Kallik and Sequoya,
You make your way to the second tier - the refectory. Baskets of ashbread--the exact same baskets, and the exact same bread, brought by priests to the poor outside--are spaced upon the long wooden tables of the silent eating place of the Temple. Today, there is butter.
You are noticed by the various priests of course, but left alone. Lui and Antonio keep watch. The silence of the refectory is not absolute; it is punctuated by natural sounds - the rustling of robes, coughing here and there, and a background din of knife and plate clinks as slices of bread and butter are cut and eaten.
Ibinu,
Culkin nods, exasperated. "Yes, the white obsidian! It stopped working. There was some kind of critical mass achieved elsewhere. It must have been Light, they're the only ones who could produce so much. They made more than we did, now all of theirs is probably still active, and we've got great piles of nothing." He remains seated, his body language withdrawn.
Holding his knees against his chest, "Sky's balls, I'm sorry I volced up like this!" You are surprised by both the alchemist's uncharacteristic swearing and the sudden tears rolling down his cheeks.
Ibinu ignores the whining and puts his intellect to use, "Well, that's possible. It's also possible this was done by our local alchemists. If so, more power to us, though we definitely should have coordinated better. If it was done by someone in light, then I expect we'll need to look into that when I go there."
He puts his hand on the shoulder of the other alchemist, "there there, go get some rest. We'll figure this out."
Culkin nods, and seems to realize how he has been acting in front of you. His breathing calms down. "Yes, sir. I'll rest now. I will find some way to honor you, and the Lady. I swear it."
Right as you are at the door, he says, "I just have a feeling that we would have known if such an event happened in Hearth. It would leave some kind of sign. Well, goodnight, or whatever time it is. Please visit tomorrow, if you can, and I'll give you my report on anything I find about the cwmwl, or what Light has been up to."
Ibinu, you leave Culkin and walk outside to the grand staircase. From your vantage point upon the Temple, your strong sight reveals something disturbing to the far northeast-
Hanging like a pale spider above the distant city of Light, you see the crescent symbol of the Smiler, glowing silvery in the broken black Sky.
Moon has risen.
Offering Sequoya a tired smile and returning the wave to Lui, "Better than the day before, which is all I can ask for."
Glancing down at Egret with concern clear on her face. But death and destruction is what she brings not healing. Keeping a hand on Egret's shoulders and hoping that is helping the child as much as it is helping her.
Looking back at the huntress, "We are heading to breakfast if you would like to come with."
In the dinning hall she eats but clearly does not seem to taste anything and is exceedingly tense.
"Of course." Sequoya replies, joining them to head to breakfast.
She eats in silence for a bit, sharp eyes taking in the looks and actions of the elen around them, while surreptitiously studying her fellow oread. "Just thought I'd mention, in the same situation, I don't know that I wouldn't have done it myself. You handled it admirably all things considered."
A wordless curseword drips from Ibinu's open mouth.
He turns to his retinue, "Let's wrap this day up so we can book it to Light and see how bad things have gotten."
Sophia smiles and tries to lighten your mood, saying, "Don't forget, Your Strength, you have to duel an alchemist that guzzles strength potions and dedicate the new statue you commissioned for Viceburn before you can even think about challenging the newly born god-thing that seems to be taking over Light."
Sighing, "Maybe if I had not done everything else I had previously then maybe. But I have a history of violence that does not give me any ground to stand on."
Ripping apart a roll and eating it in small pieces, "Thank you."
"There are situations where violence is a necessity, those of us who are good at it, we'll we fill an odd role, being needed by society, but perpetually a bit of an outsider." Sequoya comments.
You come to the front of the Mithril Makers, located in the heart of the Military District, right across the street from Healer's Square, and built on the ruins of an ancient temple to Sky. You see recent damage upon the tall wooden entrance. There is an empty space, vaguely elen in shape, missing from the front door, where the disgraced Silver Bringer née Moon has been crudely removed and disposed of. Wounds in the wood, crowbar shaped, show raw, unstained timber beneath.
Hawk Mharu stands before you, unsettlingly muscular for a sylph. He is a full head shorter than you, but so dense that he might well weigh twice as much. You notice that his hands are shaking slightly, but you cannot tell if this is from nerves, or from his penchant for alchemical self-medication.
As you approach, he makes ready to down his pungent mutagen. "Oi, the pluck is back. And now he's horny in his plucky pajamas. What say ye, pluck?"
A sizable crowd has gathered on the far streets, out of any danger from the fight (one would hope). There is a fair mix of ifrits and sylphs, but no oreads and no undines that you can see.
There is absolutely no one standing behind the angry young sylph in support of him.
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Swallowing for just a brief moment, Ibinu steels himself.
This is just another trial.
He turns to the challenger, "No time to waste so let's do this. Punks like you are all talk anyway."
He shifts into a combat stance, right leg forward and spear held vertically behind his back by his left hand. His right arm points towards the gutsy sylph, palm up. With a flick of his fingers he motions the enemy towards him, "We begin on your action. Expect no quarter from me."
Continuing to rip apart the bread, "Very far on the outside. Seems like I was there from the get go. I was so angry when I got here and I don't know if I brought more by clinging to that anger... I did so many bad things."
Ibinu. the muscular sylph downs his mutagen, and without waiting for the effect, downs another potion . As the volatile combination of alchemical accelerants hits his system, he starts shouting--screaming, really--and frothing at the mouth. His eyes bulge, bloodshot. He watches you cast your spell, uncaring.
He draws his great blade, but it seems more like a longsword held in his grotesque, veiny arms.
He charges, sprinting forward on legs of springsteel,
And you sidestep him, your mage armor deflecting it just so, and thus not allowing him the first touch. The great blade hits the cobblestone street with a clang.
Ibinu feels the blade swish just past him, lightly deflecting off his hardenend robes as he dodges the strike.
Better not let that connect much!
He snorts out a laugh, "All that for a chipped cobblestone?"
Carefully moving his hands in a practiced motion, he releases a gout of flame at his target's slavering face!
"If there is one thing that I've learned, there are few things that cannot be redeemed or forgiven if the intent is sincere." Sequoya replies quietly.
Hawk Mharu takes the blast full on, the ifrit screaming in unexpected pain from the penetrating flames. Yelling with renewed anger, he chops down again,
this time cutting into your shoulder. As the blow lands, your earlier spell kicks in, and burns the ifrit again.
Actually feeling part of the blow, Ibinu's adrenaline begins to pump through his Sylphan blood. But before he looses control he calmly steps to the side and unleashes another gout of flame.
Soften him up again, then finish this with a big display... hopefully.
He taunts, "How does the Lady's fire feel, punk? Not what you expected I'm sure, but that's just a little taste."
Once again, the raging alchemist cannot avoid the torrents of flame blazing from your hands. It is strange, to see ifrit skin blister and bubble into second degree burns.
"I'll eat yer plucky fire fer dinner, ye pluck!!" He slashes even more quickly now, unnatural muscles practically flinging the heavy blade through the air.
One more cut, this one roughly perpendicular to the first.
And again the Cauldron Lady's contempt billows from Ibinu's very aura, scorching the weak elen with scorn. He shouts in denial again and again, his voice growing hoarse from abuse. He is still standing.
Ibinu reels back from the slash, his composure gone and his bestial rage takes over, "YOU WILL DIE IN DRAGONFIRE!" At the last word, he takes a deep breath and flames burst from his mouth, incinerating the sylph where he stands.
Mharu's overtaxed muscles do not respond in time. He is utterly engulfed by an inferno of true dragonfire. His dying body kneels before the might of Cauldron and Dragon, of Knife and Flame.
The husk falls over. Immediately, the crowd erupts, chanting "Dragonclaw! Dragonclaw!"
By the time the shouts and the flames die down, there is little left of the angry hawk save blackened bones, and two steel puddles of armor and sword. There is nothing left, even for the vultures.
Staggering back from his outburst of flames, Ibinu looks at his works and mutters a single curseword before standing up and accepting the praise. He forces a smile to his face, "And that's why you don't challenge Her Power!"
Well... that didn't go the way I hoped. Damn fool.
Shrugging, "Forgiven sure. Redeemed?"
Shaking her head, "Not in this city."
Glancing over at Egret and mumbling, "Certainly not forgotten either."
"Where would you prefer to be...given a choice?" Sequoya asks.
Looking over at Sequoya and clearly thinking on it, "I don't know. I feel indebted to some elen here but I loath this place. And I know I am not well liked here."
Mushing the shreaded bread back together, "I don't have anywhere else to go."
Inam comes back from her time with the foundries and smiths, just in time to see Ibinu incinerate a fellow sylph, leaving little behind but ash and blackened boots. She says nothing as the crowd applauds, just looks on with kindness and understanding as the two Champions lock eyes for a moment.
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"Please stand. No need to kneel before me as I am just an elen like you. We should kneel before The Warrior."
With a weak smile, she continues "I have heard you are attempting to work stone as I did. That is amazing! Though, I'm afraid I can't truly explain how I did it."
"You see it's about trust and feel. As I'm sure you've heard, I work with my eyes closed. This could be dangerous to work on a forge without looking, but that's where the trust comes in. You must trust Volcano to guide you."
"As you are guided by Him you feel his will pour through you. You just need to take your time and go slowly."
"I suppose the most important part of the whole process though is spending time meditation with 'The Warrior' first. I spend at least an hour every morning with [b]'Him'[/i]. If I have time throughout the day, I try to look back to the scriptures. But if you don't know Him, don't try my method."
Pausing to consider a moment her words, she smiles and nods fervently. "Tell you what! Lets try something here, if you truly want to do this. For the next month, spend an hour every morning and an hour every evening meditating on 'The Warrior's' teachings. During this month, you are free to do your normal duties, but do them the same way you normally do."
"After that month, take two days off your normal forging duties. Meditate on what you feel HE wants you to make. Then, allow him to work through you."
"OH! I'm so sorry, but I must be getting back to the Temple. I look forward to seeing what you all create though."
With a curtsy, she makes her way back to see how Ibinu is doing.
With a nod to Ibinu, she considers 'At least he's still safe, though the Cauldron Lady is quite an influence. He should be commended for the restraint he has shown. I know it can't be easy...'
Ibinu seems to be in another fugue. Apparently slaughting idiots doesn't improve his mood. Maybe that's a good thing.
He wanders around the town, doing his best to pretend to enjoy the revelry.
He hopes he can just get through everything, crash hard tonight and feel better in the morning as they hopefully head out to see what Light is up to.
Ibinu, you put on a good show of enjoyment as the festivities start. The remaining sylph alchemists--those that you chastised long ago--demonstrate a new way of making weapons sharper and more effective, using only alchemy. (treated as magic bane weapons weapons against the Dark)
You oversee the unveiling of the statue you commissioned: the Cauldron Lady and the Warrior as equals, looking out over the city. It is sculpted not from the obsidian of old, but from new stone, freshly mined from a northern quarry. The two gods are holding hands, which you do not remember suggesting, but the theme of unity, strength, and hope comes through clearly.
Though the crowd is not drinking--the morals of Viceburn forbid it on principle--there is nonetheless high emotion running through the many elens present at the ceremony. Between Ibinu's revenge upon the Ardere, his slaying of the rogue alchemist, and now this- they are drunk on passion, on worship of the Lady and the Warrior and their Champions.
You feel the approval of your goddess - in your mind's eye, her ancient, pitted cauldron glows with new red strength, which mingles with the pure golden light that you sacrificed to her, what feels like a lifetime ago.
Inam,
Etrah glows in response to the worship and adoration of the crowd as the statue is unveiled. His feathers are incandescent for a moment, then settle to a warm gleam of ruby, tangerine, and dandelion plumage, giving off the light of a large bonfire.
"There is a festival going on. Or if you want to avoid the crowd we can can do whatever you would like."
"Whatever you all wish to do is fine by me, if you don't mind the company. It will help me get my bearings here." Sequoya says as they walk, taking in everything going on around them.
Kallik,
You remember an Egret from a few rites ago, who would have jumped at the chance for outdoor fun. You remember a girl who wished upon pennies thrown into the Steam; a girl who snuggled with you once upon a cold sleigh ride.
That girl is still there--you can see it, when she feels safe--but she is not ready for crowds and the unknown. Tears choke her voice, though her eyes are dry. "Let's just go home, okay?"
Ibinu asks one thing of his goddess that night - no dreams. Please, grant oblivion, just a few candles.
His boon is rejected. The Champion of the Cauldron Lady may need to rest his body, but his mind is soaked in savage, gleeful recollections of the cleansing of the Ardere Watch. Spear, kill, flame.
He awakes, leaving his heavy dreams upon his sweat-soaked pillow.
Heart beating out of his chest and stomach burning with acid, Ibinu just sits on the side of his bed for a while, trying to catch his breath. Eventually getting up he sighs and considers how his life has gotten to this point.
But then he glances back at his bed he allows himself a smile, the first in a long time.
Smiling at the plumage, Inam considers the statue. 'The did well. Seems at least The Warrior approves of our efforts.' her eyes sweet the crowd, falling on Ibinu. 'I wonder how the Lady is taking the image.'
Her thoughts falling back to the venture to the forges, 'I think a month is right. Especially with our unified front for the two parts being equals. Shorter and they may think The Warrior is stepping back...longer and her flock may see us as trying to outdue her festival...'
"I sure hope we are doing the right thing."
Making her way back to the sleeping quarters, she finds herself increasingly tired; more than she rightly feels she should be. "It hasn't been a strenuous day...though...I do hope Ibinu is ok."
Struggling to stay awake long enough to finish her prayers, she quickly finds the dark void swallow her up from the waking world.
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Nodding to Sequoya and Egret, "I am always ok with avoiding the crowd." There is a curiosity about how the others are doing and what is going on at the festivities in the chaotic place. Fairly certain she should be there as something always goes wrong. But the sins of the city cannot be her responsibility, right?
Besides there is a terrified child and oread that still smells like the forest. Id she had to pick it was an easy choice.
Egret smiles with sad eyes. "Thanks Sissy."
As each of you awake for a new day, your guards inform you there is a foul-smelling el running about the Temple courtyards, shouting obscenities. Every time a guard attempts to apprehend him, the strange el vanishes from sight, only to reappear several minutes later. It seems merely mischief for the moment, but your vigilant guards are concerned.
"Well, we could check it out I suppose as we head out. We probably should to make sure it's nothing serious."
'Need to ensure we get this investigation going though. Evil is afoot and if we get caught behind again...eventually we won't be able to reverse things.'
Ibinu sighs as his expected headache returns, ”Always something. Yeah, let’s go chat up this el. See what their deal is.”
He waves his dragon relative over, ”Join us while we deal with this. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of issues like this to deal with while we visit Light.”
"Oh good! Learning and a possible fight! I can hear the composition of a great war ballad humming in my brain already!"
As you descend the grand staircase, you feel a strange energy in the air, the wind shifting erratically, first in your face, then pushing your back, then swirling yesterday's snow around your feet. Even the ever-present sylph windsweepers struggle to keep the walkways clear.
Similarly, you feel a thrum of tension as you approach the courtyards -- among the ashbread lines and the preaching priests, there is a pocket of empty space the crowds are avoiding. In the middle of this space is an elen with matted beard, unkempt yellow-gray hair, and-
He looks up at you, beaming at Ibinu, then Inam. His pupils are shaped like novelty sylphan hourglasses -- not the ill-defined blobs of a goat's eye, these are sharp and clear against the crystalline blue irises of the bedraggled sylph.
His yellowed teeth and discolored tongue exude a palpable stench as he cries, "My friends! I knew you would come!"
Pausing Inam glances to her companions and then back to the man. "Oh, uh, of course we came."
Forcing a smile, she curtsies. "I do apologizes, but your name escapes me. What are you called?"