As the party joins the Blues in spreading out to check out the fallen vigilantes, Blue Twelve proceeds straight to where the dark figure is holding Pru at bay with his sword.
"Why don't you finish her, dear master?" asks Blue Twelve impatiently.
"Because she is INNOCENT!" spits the dark figure in Her-Galad with a very strong Lyranell twang. He glances back over his shoulder. His eyes are no longer glowing, but with all the anger in them they might as well be. "She came here to rescue and protect one of her own. That's not a crime, is it?" He shuts off his sword (which then vanishes into thin air) and says to Pru in Yangae, "You. Over there." He nods toward where Mon'Fargret is tending to Vig. #1. "He needs help."
Pru looks ready to faint dead away in an instant, but she complies.
Blue Twelve is clearly shocked (and isn't the only one). "Dear master, what if she talks?"
The darkly-dressed person shrugs. "What if she does? She never gave the order to shoot. She never wanted to!" He gives Vig. #3's corpse a vicious kick. "This sludge-lump drew first blood in spite of her. By their own 'civilized' rules, that gave us every right to grind him into fertilizer. I'm sure she recognizes that." He glances at Pru and adds in Yangae, "Don't you?"
Pru looks up at him with fright, nods briskly, and goes back to assisting Mon'Fargret.
The dark figure turns his tangibly vehement gaze to Ham Sahladt. Surprisingly, he says something in Biton. Then he looks up and says (in Her-Galad again), "Blaghl, get the priestesses. We need them."
Blaghl bows and turns to go, but one of the Blues says, "Dear master, they're already coming!"
Indeed, one of the maintenance doors (the one on the right on the map) has opened, and Nekshi can be seen peeking out.
"Mon'Fargret," says the dark guy, "your friends are here. The way is open. Very good."
"Very good?" retorts Mey'Luskar half-hysterically in Her-Galad (the first time anyone has heard her speak that language) as she approaches, looking around at the fallen. "Very good?!? More blood on MY face!!!"
The dark figure looks at her, and his reaction is odd. His eyes widen for an instant, and then he looks away. "No," he says hoarsely. "Your face, and your soul, are clean. If there's any blame, it's mine." He looks over at the charred remains of the fallen Blue. "This is what I get for allowing myself to get rusty." He throws a vehement glance toward Nekshi. "And distracted!"
"But my..." starts Mey'Luskar in Her-Galad again, and then she gasps and switches to Yangae. "I knew some of them!" She takes a couple of steps toward where Vig. #2 is embedded in the wall. "Fel...she's...was...my friend!"
"Poisoned!" snaps the dark guy in Yangae, not looking at her. "She had the poison in her. Just like these two." He gestures toward Vig. #3 and Scan-helmet. "Any of them would have killed you in a second if they'd known the truth."
Realization crosses Mey'Luskar's face like a shadow. She puts her hand in her pocket.
The dark guy gestures understanding, still not looking at her. "She saw it, didn't she? With you?"
Mey'Luskar faints. One of the female Blues runs to her immediately.
The dark guy curses under his breath. Looking around, he says, "Fellows, here I'm known as The Cleaner. Welcome to my lair."
35 comments:
Nekshi, sensing the battle is over, exits the maintenance door and quickly approaches the party.
"Granite and I heard shots, what has happened? Who are these people? Is everyone alright?"
She sees the unfortunate vigilante embedded in the wall and turns a noticeably lighter shade.
"Did a Farbett...no. How is such a thing possible?"
She realizes she is babbling and sits down, rather too quickly.
"I think I am going to be sick, my apologies."
(My mistake. Vig. #3, the guy who started the whole thing, isn't dead. He's just knocked out.)
Ham isn't quite sure how to treat "Scanner-helmet". He's bleeding awfully fast. (He doesn't seem to have much on him besides his scanner-helmet, his machine pistol, and a couple of extra clips.)
Mon'Fargret has a bit more luck with Vig. #1, whose worst injury is his blasted arm. Having Pru there to help makes things easier, too. (Don, make a TER roll.)
The Cleaner simply touches the stricken Blue girl and concentrates deeply. His aura can be seen to flare bluish, and then he releases her. She seems to be alright. He seems to be tired.
The two priestesses (reluctantly) work on Vig. #3, using their own spirit mastery to heal his wounds. He's still out cold, however.
"We need a Geishana," observes one of the priestesses.
"We don't have one," retorts The Cleaner. "Just get them well enough to travel. We'll ask the Farbetts to take them to safety."
"But we can..." starts the priestess.
"No." The Cleaner gives her a look that has Finality written all over it. "The poisoned ones will not set foot in the Temple. And the others are better off among their own kind."
Dabid moves to help Mon'Fargret, but he's clearly quite taken with The Cleaner.
"Trees and roots!" he whispers with awe to Mon'Fargret. "Do you know who that is? It's Par'deth! One of the original Heroes that fought under Ganneth! It has to be!"
Aware that his name has been mentioned, The Cleaner throws a scornful look Dabid's way and then moves to where the priestesses are working on Vig. #3.
Rolled a 13 (15-13=2). He also has medic +2, but nothing in the way of Humpty Dumpty putting-back-together skills.
"Dabid, can you put pressure here while I see what I can do about the arm? One of the heroes, eh. Well, that is quite interesting. More pressure, Old Root. That's it," Mon'Fargret replies, now consumed again with the task at hand.
(Simply stopping the bleeding doesn't take much. He's not very strong, though.)
Pru is using her own first aid kit. "I've spliced his chest wound, my lord," she says, "but he has a cracked rib. I think his lung is okay."
While they are working, The Cleaner comes over. With a sigh, he says, "How's it coming, old friend?"
Pru stops for a second, her eyes widening. Resuming her work, she says to Mon'Fargret, "You know him, my lord?"
(I'm going to assume that Zeton is helping Ham with "Scan-helmet".)
I'll need a TER roll (d20) from InfoGeek.
Mon'Fargret replies, "He is my teacher, Lady."
He responds to Par'Deth, "Well met. It is good to see you again, sadly under these circumstances. This one is weak, but I think he will live and recover. I wish I could save his arm."
Par'deth looks over at the pile that used to be one of the Blues. "Lucky for him," he says with a sigh. Walking toward the fallen Blue, he looks around and says, "When you're ready, we have a job to do."
Pru seems puzzled and impressed at the same time. "Your teacher?" she whispers. "How did you get him to...I mean, my lord isn't a Herg..."
Zeton rolls an 11. 15-11=4.
Zeton tries to concentrate on helping Ham, but catches himself listening in on the conversation between Mon'Fargret and Par'Deth. Teacher thinks Zeton..., there must be a fascinating story about how Mon'Fargret became Par'Deth's pupil.
Although Zeton has experienced much in the last day, he feels better knowing he is safe, or as safe as he can be, now that he is reunited with his comrades. He looks forward to finding out what happened after the party splits up.
[detail fascist]
(People, watch how you spell Par'deth's name. The "d" in the middle isn't capitalized. He's not Foldorian. An apostrophe in Her-Galad means something completely different from that in Yangae. Specifically, the Yangae apostrophe has a grammatical meaning, whereas in Her-Galad it's phonetic [i.e. it has to do with pronunciation].)
[/detail fascist]
Zeton and Ham manage to stop most of the bleeding and stabilize "Scanner-helmet"'s condition, though he's in a coma (and missing the lower half of his face).
"Honored Hero," says the Lyranell priestess, rising from Vig. #3 with a very troubled look on her face, "This one..."
"I know," replies Par'deth. "The poison."
She shudders. "But what..."
"That's what we need to find out." He looks at Mey'Luskar for the briefest of moments and looks away again. "We need to get her to the Temple. Drag her kicking and screaming if we have to. Have the Kr'embol' look at that thing in her pocket. We also have to find out why she wasn't affected."
Two of the Blues approach him and bow. He turns to talk with them.
Pru's brows furrow to their limit. "What's he talking about?" she whispers. "What poison?"
Before Par'deth (not p'ArDetH or Parr'Death) speaks, Mon'Fargret replies to Pru, "You are right. I am not Hergoth, but he taught me anyway and I am grateful."
Then the other stuff happens and Pru asks about the poison...
Responding to Pru, "My lady, It appears as though some Yangae are being controlled by something or someone into acting in ways they otherwise wouldn't have. Mey'Luskar and you have not been affected, but ask yourself whether your comrade over here (he points at Vig #3) was normally prone to opening fire without provocation. I'm willing to bet that he wasn't."
"It is this change that the Hergoth can see more easily. They call it the Poison because it changes people. Mey'Luskar has witnessed it. If it were not for this mind control or Poison, 3 people right in this tunnel would still be alive now."
"I am sorry for your loss, but surely you've noticed something. For me, this goes beyond red and blue. We need to stop whoever is doing this."
Pru seems both surprised and strangely relieved. "Yes! Yes, you're right! I have...I always thought I was being paranoid! I mean..." She throws an embarrassed glance around the room and then leans forward and says more quietly, "You know, I joined the Night Guard because I thought the Hergs were trying to stamp us out! You know what I mean, don't you, my lord? Or are you from off...?"
"Have you been to Gastra much?" interrupts the Blue girl who is helping Mey'Luskar (in Her-Galad).
"Are you talking to me?" asks Pru (in Yangae).
The Blue gestures affirmative in Hergoth fashion.
"Oh, not...much," replies Pru. "But I really have nothing to say to you! You Blues've been nothing but trouble!"
The Blue girl's brows lower. "Oh?"
"Yes! All you do is threaten us!"
"Threaten you?" echoes the Blue, her eyes widening.
"Our backs are against the wall!" spits Pru. "Isn't it enough that you Hergs have completely screwed up our whole way of life? And you try to force feed us that...that muddy religion of yours?" She gestures angrily at the priestesses.
The Lyranell priestess starts forward, but Par'deth motions for her to stop, and the other priestess grabs her arm gently.
"No one's forcing anything on you Yangs!" retorts Blue Twelve from his position by his fallen comrade. "We don't give a flame how you live!"
"Then why do you keep vandalizing our shops?" Pru sets her first aid kit down and slaps her thighs angrily. "Attacking our people when they only want to be themselves? And your so-called 'Peace Force' won't even protect us! We can't even go out at night anymore without worrying we might get beaten up by a gang of Herg thugs just like you! That's why we patrol the night with guns! We are on the defensive!"
"I've heard that before," says Par'deth calmly. "In fact, I kept hearing it for over two hundred years. Except it was coming from us."
Dabid sighs with awe.
Pru hesitates, not sure what to say. Then she says in a low, wavering voice, "That still doesn't give you the right!"
"No, it doesn't," replies Par'deth. He throws a vehement glare at Blue Twelve and adds, "and it won't." He looks at Mey'Luskar again, gestures dismissal, and goes over to Blue Twelve's location.
Nekshi with her head in hands responds to no one in particular, "It's called "Conqueror's Syndrome", and it's not limited by race, religion or economic status. Nor logic, as the Zorlans found to their dismay."
She stands shakily to her feet and walks to where Zeton and Ham have been extracting the sensor unit from the jawless victim.
"It's been theorized that the expression of anger or aggression or any strong emotion is balanced within a system just like a vectored force is in Teliman's Fourth Equation of Universal Distribution."
She takes the helmet from Ham and examines it closely, holding it before her like a metal skull and continues her soliloquy.
"As to what aspect this balancing energy takes we might be naive and hope that compassion and forgiveness arise, yet that is not usually the case, rather it is aggression in the opposite direction causing depression or anxiety if absorbed or irrational behavior if deflected in a semi-random pattern... as in a photonic dispersion."
She gets certain look in her eye which perhaps only Zeton recognizes as a "gleam".
"Individuals and, by design, societies can be better viewed as analogous to simple atomic reactions, i.e each have reactive layers which tend to inhibit or encourage certain exchanges of energies, based on 'known' physical laws. Thus a skilled 'chemist', working with an emotionally prepared and tested population sample (a pure assay), can create a cultural 'molecule' by combining other cultural elements in precise conditions. The result, strychnine, cyanide, nicotine. A poison!"
She gets a very scared look on her face and looks at Par'deth.
"Oh, by the Laws of Nature, tell me I'm wrong!"
Among the Blues (and others, too, I'd bet) there are looks of puzzlement and a few baffled, monosyllabic grunts.
Par'deth allows himself a grin.
"You and the Kr'embol' tech-priestess back at the temple should get along really well," he says. Then he becomes grim again. "But the poison we're dealing with comes from a far deeper, more dangerous source."
The Blues that were carefully removing Vig. #2 from the wall indicate that they've been successful.
"Right," says Par'deth. He looks around. "Are the others stable?" Satisfied that they are, he says, "Alright. For those of you that are interested, a Call of Remembrance for the fallen." He adds very deliberately, "All of them."
The point is taken, if a bit grudgingly. The Blues assemble.
Pru sighs and smirks. "Hergs," she says quietly.
Mey'Luskar sits up and stares at her vacantly.
"She's your friend," observes Dabid, nodding toward Vig. #2. "You might consider joining them."
Pru shrugs. "She fought honorably, if stupidly. Her death is no shame."
"Her death wasn't necessary at all," retorts Mey'Luskar dazedly. Then she turns and faces the gathered Hergoth as they start the haunting Song of Remembrance.
Not everyone understands the words. Indeed, they are in a very archaic form of the Her-Galad High Speech. But their ambience fills the tunnel with an emotion that's hard to identify. It goes straight to the heart, penetrating the thickest of walls.
First Pru snickers, but then she starts to give way. She fails to hide the tear that goes down her cheek before she jumps to her feet and stomps off, sobbing to herself.
"Why are we so afraid?" whispers Mey'Luskar to herself, and then she buries her face in her knees.
Nekshi waits respectfully until the Remembrance is finished then heads over to Mon'Fargret and Dabid.
"Kruk! I thought I had this 'poison' thing figured out! I wasted an entire epiphany on that reasoning."
She pouts.
"Have you deduced the importance of Mey'Luskar yet? I think they're taking us to the Temple soon. Luckily it's a short walk."
The Song of Remembrance strikes a deep cord within Zeton. Despite the fact he is not Hergoth, Zeton joins in the Song without hesitation. The Her-Galad High Speech fascinates him and he loves hearing it; both spoken and in song. He doesn't know all the words, but he does the best he can.
It amazes him how calming the song affects him. When it is over, he is unsure of what to do next, never having participated in a Call of Remembrance. Zeton collects himself, checks his gear and prepares to depart.
Upon hearing Nekshi say the Temple isn't very far away, he decides he'll hobble along the best he can on his own, instead of hitching a ride on Widj. She must be tired of being a mode of transportation by now.
"Nekshi, your epiphany wasn't wasted, it just wasn't the right answer for our situation. I found it very enlightening, even if I didn't understand it all. Besides, I haven't seen you this excited in quite sometime." Zeton smiles for the first time since the dinner party and relaxes a bit, although he knows there are harder trails ahead.
Despite all assurances Ham still does a 360 scan with his own scanner when the song is over. Nothing wrong about being too cautious.
To Par'Deth he responds with a few sentences in Biton and shrugs, and takes stock of the new inventory.
Nekshi smiles at Zeton and pats his arm, "Thank you. I was just a little overwhelmed at the time, being in the presence of a super-being and such."
"We can discuss my theories with the Priestess later. I have a feeling we'll be having quite the conversation about this 'poison' soon."
After the Call of Remembrance is over, Par'deth turns to address the group.
"Some Farbett friends are on their way," he says. "They'll carry the fallen Yangae up to the surface. The Geishana acolytes have already been informed, and they'll take them to a Yangae hospital here in Ekr'in." He looks at Pru. "Sufficient?" he asks in Yangae.
"Yes," she replies, looking a bit stupefied.
"Blue Twelve," continues Par'deth, "take a few of the fellows, only a few, and accompany them. They'll be wanting an explanation. Ekr'in's force is probably pretty strung out now, but give them your full cooperation. Hide nothing from them."
"Yes, honored master," replies Blue Twelve a little less than enthusiastically.
"Pu'Laru is also to be treated with respect," Par'deth adds firmly, gesturing toward Pru. "We're on equal terms. Read?"
Blue Twelve glares briefly at Pru and then bows. "Read, honored master."
Par'deth nods grimly. "Mon'Fargret, take your friends and go with the priestesses. I'll open the gate, but I won't follow." He gestures toward Mey'Luskar. "Make sure she goes with you." Then he turns to go.
"Wait!" says Pru, and she starts to approach, but thinks better of it when the Blues quickly close ranks in front of her. Looking at Mey'Luskar, she says, "Meskar, are you really going to go with them?"
"Yes," she replies abruptly, still looking dazed.
"To the witch mountain?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm going with you!" She gives the Blues a contemptuous glance. "If you'll excuse me..."
Blue Twelve is astonished. With a sneer, he asks, "You're leaving everything up to us?"
Pru looks at Par'deth, and her eyes gleam. "I owe him that much! For honor's sake!"
Par'deth meets her gaze only briefly. "Oh, and Blue Twelve..."
"Honored master?"
"Vandalizing shops? Waylaying people in the street?"
"We only go after the ones that spread hate and lies!" He gives Pru a look that would ignite paper.
"Vandalizing shops? Waylaying people in the street?" Par'deth puts his hands in his pockets. "So now we are as the Yangae Purifiers of the Occupation?"
"Honored master, what else should we do?"
Par'deth looks at Mon'Fargret and Pru in turn. "The Foldorians are a closed people, little brother. They keep their feelings locked inside. Locked inside their hearts, locked behind their doors. So let them rage behind their doors. If you break them down, the hate will spill out, and it will get stronger! You only need to guard against what comes out!"
Pru sighs. "This guy is so cool!"
The Blues hang their heads.
Par'deth chews his lip as if debating with himself, and then he adds, "It's something I learned from Ganneth before you were all born."
Pru gasps. "You mean you're not..."
Par'deth's lip curls. "I'll forgive you. After all, I wound up making pretty much all the same mistakes he did. Almost all." He turns to go.
"Come," say the priestesses in synch.
[in sync]
[n sync]
As people gather to go, Mon'Fargret falls in with Par'Deth and says, "I know The Way is sometimes inscrutable, but I have long hoped to thank you for what you've taught me. Your abrupt departure prevented that, but I am glad to see you again."
Par'deth allows himself a grim smile. "At least it wasn't all a waste of time, right?" He winks (or at least does the Foldorian equivalent). He nods toward Mey'Luskar and adds, "There's a reason she came to you. I thank the Entity for that tiny spark of light in all this dark."
The party follows the priestesses through the maintenance hatch into the chamber behind it. Par'deth then walks ahead and says, "Tell Mountain-Eye I'm ready." The priestesses bow to him, and then he appears to enter a trance.
After a few seconds, there is a swirl of light on one wall, and a glowing portal seems to open.
Without hesitation, one of the priestesses (the offworlder one) steps through. The Lyranell priestess bows to everyone and says, "Follow me, and don't be afraid." Then she turns and follows her companion.
Nekshi mimics the Priestess' swaying hip walk and Lyranell accent, "Follow me, there's nothing to be afraid of.." (she mumbles something under her breath about religious zealots.)
She pauses in front of the door, "Well it worked fine coming the other direction. Clears the sinuses."
She walks through.
Mey'Luskar pauses and stares at the portal. "Pru," she says weakly, "you don't have to do this. It's not your branch."
"Hey, we came down here to protect you!" retorts Pru. "Now I'm the only one left! Well, besides your artist lord friend...who's a damned good shot! But I..."
"Pru, I haven't been honest with you."
"Well, who has? I mean, come on..."
"No, I mean..." Mey'Luskar pulls her collar open to expose her caste mark.
Pru chuckles. "Woah! So I'll call you 'lady' from now on. Unless you invite me to your level. No big deal. At least it means there's no rot in your friendship with your artist pal here."
"Pru, there's more..."
"That thing in your pocket the Big Guy wants back? I didn't even know about it till Bof said it...just before he got all funky with his damned pulse-baffler! If that's what messed our friends up, I want to know what it is, too! My foot's in the mud, Mesk...er, my lady. You're stuck with me."
"Um..." Mey'Luskar draws a very deep breath, plays with her hands, and glances at Mon'Fargret and Par'deth in turn. "Um...Pru, what if I told you..."
"Your lodger's really a Noble? Mesk...er, lady, we all knew! I'm happy to know now there's one less level of rot there. But he's not your..."
"No, Pru, No! No! Not that! It's me! I'm...uh..."
"Pregnant? Well, that'll tie you down, but at least you'll get..."
"I'm half Hergoth."
"W-what was that? Did you mean you..."
"I'M HALF HERGOTH!!!"
The procession pauses as everyone (except Par'deth) stares at Mey'Luskar in surprise at her outburst. She herself looks positively stunned. "Roots and branches," she mumbles. "I said it!"
"Woah," says Pru. "Woah. I mean, just...woah. I...woah." She half staggers to the rear of the procession. "Woah."
"Woah," echoes Dabid mockingly.
[Sorry, I posted before updating to read MMs comment.]
Mon'Fargret nods approvingly at Mey'Luskar. He tells her, "I will talk to Pru. You go on through and I will join you momentarily."
Throwing a stern glance at Dabid, "Manners, Old Root. I will see you shortly."
Mon'Fargret then meanders back towards Pru. He says, "Join me on my level."
"Why don't we wait till we get through that thing," replies Pru, tossing her head toward the portal. "Better yet, let me get some shut-eye first. It's late, I'm tired, and my whole muddy world is getting torn to shreds right before my eyes."
"On the contrary, my lord," says Dabid, "my respect for the lady just tripled." With that, he steps through the portal. Mey'Luskar follows behind him.
"Sounds good. Come to think of it. I am exhausted. After you."
To keep things rolling, unless there are any protests or unscheduled performances, I'm going to assume the party proceeds through the portal. Everyone emerges from the same archway that Nekshi and Granite Spear came through with the junior priestesses before.
The party is greeted by a Kai-Kr'embol' tech priestess and a priestess who is clearly of relatively high rank. (Most of the party hasn't met either yet.)
The priestess says with sympathy, "You've all had a very long and hard day. Now it's best for you to get some rest. We've prepared rooms for you. You can relax and be at peace. You're quite safe here." Then she looks at Pru. "There is one problem, though. There is one soul here we didn't expect. It will take time to prepare another room."
"Give her mine," says Mey'Luskar in a voice that's barely audible. "I'll sleep somewhere else."
Pru says nothing.
"One of the larger rooms in your section has a roll-away bed we stowed away to make room for...larger accommodations," says the priestess. "We can have it ready again in no time."
"Fine," retorts Mey'Luskar.
The two young priestesses look at each other worriedly.
"The room's current occupant might be a little surprised," adds the priestess. "We'll let you work it out."
Mey'Luskar gulps but says nothing.
The two young priestesses bow to their senior. The Lyranell one turns and says to the party in Yangae, "Follow us please." Then they turn to go.
As the party starts to move out, Pru looks around and snorts derisively. "Out of a tunnel into a tunnel, eh?" she observes. Then she stares at the archway. "Woah! Have a feast on that! Is that...is that witchery or machinery?"
The tech priestess crosses her arms and replies very deliberately in Yangae, "How about 'both'?"
Pru gives her a strange look and hurries after the party.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Granite will return to the pond, and get some shuteye. To concur with MF, "blblblblbblblblblblbblblbl"
With the exception of Widjgleeby, who was allocated a room specially designed for Farbetts on the upper basement floor (plus Granite Spear, who is in the pond), everyone is given a room in the same wing on the third floor. Moreover, everyone has his or her own room except Mey'Luskar, who is put in Lirassa's room.
(Lirassa wakes up long enough to make her chagrin plain, but goes right back to sleep.)
(Come to think of it, Nekshi is also in a twin room, and Granite Spear isn't using it, but oh, well.)
The junior priestesses and acolytes are looking rather red-eyed and fed up, but they go about their tasks with vigor and get everyone settled in without too much trouble. They inform the party that breakfast will be provided free in the cafeteria on the first floor, and there is also the option of eating at the cafe in the concessions building (for a charge). The usual explanation of the bathing facilities is given. After that, the priestesses and acolytes bid the group a cheerful (and very relieved) good night and scram, no doubt to the sanctuary of their own quarters.
Pru's complaint about the tiny holovid and lack of com facilities goes completely unnoticed.
Thus ends what was probably the longest day in everyone's life. (It seemed more like seven months!)
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