through the plate itself for a couple turns; there’s some kind of weird glowing rocks, so it’s not -that- much dimmer than it was outside under the moonlight. There’s also what you can see as an obvious and well-trod path through the cavern - part of the stone a bit shinier and polished with use.
: “Wolf, Dyu, Luĉja—the thing you feel … Wolf called it ‘love.’ Is it the same for both of you, or was a different kind of wrongness?” She speaks, but she’s still half distracted, eyes locked on the Awoken.
ꙮ (The ground here being stone, and not covered with that soft light dusty sand.)
: “I do not feel any sort of love, ambiently here. Nor do I specifically feel a wrongness. Just a slight pull. I simply believe it to be the wrong way for us. I do not think the world will show us what we seek so easily.”
: “Hmm… do you not feel it, Salme?”
: “I feel a vague tug in a specific direction, but nothing special otherwise.” She shrugs. “I’m not particularly metaphysically inclined in this way though.”
taps a claw to his chin as he follows the others. “I’m not quite sure ‘love’ is the correct term, but it might be the closest one you could use? Something about it just doesn’t feel right.”
ꙮ You’re quiet, for a time, moving through the cave. ⁂
ꙮ You think, perhaps, that you see moonlight, up ahead - and then all seven of you feel a Rite descend on you, with no warning, a Rite with stakes that make no sense - incapacitation, so that you can be fed to something, and your attacker(s?) can get their obols out of you? - and then a human jumps out from behind a rock with an enormous, sharp-looking scythe, eyes gleaming menacingly. “Eyy, Beast, there’s tan’neave of ‘em, bet you an obol I can take ‘em on my own!” 🙧
growls deep in his throat, his naginata forming in his hand a second before its blade flares into angry flame. He steps to put himself between the scythe-bearer and Dyu, lips peeling back from his teeth. “Think again.“
draws their Behemoth-Blade, glowing with light and fire. “And who might you be?”
hands spring into action, summoning a ruby cutlass and red crossbow to his hands. “Lose that bet, it’ll be easier for us to divide and conquer!” he booms, with a little bit of delight in his tenor.
: “Delightful.”
ꙮ ”What the shit-“ -he takes a step back, staring at you.
watches without drawing her weapons. This seems rather beneath them, and that reaction … she watches.
ꙮ And then you hear, “Hale Wolf, you fucking -idiot-, stand down-“ -and approximately half a second passes, and your attacker does not, in fact, stand down, and another, bigger, meaner-looking human pounces from behind ANOTHER rock, but he pounces your attacker and grapples him right into the rock, gets a knee on his chest, and then looks up at all of you. “Sorry about that, my friend’s a bloody fool. You’re all alive, aren’t you?”
ꙮ His friend is wriggling around helplessly and swearing but he isn’t going anywhere.
: “Probably.”
: “Alive as the air is crisp.”
: “Last I checked.” The flame around his blade dims but doesn’t go out, yet.
lowers their blade, and re-slings it, hand hovering instead by their handguncannon.
gives a nod, watching them carefully.
doesn’t dignify that with a response either. Did they just encounter a pair of bungling corpse bounty hunters?
ꙮ He growls. “Hale Wolf, if you didn’t want me to be able to beat you senseless you shouldn’t have lit a Rite without making eye contact with me first. Stop wiggling and let. Me. Handle. This. That’s an order.” And the wiggling, for the moment, stops, and the guy looks up: “Metha’neave Beast Alexei, of the Valaïs Guards. I’ll take ‘probably’ alive as good enough. I’ve never seen you around before. Who the shadowed hell are you?”
: “Clan Emberlight! We’re travellers.”
ꙮ He raises an eyebrow, and looks past you, towards where the crystal path is. “Travellers from where?”
bows with a flourish of the sword, and a careful motion of the crossbow, not pointing it at anything he doesn’t want to shoot.
: “Other worlds. Dimensions.”
ꙮ He blinks.
: “Very far away.“
ꙮ He blinks again, and makes a gesture with his hand, and the Rite immediately evaporates.
ꙮ ”The stories are real, then. Hot buttered damn.” He looks at- at each of you, in turn, eyes lingering on each of you for a different reason. Hale Wolf, from underneath, wriggles out from under him since the Rite evaporating took the edge off, and, incredulously, says, “They can -talk-“, which Metha’neave Beast does not dignify with even a glance of acknowledgement. “Alright. I owe each of you loof obols out of Hale Wolf’s pay, for starters.”
dismisses his weapons and turns to look at the party, wordlessly jerking a thumb at their attackers as if to say, ‘get a load of these frickin’ guys.’
idly wonders what the lucre to obol exchange rate is these days.
: “What stories do you speak of, Metha’neave Beast?”
tilts her head at … Hale Wolf. “He new or something? I thought you guys were bandits, not guardsmen.”
finally extinguishes the flame on his naginata, though he keeps it in hand, resting the butt of it on the ground like a walking staff. He watches and listens, for now, eyes shadowing slightly.
ꙮ He growls, “He’s an idiot who wants to roll around in a hill of obols. Not to say I was. Expecting to run into anyone wandering out of hell who could talk, but.”
turns back to the motley crew. “Who were you expecting? And what’s an obol?”
ꙮ ”Anyways, there’s children’s stories about other worlds what existed yesterday, always figured they were. Stories. Hn.” He gets to his feet. “Expected Undead shambling out of Hell like usual. Beat ‘em up, bring ‘em home, get some extra obols out of them on top of guard pay. Can usually catch a few out on patrol and it’s been a dry month for apparitions so pay’s been shit.” He shrugs. “You didn’t run into any out there, huh?”
: “Existed yesterday?”
: “Providence!” He claps his hands.
ꙮ He waves his hand. “Yeah, yesterday. Not today, not tomorrow.”
: “Is there a tomorrow?”
ꙮ ”‘course there’s a tomorrow, there’s always a tomorrow. ‘s like asking if there was a yesterday. We’re drownin’ in both of ‘em. Only got yan today, though, and I expect Captain Tana’loof Drum will want to see you before today’s tomorrow, if you’re headed… where ARE you headed?”
just arches a brow at the explanation, an expression not unlike Ravhi would make.
: “Wherever’s interesting.”
ꙮ ”Well, the Fort’s interesting.”
: “Somewhere with people! And answers! And probably local delicacies…”
is turning over ‘Tana’loof Drum’ trying to make any fucking sense of it, but just nods.
is equally baffled, but hides it behind a stony glower. “Towards something resembling civilization, aye…”
ꙮ ”Alright. Hale Wolf, watch our backs, eyes out for creepy crawlies, and so help me if you look at our new friends the wrong way I’ll throw YOU into the Pathos.”
ꙮ ”No you won’t, only Captain does that.” “Fuck off.” And then he starts heading out of the cave.
: “I mean, he’s welcome to try but it’s just going to end in disappointment for ‘em.”
laughs.
nods to Hale Wolf. “Rough day, yeah?”
ꙮ Hale Wolf just grumbles in embarrassment. At least he has some shame. Outside of the cave, and you look ‘up’, and there’s one layer past this one, ringed with a number of curving crystal paths flowing like waterfalls down onto this plate. On that topmost layer, there’s an enormous fortress-city with thick walls, and intricate filigree black-metal spires, and at the top of the topmost spire there’s an enormous cupola, open to the air, and resting in that cupola is the source, you’re immediately certain, of the pull you’ve been feeling - a huge, shimmering purple light, pulsing slowly, visibly and incredibly slowly. Metha’neave Beast guides you towards the closest of the crystal paths.
: “Is Metha’neave a title or your name?” She asks as they walk. “Actually, you gave several names.”
pulls out the guide, flips to the picture of Valais, looked between it and the purple light a few times, then scrunches up his face while mumbling mostly to himself. “(Are we upside down, or was the picture…?)”
ꙮ ”Ah, shit, hell. Curse my manners. Aye, it’s my name. Not really one for titles. When were -you- born?”
: “When was I born?”
: “You could probably math it out if you were really inclined to do so.”
ꙮ He blinks. “Aye, we’re making introductions, aren’t we?” He points to himself. “Metha’neave Beast.” Gestures over. “Hale Wolf. And you all?”
rolls her eyes at Aurelius. “My name’s Salme. Just. Salme. Of Clan Emberlight.”
: “I have the distinct feeling that time does not function here as it does where we hail from. Our names do not reflect our times, as far as I can know.”
: “My name is the Awoken Prince! Couldn’t tell you when I was born, because I have no memory of it! Might’ve been yesterday.”
: “Wolf,” he says–and glances at Hale Wolf. “No relation.”
ꙮ He looks like he’s too well-trained to be looking at you like you grew a third eye, and he’s also keeping eyes on the road. “Well, if you were born yesterday your name’d be Yan’spaul Mask, but seeing as you’re not a squallin’ infant, I don’t think that’s the case.” He gestures at Wolf. “That’s PART of a name, at least, I’ll take that and a hot sandwich.”
: “Oh, good, I was worried it’d only be cold soups.”
just arches an eyebrow at that.
: “Oh, I get it I think.”
: “Constellations are probably days, or months?”
ꙮ ”Fuck’s a constellation?”
: “You know ‘em when you see ‘em.” He tilts his head. “Or maybe you don’t?”
: “A reoccuring pattern you can’t help but see when you look at the world.”
: “The Beating Heart? Soldier-and-Brother?” Wolf’s voice is a drawl.
: “Which I guess would make me of the (golden) Lion and… Aurelius… golden… huh. Rather more on the nose here.”
shakes his head from looking around at everything to answer the initial question, belatedly. “I am Dyu.”
ꙮ ”Well, there’s a beatin’ Drum. Can’t say as I know a heart.” Trudge trudge trudge. “They don’t reckon days -or- names the same where you’re from, then, I take it–“ -he looks at Aurelius. “Aye, Lion, we’ve one of those.”
: “What abouuuuuuuuuut… Empty? Space? Sky? In the?”
ꙮ ”Tomorrow after tomorrow, that’ll be Yan’spaul Lion, even.”
: “And what’s the Beast referencing?”
ꙮ He shrugs expansively. “Hell knows, I didn’t choose it.” He starts taking the crystal stairs up to the top layer.
: “Fiend Engine I’d imagine.”
: “Oh. Good call.” She keeps walking, and says, “You know, considering the other options on offer, ‘The Awoken Prince’ is starting to seem more acceptable. Even if it is a title.”
grins at Salme. “I’ve been sayin’ it!”
ꙮ As he climbs, he talks, climbing a stair with every day. “Days always run, Loom, Awl, Lamp, Drum, Mask, Book, Wolf, Bone, Lion, Beast, Knot, Loam, Snake, and then start back over at Loom.”
ꙮ ”Can’t believe the stories are real AND days go around not havin’ names in ‘em.” He grumbles good-naturedly, and leads you towards a well-fortified gate in the thick walls.
: “Yeah that makes sense. Thirteen day week though, that’s fucked.”
: “What is time, really.“
: “Loom. Is there a story behind that one? Behind any of them? Or is that just what they are?”
also take a moment to wonder if SQ was using a 7 day week or 8 day week on Beast, but definitely isn’t about to invite chaos by wondering about it out loud.
ꙮ ”Oh hell no, Captain’s not a monster, he just pretends to be one. Neave days on, tan days off, neave more on, then yan more off, forever and ever until the Undead take you with ‘em when they go. For us guards, at any rate. Stick close, this gate’ll take us through the Downbelow. Although it’s not like any of you have any obols for anyone to steal, anyways.”
: “Real quick can you count from -“ Aurelius holds up one finger, “- to -“ then holds up all ten, “- for me?”
ꙮ He blinks. “Moon’s crack, do they not have numbers where you’re from too?” He shakes his head, as he leads you forward, into an unbelievably dense, crowded… it’s like the Bazaar in Queenstown, if instead of being run by incredible competence even before Zaya showed up, it were haphazard and mad, and also if there were buildings stacked on top of buildings, all crammed inside the outer walls of the fort, propped up against the walls and against each other, and crowded as all hell. “Yan, tan, tethir, methir, neave, yan’neave, tan’neave, tetha’neave, metha’neave, loof. Loof obols for each of you out of Hale Wolf’s pay, remember that one, that’s important.” He waggles ten fingers around menacingly, but Hale Wolf is looking out for bandits.
is also looking out for bandits, holding a field of tenebrous gnosis around her that will trigger if someone unfamiliar gets too close. She’s also looking around in wonder and fascination.
has absolutely zero danger sense and looks around like he’s a tourist.
: “Tan’s two? Huh. Anyway we got numbers, just real different words for ‘em.”
ꙮ ”Oh, thank fuck. I was gettin’ worried.”
is clearly trying to take in the numbering of Valais, but is mostly failing. He drops back to be even with Dyu, leaning in to murmur in the other’s ear: “Usually it’s not…quite like this.”
: “For another point of triangulation-“
ꙮ ”Then spaul’s a neave after loof, ‘cause you’ve run out of hands and have to use a foot, or so my ma told me. And then hale’s a neave after spaul, ‘cause it’s a hale whole body.”
: “When you guys sleep, do you stand on your heads, assisted by ankle shackles?”
ꙮ This time, he DOES stare at the Awoken Prince like he’s grown an extra eye.
: “Hmm… I see. Base 5’s still better than 12.” Aurelius nods to himself.
rubs over the stubble of his chin to hide a smile at Awa.
: “I take it that’s a no?”
ꙮ ”Yeah, that’s a no.”
sighs in relief. “Oh, good. Something we have in common.”
leans in to murmur back to Wolf, “Oh, I kind of gathered that. I’m…not even trying to retain the knowledge he’s trying to impart.”
coughs sharply into his hand. “Now, now, you should…try…”
ꙮ The bazaar is crowded as all hell– people are buying food, ingredients, anything you can think of, haggling over prices, a vast panoply of the life of this plane - kids running back and forth, people sometimes in rags, something in something approaching finery, the latter tending to look like they’ve got Important Jobs to Do, some of the latter pleading for obols from anyone who looks likely.
he chuckles, “Okay, perhaps “trying“ isn’t the right word. More like I can’t -guarantee- I’ll retain it.”
ꙮ There’s a hubbub, it’s not quiet, by any means, but then you hear - and you hear this with your ears -and- your heart - someone singing.
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: Downbelow
ꙮ ”What in the -fuck-“
’s head immediately perks up, glancing around.
: “Corner street performers not common?”
blinks rapidly, glancing at Dyu with a clear message of ‘are you getting that?’
nods to Wolf, with a VERY confused look on his face.
tries to see who’s singing.
looks faintly amused at the number twelve coming up again so soon.
ꙮ Metha’neave Beast looks around, from side to side, and then someone calls out, loudly– ⁂
: “Stop him, damn it all-“
ꙮ And there’s a tremendous commotion from somewhere in the Downbelow, but as you can imagine – especially if a Commotion begins – it’s very difficult to get anywhere at all very fast. 🙧
: “Hey, hey, hey-“ He’s tapping Metha’neave rapidly on the arm. “You heard that too?”
: “Corner street performers are apparently really not common.”
is startled out of his pleasant stupor by the rush of people and sounds all around him. He flicks his spectacles on, scanning for any unseen threats.
ꙮ He’s on his tiptoes trying to keep watch. “Half the damn Downbelow heard that, it’s got to be the Shadow again– you can’t sing like that inside the Fort, for fuck’s sake–“ –he sounds almost strangled.
: “Oh, that makes sense.”
: “The Shadow?” Wolf trades looks at Salme this time.
: “That it’s the Shadow or that singing is forbidden?”
: “That it’s the Shadow sneaking in causing a disturbance. Don’t remember anything about singing being forbidden written down.”
: “Ah. Traveler’s Guide. The second Overseer of Valaïs? Apparently Duškomira knew him,” she volunteers to Wolf.
: “…I wish if I knew if that bodes good or ill…”
ꙮ ”I– yes– both! Fuck, are all of you all right? No, singing is– don’t sing, for the love of all that’s good. Singing is something the Undead do.”
suddenly speeds off- his lithe frame quickly cutting through the crowds, blazing a trail for one as he rockets through with surprising alacrity given the clamor.
ꙮ ”–Fuck!”
blinks at their escort.
speeds off after the Awoken.
blinks, then gestures at Dyu to follow and heads off in Salme’s wake.
grabs their pistol and dashes after The Awoken Prince.
follows on Wolf’s heels.
ꙮ Metha’neave Beast attempts to follow, but the Awoken is much lither than he is, and so is Salme, and then it’s just a total clusterfuck, everyone going every which way.
: “I guess we’re going that’a’way, but if songs effect the living here, it’s not… quite the same back home and we’re fine.” He rolls a shrug, before turning and following the others.
is not above vaulting over people or elbowing people in the gut to keep up with the Awoken.
moves like a man possessed, bounding off of a stall to catch a vault off of another man’s shoulders, whipping around a throng of tethir, juking to avoid the mass of neave, a jerky advance that carves a baroque path comparable to the buildings’ haphazard construction. There’s a pause where he looks, and feels which way to go…
is, if anything, less subtle about shouldering people out of the way than Salme is…but he’s apologizing more as he does it. “Sorry, coming through, pardon madam, excuse me, out of the blasted way, sorry…!”
ꙮ Down -this- alley! And then– the Awoken runs almost head-first into a tall man with sandy blond hair and kind, although presently rather harried-looking eyes, leading a small group of what he can immediately recognise as well more elegantly-armoured Valaïs guards, who’s advanced into a little cul-de-sac formed by structures and stalls, and both he and the Awoken see a shit-eating grin, fading into thin air, at the dead end in question.
: “Fuck! Fuck.” He holds a hand out to steady the Awoken, instinctively. “Are you all right?”
shoves past people, also apologizing as he goes, until he catches up with Wolf, and the others.
ꙮ The rest of you, by ones and twos, will eventually come upon the same cul-de-sac, either quickly or slowly depending on how careful you’re being.
: “You kiddin’? Haven’t had a blast like this since the ferris wheel!” Like he knows what he’s talking about. But there’s no time to explain– but even that short time was enough for the grin to fade.
: “…just missed him?”
: “Again. Damn it to hell.”
snarls unpleasant threats as she careens around the corner, and there’s burning gnosis flickering in her wake, but she grinds to a halt when she sees the Awoken.
hop-skids to a stop right behind Salme–nearly careening right into her, but managing to avoid anything more than having to brace briefly against her shoulders.
blinks. “Are you chasing him down, too?” Another blink. “When were you born? I don’t recognise you-“ -and then other strangers appear, who clearly know and are with the strange man who bumped into him, and he doesn’t recognise them either, but they’re within the City and he’d know if an Apparition were happening, so they can’t be part of whatever tricks the Shadow’s playing on him today. Can they?
turns and almost bites Wolf’s head off, verbally, before she see who it is and relaxes.
: “Yes! I mean, maybe! I mean… I don’t know who he is!”
: “And I… don’t know when I was born!” He stands up straight, hands on his hips. “But you can call me The Awoken Prince!”
stops himself as he catches up to Wolf and Salme, panting to regain his breath.
squints at the Awoken– and then Metha’neave Beast catches his eye, briefly, and there’s a quick nonverbal exchange that happens there in the space of a breath, and he seems to stand down, catching his breath. “We call him the Shadow. He’s Undead, and he’s been harassing Fort Valaïs as long as I can remember, and I’m going to catch him, damn it. I’m going to catch him.” A soft growl. “Tomorrow, apparently.”
whirls around the corner, but seeing no signs of an assailant or struggle, lets the murderous intent behind his glowing eyes dim and fade.
: “What’s it mean to be Undead here?” She says, stepping up beside the Awoken and weaving her fingers with his. “And what’s so dangerous about it? We’re not from around here.”
gives Salme’s hand a quick squeeze.
ꙮ Metha’neave Beast finally gets close enough to use words, albeit he’s out of breath. “Captain! They’re– they say the stories are true. They say they’re from other worlds. Wanted t’. Bring em to ya.”
waves helpfully.
draws himself up, eyebrow raised. “…well done, then, Metha’neave Beast. Dismissed, I’ll handle things from here. Go take a rest.” He turns towards the seven of you, meeting Salme’s gaze. “The Undead are fearsome and dangerous. They abscond with the sick, the weak, and the dead, and they throw themselves at our defenses relentlessly, trying to catch us off guard. And the Shadow is the worst of all of them.”
nods his head from side to side. “Killer singing voice.”
: “Literally, unfortunately.”
: “Oh yeah he said Hale Wolf owed us all loof obol, by the by.”
: “(Metha’neave said that, that is. Not the Shadow. My friends don’t know him either.)”
: “I will be… surprised if that little stunt of his didn’t lose us anybody. Somehow he can just… slip right past any defenses we put up.” He exhales, slowly. “I -will- capture him. He was here -looking- for something. Or waiting.” And then he frowns– and raises an eyebrow at Aurelius. “Well, that’ll be a fun story for Metha’neave Beast to tell me tomorrow, I’m sure. Would you be willing to follow me up to the barracks?”
: “Of course.”
: “So people literally die when he sings?”
is ready and willing to follow whenever. Is also not letting go of the Awoken’s hand.
turns, then, and moves towards the inner walls of the fort, and the stalls get a bit nicer and more orderly as you get closer. “Did you not… feel…” He growls, softly. “The -pull- of his voice? Count yourself lucky, then.”
: “Yeah, we’re willing.” He’s okay with Salme not letting go.
: “Songs don’t really do that where we’re from.”
: “Very much not,“ Wolf says, grimly.
: “All the Undead pull with their song, but his voice… blackest Night, his damned voice.”
decides to stow the compliments for now.
feels like she skimmed a shitty pulp novel with this vague plot back on the Beast. “Pull people … away from the Fort and then … what? They die too?”
ꙮ It doesn’t sound like he entirely disagrees, really, which is the entire problem.
nods, and guides the group to an elevator set into the wall of the inner fort, which goes up a number of flights right to a much neater and more-organised and quieter barracks. “They become Undead. Join the number of those forces arrayed against us. They cannot be killed, just captured, and given to the Blacklight Pathos.”
: “So the damage they do is primarily by making more of themselves, yes?” She looks like she’s trying to put together a puzzle.
ꙮ The elevator is smoothly designed and clean, but it still seems kind of primitive - he starts it off by tugging, hard, on a braided metal rope visible through a small hatch.
makes a noise. “They attack us viciously with everything they have, cart us off against our will… Infiltrate our defenses for Night knows what reasons. All the while singing their damned songs.”
: “There is no music, then? Amongst the living?”
: “…and for some reason, he showed up again, right before -you- got here.” He exhales, again. “This is a mad question, and you’re free to say no. But if I’m right– would you help me try to lure him and capture him? I’ll pay in obols, I’ll give you the run of the barracks while you’re here.”
: “I imagine we’re gunna cross paths again at some point anyway, so I don’t see why not.”
: “Yeah, absolutely!” Maybe a little too eagerly.
looks immediately, infinitely relieved, although he scans everyone’s eyes, briefly, not willing to assume Aurelius and the Awoken speak for everyone. “Fort Valaïs would be. Much, much safer with him safely in our custody.”
inclines her head in assent.
gives a bow and nod in agreement.
nods solemnly.
nods, though he looks pensive. “Aye.”
makes no verbal agreement.
ꙮ They don’t say NO, though, and that’s good enough for Casimir for the time being.
: “Alright, then. I… do not know where you are from, or why you are here. But I can only assume it is for a reason, and I’m glad you made it here safely. I’m… truly sorry for Hale Wolf’s overenthusiasm.” And he hands each of you a small silken pouch full of more than ten small coins with inverted markings. You’ve seen these coins, before.
: “Ahh, no harm done, but we’ll take the coin all the same.” He winks.
rolls one of the coins around in his hand, not looking less pensive at that. “Aye. Reason, indeed.” He smiles, thinly. “Hale Wolf did no harm, nor could he have, I think.”
: “…Oh, the weird mysterious coins! Huh. Love an unexpected answer that only raises different questions.”
: “Make yourself comfortable for the time being. Either here, or this ought to buy you lodging anywhere but the highest echelons. I have a plan to catch the Shadow, with your help; I’ll let you know when I need you next.”
glances at Aury and snorts. “Yes. Love.”
: “We could have got more questions without any answers, expected or otherwise, so I’ll take what I can get.”
laughs a bit at Aurelius’ comment as she idly walks an obol across her knuckles.
: “Yes, well.” He, for one, does not look resigned to the endless parade of question-spawning answers.
: “We wait with bated breath! Anything else we should know about the city?”
: rolls one of the coins around in his claws, before tucking them into his pack.*
looks thoughtful. “Try to– do as you see others doing. Perhaps pick calendricals, if you wish to draw less attention, although…” He looks at Dyu, and then at Luĉja, and at Archie, and that may be a lost cause. “If anyone gives you trouble…” He fishes around in a drawer, and hands each of you a little metal badge with a complex sigil on it. “Just show them this, and they’ll know you’re with me. That ought to be enough.”
: “Don’t sing where anyone can hear you.”
: “And don’t carry all your obols on you at once if you’re in the Downbelow.”
leans towards Awa. “(I did a quick comparison table and you get to just pick any random sign you want, they don’t have an empty sky equivalent.)”
grimaces, visibly, at the instruction not to sing.
looks to Aury, thinks a second with scrunched lips, and then nods in understanding.
: “Man. That’s even wilder than bodies and fruits that don’t rot.”
frowns at not being able to sing.
: “The singing bit, that is.”
blinks at Awa, then smiles a little, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you, my friend.”
: “You think the … not singing is weird than the—“ she looks at the Guard-Captain and absolutely does not ask about rotting bodies.
doesn’t look like he knows quite what to make of that statement. “The storied other-worlds must be stranger than I can imagine.”
: “Yeah.”
just nods, firmly.
: “You’re not just whistlin’ Dixi-… ah, nevermind.”
gives Salme’s hand another squeeze.
squeezes his hand back. As she always will.