Re: Floor B23 - City of Pasiap's Resolve, North Sector 1
The locale that Perian has selected appears at first glimpse to be a section of corridors that has not been visited for quite some time. Dust, debris, and darkness are the main features that come to mind. When he steps into a small alcove and vanishes, it comes as a surprise, followed by a few curses from the other 'Runners. The new route is an odd, narrow path, nigh invisible from the main way.
The walls are off, feeling wrong somehow - until Perian steps into a larger chamber, and perspective is restored. The faint patterns that did not belong in tunnel sides are perfectly suited to ancient columns and carvings, first smashed by Dragonblooded warriors, then worn down by time and water. The cave where Perian comes to a stop was once a tall room, though few signs remain of what it used to be. A pool in the center, fed every score heartbeats by another drop. A strangely blackened vent, leading away at an angle, which was perhaps a fireplace once. Columns that might have been engraved in earlier, brighter days.
"Make yourselves comfortable. I do not expect trouble here, and may have unusual visitors. You are welcome to watch, listen, or rest as you will. I would appreciate silence, though."
Formalities dealt with, Perian moves to the space between the pool and the chimney, stopping on a pile of rubble which might have been a dais. There, ceremonially, he sets down a finely carved wooden bowl and sits cross legged before it. Carefully tugging loose the cork of the wine bottle he has carried this far, he pours a significant amount inside. A bit of scrambling with flint and tinder, and a pair of incense sticks burn slowly on either side of the bowl.
"Come, all you who listen, who watch, who are the heart of the Coils. Come remember the days that were, the touch of the sun, the righteous path. Come, and be welcome, to share my drink, be warmed at my fire, enjoy my tales."
"Once upon a time, a poor couple had five children, who cared for their parents and worked tirelessly to maintain their humble farm. But bandits came wandered the land, and one morning they fell upon the first child as he ventured forth to see to the safety of the land and his family."
"Though the child fought as well as he could, the bandits were many. Even so, he might have escaped, but they were cruel, and threatened those he cared for, promising to release them if he would surrender. In the end, though he did not trust them, he went with the bandits and was clapped in chains, given a sword, and sent to battle their enemies."
"But the troubles were not over."
Perian pauses, to let his audience think of what may come next. Those most intent on the bowl before him might notice that the level of wine seems to have dropped. Smoothly, he fills it once more to the brim, and continues.
"And then, one day, while the second child was temding to the crops, the bandits came again. Once more, they attacked, once more, they threatened. The second child spoke to them, asking them why they came when they had sworn to leave the family in peace, to mourn their lost sibling."
"All you brother does is conquer, said the bandits, and we want to enjoy the fruit of his victories. Come with us to minister to the lands we have stolen, and we swear we shall not trouble you again."
"And so the second child stepped forth, knowing that they lied, but hoping that they could learn. For he knew many tales, with which to guide and instruct, but also to inspire and entertain. Perhaps, he thought, the bandits might learn righteousness from his stories, or be distracted by them."
"And so, on the first day he was presented to the bandit's leaders, the second child told them a tale, most marvelous and strange. Do you know it?"
Perian's question rings out, seeming to echo in spaces beyond those of the cavern.
"Come, make yourselves comfortable, for we are friends here, companions by choice and duty, spinning yarns old and new."
Again, he fills the bowl.
"In the days before Autumn, the second child said, There lived a lord in a great city that swam on the water. This water stretched across levels and levels, and the city's flippers were so great they could carry it from one end of the land to another in days."
"The lord was sad, although his reach was great, and he could travel to other cities, even those of the earth. Although he had the finest foods on his table, the purset music and the most glorious jewels, he was not content. Despite a great family, all promising lads and lasses who would do great things in his name, he felt hollow, as though something were missing."
"He set forth to ravage and destroy those who had angered him, and crushed them beneath his feet. He threw greater and brighter celebrations, turning to strange drugs and exotic habits when ordinary means began to pale. He threw himself into the arms of partners, willing and otherwise, seeking to assuage his emptiness."
"At last, he began to summon sages from across the land and the water, promising them fortunes if they could only tell him what he lacked. And swearing to kill them if they proved wrong. Many tried, and many died at his hands, for he was blessed with power beyond measure."
"At long last, a simple peasant came, carrying for only possession a sack of food, a straw hat, and the memory of sunshine on his shoulders."
Perian pauses, listening intently.
"Would you hear more?" he asks, softly, so as not to disturb the threads of the tale.