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Zephyr, as soon as you take your attention away from the screaming crows, they take the opportunity to flee, as if your permission had been granted to them in some way. The sudden beating of wings is loud, then fading, then gone.
Albert had stepped away from Luu Sânh's work to speak with his two students, and only vaguely been aware of the general tenor of the conversation. He takes a bit of time to appraise the plants, grateful for an opportunity to do the sorts of things he was actually trained to do. He walks a few paces away, nodding so that Drook and Luu Sânh knew that they could still reach him in an emergency, .
"This is very close to Moly," Albert says of Gamb's specimen. "But note the petaloid tepals--there are six here instead of five or seven. And the inner petals have distinct green markings instead of the more teal markings of moly. This is Galanthus nivalis."
It's purely academic, but makes for a nice test case in an area of the alchemical field often neglected by university-trained alchemists. Herbalism was often thought to be the purview of druids and witches. They were those rarest and most-feared of folk whose wisdom was hard to verify using the established empirical methods, but whose results could not be denied. Many of the earliest remedies derived in Light's best labs originally came from the fields and forests, long before the isolated primary active ingredient had been identified and isolated for mass production. And then again, studies often found that the remaining suspension matrix containing the primary active ingredient had unique effects that were difficult to replicate outside the original form.
That was the nature of moly, and of so many other useful plants. There was little money in trying to understand an herb when its basic functions had already been elucidated and extracted. It was already a challenge to grow in the first place; why bother cultivating it when the resources required to acquire a single dose far outstripped demand? It was a bad business venture.
He's in the middle of the explanation differentiating Galanthus and Moly when Luu Sânh breaks into odd laughter. He, too, springs into action as the undan seems to lapse in between madness and lucidity. He tries to grab Drook as the boy runs away, and then gets into a defensive stance as Luu Sânh issues her warning. This wasn't supposed to happen.
"I won't lie, that was unnerving," he says to Luu Sânh. "I take it whatever you found was not good." He motions Iris over. "Iris found some moly. I just need to boil this in two liters of water to draw out the primary ingredients, strain the mixture, and allow the mixture to dry. The powder we will have left should function as a natural abjurative. Of course, that will take some time. Will he be safe until then?" Then he looks at Luu Sânh even more carefully: "And just as important, will we be safe until then?"
Nothing is happening in terms of Moon waxing for...a long time. What happened to the pattern? It's the same sensation as be bypassed by a summer storm - calmness and disquiet.
Then you read the arcane currents and pressures more closely...
He is waiting. In two days, Moon will not only wax with strength as never before - He is moving on Hearth. The awful berth of His passage is, even now, tearing at the magical fabrics of the atmosphere.
And worse yet, on his ponderous journey, He will be flying directly overhead in less than a day.
"You're not wrong," Luu Sânh agrees, "Not only is there an enchantment there, it had a defensive set-up and was rigged to go off when someone took a closer look. I'm fine, by the way, she adds, more matter of fact than passive-aggressive, though there's at least a whiff of the latter in the way she says it.
"Thank you, Iris," she says at the mention of the discovery of the moly. Luu Sânh massages her temple with the heel of her hand. "Can we talk privately?" she asks, starting to pace restlessly and hoping that the girl takes that as her cue to leave. "In truth I don't know. There's something there. I saw a face: grinning, laughing, watching. I don't know the extent of its abilities to either actively control Drook or more passively see through his eyes, though it was able to impart it's madness-inducing spell to me." She sighs, coming to a stop. "You've got more experience of this than me so tell me if I'm way off here but does that description tally with that of Moon? Could this be some kind of aspect of conduit of his power? Because if so, how safe can any of us be?" she finishes grimly.
All the talk of of Faces and Curses and Air that wasn't Air was a bit over Chezarina's head, but she figured it was simply the domain of those like Zephyr. Instead, she set about the work of preparing a place to rest, focusing on grounded physical concerns.
Chezarina, the other ifrit in the group (so many sylphs!) wordlessly joins you. You prepare to be annoyed by him breaking your precious silence, but to your surprise he simply does whatever heavy lifting you ask him to do, and other general campwork.
He gives you a nod of respect as you each finish your tasks. Bellissima," he says as he looks toward the defensible, snug campsite.
"I'm Gamberino. Most people call me Gamb. Next to meet you, eh?" He gives you a smile, then starts to heads back toward Albert and the others, always looking toward his professor for another task to do.
***
"The pleasure is all mine Gamb, call me Chezarina." Chezarina certainly has respect for those who do what needs to be done without more words than she can understand. While she didn't consider herself unintelligent on a normal day, all the mystical endeavors of late had her feeling bewildered and overwhelmed. Even the children spoke of such things on these days!
If Albert picked up on the whiff of passive aggression from Luu Sânh's words, he doesn't show it. In his mind, the mere fact that she had recovered answered the question. He thanks Iris as she leaves the two of them to discuss things privately.
The undan's description of what she had seen raises Albert's hackles and anyone can see the slight shifts in his behavior suggesting growing unease. His pupils dilate and then narrow, his head tilts forward and down, and his breathing shallows.
A face--grinning, laughing, watching. "Yes," he says. "That description matches what we have observed so far." It was as he had feared when Drook revealed what he had encountered. Drook may well have been an unwitting conduit for Moon's spycraft. It wasn't his fault, of course, but it was something that needed to be taken care of as soon as possible.
It would take time to prepare the moly, of course. Did they have that sort of time?
He continues the conversation even as his thoughts percolate. "And you're quite right--our safety is neither guaranteed nor likely. I need to run some tests to determine how much time we have before we are next at risk. You're welcome to join me."
One of Albert's projects in the last few days had been measuring a series of variables that he suspected might correlate with Moon's waxing and waning. He had found a pattern. And within that pattern, there were dozens of potential factors. It was the sort of data dredging nonsense that might get him accused of p-hacking by some of his colleagues if it were not necessary for pure survival. Many of the factors could be tracked by running tests on vials of liquid, looking at temperature, viscosity, pH, and more in regular time intervals. Wind direction velocity, too, along with air temperature and the composition and density of air particles. He hadn't found too much interaction with the soil yet, but he had been picking up samples there as well. An entity like Moon had remarkable control over the elements.
Albert was trying to more or less automate some of these tests so that they could be done as he attended to his other duties, but without knowing exactly what he was looking for, there was no way to develop any kind of alarm system that would indicate when a certain number of Moon-correlating factors passed the threshhold for activity detection. That all still had to be done by looking at each factor in turn and in combination with the others, lest he spout off continuous false alarms.
So in one of the group's breaks, Albert gets out his mobile lab and begins running a bevy of tests. The results of these he records in his lab notebook, asking his students to look after certain tasks he knew that they could handle. Off to the side, he also starts boiling the moly in water--almost like making a tea. There isn't enough time to do everything and maintain a reasonable pace, so it takes some time. But when Albert has collected enough data and compared today's data point to his previous records, he calls the apparent leaders of the group together, a grim look on his face.
"We have less than a day until Moon passes over us," he announces. He consults his notes once more to be certain and sighs deeply. "He is going to Hearth."
There is a dreadful silence that meets these words.
Gamberino speaks first. The ifrit always seem to have ideas. "Well, we can make another cage, like that one in town. Have others dig so the cage is underground, more protection from those rays that make people go crazy."
Nodding as Albert backs up her hypothesis, Luu Sânh's face sets into a hard expression. The poor child. The sooner we can do something to help him the better. For all of us. As the alchemist explains about his experiments, she is quick to agree to help. "Of course. Just tell me what to do. Anything you can explain as we go so I can be more useful next time is great but if we're short on time then do as you think best." Although her mind was sharp enough, this was a school she knew little of, not to mention following commands was something fairly ingrained.
When Albert sets up his mobile lab, Luu Sânh falls into step quickly enough, retrieving substances, taking measurements and recording data as directed. The results, however, do not bode well.
"And where he goes, madness and destruction follow," she replies to the sylph's announcement. It is a statement rather than a question. "So our options are either get out of his path, fortify ourselves as best we can, or both." She racks her brains for any useful piece of knowledge or magic that may help them.
At the second part of Albert's statement, Luu Sânh simply bows her head at the heavy losses to come. She doesn't want to feel defeatist about it but she at least has no means to send a warning, never mind stop a God.
The professor gladly shows Luu Sânh what he has been working on, finding her a fast study as capable or more than the students he has been surviving with. Probably more. He wasn't sure what sort of training she had, but it was more than sufficient. Gamb could stand to observe her and take a few notes.
Later, on discussing the results, Albert nods grimly at the collective
determination. "I don't know if escape will be possible," he offers, "But if we are able to fortify with enough time to spare, we can try to move out of the direct path."
He looks determinedly at Gamb, though, a faint upward curve tingling at the corner of his lip. He decides to explain to Luu Sânh and Chezarina, who may not have seen the cage in question. "In the last town, we stumbled on a cage covering some of the buildings. I believe that the previous occupants had erected it as a shield, as the elementals infesting the town were unable to penetrate it. Moon may also be so rebuffed."
He looks around at all of the others. "We tried to gather supplies, but I don't know how much we were able to retain on our retreat. I had some time to study the construction of the cage, at least enough to understand the basic principles. Whether we have the materials to recreate it or not...well, we'll have to do our best." It was the only way, after all.
---
--Digging it partially underground, even a few inches, will help "ground out" the various charges that will be flickering in the air.
--Between your spellcraft and alchemy, and the more exotic materials that Iris' group gathered, it can be done.
--You surmise that any dispelling you do on Drook will be most effective INSIDE of the faraday cage, where his 'signal' will be cut off from Moon
Chezarina is uncertain about cages and how they could possibly interact with Moon. It must be magical. All she could do was give them the best chance to work to ensure their survival.
Chezarina, you spook a few wolves into finding an easier meal elsewhere, but aside from that there is little to report. Like a hush before a storm, the local wildlife seems to be hiding from the impending passage of Moon.
Zephyr, your head is clouded after the difficult conversation with Bye. Something about the Breathless Valley, and the nests of lightning elementals, has left you exhausted.
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Gamberino, the garrulous ifrit medic, takes a few of the younger disciples and sets to work on digging a shallow trench with a will. Washakie is missed not only for his kindness and patience, but this day for his natural touch for orean earth-moving.
Iris, the sylphan medic, quietly oversees the organization of the special materials needed for the charged cage; alloys made here, this particular anodization process along there...
Anan puts his hand on Zephyr's shoulder, offering wordless comfort. He can tell the emir is tired this day.
Bye has equations of his own in his head, different ones, and he can't really help with anything. He broods and fidgets and mumbles to himself.
Fredrik, the older boy with a serious face, comes over to Bye while the others are halfway done with the cage. Showing a bit of kindness to the strange sylph, he asks few questions about a certain red alloy that goodpriest edmund had mentioned after his singular vision. They talk for a few minutes, and Bye seems slighly more at ease now.
Perhaps there is a better way. A bridge starting with forgiveness.
As Albert describes the cage, an image starts to shape in Luu Sânh's mind. "I understand, the principles seem sound so if we can construct our own it seems sensible."
"The building itself I'm not sure I can do so much to help with, though I'm happy to labour." She scratches her head, giving thought about how to best protect the group from the full force of Moon. "But I think I can add to the design to ensure that we have the right balance of energies."
Indeed, Luu Sânh's intuition is a thing she simply flows with, even when she cannot see the shape of her own work straight away. By the time the alloys have cooled and the fine wiring soldered in place, you have collectively made a fine rosette pattern that pleases the eye and distributes the theoretical energies quite nicely.
When all the circuits touch in just the right way, Albert adds the final ingredient - celerity. With his alchemical prowess, it's nearly child's play to set up a reaction that provides sufficient energy and protection for the duration of Moonrise.
There is a hum, loud at first, then quiet, as the dense field of celerity settles in to place. The sounds and voices around you all seem muffled beneath that low hum. You feel completely isolated from the outside world. It is cold and damp in the trench Gamberino and the young ones dug.
Candles have passed underneath the wires and tarp of your makeshift shelter. Your elen eyes have been adjusting to the dim gloom of the evening, when the air begins rapidly brighten around you. Yellow light, softened only slightly by the canvas covering, beams into your eyes.
And though this lurid color of yellow is ugly to behold, and the sharp brightness of the light certainly unpleasant...that is the extent of it. Nothing attacks your body or assails your mind. The celerity cage has held. Drook starts sniffling, the emotion of the moment too much for him, reminding Albert and Luu Sânh of their remaining obligation.
Outside, you hear strange laughter--part scream, part moan--rise and fall in time with the light. All the hapless elens and animals caught without protection, now exulting Moon's name with vomited smiles. Wild winds shake the yellow grasses about you, sounding like a derisive hiss from an angry crowd.
Gamberino distracts many of the younger acolytes and alchemists with some card tricks. He manages to find several extra crocodile 3s behind ears, smiling and distracting.
It was not a pleasant night, Luu Sânh had to concede. Even though the celerity cage worked even better than she had dared hope, there was little sleep for anyone. The fear that it might not - even though she trusted the magic and the work - never really went away. And the raucous noise, the sickening light, the howls, the screams and worse. Well, nobody was likely to get much rest with that happening a bit too close for comfort.
As Drook seems to be finding it hard to sit still - hardly surprising in the circumstances - Luu Sânh shoots a glance at Albert. In theory, being within their protective barrier ought to help trying to rid the boy of his uncanny divine possession. Hopefully it would dim Moon's influence on Drook as well as provide the rest of them with an extra layer of protection in case things did not go to plan. Having already gazed into his mad eyes once, the undan has not desire to do so again.
She leaves it to Albert to apply the moly, but watches carefully, probing to check that the undesired presence has truly gone.
Your trained healer's hands go for the obvious route, the straight forward techniques -
only to be met with a sudden loss of bloodflow that is as terrifying as it is baffling. Under the treatment of the moly, Drook's eyes go cold and white, almost like frostbite. What could have gone wrong? One last joke of the inquisitor? You think of applying a warm compress, anything--
"No. We claim this one. He will be a witness to our first Acts." A winged silhouette fills the room, flaming wings spreading healing energies all across the enclosure like an ocean--
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"Seek out signs of the Phoenix in these dark times. Look for my signs, in Hearth."
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-the flame-winged presence is gone.
Drook's eyes are completely healed, and all traces of the lingering magicks are gone. He has faint red marks to the side of each eye, like small wings. He is sleeping, a deep, healing rest.
The presence of Moon has been gone for some time, and you decide to remove the tarp and open the cage. A gray morning greets you. Anan gives a quiet prayer of thanks, cradling his black feather with reverent hands.
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Luu Sânh breathes a sigh of relief as both her magic and Albert's healing suggest that the invasion of Drook's person has been curtailed. She can find no hint of residual magic but the work has understandably taken its toll on the boy.
As he falls into a deep slumber, Luu Sânh prepares to follow suit, having volunteered for dawn watch. Before settling in for as much sleep as she is able to muster in the circumstances, she draws out a bottle and unstoppers it, taking a long swig. She offers it around to the others, "Anyone for a little sleeping aid?"
* * * * *
Having awoken to darkness and - finally - something resembling quiet - Luu Sânh watches the dull light of morning slowly invade and replace the cover of night. Sat vigilantly, wrapped in a thick blanket, the others begin to stir and awaken. She echoes the prayer of thanks, "Water may wind, but the course remains true."
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Chezarina plays it cool as Moon flies overhead. No matter how much it may unnerve her, it is simply not her way to show such things. Though, perhaps her bowstring was checked and rechecked far more times than was strictly necessary.
Chezarina is by no means able to maintain her detached demeanor when a flaming giant bird appears in the middle of a medical treatment, falling back flat on her back in surprise. She scrambles to recompose and dust herself off. Well, hopefully no one was looking at her while that- whatever that was- happened.
As he falls into a deep slumber, Luu Sânh prepares to follow suit, having volunteered for dawn watch. Before settling in for as much sleep as she is able to muster in the circumstances, she draws out a bottle and unstoppers it, taking a long swig. She offers it around to the others, "Anyone for a little sleeping aid?"
Fredrik, the serious-faced young priest who was goodpriest Edmund's primary acolyte, shakes his head. With slight distaste, he says, "My mentor cautioned against such things. I'll share in the first watch." He stiffly takes his leave. Drook follows shortly after, apologizing for Fredrik.
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Fredrik, the serious-faced young priest who was goodpriest Edmund's primary acolyte, shakes his head. With slight distaste, he says, [b]"My mentor cautioned against such things. I'll share in the first watch."
The undan shrugs, unbothered by both the refusal and the judgement that accompanied it. Next time I won't ask then. Luu Sânh drinks again, quite happy to self-medicate and confident that the quantity she is imbibing will not impair her faculties.
Fredrik, the serious-faced young priest who was goodpriest Edmund's primary acolyte, shakes his head. With slight distaste, he says, "My mentor cautioned against such things. I'll share in the first watch."The undan shrugs, unbothered by both the refusal and the judgement that accompanied it. Next time I won't ask then. Luu Sânh drinks again, quite happy to self-medicate and confident that the quantity she is imbibing will not impair her faculties.
Zephyr smiles, "The offer is appreciated, as will be the warmth. Thank you."
Chezarina, Gamberino and Iris share a watch with you. Gamb wants to talk about how volced up everything was last night, but Iris finally snaps at him to be quiet. The ifrit puts his hands up, a wordless apology, and goes to have a smoke on the perimeter. Iris looks at you and rolls her eyes, clearly expecting that you feel the same way.
Bye doesn't sleep, but he's not much good for watches. Except the kind that tick.
He tries to sit near people and understand how they talk and how they're quiet and how talking seems so easy for them. He still doesn't sleep.
Watches. Have to find the time.
Zephyr smiles, "The offer is appreciated, as will be the warmth. Thank you."
"Welcome," Luu Sânh replies, her mouth quirking up into a brief smile but it is a short-lived one. It stands to be a long, wearying night in many ways so she is happy to fortify herself ready for whatever may come. She is also, though she is perhaps loath to admit it, appreciative of the comradeship, a tiny step in the direction of correcting what she has lost. She half opens her mouth to say something, maybe to try and find out more about Zephyr, but she hesitates and the moment passes in silence.
It is snowing. You see fat, lazy flakes drifting all about you, as if there are no cares in the world.
As you remove the tarp, you see gray-white clouds above a landscape just starting to turn white from the snowfall. The carnage of last night --upturned roots, dead birds, elen bodies with rictus-smiles -- is slowly being covered by the cold, uncaring snow.
It is a grim morning as you eat, pack up camp, and make ready for the road. Hearth is still over a week's travel away.
"I hope Hearth will still be recognizable once we reach it." Chezarina comments grimly on the scene.
Zephyr, Anan looks worried this morning. "Emir, do you think we will witness the awful things the crows were describing?"
"I hope Hearth will still be recognizable once we reach it." Chezarina comments grimly on the scene.
"That's one way of putting it," Luu Sânh agrees. "Things look better in the snow," she comments, "it somehow doesn't look as bad when it's fresh and crisp, despite what it's hiding. But that doesn't last for long and it will soon look worse, the chaos exacerbated by slush and brown." She sighs. "That is the cycle of things, but it is not as pleasing to the eye on land as it is in the water, except for this first moment," she adds critically.
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Zephyr, Anan looks worried this morning. "Emir, do you think we will witness the awful things the crows were describing?"
"It is very hard to say Anan; sometimes I portent is meant to be expressed as a metaphor: in this case, spirits of the air, and elen of the air like us, will not long survive if Air itself is removed. That would be literal; figuratively, they could infer an actual death of the Father, which we know has not happened. That would be a significantly great portent to the cosmos."
He smiles at the acolyte
"I believe it was a message advising our diligence. To let us know how much is at stake in our quest and our drive to push back and hold of the power of the Moon Maddness."
"Have we means of pushing it back? It seems our method now is only to survive it."
"That is surely impossible," interjects Luu Sânh. "You cannot stop the flow of Mother River, to swim against the divine tide is challenging at the very least." Her knowledge of the other Gods is nothing compared to her love for River, but she is extrapolating. "Surely it would be equally difficult to tame Moon, if such a thing can even be done."
After several candles of travel, the light snowfall has ceased. You are the only creatures in the vicinity leaving footprints of any kind, adding to the sense of isolation many of you have been feeling all morning.
In the crystalline stillness, the very sounds from your conversations seem to freeze and fall to the ground. In the chaotic wake of Moon's passing, your words are etched into the dirt and snow, but they are jumbled:
"Pushing back? ** Impossible."
"Survive it? Impossible. Surely impossible."
And now the words appear one at a time on the road before you, here and there, as if they are leading you somewhere-
"and sometimes-- portent is metaphor --- and metaphors are made real --
behold His Power--
--death of the Father-
made real--
soon--
--behold the power of Moon Madness."
Topping a small rise on the road, Zephyr sees them first--
the same Vultures that heard your invitation, and called upon the self-titled Prince and heir to Father Sky (you).
They are now utterly frozen in mid-flight, like some museum display, or a conjurer's illusion. You can only guess that they were caught during Moon's journey toward Hearth.
Topping a small rise on the road, Zephyr sees them first--
the same Vultures that heard your invitation, and called upon the self-titled Prince and heir to Father Sky (you).
They are now utterly frozen in mid-flight, like some museum display, or a conjurer's illusion. You can only guess that they were caught during Moon's journey toward Hearth.
/QUOTE]
Zephyr is clearly perplexed by what he is seeing, and flies up to the nearest vulture, bending his will to determine the cause of their distress
The frozen birds are curious, stopped in motion and potentially trapped in time too, given that they are still in mid-air with gravity having not intervened. Once more a trail of mysterious magicks is leading them on. As Zephyr flies up, Luu Sânh looks up towards them, trying to ascertain what has caused them to be suspended.
Albert gives a small whistle at the strange sight; not out of irreverence, just sheer wonder at the spectacle- harbingers of death, caught and transfixed like some forgotten taxidermy experiment in the corner of a dusty old med lab.
"Well I'll tell you one thing - those are the real deal. Not just vultures, but capital V Vultures. I won't bore you with the technical list of their elemental immunities, because I think the bigger picture is how to cure them."
**
As Albert says, these are harbingers and carrion-feeders of mythical status. To have them trapped like this could only mean disaster for the supernatural balances, especially those of the Father and His children the sylphs.
You think you know of a ritual to start cleansing this area, but it will take time and concentration to do so.
**
You see the energies tangling the Vultures in place. Once again, your intuition for the shifting tension of magicks comes in handy.
1) You will be able to aid Zephyr in a ritual he is going to try
2) Your knowledge checks are good enough to know that such a ritual might attract the attention of pitiful creatures that are unable to die due to the Vulture being caught. These would be roughly the equivalent of ghouls, but without stench (and more like blood drinking and breath-stealing)