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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 1377048" data-attributes="member: 227">While the rest of the band loitered in the gloomy, gaslit laboratory, Kale and Ebri sloped away ahead up the staircase. The mages continued to wander around the alchemical and arcane equipment that littered the room, though more wary and alert in their actions now, while Ansas 'Turi curiously hunkered down by the wreckage of the Crystal Eye and sifted through it. Jarvis stood quiet and still like a statue as they waited for the scouts to return. * * *The staircase ascended into deep gloom as they paced quietly up it, but soon it opened up into a large, shadow-shrouded room bereft of any features other than doors leading off and a walkway running high across one wall. Ebri could hear, through her earring, more faint noises that indicated conversation, echoing through from one of the metal doors that led onwards. Tracks wound through the dust on the floor; heavy passage was evident, and it appeared a fair amount of movement had gone between some of the doors of this room. The door from which Ebri could hear others was one such entrance that seemed to have been travelled through frequently. Putting on the umbramantic ring, the heavy shadows shifted and wrapped themselves around Kale, a protective, cool cloak of darkness following his movements and diffusing his shape. Ebri took one of the shadowskins out, the globe feeling slick and cold to the touch, and pressed it against her arm; quickly it spread across her skin like dark mercury, completely covering her in the shifting layer of shadows that made her almost invisible in the darkness of the chamber. Looking at her, the only part that Kale could distinguish was the two lighter patches of shadow that must have been her eyes. Onwards they crept through the dim, cold interior of the tower, moving through several rooms and corridors, staircases and galleries as they approached the source of the noise. Some rooms were damp and metal, encrusted with rust, others consisting of chill stone. Some were lined with hissing, searing pipes of brass and steel, radiating warmth as they conveyed steam to the upper reaches of the structure and its arcane machinery. Strange and eldritch engines sat bulkily in the corners of forgotten chambers, occasionally humming or glimmering. And as they moved through the confusing honeycomb of rooms in the upper levels of the war tower, they came closer to their destination, the source of what Ebri could hear. Somehow it seemed, she had picked up the faintest strains of conversation that echoed and whispered its way all the way down to the crystal laboratory. And then they found them. The passsageway opened into wide stairs leading forth into a dark but large room, stone debris scattered across the floor where it had fallen from an ornate stone gallery looking over it. Further portals lead forth into other corridors, but in the center of the room were a dozen Carthagians, the scene lit by flickering lamps that they had brought with them. Ten were in the garb and dress of scouts, light leather and chain armour and bearing crossbows and spears. They sat and lounged around on a number of supply crates and pieces of camp gear, resting on fallen stone blocks and strolling around the place. Another man stood with more authority and importance than the rest, clad in tough travelling garb and with a longsword strapped across his back and a short sword on his hip. Also hanging from his belt were the various pouches, charms and paraphernalia that many arcanists carried with them. The final man was huge and his features hidden, clad as he was in red and black heavy plate armour that sprouted an array of barbs and blades, and the double-axes of Toran emblazoned on the breastplate. It was very similar to the priest that Kale and Burl had encountered in Halstath, though this warrior clenched a massive barbed mace in his armoured gauntlets. The warrior-mage was speaking to his subordinates who were gathering up their equipment. Directions were being handed out to pack up and move the supplies through a large, round metal door that was wide open across the other side of the chamber, more stairs leading up beign visible through it. Men were hurriedly now arming themselves in readiness for action of some sort. All the while the massive armoured warrior simply stood as if unperturbed by the activity all around him. Yet they did not see either Ebri or Kale watching them from the entrance into the chamber, garbed in shadows as the pair were.Twelve... Ebri counted silently. And unsuspecting, apparently. One arcanist; one cleric of Toran. Her eyes moved upward naturally towards the gallery above the room. A natural place from which to stage an attack-- if the Carthagians were merely resting. Unfortunately it seemed that they were on the move, or about to be... Upwards. Toward the upper part of the tower, where it was most likely their quarry lay. With so much bustle of crates and packing, we are unlikely to be heard if we remain quiet... And that led to the question... For whom were the crates? Had the others looted the Tower already? Were they bringing supplies to the tower's occupant, in collusion with him? Were they also doing 'research'? These questions flitted through her mind in orderly fashion as she watched, observing the Toranite cleric in particular. Was he meditating? Or, had he, like her, achieved a certain amount of stillness and discipline and control? She drew near to Kale, drawing him back from the door with a slight pressure on his arm, and breathed in his ear. "Observe the gallery... We must prevent them from reaching the upper regions before us... Shall we engage them and draw them back towards the others? Follow and pick them off? One of us go back while the other remain?" Ebri deferred to the leader's expertise in tactics, undecided as to what she would prefer. For the Tower, interesting as it was -- it made her intensely curious, particularly about the Umbral culture-- was not as important as her mission regarding Melisande. Yet the Carthagians were a definite risk, if not handled well... * * *"What are they going to do if they find anyone?" Sebastion muttered, almost to himself, as he finally beckoned for the group to start moving. "They can hardly just charge in to attack, for we've no more right to be here than anyone else. But if they are attacked, we are a long way behind to offer support...." This, he decided, pacing relentlessly up the staircase, is why he preferred the clean environs of a well-defined battlefield. "Let's try not to let them get too far ahead then," Mel concluded, moving up the stairs with Wyshira and Meg'anna close by, just as she'd been instructed to do. "If they run into another defense mechanism they'll need us, and if it's the Carthagians I hardly expect less. My ex-compatriots are unlikely to want to share the secrets of this tower with any old group of adventurers who happens along at the same time. Say, that is a strange coincidence, don't you think? It could be that the Truth-Seekers are up to more than just seeking truth, if they're vying with Toranites for certain technologies. Gosh, I wonder if there's another big war brewing. Oh, sorry." Suddenly she bit her lip, realizing a few moments too late they were supposed to be moving with some degree of stealth. Hopefully they were far enough behind Kale and Ebri that her voice would not carry. But presently she started up again, in a whisper this time: "I wouldn't be surprised if it was another Naseria-Carthagia war in the making. And think! The whole outcome may depend on us, right now! Whoever brings home the secrets of the Arcanist's tower will make the critical difference that tips the scales. We're historical!""We're on the right side of this, I think. It's more likely Naseria will use the technology for peaceful purposes. I wonder if there's any way to stop the Toranites without having to kill them.""If we could find out exactly what they think they're looking for and then trick them into thinking they found it, maybe they'd go away. The Master of the tower might be able to help us do that. We have to reach him first!"Her light, clear whisper was a soothing comfort in the background of Sebastion's adrenalin heightened senses; he smiled slightly at the vague hints of romanticism that came through, one person's action setting off an entire war between nations. There was a moment's pause in Melisande's stream of words."Er, you probably ought to know--I think one of the Carthagians here may be my old mentor from the Manip labs, Professor Akarsis. That was his horse outside. I think he'll recognize me. We could turn that to our advantage, or it might make him really mad. I'm not sure." Mel found herself biting a sheepish lip again. She might have told them earlier--like before Kale and Ebri Zol went off alone--but at least she was telling them now. CHICKEN BRAINED BLOODY WOMAN!!!! Sebastion screamed in his head, only the tension of the situation keeping his jaw clamped shut as his nostrils flared slightly. "You didn't think to mention this before we came in? To perhaps share what you know of him with the rest of us?" he asked, jaw cletching his teeth together in frustration. For a moment he was tempted to send her to the back of the line where she would not be seen, but that served no-one. "Quickly, then... I'll assume he is of sufficient rank to likely be the leader. What sort of man is he? Thoughtful, flamboyant, impulsive...? You should talk to the wizards about his magic, too - they might be able to come up with something to neutralise him." It was the way you dealt with a swordsman, after all - analyse his personality, analyse his technique, and adopt a strategy... if he didn't use his magic as a weapon so much the better, but if he did it would be nice to at least be close to ready. If it degenerated to a fight at all. Somehow, that thought didn't feel particularly reassuring. "I was worried you'd make me stay outside or something," Mel mumbled sullenly, taking Sebastion's terse tone to heart. I can almost hear him thinking how chicken-brained I am, the chauvinist. "But the fact is, I don't know how he'd react to seeing me and until I decided how to deal with him I preferred to be along with you in here, instead of relegated to camp watch, which is exactly what you'd have done with me and don't try to deny it.""I've been thinking it over. Professor Akarsis is a hard man to read. It's like he never showed any emotion at all while I worked with him--he was never angry but never happy either. In fact I don't think he sees things in terms of good or bad, just in terms of efficient and inefficient. So on the one hand, he might find it useful for me to show up and offer to 'help', but he might still be annoyed about the big mess I made the day I got fed up and decided to leave the lab. It's really impossible to predict how he'll react." She turned slightly, hanging back, to be sure the wizards could hear. "At any rate he is a Manipulator, and quite a good one, which means he knows a wide range of spells that can affect physiology, offensively and defensively. If he is here with some of the lab staff there may also be necromancers and even priests of Toran with him.""I could try to make the Carthagians believe I was sent as backup or to check on them, as some sort of secret service agent from the Church of Toran, but then again they're not stupid." That didn't sound right. "I mean, it would be complicated and dangerous. But it would be a chance to find out what they're after, and maybe lead them off the track." * * *The shadow trick was a nice one, Kale wondered if Ebri thought the same of his little ring. He almost forgot the tension between himself and the mysterious woman, with the intriguing challenge that waited below. "The light doesn't help," Kale quietly whispered rhetorically. "We can bring the crew up closer, and wait until they encounter more defenses from ahead before we show ourselves." He hardly even gave breath to the words, hiding as the two were in the dark iron hallway. But that powerful earring... was sure to cause trouble later. Kale's mind snapped back to the present. Wait for the Toranites to find bigger trouble. Rock and a hard place- Kale had no big inclination to talk before attacking, but if the Toranites wished to surrender unconditionally... "Send for the others, and we can wait for our chance to act..." he whispered to Ebri.She nodded. "If you are detected, shout--I will hear, and we will all come with due speed." With that, she was gone, travelling back down the hallways as quickly and quietly as she could do both. ..."We have found the Toranites... she announced, giving a brief summary of their numbers and location. "They are moving upwards and carrying crates of some sort. Kale would like us to meet him, and we will encounter them from a place of advantage. Quickly..."Cazamir frowned at the mention of followers of Toran, who were never pleasant to deal with. They were a dark reflection of Lord Urazel, mixing the dedication of warfare with their sinister practices. He had heard many stories of the wars waged by the Carthagians. “This could end in a pitched battle. Is there no way past them?” He frowned, weighing the choices. He turned, speaking more to the sages than the female. “If they have numbers, we will need a show of strength to make them think against conflict. Otherwise they’ll look to capture or kill those they find.”"Frankly, I do not know what Kale's plans are: we had little time for discussion. Ebri replied, taking advantage of her shadow-shrouded invisibility to observe Cazamir unguarded. And his tattoo. Her order had given up tattooing as a sign centuries before in favor of more subtle markers, but they kept records of those of other groups. She described the nature of the room and the gallery above quickly. "But they are moving upward, if not now, then shortly. To me the issue is one of speed. For we do not know their intentions, but in all likeliehood their plans either counter or equal ours-- and so we must either prevent them from reaching the upper parts of the Tower, or reach it before them if we are to accomplish our goal." Or goals, she thought. There were clearly several aims among this band. But unity of purpose was what was to be stressed at the moment. Sebastion listened to both the words of both Cazamir and Ebri before replying. "Will it come to a pitched battle? Perhaps, perhaps not. Mel's description of this Akarsis makes him sound calculating, and I doubt he'd want to risk a pitched battle until he knew something about us - which gives us the opportunity to do the same, I suppose.""Make an issue of being on the stairwell, send in a small group openly to greet them, and the rest of us remain out of sight as a back-up... if things turn ugly we can be there quickly, if they are friendly we can confess to having been cautious." "Well, we were just discussing what to do with the Carthagians, actually," Mel added conversationally, poking at the dark patch where Ebri Zol's voice had come from, and thinking she had an even better surprise in return. With that, she proceeded to explain to Ebri all she had just told the others about her former mentor. "Did you see a tall, thin man with goggles and a sort of contraption on his back? I'm sure that was his horse outside.""I'm sure they wouldn't just shoot me if I showed up, if it is my old mentor. He'd at least want to know why I was there. I could pretend to have been sent to keep an eye on them, or to help out or something, and then I could find out more about why they're here and even maybe slow them down. I hate to have to lie, but if it's to avoid a futile fight, I could at least leave out certain salient bits of truth.""What do you think, Ebri? Sebastion and--and Cazamir could come with me and pose as my bodyguards." She smiled eagerly, feeling brave and useful again, but one hand slipped into her pocket and gave a gentle but firm pinch to the woefully lamenting amphibian within. "No bodyguards could help you, with such a plan..." Ebri answered, taking a moment to digest the news and the current situation... If they were proper bodyguards they would restrain you until good sense returned... she thought, wondering once more how she was to be a proper bodyguard to this bewildering woman. "In short, I think no. How many times have I said that to plan in advance of information is both misleading and a waste--" She broke off, letting them hear her frustration. "There is not time for that discussion. I saw no such man. Their arcanist is a warrior. And they are getting ahead of us. Whether we fight them or find a way round them, it will be meaningless if they reach the Tower's Master before us--"Melisande stiffened, Ebri's sharp tone bringing back an uncomfortable memory of her acid-tongued mother. Which of course triggered a sullen, girlish shrillness to her defiance."Then we have to push ahead quickly and do something. And--and--I hope Akarsis is with them, but even if not I am Carthagian and we will have to face them on some terms at some point, and I mean, I mean, it's less likely they'll shoot at me than at someone obviously un-Carthagian... Er, I know most Carthagians aren't blue, but--but--some of them may know me if they were Akarsis' colleagues at least.""And unless you plan on just killing them all, somebody's going to have to talk to them, and I think it should be me!" Four bulbous and desperate eyes appeared at the lip of her pocket then. If one of those cairns they'd seen was for Akarsis, that changed things. That changed a lot of things for Pierre. But it didn't change his instinct for self-preservation, and all he really understood was that she was up to something she considered "brave" again. A flipper flailed out, as if flagging for help. "Ladies," Sebastion whispered, raising a hand to be sure he had their attention, "the volume?" Having got their attention, he paused a moment, and then continued. "If we lie to them we will spend the rest of our time either on edge, or fighting with them. If we all pile in together and state our purpose, we expose everything and give them the advantage, if they are hostile. I say we send representatives to let them know we're here, and keep people in reserve. After all, we have no more right to be here than they.""Except me!" Melisande retorted. "As far as they're concerned, I have no right to be outside Carthagia. I'm a deserter. Even if Akarsis is not with them, someone may recognize me--you know, for some reason, people don't seem to forget my face--and I have to have a story. Or else I have to be invisible, or wait outside.""Which is why," Mel concluded, flushed from annoyance, "I didn't want to tell you he was here in the first place. So we either lie or keep me concealed. Because I'm not waiting outside." * * *As Kale watched, the Carthagians finished stowing away their equipment, men lugging crates through the far door and up the stairs into the highest reaches of the tower. As the last of their equipment was carried up, the mage and the Toranite followed, casting suspicious and wary glances behind them; yet they still failed to see the shadow-shrouded form of the Corinthian man. By the time that the rest of the band arrived once more, the darkly glimmering form of Ebri in her shadowskin leading them up, the wide chamber was empty, its former inhabitants having moved on. "We're near the top of the structure now," Johanne said quietly, his pathfinder nodding at this assessment. "Not much higher up we can go. So those Carthagians really can't have gotten very far ahead of us. There just isn't much more building for them to travel through. Which also means they must be close themselves to the master of this tower, assuming he is at the top..."Next Time: A surprise from the shadows, and frantic negotiations...</blockquote>

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