"The food is more than adequate, thank you."

Vos starts to eat, selecting some of the roots and leaves, but setting aside the fungii and, after a squeezing one between her fingers and sniffing at the juice, the berries.

"I do not know this name... what did you call them Say-ra-phim?  Pammon says that the Great Enemy is not one of his people, though his army is."  She stops eating, and her expression grows sombre, "Or, rather, he said I suppose, if wise Pammon is dead."

"The army, or a small part of it, attacked.  Pammon attempted to fight them off, and my own retainers tried to aid him, but we were overwhelmed.  Pammon instructed me to flee, but I only reached this place before I was struck down and left for dead."

Roman strokes his beard, considering the implications.  "Pammon was an Archon?  One of the bladed wheels?  If so, he may yet live.  We saw pieces of one such - but no way to identify which of them it might have been, or if it was a mortal wound.  Pammon might have fled, to draw the enemy away from you, or even if his form were destroyed, he might live on in another body".  Roman does not mention the fact that an enemy Archon might well have cannibalised the remains, had it won - and that had not happened.

"Pammon was a bladed wheel, yes.  My people called him Dehar'andellurand Myachortandoth, which means, approximately, 'The Sword Which Knows Truth'."

Vos raises her severed arm and studies it, with its makeshift dressing and tourniquet.  "The bleeding has stopped, I think.  I will stand now.  Will you take me to see this one you found?  It might be that I could recognise it as Pammon."

She attempts to rise, but the missing hand throws off her balance, and she slumps back into the water again...

"Pieces only" Roman answers, impressing on her that these are remains only.  "Here, let me help you up", he continues, offering an arm.  "Take care - the fragments are still sharp"

Vos assisted by Roman, makes her way slowly back to the road.  Baerin starts gathering up the food, discarding the items that the woman had not touched,  He still has the pack, with its clothing and first aid supplies.  Then he follows after Roman and Vos.

On the road, Vos stops as she catches sight of the first uniformed body, and gasps.  "I'm sorry.  I hadn't considered this.  I thought of the brave guards and retainers fighting to the death.  I had not considered that their deaths would be so gruesome."

She starts forward again, humming quietly once more.  The shattered remains of the Archon are still now, the vibration has ceased.  The creature is just so much scrap metal, laying on the road surface or embedded in it.

Vos studies the remains for a while, moving around them to study them from different angles.  Finally she announces, "It is Pammon.  This part... " she reaches down to tap one of the pieces with a fingernail, "I gave it to him as a gift.  A symbol of friendship.  It is engraved, as you can see, with the image of an eagle and three stars, the emblem of Clan Adine Valdea Moch'aldar."

Still staring at the dead Archon she asks, "Is your destination near?  I would go there, if you will take me.  I can not stay, unattended, on this road."

When a wheel of fast-spiinng blades meet flesh, what else could occur Roman thinks, but does not voice the thought.  It would be unkind, and unworthy.  ""We travel a long way on a journey that cannot be measured in miles" Roman answers.  "I do not know if there is anything for you at the far end.  If you have the power then maybe, maybe a chance for vengeance.  I can promise no more.  Maybe it would be better if we took you to your own people, if it is not too far."

"My own people are several days' journey from here, in that direction."  Vos gestures along the road, in the direction that Roman and Baerin were heading when they found her.  She stops speaking, frozen, and stares.  She had, unwittingly, pointed with the stump of her arm.

The arm, what's left of it, snaps down against her side, and she starts muttering in her own tongue, "Dtjur ach nabd desod nichat jaduckatt!"  While the words don't mean much to Roman, the tone seems angry.

She starts to walk, then, in the direction she had indicated...

Neither leaving her to make her own way, nor taking her to the Courts seem desirable options.  Roman sighs.  "Maybe we can speed your travel.."  Using the Logrus to short-cut across Shadow,  moving to Shadows where the distances between corresponding points are shorter should make the duration of the journey acceptable...

"I would be grateful for that." Vos turns, swaying noticably as she does so, "Pammon's death must be reported.  A message must be sent to his king, that he might send out agents to hunt down and slay noble Pammon's killers."

"Clearly, the sooner the message can be sent, the more likely it is that the murderers of Pammon, and of my retainers, will be found.  Vengeance will smite them."  Her face twists into a mask of fury, "King Harbonnah will not permit cowardly enemies to strike down loyal and trusted followers and escape unpunished."

Clearly there is more to be learned here.  "Well let us start.' Roman replies, preparing to use the Logrus.  "As we travel, perhaps you can tell us of Pammon.  It is rare for one of his kind to consort with other beings."

It seems odd to him that Harbonnah's enemies would target a single Archon for assassination.  Pammon's death might be a dispute within the Seraphim, and Harbonnah could well take the other side.

As Roman starts to summon the Logrus, teasing out a strand to provide them with transport, Vos leans against a boulder at the roadside.  She watches Roman for a moment, not sure exactly what he's doing, and eventually manages to regain her breath, and gather her thoughts, enough to speak.  "Pammon's king need allies for the war.  So he sent Pammon to us as one of three ambassadors.  Each of them was given a group of cities where they were to work with the local leaders to gather an army."

A brief pause as she draws a shuddering breath, "I asked Pammon, once, why the king needed our help.  The explanation was that the enemy are numerous, and allies could challenge the enemy's allies, allowing the king's forces to concentrate on fighting the enemy themselves.  Additionally, we are less discomfited by weather than some of the Archons are.  Pammon told me once that some of them do not do well when it rains or snows."

Roman sends a tendril of the Logrus out, reaching through Shadow, searching for Vos' world, while a second tendril waits, poised to coils around the trio and carry them there...

The connection is made.  The tendril ensnares Roman, Baerin, Vos, even the mounts...  There is a tug, and a brief sensation of being thrown through the air, brief yet somehow lasting an eternity.  Flashes of light, in every colour (imaginable or otherwise) streak past them, and there is a sound like every creature in the world crying out in pain and rage.

Roman is standing on a broad expanse of tesselated stone slabs.  In the distance he can see buildings, and smoke rising from a thousand chimneys.  The air smells faintly of sulphur and thunderstorms.

Behind him, blended with the sound of the nervous horses, he can hear Vos vomiting.  Baerin takes a single pace forward, and stops thirty yards away, looking around at Roman, he calls out "This is... interesting!"  Another pace, this one back towards his starting point, and he almost collides with Roman.  "Alarming, but interesting."

Roman looks around for people like Vos.  Then he looks down at the woman.  "Take your time.  Recover.  But there are things you need to know before you tell your story."

Vos continueses voiding her stomach.  In the end she is retching, even though she has nothing further to bring up.  In between, she is muttering to herself angrily as tears stream down her face, "Stultak! Stultak! Stultak!  Djomadon...  djomadon kiel dinfanot, kiu mangist tro dav kepahalia tigo en... tigo en sia tago de naskigond.  Alportukt... alportukt memkune, Vos.  Dokuso sur raciot, nek anstonktid.  Horto dek dolokestos ariumfot."

Finally she stands upright, though a little shakily, and smiles weakly.  When she speaks, her voice is hoarse.  "This place.  It is near my home.  A deserted sedacnot - I do not know if there is a word for that in your tongue - from long ago."

"I believe I am recovered."  She lifts her remaining hand and uses he sleeve to wipe at her face.  "Forgive me.  I found that mode of travel somewhat... disturbing."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:25, Sat 02 June 2012.

Roman shrugs.  "it can be uncomfortable.  But fast.  But there are things to talk about before we go further.  The first thing you need to know is that Harbonah leads the destroyers.  His victory would doom your people, your entire world."

Vos' expression twists into a sneer of outrage.  "You... you are a follower of the Despised One and his pet Traitor?"

"You lie!  It was not Pammon  who attacked and killed my people.  It was not Pammon who took my hand and left me for dead at the roadside.  It was not Pammon who levelled the City of White Blossoms.  It was the army of the Despised One, a horde of demons using weapons of power, led by Archons who have betrayed their king!  They attacked, and they cried out the name of the Traitor as a rallying call!"

Stepping back, Vos is suddenly a hundred feet away.  But not before Roman sees the growing look of dismay on her face, and the tears beginning anew.  She turns her back and stands with her head bowed.

Roman is not pleased by this display of ingratitude.  "I am a Lord of Chaos, and no mere follower!  Did I not seek to help you, return you to your home?  I speak no ill of Pammon, for I did not know him.  But I know of Harbonah.  There is war throughout the infinite worlds of Shadow.  And if you side with Harbonah, you will lose no matter the outcome of your battles!  Do you think that the people of Charyk regarded their hoe with any less affection than you hold for yours?  It was Harbonah's legions attacked that place, though the people there offered him no violence!"

"I know nothing of this Charyk!  I know only what happened here - the army of King Harbonah's enemies attacked the City of White Blossoms." Vos' eyes blaze with anger as she describes the event, "There was no provocation, and no previous knowledge of the army.  They simply appeared near the city one day and struck.  They burned the trees which gave the city its name, tore down the buildings, and put everybody to the sword.  Everybody - man, woman and child.  They left only one survivor, an old woman who was permitted to live so that she could carry word of this atrocity as a warning to others."

"When Pammon and the others came, we were told of your war.  We were told of the hatred for Harbonah among those who would see him fall.  We were told of his enemies, and their trail of pillage and destruction."  Tears are streaming down the woman's face now.

"The City of White Blossoms was our oldest city.  The first place our people lived.  It was sacred to us.  And it fell before a horde of savages who used the name of the Traitor as a battlecry!  A thousand curses and one are not enough for any who fights in her name!"

"Not so long ago I encountered an Archon who claimed to be working for The General, demanding treasures for 'protection'.  It lied.  I wondered why it would ask for things it would have little use for, but now i can guess. " Roman muses.  "How do you know that Harbonah did not send the army that attacked your city himself?  Part of a determined effort to smear those who would defend this reality from him, and his destroyers."

"How do I know you are not lying now?" Vos responds.  She throws her head back to look at the sky for a long moment, before lowering her gaze to meet Roman's.  "You found me on the road, and helped me.  An act of apparent kindness.  Pammon came here and offered my people aid.  More Archons came after, and gave more help.  More acts of seeming charity."

Her shoulders slump, "How am I to know the difference?  Pammon said that your people are the destroyers, now you say that King Harbonnah will kill us all.  You have probably saved my life, but Pammon was my friend long before I met you."

"I lack the knowledge upon which to base a decision"

"If the word of a Chaos Lord is insufficient, I doubt that I can offer any greater proof." Roman answers with a shrug.  "But you might find your own evidence.  Ask yourself which side has benefited from the events.  Look at the tasks that Harbonah requires of your people.  And consider whether you should be committing your people to a war that you know so little about."

Vos turns her back, facing towards the distant buildings in silence.

Eventually she speaks again, and her voice is steadier now, and colder in tone, "You... may be right, granted.  Pammon's king asked little in return for the aid which was given.  We had merely to lend an army for his war - a force to occupy conquered territory while his own army moved on.  Pammon and his companions seemed better able to defend us in any event, so our armies marched away to take part in what we were told was a just war."

"My brothers marched with them."

She turns to face Roman, "I do not know enough to decide who speaks the truth.  I would see other places.  Speak to other people.  Hear what they have to say about this war.  Take me with you, that I may learn the truth."

"I travel to Chaos, and I do not seek encounters along the way - they are delays that I would rather avoid.  The journey is likely to be hard, and even if you survive it, I cannot promise that I will be able to return you to your home.  Think carefully about what you risk."  Roman answers harshly.  The woman is being more than a little presumptious.

The woman's face falls, "I have but two choices.  I can remain here, and forever wonder about the truth... though from what you say, forever, may not be that long a time.  Or I can attempt to find the truth for myself.  If the journey kills me, so be it."  Vos straightens up, and though she still frowns, she raises her chin, "But if what you say is true, then I will die soon enough, even if I stay at home.  At least if I die seeking the truth I will not be wasting my remaining time dreading more attacks, whoever is responsible for them."

"You say you will not stop along the way.  If that is so then I must find my own means of travel.  A good horse and a broad road will take me far enough."

"I am grateful for the aid you have lent me, and you have my thanks, but I will detain you no longer."

Roman takes the parting with good cheer.  It is better for her that she remain in her own world, rather than be dragged into increasingly strange lands.  "Fare well, Vos.  May you find the answers you seek.  I hope that you and your people shall not die.  There are those to fight to preserve what is, against the destroyers.  The outcome of the war is yet to be decided."  And then he turns and begins to shift through Shadow, seeking Chaos...