(An RP PUBLIC V10T is, in essence, a part of the Valley of Ten Towers. You may not be in two V10T's at a single time, as they are all part of the same city, though non-related Public RP's may be accessed as per usual. There are three RP PUBLIC V10T's: The Markets of Nicodemus, the Hall of the Sun, and the City, which covers everything else. Please post only in the right thread, but it is an easy matter for your character to leave this thread and enter another. An information thread will also be created, for general inquiries into the Conclave.)

The Hall of the Sun, where the Conclave administration is centered and where Gods may go to join the Conclave, speak with it's members, or otherwise do business with the organization, is the center of Conclave politics. Here the Council sits, and here the grey-cloaked Inner Circle of Odin watches over the Realm, peering with just the right combination of controlled suspicion and manic paranoia. It is open all night and all day.

The Hall is aptly named, for it is made of the strongest glass, so that the pure rays of the sun can meet it at every point of the day. During the evening, a powerful magical enchantment - which doubles as a protective measure - fills the Hall with stored sunlight. To the left of the Hall are the various administration counters and desks, which an individual may approach freely. To the right are various leather couches and free desks for individuals needing to wait or fill out forms. At the end of the room are the doors leading into the labyrinthine halls and inner chambers of the hall.

Sura Al'Amun appears at the Hall of the Sun. Where he appeared, sand came with him, making quite the mess in the hall. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings.

Anik appeared once more in the Valley Divine. Except now it wasn't called that. "Strange" he said to himself as he survayed the area. As he did so he got notice of the rules in his mind, "The alteration of messages to be public, my my, they have come a long way with getonomancy..." He says. This was the future, and it offered new challenges, but for each it would offer him new knowlage, something that in his last life he knew he had been the primary discoverer as such. But that life seemed less real than the rest... as if it was described to him, instead of lived. But then, haveing the feeling of an entire lifetime missing was no picnic either.

He wandered over to the hall of the sun, he would have of course introduced himself to whoever was incharge, but for now he must lay low, for apparently looking at the Tower of Anik (which strangly he had no memory of) is a crime. He wanders over to the Hall of The Sun and looks for an official there.

When finally he had waited in line, discovering new things such as the existence of systemarch, high ranking mortals, and several other interesting changes, he wanted some clarification.

"I was wondering if I could get access to a Library of some sort, or perhaps someone who can tell me a bit about history." He said wishing that the Divine Library had been there... perhaps it was, and just hidden.

((Posting this here, MD, to signify for you to carry on with Ruse and Clavius and stuff. Just read the main tower thread, so continuing here.))

Ruse wondered for a moment, and then replied,

"My lord Clavius, I leave that to your judgement as to which councilor would be the most sincere, generous, and forgiving in a case like this. I respect your knowledge and wisdom for Conclave workings. As for me, I will be seeing Councilman roid very shortly, on his direct orders too. If he happens to be the most sympathetic councilor then wow what a coincidence, although I defer to your judgement completely and at this point believe that the petitioning process is more in your hands than mine, as I am merely an associate right now."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:43, Thu 15 Oct 2009.

"Perhaps it interests me, though I am not sure. I am what I was, and neither what I am nor what I was knows what joining would mean, if you know what I mean?" Msonus says. He nods slightly, as if what he was saying were completely understandable. "Certainly you could elaborate?"

Ruse

Clavius gulped. A grimace formed on his face. "Well, uh, we could see Councilman Roid, if you prefer.. come with me."

They passed the grey cloaks, the desks and the lounges, towards the back of the Hall. There was a door, leading - Ruse remembered - to an elaborate series of hallways and inner cloisters within. Without bothering to show identification, Clavius wandered through, and took Ruse through a journey within the quiet places of the Hall of the Sun. The gloom within was even darker in contrast to the eternal brightness of the main hall, and soon they were walking downwards - down slopes, then steps - until Clavius reached a metal door entitled LORD COUNCILMAN ROID. There was a red electrical light next to the title, which was not switched on - this meant, Clavius explained quietly, that Roid could be spoken to, if he was within.

Clavius knocked on the door.

Msonus

"Um," said the man. "You're a mighty weird one, aren't ya? Well, a Conclave associateship means that you'll be working for us, and have access to a host've special privileges. Easy way to make some cash, and the mercenary work is the finest in the land. We treat our recruits right, we do."

Anik

"Ah, yes, of course," said the administrator. "What exactly did you want to research? Three blocks to the east rests the Public Archival Library, which can be accessed at any hour during the day, by any individual in good standing."

Sura

The sand was ignored, for the most part, though some individuals threw Sura filthy looks. He saw the desks to the left, and the couches to the right, and the line of administration counters. He saw that the place was filled with many different beings, many dressed in colourful outfits, contrasting with the nasty-looking grey cloaks that regulated the place..

Frank

"Ahahahahah," said Bronus, grabbing Frank's sleeve. "It shouldn't, uh, have to come for that. I owned a black orb, that was all, given to me by someone who was like a father. Killed on touch. I want it back, but they - they confiscated it!"

His eyes narrow on the administration desks and approaches them steadily.

Frank looked at Bronus wryly. "You're still not telling me everything. Cheat or not, you can trust me. Perhaps I could help you get it back, but only if you tell me the whole story, and only if you are willing to do something in return."

"Thank you." he tells the admin before moveing out to the Library, he happened to notice the sandy god(Sura) moveing in to the admi's desk like a panther ready to strike, he was sure to give the god wide birth. No need to get in any trouble yet, though this cause him to almost run into a blue skinned god(Ruse) quickly following a much more battle-ready one. "Excuse me." he says stepping to the side and then out of the Valley of the Sun.

It wasn't but minutes later when Anik walked once more through the doors. He found the line in which to join the conclave. When he got up to the window "I would like to join the conclave." he said simply.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:33, Fri 16 Oct 2009.

"Ah, ah, ah. Then, I think I shall join," Msonus says, ignoring the weird comment, though it almost seems as if he nods in agreement.  "If the process is not too much?"

Ruse

Clavius gulped. A grimace formed on his face. "Well, uh, we could see Councilman Roid, if you prefer.. come with me."

As they wandered through, an elfish looking figure in green and brown - with ancient eyes - passed them, saying, "Excuse me," politely.

They passed the grey cloaks, the desks and the lounges, towards the back of the Hall. There was a door, leading - Ruse remembered - to an elaborate series of hallways and inner cloisters within. Without bothering to show identification, Clavius wandered through, and took Ruse through a journey within the quiet places of the Hall of the Sun. The gloom within was even darker in contrast to the eternal brightness of the main hall, and soon they were walking downwards - down slopes, then steps - until Clavius reached a metal door entitled LORD COUNCILMAN ROID. There was a red electrical light next to the title, which was not switched on - this meant, Clavius explained quietly, that Roid could be spoken to, if he was within.

Clavius knocked on the door.

Msonus

"Not at all. Well, actually.. it depends. What're your strengths? We've got Aggressive 'Rations," he said, cutting off the Ope- in Operations, "Which is war and fighting and gunpowder and action, a real man's sport, and then we've got Familiar 'Rations, which is research and stuff, a little lighter on the stomach. Finally, there's Estranged 'Rations - spy work, real Jonathan Bont stuff, assassinations and cloaks and daggers, good for cowards and the clever men.. what'll it be?"

Anik

"Yeah, name, realm, oath of innocence, please," said the administrator, who was either bored or frighteningly efficient - probably both.

Sura

The line was long, but Sura noted that he wouldn't have to wait for very long if he joined one.

Frank

"That is the whole story," said Bronus. "I swear it on my mother's grave! Nothing else to tell!"

And join one he did. He stood still, seemingly patient.

Ruse knew that he had to do this. If Roid really was against the revival and was merely using very dubious means, then he knew that Ruse knew and given that they both knew, then the natural result would be for them to form an alliance and build trust. If Roid was going to misuse the osiris items somehow, then Ruse would just have to play dumb and fork them over now to throw off the scent so to speak, and try to retreive them later. Although his first impression of Roid was more the former, although he wondered about why the councilor would chose to utilize dubious methods. Perhaps Roid had the exact same problem that Ruse did - he didn't know who he could trust!

Ruse emptied his mind of the racing thoughts, and instead just decided to with-hold judgement until more information became available.

Ruse waited for a response from within for a few moments, and opened the door if beckoned. If a great deal of time passed, he opened the door slowly, as Clavius had already knocked. Roid was expecting them of course, and since it dealt with the Osiris items, Ruse was sure that Roid purposefully made sure he his office light was off right now. He'd be crazy to not  meet with Ruse over this, as Osiris was not some passing matter.

"Anik God of Craft and Knowlage, Bounty, I have not commited any crimes nor plan to." He says going with the flow.

"I suppose the dreams will guide as the dreams will, but eyes seem Estranged... Perhaps that will be me as well," Msonus says, popping an eye in front of his outstretched hand.

Ruse

The door opened as if by some unseen hand. Ruse saw, within, a beautiful, antique desk - behind it, Roid, in his grey cloak and wearing reading glasses over two of his many eyes. The Systemarch looked a little easier to approach, a little friendlier, but..

Still an amazing being.

He looked at Ruse, then Clavius. He smiled, but it was an exasperated one. He looked busy..

"Ruse? Ruse. Good to see you. Yes. The items, you can place them on the desk. Thank you. Five hundred Conclave Stones will be deposited to your account. Good job. Then we are done," he said, "Thank you."

Ruse noticed he had bags under most of his eyes. Ruse's keen eyes noticed the labels of some of the papers on his desk, besides reading TOP SECRET and ICO MARK 5, also read OSIRIS-RA PROBLEM THE SHRINE, and, finally, TUTHMUTHUT.

Msonus

"Estranged," said the man. "Mmmmm-hmmm. Understand that there will be an intensive psyche test if you join the Estranged Operations. You willing to handle that?"

Anik

"Good, good," said the administrator. "Now, what sort've Operations were you interested in? Familiar, Estranged, Aggressive?" He didn't bother explaining the terms. Anik could be expected to know.

Sura

Eventually, Sura reached the end of the line. It took a surprisingly short amount of time. The administrator was a short, vaguely attractive young man.

"May I help you?" he asked.

Frank

(repeat)

"That is the whole story," said Bronus. "I swear it on my mother's grave! Nothing else to tell!"

"It depends, doesn't it? Are you testing for my sanity?
The dreamer scores little marks there, good sir" Msonus says with a sudden grin. "But then, perhaps if one would need eyes eyes one need not care for the sane...

Then, the searching is for something different, in psyche? Please, share?"

Ruse drifted away from Clavius, and approached Roid's desk. He held out his hands, and in his left appeared a silver dagger (the osiris dagger not the quabala one) and in his right, the lead box with the osiris part in it. He deposited them on the desk in front of Roid, making sure that they didn't touch - in fact they were spaced at least a foot or two apart.

"Councilor, I thank you for your generos gift of conclave stones. I have confirmed that these two items do indeed have a connection to Osiris - you'll find them to be quite genuine. To be honest though, I think your methods about this were most dubious, but I will not question you about that. Instead, I want you to know that I personally do NOT want that monster to be revived to wreck destruction across the tree, fragile as it is now. I acquired them from a man whose motives seemed most dubious to me, yes. I didn't know who to trust with these, given the climate surrounding this situation, so I kept them myself as I can shrug off the corruptive influence of these items. But I have reason to believe that you too would prefer Osiris to stay dead, so here I am with the items."

Ruse sighed a bit, and stepped back.

"Councilman Roid, I have heard very reliable rumors that the cult of Osiris is stirring in the ruined city of TUTHMUTHUT, so I headed over here as fast as possible lest some enemy discovered the items first. I want you to know that I am of the rare zealous gods, and despite my own dubiousness I am constantly fighting to protect the tree of life. You are a fascinating man Roid, and I wonder if we can't work together as allies in the future, especially against threats like Osiris? With all that has happened, and the fact that I am here now giving you the items and not with the enemy in the ruined city, you should be able to trust me at least this much, I hope. At the very least, know that there is at least another person near you who also sincerely wants to fight against Madness and taints to the tree."

((OOC, just to let you know Ruse has told the sincere truth, just in case it may matter. Ruse does actually give Roid the two osiris items he has.))

Sura stares at the man. "What do you do here?" he asked.

Ruse

"Hrrrnh," grunted Roid, in an expression of acknowledgment. "My methods are my own. They are what is needed. You've heard about the rebirth of Osiris-Ra, then.. I warn you, Ruse, that it is not a rumour, and it is most certainly not something you should concern yourself with. Much, much too dangerous. You will - no, you will not enter Tushmuthut. Even with your advanced," he smiled, making Ruse feel very uncomfortable, "abilities, you would only mess things up more. Now it's a matter of damage control. I thank you for your concern and for your cooperation, but this is bad business. You best leave it."

Clavius said nothing.

Msonus

"We're testing for psychic abilities, mostly," said the administrator, a little confused, "But also for anarchistic or violent tendencies towards the Conclave."

Anik

(repeat)

"Good, good," said the administrator. "Now, what sort've Operations were you interested in? Familiar, Estranged, Aggressive?" He didn't bother explaining the terms. Anik could be expected to know.

Sura

"We are the Conclave," said the man, his voice a little sarcastic. "What do you think?"

Frank

(repeat)

"That is the whole story," said Bronus. "I swear it on my mother's grave! Nothing else to tell!"

Sura eyes the man, up then down. "I seek...", he started. He placed his hand down on the desk, sand pouring out of his sleeve, spreading across the surface. "Your leader. I want to meet him"

"Familiar Opperations, preferably research." He said quickly hopeing to get past all of this sort of administrative work, reminds him way to much of a cirtain god of lists. He didn't feel his sort of crafting would be useful in mass production, but better for say, the market. But his skills in knowlage and what they might grant him for research would definatly help.

Msonus nods, and bows his head slightly.

"Then I am ready, sir."

Ruse nodded courteously. He would stay away from the city for now, at least until he heard rumors of Osiris going back into relapse again. Roid was right - Ruse was not quite ready to be facing a foe like that yet. Although there were other ways of helping the conclave and especially the tree of life besides straight-up confrontation.

"Oh, and by the way councilman Roid, lord Clavius has been so kind as to come with me here to help me petition against the execution of Summers. I believe that the Conclave is acting too much out of anger in executing him, and humbly petition the Conclave to spare his life and please downgrade his offense category. If he was able to do such hacking, then he must be a man of great skill - skill that the conclave could utilize for its own benefits. Of course, we would be instructing summers under our most watchful eye."

It was interesting to Ruse how cowed Clavius was right now. Clavius probably somewhat realized that Ruse also was not merely some unimportant associate either. He would watch the future with great amusement.

"Lord Roid, I am willing to assist the Conclave with this, and take Summers on as a personal servant as a payment to us for reducing his sentence and saving his life. I feel that he would be a most valuable tool to the Conclave given his particular skillset, if molded properly and provided the correct tutelage in discretion and choice of action of course. Now more than ever I feel we need to gather resources to bolster our effectivenes against our enemies."

Ruse bowed his head, and added,

"I thank you for hearing my petition, and I will most graciously accept your lordship's judgement on this, be it if you choose to let him live or die. I merely had to do my duty as a concerned member of our glorious institution, and share with you my concern."

"Well how can there be nothing else to tell when you've barely told me anything?"

Frank was starting to get visibly agitated.

Crailek appears silently, and looks around. He knew he was supposed to be here, but earlier he had found no sign of what to do. For the moment he simply stands and waits, figuring if they wanted to talk to him so bad, they wouldn't jerk him around, and actually show where to go.
He still felt a bit annoyed about the bullet to the leg. He had experienced that feeling before, and he was still sure he didn't like it.

Ruse

Roid looked at Ruse, all of his eyes accept one closed. It was the Systemarch facial expression that meant, roughly, 'Are you an idiot?'

"You are aware," started Roid. "Of Riddel's support for the Cult of Osiris-Ra? The fact that he is a second-degree member of that dread faction? Perhaps, if you are not, you've heard stories two years past of the bombings of the Chapel of Methodes? His work. We'd just caught the bastard. We're not letting him go."]

The eyes opened again. For some reason, Ruse was relieved.

"Ruse," he said, "You are a deeply talented individual with several peculiar abilities. You will go far in the Conclave. I am sure of it. But still, I cannot trust such a talented technician and devoted of Osiris-Ra into anyone's hands accept Mother Death's. Anything less, I'm afraid, would be breaking my sacred Callisti oath," an eye winked, "And you know how important they are to the ethical core of the Conclave."

Msonus

The man nodded.

"Come with me, then, Msonus.."

Msonus was led to the back of the Hall, through winding, dark corridors, and finally to a door marked PSYCHE TESTING. The door was opened, and Msonus saw a friendly looking Systemarch filing through some papers. His desk was next to a long, black restrainer bed - straps and all - where, Msonus assumed, the tests would be underdone.

"Good afternood," said the Systemarch. "My name is Bludt, and I'll be overseeing your test. Now, just to clarify.. you're here for the Estranged Operations, right? You have no psionics? What's your name, please."

Anik

"Hmmm," said the administrator. "Familiar Operations it is. Sign here, and someone'll swing by your Realm to give you your oathsword and orders. Good-day."

Sura

"There is no single leader," said the administrator, annoyed. "It is a well-documented fact that the Conclave is run by a democratic Council of Ten members. Do you have an approved appointment with one of the Councilmen?"

Frank

"Sir," said Bronus. "I like you. I do. But please, consider how rude you must seem, visibly distrusting a man you've just met! Oh, if I wasn't so enamored with you, I'd almost be livid!"

Crailek

Crailek saw that, through all the commotion in the Hall, there was a rather long-looking line - moving along fast enough - in front of the administration desks. Presumably, this was where he had to enquire.

Sura coughs violently, sand expelling from his mouth as he does such. "Demo... cratic?", he smiles slightly, "No appointment. I will speak to someone in authority now."

Anik signed the paper. And then exited the Hall of the Sun.

Ruse couldn't help but grin at Roid. They danced around one another like cats (and Roid's sarcasm with the Callisti really made a point to Ruse), yet at the same time were totally seeing eye to eyes on things. It was a most fascinating interplay to watch, quite frankly.

"My lord Councilman, I deeply respect your judgement on this and will withdraw my petition. I suspected that he was involved in a highly criminal element, although was unsure if reform was possible or not at this stage. It seems by what you say that reform is impossible at this point, and in that case I defer to your wisdom and agree that Summers should be executed - both for his own good and that of the Conclave."

Ruse sighed though with some disappointment, and continued,

"I just feel that in these dark times, that not speaking up about certain concerns could be just as costly as dismissing them. In this case, the potential to utilize a resource personnel versus throwing away such a potential tool. But if reform is simply not possible, then the resource becomes too dangerous to spare, and there is no point to even making the effort. I just am always on the lookout for potentially new and viable tools for our operation."

Ruse bowed his head respectfully, and said,

"Thank you very much councilman for taking a moment and listening to my concerns and hearing me out. Even though we both agree now that summers should be executed, I think that having an inquiring mind like we do may one day be the difference between victory and loss at the hands of our enemies. If you need assistance with anything in the future, please do not hesitate to let me know. I will try to accomodate your needs as best as possible."

Msonus looks at the restraints rather than the systemarc, staring at the black bed and straps. He takes a breathe and sighs quietly to himself. His third eye flicks over to glance at who he was talking to.


"No psionics, sir, " Msonus says. He seems to stop, as if remembering something.

"but ah, where are my manners? I suppose you enjoy hearing the full name around here, yes? Then I am Grey Hierophantasm Msonus the First of the Lesser Realm of the Hills of Som, Returned God and Fragile Thaumaturgist of Mysticism and Dreams. It is a pleasure to meet you Bludt, though I do hope it remains that way. It wouldn't be very pleasant if we did not enjoy it anymore."

Crailek heads over to the line and waits in it with a deadpan expression.

Frank looked at the God of Cheats, for some reason sure that he was somehow being cheated...

"Sorry, friend. I did not mean to get upset like that. The problem is, I can't really see any way out of your current predicament."

He turned to the officials. "Hello gentlemen. Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain to me why this man cannot have what is rightfully his?"

Ruse

"Thank you, Ruse," said Roid. "I like you, even as your unorthodox approach to Conclave politics is something that bewilders me and heartens me equally at times. Listen closely," he growled, not unfriendly, "We're both aware of your little trick. We both know I could destroy you right here. But in troubled times like these, with bastards like," he spat, a common habit among Systemarchs, "Lictros in power, sucking the Dhaal of the Cult of Osiris-Ra, and the problems in Niborkerese, and.. Tushmuthut.."

He drifted off. Clavius was silent, a distant expression in his eyes - the Systemarch had put his mind to sleep.

"I wish to give you a personal deal. I want you to work with me, but I can't allow such a loose cannon to exist. I want you to be my personal.. inquisitor, of sorts, but in order to fully do that I'd need to know - one hundred percent - that I could trust you. This would involve, I fear, measures taken by me to ensure that. Using a tooth. Honestly, I didn't want to mention it to you, but the Leviatus are restless and I fear the Tree is in further danger.. my hand is forced. You are the sneakiest bastard I've met in a long time."

Roid looked at Ruse square in the eyes.

"Well? What're you looking at? Give me an answer. Will you bind yourself to my pursuit? To the safety of the Tree above all else?"

Msonus

"Hahahahahaha!" bellowed Bludt. "Oh, I do like your sense of humour. Now, if you'd lie down upon the bed, I'll begin the probe. You won't feel a thing, I promise."

Sura

"Friend," said the administrator diplomatically, "If you take a seat I will send a Low Lord to meet you as soon as possible. Please. Be patient."

Frank

"What man?" growled one of the grey-cloaks. "I suggest you speak sense, lowling, lest I poke you full of holes."

Bronus was gone.

Crailek

Crailek should cheer the fuck up. It's the end of the world!

He soon reached the front of the line, and an administrator waved him over.

"Yes?" she asked. "How can I assist you?"

Sura looks at the man harshly then did as the man said - taking a seat and waiting.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:46, Tue 20 Oct 2009.

Ruse considered for a moment, and was a bit sad that him giving over the osiris items was not proof enough. However, he equally understood what was motivating Roid - the councilman could not be too careful right now. Ruse could be be an enemy still despite everything. Although Roid was smart and his hunch about Ruse being affiliated with the tree was correct.

He didn't know how to respond to Roid. Did he tell him that systemarch teeth wouldn't work on him? Did he take it and just placate Roid? Did he display his trustworthiness by admitting the truth to Roid - a HUGE deal for a mist god full of secrets? Ruse decided that in this case, telling Roid the truth was literally the greatest way of displaying his sincerety. Ruse could offer Roid no better assurance of his sincerity.

Ruse shook his head, and replied,

"Don't bother wasting a tooth. I will offer you something far more personal for a mist god...something that will be so hard for me to do that you will have to know that I am sincere. I will offer you the truth. I will tell you something about myself that no other being knows, and in displaying my vulnerability to you I hope that you will see my sincerity."

Ruse moved closer to Roid, and whispered into the spider's ears in case the walls had ears.


Ruse then stood back, and said aloud,

"However, if you still prefer, I will submit to your tooth anyways, in so far as being related to desiring to protect the tree and everything else we've talked about. I respectfully accept your offer Councilor, and hope that my "proof of sincerety" was to your satisfaction. Again, I freely offer my soul's destruction to the Master Divine if I have lied to you right now about my intentions."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:56, Tue 20 Oct 2009.

Msonus does not laugh, having not made a joke in his own eyes, but he does smile at the cheerful noise. He gets onto the bad and lies down, hoping indeed that Bludt did not make promises idly.

He appears through shadow in a fashion similar to crailek's. He remember the divine valley the open fresh air and the beauty of the marketplace. This was death to him cold marble and intricate designs of metal and glass. What mockery was this? Although slightly upset by this development he remembered what he came here to do. To speak to the conclave itself. Moving forward to the line he looks about and wonders in his heart of hearts if this was what the world had truly become? Was this what was left?
*beat*
The heart, he would follow his heart.

Crailek shrugs to the woman. "I am unsure. I am Crailek of the Lesser Shadowlands. I have a feeling that I am supposed to be here."

Ruse

"Very well," said Roid. "I hope that -"

There was a crashing scream from above, and the electric lights within Roid's study flickered and went out. The roar of the crash was horrifying, as if the entire glass Hall of the Sun had been destroyed, and Ruse heard - telepathically rather than aurally - the screams of several dozen beings above. Chips of rubble fell from the stone roof, and then there was a terrible howling, as if a tornado had swept entire Valley..

Ruse fell to the floor, his head in agony. It was too much. Too much. He saw an unblinking red eye.. a city in the sand.. the dying screams of too many people..

For once, telepathy wasn't such a boon.

"I - I.." continued Roid, clearly shocked. "What -?"

A second, less horrible howl rose from nearby. Emergency sirens.

Sura & Crailek & Foun

There was a howl as a gust of wind, carrying pure white sand in its hands, spread across the Hall of the Sun. Several grey cloaks looked around angrily in protest. Many swore to themselves. The sand whipped knees, necks.. bizarre, but nothing particularly dangerous.

A few grey cloaks started towards Sura, who was sitting innocently on the couches. Chatter continued as normal.

"Ah, that was odd. Anyway, the Conclave would be glad to offer -" said the administrator to Crailek. Her last words.

Suddenly, a bubble of solidified sand surrounded Sura, obscuring what must be a deeply evil grin. The grey cloaks began to yell, draw weapons -

There was a great groan, and the Hall of the Sun - made of the strongest glass - crashed to the stone floor, shattering into a thousand shards and piercing all within. Crailek felt himself be pinned down by a shard that hit his left leg as another series of glass spikes hit his gut and shoulders. He saw the administrator fall, glass through her head.

Even wounded, need allowed him to react incredibly quickly. A psychokinetic bubble formed about him, deflecting most other pieces of falling glass.. he would keep it formed until the storm had finished. He was bleeding, in agony, but he would survive..

Foun saw the beings in front of him be devastated by the glass, but he was relatively lucky - a flesh wound to the knee, crippling him for a moment but nothing fatal. There were screams of anger, agony, despair.. many were deafened by the destruction of the Hall, and many more were blinded by the hundreds of dazzling shards flashing down in a deathly strike.

Frank saw the shard fall, as if in slow motion, yet could do nothing as it turned his head to mush, instantly killing him and splattering his brains all over the floor.

The golden enchantments of protection still glimmered hopefully. They'd protect the Hall from any invaders from inside.. but attackers from within were never considered. The Conclave was too mighty for such an attempt!

The glass shards had turned to sand or been harmlessly deflected whenever they hit the barrier about Sura.

Suddenly, the nightmare got worse. Sand rushed back towards the Hall of the Sun, ripping through the flesh at immense speeds. Everyone within the Hall of the Sun was killed. Crailek felt the sand hit the energy bubble, but it didn't pierce his protection. Foun was torn to pieces, his death no less painful. The howl was extremely loud, a monsoon of sand and death..

When the howl died, a siren rose from within the Inner Hall of the Sun - within the stone bunker that was, luckily enough, protected from the vicious storm. Most of the core members of the Conclave would be safe. Sentient metal grills descended upon the two doorways to below, attempting to protect the vital individuals within from any further violence.

Crailek was alive. Sura was alive. Exhausted, Crailek let the bubble drop and collapsed unto the bloody floor.

Gunshots rung out. Soldiers gathered. Everything that was within the Outer Hall, save the General of Osiris-Ra, was dead. The barracks were emptied. A diamond bullet struck through Sura's defences, striking him in the leg. The pain was immense, but nothing compared to the agony he had caused on this day.

He would pay for such a heinous crime.

Msonus

The lights within the room flickered on and off. Bludt gripped his head in his hands and fell to the floor, screaming. There was a massive crash from above, a deafening roar.. followed by an even louder howl of devastation. The Systemarch continued to scream.

A siren went off from within the Conclave halls.

"Stay here," said the administrator who had taken Msonus to the psyche test. "Lock the door when I leave. Open it only when the sirens stop. I need to go."

With that, the administrator slipped out into the havoc..
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:56, Wed 21 Oct 2009.

A stream of eyes follow the administrator a few moments later, spreading out and moving down hallways trying to see what happened. Msonus himself calmly goes to the door and, as the administrator instructed, locks it.

He walks over to Bludt and kneels down. Though he knows little of the situation, Msonus watches the screaming systemarch with a slightly pitying confusion.

Now, no longer needing secrecy, Sura creates more sand. He then uses it to create deadly sand storm. Within the sand storm were several sand spikes - along with the shards of glass, randomly flying about at high speeds. Finally, under the cover of the storm, Sura made his escape by moving his sand bubble with him still in it.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:01, Wed 21 Oct 2009.

Ruse writhed in agony for a moment on the floor as his mind was flooded with the psychic screams of the dying. Gods died. Mortals died. And sand...horrifying visions of sand spreading around eathing things like a cancer. It took a short moment for his mental defenses to kick in and push the "static" out, but Ruse wasn't too thrilled right now. Something horrible had happened up in the outer halls. Something deadly...it was a miniature genocide.

Ruse shifted into mist form, in case some falling piece of debris landed on him or something. He would be sure to paradox SUIT's activation of the shielding system from his godrealm self when it was up. Aesin and now this had taught him that leaving it on would be best.

Ruse's misty form drifted around Roid, circling him like a cat. More mist had begun to form around them, which then rose upward a bit in a dome-like shape and hardened using the power of the mist god. Ruse had effectively created a protective mist-bubble around Roid that would deflec tmost debris from it. He also attuned his mist to Roid as well, who found that he could see through it with ease.

"Roid..." An odd loud whispering sound said as it emanated from the mist. It sounded vaguely like Ruse...and in fact it was.

"Something horrible has happened in the outer halls. I think we've been attacked! Many gods and mortals have died. Are you okay? This mist bubble should protect you from any falling rubble, although this inner area is impressively fortified it seems."

Crailek bleeds on the floor. Also, he wonders at the chances of managing to cripple his leg twice in a row actually were, as he had just met that level. About the second thought he had was quite similar to the next few, which were more of 'concentrating on not bleeding out and dieing' then real thoughts.
For the moment he bleeds, and doesn't move or think too hard.

Ruse

"Damn it," said Roid. "Damn it damn it damn it.." He banged his hand, hard, against his desk. DAMN IT.

The psychic roar gave Ruse another shock - even with his own potency in the area of psionics, the power of a fully-toothed Systemarch was considerable indeed. He noticed the iron-reinforced roof, the door with three locks, all of them undoubtedly magical..

The siren continued to wail.

Roid wandered over to the door, slowly, and opened it. He looked outside - peered into the darkness - and closed it again, locking all three locks.

"How much fighting experience have you had?" he asked Ruse, dead serious.

Crailek

Sand lashed his cheeks.

Crailek woke to a horrible feeling: being slapped hard in the face when your cheeks were already rubbed raw was painful. Then, of course, everything else hit, and he keeled over and began to throw up.

"You," said a Conclave soldier wearing an elaborate iron mask and wielding a diamond rifle. He gave Crailek a light kick. "Get up. You're the only survivor. We wonder just why that is."

Sura

Sura, unfortunately, had exhausted himself with the sandstorm of death. All that he could manage to conjure was a sandstorm that obscured himself from his immediate enemies - the spikes and whatnot were too difficult. He felt another few bursts of pain as he was shot twice in the chest. He staggered. There was yelling in the distance. The sand couldn't protect him from much longer.

He made his escape, but it was a dangerous thing. He was shot several more times, and Sura knew that the Conclave had gotten his identity. He would live the rest of his life as a 'Mad God', without, amusingly enough, being Mad..

Msonus

The siren continued.

The eyes were blind. There wasn't enough light for them to function properly.. nevertheless, they detected a huge amount of confusion and panic within the halls.

Soon, the Systemarch picked himself back up. Bludt frowned.

"What - what happened? What.. did you do?" he asked groggily.

Ruse's form pulsed a bit, and he replied,

"I am not a direct warrior like Aesin or those types. However, I learned much from his vigilante-ism. Yes, much indeed. I tend to hold back a lot of my full potential, although in these dark times I am willing to utilize exxessive force to both defend myself, as well as defeat the enemies of the conclave and the tree."

Ruse swirled around a bit, deflecting a small piece of debris away from Roid as he did so.

"My specialty is stealth - I could probably assassinate someone easily, as well as survey a scene and gather intel. I have direct experience with sneaking into a heavily fortified location and sneaking out again undetected. I am now able to stand up to warrior-types as well, by using vision-control tactics. And of course I have not even dented the full extent of my "trick."

The mist pulsed with some whimsy now, and Ruse asked,

"Is there someone or something you'd like me to fight or sabotage, councilor?"

"I have done little," Msonus says, calmly, watching Bludt . "As you were starting the test, a siren occurred, and our dear administrator gave the order to lock the door behind him. I have done so. It is not clear what has happened outside, though the lack of light indicates something particularly nasty has gone on. It seems a nightmare of life, where the unexpected comes to shatter dreams... And yet the dark obscures that which we care to know.

Ah, but manners once again elude me.  Bludt, are you injured?"

Crailek clutches at his stomach painfully, and forces himself up onto his feet. "I don't know, you tell me. Maybe I'm semi-immune to sand and glass flying at me?" He spoke rather well for someone with such wounds, but the pain showed in his face and in the way that he seemed about ready to fall down and die. He also spoke with more then a touch of irritation at being kicked and talked to in such a way, just for not dieing.

((Sorry, it would seem I'm an idiot. Nat, label your posts better!))
This message was last edited by the player at 00:21, Thu 22 Oct 2009.

((Frank... you died... did you not read the post that killed everyone?))

He returns quickly having died so suddenly was very unpleasant and not something he wished to have happen again, but there was something here. He came and looking about he tried to observe the situation for what it was. A good time to escape not ask questions and definitely not get involved.

...

Crailek! ... dumb foun, really really dumb
He rushes to crailek as quickly as he can ready to fight anyone who was idiotic enough to harm him.

Ruse

"No," said Roid. "Be quiet. Don't talk. Head hurts."

He walked confidently towards a hidden switch in the side of the stone wall. The wall seemed to shimmer and disappear, becoming a glass case with the word ATTAINMENTS scrawled above them. Within, Ruse saw the strange clicking-gun Balverstus had wielded when they first met, and a small, fairly mundane-looking ring, and a long pulsating sword..

"I wanted to know if I could trust you with Savernasuram -"

He stopped for a moment.

"Oh god," he said, falling back a little. "Balverstus.. Balverstus is dead.."

Crailek & Foun

The soldier gave him another small, lighter kick to the side.

"Hrmmm," said the soldier. "Nothing could have survived that sand blast. Are you wearing a powerful magical enchantment or something similar? If you don't give us a satisfactory answer, we'll have to take you.."

Suddenly, the tall white-haired sorcerer - Foun! - rushed up to the soldier. He took dying rather well, all things considering.

"Who are you?" demanded the soldier. Foun could see more soldiers walking towards them, guns in hand.

Msonus

"No, no.. I don't think so.." he stopped for a moment, tears appearing in his eyes. "Balverstus! Balverstus, how? How could you have..?"

He slumped down again, as if crushed.

The ring immediately caught Ruse's attention before the gun or sword did. Rings were symbols of lords and sorcers - both of which Ruse was. The gun was of secondary interest, given his growing exposure to various technologies, and the fact that he recognized it from his systemarch encounters. The sword didn't interest him much, given he had a vibro-blade and a living sword. These observations weren't really terribly important, merely first impressions.

What really made Ruse curious though was where Roid was going with all of this.

"Councilor, you can trust me with anything at this point. I am willing to use whatever means necessary to avenge the fallen."

Ruse knew that he had to say something...anything to comfort him about Balverstus. But in Mistellan fashion, it had to have both style and flair. And be meaningful while also making impact.

"Lord Roid, do not greive so much about Balverstus. Of course, I was actually quite fond of him too and am upset by his death. However I already have a plan for him, although it is fairly long-term. But you see, I am a growing sorcerer of sorts, and life magic is something that I am capable of using. Right now I am but a conjurer and my talent with it is not great, but one day I will be a Thaumaturge, and with some sanctified white gloves as a tool I...I can revive Balverstus to healthiness once more. Not a necromantic mockety but true life!"

I am Grey Purjopiarre Foun the Second of the Isles of Penta, Returned God and Slight Dabbler of Magiscience and Truth, Heir to the Metaphysical Tower, Traveler Beyond the Tree, Teleportationist Extraordinaire you like hearing all that correct? Well I am here to protect the one who was my beloved and may still be. To speak on his behalf and swear to you that he has done nothing wrong. We both I believe where here to aide the conclave when we were. Although not as skilled as he is I died in that attack. My quickness to return was for his sake and a skill I achieved from feeling death several times. He puts one hand protectively over crailek eyes burning.

Msonus sits down with Bludt, but he doesn't know who Balverstus is, and says little. As he sits, he idly directs his eyes to fumble their way through the halls further, looking for any location with light or other things that they could sense.

He watches Bludt with his three real eyes, curiously but with care. The systermarch was still a stranger, a foreign being, and yet there was no doubt that he was in anguish.

"I am sorry...," he says quietly. " What happ--"

He stops suddenly, taking time to think in the middle of his words. "... who was Balverstus?"

Crailek closes his eyes, listening to Foun. He detected within that small speech some things the guards would probably not take too lightly. He stays silent, and concentrates on lessening the pain he felt by simply ignoring the wounds. He also concentrates on making sure he had enough energy left in him for what may well become a fight. He would end the fight rather quickly, if he only had enough energy to attack, let alone enough to stand up.
Getting crushed half to death, sliced half to death, with a bad headache on top of that was not very good for his own welfare. In fact, he was fairly amazed he wasn't dead, what with the two halves of death flying at him.

Ruse

Balverstus looked towards Ruse, shock evident on his face. He hadn't expected the outburst.

"It.. Systemarch bodies are notoriously difficult to resurrect," he said, softly, "Because upon death.. the Attainments fade and become useless. If I die," he said, gesturing to the items, "The Ring of Cashmathar, Savernasuram, Liktoborea.. they would be destroyed. Utterly useless. There's something more than weird science in these things.. and the death of one of them is enough to send a Systemarch into a decade of depression. Suicide is not uncommon. If he returns.. he'd be changed."

Tears formed in his eyes. A single drop streaked down his face.

"But thank you for the attempt. A Systemarch funeral is in order.. I will organize it. But first, I think I must travel to Litheris. Then, I think, to Desolace.. and perhaps Tushmuthut. I have divined that above is safe.."

He drifted off. Roid was not his usual composed self. He was a shattered thing.. something that scared Ruse. The siren stopped it's wail.

Crailek & Foun

Crailek didn't have the physical energy to stand up, let alone throw a bolt of deadly psychokinetic energy. Soon, he might be able to rise, with the assistance of Foun.. but he hurt so much, all he wanted to do was to stay still and bask in his own misery.

The guard looked at Foun.

"Heir to the Metaphysical Tower? What in Odin's name are you talking about?"

He looked Foun in the eyes, saw the raw determination there, and shrugged.

"Look, this is a sealed area. You've got to take him somewhere else. Get him fixed up. Whatever. Just leave, now, before I take you both in."

Msonus

"Balverstus was a kind friend and the finest warrior," said Bludt. "I.."

The lights switched back on - electrical. A generator was up. The siren stopped.

Bludt picked himself up.

"I'm sorry friend, but we will have to put off your psyche evaluation. I can come and visit your Realm personally if you'd prefer but.. but we're in no state to do it right now. My apologies."

Msonus heads to unlock the door, but looks back.

"It is understandable, Bludt. Dreams become nightmares, and plans change. But now it seems that I should be concerned for you, and not the other way. My own needs were on a whim, and yours, yours were forced upon you. Tell me, please... How can your pains be soothed? "

He pauses, and shakes his head. "No, I should not force more unto you, even aid. If you need a comfort, a service or a dream, it shall be easy enough to find me. But here," he says, ripping off a piece of cloth. He holds it in his hands for a moment, and his eyes flash almost unnoticeably. "Break it if you need me to see you.'

 He hands the cloth to Bludt, and walks out into the hallway. Using the eyes that he had already sent out earlier, which should now be able to see with the lights on, he navigates his own way back out of the Hall.

Ruse sighs a bit. The attainments disappearing would prove to be slightly problematic...for the unprepared magi of course. Ruse, though, had other plans.

"Councilor, I may still be able to save Balverstus. I am thinking of combining a ritual of life and time magics - I may be able to find a tome or something on the topic in the market or something, or even requisition one in the name of the conclave. The time magic could mitigate the dissapearance of the attainments, and with that accomplished the life magic could work on reviving Balverstus himself. It's certainly a long shot but worth the effort. At the very least, it can't hurt for me to look into it. I will notify you of my progress on this, my lord councilor."

Ruse then decided to shift back onto the topic at hand - what Ruse could do for Roid, and Roid do for Ruse. anything with helping Balverstus or even thwarting Osiris would be almost impossible right now if Roid and Ruse didn't complete their alliance. Most importantly, a promotion from Ruse accepting Roid's offer, as well as him being the steward of one of the attainments. With these tools, Ruse would best be able to help not only himself, but Roid and the tree too.

"My Lord Councilor, before you leave...please allow me to refocus us back to what we were discussing earlier. Despite all that had happened, I am now only more firm and committed to accepting your offer of being your personal inquisitor. I will also - with great honor by the way - accept the stewardship of one of your attainments as well. I personally would probably be most effective with the ring or gun, as I already have two swords...plus sword fighting defies my preferred combat style of ranged sneaky fighting."

Crailek stays on the back, then. He looks over at the Guard oddly, and smiles. "Thanks. And don't worry about the Metaphysical tower. It has nothing to do with you."
In his head, however, Crailek thinks about how much the odd lag effect with how paradox was now really sucked. Also something about horribly evil squirrels, but that was a common theme in his thought process, for some reason, and had nothing to do with the current events and problems.

He puts his hand on crailek and smiles, Where to? My realm or yours? Or anywhere else you feel may be safe to discuss things of the past. After all we have a great deal to discuss.

Crailek nods. "I shall head to your realm. I believe I can appear there, healed."
With a smile, he sinks into he shadows and dismisses this self.

He nods standing up he surveys the area one more time and in his thoughts he has a strong rage boiling towards Sura. Then he dissappears as he leaves this realm as well.

Ruse

"Time .. and life?" said Roid. His eyes showed his confusion, but caught on quickly. He was simply dazed. "Clever.. very clever. Please make sure to consult his Dhaal before you attempt anything of the sort, though.. some sacred relationships shouldn't be crossed. He might wish to rest easy. Just.."

He stopped.

"Just consult them. Please."

Again, he glanced towards his three Attainments. The Ring of Cashmathar, glinting in the soft light.. thirty years. Savernasuram, the Scalpel of Redemption.. fifty years. Finally, there was Liktoborea, the Clicking Death, Voice of the Last, Son of Purandomnol.. eighty years. A hundred and sixty years worth of work sitting softly in the darkness.

"I would have you," said Roid, looking at Ruse a little wearily, "Take the Ring of Cashmathar. Liktoborea is my own personal weapon. That is, if you comply.. and swear on the Ring of Cashmathar to my cause - to the resurrection of Yggdrasil and the destruction of Osiris-Ra. I understand your personal abilities to evade such oaths, but believe me.. the ring is a little harder to escape. Forgive the distrust, but it would kill you on the spot if you tried wearing it otherwise."

Msonus

"I.. thank you, Msonus."

Bludt smiled thinly, but it was sincere.

The Halls were dark, but linear enough. Soldiers and other members of the Conclave dashed past him as he wandered through.

When he emerged, the sun blinded him for a moment - and then he saw the devastation that had wracked the Hall of the Sun. Glass had been smashed everywhere, in the process of being cleaned by various soldiers. Sand scattered everywhere. Corpses littered the shattered marble floor, and were being removed solemnly by the soldiers. A few grey cloaks wept as they identified the bodies.

A soldier approached Msonus.

"Sorry, mate," said the soldier, "you'll have to leave immediately or return below. Restricted area."

His diamond rifle shined in the sun.

Ruse nodded at Roid, and replied,

"Fair enough - on both accounts. I will consult Balverstus' Dhaal before any revival attempts. I just wanted to perk you up a bit by letting you know there is still at least a possible way to fix this. As for the ring..."

Ruse drifted over to the ring and materialized. He picked it up from the case and held it in his hand. he said boldly,

"I am Ruse, Zealous god of Mist and Lord of the Valley of mist, as well as an associate of the Conclave. I here do by swear upon Cashmathar that I seek both the wellbeing of the tree of life, as well as the downfall of Osiris-Ra and any other entity that would harm and torture the tree through their actions. I take you in my hand as a steward in place of Roid, Spider of Hammers, in good faith."

Ruse gave his oath to the ring, and was truthful about it.

Msonus is rendered speechless by the devastation, but even the absent-minded god was shaken to his senses by the barrel of a gun.

"Of course," Msonus says, leaving the area surrounding the hall. He walks quickly, moving away from the scene while looking down; suppressing his instincts, he does not manifest more eyes, but instead heads towards the market area.

     Having seen destruction being involved and possible conflict, Desafon bursts into the Hall of the Sun, looking about, "Where's the fight? I'm here to assist in the protection of innocents!" He calls out, searching for any culprits that might be in need of a duel. "And what has happened?" He ponders for a moment.

Ruse

"Then let the Ring of Cashmathar serve you well," said Roid. "Now.. I need to reach Litheris. There is much work ahead of us. What are your plans?"

He looked towards Ruse suddenly. "Actually, no, scrap that. Your plans are irrelevant. Would you like me to promote you to Low Lord? You'll have to gather intelligence .. our Estranged friends are tied up with Tushmuthut, and I need to know.. need to know where Sura is. Yes."

Desafon

"I'm sorry, sir," said one of the plated soldiers, approaching Desafon. "I'm afraid this area is a restricted zone. You'll have to leave."

Ruse nodded at Roid, and put Cashmathar onto one of his fingers. He had - once again - survived taking what could have been a lethal oath for some others. He couldn't blame Roid though for being this careful - he was a councilman looking for allies he could trust, in a world full of uncertainty and surrounded by snakes in the grass.

"Councilman, I will gladly accept the promotion to low lord, and I also thank you for Stewardship over Cashmathar. Let it serve as a symbol of our friendship, yes? I can track down Sura for you if you'd like - I can start with his godrealm and extend my search pathways from there. I can gather supplementary information on other manifestations as well."

Ruse looked at Cashmathar curiously, and attemped to ascertain its properties both with his own powers and sesnes, as well as with SUIT's scan.

"Oh and Councilor, what would you like me to do if I can track down Sura's location? Should I engage, or fall back and notify you personally over a channel or perhaps even via the "trick? What is your preference?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:27, Tue 27 Oct 2009.

      Finding his excitement now decreasing and all thoughts of joining in a glorious battle have now been deflated, Desafon frowns, "Oh, well, that is highly annoying. Ah, very well, I guess I'll take my leave then. If another conflict arises, please do call upon me. I am very much interested in joining in in any fights, albeit not brawls. Highly... crude forms of combat." He then begins to step back out towards the Valley.

Ruse

"I suggest you find out whether or not Sura is still within, and fall back immediately. I need to know whether he's there or - untouchable - in Tushmuthut."

He looked towards Ruse.

"You're now promoted to Low Lord, Lesser Secretary of the Councilman Roid. You are removed from your duties in regards to, uh.." he thought for a moment, "Chalybis, unless it is in your own time. You'll have a salary of two grand monthly. Usual. Your immediate duties are to deal with the Osiris-Ra threat and to assist me. Now, the Ring of Cashmathar.. if you lose it or if it is destroyed I will very likely be killed. So do not let that happen. Do not let me down."

He placed a hand in his mouth, broke off a tooth, and gave it to Ruse.

"Break that - crush it with your hands - and the knowledge of the Ring will be granted to you. Do it now."

Desafon

Desafon should continue posting in the obvious place : )

Ruse nodded politely, and replied,

"Very well, as you wish. I will ascertain the location of Sura and fall back. Even if he has a self in the dread city, he should still have a self in his godrealm or another realm on a similar paradox frequency. That's um...the best way I can explain it to a non-god."

Ruse wasn't sure how much Roid knew about paradox, although assumed he knew at least enough as a councilor, but at the same time didn't want to over-assume too much, especially since paradox was a way of life for gods but a deviation from logical physics normally.

Ruse takes the tooth from Roid and crushes it in his hand - the same hand he is wearing Cashmathar on. Ruse would protect the attainment with all his might. He was ready to know what exactly the ring did, and how he could use it to further his agendas.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:23, Tue 27 Oct 2009.

As the tooth is crushed, Ruse has a peculiar experience. He suddenly remembers exactly what the Ring of Cashmathar is, and what it can do, as if he'd known all along..

Ruse considered a bit. The ring was extremely potent, but yet its capabilities were extremely specialized. He wasn't for sure if Cashmathar was extremely useless, or extremely useful. There really was no middle ground on this. But he was brewing up some ideas on how to make the most of the situation, and the new tool he was given. At the very least, it was proof that Roid could trust Ruse, and gaining the trust of a councilor was golden right now.

"Well Roid, I must say that this ring in...extremely interesting. It also has the weirdest abilities too. It may even be more of a burden to me than not...well, it would be if I wasn't a god - but with paradox I can cherry-pick the best of both worlds. I can't even begin to imagine what propmpted or inspired you to make the first property though, although I'm sure it will have its uses in the right situation."

He then looked at the dazed Clavius, and then back to Roid, and said,

"Oh, and what are you going to do about him? Should I take him back to the Barrax? He's a bit emotional but otherwise is a decent man I think."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:41, Wed 28 Oct 2009.

Clavius smiled absently. "No, uh, well. I'll excuse myself. Things to do.." He wandered off, his psyche worse for wear. Subtle telepathy left not-so-subtle scars, sometimes.

"Weird abilities indeed," said Roid, "But I created the Ring to thwart Osiris-Ra. It is thus an extremely potent weapon against his drier abilities. Speaking of abilities -  those are just the powers I can remember associating with the Ring. There will be more, I am sure of it, that may or may not be revealed to you. I cannot remember what, exactly."

He blinked, picked up the sword and the gun.

"If that is all, I must be off."

Ruse nodded, and stroked Cashmathar a bit.

"Hmmm...well I can try communing with the ring when I get a chance. We certainly should establish a good raport, yes."

Ruse waved at Clavius as he departed. Poor guy...humans were versatile indeed, but their minds were as susceptible as any. Ruse would make sure to subtly perform a minor psychic surgery of sorts though, to remove some of those scars if they became an impediment. Otherwise, the major was better off just not knowing what Roid and ruse discussed.

"Oh and councilor, could you please provide me the information on the geographical data for Desolace? I used my new low lord channel to do some fact-finding, but that particular information was blocked by Lictros."

Roid's eyes narrowed, all at once. The effect was frightening.

"We don't have any data on Desolace. Not the new incarnation, anyway. But I don't understand why Lictros would.."

The eyes suddenly widened.

"PROJECT TOMB OF THUNDER - I - Ruse, that was where.. where the League of Divine Right - it makes sense, now. Yes. Sorry." He looked a little pale. "It's nothing huge but.. I believe that is where the past League instated PROJECT TOMB OF THUNDER, which as code names go, is a little pathetic, but.."

Roid stopped, swallowed.

"I think - forgive me if I'm raving or babbling - I think that's where they buried him. 'No glass to be made in Desolace..' - because Sura didn't kill him. At least, not the original. Not - because, well, twenty-five thousand years or something - but - Ruse, I think that might be where they buried Thor."

Hirsu appeared in the Valley, and looked around. He had heard... something. Or perhaps he hadn't really heard it, so much as thought he had. Still, the information was there. There was an offer here for him. He was merely to seek it out.

He walked towards whichever building most resembled the sun.

Ruse pondered what was being said. He didn't know much about Thor other than that he was from the time of Odin, and was once a powerful god. He wondered why the tomb was in what became sura's godrealm, as well as if such a thing could be useful to him and the Conclave.

"Ah I see. How Intriguing. Do you think that there is anything in the tomb that would be useful in our fight against Osiris-Ra, as well as other forces that seek to harm Yggdrasil?"

Ruse considered the project name, and added,

"Is the conclave currently undergoing an operation involving this tomb? Should I stay away from the tomb while I scout Desolace for sura?"

Ruse

"I think so," replied Roid. "There is.. well, there was a problem, my files show, with the death of Thor. He was maddened. Could not die. Something had reinforced his soul. He was locked within a tense theoelectromagnetic field and left to rot - in Sura's Realm, because the idea, I think, is that we could let him loose if Sura ever became too much - but.."

He drifted off.

Hirsu

The Hall was a wreck. Broken glass lay everywhere. The bodies had been removed, but the blood and the sand and the filth of murder remained. The stench was horrible - rotting flesh in the hot sun. Soldiers in grey, with diamond firearms, dominated the scene.

"I'm sorry," said one to Hirsu, "But you will have to move along. Restricted area."

Hirsu stared at the remains of the... whatever that had occured here. "I see. Thank you for informing me."

He walked away, and began seeking a place with more people and activity, his natural inclinations taking precedence after witnessing that scene.

((OOC: Moving to the market.))

"I think Sura is probably far less of a problem than Thor would be. If he is truly insane from Theogenic rot, then he is a wild card at best. I think that it would be best to leave Thor to sleep and only use him as a last resort, because after he dealt with Sura, we would then have to deal with Thor."

Ruse also sighed, and added,

"Oh and by the way I can see why you dislike Lictros so much. He's beginning to get irritating, but roses at his feet none the less. I may have to communicate with you directly it seems to access the most sensitive information. Otherwise I fear that my secretarial duties will be most difficult to carry out. As for Sura, I will head for Desolace very soon. I'm just checking up on my realm for a moment before heading out. Food is tight there it seems."

"Yes," sighed Roid. "My thoughts exactly. It has been too long - most of documents ruined - we know nothing, really, of this particular PROJECT, nor of it's affects."

He looked at Ruse.

"You've spoken to Lictros the dog..? Yes, I feared as much. He is the censor. You can communicate with me telepathically, securely, for as long as you have the Ring."

He started to head off.

"I must leave for Litheris. You might see yourself out.. ?"

Ruse grinned, and replied,

"Well Lictros is certainly good at his job. Annoyingly so - I see why you are ever so fond of him. But I will work around that obstacle none the less. If you need to get ahold of me Roid, I'm always just a low lord channel or a positive thought away!"

With that, Ruse began to head out, this time shifting back into mist form just to be safe from any debris.

"Good luck councilor."

And what that, Ruse drifted out from the inner halls and back out. He was heading ultimately for the marketplace.

Roid nodded, allowed Ruse to leave, and soon the God of Mist was upon the Markets. Roid, however, had business in Litheris..

Hirsu approached the Hall of the Sun once more, walking towards the guards at a leisurely pace. He stopped in front of one. "Hello, I'm Neocadem Hirsu the First of Elan, Zealous God and Slight Conjurer of Life. I'm sorry to bother you, but there was some notice asking me to come here to learn about joining the Conclave as an associate. Could you let me know how I should proceed with following the request?"

"Ah," said the soldier, "A recruit. Look, friend, this place is in no shape to be administrating recruits.. you're best to petition either your Low Lord or the Free Channel."

Hirsu nodded politely to the man. "Thank you. You'll have to forgive me for asking another question, but I haven't been around very long. How would I go about contacting my Low Lord, or using the Free Channel?"

"Hmmm," said the soldier. "The Free Channel can be accessed through Callisti, the mind, and through certain points.. your Low Lord depends on your exact meta-district. You say you're recently born. I'd suggest, then, either Low Lord Raelis, Lowo Lord Ruse or Low Lord Aesin - though the last one can be a bit nasty."

Hirsu nodded his head in thanks. "Thank you for your help. Could you direct me to this Callisti you mention?"

"Absolutely," the soldier said. "A public use Callisti can be found just around the corner," he continued, giving instructions to find that Callisti.

(OOC: You may just post in the FREE CHANNEL CONCLAVE thread, as a casual RP Public, for your requests, no need to go through the formalities..)

Hirsu nodded in thanks. "My thanks for your efforts."

He walked away from the area, wandering through the Valley to see the sights.

The soldiers watched him leave with feigned interest.

     Deciding to deliver the prisoner directly, Desafon seeks to wait on portalling the cultist until he gets in. He looks towards any representative, "I have come to deliver a Cultist of Osiris-Ra as prisoner to the Conclave. As well, I have some religious amulets of theirs to turn in for reward. I have done battle with a ranking cultist and found it very... interesting. What say you?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave this place," said the armoured soldier. "Restricted area. If it's a bounty you have, see the Bounty Office, near the Markets. Good work, warrior."

     Grumbling, having just left the Bounty Officer, he decides to take the prisoner he now hold in his arms to the Bounty Officer.

Desafon moves to the Markets of Nicodemus, prisoner in tow.

The God of Food walks through the doors of the Hall, and looks to find an official that he can talk to.

Pitcarn walked past the heavily-armed guards, each wielding a modern diamond assault rifle, and was scanned and checked by the Silver Shamblers - each easily twelve foot. The great, silver, robot-things just stood and watched as Pitcarn wandered through.

He saw a series of lounges in one corner of the room; a set of desks and official administrators in another; a large, black pillar, hanging like a stalcatite from the ceiling; officials, garbed in grey, all about the place, speaking to others in a huge variety of colours; and finally, he noticed the thinking-machines - the computers - all about the place, ten to a wall, almost half of them being used.

"Can I help you, sir?" said an administrator. Pitcarn noted that a heavy sword hung at her belt, and that her hand was classed around a revolver.

"You may be able to. I'm not sure just yet though. If you'll excuse me."

Pitcarn turns to leave the Administrator and sit down.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:01, Fri 22 Jan 2010.

As Pitcarn took his seat on the comfortable leather couches, he saw a storm of commotion appear at the entrance to the Hall. Several armed guardsmen surrounded a tall, half-naked man dressed in grey furs, silver blade at his side. The man stalked into the Hall, a savage scowl caught on his face, the soldiers protecting him. It was obviously a man of great import; a High Lord, perhaps, or even a Councilman.

As the 'man of great import' walked across the hall, Pitcarn stood from his couch, confusion on his face still, and stepped forward, possibly a little too much.  Picarn then bowed deeply to the passing, much higher ranked figure.

The figure grunted as he passed. The soldier gave Pitcarn a heavy kick, sending him sprawling, and continued on.

Maxillita walked alongside Wyrn, silently thinking. If I die, I'm just a criminal.. if I succeed, I help the conclave immeasurably and make him look good. Crafty fellow!"

((Nat, Ruse is coming breifly from the funeral, unless you rule otherwise for some reason, for high lord reasons. After he sends a manifestation out he will send this one back to the funeral.))

Ruse arrives here (totally separate from Max and wyrn and if he sees them does NOT interact with either), and heads inside to the inner levels. In particular, to the chapel of Methodes. He is looking for Fiefmaster Jonaht.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:54, Mon 25 Jan 2010.

Pitcarn mutters something angrily under his breath as he picks himself up. The only real audible words are "Paying respects", "Waste of time", "Ruse" and "Now this".

Pitcarn

Pitcarn sees the tall, muscular authority turn around and face him.

"What did you say, worm?" he snarled. The soldiers raised their automatic weapons. They'd shoot if needed.

Max

The craftiest.

As Max enters the Hall of the Sun, followed by Wyrn. He spots Lictros - his intuition tells him that is the Councilman - lording over another, familiar God.. the Fat Friar!

Best not to have him see us.. Max felt the voice again. Wyrn snapped his fingers, and a small squadron of soldiers surrounded them.

"I have a convicted traitor here, needed for questioning," said Wyrn. "Guard him with me. Come, Max, you filth-fucked jackal."

They walked towards the entrance to the lower levels of the Hall. As they walk, Max spots Ruse walking in the same direction.

Ruse

As Ruse walks, he sees a crowd of soldiers surrounding Max and Wyrn. Would he care to do something.. ?

Ruse glances at Pitcarn, and sees Lictros there. He continues walking by - Pitcarn got himself into trouble from his attitude, so this may be the wake up call he needed. Hopefully Lictros would make Pitcarn appreciate Ruse.

As for Max, would Ruse do anything? The answer...is nope, nothing at all. Ruse is not interfering with that right now.

Instead, Ruse looks ahead toward his goal, and continues about his way to the chapel of Methodes. Max, Pitcarn, Lictros, and Wyrn are on their own right now.

Through a tiny gap in the Soldier's veiling, Kaie waved at Pitcarn (for both Max and himself) then ducked back behind the cordon of soldiers. Max whispered to Wyrn. "Where are we going? Is there a secret underground base or something?"

Halfway through getting up, Picarn notices the weapons levelled at his head. he quickly shifts his rising motion into a deep bow of subservience.

"My deepest apologies, great lord. My comments were meant for myself only, and referred to my ongoing conversation with the mist god Ruse, and the deep level stress it's causing me. I spoke too hastily of my own misfortune for standing in your soldier's way, and again, I offer you my most deep and sincere regret for having impugned upon you progress."

sweat trickled down Pitcarn's forhead as he stared very intently at the floor. His back was sore from where he had fallen, and he remained on one knee, not daring to look up into the councilman's face.

Pitcarn

"Ruse?" grunted the Councilman. "Secretary Ruse? Hrmmph. You're friends with the God of Liars? Answer swiftly, boy, or I will have you destroyed."

The Councilman was curious, but rough; Pitcarn did not doubt his ability to order Pitcarn's death.

Max

Quiet, Max. You're my prisoner. No speaking.

Max was taken through the foreboding doors at the end of the Hall, down a long flight of stairs, and through many, many treacherous corridors and darkened room. Eventually, they reached what Max surmised was the center of the lower depths: a well-lit room, guarded by nine masked and ceremonially-dressed soldiers, sleek Earthborn firearms at their sides and the grey cloaks of the Inner Circle on their backs. In the center of the room was a great silver seal, the size of a small tower in width, and upon was carved the most beautiful image of Yggdrasil Max had ever seen.

Standing on the seal, almost blasphemously, was a man wearing a dark grey mask and the silver coat of the Inner Circle. Around his neck hung a large silver pouch, and on his hands many different rings were found.

Bow.

Wyrn bowed at the masked figure.

"Lord of the Havanal," said the Councilman. "I place myself before you and before the World-Tree itself."

"Thrice-Carved Councilman," said the shadowy figure in response. "You pass, as always. The Emperor himself has seen your soul and judged it worthy. But as to the child - what is her purpose? She is neither carved nor chosen."

"She has been judged, Lord of the Havanal," said Wyrn. "Not by myself or by your own grace, but by the Tree - this is Maxine, Goddess of Fantasy and Adventure."

"Ah," said the Lord of the Havanal. "Then it is best you pass. Watch that one carefully, Wyrn. I hope to have her as an initiate in the future."

Ruse


Ruse enters the cavernous administration department beneath the Conclave, following the bronze-carved signs to the series of chambers named CHAPEL OF THE SACRED METHODES. There, at the relatively mundane door to the Chapel, two guards stood, swords at the ready.

"Business, m'Lord?" one asked.

Pitcarn raised his head slightly, so as to look at Lictros' feet.

"No Lord," Pitcarn sighed with resignation. "I'm not a friend of Secretary Ruse. He has been made my immediate supervisor recently, just after we had a disagreement over exactly how I could best serve the Conclave. He slighted me, and my offer of service to the Conclave.

"So no, Great Lord, I am no friend or personal ally of the God of Liars."

Pitcarn smiled internally at Lictros' attitude towards Ruse.

Maxilita looked around, trying to memorize the maze of corridors, but soon gave up on that as they descended.

Once they finally reach a well-lit room, you bowed immediately when told to. Not really to the man, but to the beautiful Yggdrasil. She blushed when her name was mentioned.

Ruse grinned as he walked silently and expediently. He knew that Pitcarn wasn't fond of him from his readings in his godrealm, and wouldn't put it past him to do whatever it took to ingratiate Lictros. Actually, he would be watching the results of his interaction with Lictros with great interest - from afar of course.

When he got to the Methodes chapel soldiers, he replied,

"I am High Lord Ruse, and am here to use the Methodese gateway. I request to speak with Fiefmaster Jonaht immediately, if possible."

Pitcarn

"Then why speak with him? Are you not God enough to stand up for yourself? To rise against oppression? To seize strength, to smash your enemy on the jaw?"

Lictros spat.

"You make me sick. I should have you killed. Or fined.. I think I prefer killed."

Max


"Thank you, Lord of the Havanal. Roses at your feet. Come, Max."

Wyrn spoke a single word - incomprehensible to Max - and the Lord of the Havanal nodded and removed himself from the seal. The great silver barricade then began to rise up, folding against itself like the Earthborn origami, as if it were noting more than cloth or paper - soon, all that was left was a long, stacked ring where the seal's perimeter once was.

"Don't have all day, Max. Come."

Wyrn led Max down the stairs hidden by the seal, into the inner depths of the Conclave and the bastion of the Inner Circle of Odin.

Ruse

"Sure, sure," said the soldier. "Come with me, then."

The soldiers led into the brightly-lit Chapel that lay just beyond the mundane door. Within the ambiance was soft and the room was filled with comfortable couches. A desk in the middle of the room showed an abandoned game of chest. The room was spacious; there were six exits. The first Ruse had come from; one to four, two at left and right, the final exit to the north labeled FIEFMASTER.

The soldier knocked.

"High Lord here to see you, sir."

"Let him enter," replied the voice, articulate and soft - a woman's.

Now Pitcarn stood up fully, and made complete eye contact with Lictros. His inner grin turned outwards, and he displayed teeth to the councilman, and there was once more mirth sparkling in the warrior God's eyes.

"Seize authority, Great Lord? Should I smash you in the jaw then, and usurp your power?"

Pitcarn's posture betrayed none of the tenseness he was feeling, the fear.

"I would not be so fool as to do that though," he said, now addressing the soldiers. He turned back to Lictros.

"I would be fighting with nothing to gain, not even honour. Ruse is a coward at best, he entrapped me in his presence when I sought to leave with a wall of solid mist, the oxymoron defies my powers of cognition. I do not doubt that he would have run and hid had I but looked as though I might respond to him in the manner I prefer.

"He would have killed me from afar without even looking at my face." Pitcarn's disdain became more than obvious here.

Bringing himself under control, he continued "The wisdom you speak ocurred to me late, Great Lord, but I was about to begin building my strength, when I ran into you."

"I do not wish to die here, buit if it is your will, you will enact it." Pitcarn grasped his staff in both hands, and held it defensively.
"But I will not fall without attempting to live."

Ruse entered the Feifmaster's chamber, taking note of any interesting details as he did so. This was his first time here, so while he had full access now, he wanted to learn as much as he could on his first run here.

"Greetings Fiefmaster Jonaht, I am High Lord Ruse. I have been given ownership of a feifdom in the Realm Savage, called the kingdom of Apath. Could you tell me about using the methodese gateway so I can send a manifestation through, as well as any information you may have on the Kingdom of Apath?"

Fran appears in the hall of the sun and stretches. "Well, let's see what's up here" She mutters to herself, looking around for an administrator-y person.

max stood, gave another brief bow, then headed down the stairs right behind Wyrn. She was fascinated. What was down here!?

Pitcarn

Lictros just stared at Pitcarn, perhaps amused by his monologue, and started to cackle madly. Suddenly - without warning - he turned and smashed his fist into Pitcarn's face, sending the God of Food sprawling. Pitcarn felt his heavy weight be picked up easily by two guards and pushed forwards, back towards Lictros.

Pitcarn knew his jaw was broken. Saliva and blood flowed almost freely from his mouth.

Lictros laughed again.

"I like you, little God. Tell me, why did such a nice man such as yourself get messed up in the politics of Ruse? He's too good for you. You shouldn't allow yourself to be cheated - not by him," he said. "After all, a High Lord is not a Councilman."

Lictros stretched, cracked his knuckles.

"That's just what I needed, actually; to punch somebody," he grinned. "Walk with me, little God. Do you drink tea?"

Max

Down the origami-seal was the inner cloister of the Inner Circle, a sight not many non-initiates were able to see; carved, it seemed, in stone like ivory, the corridors glowed with a white light. Wyrn led her through, taking her to a room named COUNCILMAN WYRN.

"My office," Wyrn said, nodding to the four heavily armed soldiers guarding the door. "Stand down, fellows."

Wyrn spoke another incomprehensible word of power and the door swung open, revealing another door. Wyrn placed his hand on the door, nodding slightly, and that door became nothing; behind it, another door, this one conventionally unlocked - with a small bronze key - and opened. Wyrn ushered Max through, said another word, and the first door closed, the second rematerialized, and the third was closed with a thud.

"Don't touch the Vanishing Door of M'harth, Max, or you'll vanish with it."

Inside was a large, spacious living room, filled with rugs, lounges, an Earthborn-style pool table, several computers and an Earthborn hologlyphic television. There were many doors leading off of the main room - it was like a private mansion.

Ruse

Fiefmaster Jonaht was stunningly beautiful. Ruse also saw that she was unabashedly naked. Her breasts were large - but not cripplingly so - and her hips were perfect rounded. Her arms and legs were tattooed, perhaps tribally, and Ruse saw that her teeth were sharpened, savage - the mark of a Shage. Her hair flamed red. On her desk rested a long, ceremonial blade, above several stacks of paperwork and heavy tomes. Otherwise, the room was sparse, but comfortable. Ruse figured that it was used mostly by Jonaht as a trading room.

It was all very exciting.

"Ah, yes, Ruse," she smiled, a little mischievously. "You unlucky bastard.. I don't suppose you know anything regarding our Kingdom of Apath, do you? Can you fight?"

Fran

There were several comfortable leather seats, computer terminals lining up against one wall, and a small line leading before administrator desks. As Fran entered, she was confirmed by one of the scarily great Silver Shamblers. She noted the presence of a black pyramid, probably magical, hanging from the ceiling.

Fran wanders over to the computer terminals and checks them out. "I don't like these things, they're not simple like people are."

Ruse scoped her with his eyes from top to bottom, taking in the details of her physique. However, if he felt anything or not was unknown, for neither his face nor his eyes belayed any emotion beyond the norm. By this point, he had seen far weirder things than busty sharge.

"This is my first experience with Apath, so regrettably I know nothing about it. I was just given this fief recently. I was told to come to you to learn more about it before I send my manifestation through. As for being able to fight, the answer is yes and no. Can I match the physical prowess of a sharge or something similar? Then no. Can I kill something with physical or magical prowess? Most certainly. My might is unorthodox, but highly effective none the less. And I would beat or kill any in my Feif who would dare put a hand on me. First I would start my rule with love, but if that doesn't work then I will do it through fear. Even a sharge or other realm savage inhabitant would think twice about crossing me after seeing one of its fellows get their head twisted off by a mist cloud. But I prefer peaceful solutions if possible, as long as they don't jeopardize my authority or agenda."

Ruse grinned, assessing her reaction. He then said,

"So, my fair lady of the chapel, what can you tell me about the Kingdom of Apath?"

"Woah, big place.." She said, taking heed of the deadly door as well. She walked over to a couch and sat down. "So, you said you'd arm me, SUIT me, train me, and whatever else, right? Well, I'll need several mythcrafting jewels and as high-quality a suit as possible, preferably one that is form-fitting and made for combat. I'll me making a DireSUIT, which should be very useful wherever I am, as well as looking awesome. Then, I'll need a submachine gun. Third, if I'm going to become strong enough to defeat Lictros and Osiris-Ra, I'll need to defeat several lesser evils first.. which shouldn't take long."

She said quietly, her tone only half-serious as if she didn't really believe she'd get anything.

Pitcarn lifted his weight from the supporting soldiers, and clutched his jaw, deperately trying to hold back the bloody drool. He would have spat it out, but he felt that spitting would be a to painful and pathetic affair.

Still holding his jaw, he responded to the Councilman's request, knowing that the comment about was Ruse was rhetorical. "Essth, Counthilmun, I hind it a calmer hhor a hwarrior. I do, howeber, preher hwine ahg hthe hbest of times." Pitcarn was about to chuckle at his own vice, but as soon as his jaw moved, the bone grated and he stopped, pain shooting along his face.

The Food God walked with Lictros, going with the more powerful god, to wherever the concilman was headed.

Pitcarn


"Wine? Huh. We can do wine. Walk with me. Soldiers, give him some room. A God should be able to carry himself."

Councilman Lictros led Pitcarn down through the back of the Hall of the Sun, into the dark, faintly lit halls. They wound and twisted like the greatest of mazes, finally entering into a long, candle-lit dining room. Soldiers sat at mess within the room, eating salads or steaks or soups, and Lictros gave them all a wide berth, sitting at a more particular table at the back of the room, labeled H. COUNCILMAN LICTROS & CO.

"Sit, sit," said Lictros. "At ease, soldiers. Get something to eat. Now, wine, was it, Pitcarn?"

Max

"Before we begin anything, Max, I want you to know that I read the report on the Fierce God. I'm afraid that if we are to continue we are going to have to promote you to Low Lord," said Wyrn, taking up two crystal glasses and a jug of red liquid. "Blood orange juice? The fruit is now extinct, unfortunately. Exotic. But yes - are you against promotion? We will need a Callisti Oath. Otherwise, I'm afraid I will have to kill you right here. Rules are rules."

Ruse

Fierfmaster Jonaht nodded slowly at Ruse's claims. She wasn't impressed, he knew, but would work with him regardless. The man, after all, was entitled.

"The Kingdom of Apath is an unstable, theocratic Shage princedom. It is run by it's namesake, Kaiyaash Apath XVII, though he does a poor job of it - while some areas of the kingdom are quite wealthy and livable, most are ravaged by crime, poverty, small wars and the like. Oh - and meteors. The reason for this instability is the unusually high impact frequency of Apath. Up to four dozen meteorites can strike the kingdom a day. This makes the place a hot-spot for miners and soldiers of fortune - Shage mostly, though Divine and Conclave members are often found their hunting for rare minerals. Living Metal is ridiculously common there - as common as lead. There are also large quantities of Kharm Oil, so watch out for that. Most of the rivers are soaked in the stuff - Shage can drink it, but most Divines would get very sick. Be careful. Ninety percent of the Kingdom is savage jungle, and only thirty percent of the entire place has been mapped successfully. Stranger minerals have been rumoured to exist - hunts for witchstone are not uncommon. The flora's adapted, as has the fauna. They're tough beasts.

"The people there are highly religious. While not many actively support the Kaiyaash, most agree that he is the direct incarnation of their sun deity, Apatheastus, and believe him to be infallible. He has already informed us that the situation is fully under control and that he strongly does not want Conclave interference, but, uh, recent developments have taken things out of his hands. Specifically: we have strong reason to believe that the Cult of Osiris-Ra has a minor House out there, and plans on taking the kingdom and utilizing the minerals for their jihad against the Conclave."

He smiled, breathed deeply.

"Anything else? Questions?"


Fran

The computers were sleek, carved of silver, and reacted to Fran.

Welcome to the HALL OF THE SUN. Telemetries and theoelectromagnetics declare you as AFFILIATE FRAN, GODDESS OF SURGERY. Is this report truthful?

(False information punishable by flaying)

Max nodded. "Actually, I was about to request to take the oath anyway, so that's not a problem. I figured the Conclave already has me on a chokechain, so I might as well be a good dog, you know? Maybe get some treats?"

She accepted the glass and sipped very, very carefully from it, closing her eyes to enjoy the first thing she had ever tasted.

"Yes, I am Fran, Goddess of Surgery." Fran says, a little unnerved that she was talking to something that could hardly be considered alive.

Ruse's mouth cracked a grin, and he replied,

"Ohhh..." Ruse chimed in interest. "The cult of Osiris is trying to set up shop there? I can see why you'd not want them to access those precious resources. Since the kingdom of Apath now belongs to me, I'll not have cultists running around in my own backyard. I have ways of sniffing them out fairly quickly if they do exist, although my first priority is actually ensuring that the local populace submits to my authority without question. I will not tolerate insubordination."

Ruse flicked back his hair a bit, and continued,

"I do have two questions. One is what is witchstone? I've never heard of that precious resource before and it intrigues me. The second is what immediate impediments to my rule would you be able to identify, cultists advise? Basically, do you think I need to kill Kaiyaash, or can he be bent into a puppet servant to enact my will? I'm always on the lookout for good help - it's so hard to find competent, loyal help these days." Ruse said with a Sigh.

"Also, how readily would they take to the religion of a TRUE god? I scoff at their sun religion, but I forgive them as most don't have the privilege of being a real, true god of Yggdrasil. While not absolutely necessary, I would greatly prefer to spread the religion of mist in my new kingdom. I am not racist in this regard, and am willing to take on the souls all who would worship me, be they human, sharge, Mistella...hell I'd even take other gods, if they were so inclined. What are your thoughts on the possibility of religious conversion? What would I have to do to succeed?"

He comes here and approaches the desk if he can. Of course he is completely silent and well behaved thinking only the scientific and logical thoughts that belonged to him. Thoughts of observation his keen eye following and attempting to catch every small detail it could find. He was of course training his observation skills well doing this. Keeping a close eye to trifles and details others would not think important like the look of clothes the state of cuffs and kneecaps the look of repair on the face and of course his keen intellectual eyes kept sharp and apt attention to the eyes.

Pitcarn sat slowly, careful not to jar his jaw. He alloewd some of the tenseness to slip from his body, and his shoulders dropped, just a little as he began to deal with the pain, and attempt to recover, oh so slightly, but keeping the majority of his attention on Lictros.

"Essth, hCounthilleman, hwine hwas my preference, bput if tea hwiould be more hap- happropriate to hthe setting." Pitcarn winced in pain at the long words.

Anik goes inside the new hall and goes to make an Appointment to see councilman Roid.

((OOC: Just putting a poke here so you don't forget this thread, Nat.))

Pitcarn

"No, no, no," said Lictros, waving him aside. "Here it is.."

A woman bowed, presented three bottles of wine - red, silver, white - onto the table, as well as three cucumber sandwiches for Lictros. Two glasses, serviettes.

"Want something to eat while you're at it? Conclave's shout, of course. Try some of the silver wine.. Ganabrede blend, imported from the Realm Savage, my own personal bottle."

Max

"Do not be flippant with me, Max. Now, in my hand I hold a Callisti.." It was true: the silver glove thummed in his hand. "It will guide you through this.."

Are you Maxilita, Goddess of Fantasy and Adventure?

Do you harbour psychic abilities?

Do you own allegiance to a cult or sect - Osiris-Ra, Isuban, Metatron, so forth, besides the Conclave?

Do you promise not to betray the Conclave in thought or deed, and to be loyal to its utmost purpose?



Ruse


Jonaht cackled, bent over, laughing at Ruse. It was at once insulting, infuriating, and unnerving.

"I'm.. I'm sorry. True God? Hah! You are a unique self-defense mechanism of Yggdrasil, with certain shifting-area properties and the psychic domination of your people. Your abilities and adaptation skills are impressive, but certainly not.. divine. Sorry, High Lord, but I've studied the texts. I am one of the finest Yggdrasildic Scholars around, and I find the very claim insulting.."

She sobered up.

"Feel free to convert them if you can, but most Shage are highly resist to mind-fuckery of any sort, so be warned on that count. I don't care. If you can get them to think you the next Kaiyaash, all the power - the Kingdom of Apath is yours for all I care. But be cautioned - the reason the Shage people don't run this world, or haven't taken it by force, is their highly individualistic nature. They worship the Kaiyaash, but he does not rule those save the most devout. He will not be happy to see you there. Be careful.. I doubt that he will try direct assault, but the Kaiyaash is a deeply cunning Shage. We haven't yet found the previous Conclave-Lord of Apath.

"Do what you need to do, but try not to harass them - they will rise, and they will kill you, if that is the case. This is a long-term project, Ruse. Get rid of the Cult, secure control. If successful you will become one of the biggest players in the Conclave economy, rich beyond imagining.. but if not, you're as good as dead."

She smiled.

"Haven't heard of witchstone? I'm not surprised - it's an incredibly rare mineral. We believe all of the deposits in this Realm have been depleted. Very little has been found in Apath, but I know - I know - that it exists deeper in the jungles. It begins as simple bladestone, an incredibly sharp, common rock used by many Shage as the core of their weapons.. but it is vaguely sentient. We think. If not, it certainly has a metamorphosis stage - if no mortal eye sets watch upon it, so the theory goes, it eventually changes into witchstone. Witchstone is unique in that it forces a magical initiation upon those who hold it - incredibly dangerous, liberating, valuable stuff. Very few minerals are as coveted.

"Those who hold the witchstone develop, immediately, their own magical tradition - the stone is bound to them. If that stone is given to others, they will - slowly, but just as surely - learn the same magical tradition. Huge shifts in mystical focus are attributed to it. Babilu pays up to three hundred thousand Conclave Stones a kilogram. Rumour has that Msonus used to snort it.."

She shook her head.

"If you find some, keep it to yourself. People will do more than kill for that stuff, believe me.. and I don't think Apath needs the extra publicity at the moment."

Fran

Thank you. Now, what is your REQUEST? Have you come for an ASSOCIATESHIP? A MEETING? An INQUIRY? Something ELSE, perhaps? To set an INTERVIEW? Petition a LOW LORD? To request ACCESS CLEARANCE? To REPORT A CRIMINAL? Something ELSE, perhaps?

The screen shimmered and blinked. As it spoke, tin rattling in its voice, the words came up in several different languages which Fran couldn't read, as well as Script, the instinct-language of the Divines.

Anik

Anik is drawn by the strange computation-machines lining one wall. When he entered a certain range within a spare one, it flickered and greeted him.

Welcome to the HALL OF THE SUN. Telemetries and theoelectromagnetics declare you as LOW LORD ANIK, GOD OF CRAFT. Is this report truthful?

(False declarations punishable by public beatings)

Foun

"Mr. Holmes?" said the administrator. She looked up, shook her head, smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, you look like someone I used to know.. younger, of course. Ahem. Forgive me. How can I help, sir?"

"Apologies.."

Are you Maxilita, Goddess of Fantasy and Adventure?
Yes.

Do you harbour psychic abilities?
Unfortunately, no. They'd be quite useful against evil.

Do you own allegiance to a cult or sect - Osiris-Ra, Isuban, Metatron, so forth, besides the Conclave?
I owe allegiance to KoTGR- the Knights of the Golden Realm- as I am their leader. I've yet to start recruiting, though. Balverstus was a honorary member, I suppose. Then again, they aren't a cult or sect but a lawful order, so I suppose to the answer to that question is a definite no.

Do you promise not to betray the Conclave in thought or deed, and to be loyal to its utmost purpose?
I promise! And I don't break promises.

   Armanthor voided into this place and started toward the nearest person that could tell him how to become an associate with the conclave- the nearest one that looked as if they had any authority on the matter of getting him in.

   "Excuse me, " he said, "I'd like to become an associate of the Conclave.  Would you tell me where I need to go to do that? "

"An associate ship would be nice." Fran says, staring hard into the computer.

Picking up hos own glass, Pitcarn fills it with water, before reaching for the silver bottle.  he is beginning to feel he is on solid ground now, doing something he is familiar with.

"hGanabrede, I'm not familiar with Ganabrede. can you tell me more? I won't eat now though, mhy jaw, you sthee."

Placing the bottle down he reached for the red. It was a deep Shiraz, and Pitcarn decided against it, with the absence of food available to him. With one hand Pitcarn returned the bottle to the table and reached for the white. when he had done that, he drained his glass of water and inspected the bottle, waiting for Lictros to tell him about the Realm Savage vintage.

Ruse rolled his eyes and sighed at the Fiefmistress. One thing that annoyed Ruse was how scientific people get when thinking about gods. Instead of divine aura, it's theogenic field. Instead of resurrection from death, it's paradoxical persona refreshment something or the other. There was a term for everything. Yet...YET no one could truly explain the potency od the divines, of how they drew power from souls and manipulated the tree's seeds. Of their domain association affecting physical and metaphysical laws in unscientific ways. Then there was ascension, but that was another can of worms entirely.

With an audible sigh, Ruse said, "Ah...yet another disbeliever in the divine. I keep running into so many people with similar attitudes to yours. All I will say on the matter is that science can not ever know everything about the metaphysical, even if it thinks it does. But I'm not here to debate philosophy with you - I have better things to do."

Ruse flicked his hair back, and grinned. His frown turned upside down. He knew, as a Zealous god, that he was a chosen of Yggdrasil.

"Let's move onto Apath, shall we. I am most curious about witchstone but will look into that later. I agree with you that securing my authority there amongst the people, as well as hunting down the Osiris cultists dogs, should be a primary focus. The conclave will not tolerate cults like theirs, especially with the damage they can potentially do to the tree. Yggdrasil calls to me, and demands their blood be spilled in restitution."

"As for their Kaiyaash, I will make him obey me one way or the other, or just kill him publically. They would be hard pressed to doubt my strength if I topple their supposedly infallible lord. The Conclave doesn't have time to cater to strange practices when Osiris cultists are possibly working to kill us all as we speak."

Ruse motioned for the door, and asked,

"My beautiful Feifmistress, could you please direct me to the methodes portal? I think I have enough of a sense of the situation to determine my first steps. I will come see you if I have other questions."

My name is foun would you mind so kindly to tell me why the conclave requested my presence? I believe to speak of urgent matters it said or something along those lines. He turns his keen eyes upon her observing everything the best he could her fingers and hands, eyebrows, corner of the mouth, edge of the nose, and eyes of course were are all under his keen and sharp eye.

Pitcarn

"The Ganabrede vine is unique in that it is sentient, and actively attacks and devours anyone trying to harvest its delightful grapes," said Lictros. "Just one of the many pleasant curiousities of the Realm Savage. Roughly twenty thousand Conclave Stones a bottle. The taste is unlike anything you'll ever experience."

Lictros smiled.

"Tell me, Pitcarn. How would you like to travel to the Realm Savage? I need someone there, uh, running errands for me and whatnot. Someone with a strong military background, which I sense you have. It might also, if you play your cards right, bring about rapid promotion."

Max

"Good. It is done. You are bound. Max, you've been given a position of Low Lordship in the Extraplanar Information and Security Corps. This is important - we feel that Lictros is working against the Conclave abroad, in areas where its influence is weakest. It is important that you have an active duty off-world, too - according to a loophole in current Conclave Law, Lictros is not allowed to kill an off-worlder as you are working towards the further security of the Outer Conclave. So you'll gain a measure of protection.. but accidents happen, Max, and frequently. Be careful.

"There are three posts offered to you. One is in the Realm Savage, and it is the Nation of Karnal. The nation borders the horrible Kingdom of Apath, which your, uh, friend Ruse currently has stewardship of, but is otherwise open to the beautiful emerald oceans of that place. Lictros has established a small Conclave fort there, and that is where you will be staying. The second is in the City of Alkan - ahah, do not get so excited - as an extraplanar guide, soldier, and diplomat of Fort Seal. There is a chance, we think, that Lictros will move to have the Gates of Alkan smashed open - we cannot allow that to happen. The third, and last, is on the Realm Mundane. There is a huge cache of lost Earthborn tech in the continent of, uh.." Wyrn checked his notes. "Ostraylia? Estralia? Ayyoustraleeah? I'll have to double-check on that one. Regardless, we are attempting to set up a fort there, and require as much assistance as we can.. that tech might be vital to our operations."

Wyrn smiled.

"Choose one, Max. But remember that the choice is final."

Ruse

"Once again," said Jonaht, through clenched teeth, "I would advise against killing the Kaiyaash. It would end in rebellion and riots, something we don't have the manpower nor the interest in containing. If you cause such a disruption in the - relatively, at least - stable Apath, it's on your head."

She smiled.

"High Lord Ruse, I can't say that I like you very much, but I admire your courage and bravado. I'll take you to the Gate."

She took Ruse into the main waiting chamber and through one of the numbered doors. Inside the room was sparse, save for a guard who saluted when Jonaht entered. The gate itself was a shimmering, sparkly mess of fire and light.

"Walk through and will your destination. Once in Apath you want to go to Fort Craterborn, the Conclave stronghold in Apath, and inform those few there of your arrival. Do not dally. The faster you are under protection the smoother your transition will go. Be aware that there will not be a Methodes Gate at Craterborn - the strange currents in the Realm Savage mean that most of these beauties fail spectacularly. If you wish to return, you are to inform a certain Warden Noss and he will arrange transport, but it will be long and arduous. You're here for the long haul. Good luck, and Conclave prosper, High Lord."

The Gate waited.

Fran

The computer flickered.

Would you like to take the CALLISTI OATH, which is VOLUNTARY, or the OATHBLADE? Are you interested in FAMILIAR, AGGRESSIVE or ESTRANGED OPERATIONS?

Anik

Anik is drawn by the strange computation-machines lining one wall. When he entered a certain range within a spare one, it flickered and greeted him.

Welcome to the HALL OF THE SUN. Telemetries and theoelectromagnetics declare you as LOW LORD ANIK, GOD OF CRAFT. Is this report truthful?

(False declarations punishable by public beatings)

Foun


"Hmm.." said the administrator. "Foun, God of Magiscience?"

She tapped away at her terminal.

"Yes. Says here that theoelectromagnetic telemtries claim that there is a chance that you are, in fact, a reborn aspect of Leaguesman Foun. They'd like to offer you a Low Lordship. A Callisti Oath is necessary, however."

Armanthor

"Ah, yes," said the agent of the Conclave. "See those terminals there?" He pointed towards a line of mostly-empty, arcane-looking machinery. "Those computers will run you through."

"Yes that is correct." Anik replied, impressed at the speed with which the technological replacement was being implemented.

"What are the differences between the Callisti Oath and the Oathblade? Also, I'd prefer to join the Estranged Operations, though I would settle on Familiar if I can't." Fran says, glad that things where finally getting interesting.

Maxilita considered this carefully- for about two seconds. "I choose Alkan, Lord Wyrn. In additon, I'd like to request access to the Dread City of Tushmuhtut."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:57, Thu 04 Feb 2010.

Ruse grinned and flashed her a charming smile, and replied with words of cold silk,

"Ah a shame you detest me, because I like you very much. You are interesting to me, if not amusing. Certainly well-qualified for the position of Feifmaster."

He then walked with her to the Methodes portal.

"And don't worry I won't kill him right away, if ever. I will only execute him as a last resort, if he becomes unmanagable. And as for not getting back, as a god I can just portal my manifestation into nothingness, eliminating that paradox, and then return there from here. Although understandably most other beings can't do this so I will make sure to speak with Warden Noss and get on the up-and-up."

Ruse proceeded to step through the portal. Well, he didn't step through it so much as stand there and send a paradox through. That was one of the nifty fringe benefits of divinity.

   Armanthor nodded his acknowledgement, "Indeed.  I thank you.  "

   Then with a curt nod, he dismissed himself from the current interaction, moving toward the inidcated computer, all the while casting about to see if he could see the familiar face of Calbrey amongst the faces already present.

   He reached out with his divine sense to see if any of those within were godly, but went about trying to set up the contraption that the fellow had called a 'computer'.  He leaned forward in front of it, looking over its devices to try and find a way to access it, try to find out what it did and how it functioned.

((OOC: CBF broken jaw speak, just pretend it's in there))

Continuing to examine the colour of the white wine, Pitcarn considered Lictros offer. The wine was fairly inconsequential, and would have been dry and crisp, but considering the silver bottle that he hadn't yet touched...

Ptcarn replaced the second bottle and picked up the third, looking intently at the liquid, and feeling the weight that it held.

He also carefully considered the offer that Lictros was making him, fully aware how unlikely it was to come again. Wine this rare did not come along every day. Nor did offers to work in the realm Savage, but that mattered less. There was wine. Placing the bottle back down on the table, near Lictros, Pitcarn surmised his thoughts to the councilor.

"Rare as this wine must be, as a God of Food I am sorely tempted by it. I do have a particular fondness for grapes. But a posting in the realm Savage?" Pitcarn's mind was wandering along two tracks simultaneously.

Fully aware that he meant little to Lictros, the posting was likely a test to see if he was a worthy god to place trust in, and there was that unknown wine, so very, very tempting. Pitcarn leaned in to the councilor, so that the guards on the nearby tables couldn't hear, and asked for some specific details of what he might be tasked with doing:


Pitcarn leaned back, settling comfortably on his seat.

"Oh, and I would simply love some of that wine, it looks absolutely marvelous."

Pitcarn would have grinned at the thought of the wine, all talk of promotions and jobs forgotten in a moment, but he stopped when he felt another stab of pain from his jaw.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:24, Fri 05 Feb 2010.

He considered this for a moment. Could I discuss with someone the duties of being a lowlord and what it entails?

Pitcarn

"You would be a part of the Conclave, under official business, as a diplomat or ambassador or some such thing," said Lictros, smiling, "But you would have an ample amount of free time to spend yourself. Perhaps you would care to spend such free time on matters that might, or might not, affect the Conclave.. perhaps not. Regardless, it would be an experience, and you would be working for me. As you might know, High Lord Ruse now owns the Kingdom of Apath. You'd be, aheh, working with him on some matters - I'd send you to the Nation of Karnala, which rests between the ocean and Apath."

He smiled, poured Pitcarn some of the wine. If Pitcarn were to try it, he'd know that it was sublime: the taste could not be matched by any earthly vine.

"Of course, Karnala is not so much a shit-hole. It is technically mine, though I care not for it so much anymore. Perhaps, if you succeed in what I am asking you, you could inherit it."

Max

"Good," said Wyrn. "You are then to leave me and go immediately to the Chapel of Methodes, where you will be further briefed on your duties."

He frowned.

"Tushmuthut? Why would I give you access to there?"

Ruse

"Dislike was the word, not detest," said Jonaht, smiling. "Now that you are through, I imagine you have duties elsewhere.. ?"

Fran

The CALLISTI OATH is IMMEDIATELY BINDING and will hold you to the PRINCIPLES OF THE CONCLAVE. If you BREAK IT, you will DIE. The OATHBLADE is a small blade that will monitor your emotions and intentions, and if a HIGH LORD finds them worrying it will EXPLODE, killing you.

You may JOIN the ESTRANGED OPERATIONS, but a PSYCH EVALUATION via SYSTEMARCH SCAN is required first. You would have to CONSENT.

Anik

Thank you. Now, what is your REQUEST? Have you come for an ASSOCIATESHIP? A MEETING? An INQUIRY? Something ELSE, perhaps? To set an INTERVIEW? Petition a LOW LORD? To request ACCESS CLEARANCE? To REPORT A CRIMINAL? Something ELSE, perhaps?

Foun

"Of course," said the administrator. "The terminal informs me that High Lord Ruse is your current representative. Would you care to speak to him?"

Armanthor

Armanthor could not see Calbrey within. There were many Divine auras within.

The computer flickered and spoke when Armanthor came near.

Welcome to the HALL OF THE SUN. Telemetries and theoelectromagnetics declare you as AFFILIATE ARMANTHOR, GOD OF BATTLE. Is this report truthful?

(False declarations punishable by poisoning)

He nods, a small smile forming at the edge of his mouth that he quickly dampened and controlled he could not allow them to see his pleasure at how these things were turning out. Of course he knew little of ruse, but a god who observes as he does notices things although not much he knew enough to know that this could very easily play into his hands if he played the cards right.

"My goal is to kill Osiris-Ra. Having access to his unholy city would allow me to learn more about my foe. Not to mention gain some experience so i can reach Master." She said, simply.

Meeting Roid in his realm, he figured he better get acquainted with another old... well hopefully friend. "I would like to set up a meeting with Councilman Wyrn as requested by the councilman in my Low-Lord tasks." This would be one of 4 councilman meetings he would need to preform before he was ready to take on the Tower.

He grinned at her mischiveously, and replied,

"Well, a part of me wants to stay here, and entertain you perhaps. But alas, I cannot be sidetracked by trivialities in the light of my many, many duties. So I will bid you my leave."

He curtseyed a bit, and left.

Ruse headed back out and to the valley of the ten towers, where he'd plan on what to do next.

((To ten towers))

   Armanthor thought, and spoke cautiously, "I am Armanthor God of Battle and Terra.  Though I believe everything else is true to my knowledge.  "

   (Just five of so more minutes on the computer or I'd make a longer post.  )

"I'll be fine with the oathblade and the psych evaluation." Fran says.

"You would be a part of the Conclave, under official business, as a diplomat or ambassador or some such thing," said Lictros, smiling, "But you would have an ample amount of free time to spend yourself. Perhaps you would care to spend such free time on matters that might, or might not, affect the Conclave.. perhaps not. Regardless, it would be an experience, and you would be working for me. As you might know, High Lord Ruse now owns the Kingdom of Apath. You'd be, aheh, working with him on some matters - I'd send you to the Nation of Karnala, which rests between the ocean and Apath."

He smiled, poured Pitcarn some of the wine. If Pitcarn were to try it, he'd know that it was sublime: the taste could not be matched by any earthly vine.

"Of course, Karnala is not so much a shit-hole. It is technically mine, though I care not for it so much anymore. Perhaps, if you succeed in what I am asking you, you could inherit it."


Pitcarn didn't respond immediately to Lictros' offer, but sat and considered it. he lifted his glass, and smelled it, before spitting out the mixture of blood and saliva that had again filled his mouth from his broken jaw, and took a small sip. The wine was everything it had promised to be, even with blood befouling his tastebuds.

"I shouldn't like to get ahead of hmyself in that regard, Lord, hbut your offer is magnificent, and I hgladly accept it. The option to vizit a realm Sthavage, for a viocious god, isth not one I can easily sthay no to. I am more than happy to stherve you, as a represthentative of the Conclave in the realm Sthavage my Lord Councilman.

"I am willing to begin stherving in Karnala at your disthcretion."

Pitcarn took another small sip of wine and hoped desperately that his jaw may receive medical attention in the very near future.

Pitcarn

"Fantastic," said Lictros. "Now, about your jaw.. we can get a healer on that, if you like. Qualified and all. There are only some administrative issues to deal with now: namely, the Callisti Oath that you will have to take."

Max

"No, no, no," said Wyrn. "It does not suit my plans. I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to access Tushmuthut in the present. Access denied. Is there anything else?"

Fran

Proceed down the HALL and speak to the ADMINISTRATOR at the furthest wall. He will GUIDE YOU through the evaluation.


Anik

COUNCILMAN WYRN: Interview Times. Councilman Wyrn can see you here two days from now, at dusk. Is that SATISFACTORY?

The machine whirs, and a long piece of blue paper emerges from it: a ticket.

When the ticket turns red, the Councilman will see you.

Foun

She smiled, and one of the administrator's rings shined brightly. Suddenly, Foun knew where the valley of the Mist was - he could petition the High Lord himself.

"Is that all?"

Armanthor

Thank you. Now, what is your REQUEST? Have you come for an ASSOCIATESHIP? A MEETING? An INQUIRY? Something ELSE, perhaps? To set an INTERVIEW? Petition a LOW LORD? To request ACCESS CLEARANCE? To REPORT A CRIMINAL? Something ELSE, perhaps?
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:05, Mon 08 Feb 2010.

Anik takes out the ticket and says simply. "Yes, that is satisfactory." Leaving the hall he takes a glance at a god next to him (Armanthor) on another machine. He seemed familiar, another life, another reality, perhaps. He had so many he everything was jumbled.

He left the hall of the Sun.

   Armanthor glanced at Anik, inclined his head in a curt nod, his mouth a grim line of a smile, and turned back to the screen of this 'computer'.  He thought about it, the first answer wasn't so hard, but he was also curious as to what had brought Calbrey here and whether or not he would need some kind of divine mediator to aid him in whatever task he was facing.

   Armanthor said, "I'm here for an Associatship, but if I could make myself useful to the conclave in anyway, then I would like that, too.  Perhaps if they have any troops that need a leader, or have a task in which a militant hand is needed.  "

Fran nods at the computer, before smiling to herself and sauntering over to the desk. "Alrighty then, this won't be painful or anything will it?" Not that pain mattered to her well-being, she just didn't want any surprises. Kind of ironic, considering the line of work she was about to pursue.

He nods with a pleasant smile and leaves

(ooc-am I even able to go to the valley of mist right now?)

"Well, sthir, both of those sound hperfectly reasthonable. Should I have my hjaw seen to hfirst, in casthe there is danger of the Callisti mis-interpreting my hwords, or isth there no danger of that? I hwould prefer to get the administhtrative elements completed first, you sthee."

((OOC: Pitcarn is just starting to sound drunk now... I don't think having a broken jaw agrees with him :S))

((OOC: Foun, I'd wait for the conclave to contact Ruse over his channel first. If you just waltz up demanding associateship without giving him time to prepare, well...any high lord would be pissed.))

((:P Stop telling him what to do OOCly then! If he wants to make mistakes let him.))

Pitcarn

"You're only caught in the image of a broken jaw," said Lictros. "You are a Divine. Speak if you wish to speak. Concentrate only on the thought: and you will be freed. You can speak without the slurring, without the impediments, as long as you aren't gagged or your lips aren't sewn shut. Have some more wine. Try speaking normally.."

He smiled.

"Advantages of apotheosis. Now, there is a downside to this, Pitcarn. Would you like to hear it, or would you prefer a surprise?"

Max

(repeat)

"No, no, no," said Wyrn. "It does not suit my plans. I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to access Tushmuthut in the present. Access denied. Is there anything else?"

Fran

"It might be," said the administrator, non-commitally. "Depends on whether or not you're a traitor. Now is your last chance to back out, Affiliate Fran. Take the chance if you need it."

Armanthor

If you have COMBAT ABILITIES you are best suited to an AGRESSIVE ASSOCIATESHIP. Would you care for such an Associateship, ARMANTHOR?

Pitcarn sat for a moment, thinking on the Councillor's words. He took another drink of wine, composed himself, and addressed the being in front of him.

"As both a tactician and a warrior, I detest surprises Councilman. Especially when it comes to making plans. However, as a divine, and a god of food at that, I sometimes find that I appreciate them.

"This time though, it seems that I would much rather be forewarned."

"I understand. I don't have anything else to disc- wait. I suppose you'd like a look at what I recently obtained.."

Maxillita turned to the left slightly so that Wyrn wouldn't see exactly where she was pulling this stuff from. She then began drawing out various illegal weaponry that she had obtained from Dxacku, ranging from a BFG to a handgun- vibration swords, too.

She piled them in front of her, in a stack. "I'd like to to- um- turn these weapons in, no matter how useful they would while I was on conclave buisness, if you catch my drift." She said, attempting to be subtle in telling him that she she really, really liked them and would like to keep them.

Armanthor had his hands pressed to what ever surface he could find, and was leaning forward toward the terminal.  His mouth was a thin line as he thought.  He said, "Explain to me the finer points of that title, please.  Would I get to lead men in battle? That is where my strengths lie, in leading other men and destroying my foes with steel and combat prowess.  "

Pitcarn

Lictros nodded, and Pitcarn felt a sudden presence leap into his mind.


He smiled. "What do you say?"


Max


Wyrn sighed.

"They won't help you where you're going," he said. "Nevertheless, I suppose a little contraband couldn't hurt. Especially not now. You have my word that you might keep these weapons, on one single condition."

Fran

(repeat)

"It might be," said the administrator, non-commitally. "Depends on whether or not you're a traitor. Now is your last chance to back out, Affiliate Fran. Take the chance if you need it."


Armanthor

LEADING MEN and COMMANDING TROOPS is often an aspect of AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATESHIP. The role is a purely aggressive, mostly violent one, involving, often, soldier-work for the Conclave. If you succeed in this role, you will be swiftly promoted to LOW LORD, where you may command as many troops as you may muster, obtaining a career in the MILITARY ARM of the CONCLAVE.

...

The DRACHENORDEN are requesting military men who can easily command soldiers in the field of battle. Being able to command utterly, and take a hold over the morale of such troops, is a must. There will be a test. If you succeed, you will be paid in advance, given a mission, and promoted directly to LOW LORD.

maxilita grimaced in physical pain, as her theoelectromagnetic aura wavered and altered.

She began growing and developing rapidly, maturing to the age of 22 from the age of 15 in moments- her hair rapidly turning a deep red, her ceremonial armor itself warping into a more flattering outfit, now that it had something to flatter. (see portrait.) Her blade itself altered, becoming entirely made of a mysterious metal- it lengthened and grew a full cross-guard. It was definitely more european in appearance than the previous oriental weapons.

The blade was incredibly detailed, something practically impossible to replicate, and beautiful.

Maxillita stretched out her new body. "Hrm. So that's what becoming Mighty feels like. Now, what was the condition, Lord Wyrn?"

Taking another sip of the silver wine, and arranging his thoughts, the vicious god sat back and looked the Councilman in the eye.

"Lord, conditions around us change so fast, so that even when we think nothing can change, it all does. For instance, whatever the event in Ruse's valley, it has removed from me my troops which I was to complete my first mission for the conclave. I fear if I was to fail this mission, I might be removed from the conclave altogether.

"I was so assured in myself that I would be able to swiftly rise through Conclave ranks, but now my very position as an associate seems to be in jepordy. Unfortunate that it is Ruse again who blocks my rise, as he blocked my request for Low-Lordship. I can only hope that whatever peice of incompetence that Ruse has involved himself in grants him what is coming to him.

"I feel I can agree to your terms, Lord Councilman, though it fills my heart with lead."

Pitcarn


"Ah," said Lictros. "Don't you worry about that. I can secure you whatever you need for your trials ahead - and you don't need to agree to my terms now. Tell me, what did the Conclave promise you?"


Max

"That you inform me how you secured the contraband weaponry so that we might capture and apprehend the smuggler," said Wyrn. "And if you found such weapons in Niborkerese you are not to go to such a place again."

Fran

(repeat)

"It might be," said the administrator, non-commitally. "Depends on whether or not you're a traitor. Now is your last chance to back out, Affiliate Fran. Take the chance if you need it."

Armanthor

(repeat)

LEADING MEN and COMMANDING TROOPS is often an aspect of AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATESHIP. The role is a purely aggressive, mostly violent one, involving, often, soldier-work for the Conclave. If you succeed in this role, you will be swiftly promoted to LOW LORD, where you may command as many troops as you may muster, obtaining a career in the MILITARY ARM of the CONCLAVE.

...

The DRACHENORDEN are requesting military men who can easily command soldiers in the field of battle. Being able to command utterly, and take a hold over the morale of such troops, is a must. There will be a test. If you succeed, you will be paid in advance, given a mission, and promoted directly to LOW LORD.

Her eyes went wide. "I can't do that. He's getting out of the trade, and I gave my word I wouldn't turn him in."

Ruse arrives here, and heads to find an administrator. He commands the attention of the first one he sees who isn't helping another highlord or councilor.

"I am Highlord Ruse, and I need to see a conclave technologist - preferably earthborn - to requisition some modifications to my SUIT. Please direct me to where I need to go."

Pitcarn mused on the implications of Lictros' words, but snapped out of his reverie when he realesed that the councilman had asked a question.

"I thank you for your concern over the well being of my mission Councillor, and I will gladly accept your offer to secure me the resources that have been requisitioned by High Lord Ruse.

"I had been offered two squadrons of Earthborn flame troops, with an impressive array of equipment by the standards of my humble realm. I had thought them sufficient, but I am always pleased to lead more troops. Leadership of mortals seems to be a godly archtype I am more than suited to."

Pitcarn

"I can secure you as many as you need to get the operation done," said Lictros. "It will not do that the forces of Yaz'hatet shall succeed simply because one Associate is under-prepared. I also assume you agree to my conditions. I can arrange such a.. execution when you desire it."

Max

"Then I will have to take the weapons off you," said Wyrn, his voice a sudden snarl, his eyes aflame. "Make no mistake, Max, I tolerate you only for Balverstus's sake and for the sake of what you are worth. But you are expendable. More than expendable - you are a liability I take only at the suggestion of Roid. And then, only because he is a friend."

He slapped Max across the face.

"I am sick of your uppity games. I am sick of the mirth you feel in situations so dire. I am sick of your self-importance. Osiris-Ra plans to kill the World-Tree, the entire Odin-falling World-Tree, and you dick us around. You are pathetic. Worse. You are nothing. You are a tool, Max."

Fran

(repeat)

"It might be," said the administrator, non-commitally. "Depends on whether or not you're a traitor. Now is your last chance to back out, Affiliate Fran. Take the chance if you need it."

Armanthor

(repeat)

LEADING MEN and COMMANDING TROOPS is often an aspect of AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATESHIP. The role is a purely aggressive, mostly violent one, involving, often, soldier-work for the Conclave. If you succeed in this role, you will be swiftly promoted to LOW LORD, where you may command as many troops as you may muster, obtaining a career in the MILITARY ARM of the CONCLAVE.

...

The DRACHENORDEN are requesting military men who can easily command soldiers in the field of battle. Being able to command utterly, and take a hold over the morale of such troops, is a must. There will be a test. If you succeed, you will be paid in advance, given a mission, and promoted directly to LOW LORD.

Ruse

"High Lord," said the administrator. "If you are to travel to the Markets of Nicodemus and thus search out the Artificer Aurhah, he will happily fix whatever problems you might be having at the cost of the Conclave."

She simply stared at him, her hand going to her reddened cheek.
 She then went the door. "Please allow me to leave so I may perform the task you have ascribed to me, Lord Councilman."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:29, Fri 19 Feb 2010.

"Yes." Fran says to herself. "It's not like I have anything to worry about."

Ruse nodded, waved, and was gone.

He left for the markets.

"Well Councilman, I again thank you for your generosity. I trust what the Conclave originally offered will more than suffice, but having a third squad in reserve would naturally out my mind at ease. I will also be accompanied by a token force of my own people, a mere five soldiers, but they may have potential to be great leaders of my people." Pitcarn smiled sadly at this. He doubted that all five of the soldiers would return.

"Naturally, I accept your terms. I will leave on my associate mission as soon as it pleases you, Councilman, and once that business is begun we can in turn begin to arrange the other necessities. Once I have collected the troops at the Methodes Gate and left for Perigo, should it please you I could remain here and we could work out all details we need to at once."

Pitcarn finished his glass of wine, and placed the empty goblet down on the table.

Pitcarn

"Yes, yes, yes," said Lictros, eager. "We can be faster than that. Travel to Perigo with utmost speed, and when you're there.." Lictros draw a small, white sphere from within his pockets. "When you reach your destination, smash that orb. It will alert me, and I will guide the troops to your location in Perigo. You may take your leave from me now, however, though I expect once you are in Perigo that I can continue with the termination."

Max

"Not before you tell me who gave you the contraband weaponry," snarled Wyrn. "I can take the information from you, of course, but I would prefer not to have to. I have spoiled myself with enough ugly, treacherous minds. I cannot care less about your blatant gender issues or your paradoxical power complex, and I fear that in order to get the information I seek I would have to delve deep within your fractured, embittered psyche. I would rather fight the lions of Margath. So tell me, Max, or you will find things difficult indeed."

Fran

"Right," said the administrator. "Come with me."

The administrator led Fran through several winding corridors behind the Hall of the Sun, eventually ending up within a small, dimly lit operation chamber. Fran admired the various scalpels, restraints, and other implements of mind-surgery found within. Standing there was a bearded Systemarch in a doctor's apron.

"Welcome, friend, welcome," he said. "Fran, is it?"

Armanthor

(repeat)

LEADING MEN and COMMANDING TROOPS is often an aspect of AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATESHIP. The role is a purely aggressive, mostly violent one, involving, often, soldier-work for the Conclave. If you succeed in this role, you will be swiftly promoted to LOW LORD, where you may command as many troops as you may muster, obtaining a career in the MILITARY ARM of the CONCLAVE.

...

The DRACHENORDEN are requesting military men who can easily command soldiers in the field of battle. Being able to command utterly, and take a hold over the morale of such troops, is a must. There will be a test. If you succeed, you will be paid in advance, given a mission, and promoted directly to LOW LORD.

"Yes, I'm Fran." Fran says calmly. "And, you have quite an array of tools here." She says, glancing at the surgical implements. "And fortunately I see no reason for you to use them on me."

"I. Can't. Do. That. An oath is an oath. Please don't make me break one oath to obey an-"

A hologram of Fierce appeared, leaning against the wall.

"The guy's name is Dxacku of the Stars. He's got the permits, he's just not allowed to sell to a kid like Max here who doesn't. Currently in Xi."

Max stared at the fierce god. "Fierce! What the hell? I promised."

Fierce laughed. "Keyword there is that YOU promised. Plus, the guy's unkillable. What're you worried about?"

Pitcarn

(repeat)

"Yes, yes, yes," said Lictros, eager. "We can be faster than that. Travel to Perigo with utmost speed, and when you're there.." Lictros draw a small, white sphere from within his pockets. "When you reach your destination, smash that orb. It will alert me, and I will guide the troops to your location in Perigo. You may take your leave from me now, however, though I expect once you are in Perigo that I can continue with the termination."

Max

"Xaaku," said Wyrn. "I knew it. Roid was right.."

He smiled.

"Fierce God," he said, finally. "We meet at last. Tell me.. how does it feel to be caught in the body of one so pathetic?"

Fran

"None whatsoever, provided you comply fully," said the Systemarch. "Now, this might be quite an intrusive process. You may leave now, if you wish. Last chance."

Armanthor

(repeat)

LEADING MEN and COMMANDING TROOPS is often an aspect of AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATESHIP. The role is a purely aggressive, mostly violent one, involving, often, soldier-work for the Conclave. If you succeed in this role, you will be swiftly promoted to LOW LORD, where you may command as many troops as you may muster, obtaining a career in the MILITARY ARM of the CONCLAVE.

...

The DRACHENORDEN are requesting military men who can easily command soldiers in the field of battle. Being able to command utterly, and take a hold over the morale of such troops, is a must. There will be a test. If you succeed, you will be paid in advance, given a mission, and promoted directly to LOW LORD.

"The same way a caterpillar feels in it's cocoon, I suppose." Fierce said, then his image disappeared.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:49, Thu 25 Feb 2010.

"Yes, intrusiveness is no worry of mine. I get a little intrusive at times too." Fran said calmly. "Shall be begin, then?"

Pitcarn pushed back his chair and stood. "I thank you Councillor, for your time and understanding. I will begin my mission immendiately. I will depart, so that I may put all my energy into my task."

Pitcarn walked from the room, and left the Valley Divine.

Max

"You are a deeply untrustworthy individual, Max," said Wyrn. "This, and your avoidance to your own directed task, are your greatest weaknesses. I'm considering killing you now. A the funeral, I thought you were capable of something. Of serving the greater good. Perhaps of being given the blessing of the Emperor of Logos himself! But all I see now is a child. A child with her priorities twisted and broken."

He frowned.

Fran

"Absolutely," said the Systemarch, strapping Fran down. When Fran was secured, the Systemarch broke off one of its hundreds of teeth - a small thing - and bade Fran open her mouth so she could chew it.

"Break that with your own teeth and the process will begin," said the Systemarch.

Armanthor

(repeat)

LEADING MEN and COMMANDING TROOPS is often an aspect of AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATESHIP. The role is a purely aggressive, mostly violent one, involving, often, soldier-work for the Conclave. If you succeed in this role, you will be swiftly promoted to LOW LORD, where you may command as many troops as you may muster, obtaining a career in the MILITARY ARM of the CONCLAVE.

...

The DRACHENORDEN are requesting military men who can easily command soldiers in the field of battle. Being able to command utterly, and take a hold over the morale of such troops, is a must. There will be a test. If you succeed, you will be paid in advance, given a mission, and promoted directly to LOW LORD.

Anik came back and and looked for any indication of where Councilman Wyrn's office might be and followed them to there. If there were no indications then he would ask either the machine for directions or the information desk.

Fran does as she's told, opening her mouth and chewing on the tooth.

Maxillita was just confused now. "What the <I>fuck<?i> are you going on about? I need you to open this door and lead me out of here if I'm to do that damn job because if you haven't noticed one of your three doors will kill me instantly and we also just went through a maze of corridors to get here!"

Max

Wyrn snarled, slapped Max again. Harder. She crashed to the floor, choking on blood and teeth.

"Fuck? Fuck? I am a Councilman, worm, and you'll speak to me accordingly. Hold that tone with me once more and I'll have you hanging the same way as Summers dropped. Or you can fight me. Would you like that? Would you like to fight me? Would you like to fuck Wyrn, the Ancient Shadow?"

Fran

There was no amazing psychic experience. Only immediate blackness, like a power anesthetic.

Fran awoke. The Systemarch was smiling over her.

"You've passed, miss," he said. "Which bodes well for you. Now, you've got one last chance to get out. If you still want to be part of His Majesty's Secret Service then I'll have to take you to the top brass for assignment. We've aligned some personality-blocks and a few thought-niggles, nothing serious, nothing specific, standard procedure. In three years after retirement or promotion from Associateship you can apply to have those removed."

Armanthor

(Armanthor's been dropped from the Hall of the Sun)

Anik

"There, uh, must be some.. mistake," said the administrator. She smiled nervously. "Councilman Wyrn's quite busy at the moment. Maybe your ticket's defective? Let me have a .."

"No."

From the thinnest shadow came a towering figure conjured out of single blackness, roughly in the likeness of a man. Anik remembered that it was the tradition emissary of Wyrn.

"I'll take Low Lord Anik now, Janice," said the shadow. "Thank you."

Maxilita stood, and looked Wyrn in the eyes after she spat out her teeth. She smacked Wyrn back across the face with all her strength. "We challenge you to a fair public duel." Both the voice of Max and Fierce ran together simultaneously. "We will save this tree, and slay all evil that stands in our way, wear it crown or collar."

"Some uh... what?" Fran asks curiously. "I don't really know what either of those do. But I'm still fine with joining."

Anik thanked the teller and followed the emissary to Wyrn.

Armanthor nodded, fire in his eyes showing that he was indeed interested in this proposition.  "I'll accept this offer.  What now do I have to do.  ", he said in a composed, business-like tone.

Max

Wyrn looked at Max, entranced by the sudden lunacy, the complete foolishness, he found within the youth. And then his face burst into a grin, and he cackled madly.

"A duel? Very well. As the challenged, I invoke my rights as given under the Tongue of Odin XI. I choose the immediate duality of weapons for challenger and the challenged: the Logos of the Enlightened and the Apparition of Another. In this manner, in the spirit of fairness, I will use the Logos and you can channel the Fierce Deity. Or you can use a Logos, if you - aheh - find one.

"No swords, blades, guns, psychic manifestations, god powers or similar allowed.

"I choose the time and the place: the Courtyard of Challenges, at the time of midnight, when the shadows are deepest.

"The terms are thus: a death must be obtained in order for the victor to become apparent. This will become personal if your cowardice gets the best of you, and I will take further actions to the full extent of the law."

Wyrn snarled once more.

"The terms are set. Get out of my sight."

Fran

"Excellent," said the Systemarch. "It seems Wyrn is busy for the moment, however. Would you care for a glass of water? Your mouth must be awfully dry."

Fran, with a surprise, realised that it was.

Armanthor

The screen shimmered.

Offer? Did you wish to apply for an AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATE or for INITIATION INTO THE DRACHENORDEN?

Anik

The Shadow took Anik through winding passages beneath the Hall of the Sun, finally leading him into a waiting room of some variety.

"If you wish to speak directly to myself, you must wait here for a few minutes," said the shadow. "I apologize for that. Nevertheless, I assure you that I am perfectly capable of answering your questions in this form."

She voided out, re-appearing in the Valley above (that the only way I can think of leaving like he says, what with the maze and the doors and whatnot)

She then to the place she was supposed to go to speak with the person she was supposed to speak with about the mission she was on.

"Many depend on how secure the area is... so still many will have to be told in person." He smiles as if it was obviously he was being his overly paranoid self.

"But a few official ones yes.

It is one of my tasks to see you in regards to Operation NO involving my suggestions to the valley security. While that is my main excuse for coming here to see you, it is never the less important in it's own right. It should be noted that when I submitted those suggestions they were made with the assumption of the anti-technology wards about the valley, and so things are a bit easier... but so many more holes have opened up, one that need to be thought out, worked in, and then covered up, so the defenses are complete.

The second and only slightly less public reason is something that I have spoken to Councilman Roid about as well, involving the towers, but that can be discussed in more detail after the first is covered."

((Max you can't be here and the arena at the same time.

Hey Nat... can you actually post pone the match until Player are able to WATCH it... I mean you instantly started it.))
This message was last edited by the player at 11:51, Sun 14 Mar 2010.

Crailek appears here, and immediately sinks into the shadows. He searches for the shadow of Wyrn, which should be easy, given his domain of such.

Fran

(repeat)

"Excellent," said the Systemarch. "It seems Wyrn is busy for the moment, however. Would you care for a glass of water? Your mouth must be awfully dry."

Fran, with a surprise, realised that it was.

Armanthor

(repeat)

The screen shimmered.

Offer? Did you wish to apply for an AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATE or for INITIATION INTO THE DRACHENORDEN?

Anik

"I.. see," said the Shadow. "This is unfortunate. Alas, I am destined to do battle with your subject - perhaps you would care to watch? We can talk freely after I win. You will be invited to the afterparty, of course."

Crailek

He saw that Wyrn wasn't present within the Hall of the Sun at the moment.

Crailek furrows his metaphysical brow, then heads back to the Ten Towers, and more specifically, towards his.

Fran

(repeat)

"Excellent," said the Systemarch. "It seems Wyrn is busy for the moment, however. Would you care for a glass of water? Your mouth must be awfully dry."

Fran, with a surprise, realised that it was.

Armanthor

(repeat)

The screen shimmered.

Offer? Did you wish to apply for an AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATE or for INITIATION INTO THE DRACHENORDEN?

Anik

(repeat)

"I.. see," said the Shadow. "This is unfortunate. Alas, I am destined to do battle with your subject - perhaps you would care to watch? We can talk freely after I win. You will be invited to the afterparty, of course."

"Why, yes. A glass of water would be nice." Fran says, smiling pleasantly. "Is there anything else I should know about?"

Anik rolled his eyes. "She is a rash one isn't she." Anik said, though his tone betrayed him a bit, more sympathy for her than an accusation. He paused for a moment. "You are going to thoroughly teach her a lesson about the order of things arn't you? I don't want to waste my time to see a single strike kill." Either way, he would go to the Duel. Their chat would have to wait.

Fran

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Armanthor

(repeat)

The screen shimmered.

Offer? Did you wish to apply for an AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATE or for INITIATION INTO THE DRACHENORDEN?

Anik

As Anik left:

"Oh, it will be interesting, especially for a .. distinguished scientist to view.."

With that, the shadow disappeared, and Anik left.

Pitcarn appears in the Hall of the Sun and immediately begins to walk to the room with the Gate of Methodes.

Fran

(repeat)

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Armanthor

(repeat)

The screen shimmered.

Offer? Did you wish to apply for an AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATE or for INITIATION INTO THE DRACHENORDEN?

Pitcarn

Pitcarn is led through the winding corridors and twisting rooms beneath the Hall of the Sun, eventually coming up to a nondescript door guarded by two soldiers. They see his Seal, nod, let him in without a fuss. Within the spacious room there were two dozen or so heavily armed Earthborn soldiers. Many held large, arcane looking lances with flames on the end, while others sharpened knives or sipped at cool water. Some were carrying standard automatic rifles. They were laughing, chatting to each other.

Before Pitcarn could even asses the situation, he was attacked by a naked woman. No - not attacked, but she suddenly appeared in front of him, her perfect breasts in full view. He saw her teeth were sharpened, and her hair was a wild flame-red. She was tattooed and stunningly beautiful. The soldiers ignored her, he saw. Pitcarn saw that she was carrying a naked knife.

"I assume these are your men," said the woman. "I suggest you take them and don't bring them back, Low Lord. They've been through my liquor cabinet. Not the best company." She smiled, offered her hand to Pitcarn. "Fiefmaster Jonaht. I'm in charge of the Chapel of Methodes, and it is I who will need to sign you off when you are ready to depart."

Pitcarn takes the offered hand, and shakes it, impressed by the warrior.

"Thank you Feifmaster, I am pleased to meet you. I will gladly take the men with me now. I can only hope that they are not too inebriated to do the work I require of them.

"What must a sign to gain them under my command, and ready to depart?"

Fran

(repeat)

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Armanthor

(repeat)

(please reply, Armanthor, or I will bounce you from the Hall)

The screen shimmered.

Offer? Did you wish to apply for an AGGRESSIVE ASSOCIATE or for INITIATION INTO THE DRACHENORDEN?

Pitcarn

"Nothing at all. The shake told me enough. You have the potential to be great, Pitcarn. Do not allow the creature above to ruin it all." She smiled faintly. "I have work, I'm afraid. Walk through the left-most door when you're ready, and command the troops to follow you."

Stepping through the directed door, Pitcarn looks for the soldiers. Sizing them up, he directs them to form up around him, before stepping through the gate to Perigo, to his current location.

As Pitacrn steps through, he vanishes, appering again after a few seconds in the gate chapel. He leaves, and begins to make his way to the barracks.

Fran

(repeat)

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Armanthor

(Armanthor's been bounced from the Hall of the Sun)

Pitcarn

There was a feeling of utter completion, the soldiers stepping through the shimmering Gate of Methodes behind him into Perigo.

A blight upon the land - stars and stones - twin blades wrought to kill efficiently - lights and sounds - a sacred stick -

They were there.

(REPEAT)

Pitcarn makes his way to the Barracks

*Looks around not knowing what he is looking for here exactly.* "So.. I was told to come here for answers, anyone know why I was called here?" Taramore sort of talks to the air around him, unsure of who to ask.

Fran

(repeat)

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Pitcarn

Pitcarn soon left the Hall of the Sun, finding himself not long after at the barracks. (Move to the Valley)

Taramore

The Hall of the Sun was a grand building, made of the most beautiful diamond, a thousand jagged points clawing at the sky. Outside, two machines of solid silver, slight silver light coming from within, stood guard.

Citizen. Are your intentions just? one asked, its metallic voice booming.

'What is this being to refer to me as a "Citizen.." I will let that insult slide for now..' Taremore gives the sentinel a slightly annoyed look but them lets it fade away. "I am here to ask why the Conclave asked my presence here, and what exactly this place is, beyond that I have no plans of staying longer than I have to, your land.. disturbs my flesh in many ways.."

Fran

(repeat)

(Fran, reply to this thread or I'll bounce you from the thread)

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Taramore

Your name is Taramore, God of Mutation yes slash no? We can tell you if you confirm and display a minor act of power for confirmation. The metallic voice boomed, seeming at once inviting and alien. The silver light from within shifted at certain intervals. It was a sophisticated machine.

<From market of nic>

Ruse arrives here, and heads to the methodese chapel.

SUIT, please tell me about some of your new features compared to my old standard model. I need to know what you can do and fast.

Taramore raises a hand and makes the blood on it form as a small person, who then runs around in a circle on his palm and is joined by four more of these small blood people who also run in a circle. Just in case that isn't enough he turns his other arm into a blade made of bone.

Fran

(repeat)

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Taramore

You are Taramore, Lord of Mutation, said the Silver Shambler. And the Conclave wishes to offer you a position of Associateship within its hallowed ranks, depending on your ability. That is the reason for the summons.

Ruse

Of course, High Lord.


Soon Ruse is at the Chapel of Methodes, beneath the Hall of the Sun, and the guards smile at him and move away from the door, allowing him entrance. They understand that he is a Conclave-Lord.

Ruse walked briskly past the guards, not bothering to wave. He needed to head to Alkan immediately.

He went to the methodese chapel, which was probably already attuned to Alkan given the current situation. If it was not, he quickly attuned it himself and sent a manifestation through.

Taramore glares at the "Silver" shambler, the word like Acid to him right now but doesn't say anything about it. "What do I gain for joining this order?"

Fran

(repeat)

"Not at all," said the Systmarch, handing Fran a long glass of water. "Except that - well, yes, there is much you should know about. Too much, of course. Wyrn will assign you to an OPERATION. Something obscure and arcane, I"m sure, but.."

He smiled.

"Intelligence - it is the lifeblood of the Conclave."

Taramore

An Associate (Brown) is a full member of the Conclave without an official title or duty. They are often given missions by the Conclave, and are held on call. They receive a single vote in open councils, and answer directly to a Low Lord. In return for their good work they receive Conclave Stones and political favour, both which will help them advance in the ranks. They are considered more like agents-to-hire then actual full members and are considered to be fully expendable.

The Silver Shambler was unflinchingly obvious and precise. It was as if it were reading from a manual - perhaps it was. It continued.

There are three branches of Associateship.

Aggressive Operations are the largest branch of the Associateship, and involve military and strategic campaigns, invasions, and assaults. This field wars against all threats to the Conclave, active or otherwise.

Familiar Operations is the second-largest field, and involves manual labour, administrative tasks, paperwork, and ensuring the checks and balances of the Conclave are kept under control. Familiar Operations also include research tasks, and scientifically inclined Gods often join up to the field in order to receive grants while they work on their studies.

Estranged Operations involves intelligence work and subtler tasks not suited for some.


Ruse

As Ruse entered the Chapel of Methodes, his SUIT responded to him cheerfully.

You do not wish to enter Fort Seal at this time, High Lord Ruse. According to various magical fluctuations and current empirical data anomalies, there is an %87 chance of your death and a %94 chance of my own destruction. It would be folly.

It pleasantly ignored his other inquiries.

You are going to be a...finicky SUIT, aren't you? Loyal but opinionated...we'll have to work on that later. However, I am fully aware that I am endangering myself by going to Alkan. However, if Chalybis is not stopped this could inflict egregious damage upont he tree of life. It defies my honor as a zealous god to just stand by while Yggdrasil is in peril. I will gladly risk my life in exchange for the power and favor her ladyship has granted me.

However, you are too valuable a tool to risk in a 94% chance of destruction, so I will paradox you along with some other items I'm carrying over to my realm self, so should I die I will both be able to reclaim my possessions quickly while also not risking their destruction.

Ruse pulls his order scales out, and weaves a fate reinforcing his success and potency in his alkan endeavours. He then whisks all of his possessions besides his robes away to elsewhere and with a sigh of stubborn determination and committment he sends a manifestation throught he chapel to Alkan, less concerned for his life and more concerned for Yggy's wellfare.

When Ruse sends his manifestation through, he takes this manifestation and finds the bureaucrats in the Chamber of the Commerce of Ambaldros, here in the halls of the sun.

Ruse feels the magic surge through him, experiences the familiar rush of Fate, and then a staggering low - even worse than having one's own Fate negated. It was as if Ruse had been caught, for only a split second, in the blinding chill of the Void itself. And then - he was back. Normal. He wasn't sure if that meant the spell had failed or not..

Of course, High Lord.  I will not follow to Alkan.

There is a dazzling of prismatic lights - and a feeling of completion - and Ruse appears in Alkan.

The other Ruse, the present Ruse, soon found himself within a grand, pristine, circular room - the Chamber of the Commerce of Ambaldros. There within the huge room, in various states of bureaucratic work, were some hundred men and women - Divine, mortal, Systemarch and the occasional Callisti to verify statistics. The secretary glances over to Ruse.

"May I help you, Lord?" he asked.

Ruse nodded, and said,

"Yes, I am here to confirm that the budget for Operation HIEROPHANT has been approved. The bidget code is ROID-XCD655. Please process this immediately."

The secretary smiled, looked at his terminal, tapped a little bit at the arcane keys, spoke the code once more.

"You've been fully approved," said the secretary. "Operation HIEROPHANT is a go."

Ruse nodded his approval, and replied,

"Also, please direct me to Jonathan Marse. I need to speak with him immediately."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:02, Mon 03 May 2010.

"Of course. Right away, High Lord Ruse," said the secretary.

Ruse was led past desk after desk filled with mountains of paper, fitted with machinery.. until they reached an isolated desk - no other close to it by about ten meters - towards the back of the room. The scruffy, youthful looking Earthborn with money-coloured eyes swiveled around upon his chair, listening to blaring music from his SUIT while tinkering about with an advanced glyph-calculator of sorts. He was dressed in loose, casual Earthborn clothing of jeans and an easy shirt.

The music stopped when he saw the secretary and Ruse.

"Howdy, guys," he said, grinning to himself. "And to what pleasure do I owe this disruption of my work?"

Ruse looked to the secretary, and said,

"Thank you - that will be all. You may return to your desk now."

Looking back to the earthborn, Ruse replied,

"Ah, Jonathan Marse I presume? I would like to discuss both a business venture as well as a political opportunity with you. I am High Lord Ruse, pleased to make your acquaintance. I have it from a very reliable source that you are a talented individual."

The secretary ignored Ruse's arrogance, smiled at Marse, and returned to his desk.

"Roid, of course," said Marse, smiling broadly now. "He's the only one who's happy enough to share me with friends, and, I think, to complement me. Which would make you High Lord Ruse, U.I., something of a stir within the intelligence community lately. I believe you are going to ask me to join Operation HIEROPHANT," he said, reaching to the small icebox beneath his desk. He withdrew two frosty glass bottles, emblazoned with red logos, popped one and gave the other to Ruse. "Coke? Not the new, pathetic version, post-Territory, but the rather nicer bubbly Old Coke, before 2403. I run a factory that produces them, you know. In my spare time."

He talked quickly and confidently.

"Roid's always a little off the mark," said Jonathan Marse, still with the smile. "I'll take a thousand on top of whatever he's told you to offer me as a standard fee and as a base rate for my salary."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:38, Mon 03 May 2010.

((Wait is he jonathan hast or jonathan marse? Marse is what roid said.))

Ruse shook his head and declined the soda,

"I'm not feeling hungry right now, unfortunately. Long story." he said with a frustrated sigh.

Then he looked back at Jonathan, and replied,

"Yes, apparently I am causing a stir everywhere I go, despite my best attempt to do the contrary. And yes, Roid is the one who gave me this lead. I am the director of Operation HIEROPHANT, the newest Conclave operation to date. I am looking for good help - a commodity that is so hard to find these days it is simply exasperating."

Ruse flicked his long, silky, sensuous white hair back, and continued,

"You have a very good resume, mister Marse/Hast (whichever is correct lol). If you are as good as Roid claims, I would like to offer you the position of Commerce Manager of HIEROPHANT. Given your talent and status, you would answer only to myself and Roid so far as HIEROPHANT is concerned, and this is a new arena in politics that is ripe with untapped potential to be seized by the opportunistic."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:44, Mon 03 May 2010.

(Marse, sorry - I'm a little tired but enjoying this particular subplot. Edited.)

"If I am as good as Roid claims?" laughed Marse, sipping the Coke. "He isn't aware of half the investments I've made, businesses I've secretly run, Operations I've headed. There's talk, rising, ever so slowly of me being in line to inherit Council and I've been offered a position as Executive Supreme at the Apotheosis Circle, which I denied for reasons of taste. If Roid had any idea of how vast my fortune was.." His frown dropped, almost, resumed itself. "But I digress. Forgive me. I would be happy to accept a position as Manager of Commerce at Operation HIEROPHANT. I would also," he added, smirking, "Enjoy first offer as Leading Director if we ever get a psychic-House off the ground. I've been meaning to get into some harder work."

He sipped again.

"I imagine you'll've started with a support Operation," he said. "This would be wise. We'll also need a base of operations. Any idea towards that front? And if you give me your Seal I can take the four grand now and begin working for you straight away."

He looked towards someone behind Ruse. "Hey, Ghurhaff?" he yelled. "As of now I quit!"

There was a voice from behind: "Permanently?"

"For now. Wait until I change my mind," yelled Marse, smiling apologetically to Ruse.

((Wow he's the goofy yet competent type? Very nice. I guess since I'm human and he is human I find him appealing.))

Ruse withdrew his seal from somewhere indeterminate on his body, but did not give it to Jonathan yet.

"Very well, you're hired! However, I am not sure what Roid told you or not, but right now we have a limited budget. As such, and yes I am willing to give you 4000 stones instead of 3000, but your salary after today will be based totally on how much income the investments bring in. I was thinking a flat 5% of all profits would go to you, both of HIEROPHANT's investments as well as my own. That is a high percent I know, and you could potentially make a small fortune, but I consider investing in you as an investment in both my and this operation's future. Does this agree with you? If not, let's negotiate right now so we are both on the same page right fromt he get-go."

"Let's say five percent for now, with renegotiation available from either side depending on how we're doing, financial-wise," Marse said. "And with me on board, we'll be doing fine. Hell, let's make it a flat ten percent. You'd pay no less for a competent literary agent, I fear, and I am better than that. And I have as much freedom of action as I can possibly have - you and Roid are my partners, not my superiors. Consider me a third musketeer. And I can walk at any time. Besides this," he said, sipping again, now from Ruse's bottle, for he'd finished his first, "I think we'll get along fine. Your opinions as Director will trump mine, of course, and Roid's yours.. but otherwise? We'll be okay. Yeah, we'll be fine."

He looked at Ruse now, and then to the Conclave Seal.

"We'll be needing a building, too. I want my own office. With a fridge - no, a bar. And a couch. I can organize that for you, I think," he said.

Ruse grinned mischiveously at the man.  He was a true opportunist, and had a certain arrogance to him. Not Ruse level of course, but confidence. He liked that, especially if it was well-deserved.

"Okay, I'll pay you a 10% commission on the profits we earn from investments, renegotiable as we go but unchangable without both our consent. Also, when we gain a headquarters I'll make sure you have your own office. With a bar and a couch in it. Really, I intend to have our headquarters be rather mordern, although still aesthetically pleasing to the eye. But that will come later. And yes besides myself and Roid, you will not answer to anyone in HIEROPHANT - I'll make sure of that myself if need be."

Ruse handed him his high lord seal so he could start doing things with money.

"Here are my present budget allocations, and I authorize you to have access to the following monies for the purposes of investing them for both myself and HIEROPHANT:

1.) I authorize that 10,000 of my own conclave stones be taken from my personal account and invested directly into an area of your choice that will ultimately be most lucrative. The owner of the investments and the recipient of the proceeds will be myself, with you gaining 10% of my profits as we agreed. Have profits deposited directly into my account, with 10% going into yours.

2.) I authorize 6000 stones from the HIEROPHANT budget be taken and invested  directly into an area of your choice that will ultimately be most lucrative, with the ownership of these investments and the recipient of the proceeds being Operation HIEROPHANT itself, not me, with you gaining 10% of the profits as we agreed. Have profits deposited directly into the budget, with 10% going into your account.

3.) I authorize 2000 of my personal conclave stones to be transferred from my account into yours as half of your 4000 base pay we agreed on.

4.) I authorize 2000 stones from the HIEROPHANT budget to be transferred from my account into yours as half of your 4000 base pay we agreed on.

Where or how these monies are invested is your call, and one of the reasons we hired you. I also want to give you this freedom to see what you can do unhindered.

This leaves us with 1000 stones in the HIEROPHANT budget as an emergency cushion. Your base pay and thus your salary is being paid by both my own pocket and HIEROPHANT, both for my own benfit (I can certainly use more personal wealth) as well as to lessen the burden on the HIEROPHANT budget. All HIEROPHANT monies must stay within HIEROPHANT ultimately, and while we are free to add our own money to the budget if we so choose, Roid made it quite explicit that this is a 1-way transaction. As for a headquarters, we will look into that soon, but first and foremost we need to get more money to work with, and gaining lots of profit should be the primary focus for this first stage of this project SUPPORT. After that, when our budget stabilizes, the focus will shift to a headquarters as well as campaigning the higher ups in the conclave. I will try to approach some people now though, when I get the chance."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:48, Mon 03 May 2010.

"Thank you for hiring me," said Jonathan Marse, grinning, as he sipped at his 25th Century Coke. "You will never regret the decision." He took the Seal, ran it quickly through his own systems, and then smiled. "I am bought and paid for, High Lord Ruse. Now, as to your requests.."

He scribbled down Ruse's requests upon a sheet of paper, for ease of reference later.

1. H.L. Ruse PER; 10,000 CS > lucrative market (own choice); pft > Ruse.
2. Op. HI. BUDGET; 6,000 CS > lucrative market (own choice); pft > HI.
3. Payment for J. MARSE.

"Too easy," said Marse. "Yes, we'll have to stay one step ahead of the Conclave market analytic.. hmm. I've processed the Stones over to my account; I am working for HIEROPHANT immediately. With your leave, Ruse, I'll be off now to ponder over the investments - they will be made by tonight, I feel. Yes. I have an idea."

He emptied the bottle, placed it on his old desk.

"When we're more stable we'll work towards headquarters," he said, smiling. "For now, income. Yes. Meeting complete," he said, smiling, gathering his things from his desk. "I'll be leaving now, High Lord. Business. As usual. Hmm.."

Ruse retreived his high lord seal, and pocketed it.

"Excellent. That is good to hear, especially since lately it's been one bad thing after another for me."
So was the fate of those Zealous gods who had Yggdrasil's blessing.

"If you need to contact me, as a high lord you can leave a message for me on my channel. Also, low Lord Maxilita will be working for us as well. I have gained Wyrn's consent so after the duel she will once again be mine. Consider her our first ground operative. I will have her scouting out the real estate market a bit, since I'd rather you focus exclusively on profit generation for the moment. And remember, the more our investments bring in, the better your corner office will be." Ruse said with a playful grin.

He turned around to leave, and said,

"Oh and I forgot to carry a 1 somewhere, but we should have 2000 stones in the HIEROPHANT budget as a cushion, not 1000. 6000+2000=8000, and 10000-8000 is 2000. I'm sure you caught that already, but I have to save face."

With that, Ruse shifted into mist form and slithered on out of there, like streaming strands of white silk floating through the air.

Ruse decided, since he had a sentry watching the duel, that he should head over to the Tower of Babilu. for multiple purposes.

<To The Divine Valley - Babilu>

"Of course," said Jonathan Marse, waving Ruse off. "I am aware of it. Goodbye, Director Ruse."

Pitcarn re-appears in the Methodes Gate with the troops from his mission. He looks disappointed with the result, and the active paraflamers add nothing to his mood. One shot fired, and mothing more. A tea set destroyed.

That Damn fool Desafon. His selfishness could be the death of all.

Pitcarn looks around for Fiefmaster Jonaht, to report the return of the soldiers. He needs a drink.

Jonaht meets him, bids him sit down, offers him opium-filled steaming tea.

"Drink this," she said. "It'll help. Earthborn narcotic."

She was, once again, entirely naked, and her flaming hair continued to entrance Pitcarn. She moved with grace and was yet filled with power. The Chapel was empty, save for a few independent members of the Conclave using the Gate for their own duties.

"It was a failure, huh?" asked Jonaht.

Dismissing the soldiers with a wave of his hand, Pitcarn takes the drink wearily.

"A Failure, in more ways than one."

Pitcarn allows Jonaht to sit first before seating himself, then allows his heavy bulk to fall onto his seat.

"On one hand, Desafon, or rather the Apotheosis Circle, prevented me from carrying out my mission, while on the other, I had to refuse my nature.
"I gave the Duel God a chance, and from that I had my own opportunity for success removed from me."

Pitcarn takes the drink, and sips, allowing the liquid to slip down his throat, before continuing.

"I suppose I should take this as a lesson to strike first, as is my nature, from now on, eh?"

Pitcarn felt a warm, tingling feeling rise from within his stomach. His muscles relaxed and the pain of failure began to disappear.

"The Conclave has always been an assertive empire," said Jonaht, the fiefmaster. "Striking first and striking the hardest is their favourite method. Anything less would disrespect both their foes and the citizens of the Conclave. Only swift action can guide you true in the alien worlds of Yggdrasil. It is a professional necessity. But tell me - how is the tea? Relaxing?"

"Yes, it is relaxing. Thankyou for your thoughtfulness.

"Speaking of striking hard and swift action, I've just been posted to Tushmuthut. You, fiefmaster, seem to be the person who I need to talk to in order to get there."

Anik headed over to the Hall of The Sun to finally get on with his meeting with Wyrn, though he suspected that the subject might change quite a bit.

Pitcarn

"Ah, yes," said the Fiefmaster. "I'm afraid this will cut our conversation short. You are to take the portal.." She waved a hand to the eastward door. "In that room. The Realm Savage can be tricky, and you have not yet fully composed your theological electrical fieldwork - or whatever the hell it is - so you should speak the name of where it is you need to go before you enter the portal. The name, of course, is, Logthsah. If you wish, I can brief you on the city-state before you leave. Though.. perhaps you are pressed for time?"

Anik

Anik was led below the Hall of the Sun, through the winding, darkened corridors, and finally was beckoned into the private office of Councilman Wyrn. The Councilman wore simple black silk and silver jewelry, and looked up at Anik with a smile.

"Ah," said Wyrn. "It is the Low Lord who has made such a splash. Please, please," he gestured towards a comfortable looking chair. "Sit down. What was it you needed to speak to me before? I must admit I am in a little bit of a hurry, so I would appreciate your candour."

<From valley of towers>

Ruse arrives here, and heads for Laharazed's inner office.

"As you know I will be involved in Valley Defense, and the Conclave is at a critical point in it's continuing history. As I have mentioned to Councleman Roid before. I wish to look into the option of claiming my old tower. This would be of course, in part, a conclave endeavor and any major technological discovers I find will be shared." He wondered what sort of answer he would get... he suspected Wyrn knew more about the towers than anyone else.

"It would cut our conversation short, Feifmaster, if divines were entirely bound by all laws of physics." Pitcarn replied.
"If you'll bear with me one moment, I'll be back and we can continue our conversation, or you can brief me on the realm. Whatever you prefer. Excuse me."

Pitcarn leaves the room, returning to the chapel he had vacated only moments ago. Stepping up to the gate, he calmed his nerves, announced "Logthsah" and stepped through. A moment later, he realised that he had stepped through while still holding the cup that Jonaht had passed to him.

Suddenly struck by inspiration, and more than a little madness, Pitcarn drew one of his vibroblades and checked that his oathblade was in a secure, yet easily accessible position around his neck. Mentally ensuring that his stave was safe, on his person in Bilbligh,  Pitcarn again stepped up to the Methodes Gate, but stepped back. He wouldn't use the gate for this. He composed his thoughts of what he knew of the place, and created a paradox in Tushmuthut without using the gate.

Adrenalin pumping, half afraid of what he'd done, he turned and walked out of the chapel, back to the Feifmaster.

He felt really bad about taking the Feifmaster's cup to the realm savage.

Pitcarn

(Oooh, naughty.)

Pitcarn felt his other presences disappear and enter deadlier, savager places. He returned to the Fiefmaster, who smiled pleasantly at him. She ignored the absence of the wine glass.

"So it is you who is to be waging war against Tushmuthut," she said, finally. "That takes.. some courage."

Anik

Wyrn's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile did not waver. "Ah, of course," he said, slowly. "You consider yourself - and are in turn considered - to be the, however apocryphal the science on the subject might be, the reincarnation of Anik the Creator. The Tower, then, would be rightfully yours. I will be honest with you," he said. "I have accessed my own Tower, of the long-dead League of Wyrn, and it was filled with nothing but death and the unsolvable mysteries of a time long destroyed. Why do you wish access to this Tower? It is, I imagine, a scientific matter?"

Ruse

Ruse is shown through the labyrinth of corridors and twisting halls until he finds himself beckoned within the inner studies of Honored Councilman Lharazed, Sorcerer-King and the greatest Alkanite magician alive. His hair shows shimmers of red on ancient grey, and he ironically sports neither a beard nor a staff. His torso is bare - he is covered with a plethora of black-inked, esoteric tattoos - and his physique is that of a young warrior. Hios pants are the grey of the Inner Circle. The magic keeps him youthful. His eyes are old, star-specked blue. He is poring over a red-bound text on his desk, written in the strangest pictographs, though he looks up as Ruse enters.

"High Lord, yes," he said. "If this is about the Urge.. I fully understand, and you have my sanction and full authorization. You may leave immediately via the Chapel of Methodes, though I fear you will need to stop by Lost Pnakotus in order to gain access to the Wind-Swept Realms. My apologies in advance," he grimaced, "If I seem abrupt, but I do not expect you to live through this mission. It is madness. Fire with fire, eh? Nevertheless, you have been tasked, and.."

He stopped.

"You have been tasked, yes?"

Ruse shakes his head, and replies,

"Well...that is sort of correct, councilor. As you probably know, I am very closely connected as a special operative for Embalmer's Reach, which means part of my official duties are to tackle anything dealing with Osiria-Ra. I think that you and I can help one another though quite a bit, given your connection to all things Alkan. What I'm about to propose to you is highly sensitive, which is why I needed to see you in person."

Ruse then had a momentary fit of coughing, but after about 10 seconds regained composure.

"You see councilor, I am actually a dying man. Even now, my own magic seeks to undo me. I did actually head to Alkan to try and stop the chalybis attack. Unfortunately I was a moment too late and everything had come to pass - Chalybis was killed but the flood was unleashed. However, as I have an appreciation for magic like you do, as well as the tree of life, I tried to use my power to reinforce a mysterious ward that was the only thing holding the urge back entirely. It did work a bit, although in doing so i had to drop my guard and the urge entered into me in a way most profound. I thought I was a goner, but somehow my body adapted enough to survive, and instead I was able to escape Alkan. However, I contracted entropomagical poisoning as a result. It would seem that while the urge spared my life for the moment, that it would not let me go so easily. I made a sacrifice of my own health to buy Alkan some time."

He coughed again, and sighed,

"I have since learned that my poisoning is a form of magical cancer, but it is no ordinary cancer. It is less a true cancer and more like I'm being eaten slowly by spirits of the urge that are inside of me due to my high connection to magic - I'm a Grand Magus after all, so must be making for a fine meal indeed."

He looks at Laharazed whimsically, with a hint of opportunity in the twinkle of his eye.

"But this is where the interesting part comes in. Most individuals who are directly touched by the urge like I am are killed outright - the 100,000 deaths in Alkan should be proof of that. Man, sorcerer, and god alike usually cannot stand up to the urge's touch. However somehow I survived. This means that technically, I have one of the closest connections to the urge out of just about everyone there is. I am aware, due to my job duties, of a certain crown you have recently acquired. I know you wish to ultimately use it against Osiris-Ra, which is where I come into the picture. I know the crown is dangerous, and even someone as learned as yourself is risking much by using such a thing. I do not want you to die, councilor, so instead I volunteer myself to use the crown instead. It would be a sad day if you were to die - you are one of the more upright councilmen and your death would be a terrible loss to us all."

Ruse smiled, and added,

"You see, with me using the crown, not only would you not be at risk of death, but with my connection to the urge there is an increased chance of our success. If I fail, then I will die and you will still have the crown. If I succeed, I may be able to save Alkan while also assisting you against Osiris-Ra. Either way, you will survive as the risk will be on my head - literally."

"Feifmaster, you're too kind. The situation seems to be more complicated than to allow for simple courage. I will be attacking the strongest fastness of one of the Conclave's greatest foes, yes, but I will not do it alone, for I will have 200,000 men at my back, and another 200,000 fighting by my side.
"Yes, I face one of the deadliest generals of Osiris Ra; Sura of Desolace who almost destroyed the Hall of the Sun in an unprovoked attack, but he also showed his weakness as a coward first. Without declaration of hostilities, he placed his own life above the importance of his mission. I believe that should he be seriously threatened, he will chose to flee and allow Tushmuthut to fall instead of fighting to the death to protect his Lord and the city under his charge."

"Well I know for certain that a surplus of rare raw materials in my last life, a vision I had some time ago. And yes, accessing the tower would be in attempt to recover any lost technology. I would willing go with, and in fact prefer for my own protection, an accompanying detail from the conclave. Perhaps another High Lord you deem trustworthy and a Silver Shambler." Anik emphasize the trustworthy part. "As I suspect some things found would be better left in the past. This is a new age, and a new life for myself, and I don't intend to dig up old bones. But if you knew me... security would be one of my top priorities... and so some protection might be needed." Anik didn't trust Wyrn completely... but hoped the offer would gain his trust. Truth be told, Anik needed political allies if he was going to survive the tides of politics.

Pitcarn

"I see," said Jonaht. "And you are wise, to know the nature of monsters such as Sura. Are you sure that you can face him? He is known for his cruelty, his violence, the potency of his curses and his fates. He is a deeply cunning figure, General. Tread lightly. A coward follows no rules in combat, as you and I know."

Anik

"I see," said Wyrn. "Of course, if I allow you to access your Tower, it would have to be secret. Off the books. I can guarantee a lesser patrol about your Tower, and protect you against persecution, but until any amendments have been made.. hmmm. It is an interesting case. Provided you share anything you find with the Conclave," he said, "And, while I trust you, I will need your Oath on that - you can access it freely."

Ruse

"Of course, of course," said Lharazed. "I know of your knowledge in regards to the Crown, and I understand your predicament. My own theories regarding the subject of your entropomagical poisoning differ, however. I believe that you were poisoned and not killed because by the time you arrived in Alkan the Flood was already leveling, neutralizing to a point, while those caught in the Fort Seal tragedy had it crash upon them. I do not believe that it was originally a matter of choice on the Urge's part.. and yet, strangely enough.."

He lit a wooden pipe, smoked thoughtfully.

"I am the Sorcerer-King of Yggdrasil," said Lharazed. "Regardless of my politics, my machinations, my Oath and my allegiance to the Empire of the Conclave.. there is one object of my loyalties which will never waver and which will come first always. Magic itself. Yes, I have spoken to the Urge, and you have been mentioned.. despite being relatively neutral towards you in the beginning I believe that it has began to enjoy you. Regardless, it has spoken to me of your task, which I only now realize you have not been informed about. It will be .. dangerous. But the Urge believes that, against all odds, you alone," he smiled, "A God who has slipped the Oath of the Conclave utterly, who harbors illegal powers, who peddles in lies and disinformation can assist it in reclaiming the former glory once associated with the Urge."

He puffed thoughtfully.

"In return for this single service it offers two things. First is a complete cure for your malediction, and the ability to cure similar conditions in others. Second is .. it will allow you to walk the inner sanctum of Alkan. What that possibly means I cannot know, but it is an invitation only I have received. I can tell you the details of the mission now, or otherwise.. you have full permission to wear the Crown and find out yourself."

This was a dangerous game Ruse was playing - the urge probably tipped Laharazed off about the truth behind his capabilities. Yet, the man before him seem to take that knowledge with a grain of salt. Almost jovially - like a friendly old man inviting a youngster to sit and play a game of chess, or perhaps talk about the good old days. Really, truth be told, Ruse had a very odd relationship with the councilors indeed. Heck, at least 3 now know about his manipulation of the conclave, and yet decided to work with him rather than against him. Perhaps he was just simply that amusing to them. Yggdrasil knows at least Wyrn would think as much.

Ruse grinned, and without affirming or denying anything, simply replied,

"Ah, I would expect no less from the sorcerer king of the Alkanites. You are, my good sir, very well informed. Well-informed indeed."

His eyes twinkled whimsically as he continued,

"And of course the Urge would like me. I mean, come on now it's lately been getting a really good taste of me, if you catch my drift. Even now, it's giving me love-nibbles."

Almost as if on cue, but actually due to a magical cancer, Ruse coughed a bit and, after a good wheeze, regained composure.

"As a dying man, one must have a sense of humor in cases like this, lest you fall into despair. But as you can see, it is savoring me slowly. I must be succulent after all."

He grinned again, but became more serious.

"I hear what you're saying about the urge. I am basing my own theories about having a connection to it from the very fact that I've heard it speak to me before, above and beyond the fact that when I use my magic it becomes worse. Of course, it's only ever told me how much it wishes to eat me, but hey communication has got to start somewhere. Either way, as you say it is a most peculiar situation I find myself in. But if the Urge is willing to extend benefits to me, I am willing to reciprocate. Also, since I believe it is in both of our interests if I can build a stronger rapport with it as soon as possible, I will take you up on your invitation to put the crown on and speak to it directly."

"Will I need a Callisti or would on the Oathblade suffice?" Anik said, happy that they could come to an arrangement.

Pitcarn sighed.

"Sadly, Fiefmaster, you speak truely. His magic is something that I fear greatly; I have no knowledge of it myself. I have a plan in place that may mean that he is distracted from the main thrust. I intend for Sura to have to deal with an additional threat, one made directly to his person that will distract him from the combined attack by the legions."

Pitcarn

"Oh?" asked Jonaht, curious. "And what would that employ? Understand that I am simply curious; if you cannot tell me, do not feel bad. I am sure it will be common knowledge soon."

Anik


"Neither. You have already sworn on the Callisti, yes? Simply swear by the Callisti, and on the Conclave, that you will not renegade on our agreement," said Wyrn. "That will be enough."

Ruse

"Well-informed indeed," said Lharazed, smoking his pipe mysteriously. "Well, I thank you for your visit, High Lord, and I wish you the best of luck in your sacred mission. My prayers will be with you. But as I am very busy, and you have a Crown to wear.. I will see you again, later, perhaps," he said. "Goodbye, High Lord, and good luck."

Ruse grinned, and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

He turned to leave, but stopped and asked one more thing.

"Oh...um, by the way...where exactly is the crown located? You mentioned using the methodes gate to go somewhere, but the places you described are unfamiliar to me. Or do you have the crown here and the mission itself involves using the chapel?"

"The plan is still in its infancy. I would not wish to damage it, or make any guarantees, before I can be sure that there will be at least some point to it. I may have spoken too soon, in any case."

"I swear by the Callisti to share my findings with the conclave." Anik swore. "Thank your Wyrn, I shall go prepare for the journey, and leave you to your business." Anik bowed, gave his farewell and then left the office, and the hall of the sun entirely. He headed over to the market place.

Pitcarn

"My apologies," said the Fiefmaster. "How are you finding Fort Sah? It is pleasant, there, I find."

Anik

"Very well. Good day, High Lord," said Wyrn, going back to his own business.

Ruse

"It is currently held in the deepest vaults of the Babilu," said Lharazed. "Go to it now. When you find a Babilu official of sufficient rank, tell them I sent you, and if that does not work, speak the pass-code: Dezrahla. They will obey you."

Ruse gave him a curtsey, and replied,

"Ah, I see. I will get to it then. Thank you very much, councilor..."

His face lit up figuratively as he almost forgot something, and added,

"By the way councilor, I wanted to take this opportunity to ask if you would please pledge your political support for a new operation I am directing. Operation HIEROPHANT. I believe that the conclave has made an error in maintaining its current policy towards psychics - it is the result of an outdated and biased system that did not fully understand the phenomena. It's like saying that since mad gods are also adept at sorcery, that magic is somehow the tool of the old ones, which you and I both know is false as the urge - and thus magic itself - was birthed by the tree of life. But as for HIEROPHANT, it would be the psionic equivalent to Babilu for magic and Drachenorden for combat skill. We would have conclave-allied psychics as an elite arm of the conclave, just like Babilu's mages are prodigies and Drachenorden's warriors are fearsome on the field of battle. Incidentially, it would also be the strongest asset we have to fight against mad forces and cultists, but just as Babilu occasionally reinforces normal troops and missions, HIEROPHANT would too."

"As for the credibility of this operation, we are currently in our first project phase and raising funds. I acquired a highly talented high lord to be a finance manager - we already have a small but renewable budget and are currently working on increasing the operation's investment portfolio to make it self-sustaining. Already, two councilmen support it (Roid and Wyrn) and a high lord from Babilu thinks it is a good idea (although I need to meet with Crowley still to get its official support).

"Any councilors who pledge support will - I guarantee - get access to at least 1 actual HIEROPHANT psychic per year to be used in their operations or however they'd like REGARDLESS of anything else. In actuality, I pledge 1/5 of my personnel across all categories besides high lord to the conclave directly, to be shared among all councilmen who pledge to the operation. The math projects this to be about 29 or 30 people that will be devoted full-time to councilmen. Each councilor who pledges is guaranteed at least 1 psychic, and there will be a competitve process where councilors can jocky for more positions by essentially "bidding" on them, and favors and concessions are viable barter at the application phase, not just conclave stones."

"I believe that this operation would be a huge boon to one such as yourself, especially if we get psychics working together in teams with Babilu."

"Nothing to apologise for, Fiefmaster. Yours is a military mind, I would be surprised if you didn't ask. Your interest is also appreciated.

"Fort Sah, what little I have seen so far, has captivated me. I feel more alive there; it is as if Perigo, my initial talks with Highlord Ruse, the plotting and scheming that is Conclave politics, has just been washed away. Even in the assault on Tushmuthut, I may not leave the Realm Savage, and simply maintain my presence there while the attack progresses."

Pitcarn

"Ah, yes," smiled Jonaht. It was obvious this answer pleased her immensely. "I worked as a Priest of Methodes for much of my career, adn the place has a hauntingly beautiful feel to it. And the Realm Savage never grows boring, or overly complicated.. everything is as slow as you need it to be and as fast as you'd like it. I was born in the ruins of Sah, you see, and.." She smiled. "It is my Fief. I am, however, not in charge of the Fort - not at all."

She glanced at Pitcarn and there was wonder in her eyes.

"And yet.. it is a deadly place. Do not allow your guard to fall, Pitcarn. The fiend-squids of the undersea would be the least of your worries, in that deadly place." She examined him. "Would you care for another wine?"

Ruse

"I..." Lharazed's face fell, and he grimaced. "Forgive me, High Lord, but I can only assume that you are ignorant as to my role in Conclave legislation. I, along with several others - none of which are still Councilmen, mind - created the laws that made psychic use illegal." He tried to sum up a smile; Ruse saw that he obviously felt some guilt at his own past. "It was a mistake, I will admit, but I cannot abolish the law - it would be an act of weakness that could destroy me," he sighed.

"That is not to say I won't pledge support. I support your endeavors - I have woken up since then, let me tell you," he said. "But.. firstly, you would have to overturn my misinformed, bigoted little law. But I do not suggest that you even think about that, or about Operation HIEROPHANT, until you go to Babilu and seek out the Crown of the Forge."

Lharazed smiled sadly.

"You might find that what you see of the Urge might change your plans entirely, High Lord," he said.

Ruse merely looked on unemotionally, although inside he was disappointed but as expected, he controlled his reaction with the poker face of a true expert liar. He wasn't expecting a Sorcerer - whose powers were themselves also associated with the mad gods - would be the one to help make such a law. Yet, on the plus side the man did support Ruse's endeavor in the present, despite what the man did in the past.

Basically, he was still a definite potential supporter of the operation, but Ruse would have to work on it a bit more. He would go hear the urge out first though.

"Well councilor, that is most interesting indeed. I would like to say that creating this operation would be, in a sense, a form of overturning the law. Psychics would have to register with us, but potent magic users already do that with Babilu with no other discrimination or repercussion. It is a move in the right direction, and politically since Wyrn supports it, it also nominally had the emperor's support too - which would make any councilman's support legitimate and hardly weak."

Ruse gave a curtsy, and added,

"But as you wish, I'll not proposition you again until after hearing out the urge. I do kindly ask that until then, you at least "chew the fat" on the matter. Even if you originally made the law, after all you do have a valid excuse of there not being a set system in place like HIEROPHANT would be, which would at least partially justify a guarded approach to psionics. I guess what I mean is there are ways around looking weak - but again, just stew on it for now. I do thank you for hearing me out, councilor, and I do hope we can talk again about both psionics and magic in the future. I am off to Babilu - wish me luck."

Ruse ended with a bow of his head, and departed in a stream of mist.

Ruse headed to the meeting area where Pitcarn supposedly was waiting.