2021-08-20 Fomorian Fomentation
From LiberationMUSH Wiki
Still Alive
Participants: Crow Mebh Bryn Mell
Storyteller: Eochaid
Location: The Sea of Dreams
Date and Time: 2021-08-02
Summary: Tying together disparate narratives in the Fomorian chain
───<Eochaid>─────────────── When he arrived at the beach The Crystal Circle Sorceror, Elim, he was in a party of six. His five compatriots, lead by the Need of the Dreaming, esatablished a Trod in the Dreaming which is tied to the guidance of the Loom of Fate. The exact particulars of how they arranged this are estoteric and unclear, but it is widely known that his five companions gave their lives and that among the ingredients used for the Working a thread, supposedly, from the Loom itself was counted. Joined now by seven of his companions from the Circle, some of whom Crow will recognise from the Deep Dreaming, they count nearly twenty and have established a series of marquees on the beach for their shelter. Around one such tent, just off the silver Path, a contingent of Gwydion Sidhe Knights lead by a Scathach Troll stand guard. Most of the parties that have ventured out have returned, though there were some deaths and some people have yet to return. There is much muttering and much frustration until a chime breaks through the hubub. "There is much to discuss," Elim says to an enraged Fiona Sidhe, "we have directed the flow of fate away from total cataclysm, yes. And, yes, your companions gave their lives so that you could bring us back literal fire from the bowels of Hell. Their losses will be added to the tally that we are keeping and a price will be extracted from the Fomorian forces tenfold. But if you'll be quiet and take your turns in explaining what you have learned, it may shed some light on the nature of the grand prophecy." Sure enough the Fiona Sidhe explains that, though they were told they would be headed to the Shadow Lands, they instead found themselves in one of the pits of Tartarus, he goes on to describe a mighty battle with a hulking winged demonic entity wrought not of Chimera or Glamour but an ephemera all its own. Nobody is sure if he's just bragging, dealing with a touch of Bedlam, or if he was literally in Hell, but the fire that he and his recovered radiates a heat like the sun itself. He concludes his report, Elim nods, his scribe takes it down and, as he does, glyphs begin to form in the air behind him. Some other working, it appears, is being undertaken. (Repose for Mell) ─────────────────────────── --------- New Activity --------- ───<Crow>─────────────── Crow arrives, as is her wont, quietly and without fanfare. Slipping into the crowd and just observing the comings and goings. Their hand rests easily on one of the pouches at their belt. Their stance is relaxed, and they listen with polite interest to the man claiming to have fought a Chimera in hell. Not going to lie, she probably would not have minded going there..... There's a slight shake of the head as they click their tongue, waiting for their Selkie companion to arrive. It was only Right and Proper that she be present for their part of the report. ──────────────────────── ───<Bryn>─────────────── Bryn, of course, gravitates toward those Sidhe knights and the troll guarding the prisoner. "Any information?" they ask quietly, pale eyes narrowed. ──────────────────────── ───<Mell>─────────────── Where horus ago, the Selkie had worn a coat of seal, now, back on the coast of the dreaming sea, she was wearing just the dress bought on the travel, the coat having turned back into the shape of a wetsuit, which she has bundled up under her arm, around something. It takes her some time to spy Crow, giving her a shy little nod. "I... I thought you were trapped in that... bubble... and... it wasn't nice when it collapsed... I am glad you managed to find here... have you seen the others? I mean... we were separated..." ──────────────────────── ───<Mebh>─────────────── Mebh, on the other hand, seems to have her hands full. She doesn't know where she got the chains of white wicker- but she does know that she put them there with sorcerous intent. Wasn't she going somewhere? All the same, she's here now, and a bound Svartal is dragged along behind. She takes a lean after she approaches the group of Sidhe and the Troll who leads them. "Ahoy there, I brought you guys a new friend, she knows a *lot* about what's going on I bet. We already had a nice chat over tea. Don't mind the chains, she's a bit kinky and nasty." ──────────────────────── ───<Bryn>─────────────── Bryn walks closer to the prisoner, sword drawn. The pale-eyed knight doesn't speak, their expression grim. ──────────────────────── ───<Crow>─────────────── Crow smiles to the Selkie, there's a small quiet laugh. "No, thank goodness. WE both seemingly managed to get out with little issue." there's a small shake of the head. "I wouldn't fear for the others yet, I imagine they'll show up in the next little while, perhaps a touch confused as to how it was they made it here." they shrug lightly. "C'est le Songe." they shake their head. They shake their head. "But. If they don't show up in short order, we'll return to the real and begin to coordinate searches for them." she lets out a long breath through her nose. "Hopsefully it doesn't come to that." They raise a brow at Mebh. And the breath that follows is, perhaps, a touch longer suffering. "Cute." they note. There's a faint roll of the eyes, but the gesture is comparatively affectionate, despite what the words might appear. "Show us?" they raise a brow in her direction. <English> ──────────────────────── ───<Mell>─────────────── Following along, Mell pulls her wetsuit in front of her, pulling it tighter as if to protect it as they walk through the gathered people, cheeks a little flushed. "at least... uh.... we managed to get what we went for.. I guess?" ──────────────────────── ───<Eochaid>─────────────── A completely incorporeal Changeling is a rare sight, seldom seen outside of Tarraroms, the Resurgence or the Evanescene; the introduction of the Savartal causes a minor stir. Collectively, the Sorcerors begin chanting, stamping their feet rhythmically and inscribing Glyphs of Arcadian script in the air in sentences so complex and involved none of you can pick apart what is being done. The air thrums with power and Elim, taking hold of the flow of Glamour, does his best impression of Gandalf. His staff slams into the ground and he points at her, the glyphs flow throught the air in streams of words and wrap themselves around the Savartal. "I name thee Truthspeaker Impuissant," he says to the Savartal, whereupon the act of Naming locks upon her. The Scathach Troll, who has prepared a room for her, takes possession of the prisoner and parts the curtain on the tent just off the Silver Path. Those who get a glance inside see what is undoubtedly a prison cell, though a humane one. Certainly better than she deserves. "You are to be commended on your captive, Lord Bryn, Knave Mebh," the archaic term for the Pooka almost certainly chosen as an act of humor rather than a slight. "There is undoubtedly more to the story." ─────────────────────────── ───<Mebh>─────────────── Mebh's eyes roll, and she sighs with a slip of the leads to another with some *actual* title, rather than just the duke's bestowments- in this case the Troll. "I'm *always* cute!" The wolf stuffs her nose up in mock haughtiness, a grin at the edge of her lips and just a little bit of fang and guile showing through the façade. It only grows when she's called a right and proper Knave, and subtly asked for more details on the event. "When am I ever not cute?" Anyways, I adopted her, named her DARK LORD SALLY SALACIOUS. The capital letters are important. She grew from an impressively goth tree branch and started worshiping me, so how was I supposed to say no? But... I guess you can have her. She's too expensive to feed." A hand reaches down to ensure that the white branch she'd taken from the spot still was tied to her hip. Good. She would need that later. "It was an impressive event, to be sure. Lots of wooshing and swooshing. A whole checkerboard of lightning, I dare say myself, with white horses biting black horses and black horses biting the white ones again, and every single time, a *very* loud neigh rocked the neighborhood. It was quite the party." ──────────────────────── ───<Bryn>─────────────── A humorless half-smile curves Bryn's mouth, and he gives a small nod of acknowledgement to the sorceror. "Definitely a party," they drawl. "We had mead, no less. We have not questioned her... I thought we might bring her to someone with greater skill." ──────────────────────── ───<Mebh>─────────────── Mebh's eyes roll, and she sighs with a slip of the leads to another with some *actual* title, rather than just the duke's bestowments- in this case the Troll. "I'm *always* cute!" The wolf stuffs her nose up in mock haughtiness, a grin at the edge of her lips and just a little bit of fang and guile showing through the façade. It only grows when she's called a right and proper Knave, and subtly asked for more details on the event. "When am I ever not cute? Anyways, I adopted her, named her DARK LORD SALLY SALACIOUS. The capital letters are important. She grew from an impressively goth tree branch- fishnets, piercings and all- and started worshiping me, so how was I supposed to say no? But... I guess you can have her. She's too expensive to feed." A hand reaches down to ensure that the white branch she'd taken from the spot still was tied to her hip. Good. She would need that later. "It was an impressive event, to be sure. Lots of wooshing and swooshing. A whole checkerboard of lightning, I dare say myself, with white horses biting black horses and black horses biting the white ones again, and every single time, a *very* loud neigh rocked the neighborhood. It was quite the party." A pause, and perk of ears, "Though I suppose that Truthspeaker Impuissant is a much funnier name." ──────────────────────── ───<Crow>─────────────── Crow nods to Mell, smiling again. "We got in, got what we went for, and got out again, and while some of us are missing, there are no injuries to speak of. A very good day." they smile faintly. "Mouse and Ambrose will show up, of this I have no doubt." There's a light pause as the Severtal is brought forward and the watch with veiled interest as she's Hexed by the circle. A grunt of understanding and appreciation for what was just done. They look to Mell. "Walk with me then, and lets present our own piece to the Circle." they smile to her, gesturing her forward. "You handled yourself admirably." They hum quietly as Mebh recounts her story. "And this, Mell, is why you don't get captured by a Pooka." they nod sagely. "Whatever actually happened will be lost under the story they think funnier." they shake their head. "But..... well played, regardless. The shape of it can be felt out, at least." they shake their head. <English> ──────────────────────── ───<Eochaid>─────────────── Elim looks at Mebh with the patience of a saint. "I'm afraid I am only barely conversant in Pooka, I believe I understood the first part, but the checkerboard is a little beyond my otherwise impressive cognitive abilities. No doubt, given you were sent there by one of the Dreaming's own Wonders, her retrieval will prove necessary to undoing the Fomorian Threat. We just cannot see how yet," however, as the Pooka's story is recorded by the scribe, new glyphs appear on the board. Though the low Arcadian glyphs still do not spell out anything remotely coherent to the casual observer, there is the sense of a higher order to them. The Scribe, and Elim both, then look to Crow to get their account, Elim eagerly expecting a delivery of some description with the bright eyed wonder of a child at Christmas. ─────────────────────────── --------- New Activity --------- ───<Mell>─────────────── "I... sure. Can you do the talking?" Mell asks as they walk towards the tent, nodding a tad at the suggestion not to get captured by Pooka. "There's... possibly the lack of ocean in prisons too..." she notes, sighing grimly. "And I really did nothing... I mean... really... I... the one thing I did didn't really change..." ──────────────────────── --------- New Activity --------- ───<Crow>─────────────── Crow frowns to Mell, though it does not seem to be on account of ire. "I think you do yourself a disservice failing to recognise your contributions...." they shake their head. "You recognised and you understood what was going on." a faint smile. "Even when I didn't." they shake their head. "But... regardless, I can do the talking, if you wish." They move forward, undoing the clasp of their pouch, and offering forth the contents, a pyramid of clearest crystal, at times only visible by dint of the edges that seem to cut at the reality around it. "The final Keystone, retrieved from Caer Angeles in the Heartbeat of it's fall, retrieved from one of your Compatriots." she offers a small sigh, shaking her head. "I didn't get her name, but she worked and using herself as a Catalyst, froze the Caer and the Thallain in the moment." they shake their head. "One heartbeat of theirs for every 100 of ours, and such held back the disaster for.... just long enough for us to retrieve our goal." they sigh. "And then, the place undone in cataclysm, and reborn in Dream." A quiet breath. "And I can confirm that... for all else. Caer Angeles still stands, though it may Echo Arcadia. It will be ready for us again, in time, should we Quest for it." they shake their head. "Though that will be some time in coming, regardless." <English> ──────────────────────── ───<Bryn>─────────────── Bryn raises both brows at Crow's tale, watching first the person, then the crystal. The pale eyes narrow as they study that strange object. ──────────────────────── --------- New Activity --------- ───<Mebh>─────────────── "Oh I couldn't understand pooka-ese if I tried, myself." She consoles the troll, an oddly genuine tone there as she settles her hands onto her hips. They tap there for a time, and she grows a bit taciturn- instead just nodding. She had no reason to play at words when Elim was being so polite in the face of her frailty. Instead- her eyes and ears are on what Crow produces from the bag. Now this- this was a thing of great interest. Her eyes light up as she looks at it- though with equal parts fascination and lack of understanding. "Is That... That's a bit of the dreaming itself?!" She seems enthralled by the prospect. Perhaps she knew- perhaps she didn't. "That's not wrought of glamour, for sure, that's..." ──────────────────────── ───<Eochaid>─────────────── "It is indeed, most perspicacious of you young Squire, it is one of six, originally three, each broken in half. Half to act as key half to act as prison. Their making and form is well beyond our making and, as far as we can tell, there have been none made since before the Interregnum. More that they pass from worthy hand to worthy hand and show up where and when they're needed. Though seldom in this shape, we will be making a weapon from shavings from them according to some plans we were given, shaving them without using iron required the hellfire," he nods at the Fiona knight, "whence our friend's mission." ─────────────────────────── ───<Mell>─────────────── "But compared to you, Milady..." Mell whispers, stopping when the soercerer starts to talk about the keystone and its significance, waiting for him to fnish before the selkie resumes her whisper to the Sidhe Baroness. "What... does it have to to with my home of Avalon though? I mean, the Avalon on the Channel Islands... Saint Catilina. I mean... The one not too far away." ──────────────────────── ───<Bryn>─────────────── --------- New Activity --------- Bryn slants a slightly worried look at Mell, shadowy empathy in their pale eyes. ──────────────────────── ───<Mell>─────────────── "But compared to you, Milady..." Mell whispers, stopping when the soercerer starts to talk about the keystone and its significance, waiting for him to fnish before the selkie resumes her whisper to the Sidhe Baroness. "What... does it have to to with my home of Avalon though? I mean, the Avalon on the Channel Islands... Saint Catilina. I mean... The one not too far away." ──────────────────────── ───<Bryn>─────────────── --------- New Activity --------- Bryn slants a slightly worried look at Mell, shadowy empathy in their pale eyes. ──────────────────────── ───<Crow>─────────────── Crow snorts. "A certain meme jumps to mind, of a certain Scottish groundskeeper in a certain yellow skinned family's show." they shake their head, but don't elaborate further. A glance is thrown in Mebh's direction, and they incline their head to her. "Something a little extra." they note to the Pooka. Their tone is mild, and their expression Bland. "Something precious enough as to warrant uttermost secrecy." they chuckle. "Leave this one be, Mebh. Some things ought not be poked." they look back to the Sorcerer. "Will the piece survive whatever it is that is happening If I were given the option, I would like to see it returned to the weave." They blink at Mell, and their expression softens. A hand lands on her shoulder and squeezes, lightly. "It is part of both key and Prison holding the Fomorian under the Isle" they shake their head. "The Prison has been breaking for some time, and my friends and I have been delaying it as best we can, collecting these pieces, that we might fight on our terms, rather than it's." they shake their head. "And I imagine that time is ticking ever closer." <English> ──────────────────────── ───<Eochaid>─────────────── The Sorceror looks offended for a moment, though not at the question, more at the thought that some harm would come to it. "The flakes of Silver Dreaming that we will shave off it, abstractly speaking, will probably not survived but the key itself will be unharmed. In as much as a bucket of water is a bucket of water if you remove a thimblefull. Time is certainly only questionably on our side, we are still travelling head long into disaster, it is now a question of what disaster and how well we can survive it." ─────────────────────────── --------- ───<Mebh>─────────────── The Pooka's left stewing amongst her thoughts. This was very much a thing she could not have, by any right, unless bestowed upon her by fate's decree- even to act as its courier. Still, her fascination for the object is endless. "A piece of the dream... halved, made physical- you mean to shave off a sliver of it? A mighty weapon indeed... beyond my kenning." A sigh. As much as she wanted the thing, to fiddle and poke and understand- it was not for her. Crow was right. "No. I understand. Even though I have not yet been properly sworn to the old house, I still... happen to find myself with the same inclinations. Disaster besides, we should at least have sails for the ship- strong sails." ──────────────────────── --------- New Activity --------- ───<Mell>─────────────── "eh... I get that Milady but.. I mean... what does it mean to the island? Will it be... safe to live there? I mean... otherwise we should make sure to evacuate the people..." Mell adds with low voice, the shoulder quivering a tad. "It would be bad if they... got cought in between." ──────────────────────── ───<Bryn>─────────────── Watching Mell with that same pained empathy, Bryn glances to Emil for whatever the sorcerer's response might be. "Is there anything to be done?" ──────────────────────── ───<Eochaid>─────────────── The Sorceror nods at Mell "The Prison does not press into the Autumn Realm, it swiss cheeses into the Spirit and Shadow Realms, but we have allies in the Nunnehi and the Keremet who are dealing with those realms. There are mortal agencies that we have dealings with that will handle any mundane matters." A fifth batch of adventurers get ready to give their report and Elim gestures that he is needed elsewhere. As with all of the reports thus far, as the details get taken down, glyphs appear on the board, filling out the shape of things to come. ───────────────────────────
