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"Actually Anja, it does appear to me that you do have a tail bulging out your rear armor. I do not like this place. Are we sure there is not magic at work here? A set foe, I can handle, illusions and mind games are not my strong suit."
"Well, you can handle the door. It's effing locked, and as mad as this place is starting to make me, I ain't quite ready to start kicking down doors."
"Please start kicking down doors, Anja! I wanna get out of this place!" Terry's fighting down panic.
Shan-yu is taking a minute... Two minutes... Three minutes...
"Ah, screw this! Stand aside and get yer bow ready!" Anja steps back to kick the door in, but then she stops. She steps forward and knocks.
The doors click open, and you can hear a very angry "WHOTHERE?" being shouted from inside, the volume can be compared to a volcano erupting!
Anja braces herself against the buffeting shout from within. She gives a look to Valeeran as if to say, 'your turn,' and sheathes her longsword.
There is an ominous silence within, followed by the sound of steam being released through valves and boiling water.
You can feel the heat coming through the doors.
"What's up with all of you?"[i] Skitter asks. [i]"Terry's scared of his own shadow, Shan-yu is seeing things and you're overly concerned about wax figures you wanted to melt five minutes ago."
"I...well..I don't know but I don't much care for the thought of them being harmed now. I suppose that is odd isn't it. " The elf prattles on a bit more in some unknown language as he moves over to the wax model Anja had been poking.
Distracted by his inspection of the wax model for damage, Valeeran is a bit thrown off by Angas cue.
"Oh..umm...hello. We were hoping to speak with Marzalee. You see we're travelers to this place and have heard amazing stories about the wax works. We couldn't help but stop and see such an interesting establishment. Also we're told Marzalee is a shepherd to all these fine storykin during the confusion of rebirth and so we were hoping we might meet and talk as we have a few questions about this land. Would it be ok if we came in?"
As he speaks his usual exuberance comes to the fore.
Terry just shrinks into a corner, trying to make himself smaller.
"Plus, we want her token?" Anja whispers out of the corner of her mouth.
You can hear some mumbling or talking going on inside for about 15 seconds.
Then, the strong voice bellows again.
"You were NOT invited! You are NOT our guests! How dare YOU enter our inner most sanctum! Be gone, thieves and hagglers and worse!"
Again, some steam/fog comes rolling out through the openings in the door.
Louder now, Anja interjects, "You know what's worse than thieves and hagglers? Murderers. Whose blood stains those silk sheets in the room through here? Was that Sonorae?"
Terry inches forward, trying to keep out of sight.
An eerie silence comes from inside, only briefly broken by a multitude of quick steps taken by something heavy and strong, yet surprisingly you notice it "taps" the floor, unlike your normal foot touching the floor.
"Sounds like a insect....a large insect. Perhaps it's best we not let it prepare too long. Anja the door if you would?"
"Oh and this may help." Valeeran makes a few gestures, and speaks some alien, oddly paced words before reaching over and touching Anja on the shoulder.
Noting that Terry is trying to make him self disappear into a wall he asks, "What is it Terry?"
Terry's mouth is compressed into a hard, worried line. "Don't like this place..." he mutters.
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"An insect? 'The Weaver'... a spider, maybe?" She pulls out her ranseur. She opens the door a crack, and then steps back to the side. She uses the long ranseur to push the door open.
When the door is pushed open, the steam and fog from inside the room comes rolling out. You can (eventually) see about 20 feet inside, but not much more.
"I am not a spider!" something shouts out harshly.
"Well I shall certainly take your word for that as who could know you better then yourself? We intended no insult and I hope you can forgive any you might have perceived. As we have not yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance our imaginations perhaps traveled paths without merit, chasing after steam and echos as it were. So then are you the famous Marzalee that we've heard heard grand tales of then?"
An angry roared "YES!" is followed by a "Yes, I am." in a slightly calmer tone.
"Well, can we talk to the quieter, calmer Marzalee? We're really just here for Sonnorae's token. We don't really need to swap stories, we don't really care where y'all murdered her, we don't really care if you're a spider, a roach, an ant or a ladybug. We've collected three tokens without having to hurt anybody. If you let your reasonable half consider this for a moment, we can be out of this place without shedding any wax."
Terry finds some of his courage again. "Yeah! And..." he trails off when everyone turns to him expectantly, waiting for him to finish...then goes quiet again, his face blushing a brilliant red.
"Come in then, if you must. But be wary, if you are here to harm me or mine, my wrath will be swift!"
Anja leads the way into the next room. She returns the ransuer to her harness, but draws her light shield.
Noxious fumes, emanating from four enormous vats of molten wax, roil through this vast workshop. Tools and half-finished mannequins crowd the floor and hang from the ceiling, while tables hold squirming, undulating worms the size of a man’s arm.
You notice an extremely large ant standing in the middle of the room, with a smaller (halfling sized) woman standing next to her. She is eyeing you with a ferocious look in her eyes, like a bear mother protecting her cubs.
"SPEAK!" she shouts, even as the smaller woman tries to "hold her back" by mumbling and caressing the ant's back.
Terry covers his mouth and nose with his pocket handkerchief, concealing his disgusted expression as he walks past the wormy squirmy tables. He glances around for any signs of Sonnorae's token...
"So... are the storykin made of ant babies or wax? And why do they call you 'the Weaver' since you're obviously not a spider?"
Yeah, no, letting Anja do her talking for this one. Terry's just in back, nervously wringing his hands. He hates bugs.
Valeeran enters the room, moving to Anjas flank. His eyes fly about the room taking in the variety of marvelous sights.
"Facinating." he mumbles.
During his mental cataloging Anja takes the initiative and begins questioning the grumpy creature so he holds his tongue and waits to see how things play out. A half dozen arcane spells flow through his mind as he prepares himself for what may come.
"So... are the storykin made of ant babies or wax? And why do they call you 'the Weaver' since you're obviously not a spider?"
The giant ant turns its head, its mandibles clicking the chitinous legs moving in strange patterns as it speaks:
"The process is a long and strange one. My children are made of wax when they come out, but are also alive. When I melt them, I can transform them into whichever creature has fallen, and bring it back to this Haunted Realm."
Its head turns around, and you can hear something of sadness in her words.
The smaller woman then speaks, while she is petting the large one's tummy.
"She is called the Weaver for she creates the creatures that inhabit the world. She weaves them back into being, so they are never lost and this world is never found empty."
Terry's eyes widen as he listens, and he covers his mouth with his hand as he thinks hard. "She's...some sort of Creator? Power over the dead? This is unnatural..."
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"That is amazing. When they are born are they already the fallen creature or do they not become such until you weave them back into being? If so what of that which was born? What happens if you don't melt them? How do you know who needs rebirth? Do they remember their past life or do they start anew? I apologies, I'm sure many of these questions are quite personal but I have never heard of such a marvel."
Marzalee in like an old voice, cracking and perhaps a slight accent:
"They are born when they die. Is difficult to explain."
The smaller woman
"Her belly tells her when it is time to give birth, just like any other woman I guess. She knows, and I hep deliver the baby onto this world, just like I have done since forever."
Marzalee:
"If they don't melt, they have no purpose. But they only come when they have purpose. Why would *you* not want to eat, when you are hungry? Would you die?"
The smaller woman:
"They remember very little, at least as long as they are in this house. When we release them, they remember where they need to be, and will travel there as fast as possible, to fulfil their fate.
*sigh*
Even if that means they are fated to be eaten, or commit suicide."
Marzalee:
"I make them, they are who they are. Is like... You are men, you know not the miracle of birth!"
--
An idea occurs to the elf, "I see. So you are a part of each beings reoccurring destiny in this place. We have, unfortunately, been forced into some altercations during our time here in which we may have sent some storykin to be reborn. Has this in fact happened or has our intervention broken that fate?"
"If you'll pardon a perhaps more touchy question, we have been told you were involved in the death of the creator of this place. If you have always been the conduit for rebirth here and remain so after her death what drove you to take part in the conspiracy? Has her death achieved your goal?"
"We were told you don't bring storykin back - you just make it more comfortable while they regenerate or something. It sure sounds like you bring them back. And why do you consider them your children when Sonorrae created this world? In our world, people think their children carry a part of them - to carry on their legacy. But your children carry part of Sonorrae, her legacy. You don't actually get to have children of your own, really. That's kinda sad, considering what a caring foster mother you are. If you had your own, they'd've been pretty lucky."
Anja pulls a card out of her pocket that she'd been fingering during her monologue. The Queen Mother.
Terry can't put his finger on why, maybe it was just a mistrust of bugs, but he felt he was being lied to. Something wasn't right. He pulls out a card, and glances at it - it verifies his suspicions. The Hidden Truth.
---
"I see. So you are a part of each beings reoccurring destiny in this place. We have, unfortunately, been forced into some altercations during our time here in which we may have sent some storykin to be reborn. Has this in fact happened or has our intervention broken that fate?"
>> The giant ant speaks with a rumbling voice:
"I know not. They come when they need to, they have no other choice. If you have slain one of my children, they will be reborn and begin their life anew.."---
"If you'll pardon a perhaps more touchy question, we have been told you were involved in the death of the creator of this place. If you have always been the conduit for rebirth here and remain so after her death what drove you to take part in the conspiracy? Has her death achieved your goal?"
>> The giant ant remains very silent, and stares into space with blank eyes.
>> The smaller woman responds, in a very hushed tone."You have made her cry. Shouldn't have done that...
She.. She has taken upon her the role that Sonorae used to perform, as penance for the vile act she participated in. She didn't understand the circle of life before, but she does now."
---
"We were told you don't bring storykin back - you just make it more comfortable while they regenerate or something. It sure sounds like you bring them back. And why do you consider them your children when Sonorrae created this world?
In our world, people think their children carry a part of them - to carry on their legacy. But your children carry part of Sonorrae, her legacy. You don't actually get to have children of your own, really. That's kinda sad, considering what a caring foster mother you are. If you had your own, they'd've been pretty lucky."
>> You notice that the staring continues.
>> The smaller woman once again answers: "They are *her* children, for she gives birth to them. Her bed is soaked in birthing fluids and blood, and she doesn't care anymore about wahsing the sheets. Please stop making her cry.." she continues as she speaks to the giant ant with comforting sounds.
"I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that we take no pleasure in bringing past pain back to light. However perhaps we might leave a bit of hope as well. It is our intent to undo what was done in the past and to that end we are collecting Sonoraes tokens. You are not alone in your regret for her loss and many of your fellows have granted us the tokens they had. Perhaps you will also place your faith in us and aid us in this effort?"
The blank stare continues.
The smaller woman says "You have my support, but I have not what you seek. I'm sorry."