[dice=Cast a Spell]2d6+2
I'm going to use a pool of pure water to cast Visions Through Time about the messages in the house and the potential savagery that can be released into the world.
You can cast that?
Sheridan
You get a few packages, one for the silversmith, a few orders from Jericho to the Ghostmoor militia, and a few letters to relatives there. your games interest the guards, and Natria.
Conwall
Your sullen nature draws Natria's attention. she rides alongside you the second day of the journey Are you a part of the diaspora, or are you out here on a mission? She asks you. What do you do?
Tom
A blood drenched altar strikes at the heavens. power beyond their ken. A spire burrows into a cavern of brimstone the walls are being breached. The sun is struck down The Fallen shall rise. The sun and path both sundered The brothers destroy themselves. A forest, tall enough to touch the clouds, and vast enough to house a nation, burns with purple flames A futile effort. A horde of pale creatures bursts forth from the mountains, a hundred million strong Vengance at last
The spells end, but the visions still play in your head, the cryptic phrase repeating. What do you do?
I decide to turn Natria's question back on her. I do not represent the elves in these matters. You know a lot of our ways for someone born outside the forest. Which parent was Elven?
After the vision, Tom writes down what runs through his head in his journal. He remains silent for most of that day and the next trying to puzzle what any of that could mean.
Conwall, if you have a moment. I had a vision of a forest whose trees extended high enough t' touch the clouds - and that was massive enough that a whole country could reside in the trees there. I have never heard of such a place, but I wondered if you would know of any place like that.
I smile with familiarity, the description of the Great Forest flooding my memory with gleeful days bounding from tree to tree, scaling the Skyforge to build Catastrophe and bravely scouting the endless dark of Root City.
You're describing my homeland. You're a caster of some power, Sir Tom. You're one of very few humans to ever see the Great Forest, even magically.
As they ride, Belym pulls her pony up alongside Roach. " Ron, do you think we should try using that stone Selwyn had to spy on the cult? The sage seemed to think we should be able to control what it shows us."
I smile with familiarity, the description of the Great Forest flooding my memory with gleeful days bounding from tree to tree, scaling the Skyforge to build Catastrophe and bravely scouting the endless dark of Root City.
You're describing my homeland. You're a caster of some power, Sir Tom. You're one of very few humans to ever see the Great Forest, even magically.
Unrelated, have you ever seen purple fire? Tom questions whether he should mention the full vision yet.
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I'm not much for book learning, but I may have heard something about purple flames, especially if it's related to my hated foes.
Conwall
Natria seems relieved to learn that youare an exile. My mother was an elf, she stayed with me for several years, before moving on. I learned that she was murdered by her kin, some years later She says bitterly Are you exiled by choice, or by force?
Belym
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I politely pause my conversation with Natria. Tom's question has unnerved me.
Purple flame is a sign of Asmodeans, what your kind call Devils. What did your vision show?
Asmodeans...? You mention that name at he farm too. What exactly is an Asmodean? I thought it was a deity, but is it something else? Tom says hoping to dodge further questions about his vision.
As they ride, Belym pulls her pony up alongside Roach. " Ron, do you think we should try using that stone Selwyn had to spy on the cult? The sage seemed to think we should be able to control what it shows us."
I fear that orb is a thing of great demonic power. Perhaps we should entrust it to a man of faith. He gestures to where Conwall and Tom are riding together.
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They're demons, Tom. From another plane. The Wargs, the Shade, the things we fought at the keep. All of them. You're deflecting.
I turn to him, my eyes steel. WHAT. DID. YOU. SEE?
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"-turns out it was his wife th' whole time. No kidding. So if yer ever havin' trouble with boy-girl relations, just thank yer stars ye weren't born merfolk." Sheridan is just finishing a pick-up game of trail polo, bundling the wooden slats that have been cut as much for the night's kindling as for practice weapons. The Traveler doesn't really know the name of the soldier on the recieving end of the banter, but it's getting easier to tell him apart from Ron, Tom, and the other human males.
"Conwall‽ Conwall, are the fey folk taken ter fits of monogamy? 'ave ye a were- or wife as it may be? I was just talking ter this one 'bout spawning circles, an' it just got me curious."
I'm locked in a fiery conversation with Iron Tom, oblivious to both Sheridan and Natria. If the Great Forrest is burning I have to do something urgently to save as many lives as possible.
If these are visions from the future, there's a much tougher conundrum to face and I may have to decide between sacrificing two sets of innocent lives...
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Tom has been caught and says, I do not wish t' say yet, and I certainly don't wish you running into the wild based off my vision alone. Our fates are bound t' a deep and dark pool we must delve the depths of - and no man can wade into those waters alone. Diving requires preparation, the proper equipment, and a crew that trusts each other deeply. Anything else means death.
Tom's eyes narrow a bit, I could never survive that farm with anyone less capable than you, and you would not have been able t' defeat that harbinger without me. The path has been laid before us more clear than ever, but unless I can trust you t' not run into the wild on a fool's errand, I cannot share my vision.
Belym, having fallen back towards Conwall and Tom, interjects into their conversation. "I may have a suggestion. We found this" she holds out the stone, " Among Selwyn's possessions. The sage in Norwhich said it can be used to scry on distant places. Tom, do you think it safe enough to use? Conwall, if Tom thinks this is safe, you could use this to gaze on your home."
Sheridan continues talking even though no one's listening. "S' just that yer folk have such incredibly long lives, is all. F' ye'd take every Merfolk I'd ever known an' put their lives end ter end, I'll bet ye've already outlived every one. Wouldn'a thought--s'pecially if y'all breed proportionally to yer lifespans--trust me, I get a pretty good instinct fer these things--that a race with such a perspective would be prone to such brash and petty fidelities an' short-sighted risk-taking."
Once done, the Traveler stuffs the slats into one of TAM's cubbies. Once in an upright position, Sheridan's eyes lock on the small stone. "Ooh... Shiny."
I won't do anything rash...more lives hang in the balance than you imagine...but I need to knywhst you saw, and what it means.
I look to Belym. Id sooner burn the forest myself than turn a Devil's Eye stone on my home. You'd be better to smash that thing under a boulder than use it again.
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That is an odd question, Belym. Why wouldn't it be safe? Where did it come from? Devil's eye?
To turns to Sheridan, I really don't want t' picture how merfolk and land-folk would mate. Don't your people sort of... you know... pump and run? The others I have met act like teenagers with no parents when it comes to partners - and your propagation is prolific with the number of hatched eggs.
" I've no idea where Selwyn got such a thing. As for its safety..." Belym describes the vision she and Ron shared of the kraken-whales..."... And so we were concerned about what drives the visions. The sage didn't seem to think there was anything wrong, but Ron is still worried."
Worried, certainly, but I did not sense anything demonic about that stone. Those ... Kraken-whales, as ye put it, remind me of an old tale told far to the north. They say ...
"Kraken... wales?" Sheridan still has eyes locked on the gem. "Really dunno if I have th' words ter explain how that's not a thing."
"Kraken... wales?" Sheridan still has eyes locked on the gem. "Really dunno if I have th' words ter explain how that's not a thing."
Tom takes the orb and gazes into it, So you just think about what ye want t' see... and ye see it?
Before he looks into it, I gently and nonthreatteningly take his hand.
Tom, think of what you do. You're strongly going against not only my wishes, but the strong beliefs of the Elves. If things go...the way I fear they might...your actions here may reflect poorly upon you. I won't be able to protect you.
Belym & Ron
you have vague recollections of these creatures, tyrants at the edge of myths, mind-drinkers, blasphemers against the gods. imprisoned forever, for the mortal races sake. but you can't get the name, until Ron speaks it, an old name from old tales. Aboleths.
what do you do?
Button yer butt-flap, Conwall. Not everything that is done is done with you in mind. I may have seen your forest through water purified with Iisac's blessing, but thanks to you I know what that portion of my vision has revealed to me, Tom pulls his arm back, With this I can try and find information about something not as easily vocalized as 'big trees.'
As long as you keep your eyes from the Great Forest, I have no say...
At mention of the Aboleths, Sheridan's mouth snaps shut. All interest in the stone is lost, and the Traveler gets busy securing straps and hatches on TAM's shell. Absently, Sheridan peeks in on the package from the silversmith, plucking at the twine that holds the waxed parchment around the parcel. The twine makes a satisfying thrumming. It's not the Merfolk's intention to open the package, although she's been dying to see what's inside.
Damn straight, Conwall... wait, Ron, did you say Aboleths? Like those ones that are like lampreys for the soul? Sheridan, aren't those the ones that... Wait, where did Sheridan go? Tom frowns in the chaos of this conversation; speaking to himself, First thing first.
Tom states into the orb, cradling it in his hands. He peers into its depths and thinks about the crew he continues to run from. Trying to make sure they have moved on with their lives.
As an intelligent race of the deep, and one worth mention if they've ever been seen, Sheridan knows at least as much about Aboleths as most skyfolk know about Dragons, or, maybe more accurately, what denizens of the deep caves might know of Illithids. They represent an antitheses to the Merfolk as they dominate their domains through fear and force of psychic will. They're also probably closely associated with Merfolk by the land-bound races, sometimes to the point of mistaking them as one class of people or one race like the various elven races. It's not hard to imagine people thinking Merfolk mature into Aboleths, if you're not familiar with how an axolotl differs from a hagfish.
Ron sees Sheridan withdraw at his mention of the Aboleths and he separates from the rest of the group to follow her. You know something of these creatures?
He then describes the vision he received from the farsight stone to Sheridan in more detail.
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Tom
You peer into the stone, and your gaze widens, travelling the many miles to the coast. you see your old captain, a hard man, with a collection of scars worth the entirety of Norwich's. he is burning some building down, and holding a familiar man to the wall
Where is Tom he tells the man. and the location clicks. your former crew is buring the Abbey (Temple?) where you became a follower of Iisac. The man, the head preist, tells him He went north, n a pilgrimage. He is no longer here. The captain plunges the knife into his throat, and gestures to two men you can't see The traitor's gone north, finish up here
Your mind returns to your body. what do you do?
Sheridan
You remember stories, tales of the mind-drinkers. you know that they were a threat to the whole world. you know they ruled, or destroyed entire seas. you know that good heroes defeated them, and locked them away somewhere dark and cold, where they couldn't hurt anyone else. but your people still live in fear of their return. What do you do?
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Sheridan tries to avoid the conversation until the details of digging and the removal of barriers sinks in. "This is more than a few lost trees. A single Aboleth can dominate an entire sea. They're tyrants! Massive, sludge-sucking tyrants. If they've banded together in a pod- and with sorcery strong enough to so much as crack what's got them sealed, it'll be you carting around yer friends and acquaintances from reef to reef, but it'll be to the beck and call of your local God-thing Aboleth."
The Merfolk vacillates between rage and despair as she continues. Her language is slipping, but she grasps Ron's forearm so her sending can fill in for what her panic obfuscates. "It took everything what was ter be had ter put them down there! Some o' what helped haven't been around since the last cataclysm! Yer race is young, Ron. A child to the forces that rocked this plane in ages past, and honestly, I don't think yer a fair trade for what we've lost since." Some of the information comes as hollow images and emotions. Shadows of shadows fighting to subdue an undying host of tyranny. A world of monstrosities that is now in its death throes. "Yer people talk about points o' light in a field o' darkness, but the things that hide in th' dark aren't hiding from you." Sheridan is wringing her gills with her free hand, rubbing the lichen free in places and exposing the pink skin beneath. When she realizes what she's doing, she carefully tries to spread the slick plant material back into place, but it will have to grow back with time.
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Tom spikes the magical orb to the ground in a fit of rage, What good is this power t' learn s!&~ about s~*#, f@#%ing accursed visions making things worse than ignorance ever was! I'd rather be dafter than a bird than have another blasted vision! Tom breathes in and calms down, and picks back up the orb and sighs, Well maybe one more time...
And he goes to pick up he orb.
What Sheridan is describing is not unlike the ways of Asmodeans. Could they be connected? Are Aboleths just demons that prefer an aquatic environment?
What Sheridan is describing is not unlike the ways of Asmodeans. Could they be connected? Are Aboleths just demons that prefer an aquatic environment?
[dice=spout lore]2d6
The Aboleth are not demons, you remember as you search your memory. the elven warmasters you studied under did not devote a fraction of the time they spent on demons, tot he study of the Aboleth, but you know their history better than most all the same. They were one of the primal species. The primal species were each lord over one of the four alchemical elements. The Wyrms of the earth, the dragons, originally of fire, but who in their arrogance usurped the air from the drakes (Hence the confusion of the two). and The Aboleths of the water.
Each species was compelled to be lord over all. The Aboleths almost succeeded, until a group of gods, aiding the dragons and Wyrms, sealed them below the earth, never to return. but the dragons are all but dead, the Wyrms have long since disappeared, and are presumed extinct. they are the last of the primal lords. you know of their three captors, Pelnor, Mersiel, and Hebron. they are all that's left between the Aboleth, and the world.
Belym quickly looks around to determine if the Ghostmoore contingent has noticed their discussion, while listening to Sheridan and the others.
Belym quickly looks around to determine if the Ghostmoore contingent has noticed their discussion, while listening to Sheridan and the others.
The good news, the guards seem not to know what an Aboleth is, however, Natria clearly does, ans it looks like she is trying to get Conwall or Ron's attention. she seems worried. what do you do?