Eschton [mature] IC - Calling Arabesu

A new era dawns in the trinary Ixylyr-Alaeon-Otajan star system.

The Eschaton is timeless. Most of the entities living within the trillions of worlds comprising it on countless dimensions experience the forward progression of events. Yet all possible futures and 'possible pasts' are known to those who have Ascended. Citizens and many Autarchs can arrange to travel in the vastness of time itself. Many diverse futures spring from the present. But it is known for a fact that great changes are coming, that the coming days shall be a time of fruition, and great turmoil.

In recent years, more than half of the planets in the great star system have come under the control of new Citizens. Yet more have just, or are about to complete, the process of terraforming. And on the fifth planet orbiting Otajan, a planet thought unsuitable for terra-reformation, something remarkable has occurred. Another Otajan 5 from a different dimension has been shifted by some titanic magic to replace the dead world.

The Eschaton-wide psionic network known as the Psi-web allows Citizens, and all Autarchs that have not been blocked from it, to mindlink with practically anyone effortlessly. Through this world-spanning power, beings of various descriptions have queued up to contact each of you ...


OOC - Individual intro stuff to come soon, but feel free to set the local scene

It was always dark in the depths, heavy veils of fog drifting in the crushing pressure of a too-vast heaven, but this new universe, this new sun still felt different. Different heat, different gravity, and most of all (though all differences were slight) a different radiation was causing some discomfort for the more sensitive inhabitants of what had once been, and now is again Otajan 5. "Some discomfort" had not long ago been utter panic and anarchy for those volatile races. The Gshaa were always so prone to dramatics... Melanoce sighed, or would have sighed if she was a human, actually she only twitched her dorsal fin slightly while moving her tongue just so, but the meaning was the same. Politics were such a tedious distraction from what really mattered.

Her business had suffered lately, from the disorder at home as well as certain changes abroad, and it was no longer wise to speculate in the papers of the Core Worlds. She posessed other ways to make a profit, certainly, but speculation in the business of others was so much more comfortable than conducting business yourself. Politics again... Politicians and burocrats, such scum. And now she had become one herself. Ah, well, she fidgeted while berating herself for her self-pity, there's nothing to be done about that now. And there are still opportunities to be exploited if only certain complications could be dealt with.

She knew little enough about her new immediate neigbours, and that was a weakness for which she could only blame herself, but it was time to rectify that now. Their ambitions, political, social, financial and especially military, would directly affect her own security and could be useful levers if harnessed correctly. Surely there were mutual interests to protect, codependencies to construst and complimentary weaknesses and strengths to synergize. She ponders briefly, then acts.

[sblock=DM]ooc:

Melanoce uses her skills (trough her computer network and the EWW (eschaton wide web) as well as any local PC networks she believes she can penetrate without risk of discovery) to attempt to learn about her new neigbours, both in the past and present, both strengths and weaknesses and the economical states of their worlds.

Computer Use (Int):..............56 (24+9+0+2+20+0+3savant)
Gather Information (Cha):......17 (0+7+0+2+0+8reputation bonus)
Kn: (civics):........................35 (24+9+0+2+0+0)
Kn: (current events):............21 (10+9+0+2+0+0)
Kn: (streetwise):.................35 (24+9+0+2+0+0)
Kn: (business):....................35 (24+9+0+2+0+0)
Profession (Tradecraft) (wis):.72 (24+2+0+3+10+30+0+3savant)
Research (Int):....................33 (24+9+0+0+0+0)
[/sblock]

There were no mild terms that could be applied to the Palace of Summer. Long before it had held that name, it had been designed so that only superlatives came to mind on seeing it. It was the -most- beautiful, the -most- awesome, the most intimidating, the tallest, the proudest... Legends ancient when most races were young told that a great sky-climbing tree had been planted in the palace's foundation...and that as the tree grew, the palace was built in it, and around it, and through it. The work of centuries. And this was certainly how it seemed to have been done, for the tree's mighty branches supported wings and annexes. Struts and buttresses of gilded marble held questing tendrils of wood aloft. Windows peeked out of burls and knots. And above it all rose the great Spire, the tower that the tree itself spiraled up around like an unspeakably vast tentacle of ivy. Made of radiant lathenum, a semi-translucent stone that sparkled with multicolored highlights, and each block of stone in an orichalcum molding, on a clear bright day the Spire could be seen for miles, with only the rolling horizon finally blotting it from sight.

On the tip of the Spire, as far above the ground as the ocean floor was below, there was a sitting room, with a balcony. And on the balcony was a solitary figure; the only one routinely allowed to go so high. She had many titles. She was The Sigil, The Queen of Summer, Queen-Protector of Kaydia, most commonly. Once she had been human, and mortal. Now she was neither, and her mortal name was forgotten even to her. On rising to Citizenship, she had learned much...not only of the world she had inherited, Kaydia...but of the countless worlds beyond. The truth seared her now as it always had. Beautiful Kaydia, proud Kaydia...the world she loved with all of her heart, and had sacrificed so much to make free...was a pinpoint; a tiny dot in the sky. So long closed off from other worlds that it had been all but forgotten by all but the most conscientious of mappers. And more, it was fearfully backwards...living in an age of superstition and ignorance that most worlds had shed millenia ago. Only in the field of magic was it even close to par, and even that had suffered with no trade, no flow and exchange of ideas.

The Sigil was spending this rare moment bereft of glamour, shorn of the magic she used to assume queenly regalia. The fey spirits she had inherited mastery over were chaotic beings, subject to their whims. Asserting rulership meant regular displays of power and grandeur. For all their immortality, the fey were at their hearts childlike and easily impressed. They loved spectacle, and as Queen, she was obliged to provide it whenever she appeared in public. She didn't mind. It was fun...if a bit hollow at times.

The years had changed her, as had her embrace of that which was fey within her. A blue-green tinge marked her flawless skin, and her eyes had assumed a hue like that of expertly cut emeralds; a green more intense than any human eye could achieve. Her ears came to graceful points, though they did not stick out, and were not of ridiculous length, as was the case with many fey. She was clad in a simple silk gown of midnight blue that clung to her shape without being shamelessly revealing. She was, of course, quite beautiful, if a bit alien, and distant of demeanor though that was a conceit she reserved for these quiet moments alone...alone with her thoughts.

Sigil realized that the paranoid former Queen of Winter had struck Kaydia a blow that went far beyond centuries of oppression and rule by fear. Uninterested in competing with other worlds at first...and later succuming to abject fear that those other worlds would one day invade, the Solstice, the Bitter Queen had seen to it that all her formidable power was bent to isolating Kaydia.

Was it too late now to undo the damage?

Serraphina thinking
Serraphina talking
Jenner speaking


Her eyes snapped open abruptly.

God how I hated having to be reintergrated. How much of myself lost to the winds of the cosmos this time. I know who I am...that was something at least. But there was denfinitely something missing - and what had I been doing on the Markotian homeworld? They were such a twitchy species - but who was I then? What vast tracks of experience have I lost?

Serraphina DeLecort slowly sat up in the recon chamber, the familiar sites around her bringing a flood of welcomed memories. Without a thought she reached behind her ear, activating her sub-com. "Jenner set out the red, we're going out tonight. It seems like it's been weeks since I've been back on the town." - "Of course miss, and it has been." Standing up from the tub, she strides from the antichamber once again completely confident in her purpose and form. Jenner's mearest touch would have ignited lesser materials, as a being of fire, but serraphina's taste was quite pragmatic. The fearsomeness of her presence reaserting itself on the universe, she dressed in her understated finery while Jenner updates her on the looming trouble at the edges of the galaxy. "...Yes we'll have to save the universe again, but not tonight as far as I can tell. you old djinn you." Walking out of the suite, the barest edges of a smile touch her lips at the thought of a new adventure. "But it could have something to do with the recent ... unpleasantness miss." - Of course! If you even hiccup loudly the Markot jump three feet. Something cosmic could be pushing them right over the edge ... they'll of course owe me for their assumption.

The Illuminated metropolis of Tarnha beamed like a jewel in the crown of Tran'sa 'Kuul, planet of night. With the sun only showing on it every fourth day, Tran'sa 'Kuul was never a center of agrarian development. But the mines flow and the clubs know no end. The people are strong and fierce and beautiful, with a hunger for the light. It's transparasteel high-rises of downtown, like uniformed spears of brilliant stars stabbing into the heavens. The roads were happily full of eager party-seekers, and it was serraday night. The scene would be mobbed, but thats the way she likes it.

Stepping from the transport in her maroon leather chained pants, she was met by a cheers and applause. Her people adored her and thats what she liked most about them. The pulse of the music drew her into the establishment with promises of adreniline and sweat - just what she needed after dying yesterday. The bouncers, standing nearly a foot taller than her, eyed her laciviously as she strode past them. Her horns shining in the multi-hololights as she wound her way through the insane asylum of writhing bodies, with smile widening to show her fangs.

[sblock=Nephtys]What Melanoce learns of the historical political and trade situation could fill volumes. I'll provide all the highlights I can. But beyond that feel free to ask for specifics in any area as needed. If you haven't already, go ahead and read Shayuri's character, Sigil as well as Lord Direspirit and Serraphina DeLacorte. Melanoce doesn't know the exact numbers but, for example, knows that Sigil is supernatually agile and tough compared an unaltered Borogashi but of average strength for one. She can fly, disrupt magic at a touch, change the form of other creatures all at will. You have some general feel for what skills she has and know that she is a bluffer of legendary ability, though skill in that arena still pales before yours. She has various enchanted items that enhance her physical defenses to slightly better than your warrior robots as well as protect her from scrying, allow her to move object with her mind and, most significantly, a mirror that lets her scry upon any unwarded being in the multiverse.

Kaydia has historically engaged in very little trade, although the former queen did sell some of her fey subjects as slaves in return for certain rare and obscure alchemical materials (you can't at this time deduce exactly what they were for). The slave trade stopped abruptly when Sigil took power, but pressure to resume is being put on some of the middlemen by the off-dimensional buyers. Sigil does seem interested in opening up trade along more ethical lines. But, other than the fey themselves, the planet doesn't appear to have much of value. But you could probably pay back your 'karmic debt' and come out ahead if you helped to improve the standard of living for the Autarchs there.

Direspirit's world has also had limited trade. However it does have a valuable commodity in the form of faerzress-infused ore. The native drow seem to be distinctly uninterested in selling it however. Direspirit would probably be capable of getting it anyway if properly motivated. You have contacts that could get you the Codex Mortuus, an artifact that allows necromancers to summon and control a number of greater undead not otherwise available. From what you know of Direspirit, such an item would be the perfect motivator.

Serraphina's world has ongoing trade contracts in thousands of commodities but specializes in entertainment branding and financial services. The corporations there have set up a teleport network to take maximum advantage of the world's single Gate. But it is those corporations rather than Serraphina herself that control those networks, while she controls the gate. You notice quite a few inefficiencies in the worlds business practices, many due to cronyism. Her CuB currency seems to be at least in part supported by a number of non-local interests that are going to great lengths to conceal themselves.

Eschaton's Committee on Corporate Power and a number of similar committees have started investigations into the corporations on Serraphina's world as well as some of your own holdings. There are quite a few Autarchs throughout Eschaton society that are very keen on limiting the role of corporations in interplanetary trade. As it stands, multi-world corporations are treated as limited duration contracts to engage in a particular business, rather than legal entities in their own right.

There are 36 planets total in the Ixylyr-Alaeon-Otajan system, but only one, Kal'e'zant, is considered to be a Core world. It is governed by Argus Oloriel Starzaeon a legendary Sirian Erudite. Being a Core world, Starzaeon's governance entails only implementing policy set by direct democracy, with executive decisions veto-able by certain committees.

Of the people trying to contact you, two stand out, but there are many others that may be of use or interest. A pair of Glietsel, 'hard light' entities in the shape of 3 (or more) dimensional fractals, are asking to use your services. These are probably the middlemen that had been involved in the fey slave trade. And Argus Oloriel Starzaeon has invited you to some sort of party.[/sblock]

Shayuri said:

There were no mild terms that could be applied to the Palace of Summer. Long before it had held that name, it had been designed so that only superlatives came to mind on seeing it. It was the -most- beautiful, the -most- awesome, the most intimidating, the tallest, the proudest... Legends ancient when most races were young told that a great sky-climbing tree had been planted in the palace's foundation...and that as the tree grew, the palace was built in it, and around it, and through it. The work of centuries. And this was certainly how it seemed to have been done, for the tree's mighty branches supported wings and annexes. Struts and buttresses of gilded marble held questing tendrils of wood aloft. Windows peeked out of burls and knots. And above it all rose the great Spire, the tower that the tree itself spiraled up around like an unspeakably vast tentacle of ivy. Made of radiant lathenum, a semi-translucent stone that sparkled with multicolored highlights, and each block of stone in an orichalcum molding, on a clear bright day the Spire could be seen for miles, with only the rolling horizon finally blotting it from sight.

[Snip]

Sigil realized that the paranoid former Queen of Winter had struck Kaydia a blow that went far beyond centuries of oppression and rule by fear. Uninterested in competing with other worlds at first...and later succuming to abject fear that those other worlds would one day invade, the Solstice, the Bitter Queen had seen to it that all her formidable power was bent to isolating Kaydia.

Was it too late now to undo the damage?

Click to expand...

As Sigil ponders the future of her realm, that feeling in her mind, neither a tickle nor a buzz but reminiscent of both, builds in strength once again. Mere hours after ascending to the throne of faerie the telepathic calls began. Alien minds making offers, the consequences of which could scarcely be guessed at. There was no dearth of beings promising wonders to help bring Kaydia 'into the Eschaton' but could they be trusted? Living among the fey quickly taught one to be wary of gifts.

Before once again braving the bewilderment of the Psi-web, Sigil spies Periwinkle flying up to her in haste from battlements along a great branch below. “Begging your grace's pardon for the intrusion. You asked to be informed if anyone reported abductions like those that happened under the Twilight Queen. There's a redcap below claiming to have witnessed just that. Normally, I'd as soon swallow an iron penny than take the word of an unseelie. But for certain, something's got him agitated. And, by Titania, I think he may be telling the truth.”

[sblock=Voidrazor]
ooc: Thanks .

Melanoce considers her options, pleased by the openings she percieves. The Kaydian situation was of particular interest. Modernizing an entire world and integrating it into the unviersal community would certainly be a long term undertaking, but it would if handled correctly give her both considerable profits and substantial influence over her neigbour, and though slave-trade could be a risky business it should perhaps not be dismissed all together at this time. Though considering the Citizen of Kaydia seemed capable of considerable divinative ability it would have to be handled very carefully. Unless an understanding could be reached, which seemed doubtful. Perhaps an exchange of information would get her some leverage in establishing herself on Kaydia...

She welcomes the Glietsel warmly, and asks to hear their offer while presenting them with pleasing mental images.

Lord Direspirit, she smiles uneasily, what an interesting gentleman. Faerzress was certainly a valuable commodity, disgustingly so in fact. But would the source be reliable? Necromancers, for all their talk of eternity, could be very short-sighted people. She would have to arrange a long term relationship, but on which grounds? Oh, he would need magical supplies, she supposed, refined magic as opposed to the raw magic he would sell to her and she would pass on to others. Perhaps he would even be interested in a security-arrangement? She would have to gauge his character carefully to determine the true value of such a plan.

Miss Seraphina could turn out to be a worthy advesary, or a valuable ally that would need a careful touch to manage. In either case she wold need a leverage, and the primitive state of her worlds finances presented just such a opportinity. Perhaps even the committes could be used to her favour, she had no aversions to that kind of politics...

Melanoce establishes a minor branch of her reputable financial-services corporation Vermilion Capital Ventures* on Seraphina's world to facilitate the financial markets on that world, exploit the inefficiencies to the gretest possible extent, and make a few CuBs along the way. She takes a direct and personal hand in managing its initial operations. Her aim is both making enormous sums of money and establishing a powerful financial influence on Tran'sa Kuul.

ooc: I'll deduct up to 60000 gold from her funds to make it happen, if she believes there's a good profit to be made. The financial services would off course involve lending and borrowing huge amounts of money among other things so the 60000 is just the base of the operation, but the karmic dept incurred should be cancelled out by the karmic credit simultaneously extended to others (otherwise speculation is impossible).

*Though Vermilion Capital Ventures is relatively well renowned for what's in the greater scheme of things a very minor company her ownership of the company has always been a well kept secret.

Also, she takes a deeper look into the committes involving themselves in her and her neigbours affairs. She makes quite an effort to uncover useful information that could be used to influence their work, both to deter them from her business and to sic them on her rivals. While doing that she takes a deeper look into the corporations on Seraphina's world to find any particularly juicy weaknesses to exploit. She scans the screen eagerly, smiling beautifully.

The invitation interrupts her concentrated work and she nearly makes the inexcusable faux-pas of ignoring it for the moment. There was much more work to be done, scores of gates to be set up and hundreds of deals to make, endless hours of information-gathering, but her work would have to wait. She replies Gracefully, intimating a little something about a mutually beneficial arrangement while shopping online for an appropriate and slightly ironic (though not in the least insulting or hurtful) gift that would impress him with both her wit, knowlege and good judgement while not seeming ingratiating. She'll spend the appropriate amount, but not get too extravagant.


ooc: Bold text describes her actions, non-bold text sets the rp-ing context.

ooc: Btw, does Direspirit's world have a name?

[/sblock]

Onboard the vessel known only as Slavemaker came the sounds of steel ringing as it hit steel and grunts and groans. The scent of blood and sweat permeated the air. In the massive arena that took up most of the space on the ship stood one man surrounded by three hulking green-skinned brutes and five winged beauties that (as one man schooled in the classical arts once put it) looked like the Greek Furies themselves were put to shame.

The man that they surrounded, however, looked like Adonis himself personified. Clad in an ornately designed silk shirt that opened at the front that accentuated his herculean physique, he tenses as he begins his attack.


He dodges the blows that come at him from all sides. Parrying the flailing claws of one of the brutes, he slips under the guard of one of the winged women and slashes her thigh with a fine-edged curved dagger that seemed to move like a blur to the naked eye.


To be continued...

Voidrazor said:

As Sigil ponders the future of her realm, that feeling in her mind, neither a tickle nor a buzz but reminiscent of both, builds in strength once again. Mere hours after ascending to the throne of faerie the telepathic calls began. Alien minds making offers, the consequences of which could scarcely be guessed at. There was no dearth of beings promising wonders to help bring Kaydia 'into the Eschaton' but could they be trusted? Living among the fey quickly taught one to be wary of gifts.

Before once again braving the bewilderment of the Psi-web, Sigil spies Periwinkle flying up to her in haste from battlements along a great branch below. “Begging your grace's pardon for the intrusion. You asked to be informed if anyone reported abductions like those that happened under the Twilight Queen. There's a redcap below claiming to have witnessed just that. Normally, I'd as soon swallow an iron penny than take the word of an unseelie. But for certain, something's got him agitated. And, by Titania, I think he may be telling the truth.”

Click to expand...

Sigil stiffens slightly. Redcaps. Murderous little goblinish creatures. The red of their caps was blood, classically. And yet, they were hers now too. The courts on Kaydia did not have separate rulers. And she had sworn not to walk the road of Winter, favoring one court outrageously over the other. And this was really a positive sign. One of the unseelie actually -doing- as she'd asked. It was to be encouraged.

She glanced at Periwinkle and nodded with a gentle smile. "Thank you for the news. I will meet the redcap in five minutes in the Great Hall, and hear his testimony."

With that, she picked a black feathered mask from one of the tables in the sitting room, and placed it over her face. Golden sparks engulfed her...and left her transformed when they cleared. The modest, simple prettiness was gone, replaced by shining robes of gold and platinum threads that fell over her suddenly improbably gorgeous figure like waves of liquid metal. Golden spokes rose up in an arc behind her, like the rays of the setting sun, or a peacock's tail, and an impossibly elaborate headdress of gems and silver wire framed features too perfect to be real. The point of courtly glamour wasn't to be -realistic-. Everyone knew it was magic. The point was to be -impressive-. The ultimate statement of style over substance.

From there she took up a length of flat charcoal grey cloth from a hanging hook and draped it over her shoulders. The illusion around her wavered and absorbed the Shroud as she donned it. Never one to attend even the least of audiences without the full regalia, she.

Finally her feet, now invisible under the glorious glamor, lifted off the floor....and she vanished in a puff of sparks. The audience chamber of the Great Hall was only a few such hops away, and by the time the redcap entered, she was ready, hovering above the grand throne, with great balefire torches blazing on either wall, encompassing the room, and her with light.

"Enter and speak," she bade the redcap. "What news have you?"

Vertexx69 said:

[snip]

Stepping from the transport in her maroon leather chained pants, she was met by a cheers and applause. Her people adored her and thats what she liked most about them. The pulse of the music drew her into the establishment with promises of adreniline and sweat - just what she needed after dying yesterday. The bouncers, standing nearly a foot taller than her, eyed her laciviously as she strode past them. Her horns shining in the multi-hololights as she wound her way through the insane asylum of writhing bodies, with smile widening to show her fangs.

Click to expand...

As the music washes over Serraphina her sub-com pulses with subtle urgency. Much of the point of the device was to make the constant requests for contact via the psi-web less annoying, filtering out the chaff and signaling in as low key a manor as possible. For it pulse in this fashion, the sender had to be had to have a high level inherent priority, not an easy thing to come by. The ID is Inquisitor Qebehsenuef. This had to be something big. There was one inquisitor for perhaps every thousand worlds, and Qebehsenuef was one of the first, sired by the Lord High Inquisitor Quillian Bliss, charged with the task of eliminating threats with the potential of destroying souls on a planetary or greater level. They themselves were essentially vampiric gods, though their actions were tightly controlled by Committees.

Just then, a T’lkt’n speaker-drone flies over the crowd to hover in front of Serraphina's face. The roach-like bioengineered insect vibrates its abdomen creating a noise that perfectly emulates spoken word, doubtless psionically guided in its movements by T’lkt’n hive queen. “A fortunate coincidence running into you here Citizen. I need to warn you about the Faransi slander you will no doubt hear in the coming days.”

[sblock=OOC] Faransil is a planet in the local system populated almost entirely by a race that is said to have no two members that look the same. The Faransi make a bacterial drug with an everchanging composition usually known as wildside. The substance is very popular on Tran'sa 'Kuul and several companies on Serraphina's world import it.[/Sblock]