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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 5478778" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Gothic: Part 6 – Speaking in Tongues</strong></p><p></p><p>A great vat squatted in the center of the chamber, filled with roiling pale mucus. From their alcoves to either side, bloated giants stood pulsing and heaving. The towering bloated giants looked as if their skin was about to burst. Thick veins forked across the giants' flesh, and their bodies pulsed and shifted as if a great quantity of fluids strained beneath their skin.</p><p></p><p>Before Jim-Bean sauntered into the room they had argued at length as to what to do. Killing her was always an option. But in the end they argued for a more subtle approach. In a world gone mad, being human went a long way, and near as they could tell the woman was human. </p><p></p><p>Besides, if things went south, there was always the passphrase: "Bloody hell!"</p><p></p><p>Two walls of the chamber were lined with tome-stuffed shelves, and a stained desk was shoved into the southwest corner. Behind the vat, a slender figure in pale leather armor and hood yelled in consternation.</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean sauntered into the room. "You can stop yelling, I'm here now."</p><p></p><p>The slender figure named Thredra narrowed her eyes. "Interesting. You are powerful indeed," she said appraisingly. "No magic at work. And yet you spoke in my mind…"</p><p></p><p>"I told you I was quite powerful." Using his clairvoyance, Jim-Bean was able to scout ahead. It was a simple matter to telepathically contact the necromancer, who was thankfully a living being. </p><p></p><p>"Who are you, stranger? What's your name?"</p><p></p><p>"Andy," said Jim-Bean. "Andy Cook." He didn't like the kid.</p><p></p><p>"My name's Thredra. Thredra Aranax."</p><p></p><p>"Interesting name," said Jim-Bean. </p><p></p><p>"I'm quite interesting, as you can see." She gestured at herself and Jim-Bean, even before he entered the room, knew what she meant. Thredra wore an impractical bustier of pale leather, baring her midriff. A hooded cloak framed her pinched features. Skulls dangled from a belt that hung loosely around her waist.</p><p></p><p>"About Nadasdy…" he reminded her.</p><p></p><p>"Ah yes, Count Nadasdy." She sighed, pacing. "He's been sending spies after me ever since the Nightmare Wave."</p><p></p><p>"Nightmare Wave?" snorted Jim-Bean. He thought the name was ridiculous.</p><p></p><p>"Yes," said Thredra. "He has grown increasingly depraved and is now utterly lost to madness. I believe that's what precipitated his attack on you at the Darklands Club. He would never be so careless – he'll bring all of PISCES down on our heads!"</p><p></p><p>"So…" Jim-Bean tried to ignore the heaving giants. "How exactly did you fit those big guys in here?"</p><p></p><p>Thredra frowned. "They started out smaller, but as they fed on blood they got bigger and bigger and, well…" she made a little noise of frustration, "now they can't leave this room. Poor planning on my part, I admit."</p><p></p><p>"Right. Okay. So anyway, I wanted to discuss a change in the hierarchy around here."</p><p></p><p>Thredra looked him up and down. "What are you suggesting?"</p><p></p><p>"Only that if Nadasdy were to…step down…there will be a power vacuum. Someone will need to take his place."</p><p></p><p>Thredra raised one delicately plucked eyebrow. "And who might that be?"</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean shrugged. "Got something to drink?"</p><p></p><p>The necromancer made a decision. "Yes. Yes I could use a drink. This way." She beckoned Jim-Bean into a room behind her. Without hesitating he followed her in. </p><p></p><p>It was just about what he expected of a muttering scantily-clad necromanceress in the dungeon of a vampire. Two large thrones on the balcony overlooked a flooded chamber filled with torture equipment. She gestured and the muck responded. </p><p></p><p>A humanoid, covered in the thick film of the torture chamber slime, slid upwards, reaching. Jim-Bean thought he could make out two forms, one hunched and legless clawing over the other. They reached into a compartment beneath the balcony. A tray slid out, with two glasses and a bottle. Like demented acrobats in a circus of rot and filth, the two bodies served wine – waiters at the fanciest restaurant in the crypt.</p><p></p><p>Thredra uncorked the bottle, poured them both a glass, and handed one to Jim-Bean before reclining on the throne. Jim-Bean did the same on the throne opposite hers. </p><p></p><p>"I've long served Nadasdy," she said after sipping the blood-red wine. For all Jim-Bean knew it was blood. "Who wouldn't bow down to such a black-hearted power? But lately…Nadasdy hasn't been himself."</p><p></p><p>"And you're wondering what to do about it." Jim-Bean gave the drink a taste. It actually wasn't bad.</p><p></p><p>"I question tying myself to someone who's grip on sanity slowly crumbles."</p><p></p><p>"So his behavior at Club Darklands wasn't the first incident?"</p><p></p><p>Thredra shook her head. "Nadasdy's growing insanity manifests itself in many ways. Most obviously, he's started sending his servants secretly against me, disguising them as Brichester villagers." Her face twisted in rage. It wasn't a pretty sight. "He's forgotten all I've done for him…and what I could accomplish against him, should I decide to act."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean almost smiled. His telepathic conversation with her was dead on target. For every fanatically loyal underling, there was another waiting to stab her boss in the back. A little necromancy didn't change things one bit. </p><p></p><p>"What if Nadasdy were to be eliminated?"</p><p></p><p>She shrugged her bony shoulders. "I want things back the way they were. The old way. When there were rules, and people respected them. Now, he seems to be under the sway of other forces…"</p><p></p><p>"Inconnu," finished Jim-Bean.</p><p></p><p>Thredra failed to hide her surprise at his familiarity with the term. "Whatever they are, it's disrupting everything. Their grip on Nadasdy is ruining the empire he built – the empire I helped him build. I want that back."</p><p></p><p>"Then I believe we can help each other," said Jim-Bean. </p><p></p><p>"I can give you specific aid," said Thredra. "I can't act myself, of course. If the hierarchy were to know of my involvement—"</p><p></p><p>"I didn't get this far without being discrete," said Jim-Bean curtly. </p><p></p><p>She got the message. Thredra pulled a ring made of bone off her finger and held it up in the dim torchlight. Inscribed on the interior of the band were some evil-looking runes. The exterior of the band was carved to resemble a swarm of humanoid skeletons interlocked in a circle. </p><p></p><p>"This is a Ring of Parting Prevented. It will protect you from Nadasdy's life-draining touch. But I will share this ring with you on one condition."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean waited.</p><p></p><p>"You will repay me with a tongue."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean nearly spit out his drink. </p><p></p><p>Thredra's lips curled into a slow smile. "Bring me the tongue of a living man or woman. The man or woman must be alive when you render their tongue unto me."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean snapped his wrist and a knife was at the ready. "I could give you mine right here." He lifted it to his lips and opened his mouth.</p><p></p><p>Thredra held up a hand. "You've such a talent. I'd hate for you to ruin a natural gift – but you must be powerful indeed if you can survive its removal..."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean snapped his mouth shut. "You have no idea."</p><p></p><p>She leaned forward, putting one delicate hand on his forearm. "I like you, Andy. So I'll throw in the whereabouts of a certain saint's thighbone that will be useful against Nadasdy. Just get me that tongue."</p><p></p><p>"What do you need it for anyway?"</p><p></p><p>Thredra smiled and this time Jim-Bean felt a chill. "It has certain necromantic requirements that cannot be set aside."</p><p></p><p>"We'll get you one."</p><p></p><p>She flipped him the ring. Jim-Bean caught it in mid-air. </p><p></p><p>"We?"</p><p></p><p>"I have…associates."</p><p></p><p>Thredra took this in stride. "Your acceptance of this ring is your unbreakable pledge to bring me what I requested. If not, you forfeit your own tongue." She grinned. "I'm sure I can find a use for it."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean slipped the ring into his pocket. "And the saint?"</p><p></p><p>"You passed through the catacombs to get here. Go back through the tunnel, directly past four crypts to a crypt set into the east wall. The name once inscribed there is clawed away. Inside, you'll find Saint Markovia's thighbone. It is a relic of some power that is useful against Nadasdy."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean got up. "Thanks." He patted Thredra's arm. "We'll continue this discussion once we've eliminated Nadasdy—"</p><p></p><p>Before he could remove his hand, she clasped her own bony claw over it. Thredra's eyes met his. "Don't forget the tongue."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean lost all saliva in his mouth, but he managed to keep his cool and nod.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 5478778, member: 3285"] [b]Gothic: Part 6 – Speaking in Tongues[/b] A great vat squatted in the center of the chamber, filled with roiling pale mucus. From their alcoves to either side, bloated giants stood pulsing and heaving. The towering bloated giants looked as if their skin was about to burst. Thick veins forked across the giants' flesh, and their bodies pulsed and shifted as if a great quantity of fluids strained beneath their skin. Before Jim-Bean sauntered into the room they had argued at length as to what to do. Killing her was always an option. But in the end they argued for a more subtle approach. In a world gone mad, being human went a long way, and near as they could tell the woman was human. Besides, if things went south, there was always the passphrase: "Bloody hell!" Two walls of the chamber were lined with tome-stuffed shelves, and a stained desk was shoved into the southwest corner. Behind the vat, a slender figure in pale leather armor and hood yelled in consternation. Jim-Bean sauntered into the room. "You can stop yelling, I'm here now." The slender figure named Thredra narrowed her eyes. "Interesting. You are powerful indeed," she said appraisingly. "No magic at work. And yet you spoke in my mind…" "I told you I was quite powerful." Using his clairvoyance, Jim-Bean was able to scout ahead. It was a simple matter to telepathically contact the necromancer, who was thankfully a living being. "Who are you, stranger? What's your name?" "Andy," said Jim-Bean. "Andy Cook." He didn't like the kid. "My name's Thredra. Thredra Aranax." "Interesting name," said Jim-Bean. "I'm quite interesting, as you can see." She gestured at herself and Jim-Bean, even before he entered the room, knew what she meant. Thredra wore an impractical bustier of pale leather, baring her midriff. A hooded cloak framed her pinched features. Skulls dangled from a belt that hung loosely around her waist. "About Nadasdy…" he reminded her. "Ah yes, Count Nadasdy." She sighed, pacing. "He's been sending spies after me ever since the Nightmare Wave." "Nightmare Wave?" snorted Jim-Bean. He thought the name was ridiculous. "Yes," said Thredra. "He has grown increasingly depraved and is now utterly lost to madness. I believe that's what precipitated his attack on you at the Darklands Club. He would never be so careless – he'll bring all of PISCES down on our heads!" "So…" Jim-Bean tried to ignore the heaving giants. "How exactly did you fit those big guys in here?" Thredra frowned. "They started out smaller, but as they fed on blood they got bigger and bigger and, well…" she made a little noise of frustration, "now they can't leave this room. Poor planning on my part, I admit." "Right. Okay. So anyway, I wanted to discuss a change in the hierarchy around here." Thredra looked him up and down. "What are you suggesting?" "Only that if Nadasdy were to…step down…there will be a power vacuum. Someone will need to take his place." Thredra raised one delicately plucked eyebrow. "And who might that be?" Jim-Bean shrugged. "Got something to drink?" The necromancer made a decision. "Yes. Yes I could use a drink. This way." She beckoned Jim-Bean into a room behind her. Without hesitating he followed her in. It was just about what he expected of a muttering scantily-clad necromanceress in the dungeon of a vampire. Two large thrones on the balcony overlooked a flooded chamber filled with torture equipment. She gestured and the muck responded. A humanoid, covered in the thick film of the torture chamber slime, slid upwards, reaching. Jim-Bean thought he could make out two forms, one hunched and legless clawing over the other. They reached into a compartment beneath the balcony. A tray slid out, with two glasses and a bottle. Like demented acrobats in a circus of rot and filth, the two bodies served wine – waiters at the fanciest restaurant in the crypt. Thredra uncorked the bottle, poured them both a glass, and handed one to Jim-Bean before reclining on the throne. Jim-Bean did the same on the throne opposite hers. "I've long served Nadasdy," she said after sipping the blood-red wine. For all Jim-Bean knew it was blood. "Who wouldn't bow down to such a black-hearted power? But lately…Nadasdy hasn't been himself." "And you're wondering what to do about it." Jim-Bean gave the drink a taste. It actually wasn't bad. "I question tying myself to someone who's grip on sanity slowly crumbles." "So his behavior at Club Darklands wasn't the first incident?" Thredra shook her head. "Nadasdy's growing insanity manifests itself in many ways. Most obviously, he's started sending his servants secretly against me, disguising them as Brichester villagers." Her face twisted in rage. It wasn't a pretty sight. "He's forgotten all I've done for him…and what I could accomplish against him, should I decide to act." Jim-Bean almost smiled. His telepathic conversation with her was dead on target. For every fanatically loyal underling, there was another waiting to stab her boss in the back. A little necromancy didn't change things one bit. "What if Nadasdy were to be eliminated?" She shrugged her bony shoulders. "I want things back the way they were. The old way. When there were rules, and people respected them. Now, he seems to be under the sway of other forces…" "Inconnu," finished Jim-Bean. Thredra failed to hide her surprise at his familiarity with the term. "Whatever they are, it's disrupting everything. Their grip on Nadasdy is ruining the empire he built – the empire I helped him build. I want that back." "Then I believe we can help each other," said Jim-Bean. "I can give you specific aid," said Thredra. "I can't act myself, of course. If the hierarchy were to know of my involvement—" "I didn't get this far without being discrete," said Jim-Bean curtly. She got the message. Thredra pulled a ring made of bone off her finger and held it up in the dim torchlight. Inscribed on the interior of the band were some evil-looking runes. The exterior of the band was carved to resemble a swarm of humanoid skeletons interlocked in a circle. "This is a Ring of Parting Prevented. It will protect you from Nadasdy's life-draining touch. But I will share this ring with you on one condition." Jim-Bean waited. "You will repay me with a tongue." Jim-Bean nearly spit out his drink. Thredra's lips curled into a slow smile. "Bring me the tongue of a living man or woman. The man or woman must be alive when you render their tongue unto me." Jim-Bean snapped his wrist and a knife was at the ready. "I could give you mine right here." He lifted it to his lips and opened his mouth. Thredra held up a hand. "You've such a talent. I'd hate for you to ruin a natural gift – but you must be powerful indeed if you can survive its removal..." Jim-Bean snapped his mouth shut. "You have no idea." She leaned forward, putting one delicate hand on his forearm. "I like you, Andy. So I'll throw in the whereabouts of a certain saint's thighbone that will be useful against Nadasdy. Just get me that tongue." "What do you need it for anyway?" Thredra smiled and this time Jim-Bean felt a chill. "It has certain necromantic requirements that cannot be set aside." "We'll get you one." She flipped him the ring. Jim-Bean caught it in mid-air. "We?" "I have…associates." Thredra took this in stride. "Your acceptance of this ring is your unbreakable pledge to bring me what I requested. If not, you forfeit your own tongue." She grinned. "I'm sure I can find a use for it." Jim-Bean slipped the ring into his pocket. "And the saint?" "You passed through the catacombs to get here. Go back through the tunnel, directly past four crypts to a crypt set into the east wall. The name once inscribed there is clawed away. Inside, you'll find Saint Markovia's thighbone. It is a relic of some power that is useful against Nadasdy." Jim-Bean got up. "Thanks." He patted Thredra's arm. "We'll continue this discussion once we've eliminated Nadasdy—" Before he could remove his hand, she clasped her own bony claw over it. Thredra's eyes met his. "Don't forget the tongue." Jim-Bean lost all saliva in his mouth, but he managed to keep his cool and nod. [/QUOTE]
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