The Center of Time

Duncan continues to look over the view, letting the wind blow around him for a long moment... then turns back to Sevarr, tossing the useless junk in his hand to the ground. The gladiator's look is blank, his voice monotone, as he speaks to the merchant.

"I made a call and killed all the abhumans myself. There was a factory down there, a machine making an army that would wipe out your group and any humans in their path. Thousands dead by my hand." He leaves it for a moment, then continues. "We need to move on. Without the machine there should be no more jungle, but I know nothing of such machines. If we're lucky, the ones already on the surface will have vanished along with the jungle."
 

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Echo looks at Duncan, then says, "It wasn't just his decision. It was all of ours. An old machine was starting down there, and...we stopped it. What that means, we're not completely sure, but for now it means that the jungle will disappear and the abhumans shouldn't be a threat anymore. We should continue with the journey."
 

OOC: If anyone wanted to try to scoop up anything on the way out, please give me a Int roll, DT 4 (target number 12).

Seregal rushes forward through the crashing complex, cursing how it has been destroyed, forever taking its secrets away from him. He scavenges a few handfuls of junk as he hurries after the group.

1d20=13

He gathers his breath as Echo and Duncan explain things to the caravan master and finds the explanation acceptable. "It was close," he says, mopping his brow for effect, "but we made it."
 

Wisco, a Tough Nano who Lives in the Wilderness

Wisco exits the complex indifferent to whatever may be being left behind.

After emerging from the hatch in the ground, Wisco spends a moment taking in the changes to the region. With nothing to add to the conversation between Duncan and Sevarr, he turns and heads back to to the caravan camp.
 

Antor, seeing the abhumans dying around him, is not quite sure what to do. When he sees his companions coming up from down below and heading for the exit, he makes haste to follow. He'll wait to talk with Echo about what exactly happened down there when they're somewhere safer.
Appearing back on the surface and seeing that the tangled forest is no longer there leaves Antor in awe yet again. Was it just some kind of illusion to cloud their minds and impede there progress to the inverted mountain? Antor is ready to leave this place behind.
 

Ohm Eleven, A Mechanical Nano who Talks to Machines: M:7/S:9/I:18/X:1

As they fled the complex Ohm Eleven did a cursory search as best he could.

OOC: Using Effort and Numenera skill to drop target number down to 6. 2 Intellect Pool spent.

Int roll (1d20=14)
 

Xaion

IC:
On the way out he searches for anything of value.

OOC:
I will spend an effort to lower the value as well. 1d20=11 I made it with effort.

IC:
When he finally reaches the surface "I believe we did the right thing. Those things were simple automatons, no free spirit existed within them. We saved many lives."
 

Sevarr Trim listens to Duncan's unwavering assertion that he killed the abhumans, all of them, with his mouth slightly open. It's possibly he might have misinterpreted that statement to Duncan having killed all the abhumans single-handedly. Either way, he's not going to argue the point.

"Ah, well. Very good then." He blinks at you all, then at the landscape, then swallows and turns his caravan towards the east. The rest of you can remount aneen or wagons or resume your walking posts as the caravan moves forward in the Sheer. Kolos Githian doesn't say a word, just eyes all of you inscrutably and spurs his aneen on to get his herd moving. The outriders and drivers barely look at you at all, averting their gazes nervously. With yells at the aneen, the caravan and herd moves onward.

The Sheer is remarkably quiet as you press ahead, the days passing in remarkable calm. Once, Sevarr asks Wisco to help him at one of the waterfall pools that plunge from the top of the Clock. Taking a look, you see the pool is full of squirming squid-like creatures, pale as ice. If you ask any of the other caravan drivers or apprentices, they'll tell you they're called "dessen." Wisco and Sevarr manage to wrangle a half-dozen, and Sevarr spends the night gleefully extracting ink from them, before turning over the carcasses to make fresh dessan stakes for the entire group.

It's a little over week since the jungle when, at long last, you can see a hint of widening horizon in the distance, and there the middle of it, is a great tower of purple glass. Well, "tower" perhaps is too generous. It perhaps looks like a tall jellyfish. Or a sea cucumber. Or a tentacled cylinder.

"Wislayn!" Sevarr says, sounding pleased. The caravan's pace picks up a bit, and after several hours, you reach the base of the tower. There is no entrance, no hint of people, no amenities of any kind, just a road leading up to, then past, the odd purple glass... thing. Kolos Githian's herd is clumped up on the other side of the tower, the outriders keeping the herd together, while Kolos himself and two of his men ride up to press their hands to the smooth surface. Between one blink and the next, they are gone.

"All the times I've been here, and this is still a damnably odd way to enter a city," Sevarr mutters, and then pauses to look back at the group. "Come on, then, press your hands." The drivers and apprentices nudge the wagons up to the surface as well, aneen included.

If everyone does that, Sevarr will tell the others to simply will themselves inside. Those that do find themselves inside a large open space where the ground and "sky" are the same purple crystal as the walls of Wislayn. There are some formal structures of wood with walls and roofs, while other buildings are little more than stretched canvas or anything else to preserve privacy; it's clear weather trouble no one here. Multiple levels ring the walls, and a bustling market is in full swing on the edges of the plaza where you have landed.

Many of the inhabitants are quite tall and very attractive, dressed in rich and elaborate clothing, looking like fireroses amongst the chumweed of more normal people. You realize these must be Augurs, the natives of Augur-Kala.

Sevarr heaves a sigh of relief and turns to you. "Well, you got me and mine here safely, and did what no one else had been able to do. If that's not worth it, I don't know what is. I promised you ten shins when we got here, but you saved me a delay and no end of trouble in the future." He hands each of you a small, heavy pouch made of his own canvas. A look inside reveals 20 shins apiece. "I'm making some sales here, and then I'm headed off to Urzat Zarteri to sell the rest. If you're heading that way, I could see fit to taking you on again." He smiles at you and gives you a short bow. "I'm three days here, if you want in." With that, he'll cluck to his aneen and amble his caravan over to an Augur carrying a glowing book, pointing at his wares and nodding at the Augur as his drivers start to unload bales of cloth.

The market here is doing lively business, but in addition to stalls selling food, clothing, repair supplies, travelers' sundries, spices, and furniture, there are also storefronts selling more luxury goods of fine jewelry, books, and wine. There is something called a "meditation pod," a storefront covered with what appears to be a curtain of milk that has a sign over it saying "Polish," a booth that seems to sell color (literally, people bring things to it and hand over shins for the man to touch it with a metal rod, and then the item changes hue), and a warm circle of dark green flame that people pass into and out of periodically that bears no sign. Inns and taverns seem to be set a little higher on the walls, marked with symbols picked out in glittering purple light.

The crowd seems to be a mix of Augurs and more normal people, both buying and selling, with a few seeming noble Augurs in truly impossible costumes. There is at least one booth of very obvious mutants, set a bit off to one side selling small boxes to a rather furtive clientele.

[sblock=OOC:]Everyone gets 8XP for exploring the abhuman factory. Spend it wisely and well.[/sblock]

[sblock=Seregal]You find a small case which contains a small synth disc - Ray Emitter (molecular bond disruption) (lvl 5) - A contact lens that makes your eye swirl in multi-colored patterns. Blinking in a deliberate pattern activates the cypher.[/sblock]

[sblock=Xaion]You find a short rod you can slide inside another, with a power source attached inside the inner one. Pressure Detonation (lvl 5) - Short rod with button on the end (projects to long distance) - Explodes in an immediate radius, inflicting impact damage equal to cypher level. Also moves unattended objects out of the area if they weigh less than 20 pounds (9 kg) per cypher level.[/sblock]

[sblock=Ohm Eleven]You find this - Frigid Wall Projector (lvl 4) - A solid rectangle of blue wood with bands of copper-colored metal around it, and two antennae of synth projecting from the top. By twisting the antennae together and pointing, it activates.[/sblock]
 

Seregal spends his time on the journey making notes and updating his map. He also updates his journal with his notes, maps and sketches of the underground complex. He also spends some time preaching to the folk on the caravan, and telling them some of the rambling stories and edicts of the Aeon Church that he's pulled togther over the years.

He sorts through the cyphers he's collected, uncomfortably scratching at the back of his head. It's bad luck to have too many, and now he'll have trade away the ones he has no use for.

[sblock=Everyone]Anyone want to trade the following for anything interesting? Otherwise I'll try and trade them at the local market.

A cylinder of greenish goo that you rig up with an easily-smashable top - Living Solvent (lvl 1) - Once released, this organic slime dissolves 1 cubic foot of material each round. After one round per cypher level, the slime dies and becomes inert.

A single round red injector with an a dotted orb - Skill Boost (Perceiving) (lvl 5) - Once activated, this boost will reduce the specific action by three steps for a number of times equal to the cypher's level. The boost lasts for 28 hours.

A round metallic disk covered with tiny tendrils - Motion Sensor (lvl 3) - Indicates when any movement occurs within short range, or when large creatures or objects move within long range (the cypher distinguishes between the two). It also indicates the number and size of the creatures or objects in motion. Once activated, it operates for one hour. [/sblock]

He seeks out Echo, making sure that none of the others are in earshot: "Are you still prepared to find the lost city?" he asks quietly. "I get the feeling that this may be our last chance to walk away from this." He asks this anyway, knowing that Echo will stay the course, like he will.

"I'm going to try and find Jastor Kannop. The more we know about the map and those creatures, the better we'll be able to handle the city's secrets."

Seregal goes off to make inquiries at the market place.
 
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Xaion

Xaion spends his time on the trip quietly patrolling, he doesn't speak much. The occasional joke or quip breaks his silence. To keep his mind alert he will stop to fiddle with the strange rod with a smaller rod inside it and see if it does anything. He is assuming it is a simple oddity and is trying to figure it out. Still it's something to pass away the hours on the trip.

He accepts his payment and adds it to his pouch. "I'm not interested in trading anything right now." He will leave the group momentarily to look for any unusual shops in the area. Or even the favorite place to get a drink. Right now he knows he needs a break before the next job. Perhaps something interesting would catch his vision as he walks around. A book would be mighty interesting to have on a long trip, so if there are any book stores around he will stop in there before heading to the bar.
 

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