Again the lights go out and the curtains go down, you feel the tension of anticipation rising. The orchestra starts with a clash of cymbals and the roll of drums! There is a battle! The various players leaving trails of lighter or darker shadow essence to mark their allegiance. The stage is transformed into a distant land where under an angry sky two great hosts of men and horse clash with a sound like thunder!
A fell shadow swoops from height above and passes over the audience! The audience titter in delight an terror. In the creatures wake strange and terrible beasts rain unto the battle rending friend and foe alike. Too late the armies realize they have been tricked, and together they form a last stand to see down the shadow beasts. You unconsciously lean forward and the hero battles the last shadow daemon, the fight is as beautiful as it is intense. Their blows perfectly in time with the beat of the kettle drum.
The battle is so realistic you could almost swear that it was real, for each blow of the hero's shadows sword causes the daemon to flinch and roar leaking a trail of shadow stuff. Likewise each time the daemon rakes the hero he shudders in pain, with mist like shadow congealing into a pool at his feet.
Eventually it is over! The hero smote the head from the fell beast which dissolves into nothingness. But what woe is this? The beat in is last thrashings sinks a talon deep into the man and he falls. Our heroine is distraught, none of the priests can save him. Folly has brought their kingdom to it's knees, her lover dies in her arms. Tears of lighter shadow stream from her face. Arms out wide she beseeches the gods to striker her down so that she may be reunited with her love.
From over the audience a thunderclap and great pulse of darkness passes over. The gods have granted her wish and smote her down, the twisted fletchings of an arrow visible through her breast! The curtain descends and the crowd goes wild with adoration! Truly this production has been inspired, so dreamy, yet the attention to detail - it could almost be real...
You hear muffled gasps from behind the curtain.
You could have sworn some of the shadow stuff leaking from our tragic heroine was colored red.
There's nothing there now, but you could have sworn you saw movement from the top of the balcony area.
Looking at his friends, Something is wrong here, there was a gasp from back stage." He looks at Hirati who is wiggling in agitation and curiosity, "You can go take a look, but be discrete, don't get caught, and let us know what is happening." Hirati nods at him and becomes invisible before flying into the rafters and then behind the curtain to see what is happening. Pratavh says quietly as she goes, "Be safe."
Hirati manages to sneak behind the curtain, her passage causing only the slightest disturbance of the fabric. A disturbance unnoticed by anyone except Pratavh. Behind the curtain she witnesses a scene of chaos and panic. Stage hands run too and fro. There is a patch of what might be blood, but before she gets a chance to look at it closely, a stage hand with a steaming bucket and mop comes along and starts thoroughly cleaning the stage floor.
Outside the oblivious crowd are are noisily demanding an encore, but when none seems forthcoming and they become restless. After what seems an eternity a nervous looking man in smart but currently somewhat disheveled suit climbs the stage to say, "Dēviyōṁ, sajjanōṁ. Maiṁ bīmāra liyā gayā hai ēka durghaṭanā aura kalākārōṁ kē ēka sadasya kiyā gayā hai kī ghōṣaṇā karanē kē li'ē māphī cāhatā hūm̐ . Maiṁ ḍālī dhanuṣa lēnē mēṁ asamartha hō jā'ēgā afriad hūm̐ aura maiṁ āpa sabhī kō ēka vyavasthita katāra mēṁ chōṛanē kē anurōdha karanā hōgā.
Ghara mēṁ ēka maulavī nahīṁ hai, lēkina agara vē kr̥payā khuda kō jānā jātā kara sakatā hai?"
The news causes a sensation among the crowd and there's loud consternation and debate. With a great deal of effort and cajoling the ushers start herding people out of the building.
If however there is a cleric in the house, could they kindly make themselves known?
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During the 2nd act in response to Pratavh
"Oh I am thoroughly enjoying the act and have to wish to see through the illusion tonight. The question was one of professional curiosity; there could come a day I wished to recreate the effect
Standing to his feet with the majority of the audience in appreciation of a performance well done, Alwyn is clapping and whistling loudly. At Pratavh's statement a look of confusion crosses his face. "What do you mean? It was expertly wrought illusions, right?"
****Edit GM and I were posting at same time it appears....
Alwyn quiets down and begins to pay more attention to what is not happening that what has previously happened. Dissapointed to here there would not be a curtain call, he seeks out the box's attendant upon hearing...
If however there is a cleric in the house, could they kindly make themselves known?
He tells the man "While I am not a cleric, I do have means of healing available. Please take me where it is needed."
Lilly had been paying too much attention to the show to notice the subtle hints of misconduct behind the curtains. She clapped quite enthusiastically.
However when she had actually noticed something was wrong and the question for a cleric present was popped, she did raise her hand, almost at the same time as Alwyn.
"Lets see what can be done."
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Master Aurelius Si'holi had spent the first year of Mohktar's instruction in Absalom dedicated to a single punching technique. It had been a test of will. The solid determination that applying oneself to a singular purpose meant finding the path to perfection. Over the course of the year, distance and surface and air and mind became irrelevant to the results of his punch. It resided in the will to become better, the will to seek a higher state where Mohktar's fist was nothing more than an extension of his will. In his instruction, Master Si'hoki had given Mohktar the understanding of the Snake. Mohktar didn't question or seek understanding of his own fist, just as a snake doesn't seek understanding of its own bite. As such, he could focus upon an opponent.
Now, in the courtyard of the Houses of Perfection, he witnesses the expression of will again Age and invalidity mean nothing to the man as he moves thru the kata. Mohktar stands and joins in the flow, knowing the pattern as much as he knows his own eye color. But he sinks deeply into the motions, hands coming up and arcing in circles and shifting his weight so as to balance upon his right foot.
Time fades.
There is only the will to understand and to grow.
Thought fades.
There is only the slowed combat forms given new life and meaning by a wise man who's dedicated years to the art.
The self fades.
All that remains is the servant.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ स्टो री की डि वी ज न ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
At the end of the kata, Mohktar bows his thanks to the old man. He feels cleansed and renewed, though muscles ache and sweat beads. In his core there is peace knowing he resides in the open palm of the Master of Masters.
"I am Mohktar sē Bāharaurori, I am at your service."
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ स्टो री की डि वी ज न ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
The old man nods once and contemplates on the paths to enlightenment and when he speaks, it is with great sorrow, "Taiyō ga jōshō suru mamonaku, ōku no satori o motomete kuru. Watashitachiha mimi o katamuke suru hitobito o michibiku, sore ga watashitachi no mokutekidesu. Rongu wa, sore ga sō sa rete iruga, shōrai wa kumotte iru. Zuttobeki yami no shōri ushinawa remasu machi no chūshin ni kajiru gan wa, arimasu."
You sit with the old man for a time in contemplation, and you notice The first hint of color touching the horizon. The man nods in the direction of the sun and starts, ever so slowly, doing a series of movements called the salute to the sun. Again you are awed by the slow grace of his frail body and how he has honed the humblest of movements to perfection.
Shiko nods in his understanding of the Wise Master. He performs the kata with Mohktar.
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Mohktar knows not the words spoken, picking up only a few phrases that are in the heart tongue of his friend. But the sorrow in the man's tone speaks volumes. Mohktar finds himself sorting through the nuances of the man's words. He has time to reside in silence as the three men await the dawn. And as the old man stands to greet the rising sun, Mohktar rises as well and falls into step with the master's unbelievably graceful movements.
At the close of the dawn's getting, he bows low and says in Common, "You speak with sadness, Wise Master. Desire to know my ancestry, to experience the honor of walking these grounds and learn more has brought us here. I hear of troubling evil in the district west of here, and our chosen residence is unbalanced by a disappearance of its previous occupant." He pauses and looks upo the risen sun and breathes deeply. "But I know that my instincts to instill balance areinfluenced by my desires. I recognize that our true purpose in this land has yet to be revealed."
Mohktar turns to the old master and bows again. There is a chance that he doesn't even understand the Common tongue, but the monk is convinced Irori has placed him here and now for a reason. "How may we be of service?"
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Mohktar looks to Shiko and gestures with the slightest tilt of the head. He trusts the man's honor implicitly to translate his meaning into Tian.
Although, outside of translating, and in cases where Mohktar is isolated, I'm still curious as to boundaries of how I can use the Sense Motive skill according to Mohktar's methodology. Are the other aspects I described above acceptable? Could he pick up on nuances of speech to gather general meaning and intent? [/ooc]
Shiko notices Mohktar's confusion and says The Master say there is big problem in city. Very vague, as Wise Master usually are.
Maybe try talking to him?
"Shiko, please translate what I've said..." Mohktar indicates to his friend.
"You speak with sadness, Wise Master. Desire to know my ancestry, to experience the honor of walking these grounds and learn more has brought us here. I hear of troubling evil in the district west of here, and our chosen residence is unbalanced by a disappearance of its previous occupant." He pauses and looks upo the risen sun and breathes deeply. "But I know that my instincts to instill balance areinfluenced by my desires. I recognize that our true purpose in this land has yet to be revealed."
Mohktar turns to the old master and bows again. There is a chance that he doesn't even understand the Common tongue, but the monk is convinced Irori has placed him here and now for a reason. "How may we be of service?"
For a long moment the old man considers your request. With a sweep of his hand he bids you, stay and watch the rising dawn. A glorious dawn it is too, for sky is lit up with colors ranging from fiery red to the subtlest salmon pink accented by the distant lavender of the mountains and the dark blue of the ocean. Soon the morning clouds burn away to reveal a sky of azure blue, it promises to be a lovely day. You always knew the dawn could be moving, but somehow watching the dawn here makes your soul soar.
The man addresses you, "Dakara ōku wa, subete kono ten no eikō o miru tame ni jōshō suru koto wa arimasen. Watashi ga oboete ki yori mo ōku no toshi sore o kesseki shite inai. Hai watashi wa, watakushiha yori ōku no yoake o ima furui hyōji sa remasen shite imasu. Watashi wa nani o hokanohito ga shimasen o oshiete kuremasu, watashi no heiwa o shita. Machi no chūshin ni aru gan ni wa namae ga ari, sono namae ga Dhalaveidesu. Karera wa, kanojo wa kanojo no namae ga hanasa reru tabi ni kiki,-sō suru koto ni yotte, watashi wa hōfuku o shōtai suru koto o iu. Watashi wa mohaya kowaidesu, karera wa tameshite mimashomasen.."
Stories describe Dhalavei as a shapely, three-headed woman with ebon-black skin and unbound blueblack hair. Each of her two arms branches at the elbow into six forearms, in which she holds a temple
sword, a noose, a black glass orb, and a sealed scroll. One hand shows a symmetric symbol on the palm, while her last hand is outstretched in a mystic gesture.
As all colors vanish in shadow and darkness, so do all forms and things vanish in Dhalavei’s shadow. Her faithful claim that she holds the hidden comprehension of the unmaking of all things, and that she awaits the time when her cult is perfectly positioned to unleash her final destruction. She relishes well-planned espionage that leads to the devastation of enemies, the sowing of discord that breaks families, and secret political corruption that topples empires.
Frequently outlawed, Dhalavei’s cultists work in clandestine groups and sacrifice their enemies and other intelligent beings to their dark goddess. The new moon is a propitious time for sacrifices to Dhalavei, as her cult claims that she then actively strips the light from the night sky. Eclipses are especially sacred events to Dhalavei’s faithful.
Shiko does indeed translate Waizumasutā wa, kono hito wa Nisram de yami ni tsuite motto shiritai.
Hearing the response, Shiko adresses his friend Wise Master say that darkness has name, name is Dhalavei. Shiko shrugs, indicating he could care less about the problems of Nisram.
An usher escorts the trio through a veritable maze of corridors. To begin with these are richly decorated perhaps even opulent, but past a door marked 'Pravēśa niṣēdha' they become strictly utilitarian with the raw brickwork visible. Soon you are escorted into what you believe is a dressing room.
When the door is opened and you step in you hear crying. A young man weeps in the corner neat a couch where a beautiful women dressed in black silks lies. Even before her piteous condition, you notice the sickly sweet smell of decay. She shudders and coughs weakly, a trickle of blood escapes the corner of her mouth.
The man looks at you with hope in his eyes and begs you in common tongue, "Please help!"
She has been shot this much is clear, but the wound looks old and infected. The skin around the entry wound is mottled grey and disturbingly soft like an over ripe melon. One other curious thing, there is no arrow, yet you are the first one to examine the wound, nobody has removed anything.
Something, perhaps poison, appears to be ravaging her system from the inside.
As they walk to the back, Hirati discreetly lands on Pratavh's shoulder and rides him back.
Seeing the state of the woman and catching the odor Pratavh knows he is completely out of his element here. He stands by to assist if needed, but largely stays out of the way and keeps an eye on the suddenly somber Hirati.
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Mohktar smiles at his friend's demeanor. "We drink water everyday, do we not, Shiko-san? If we learned there was poison in the water, would we not be foolish to refuse cleansing it if we had the ability?" He tests a hand in his friend's shoulder. "We've elected to dwell here. If we are to draw the water of knowledge in this place, it is our obligation to help keep the well pure."
"Once again, honor me by translating my words," he says to Shiko, then bows respectfully to the wise man. "This being who shall not be named, does it's followers hollow their victims with burning liquids ? There is talk of victims with these afflictions. What does this symbolize?" Another bow to the old man. "I seek this knowledge as one who's lineage once called this Isle home. This lands poisoning is my poisoning. I seek this knowledge as one who's only read of such an unspeakable evil."
Mohktar looks back to Shiko as he realizes the depth of peril festering in the heart of the city. For the first time since knowing one another, the ninja sees the edges of anger in the monk's dark eyes.
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》 (Mohktar is sensitive to the idea of shame in the culture)
The old man grimaces, "Kore wa, uchigawa no oshoku to fuhai o shōchō"
You notice the first pilgrims are starting to arrive, the old man seemed about to say more but he falls silent.
Lilly, despite having treated some minor things for many a time, doesn't quite know what is wrong with the woman.
"She's hurt pretty bad, but what is causing it? Alwyn?"
The young man sees Lilly's confusion and asks, "Can you not petition the gods for healing?"
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"Something is causing the wound to rot, she has been shot that is obvious, has someone removed the arrow?"
Not really waiting for an answer, Alwyn will then cast detect magic, focusing on the wound itself understanding that the dancers have been using magic in their performance. Then he will cast cure light wounds on the dancer hoping to stabilize her long enough for her to be taken to a cleric.
He can cast again if he feels the lady needs additional help to get to the cleric's more capable services.
Alwyn's spell returns some color to the woman's cheeks, she stops groaning and falls asleep. Still the spell was less effective than expected, the wound is unchanged.
Roll me Spellcraft and Knowledge Arcarna checks please.
Shiko translates again Acid represent decay from inside. Nasty. he grimaces at the thought of that fate.
Lilly casts a detect magic too, she then attempts to determine the nature.
But the impression of the play freshly in her memory, she seems to be unable to fully focus.
Catching that the magic was less effective than it should have been Pratavh casts detect magic and examines the wound and auras on her.
Blanching at the thought of what this would take to do , and how evil someone had to be to want to cause this, Pratavh looks for the leader of the troupe and gestures for fim to come near, "Can we go someplace private to talk."
Pratavh gestures to his companions to come along and, once in private, reveals what he has learned. "Her injury is some kind of specially created necromantic spell that works like a parasite. I am afraid it is consuming her from the inside out and the magical healing only dampened the effects of the spell. I don't know how to remove it, but it is going to take some powerful magic, something like a wish or miracle might be able to do it. Worse still, when she dies, her soul won't exist any longer, it will have been completely consumed so there will be no way to raise her...ever. I can also tell you that the arrow that delivered this curse upon the unfortunate soul was made for her and her alone, it would have affected no one else had they been able to take the hit for her. Whoever did this had to put a lot of work into this, more than I would care to think about." Sighing sadly, "I am afraid that without divine intervention there is no possible way to cure this."
Pratavh looks down as if ashamed of his inability to help, "I'm sorry, but it might be a mercy to kill her now and quickly because she is going to suffer horribly until she dies. Of course, so long as she lives there is hope that something can be figured out."
Lilly looks angry.
"Filth, death is never good, save for when it's raiders we smack, but to lose even your soul is to cease entirely. I'm not heartless, but a mercykill would be best. However i vote for seeing if a solution is found before she dies. Should there be none, mercykill would be the thing to do."
Mohktar considers his options. To remain and press the master would be disrespectful to his obligations with the coming day and the pilgrims arriving. But there needed to be further information available about this threat to the city.
It would seem the balance I sought with regards to our lodgings and the missing patron has lit a path unto my feet.
He bows low to the old man, hands pressed into the gesture for deep gratitude. Then he looks to Shiko and tilts his head towards the master. "Please, ask him one more thing," Mohktar turns back to the old master and asks, "My path is set, master. But I require a first destination to begin fulfilling my obligation to the home of my grandfather. I humbly ask your assistance."
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Waizumasutā wa, kono hito wa anata no tasuke o negatte. Kare ga iku tame ni dono hōkō o shirita gatte iru. Shiko says, not bothering to look like he agrees with Mohktar.
You wish to dive headfirst into the wani filled lake... Shiko says to his friend in common with a frown.
Wani means crocodile
The old man considers for a moment before replying, "Ishi wa pūru ni nagekoma dōyō, Dhalavei no deshi-tachi no kōdō wa hamon o hikiokoshimasu. Toshi o kiite, jikan uchi ni anata ga doko ni mieru ka o shiru ni nari, nani o okonau hitsuyō ga arimasu."
You get the sense that he has said all he will for now. Besides the day of festival of colors begins! There is much to see, and maybe do.
Wise Master says go look for yourself. Shiko says with a wry smile.
The news causes the young man, Raj Gupta to go white as a sheet, "Oh gods Banhi! But why? Why would anyone do this?! We are just actors, we never harmed anyone."
An older man, who you take to be the manager puts a hand on the the youths back, trying to comfort him but in a strangled voice he says, "Raj that may be true but Banhi caught the Thakur's eye. A tremendous opportunity we all thought, we knew his patronage would bring attention. Why would somebody do this? Because it would upset the Thakur and make him look weak, that's why..."
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"Excuse me sir, I know politics can be a very convoluted issue but why would someone go through all of this trouble to hurt this young lady? And just why would that make the Thakur look weak, the fact it has happened in his city?"
Alwyn has traveled much, but politics can still turn his brain inside out. Trying to follow all of the twist and turns it makes.
The man scratches his beard while he considers and after a bit he replies, "I believe they, whoever they are, are making a point. Nobody is safe, not even a favorite of the Thakur... Why now? Probably because of the Yolarati festival, it's a celebration of life and culture and this may well overshadow it."
Lilly slaps Alwyn slightly over the head.
"Slowpoke, if she's caught the fancy of the Thakur, there's two options. Either a jealous woman or someone who wants to take power by usurping a weakened position."
She looks at the manager.
"Do you have any guesses who would benefit from a weakened Thakur?"
The man frowns, "I.. I don't know. The Thakur is quite popular with the people. Maybe some faction in the council? I don't really get time to keep up with politics, running this place takes everything waking hour I have."
They agree readily enough to take Bahni to the temple of Saranrae up on the hill. A carriage is called for and the three of you help Raj carry the comatose form of Bahni into it. You feel oddly disjointed from the outside world as your well-lit carriage races to the temple in a clatter of wheels and hooves. By now it's really quite late and the streets are mostly deserted apart from a few revelers staggering home.
Before long you are pounding on the doors of the minaretted temple of Saranrae, eventually an acolyte opens the door port and asks sleepily, "Hām̐, yaha kyā hai?"
Lilly keeps things direct.
"The theater's play main actress is hurt and it's an emergency. She's struck by a soul consuming curse. Now will you help her before it's too late?"
Still standing in her dress, arms crossed and a questioning hurried look.
Stung, the acolyte scurries away to fetch the Priestess. A few minutes later the oaken doors are thrown open, spilling a blueish light onto the cobblestones.
The door reveals a beautiful woman wearing a shift emblazoned with Saranrae's symbol. She seems half asleep with her hair in dissaray, but the moment she spots Banhi she snaps to and rushes over. She gasps, "How long ago did this happen?! The wound has putrefied..."
Somebody explains it happened just hours ago and she mutters a most unladylike curse. Grabbing her holy symbol, she tries a series of increasingly powerful healing magics, including one that caused an overwash of holy power that left your ears ringing. To her dismay, the wound only closes slightly.
Sweat dripping from the exertion, the priestess complains bitterly, "This is beyond me. Holy Saranrae can hear my prayers but all but a trickle of power is blocked. This poor poor girl, it would require a miracle to heal her."
She beckons one of the acolytes over and tells him, "Get a litter so we may move her and fetch wine of poppy. We can at least make her passing comfortable."
She then turns to the party and demands, "How did this happen? Tell me everything!"
Pratavh repeats what he learned from studying the magic involved much as he did before at the opera house. Once he finishes, "Those two spells you just used didn't help either huh, that is a powerful combination as well. Sadly it looks like I was right, nothing short of a miracle will do this, things that I can not do. I hope we can come up with something to help her, I don't care to see this woman or her soul destroyed, particularly not in such a hideous manner." Hirati is still very subdued and focused for once.