The Underflow disgorges them into a new world and, at first it is as if their senses have failed them.

The world is all bright primary colours and flat geometric shapes - rows of purple triangles reveals themselves as being far further away than it first appeared, and with that revelation it becomes clear that they are, in fact, ranges of mountains.  Green rectangles, ellipses, and triangles become trees of some description.  The ground underfoot is level, like a well-kept lawn, but there is no variation in colour, just a constant monotonous green, dotted randomly with geometric trees, and small white mandalas which may be flowers.

A colourful bird sings in a nearby tree, and both of its eyes are on the same side of its head.

Worse yet, the travellers too have changed, blending in with the world of two dimensional shapes.  Faces are bright pink, clothing, like the world, exists in bright, simple colours.  The Archons appear to have become nothing more than plain hoops, their colours simply poor representations of their elemental natures: red for the eshurianti, brown for the danioti, pale blue for the herenethi, and pure white for sencathi, and their howls of dismay echo back from the mountain ranges.

One of the Archons sweeps around towards Cyan, a simple brown hoop, though marked with splashes of colour.  It hangs in the air before the more human travellers, + GENERA^L, WE H_AVE FO^{UND T}HE SE^RAPHIM. +  Right's voice seems strained, as if racked with something that resembles pain.

+ WE SHOULD ACT QU_ICKLY.  T^HI_S PLACE IS BARELY T_OLERAB^LE TO US. +

Cyan surveys James with a jaundiced eye as the group shifts into the world and the world shifts into them.  "Never mind revenge," she murmurs.  "I believe this tops anything I could have planned."  It doesn't concern her that she appears equally ridiculous - what matters is the image before her, one to treasure for as long as she lives.

Turning a full circle, Cyan studies the world about them with amazement and concern; of all the places she has journeyed, this might be one of the strangest.  But, no time to study it, for the Archons distress is obvious even before Right informs her of their plight.  "Hurry, then," she orders.  "Berd, if there is anything you can do...?"

On her shoulder, the drake cogitates furiously.  He can't change the world - it would be wrong - and it might prove difficult to 'bubble' all the archons in a more comfortable reality.  One of his minds reaches out, searching for the Seraphim and feeding what information he finds along the bridging.

"If you can bear us to this place, Right, in swift silence, then do so.  But if this world constrains you, Berd will manage," Cyan assures the Archon.  Sick at heart, she takes a final look at the bizarre, Picasso-esque landscape around her.  For all its alien nature, this is a quiet, peaceful place.  And now she brings war.

No.  I bring salvation, I hope.

Cyan draws her sword - in this world, a black bar in in her hand.  "Swift assessment, then battle!  We don't have time for anything else!"  the General cries, before turning to James and Banglen-Yp...all of her.  "I trust you have something else up your sleeve, James.  Banglen-Yp...I would like to keep this world's damage to a minimum, but I understand you need material with which to fight.  Hopefully you can take it from the enemy."  A smile quirks her lips beneath the General's dark eyes.  "Are both of you prepared?"

"Oh...wow!" James exclaims, reduced to near speechlessness by the oddity of the environment.  "I guess we're nearer the Courts.  What kind of place...it must somehow directly affect visual perception."

James can understand the Archons discomfort, he can feel a headache coming on as he struggles to come to terms with a two-dimensional world.

"I've something in mind, yes, but prepared?  I'm not sure.  I'll be putting my helmet on before we engage.  That'll probably cut me out of the link but Berd should still be able to track me, I hope."

 

• So •

º YOU º

‚uɐәɯ,‚

» this «

^i...

_...s

♥ N07 ♥

nor...

...MAL

The one and a few more than many Banglen-Yp-ish's spoke in one voice and a million, looking at herself and she.

 

The conditions in this bizarre world aren't just affecting the Archons.  Distances are hard to judge, sounds are flat and distorted, and the whole world seems to exert a not-so-subtle pressure somewhere just behind the eyes.

Berd reaches out an indeterminate distance, and feeds information to Right, showing him a location, who asserts that, yes, the Archons can take the whole group there.  + IT CAN B_{E DO}^NE.  IT W_ILL NO^{T B}E COMFORTABLE, BU_{T IT C}AN BE DONE. +

On command, several of the Archons swoop down and pick up members of the group.  Cyan, Berd, James, and three of the Banglen-Yps find themselves inside Right, watching through a window to the outside world as they hurtle along at breakneck speed just above the alien landscape.  The air inside the Archon is filled with a harsh shrieking and an unpleasantly nauseating vibration, quite unlike the usual calm conditions which prevail in the space within one of the wheels.

And then...

... they find themselves hurled out onto the strangely undetailed ground as Right dwindles behind them.  Ahead is an angular hill, and from beyond it come the voices of several more Archons.  Most of them seem to be in some discomfort.

"Berd should," Cyan hastens to assure James.  "But yes, the lack of a proper bridging...well, nothing to be done for it.  Your helmet is of far greater use keeping your head together than hanging at your belt."  Her smile turns to a grimace - odd upon her now twisted features - as she turns to Banglen-Yp.  "No, not normal at all...but glad am I to see it causes you no serious discomfort."

Not so the archons; her people suffer with every moment spent here.  There is a small advantage, though....

Then Right sweeps them away.  Cyan pauses in her ruminations a moment to consider Left's location.  She should ask...but not quite yet.  "A curious world indeed," she quietly notes to her companions.  "Twisting and turning us; I would come here for study, mind.  I suspect I might learn a great deal of specific styles of art."

On her shoulder, Berd sticks a thumb-like claw in his mouth and blows.  Hard.  For a moment his eyes bulge, then with a popping sound the flattened drake resumes his normal shape.  Or, rather, some facsimile of his normal shape.  Whether it be an illusion or not is open to conjecture.

Cyan doesn't even have time to shake her head at his vanity before Right deposits them - clumsily - to the flat, linear ground.  She catches herself before falling and drops into a crouch, Berd huddled precariously on her shoulder.  "Over the hill," she whispers.  "But how many?  What sort?  And...do they argue?  Berd - can you see?"

A single cloaked mind peels away, seeking a visual on the enemy.

The sensation of travelling inside an Archon can be exhilarating.  Not on this occasion, however.  The sickening vibration is bad; the eye-wrenching visuals, now amplified by Right's speed, are worse.  It is a relief to be thrown out again into the "normal" strangeness.

James manages a chuckle at Berd's trick.  It takes a fair degree of skill, and power, to overcome a world's "rules".  "Nice.  But I was thinking of trying the opposite.  Take something two-dimensional and turn it side on.  You can't see it, right?  And a blade so thin you can't even see it.  I'm thinking that's got to be sharp.  So I'm going to stand side on to a world, or try.  There's no point using my gun, anyway.  I've got no chance of judging distances."

James slings his gun across his back and tightens the strap so it won't bounce around.  He then dons his helmet and draws Fangmir.  Finally, he gives a fencer's salute to the assembled host (a side-on stance, as he promised) before turning towards the hill.

Berd is not quite his true shape, and sometimes, when he moves, he seems to flicker between something close to his usual form and something closer to his form in this world.  None of the garish shades which now colour his hide quite match his true pigments, and all lack their normal vibrancy.

Still he is close enough.  Then something strange happens... he seems to suddenly sprout a dozen extra necks, each of them bearing a head, but all of them seeming blurred and translucent.  One of the extra necks detaches and writhes away through the air like a swimming eel.  It grows more transparent as it moves away.  The remaining appendages blend and merge, until the drake has only a single  remaining head...

Nearby, James seems to be flickering in a fashion similar to Berd - with increasing frequency he seems to grow thinner and vanish unless viewed from precisely the right angle.

Until, suddenly the rapid changes stop, and he seems to become permanently invisible except from one precise angle.  At which point, even from that angle he becomes harder and harder to see.

An image blooms within the minds of those in the Bridging - only a few Archons here, all hard-at-work getting a hollow ready for the next cube, one assumes.  And not terribly enthusiastic about it, given the world itself.  It seems we are not the only ones discomfited, Cyan notes.

The bard's eyebrows rise yet again as James demonstrates further control over his self...or perhaps his self in relation to the word.  "A veritable treasure trove of skills," she murmurs, amazed at his capacity.  She, herself, has become a part of the world; hardly surprising, given her lack of connection to the Pattern or another Great Power.

"We need to move quickly," she murmurs.  "Either defeat the Archons or subsume them into our own host, then again deal with the cube."  She glances at Banglen-Yp, hoping the strange woman...women...have an infinite capacity for consumption.  And, to be truthful, a little nervous that might be the case.  "Can you deal with the cube again, Banglen-Yp?"

Berd continues his searching, now sweeping the area for hidden forces and reaching out from this sphere to track the group heading this way.  He prioritized things in favour of how close each group seemed to its destination...they ought to be close.

"I need a squad of your people in the Underflow, Right, to prevent any who escape from warning those who bring the cube," the General quietly notes.  "All the others, with me.  Once we've checked the area, we will attack en masse, breaking them or forcing a change of sides."

With some difficulty, Right marshals his forces.  The Archons seem reluctant to follow commands.  Until, that is, they start to realise that some of them will be able to leave this place.  At which point, they all want to volunteer to guard the Underflow...

Eventually though, with some effort, Right succeeds in dividing the Archons into two uneven groups.  The first flees back into the Underflow, while the second, led by Right himself, awaits further instructions.  It must be said though, that their attitude at this point seems sullen.

James meanwhile, observed by the Banglen-Yps, suddenöy seems to find the right combination of factors.  He suddenly dwindles to a hair-thin line in the air, all but invisible from any angle.

"Is it working?  I can't really tell.  I wish I had a mirror, though I've no idea how that would work in this place."

Aware that his musings are not really to the point, James abruptly changes topic "If this goes as I hope it will, you'll have difficulty seeing me and I've no easy way of telling Archons apart.  No offence, but one danioti looks pretty much the same as another to me, Right excluded, of course.  We need a way to identify each other."

"When I engage, I'll do this."  A loud wolf howl comes from the spot where James should be, and apparently still is, standing.  "It's probably easiest to just clear the area if you want to be safe, but if you're engaged close by, give an answer so we don't have any messy mistakes."

 

Meanwhile, down in the Batcave...

...or at least the batty cavorting of the multitude that was Banglen-Yp.

Moving in and out of one another and blending and constantly changing ther (their-her) shey (she-they) had been busy trying things in this evidently-not-normal world.  To themer (them-her) anything was not-normal, except where shey  came from.

Then Cyan spoke to themer and ther focus all turned to the single woman.

• OOoOOoooo  Yee^eEeeesss_SSss!  MMmMMmmmhmmMMmm,  yuMmy! •

An insane amount of tongues came out to lick twice the amount of lips, give or take double that, seeing how shey all mixed and blended together, changed constantly and generally was giving this world a reputation for being weirder then than what it was when it was less weird that what it was since shey arrived on the scene of weirdness.

 

Cyan frowns.  The morale of the Archons is an important point, and they will only follow someone who can hold both their interest and their respect.  Of course, sometimes fear proves sufficient for that as well.  ~ We will have to take a chance here, James, Banglen-Yp, and do this ourselves.  Two dozen Archons against us. ~  Herself, James with his Pattern might and new equipment, the small army of Banglen-Yp's, Right, and Berd.

Well, she has always hated even fights.

"Right.  Upon consideration, we need to ensure none of the enemy escapes, and that no reinforcements break through.  I want your forces to hold the Underflow against both intrusion and excursion."  The General grins, a feral expression.  "And oh yes; tell them to watch."  She eyes Right for a moment.  "You may remain with us, or lead them there - as you see fit, old friend."

~ I hear, James, and look forward to your 'demonstration'.  Banglen Yp - when the battle commences, deal with the Archons as you see fit.  Please keep your distance from myself, though - it is not safe, not while I hold gurthang.  Berd will engage those who take to the air to use their powers at a distance.

James, we look to you to begin. I await your signal. ~

Moving closer to the crest of the hill blocking them from the nearby Archons, Cyan grins, the smile humorless beneath pale sapphire eyes.  She swallows once, feeling fear creep over her - fear for her allies and their well-being.  Fingers flex, and she takes the Deathiron's grip in her hand, waiting for James' signal.

As she has always maintained - sometimes, one must take a chance.

On her shoulder, Berd prepares himself, slowly reaching out to gather up the reins of power of this bizarre world; abruptly, a multitude of shimmering threads spring into existance around the drake's shifting form, dancing with rainbow light like dew-drop spiderwebs in the sun.

James nods agreement, "Okay."  He moves up to the crest of the hill with Cyan and the others.  Habit makes him crouch as he gets close, even though he is no reasonably confident that he cannot be seen.

James moves up the hillside, his progress marked by a faint disturbance in the air, like a line of gossamer drifting on a summer breeze.

Behind him, assuming he is facing in his direction of travel, Cyan and Berd prepare, while the collective which is Banglen-Yp appears to view any upcoming battle as little more than another free buffet.

James reaches the crest of the hill, and for an instant he appears to his companions as a twisting prismatic line of fire, as his form catches the sunlight, bends it and scatters it around him.  If the enemy, beyond the hill, have spotted the shimmering light, though, they are clearly not in the mood to investigate.

Before him he sees Archons at work, though with little enthusiasm.  They seem more interested in starting fights among themselves than in actually preparing the area for the arrival of another cube, which appears to be what they should be doing.  There are perhaps two dozen of the creatures working at creating a hollow similar to the one in the fallen city.

But progress is constantly interrupted as two or more of the wheels find some reason to attack each other.  It seems certain that the nature of this place, which is having such a debilitating effect on the morale of Right and his troops, is proving equally irritating for the Seraphim.

Monofilament, Cyan thinks, staring after James, the word extremely out of place with her normal vocabulary.  But then, after wandering the Myriad Worlds for a dozen years, she has picked up a thing or two.  Two dozen Archons, she notes as she moves up to the hill's crest herself.  Not fantastic odds for the four of them - well, if one counts the horde of Banglen-Yp's as one, which she does - but not out of the question at all.

They had to make a good showing of it, or else she risked losing some of her support among the other archons.

"Are you prepared, Berd?" she inquires softly.  The drake nods.  Banglen-Yp...she doesn't have to ask, given the woman's terrible hunger.  James arrived at the hill's crest much before she, herself - likely he is in place, and he did state he would make the animal's haunting cry when he attacks, not when he is ready.

Which leaves it to her to begin this.

Without hesitation, Cyan strides over the hill, the deathiron a black, flickering bar in her hand.  And keeps walking into the air, as if ascending a staircase of nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon dioxide.

"Seraphim!"  Her voice rings like a peal of thunder, amplified by Berd's power to resonate in the pysche.  "Harbonah's plans collapse, and you are left to suffer in this dead world.  Join those who shall rise, or remain with those who fall, and perish!  One or the other, for there is no escape from here!"  Though Cyan doubts any will take her up on the offer, at least until they've been given some 'proof', she has to give them the chance.  And, she reflects, the proof is ready to be delivered.

On her shoulder, Berd sits up straight, his eyes a pair of whirling suns.

James is quite encouraged as he considers the prospect in the hollow below.  Twenty Archons (or a few more) and already in the mood to pick on each other.  James is reasonably confident that in his current state he could turn the Archons' quarrels into a suitably lethal brawl without their ever realising an enemy was present.

All that ceases to be a consideration after Cyan announces herself, of course.  It's quite an entrance: James knows he should be taking advantage of the distraction and he's still tempted to stand and watch.  James also finds Berd's appearance intriguing, somehow the limited visual field actually makes it easier to perceive the scope of Berd's influence.  James can't help but think that the little dragon could use that to his advantage But perhaps that's how the Archons always see him.

Tempting it may be, but James doesn't wait around.  As Cyan walks up, James jogs down, moving at a loping run to cover the ground quickly without making too much noise.  He heads for the greatest concentration of danioti.  He's not sure what effect Fangmir would have on  the other Archons but he's pretty confident he can cut the blade wheels.

Cyan's voice booms out like thunder, and the Archons pause their activities, at least briefly.  Then...

Then they simply ignore her.  They are, apparently, too busy squabbling among themselves to pay attention to mere outsiders.  If anything, their aggression seems to have intensified.  Perhaps they blame each-other for the sudden intrusion and the interruption to their regularly scheduled disagreements...

The Banglen-Yps, still a group of not-quite individuals, seem to find the whole display highly amusing as, again and again, Archons pass too close to each other, in their opinions, and skirmish briefly before moving apart and picking fights with other Archons.

And in the midst of it, invisible unless you know what to look for (and almost invisible, even if you do), James starts smashing Fangmir into any danioti that come within reach.  The blade is dangerous to the wheels, shattering metal pieces, or tearing them loose to lay inert on the flat, textureless ground.  This serves mostly to irritate the Archons who, in the absence of a clearly visible target to vent their rage, tend to turn to the nearest visible natural target - other Archons.  Yes, there are several intruders nearby, but the other Archons are closer...

It seems that now is the perfect time to settle old grudges.

And as they continue fighting among themselves, James works to keep them from calming down.  Fragments of metal ricochet off his armour, but none manage to penetrate...

Far above James, beyond his reach, one of the eshurianti suddenly seems to stop spinning, and explodes in a ball of rapidly dissipating flame.

Cyan pauses, blinking.  She expected all manner of issues with the Archons.  Being ignored wasn't one of them.  After a moment of blind, foolish disbelief, she begins to laugh.  Shaking her head, she glances up at Berd.  "Well, that puts paid to my grand entrance.  Is any of this because of you?"

Berd shrugs.  One of his minds is currently waging a subtle mental war against the Archons; it's possible the stress this creates in them is enough to further degrade their self-control, to the point where a nearby target, any target is acceptable.

"Cursed good thing I sent Right and his forces away."  Cyan shakes her head, slowly lowering toward the ground.  "Harbonah made a tactical error when he chose this world."  She studies the current violence, and sadly shakes her head.  "If we join," Cyan points out, "it will focus their attention on us.  James is doing well-enough as it is."  Indeed, James' invisible assualts have turned the Seraphim against their own.  "This work will never be completed," she muses, "but the Cube will arrive and must be destroyed."

Her eyes snap up to where one of the eshurianti erupts in a pyrotechnic, final glory.  "Continue to destroy those on high, Berd," she orders, her heart heavy.  If only they would listen.  If only this were not necessary.

If only they had not begun and perpetuated this war.

James is pleasantly surprised to find the Archons so helpfully bloody-minded, not to say vicious.  Keeping them fighting each other proved far less of a problem than he had expected.  Not one to complain, James sets about his task with a certain dogged enthusiasm.  There's no honour or glory to be had in skulking about starting fights he can't finish, but James is far too pragmatic for such foolishness to bother him.

For the most part, he continues to concentrate on the danioti since that seems to be effective, but he does look to take a pass at an eshurianti if the opportunity arises.  He wants to start a fight between a danioti and an eshurianti or a herenethi.  Watching such a fight at close quarters might prove instructive, since his primary weapon is not so far from removed from the blade-wheels.

The battle, if it can really be called that, rather than a brawl, doesn't last long.  At the end there are a half dozen Archons - three danioti, two eshurianti, and a lone herenethi - spaced out over as wide an area as possible, consistent with still being able to see the General and her army.

The field of conflict is covered with fragments of metal, scattered fires, and small craters lined with cracked, blackened glass.

The mood of the surviving Archons is subdued and sullen.  They are revolving, of course, to them it is as vital as a heartbeat, but they are doing so far more slowly than might be considered normal.  They all act in a manner which would be consistent with tiredness in a human - they seem irritable and slow to answer when addressed

The herenethi is finally appointed spokesman, though there does still seem to be some animosity, particularly among the danioti.  The wheel, not blazing with its customary actinic glare, moves forward and stops uncertainly between Cyan and the faint crease in the air which represents James.

+ WH^{AT I}S I_{T YOU W}ANT OF U^S? +

The General replies without preamble - the Archons are hurting, and the longer she keeps them here, the less likely they will listen.

"I want you to leave," she states flately.  "Leave, and do not warn those bringing the cube here.  The side for which you fight is the losing one - we have already destroyed one of Harbonah's cubes, we will destroy this one, and we will destroy the others." She steps forward, coming close to the eshurianti; Berd looks to be sweating (as much as a reptile can...), but the General ignores the danger.

"Your suffering here and your subserviance to Harbonah have been wasted, though I suspect he will care not a whit for that."

"But you can leave," she continues.  "Or join my army, watching us from the Underflow, and learn valuable secrets.  Your choice.  Make it now and go, one way or another - I will not hold you in this painful place any longer."

A message flows from her to Right, attending within the Underflow.  Right, allow them to either join or leave.  Do not prevent them, do not harm them.  This battle is over - the others will be coming.

Still keeping an eye on the Archons - both metaphorically and literally - Berd reaches out into the Underflow, seeking the incoming Cube.

"Most...impressive, James," the General murmurs, the sapphire in her eyes dark and gloomy.  "You have indeed lifted your game." Then she shudders, passing a hand across her brow, her eyes brightening in the world's curious light.  "Apologies," Cyan whispers.  "There are times..."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:56, Sun 04 Sept 2011.

One of the danioti moves and another reacts.  The air is filled with the sound of metal upon metal, and the snarling of wild beasts as the two threaten each and the third joins the dispute.

Finally they calm down without actually fighting each other, but they continue to quietly threaten and posture.

The subdued herenethi twists in the air and adopts a glowing female humanoid form with wings of flickering lightning fanning out behind it.  It drops to one knee and bows its head in submission.  + As you _command, Ge^ner_al.  We are named Anae^{l, and we} _{will joi}n you.  The_{se othe}rs are fre_e t^{o d}o as _they will. +

James keeps a watchful eye on proceedings as Cyan delivers her ultimatum.  He is tempted to intervene as the danioti bicker, but decides against it.  There is a greater chance of detection if he acts to provoke the Archons now and given an external threat they may yet prove dangerous.  Moreover, Cyan has given these survivors the chance to choose for themselves and at least the remaining Archons have the sense to listen.  They are either possessed of greater self-control than their brethren or too exhausted too fight anymore (though James doesn't have much hope of the latter).  In any case, they no longer pose an immediate threat.  Those bringing the cube are likely to present a much greater challenge.

While James admires Cyan's attempts to negotiate a truce of sorts, he is concerned that attempts to parlay may cost them an advantage in the coming encounter.  The 'fresh' Archons will not be as worn down by the peculiar visual affect of this world but they will not be familiar with it either and will probably be most vulnerable when they first arrive.

"Well and good, Anael, well and good," Cyan murmurs.  Her voice rises.  "Those who wish to join me, take yourselves out of this world - the Archons waiting beyond it are those who battle against the Seraphim.  Those who wish to leave, do so now, I will not hold you.  Anael - one question before you escape this hell."

James, we have a problem....

"Where," she asks, her jaw tight, "are the Seraphim tasked with bringing a cube here?  They have vanished, presumably taking the cube with them."

At the announcement that the Seraphim couriers have simply vanished, there comes a loud howling from the Archons, one which seems to speak more of terror than of anger or any other emotion.  When they quieten down, Anael denies any knowledge of where the cube and its bearers may have gone.  She does, however, offer a theory: + The Un_derflow i_{s dan}ge^rous.  Creatures live t_here which can de^vour Archons.  Har_{bonah has mad}e a gr^ave _misjudge^ment, in our opinion, in n_{ot sendi}^{ng suffi}cient forces to gua_{rd th}e cube^{s.  I sus}pect that such a creature mi^{ght hav}e kil_{led t}he cube bearers. +

One of the danioti suddenly shrieks, + AL_{L I}^{S LO}ST! + and lunges at one of its fellows.  The third takes this as a signal of some sort, and in an instant, all three danioti are embroilled in what appears to be a fight to the death!

The other Archons  move away from them, as fragments of metal atre thrown in all directions...

"Harbonah makes a great deal of errors," the General muses, ruby eyes dark.  "And it is always his followers who suffer.  This must end."

Then the danioti explode.

"Berd!" Cyan snaps, but the drake is already on it.  A surge of mental strength rolls over the trio of damaged danioti, aimed at pressing them apart (or rather, making them move themselves apart), accompanied by Cyan's own mental voice.

LISTEN, danioti - all is NOT lost!

In an instant, a flash of memories strikes their minds in rapid succession, bourne by Berd's strength.

...a vast, towering thundercloud sweeping over the land on legs of lightning...

...a howling sky where metal falls like rain...

...ten thousand crystalline spires, each singing with its own voice in the wind to create a natural, sweeping orchestra...

Dozens of memories follow, each of a different world, a different place.

There is so much yet to see.

It's a struggle, but another of Berd's minds peels away, shimmering in the light of the curious world, and attempts to isolate the crazed danioti from the world's deadening effects.  It may not be fully possible, but Berd seeks to alleviate the tremendous discomfort and pain.

The danioti continue to fight, ignoring everything except their own rage.  Even with Berd working to ease the pressure on their minds, and to push them apart, their natural inability to cooperate overrides everything else.

After a few moments one of them, much the worse for wear, breaks away, travelling directly upwards with a sound like a clap of thunder.  In its wake fragments of metal rain down into the bowl.  The two remaining danioti circle each other, roaring and snarling, while the other Archons stay well away from them.  Gradually the tension seems to ease.  Perhaps neither of the pair is the original instigator of the fight...

Some semblance of what passes for normality these days slowly returns.

+ Har_bonnah ^{is to}o weak.  ^We will j_{oin y}our crusade. + Anael declares, though it isn't clear if she refers to all of the Archons which remain, or just to herself.

James moves away from the brawling danioti.  His armour seems capable of stopping the shrapnel but there's no point taking stupid risks.  He takes no other immediate action and seems willing to await the outcome of Cyan's negotiations.

Damn!  That's bad.  I'd ask whether Berd can track the Seraphim...or the cube, but I guess he's already trying.  The latter is more of a conclusion than a question.  It's the obvious next step and James has considerable confidence in the little dragon's talent for multi-tasking.

Cyan bites her lip as the two Archons battle.  Her master plan is looking pretty flimsy at the moment, the test run failing utterly.  Then again...extenuating circumstances and the Archons already focused on killing each other might have something to do with that.

Berd makes the attempt, James...but he cannot discern their location.  It is possible they truly have been consumed, as Anael suggests.  Or perhaps this is a gambit...but either way, we have others on which to focus, and must deal with them.

Finally it finishes, thankfully without further loss of life between the two danioti.  One escapes, the other two remain, and Berd struggles to cover all the Archons under his power, seeking to alleviate some of their discomfiture.

"I would be thankful for your assistance, Anael," Cyan replies, satisfaction colouring her tone as her eyes lighten toward emerald.  "There will be benefits, as you will see.  Harbonah holds greater numbers, but his army is weak.  Fractious.  And I have the hammer and spike to strike at that flaw."

She turns to the other Archons.  "And you rest, make your choices.  I welcome you into this force, where many of your cousins await.  Or I give you leave to depart, unharmed - my word on that."

There seems to be a little uspoken communication between the Archons, as the remaining danioti move to hover alongside Anael, though not too close alonside her.  The eshurianti take off immediately, in opposite directions and at high speed, apparently unwilling to spend any more time in the company of their former companions.

The danioti adopt humanoid forms, an act which, on this world, appears to cause them considerable additional pain as the blades which cover their metallic skin stop moving.  They declare their allegiance and fealty to the General, and immediately shift back to the wheel forms, which gives them a small measure of relief.

At which point Anael requests that they leave this bizarre world, with all possible haste...

The eshurianti seem the most firmly committed to Harbonah.  Cyan has noted some familial links between the Archons; is it possible they feel more loyalty than normal toward one of their own kind?  Or is it competition?  Who can say?  Whatever the reason, she allows them to leave unmolested.  No doubt they will spread word of what transpired.  It will make Harbonah wonder.  It will likely make him react, and swiftly, moving to safeguard the other cubes.

They have to hurry, and not only for the sake of the archons still here.

"Very well.  We go to the next world where a cube will be placed."  Doing battle in the Underflow would be madness; not only is she uncertain of the environment, but the beings within it might take note of conflict.

"Join your brethren beyond this world," she cries as Berd plots their course.  James...it seems time for us to leave.  Will you be leaving as you are, or will you manifest yourself?  "Make yourselves known to the danioti I name Right!"  Having found the next world, Berd prepares to transport the small group of remaining Questors; he will draw them through the Underflow beside the force of Nephillim dedicated to assist them.

Time to finish this, Cyan thinks, anticipation warring with fear.  She's close now, rushing with breakneck speed toward the end...and that end is an adamantine wall.  Not long now, James, she notes over the bridging.  Not long now.

On her shoulder, Berd sits silently, keeping his counsel.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:42, Mon 19 Sept 2011.

I'll change back.  Just give me a moment to move out of sight.  I've a healthy respect for the Archons' ability to learn new tricks and I'd rather our new allies didn't know this one just yet.

James looks around for the closest point that would be out of sight of the Archons' current position and takes off at a run, the flickering light that betrays his presence wavers as he moves at speed.  A short while later he reappears, Fangmir held casually over one shoulder and, rather strangely, whistling.

"Sorry about that.  Ready now."

Berd reopens the Underflow, a process which, perhaps due to the nature of the world, leaves him drained and aching.  Right and his Archons await them, along with the new recruits.

They start to fall... dropping into the cold vastness below.  Berd, coiled upon Cyan's shoulder with his face buried in her hair and claws hooked into the shoulder of her tunic, looks thoroughly miserable.  For everybody else though, the Underflow is, just for once, a blessed relief.

Even with the great, dark shapes swimming all around them...

The Archons form a globe around them, while Right, as Cyan's second-in-command (at least in the eyes of most of the Archons) hovers a little closer and speaks to her, the strange acoustics of the Underflow deadening his voice, + GENERAL, ANAEL BELIEVES THAT HARBONAH HAS FAILED, OR AT LEAST BEEN SERIOUSLY DELAYED FOR THE MOMENT.  SHE HAS HEARD THAT, FOR THE PLAN TO SUCCEED, ALL OF THE CUBES MUST BE IN POSITION AT THE APPOINTED TIME.  ANAEL SAYS THAT THE CUBE THAT SHE WAS TO PREPARE A LOCATION FOR HAS BEEN LOST IN THE UNDERFLOW.  WE DESTROYED ONE.  THAT MEANS THAT HARBONAH CANNOT BRING THEM ALL TO THEIR APPOINTED PLACES. +

Cyan helps the little drake find a more comfortable placement on her shoulder, wincing as he tugs her hair but nothing more.  Berd seems utterly enervated and miserable; food, perhaps, will help.  They'll have to stop and get something for him.

If only he had time to sleep.

Right's news is both comforting and disturbing, on several levels.  She has no way of seeing the truth of the matter.  "Berd?" she whispers, and the dragon woozily reaches out with his senses to continue tracking the progress of the cubes.

"If that is true, Right, then we have a chance.  Now."  Her eyes narrow slight as her stomach rolls; the end may be closer than she thought.  Swallowing bile, the bard slowly nods.  "For my own plan to succeed - to have a chance of turning the tide of this accursed war - I must find a way to group as many Seraphim in one place as possible."  Her smile thins, sharpening.  "I had thought to tempt them with Harbonah's secrets.  What he has been keeping from them.  After all, was I not his General?"

Archons are nothing if not suspicious.  That their leader would have closed meetings with a creature like herself must have created quite a stir.

"Right," she slowly asks, "where is Left?"

+ LEFT, GENERAL? +  Right pulses frantically, changing size rapidly, and begins to shift back and forth.  Fidgeting.  Finally he replies, + LEFT... WOULD NOT SAY WHERE SHE WENT.  IT WAS VITAL TO THE TASK THAT OTHERS NOT FIND OUT ITS GOAL, SHE SAID.  SHE USED A PHRASE THAT WE HAD HEARD LONG AGO AMONG HUMANS - NEED TO KNOW BASIS - AND I, IT SEEMS, DID NOT NEED TO KNOW. +

+ BUT I AM, AS YOU KNOW GENERAL, CLEVERER THAN I LET OTHERS SEE.  I DISCOVERED WHERE LEFT HAS GONE, AND I HELD THE SECRET.  NONE HAVE OBTAINED THAT NAME FROM ME.  UNTIL NOW. +

The Archon suddenly reduces in size, and his voice drops to little more than a whisper...

+ HOSK.  LEFT HAS GONE TO THE REMAINS OF HOSK. +

The last few weeks and months have exposed James to more wonders than he ever dreamt could exist.  Despite that, the Underflow is still an awe-inspiring place.  The sense of scale, of size always makes him feel oddly vulnerable.

James silently considers the implications of Anael's intelligence.  If she (?) is correct, then it is not immediately necessary to pursue the other three cubes.  James wonders how that may change Cyan's broader plan.

Berd raises his head and gives Right a curious, if somewhat bleary-eyed, look.  The Archon, perhaps surprisingly, even seems to pick up on the unspoken question.

+ WE HAD HEARD THAT HARBONAH HAS SPOKEN OF THE PLACE, AT FIRST IN TERMS OF VENGEANCE AND ANGER, AND LATER WITH SOMETHING MORE CLOSELY RESEMBLING SATISFACTION.  LEFT SAID WE SHOULD INVESTIGATE THIS CHANGE OF ATTITUDE, SO SHE WENT THERE TO DISCOVER WHAT SHE COULD. +

James lowers his voice to match Right's conspiratorial whisper.

"Should I remember Hosk?  It sounds familiar somehow, but I can't place it."

"My curiosity aside, we should be careful about heading to Hosk unless we've a good reason.  Given the numbers we have here, there's a real risk we could interfere with whatever Left's working on if we arrive without knowing what's going on."

"It's your call, Cyan.  Do we go after the other cubes, check out Hosk, or find a suitable place for your plan to confront the Seraphim?"

James sounds regretful about forcing Cyan to decide.  He knows it's not an easy decision and the possible consequences of a bad choice start at disastrous and get worse from there.  On the other hand, James has great faith in both Cyan's tactical acumen and her moral judgment.  More than that, Cyan has been involved in this from the outset.  Though she may not have the ageless blood of Amber or the powers of Pattern or Logrus, James feels strongly that it will be Cyan's actions that will decide the outcome of the war.

But, you know, no pressure or anything :P

Hosk.

Cyan falls into silence for a long moment, considering this revelation.  It almost isn't surprising; of course she would, at some point, need to go there.  To see for herself.  Small wonder Left kept her destination secret.

"Hosk," she murmurs in reply to James.  "A world cindered by Dorian, enraged at my supposed demise.  Untold Archons slain in a moment of terrible revenge."  Her hand reaches out toward Right, reflexively.  "Always so clever, Right.  You see in straight lines for all your curves, and sometimes that is what is needed.  Uncomplicated is not 'easy'.  Or foolish."

Or unperceptive.

"Berd will need rest," she murmurs, considering the question of Hosk, their plans, and Left's curious intuitions.  "A fine conundrum we find ourselves in, James."  He places the ball in her court, and she grimaces.  She cannot, of course, blame him; this plan is hers.  And so...

"Right.  I need to ensure that the three remaining cubes are currently not dangerous.  We cannot risk that Harbonah has some kind of backup plan, or that he has outright lied to his subordinates.  It would not be the first time."  She studies the group around them.  "With this army, I would have you eliminate at least one other group of Archons and destroy their cube.  Or hide it - I care not which."

Two cubes would surely not be enough for Harbonah to trigger a conflagration across the Myriad Worlds.  Cyan's grimace deepens, sharpening the lines of age on her face, so different now than the clean, youthful visage of two years ago.  She had best be correct; if not, the universe will suffer.

You have said so often that chances must be taken.  Heed your own words.

"A reason to find Hosk," she murmurs, and turns amethyst eyes to James.  "Left may have discovered something critical to Harbonah's plans, something he has not shared with the others.  That, in iteself, might be a reason to see.  But more..."  Her lips thin.  "Hosk is more than a world to the Seraphim.  It is a rallying flag.  If Harbonah plans something terrible with it...if I put out my call to them from Hosk itself..."

She closes her eyes.  Full circle, it seems.  "It may be the single place to which they will gather, given enough reason."

Her eyes open, pale purple, oh so pale, and one hand rises to gently touch under Berd's jaw.  The exhausted drake coils a lock of her hair about his claws, staring closely at the threads of silver within the copper.  "What say you, James and Right?"  Her eyes shift to Banglen-Yp.  "And you, One-who-is-many?"

Right seems about to reply, and then falls silent, apparently lost in thought for several seconds.  When he speaks, though, he is filled with confidence, + GENERAL, WE ARE RELIABLE,  THE MEMBERS OF THIS, YOUR ARMY, WOULD SOONER SUFFER DESTRUCTION THAN FAIL YOU.  I KNOW ONE MORE OF THE LOCATIONS WHERE HARBONAH'S DEVICES ARE TO BE PLACED.  AT THE VERY LEAST, WITH YOUR ARMY BEHIND ME, I CAN DELAY HARBONAH'S SCHEME. +

Again the Archon pauses in thought, + IF YOU WILL GO TO... TO THAT PLACE, GENERAL, I WILL LEAD THE ARMY TO C'NACHAT'OH, THE NEXT NEAREST WORLD, AND WREAK HAVOC ON HARBONAH'S SCHEME.  IF BERD CAN SHOW US THE OTHER PLACES, I WILL ATTEMPT TO DESTROY ALL OF THEM. +

+ BUT I WILL SAY THIS, GENERAL.  IF YOU ARE DETERMINED TO GO TO THAT PLACE I WILL NOT NAME AGAIN, THEN YOU SHOULD TAKE FIVE OR SIX ARCHONS WITH YOU, FOR ADDITIONAL DEFENCE. +

Ah!  That Hosk!  "I remember now.  Not Dorian's finest hour, I'm afraid."

"I agree with Right, we are likely to need a strong defence.  We should also find a fast-time world to eat and rest before making the attempt."

James pauses as he considers the possibility (insofar as one can pause in the Underflow).

"It may be an opportunity, when you think about it.  Hosk has tremendous psychological value to Harbonah.  Archons who wouldn't have anything to do with the Seraphim could be persuaded to seek revenge on the destroyers of Hosk.  If we can find a way to re-make Hosk, both physically and, more importantly, as a symbol..." James gives another of his characteristic shrugs.  "You'll never get a better platform for your appeal, Cyan."

The Banglen-Yps seem more interested in the Underflow than in anything else, pointing at the distant shapes as they swim by, and at the shadows of worlds... shadows of Shadows?... which come into view from time to time.  One of them, though, does turn away long enough to look at Cyan and say, •• You are their General •• and then after a prolonged pause, as if that might not be clear enough, she adds, •• If what you say is good enough for them • then it is good enough for us ••

•• Their faith in you is inspiring ••

Berd, still weary it seems, nods his head slowly and stares at Right, until the Archon finally speaks, + I KNOW HOW TO FIND THESE PLACES.  THE SERAPHIM WILL BE FORCED TO FLEE BEFORE US LIKE LEAVES BEFORE THE WIND.  THOSE WHICH DO NOT WILL JOIN US, OR BE DESTROYED.  YOUR ARMY WILL SWELL, GENERAL.  YOU WILL LOOK TO THE NIGHT SKY, AND EVERY STAR WILL BE AN ARCHON, AND EVERY ARCHON ONE OF YOURS, LOYAL TO YOUR CRUSADE. +

+ I WILL ASSIGN SIX STRONG FIGHTERS TO GUARD YOU.  YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO TAKE THE STRONGEST, THOUGH, FOR I MUST LEAD YOUR ARMY. +

Hosk sits within her thoughts like a lodestone, heavy and implacable, turning her ever toward the future.  "I have no doubt in your reliability, Right, and if you speak for those you lead, neither do I doubt them."  She stares blindly into the impossibly brilliant void.  "Berd will -" and does "- show you the other places.  I leave them in your 'care', Right.  I trust you will...find an appropriate counter for Harbonah's scheme."

Right's counters tend toward the brutally simple.  Not that Right is incapable of complexity, but that it is his way, and difficult to counter.

"No.  And my name lay at the root of Dorian's mad action."  She narrows her eyes at James' words, still focusing their amythest colours upon the Underflow.  "Remake...Hosk.  You might, James.  YOU might at that.  And if not you...perhaps you and Berd both."  It's not out of the question.  Berd's power can encompass an enormous area, as can the Pattern...and James has recently discovered some VERY interesting abilities of his own.

"Six of your best, Right.  I would take you instead, and you alone - that would prove sufficient - but then as you say, you are needed here.  I leave the escort configuration to you, as you know your people and their capabilities best."  She nods once.  "Then take your advice, and James', and find a place to rest.  If necessary, I'm certain James can assist with that."

She offers the Banglen-Yp - singular, plural, both? - a weak smile.  "Glad am I for your faith...I only hope I prove worthy."

James is troubled by Right's talk of a crusade.  The purpose of their quest had been to stop Harbonah, not to substitute him with another tyrant, no matter how enlightened and beneficent.  It doesn't really seem the time to take the point, though, and James knows that, if push came to shove, he would accept control of an army of Archons if that was what was needed to preserve the Myriad Worlds.

"I can find a "fast" world without any difficulty, but I'm not sure how my method of travel works in the Underflow, it might be faster if somebody else can do it."

"I don't know whether Hosk can be remade.  The thought just occurred to me.  It would be the perfect counter-statement to Dorian's destruction.  I got the idea from the world where the first cube was to be placed.  The Pattern there was so fragile, it felt like I could pull it apart and re-shape it.  Given what has already occurred there I suspect the underlying Pattern may be either very strong or very weak.  Either way I might be unable to do it, even with Berd's help.  But with the co-operation of enough Archons?  Who knows what we might achieve?"

James pauses, then changes subject slightly, "I disagree with what Dorian did, but I don't blame him.  We were all pretty upset when you disappeared, Cyan.  I guess I'm just a bit more pragmatic.  I was always just a bit worried that the Archons would work out how he did it and do the same to my home, or Amber."

Cyan falls silent for a time, mulling over James' words.  Finally she closes her eyes and nods her head.  "I understand, James.  I...tried to hold on.  To all of you.  But it proved impossible."  Her eyes open, deep rubies that catch the void's light.  "I am sorry.  Sorry I could not hold.  Sorry for hurt it caused, before and after I...returned.  Sorry for the wound I left upon your arm, for the words I threw at you.  And I am so very, very sorry that my loss brought a world to be cindered."

She turns to face Right.  "I have no doubt that you will do as you say, Right.  None at all."  Her eyes glitter for an instant, and the palanqueti play in her mind, falling into place as if she plays the old game of foretelling.  "You will lead a vast army, strongest and sharpest of the danioti - your strength and, more importantly, your skill, will, and understanding will carry you to great heights.  In service to my cause, but your choice, the army your own."

Her smile is sad.  "Please remember my words.  I would see no worlds destroyed, no vanquished enemy annihilated.  I fight to preserve the Myriad Worlds and your people both, and if you fight in my name, you must remember this."  Her eyes glitter again, this time with unshed tears.  "You and Left...you were my only anchors for a time.  I trust you implicitly."

Her smile quirks slightly.  "I know you will do...right."

She returns her gaze to James, wiping her eyes with her free hand (Berd sits upon the other shoulder, eleven twelveths asleep).  "Ah, James, you speak of fear of reprisals, when I have seen pieces of your heart.  I do not think you would ever destroy a world to save it.  Or in revenge.  I have faith in you.  Hopefully this does not terrify you!"  The smile fades and Cyan studies the weary soldier with solemn eyes.  "I think that if there is one in this Universe who can attune the Grand Pattern to heal a world, it will be you, James.  As I said - I have faith in you."

She has had faith in many people in her life.  Sometimes her expectations proved too high, to no fault of theirs.  Sometimes they, themselves have fallen short, into darkness.  But James has always been solid, polished stone hiding a diamond within.

James...Jonnee Kay.  She laughs quietly, seeing many similarities between the two very, very different men.  "Uncomplicated," Cyan abruptly notes, seemingly out of nowhere, "is not the same as simple.  There is little of one in the other," she muses.

"Berd can find us a world.  Likely one with a great deal of food on it, mind..."

The Banglen-Yp smiles back.  Her smile is not as weak as Cyan's.  •• If you do not prove worthy • then who will ••

•• No pressure ••  The smile, if anything, grows brighter.

Right whirls away, rejoining the other Archons, which are already shifting positions, reorganising themselves into  a slightly different formation.  Six have detached from the others, three danioti, and one each of the herenethi, eshurianti and sencathi.

The six home in on Cyan, while the rest start to pull away, leaving Right hovering between the two groups.  + GENERAL.  I HAVE BEEN SHOWN WHERE I MUST GO.  I TAKE MY LEAVE NOW, BUT WILL SEE YOU AGAIN, IF ONLY TO CELEBRATE OUR VICTORY, AND OUR REUNION WITH LEFT. +

The six guardians hover close around Cyan, forming a cubic arrangement, slowly wheeling and revolving around her.  Each of them in turn gives its name - the danioti are Nariel, Staosha and Suriel, the eshurianti is named Rabacyel, the herenthi Barkiel, and the sencathi gives its name as Shalgiel.

Berd begins searching, and there is a sudden sickening wrench as their course veers towards a new destination...

Cyan breaks into laughter at the Banglen-Yp's qualification.  "No pressure indeed," she agrees, eyes sparkling.  "It is, in the end...just one more thing to do.  One life or an infinity, I have always thought the same.  'Worthiness' is only a word, in th end; 'trying' is action.  And so no pressure.  Just one more thing to help."

The universe.

But then, she is not alone.  Cyan knows if she falls, there are others hard at work.  Others still will take up the task.  Thus the quest has been from the beginning.

Tander.

Morgan.

Leonardo.

Kallika.

Jack.

Dorian.

Names of the fallen, the last by his 'own' hand.  There are more - there have been more, along the way, many of whom are unknown to Cyan.  Reaching into her pouch, she fingers a smooth rock, some coins...items 'found' by Berd when she rejoined him, and brought to her.

They stir feelings in her - sorrow, a yearning - and old, broken memories.

"Berd. You will find Tander's people?"

The drake cracks an eyelid open and nods.  Fractionally.

"Thank you, Banglen-Yp," she whispers.

Then comes Right's speech, and Cyan, for once, has nothing to say.  Instead, she raises her blade, the Underflow parting around its horrifying edge.  Could I break this, I would gift it to you, she thinks.  Nothing could stop you, then.  And with that, the words come.

"Farewell, Amabael - glad am I to have met you and yours!  Farwell, Right - I will see you when we end this!  Mark you are there, or Left will be most displeased at the lack of balance!"

Then his colourful form flashes deep into the Underflow, and he is gone.

"Goodbye," Cyan whispers, her sword falling.  Cursing softly under her breath, she swipes at her eyes with her free hand as Berd rakes his claws through her tangled, dulled hair.  "Lords of the West.  Every time it hurts more."  Reaching out, she seizes James' arm, holding on with a deathgrip.  Given his armor and prodigious strength, he likely barely notices.

"You do not have any quests to take on now, do you James?  I feel like bits of myself are stripping away."

But she rouses herself to greet the Archons by name and kind, bowing to each and giving them what honor she can.  Cyan has spent time with all their people, least of all the sencathi and most the danioti, but she knows Archons.  "You six," she finishes, "were chosen by Right.  He would have only picked those of great resourcefulness, strength, and loyalty.  I have every confidence in you, every confidence indeed."

And so they follow the course set by Berd.  "First star to the left," Cyan whispers, "and straight on until morning."

James notices Cyan's grip on his arm, though in truth his armour prevents him feeling more than a slight pressure.  The pain in her voice is more obvious, and of greater weight to James.

"No more quests." James confirms.  "All through this war, I've done what seemed best at the time, hoping that we were making a difference, maybe catching up, maybe even getting ahead.  I didn't fid the traitor in Amber, but I likely never would.  The Family and those close to them have been scheming for generations.  Tahirah has a better chance of uncovering their secrets than I ever did.  Part of me wishes Meredith was still with us.  But only part, that would be a poor use and she's been hurt enough."

"No, we're getting close to the heart of the matter now, it seems to me.  And if you're the one on whom all this is going to turn, and I think it is, then my place is here, supporting you."

"Do you remember we talked about different elements, oh, a long time ago now?  And I identified with earth?  Now think about a lever, or a see-saw if you prefer.  I see Harbonah and his ilk as the weight we have to move.  The Archons with us, and all the right-thinking people of the Worlds, they're the force pushing down, wanting change.  They might not see it as change, they might see it as the absence of change, but the way I see it, if there's no change then Harbonah wins and everything burns.  Berd, with all his power, is the lever.  You're the fulcrum.  But the fulcrum and lever have to stand on something, rest on something, just like the seesaw sits on the ground.  That's me.  Or what I'm going to try to be." James stops abruptly, seeming embarrassed by his train of thought.

OOC: Apologies for dragging in an OOC discussion, but it strikes me as the kind of thing Cyan and James might have talked about "off-screen" at some quiet moment in the quest.