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[ZEITGEIST] The Continuing Adventures of Korrigan & Co.
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<blockquote data-quote="gideonpepys" data-source="post: 7517306" data-attributes="member: 79141"><p><strong>Session 202, Part Two - Pemberton Industries, Axis Division</strong></p><p></p><p>On their way to Axis Island, they reprised their philosophical debate with Rutger Smith from five years earlier. Kieran Sentacore joined in too. Both had once been firm adherents of the Panoply, and remained sympathetic to the politics of that movement, but each had undergone a crisis of sorts on learning that William Miller, the group’s founder, was none other than Nicodemus himself. Yes, the rational thing to do (as Korrigan often reminded them) was to divorce Miller and his teachings from what he had become, but this was not satisfying on an emotional level.</p><p></p><p>Rumdoom’s interjections on eschatology had been all-but ignored last time round. The conversation had been dominated by Smith and Malthusius. But Uriel, on this occasion, was uncharacteristically silent, and Rumdoom’s confidence had grown, and now he warmed to the subject. Eschatology, he said, was focused on the end of things, but Rumschatology was all about control. “Control of the end,” Sentacore nodded sagely, filling a blank he imagined Rumdoom had left to show he had understood. “No, control of everything,” Rumdoom insisted, leaning in close. He told them about his newly developed power to issue a ‘fiat’ that altered fate, a much broader application of his trusty knack for good endings. The implication was clear – Rumdoom wondered how close his branch of eschatology came to the global control now imposed by the Ob. Both Sentacore and Smith sought to reassure him – of course he wasn’t as bad as them, he wasn’t trying to control everything and everyone. But Rumdoom rejected their mollifications and insisted that maybe he was.</p><p></p><p>Gupta had not joined them for dinner. She spent the journey in her berth, applying the divination magic of Nicodemus’ ring to everyone they knew, including Korrigan (just in case…).</p><p></p><p>Approaching the island from the south, they slowed down and made their presence clear, sailing close to a lookout point on a small isthmus to the east. About an hour after that, two dots appeared in the sky, the dots grew steadily, and minutes later they were buzzed by two flying machines, each occupied by a pair of gnolls: a pilot in goggles and a leather cap; and a ‘spotter’ equipped with binoculars. Having identified them – they flew the Risuri flag and the easily recognisable unit made no attempt to hide – the fliers buzzed away.</p><p></p><p>Uru suggested that they sneak onto the island using the undersea entrance through the mines, just like last time, but Korrigan preferred a more direct approach. Although wary of Danoran involvement, they took the Coaltongue round to the north, and sailed right up to the fortress, dropping anchor just out of artillery range. They could see that Pemberton had greatly augmented the defences along the wall. His flags now fluttered over the fort.</p><p></p><p>Eventually, Pemberton appeared on the battlements, and addressed them using a magical ‘macrophone’ similar to the one Korrigan had recently commissioned. He welcomed them and asked them what they wanted. Korrigan explained that they had come to parley, and that they hoped to find common ground in this new age. Pemberton sought and received reassurances that they did not intend to take the island. Korrigan pointed out that he had left his fleet behind. Pemberton took a moment to consider this, then he invited them in. Korrigan said he would go alone, but Pemberton refused to allow them to come without the Coaltongue. If anything, the Risuri flagship would serve as proof of their reciprocal trust. (If he couldn’t take them out, he could certainly sink the Coaltongue. …)</p><p></p><p>The great sea gates open and they sailed in, through walls and past stone wharfs crowded with heavily armed gnolls. (Korrigan was slightly disappointed to find that the Rites of Rulership did not extend here. No people, no power.) When they disembarked, they saw bloody smears everywhere, and each gnoll had a freshly blood-stained muzzle. (Gnolls were not known for taking prisoners.) </p><p></p><p>Through this fetid, flyblown atmosphere came Pemberton, dressed in a sharp, white suit, and accompanied as always by the sniggering Pardo. Gupta made sure to keep herself in Pemberton’s line of sight. She had done something different with her hair. Pemberton overlooked this for now, and led them to a table with a commanding view of the harbour, where they were served limeade and sat down to talk. Pemberton wondered how they knew he had taken the island. Korrigan’s response was cagey. Pemberton was cagey too, when discussing his own plans, but was frankly dismissive of the king’s offer to join forces and try to hold on to the island. They weren’t just up against Danorans now – the whole world was arrayed against them. Pemberton’s small force was effective, yes, but no match for the armies of nations. This was frustrating for Korrigan who could not stand the idea of letting go of such a valuable territory. He pressed the issue, and the conversation stalled momentarily.</p><p></p><p>“What do you plan to do when the Danorans come?” he asked in exasperation.</p><p></p><p>“I plan to get the hell out of here,” said Pemberton. “But by then I hope to have the answers I came for.” Then he invited the king and his entourage to lay down their burdens for a time, and come to explore the island with him – specifically, the site of the ritual seal, where it was clear things hadn’t gone according to the Obscurati’s plan. On the way, he would introduce them to another of his guests, a ‘mutual friend’ who had only recently decided that Pemberton “wasn’t so bad after all”. Together, they had come up with a little plan that the unit might find interesting. This mystery guest was none other than Brakken of Heffinata, who had infiltrated Pemberton’s forces on behalf of the nation of Ber. “I thought he was big for a gnoll! But it turned out to be a very clever mind trick.” Right now, Brakken was out with an elite party of gnolls searching the island for Ob survivors. </p><p></p><p>Pemberton was confident that nothing on the island could pose a threat to the unit, but there were odd planar fluctuations and he didn’t want to risk any more of his loyal subjects. So this trip would only include the unit, Pardo and Pemberton himself (both of whom were obviously in duplicant form.) It was a few miles to where Brakken was searching, but handily the Obscurati built roads, so Pemberton offered to drive them in his experimental steam-powered road cars. These vehicles had a very industrial aesthetic with lots of exposed metal, no roofs and no windows; Pemberton hadn’t gotten around to gussying them up yet, but of course for public production they would have fine upholstery and leather seats.</p><p></p><p>Since each car only had four seats, Pemberton gave the unit a quick lesson in how to drive them. Uru was excited to learn, but torn: Pemberton had agreed that he and Wondermaker could stay behind and lend their expertise to his ‘latest bit of tech’. Both were eager to learn more about the ‘dragon-fliers’ they had seen earlier. (“Take a look around at your leisure. Just don’t go near the central keep. My subjects get touchy when strangers approach my lair.”) So Uru would not get to drive a car – that task fell to Gupta and Thurgid Ironspoon. (Rumdoom and his entourage would squeeze into one car; Gupta, Quratulain and Uriel took a second; Korrigan joined Pemberton and Pardo.) Transmission was a bit awkward right now, but after a few minutes they got the hang of it and caravanned out of the fort.</p><p></p><p>“I should thank you,” said Pemberton as they drove, shouting over the noise of the engine, “for giving me the idea to take this place when we last met up on Macdam. I never thought the chance would arise, but I’m nothing if not an opportunist. Say, you must tell me how it went down with She Who Writhes.” Korrigan explained that she wasn’t the only titan they had dealt with recently – all but the Voice of Rot, in fact. “Four titans?” hollered Pemberton. “If I’d known that, I’d have thought twice about letting you in here! You know, I once had a run-in with the Father of Thunder. This was in my youth, of course. I heard he was up and about, and I thought to myself, ‘Grady, it’d be a damned shame not to take a crack at the old son of a gun before whichever king was in charge of Risur put him back to sleep’. I tell you, that horny bastard did not appreciate me strafing his herd. Zapped me good!” Then he shook his head in amazement and repeated, “Four of ‘em!”</p><p></p><p>The four-mile drive to the island’s central valley should only have taken a few minutes, but as the cars neared a mining village, trouble struck at a sort of parking lot for industrial machines. They heard a lumbering crash of metal and felt an unwelcome presence in their minds. A few hundred feet out they spotted a twenty-foot tall construct lumber into view from behind a crane, headless but with some wispy tendrils trailing upward from the cracked hole between its shoulders.</p><p></p><p>Pemberton clapped his hands once with excitement and gunned the car’s engine, driving straight for the golem. “This damned monster killed a half-dozen of my subjects. Now I hate to ask a favour of my guests, but I’m about to drive very close to it, so if you would be so kind to do what you’re good at?”</p><p></p><p>They did just exactly that, with Pardo lending a hand, while Pemberton enjoyed spinning the car around the battlefield. Gupta switched to hybrid form to make the most of her feline reflexes, weaving between obstacles while Quratulain focused on shooting the golem. Korrigan took to the air and issued orders. It turned out that the golem was currently host to a hivemind, capable of weakening their mental resolve, and lashing them with psychic tendrils. When it tried to control Gupta she shrugged it off (thanks to Korrigan’s crown) and identified its mental ‘scent’ – formed from the psyches of the very Ob loyalists they were looking for. The hivemind was difficult to get at; the golem was tough to damage and leaked huge, necrotic pools of witchoil. Rumdoom leapt through the air and knocked it prone. Korrigan remembered how they had dealt with such thoughtforms in the past and he attacked it with his mind – yanking it out of its construct armour and then solidifying it. Quratulain redoubled her onslaught now that it was vulnerable and blew the hivemind to pieces. Once it was gone, the golem staggered about a bit and then grew still.</p><p></p><p>Once the commotion of battle died down, Brakken and a squad of gnolls emerged from the nearby jungle. Brakken was mentally exhausted, having focused all of his psychic powers to keep the hivemind from sensing them. He gave a cheery wave to the unit, then rushed to the body of the monster. He held a hand out to it and concentrated, then announced that he had a sense of where it came from – one of the mines a quarter mile up the mountain. Gupta confirmed his guess that it had been formed by Obscurati hold-outs.</p><p></p><p>They decided to detour up to the mines before heading to the ritual site – a journey they would need to take on foot as the going was too rough for the cars. As they travelled Brakken said that he was pleased to see them, and said that he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them and the example they had set. Spurred to act with greater bravery, he volunteered for active duty, no longer satisfied with the deskbound role of a diplomat, and was sent by the Ber’s secret service to track down and infiltrate Pemberton’s organisation. But now he saw that the greater enemy was the Obscurati, and had sensed enough of the dragon’s emotions to know that he could be trusted as an ally. Unable to contact the Bruse, he had decided to act on his own initiative and work to defeat the Ob by revealing himself to Pemberton and coming up with a plan. “It felt a bit desperate and risky. But now that you’re here, I think our idea might work,” he said.</p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>End of Session</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="gideonpepys, post: 7517306, member: 79141"] [b]Session 202, Part Two - Pemberton Industries, Axis Division[/b] On their way to Axis Island, they reprised their philosophical debate with Rutger Smith from five years earlier. Kieran Sentacore joined in too. Both had once been firm adherents of the Panoply, and remained sympathetic to the politics of that movement, but each had undergone a crisis of sorts on learning that William Miller, the group’s founder, was none other than Nicodemus himself. Yes, the rational thing to do (as Korrigan often reminded them) was to divorce Miller and his teachings from what he had become, but this was not satisfying on an emotional level. Rumdoom’s interjections on eschatology had been all-but ignored last time round. The conversation had been dominated by Smith and Malthusius. But Uriel, on this occasion, was uncharacteristically silent, and Rumdoom’s confidence had grown, and now he warmed to the subject. Eschatology, he said, was focused on the end of things, but Rumschatology was all about control. “Control of the end,” Sentacore nodded sagely, filling a blank he imagined Rumdoom had left to show he had understood. “No, control of everything,” Rumdoom insisted, leaning in close. He told them about his newly developed power to issue a ‘fiat’ that altered fate, a much broader application of his trusty knack for good endings. The implication was clear – Rumdoom wondered how close his branch of eschatology came to the global control now imposed by the Ob. Both Sentacore and Smith sought to reassure him – of course he wasn’t as bad as them, he wasn’t trying to control everything and everyone. But Rumdoom rejected their mollifications and insisted that maybe he was. Gupta had not joined them for dinner. She spent the journey in her berth, applying the divination magic of Nicodemus’ ring to everyone they knew, including Korrigan (just in case…). Approaching the island from the south, they slowed down and made their presence clear, sailing close to a lookout point on a small isthmus to the east. About an hour after that, two dots appeared in the sky, the dots grew steadily, and minutes later they were buzzed by two flying machines, each occupied by a pair of gnolls: a pilot in goggles and a leather cap; and a ‘spotter’ equipped with binoculars. Having identified them – they flew the Risuri flag and the easily recognisable unit made no attempt to hide – the fliers buzzed away. Uru suggested that they sneak onto the island using the undersea entrance through the mines, just like last time, but Korrigan preferred a more direct approach. Although wary of Danoran involvement, they took the Coaltongue round to the north, and sailed right up to the fortress, dropping anchor just out of artillery range. They could see that Pemberton had greatly augmented the defences along the wall. His flags now fluttered over the fort. Eventually, Pemberton appeared on the battlements, and addressed them using a magical ‘macrophone’ similar to the one Korrigan had recently commissioned. He welcomed them and asked them what they wanted. Korrigan explained that they had come to parley, and that they hoped to find common ground in this new age. Pemberton sought and received reassurances that they did not intend to take the island. Korrigan pointed out that he had left his fleet behind. Pemberton took a moment to consider this, then he invited them in. Korrigan said he would go alone, but Pemberton refused to allow them to come without the Coaltongue. If anything, the Risuri flagship would serve as proof of their reciprocal trust. (If he couldn’t take them out, he could certainly sink the Coaltongue. …) The great sea gates open and they sailed in, through walls and past stone wharfs crowded with heavily armed gnolls. (Korrigan was slightly disappointed to find that the Rites of Rulership did not extend here. No people, no power.) When they disembarked, they saw bloody smears everywhere, and each gnoll had a freshly blood-stained muzzle. (Gnolls were not known for taking prisoners.) Through this fetid, flyblown atmosphere came Pemberton, dressed in a sharp, white suit, and accompanied as always by the sniggering Pardo. Gupta made sure to keep herself in Pemberton’s line of sight. She had done something different with her hair. Pemberton overlooked this for now, and led them to a table with a commanding view of the harbour, where they were served limeade and sat down to talk. Pemberton wondered how they knew he had taken the island. Korrigan’s response was cagey. Pemberton was cagey too, when discussing his own plans, but was frankly dismissive of the king’s offer to join forces and try to hold on to the island. They weren’t just up against Danorans now – the whole world was arrayed against them. Pemberton’s small force was effective, yes, but no match for the armies of nations. This was frustrating for Korrigan who could not stand the idea of letting go of such a valuable territory. He pressed the issue, and the conversation stalled momentarily. “What do you plan to do when the Danorans come?” he asked in exasperation. “I plan to get the hell out of here,” said Pemberton. “But by then I hope to have the answers I came for.” Then he invited the king and his entourage to lay down their burdens for a time, and come to explore the island with him – specifically, the site of the ritual seal, where it was clear things hadn’t gone according to the Obscurati’s plan. On the way, he would introduce them to another of his guests, a ‘mutual friend’ who had only recently decided that Pemberton “wasn’t so bad after all”. Together, they had come up with a little plan that the unit might find interesting. This mystery guest was none other than Brakken of Heffinata, who had infiltrated Pemberton’s forces on behalf of the nation of Ber. “I thought he was big for a gnoll! But it turned out to be a very clever mind trick.” Right now, Brakken was out with an elite party of gnolls searching the island for Ob survivors. Pemberton was confident that nothing on the island could pose a threat to the unit, but there were odd planar fluctuations and he didn’t want to risk any more of his loyal subjects. So this trip would only include the unit, Pardo and Pemberton himself (both of whom were obviously in duplicant form.) It was a few miles to where Brakken was searching, but handily the Obscurati built roads, so Pemberton offered to drive them in his experimental steam-powered road cars. These vehicles had a very industrial aesthetic with lots of exposed metal, no roofs and no windows; Pemberton hadn’t gotten around to gussying them up yet, but of course for public production they would have fine upholstery and leather seats. Since each car only had four seats, Pemberton gave the unit a quick lesson in how to drive them. Uru was excited to learn, but torn: Pemberton had agreed that he and Wondermaker could stay behind and lend their expertise to his ‘latest bit of tech’. Both were eager to learn more about the ‘dragon-fliers’ they had seen earlier. (“Take a look around at your leisure. Just don’t go near the central keep. My subjects get touchy when strangers approach my lair.”) So Uru would not get to drive a car – that task fell to Gupta and Thurgid Ironspoon. (Rumdoom and his entourage would squeeze into one car; Gupta, Quratulain and Uriel took a second; Korrigan joined Pemberton and Pardo.) Transmission was a bit awkward right now, but after a few minutes they got the hang of it and caravanned out of the fort. “I should thank you,” said Pemberton as they drove, shouting over the noise of the engine, “for giving me the idea to take this place when we last met up on Macdam. I never thought the chance would arise, but I’m nothing if not an opportunist. Say, you must tell me how it went down with She Who Writhes.” Korrigan explained that she wasn’t the only titan they had dealt with recently – all but the Voice of Rot, in fact. “Four titans?” hollered Pemberton. “If I’d known that, I’d have thought twice about letting you in here! You know, I once had a run-in with the Father of Thunder. This was in my youth, of course. I heard he was up and about, and I thought to myself, ‘Grady, it’d be a damned shame not to take a crack at the old son of a gun before whichever king was in charge of Risur put him back to sleep’. I tell you, that horny bastard did not appreciate me strafing his herd. Zapped me good!” Then he shook his head in amazement and repeated, “Four of ‘em!” The four-mile drive to the island’s central valley should only have taken a few minutes, but as the cars neared a mining village, trouble struck at a sort of parking lot for industrial machines. They heard a lumbering crash of metal and felt an unwelcome presence in their minds. A few hundred feet out they spotted a twenty-foot tall construct lumber into view from behind a crane, headless but with some wispy tendrils trailing upward from the cracked hole between its shoulders. Pemberton clapped his hands once with excitement and gunned the car’s engine, driving straight for the golem. “This damned monster killed a half-dozen of my subjects. Now I hate to ask a favour of my guests, but I’m about to drive very close to it, so if you would be so kind to do what you’re good at?” They did just exactly that, with Pardo lending a hand, while Pemberton enjoyed spinning the car around the battlefield. Gupta switched to hybrid form to make the most of her feline reflexes, weaving between obstacles while Quratulain focused on shooting the golem. Korrigan took to the air and issued orders. It turned out that the golem was currently host to a hivemind, capable of weakening their mental resolve, and lashing them with psychic tendrils. When it tried to control Gupta she shrugged it off (thanks to Korrigan’s crown) and identified its mental ‘scent’ – formed from the psyches of the very Ob loyalists they were looking for. The hivemind was difficult to get at; the golem was tough to damage and leaked huge, necrotic pools of witchoil. Rumdoom leapt through the air and knocked it prone. Korrigan remembered how they had dealt with such thoughtforms in the past and he attacked it with his mind – yanking it out of its construct armour and then solidifying it. Quratulain redoubled her onslaught now that it was vulnerable and blew the hivemind to pieces. Once it was gone, the golem staggered about a bit and then grew still. Once the commotion of battle died down, Brakken and a squad of gnolls emerged from the nearby jungle. Brakken was mentally exhausted, having focused all of his psychic powers to keep the hivemind from sensing them. He gave a cheery wave to the unit, then rushed to the body of the monster. He held a hand out to it and concentrated, then announced that he had a sense of where it came from – one of the mines a quarter mile up the mountain. Gupta confirmed his guess that it had been formed by Obscurati hold-outs. They decided to detour up to the mines before heading to the ritual site – a journey they would need to take on foot as the going was too rough for the cars. As they travelled Brakken said that he was pleased to see them, and said that he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them and the example they had set. Spurred to act with greater bravery, he volunteered for active duty, no longer satisfied with the deskbound role of a diplomat, and was sent by the Ber’s secret service to track down and infiltrate Pemberton’s organisation. But now he saw that the greater enemy was the Obscurati, and had sensed enough of the dragon’s emotions to know that he could be trusted as an ally. Unable to contact the Bruse, he had decided to act on his own initiative and work to defeat the Ob by revealing himself to Pemberton and coming up with a plan. “It felt a bit desperate and risky. But now that you’re here, I think our idea might work,” he said. [B] End of Session[/B] [/QUOTE]
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