[X]Go through your demonic knowledge on what existing demons are opposite to Revelation to narrow down the search.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, and sigh. It is indeed like herding cats. You raise a hand, then just a finger. "So, what does the Voidcancer do?"
"It reverses. Frees. That which runs through it finds itself what it is not. Living becomes dead. Weak becomes strong." The Great Maker spreads his hands. "Maker becomes Made."
You nod. "So...what becomes Revelation?"
(Int+Occult, 16 dice +6 autosuccesses, 13 successes)
"Secrets," you answer, arms folded and pacing around the mass of silk at the center of the room, "We can eliminate any demon that doesn't have something to do with secrets. Those would be the most likely of any of them to be turned into a demon of Revelation."
Autochthon nods. Bannery Bu grins. "Also," you add, "Limit this to devas consumed by the Engine on Ruvelia's world. Where does that leave us?"
The black flows into the mass of threads. Cut off from Creation's mythos, it becomes part of him- the part of maddening whispers and violated boundaries. Black and Red and Hungry and Pained. "We can eliminate Ligier from that. An inverted Ligier would be a creature of pure animus, and Hunhow shows the ability to think."
"He was wielding something like the Sword of the Yozi."
"The Engine consumes and reproduces. It does not imagine or create. I could create a weapon greater than the Sword of the Yozi, but the Engine could not."
You stroke your chin, nodding. "Orabillis."
The thread runs through the black mass. What was the idea, the memories of the End of All Wisdom becomes something else. Where secrets were kept, they become revealed. Where there is punishment, there is reward.
"The End of All Wisdom becomes the Bringer of Revelation. He is Hunhow."
"Fucking figures. Even undead, he's an asshole." Autochthon grunts an agreement. "Alright. That was easy, perhaps too easy. But we're done here."
You turn back to the Great Maker, folding your arms. "I guess the spiders burn this, now? After we leave?"
"Quite. Do we now proceed to Malfeas?"
No. "No. First, I need to summon up a second circle of Orabillis to make arrangements. Then, we work out what to do from there. Besides which, I need the rest of my Circle to be on the same page regarding you."
Bannery Bu, unfortunately, could not leave Yu Shan except aboard something called the Daystar, but you made it a point to find ways to contact her. She was remarkably able to keep Autochthon on task, and you would endeavor to use her as an example. Once everyone was gathered, you made a beeline for the Gate back home and once more entered Creation's brown shores.
28 Descending Air.
Navigating Autochthonia was a lot faster when you had the Great Maker in your entourage. So when you returned from Yu Shan, it was around the end of the month and that means a New Moon. So, you ran through a list of Orabillis' second circles and decided on his Warden Soul. While Florivet was bound, he was also on Orabillis' shit list, and hence useless for this.
In your manse, you raise your hands before the summoning circle and silver sands fill the brass, the chill and empty wind of the Endless Desert filling the room.
"Hear me, End of All Wisdom. I call forth your Warden Soul. From the Crystal Treasury I call forth the dancer-
"Step forth; Homkora!"
(16 dice, 11 successes)
(10 dice, 10 successes)
(16 dice, 6 successes)
(10 dice, 5 successes)
(16 dice, 6 successes)
(10 dice, 3 successes)
The silver sands become a pillar of cecelyne glass, crystal webbings running into the sides of the circle and into the ceiling. Inside it forms a curvy and feminine figure, filled with the shifting sands like a walking hourglass.
Heh. Hourglass figure.
You get that now.
The glass pillar dissolves and becomes a woman clad like a desert dancer, a white mask covering her face and with magical lips that move in place of her hidden mouth. Obsidian orbs open, only the faintest hints of the cracks beneath the mask visible, and with a deft motion she sweeps back her fibrous hair and cocks her hips, her artifice lips perking into a smile.
"I obey, O Sorcerer," she says with a purr.
"After more than a little cajoling," you respond, folding your arms, "Homkora, you are bound to my entourage. As a first task, I need to set up a meeting with Orabillis."
She nods. "Of course. May I ask what the business of the meeting is?"
"Let's keep that a surprise."
Homkora turns, looks up, and meets the adamant eyes of Autochthon. She reacts is the sensible manner one would expect of a high immortal being that death cannot touch. Mainly, by screaming like she'd just been stabbed, backing up with her glass whip blade ready and start terror in her artifact eyes. At least, until Ruvelia places a hand on her bare shoulder, stating,
"All will be well."
Homkora turns, and stares for long moments at the dead fetich of Theion. Then turns to you.
"The fuck is this?"
After explaining situation- such as it was- to Homkora, you retired for the night. It had been far too long since you had time for such things as reading, relaxing, or just straight out exhaustion. A night of dreamless sleep was exactly what you needed, and you woke up refreshed and perky to find Sky carrying over a tray with breakfast.
You see through it instantly.
"What'd you want to talk about?" you ask.
He takes a deep breath, and gets to the point.
"Kids," he says.
You blink.
"What."
"I had a conversation while I was in the Loom," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, "I wanted to talk with you about it."
You nod, sipping your tea. But, before you can ask what exactly it is about, you hear the BOOM outside your window, and the distant but distinctive voice of Autochthon.
"Unhand me you self important Terrestrial Groinspawn!"
[ ]Ignore Autochthon, press for details with Sky.
[ ]Find out what set off the Brasshole this time.
[ ]Write in.
