Anik came into the Hall of the Sun, swung by H.C. Vajk's office if she was available (or perhaps just the secretary if she had the signed permission), unless of course there was no permission, paradoxed it, and headed to the Gate to go and meet Pitcarn.

Ruse

"I'm afraid," said Councilman Roid. "That that information is classified at this exact moment. Until further studies and tests can be completed, the proper reports sent and filed, we cannot allow the spread of information," he frowned, "In regards to this case. It could be.. dangerous."

Anik

The secretary smiled at Anik. Behind her desk were the closed doors of Councilman Vajk.

"I'm afraid, uh, the Councilman's busy," said the secretary, looking embarrassed.

Behind the doors were the sounds of thumping, groans, the occasional loud moan. A meeting.

"I'm, well," said the secretary. He smiled. "If you'd.. care to, uh.. wait.."

Ruse frowned - it was very rare for anyone to withhold information from with regarding Osiris-Ra. Really, even other highlords couldn't mandate such a thing given his position. But a councilor - especially his direct supervisor - unfortunately could.

"Very well then, Councilor. If that is your wish. I do wonder if we can harness this sand weapon to our own end, but I think it would be safer to either destroy or keep these four items apart. I sensed a great madness - not necessarily with a capital M mind you - emanating from the package I delivered you. It was a bit much even for one like myself. I do urge you to err on the side of caution."

Ruse pointed to the jar, and said,

"I will leave this with you then, Councilor. I don't need it nor do I want it at the moment."

Anik took a seat, seemingly undisturbed by anything. He quite understood this to be in the nature of most gods, and vicious gods were said to be a bit more primal.

Anik looked as if he learned of something far off, and then stood back up only moments after he arrived. "I shall return momentarily, she might just give you what I need in case I am not back in time." He then headed toward the offices of Councilman Roid in order the catch Ruse on his way out.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:08, Fri 10 Sept 2010.

Ruse and Anik

"Thank you, Secretary," said Roid. Ruse heads to the Tower of Babilu, but as he wanders through the hallways beneath the Hall of the Sun he is met by a familiar face - High Lord Anik.

Ruse looks at Anik with his usual sterile politeness, masking any true emotion. It was a regal, dignified yet cold noble bearing. Like a beautifully sculpted ice queen trying to find its heart while retaining its integrity.

"High Lord Anik, you wished to speak to me?" Ruse said politely.

Anik wasn't sure how "familiar" his face was seeing as they had never met face to face, though Anik had seen him across the room at the Funeral. Anik was a bit shorter than the air around him proclaimed. He had his long brown hair back in a ponytail showing off his elvish ears. He spoke with little to no emotion as if everything he said was calculated. There were definably few he was truly open with. "Glad to finally see you in person. It has been so long since my original need to talk to you that my issues have changed greatly, and more gravely." Anik made sure no one is around he didn't want to say this quite aloud, suddenly he realized he didn't have to. Anik put his finger on Ruse's forehead... and the great teacher taught.

((Time to Anik to go even more Vulcan and mind-meld.))

******
The space that was a mental connection appeared, and Anik let himself be known.
I am Anik. I have been around for quite some time so bare with me when I say the Conclave for all it's good it tries, is stifling the Tree. It has nothing to do with it's control over the people... I could care less, we are all doomed I suspect. But the evolution of the tree is deliberately being stopped by the Emperor of the Golden Hand... who is perhaps not who you think he is.

There is one named Crailek... Images flash of Anik's time with his perhaps "best friend". The times in the ancient world where their friendship endured within and surpassing Madness. Then images flash of this life-time. Anik was speaking to him of their towers and what they should do. He goes through the memory that Crailek is already in the tower... and got caught doing so, but told Anik not to worry. Then there was another theory... Crailek had told Anik that he didn't think that their previous selves were dead! Anik dismissed this though, he didn't think it possible.
But then...

The map of Logos... Memories of question after question to the map, and each one answered as best it could. The first step to acquiring a logos. From the map: "Death. In order to grow, the Logos of Order must be destroyed. Only then do we have a chance to right the mistake." Anik asked the question. "Can you tell me, by name, who holds the Logos of Order?" The Map responded: The Emperor of the Golden Hand, who was once called Yakhthur and will be remembered as Crailek, is the name of the Logos of Order.

And there is one named Crailek... A symbolic image of a man cloaked in shadow on a throne, as Wyrn bows down. String move from the Emperor hand to the others in the conclave... including Ruse and Anik himself.

And then there is the man named Odin... Odin's and Anik's original meeting at the dock's of a realm of water. The commission to build something that could destroy realms. And Anik's idea of creating a grand tower that can fuse the seeds of realms... and the realms themselves. Destruction of the old to the creation new life...

"Even several of my own selves cannot accomplish all of this. I take a chance coming to you because I saw the way you acted with Max. I feel you put more of whats right over what this conclave wishes. Nothing I plan is final yet. Nor am I sure i should listen to the map... but it tells the truth.

On a separate note, the amount of mental information you can carry through is astounding. I thought I was going to have to do this in several touches... it's almost as if you are used to such things." This time there was an emotion... speculation though clearly without proof.

*******

Anik pulled his finger back... only about a second had passed.

((ooc: Lol nice vulcan reference!))

Ruse stood there, his expression as restrained and cool as before. He did raise but one eyebrow in...whimsical curiosity, and perhaps sarcastic understanding of the situation. It was quite the mess that was shown to him. Rather interesting indeed, the games these conclave councilors and emperor played.

Anik was absolutely correct about Ruse not flinching even once during the mental transfer. Ruse's mind was extremely sharp - this man was bright and intelligent beyond even normal gods. There could be, perhaps, additional capabilities at work but if there were, Anik had no idea either way. If he had some capability to check, he'd find Ruse to be a mystery, his mind a haze like a bank of fog.

"Oh? How...delightfully curious. Both you trying to grasp my motives, as well as those other things."

He cracked a slight grin - or perhaps a smirk - on his beautifully frigid face. It quickly receeded.

"You take great risk showing me this. However, let me ease your anxiety by telling you that you were correct in your assertion that I would receive this positively, from your perspective, and not act with hostility. Hmmm...you need to be more careful though. Calculated risk is still risk, after all."

Ruse then looked at Anik's oathblade a bit, and just...glared at it for a moment. It was a short, but intense, moment. Unknown to Anik, Ruse made the god of craft's oathblade conveniently "overlook" what had happened. Just in case Anik considered acting against the conclave in a way the oathblade deemed worth killing him for. But then again, the petty regulatory tools of the conclave always were but putty in Ruse's fingers.

Ruse also reached out with his mind, and if he sensed any machines within hearing distance he had them temporarily either not register them, or for the more sensitive ones register as petty chit-chat, like how is the weather and do you wanna go have lunch some time. That sort of thing. If no machines were trying to eavesdrop on them, then all the better.

"Perhaps you'd like to visit me in my realm? You know, to talk about the weather or perhaps try mistellan fare."

Ruse knew a man of Anik's brilliance would most definitely know he meant "let's go to my realm where we can talk more openly and safely about this, if you'd like."

"And I apologize for not seeing you sooner - I barely have any free time for myself with the multitude of immensely-important things I am constantly working on. Just know it was not a slight against you. I may be powerful enough to even bite my thumb at the likes of Drachul and even Lictros, but my privileges do not come without commensurate responsibilities."

Ruse save a slight sigh, and continued,

"I am very interested and willing to talk to you some more, but this place is not ideal. Plus, I am on the way to Babilu to try and deal with one of those world-shattering things I told you about before. If you would see me in the Valley of Mist, I might be able to accomodate you. You know, with mistellan fare and such."

He bowed. "I shall see you soon then." ((Rememeber Anik didn't say much outloud, it was all mental.)) He went to Fort Sah via the Chapel of Methodes.

Ruse shifts to mist form and swiftly heads to Babilu.

Hirsu slowly, carefully made his way towards the Chapel of Methodes.

Hirsu was met by the stunning, redheaded (and naked) Fiefmaster Jonaht at the door.

"Ah, friend," smiled the Fiefmaster. "How do you do? You seek access to the Chapel of Methodes?"

She stopped, and the smile wavered but quickly returned.

"I recognize you," she said. "Hirsu.. correct? Associate on route to Apath?"

Hirsu stopped at the sight of the gorgeous fiefmaster. His mind leaped to all kinds of interesting places and positions before he yanked his thoughts back to the matter at hand. He only hoped that his armour helped hide his natural reaction.

Hirsu quickly bowed his head for a second, inexpertly covering his shocked stare and allowing his to get better control over his eyes before he looked back up. "Indeed I am, and yes, I am seeking the way to Apath. I apologize that I do not know you, however."

(Heheheh.)

"I am the Fiefmaster Jonaht, Lady of the Chapel of Methodes," she said, bowing slightly. "Do not bother to avert your eyes. Your admiration is a great compliment, Hirsu. I appreciate virility in such a place.." She sighed. "So often does the mind-numbing bureaucracy of this place destroy one's appetite.. it is refreshing to see a God so keyed in to the forces of life. Specifically, sex."

She smiled, and Hirsu found it hard not to blush. He felt the bonds of friendship swell between them, and knew that Jonaht was at once beautiful, deadly and decent - she was a fair and just woman. No wonder that she held such an influential position: her very own charisma would do much to erect her to the heights of Conclave rank.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:00, Fri 24 Sept 2010.

Hirsu felt his cheeks heat up and colour, but did his best not to act embarrassed. After all, it was all a perfectly natural reaction, and so long as she wasn't offended, all was well. He smirked. "Thank you for the compliment. It is sad to hear that there are those who are so preoccupied with themselves they would deny hunger faced with a true delicacy."

(More necropostan')


"Intelligence is the lifeblood of any organization." Fran said, smiling as she took a long drink of water. "It's a long, awkward thought process that led me to join this branch."

Hirsu

The Fiefmaster smiled, almost shyly, at Hirsu's compliment. She did not blush, but she was most certainly pleased.

"Why do you seek Apath, my friend?" she cooed. "It is known as the Realm of Savagery for a reason. It is no place for the untrained, the rash, the arrogant.." She looked at Hirsu. "I know that you are none of those things. Still.. it is a dangerous place, and I must test your reasons before I give you entrance," she smiled. "And I must press my personal fondness for you to the side - for the moment."

Fran

"It is not unusual," said the Systemarch. "For such things to be. The Estranged Operations are difficult, sometimes, even to comprehend."

Hirsu smirked, his smile becoming somewhat self-deprecating. "The main reason is to seek out Witchstone. One of Ruse's people contracted a type of lycanthropy, and witchstone is the only cure we know of at this time. Seeing as how I diagnosed him and determined a cure, I was assigned to go to Apath and find some Witchstone to study and cure the patient. High Lord Ruse has reluctantly given me permission to enter his fief, and suggested I remain in the Southern or Western provinces. Since there's a conclave fortress in the Southern province, I will start getting my bearings there."

Hirsu


"Ah, yes," said the Fiefmaster. "So you are an associate of the illustrious High Lord. And searching for Witchstone.. by the Conclave, my friend, that is a difficult task you have been assigned. If time is not strictly of the essence, though, I might have some advice that you would appreciate hearing."

Fran

(repeat)

"It is not unusual," said the Systemarch. "For such things to be. The Estranged Operations are difficult, sometimes, even to comprehend."

Hirsu smiled and gave a brief nod. "The patient is in no immediate danger, nor is the realm from my understanding. Please, I would be happy to receive your advice."

Hirsu

Fiefmaster Jonaht nodded, smiled, and looked directly towards Hirsu.

"My first piece of advice," she said. "It is to avoid all contact with the Shage. My people are noble, kind, caring, generous.. but we also xenophobic, warlike, bloodthirsty, distrusting and incredibly dangerous. You cannot hope to best one in combat. Especially in Apath, they are quick to anger and difficult to lose. You might be born of the jungles, Hirsu - you certainly have the look on you. But listen when I tell you that the deadliest jungles of the Realm Divine have nothing," she frowned, "nothing on the Deep Jungles hidden within Apath."

She nodded.

"But that is not to say that you should travel alone. Take guides with you. People, of the Conclave, that you can trust in Apath. People immune to greed, stupidity, fever madness. Friends. Allies. Do not expect the Fort in Apath to help you - as far as my reports show, the Conclave-Lord Ruse hasn't been seen for some time and the Fort itself is the unfortunate target of many cruel attacks from the Cult. It is wild, deadly and terrifying in that kingdom. Those not born of Apath - even other Shage - always speak of the place with fear, and reverence."

Fran

(repeat)

"It is not unusual," said the Systemarch. "For such things to be. The Estranged Operations are difficult, sometimes, even to comprehend."

Hirsu nodded, and frowned to himself. He hadn't truly considered allies. In fact, he knew no others who might be able to help him in this endeavour. A weakness on his part he should work to rectify. Things had moved so quickly, however. Between travelling to Ruse's realm, creating Coatl, his personal research, travelling the Realm of Rivers, he hadn't done much socializing.

He considered the Fiefmaster's words carefully. To be honest, he had been planning to make contact with the Shage. However, with her advice strictly against it, he really should reevaluate his plans. He smiled at the Fiefmaster.

"Thank you, Fiefmaster. I will revise my plans in light of your advice.

"It will likely be some time before I can gather allies as pure as you suggest, and will not travel through the jungles without first acquiring aid. And if you are concerned regarding my safety among the Shage, I will do my best to avoid them as well. That still leaves me with the potential safe harbour of the Fort to begin my mission. Even if they will not be able to lend material support, they might be willing to provide me with knowledge of the area and people that might not be readily available in the Valley. And maybe they could use an extra healer around, especially if they often face attacks.

"Do you know of any reason I should avoid the Fort as well?"

"None whatsoever, save two possible issues," said Jonaht. "The first is that the Fort is riddled with defectors, cultists, and spies. We've found no effective way of rooting them out, and we suspect - know, even - that the Cult's presence in Apath is strong, growing stronger." She nodded. "Of course, it's been some time since I was a Conclave investigator in those lands.. things may have changed. Which leads to reason two: I am reasonably certain that at some point soon the Cult will make an attack on the Fort, and that they may win if we can't swing everything we have that way. It would be bad to get caught up on that."

She smiled. She was very pretty.

"I have.. one last piece of information you may found useful," she said, almost meekly. "But it is hidden on my body."

She did not need to wink. The innuendo was tremendous.

(In-her-do! Sorry.)

Hirsu felt himself blush, and an honest smile crept across his face. "It's odd that I haven't noticed it yet. I'd love to seek out this advice more thoroughly, if you have the time. I'd hate to arrive unprepared."

Hirsu happily follows the enchanting woman to wherever she wants to take him. (Or right there, if that's her preference.)

The sex was nice.

On her back was a tattoo, an image of supports. Originally, it seemed to be a serpent, or some kind of armless dragon; later, it was a sun; and afterwards, when Hirsu was truly spent and the Shage lay panting on the floor of her office, it was a map. A map to where?

"Beneath Fort Apath is a labyrinth older than my people. It is what the Fort is named for: the Labyrinth of Apathy is entirely deadly and destructive to any sane mind. But as a Secret Priest of Apathy - shh, don't tell my brothers upstairs - I have the solution to the maze inked on my body. Most of it is riddle, symbolism and metaphor, sure - or at least as much as it is any kind of map, but..."

She trailed off. "In the Labyrinth of Apathy you will find the Jewel of Meaning. Take it, and bring it to me." Fiefmaster Jonaht grinned. "It would dissolve my own sect and bring civil war to my kind, but it might - might! - save the Conclave."