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As she talks, she steadily becomes more awake and vigorous. "I've been in this cell block since I woke up. The deep ones have a leader -- a sorcerer I believe -- calls itself Itsquaal-Thoal. And there's something else, a humanoid ooze.? I don't know... I never got a good look at it." "No spells... I might be able to call Autumn, but I need an uninterrupted minute. But I'm in no condition to fight anything."
"I... I don't know," she replies, sounding dazed. "I was jumped on the street. I was on my way to meet you at the Sleepless Agency." "I'm chained to the ceiling. I tried to get Autumn to break me out, but they beat me senseless when I try. Trillis Mavaine is in here with me, but she's been unconscious, maybe in a coma."
Initially there is no response from the other prisoner, but the chains clink again. After a few moments, a familiar voice responds. "Ae-Aenian?" Winter asks, groggy and disoriented.
Winter stops and turns back, suddenly remembering something. "I'm sorry, I forgot to mention earlier... Royal Accuser Omari was planning to work out of the Sleepless Agency while she was staying in Thrushmoor. That's where I plan to meet up with her, and you can find me there as well."
Winter nods. "If you want to find the inn, Vaustin, Doctor Elbourne and I will see to the survivors." She looks around the townscape and points at a large building to the east. You can see Pharasma's spiral hanging above the doors. "There is the New Chapel. I will ask the priestess if we can shelter them there, if temporarily." "Find me there or at the Sleepless Agency later." With a quick smile, she walks over to join Vaustin on the dock.
"It's complicated," Winter nods. "Autumn is not undead; she's more of a trapped spirit. She hasn't cheated death, so to speak, for when I pass, so to will she. Even so, many of my Pharasmin peers do not truly understand my situation, and many argued to have Autumn exorcised regardless of the consequences. Happily, moderate voices prevailed." * Using a cloak to protect the pages from the rain, Ven delves into The Chain of Nights. The Chain of Nights:
Written in the late 1200s by the Keleshite doctor and seer Valhadis, The Chain of Nights explores the brain as an organ, as the lens of perception, and as the throne of something more.
The Chain of Nights is first and foremost a text on the anatomy and workings of the brain, and the first several hundred pages concern themselves with diagnosing, analyzing, and treating—via therapy, drugs, and basic surgeries—numerous physiological and psychological afflictions. Only in the final third does the tome turn toward more esoteric topics, such as the source of nightmares, accounts of the Dimension of Dreams, and descriptions of the creatures that live there.
Most notoriously, it contains an elaborate—and some say flawed—ritual for releasing one’s dreams. While the rite functions, the side effects of failure can create dangerous beings known as oneirogens.
During the boat ride, Ven is also able to sort through the mess of charcoal-marked papers. The text on the back side of the scribbling can be sorted into the proper order, but will take at least 8 - 10 hours work. The result, Ven determines, will be a book of extended summoning, keyed to the chaotic alignment.
"Winter, you were going to tell us a bit more of your past now that things have settled. Autumn and all that. Winter nods, taking a deep breath and pausing. [b]"Autumn was... is my sister, but not by blood. I am a changeling... I truly know nothing of my real parents, although folk lore says my mother was a green hag. I was raised by a foster family, Autumn's natural parents, merchants from a small community on the outskirts of Caliphas. They raised me as one of their own, and my youth was mostly unremarkable." "Autumn was older than me by a year. She was always quick and strong, much like the phantasm you've seen. I grew up alongside her, but blossomed in other ways... ways that made her jealous. We were always close, but as we grew older, she became more and more resentful." She sighs sadly, looking up at the heavy clouds overhead. "On the occasion of my fifteenth birthday, Autumn plotted a trick to embarrass me. The trick turned against her, however, and she fell from a great height. She died, painfully, and her spirit lingered to haunt me, driven by her jealousy and bitter anger. The tragic event also affected me profoundly, both emotionally and physically. Despite the one-sided rivalry, I'd always loved Autumn. Witnessing her untimely death awakened occult power from my true mother's blood, binding Autumn's restless phantom to me in a shared consciousness." "Autumn's death and my strange new powers took a great toll upon our parents. Unable to cope, they sent me away into the care of the temple of Pharasma in Caliphas. They hoped the clergy would be able to free Autumn's spirit to move on to the afterlife. Unfortunately, they only discovered that my life and her unlife were completely intertwined... to exorcise her spirit would kill me in the process. I was taken in for mentorship, and over the next few years learned to control the power of our linked spirits, how to focus them into spells, as well as enhancing the bond between me and her sister's phantom." "Eventually I became a sister of the Pharasmin church. Not a cleric or even lay priest, but I retain a special standing in the clergy. I do my best not to bring attention to Autumn -- it brings up too many difficult questions -- and most just assume I'm a minor cleric." She holds up her hands with a small shrug. "What are you going to do now?" "Now I'm going to reunite with Royal Accuser Omari in Thrushmoor and tell her what happened at Briarstone. She will want to know that Count Lowls was involved somehow, if indirectly." She looks around at the fully-loaded boats, adding, "And we need to find shelter and care for these survivors."
When Winter speaks, he stares at her a moment before answering. "Anything you can tell us about our background would be helpful. Perhaps it would trigger some memory. I pray that our former selves are not gone forever." Winter shakes her head, "Sadly, I cannot help you there. I'd never met you before you stumbled into the chapel camp a few days ago." He pauses and looks out over the water. "Now that the nightmare is over I find myself asking why in Pharasma's name we were at that asylum. Is it possible that we really were insane? Are we still insane? Did we lose our memories before or after we ended up at the asylum? Were we somehow involved in the cataclysm or were we just victims like everyone else? I intend to ask all of these questions to Lowls once we find him." "Now there, our paths are certainly aligned. When Royal Accuser Omari sent me to Briarstone, it was on a lead that Count Lowls had regular business there, and that he'd recently committed some of his associates into care. Based on what you uncovered in the asylum, you two appear to be those persons." "According to Doctor Losandro's notes, Count Lowls was very interested in Zandalus and his vivid dreams. Something she did with that book," she points at the Chain of Nights, "seems to have set off the nightmare disaster. Accuser Omari will be very interested to learn of these things... and to meet you as well. As she investigates the count's activities, she might uncover why you were sent there, and what happened to your memories."
Winter takes a break from checking on the survivors to sit with you. She speaks in a low voice, trying to keep the conversation private on the crowded boat. "On behalf of the many souls on board these boats, I want to thank you both. We were trapped in a nightmare and certainly would not have survived had you not come to our aid." "I know you still have many unanswered questions. About your past, and how you lost your memories, about... Autumn and I. I promised I would explain when the time came. What would you like to know?"
"We will have to organize some way back to the mainland. There are still sick patients here, but this place will take a long time to rebuild... if it ever does," Winter says. "I will go check on the chapel survivors. Hopefully Vaustin has kept them calm. I'll get them organized and meet you at the docks." With that, she heads off to the chapel.
"Look!" Winter gasps, pointing out through the broken wall. As the echoes of its dying scream fade, so to does the yellow fog shrouding Briarstone Asylum. Slowly but steadily, the mists retreat until they disapear completely, leaving you a clear view of the isle, the shattered remains of the asylum, and the dawning light across the eastern horizon.
Winter reacts quickly, mentally throwing a hunk of rubble at the Tatterman's head. ;
Winter hurries up to Aenian, casting a ward against evil upon him.
Winter eyes the wall of drawings with curiosity. "Did you find anything interesting, Ven?" she asks, walking towards the southern wall.
Before Aenian heads further up the stairs, Winter holds up a hand. "A moment, please." She closes her eyes and concentrates for a minute. You see a chain of emotions cross her features, from jealousy to sorrow to rage. Then, as before, the orange ectoplasm draws away from her and coalesces as Autumn. The spirit looks about to say something, but Winter silences her with a finger to her lips.
Winter nods ready. "I can use the wand the doctor gave us. Before we go, do either of you need healing?"
Winter steps to flank with Ven and slashes her claws at the oneirogen, leaving bloody marks on its arm. ; ;
Winter closes into melee, claws extended. She also keeps awake against the fog.
"I will come with you, if you will have me," Winter nods. She continues in a hushed voice, "Things are growing desperate here. We need to find some means of escape as soon as possible." As if to punctuate her statement, the ground rumbles.
"She won't like it, but I can get Autumn to help," Winter offers. "If there were a way to get ahold of Vaustin, he could muster aid from the far side."
Winter nods, "Getting around to the chapel is a trek... though its just through that rubble," she adds, pointing to the southern collapse. "Doctor Elbourne seems friendly enough, but do we risk spending time among Zandalus's followers?"
Winter nods, "I agree. People do not react well to Autumn, despite my attempts to explain, so we tend to keep her out of sight as much as possible. My Pharasmin fellows have a tough time with her also." Winter heals most serious wounds, but still looks winded. "I have expended what reserves I have. Any other healing will have to be potions or bedrest."
The paralysis wears off and Winter stands sluggishly. She puts a hand up in front of Autumn, shaking her head. "No, Autumn. They are friends, but I haven't yet had a chance to explain." "Go now. I am safe for the moment." Autumn gives Winter a sour look, but then discorporates into an orange ectoplasm and merges with Winter. Winter appears invigorated by the contact. Winter turns to Aenian, holding up her hands. "I promised before that I would tell my story when we had a chance -- Autumn is part of that. She was, or is still, my sister." Despite this claim, you realize that the two have no physical similarities. Winter is tall and lithe while Autumn's form was shorter and stocky. "She is a phantasm, a kind of ghost. She and I are bonded, in life and death, and she is also the source of my powers." "There is more, if you care to hear it, but this is not a good place or time. The important thing is that she, and I, are no threat to you."
;
Terribly wounded and looking about to collapse, Winter's muscles freeze up just before Klades cuts down the offending ghoul.
Winter hisses from the pain of her wounds, but fends off their paralyzing touch. Backed into a corner, she fights back and takes down one of the undead with her own claws. ;
Winter's eyes go wide as the gang of ghouls rush in. "Autumn, we need your help... Now!" she cries out. You see her struggling to control a wave of rapidly-changing emotions. The orange-tinged aura that protects her pulls away, spiraling up, around and down before coalescing next to Winter in the form of a ghostly, auburn-haired woman.
Winter rushes in to Aenian's side, slashing at a ghoul with her clawed hand and wounding it deeply. ; *
"More ghouls!" Winter's eyes flash fear. Again, she shrouds herself in the orange ectoplasmic shield, and also casts a ward from evil upon herself.
Winter nods, stretching her fingers. "Ready."
Winter nods her thanks to Aenian as she gets back onto her feet. She brushes herself off and examines the corpse of the creature. "It was nothing natural, that's for sure." She offers healing to you both before you continue.
Like Ven, Winter attacks from the ground, using her claws. She lands one solid hit, drawing some blood. ;
Aenian finishes it off with a driving stab. The creature howls, twitches twice, then lies still.
Winter tries again with her claws, this time raking two deep gashes across the monster's back. ;
Winter shakes off the chilling howl and steps up to Aenian's side. She again manifests talon-like claws, raking at the creature but cannot cut through its tough hide. ;
Winter tries to ineffectively wave away the mists with her hand. "Aye, that might..." Her words are cut off by a blood-curdling howl, emanating from somewhere in the mist-filled room.
"Certainly..."
"Extending the barricade all the way out here is not feasible... just too many places to cover. We don't have that many guards. We could escort Brenton up here, if the boy agrees to it. I won't drag a terrified child up through this place... and I'm just not sure what's happened to his brother in there." "Having seen what other horrors this place has spawned," she adds, eyeing Mrs Freeling, "I do not expect it to be good." "What do you think?"
"Of course," Winter replies to Ven, shaking off her distraction and walking over to heal him.
She leans down to examine one of the bodies. "Its like they were drugged out of their minds. Were the other apostles you encountered like that?" To Aenian's question, she nods, "You're right, I'm not a cleric, but I am still one of Pharasma's devoted. The claws are a part of my heritage -- one I like to keep hidden as it often raises uncomfortable questions." She sighs, ill at ease. "The ectoplasmic shield is a manifestation of my sister's spirit. It's... a long story."
Breathing heavily, more from emotional than physicial exertion, Winter retracts her long claws and tries to repair her ripped gloves. The orange plasma shield fades. As she regains control of her emotions, she casts a healing spell over her wounds.
Aenian jumps over the blood stream safely, running to Winter's aid and stabbing at Eyepatch unsuccessfully. Winter clenches her fists, face twisted in a grimace of anger and disgust. Her form outlines with an orange-tinged plasma. She drops her dagger and attacks with talon-like claws extending through her leather gloves. She rakes bloody lines into the flesh of the cawing apostle.
Aenian easily stabs the man as he struggles against the blood flow. Winter moves up behind Ven, brandishing her dagger. "Fall back!" she calls to him. "I'll cover you."
You start out but Winter holds up a hand after you exit to the corridor. "I'm not so sure. Based on what you've told me, Losandro is exhaling multi-colored vapors, not this yellow fog. She might have been responsible for it in some way, but there's no way she's the source of all this mist."
You quickly dispatch the restrained ghoul. Winter examines the corpse closely, looking even paler than normal. "Horrifying," she mutters, swallowing bile. She quickly adds another benediction to Pharasma, more earnestly this time.
Winter shakes her head sadly. She checks the note board at the bed's foot. "His name was Jeprin Mears. He was here seeking treatment for narcolepsy," she sighs, reciting another prayer to Pharasma before joining you.
Ven detects no magic from the carved knights, only some psychic significance associated with them. Winter shakes her head, frowning sadly. "This one was once a patient, too. What an awful fate." She kneels by the corpse, offering a final prayer to Pharasma.
Ven's bolt flies wide, clattering through the rubble. Snarling in disgust at the undead, Winter runs up to Aenian's side, stabbing with her dagger. ; Her strike is true, piercing the ghoul in the chest as it turns on Aenian. With a gurgling croak, the foe collapses.
"What are ghouls doing in this place?" Winter asks, her face grim. She nudges it with the toe of her boot. "You said you encountered one before?"
Winter shakes her head. "The boy hardly ever speaks. I'm not sure who Debis is. Tolman or one of the orderlies might know, or checking the patient records would certainly show. Or we could just ask him."
Winter gestures again, her face a mixture of emotions, and she hurls another brick at the northern ooze. ; The thing explodes with a loud pop, splattering Ven, Winter and the desk with acidic chunks!
Winter flinches and ducks, avoiding most of the exploding ooze. She hisses in pain as its remains burn her flesh painfully.
"What are they?" Winter recoils from the oozes in disgust. She steps towards the rubble to the west and gestures towards a chunk of stone. With a wave of her arm, she hurls the stone telekinetically at the northern ooze. ;
Winter draws her dagger and watches the surrounding fog warily. "Can you pick it or do we have to bash it down?" |
