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Visitor :  Dice Roller| Game Info| The Cast |
| Part 73c - The long road. Posted by Dworkin. | Group: 0 |
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| Author | Message | Page: 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 [all][bottom] |
Aloud, James says "I know what you mean. Most places I've been, people would have been legging it for the door rather than be in here with Banglen-Yp looking like that. It could be the battle outside, but..." "Anyway, I'm ready to go whenever everyone else is." Casting an eye around to make sure his companions are ready to go, he moves to collect Corvain's belongings and (assuming that goes uncontested) starts for the door. | |||
"They will, I'm sure, want to know about the strange creature that travels with you." The Carcosan glances in the direction of the whistlers, the klakaar, who seem to be engaged in a conversation of their own, "You appear to be of the same kind as the other stranger. You will be easy for the Paladins to find, here in Carcos. Were I you, I would try to leave as soon as possible after the suns rise, leaving the hostel before morning would draw attention, but leaving at sunrise may let you reach the gate before the klakaar speaks to a Paladin. Unless you possess the same ability to simply vanish as the other had, in which case you should do so sooner." | |||
"What do you think?" James addresses his friends "Should we go now? We can disappear pretty quickly." | |||
"I travelled much, in my youth, and have seen many odd things. I even followed that same road across the Iron Waste and spent a season in the land of the Nox, who wear armour of wood and stone, speak to spirits and can take the shape of animals. My countrymen are likely to be just as calm about these matters. As I said, strangers are nothing new in Carcos." The man looks towards where others in the room seem are huddling together in groups, talking among themselves and studiously ignoring James, Cyan and Banglen-Yp. "I do not think they will report you. Your defiance of the klakaar makes you a minor hero in the eyes of many, but they cannot protect you from the Paladins should the klakaar seek to create difficulties for you." | |||
+ OR I COULD CARRY ALL, INCLUDING HARBONAH. + Left states, sounding even angrier than Archons generally do. + IT IS NO DIFFERENT, WHICHEVER OF US DO IT. IT WOULD BE THE FASTEST AND SAFEST MEANS OF TRAVEL AWAY FROM HERE, SINCE THE DESTINATION DOES NOT MATTER. + + THE DIFFERENCE IS THAT I AM TRUSWORTHY. + + NOT TO US. + Harbonah pauses, as if collecting his thoughts,+ THIS, OF COURSE, ILLUSTRATES PERFECTLY WHY ARCHONS NEED A STRONG LEADER. ONE OF THE HUMANS MUST DECIDE. + This message was last updated by the GM at 11:56, Tue 17 Sept 2013. | |||
James breaks off to speak to Harbonah directly, "I'm not sure I trust you either but we must try or this whole exercise is pointless." "Banglen-Yp, you can go with whoever you like. Or," James gives a short chuckle, "With everybody at once." | |||
Certainly not worth fighting over, at the moment. "Compromise is something we humans are good with. It has its uses," she finally notes, nodding to James. "I agree with James. We can certainly split up, and I have no issues with his choices." She has concerns, mind. Leaving James with Harbonah is a disturbing idea. But if he's comfortable... Also, Cyan trusts Harbonah in this, so long as they're working toward the goal he desires. She doesn't trust him on a personal level, but for keeping the group in one piece while they seek out a solution? In that, yes. Until a better idea comes to him, of course. "Berd and I will go with Left -" the little drake currently stares at James, his eyes burning and whirling "- and James and Banglen-Yp with Harbonah. I believe that will suffice. The others Archons will split between the two groups, as they see fit." Reaching out, she hovers a hand uncomfortably close to Left's whirling blades without hesitation, something Cyan has done in the past many times. "I comprehend lingering trust issues. But we must learn to trust one another, at least with regards to this journey. Our goals are the same. With that in mind...perhaps compromise might flourish." Berd opens up a small, subchannel to James, sealed away and invisible behind his mirrored defenses. The link includes his daughter. There are concerns, obviously, but I trust your judgement, James. And I do not believe Harbonah will betray us. He has no reason to do so, and no gain...that I can see. I/Berd {ensure/guarantee} (Heavyhand/Scarspirit) full/complete Signature/Mental Pattern {testing/scan} before/advance and after/completion of (archonjourney/engulfment). Turning to the man who has given warning, Cyan bows. "My thanks, stranger. Is there aught we might do to repay your kindness? I would know your name, at the least, that I may carry the memory through my travels." | |||
And there is a brief panic in the room as Left and Harbonah swell to a size capable of enfolding the other travellers, and two of the Banglen-Yps follow suit, apparently from sheer excitement. And then all of the Archons, real and counterfeit, are speeding through the Underflow, Harbonah and Left bearing their passengers. A brief passage only though, and they emerge on a barren, boulder-strewn hilltop, bathed in moonlight, above a seemingly endless expanse of forest, like an island jutting up from a dark ocean. A cold wind blows, and stars glitter in a cloudless sky as the James, Cyan, Berd and the human form of Banglen-Yp all emerge from within the Archons. As the travellers look out across the forest below, somebody clears their throat, and a deep voice, definitely feminine, says, "Hello Jim. It's about time you got here. Don't you know it's not polite to keep a lady waiting?" One of he boulders moves, scrambling to its feet, revealing a large quadrupedal form. A powerful, dark furred body gleaming with silver highlights in the moonlight. Wide-spaced yellow eyes stare at the group from a distinctly leonine face. "Well? Are you going to introduce me to your friends, or are you just going to stand there like a ninny?" | |||
He is somewhat nonplussed, however, to find that in his quick survey he missed a lion; a lion the size of a Clydesdale; who happens to know him by name. "I do recall somebody telling me that once, yes. It helps, though, if one knows a lady is waiting." "It's Malkia, isn't it? Malkia, may I introduce my friends Cyan, Berd and Banglen-Yp." James continues his introductions with the Archons, starting with Harbonah and Left and making his best attempt to identify the others, though he finds it difficult to distinguish between them, and concludes, "Everyone, this is Malkia." | |||
She stops a short distance away and gives a little sniff, "Really Jim, I thought Bleys taught you better that that. You might at least try a little. I am Malkia, Queen of the Endless Plain, Mother of a Thousand Prides, Hunter of the World Bull, Purr of the Creator." Malkia gives a gentle toss of her head and a roll of the powerful muscles across her shoulders as she shifts balance slightly. "Honestly, I'd be tempted to give up on you Jim, for all that I promised the Unicorn, if you didn't have such interesting friends." Malkia steps closer still until she stands in front of Berd and Cyan "You, little one, have more scents on you than anyone I have ever met. I could start listing them and we'd still be here next week." "But you, my dear, are something else again. You smell of music and colour and sadness, and that shouldn't be possible. There's a word for that isn't there? Jim, be a darling, what's the word I'm looking for?" "Synaesthesia." James replies, looking bemused. "That's the one. Yes, I can see why he likes you." Malkia gives a short, rumbling purr and moves to rub the side of her broad face against Cyan's cheek and shoulder. | |||
And another. A small smile touches Cyan's lips, and her amber eyes gather a hint of liquid sheen in the moonlight. "Doriath," she whispers, the memory striking her. Then an interruption; a voice, where none is expected. Cyan blinks, slowly turning, to regard the speaker. Her eyes widen. "Morgan," she whispers, recalling that man's friends, but no, this is no horse-sized panther. Instead, a lion, on a scale to match (and thus, even larger) and one known to James. Only..."Jim?" she inquires, one eyebrow cocking slightly. Berd has now crawled onto her backpack and hides as best she can behind her head, his own snout peeking out from within her rumpled hair. He glances at his daughter for an instant, and Cyan slowly nods. "Ah. A diminutive." She's never heard that name before. And introductions, along with a splendid series of titles. Cyan bows - she has rarely worn skirts, after all - and struggles to control her astonishment. The fabled Unicorn? This person - Malkia? - has met, spoken with, promised something to the Unicorn? She holds her ground as the great lion paces closer, noting the silvery sheen to the fur. Addressed directly, Berd loses his apparent fear and sticks his head out of Cyan's hair beside her ear and grins, thousands of needle-teeth glittering in the moonlight. The drake bobs his head in several quick nods - agreement? Greeting? Likely both. "More scents?" Taken off her guard, Cyan glances to James, then back to their...host? "It is my pleasure to greet a friend of James, your majesty." Certainly appropriate address for a queen, and of that title (and the others) Cyan has no doubt. Hunter of the World Bull? She holds carefully still as the great head lowers to her own - Berd immediately launches himself from her shoulders and scoots across the distance to perch upon James', shuffling about nervously - and sinks her weight slightly so as not to lose her balance. The fur is soft and warm, and she feels the purr in her bones; it feels like safety, and for a brief moment she struggles against tears. "Synaethesia," Cyan whispers, swallowing heavily. "You do me much honour, your majesty. I am Cyan, of No Place In Particular, and yes, I am honoured also by James' friendship." She colours for a moment, remembering the dance in the forest, remembering a thought upon a riverboat, so long before. Remebering so many other things. Desperation in her heart, stone stairs beneath her feet, and a voice crying out 'Friend!' A sword offered, a wry smile. "That's as melodramatic as I'm going to get, promise." "Tea please, Cyan, black, no sugar." "Diner food again!" "I do this because I accept the need and because we seem to be the only people to do it. And because these are my friends." "You are very welcome, my Lady of Rainbows." She clears her throat, nervously. "And I like him, as well." I've been a fool about so many things. "If I may, your majesty?" She slowly raises a hand to indicate the night sky. "What is this land?" She has a thousand more questions - 'Who are you, beyond names?' and 'How do you know James?' head the list - but it seems a good place to start. | |||
"To be honest, I have not the faintest idea where here is. I only came here because I was tracking him." She moves across to greet Banglen-Yp, sniffing the air as she gets closer, "And you... I know who you are - Jim introduced you, after all - but what you are is an entirely different matter." •• Banglen-Yp is both who I am and what I am •• the blonde woman replies with a friendly smile. "I see." •• And what I am also is pleased to meet you •• and the smile continues, and seems to grow broader and brighter. "And I to meet you." Then Malkia turns her head to look at James, the Archons dismissed as servants, or perhaps merely things. "I was asked to locate you Jim, and bring you home. And I was led to believe that this was important enough to warrant my putting considerable effort into the task." This message was last edited by the GM at 21:22, Sat 21 Sept 2013. | |||
Less-so with her disregard of the others in their group. James has already introduced them, but even so. "Malkia, as James said these are Left and Staosha of the danioti, Barkiel of the herenethi, Shalgiel of the sencathi, and Harbonah of the eshurianti, leader of the Nephillim Archons." Her voice is quiet but firm. "They are our allies in this quest and, in some cases, our friends." | |||
"Alright Jim, let's go." James is still a little flustered at having his affections so casually announced but he collects himself and responds calmly, "We're all going together. That's rather the point, Malkia." Malkia gives a quiet harumph, "I was afraid you were going to say that. Ah well, I can carry two of you easily enough. Three if I have to, though it will make the run rather less comfortable for all of us. And the little one, of course. The rest of you will just have to keep up." | |||
"Ah... that would explain the odd scent about her." With Banglen-Yp airborne, with the Archons and the rest of her, there seems littl more to do than move onwards... | |||
Poor James; he must feel trapped several ways, so she drags the narrow-eyed drake off her shoulder and presents him to the soldier. "A small gift." Berd studies James with brilliant, narrow eyes; they calm a touch, and he belches a small cloud of colourful smoke. Cyan grimaces. "Not precisely well-wrapped in a bow, but hopefully sufficient." She offers James a sad smile, touching his arm. "I would join you, but..." Berd opens and closes his eyes sleepily. My daughter would join you, James, he notes privately to the man, but cannot, for the sake of the peace and the feelings of her friend among the Archons. One hopes I shall not be eaten. | |||
Malkia moves at a steady pace, an easy, mile devouring lope which soon leaves the hilltop far behind them. Over head the stars begin to fade as crimson dawn sets the horizon alight. Malkia speaks after a little while, "I could move more quickly, Jim, if you choose to. But I would tire faster, and would grow hungrier, so would need to spend more time hunting for food. This is, in my judgement, the best balance between speed, rest, and appetite." Riding with Left, Cyan is bombarded with questions by the Archon, most of which are requests for information regarding Malkia's identity and trustworthiness, repeated and rephrased as Left tries to assess any and all threats to their mission... | |||
James briefly allows himself just to marvel in the ride, Malkia's 'endurance' pace would pass quite well for a fast horse, or city traffic, and in the easy tense and release of her powerful legs there is an imminent sense of really explosive power and much greater speed. James has never considered himself much of a horseman but Malkia's poise makes the task relatively straight-forward. He does check on Berd from time to time, though, as he's unsure whether the drake will be most comfortable. "I will leave that to your judgment. We certainly seem to be making excellent speed. I take it my lamentable tardiness is not so great that we will need to hellride?" "For that matter, I should ask, will you be guiding us or would you like me to handle that?" | |||
Said examples only hold up to a certain point, but Cyan does hope they help. Berd grumbles a little on James' shoulder, but otherwise seems to remain quiet. As always, what is on the outside doesn't at all match what is within. His curious multitude of minds are a beehive of activity, snatching data from the worlds about them while scanning for threats, correlating the information, matching it to their location among the myriad worlds (in reference to the poles of Chaos and Order), attempting to discern their destination...and carrying out the conversation. At least one mind dedicates itself solely to that, though others seem to peer in from time to time. I shall make the attempt to avoid that singularly unpleasant fate, James...I am well-acquainted with touchiness, no fear on that part. I have, after all, travelled on this quests and seen all manner of such. *amusement* I shall relay the experience to my daughter, though it is not, as you know, the same. (Heavyhand/scarspirit) sufficient/fine/excellent (perch/grip/bed) for I/Berd... | |||
They are moving across a windswept plain, and Malkia takes a stream in her stride. A single stride. Without pause her muscles punch and extend, and without effort carry her across twenty feet of fast moving water. Her riders barely even notice the switch from run, to leap, and back again. Malkia herself continues talking without pause, "Of course, I didn't have the wherewithal then. Until Dworkin used that shiny rock to impose order on the world, there were no trails for me to follow." "I'm rather glad, actually, considering the rumours I've heard about that old degenerate and the Unicorn. Which is another thing - why is she 'The Unicorn', while I am 'Malkia'? Do you not know her real name? It would be just like her not to tell people. Would you like to know her name, Jim?" And through the link Cyan and Left and the Banglen-Yps hear everything that is said... | |||
The drake shifts about uncomfortably. Some of this conversation he finds a trifle disturbing, especially the part about Malkia being around for a long, long time. He tries to avoid beings like that, and beings of power. He's not entirely certain why, but suspects it has something to do with his only dimly-remembered past. And he may have brought a trifle too much attention to himself, of late...not merely due to his exercises of control, but from the recent summons of his fragments. Dozens, if not hundreds of them now traipse through the Myriad Worlds, many grown into Something More™ thanks to their conjoining and integration with others. Sooner or later, they're going to be noticed. Perhaps, perhaps he should finish what he began, simply for safety's sake. Not here, though. Not while riding this being. Behind obdurate, clouded shields, he continues his discussion with James. Perhaps your friend knows where to find Dworkin. Is this likely, James? | |||
He rides crouched low over Malkia's back. It's not so much the lack of saddle and harness, as James trusts his own balance and Malkia's sure footing, but James' trust doesn't quite extend to the possibility that Malkia might run under a low-hanging branch if the mood took her. There is also the matter of the wind in his face. James could put his helmet on but that would spoil the fun (and make the bridging harder to maintain). "But I've no real idea how you travel or how easy it is for you. I just thought I'd offer." James is startled by Malkia's age and the suggestion that she might know the Unicorn's name. He is about to decline but hesitates when Berd interjects (to much the same effect). James resumes, "No, thanks. If she hasn't told anyone in the family after all these years, she must have a reason. I think that probably falls into the same category as asking a lady her age." "Besides, you can't tell me Malkia's your name, your true name, can you? I read somewhere that cats have at least three names. And I'm not counting those other things you're called, they're titles, not names." "Oh, and do you know where we might find Dworkin?" | |||
A sudden switch of direction to avoid an equally sudden steep drop. "Most don't even find out that much. Many don't realise that I have a name. Food does though. I always give one of my names to food, so that it knows who has hunted it, and it can die with pride." "As for finding Dworkin... of cours I can, Jim. Am I not who and what I am - the greatest hunter alive? I just need to track him like any other prey. Oh, that and remembering not to snap his spine when I catch him." Was there a hint of laughter in her deep voice? | |||
When it comes to Dworkin, Malkia's confidence is encouraging, but James wonders if it isn't misplaced. It is easy to dismiss Dworkin as a crazy old man but better, and safer, to remember that he is an old power, probably of an order of magnitude greater than the formidable Malkia, and that being crazy didn't make him any less dangerous. "Well, unless there's some other place we're supposed to be, let's go find Dworkin. We need to talk to him." | |||
For hours they parallel the crumbling , ruins of a wall, ten feet high and straight as an arrow, as it traverses the countryside, cutting across hill and valley and woodland, until Malkia turns aside, turning towards the sunset, then continuing on as night falls, and a dozen moons rise behind them like beads on a wire. Sunrise finds them on a plain of purple heather and stunted gorse, where game birds scatter before their passage, their short wings beating frantically. A brief breakfast, While Malkia hunts, and then onwards, across an ever-changing landscape. A beach, with a giant four toed foot, all that remains of a huge statue. Then night time again, and they race across an rolling plain with dancing flames all along the eastern horizon. And into marsh, dotted with twisted cypress and mangrove, all bearing shrouds of phosphorescent moss, where Malkia moves sure-footedly, but pronounces that she can smell something she would rather avoid meeting if possible. Another sunrise brings an icy land, where their breath rolls round them like fog and they speed alongside an iron behemoth which runs on rails and belches smoke and steam and embers into the frigid air. Fast as it may be, Malkia eventuually leaves it far behind. And finally, as the day draws to a close they cross over a ridge to arrive on a darkening hillside, with the lights of a city spread across the valley below. Malkia regards the city, lips curled into a sneer, "We must go around. But in the morning. For now I must hunt again. Running always makes me hungry, and it is best for those with me if I assuage that hunger." |
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