[OOC - It'll take a day for you to get there, so camping out and having a night to talk before you really get there is perfectly reasonable.

Also, I was absurdly busy today.]

That night, as you rest and learn a bit more about each other, things go relatively quietly during the evening.

Once the sun goes down, and the cold descends on the desert with shocking speed. The horses huddle together for warmth, and those not immune to cold feel a chill to the bone. The desert is quite cold at night at this time of year.

The wind is an occasional annoyance, but your camping position at a rock outcropping gives you some shielding, particularly with your tents and jackets recommended by the Sarnai and the guides. At least the air is dry, making the cold temperatures at least somewhat tolerable. High above you, the stars shine brightly since you are away from the city. It also makes it possible to start a fire, though there isn't much vegetation out here.

Sarnai seems happy to be away from civilization. She's gotten a bit more confident over the past few weeks around the rest of the pantheon, and was far less broken than most of the other slaves that joined up with them. Though it's clear Plaga still scares her. "It's good to be out in the wild again."

[Anyone want to do anything during the night, let me know, otherwise I'll start posting the cave tomorrow. Also, feel free to start a soft RP segment in another thread or through PM's if you want to have any conversations with a particular NPC/PC.

I believe Sarnai is the only NPC with you, though you can say you brought pretty much anyone NPC you want]

Increase considers the possibilities and relents.

"I must rest."

With that Increases sets to establishing the camp for the night. He doesn't require much and is honestly impressed with how comfortable the tents and ground are. All the same when the sound of the winds began to irritate he casually exerted his zenith will and erected a barrier of stone to obscure the path of the wind blowing through their camp.

  "Yes," Gaja concurs gently.  "You must.  But only because you never dance with me."

  With a stomp, she breaks a crack in the rock she'd perched on, and water begins to pour out.  In seconds, a pool forms.  In minutes, plants begin to grow that should take months.  By the time Increase finishes breaking camp, he's doing it in an established oasis, with ferns and reeds and a twenty-foot mangrove for shade.  Gaja takes it all in with a look of vague disapproval, but says nothing.

  The fire doesn't take much, after all: when Gaja goes off to retrieve Szkarik, they return with him clutching some scraggly evergreen or another in his claws.  It burns well, like incense.  "Claire, can I ask a nagging question?" she asks later that night, once the sun has set and the fire has had a chance to become the focal point of the evening.  "Why are you trying to put those people someplace new?  Why not just let them live alla Sabbia?  There are so many people there, who would notice a few more?"

---

Miracles: I have 4 effort free, and we're in a desert.  Who's even counting?

"I hadn't really thought about why," began Claire as she turned to answer Gaja. "But I think I have a little responsibility for the people I've freed, even with Radiance gone. What good is freeing them if I would just dump them into poverty? Perhaps to face slavery again, if the choice is between that and starving. I'm not going to force them to stay together, but I feel that I should at least give them a chance to build a community, and to hear the word of the Unitary Church to protect their souls."

She smiled at Gaja. "It probably sounds foolish, but if I had the strength, no one in Arcem would starve, or be a slave, or have to fear bandits reaving their village. But I think I have enough strength to give these people a new start, with a little help." She laughed a bit. "Or maybe I just want to be better than...those people who created me." She touched the Bright Records logo on her forehead.

Claire looked around, admiring the oasis Gaja had made. "Nice."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:59, Fri 08 Feb 2019.

Increase lays down and rests his eyes but addresses Claire.

"Giving the freed slaves a chance to improve themselves is well and good but the Unitary Church cannot save their souls. It can only stay the maw of Hell."

Increases words were dire and laden with a sense of knowing. As he neared the end of his sentence his mind was assaulted by flashing images and pain.

  "It's naive," Gaja agrees.  "But it's charming.  And like you said back at the inn at the docks, you have ways to feed them, and they are already less like slaves than they were.  I have some ideas about the bandits, but I will need to take the measure of the nearby tribes first.  It's a sweet dream you're chasing."

  A gusty breeze sends sand grains skittering over the rocks and blows the fire away from where Gaja sits.  She pulls her knees up into a hug, but not in a huddling way that might suggest she notices the cold.  She rocks herself idly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  "And how about you, Mister Scholar?  What dream are you chasing?  What makes you care what you do with all your new wisdoms?"

Increase remained laying down and was silent for a long moment. When he did speak his voice was devoid of inflection and filled with a restrained bitterness, a cold hatred.

"I will reclaim the lost technologies and powers of the Former Empires and bring them to bare against the church of True Reason. I will kill all of the antipriest and destroy the Pyre. Then I will rebuild the celestial engines of Arcem by pillaging Hell itself."

"Ah, a man with achievable goals and a realistic set of expectations, this I can appreciate!"

Vasati said, clapping his hands together excitedly.  It was impossible to tell if he was joking or not by the tone of his resonate voice, and while his eyes were filled with mirth, that was typically the case.

"Unlikely allies at first, and yet I am sensing a theme.  Each of you wishes to tear down what is, and start anew.  Well, perhaps not Signora Plaga here."

He chuckled, scratching at his beard.

"But how do these mysterious Bits play into all of that for each of you, I wonder?"

As they settled in, Vasati's face became serious.

"Well then, let me tell you all a tale for the ages, the story of the Cave of Cannān.  It's a simple enough tale, with no satisfying ending, but perhaps there is a moral that we can apply to our own endeavors, no?"

It was a nonsense name, and not one that any of them had ever heard before.  It sounded like something that he had made up on the spot.  He began to weave a fantastical tale of of merchant prince of thieves attempting to plunder the secrets of a long forgotten cave.  At first the tale sounded like many that he had told on the journey over, but it rapidly became clear that it was different in many strange and noticeable ways.  The most obvious with these was the rather focused detail in which he explained the defenses of the cave that the thief had needed to overcome in order to triumph.  What was noticeable was his complete lack of theatrics or embellishment as he spoke, and it sounded more like he was laying out the details of a heist than telling an ancient myth.  This feeling was only made stronger when Vasati completely skipped over how the thief had overcome each challenge, speaking only of its existence, and possible solutions the hero might have attempted.

Quickly, the pantheon learned that a moderate sized group of mercenaries bearing weapons and equipment of the Bright Republic sat astride a variety of mounts outside the mouth.  Mercenaries whose primary purpose was to detect any and all who might approach the cave unseen.  The prince of thieves would have had to sneak by them, or incapacitate them all instantly, in order to avoid triggering the alarm.

They learned that the front entrance of the "Cave of Cannān" was similarly protected by a large amount of Bright Republic technology, as well as an enchantment of alarm.  The thief hadn't been particularly worried by the strange technology, but the alarm spell had caused him considerable consternation.  He could have overcome it, but he would have had to expend all of his power to do so.

Once inside, stealth would have been next to impossible.  The tight quarters of the cave, combined with the large numbers of thaumaturgical instruments, experiments, and slaves, would make any stealthy approach doomed to failure.  In addition, there were a large number of low magic practitioners, and even higher level theurges within the cave.  There were also several automatons, a word Vasati assured everyone he'd just learned, as well as an extremely powerful eldritch mage who personally bore the nameless treasure of the Cave of Cannān.  ALl of it, of course, protected by an anti-scrying work of theurgy of considerable power.

How the prince of theives had pierced this theurgic ward, Vasati had not said.

"Of course, what the Prince had not known was that there was a back door.  Sure, it would have taken two days of flying to get there, and another two days crawl through a sandy river bottom, but it could have been done.  Had he been willing to invest the time and his clothes, he could have skipped the guards in front entirely.  Oh well, live and learn, no?  Not like it would have helped him with any of the mages or automotons inside though, eh?  Let alone the slaves and experiments that could have been unleashed."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:10, Sun 10 Feb 2019.

[OOC - Ok.... so then, you are camping within sight of the cave then, since that is the only way this conversation makes sense? Vasati, that is a really cool post, but if you missed what I said in the other thread, you can take that back, or just go with it if you prefer.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:09, Sun 10 Feb 2019.

Claire smiled slightly at Gaja's words, then turned to Increase. "Well, saving souls from Hell is worthy in itself," she said. "I'm leaving the long term to the Creator for now, if and when He returns."

Claire turned her head to Vasati. "Tell me more of these automata, please. Did they look like Vissian theotech, Nezhdovan autocossacks, or something else?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:13, Mon 11 Feb 2019.

"I may be the opposite of you, in the sense that I wish to tear what is new and reinstore the old order. I was wronged, murdered and humilliated. And I wish to recover that which was lost... with interests".

Plaga listens carefully to Vasati's story.

"The thief might be tired after dealing with the defenses, but I'm sure that his allies were more than capable that covering his back, no?"

Increase listened to the story but never moved to look at Vasati or turn to face the ground. In his mind he was intent on falling asleep at any moment but the more he listened the more his interest was piqued. This "Cave of Cannān" was a near treasure trove of secrets and power; two of Increase's favorite things.

It was odd tho, as if the story was more than simple fable. All the same the cave sounded impenetrable and the "back entrance" seemed all too convenient.

"The back entrance is a trap. No one invests that much effort and resources into protecting a place to leave such a gross oversight. If nothing else it was likely enchanted to alert the guardians of the Cave."

Vasati shrugged at Increase Scholar.

"If the back entrance had been trapped or guarded, the story would tell you so.  It doesn't, so it isn't.  What's the point of having a back way if it's just as well defended as the front?  That makes for a boring and predictable tale."

To Claire, he showed his empty hands apologetically.

"The legends say that the automaton were used for heavy lifting, but that they could likely be re-purposed to do some damage pretty easily.  It did not say where they were from. It also spoke of some stranger personal experiments that could be similarly redeployed.  These sorts of stories are often lacking in details in some regards, and extremely precise on others.  It is the nature of the story to be thus."

He nodded at Plaga, touching his nose knowingly.

"A thief would not be of much use after he deactivated the alarm, but he would likely have been happy to let his friends shoulder the burdens from then on.  He would already be tired from all this planning.  That is of course assuming that the guards the story claims stand outside the cave are defeated discreetly, before they are able to activate all their little toys of detection and destruction."

Increase countered almost immediately.

"Is this tale or prophecy Vasati?"

His words were neutral lacking accusation but he was curious as to how this tale aligned with their own objectives. Details too exacting to be exclusively myth but too unusual to be completely factual.

"Oh, it's a tale alright. I think I heard of it. One of the thief allies was a commander. When she gave the word, an army composed of all those that failed to find the riches of the cave awoke, and followed her commands. Rumor says her forces alone were enough to dispatch the entirety of the guards at the front entrance, if the thief and his friends took that path."

Not as versed in the world of lies as Vasati, Plaga's mocking tone couldn't be completely hidden.

  "The finery is a fable.  A metaphor.  The prince sacrifices his honor for greed."  Apparently Gaja decided to get in on the riddle game.  "Or maybe for the glory of the raid, but that's not what I expect from a merchant."

  She smirks at Vasati, then sits up a little straighter.  "We are far enough from the Vissians now, I think.  I can stop speaking in riddles.  My own prince of thieves has some treasure or another, and I have his gratitude for telling the right kind of lies.  And while I was lying, I learned that these Bits have been found and then lost again; it has one of alla Sabbia's chief houses in a panic, and at least one other worried that the fear may be justified.  With the relic itself, I decide how frightened they should be.  Plus, as you see all around you, these are mandala lands, and only a fool brings foreign magic here.  If it's as dangerous as the Vissians seem to think, it will be in hands I trust."  Her eyes catch the firelight particularly well when she leans in for emphasis.  "As soon as they brought it here, it became tribute.  And now they hide underground, in the dwelling place of the ukthee-rasa, who come at my call."

  Gaja leers, then abruptly shifts to lying on her back with a spin that puts her head near the fire.  Near enough she could probably reach up and touch it, and the shadows make her face look like a theater mask at this angle.  "We can be subtle.  I can help with subtle.  But if they challenge my authority, I will give them back to the land."

Vasati smiled at the Scholar and tapped his heart.

"A parable.  One whose lessons we can learn much from."

He tapped his head.

"Or maybe the Signora Gaja just brings the whole story down on everyone's heads, and Signora Plaga's failures pick through the wreckage to see if any of it was true."

He sounded grim at that.

"But you say you trust the one who holds it?  If we draw from the legend, they are a powerful theurge.  Not to be taken lightly."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:21, Mon 11 Feb 2019.

  "No."  The word rolls out slowly, and she savors its feel.  "But it will soon be in mine."

"Ah, there we are."

He clapped his hands together.

"So it appears you all choose the story in which the prince and his allies fight then?  Storm the mercenaries and hope to take them unaware, and defeat them before they can sound the alarm?"

He shrugged.

"A risky tale, but it might reach the end."

  Gaja looks up, from her perspective.  In this case, it means through the fire at Vasati.  "Rajachura, you ride with a chief!"  She laughs breezily.  "And at dawn, we meet thieves and trespassers, and maybe give them one chance to become also traitors.  What do we think of this?  I told you what I think."

  She rolls back over, pulls her legs up under her, and rises to her knees.  She's getting restless.  She was like that on the boat, too—never entirely stopped moving for long.  "I will have their toy and the story of how they got it.  If they want to help me write it into a poem and leave empty-handed, I don't see why I'd stop them.  Unless...  Does one of you have Vendetta?"

"I do, but until I receive word from Lasier, I will not know exactly whom I am targeting," said Claire. "Aside from that, and the questions I want to ask my creators, no."

"I doubt any of these men have a connection to me. However, I've been surprised enough times by now to not rule anything out. If they are indeed unrelated to my past, I couldn't care less of what we do with them."

Vasati leaned back, reaching for his ever present bag of tobacco.

"Likely as not going to be a red dawn then, or perhaps an hour before?"

He yawned, lighting up even as he settled down.

"Looking forward to it."