[Game Thread] Chapter Five: Everything Changes

[Makenshi]

[SpatulaOdoom]

Morgan frowns. Eyes flicker behind closed lids.
"Deeper." He mumbles.

[Blue]

Nevh watches in silence.
Waiting.

She could only guess who he was speaking to, if not himself.
Not that it really mattered. She'd wait some more until he could update everyone with the results of this interruption.

[SpatulaOdoom]

The silence continues to stretch out.
Morgan pops open one eye, squinting down at the gem as if it's betrayed him.
Don't crap out on me now.
Wouldn't that be embarrassing, all that buildup for nothing. Then again a Seer's abilities were hardly predictable, and Morgans moreso than some. No, there was still something there, he can feel it. Strongly.
"Duno how long ths'll take." Morgan's voice is slurred and dreamlike. "Dun wait f'r me."

[Makenshi]

As Morgan's vision continues to unfold people can't help but watch, even Nehrahk, however anyone paying attention to the Children would soon notice that Rising was acting oddly too. He swayed slightly, almost as if drunk, swaying slightly as he sat on his haunchers, though by placing his hands on the floor he was able to keep himself steady. Grimacing as if in pain, his eyes remained open, staring at those around him. Darting seemingly at random. Eventually he settles upon the hosts, where his eyes remain for longer than any other before the grimace intensifies and he finally closes his eyes before crying out in pain. "AAAAAAAARGH!" But his was not the only pain-filled cry.

~MTWC

[Blue]

Nevh had hoped they could proceed through the meeting but everyone seemed to prefer watching for possible seer seizures or some grand revelation.

Rising getting one of his own was a surprise, so she quickly turned to watch Kala and the other seers present, half expecting some kind of chain-reaction to occur.
Nothing special going on over there, she looked back at the more excited of the two.
What he was saying between gasps made little sense to her and it was frustrating to think that it probably should.
There weren't many fives that came to her on the moment. Five potential Elders... Kala's enemies in that 5th vision were six, though maybe five of them were babes of Zera. Maybe the others had more relevant associations.
"He said something about five babes being born to do what one did before. Any idea what he might be talking about?"
Odds were Rising himself had no idea, but who knew, couldn't hurt to ask. Or could it?

[SpatulaOdoom]

Seconds after his muttered comment Morgan's head droops down, nearly touching the tabletop. His breathing starts off slow and deep but gradually becomes shorter and harsher, sucked between teeth as his brows draw together in a grimace of pain. He tries to say something, but it comes out as a bit of indecipherable whispered mush.

Rising's cry is echoed by a second ragged shout that comes from Morgan himself, who snatches his hand away from the gem so quickly it is set to spinning and dancing on the marble tabletop. It winks in the light and skitters towards the edge but is stopped by the paw of Mortimer as the cat pounces on the gem before it can fall to the floor.

For his part Morgan holds his head in his hands and clenches his teeth at the searing spear of pain lancing him between the eyes. "Mother #$^&# ^@#$ *#$%&. #$^&@$) -" The string of curses flowing from the from the mage is impressive both in a vocabulary thrown together from several languages, and in a sort of sluggish vicious crudity that would make a veteran dockworker blush. "Yep. That was a bad idea."

Blood forms rings around his nostrils and begin to slowly drip to the tabletop. When one drop hits his wrist Morgan notices and fishes out a handkerchief with a shaking hand to pinch his nose. After a moment he squints in the light and carefully wipes up the fed drops on the tabletop, no sense leaving that sort of thing lying around.

It was like the worst hangover he could remember. Then again they all felt like the worst when they were happening. Plus most hangovers didn't leave you feeling like your limbs were made of salt water taffy, taffy that belonged to someone else. Nor did they usually leave his ears ringing. He fumbles a silver flask from his belt and after a couple of tries gets the cap off. The whiskey hits his tongue, smoky and sharp as it ever is, and he tries to follow the sensations the rest of the way to the here and now.

He peeks out between his fingers, seeming to remember that he's surrounded by many of the worlds most powerful and influential people.
"Right. Ogkay. Abologize for dhe laguage."
He gathers his thoughts for a moment before unpinching his nose so he can at least speak normally.
"Right. Deimos. He kind of sort of likes Inanna and Acedia, dismisses Ira. Hates or distrusts everyone else. Especially hates Asharte, but I didn't get a feeling for exactly why.
He's trying to convince Inanna, I think, of something, making a deal or alliance. Can anyone show me a proper image of her so I can be sure it's her he was taking to?"
With Rising's help they confirm that it was indeed Inanna. Morgan takes another sip from his flask and daubs at his nose. His hands have stopped shaking and his voice grows a little stronger.
"The drow he captured was sent to spy on Sharak and he thinks the Drow have some big secret plan. He thinks they're responsible for the release of the fiends five years ago."
Lolth. Yes Asharte's former lover. Would the drow settle for being second banana to the fiends? Maybe.
"That was the first half. That was easy. The second half of the vision was a little harder to understand. All images, no emotions or... I don't know, sometimes I just get a feel for it, on this one it was just two heartbeats feeding off each other. I saw the Drow getting ready to sacrifice Dea. Deimos trying to take them on himself. Then I see Drow kneeling at the feet of some fiendish woman. Deimos does a lot of damage, but things go bad and he winds up dominated or maybe... Poisoned, first? It comes in pieces. Anyway, He winds up killing his daughter, not sure why, maybe he needs the extra power he can get from a godling, maybe because he's already dominated by that point. She's surprised by it, looks betrayed. I see a drow woman I'm going to assume is Lolth. It seems she's the one who beats him."
He frowns and reaches into his pack for a scroll of Minor image. Without any emotional impression and no sensations beyond the thumping and the moving images, it would be better to simply show them.

The scroll is read and creates five distinct images. Still as if impossibly realistic paintings.
-A horned woman, Dea, chained to an Alter surrounded by Drow, a dagger hovering over her.
-Drow kneeling at the feet of a beautiful woman. Dead drow, shrivelled up like dried fruits as if they had been sucked dry. Drow stripping their own dead for their magic items. Drow staring blankly at the chaos and death around them.
-Drow males butchering the women with feral looks on their faces. Brother killing sister and lover killing lover. All the while, the mighty looked out calmly.
-Deimos thrusting a hand through the chest of a Tiefling woman (Dea) with a look of shock and betrayal on her face.
-Deimos crumpled at his knees in a field of death, writhing in agony as a Drow woman wearing some kind of strange silken armour grabs a hold of his head with a look of intense concentration on his face.

[Blue]

Perhaps it would be a good idea to warn Deimos to stop him from doing whatever he would do. Losing an enemy to face an empowered version of another could be a losing gamble.

It wasn't easy to try and take guesses at what the vision meant. She hadn't experienced it and had little actual experience in the exercise. Still, she tried to make sense of it by logic, if anything. History was usually a logical succession of events. The pattern was easier to tell when looking back than looking forward but it worked sometimes, anyway.
"The drows having a hand in the provocation of the Troubles is something we already suspected ourselves. It makes sense. What exactly Dea is doing on some drow sacrificial altar is something that might be interesting to learn. Dea being sacrificed might be part of what Zera wants to have happen down there. I've a few thoughts on the fiendish woman, that she could beat Deimos is a strong hint. If that woman is the one looking surprised by Deimos killing his daughter instead of the daughter being the surprised one, then he probably killed her so that they wouldn't be able to sacrifice her for whatever reason they want to."

She frowns, thinking.
"Though in that case she'd probably just sacrifice Deimos. Since he might be at her mercy then. Either way, it fits with them being linked to the Troubles. The entire ritual might be part of the process of triggering a second breach such as the one five years ago. Deimos being there as their enemy also works considering the aversion he expressed earlier toward the idea of fiends not enjoying being controlled. If she dominates Him, it gives an image of how deep and powerful that control could be."

Perhaps Didina had something on that possible alliance... though what caught her attention then were the illusions.
She couldn't make out who the drows represented. Logical, considering how many drows she knew.
Maybe they all just looked the same to her but they felt awfully generic. Perhaps the scene was the important point and not its actors.
"Could mean that the drows are puppets of Ciin, maybe? ...all the lakarns of Ciin are depicted there, it seems. If that is the case there may be drows with strong connections to fiends. Fiendish drows or otherwise allies to them in manner similar to Sharak. Perhaps a drow could be questioned on that matter."

[SpatulaOdoom]

"Could be. I noted the five Lakarn traits too." He squints. "Who told you Dea left Kerberos's group?"
Morgan spends a few moments mulling it over.
"My take is that they use Dea to lure Deimos into a trap. Ciin would be the one in the second image I think. I don't see him killed, or anything that indicates the intent. Power is nice and all but regardless of your relative levels you've only got two hands, so to speak. And while he's proven himself a clever and dangerous man, err god, Deimos isn't a very tractable minion or ally. Ss today showed he's just as willing to work against her as with. Deimos either kills Dea to harvest a little more power for the fight or because he's compelled to do it by Lolth in an attempt to "break" him." He frowns. "All of which might roll into a theory that I'm considering. That Ciin is the one who had Nero killed with a dagger. The whole thing being an internal power-play."

He glances at the hybrid. Scooping up the large gem he stands to hand it back to Nehrahk "Have you looked into what was behind all that? Did you ever find the succubus who did it?"

When Morgan sits back down and resumes cradling his splitting skull Mort looks at Nevh with his yellow slitted eyes.
"Who said something about five babies?"
Morgan squints at Mort. He's again pinching his nose in an attempt to cut off the nosebleed.
"Whad?"
"While you were still out of it from your mumbo jumbo the Ambassador said 'He said something about five babes being born to do what one did before. Any idea what he might be talking about?' I think she was talking bout that Rising fella. He had a reaction to your vision, but I didn't see him say nothing."
"I dod regognise id."

[Blue]

Nevh chuckled darkly.
"That'd make sense. Ciin rules over corruption and conversion, after all. She could be the one actually in charge of the drow pantheon. If Lolth is powerful enough, she might even slay her to grow stronger still. If she didn't do so already and is now posing as her."

When Morgan mentions the succubus, something stings at Nevh from the back of her skull. It is deeply annoying, like the feeling that she should know that one. The answer is on the edge but she just cannot seize it. She casts a piercing gaze forward, trying to fish it out from the depths of her memories, but in vain. The moment is lost.

The cat's question brought her back.
"Hm? Oh, Rising. Yes. Well, He didn't really say it, more like he was trying to. I'm pretty certain it's what he meant to say, still."

[Makenshi]

Kala puts a comforting hand on Morgan's back as it becomes obvious he is in more than a little discomfort. A warmth radiates from her touch, leaving his body feeling refreshed and pain free but for a ever so slight headache which he had never had any success at removing.

"Perhaps the who isn't important?" Breaker asks, throwing Rising a concerned look as the other Seer massages his temples with his eyes clamped shut in a grimace. "It could be the visions meant that the Seven would attack the Drow, or that they somehow control the Drow. Each of them can effect people within a great distance of them after all."

"That seems unlikely." Tiaan interjects. "Only two of the Seven are free by Fisali's Caveat. Still..." He glances at Morgan's images. "...it does lend extra worry to Deimos' claim that the Troubles was against their own will. We still don't know who was behind it."

"It wouldn't surprise me if Zera was involved. It certainly sowed more than a little chaos, and if he could do it or something like it again at just the right moment..." Malhas trails off, while the others look concerned at his words.

When asked about the Succubus that killed Nero Nehrahk nods. "She was among the first converts. I went back as far as I could and the dagger had changed hands quite a lot. Silice got it from a Sharakan noble who had it stolen from a Shalian noble, and so on and so forth. The furthest I could trace it back was a few centuries ago to a Fiendish cult that liked to let their own blood in devotion. It's just as well they only used the dagger for self letting and not sacrifices, otherwise you might have had a more...problematic Hybrid on your hands."

At the mention of Rising's words Breaker taps the seer's shoulder. Rising's eyes flutter in an apparent effort to open, as if he was looking at bright light. "Too bright." He mumbles. "Can't see. Can't hear. Give...give me a moment..."

Kala gives a roll of her eyes before making her way over to Rising. Rather than placing a hand on his back she touches her fore and middle finger to his forehead. Rising visibly relaxes and opens his eyes, albeit squinting slightly. "Thank you." Kala waves a dismissive hand before returning to her seat.

"You said something about five babes?" Breaker prompts.

"Mmmm?" Rising seems genuinely bemused for a moment. "Oh, yes. That was the only vision I had that I understood. I'll have to think further on the others."

There is a pregnant pause which Malhas interrupts impatiently. "And?"

Breaker gives him a sharp look while Rising doesn't seems bothered. "And it does not concern you, nor will it. My visions do not involve objects or places. Just people. Anything I see is because of someone I can see."

~MTWC

[Blue]

Nevh had no idea what to make of that discussion.
Most of what was being said had little meaning to her. Malhas apparently thought like her as far as the Troubles are concerned, but honestly she didn't trust him. Perhaps because he felt too similar to the creature she had become in Halva.
For now she'd have to wait.

[SpatulaOdoom]

Morgan sighs in relief as the worst of his headache disappears. He gives his nose a good hard blow to clear out the coppery smelling blood. Another handkerchief he'd need to burn. What was this, the fifth or sixth since this whole thing had begun?
He signs a quick thank you to Kala before turning his attention back to the others.
"At the moment all we've got is a little information and a lot of speculation, both in regards to the trouble five years ago and this new Deimos thing. We may get more to go on when this drow delegation shows up. For now though we may be running off in too many directions. What with all these-" His eyes slide to Shade. "-interruptions and uninvited guests."
Morgan takes another swig from his flask before putting it away. Time to get back on track.
"So let's slide back to before Deimoses, soulgems, shades of the past, and visions. Brigadier Varius asked why you should trust us. It's a very valid question. Halva has, in the time of our fathers, been somewhat less than a shining beacon of virtue. I could mention that the same can be said of just about every country and organization and religion, but that's not really important when we're talking about Halva. We could also tell you we're trustworthy until our collective face goes blue, but as I said to Deimos talk is cheap.

We understand that we're going to have to earn our trust.

Brigadier, earning that trust is why we have invited you all here today. It's why we're not only telling you about these things, the daggers and secrets and all that, but showing our work where at all possible. Providing proof.

We're doing this because the status quo is not working anymore."

It might have been doing so before, but times were ever changing and it was no-longer the case.

"We've figured how to work together as individuals, communities, and cities. Deimos seems to think that things like what happened with his daughter are actually the rule, but they're the exceptions. We've all got systems in place for the purpose of resolving conflicts and the abuses of the basic freedoms our ancestors won from the fiends. Sure they're not perfect, they can be abused in ways, and sometimes individual cases slip through the cracks, but they're a hell of a lot better than nothing."

Eloise Watson didn't do what she does because she believes the laws and enforcement Halva and other nations have are useless or wrong, but because she understood they're imperfect because they all live in an imperfect world. She was there to catch the things that inevitably fell through the cracks.

"But when it comes to the larger scale, the level of nations and gods and such, it's a giant free for all. Everyone decides on their way of doing things and goes off in their own direction. It's inevitable that we wind up working at cross purposes with each other. Nation versus paragon, versus demigod, versus Savior, versus Sei. As nations and churches and such no-one save perhaps Fisali has the power to simply enforce their way of doing things, and even if they did we'd never collectively accept that freedom being taken from us. The end result is that we wind up with this massive stew of pointless conflict, secrecy, spontaneous temporary alliances, and blindness to the true issues.

While it was a one-off event the Ikran Treaties have proven that we can get together and agree on something. I want to suggest that you should all consider making meetings like this a regular event. Where nations can air their grievances, share information relevant to all, try for collective agreements, and generally keep everyone abrest of developments."
Morgan snorts.
"I'm not stupid enough to believe that it will suddenly solve all of our problems and everything will be bliss between nations. I expect that once the professional politicians get involved there will be a lot of wasted time and pontification. But I think it's a step in the right direction, and we have enough things that we can all work our way around to agreeing on to make it worthwhile idea."

Morgan had come up with Ahkea's UN!the idea when considering the position of the Sei in the greater scheme of things as well as the eternal conflict between Sharak and Shali. It seemed a simpler way of doing things than dispatching dozens of diplomats to send the same message to twenty different ways of doing things.

"Speaking of which we should probably get back to discussing the daggers. One hybrid stands before you, another is in the hands of Zera, one dagger is in the hands of a Halvan, one is unidentified, and the last is in someone else's hands. That person has the choice to step forward and be counted, but that's that person's choice."
Morgan pauses, consciously keeping his eyes on the center of the table so that they don't flick towards Princess Aldamil. This was her chance to earn a little trust and good will herself.

[Makenshi]

"Morgan is right." Nehrahk continues. "With two of the daggers found you face important decisions, and that is why I am here. With Yostrah's hybrid under Zera's influence I am the closest thing you have to a neutral expert on those daggers."

"You...don't intend to demand the daggers? To use them yourself?" Aldamil asks hesitantly.

Nehrahk shakes his head. "No, though I would point out that, assuming you can trust me, I am likely the safest person to hold the daggers. If the Blue Woman comes for those who currently have them then it is unlikely they will be able to stand up to her if she is anything like me."

Jester frowns. "You're so sure of your own strength?"

"Yes. The first thing you should know about the Elder Demons is that they were not Demons. That is a name mortals gave them because they created the Fiends. The Fiends know them as the Old Ones. Whatever you call them were not beings like anything you can comprehend, they were...forces. Ashtarte imprisoned their 'body' (if a force can have a body), locked their consciousness into the daggers and attempted to steal their power for herself. She was successful on the first two counts, even if the daggers did not work as she intended. As for the third, she was able to siphon of a fraction of their power. The barest of fractions in fact. And so she became the first 'God' of Aheka. Others did the same, and thus the Fiendish Pantheon was born."

He looks around the room. "Do you understand? I am not a God. I do not grant spells or answer prayers. I am a force of nature forced into a physical form. I have tried to kill myself more times and in more ways than I have time to explain and even Malvain's ability to heal pales in comparison to mine. Reduce me to a skeleton and my body will revert to its original state in moments without any noticable effect to my ability to function. I do not reincarnate. I do not need time to come back from life or heal from wounds. Even the oldest of Dragons - those capable of matching Gods in terms of physical strength - would have difficult matching mine, to say nothing of the magic I find myself capable of or my ability with Fiends. In short, I am as different to Gods as they are from mortals, if not more so."

He gives a weary sigh. "I do not say this as a threat. I simply wish to impress upon you the danger that this Blue Woman poses. That Zera has kept her tightly leashed does not mean she is incapable, just that he has not decided to let her reveal her power yet, and I will soon find myself at war with the Fiendish pantheon. You will not be able to rely on me to come to your aid if she should attack. In truth, your main concern should be what to do with the daggers. Until all five daggers are loosed the 'body' of the Old Ones - the source of all magic - will continue to grow unstable. It is not noticeable now, but it will eventually cause all magic to go wild and considering that this very cosmos was created by magic that could mean that it itself will unravel in enough time." At the shocked look of that statement Nehrahk holds up a hand. "The latter is not known though, and even if it does happen, I do not expect it will happen soon. Only recently has anyone noticed the imbalance, 16 years after I first upset it. If anything, the Blue Woman has slowed its progress rather than accelerate it."

~MTWC

[SpatulaOdoom]

Morgan continues the thread.
"Think of trying to kill an Elder Demon the way you'd kill a person or a god as something akin to trying to push your way through a wall of force. You can't. It's not a matter of not being strong enough to push through, but a matter of your strength being irrelevant to the situation. Killing an elder demon isn't something you can do because they're not living beings in the same sense you or I are. You might as well try to kill the color blue or beat gravity over the head with a hammer.

For now the only advice I have for dealing with the Blue lady should you encounter her is to run or entrap her somehow, and even that is only a temporary measure. Even if she doesn't overpower you she'll outlast you."

Morgan frowns at the group. This many influential people and all they did was sit there and listen.
"So. Anyone got any suggestions on how to deal with the dagger we do have?"