Mutants & Masterminds Mutants & Masterminds: Struggles of Iannin - Act I Scene I - Crack of Noon

[Nadya Lunălescu]

Amused by Arak's irritated embarrassment - those innocent farm boys always seemed to end up enjoying their corruption by more worldly women - T'riss leaned forward and gave Tora's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. She once had the same thoughts, but had made her peace with her decisions. Mostly. Sometimes, plans really fell through.

"Cuz, let me assure ye, you - both of us - are still on the Long Road." T'riss leaned back in her chair once more and stretched, arms above her head, breasts bulging above the confines of her tight bodice, her slow smile widening. "We're just takin' a more scenic route."

After the huge Ankassar made his pronouncement, T'riss snickered, throwing him an insolently insouciant wink. T'riss was rarely kowtowed to the authorities - and Tarmon's bearing was more than officious - unless she believed throwing herself on the mercy of the court - or least throwing herself at the judge - would earn her a more lenient sentence - read, no fine or hard labour.

"Now would be the most absolutin' wrong to be confessin' me thinks," T'riss countered, holding up her hands in protest under Tarmon's dark regard. "Not that I be confessin.' I spent the night at the Blooming Rose. I got me a lingerin' hangover ta prove it, an' a number of fine lads and lasses can vouch for me whereabouts."

[Arak Noak]

Arak couldn't help but be nervous, the taint of chaos was no joking matter. The Ankassim displayed an arrogance and dissmissiveness about the topic that made the young man certain the lizard was a priest of some kind. In all likelihood the lizard was a disciple of Ankassar himself. Cold blood and cold justice, no wonder he was so haughty. "We just came to the city today," he said finally, to nobody in particular. He continued, apparently trying to make himself feel better somehow, "I didn't even touch the man, or either of you who did."

[Wa'ne]

"Fools." Wa'ne spit. "The man was not tainted by Chaos. It was quite obvious that my 'superior' is attempting to make a point. It is all unfortunate that you are here. This could be time spent on repairing the ship."

Wa'ne started to walk towards the door, "It is obvious the Captain was attacked by something born or created by Chaos, nothing more."

The Nay'fen brandished the staff and knocked on the ghost wall, "How long will we be made to suffer this mockery?"

No response came.

[Forge]

"What da ya know o' dis attack?!" One of the crew stepped forward, wearing traditional long shorts rotted at the ends by seawater and a tight fitting cotton shirt. He was sporting a three-day graying beard and near growled as he continued, "If ya have the details, spit it out ya painted fairy!"

The crew drew up behind the man, who T'riss & Tarmon knew to be the first mate, Drebar, a firm, but also mostly fair man.

"Pardon?" An indignant Wa'ne huffed, tapping his staff and summoning the large, (supposedly extinct) Mai'in again. The creature seemed to step out from behind the staff and calmly sat down on its haunches in front of Wa'ne. "Despite our situation sailor, I still hold authority here and your ignorant threats will get you nothing but a limp for the next week and laughed from a whore's bed for three.

If not for my actions, the ship would be charred ruins being scavenged by A'fen Wreckers, and instead enough remains that it may be repaired. Because of me, your captain lives and you have a ship to return to.

"Your action?!" Another sailor scoffed, "Ya wave ya skinny arms 'n wag ya teeny butt, threaten' with make believe critters...We was the ones sloggin buckets, ya daft Fen!"

"Hold yer tongue, Donder." Drebar said, holding an arm out to stop the angered seaman. Talking with a calm sense not present a moment before, he continued, "The 'Ten' has said 'er piece. We should be thankin' fer da help."

He took off the grimy rag that was tied over his head and clutched it in his hands and held it before him in a bow styled from the northern shores of the Sea of Tears. "'Sides...if the fair lady be knowin' nuthin', she'd be tellin'. T'obvious dat nuthin' be in dat sun-kissed head 'sides bilge-water pie."

"Thank y--" Wa'ne started, then stuttered and stopped which got a raucous bout of laughing from the crew.

Wa'ne fumed. Tattoos lit up across the Nay'fen's arms as he glared at the first mate. "You filthy sack of seaweed! How dare you! If you knew half of..."

The Ten trailed off as he felt a presence enter from behind him. A glance behind revealed what everyone else had already see. The ghost wall had dropped and a Sen'ten had entered.

Whether a he or she, it was too difficult to tell, an orange sash draped over their shoulder, obscuring the obvious tell. Their entire body was covered in ink. Mostly larger designs unlike Wa'ne's smaller tattoos, but the spaces between the bigger weaves of ink were filled with deftly woven smaller tattoos.

The markings on his face denoted someone of importance. His hair was nearly shaved, but for a top knot and the pin prick lucenite tattoos that denoted his achievements and victories over chaos spread from the traditional left cheek up and over his skull.

Wa'ne immediately fell to the floor and prostrated herself, the summoned creature just gone when someone glanced for it. "Forgive me, Emissary." came Wa'ne muffled greeting from the stone floor.

The Emissary's voice was surprisingly soft and belied the stoic demeanor and entrance. "The Captain will live, his recovery will yet take a few turns. You, of the crew of his vessel may return to your duties. We have dispatched assistance towards repairs, help them, and you may sail before the Twins rise again. The Sen at the pier will have instructions. You may leave."

The last was obviously not a suggestion and as the Emissary took a step to the side, the crew began to file out. Donder gathering the courage to kick the still prone Wa'ne as he passed.

"You four," The Emissary pointed, singling out Tarmon, T'riss, Tora and Arak. "You will attend, his Holiness would have words...You as well Ray."

The sound of gulped air could be heard throughout the room from Wa'ne and her body quivered.

Click to reveal..

If you have questions about who is what or anything, ask in OOC. The Emissary is the 2nd in command of all the Sen'ten, his Holiness being the head. Audiences are not common, especially to those outside the Order.

[z-Tora Zheng]

Tora relaxed as the Captain’s fate was announced. She had been worried about herself, but the ease with which they announced he’d be fine left her feeling good about her own end. In particular, it left her feeling good that her end wasn’t near. Tension she hadn’t really felt eased out of her shoulders and the pretty girl managed a slight smile.

The announcement that they’d be attending the head of the Sen’ten raised a brown eyebrow. She managed not to ask something dumb like, “Us?” or “Are you sure?” Instead, she merely replied, “We’d be honored to meet with His Holiness.” An incline of her head was delivered gracefully, as if she often attended the most powerful people in the world.

Meanwhile, she was racking her brains for information on how to correctly address His Holiness.

[Nadya Lunălescu]

Lounging indolently in her chair, T'riss had listened in wry amusement at the back-and-forth between the Nay'fen and the rest of the crew of Wulkyn's Wake. It was a sweet thing, watching the self-important getting their legs kicked out from under them. You could also have more fun with them when they were down on their back.

When they Emissary entered the room, T'riss felt a trifle of unease, the front legs of her chair thumping down on the ground. She knew a high-up when she saw one and surreptitiously, she began eying escape routes from under the brim of her hat. Other than the archway with the ghost-door, there didn't appear to be any. Earning the attention of the high-ups was rarely worth it - they were more arrogant and demanding than any pirate privateer, cloaked in self-righteousness or for the 'greater good.'

Still it was good to hear the Captain would pull through. He might have been too cautious for her tastes and the Wake was a wallowing tub, but for all that, he was a decent sort and the Wake had been home for some time now.

So, when the rest of the crew was granted leave to attend to repairs, T'riss flowed to her feet and sauntered after them, her heels clacking on the stone ground. 'When I'm out of here, I'll see what I can do to get you out too,' she mouthed silently to her cousin in passing.

"You four," The Emissary pointed, singling out Tarmon, T'riss, Tora and Arak. "You will attend, his Holiness would have words...You as well Ray."

T'riss froze, transfixed by the Emissary's pointing figure as if by a ground piercing spear, then turned to him with a flourish of her hat, full lips spreading in an ingratiating grin.

"Surely you be jestin.' I jus' be crew on th'Wake," she protested.

The Emissary's eyes were hard and flat, the lucenite tattoos on the left side of his face seeming to glow with disapproval. "I do not jest," he intoned with all the humour and warmth of a water-logged corpse. "You will stay and you will attend to the words of his Holiness."

"O' course!" T'riss readily agreed with another bow and flourish of her befeathered hat. It was that or make an issue of it and attend anyway, bound and gagged probably. And really, she just reconnected with her cousin - it would be a pity parting so soon.

"What I be meanin' ta say, was I be goin' ta find da baths, is all. I be reekin' o' smoke and salt and da Bloomin' Rose besides. Dis be no fit state to meet such as his Holiness, I be thinkin.'"

[Forge]

"Such worldly considerations, while thoughtful, are not necessary." The Emissary replied, arching a brow, "Are there further inquiries before we continue?"

[Arak Noak]

Arak was still recovering from finding out that the half naked Fen in the cell with them was a woman. Hastily he turned away, shaking his head. All these people running about half naked or worse, what kind of blind person labeled this place civilized? When the Emissary allowed the ship's crew to leave Arak breathed a sigh of relief, surely they would be set free as well. His relief was soon stymied into confusion as he and the others were called upon to attend the leader of the Nay'fen. Confusion turned rapidly to shock and scandal as he realized that this person he was to meet may well be nude. "Wulkyn guide me through this challenge," he muttered to himself.

[Forge]

The Emissary walked further into the room and touched a section of wall. A symbol not previously discernible flared to life and the wall became ghost-like, much the same as the entrance had been awhile ago. Beyond it, a spiral staircase led down and with the Emissary's descent, it proved the wall wasn't solid.

The group followed the Emissary with Wa'ne tailing. In the low light, the glow of a small tattoo could be seen under the elder Nay'fen's clothing. As Wa'ne began his/her descent, the tattoo went dark and the passage closed, plunging the staircase into total darkness.

"Wa'ne, if you would." The Emissary said.

Without a word, a tattoo on Wa'ne's hand flared to life brilliantly, illuminating the path from behind for the benefit of those that could not see in the dark. The passage was made from well fitting, featureless limestone, though shadows would occasionally dance across a block, hinting at a pattern that could not be seen.

The group descended for what seemed like hours, everyone's thighs feeling like jello from the strain. The air was thick and heavy, though cool unlike the summer weather above. Cool enough to chill the sweat trickling down most people's bodies. Just as Tora was going to give in and ask for a reprieve, the landing came within sight.

Everyone stopped a moment at the bottom to regain their balance, their bodies wanting to continue in the spiral they had been travelling on despite the staircase ending. It opened into a large empty hall that must have been something near the size of the College itself. There was no visible support structure, however the floor was laid out with hexagonal tiles that were intricately carved in Pattern magic.

A look about the hall revealed that some tiles were broken or altogether missing. Off at the edge of the lights range, a small raised dais could be seen. The Emissary began walking off towards it and when the rest began to follow, Wa'ne stopped them. "No, we will wait here."

[Arak Noak]

"What is this place?" Arak had almost forgotten the far too under-dressed woman nearby as he gaped at the cavernous room. Any trace of fatigue was lost as he gazed about in wonder. After a moment he looked down the way, "Why are we waiting here? Why are some of the tiles in the floor missing or damaged? Is this a secret place?" His curiosity was more than a match for his simple upbringing and his conservative attitudes toward the Fen's nudity.

[z-Tora Zheng]

Tora smiled a little at Arak's open questions. She was content to let him 'play the rube' to gain information. It was almost better that he wasn't playing at all.

The young entertainer was letting other things answer her questions. Her eyes peered around the room; her ears remained focused on all the sounds in the area. She smelled the air and let the 'flavors' in the wind over her tongue. Even the texture of the floor under her thin sandals was considered.

Click to reveal..

And that was lame:

Carver *rolls* 1d20: 3+3: 6

[Nadya Lunălescu]

With each step deeper into the bowels of the earth, T'riss' shoulders hunched closer and closer together. She yanked off her hat, wiping the icy sweat tricking from her hair from her brow, again and again during their long descent. She bit her lip hard with mounting anxiety, her breath whistling sharply through her teeth.

At the bottom, T'riss stayed close to the stairs, the only means of egress she knew, though with a small part of her began to panic, remembering the ghost-door had solidified, blocking escape. Looking over at her cousin, Tora could see under the magical light, T'riss' sun darkened face was pale and her golden eyes were bright and wide. She seemed to shiver more than even the damp air warranted.

"Bodies, thar' no meant ta live below da rock and da dirt, hey?" T'riss whispered fervently, giving her cousin a grin, but it was a sickly effort. She cut the Fen a dark look. "I be preferrin' waitin' under de moon or the de sun, meself," she muttered. "What be down 'ere anyways?"

[Forge]

Originally Posted By: Arak Noak

"What is this place?" "Why are we waiting here? Why are some of the tiles in the floor missing or damaged? Is this a secret place?"

Originally Posted By: T'riss

"Bodies, thar' no meant ta live below da rock and da dirt, hey?" T'riss whispered fervently, giving her cousin a grin, but it was a sickly effort. She cut the Fen a dark look. "I be preferrin' waitin' under de moon or the de sun, meself," she muttered. "What be down 'ere anyways?"

Wa'ne quietly answered, "This was recovered from one of the first settlements of the Fen in the Flatlands. We know the Murg helped create it, but that is about it. It won't function unless it is underground. It is ancient beyond means. We do not have the knowledge to repair or replace that which was missing or becomes broken."

The Emissary glanced back and gestured to a grouping of tiles in the large hall. Wa'ne started herding them towards the tiles. "I have only been here one other time. The workings of it are only known to the most Elite of the Sen'ten."

Tora couldn't gather much from her senses, though a sense of calm and almost overwhelming age seemed to permeate the place along with a sheer loneliness that cried for attention.

The tiles felt much like they looked, to be made of stone, their entire face carved in all manner of swirling patterns. Arak noticed and recognized certain patterns, but they seemed wrong to his knowledge, improperly placed, drawn differently or downright confusing. The patterns beckoned to him, as if to say, 'If you could be with us, you would come to understand.'

Arak stared and began to consider the possibility of this, the tile underneath them lit up, as the lines seemed to fill up with a liquid light.

Everyone's vision blurred, and they suddenly lost control of their eyes and could not command them to focus. A sudden sense of falling had everyone gasping in surprise and an unreal nausea took hold as their stomachs seemed to lift to the back of their throats.

Seconds later, the feeling abruptly changed and they felt their bodies become heavy and their feet pushed into the stone. Still unable to focus and realize what was going on, suddenly it became very bright and warm and all of the odd sensations ended.

As eyes focused, they found themselves at an ancient temple.



{{Sorry for the quick n dirty pic, but it gets the basic idea across}}

[Arak Noak]

Arak looked around and gasped. Seeing the edge of the temple grounds and the clouds beyond he rushed to the lip to peer over, almost tottering from vertigo as he saw not a cliff or a steep slope, but nothing at all save more clouds. "Wulkyn protect me!" he cried, reeling back awkwardly and landing on his butt. He skittered back from the edge in a crab walk, moving until he bumped into the first step. "Heavens above what manner of magic is this?!" he demanded.

[Nadya Lunălescu]

T'riss groaned as her guts clenched, fearing all the terrible weight above them had collapsed - a sure inevitability as far as she was concerned. But upon seeing the sudden shift in their surroundings from underground to a temple among the clouds, T'riss straightened her shoulders and gasped in relief. The magic was no less strange to her than to Arak, but she was far more grateful for being out from under the encompassing mass of dirt and stone. And heights rarely troubled one who spent time in the crow's nest.

"Calm ye'self, Arak. Panic be more lik'ly to throw ye overboard than standin' th'edge," T'riss commented, shifting lightly on the landing they had appeared on and shading her eyes against the sudden glare, trying to judge where they were by the position of the twin suns and the Godspear. She glanced over a shoulder at the ancient temple rising above them, then turned her golden gaze on the pair of Fen. "What be this place?"

Rolling T'riss' Sailor skill as a means of navigation, seeing if she can get a rough idea where they are.

Expertise - Sailor: 1d20+5 = 19

[z-Tora Zheng]

Tora suffered her disorientation in silence, holding her stomach and shaking a little. When her head cleared, she looked around, eying their new environs. As T'riss evidenced her discomfort, Tora reached out and grasped her cousin's elbow with a gentle hand. She offered silent support to the trader-turned-sailor - once a Zheng, always a Zheng. Though T'riss didn't have the name, she did have the blood, and that was all that was important.

The young traveler remained silent as she looked around, trying to remember tales of a castle in the clouds.

Tora's Expertise: Lore roll:

Carver *rolls* 1d20: 13+6: 19

[Tarmon Kyrell]

The large Ankassim's reaction was only natural as he spread his wings to catch his fall... but he didn't fall. The odd sensation was disturbing and very unfamiliar. He was used to drop from altitude when he was flying as a means of aerial maneouvre but this was completely new to him.

His yellow reptilian eyes narrowed to slits as he tried to focus but nausea took the better of him making him take an uneasy step sideways to regain his bearings.

I would roll on Expertise, too - Tarmon knows about the Temples of the four winds, maybe there are tales of something akin to them? Let me know if it is applicable

[Wa'ne]

Wa'ne closed his eyes and leaned on the staff that was braced on the ground until his head stopped spinning. The Ten smirked at Arak's exclamation and briefly remembered his own reaction on his first trip.

At least they are not alone.

Shaking his head, Wa'ne began the short walk to the steps that led up what remained of the small temple. Pondering the many footsteps of uncounted ancestors that had climbed the stone to wear the blocks round. He was sure, that at that time, there had probably been a good deal less moss, and definitely not any Muthay in such a holy place.

"At your leisure..." Wa'ne said, barely turning as he continued his ascent. "Bopa.*" he muttered under his breath.

*

Fen word that translates to literally to 'child-like'. Equivalent to calling someone retarded or ignorant in this sense.

[Arak Noak]

Arak quickly got over his initial shock and though he still looked around with eyes wide like saucers he managed to gather his wits enough to follow the strange Fen woman. He shook his head at that fact; he couldn't even tell she was a she, and they way she dressed was ... well at least she was more clothed than some of the other fen he had seen. He followed, keeping his eyes away from the woman and on the ruins of the temple trying to locate something to tell him which of the Divines it was dedicated to.

Expertise Magic

Expertise Magic to see if he can identify which god the temple is dedicated to.

1d20+4=10

[z-Tora Zheng]

She couldn't really remember any stories about castles floating in the clouds. That pricked her interest because that implied that this place was a secret. And there was nothing that Tora loved more than a secret.

Tora smiled as she ascended the stairs, glad that the last of the discomfort from the transport spell was gone. That would be a handy thing to have for the caravans, she thought, her mind already working out how her father could gain an advantage over his competitors with that spell. Even if it had a weight limit, there were incredible trade opportunities available.

She followed Arak up the stairs, her hips settling into a easy sway as she began to climb. Her eyes were open wide, watching everything around her.

[Nadya Lunălescu]

T'riss frowned, no Godspear in sight. That only eliminated the lands bordering the Central Sea and a bit more besides, leaving the Temple in the Sky anywhere in the majority of Iannin left, above sea, or plain, or mountain. Wherever it was, having a secret way of arriving here made it ideal as a hideout, from authorities to angry wives and husbands. Like her cousin, T'riss mused on how convenient such teleportational magic would be, though trade wasn't her main interest, and she wondered if it would be possible to affect an entire ship.

No stretch of sea would be safe and pursuit would be futile... It was an idle thought. She had little knowledge of magic and preferred skill to tricks on the seas, but it was fun to consider.

Taking one last look at the sea of cloud below them, T'riss turned her golden eyes on the Temple and started up the stairs after the others, hips rolling with a seawoman's swagger. What will we find in here? And why were we brought here?

[Tarmon Kyrell]

Once the huge Ankassim had adjusted to the situation his anger was aroused. He didn't like being shoved around, he didn't like being kept in the unknown. He was used to be in charge of his own fate and not at someone else's mercy. Snarling the large creature followed his new companions, waiting for a moment to regain some control of his fate and thus his life again.

This must be a test of some kind..., he prayed as he forced himself to stay calm and levelheaded.

[Forge]

The group ascended the steps and entered the ruins of the temple itself. A worn, but still recognizable, symbol of Tal & Len had been carved into prominence over the arching entrance, declaring for whom this place stood. There was no roof on the structure, and it seemed to have been designed that way rather than crumbled. And really, for as old as the place appeared, it was rather well kept, if worn. There was no rubble or piles of dust, though nature seemed to be existing in harmony with the building, as small flowers and bushes sought to take over the side areas and obviously unused sections.

Their path took them straight to the center of the temple, though the occasional path could be seen to branch off to the sides beyond flora. The center part of the temple was a large rotunda with large curved stone benches taking up most of the floor. In the center was a small platform upon which stood a large figure.

Figure

The figure looks like the same species as the person who gazes upon it, and also someone who you automatically feel comfortable with, like you were meeting with your favorite family member. Feel free to describe this person as your character would see them in your post. Clothing and all changes to your perception.

The figure smiled warmly and gestured them further inside. "Welcome, I'm sure you have questions, please, be seated."

[Arak Noak]

Arak gaped openly at the ancient Skrofan that stood on the dais. The wizened old man's skin was wrinkled and hard, looking much like the bark of the fire trees, or so he had heard. The man's hair, twined with leaves of deep verdant green, was the color of flame and fire however, as though age had no power to leech the color from it. His voluminous robes hid him from the neck down, and were studded with glowing mana-crystals. Whomever he was he was old and powerful, of that there could be no doubt. Arak wondered what he was doing here, advising the Fen when he could be living at the heart of the Crystal City of A'va'lan with great Wulkyn's greatest Gyre. Arak wondered what title he could possibly have. The honorary of Great Forestal seemed pale by comparison to the palpable aura of power that surrounded the man. Arak wanted to kneel before him, but instead fumbled his way to a seat on a bench, never taking his eyes from the figure. There he sat, waiting, wondering.

[Nadya Lunălescu]

Fiery brows arched sharply upwards, T'riss stunned by sight of the exotic Muthay woman standing in the center of the open-roofed Temple. Taken into the bowels of the Sen'Ten College only to be mystically transferred to a temple in the sky, sanctified to Tal & Len, about the last person she had expected to be presented to was a worldy Muthay woman. Not that she was sure what she had expected in the first place.

And not that she had any problems with the dweller of the not-quite-abandoned-temple, T'riss thought, giving the woman a blatant once over as she sashayed to one of the benches on the opposite side of the path from Arak, crossing her legs as she sat. The woman was near as beautiful as Quaress herself, but with such a worldly, mortal air, her smile indulgent and knowing, she seemed like a favoured aunt or older sister. Her smooth face was ageless, multi-hued eyes wise and lively, but stamped with the impression of vast experience that didn't weight her down, but only added her to allure. She seemed to possess traits of nearly every race: the pale skin of the Balor, the grace of the Fen, the solid stature of a Zray woman, the finely scaled wings of the Ankassim, and more. She was in every way a singular woman, yet belonged to all. She was dressed in flowing silk and fine leather, their luxurious cut softened and worn by long travels.

"Welcome, I'm sure you have questions, please, be seated," the woman said a deep, rich tone, voice husky from drinking strong spirits and smoking aromatic tobacco.

"Ta be sure," T'riss agreed with throaty casualness, comfortable in the woman's presence despite - or because of - the idle fantasies flitting through her mind's eye, Her sensual grin broadened - life was meant to be lived, so why restrain yourself? "Not th'least bein' why we be brought 'ere by de Sen'Ten. Though I may 'ave tried to sail the clouds dem'selves had I be knowing who resided in dis 'ere temple."

[z-Tora Zheng]

The elder Muthay that stood on the platform drew Tora's eye immediately. He was majestic and had the wisdom of the ages in his eyes. Tora gave a deep bow before finding a seat for herself on one of the benches. Her cousin's comments about the Muthay made Tora blink; she was surprised that the flighty T'riss was so impressed by age and knowledge.

"I have other questions as well," Tora added, smiling wryly, "but I suspect that there you will decline to answer them. T'riss is right - the primary one is why are we here?"

[Tarmon Kyrell]

Tarmon instantly dropped to one knee averting his eyes from the imposing figure. From all the places he had travelled he'd never suspected to find one of the Harbingers of Ankassim in this temple. Nothing here reminded of the teachings he learned in the Temples of the Four Winds.

Many questions arose in his mind, questions about his destiny and his place in the world. He was just a mere Battlepriest and maybe not all the knowledge and wisdom was shared with him whichwas understandable.

The most important question had already been asked although he couldn't believe the audacity the Fen-Woman had to ask it in such direct way. He felt humbled by the divine presence of the Harbinger, how dared she raise her voice above a whisper? A low snarl escaped his maw but he remained quiet. He would respect, the ancient.

[Forge]

"Ta be sure," T'riss agreed with throaty casualness, comfortable in the woman's presence despite - or because of - the idle fantasies flitting through her mind's eye, Her sensual grin broadened - life was meant to be lived, so why restrain yourself? "Not th'least bein' why we be brought 'ere by de Sen'Ten. Though I may 'ave tried to sail the clouds dem'selves had I be knowing who resided in dis 'ere temple."

"I have other questions as well," Tora added, smiling wryly, "but I suspect that there you will decline to answer them. T'riss is right - the primary one is why are we here?"

"Hmm, the answer is sure to interesting. It wasn't to display a distinct lack of manners. You may refer to me as, Holiness, should you wish to continue this conversation. Further disrespect, and we shall see if you can fly." the figure said, matter-of-factly. "Why do you believe you were brought here?"

Body language of the figure is entirely up to your perception, his words and tone aren't. But if you want him smacking lips or pointing dramatically, that is all to your character's perception. Please mention anything of note so I can keep it in mind. He/she will not leave the dais however and will remain standing.

This conversation scene could take awhile, if we can speed up responses, that would be awesome. Also, as it is conversation, I will not be waiting for a full round of posts before I post again. If you're uninspired/lazy/bored/sick/on vacation/dealing with drama llama, your character is suitably silent and just listening. You all will more or less have free rein after this scene, so hopefully posting will pick up *hint hint*.

[Nadya Lunălescu]

T'riss' lips tightened, golden eyes narrowing to mere slits. A favoured aunt or an older sister perhaps, but undeniably a grand matriarch, believing her travels and experience grant her authority and deserving respect. Yet there was a light in the eyes of the Holiness, a casual elegance in the gesture of her hand, trailing a plume of silver-blue from a cigarillo, that said all that authority and respect she felt entitled to was earned.

If you want to be that way, then fine, be that way, T'riss commented to herself, folding her arms beneath her breasts and arching her brow in wry regard. "Well, ye Holiness, I be thinkin' it be like this," T'riss said, giving the figure the barest of nods, "we be in de wrong place at the de wrong time. And de Sen'ten, arrogant prigs they mostly be, they be takin' th'opportunity to be usin' us for wha'ever they be usin' us fer. They don't be feelin' de need to be tellin' the likes o' us."

[Forge]

"I did not ask you why the Sen'ten brought you. I asked what you believed. But maybe your opinion of yourself is entirely dependent on what others think of you? Hmm?" The figure stated. He/she did not sound offended, and really the question almost sounded like a statement of fact.

[Arak Noak]

"We all walk the path that Wulkyn has laid for us." Arak's voice was quiet, but it carried in the stillness as thought he had spoken loudly. "Had I not left my village when I did another caravan would have come. Had I not aided that ship in its time of need some other trial would have presented itself. Wulkyn lays the very paths of the stars, we are but mortals; I am here because I am needed to be here. Now." He didn't say "Holiness," he had found the request odd as the priests of Wulkyn among his people were always known as Navigators, for they followed Wulkyn's paths and attempted to discern the destination.

[Forge]

"Indeed, you are. You should have more faith in your actions and what part they play. To say that your path is predetermined, would make choices and life insignificant, would it not?"

[Arak Noak]

"On the contrary," Arak said boldly. "The paths that we walk through our lives are free to meander to our will. To use a saying on my people: The Great Lord of the Heavens does not chart your course, he only dictates what ports of call you make as you go, and ensures you safely to your final destination." The young Skrofan narrowed his eyes, "Even a child knows that the gods do not control us any more than we control them, ours is a relationship of influence back and forth, great and small."

[Forge]

"Hmm. You say your God dictates, and yet does not control you. An interesting dichotomy to live with." the figure said, seemingly unperturbed by the child-like comparison. "And yet, if your God constantly dictated your every action, do you have a choice to refuse?"

[Arak Noak]

"I say Wulkyn occasionally guides my life toward the major events that the Gods see fit to see me to. He is not my God, and he does not dictate my every action, nor even the greater fractions of my life, or anybody else's." Arak jabbed a finger at the man, "Were you who you appear to be you would know this. Were you who you appear to be, an elder skrofan who has long studied the celestial mystery, you would not request to be called Holiness, but instead Navigator." He shook his head, "But you are not. Who are you, and why have you contrived this farce?"

[z-Tora Zheng]

Tora was silent as Arak went back and forth with His Holiness. At his revelation about the form, Tora merely nodded. There were stories like this, of people who clouded your mind. However, Arak was being a touch rough, so Tora added, "Not that we aren't pleased to see this wondrous place, Your Holiness. But we do wonder why your people would go through the effort of bringing us here. Why us? What have we done to gain your attention?"

Tora had risen while she spoke, but her stance remained deferential and humble as she gazed at His/Her Holiness.

[Tarmon Kyrell]

"You're asking the wrong questions.", the huge Ankassim interrupted angrily as he got back to his feet rising to his full impressive height. Maybe no one had noticed earlier but he was wearing a robe with the holy Symbol of Ankassar embroidered on it which probably put him somewhere in the ranks of Priest or similar clerical status.

"How dare you demand answers? We have been chosen - the only question is not to ask 'Why' but humbly request 'How can we be of service?'", he glared at T'riss mostly, who in his eyes should be punished for her insolence but he was not the judge so he simply waited for the Harbinger to tell him what to do.

[Forge]

"Thank you, Tarmon. Your affront is not necessary, their reaction is understood." the figure said lightly with a slight nod towards the Ankasssim.

The person looked at Arak, his tone full of eternal patience, "There is no farce, young Arak. I am as you would see me. If there is to be a deception, it would be of your own design. I am not capable of misinformation."

"As to why you are here...we would seek your help." The figure paused a moment to let the meaning of that sink in. "Since Wa'ne achieved Ray, our young Ten has been assigned to Elizabethea. A duty envied by none."

Elizabethea is a cliff-side town outside the land controlled by the Nay'fen, in neutral territory on the Sea of Tears. It resides atop a jut of land that rises up out of the Sea like a giant gnarled finger pointing at the sky. A large lake of the same name covers most of the surface that is fed from deep springs. The lake feeds numerous waterfalls around the finger that vary from raging torrents to small trickles. Elizabethea is the center of the black market trade and all things of ill repute. Kaer is the prominent diety, as greed is among the forefront emotions that rule the city. However it is peaceful in its own self-management, as most people who choose to reside there, do so out of a desire to be free to make their own choices. Not that it is always so, but those who seek to cause more than a common street brawl will find themselves banished from their lucrative markets and potentially black-listed. The one most assured way of enforcing this is by denying the offenders passage from the Sea to the Lake.

Elizabethea's position is unattainable except by air or via the large 'elevators'. At three different locations around the finger, near larger-sized waterfalls are large inscribed patterns that run up the cliff behind the water. Once activated, they can take any vessel from the calm waters below to the placid lake above.

"You know of this town, yes T'riss?" the figure asked.

"Ya, I've heard of da place once or twice." came her reply.

"Wa'ne had discovered that the Pattern used to levitate the ships was controlled somehow by an A'fen that resides in the Lake. Through the investigation, Wa'ne also discovered that Elizabethea was built over the top of the once prized city of En'ur.

We knew the city existed and that it was destroyed during the time of Fen's Ending, but its location could never be determined. It was said to have a large repository of knowledge, and once Wa'ne brought us the information of its existence, the decision was made that, at this time, the risk was too great and we would bide our time.

The Ray had a different plan. Against our orders, Wa'ne returned to the ruins. Venturing beyond the safety of knowledge, Wa'ne released ancient Chaos that has since sent tendrils that have followed the impetuous one back here. We would have you seek out this manifestation and destroy it. In return, material spoils of En'ur are yours. Wa'ne will accompany you, but as punishment and to redeem the Mark, be subservient and at your will."

Wa'ne's face remained passive, devoid of emotion as she sat there on the bench, listening, but making no offerings to his thoughts.

"The Wake is being prepared for your voyage. T'riss will captain the vessel until your return, at which point the helm will be returned to its prior owner. You may ask questions."

[z-Tora Zheng]

"What exactly did the Ray do that started this?" Tora asked immediately. In the back of her mind, she could hear music surging in her mind, a glorious melody that would be matched to the words that were slowly building with the song. This was the kind of thing that she couldn't pass up; a great story that others would come from far away to hear sung. She wasn't sure what the name would be, or the ending would look like, or even if she'd survive learning the story, much less have the skill to craft it into the song she heard growing in her head. But she could and would try to tell this story. If she was going to risk her neck for it, then she would have this story.

[Forge]

"Wa'ne, please, would you care to answer that?" the figure said, its tone harsh in its lack of inflection.

The Nay'fen's eye twitched slightly as she began to speak, "I discovered a way into the ruins. Deep within, I found a room that had been sealed from the outside, the Pattern hasty, but complicated almost beyond even my comprehension. I spent nearly two days just to copy it!" Wa'ne said with fervor, as though to give excuse. "Using my unique talent of negating Pattern, I disrupted the engraving and opened the door. Beyond the door was another engraving on the wall, which, when I crossed the threshold, spawned the creature you saw at the docks. Evidently a trigger trap had been set upon the arch of the door, which is genius, why we don't do such..."

"Continue." The figure stated.

"Yes, Holiness." Wa'ne nodded humbly, "I had no weapon, but I saw remains quite near the door, with this staff nearby and I dove for it, nearly becoming eviscerated in my valor. The creature must have been bound to the staff, for as I clutched it, it paused and no longer was aggressive. There were further passages into the ruins, but discovering myself ill-prepared, I returned here."