KidCthulhu
First Post
Sagiro said:
I don't.
Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
- Thread starter Sagiro
- Start date
I don't.
Zaruthustran
The tingling means it’s working!
Piratecat said:You're going to see something very interesting in the next few posts. You know how in a given fight, there's either some really brilliant tactic you can use, or you just totally miss the important point and your tactics make things a lot worse? Well, you're going to see both of those.
Oh?
Sagiro said:
Yay!
Sagiro said:
Oh noes!
-z
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 243
Waiting Room
Morningstar suggests that any further interrogation of Sagiro should take place under reliable truth magic. Sagiro maintains that he is telling the truth, though he assents to being questioned inside a zone of truth. He balks, however, at giving assent to detect thoughts or any other invasive measures. He shudders at the very thought.
“I do not wish to have the sanctity of my mind violated any more than it has been already.”
With the zone of truth in place, they first have Sagiro repeat what he has already told them, and it all checks out. Then Kibi asks: “It must be strange for the Sharshun to have a human... servant. Why did Darkeye pick you?”
“I don’t know,” confesses Sagiro. “I was brought up by the Sharshun, and under her thrall, though I didn’t know it at the time. Darkeye always said I had great potential, and that she’d see to it that I realized it.”
“Were you always able to say the word ‘Sharshun?’” asks Ernie. “Or did the Masking prevent it?”
“The Masking did not affect me in any way,” says Sagiro. “It never did.”
“A ha!” says Ernie. “They had people just like us! Sagiro, were there others like you?”
“I think so,” says Sagiro, “but I never knew anything about them.”
“If you were brought up by the Sharshun,” asks Kibi, “did they make you worship the Black Circle?”
Sagiro frowns. “They... could make me do many things. But they left me to my own devices, to form my religious basis. I believe in the Black Circle, but I am no fanatic. The Black Circle is just a God of Knowledge. Dark Knowledge.”
“But who is the God?” asks Kibi. “Who is the God of the Black Circle?”
“The Black Circle is the God,” says Sagiro. “It is a Divine Concept, an object of worship in its own right. The symbol and the deity are one and the same.”
The zone of truth expires, and the Company regroups and talks for a while among themselves before the next session. Grey Wolf grumbles at the coddling Sagiro is getting, and mutters that just chopping off villains’ heads on general principle would save them a great deal of time. Ernie overhears him.
“Grey Wolf, what is it with you and chopping off heads?”
“We should always chop off the heads,” answers Grey Wolf. “Fewer surprises that way.”
“I’ll bet it’s the sword,” says Dranko, referring to Bostock. “I told you it was evil.”
“Actually,” says Bostock, speaking clearly in Grey Wolf’s mind, “I fail to understand the need to decapitate those already vanquished, unless you have specific expectation that otherwise they’ll spring back to life.”
Grey Wolf just shakes his head. Some of the others start scouring the room and bodies for loot, while Ernie makes idle conversation with Sagiro. He learns one interesting fact: Darkeye also had a Soul Eater in her thrall for a while, almost certainly King Farazil.
There’s little loot to be found in the bloody mess of the Lord of the Roses’ minions. The sorceress had some magical stuff – bracers, a ring, a cloak and a couple of potions – but that’s about it. Dranko seems remarkably unconcerned.
“Remember,” he says brightly, “this is the place where five thousand gold-piece sapphires grow on trees, and Sagiro here hands them out to his lackeys.”
Sagiro says nothing, and looks confused.
“Srapa,” prods Dranko. “You gave him sapphires, right?”
“I gave him nothing,” says Sagiro. “Not that I remember.”
“Damn it!” cries Dranko. Another get-rich-quick scheme is down the tubes.
Scree’s body has started to settle down, but every couple of minutes it bursts into a seething mass of colored gemstones as the Eyes of Moirel struggle. Scree says to Kibi: “Tell Grey Wolf that I have much more sympathy for him now.”
Grey Wolf smiles. “Tell Scree that between the two of us, I think he has it worse.”
“I really appreciate what you’re doing for us,” Kibi tells his Familiar.
“I’m not really doing anything,” says Scree morosely, “except serving as a combat arena.”
* *
Morningstar casts a new zone of truth and the discussion with Sagiro picks up again.
“What’s the last thing you remember clearly?” asks Ernie.
“Clearly? That’s difficult. I remember... I think... I think that I... yes, setting out from near Verdshane. I remember the Eye helping me stay hidden when I went through the gartine arch on the Balani Peninsula. There was a long overland journey. It was the only way to reach... Kivia? Is that what it was called? I remember a tower... and giants... Darkeye had told me something I was supposed to say.”
Sagiro is clearly struggling as he answers. Many of his memories are hazy, muddied; he dredges them up with great difficulty.
“Did you need a key?” asks Dranko.
“The Eye was the key,” says Sagiro.
Dranko throws up his hands in disgust. “Oh, for crying out loud! That just gets right up my nose! The Eye was the Key? We went through all that crap for nothing!”
“I needed a phrase, and a key, yes,” says Sagiro. “Darkeye told me the phrase, and the Eye said it would serve in the stead of the key.”
“Your Eye talks to you,” says Dranko.
“So do ours,” says Kibi.
“Yeah, when they feel like it,” says Aravis.
“Once inside I traveled through many strange places, but my memories of those places are dim,” continues Sagiro. “The Eye already had its own idea of what it would do. I think... from the very moment we arrived inside, the Eye knew it wanted this place for itself.”
“Do you know what happens if you go through the Mirrors of Semek with an Eye?” asks Dranko.
Sagiro looks startled at the question, and digs around for memories on the subject.
“Yes,” he says at last. “Something significant happens, though I don’t know what.”
“’Cause a Sharshun did that, and disappeared,” says Dranko. “You were there, remember?”
“I was? Yes... I think... I was there, long ago. Or was it that long? But, yes, that’s what the Eyes are for. You stand with them in the Mirrors, and they activate. I don’t know what happens. I don’t know where they go, but they travel somewhere.”
“Or nowhere,” says Ernie.
“When you get out of here, what’s going to stop Darkeye from taking over your mind again?” Dranko asks.
“I don’t know. It may just reassert itself automatically, or she may try to reestablish it.” Sagiro looks worried at the prospect.
“But as far as you know, no one is controlling you now,” asks Morningstar.
“No,” says Sagiro with surety. “And I don’t wish to serve Darkeye again. She has a reputation for cruelty, and no one is even allowed to look upon her.”
“How come?” asks Dranko.
“It is the rule,” says Sagiro with a shrug. “I don’t know why, it’s just how things are,”
“I’ll bet she turns people to stone!” exclaims Ernie. “She probably has snaky hair.”
“So,” says Dranko, returning to more important matters. “Where do you keep your loot?”
“My loot?” asks Sagiro
“Yeah, your loot,” says Dranko impatiently. “You were the Lord of the Roses, with hundreds of servants!”
“I didn’t have hundreds of...” says Sagiro, confused.
“Well, dozens then,” says Dranko. “Either way, you were a powerful guy. You must have had a big ol’ stash of loot.”
“Actually, the Lord of the Roses had a very small retinue,” says Sagiro, thinking hard. “There were servants who came with the castle who are probably still in it, elsewhere. I... he did gather some powerful servants. That...sorceress... was the first. He sent her out, to bring others back. If I remember rightly, she convinced the six-armed creature that she had found a way out of the Slices, and when he got here, the Red Eye dominated him. And she brought back the whirlwind with the swords in a bottle she had found.
Srapa was the only one of any power who arrived on his own.”
“And the bear?” asks Dranko.
“I think the sorceress charmed it, and brought it back from some other Slice.”
“If it intended to subjugate the Eye that was already here,” asks Morningstar, “but felt it needed our two Eyes to do it, did it know we were here?”
“It suspected you were coming,” says Sagiro.
“So,” says Dranko, realizing that he’s not going to get anywhere in his ‘loot’ line of questioning, “what’s the deal with you and that Demon Lord, Tapheon?”
“He strove with the Red Eye constantly,” says Sagiro.
“It’s not going to take him long to figure out that the Lord of the Roses is no longer in power,” says Aravis. “We need to get moving, or Tapheon may be coming for Kibi now that there’s no Red Eye to fight against.”
“Do you know where the other Eye is?” asks Aravis.
“I... the Red Eye knew,” says Sagiro. “But I don’t remember.”
Ernie shouts into Scree: “Hey! Red Eye? Where’s the Blue Eye?”
To everyone’s surprise, Scree roils around a bit, and the Eyes actually speak into Kibi’s mind.
“We’re working on it.”
“Wow!” exclaims Kibi. “They answered!”
“And without any crazy prophecy,” adds Aravis.
“Yeah, Scree has it worse than I did,” says Grey Wolf.
“Agreed,” says Ernie. “Grey Wolf, your stomach never talked back to you.”
“On the other hand, we’re not thinking about killing Scree to fulfill a prophecy,” says Aravis.
“No, we’re not!” says Scree emphatically.
The second zone of truth runs out, and the Company is well satisfied that Sagiro is being honest with them. They keep talking for a while, about Darkeye and her plans. Sagiro thinks that if he didn’t come back, the Sharshun were going to have to hunt down the remaining two Eyes in order to get the three they needed. He has a hazy memory that the Sharshun were already planning an expedition into Calnis to grab the Yellow Eye. A quick rundown of all seven Eyes’ dispositions:
Green: owned by the Company
Purple: owned by the Company
Red: brought by Sagiro; now owned (sort of) by the Company
Blue: currently powering Het Branoi
Yellow: once in Calnis; probably recovered by the Sharshun.
Remaining two: unknown, but probably both found eventually by the Sharshun. One was probably already in their possession, being the one seen used in the Mirrors of Semek already.
The Company now comes to the unfortunate realization that there’s no way out of the throne room. With the Red Way gone, the only door out is the one through which the bear attacked, but that only leads into a large pen that smells strongly of bear. Ernie worries that elsewhere in the castle are ordinary servants who now have no guiding power in their mind, and no eyeballs.
“Sagiro, how did the Red Eye get to the rest of the castle?” asks Ernie.
“It opened doorways when it needed to,” says Sagiro. “A long time ago the Eye decided to make this an impenetrable sanctum, controlling the only doors in or out.”
On the one hand, that doesn’t bode well for their continued travel plans. On the other, it’s a darned good thing that sort of cavalier opening and closing of Ways didn’t attract Cleaners!
“Well, I say we throw the bodies into the bear’s room and clean the rest of this place up,” says Dranko. “’Cause it looks like we’ll be here for a few years, at least.”
“Years?!” squeaks Flicker.
“Unless you can think of some other way out of here...” says Dranko.
Kibi says, “Well, our two Eyes may be able to strong-arm the Red one into getting us out of...”
“WE’RE WORKING ON IT!” comes the voice of one of the Eyes, spoken through Scree.
“They’re getting snippy,” says Kibi worriedly. “Let’s just be patient.”
Ernie lights the fire pit, and starts preparations for cooking the bear meat. Dranko lounges on the throne, pulls out a crown from an old treasure horde, and puts it on his head.
“He’s cute when he’s delusional,” says Morningstar with a smile.
From the throne, Dranko calls to Ernie. “You know, when I smell that delicious bear meat, and see the smoke rising, I think to myself, ‘there sure isn’t another source of fresh air in here.’”
“The Eye used to open a Way for the smoke to escape,” says Sagiro.
Dranko leaps from his throne and calls his decanter of endless water from his wide-mouth pouch. The fire is soon out, and they set to discussing ways of cooking the meat without using up the air supply.
“I’m not eating bear meat cooked over a flaming sphere,” Morningstar insists.
That earns a gale of laughter. Which is highly disturbing, because everyone hears the laughter, and yet no one is laughing.
* *
The laughter dies down, and a voice sounds in their heads, a rich, beautiful voice with an unmistakable undercurrent of limitless malice.
“The Lord of the Roses no longer strives against me!” exults Lord Tapheon. “You’ve done well, my friends.”
“I want you to know,” thinks Dranko. “I’ve been thinking about what you did to me in your throne room, and I want you to know... I forgive you.”
Grey Wolf slowly sidles away from Dranko, as if he expects his friend to be consumed on the spot by unholy fire.
“It is not your place to forgive me, Dranko Blackhope,” responds Tapheon. “It is not the ant’s place to forgive the man for stepping upon it. And you cannot forgive me.
“Fortunately for you, I am generous, and do not hold your views against you any longer,” thinks Tapheon into their heads. “We are one step closer to our collective goal. But, unless I miss my guess, we are not as close as we believed we would be, are we?
“The Lord of the Roses is gone, but the power that creates the Slices is still unchecked! Now that I can cast my perception beyond the Lord of the Roses, I see there is a new barrier between it and you. It is... opaque, in a way that troubles me. But I will make you another offer. To bring you even closer. You must get closer, and end this. You mortals must... study, reflect, practice to improve yourselves. This costs you in money and time, waiting for your experiences and knowledge to crystallize. But now that the Lord of the Roses is no more, the balance of power in the Slices has shifted. Things may start to unravel, and time may be a luxury you no longer have.”
Tapheon isn’t in the room. He’s probably still in his Fortress, several Slices away. But every member of the Company gets the unsettling feeling that he’s looking at them, and not just communicating via telepathy.
“Why will things unravel?” asks Kibi.
“The Lord of the Roses’ power was the same as that used to power the Slices,” says Tapheon. “It may have tied itself in somehow, had its tendrils in the fabric of Het Branoi. Without it, who knows what will happen? But don’t think of this as an offer. It’s a gift. I can make things clear to you, in an instant. I can grant you the benefits of weeks of study and training in just a few minutes time. I ask nothing in return. Nothing. You will not be beholden to me in any way.”
“Ever?” asks Dranko.
“Ever, as far as I’m concerned. I ask for nothing. What I get out of it, is that you’ll be better prepared to face your upcoming trials. You can accept or reject my offer on an individual basis, as you will. I assure you there are no strings, no bargains.”
“Can we get that in writing?” asks Kibi.
“No, of course not!” thinks Tapheon, and they can feel his temper start to rise. “I would, but physical reality precludes that at the moment. So... any takers?"
“No,” says Ernie flatly. “There’s no way.”
Flicker is the only one who entertains the offer, but Dranko talks him out of it.
“If you do this,” Dranko whispers to Flicker, “you’ll have to listen to Ernie lecture you about it for the rest of your natural life. And since the people who say no will have to train anyway, we might as well spare ourselves the lecture.”
Step smiles grimly. “I’m still waiting for the demon to say something that’s actually relevant to me.”
“You know,” thinks Dranko, “I would have entertained your offer, but being turned into an inside-out gutted fish really put our relationship in a new light. Even considering I’ve forgiven you.”
Over the telepathic connection they can feel Tapheon seething. “I wish to amend some of my previous statements. Any words I’ve spoken of reconciliation, amnesty, and working toward a common good, I retract in the case of Dranko Blackhope. When I get out of here, we’ll... see about things.”
“Oh, yeah?” thinks Dranko. In for a penny. “You’re threatening me?”
“Dranko!” hisses Ernie, but it’s too late for that.
“Yes,” replies Tapheon. “Yes I am.”
“Well then,” says Dranko. “I guess it won’t do me any more harm to tell you that you can kiss my ass.”
A number of gasps resound through Tapheon’s telepathic link.
“Dranko, I refuse to marry a fish,” whispers Morningstar.
“I am secure in the love and solace of my God,” says Dranko.
“And I,” says Tapheon, “am secure in the love and solace of myself, which is essentially the same thing.”
“That’ll put hair on your palms,” says Dranko smirking.
Now everyone starts to sidle away from Dranko, just in case.
“Perhaps,” hisses Tapheon, and there’s no sweetness now in his voice. “Perhaps when your current personality and soul have been burned away by a few millennia of torment, a person like you might have a future as part of my retinue. You certainly have the mouth for it. Perhaps I’ll be kind and give you a form with a mouth, when the time comes.”
“That’s great,” answers Dranko. “I’ll put ‘quaking in my boots’ on my calendar for...oh... next Friday.”
“This discussion grows tiresome,” says Tapheon. “I’ll just have to hope you succeed on your own. In the meantime, Dranko, I’ll have some of my minions start sharpening your stake.”
“I like steak,” says Dranko, but Tapheon’s presence is gone from their minds.
“Er,” says Dranko, when he notices everyone starting at him with wide eyes. “I think I may have a problem with authority figures.”
* *
“You know, I’ve always been impressed with your faith,” says Ernie. “But sometimes I wish you’d keep your mouth shut about it!. A simple ‘no thank you’ would have sufficed.
“I thought is was great!” says Flicker, reaching up to pat Dranko on the back. “You told a demon lord to kiss your ass, and you’re still alive!”
“I guess we’ll add ‘rescue Dranko’s soul from eternal torment’ to our list of things to do,” Ernie sighs.
A glowing red gem pops out of Scree and starts to roll across the floor toward the throne. Before anyone can react, Scree becomes entirely amethyst for a second, and the Red Eye goes shooting back into Scree as if it had been attached to an invisible rubber band. There’s some more churning of contesting gemstones before Scree’s body settles back down.
“There’s still some convincing left to do,” observes Scree.
The Company starts to think they should begin to train where they are, and hope the Eyes figure something out before there’s no more air in the room. Aravis sits down and goes into the Crosser’s Maze, thinking to learn something useful. As before he sees the strange partitioned universe of Het Branoi, but he’s disappointed that there are no adjacent Slices to this one. Even parts of the castle that once were in the same Slice are no longer connected. Truly the Red Eye had made this a place of isolated security.
It is some hours later, after the Company has cleaned the place up and unpacked bedrolls, when Kibi looks suddenly alert.
“The Eyes are talking again!” he says. Then, after a pause: “Scree says the Eyes have things under control.” Another pause. “They have the Red Eye subdued.” Pause. “They are learning what it knows.”
The others look at Kibi and Scree expectantly.
“The Red Eye knows where the Blue Eye is!” says Kibi excitedly. “In fact, the Red Eye could have gone near to where the Blue Eye is at any time, but was afraid for its own safety. The specifics are still obscured; there is an unknown power between this throne room, and where the Blue Eye resides. The Eyes – our Eyes – think they can imitate the Red Eye’s trick of opening Ways. It’ll take another day or so. But they say it’s a solvable problem.”
* *
Knowing that they’ll be leaving soon, Ernie makes a small cook-fire and stews some of their beef jerky.
“It’s ‘bear surprise’,” he says. When the others start to point out that he hasn’t actually carved any meat from the animal, he adds: “Surprise! There’s no bear!”
Sagiro wolfs down the food, making happy slurping sounds. “It’s been so long,” he says, “I’d forgotten what it feels like to eat!”
Kibi breaks out some of the ale (Eye of the Storm vintage) from the bag of holding, and passes it around. Snokas takes a deep drink, then comments: “Not bad for dwarfish stuff, but it lacks a good bite.”
“You mean the rancid overtones of orcish swill?” says Kibi, affronted. “True, I avoided that.”
“The problem is, you use tame ingredients,” says Snokas.
“I use tasty ingredients, if that’s what you mean,” says Kibi.
“We need a bar fight!” exclaims Dranko, grinning.
Grey Wolf turns to Morningstar. “You need to have more control over your half-orcs,” he says. Morningstar just shakes her head.
“Look,” says Snokas, “I’m not saying it isn’t any good. It is good. But...”
“But you prefer bad beer,” says Kibi. “I understand.”
“I prefer different amounts of fermentation,” Snokas explains. “Different ingredients, yes. Different... well, yours just isn’t chunky enough.”
“This, from a race that likes black lizard pie,” says Grey Wolf.
“Black lizard pie?” says Snokas. “I love black lizard pie! You know, what’s-his-name, that orc servant you had polymorphed into a human. Skorg. He made a great black lizard pie. Wasn’t good for much else, being a full orc and all, but it’s a shame he doesn’t exist anymore.”
Kibi rolls his eyes and says to Dranko and Morningstar, “Oh, great. I’ll bet you’ll be making black lizard pie for all your little... quarter-orcs kids.”
“I can’t stand black lizard pie,” confesses Dranko. “I tastes like... it tastes like feet.”
“You’ve lost your appreciation for the finer things in life,” says Snokas, shaking his head.
“Feet!" insists Dranko. “I don’t like lizard feet.”
“It’s 'cause you haven’t had enough of them,” says Snokas.
“Snokas, we’ve all tried black lizard pie,” says Ernie. “The good stuff, straight from Abernathy’s ice box. And I’ve got to agree with Dranko: feet.”
There’s a round of general agreement from the others.
“Well, I’d expect that from humans and elves and halflings,” says Snokas. “But Dranko, you’ve got orcish blood in your veins.”
Step sits down and shakes his head. “These may be among my last days alive, and here I sit, listening to a discussion about half-orcish cuisine. Though, having tried it, I agree with the 'feet' opinion.”
Snokas throws up his hands.
* *
The Company sleeps, and with the Eyes moderately quiescent, it’s probably the safest place to camp in all the Slices. Over breakfast, the Eyes announce: “We’re ready.”
“Where are you taking us?” asks Kibi.
“A Slice near to the Blue Eye.”
“What’s it like?” asks Kibi. “Should we make any special preparations?”
“There are many living beings there.”
In the center of the room a Way opens, appearing like a window shade pulled down from an invisible window. It’s surface is mottled with red, purple and green, swirling in a chaotic mix. Every so often it flickers in and out of existence.
“Well that just fills me with confidence,” says Grey Wolf.
“Don’t go through yet,” says the Eyes.
“Does anyone here ever question their career choice?” asks Morningstar.
“It should be safe in a minute. No. Wait!”
The Way disappears. The Company watches nervously. Two minutes later it reappears, still swirling with color but no longer flickering.
“C’mon, Sagiro,” says Dranko. “You’re coming with us. We’re not going to leave you here.”
“Though when we get back from all this, we’ll need to have a long talk,” says Morningstar, distrustful even now.
“Yes!” agrees Sagiro. “It is possible, as you have said, that when I am once again in the same reality as Darkeye, I may become dominated again. I do not wish for that! It would be better if you share no secrets with me, in case that happens."
“Don’t worry,” says Grey Wolf. “We won’t.”
And with no further delay, the Company steps into the multicolored Way.
...to be continued...
Waiting Room
Morningstar suggests that any further interrogation of Sagiro should take place under reliable truth magic. Sagiro maintains that he is telling the truth, though he assents to being questioned inside a zone of truth. He balks, however, at giving assent to detect thoughts or any other invasive measures. He shudders at the very thought.
“I do not wish to have the sanctity of my mind violated any more than it has been already.”
With the zone of truth in place, they first have Sagiro repeat what he has already told them, and it all checks out. Then Kibi asks: “It must be strange for the Sharshun to have a human... servant. Why did Darkeye pick you?”
“I don’t know,” confesses Sagiro. “I was brought up by the Sharshun, and under her thrall, though I didn’t know it at the time. Darkeye always said I had great potential, and that she’d see to it that I realized it.”
“Were you always able to say the word ‘Sharshun?’” asks Ernie. “Or did the Masking prevent it?”
“The Masking did not affect me in any way,” says Sagiro. “It never did.”
“A ha!” says Ernie. “They had people just like us! Sagiro, were there others like you?”
“I think so,” says Sagiro, “but I never knew anything about them.”
“If you were brought up by the Sharshun,” asks Kibi, “did they make you worship the Black Circle?”
Sagiro frowns. “They... could make me do many things. But they left me to my own devices, to form my religious basis. I believe in the Black Circle, but I am no fanatic. The Black Circle is just a God of Knowledge. Dark Knowledge.”
“But who is the God?” asks Kibi. “Who is the God of the Black Circle?”
“The Black Circle is the God,” says Sagiro. “It is a Divine Concept, an object of worship in its own right. The symbol and the deity are one and the same.”
The zone of truth expires, and the Company regroups and talks for a while among themselves before the next session. Grey Wolf grumbles at the coddling Sagiro is getting, and mutters that just chopping off villains’ heads on general principle would save them a great deal of time. Ernie overhears him.
“Grey Wolf, what is it with you and chopping off heads?”
“We should always chop off the heads,” answers Grey Wolf. “Fewer surprises that way.”
“I’ll bet it’s the sword,” says Dranko, referring to Bostock. “I told you it was evil.”
“Actually,” says Bostock, speaking clearly in Grey Wolf’s mind, “I fail to understand the need to decapitate those already vanquished, unless you have specific expectation that otherwise they’ll spring back to life.”
Grey Wolf just shakes his head. Some of the others start scouring the room and bodies for loot, while Ernie makes idle conversation with Sagiro. He learns one interesting fact: Darkeye also had a Soul Eater in her thrall for a while, almost certainly King Farazil.
There’s little loot to be found in the bloody mess of the Lord of the Roses’ minions. The sorceress had some magical stuff – bracers, a ring, a cloak and a couple of potions – but that’s about it. Dranko seems remarkably unconcerned.
“Remember,” he says brightly, “this is the place where five thousand gold-piece sapphires grow on trees, and Sagiro here hands them out to his lackeys.”
Sagiro says nothing, and looks confused.
“Srapa,” prods Dranko. “You gave him sapphires, right?”
“I gave him nothing,” says Sagiro. “Not that I remember.”
“Damn it!” cries Dranko. Another get-rich-quick scheme is down the tubes.
Scree’s body has started to settle down, but every couple of minutes it bursts into a seething mass of colored gemstones as the Eyes of Moirel struggle. Scree says to Kibi: “Tell Grey Wolf that I have much more sympathy for him now.”
Grey Wolf smiles. “Tell Scree that between the two of us, I think he has it worse.”
“I really appreciate what you’re doing for us,” Kibi tells his Familiar.
“I’m not really doing anything,” says Scree morosely, “except serving as a combat arena.”
* *
Morningstar casts a new zone of truth and the discussion with Sagiro picks up again.
“What’s the last thing you remember clearly?” asks Ernie.
“Clearly? That’s difficult. I remember... I think... I think that I... yes, setting out from near Verdshane. I remember the Eye helping me stay hidden when I went through the gartine arch on the Balani Peninsula. There was a long overland journey. It was the only way to reach... Kivia? Is that what it was called? I remember a tower... and giants... Darkeye had told me something I was supposed to say.”
Sagiro is clearly struggling as he answers. Many of his memories are hazy, muddied; he dredges them up with great difficulty.
“Did you need a key?” asks Dranko.
“The Eye was the key,” says Sagiro.
Dranko throws up his hands in disgust. “Oh, for crying out loud! That just gets right up my nose! The Eye was the Key? We went through all that crap for nothing!”
“I needed a phrase, and a key, yes,” says Sagiro. “Darkeye told me the phrase, and the Eye said it would serve in the stead of the key.”
“Your Eye talks to you,” says Dranko.
“So do ours,” says Kibi.
“Yeah, when they feel like it,” says Aravis.
“Once inside I traveled through many strange places, but my memories of those places are dim,” continues Sagiro. “The Eye already had its own idea of what it would do. I think... from the very moment we arrived inside, the Eye knew it wanted this place for itself.”
“Do you know what happens if you go through the Mirrors of Semek with an Eye?” asks Dranko.
Sagiro looks startled at the question, and digs around for memories on the subject.
“Yes,” he says at last. “Something significant happens, though I don’t know what.”
“’Cause a Sharshun did that, and disappeared,” says Dranko. “You were there, remember?”
“I was? Yes... I think... I was there, long ago. Or was it that long? But, yes, that’s what the Eyes are for. You stand with them in the Mirrors, and they activate. I don’t know what happens. I don’t know where they go, but they travel somewhere.”
“Or nowhere,” says Ernie.
“When you get out of here, what’s going to stop Darkeye from taking over your mind again?” Dranko asks.
“I don’t know. It may just reassert itself automatically, or she may try to reestablish it.” Sagiro looks worried at the prospect.
“But as far as you know, no one is controlling you now,” asks Morningstar.
“No,” says Sagiro with surety. “And I don’t wish to serve Darkeye again. She has a reputation for cruelty, and no one is even allowed to look upon her.”
“How come?” asks Dranko.
“It is the rule,” says Sagiro with a shrug. “I don’t know why, it’s just how things are,”
“I’ll bet she turns people to stone!” exclaims Ernie. “She probably has snaky hair.”
“So,” says Dranko, returning to more important matters. “Where do you keep your loot?”
“My loot?” asks Sagiro
“Yeah, your loot,” says Dranko impatiently. “You were the Lord of the Roses, with hundreds of servants!”
“I didn’t have hundreds of...” says Sagiro, confused.
“Well, dozens then,” says Dranko. “Either way, you were a powerful guy. You must have had a big ol’ stash of loot.”
“Actually, the Lord of the Roses had a very small retinue,” says Sagiro, thinking hard. “There were servants who came with the castle who are probably still in it, elsewhere. I... he did gather some powerful servants. That...sorceress... was the first. He sent her out, to bring others back. If I remember rightly, she convinced the six-armed creature that she had found a way out of the Slices, and when he got here, the Red Eye dominated him. And she brought back the whirlwind with the swords in a bottle she had found.
Srapa was the only one of any power who arrived on his own.”
“And the bear?” asks Dranko.
“I think the sorceress charmed it, and brought it back from some other Slice.”
“If it intended to subjugate the Eye that was already here,” asks Morningstar, “but felt it needed our two Eyes to do it, did it know we were here?”
“It suspected you were coming,” says Sagiro.
“So,” says Dranko, realizing that he’s not going to get anywhere in his ‘loot’ line of questioning, “what’s the deal with you and that Demon Lord, Tapheon?”
“He strove with the Red Eye constantly,” says Sagiro.
“It’s not going to take him long to figure out that the Lord of the Roses is no longer in power,” says Aravis. “We need to get moving, or Tapheon may be coming for Kibi now that there’s no Red Eye to fight against.”
“Do you know where the other Eye is?” asks Aravis.
“I... the Red Eye knew,” says Sagiro. “But I don’t remember.”
Ernie shouts into Scree: “Hey! Red Eye? Where’s the Blue Eye?”
To everyone’s surprise, Scree roils around a bit, and the Eyes actually speak into Kibi’s mind.
“We’re working on it.”
“Wow!” exclaims Kibi. “They answered!”
“And without any crazy prophecy,” adds Aravis.
“Yeah, Scree has it worse than I did,” says Grey Wolf.
“Agreed,” says Ernie. “Grey Wolf, your stomach never talked back to you.”
“On the other hand, we’re not thinking about killing Scree to fulfill a prophecy,” says Aravis.
“No, we’re not!” says Scree emphatically.
The second zone of truth runs out, and the Company is well satisfied that Sagiro is being honest with them. They keep talking for a while, about Darkeye and her plans. Sagiro thinks that if he didn’t come back, the Sharshun were going to have to hunt down the remaining two Eyes in order to get the three they needed. He has a hazy memory that the Sharshun were already planning an expedition into Calnis to grab the Yellow Eye. A quick rundown of all seven Eyes’ dispositions:
Green: owned by the Company
Purple: owned by the Company
Red: brought by Sagiro; now owned (sort of) by the Company
Blue: currently powering Het Branoi
Yellow: once in Calnis; probably recovered by the Sharshun.
Remaining two: unknown, but probably both found eventually by the Sharshun. One was probably already in their possession, being the one seen used in the Mirrors of Semek already.
The Company now comes to the unfortunate realization that there’s no way out of the throne room. With the Red Way gone, the only door out is the one through which the bear attacked, but that only leads into a large pen that smells strongly of bear. Ernie worries that elsewhere in the castle are ordinary servants who now have no guiding power in their mind, and no eyeballs.
“Sagiro, how did the Red Eye get to the rest of the castle?” asks Ernie.
“It opened doorways when it needed to,” says Sagiro. “A long time ago the Eye decided to make this an impenetrable sanctum, controlling the only doors in or out.”
On the one hand, that doesn’t bode well for their continued travel plans. On the other, it’s a darned good thing that sort of cavalier opening and closing of Ways didn’t attract Cleaners!
“Well, I say we throw the bodies into the bear’s room and clean the rest of this place up,” says Dranko. “’Cause it looks like we’ll be here for a few years, at least.”
“Years?!” squeaks Flicker.
“Unless you can think of some other way out of here...” says Dranko.
Kibi says, “Well, our two Eyes may be able to strong-arm the Red one into getting us out of...”
“WE’RE WORKING ON IT!” comes the voice of one of the Eyes, spoken through Scree.
“They’re getting snippy,” says Kibi worriedly. “Let’s just be patient.”
Ernie lights the fire pit, and starts preparations for cooking the bear meat. Dranko lounges on the throne, pulls out a crown from an old treasure horde, and puts it on his head.
“He’s cute when he’s delusional,” says Morningstar with a smile.
From the throne, Dranko calls to Ernie. “You know, when I smell that delicious bear meat, and see the smoke rising, I think to myself, ‘there sure isn’t another source of fresh air in here.’”
“The Eye used to open a Way for the smoke to escape,” says Sagiro.
Dranko leaps from his throne and calls his decanter of endless water from his wide-mouth pouch. The fire is soon out, and they set to discussing ways of cooking the meat without using up the air supply.
“I’m not eating bear meat cooked over a flaming sphere,” Morningstar insists.
That earns a gale of laughter. Which is highly disturbing, because everyone hears the laughter, and yet no one is laughing.
* *
The laughter dies down, and a voice sounds in their heads, a rich, beautiful voice with an unmistakable undercurrent of limitless malice.
“The Lord of the Roses no longer strives against me!” exults Lord Tapheon. “You’ve done well, my friends.”
“I want you to know,” thinks Dranko. “I’ve been thinking about what you did to me in your throne room, and I want you to know... I forgive you.”
Grey Wolf slowly sidles away from Dranko, as if he expects his friend to be consumed on the spot by unholy fire.
“It is not your place to forgive me, Dranko Blackhope,” responds Tapheon. “It is not the ant’s place to forgive the man for stepping upon it. And you cannot forgive me.
“Fortunately for you, I am generous, and do not hold your views against you any longer,” thinks Tapheon into their heads. “We are one step closer to our collective goal. But, unless I miss my guess, we are not as close as we believed we would be, are we?
“The Lord of the Roses is gone, but the power that creates the Slices is still unchecked! Now that I can cast my perception beyond the Lord of the Roses, I see there is a new barrier between it and you. It is... opaque, in a way that troubles me. But I will make you another offer. To bring you even closer. You must get closer, and end this. You mortals must... study, reflect, practice to improve yourselves. This costs you in money and time, waiting for your experiences and knowledge to crystallize. But now that the Lord of the Roses is no more, the balance of power in the Slices has shifted. Things may start to unravel, and time may be a luxury you no longer have.”
Tapheon isn’t in the room. He’s probably still in his Fortress, several Slices away. But every member of the Company gets the unsettling feeling that he’s looking at them, and not just communicating via telepathy.
“Why will things unravel?” asks Kibi.
“The Lord of the Roses’ power was the same as that used to power the Slices,” says Tapheon. “It may have tied itself in somehow, had its tendrils in the fabric of Het Branoi. Without it, who knows what will happen? But don’t think of this as an offer. It’s a gift. I can make things clear to you, in an instant. I can grant you the benefits of weeks of study and training in just a few minutes time. I ask nothing in return. Nothing. You will not be beholden to me in any way.”
“Ever?” asks Dranko.
“Ever, as far as I’m concerned. I ask for nothing. What I get out of it, is that you’ll be better prepared to face your upcoming trials. You can accept or reject my offer on an individual basis, as you will. I assure you there are no strings, no bargains.”
“Can we get that in writing?” asks Kibi.
“No, of course not!” thinks Tapheon, and they can feel his temper start to rise. “I would, but physical reality precludes that at the moment. So... any takers?"
“No,” says Ernie flatly. “There’s no way.”
Flicker is the only one who entertains the offer, but Dranko talks him out of it.
“If you do this,” Dranko whispers to Flicker, “you’ll have to listen to Ernie lecture you about it for the rest of your natural life. And since the people who say no will have to train anyway, we might as well spare ourselves the lecture.”
Step smiles grimly. “I’m still waiting for the demon to say something that’s actually relevant to me.”
“You know,” thinks Dranko, “I would have entertained your offer, but being turned into an inside-out gutted fish really put our relationship in a new light. Even considering I’ve forgiven you.”
Over the telepathic connection they can feel Tapheon seething. “I wish to amend some of my previous statements. Any words I’ve spoken of reconciliation, amnesty, and working toward a common good, I retract in the case of Dranko Blackhope. When I get out of here, we’ll... see about things.”
“Oh, yeah?” thinks Dranko. In for a penny. “You’re threatening me?”
“Dranko!” hisses Ernie, but it’s too late for that.
“Yes,” replies Tapheon. “Yes I am.”
“Well then,” says Dranko. “I guess it won’t do me any more harm to tell you that you can kiss my ass.”
A number of gasps resound through Tapheon’s telepathic link.
“Dranko, I refuse to marry a fish,” whispers Morningstar.
“I am secure in the love and solace of my God,” says Dranko.
“And I,” says Tapheon, “am secure in the love and solace of myself, which is essentially the same thing.”
“That’ll put hair on your palms,” says Dranko smirking.
Now everyone starts to sidle away from Dranko, just in case.
“Perhaps,” hisses Tapheon, and there’s no sweetness now in his voice. “Perhaps when your current personality and soul have been burned away by a few millennia of torment, a person like you might have a future as part of my retinue. You certainly have the mouth for it. Perhaps I’ll be kind and give you a form with a mouth, when the time comes.”
“That’s great,” answers Dranko. “I’ll put ‘quaking in my boots’ on my calendar for...oh... next Friday.”
“This discussion grows tiresome,” says Tapheon. “I’ll just have to hope you succeed on your own. In the meantime, Dranko, I’ll have some of my minions start sharpening your stake.”
“I like steak,” says Dranko, but Tapheon’s presence is gone from their minds.
“Er,” says Dranko, when he notices everyone starting at him with wide eyes. “I think I may have a problem with authority figures.”
* *
“You know, I’ve always been impressed with your faith,” says Ernie. “But sometimes I wish you’d keep your mouth shut about it!. A simple ‘no thank you’ would have sufficed.
“I thought is was great!” says Flicker, reaching up to pat Dranko on the back. “You told a demon lord to kiss your ass, and you’re still alive!”
“I guess we’ll add ‘rescue Dranko’s soul from eternal torment’ to our list of things to do,” Ernie sighs.
A glowing red gem pops out of Scree and starts to roll across the floor toward the throne. Before anyone can react, Scree becomes entirely amethyst for a second, and the Red Eye goes shooting back into Scree as if it had been attached to an invisible rubber band. There’s some more churning of contesting gemstones before Scree’s body settles back down.
“There’s still some convincing left to do,” observes Scree.
The Company starts to think they should begin to train where they are, and hope the Eyes figure something out before there’s no more air in the room. Aravis sits down and goes into the Crosser’s Maze, thinking to learn something useful. As before he sees the strange partitioned universe of Het Branoi, but he’s disappointed that there are no adjacent Slices to this one. Even parts of the castle that once were in the same Slice are no longer connected. Truly the Red Eye had made this a place of isolated security.
It is some hours later, after the Company has cleaned the place up and unpacked bedrolls, when Kibi looks suddenly alert.
“The Eyes are talking again!” he says. Then, after a pause: “Scree says the Eyes have things under control.” Another pause. “They have the Red Eye subdued.” Pause. “They are learning what it knows.”
The others look at Kibi and Scree expectantly.
“The Red Eye knows where the Blue Eye is!” says Kibi excitedly. “In fact, the Red Eye could have gone near to where the Blue Eye is at any time, but was afraid for its own safety. The specifics are still obscured; there is an unknown power between this throne room, and where the Blue Eye resides. The Eyes – our Eyes – think they can imitate the Red Eye’s trick of opening Ways. It’ll take another day or so. But they say it’s a solvable problem.”
* *
Knowing that they’ll be leaving soon, Ernie makes a small cook-fire and stews some of their beef jerky.
“It’s ‘bear surprise’,” he says. When the others start to point out that he hasn’t actually carved any meat from the animal, he adds: “Surprise! There’s no bear!”
Sagiro wolfs down the food, making happy slurping sounds. “It’s been so long,” he says, “I’d forgotten what it feels like to eat!”
Kibi breaks out some of the ale (Eye of the Storm vintage) from the bag of holding, and passes it around. Snokas takes a deep drink, then comments: “Not bad for dwarfish stuff, but it lacks a good bite.”
“You mean the rancid overtones of orcish swill?” says Kibi, affronted. “True, I avoided that.”
“The problem is, you use tame ingredients,” says Snokas.
“I use tasty ingredients, if that’s what you mean,” says Kibi.
“We need a bar fight!” exclaims Dranko, grinning.
Grey Wolf turns to Morningstar. “You need to have more control over your half-orcs,” he says. Morningstar just shakes her head.
“Look,” says Snokas, “I’m not saying it isn’t any good. It is good. But...”
“But you prefer bad beer,” says Kibi. “I understand.”
“I prefer different amounts of fermentation,” Snokas explains. “Different ingredients, yes. Different... well, yours just isn’t chunky enough.”
“This, from a race that likes black lizard pie,” says Grey Wolf.
“Black lizard pie?” says Snokas. “I love black lizard pie! You know, what’s-his-name, that orc servant you had polymorphed into a human. Skorg. He made a great black lizard pie. Wasn’t good for much else, being a full orc and all, but it’s a shame he doesn’t exist anymore.”
Kibi rolls his eyes and says to Dranko and Morningstar, “Oh, great. I’ll bet you’ll be making black lizard pie for all your little... quarter-orcs kids.”
“I can’t stand black lizard pie,” confesses Dranko. “I tastes like... it tastes like feet.”
“You’ve lost your appreciation for the finer things in life,” says Snokas, shaking his head.
“Feet!" insists Dranko. “I don’t like lizard feet.”
“It’s 'cause you haven’t had enough of them,” says Snokas.
“Snokas, we’ve all tried black lizard pie,” says Ernie. “The good stuff, straight from Abernathy’s ice box. And I’ve got to agree with Dranko: feet.”
There’s a round of general agreement from the others.
“Well, I’d expect that from humans and elves and halflings,” says Snokas. “But Dranko, you’ve got orcish blood in your veins.”
Step sits down and shakes his head. “These may be among my last days alive, and here I sit, listening to a discussion about half-orcish cuisine. Though, having tried it, I agree with the 'feet' opinion.”
Snokas throws up his hands.
* *
The Company sleeps, and with the Eyes moderately quiescent, it’s probably the safest place to camp in all the Slices. Over breakfast, the Eyes announce: “We’re ready.”
“Where are you taking us?” asks Kibi.
“A Slice near to the Blue Eye.”
“What’s it like?” asks Kibi. “Should we make any special preparations?”
“There are many living beings there.”
In the center of the room a Way opens, appearing like a window shade pulled down from an invisible window. It’s surface is mottled with red, purple and green, swirling in a chaotic mix. Every so often it flickers in and out of existence.
“Well that just fills me with confidence,” says Grey Wolf.
“Don’t go through yet,” says the Eyes.
“Does anyone here ever question their career choice?” asks Morningstar.
“It should be safe in a minute. No. Wait!”
The Way disappears. The Company watches nervously. Two minutes later it reappears, still swirling with color but no longer flickering.
“C’mon, Sagiro,” says Dranko. “You’re coming with us. We’re not going to leave you here.”
“Though when we get back from all this, we’ll need to have a long talk,” says Morningstar, distrustful even now.
“Yes!” agrees Sagiro. “It is possible, as you have said, that when I am once again in the same reality as Darkeye, I may become dominated again. I do not wish for that! It would be better if you share no secrets with me, in case that happens."
“Don’t worry,” says Grey Wolf. “We won’t.”
And with no further delay, the Company steps into the multicolored Way.
...to be continued...
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blargney the second
blargney the minute's son
That was wonderful!! Thank you, Sagiro
-blarg
ps - Thanks to all the players for the epic banter!
-blarg
ps - Thanks to all the players for the epic banter!
LightPhoenix
First Post
Lots of people?
Ten bucks says the blue Eye is at the Eye of the Storm.
Ten bucks says the blue Eye is at the Eye of the Storm.
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
You know, I think I'd blocked out exactly how badly I'd offended Tapheon. Huh. In retrospect, maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all.
I've just finished re-reading the John Constantine ("Hellblazer") graphic novel named 'Dangerous Habits,' in which our hero is dying of lung cancer but manages to infuriate the devil enough that he decides dying would be a really bad idea. I have got to find better sources for inspiration when playing Dranko.
Dranko has a plan, though; oh, yes. Thought up with his mighty 9 intelligence.
I've just finished re-reading the John Constantine ("Hellblazer") graphic novel named 'Dangerous Habits,' in which our hero is dying of lung cancer but manages to infuriate the devil enough that he decides dying would be a really bad idea. I have got to find better sources for inspiration when playing Dranko.
Dranko has a plan, though; oh, yes. Thought up with his mighty 9 intelligence.
KidCthulhu
First Post
Actually, I'm more worried about the plan thought up with your mighty, what, 14 wisdom?
Oh well. We recently crossed some stuff off the list, so we have room for "Rescue Dranko's soul from eternal torment". Although if you keep this up, we might amend that to "Send Dranko's soul a muffin basket and get back to work"
Oh well. We recently crossed some stuff off the list, so we have room for "Rescue Dranko's soul from eternal torment". Although if you keep this up, we might amend that to "Send Dranko's soul a muffin basket and get back to work"
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Ya know, I'd really love it if it turned out Sagiro Emberleaf was pulling another con on the PC's...
Richard Rawen
First Post
I'm WAY behind, however . . .
Imagery... I
:\
oh man, speechless... gut wrenching laughter combined with this overwhelming feeling of:
Oh My Lord that is WRONG!
ahem.
sorry... Ok, yes, I'm ages behind in my reading, but after almost posting reply a dozen times before this one just hit me as Too Funny to pass by.
Since I'm here...
THANKS! I'm having a BLAST reading and stealing ideas...
Blessings
Richard aka
M < > <
MavrickWeirdo said:I bet Farazil exists in this world.
What you need is a "Guinan" character walking around saying "this is wrong, everything is wrong".
KidCthulhu said:
Imagery... I
:\oh man, speechless... gut wrenching laughter combined with this overwhelming feeling of:
Oh My Lord that is WRONG!
ahem.
sorry... Ok, yes, I'm ages behind in my reading, but after almost posting reply a dozen times before this one just hit me as Too Funny to pass by.
Since I'm here...
THANKS! I'm having a BLAST reading and stealing ideas...
Blessings
Richard aka
M < > <
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