Gol'br'in's "Surprise Guest"

After a couple of minutes, the Fasion returns, erupting through the bead curtain as if it were her life's worst obstacle. Proceeding straight to Gol'br'in, she mutters something as he bends to listen. Then he clicks his tongue impatiently, stands erect facing the curtain, and barks something that sounds like, "Tcakin, mek-mek!"

Turning to the party sheepishly, he says, "That's about all I know of her language. If you have any translating devices, they'd be a big help right now."

Lirassa taps a key on her helmet with a huff. Then she says in Brekka, "Kekkin [Testing] i [one], kuli [two], zil [three]. Brakken kg'ford [Do y'all understand me, now?]"

Mey'Luskar huffs in turn. "Why didn't you tell us you had one of those?"

Lirassa, still speaking Brekka (though everyone understands her now), replies, "Y'all can't expect a girl to let fly all her secrets, now, can ya?"

Pru sucks air through her teeth.

"Now, what's your problem, pee-wee?" asks Lirassa, throwing out a hip cockily.

"Your Yangae is a lot prettier," replies Pru.

"'Cause it ain't my own language, right?" retorts Lirassa, putting a hand on her hip. "It's prettier 'cause it ain't natural for me, right? I only speak Yangae 'cause I have to!"

"There are reasons for that," offers Gol'br'in in Her-galad.

"Naturally," says Nekshi in Yangae. Then it occurs to her, and she switches to Zorlan Standard. "Subject: Yangae language. Former condition: official language of commerce and administration. Location: this area. Applied time frame: over two centuries. Current condition: replaced. Object: Her-galad language. Agent: new Ergothei administration. Corrected time frame: limited to past forty years. Result: Yangae continues to be prevalent. Conclusion: understandable." (This entire dialog is expressed within a span of two seconds.)

Ham sighs. He has never been fond of telepathic translators. At least he understands what everyone is saying for a change...but the grammar of certain foreign languages squeezed through his tired brain tends to give him a headache!

He's not the only one, either. "Please!" cries Pru. "Yangae! Speak Yangae!"

Nekshi glares in return. "Directive refused. Reply subject: Yangae language. Condition: limited and inefficient. Apparent time frame: any case. Conclu..."

"Stop!" Pru clutches her mop of curly, black hair. "Just stop! Don't! Just d...eh?"

A wave of surprise sweeps through the chamber as all eyes turn to the face that is shyly peeking through the curtain.

Few present have ever seen a face like that in person, and those that have recall the experience with dread and/or hatred. And yet there isn't a single person there who doesn't know the racial identity of those large, tawny, slit-pupiled eyes set in a gray, scaly face...a face that seems like an evil caricature of the human form.

The face of the enemy.

"Don't try to read her thoughts," warns Gol'br'in. "As you know, she doesn't like it, and she hits back. You might not want to get too close, either. Her claws are pretty nasty." He rubs a thigh with a shudder.

Lirassa clicks on her rifle. "Y'all better explain quick," she hisses.

"Put it down," says Bina. "Poor thing! She's frightened!"

"You might want to pull in your senses," says Gol'br'in. "She can turn those on you, too."

"I won't!" retorts Bina. Intrigued with the Ahmonite enough to forget her own problems, she asks, "Where did you find her?"

"She found us," replies Gol'br'in. "Just wandered up out of the tunnels in a state of shock. I gave her sanctuary. We don't have a common language, so communication has been tough. She ran away from something. Actually, you know, since you have a translator, maybe we can..."

"The only way I talk to 'grays' is with this," spits Lirassa, starting to raise the rifle.

Parting Gifts

The minutes pass.
Dabid stirs slightly but doesn't regain consciousness.
Mon'Fargret continues to wrestle with his guilt as both Mey'Luskar and Bina grapple with their respective inner turmoil. (Strangely, Mey'Luskar seems to be handling it with more grace than the disgraced priestess.)
Betham paces about edgily, watching both bead curtains while throwing occasional surreptitious glances at Bina and Gemma.
Nekshi examines the dismembered corpse of the Yoti, apparently interested in the implant that animated her.
Gemma chats with Zeton. He manages to find out that she is a native of Gôtheia (the Hergoth homeworld) who came to Lyranell about a year ago in answer to a job recruitment right out of college...only to have the company that hired her bought out and shut down leaving her with no way to pay her bills or return home. Moving into the squatter community eventually brought her to Gol'br'in...and the vine.
Widjgleeby helps herself to another severed Yoti limb.
Ham, Lirassa, Pru, and Granite Spear just wonder what they are doing there.

After a bit, the Fasion returns, bearing a very nervous look and a package wrapped in woven plant fiber. She toddles over to Mey'Luskar, who is closest to the bead curtain, and holds up the package.

"Here," she says.

"What is it?" asks Mey'Luskar, wrinkling her nose.

Bina looks like her heart has skipped a beat when she says, "Vine!"

Betham snaps to attention.

"You'll need this," says the Fasion, holding the package up more insistently.

Mey'Luskar stoops and accepts the package, glancing around at the others anxiously.

Bina moves away as if afraid of either the package or her own reaction to it.

"Why in Flames do we need that kèl'wòk?" demands Betham.

"To get past the guards," replies Gol'br'in just before he emerges from the curtain. "You'll know. Don't try to fight them. You'll only make it worse. Now..." He holds up his own cargo, a collection of what look like slips of paper. Each has a strange symbol drawn on it. "These need to be charged up." He looks intently at Bina. "Can you, uh...?"

Bina assumes a prayer stance without a word and starts a low chant. Soon her head and upper body are surrounded by a red aura. Using his wand, Gol'br'in starts to draw off some of the power and weave it into the runes.

"What sort of guards?" whispers Mey'Luskar to the Fasion.

"Farbetts," she replies.

Nekshi perks up immediately. Sneering slightly at the Fasion, she declares, "Farbetts wouldn't have much use for the vine! They don't have the correct physiology! We'd fare far better offering them abigatta-domi-fadikema-dallit-tasa!"

Widjgleeby grunts.

"It's not for them," retorts the Fasion flatly.

Spiritual Diplomacy

The figure that is apparently Gol'br'in emerges cautiously through the bead curtain into the room. He definitely looks like someone who has lived the greater part of his life in very strange company...if in any company at all.

Seeing him, Kiel'i immediately turns partly away so as not to make eye contact. Bina, however, eyes the mystic warily.

"I suppose I should thank you for your kind help," says Kiel'i flatly.

"You know I didn't help much," retorts Gol'br'in. "How long has Mountain-Eye known about me?"

Kiel'i assumes a prayer stance and then, in Per'anai's voice, replies, "You can't hide yourself as well as your master did. And besides, they call me 'Mountain-Eye' for a reason."

"But you never tried to stop me!"

"And hurt our own cause?" Kiel'i opens eyes which are glowing blue and faces the mystic squarely. "I'm under no obligation to stop you. Even if what you do disgusts me, I still know that it's for the best. For now."

"Fair enough." Gol'br'in bows Hergoth style. "For what it's worth, you've earned my respect."

Kiel'i returns the bow. Then the blue glow fades from her eyes. In her own voice, she says, "I must return now."

"Stay just a little longer," entreats Gol'br'in, stepping closer. "I know you're just as curious as I am. Allow me to do this one thing." He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a stick that has symbols carved on it. "I know you don't approve, but I have no power without this."

"What're you going to do?" demands Bina edgily.

"Just a little test," he replies, holding the stick up sideways in both hands so they can look at it. "I promise no one will be harmed."

Bina throws a bitter glance at Gemma, who says drowsily, "It's alright, Dear Sister. It's my energy to give."

Bina turns back to Gol'br'in and says, "You could at least let her bathe!"

"Of course!" replies Gol'br'in pleasantly. He holds up the stick, and the tip of it starts to glow. "Now, if you'll just put yourselves at ease..." He inclines the stick toward Mon'Fargret, and the glow flickers a bit. "Hmm. This one is aware but has no mastery. Good. That does explain some things." Next he angles the wand toward Lirassa.

"Point that thing somewhere else!" she spits in Yangae.

"You have a device in you that protects you," replies Gol'br'in in that language. "Very good." Next he moves toward Ham, who assumes a threatening stance. The wand changes color. "Sensitive," says Gol'br'in. Then he moves past the Fasion and points the wand at Dabid. Again the color changes. "Sensitive." Ignoring Betham, he moves toward Pru, who backs up to avoid him. The color changes. "Sensitive." He then moves past Widjgleeby and Granite Spear and proceeds straight to Nekshi. "Sensitive."

Not waiting for the mystic, Mey'Luskar actually approaches him. "What about me?"

Gol'br'in pauses, studying her. Then he angles the wand. It doesn't change color, but the glow suddenly increases in intensity. Gol'br'in jumps back as if shocked, his mouth dropping open. The glow decreases again, but not to its original level. Puzzled, Gol'br'in starts to probe around with it, slowly moving backward as he does so. Finally he stops, gestures puzzlement, and lowers the wand. "I can't find the edge. Your spirit..." He glances back at Kiel'i.

"Yes," replies the priestess. "It reaches out in all directions without a clear border."

"What does that mean?" asks Mey'Luskar. Her expression changes. "I was...I was helping you, wasn't I? Just like I helped Bina heal Gemma...?"

No one answers. Gol'br'in, Kiel'i, and Bina just eye her silently. Then Gol'br'in says, "I would very much like to find out about your parents."

"Her father is a mystery," says Kiel'i quickly. "Her mother is a scientist. There's nothing more to tell."

Once again the mystic and the two priestesses study Mey'Luskar quietly while she fidgets and glances around. Then Gemma says, "Hey! What about him?" She points at Zeton.

Gol'br'in approaches Zeton and angles the wand. There is no reaction. "You're immune!" he says, furrowing his brows. "Strange. But you're not really Hergoth...obviously. Either you have some kind of special ability I don't know about, or your kind is not one of the children of the Ancients. That's very interesting...and very good!" He glances at Kiel'i. "Okay, that's enough. I have what I came for."

The priestess acknowledges him with a nod. Then she turns to address to party. Bowing properly, she says, "May the Entity smile on all of you in this dark hour!" Then she gives Bina a last look before vanishing in a swirl of light.

"Now," says Gol'br'in. "You want to get to the Eye of Tann through the tunnels, right? There are some things I need to give you first."

Mystic Rhythms

Lirassa grabs Mon'Fargret's first aid kit and sets to work on his shoulder.

"I can't do anything about that bone," she says, "but you'll be able to travel."

Ham mutters something in Biton as he has a look at Dabid. Clicking his tongue with annoyance, he seals the stump of the severed leg with celluplasts from his own first aid kit.

Meanwhile, Widjgleeby pokes around the various bits of the Yoti's body (and casually snacks on at least one of them).

Granite Spear bursts through the bead curtain ready to fight, but then she is left looking in bewilderment at the floating cursor point.

"Flaming trickster!" yells Betham at the cursor point angrily. "What kind of sick game are you playing? Show yourself!"

"Show myself?" replies the voice lazily. "Why would I want to do that? I mean...I have a badge-less cop and a brooch-less priestess here, and either one of you'd tear me apart in a second! And if you didn't, there are a lot of very angry people with you. Verrrrry angry..."

"Well, of COURSE we're angry!" Betham shoots back glancing quickly at the others. "It's bad enough that you've turned this old mansion into a stinking cesspool of...drugs and...and..."

There is an annoyed sigh. "See? You're jumping to conclusions! You always jump to conclusions! Anyone with a badge or a brooch...even in past tense. Blinded by rules, rules, rules! You have no idea what's going on, or how much we've suffered to keep you people safe!"

"S-safe?" Betham stammers, clenching his fists. He glares down at Dabid and Mon'Fargret.

"Like I said," the voice goes on easily, "I had nothing to do with any of this. I'll even say I'm very, very sorry if it'll make you feel better. Look, I asked my people to...discourage you from coming in. No one was supposed to get hurt. I never wanted them to shoot at anybody, especially one of my own guests...and I certainly didn't know that one had a killer zombie implant! Now I have to wonder what they really wanted."

While this dialog is going on, Zeton steps through the bead curtain with Gemma in his arms.

"Ooh, I've only been up here a couple of times!" she coos happily. Then she wrinkles her nose. "I don't remember it being so messy!"

Come Into My Parlor...

Main Floor


Upper Floor


Lower Floor

Now that the truth of the situation is understood by everyone, Granite Spear proceeds through the inner door from the greeting/changing room and into the main chamber. Widjgleeby follows close behind, thankful that the doors and fixtures were clearly designed with Farbetts in mind. The Mon'Fargret/Ham/Lirassa group also moves on into the house.

A very embarrassed Dabid remains between the two groups, standing before a large, marble-lined staircase going up.

Betham, who is still out in the greeting/changing room, calls, "Stay alert! I can sense there are others in...UWAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!" The sound of him leaning heavily against one of the racks can be heard.

***

"Elder visions?" echoes Bina, looking at Gemma very intently. "What else did he say?"

Gemma seems distracted for a second or two. Then she looks at the disgraced priestess vacantly. "What? Who?"

"Gol'br'in," replies Bina patiently. "Did he ever say anything about...runes?"

"Runes?" echoes Gemma with puzzlement. Then she grins and gestures dismissal. "Oh, you mean those weird symbols he keeps drawing! Weird zone! He's on about that all the time! You mean you...wait..." She takes on a thoughtful look.

"It's just our group," says Bina. "They just linked up..." Her eyes suddenly go wide. "Flames of Goth!!!"

Mey'Luskar gasps and jumps. "What was that?"

"I think your cop friend found the one they're hiding," says Gemma nonchalantly.

At the Mansion

The party makes it to the side of the house without further incident (except for the fact that Dabid has run around the back side of the building and hasn't returned).

Zeton notes that there are nice, neat entrance and exit puncture wounds in Gemma's thigh and the tibia has been cleaved in twain. The projectile (or whatever it was) went through the limb like a red hot poker through a wax candle.

Lirassa insists her injury is "only a flesh wound", but she lets Ham have a look at it. Indeed, the projectile (or whatever it was) ripped a gouge in her thigh but doesn't seem to have hit anything vital (though there is more than a little blood). Ham puts a celluplast on it, and that's that.

Pru still seems rather freaked out over having had her arm healed completely by Bina. Her jacket sleeve has a nice hole on either side of it and is soaked with blood, but she is far more interested in the fact that there is no longer any trace of the injury.

Bina herself seems forlorn and pensive, rubbing her hands and looking anywhere except at anyone else.

Mey'Luskar, who was suddenly concerned for Bina at the end of the battle, moves away from the Hergoth without a word and starts looking about the side of the house. Betham follows a similar course but keeps his distance.

Nekshi finishes up her programming, still virtually oblivious to the fact that Granite Spear has half led, half dragged her along to the house.

Mon'Fargret is the last one to arrive at the house, popping a new power pack into his pistol as he continues to glance about warily.

Widjgleeby is standing at the top of the short stairway leading down to the door, her ultra-sensitive nostrils going.

The house itself has walls of a reddish-brown ceramic material. Its main section appears to be of a squarish layout with a tower on each corner. The bottom floor is half underground and, judging from the design of the windows and door, of a more utilitarian nature. The main floor sits on top of it about a meter and a half above the ground. The main section has one more floor above that. The lights of the veranda show that each of the corner towers has one more level above the main section terminating in a Hergoth-style spired dome. The central tower, also capped with a spired dome, has two floors above the main section.

A dim, flickering, reddish glow can be seen in one of the windows of the top floor of the central tower.

"Brrrrr!" says Mey'Luskar, shuddering and hugging herself. "This place gives me the creeps!"

Strange Welcoming

Gemma seems to have become distracted by both Mon'Fargret and Mey'Luskar, but at the sound of Granite Spear's talk box she snaps out of it.

"Um, right!" she says, shaking her head. "This way!"

"Aw, flamin' bro," moans the guy on the sofa. "I can't move my hands, bro!"

"Hands are overrated," retorts the guy by the light flatly.

Gemma leads the party back down the short hallway and out the door into the night. The rain seems to have stopped, but the glow of the city reflecting off the clouds shows they are still low and ugly. There is just enough light to see the road and the shadowy silhouettes of the trees. As the party moves along southward, Pru asks a question about the layout of the place, and Gemma (who apologizes for her poor Yangae and sticks to speaking Her-galad) explains that the road they are on follows a circle going around the plantation complex, with the house as its hub. If they were to continue around, they would come to the old chapel and its garden, which Gemma says (with clear pride) she has been tending. On the opposite side of the circle are a bunch of large greenhouses. The old warehouse (which Gemma doesn't seem to like) is on the northeastern edge.

The party comes to a T-intersection, where a road curves off to head through the trees toward the inside of the circle. Gemma turns onto it, explaining that the inner woods were the nut groves of the plantation, but they've gone a bit wild. Soon the party passes through the wall of trees, and the ominous, black bulk of the house can be seen standing on a low hill in the middle of the complex. Its shape seems squarish, but it has obviously Hergoth-style towers.

A dim, flickering light can be seen on the top floor of the central tower.

"This isn't good," says Bina. "We're not welcome here!"

"Of course you're not!" replies Gemma. "They think those Eye people or whatever are attacking! But it's okay! They know..."

"I don't like it either," says Betham. "Are you sure about this?"

"Am I sure?" rails Gemma. "Of course! I mean, they're kind of suspicious, but they're alright once you get to know them. Remember, these are my people!" She increases her pace, giggling and mumbling to herself.

(I need ALT checks from everybody.)


(Positions at the end of the second exchange of the second round of combat.)

Squatters

Bina heads to one of the doors on the ground floor, one that is obviously not the entrance to one of the flats. Stopping before it, she assumes a Hergoth formal greeting pose and intones a Song of Calling. The door opens a few seconds later, but only a crack.

"Bina?" says a soft, feminine voice.

"Yes, Gemma," she replies gently. "It's me. It's alright!"

It's hard to see the figure that emerges in the dark, but she takes Bina's hands and says, "Thank the Entity! But what of...oh..."

"It's alright!" says Bina reassuringly. "Your friend isn't hurt. We had to stun him. He wouldn't stop shooting at us!"

Betham steps forward with the limp form of the shooter over his shoulder. "We need to get him inside," he says flatly.

Gemma's only reply is a few anxious-sounding breaths.

"It's alright!" insists Bina. "No one's here to harm you! In fact, we need your help!"

Gemma's psy senses can be vaguely felt probing about the party, and then focusing on the three Yangae. The pulse of fear she lets off is very tangible.

"They're not your enemies," says Bina. "My soul speaks for them."

Gemma lets out another nervous-sounding breath before she lets the party in.

Once inside, she turns on a pocket light and leads the party to a room in the very heart of the building. The air inside is stuffy and reeks of dust, mold, incense, spiced oil, and the acrid smell of unwashed bodies. Gemma says something, and a larger light within the room comes on. Then the party can see the room and her clearly.

Perhaps she was attractive before, but now her face looks worn and gaunt. Her sullen eyes don't look at all well. She is dressed in casual clothing that is rumpled and stained. Her hair is an unwashed, uncombed mess.

The youngish Hergoth man sitting next to the light doesn't look much better.

"You brought them all in?" he asks with dull annoyance as Betham and Zeton ease the stunned form onto a more or less usable sofa.

"I trust Bina," replies Gemma.

"It's not Bina I'm worried about," retorts the man, "or any other except those three." He nods in the direction of Pru, Mey'Luskar, and Mon'Fargret. "Remember? Gol'br'in said that now no Yangae can be trusted! None! Tur'as unders...well, I see he doesn't at the moment. Bugs on glass! So much for his precious gun! Now you've put us all in danger!"

Stepping forward irritably, Mey'Luskar pops off her contacts and shows her real eyes. "There!" she snaps in Her-galad. "Satisfied?"

Gemma reacts with surprise, but the man is totally unperturbed. "Very well," he says impassively. "What about the other two?"

Target, Target

All at once, Zeton jumps up from his position behind Betham and moves forward up the side of the road.

Betham lets out a shout as he walks his volley into the target...mainly because Zeton is moving right into his line of fire. Betham immediately terminates his barrage, but not before one of the pulses lightly grazes Zeton's shoulder.

(It kind of tickles but otherwise doesn't phase him.)

Up ahead, the maniacal shriek can be heard to end in a gurgle.

"Target nil," says Lirassa, lowering her pistol.

"I thought I got him," says Ham.

"Midbrain shock," says Betham as he moves out from cover. "He would've gone berserk. At this range, with this...mist...he probably won't be out long. We'd better move. Bina, how in the flow is your 'friend'?"

"It'll be alright," says Bina, though not quite as calmly as she'd have everyone believe.

"Right," says Betham. "They may have info we need. Let's disarm that guy and get indoors!" He immediately starts heading up the lane at a brisk trot.

(I'm going to assume that the party follows. It's still dark, but the end of the "tunnel" through the woods can be seen clearly...together with Betham's silhouette in it. Some members [especially Mey'Luskar, who refuses to run, and Dabid, who has to be coaxed out of his hiding place] slow things down. I'm going to assume Zeton follows Betham immediately. Is anyone else going to do so?)

Stand-down or Standoff?

(Map image clipped from plantation map I might show you someday...)

(For the record, the group passed through the main gate to the plantation and is still on the short [about 80m] road that cuts through the "forest wall" ringing the compound. The nearest building to the end of the road is the workers' apartments, and the shooter is hiding behind its corner. The party is currently taking cover in the trees at the edge of the "forest wall" about 30m away from the building.)

At Bina's request, Mon'Fargret keeps his aim but does not fire.

"I think you're right," says Lirassa, clicking on some kind of pistol. "It's just one sod. I got a mark. Should I toast him?"

"Someone in the building," says Bina hauntingly, her fingers on her temples. "She's afraid...so afraid...but maybe a friend..."

Another blast sears its way from the apartment, this time apparently aimed at Mon'Fargret's position. The shot is low. A baffle-effect plasma burst erupts from the pavement accompanied by an incoherent shout.