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[ZEITGEIST] The Continuing Adventures of Korrigan & Co.
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<blockquote data-quote="gideonpepys" data-source="post: 7874534" data-attributes="member: 79141"><p><strong>Session 249, Part Two</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Glimpse of the Age of Reason</strong></p><p></p><p>Picking their way through the woods on the way to the safehouse, keeping a safe distance from the train tracks, they came across a train that had stopped to clear the tracks of snow. On closer inspection, they saw that although this was a freight train, brand new passenger cars had been added to the rear. Rows and rows of passengers sat in clean and comfortable but very basic compartments, each lit by with the dim blue, pacifying glow of a wayfarer lamp. The soldiers at the front of the train worked to clear the track in almost total silence. </p><p></p><p>Soon they reached the outskirts of the village, where a great deal of land had been recently ploughed to increase food yield. More arcanoscientific gas lamps shed a dull red light over the crops to keep them warm. A couple of soldiers were trying to start up a steam-driven auto-plough, watched without interest by an early-morning working party. Xambria said that they were linked by a hivemind, though the connection was weak – nothing like the powerful, uncontrolled hiveminds they had seen just after the Great Eclipse. Nicodemus had wrought very clever changes in the way the phenomenon manifested.</p><p></p><p>There was a sudden disturbance when a gnome suddenly appeared – caught out in the open when his invisibility magic ended. Korrigan knew him to be Weebit Vallshallow. He panicked for a moment and froze. “He’s wrong,” said a bystander. “We must help the little bastard.” Weebit tried to cast a spell, but everyone nearby converged on him as one, grabbed him and hoisted him off the ground.</p><p></p><p>Weebit cried out, “Let me go! I’m not causing any trouble!”</p><p></p><p>Another villager said, “You shouldn’t hide. That’s so old-fashioned. Cooperation is the new thing.” Weebit kept yelling, and so someone muffled his mouth. He bit the person, who ignored the pain. Someone else said, “He must be sick of loneliness. The rumours spooked him. Here, little one. Let us help. We shall subsume your fear so your mind will no longer be capable of dissent. It’s much more cooperative.”</p><p></p><p>Watching from a distance, the unit exchanged grim glances, and decided against any action. “We will save him by saving the world,” said Korrigan.</p><p></p><p>Weebit began to calm and relax. Xambria could see the hivemind absorb him. His vision drifted into the middle distance, and then he nodded slowly. “I understand now. Thank you. Let me go where I can be useful.” The crowd put him down and clapped briefly. One of the soldiers told Weebit that his magic might make him a security risk, so he should travel — in a group of course, so he was safe — to the re-education schools at Dawn Square in Flint.</p><p></p><p>Moving on stealthily, they came to the edge of the village and quickly found the ramshackle barn with the red roof. As they approached, Leon saw an invisible sigil on the door. It was a warning. “Do not enter. Walk on. Isaac.”</p><p></p><p>They did so, covered by an illusion, and came to the empty village green, where there were many different roads to choose. While they stood there trying to decide, they heard the squeaking wheel of an approaching handcart. It was pulled by an elderly woman who Uru recognised as the puppeteer, Miss Fortune. Gupta checked with Xambria; she was not dominated. Without acknowledging them, Miss Fortune stopped and opened her cart, setting up her makeshift theatre. A couple of villagers stopped to watch for a moment, but finding nothing to interest them, moved on.</p><p></p><p>Disguised as country bumpkins, the unit approached as the puppet show began. The story of a land under a magical curse unfolded: all of its people were listless and half-asleep, thanks to the spell of a wicked magician. The king of the land returned from a long journey and sought to free his people from the curse. He found that he could do so simply by revealing himself to them, such was their love for him. But when he moved on, those he had freed caught the sleep again from others. The king learned that he could only free them for good by finding a way to speak to the whole land at once.</p><p></p><p>When the puppet show was over, Miss Fortune began to pack away. “You’ll find the Mayor of the Nettles in the woods behind his mansion,” she said softly, as if to no one in particular. Then she pushed her squeaky barrow away.</p><p></p><p>Uru still had a teleportation circle in the Nettles, at the bottom of the disused well where his garden used to be. They went there, confident that travelling to a circle would not alert the Ob. Coming up onto the streets, they found that the whole area was mostly abandoned. Uru’s street lights were unlit. Below them, they could see other city lights, and the glow from half-a-dozen or more huge wayfarer lamps, erected in every district but this one. The Ob hadn’t built anything new here, and had seemingly evacuated the district.</p><p></p><p>There must have been some hold-outs hidden away, though: As they made their way towards the mayoral mansion, they came across a group of children playing ‘The Unit’. The youngest was protesting at being forced to play Uriel. The others insisted that Uriel was the only one left. “I don’t get what he does!” cried the runt. “I want to play Quratulain!” The eldest boy explained that he was already playing Matunaaga. “You can’t have Matunaaga and Quratulain in the unit at the same time!” Another, bespectacled child argued that there was, in fact, a period of overlap, and his superior knowledge of detail appeared to cause an even bigger argument. While they bickered, Uru approached in the guise of another urchin. “Hello. Mind if I join in?” he said. “I want to play Uncle Uru!”</p><p></p><p>They regarded the newcomer with horror. “No one plays Uncle Uru!” they said, glancing about them. “He might notice!” Having got their attention, Uru sang them a new song and told them to go and sing it in the rest of the city. The song told of the return of the Heroes of Flint. He gave them a coin each to bolster their resolve. The street kids took a second, sceptical glance at the newcomer, but pocketed the coin and scampered off.</p><p></p><p>While this went on, Rumdoom had remained staring fixedly over the rooftops of the city, surrounded by his loyal retinue. Suddenly he announced, “I’m going to my church.” And without further word, he departed.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="gideonpepys, post: 7874534, member: 79141"] [B]Session 249, Part Two Glimpse of the Age of Reason[/B] Picking their way through the woods on the way to the safehouse, keeping a safe distance from the train tracks, they came across a train that had stopped to clear the tracks of snow. On closer inspection, they saw that although this was a freight train, brand new passenger cars had been added to the rear. Rows and rows of passengers sat in clean and comfortable but very basic compartments, each lit by with the dim blue, pacifying glow of a wayfarer lamp. The soldiers at the front of the train worked to clear the track in almost total silence. Soon they reached the outskirts of the village, where a great deal of land had been recently ploughed to increase food yield. More arcanoscientific gas lamps shed a dull red light over the crops to keep them warm. A couple of soldiers were trying to start up a steam-driven auto-plough, watched without interest by an early-morning working party. Xambria said that they were linked by a hivemind, though the connection was weak – nothing like the powerful, uncontrolled hiveminds they had seen just after the Great Eclipse. Nicodemus had wrought very clever changes in the way the phenomenon manifested. There was a sudden disturbance when a gnome suddenly appeared – caught out in the open when his invisibility magic ended. Korrigan knew him to be Weebit Vallshallow. He panicked for a moment and froze. “He’s wrong,” said a bystander. “We must help the little bastard.” Weebit tried to cast a spell, but everyone nearby converged on him as one, grabbed him and hoisted him off the ground. Weebit cried out, “Let me go! I’m not causing any trouble!” Another villager said, “You shouldn’t hide. That’s so old-fashioned. Cooperation is the new thing.” Weebit kept yelling, and so someone muffled his mouth. He bit the person, who ignored the pain. Someone else said, “He must be sick of loneliness. The rumours spooked him. Here, little one. Let us help. We shall subsume your fear so your mind will no longer be capable of dissent. It’s much more cooperative.” Watching from a distance, the unit exchanged grim glances, and decided against any action. “We will save him by saving the world,” said Korrigan. Weebit began to calm and relax. Xambria could see the hivemind absorb him. His vision drifted into the middle distance, and then he nodded slowly. “I understand now. Thank you. Let me go where I can be useful.” The crowd put him down and clapped briefly. One of the soldiers told Weebit that his magic might make him a security risk, so he should travel — in a group of course, so he was safe — to the re-education schools at Dawn Square in Flint. Moving on stealthily, they came to the edge of the village and quickly found the ramshackle barn with the red roof. As they approached, Leon saw an invisible sigil on the door. It was a warning. “Do not enter. Walk on. Isaac.” They did so, covered by an illusion, and came to the empty village green, where there were many different roads to choose. While they stood there trying to decide, they heard the squeaking wheel of an approaching handcart. It was pulled by an elderly woman who Uru recognised as the puppeteer, Miss Fortune. Gupta checked with Xambria; she was not dominated. Without acknowledging them, Miss Fortune stopped and opened her cart, setting up her makeshift theatre. A couple of villagers stopped to watch for a moment, but finding nothing to interest them, moved on. Disguised as country bumpkins, the unit approached as the puppet show began. The story of a land under a magical curse unfolded: all of its people were listless and half-asleep, thanks to the spell of a wicked magician. The king of the land returned from a long journey and sought to free his people from the curse. He found that he could do so simply by revealing himself to them, such was their love for him. But when he moved on, those he had freed caught the sleep again from others. The king learned that he could only free them for good by finding a way to speak to the whole land at once. When the puppet show was over, Miss Fortune began to pack away. “You’ll find the Mayor of the Nettles in the woods behind his mansion,” she said softly, as if to no one in particular. Then she pushed her squeaky barrow away. Uru still had a teleportation circle in the Nettles, at the bottom of the disused well where his garden used to be. They went there, confident that travelling to a circle would not alert the Ob. Coming up onto the streets, they found that the whole area was mostly abandoned. Uru’s street lights were unlit. Below them, they could see other city lights, and the glow from half-a-dozen or more huge wayfarer lamps, erected in every district but this one. The Ob hadn’t built anything new here, and had seemingly evacuated the district. There must have been some hold-outs hidden away, though: As they made their way towards the mayoral mansion, they came across a group of children playing ‘The Unit’. The youngest was protesting at being forced to play Uriel. The others insisted that Uriel was the only one left. “I don’t get what he does!” cried the runt. “I want to play Quratulain!” The eldest boy explained that he was already playing Matunaaga. “You can’t have Matunaaga and Quratulain in the unit at the same time!” Another, bespectacled child argued that there was, in fact, a period of overlap, and his superior knowledge of detail appeared to cause an even bigger argument. While they bickered, Uru approached in the guise of another urchin. “Hello. Mind if I join in?” he said. “I want to play Uncle Uru!” They regarded the newcomer with horror. “No one plays Uncle Uru!” they said, glancing about them. “He might notice!” Having got their attention, Uru sang them a new song and told them to go and sing it in the rest of the city. The song told of the return of the Heroes of Flint. He gave them a coin each to bolster their resolve. The street kids took a second, sceptical glance at the newcomer, but pocketed the coin and scampered off. While this went on, Rumdoom had remained staring fixedly over the rooftops of the city, surrounded by his loyal retinue. Suddenly he announced, “I’m going to my church.” And without further word, he departed. [/QUOTE]
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