At the Artists' Homestead

Constable Pal'dun takes a roundabout route on purpose, heading well west before circling around and approaching the Artists' Square area from the opposite side. He also takes a lot of detours to avoid the main routes. It is late afternoon (well past lunchtime) by the time the van rolls up the narrow street behind Mon'Fargret's home/studio.

"The triasks promised they'd watch the place," says Mey'Luskar. "I'm sure it's okay!"

"Even triasks can be bought," retorts Dabid flatly.

As he says this, a girl can be seen walking along the narrow, empty street with the characteristic swaying gait of a triask not far away. Considering the street is little more than an alley, she looks a bit out of place.

"He does have a point," says Constable Pal'dun.

"Her heart is true," says Bina quietly. "There's no betrayal...and no danger."

"Of course!" says Mey'Luskar pointedly, glaring at Dabid. "Never underestimate Yangae honor!"

Dabid only tosses his head in reply.

"Alright then," says Pal'dun, and he unseals the doors. "I guess I'm leaving all of you here. What you do from here on is up to you, but let us know if anything happens...and please try to stay out of trouble!"

(UPDATE: For the record, now that the graphic is up, the party entered the compound through the gate from the alley at lower right, behind the house.)

Relocating Again

After a little bit more minor quibbling, the group decides to take Constable Pal'dun up on his offer, and they follow him outside the building.

Considering the less than ideal state of the club, the grounds outside the building look quite nice, if a bit gloomy. It is pretty easy to tell that it is up in the Tuli Hills area overlooking Danstul' Park; beyond the sculpted lawns and gardens there is little to be seen but tree-covered hills and the upper stories of a couple of rather old-looking, Yangae-style towers. The building in which the club is housed is of similar style and age, and it is actually rather stately.

There are a number of vehicles parked in a haphazard fashion. Most of them are Peace Force vans, bikes, and cruisers, but there are also a few more ordinary-looking cars and a microbus. The Geishana ambulances are just now starting to get underway. Tellingly, there is a garage/hangar structure nearby, and its one open door shows only an empty space.

Dauk can be seen getting into a Peace Force cruiser that is obviously preparing to leave. Pru, on the other hand, appears to be walking toward the gate to the estate at a slow pace.

As the group makes its way toward one of the vans, Pal'dun gestures to the nearby officers, and they salute and step aside. Before anyone can board, however, Pal'dun comes to a halt and holds up his hand.

The sound of running, booted feet can be heard. It's Constable Betham. Drawing near to the group, he heaves a heavy sigh and does a little dance of irritation before he says, "You're leaving, are you? Alright then. Just be careful and stay out of trouble, would you? And stay in touch! This isn't over yet."

"You mean we haven't beaten it yet?" says Lirassa sarcastically.

Psy-gifted or not, Betham shows no sign of getting the joke. Glaring, he leans in closer and adds more quietly, "Maybe this is a temporary victory. We still have two very big problems here. One, Mas'Vallaf is still missing, and it looks like he has his top thugs with him. Two, Br'am was right about one point; Par'ai said it was all happening at the Scarlet Revival. This is the Scarlet Revival, and it's not the place we're looking for. As far as evidence is concerned, we've got til'uan droppings. You know we're gonna need a lot more than that to even make a case."

"If I may," says Pal'dun, "there's still the Second Chancer videos. They're coming out in a few days! We can try to delay them, but..."

"But we'd end up knee-deep in political kĕl'wàk," spits Betham. "We've got no case. Curse it, we don't even know who's distributing the damned things! Bottom line, we need anything we can get. Any tidbit of info. You find something, you let me know! And don't try to take any action on your own! We barely got out of this one, right? Best path!" With that, he bows stiffly, turns on his heel, and stomps off.

"Right," says Pal'dun. He gestures toward the van. "Shall we go?"

Decisions

The Geishana start hauling the wounded outside, and the fully conscious Yangae militiamen gather themselves up to go. As for the Hergoth Peace Forcers, there seem to be more now than there were before, and they are either performing police work, helping the Geishana, or just milling about looking around in wonder.

Dauk and Pru approach the party a bit hesitantly, Dauk with a bit of a limp. Seeing this, Constable Pal'dun comes as well.

After a wary glance at Pal'dun, Dauk looks at Mon'Fargret, bows awkwardly, and says, "My lord, I meant what I said. We want this thing gone. Until then, we all have a common cause. I don't know if the Hergs will respect that, but I know you will."

Zeton, who has been fiddling with his wrister on and off for the past several minutes, finally heaves a sigh of relief as a welcome tone sounds. Then he can be heard speaking Yangae quietly.

Pel'dun raises the visor of his helmet and says, "I think lack of respect is the root of a lot of our problems right now."

"Just how deep is that root?" wonders Dauk. "Alright, Constable. For now at least we'll leave that one buried. I need to go with my team to the hospital. I'm sure they'll be wanting to ask questions." He makes a face as if the words tasted awful. "Allow me to give you a code so you can contact me." He starts fiddling with his wrister.

"I need to go too," says Pru. "My team...you know." She draws a breath and lets it out slowly. "I'd like to meet up with you later. Where are you going next?" She glances at Pal'dun. "You are going, aren't you?"

Pal'dun shrugs. "I don't see why not. But I'd like to have an idea where you're going in case something comes up."

During the ensuing pause, Zeton can be heard saying to his wrister, "You know the spot, we recently had lunch there. Shall we meet there, in say an hour?"

There are some looks of surprise and of confusion. Then Lirassa says, "Do you think they'll even let us in?"

"Where?" asks Pru, puzzled at everyone's reaction.

Same Song, Fifteen Thousandth Verse

This time the group makes the trip back to the club the old fashioned way: They walk. True to Dusker's word, all the security features have been deactivated. There is no sign of the vambli as the group goes down the stairs and circles around through what are apparently preparation and waiting rooms for club staff or performers. (There is, however, the rather mangled corpse of a Peace Force patrolman.) They enter the club through the door next to the bar.

The first thing that greets them on their return is a look on Betham's face that could wilt a hillside in the Goer'dan cloud forest.

"You let him get away," he growls, "didn't you?"

"That's right," replies Par'deth calmly. "He's more use to us out there than here."

"Oh, I'm sure," says Betham testily. "Especially if he starts shooting people, assuming he doesn't wind up getting blown away first. Really useful!"

"I trust his honor," says Par'deth.

"If he gave you his word," says Dauk, "I'm sure he'll keep it."

"Unless he changes his mind," suggests Detective Gar'en.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?" says Pru. "You calling him a liar?"

"I'm only stating a possibility," replies Gar'en.

"What possibility?" demands Pru.

"He thinks Yangae honor means dirt," suggests Blue Yangae D with a mocking giggle. "Same old story!"

"There are no absolutes," says Constable Pal'dun. "Honor means different things to different people. If Par'deth..."

"Different things?" says Blue Yangae D, his voice starting to rise. "Maybe among you Hergs! You can't make up your minds, can you? That's why you have to have someone else control them for you all the time!" He gestures toward the priestesses.

"We do NOT control people's minds!" spits Bina. Keil'i quickly grabs her arm.

"Don't bother," says one of the yellow-marked Yangae on the floor weakly. "They'll never understand."

"No, they won't, will they?" says Blue Yangae D. "But we still have to live by their rules, don't we?"

"I didn't think they had rules," says Dauk with a chuckle.

"Of course we do!" says Constable Pal'dun, his calm demeanor cracking. "Why do you think we're here?"

"To protect your own!" replies Blue Yangae D. "You don't give a clod about us!"

"Why do you think we're here?" adds Dauk. "Fair is fair, right?"

"You aren't sanctioned," retorts Detective Gar'en. He nods toward the yellow-marked Yangae on the floor. "You're also a security risk!"

"The warrrrr has begunnnnn," sings Wari.

"We're a necessary evil," replies Dauk.

"You're a public nuisance!" counters Gar'en. "That's an arrestable offense!"

"You mean like your Blues?" demands Blue Yangae D. "Have you arrested any of them? How much protection have you given us against them? None! Bad enough they're scaring people off the streets and out of their businesses south of the river! Now they're here in Ekr'in, and you guys just look the other way every time!"

"The Blues will no longer give you any trouble," says Par'deth.

"I'll vouch for that," admits Pru.

"Well, I appreciate that!" says Dauk sincerely. "They were honorable enough regarding the others in your team, Pru. I'll give them that."

"It's a start," snarls Blue Yangae D.

"What more do you want?" asks Bina impatiently.

Blue Yangae D eyes her sourly before snarling, "Not much point in mentioning it."

Suddenly everyone is jarred to silence by the crash of a table thrown halfway across the room. Trying to collect his composure, Betham looks at his trembling gauntlets and says, "I don't give a flaming lump what you or anyone else here wants! In case you pack of gits can't figure it out, we still have a problem! Last time I checked, the problem was more serious for you than for us! Am I mistaken here?" He glares bolts of pure ice at the Yangae militiamen. "Now of course, since we obviously don't give a clod about what happens to you, we could just ignore the whole thing and let you suffer, right?" He kicks a chair. "It's not happening, is it?"

"You don't have much choice, Constable," says Dauk impassively. "This thing is turning the Yangae against you! It's simple survival, and you know it."

Betham mutters something under his breath.

"We have a common enemy," continues Dauk. "Therefore we have a common cause. We respect that."

"And if we overcome it?" asks Constable Pal'dun.

"Right back at each other's throat," spits Gar'en as he activates his wrister and starts pecking at it.

"We're not giving in to you!" says Blue Yangae D. "You're not controlling our minds!"

"That's exactly what he said!" says Betham, gesturing at Br'am. Then he gestures at the yellow-marked Yangae. "That's probably what they said! And Dusker, and Mek, and...whatever. Probably even Mas'Vallaf! They all said it! What did it get them?" With a sigh, he stomps off in the direction of the exit.

Pru gives Dauk a horrified look.

"He does have a point," says Mey'Luskar quietly.

Accountings

Ham's scanner shows that the security blocks are still in effect. The way out is not clear.

Widjgleeby looks understandably curious as she rises to her feet. She is not the only one. Even those that witnessed the spectacle show expressions ranging from puzzled to totally blown away.

As the priestesses relax from their trance and heave a sigh of relief, Gaima and Bina move to help Keil'i. Per'anai fixes Mey'Luskar with her gaze.

Dauk and Blue Yangae D start checking out the yellow-marked Yangae again. Constable Pal'dun heaves a heavy sigh of rapture and turns to examine Mek. As he does so, Dusker says, "Hey there, I'd like my hands and legs unhooked, if you don't mind." When Pal'dun only glances at him warily, he adds, "They're probably going to need my help shutting everything down!" Pal'dun then looks over at Betham, who answers with a grim gesture of affirmative.

"Alright," says Pal'dun as he stoops to unlock Dusker's restraints. "Don't do anything stupid!"

"Too late for that," retorts Dusker darkly.

"The enemy is gone," croons Wari from her sofa.

"Yeah," concurs Pru, probing around with her ring. "Nothing! Nothing at all! They're all clean!"

Per'anai gestures affirmative Yangae style and says, "The power of the Rune has been broken for now. Everyone poisoned by it has been freed."

"Um...for now?" echoes Pru, her eyebrows quickly drooping.

"The enemy's presence here was only an extension of itself, thank the Entity," explains the priestess. "But the fact that it could do these things means one of two possibilities. Either it has a primary host somewhere here in Mul'ein, or..."

"I won't ask," says Pru.

"You don't need to," says Detective Gar'en. "Honored Teacher, do you honestly believe the Atlanzi is here in person?"

"Atlanzi?" echoes Dauk. "Is that...?"

"No," replies Per'anai, "I do not. If it were, the Sentinel would respond to it directly, and woe would be to all of us!"

"What the skaz is an 'Atlanzi'?" demands Blue Yangae D.

"A good reason to panic," replies Dauk. "I don't like the sound of that 'Sentinel' she mentioned, either." Then he says in a louder voice, "If you'll excuse me! I know this is probably a witch thing and a whole lot bigger than I am, but I'd really like to know what's going on!"

Per'anai studies him for a few seconds and then replies, "This is not a 'witch thing'. It involves you a lot more than you think, or at least it should. The greatest danger is to the children of Foldorius!"

How Many Dilemmas?

Constable B-1, whose nameplate reads "Pal'dun", responds to Zeton's inquiries by saying a polite, "One moment, please," over his wrist scanner. Then he cries, "This one is flatlined!"

"Br'am, too," reports Patrolman 2. "We need Geishana here!"

"We could use them, too," says Blue Yangae A as his fellows tend to their yellow-marked comrades.

"Right," says Betham. He starts to raise his wrister, but he's interrupted by a cry from Detective Gar'en.

"Negative! We're still in a danger zone!"

"What do you mean?" demands Betham.

"Probably this!" cries Constable B-3 from his position at the main entrance. Holding the door open, he gestures outside.

Just beyond the door there lies what is probably Blue Yangae E, or what's left of him anyway. His armor is all but flattened, and he is surrounded by a puddle of what appears to be his own bodily fluids. The noisome goo has a strange, viscous quality as if it were liquid mercury.

Constable B-3 pulls a flyer from a bulletin board next to the door, crumples it up, and tosses it outside. As soon as it crosses the threshold, the paper suddenly drops to the floor as if pulled by a great magnet and flattens with a surprisingly large thud.

"Stasis zone!" says Blue Yangae A. "Or grav. Are all the entrances blocked?"

"No," replies Detective Gar'en, "just that one. The others are clear."

"No..." moans Dusker. He looks at Mon'Fargret. "The guards!"

"Patrolman Bel'in!" says Detective 2, pointing at the door next to the stage. "I-I think he's still..."

"Flames," mutters Betham, and he activates his wrister. "Bel'in! Patrolman Bel'in! Report!" He looks at the door, clearly raising his psy senses. "This is Betham! Put your spirit back on its hook! Report!"

The wrister beeps. "Um...sir...I-I'm sorry! I..."

"Bel'in, you flaming, weak-spined excuse for a putz! Running out on us when you're needed?"

"I just...Br'am..."

"Get your stinking carcass back here three minutes ago!"

"Yes, sir! I-I'm sorry, sir! I...AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!"

From the wrister comes the sounds of a struggle. A rather brief struggle. It ends with a sickening snap followed by a crash. Then there is only silence.

"The guards have us in their power," says Dusker.

"Patr'im," says Betham anxiously into his wrister. "Report! The guards! Are they still in your custody?"

Silence.

"We can't get out," says Dusker.

Justice Switches Arms

Just then the double doors burst open with a bang, there is a clack of armored boots, and a familiar voice says, "Superintendent Br'am! Are you busy now?"

The superintendent's eyes widen and then furrow.

"What in flames are YOU doing here?" demands Constable Panith.

"Betham!" snaps the superintendent. "You gl'imm! You were ordered to patrol..."

"...to patrol the eastern side of the Park," interrupts Betham as he strides in flanked by three other armored constables. "Not that there was anything there. You have an important message, but it seems your com is down. I came here to deliver it personally."

"Right, whatever!" snaps the superintendent. "Give me the message, and be quick about it!"

"Com silence and blockers too?" asks Betham playfully as he and his team thread their way through the tables. "And the Night Guard? Is this normal procedure for our district?"

"The situation calls for special measures," replies the superintendent. "Now give me the message and get your ass back out on your bikes!"

"Very well," says Betham. He waves his team off just as they're passing by the party. He himself comes to a stop directly in front of the superintendent. Then he glances back at Par'deth and shifts a bit to the side. "There are two parts to the message. I'm guessing the first is evidence. The second part is probably instructions. I'll play 'em in that order."

"Fine!" snaps the superintendent.

Betham holds up his wrister, taps in a sequence, and then pauses as a holo display appears.

(From behind the party there is a sound of carefully shifting stools.)

"All lies!" cries Keil'i. "Lies and betrayal! How can you call yourself a representative of..."

There is a flash and crackle of a stun bolt, and Keil'i collapses to the ground, blue sparks playing about her form.

Bina lets out a verbal and psychic scream and runs to her companion's side.

"Just an unfortunate precaution," says the superintendent with a sigh. "She'll be alright. Your name is Bina, right? At least you're a local, so you should understand."

[cut]

"Extreme..." sings Wari in Her-galad (mimicking Constable Panith). "Even more extreme when controlled...not by the Temple, but still controlled! Poison in the air..."

"Shut up!" snaps Constable Panith, switching on his stun baton.

"Who pulls your strings, Constable?" sings Wari as if in a dream.

"I said shut up!" growls Panith, and he moves toward her menacingly.

"Wari, don't!" hisses Blaghl.

"Smile for the cameraaaaaas..." Wari sings, glancing around the room.

Panith hesitates, glancing around, each breath a growl of rage, then, with a most un-Hergoth howl, his control gives way, and he jabs the Bolgan violently with his baton. Her attempt to dodge is unsuccessful. There is a crackle of stun fire, and she quietly collapses.

Breathing as if on the verge of hyperventilation, Constable Panith wheels around, brandishing his baton as if half berserk, and growls, "You...will...all...obey...authority!"

An almost tangible wave of tension spreads through the club.

"And now the second part," says Betham as the holo image changes. [His other hand can be seen to move closer to his sidearm.]

"Superintendent Br'am," says the face as it fades into focus, "you, Panith, and Ter'nbath are relieved of all duties and under arrest, effective immediately!"

"TRAITORS!!!" yells Panith.

At the same time, a psychic scream like "KYAAAAAAATH" echoes through everyone's mind as Par'deth becomes a thing of fire.

(I'll be needing speed point rolls. Use the number and type of dice indicated for 1st exchange according to your SPD attribute. The table is here.)

The Wrong Arm of Justice

Zeton and Lirassa are still fussing over the computer when both Widjgleeby and Ham announce that the approaching force has made it to the room outside.

A moment later, an amplified, Hergoth-sounding voice speaking Her-galad blares, "Peace Force! This area is under security! Stand down and present yourselves!" The order is then repeated in Yangae.

"Should we take cover?" whispers Pru anxiously.

"No," says Bina. "We'd better do what they say."

"Show no resistance!" advises Keil'i.

Suddenly Mek screams hysterically, "IN HERE! IN HERE! HELP US! THEY'RE ROBBING THE PLACE!"

Boots can be heard scrambling toward the entrance to the chamber. Then the order to stand down and present is repeated from the doorway.

Mek continues, "STOP THEM! HURRY! THEY'LL RUIN EVERYTHING!"

"We are from the Temple!" shouts Bina. "We offer no violence!"

"Stay where you are," says a relatively deep Hergoth-sounding voice in Her-galad but using a telepathic translator. "Make no aggressive moves! This area is under security!"

Two Peace Force officers in armor step through the door with pistols drawn. Keil'i steps forward carefully to present herself, hands held open. Bina rises painfully to do the same.

"All of you," says one of the officers (though not the deep-voiced one), "move to the open area! Do it now!"

There is a nice, cheerful bleep of confirmation from Lirassa's wrister. Muffling her sigh of relief, she quickly shuts it off.

"You there," says the officer, "move away from the machine! Hands where we can see them!"

As he speaks, a third Peace Force officer swaggers in behind the first two. He is a bit brawnier. His markings also show him to be of higher rank than the others.

"Come on now," he says in the deep voice heard before. "I know you don't want trouble, so don't make any. Let's see all of you move over there so we can see you, nice and easy. And while we're at it, why don't we just see you leave your weapons on the floor as you go. It's safer for all of us that way."

"Superintendent!" says Pru with surprise. Then she smirks. "Why aren't you at your desk?"

"Why aren't you in a hospital bed like the rest of your team, Pru?" asks the superintendent. "Or a box? You, too! With the others! Move!"

In the Depths of a Den of Vice

The room beyond the door seems larger than expected, especially considering how small and insignificant the doorway was. Perhaps it is a trick of the eerie, dim, greenish lighting, but once the party gets past the various racks and piles of boxes near the entrance, the chamber opens up and appears quite cavernous.

The air inside seems a bit thick, and its aroma is a weird combination of ozone, solvents, warehouse mustiness, old bapf, vomit, some sour scent that defies explanation, Yangae-style spiced room freshener, and even spicier dasch smoke. (Widjgleeby is not amused.)

In one corner there is a sort of platform whose surface is very shiny black, but the reflected light betrays a sort of mottled appearance, as if it were made up of many thousands of tiny tiles. A low hum which fills the room clearly emanates from this bizarre edifice (which looks quite familiar to Mon'Fargret and Pru).

A tall, apparently female humanoid in armor with a multitude of weapons stands guard next to the platform. On seeing Par'deth, she bows stiffly but remains in position.

Not far away, there is an untidy-looking half circle of tables holding control panels, monitor plates, cased or rack-mounted machinery, a variety of equipment tossed about, and a veritable collection of drink cups, food containers, dirty dishes, and ashtrays. The floor in the vicinity of the tables is even messier.

A female Bolgan is busily examining the machinery. She doesn't respond to the party at all. She doesn't look happy, either.

Next to the tables, seated in chairs and apparently restrained, are two Yangae men (of the Yangae ethnic group). One of the two, who doesn't look familiar to the party, immediately greets Par'deth with a torrent of curses and thrashes about helplessly. The other, however, eyes the party calmly as they come in. There is no mistaking who it is.

"Be still, Mek," he says with apparent amusement, making no attempt to hide his Noble caste pronunciation. "We have new guests!" He glances about the party and offers a nod of greeting, a grin crossing his face. "Ah! The honorable artist! With his blue sidekick, of course! And the oversized mock-Hergoth investigator or spy known as...what is it...Zayton? Here with the warrior whore from Wirg's? How interesting! In fact, I believe I saw that Farbett at Wirg's, too, only yesterday! I remember she was with a very talkative Zorlan who had a spiny, alien sidekick! I don't see either of those or the sickening, hooded thing they latched onto; otherwise I'd suspect half of Wirg's lunchtime clientele had dropped in for bapf!" He squints a bit looking at Ham. "I don't remember that one. I'm probably the better for it." Then he turns his gaze to Pru. "I do know you, however. Pru! A true citizen! What are you doing mixed up with this lot?" He lifts scornful eyes to the priestesses.

As The Soundtrack Switches to a Slightly Ominous Theme...

Atop the hill...

The lay priestesses and acolytes succeed in clearing all the tourists out of the Temple, making way for the party to enter. Once the group is inside the sanctuary, the doors are closed behind them...with the lay priestesses and others outside.

The three priestesses with the party look at each other briefly with apparent puzzlement, and then their silent questions are apparently answered by a sudden swirl of green soulfire. A priestess appears who the party hasn't seen before. She gives the party nothing but a stern glance before turning her attention to the three younger priestesses. A silent conversation is shared, and then the higher-ranked priestess leads everyone through the passages down to the gate as before.

The gate chamber is empty save the gate itself; there is no sign of Par'ai.

"Par'ai is busy elsewhere," explains Gaima. "Kal'mai Ash-Light will operate the gate. I will send Keil'i Glowing-Hill and Bina with you. I will stay here with Mey'Luskar. Par'deth is waiting for you on the other side. Hopefully this won't take long."

With that, the higher ranking priestess turns to the gate and sings to it in the eerie vocal/psychic harmony. It responds by activating as before, forming a glowing portal beneath the shimmering gem.

Mey'Luskar whispers something in Mon'Fargret's ear, kisses him on the cheek abruptly as if it burns her, and moves away from the group with Gaima.

"Come!" says Keil'i, and she steps through the portal.

***

On the lower circle...

Nekshi and Kuluf board the vehicle without any trouble. Granite Spear seems a bit more reluctant (not to mention a bit clumsier when it comes to climbing in). Soon the little truck is humming its way around the main circle road toward the Museum.

"Are you lost?" asks the Yangae man pleasantly in his native tongue.

"She's troubled," cuts in one of the Hergoth women, also in Yangae. "She's searching for something!"

"Well, isn't that why people usually come up here?" asks the Yangae man. "To search for something? The thing is you never quite know what you're gonna find! Bet you didn't expect this lot to come your way!" Then he laughs out loud. The two Hergoth women join him, uttering the low wail that serves as the Hergoth equivalent of a laugh. Then the man says, "So tell us, what's your story, anyway?"