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He didn't know what to feel. He's seen death time and time again, often at his own hand. No doubt they had funerals just like this, family and friends gathered to bit them goodbye for the last time. The same applied here. But if that did, then why was Dave here? Why did he decide to attend? Was it strictly for the sake of appearance?
It'd been a thought on his mind months before he even died. Were they really only acquaintances, associates in business alone, like he first thought? He never experienced anything before that quite matched up to whatever this was. Joe was a useful contact. A seasoned investigator. Always did what was right. Always looking out for people he cared for.
What was Joey to him? He would never know now. The man was dead, and dirt covering him for seemingly ever. Why did he keep some of his hair? What did he hope to gain with the possibility of bringing him back? What would he even gain from that? Dave just didn't know how to feel. Anything. He never did. He never would. That was one of the first lessons his brother ingrained into him.
Why did his chest feel so tight?
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Pavel waits as the funeral progresses, watching the procession and listening to what people say. Where there is a time, Pavel stands and takes the pulpit.
I uh... I didn't know Joey for very long. And trust... trust is a big problem for me, I admit. But... Joey saved me, him and his friends. They found me and made sure that I made it to safety. In the few months that I knew him, I got to know him as a good person, someone who did things he thought were good in the pursuit of truth, be it dark or light. The world is less for his loss, for it means there's one less inquisitor to shed an unflinching light in the dark corners of the world. He chokes a little, his eyes glassy and wet from tears welling behind them. You who knew him longer will miss him more, but he made a strong impact on me during the short few months I knew him, and I shall hold the memory of this torchbearer with me as long as I live. Less ceremoniously than his approach, he retreats back to his seat near the back of the gathered mourners, back to the comfort of his Balalaika case, back to the comfort of being unwatched by the rest of the mourners.
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A few weeks after Joey's funeral, Dave awakes from a very potent dream. In the dream, Dave was walking in a forest, somewhere in Europe, maybe back in Serbia, when his brother Agni appeared to him.
"Dave, you have the solution. The knife. It will stop the end, but you need to use it correctly." Agni hands Dave the very knife they retrieved from the bottom of the dungeon in serbia. Dave begins to ask his brother what he means, but he feels a sudden pull, and awakens in a cold sweat in his apartment.
The temperature is unusually hot, and Dave gets up and walks across the floor to check the AC. It's set at a reasonable 76 degrees; for early November, that should be just fine. However, the unit is running on overdrive, and outside, the sun is blaring. The current inside temperature is 85 degrees.
Switching on the television, Dave sees the forecast. High today is 94, a full 20 degrees above average.
He stares at the screen for a little longer, before switching it off again. The dream was weird and cryptic, but he had to shake that off as just the lack of sleep he's been getting lately. It's been oddly difficult for some reason that he couldn't fully explain. The weather was unusual, but nothing he could really do there. Ignoring the blistering weather, he starts to get dressed in his typical ensemble.
Sure, the black clothing would be killer in this heat, but style's always more important. Probably. There wasn't much to get dressed for today, no cases, no jobs... There hasn't been anything to do since that funeral. He never realized how quiet things could be.
Picking up his phone, he hesitates. Did he even have a reason to call anyone? To, what, complain about the weather? talk about his nightmares? There wasn't really any reason at all, so he just left it there, and went back to the couch. And just sat there. Maybe something would come to mind later.
As Dave goes through his equipment, he finds something rather startling on several levels. The dagger that was retrieved in Serbia and given to the order, the one Agni just spoke of in his dream, is hanging among Dave's other weapons.
Okay, no, that can't be right. What the hell? No, really, what?
He finally has a reason to call someone, so he starts with the expert on these things, Isagoras. "Hey, Izzy, mind wanna telling me how that artifact we got found it's way into my apartment? 'Cause I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be halfway across the world."
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"Ahoy ahoy," Isagoras says into the jet-black receiver of the telephone-machine as it stays tied to it's rotor-dial box by a stout coiled cord.
"The devil are you on about man? The Dagger of the White Angel is secured securely in the Vault of Ancients, being studied by the High Council and subjected to the Spells of Sage-telling. It could no more be in your possession than could I be the Queen of Englan--hold the line a moment, a page has found me with an announcement apparently of some import.
Hmmmm...let's see....be aware all yon scholars of Fifth Circle and higher, the Dagger of the White Angel is no longer....
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Are you free for lunch?"
"Yeah. Where at, and do you want me to bring the magic teleporting blade or just leave it here."
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"I quite enjoy both the ambiance and the talapia at The Sweet Doomed Angel, on the corner of Washington and Washington.
Normally I'd say to leave the world-guarding artifact behind and secure, but since the thing has the whimsy of a twelve year old girl and can get out of the most well-guarded vault on the Material Plane, then by all means, slip it in your pocket and bring it along."
"Alright. I'll be there in half an hour. Bring anyone else you think should be there." He hangs up right then, without much room for response, and makes his way back to the weapons rack. Most of them have gone unused for sometime, even before he started to favor the odd sword with the mysterious past, and now he reaches for a blade he had never once touched.
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Isagoras puts down the far-crier machine and contemplates his next move. He dare not tell the High Mage, for he would only start a panic, and bring down enough attention on Dave that the poor man would surely be scared away.
Or perhaps, the dagger has a game of its own to play? Or perhaps there is some connection between it and those who found it?
Chasing a lark, Isagoras gets out his cell phone...
...
...then stares at it for ten minutes before flagging down a passing pacolyte to help him send out a group text to Pavel, Maria, and Valda:
>>>meeetng in 30 @ TSDA @ Wash n Wash. Come sooon<<<
Valda picked up the chirping phone and glanced the message with a small smile. She wondered if Isagoras had meant to include the spelling mistakes, but it was an interesting variation compared to how the man spoke. Still, she always half expected some kind of imp to fly his messages to her instead of getting a text, so she couldn't really complain.
Standing, she went over to the work bench and picked up the gun she had been adjusting with a grunt. The thing was heavy. It would also put a hole in low grade armour plating. Thankfully, she also had an extra-dimensional carrying space so she could lug the monster gun without attracting attention. The runes, softly glowing with ethereally light, that had been inscribed down the barrel tended to make people give her funny looks.
Having checked the weapon, she prepared to put it away, and remembered she hadn't got the belt on. Or pants. Or anything else, for that matter. Looking down at her bare legs, she muttered, "I should probably get dressed..."
Sighing, she went to find the armoured bike leathers she wore when the others called. They were hard wearing on normal clothes. Even if the leathers were ungodly hot in this weather.
~~~
Valda arrived at the Angel on the back of her bike, sighing as the wind from it's motion dropped off, and entered the eatery with the hopes of cold drinks and aircon. Maybe there was a spell she could design to function as a portable aircon...that was worth research, right? Maybe it was time to shave her head again...
Maria tells Jessica that she's heading out for lunch and to cancel her appointments today, then hops in her Cobra and heads to the TSDA to meet with the others.
She enters the diner, then heads over to the table where the others are.
"Hope this is important, I canceled my appointments for today." she says, sounding part joking and part serious.
Dave sees Isagoras already seated at a table when he arrives. On the television, a story about a recent outbreak of brush fires all around the Arzata area.
Valda walks in literally as the door is swinging closed behind Dave.
As Maria arrives, she notes a firetruck crossing up the street; the fourth one she's seen on the two mile drive to the restaurant.
Dave promptly takes a seat somewhere around the table, and waits for Maria, Valda, and Pavel to all finish arriving and setting up. The news on the TV was odd, and he glanced at the wizard to see if he showed any signs of concern himself.
"Despite rumours of me being unnaturally hot, this is not my fault," Valda said as she sat down, "Are we going to look into the heat? Is there a fire elemental? Can we kill summer? I want to kill summer. I haven't fitted aircon in my place yet."
Pavel was just unpacking a box when he received the text, and he grimaced upon seeing the sender. Damn Order lapdog... Probably wants to force some newfound "wisdom down our throats... He sighs and continues unpacking the box, in no real rush to get to the restaurant until he's good and ready, especially in this deplorable heat. He mumbles about government plots and weather machines, certain in his convictions that it's all a plot to keep everyone on the internet and spending money. The irony is lost on him as he pulls out his bulky, but well fashioned torc.
After checking to see that all the bits and bobs on the wonderful (and expensive) piece work as intended, he puts on his disguised breastplate, grabs his balalaika case and everything within, and steadies himself to enter the hellscape he finds himself in. If there was ever a time he missed Serbia... Though perhaps this meeting would end up being something more than the babbling of some old secret society nut.
"It's winter. Or it should be. Wasn't even this bad when I lived in Texas. The weather's not the issue though. Or it shouldn't be." He looks up, noticing when Pavel finally enters the restaurant and sits down. "I had a tag-along this morning. Someone short, slim, and really damn old. You might remember them, you were all there when we first met it."
Dave lifts part of jacket, jut enough so that everyone could see the handle of the bladed artifact.
Valda raised an eyebrow. "Just to make this clear, we have a no refund policy if the sold item magically teleports back to us, right? Because I'm not giving crap back." Still, she wracked her mind to try and find a reason why a magical dagger might show up unexpectedly.
When you first saw the knife, your examination of the weapon had revealed it to be a simple magic blade, but of course the nature of its entombment and the urgency of the mission, as well as the goods you were given in exchange for retrieving it, belied that analysis.
You, Isagoras and Pavel had basically concurred that there were many potential abilities locked within, but that the weapon merely needed to be activated by something. Magic item activation usually involves magic words, but it can be otherwise: situational, related to a specific person, etc. In short, you may have an item that was waiting for its proper time or the right person to wield it in order to reveal its true nature.
Alternately, with the company Dave keeps, it could just be someone ninja took the dagger back and sneaked into his room and left it there.
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Given that this is the first chance he's had to really try to process this latest development, Isagoras probes his vast stores of knowledge to try and glean past the illusion of this Reality to see if he can sense a pattern between the disappearance and reappearance of the Dagger, and the recent uncharacteristic weather patters.
He closes his eyes, blotting out the distractions of the arriving comrades, the firetrucks outside, and the annoying prattle of the struggling-actor waiter who is trying to up-sell the special of the day to a supposedly blind public in an effort to increase the level of his take-home pay simply by changing the nature of the item on the plate that he delivers.
In time he opens his eyes and says, "We must make a decision to inform the Order or not. I would council such a move, but since Dave is currently in possession of the item, 'twould be his will that seems to be the one of motive power. Perhaps there are patterns here that we must be aware of? Perhaps any of us might be the harpingers of things, and any change in our behavior would warrant it?
So, too, though we can not 'murder' summer, I support the hypothesis of paradoxical patterning of the weather patterns that might rate possible probing, though to what point and purpose I could not possibly begin to predict."
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Arcana reveals the same information already relayed to Valda.
As Isagoras ponders the ramifications of hidden knowledge (Occult), he thinks about the almost artifact-like nature of the dagger, and remembers the ritual casters of the Cult of Agni the group fought on their first meeting at the end of last year. While those weapons were not specifically similar to this one, it is quite possible that this dagger could have ritual importance. [I know that's cryptic for such a good roll, but I can't give you more ATM].
Pavels eyebrows shoot so high that there may be concerns of them flying off his head when the dagger is revealed, and he nearly jumps from his seat in surprise. He sits in stunned silence until Isagoras stops napping, and frowns at his suggestions. Personally, I am against telling the Order ANYTHING, let alone that their precious knife appeared in Dave's pocket. As you say, I believe it is Dave's choice, but my advice is to keep this from the Order at all costs. Who knows what sort of spying magic they may have put on your items as it is...
When a server passes by, Pavel inquires as to the possibility of getting a strong drink at this establishment, despite the obviously early hour. Times like these deserve something strong, no matter the time.
"Personally, I'd rather have nothing to do with this thing. I don't exactly agree with your shadow group all that much, but I'd rather this thing be behind a buncha magic walls then on my person where it could be stolen off my body." He says, promptly.
Valda shrugged. "I'm neutral in this. I don't see a particularly reason to keep it, but I don't see one for giving it back either. I mean, sure, someone can kill you in your sleep and take it from you, but the damned thing showed up - either it can teleport or someone else can get it whenever they choose. Either way, I suspect the thing is going to be a pain in the ass. I vote for whichever one makes it a pain in someone else's ass, whether that's keeping it or sending it back via crappy internet postal service."
"Would they really know why it just suddenly showed up here?" Maria asks.
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Isagoras shrugs. "Many things are known, and many things are unknown. Indeed, the 'how' may prove just as interesting as the 'why'. Forgive the irony, but we won't know what they do not know until we tell them what they do not know.
I would wager that they shall not try to part Dave with the dagger, at least not permanently. If the artifact has indeed pair-bonded with him, then any efforts to the contrary would be utterly futile.
In theory."
Isagoras finds contacting the Order is not as easy as it has been in the past. When he finally gets in touch with them two days later, they instruct him that there, is, in fact, another of their order in town who might be able to get some answers, as he is an expert on mystical artifacts.
Isagoras is a little nonplussed that the Order would send such a person without informing him, but they assure him that the person in question, one John Colangelo, was merely on vacation in the Southwest, and decided to swing by Arzata of his own accord, not on 'official business.'
The two days that passed have not seen any normalization of the unseasonable weather. If anything, it has gotten hotter, and wildfires are now more and more common. Communications have also been sketchy; it seems the fires are damaging wired lines and even internet trunks, causing intermittent loss of service to everything except cellular.
Since Dave is in possession of the dagger, Isagoras thinks it wise if he accompany him to the meet with Colangelo. The artificer might be able to get more information by examining any potential bond between Dave and the knife.
[ooc]So that everyone stays involved, I'm going to assume you all accompany them to the meet-up.[ooc]
From John Colangelo's hotel room in Hopi Beach, you can see the lake shore. You can also see several fires, and a general red haze across the area. Even though it's night, the outside temperature is over 90 degrees.
Colangelo has with him two students from the order. "Ah, Isagoras, I presume? I've heard good things. Which one of you has the artifact?"
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Isagoras takes the two days to try and research a modification to the Ray of Frost spell that does no damage. The most progress he's made is that he can the actual Ray of Frost spell close enough to someone that it misses, and provides a cooling breeze for a few moments.
Despite the 48 hour delay, his ego -still- remains ruffled at the irregular turn of events. He would think his central involvement to both the retrieval and the current holder of the Dagger would entitle him to a bit more Pomp and Circumstance...but he's still only 6th Circle, and not yet privy to the Greater Mysteries.
That two unannounced students now accompany this John Colangelo person only inflames Isagoras sense of indignation. "Yes, I am Isagoras, member of the Order of the White Angel, Magus Imperii of the 6th Circle, and called by some as The Light.
A moment, sir. I was not advised that two laymen would accompany you. Ceremony would dictate that they make introduction before entering the heart of the matter."
"My apologies, sir," Colangelo said. "I should have known a man of your quality would stand on ceremony. I am John Colangelo, Artificer of the 7th Circle. My companions are the initiates Mark Friedman and Jeffry Cook, both of Australia. My students both."
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Isagoras, mollified, nods curtly and continues. "Good morn to you all. This is Dave Wavaski, martial artist and Warrior of Shadow. He was involved in the retrieval of the The Dagger and it hath cloven unto him.
The others were also with us in the capture of the Dagger, and I have brought them along for reasons of mana-bonding and possible linkage of Ritual Arcana. I shall let them introduce themselves...."
"Valda Simmons," the tall woman said with a nod. She hated the heat. She hated the pure quantity of cherry scented products she was wearing so she didn't smell a jockstrap worn by the entire NFL.
She also didn't bother mentioning that she was capable of magic herself, or that she carried a gun that had originally been designed to punch through light tank armour. She didn't especially trust these people.
"Martial artist is one way of putting it." Dave really didn't know the specifics of his taught style, so as far as he knew, maybe it was actually some official sword form. Not that it mattered to him, it got te job done and that was it.
Pavel merely offers a grunt as way of introduction, clearly on guard around so many agents of The Order, looking like a coiled spring ready to launch at any moment. His hand nervously plays with the handle of his balalaika case during the time he remains in the room.
Maria doesn't say anything, just nods.
"Well, then, let's see if we can figure out what's going on with you and this artifact, shall we?" Colangelo looks at Dave, holding out his hand expectantly.
"Yeah." Dave complies with no trouble, holding the sheathed blade out for the man.
Maria glances at Isagoras when he sputters, then looks back to Colangelo.
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Rubbing her mouth to hide the smile as Isagoras' reaction, Valda waited to see what the man made of the whole thing. She was very diplomatic, and didn't ask what they could make using an E-bay scam.
Colangelo casts identify on the blade and examines it carefully. Once he is certain it is the item in question, he nods to Isagoras. "I'll need to retain it here for study, of course. Once we've determined if it's been bonded to the young man Dave, we'll figure out our next steps."
"Yeah, sure. How long is it gonna take."
"I'm sure we'll have an answer by tomorrow morning. These guys are my best students, and I never travel without my gear," Colangelo smiles reassuringly.
Valda briefly wondered if they should have put a mark on it so the thing could be found again in case the strange men did a runner, but it was a little late now. Besides, if they stole it, it wasn't their problem any more. "I don't suppose you gents have any idea why it's so ungodly hot, do you?"
"Global warming?" Maria says, half in jest.
"Yes, we thought that was curious, as well," Colangelo agreed. "Not being from the area, had no idea if that was normal or not. Couldn't tell you anything more than that, I'm afraid. Though if I find evidence that it's abnormal, I'll certainly let you know."
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Isagoras sputters more than a 1957 Edsel with a bad motivator. "B-b-b-b-but-but-but- this is...this...this is...highly, HIGHLY irregular! Irregular irregular!"
He contemplates demanding that he be allowed to sleep here for as long as it takes, but if the Dagger is acting like the fabled Coinspinner and trapsed out of the Halls of Relics like a three year old leaving his warm bed, then the mage, a believer in tough love, does not feel compelled to play babysitter.
In the end he just nods and leaves.