For the Love of Tomeri...(23June2004)

[Mathew_Freeman]

Hang on, I'm sure I made sure I had a copy of the map before I went back to the town...I wanted to make sure I had some sort of proof of what the modrons were planning to do.

Note: simmo doing modrons is incredibly frustrating. He brings off the whole monotonous, uncaring, perfectly logical thing really, really well. And you have to be very careful not to let him sidetrack you.

 

[simmo]

Part 12 If the Modrons Want to March You'd Better Let Them

chapter 1 Serena and Malkir at Haven, When the Walls Came Down

Chaos and panic reigned in the city of Haven. The news of the approaching modrons had spread like wildfire and the evacuation was already well under way. Unfortunately the majority of the ships were not in port and by the time they came back, the modrons would have passed through already. Some of the citizens of the colourful port town were less concerned with the march. They believed that the march would simply proceed down the main thoroughfare and across the river. The mayor belonged to this group of people and he'd spent the morning telling everyone to remain calm and to keep off the streets if at all possible.

The mayor was just on his way to meet with the head of the town guard to discuss the protection of Tomeri's holiest shrine in the city, when he spied the new arrivals who'd brought with them a group of Defenders of Tomeri. Whilst their good intentions were honourable, he was somewhat dismayed by how much untoward alarm this would cause to the good citizens of Haven. As he made his way up the street to the large gathering, he began overhear bits of their conversations and his heart sank.

“Large portions of the city where the modrons are going to go, there is no problem for them to be there.” Malkir explained, holding the map of the city for the others to see. “We simply have to clear he areas where they are going. Specific houses and specific sections. We have the man power.”

“What's going on here?” asked the mayor stepping up the mystic and his friends. “What's this all about?” He pushed his way past the warriors with crystal armour and weapons, apologising as he did so.

“Greetings,” said the small seer. “I am Serena Allman, Chosen of Tomeri. I am here to help you.”

“Ah, Chosen of Tomeri.” The mayor was pleased to see that there was someone in a position of authority of these newcomers that he could hold a civilized conversation with. “Welcome to our city. Unfortunately we are in a bit of a mess getting ready for our visitors.”

“Here.” Serena handed him the map, taken from the modrons. “I have a map of the route that the modrons are going to take.”

“This is simply quite unacceptable.” After only a quick glance the aasimar mayor saw that the modrons would not be going straight through the city, but instead splitting off in to smaller and smaller groups before converging at the harbour. “As mayor of this fine city I will not accept them coming down this road and that path will simply not do...”

“Tough mate!” Malkir fought to keep the anger out of his voice. “You simply do not have a choice. There are an almost infinite number of modrons coming towards your city. You do not get a choice where they are going. You simply get a choice of who gets out of the way.” The mystic who normally glowed with health was now seething with righteous anger.

“Can we not negotiate with them?” the mayor asked plaintively.

“I have negotiated,” replied Malkir, who'd reached the end of his patience. “That is why you have got a map.”

“Right...” Began the mayor.

“I'm telling you this map, which I got from a pentadrone, told me that this is the precise route that they are taking.” Malkir pointed to several streets on the map. “You have an opportunity before they get here to move people out of those houses.”

“Right.....” The mayor looked at Serena, hoping that she'd come to his rescue. But she simply crossed her arms and nodded her head in agreement with Malkir.

“The modrons will destroy those houses.” Malkir turned away from the mayor and left him with the map in the faint hope that he'd come to his sense. He could now see the modrons slowly approaching the gate and began to draw up plans for getting people to safety. “I'm afraid that you are not going to get a choice over this. Forget the negotiationsat's myhrough!” The mayor exclaimed. The mystic spun around, grabbed the map out of the startled mayor's hands and walked off.

“Then I'm terribly sorry,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away. “I can probably give you some money to help rebuild it.” If you survive the march, thought Malkir to himself.

Serena called over the commanders of the Defenders of Tomeri and showed them the map. With the help of Malkir and the others they drew up a quick plan of which houses to evacuate and how best to control the rising panic on the streets of Haven. Each of the groups of Defenders selected one of their members to act as runners to keep everyone informed of what was happening.

Caleb, who been staring at the hills for quite some time, caught up with the others after having formulated a plan.

“I'M GOING TO TRY TO BUY YOU SOME TIME.” began Caleb slowly. “IF WE CAN CREATE SOME BOGGY GROUND, THE WATER WILL RUN DOWN THE HILL AND CREATE A SMALL SWAMP. OR SOMETHING.” He scratched his head, and tried to think of how to improve the plan. “IT MAY BE A COMPLETE DISASTER, BUT IT WILL SLOW THEM FOR SOME IME.”

“If they're planning on crossing the river, then some marshy ground is not going to slow them down for long.” Littleby pointed out.

“They're planning on building a bridge across the river.” Andrew clarified. “Building a bridge across the marsh, they can also cross. But it's still going to take time.”

“LITTLEBY,” Caleb said, having managed to expand the plan. “CAN YOU CREATE AN IMPASSIBLE BARRIER ACROSS THE GATE?”

“I'm not sure that a direct barrier is a good idea.” He replied very quietly.

“I think that it is a really helpful plan, but we cannot rely upon it.” Serena was grateful for her friends efforts and wished them well, but was not hopeful of any success.

Malkir set off with the Defenders to clear the houses. Caleb, Littleby and Andrew walked a short distance to the gate to put their plan in tot action and Serena headed for the Healing Heart orphanage.

 

[simmo]

chapter 2 Call that a Swamp?

Standing on the walls of the city, overlooking the nearby hills, Caleb could make out individual modrons several ranks from the front. There seemed to be some kind of chain of command from the simplest modrons at the front to through those who directed them and then all the way to some unseen creature further inside the centre of the march.

However, Caleb was too busy to pay much attention to the marchers themselves. With the help of several priests of Tomeri they'd managed to create a large areas of soft ground with a layer of water on top of it that spread outwards from the gate. Just beneath the water line were areas of spiky ground that they hoped would slow the march further.

As the modrons reached the edge of the swampy ground they continued regardless. Almost as if they were unaware of the obstacle in front of them. Several of the monodrones disappeared beneath the water and did not rise again. A small cheer went up from the priests and soldiers manning the walls. The march reacted quickly by laying down the bridge building material in order to create a ramp up to the city.

Caleb called upon the mighty power of Grumbar to cause an avalanche, so that the front of the march would be halted or even swept away. But Grumbar was uncaring and no miracle was forthcoming. The earth genasi wondered briefly why Tomeri was doing nothing to thwart the modrons. He did not have long to think about it as the modrons were almost at the gate and Littleby was calling for him to get clear of the walls..

Arcs of lighting shot out of the end of Littleby's fingers, striking the gates of the city. Having spent a couple of minutes looking for weak places in their construction, the dwarven necromancer was able to pin point the locations where best to hit them in order to bring them down. Large sections of the gate collapsed, but it did not slow the modrons down. Instead they began to clamber over it and the march had entered Haven.

The dwarven necromancer decided to switch to his secondary plan. He sat down on a stone bench in front of a bakers began to concentrate. As he began the incantation to force his life-energy out of his physical shell and in to the body of a nearby modron, he realised that something was very wrong. Instead of a single life-force, he felt as if he was trying to push himself in to a vast sea of energy and his body responded by going in to convulsions.

A group of modrons split off to go over to the dwarf's still body, but the earth genasi got there first and carried him off quickly. “TOO MUCH BEER, EH. LIITTLEBY?” he joked as he ran down a side-street and was glad to see that they were not being pursued. After placing his friend on the ground and making sure that he was OK, he set off down another narrow road in the hopes of slowing the modrons down and buying his friends some precious extra time.

The earth genasi did not have far to go before coming across one of the sections of the march that was moving down a tree-lined avenue. Caleb tried to force himself to devise a plan quickly and said the first thing that came in to his mind. “YOUR SHOE LACES ARE UNDONE.”

“Your observation does not make sense,” a modron halted and so the ones that it was leading.

“THAT'S WHAT HE TOLD ME,” he said pointing at another modron of similar rank. Caleb was improvising like never before in his life and hoped desperately that it would work.

The two modrons communicated briefly and the second group moved on. “I do not understand the shoe lace. Explain.” It spoke in a flat, metallic mono-tone with no hint of curiosity.

“THE SHOE LACE IS VERY IMPORTANT,” began Caleb speaking very slowly.

“The shoe laces, aha!” The mephits joined in, rushing to the aid of their master. “They will be the end of you, foolish pieces of rusting metal. Scrap buckets of randomness!”

“Explain what the shoe lace does,” the modron commanded, conscious of the fact that it was falling behind the others.

“HE KNOWS,” Caleb again poinilar rank.

“It does not know.” The modron stated after a brief communication with the other modron.

“Can you feel the chaos coming off these Slaad-spawned wind-up toys?” The mephits cavorted in the air, heaping abuse on the modrons. “”They could give chaos imps a run for their money. Ha ha! How many modrons does it take to change a lightbulb? I do not understand lightbulb, explain!”

“I calculate that you are trying to deceive me.” Three tridrones, ten duodrones and twenty monodrones broke away from the main march and headed in Caleb's direction. “Your are interfering with the lawful nature of the march. Such behaviour will not be tolerated. We do not contain chaos. We repel chaos. To speak otherwise is to invite disaster. It is unthinkable to posit that there can be chaos in a modron mind.”

Caleb watched the oncoming modrons for a brief moment and then sprinted away from them. For the normally slow moving earth genasi, he was travelling very fast. Almost as fast as Malkir was capable of running and the mephits were having difficulty keeping up.

“THANKS GUYS,” Caleb said sarcastically to the mephits who were pleasing for their master to slow down.

“Master we were just trying to help.” The ooze mephit had managed to knock the earth mephit out of the way in the race to catch up with the earth genasi. It grabbed hold of one of the rivets on the armour of its master's back and clung on like a leech. “You did a great job of slowing them down, Master. Truly inspired, you were.”

“YOU HAD BETTER KEEP QUIET,” replied Caleb who was unaware of the ooze mephit holding on. “ELSE I WILL COMMAND YOU TO ATTACK THEM.”

“Please no Master.” Pleaded the ooze mephit. “Such an honour is beyond us. We cannot steal the honour of performing such a glorious deed of having slowed down the march. Your genius s sowed confusion in the minds of the modrons slowing them down.” The mineral mephit tried to dislodge the ooze mephit, but it was ready for the attack and knocked it in to the path of the earth mephit. The two mephits tumbled through the air before slowing and then setting off again in pursuit of their master.

The ooze mephit clambered on to Caleb's shoulder and spoke in its usual slimy and whining voice. “Those silly philosophers that we passed were planning the same thing, Master.” Its cackle sounded like someone was drowning. “But now that the modrons have learned their lessons, they will not stand a chance.”

Caleb allowed himself enough time to knock the ooze mephit of its shoulder, past the other two mephits and continued running. Perhaps that will slow down the modrons, he thought with a grin on his face.

 

[simmo]

chapter 3 Let Your Soul be Your Guide

Roxanne wiped her sleeve across her face, trying to hide the tears that she'd shed from the children. The plump half-elven woman was busy organising getting the younger children outside the city walls to a place of relative safety. Ever since the news had reached them that the modrons were coming through the city many of the children had begun crying and Roxanne was rapidly losing her strength to deal with the situation.

She'd heard that a dwarf and a human had talked the modrons in to passing through the library without causing any damage, but she was not willing to run such a risk with the children. A large warrior of stone had dashed in at the last minute to carry off some aged philosophers intent on diverting the mach. When they'd heard the falling masonry and later found out that the Defenders of Tomeri were tearing down houses and shops, even more of the children had begun crying. The half-elven woman had considered telling the children that the buildings were being destroyed to slow down the march, but decided against it.

The one good thing to happen that day was the arrival of a petite woman in a long blue dress wearing a locket of Tomeri. As soon as she stepped in to the large orphanage many of the younger children had stopped crying. It was almost as it the woman had some kind of soothing aura around her that reassured the little ones. Roxanne smiled for the first time that day and was delighted to hear that the woman was going to help get the children to safety.

She said that her name was Serena Allman and that she was looking for children belonging to a man called Kendrick. Roxanne did not recognise the name, but after a brief description of the man she soon identified him as the father of Vincent and Lizzy.

Some of the youngest children had been brought to safety. They were playing beneath the branches of the huge elm tree outside of town, unaware of the chaos now reigning within the port town. The older children who understood more what was going on were forming lines, getting ready to be led out. Some of those slightly younger ones knew that there was something very wrong, but not what it was. They ran around either crying or trying to play as usual and were making life for Roxanne and the other carers very difficult.

The half-elven woman found a few moments to herself and this time did not bother to wipe the tears from her eyes. After all these years the memories were still fresh of watching the fiendish army march across the Outlands to raid her village. A skirmish is what others had referred to it as, but for Roxanne it was the most painful period of her life. Within a matter of hours she lost a loving husband, her three wonderful daughters and many friends and relatives. The memory was so strong and the scars still unhealed that she could not stop herself from crying out in pain.

Even after all these years of working in the orphanage, her nightmares did not go away. Each morning she'd greet the children with a smiling face and worked as hard as she could to make their lives comfortable, safe and happy. But at night as she lay down to sleep, the demons that haunted her dreams came back. Once she'd been visited by a shining figure of light that had cradled her and sang to her. It had been the first time that she'd slept peacefully since the fateful raid.

Stepping out of the doorway where she'd been watching Serena talk to the children and calm them down, she wiped her tears away a final time and began to sing 'For the Love of Tomeri'. The children who sang the song every morning knew the words off by heart and joined in immediately. They formed in to the lines that they stood in each day when they sang praise to Tomeri. The other carers smiled at Roxanne, grateful for her idea in getting the children organised.

Soon the other carers began to lead the children down the streets that the Defenders had made safe and out of the city. Roxanne finished up by searching the remainder of the orphanage to see if there were any children that they'd missed. She was glad to be joined by Serena in her search and as they walked over to the last building, the modrons burst through the wall and in to the courtyard.

A child's scream came from the last building and a small girl stood in the doorway. Malkir came rushing in to the courtyard soon after the modrons had arrived, but Roxanne was already ahead of him. The plump half-elven woman ran with all her might to get to the small girl before the modrons could reach her and felt her ankle twist as she ran. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the pain Roxanne reached the girl moments before the modrons were about to march straight through the building.

Malkir jumped in to action, stepping on to several modrons and leaping over large chunks of broken buildings. He moved quickly over the top of the march, feeling as though he was trying to ride a wild river. Hands, tentacles and other appendages reached out towards him, but he managed to dodge them all.

Roxanne watched the oncoming modrons and the uncaring way in which they trampled everything in their way. Lifting the small girl high in to the air, she flung her in the direction of Malkir hoping that he'd be able to save her. “May Tomeri keep you safe in her arms,” she whispered as the modrons closed in.

The henshin mystic raced across the march and made a final leap in to the air. The small girl laughed as she felt strong arms wrap around her and was delighted in the new game that the adults were playing. Malkir landed on the other side off the march, cut off from Serena with the girl safely in his arms. His back and sides ached a great deal from the landing, but he did not think that any bones were broken.

When he stood up to look across the marching modrons at Serena, he was glad to see that she was safe. Looking in the direction that the march was going he could see that nothing of the last building in the orphanage remained.

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

I really enjoyed this session. It's always nice when a pompous NPC (in this case, the Mayor) is completely bypassed by people that actually know what they're doing (in this case, us).

Littlby's player was missing for the modron attack on Haven, but he later told us that yes, he would have tried to magic jar the march and sow a little confusion. Frankly, the mind boggles at the consequences if he'd been sucessful!

 

[simmo]

The pompous NPC, i.e. the mayor did go ahead in his attempt to negotiate with the modrons. Unfortunately it was not successful and Haven is now looking to recruit a new mayor.

I was glad to hear from Littleby's player that he would have tried to magic jar the modron march, as I was not sure if it was something that he'd do. Unfortunately for him there may be some lasting consequences of trying to force his consciousness in to the mind of a modron. One side effect will be random moments of extreme lawfulness

Randomling has been posting some of Serena's dreams at Randomlingshouse.com/forum and I encourage all players to submit their writings for inclusion in the story hour.


We Interrupt this Adventure to bring you the following visions by Serena Allman...

[Note: this chapter was written by Randomling, who plays Serena Allman]

Adrift in a Sea of Visions

The taste of something cold, and sweet, and unpleasant fills her mouth. Serena Allman opens her eyes. She's lying face up, and the sky is so far above her, the ground so flat and white around her, stretching to every side.

She is alone.

She sits down on her bed, grasping the Garden as she remembers her dream.

She closes her eyes, rolls over, and is up on all fours before she looks again. Now the place she's in is hot, hotter than the Foundry, darker than Hell. She hears the thunderous sound of Caleb's hammer impacting with stone, and instantly she is on her feet and running, the wind sending her hair flying behind her.

"NO," says Caleb's voice, "I DON'T THINK SO," and there is a loud cracking sound above her head. A shaft of light envelops her, and she looks up to see a jagged opening in the darkness above her head. She sees a large, shadowy shape - Caleb? - shambling towards her, but she cannot move. Everything goes white...



She wakes up, a fluttering feeling low down in her stomach. She's curled up in a double bed, the sheets tangled with her feet, one hand under her head, the other lying across her swollen belly. She can hear Daniel's voice echoing from the next room.

The next moment she's on her knees in a pool of bright light, shaking, crying, her belly flat again, her hands sore and, when she looks at them, bleeding. A presence moves above her. She looks up. Eliel is there, her wings beating gently but barely making a sound. The angel smiles, and somewhere nearby the wind sighs. There are no more tears to be shed. Serena shudders, get to her feet, and as Eliel melts away she begins to walk.

She comes to the crystal garden, and Zakar appears beside her, placing one large paw gently on her shoulder. It is bright but cold, and she puts one hand over her friend's paw, feeling his warmth like a torch in a dark place. He turns, looks up, sniffs the air, and his paw twitches on her shoulder. "My lady," he growls, but she never hears his warning because there is a sinking feeling in her stomach and the garden disappears.

For a brief moment, the face of Agar smiles a cold smile. She hears him speak, but not the words, or not all the words. When Agar speaks, he speaks in Nyon's soft low voice. She hears the phrase "need me", the word "converge". Then he meets her gaze. "yes," he says, and she falls again...

More updates coming soon: Littleby starts a new business, Malkir meets an old friend.

 

[simmo]

Part 13 Haven's River, Wider Than a Mile.

chapter 1 Sitting in the Dock at Haven, Watching the Tide Roll In

The great modrons march had passed through the town of Haven leaving broken buildings, a populace displaced and a dozen dead. The modrons had dismantled the remaining ships in the harbour to make up for the materials that they'd used up in front of the city gates. They built the floating bridge across the mile wide river in a very short time and were across in several hours.

It was amazing to watch as the modrons, marching perfectly in step, reached the bridge and each began to walk slightly out of sequence with the next. Such was the precision of the orders filtering down that there was barely any upwards or downwards motion in the floating bridge. Once across on the other side the bridge was cut loose, in accordance with the ancient agreements signed by the founders of Haven when the march first passed through.

Serena and the others met at the dock fronts to look for transportation across the river, but the few boats that had survived the march were on the other side. Residents of the city of Haven were slowly coming back to their city and the boats coming back from the other side of the river were heavily laden with people.

Littleby decided to fly after the modrons and see if they would provide him with information about where the modrons were planning to travel. He rocketed across the river and soon caught up with the end of the march. Swerving in the air to come at them from a side-ways angle, the dwarven scholar was careful not to appear as an incoming attack on the marchers. He landed and ran to catch up with a modron higher up in the hierarchy.

“State the nature of your business.” The five sided modron stated in a flat, metallic mono-tone voice.

“My business is to acquire maps of the standard routes that you will be following through out the planes.” Littleby considered floating next to the modron but decided to keep walking next to it.

“Explain why you wish to have this information.” The creature of metal and flesh demanded.

“To prevent the loss of life,” Littleby replied with a smile.

“Loss of life is irrelevant." The dwarven scholar could almost see the cogs turning inside what passed for the creature's head. "You must provide supplementary reasoning.”

“Also to facilitate your crossing,” Littleby gave up walking and began to float a small distance above the ground. Now that he was not concentrating on avoiding being trampled by modrons he could focus entirely on getting the maps from the modron.

“Calculating parameters....” Again the creature paused and turned in the direction of another modron.

“Alive people tend to defend the places which they dwell,” began Littleby.

“The march is currently not under threat." Having received orders from its superior, the modron focused on the floating dwarf. "There is no reason to provide this information. You are hereby designated potential spy.”

“My dear sir," said Littleby trying to laugh the accusation off. "I am thinking of the future.”

“The future is of no concern. The march will continue as it should.” The modron joined the other marchers, leaving the dwarf to catch up.

“But you do have maps don't you?" Littleby persisted, intent on getting those maps. "You have a standard route and that route is not a secret.”

“There is a standard route." The modron confirmed. "This has been recorded, but this information cannot be divulged to you now.”

“Thank you very much, you have been a... uh, modron.” The dwarven scholar sighed and was about to fly off when he heard the modron address him again.

“Please explain why you are wearing that colour socks?” The modron questioned as Littleby's feet floated in front of it.

“It was a matter of personal choice.” Littleby replied, floating downwards a little bit.

“What influenced your decision to wear these socks?” The creature spoke without any curiosity and Littleby felt as if he were being measured by all of the modrons.

"I'll get back to that in a moment, there is something that I just need to do.” The dwarven scholar rocketed upwards in the air and flew back in the direction of the river.

“Explain the purpose of the gem in your head?” The modron questioned as the dwarf flew off. It passed on the knowledge that it had gathered to its superior who processed it and passed it on to its superior.

Littleby flew back towards the river, over the small village which rested on the opposite bank to Haven. As he flew over it he saw large crowds of people getting ready to sail back in the few remaining small boats. The town had suffered extensive damage and it looked as if there were few buildings still standing.

“They were singly unhelpful in providing us maps.” Littleby reported as he landed in front of the others at the docks.

“Well, good effort.” Malkir smiled, not surprised by the modron's responses.

“Thank you,” Serena said with a smile.

“Anything else?” asked Malkir, wondering if anyone had any plans.

“Well..." Littleby replied in a serious tone. "We could follow the modrons.” The others laughed and watched the first few dozen citizens of Haven arriving back from the opposite side of the river.

“That does rather leave us with the whole crossing the river problem,” Malkir commented.

“Oh come on now," said Littleby trying to raise everyone's spirits. "It's only a bit of water.”

“A bit of water a mile wide,” Malkir replied dryly.

“Don't we need to cross it to get back to Sigil?” Andrew pointed out.

“Yes, there is that,” Malkir conceded, nodding his head.

There was a pause in the conversation as an argument broke out at the docks about who should be allowed in to the boat. Several people were keen to find their relatives on the other side, but there was not enough room for them all in the small boats.

“Swimming is not something that I am particularly good at." Malkir stated. "I can't imagine that Caleb is going to be much good at it either.” Serena laughed at the mental image of the large earth genasi in his metal armour trying to swim. She could clearly picture the large man wading in to the river with his three horrid mephits shouting encouragement in the high pitched whining voices.

“We can use the same route as last time.” Littleby said, referring to the boats. Serena gave him a pointed look after glancing over at the packed boats.

“WATER IS NOT GOOD,” Caleb stated realising that the others were talking about crossing the river again.

“So if we head to Sigil, hub of all information, to find out what the route was last time." Littleby stated, diverting the flow of conversation away from boats and water. "Then we can look it up and intercept them at various points.”

“HOW DO WE GET BACK?” asked Caleb, who was still thinking about the mile wide river.

A small squad of Defenders of Tomeri marched past, wearing blue crystal breastplates, helmets and carrying crystal swords. They were escorting a number of town guards who had refused to move from a holy shrine of Tomeri and their actions had almost cost the lives of many people. Some of the Defenders still had their hands changed in to claws and Serena could feel the powerful psychic auras that surrounded of psychic warriors.

“Zakar," Serena asked. "Can you swim?”

“Yes, my lady.” The hound archon answered in his growling voice somewhat reluctantly.

“Well...” began Serena, but she was interrupted by Littleby.

“Ah, it looks like I've found a means to cross the river.” Littleby moved his hands performing intricate gestures and using his Craft to draw eldrich energy in to a disk-shaped bubble of force. The disk was three feet in diameter and floated a couple of feet off the ground. He briefly explained to the his companions that he could easily transport them across the river on the disk of force.

“NO," Caleb shook his head, not impressed by the floating disk. "FLYING IS A BAD WAY TO TRAVEL.”

“There is always the immobility of Caleb,” the dwarven scholar laughed having realised the flaw in his brilliant plan.

“He was in the boat before," Malkir reminded the others. "He was even rowing.”

“No, you don't say.” Littleby muttered sarcastically. Several people had wandered over to Littleby and the others intrigued by the alternative way to cross the river. “Ladies and Gentlemen, transport across the river will be arranged shortly." Littleby smiled, enjoying a private joke. "We apologise for the delay.”

A sudden thought occurred to the dwarven scholar and he turned to address the earth genasi.

“Caleb, how would you feel about going under the river." He made a motion with his hand like a bird diving. "Through the earth.”

“EARTH IS A GOOD WAY TO TRAVEL,” Caleb replied unsure of what his friend might be suggesting.

“Very well.” Littleby took out his spellbook and leafed through the large pages.

"HOW DO YOU PROPOSE TO MAKE THAT POSSIBLE?" Caleb had visions of Littleby possessing his body to make this work and was already set against the idea.

"You will gain the power of a xorn.” Littleby said with a smile, after slamming his tome shut.

“I'M NOT SURE THAT I WANT TO BE A XORN.” Caleb's mental image was replaced with Littleby transforming him in to a three eyed, three armed and legged earth genasi with his mouth in the top of his head.

"You will not be one," the dwarven scholar reassured him, "You will be an earth genasi, but you'll have the power of a xorn.”

“WILL I GET THREE HANDS?” asked Caleb, who was having difficulty dislodging the mental image that felt like it was carved in stone.

“To tell you the truth," Littleby replied with a shrug. "I have not actually cast this spell before.”

Serena laughed and so did the mephits. Bored with their debate on the origins of Spire Butterflies the mephits had returned to their master in the hopes of finding some excitement. When they heard the dwarf's suggestion of their master moving like a xorn, they all shouted their encouragement. “Go on master, only you are brave enough to try it. Go on master, show them how it's done.”

"I SUPPOSE THAT I CAN DO THAT,” Caleb was not swayed by his mephit servants. But after considering the alternative ways to get to the other side of the river, travelling through the ground sounded like a positively good idea. Even if he did end up with three eyes, legs and arms.

“Come on Caleb," Malkir stated adding his support. "Surely it's the sort of thing that you would be eager to try.”

“YES," agreed Caleb. "I WILL DO IT.” Once he'd decided to cross the river by travelling underneath it, his choice became as immobile as a mountain range.

“Very well," Littleby replied with a sigh of relief.

“Wow," Malkir joked. "He's almost cracking a smile there.”

 

[simmo]

chapter 2 Littleby's Famous Ferry

When the boat loads of people from the other side of the river arrived, they were greeted by friends and relatives. The docks were full of people exchanging news of what went on during the time that the modrons were in town. Tales of exploits of a tall warrior of stone, a lightning fast mystic in white robes and a beautiful angel in a blue dress helping to protect the city were spreading like wildfire.

Several groups of people approached Littleby and his floating disk of force, hoping to hire his services in escorting them to the other side of the river. An elven noblewoman and her entourage pushed their way to the front, ahead of a group of boisterous dwarves. Behind them were two knights and their minotaur companions, as well as a silent elf. At the end of the line stood a fat, broad shouldered goblin who was watching the proceedings with open fascination.

Littleby suggested that they should send a runner to the library to find out if there were any tunnels under the river and Malkir volunteered to go. Serena and Zakar went to look for High Priest Geffen who had his hands full getting the city back on its feet. Caleb sat on the dock front polishing his hammer, with the mephits playing a card game that involved summoning monsters, casting enchantments and defeating the other players.

“What do you think Andrew?” Littleby asked his friend, after being approached by the elven woman to provide transport across the river.

“What do I think that you should charge her?" Andrew replied with the hint of a smile. "Or what do I think that you can charge her?”

“Well...” Littleby tried to think of the best reply but failed.

“I don't think that she would bat an eyelid for one hundred gold,” Andrew advised his friend.

“One hundred gold here and then another one hundred gold when we get there,” Littleby proposed to the elven noblewoman who was staring at the proceedings with a bored and haughty expression.

“Sort it out will you,” she commanded one of her lackeys and climbed on to the disk with the help of one of her maid servants.

“Perhaps we should make that four hundred,” muttered Littleby.

“I'm sorry....” the noblewoman said, her voice rising as she spoke.

The dwarven scholar laughed embarrassedly and quickly assured her. “I'm just kidding. Let's go.”

Next the dwarves came up to Littleby after he'd demonstrated the safety of his floating disk by depositing the elven woman and her companions on the other shore.

“I could not help but overhear that you have this underground movement..” The dwarven merchant said with a friendly smile.

“Yes, umm." Littleby looked somewhat uncomfortable. "That will have to wait until tomorrow and I probably will not be here.”

“Very well. I think that we can manage the floating contraption." The dwarf's smiled broadened and he gave Littleby a friendly clap on the back. "Hmm. Dwarf to dwarf, I'm sure that you will do us a good deal.”

“Of course, of course.” Littleby adjusted the packs on his back that had been knocked out of place. He considered making the ride a little less stable, but could not find a way to make the journey a turbulent one without losing his passengers.

“It will probably take 2 trips.” The dwarven merchant stepped back and indicated to his eleven travelling companions.

After some arguing Littleby negotiated six trips and charged the dwarves fifty gold coins per trip. The minotaur, knights and elf took five trips to cross the river, agreeing to pay Littleby three hundred gold coins for all of them. When the knights stepped off the disk they said a prayer of thanks to Mishakal and waited for the elf to join them before continuing on their pilgrimage to the realm of the goddess of Healing. Once the elf joined them they set off down the road and Littleby could barely overhear the elf state: "It's strange how they always ask for gold, we've not had to spend a single steel coin on this trip."

Andrew spent his time on the docks watching with admiration as Littleby managed to earn a profit out of the after effects of the modron march. He scribbled a few notes briefly and went back to his normal passive state of watching people go by and studying his environment. No one paid him much attention and he took in everything going on around him.

When Serena and Zakar finally reached High Priest Geffen in the city square, they found the man close to exhaustion with children running amok and people all around calling for him to help them. The other priests were trying to get the townsfolk in to a line so that Geffen could deal with their petitions one by one, but with hundreds of children running around the task looked certain to fail.

High Priest Geffen was grateful for Serena's aid during the march and was glad that she'd stayed awhile longer to help out. He asked her to get the children together and help to keep them calm and entertained. Geffen picked out twenty novices from amongst the priests and told them to follow Serena's orders.

“So I'm in charge of thirty children?” Serena asked, unclear of what Geffen's orders were.

“No," the high priest gently corrected her. "You will be looking after one hundred and fifty children. You'll have five people to help you with this task. The other fifteen carers will look after the four hundred older children.”

“Sweet Tomeri!” Serena exclaimed in surprise. She immediately assigned a couple of the novices to take care of the babies and keep them all in one place. She instructed them that all they would require was feeding and sleeping. One of the townsfolk followed the novices and offered her services as a musician to help the children to get to sleep.

Along with the three remaining novices, the heart seer of Tomeri and her hound archon companion rounded up the many toddlers running amok.

“Zakar,” Serena called over the shouting of the children.

“Yes, my lady.” The hound archon carefully stepped over and around the numerous children.

“Are you any good with children?” the seer asked sweetly.

“No, my lady” Zakar growled apprehensively. Serena laughed out loud for the first time since the modrons had left and felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. Having Zakar nearby always made her feel secure, but his dry wit also made her laugh from time to time.

“Alright sweetheart," she said as she steered him towards a group of screaming and crying children. "Come and learn.”

“It this your will?” Zakar asked looking at the children with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

“Yes!” the seer replied smugly. Having something positive to do after the destruction caused by the modrons made the heart seer of Tomeri feel better about herself.

“My lady," the hound archon growled quietly. "I have fought the forces of darkness for many long years. But it has been a great deal longer since I have been.... challenged in this way.”

“Well," Serena replied as she picked up a small child and placed in the hound archon's large pawed hands. "It will be good for you.”

“It is your will my lady,” Zakar stated. The child had stopped crying as soon as he was placed in the hound archon's hands. Zakar stared at the child, which smiled back, and wondered what to do next. One of the other carers came over to instruct the hound archon how to keep the children entertained. A short while later when the little ones had got over their fear of the large golden furred celestial, they could not keep their hands off him. Soon Zakar became the main source of amusement and entertainment for many of the orphans.

Meanwhile, the henshin mystic had raced up to the library and within a short time found the head librarian who was busy getting the shelves moved so that the modrons could get through the buildings more easily next time.

“You're one of those people that was..." The head librarian said as he moved one of the large shelves. "Doing that thing... that running thing around, helping.”

“Yes,” Malkir replied. He helped the librarian with the shelf and prevented it from falling over.

“Tearing down buildings,” commented the librarian.

“I prefer to look at it as trying to save lives,” Malkir picked up a book that had slid off the shelf and handed it back to the old man.

“There was a very nice dwarf who helped us." The librarian ran his fingers along the books and inserted the book without looking. "Saved the library, yes.”

“He's a close personal friend of mine. I'm here on his behalf, actually.” Malkir followed the old man to another shelf packed with old books.

“Right,” the old man stated. He rolled up his sleeves and began to slide the shelf towards the wall.

“We're trying to get ourselves across the river to the portal to Sigil.” Malkir explained as he pitched in to help the old man with the heavy shelf full of books and scrolls.

“Oh, you've not heard the news then?" The librarian paused for a moment to catch his breath. "The portal to Sigil, it was knocked down.”

“The portal was knocked down.” Malkir repeated in disbelief.

“Uh, yes.” The librarian shrugged by way of apology and made a motion with his hands of a wall falling down.

“OK.” The mystic took a moment to absorb the information and remembered the other reasons for coming to the library.

“There is a gate to the outlands further on.” The librarian explained.

“Yes, OK.” Malkir rushed over to where the old man had wondered to and caught the shelf before it fell on to another.

“But the portal not,” The librarian picked up some of the books that had fallen down and shelved them without looking at them. He performed the action by touch alone having perfected the technique from years of carrying out the same task.

“Well, I have questions that are still valid. Actually, let me ask a second question before I get back to that first one." The librarian sat down on a pile of books with his eyes closed and Malkir hoped that the old man was still listening. "Are there maps of nearby portals or do you have knowledge of these portals, or gates or what not?”

"I have some knowledge.” The old man stated after a long pause. “There is a gate to the Outlands...”

“On the other side of the river, which we know about." The mystic completed the sentence hurriedly. "We can probably find it fairly easy as we just need to leave the swathe of destruction left by the modrons.”

“There is a portal to the Beastlands up in the hills and there is a portal which takes you to a place where there are Mountain Spire cities.” The librarian stroked his beard, his eyes still closed as he sat deep in thought.

“Oh right, I'm from there.” Malkir replied, recognising the description of the cities of his home world.

“Aha," The old man smiled and stood up slowly. He began to amble to one of the other shelves and Malkir was quick to follow him. "Well you've come a long way.”

“In a very short time it seems,” added the mystic.

“Indeed.” The librarian stopped as he was about to move another set of shelves. “You didn't come in that ship did you?”

“Which ship?” asked Malkir curious to find out more.

“Chug, chug, chug ship." The old man made a motion with his hands as if rubbing his stomach, but his arm was at a right angle to his body. "Caused a lot of smelly fumes. The children were very anxious.”

“No," replied Malkir. "But if you could tell me more about it then I would be very interested.”

“It was here awhile ago." The old man rubbed his beard again, trying to recall the memory. "Dropped on someone who claimed to be interested in the march.”

“Oh, that's interesting.” The mystic was afraid that the old man would go back to moving shelves and tried to keep the conversation going.

“All I can tell you was that the ship was not entirely magical. I tried to speak to one of the crew, but they refused to divulge the information." The old man laughed, amused at a thought that just occurred to him. "They said that we were not ready for that kind of knowledge yet and that it was their policy not to interfere.” He finished the last sentence in such a way as to hint at the fact that he knew a great deal more about flying ships than any of those crew members.

“What was the person like?" Malkir asked. "The one who was interested in the march.”

“Oh, little chap." The librarian sniffed the air, as if trying to locate a lingering odour. "Green, had lots of things with him and was carrying some strange kind of crystal.”

“Oh, the goblin is still here then” Malkir said to himself, remembering the goblin by river.

"Is he?” The librarian looked around in surprise. “Well, I expects that's it him.”

“Have you got a map of the portals? To hand or should I come back for it?” Malkir asked, remembering one of the reasons for visiting the library.

“Come back in an hour or so,” the old man replied as he ambled away.

It was not until he was back with the others that Malkir realised that the librarian had not opened his eyes for the whole time that he visited the library.

 

[simmo]

chapter 3 Didn't We Meet at the Feinman Bar Mitzvah?

Whilst Littleby was still making money ferrying travellers across to the other side of the river Malkir came sprinting around the corner. He waited patiently by the dock front for the dwarven scholar to float back across the placid river.

"Where's goblin?" the mystic asked his companion.

"He's at the back," the dwarven scholar replied as he gently floated over to the last of the travellers who'd paid to cross the river in relative speed and safety.

The mystic moved to the end of the line where the fat, broad shouldered goblin was busy adjusting some tiny levers on the metal rings around three glowing crystals. He was so intent on his work that he did not notice the henshin mystic standing behind him until he blocked out the sunlight.

"Greetings," the mystic held out his hand. "I understand that you might be from my homeworld. Or at least have come from there."

"What world are you from?" The goblin cautiously took the humans hand and shook it briefly.

"From Lammed," replied Malkir.

"Ah, no." The goblin thought briefly. "I'm not from there."

"You came here in a flying ship..." Malkir said, leaving the end of his sentence hanging.

"Yes," stated the goblin whose attention was finally on the stranger instead of the three crystals.

"I'm trying to work out a route to where I'm going to be and I need to figure out where the nearby portal are and where they go to." Malkir tried to phrase his statement, but spoke too quickly to structure it properly. "The librarian was not very specific."

"Ah, the librarian." The goblin nodded his head and smiled. "Yes. Where was it that you were trying to go to?"

"I'm actually trying to get to Sigil," Malkir replied relieved to hear that this was the goblin who'd visited the library. "But I'm interested in portals in general."

"I'd like to be able to help you. We're going to the Outlands to follow the march." The goblin looked up in the sky and then back at the stranger. "There are bound to be some portals to Sigil there. But we're not really supposed to..." His eyes suddenly grew larger in recognition and smiled from ear to ear. "Wait a minute. Captain Malkir. Could it be?"

"Ah," Malkir replied somewhat apprehensively.

"You are Captain Malkir!" the goblin exclaimed having finally put his finger on what was bothering about this human. There was something about the human that he recognised and now that he'd realised that this was the famous Captain Malkir his demeanour became a lot friendlier.

"This is going to get very complicated." Malkir stopped for a moment to decide on how best to phrase his next sentences. "You are aware that there are many, many worlds."

"But of course," the goblin replied, nodding his head sagely.

"And you are aware that in an infinite Multiverse it is possible that the same physical person may be born in different worlds simultaneously, as it were." Malkir hoped that the goblin's blank look did not mean that he'd not understood.

"Yes.." The goblin wished for a moment that his bladeling companion was present as this was his field of expertise, but he'd heard this topic of conversation enough to keep up with it.

"If the Prime Material Plane is infinite then it is possible that two people could be born on separate worlds who looks exactly the same." The mystic studied the goblin intently and saw that the creature was following his explanation so far.

"We've done some research in to that," the goblin commented. Calvun, the bladeling cosmologist on the ship had built a proto-type engine but the captain had not given him permission to test it.

"Well, you look like an intelligent sort.." Malkir began. He stopped before he finished his sentence with: 'for a goblin'. He quickly followed his statement with another. "What I'm trying to say is.."

"I've very knowledgeable," the goblin stated in an insulted tone. "I'll have you know. Top of my field." He added proudly.

"Right, exactly." The mystic tried to cover his mistake. "That is why I'm explaining it in detail. Rather than glossing over it."

"Keep going, Captain Malkir." The goblin smiled and made a small adjustment to the crystals.

"That's the point that I am getting to," stated Malkir continuing his explanation. "There was Captain Malkir and then there was indeed a psionic warrior, a warrior of Tomeri and other Malkirs. Now there is me. I am aware that once there was a Captain Malkir and I am also aware of the fact that there is no longer a Captain Malkir."

"We'd thought you lost, Captain Malkir." The goblin had followed most of the mystic's explanation, but did not want to sound stupid by asking for clarification.

"Yes, there was a Convergence." Malkir said the last word with a capital letter. The event had radically changed his life, as well as the other possible Malkirs. The repercussions of the event were still being played out. "I believe that this would be a good word for it."

"That's your term for it. Hmmm, Convergence." The goblin mulled over the word and filed it away in his head. "We thought that your ship was lost. But this explains a great deal. I'll have to contact my ship of course. The Profiteer should be coming through here soon."

"The what?" Malkir asked.

"The Profiteer, that's our Ship." Staring up at the sky, the goblin pointed beyond the hills around Haven. "My Captain would be most interested in meeting you. Well, be interested in meeting Captain Malkir. But since you're not him, perhaps you can stand in for him."

"I could do a job of bluffing my way.." said Malkir not too comfortable with the idea.

"Oh no," the goblin corrected. "We can explain the situation to him. He'd be most interested to meet you."

"There is a certain fascination in meeting..." The mystic responded, recalling several other meetings that he'd had with people who knew the different Malkirs. "I've found it a couple of times recently that my various prior incarnations were rather well known in some areas." He tried not to think about the version of him that was a blackguard to a new and dark power.

"Captain." The goblin held the crystal up to his ear. "You will not believe this. I've just met Captain Malkir." He paused for a moment as if listening for a response. "What? No, still in Haven. Yes I know that they do not want us here." The three crystals pulsed with different coloured lights, casting strange shadows across the goblin's wide and flat face. "OK, we'll meet you outside the city. We should have enough fuel for the modulus engine to take us to the Outlands. Yes, the ship should be able to take it."

"Take what?" asked Malkir who'd tried to piece the seemingly one-sided conversation together.

"Uh, technical details, Captain." The goblin replied evasively.

"It's one of those things when someone says that 'it should be able to take it' in that tone of voice." Malkir had experienced travelling in flying ships before and knew how it felt to be a great height above the ground. Whilst it was an exhilarating experience, it could also be a very frightening one. "It's usually not a good thing."

"It's an experimental engine." The creature stated by way of apology. "It creates a reality disjunction that allows us to pull the ship between planes. The engine has been under a lot of strain and we're going to the Outlands for repairs and may head to Sigil to get more items. The engine attunes itself to the plane that it travelling to. Hence the items. It's all a bit complicated.... Since you're not Captain Malkir. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be telling you this."

"I should really make my way out of the city." Malkir excused himself and raced to meet his companions.

 

[simmo]

chapter 4 To Boldly Go

"Would you like to fly on a ship with people that claim to know me?" asked his companions who were still standing by the docks.

"I don't know," Andrew by the possibility of travelling in a flying ship. "It depends on what it is going to be doing."

"I DON'T WANT TO FLY," Caleb stated as he paused in his polishing of his hammer.

"Yes, I got that bit Caleb." Malkir had almost forgotten that the earth genasi was still sitting there. "Oh, I didn't get a chance to sort out the possibility of caverns and tunnels as the portal to Sigil on the other side has been knocked down."

"OK, let's not tell anyone until they are on the other side shall we?" Littleby said in a fierce whisper.

"The gate to the Outlands is still fine. Probably our best bet is to get to the Outlands. There is also this business with an incoming flying ship. You're probably going to be able to see it coming as it's quite big and belching smoke was mentioned at one point. Please let me know when you are finished with your admirable ferrying 'get rich quick' scheme, so that you can come and join us." Malkir set off again up the main avenue towards the hills. "I think that I need to be following the goblin now."

"It certainly sounds interesting." Andrew left the docks and hurried after the mystic. They walked quickly up the street and after a time reached the remains of the city gate.

"Andrew, I'm not entirely sure what is going to happen when this ship arrive and..." Malkir said as they walked past the ruined gate.

"That's OK." Andrew replied.

"And..." The two caught up with the strange goblin who was ambling along staring at destruction left by the modrons. "Sorry but I did not catch your name."

"Pic," the goblin held out his hand to Malkir's companion. "And you are?"

"Andrew Rimilia." He said as he shook the goblins hand.

"Delighted to meet you." The goblin smiled and then looked at the crystals which he pointed at Andrew and Malkir.

"Likewise," said Andrew who was studying the goblin intently.

The crystal glowed pulsed and glowed faintly. Some of the metal rings around them rotated and the goblin nodded his head, writing down a string of numbers.

"What's going on?" asked Andrew curious about the strange device.

"I'm just taking some measurements." The goblin replied cheerfully.

"What kind of measurements?" Andrew asked, suspicious that the goblin was doing more that he claimed.

"Well, you appear to be human, male and well some other interesting bits of knowledge." The goblin tried to smile reassuringly. "I am just making observations."

"Yes, of course you are." Andrew stated, not convinced in the slightest.

"We meet many interesting creatures out here that look human but are not in fact human." The goblin put the strange contraption in a pouch and took out a short stubby wand with red and blue dots painted on it.

"Your crew, what is the mix of races?" Malkir asked.

"Yes." The goblin replied, glad for the change in topic. "The captain is human, of course. The Cygnaran Navy would never allow any one other than a human to lead a ship. We've picked up some people along the way. There's a bladeling, Calvun, our resident cosmologist. I'm in charge of the engines and..."

"If you are in charge of the engines," Malkir interrupted. "Then why are you here and not on the ship."

"Because I have been sent here to study the modrons close up." Pic offered by way of explanation.

"Did you enjoy the experience?" Andrew asked. He saw that the goblin was hiding something, but could not put his finger on it.

"Yes it was rather interesting." He turned to address the mystic again. "We have some dwarves in our crew. The healer in chief is a dwarf called Skinner."

After waiting for an hour in the hills outside of Haven the ship finally came in to view. It started as a small speck in the sky and grew over time in to a larger speck until eventually some details could be made out. A thin line of black smoke trailed behind the flying ship, polluting the pristine blue sky. The ship laboriously travelled acrossgot closer they could see that it was a very large galleon shaped vessel with a rainbow coloured sail that shifted in colour as it caught the wind. Steel plates were attached to the hull in various places and long, thin pipes travelled the length of the ship. Some portions of the deck were covered over and strange short fat pipes protruded out of the ship at right angles along the deck. Small figures could be seen climbing over the vessel which bopped along through the air as if riding a rough sea.

"Most impressive," said Malkir who marvelled at its size, but preferred the sleeker designs from his homeworld.

"Yes, the profiteer is a wonderful exploration vessel." The goblin stated proudly.

"Why that name for the ship?" The mystic asked, curious about the strange choice of name.

"Because we are looking for new sources of wealth and trade for Cyngar." The goblin was a little confused why Captain Malkir was asking a question with such an obvious answers, but had to remind himself that this was a different Malkir.

"That's not a bad idea." Andrew said, thinking about the business potential of flying ships.

"The people of Khador are growing in strength as well as mechanika." Pic explained to the man who was not Captain Malkir. "The followers of Menoth seem to come up with new and inventive uses of oil based weapons almost on a daily basis. We were sent out to find out new technology and magic to keep us ahead of the others. Of course, no one really understands the necrotech that comes from the nightmare lands of Cryx, such is the way that it is."

"It's a peculiar thing." Malkir remarked pensively. "But I've found that since coming to Sigil, a single world may not be as important it originally felt."

"What gave you that idea?" Pic asked sounding somewhat insulted.

"Well, when you live in a city that houses creatures from a thousand worlds. That is home to organisation that span numerous worlds and have plans for the whole Multiverse.." The mystic's view of his home city and home world had changed drastically since travelling the planes. Having see Acheron, the Outlands, Elysium and Sigil he felt that he could more easily put his small home world in to perspective compared to the Outer planes.

"Yes, yes." Pic stated sounding exasperated. "I've heard it before. But, here's no place like the Iron Kingdoms."

"Your ship is getting closer," Malkir remarked now that he could make out more details of the ship.

"Yes, it will arrive shortly." Pic said having calculated that it would be another hour before the ship was close enough to board.

"What are those funny stubby pipes sticking out of the side?" The mystic had been trying to work out the function of various bits on the ship and noted the lack of ballistas or catapults.

"They're for defensive measures." Pic hoped that they would not ask him any more questions about the ship. "So tell me more of your world."

"Well, we have an illithid problem," Malkir replied as if that answered everything.

"What is an illithid?" The goblin asked, curious to find out more.

"How do you explain illithids." The mystic smirked and tried to think of how best to capture the essence of mind flayers. "Uh, humanoid creatures. Do you know psionics, powers of the mind?"

"No but I've heard of mind-walkers before," Pic said.

"Well, illithids are powerful in this way and they're favourite nourishment is brains. They are also in to mental control." Malkir shuddered at the though of just how many illithids inhabited his world and how many more might life on the second moon that had heralded their arrival.

"Captain." the goblin said speaking in to the three crystals. "We nee to stay away from the illithids." He paused briefly waiting for a response. "Yes, we should no approach the nautiloid on the Outlands again."

"Illithids on the whole are not good news." Malkir commented. "They tend to see other races as cattle."

"Aha, that would explain the farming reference." Pic smiled having solved a mystery that had been bothering him for awhile. Now that the man who was not Captain Malkir had given the strange creatures a name, a great many things were falling in to place. Of course, alien races and all that was Skinners field of expertise and Pic was keen to discuss it with the dwarven healer as soon as the ship arrived.

"They're terribly keen to turn up somewhere, as long as they are in charge." Malkir was interested to observe the reaction that his words were having on the flat faced goblin. He could tell that the creature had met illithids and wanted to see if he was allied to them or not. The signs that the goblin gave off indicated that Pic was not fond of illithids even in the slightest.

"What other kind of ships do they have?" Pic asked wondering if the illithids might be planning an attack on the Iron Kingdoms.

"Well nothing like that." Malkir said pointing at the ship. "Ours function entirely based on magic. Oh and really big dragons."

"Interesting." Pic theorised that if the illithids relied on magic and mental powers for their strength then perhaps mechanika and especially warjacks was the way to defeat them. "We have dragons as well, but fortunately they slumber."

"We thought that ours did," Malkir replied with a bemused smile. "They were not exactly common. But once the illithids invaded, they seemed to be... using them. Which is exactly as unpleasant as it sounds."

Pic shuddered visibly and wished that he could be back inside the safety of the Profiteer sooner. "They must be powerful indeed."

"They can be extremely powerful. Anyway that is the general situation. There are humans and their allies on one continent. There are illithids on the other continent and the illithids would like to be on both continents." Malkir finished his description of Lammed by giving a very general description of the stale-mate on his planet.

"So how is it that you are not Captain Malkir? Is he from your world too?" Pic was trying to think of a way to introduce the man who was not Captain Malkir to his Captain and wanted to find out a little more about him.

"I don't know." Malkir replied honestly. "At the Convergence I was aware of many of my selves. Captain Malkir was one of them."

"I see." Pic stated not having much of a clearer picture of what the Convergence was. "Where did this Convergence take place?"

"In Sigil," Malkir said as if that explained everything.

"In Sigil?" Pic asked, not quite believing the response.

"In a manner of speaking." The mystic said, remembering back to his encounters at the tower at the edge of time.