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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Orichalcum" data-source="post: 891026" data-attributes="member: 3722">Second Session: Saturnalia Fourth Post: Spirit-talkingThe eyes of the Spirit of the Games, which have been roaming restlessly across the angry mob, focus on Heilyn, who is the only person in the stadium looking up at it. Heilyn is overwhelmed by a voice which sounds like the thunder of a crowd cheering yet which speaks only to him: “SPIRIT-TALKER. YOU CAN SEE ME.”    “Indaid, great Spirit. Ah....you seem to be somewhat out of sorts.”    “THE GAMES HAVE BEEN VIOLATED.” the voice booms like the sound of hooves.  “I HAVE BEEN WRONGED. THE GUILTY MUST BE PUNISHED.”    “Well, I think they already are. I belaive their heads are over that way...” Heilyn responds, a bit confused.    “MY RACERS WERE THE VICTIMS, NOT THE GUILTY. THE DEATH OF THE WHITE CHARIOTEER WAS NOT NATURAL. IT WAS AN OFFENSE AGAINST THE GAMES.”    “I’m terribly sorry to hear that...” Heilyn responds, still edging his way out of the arena.    “YOU WILL FIND THE GUILTY AND BRING THEM FOR ME TO PUNISH,” the Spirit of the Games announces to Heilyn, sounding resolved.    “Why me???” Heilyn panics.    “WHO ELSE BETTER?” At this crucial moment, Heilyn fails to come up with an answer.     “I WILL NOT REST EASY UNTIL THIS HAS BEEN AVENGED. WORK QUICKLY, SPIRIT-TALKER.”    And with that, large hailstones begin pelting the crowd, which rapidly disperses in terror. Heilyn’s comrades begin to notice that the hailstorm is somewhat oddly centered directly over the arena, although it is rapidly spread radially outward. We all leave, quickly, and regroup somewhat later at the house of Drusus and Petronilla.    Heilyn tells the rest of the humans about the Spirit of the Games’ request, and urgently requests their assistance. While Marcus initially balks at obeying a strange spirit whom only Heilyn can see, the extremely unusual weather conditions which continue to percolate throughout Londinium rapidly convince him. Rain is now pouring down, and lightning has already struck the walls of the legionary fortress. If the weather does not stop, the Thames will likely overflow its banks within a day. The group bundles up in their wool cloaks and trudge back to the now-deserted stadium to search for clues; I hide in the folds of Meloch’s tunic, terrified of hailstones larger than my head.       After an extensive search of the track by Llyr, Marcus, Meloch, and Wena, a small lead curse tablet is found shallowly buried in the now-muddy sand, just about at the point where the White chariot spontaneously disintegrated. Cornelia is able to read the Celtic magical runes, away from Metellus’s notice, and discover that the tablet specifically commands that, in the third lap, great doom fall upon Gallus Agnorix, the charioteer of the White team. Meloch announces to the group that the tablet bears the signs of reasonably powerful necromantic magic.    Wena uses her ability to divine the history of an object and gains the following useful information: An Iceni male child, Chaotic Neutral in alignment, with good tendencies, received the tablet as well as some money, and placed it in the sand. He got it from a Lawful Evil adult Roman male, who bought it from a female adult Chaotic Neutral (leaning evil) Catavellauni woman, who created it.        With this narrow a track of owners,  the humans decide to pursue the path back directly. They go to the stables, and after a little enquiring locate Gwynthar, a young Iceni stableboy who reluctantly admits that he was paid money to place a tablet in the sand, which was supposed to help his heroine, Thyra of the Iceni. While Heilyn lectures the boy strongly about getting involved in evil spiritual duties, Cornelia defends him, arguing that he didn’t realize that his actions would result in the deaths of three charioteers, not to mention countless other people swept up in the mob.      Gwynthar is deeply traumatized that the tablet caused Thyra’s death, and promises to help them as much as possible. Unfortunately, all he knows about the person who gave them the curse tablet is that it was a tall, fair, Roman man with a sharp nose. However, Wena sets up a mindlink between herself, the boy, and Marcus, whose infallible memory has proved helpful to the group several times already. The mindlink is held for a moment before Marcus nods, his face breaking out into a slow, savage smile. “It’s Titus Minucius, the tribune who betrayed my Legion in the wilds of Caledonia. I’m certain of it. And he’s here in Londinium.”</blockquote>

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