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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4232722" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>The Madman: Part 3 – Interview With Lucius Roby</strong></p><p></p><p>The main prison in Freeport was located inside the compound and was known throughout the city as The Tombs. The building was made from solid brick. There was a main floor above ground, with bars on all the windows, and reinforced walls that were three-feet thick. The roof of the building was shaped like a massive and foreboding ziggurat. </p><p></p><p>Inside, a guard stopped in his business and, staring at Kham, started to ask Price a question. </p><p></p><p>“Not now, Evans.” Price kept walking, leaving the man looking at their backs. </p><p></p><p>The prison cells were all located two floors underground. There were sixty cells on each floor, approximately eight feet by six feet, built to hold up to three prisoners, though several held more. The walls of the cells were constructed of large, stone blocks. </p><p></p><p>The sound of footsteps and muted sobbing echoed back off bare stone corridors as Price led them to Lucius’ cell. He unlocked it and ushered them in.</p><p></p><p>Lucius was dressed in a white canvas tunic and trousers. The room was tiny, dim, and chilly. There was a bed, table, and two chairs, and no possessions except for a stack of a dozen or so books on the table. A barred window gave a view of the sky.</p><p></p><p>When they first entered, Lucius looked up.</p><p></p><p>“Delia?” he asks.</p><p></p><p>“Who’s Delia?” asked Kham.</p><p> </p><p>Lucius didn’t respond. He was hunched over, looking at his lap. </p><p></p><p>Beldin took the time to scan the titles. “Hmmph,” said Beldin. “Never heard of these.”</p><p></p><p>“They’re poetry,” said Ilmarė. “You should pick up a book some time.”</p><p></p><p>“Being locked in this room is inconvenient,” said Lucius. His manner of speech was odd; the cadence was slow and irregular. “It means I cannot finish my work and so I cannot go where I would like to go.” </p><p></p><p>“Go where?” asked Vlad. </p><p></p><p>Lucius paused. </p><p></p><p>“You know, few writers have the ability to write honestly. Truths are used for entertainment only and that is a strange concept: it barely grazes what is of import. Such a writer is like a man whose only concern is to hide his ignorance, willful misrepresentation, a shut mind, closed eyes, a tight mouth, and balled fists. It’s not enough to have the ability, bring your intellect to bear like a light in the darkness, like a sane man in a world of madmen.”</p><p></p><p>He smiled ruefully to himself and was quiet.</p><p></p><p>Kham edged closer to Lucius. “Lucius, you wrote a book. A book you published. Something about a Walker by the Lake?”</p><p></p><p>The room became quite silent. Lucius tensed up, a feeling that somehow transmitted to the entire room. Even Price shifted his position by the door. </p><p></p><p>Lucius started talking loudly, not leaving room for replies. “Have you been down by the lake and seen the beauty and felt the rightness of it all? Have you seen the pallid mask? Edwards said to work only with him. Are you with Livius?” He looked around, blinking in confusion. “Why are they not here? Is it this year, once in five thousand years?” He started shouting. “Has Livius brought the King in Yellow? Is he already amongst us?”</p><p></p><p>Kham put both hands up. “Easy, Lucius, easy.”</p><p></p><p>“Have you seen the Yellow Sign?” whispered Lucius.</p><p></p><p>“More than once,” said Ilmarė.</p><p></p><p>“What Edwards and I are doing now harms no one,” Lucius said in a monotone, without feeling. “But I have been worrying about Livius Carbo and the conversations we had. Despite what Edwards might think, I believe Livius is right. The King in Yellow has called himself the White Acolyte.”</p><p></p><p>“That’s a new one,” said Vlad. </p><p></p><p>Lucius stared at Vlad. “I don’t think he will stay away. So here is a kindness I would like you to pass on to him for when he sees that the King does not offer him what he hopes. To divert the King’s attention away from Arcanis and back upon the dream city, he must think of Cassilda’s song:</p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The stars that burn their charcoal death</em></p><p><em>Shrink back, they feel the hoary breath</em></p><p><em>Of he who ransoms great Carcosa</em></p><p><em>He flees where queen and prophet meet</em></p><p><em>Where twin suns fall but never set</em></p><p><em>Escapes the tomb of lost Carcosa.</em>”</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė bit her lip. She stepped out of Lucius’ cell. Vlad followed her. </p><p></p><p>“What?” asked Vlad.</p><p></p><p>“Yet another amazing coincidence,” said Ilmarė.</p><p></p><p>Beldin joined them. He locked gazes with her. “I know, I heard it too.”</p><p></p><p>“Heard what?” asked Vlad.</p><p></p><p>“That song,” said Ilmarė. “If Lucius hasn’t received any news of the outside world…”</p><p></p><p>“Then how did he quote the exact lyrics from Talbot’s play?” finished Beldin.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4232722, member: 3285"] [b]The Madman: Part 3 – Interview With Lucius Roby[/b] The main prison in Freeport was located inside the compound and was known throughout the city as The Tombs. The building was made from solid brick. There was a main floor above ground, with bars on all the windows, and reinforced walls that were three-feet thick. The roof of the building was shaped like a massive and foreboding ziggurat. Inside, a guard stopped in his business and, staring at Kham, started to ask Price a question. “Not now, Evans.” Price kept walking, leaving the man looking at their backs. The prison cells were all located two floors underground. There were sixty cells on each floor, approximately eight feet by six feet, built to hold up to three prisoners, though several held more. The walls of the cells were constructed of large, stone blocks. The sound of footsteps and muted sobbing echoed back off bare stone corridors as Price led them to Lucius’ cell. He unlocked it and ushered them in. Lucius was dressed in a white canvas tunic and trousers. The room was tiny, dim, and chilly. There was a bed, table, and two chairs, and no possessions except for a stack of a dozen or so books on the table. A barred window gave a view of the sky. When they first entered, Lucius looked up. “Delia?” he asks. “Who’s Delia?” asked Kham. Lucius didn’t respond. He was hunched over, looking at his lap. Beldin took the time to scan the titles. “Hmmph,” said Beldin. “Never heard of these.” “They’re poetry,” said Ilmarė. “You should pick up a book some time.” “Being locked in this room is inconvenient,” said Lucius. His manner of speech was odd; the cadence was slow and irregular. “It means I cannot finish my work and so I cannot go where I would like to go.” “Go where?” asked Vlad. Lucius paused. “You know, few writers have the ability to write honestly. Truths are used for entertainment only and that is a strange concept: it barely grazes what is of import. Such a writer is like a man whose only concern is to hide his ignorance, willful misrepresentation, a shut mind, closed eyes, a tight mouth, and balled fists. It’s not enough to have the ability, bring your intellect to bear like a light in the darkness, like a sane man in a world of madmen.” He smiled ruefully to himself and was quiet. Kham edged closer to Lucius. “Lucius, you wrote a book. A book you published. Something about a Walker by the Lake?” The room became quite silent. Lucius tensed up, a feeling that somehow transmitted to the entire room. Even Price shifted his position by the door. Lucius started talking loudly, not leaving room for replies. “Have you been down by the lake and seen the beauty and felt the rightness of it all? Have you seen the pallid mask? Edwards said to work only with him. Are you with Livius?” He looked around, blinking in confusion. “Why are they not here? Is it this year, once in five thousand years?” He started shouting. “Has Livius brought the King in Yellow? Is he already amongst us?” Kham put both hands up. “Easy, Lucius, easy.” “Have you seen the Yellow Sign?” whispered Lucius. “More than once,” said Ilmarė. “What Edwards and I are doing now harms no one,” Lucius said in a monotone, without feeling. “But I have been worrying about Livius Carbo and the conversations we had. Despite what Edwards might think, I believe Livius is right. The King in Yellow has called himself the White Acolyte.” “That’s a new one,” said Vlad. Lucius stared at Vlad. “I don’t think he will stay away. So here is a kindness I would like you to pass on to him for when he sees that the King does not offer him what he hopes. To divert the King’s attention away from Arcanis and back upon the dream city, he must think of Cassilda’s song: [I] The stars that burn their charcoal death Shrink back, they feel the hoary breath Of he who ransoms great Carcosa He flees where queen and prophet meet Where twin suns fall but never set Escapes the tomb of lost Carcosa.[/I]” Ilmarė bit her lip. She stepped out of Lucius’ cell. Vlad followed her. “What?” asked Vlad. “Yet another amazing coincidence,” said Ilmarė. Beldin joined them. He locked gazes with her. “I know, I heard it too.” “Heard what?” asked Vlad. “That song,” said Ilmarė. “If Lucius hasn’t received any news of the outside world…” “Then how did he quote the exact lyrics from Talbot’s play?” finished Beldin. [/QUOTE]
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