Volya has been listening all along, having finally given in to the desire to sit during the storm of words Perian and Alivia have thrown toward one another. Perched in an adjacent chair, she has since lowered her hood, revealing her half-canine nature. The only witnesses now are the speakers, Verad, and the barkeep; even the butler has withdrawn, discreetly, to the side hall.

She clears her throat, gruffly, and begins to speak.

"Kigal Alivia and I, we've not personally met often," the Freerunner leader starts. Her High Realm is a little out of practice, and wavers on formality, but is easy enough to follow, despite the obvious low-born accent. "But I've been Free's Sector 1 authority for some time. Indirectly or not, Talonlord, you've worked with the Freerunners through me, or my people, the Mori Freerunners. Our attention to remaining discreet and professional, I hope, has satisfied so far. We're proud of that."

"I've also spent some time working with Perian himself. He's been with the Freerunners for a couple years now. He's a level-headed and straightforward man. He won't mince words and doesn't waste time with unnecessary deception. 'Specially not about the Freerunner agenda. The Boss trusts Perian implictly to serve as his Face, and to express our intentions as an organization. We really aren't a group with ambitions to rule. We want to guide the Coils into fairer and more capable hands, and empower the people to make choices about that governance. Part of the process... maybe the most painful... is revealing the truth for what it is."

She pauses, at Perian's last question of her, and shakes her head. "Heh. Perian's gone through great lengths to treat everyone around him fairly. And keep in mind that he is not one with a great amount of seniority among us. He's reached the prominence he has as one of us, because he worked at it. Cracked many a skeptic, over time. His negotations make us healthier and stronger, provided us with much needed resources. He did not have to help us. We helped his liberation, but as always the Freerunners gave him choice, and he remained by his own will. He wants to support what we are trying to do -- and he wants to include you, too. If you'll let us."

[Private to Kares Perian: And that's.. part 1 of 2 of my NPC posts. Possibly more than 2, depending. If I don't get to Alivia before bed I'll do so when I wake!]
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:10, Wed 15 July 2009.

Alivia pauses in raising her hood, riveted to her seat by Perian's words. More than once she opens her mouth -- perhaps in protest, perhaps to interject, but the man is caught up in his purpose, in shaping the message that he must bring to her, and make clear.

In the end she just lets him talk. He and Volya have her entire attention, though now and then she glances at Verad, who returns a terse nod of affirmation nearly every time. Other times he pauses to touch his earpiece communicator (a very discreet thing, blue jade shell clasped onto the ear) as if listening in on something. Toward the end of Volya's speech, the dark-haired man bows apologetically and steps away to a corner of the room, standing with his head bowed and turned toward the wall, away from the prying eyes of those who may read his lips as he returns communication.

Alivia's eyes follow Verad for only a split second, returning to Volya's face, then back to Perian's. The bartender quietly and discreetly busies himself cleaning glasses and rearranging bottles at the bar, hardly making a sound. No one else speaks now, and the air is tense and expectant as the Dragon-blood attempts to gather her thoughts, and her words.

"I've heard you out to the end. Your words are powerful ones. Let me first clarify that the leaders of the upper districts do not fear the 'truth' that the Celestials can be kind, and not monsters. No, I think that they fear their 'kindness' as another form of control -- a way for the Celestials to fool the citizens into supporting them, gain a foothold in the Coils and use it for their own calamitous ends. Paranoia, I think, is the true enemy that divides the Terrestrial from the Celestial. For who determines the truth, but the victor?"

"You are right; I am not here to earn praise and accolades by hindering your plans. My desire to aid the Freerunners in the past is because I suspect something rotten has taken root in the leadership of Coils. It is a corruption that is not always easy to see, for it had its roots in what, to all records and recollections, was a genuine desire to protect the people of the fallen Dynasty. A people who lost everything they had to Anathema conquerors, and aspired to build an even greater power, to rise up and take back what they lost one day. Every advancement Five Coils has made thus far has been for this. Every Peace Officer and Legionnaire knows this."

"Only now... as we face our own sin, the Collared ones whom we have exploited for that power, now freed from their shackles, do we begin to split between those who doubt the price is worth the cause, and those who believe all the stronger for it. Yet I, despite being a doubter, must give pause when I am told this is 'no time for wisdom.' It may be true, but to base such a momentous decision on a leap of faith?! I..." A sudden, sharp breath, and she holds her tongue for a moment, calming herself visibly.

"I can walk away from here, and go back to work. The people in this room are the only ones who know for certain I have come to this meeting. Unless the Freerunners betray me -- which, I must add, would ruin any chance you may have had to win my trust -- no one of importance will be the better for it. And so we get to the crux of what you ask me. Can I live with what will happen if I take my time while the events of this District careen toward their climax?"

Another breath in, another breath out. Alivia wrings her hands, and gazes up at the ceiling as if in supplication. In that vulnerable moment, Verad returns from his conference with the communicator and returns quietly to her side, brushing her shoulder with the barest of touches.

"No. No. I can't live with being a fencesitter. So there you have it. I will do my best to expedite the process of recruiting those who will be likely to help your cause. But with these conditions: One, you will still bring Verad with you, while I do what I must. Two, my people will not be pulled into a Celestial versus Terrestrial war. I don't believe in them as better rulers, I only believe the current regime can change. If we deploy, it will be for that purpose, and to protect the citizens from becoming unnecessary victims. Three, understand that I can withdraw my support at any time, should the Freerunners or their Celestial allies reveal their own brand of corruption, cruelty or blind ambition. I will hold you accountable, Perian. I will make sure you die if you have misled me."

"Excuse me." Verad bends to whisper something in the Dragon-blood's ear. Whatever it is, it makes Alivia's blue eyes go wide.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:57, Thu 16 July 2009.

"Thank you," Perian replies seriously, almost willing her to understand the respect and appreciation he feels for Alivia's reply and honesty both. He does not smile, or truly relax, but a flicker of relief passes on his features.

"I never considered betrayal, nor would the 'Runners have approved of any foolosh enough to try - but let the past be past. Again, Kigal Alivia, my thanks. For making your choice, and, I believe, the right one. From this moment, for me, we begin anew - in my eyes, for my self, whatever happened before is just the past, redeemed. If there is anything to it."

Still intent on his Dragonblood counterpart, he answers her conditions.

"Verad's presence was never a condition for your support. He is more welcome now than before, is all."

"The 'Runners, and I, want the people of the Coils to be free - free to choose their own ways, their own futures... But I forget myself. We will only call upon your aid in seeing to the safety of the District, or the Coils. We shall do our best to protect the people of Pasiap's Resolve in the coming conflict - and if we seek power, it will be by peaceful means."

"Though I cannot promise that certain egregiously corrupt administrators, or their property, will be left untouched. Nor will we come fully out of hiding. Habit, safety, comfort - but I am belabouring the obvious."

Perian takes a deep breath, then another, and adresses at last the main point of Alivia's conditions.

"As to your last... I can speak for the 'Runners, and myself. On their account, I'd accept cheerfully and without hesitation. I do not know the other Celestials, to swear for them so readily."

"Still, if they are as the Immaculates taught they would be, then I hope you will give me a chance to stop them before seeking my own end."

"But nevermind. I accept and understand your conditions, Kigal Alivia, and will do my best to live up to their spirit as well as their letter - because your own spirit and care are another part of the foundation on which the future will be built."

As Alivia reacts to Verad's words, Perian leans forwards. "Now that the formalities are dealt with. Is there anything we might do to aid you? I'd venture you've received bad news, though I do not know what it is."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:38, Fri 17 July 2009.

"Do not thank me yet," Alivia says seriously, raising her eyebrows as she rises from her chair, finally replacing her hood. "Not until we learn just how much help I will be to you. For now, we have a tentative alliance, but there is room for growth. Trust is something to be earned and cultivated, on both sides of the table." She extends a hand to Perian, shaking his hand with a sure, firm grip, then reclaims the calligraphy box that Verad has been holding for her thus far.

"I am, admittedly, relieved you are reluctant to swear your life for the Celestials. You have yet to be certain of an alliance with them, and have come to me first. That too weighs in your favor. Very well, we will burn that bridge when we get to it." [Private to Kares Perian: an unexpected but welcome advantage to you doing some solo diplomacy before meeting the Celestials!]

Finally, on the matter of the news she recently heard, Alivia hesitates only minutely before delegating to her companion. "Verad?"

The dark haired man in violet nods and speaks aloud for the first time, his tone deferential, though not meek. "Very well, Talonlord. Two emergency reports have surfaced on the Peace Force channels, the first originating in Floor B25. There have been multiple breaches into the bottom floor of the Earth District, Inner Temple. Reports state Orichalcum Alert, as well as demon involvement."

"The second report involves recent unrest in Pasiap's Resolve, Sectors 4 and 5. The industrial center of South Sector 5 has now been flagged as a riot zone, and the Elite Peace Force unit Burning Feather is being deployed to neutralize the situation."

"So in other words," Alivia picks up from there, "Your ... potential Celestial allies are already launching an assault on the Immaculate's major stronghold in the district. I assume you had no knowledge of this, or that it would occur during our talk?" The Dragon-blood glances at Perian, her eyes not accusatory, but nonetheless scrutinizing.

"As for the... other situation. If Burning Feather will be there, that likely means they will be using the swiftest method possible to put an end to things. I can think of a few things that may mean and none of them will be kind. Where were you intending to head after this meeting?"

[Private to Kares Perian: tenses changed slightly so we can be more fluid with time here.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:43, Fri 17 July 2009.

Volya gets to her feet too, once Alivia does. She grits her fangs at the latest developments reported by Verad, obviously troubled. "We're expected in Sector 3. Supposedly some ex-Immaculates want a crack at helping the 'Runners. And that mess in Sector 5? My cousin is there. Freyr Irjin, pack leader of Edgestrider Sept. They'd be the first of the 'Runners to have to deal with Burning Feather... but the Boss also tasked him to arrange a meeting with some Celestial folk. No idea whether they're the same ones now shakin' things up in the Temple."

"Looks like we're all spreading ourselves thin." She shrugs helplessly, and then shrugs again just to stretch her muscles, more than ready to get a move on again. "If you'll excuse me -- gotta make sure Camilla got back safely. If she ran off, it's likely because she suspected an informer. Pretty sure you won't want your precious secrecy compromised on top of everything else, Talonlord."

In her usual brusque manner, Volya nods quickly, and starts for the door to the common room without another word.

[Private to Kares Perian: Oh yeah. I should add, I'm not forcing you to go to Sector 3 if you decide you want to try to head somewhere else. Volya saying that was just a reminder that that's where you were originally going next. :)]
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:28, Fri 17 July 2009.

"If we knew when they would strike, we'd have tried to obtain your support sooner, so we could all be ready on time. Trouble in the city was inevitable, and anticipated - by us and yourself both. Trouble two floors down was not part of our plans, I don't think we have much, if any people there to exploit it."

"No, this is another of those quick moment of change, catching us before we are ready - and we have no choice but to step into it, and try to shape it into something better. To the best of my knowledge, the Celestials aim to reach Pasiap, so an attack upon the stronghold defending the Gatekeeper is no great surprise."

Perian nods at Volya's words, and adresses the Peace Force members.

"From your worries, I would guess that my own duties are the more urgent now. If Burning Feather only has to deal with a civilian uprising, and can apply all the force it can summon there, it will be a bloodbath. So, in the short term, forcing them to split up and thus give their foes a chance seems essential - and more allies can only help. In the medium term, we will need to reach the Gatekeeper or even that will not suffice."

He pauses, for Alivia to consider his words, then concludes. "But you are more familiar with the forces and weapons involved than I am. As an ally, would you suggest acting otherwise? I confess that from necessity my martial skills are limited to the here and now, rather than the march of armies."

"Whatever is done, I shall need to leave, and soon. If there are informers about, then matters are even more urgent."

[Private to GM: Sector 3 was my next step, yes. Unless you want to combine threads sooner, in which case Perian will listen to Volya or Alivia suggesting haste is more critical.

I also hoped to have a scene or two during which to perform a prayer for overall luck, success, and so forth. Which is why I wanted the wine. But the timing on that is completely fluid.]

"No... I think your assessment is closest to the truth right now," Kigal Alivia replies, nodding quickly to Perian. "I don't know how many you brought with you, but Winglord Jedevra would be accompanied by a small army of well-equipped troops. If you trust your abilities as a negotiatior enough to attract more allies to the fold in a timely manner, by all means, do so."

"I agree, we must part ways. I don't think we will have more than a few hours to do what we must. I will communicate through Verad about where we will convene next."

Verad stays with Perian, bowing his head in acquiescence (not saluting. An interesting difference.) "Good luck, Talonlord."

"And good luck to both of you," the Peace Force officer adds belatedly, starting to head for the side door she came from. She would have stepped through, if not for Volya, bursting back in from the common room with a young green-haired woman in a grey cloak.

"Wait -- Kigal Alivia, hold. Camilla wasn't able to capture the informer. Your planned mode of exit may have been compromised." Volya explains the situation outside, while the bartender hefts what looks to be a small essence cannon from behind the bar without a word. "There's uniformed men coming into the common room, asking for you. Perian... I think we'll have to either go out the back and take care of who might be waiting there, make them think she ran off. Or try to convince 'em out front to back off."

Volya signals Camilla, who promptly removes her cloak and hands it to Alivia, revealing herself armed with a repeating crossbow, a breastplate and a small sword. "You might want to exchange cloaks," the young sniper says quietly.

[Private to Kares Perian: Tying up some loose ends, which I didn't get to play with as much due to wanting to speed up a bit. I'll leave it up to you how much you want to be involved in Alivia's escape; otherwise, I can just take care of most of it in narrative and we can move to the next scene. (Which will be your chance for prayer, hopefully.)]
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:50, Sat 18 July 2009.

"Facing them would probably wreck this place, and I'd prefer not to see so much of the past be lost. We move. Although... A diversion is definitely in order, and I think I know exactly how to pull it off."

He pauses for a moment, then adresses Verad. "How recognisable are you? They may be looking for you as well, which could cause as much trouble."

He shrugs off his cloak, ready to offer it to his new companion. "Use this is you need it."

Next, he turns towards Volya, and quickly outlines his plan. "We actually have an interesting opportunity here, if we work it right. I'll head out front and keep them focused on me, and what I'm saying, leading them out. Use the time that earns you to move the more fragile people away, and Alivia. Once we're clear, hit the men with something disabling. Casualties are not optimal, we want them stirred up and confused, not out for random retribution."

"This should allow us to get our people out, minimize structural damage, and distract whatever forces are nearby. If they expect an uprising or attack here, they'll have to send troops, whether something happens or not."

Before setting forth, he glances at Alivia. "We can do our part, here - keeping the troops occupied and hammer them once we're clear. Unless, as an ally, you'd prefer to simply break through and risk revealing yourself?"

[Private to GM: Mechanicaly, I intend to use Respect Commanding Attitude, meaning that they have to pay attention to me so long as they are not attacked.

Which lets everyone else get away, ideally. Then the 'Runners drop something painful and debilitating on troops (and I can soak it if too close, so it's not an issue), and suddenly it looks like a 'Runner raid, or uprising, on a completely new front. All the hurt (but alive) trops ensure that word spreads - and it'll be about getting attacked, not about looking for Alivia. I hope.]

Camilla and Alivia trade cloaks, the Peace Force officer relinquishing hers without complaint. The Dragon-blood sighs heavily, donning the darker, less ornate garment. "That may be Mnemon Daigal. Local forces. He has been a thorn on my side lately, but his investigation on me thus far has been purely unofficial. You may be able to use that fact to your advantage."

Volya listens to Perian's plan, then gives a first, tentative nod. "Heh, if you're confident you can get their notice, I'll trust your judgment on that. I've seen what you can do. I'm also fine with getting Alivia out. Our supporting teams should be converging discreetly at the exits already."

"But, staging an attack? We shouldn't need to do that until absolutely necessary. The problem here isn't just casualties or book-burnings. Truthfully, the less heat we can bring onto the Literate, the better. Alivia's not the only one we've got to protect."

"If I may suggest," the green-haired sniper says carefully, "I think all we need to do is convince the local militia that they are mistaken that Alivia was here." She fits the cloak over her head; the garment is somewhat large on her, and just barely brushes the ground rather than remaining at ankle length.

Verad accepts Perian's cloak, as well. "I will go with Volya and Talonlord Alivia, and reconvene with you when we have exited quietly," he says to Perian, his face a mask of calm.

Unless Perian has any last comments, Alivia, Verad and Volya head toward the back exit, while Camilla (in Alivia's cloak) accompanies Perian back to the common room. There are five men there in the white uniform of the Earth District Peace Force, one of whom wears the insignia of a Captain, or Scalelord. The squad leader is currently addressing Lena, the red-haired bartender at the front, and bombarding her with questions. The other four are keeping watch on the patrons, keeping them from leaving prematurely.

The other two Freerunners that came to the Literate with Perian, Agomir and Random, are there feigning the attitude of concerned patrons.

"Good point. Quiet convincing it is, then. Probably safer, too." Perian nods self deprecatingly. "Which just goes to show that I can learn, and certainly need to."

He sets down his book on the table with an appologetic glance in the bartender's direction. "A fine read, one I'd love to pursue on another occasion. I'm afraid I don't have the time to reshelve it properly."

Before stepping into the common room, he speaks to Camilla, "Thanks for the suggestion - you may have to play the part of the person they thought they were following."


When he walks out, Perian's posture shifts into something more relaxed, deeply content at some inner level. Without seeming to notice the Peace Forcers, he heads casually for the door, only to be brought short when a soldier steps in his way.

"Well, now," he queries, matching the tones of some of the more unbearable and spoiled brats of the more fortunate merchants of Pasiap's Resolve, "What is the meaning of this, may I ask?"

[Private to GM: Playing the traditional 'foppish dandy' part that is called for under these circumstances. Perhaps a tale of forbidden (or at least embarassing) love?

Curses! Perian isn't that good at Manipulation. Ah well, that's what essence is for.]

"I believe I can manage," says Camilla before she follows Perian to the common room, unsmiling, unboastful, purely matter-of-fact. "I am not unfamiliar with the theater arts."

The bartender, still holding his 'essence shotgun' firmly in hand, simply gives Perian a polite, but grateful nod. "Your patronage is appreciated. Let's hope there will be 'another time.'"

Volya is off on her own adventure with Alivia, while Perian plays the fop with the maiden Damia at his side. The young woman puts on her most haughty and unsatisfied expression as they are beset upon by the 'uncouth' soldier. "Soran, who is this? Why is he looking at me like this?" Camilla normally speaks with little inflection, encouraging others to overlook her, but in this 'alternate persona' one can almost hear the pout in her voice, the entitlement issues!

"We are looking for an alleged traitor to the Peace Forces and the Council," the soldier says sternly. The older man with the Scalelord insignia suddenly breaks off his conversation with Lena and strides over to the 'couple'. As soon as his back is turned, the athletic bartender heaves a sigh of relief. "That cloak. Who gave it to you?" the Scalelord demands without any pretense of manners. "What are your names?"

---

OOC: ok, give it your best shot (and roll) Perian, and Camilla will do her best to follow along.

Perian peers quizically at the soldier, then blinks as his words register. "Very good. Carry on." He turns towards Camilla and does his best to reassure her. "Damia, my dear, the man is a soldier. He probably can't help it, and appears to be busy with some folderol of utmost importance to his sort. We'll just let him do his work and be off, shall we?" A step forward is interrupted by the immobile Peace Forcer who neither backs off nor moves to the side.

"Now, then, my good fellow," Perian begins, building himself up to righteous outrage at being disturbed by the agents of the law who should, by all rights, be on his side. Then the Scalelord steps up, and he deflates in the face of authority.

"Soran, er, sir? My charming companion is, of course, Damia. And yourself?" The gravity of his situation dawns upon Perian when the officer ignores his attempt at ingratiating himself and quesitons him about the cloak.

"Oh, er. A very fine cloak it is indeed, sir. Why, I'm sure that if you find it of such interest, I'll be most glad to give it to you. It is a very fine cloak, and surely one that is most suited to one of your stature and importance. No?" He quails nervously under the Scalelord's gaze.

"But it's mine! You just bought it for me!" Camilla interjects, grasping the fabric possessively.

"Now, now, Damia. If the noble, just, and righteous officer wants a cloak of such excellent manufacture, then surely it's no trouble for we simple folk to indulge his desires. Besides, I'll buy you another one."

"From the same place? The cloak with the ruffles and silk?"

"Oh, very well, but only if the officer insists." Perian assents, then adds, as an aside to the officer, "Charming girl, very enthusiastic, you know. But best kept happy, as she's got a temper, and we aren't really supposed to be seeing one another. The woman who sold me this cloak gave me a great deal, but I'll have trouble affording another at full price. Are you sure some scrip, or maybe jade, wouldn't do instead?"

---

OOC: 7 successes on Manipulation + Perform (6 personal motes spent on First Excellency). 11/17 personal.

[Private to GM: Being in character. Also, suggesting that Alivia might have sold her cloak to some harmless spoiled brats as a decoy.]
This message was last edited by the player at 05:18, Sat 25 July 2009.

"Scalelord Mnemon Daigal, Sector 1 Peace Force. But 'sir' is fine from you," Daigal says with a frown, and listens impatiently as 'Soran' gives his story, and 'Damia' whines and grouses about having to give her favorite cloak to soldiers (which is of course silly; the girl has a favorite piece of clothing every day.)

Finally Daigal waves his hand, obviously vexed at being delayed in his task by these loquacious and rather shallow individuals. "Look, forget the cloak! I don't want it. I'm looking for the woman who wore it, or one like it. Kigal Alivia."

He demands Damia remove the cloak and subject herself to a search along with Soran. Camilla, in her current role, squirms and huffs about at the very thought of having to be 'strip-searched', though that's not what actually happens. Their belongings are examined, and Camilla in particular is examined closely, her features scrutinized carefully, and -- when they are discovered -- her weapons as well. "Why is a lady like you carrying so many armaments?" Daigal says suspiciously, to which 'Damia' answers, "A lady needs to have protection nowadays! There are ruffians out there, everywhere!"

Then the Earth Aspect's expression grows serious and intent as he crosses his arms carefully. "I know the both of you are associated with the Freerunners. That alone would be enough grounds for me to arrest you." He leans closer, taking on a conspiratorial tone. "However... if you truly met with Kigal Alivia, and can testify to that effect, I can get you a light sentence. How about it?" [Private to Kares Perian: +2 stunt for you. Now, your Manip. did work, he does believe pretty thoroughly that you're a fop and you're seeing a petulant mistress. However he's desperate to find an Alivia connection here, so he used Revelation of Associates Hunch, a DB Investigation Charm. Basically it lets him know your most important allies, connections and employers.

Fortunately since you JUST met Alivia and you're not totally certain she's a permanent ally, he didn't sense anything about her, but he did find out you're working for Free! That is an entirely different problem. Of course there could be ways you can explain why you're working closely with Free that won't necessarily incriminate you, but the tough part will be trying to word it in a way that is 'the truth as you know it'. Or you could turn the tables on him, since he's basically asking you for dirt on a colleague... anyway, whether you try more smooth social skills or decide it's not worth it and just try to get the heck out, we should finish it off shortly.]

Perhaps sensing that the conversation is getting a little 'uncomfortable,' Agomir gives a discreet signal to Perian from behind Daigal's back. Lena, too, looks prepared -- they're basically saying that they'll fight if they have to, so that Perian can get out.

"Who? Well, now that I think of it, that woman didn't look like an ordinary seamstress. Do you think I might have been involved in trading in illegal goods? How exciting! Did you hear that, Damia? The Scalelord Mnemon Daigal needs my help to stamp the trade in contraband cloaks into the ground." Awed by authority and attention, Perian babbles enthusiastically once he has figured out what the Peace Force officer is after.

When Daigal reveals his affiliations, Perian's expression and self assurance collapse. He replies softly at first, but soon his voice rises to petulant whine that is audible throughout the common room. Obviously, any efforts at subtlety or discretion involving him are doomed to failure in this busy locale.

"It's not fair! Do you have any idea how tiny the stipend my parents give me is? Why, if I were to try and live on it, I'd have to cut back horribly on my food and clothing, all my friends would abandon me, and that's just for starters. It would be awful, simply awful, I tell you. Er, sir." As he speaks of all the delights he'd lose under such circumstances, he gazes forlornly at the bottles displayed inside the Literate, at Damia's fine features, at his own clothing. Then, with some envy, at the martial figure before him.

"So what if tell people where they can get food, weapons, and things like that. It means I get to live in the manner to which I have become accustomed, and," Perian's voice lowers just enough for those listening to to have to strain somewhat to hear it, making his words all the more interesting, "Bad boys have a lot of success with the ladies. Maybe you should try that to catch the girl you're after? I mean, I'm sure pulling out all the stops is a great way to make her feel wanted, but there is such a thing being too ostentatious."

Faltering before the Scalelord's cold gaze, Perian meanders back towards the topic at hand. "Well. Um. I certainly don't want to be arrested, it would simply ruin my entire social schedule. So, er, if you want me to say I've seen her, then I certainly have, and she's a tall blonde woman with a scar on her cheek. Or maybe she's a redhead with a remarkable chest? I mean, tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it, alright?"

A flicker or awareness makes its way into Perian's face. "Unless you're after that girl we saw at the mercer's shop, the one who didn't look like a seamstress. I knew there was some subtext involved when I got that cloak. Anyway, the store is just a few blocks off, so you might catch her if you hurry."

Some miracle must have occured, for a trace of craftiness follows Perian's brief contact with reality un-cushioned by money and priviledge. "But it's you're dragging us along, it'll be much slower, right? So if I give you directions, and promise to stop all my petty little dealings with the Freerunners, then we can both benefit. I don't end up in jail, my parents never hear about this, and you have your best chance at finding that shopgirl who isn't one. Alright? Alright?"

[Private to GM: And not a single direct lie in the entire performance. I'm quite proud.

If rolls are required, spend motes on Performance again.]
This message was last edited by the player at 08:18, Sat 25 July 2009.

[Private to Kares Perian: Gave a +3... I rolled for you, you got 9 successes, +2 from Appearance difference (I don't consider this guy incredibly attractive), and factoring in the fact he actually thinks his charm is working and you're telling the truth... I think you're doing fine. I wouldn't have him WP to defend something he doesn't even know needs defending, after all.]

Playing along with Perian's performance, 'Damia' turns up the pout again, sighing in obvious dissappointment. "But Soran, darling, where are we going to get the money for that pretty necklace I wanted, the one with that gorgeous fire ruby, I had my eye on it for such a long time..."

"And running with Free was so... exciting!" She gives a little thrilled shiver, then turns her gaze on Daigal directly, her blue eyes turning frosty. "Mnemon Daigal, correct? I'll make sure my family knows all about this trouble if that seamstress isn't really important to your investigation! You'll hear from House Breseid soon enough for making so much trouble for us!"

Listening to Soran's longwinded explanation, and Damia's obvious disdain for him and his soldiers, Daigal's expression goes through several stages from irritation, to incredulity, to exasperation and just plain resignation. "Breseid... I've never heard... oh, never mind! Give your directions, and hurry! I'll leave some of my men here with you to bring you to the station... we WILL have to talk again about this Freerunner connection, and I'll need your information and your statements for later. Lots of paperwork, understand?"

It isn't a completely clean escape, but two men are much easier to overpower than five. Once Perian, under his guise as Soran, gives whatever 'information' he finds most appropriate to feed, Daigal directs three of his men to depart from the Last Literate. The remaining customers, except for a bare few, scurry to make themselves scarce as well, and Perian and Camilla find themselves escorted out in the direction of the nearest Peace Force station.

The two dutiful soldiers bringing them out take a turn passing by the alleyway leading toward the back of the Literate, and are suddenly yanked into the darkness. Muffled sounds of struggling are followed by the sound of a few heavy blows... then silence. Volya steps out, wearing her hood up, accompanied by Verad and a rather spunky quarter-beast whose name Perian remembers as Pixie. "'Ey, Perian. We took care of 'em for ya," she says with an unabashed grin.

"Our new ally's gone her separate ways too," adds Volya gruffly. "Let's keep moving. Where to now?" [Private to Kares Perian: And hopefully this can help you transition toward your prayer attempt.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:18, Sun 26 July 2009.

"Much appreciated, Pixie. Incidentally, are my erstwhile 'captors' still breathing?" Perian asks. "If so, best let them know it's because the 'Runners greatly approve of Daigal. After all," his grin is brief and savage, "That fool has done us quite a service just now, in pursuing Alivia - we may as well let them know."


A few streets down, he answers Volya's question, spoken and otherwise. "The way I see it, the less reliable, loyal, and competent Daigal seems, the better for us. But that's for others to worry about, now. Our next step is in Sector three, although," he shuffles through his pack and briefly peruses a map of the area, "I'd like to drop by here," he points at an area that seems to have been abandonned for quite some time, "On the way. If I remember correctly, it's a place that was once popular with some of my more... unusual contacts. And I hope to have a drink with them, before we head into danger once more."

[Private to GM: And setting up the prayer. A simple 'travel' post, and I can get writing. Or I may run into something on the way...]

"Heh heh," says Pixie, "I like how you think. We'll make sure your message comes loud and clear. Catch ya later!" She slips away again while Perian, Volya and Verad continue on, joined by Camilla who quietly states she needs to 'get rid of extra bulk'. Likely the cloak. After all, if it attracted Peace Force attention before...

Volya peers down at the location on the map Perian shows, and after a moment shrugs and nods. "Shouldn't take us terribly long to get there." Verad accompanies the pair with hardly a comment, more an interested observer than a direct participant. At least for now.

The trio travels on foot, Volya taking creative shortcuts now and then as to bypass Peace Force patrols. They are not alone, of course. The Mori Freerunners follow at various distances, by varying means, remaining inconspicuous while never letting their pack leader or diplomat quite out of their sight. Perian only sees them in chance glimpses: feigning casual conversations across the street, passing by in delivery vehicles, now and then hurrying by while jostling Volya to pass a message. Once Perian thinks he certainly just saw Blood Sparrow, the sniper team leader, crouching from a balcony; the next moment, she is gone. Another time an altercation at a market stall draws local guards to the area, allowing Perian, Volya and Verad to skirt safely past.

Thus with no significant incident, Perian arrives at his chosen destination... [Private to Kares Perian: And it's yours! Feel free to to describe the location and your prayer, or one before the other, however you like.]

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.

Volya gestures to Verad, finding a quiet place to sit. She's seen Perian do something like this before -- many Freerunners have, through the couple years of his cooperation with them -- and while she doesn't completely understand what significance the tales have, she does know that afterward, good things often happen. Not immediately, not always exactly on time, but they do. Crops grow where they otherwise wouldn't; fresh water flow from dry rocks; an opportunistic trader brings them just what supplies they were lacking; a difficult mission goes well, while pursuers find themselves beleaguered by snapped harnesses, rocks tripping them up, unexpectedly locked doors.

Does Volya believe? Perhaps not; but she is also one that does not question good fortune, and thus is content to let the Zenith Caste spin his yarn for as long as he must.

Verad, a pensive and curious expression on his face, pulls from the depths of his coat a note pad, with which he begins to write observations as Perian lights the incense, pours the wine and begins to speak. Though Volya often peers at his writing, finding herself vexed that the dark-haired investigator has chosen to write his notes in a coded shorthand, he pays her curiosity no mind. "Fascinating," he mumbles to himself now and then, or, "Possibly quite heretical." But he doesn't stop Perian, either.

As for the true audience of the tale, they do not show themselves in physical, obvious ways. One can only truly see their appreciation from observing the surroundings. Most apparently, the bowl of wine, which periodically -- as Perian pauses, allowing his tale to sink in -- drops in level as if someone were consuming it without lifting the bowl. Now and then the incense drifts to form particular shapes: an eye, the iris formed by a circular gear in the center; a pair of hands reaching out, bound with a cord around the wrist; a single, smoky white pillar extending as high as the nearby crumbling walls. And others, not all of them clearly identifiable.

The tale winds on, and the ground trembles periodically, but not like a cave-in or an earthquake; rather a contented tremble, like the purring of a cat. A sound like gears turning fills the air, perfectly rhythmic, metallic and sure; then the music of water flowing upon river rocks, so much like the glissando of harpstrings; then the murmur of voices once silent, murmuring words in languages lost to time, punctuated by laughter and sometimes, keening tears. Footsteps appear on the earth between broken shards of rubble, imprints that fill suddenly with water, or with sprouts of green that quickly recede.

They are there. They are listening.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:14, Wed 29 July 2009.

"And so the lord had the peasant brought to him, to risk his life in answering a riddle where so many had failed and died before."

"I'll be glad indeed to help you find your way, said the peasant, But first, you must share my meal. And he reached into his bag, and pulled out a bottle of wine that he had made from his own grapes."

"It was a rough drink," Perian continues, emptying the last of his bottle into the bowl. "With none of the exquisite flavor the lord had become accustomed to. And then the peasant brought out a loaf of bread, and broke it in half, then chewed happily on his share, burned and full of poorly ground seeds. Finally, from the depths of the worn sack, he pulled out a single nut, and handed it to the lord."

"Here is your answer, if you will break the shell of outside appearances to see what lies within."

Again, Perian comes to a stop, and shuts his eyes, listening to the cave around him, feeling it, becoming a part of it. The incense burns low, and he strikes another spark to light a last stick, placed before him - not so much for the smoke, as for a brief moment of light revealing his audience and the setting around them. For that moment, it almost seems the cavern is restored, once more a shrine to gods whose names are now lost.

"As the lord cracked the nut, he felt its texture against his fingers, that had grown accustomed to steel and silk alone. The scent of the meat within brought back memories of lands tilled by farmers, towns and travellers close to the earth as the sunlight fed them and their families."

"At last, he remembered."

"When the peasant walked away from the city, into the water it swam through, and returned to the earth from which it had been born, he did not carry great mountains of jade, as the lord had offered. Nor even circlets of gold and rarer treasures. Only a jug of cider, pressed by feet that had stepped on fur and flesh and iron alone before. Then he wandered out of the tale, perhaps into another, perhaps to his home, while the sun showed him the way."

"So now, the second child spoke, Do you remember, my lords? What duties you bore in earlier days, before blood and time were all you knew? For it is not too late to serve the earth and water once more, to delight in the sun's kiss, to marvel at the moon."

Very softly, Perian concludes his story. "As to what the bandits did, and what fate befell the other children... that is another tale, for another time. I hope you will care to hear it."

---

OOC: Rolled 9 successes, target number is 6 - Resource value of the wine. So the prayer works. I hope.

[Private to GM: Spent 9 motes, currently at 6 / 17 personal. (up to 2 more if I had time to recover them via Hearthstone). Plus stunt, if any.]

Verad's pen continues to write, as he watches the various manifestations of... what could only be supernatural effects, the myriad if often subtle reactions to Perian's storytelling. "Oh... my this definitely must be..." scratch scribble scratch "...earth and water... open hands... clockwork gods...?" scribble-scratch "Ancient worship... monks would most definitely..." He shakes his head, adjusting a small round emblem on his lapel, and continues to extrapolate quietly. His demeanor is that of a learned man who has stumbled upon a dangerous, yet exceedingly interesting secret, so cannot quite keep his eyes from it, nor his analytical mind.

Volya, meanwhile, has crossed her arms behind her head and leaned back on the wall behind her bench, apparently relaxed. She may well have been sleeping, if one gauged purely by appearances -- yet now and then an arctic blue eye cracks open, peering around, or her wolf-ears twitch as if tickled by something.

Her eyes are still closed when Perian renews the incense, when that sudden burst of light reveals what could have been several hunched figures of various size and shape, seated around the bowl in a half-circle in front of Perian. It could very well have been a trick of the light: strange shadows formed from broken pillars, rubble and statues, emphasized by the match flare. Yet even if one disbelieves the vision in front of them, one cannot discount the definite presence, for the air is heavy with it, the skin tingling with the sensation of proximity.

Now the gears and the earth and the whispers have ceased; even the pool at the center of the cave is as still as a pane of glass. An expectant and palpable silence, pressing into the ears. At that moment even Verad lowers his pen, and turns his full senses toward the conclusion of the tale, and what happens after.

"Do you remember, my lords? What duties you bore in earlier days, before blood and time were all you knew?" The incense swirls at those words, forming a dense whirlpool, then from that whirlpool the foundation of a tower or pillar, surrounded by items represented with such articulate beauty in the smoke. A jeweled crown. A magnificent sword. A breastplate emblazoned with a clockwork face, upon which a joined moon and sun are etched. A cornucopia, overfull with food, and an ornate cup overflowing with water. Then, quite suddenly, the tower crumbles, burying the items of wonder. And the incense gutters out.

The wine bowl is empty when Perian is done. And around it, words are scrawled on the ground, as if by a dampened finger in the dirt. We remember. And Perian knows his prayer has been heard.

[Private to Kares Perian: Well, the wine is Res 4, since you did get one of Riven's rarities. (It may be harder to get such good wine again! but you need it this time!) I also rolled your +3 stunt dice, so you have 10 successes on a difficulty of 2. 8 successes total is quite significant! Rather than force you to dig into this thread every time you want to see the rules for the small gods' gift, I'll be PMing it to you, so we can discuss it further as needed. :)]

When his tale is over, Perian remains silent for a while, simply listening. Then he collects his bowl, the empty bottle, and what remains of the incense, bows towards his audience, tangible and otherwise, and moves back towards the tunnel leading out of the shrine.

"Well, I'm back in your capable hands until we meet our next contacts," he says to Volya as the 'Runners begin to move out, "And as we're going to be working together, feel free to use me as you feel best while we're at it."

As the group moves out, he adjusts his pace slightly, to remain near Verad. "I trust you are finding this... illuminating?" he says softly, with a hint of shared humor in his tone. "If you want to listen, and occasion permits, you'll find that many here will vouch for my willingness to talk their ears off - even with tales that are suitable to the ears of the most devout Immaculates. Though there is a lot more to the world than those."

[Private to GM: And set to move on to the next step, or be interrupted by hostilities beginning, or what have you.

Thanks for the audience reactions, by the way!]

Volya looks pleased to be on the move again, stretching out the kinks in her muscles as she walks. Not more than a few steps out of the tunnel, Pixie rejoins the group in her crop top and snug leather pants, along with Blood Sparrow, clad in a dark, thigh-length tunic, long boots and a scarf that wraps around her head and neck. With them is a dark-skinned man with his hair in small braids, the doctor-thaumaturge named Ashen Feather, in a white sleeveless coat and cuffed brown pants.

The new group of six continues on foot for a time, keeping to quiet streets and obscure alleyways.

Verad, his notepad and pen now safely stowed away, glances at Perian with a deliberately neutral expression, his interest banked now that the tale telling and strange manifestations are over. "I have no issue whether you tell stories for the Immaculates, or the heretics. I am purely an observer, and I report only to Lady Alivia. Nonetheless, your ritual would most certainly bring a Wyld Hunt down upon you should it be known to the Order, and as such, it is quite the rarity." His shoulders shrug slightly, underneath his borrowed cloak. "I admit to being surprised, that is all."

Blood Sparrow steps lightly ahead with Volya, checking the intersections ahead of time with their sharp eyes and penchant for stealth. Once they give the "all clear" signal, they beckon the whole group to cross.

"So here's the plan," Pixie says in a hushed voice as they come in sight of their destination, a back-alley loading zone for a Sector 1 shipping facility. She is quite thrilled to take part of the next leg of the journey. "If Alivia's support is true, we don't got trouble coming out of Sector 1. But we ain't ALL bettin' on walking all the way to Sector 3 like that, noooo way. So we're gonna get smuggled out!" The way she says it implies an isn't that soooo awesome?! sentiment which... no one else seems to share.

"There was not much time to prepare ahead, so we lack the best possible conditions," adds Ashen Feather, more sedately. "It will be uncomfortable." He pauses, nudging the group's attention toward a blue signal flag rising out from one of the stacks of barrel at the loading area, waving twice before descending. "And there is our ride."

[Private to Kares Perian: Well... I didn't really want to delay, so any 'troubles' along the way will be abstracted or assumed taken care of. So, will be switching to Sector 3 thread after any last words or actions you may have. We may at least be able to start over there before you go on vacation, or would you rather just wait till after the 16th?]

"Then observe as you will, and to refine your observations, do not hesitate to ask. At worst, we won't answer."

"As to the... ritual, you call it? Its forms are likely incorrect in the details, as I cobbled it together from insight, certainty, knowledge and folk tales - but the heart of the matter... That, I believe is true. Though I'll grant it's harder to observe."


Carefully surveying the site from which the 'ride' is planned to leave, Perian nods in satisfaction and moves forth. Then catches himself before his companions can, and waves them ahead. "Sorry. Shouldn't make a target of myself, I know." Looking at the area with an eye more for contents than threats, Perian says, "Let me guess. We're cargo, again?"

[Private to GM: OOC: Happy to move ahead - no reason to stop when I haven't left *yet*.

Currently, I'm 5 motes down (and have a level 2 Hearthstone) - let me know if / when I recover any motes.]

"You've got it!" Pixie says, grinning ear-to-ear. "But this time we're not pickles... we're booze."

Volya turns about, gives her a warning look. "No drinking the cargo."

"Aww..."

Of the group entering the loading zone, Blood Sparrow is the silent one, her dark gaze ever alert of her surroundings, never quite allowing herself to relax even among comrades and allies. Verad (after answering Perian's explanations with a terse nod, and a word of thanks for his cooperation) seems to take special interest in the mute woman, leading now and then to awkward staredowns, as Sparrow does not take well to being watched. His attempts to address her make quite apparent that she is either mute or unwilling to talk.

Feather explains quietly to Perian where they would be headed next, as travel preparations are made. There would be a stopover in Sector 3, trading the alcohol for medical supplies. They would have to slip out from there, and go on foot into the Quarters of the Incurably Diseased, where their next potential allies have secured a hiding place. ("...Disease?!" squeaks Pixie incredulously, as she ducks into her barrel.)

Soon, Perian once again finds himself in a very dark, very cramped space with little more than a hole the circumference of his thumb for air. Their transport lifts off, bearing the Freerunners toward East Sector 3.

[Private to Kares Perian: I have ideas for starting Sector 3 but it may not be written till 12+ hours from now. For now, this thread is closed!]