Ebeli Quest: How to Manage your Plot Devices and Save Creation

[GreggHL]

[X]Apologize for the demons and calm them down.


So you flare your anima to it's full level, flashing with golden brilliance on the platform above the city itself. You are completely rational and sensible and must make them understand that there is no true danger.

"Fear not!" you declare, arms out, hands open, the light silhouetting you, "You believes these demons are a danger? I am not so rank and file a summoner that I would bring any unbound! I am Ebeli, founder of House Ebeli! The greatest summoner in All Creation, and I have bound those greater than the Gods!"

Ligier bows, magnificently.

"I have bound forces from beyond the Universe itself!"

Ruvelia curtsies with a smile.

"I have bound that which would feast upon the shadowed recesses of the human soul!"

"But she's still helping clean up Noss Fens," Ray adds.

You turn, hand extended to your crowd of First Circle Demons. "So I command you- return through the portal. To my Manse, and await my return!"

The Blood Apes shrug, and herd the entourage through the watery portal and back into Creation. You turn to the crossbow-carrying troops, and nod.

(Charisma+Occult, 13 dice, +5 successes, 10 successes)

Hesitantly, the defenders of Ot lower their crossbows. "What about Florivet?" Sky asks.

"What about Florivet?" You give a dismissive glance to your pirate second circle, who has found a metal crate to sit on, and turn back to the defenders and Shell, who lowers herself from the sky via plasma jets. Then turn to Shell, who's still at your side, and back to the other Shell.

"Wha?"

"More were sent it seems," Shell says, shrugging and walking from your side to her apparent twin. You do notice the cosmetic differences. Shell's robes have a white trim to them- the other has a black trim. Shell has starmetal highlights in her hair, and the new girl has what looks like moonsilver running through hers. The faces are the same, the build the same.

(Int+Occult, 10 dice, 4 successes)

And the general level of enlightenment is the same.

"You've returned," the second 'Shell' says, "You have grown in power."

Shell nods. "Right. Ebeli, Sky, Gaist, Ray. This is Perceptive Observant Quorum. Another split from Igon."

Quorum nods to you. She then turns to your demons, and narrows her eyes.

"Also, this is Ligier, the Green Sun. And Ruvelia, the Cerulean Star," Shell adds.

"I was informed that Breakers were brought into Autochthonia," Quorum says.

"Bound," you add, arms folded, lips pursed. You look up- the direction of Up doesn't lead to sky. It leads to a second floor, where you see people walking along upside down. Or maybe you are upside down, and they are right side up?

You don't know.

"Well." Ligier claps two hands together with a grin. "This is wonderfully fascinating, but we would like directions to the Pole of Crystal. I do need to wake up Autochthon so I can begin repairs."

The soldiers stare at Ligier. Quorum's lips become a straight line.

"I'm sorry?"

"Is there a Gate system? Some way for an ease of access to the Godhead?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the headache coming on. Ruvelia places a hand on her Prince's shoulder.

"Ligier? Stop."

And, miracles of miracles, Ligier nods and takes a step back. Well, that's useful. "So is there any known path to get to the Pole of Crystal?" you ask.

"No," Quorum states, without a moment's hesitation. She then turns, as an airship- a dirigible of some sort- descends towards you. "Your entrance has created issues. The Tripartite wishes to meet with you."

[ ]Go straight to the Tripartite.

[ ]Have the airship take the scenic route.

[ ]Get to know Quorum. Is she Shell's sister? Clone? Twin?

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X] Have the airship take the scenic route.
-[X] Ask Quorum to come along so we can get to know her better during the trip.


The airship had a pilot. Ray then used one of her presence charms to fake authority and had him leave the ship. Inside the cockpit, you look at the controls- brass knobs, levers, a naval-type steering wheel. Unlike the sleek controls of Ray's airship, it was much more naval.

"Florivet. Give us the scenic route."

The furry pirate demon ambles over to the wheel, pulling the knobs with practiced ease, and the airship takes off.

"Been, what? Five thousand years since I've piloted something in the big old brasshole, has it?" He takes a swing of his rum. "At least this one isn't made by him! The last one of his I tried to lift fought back!"

So he had been paying attention over the two months you've been involved in this. Good to know.

"Ruvelia," Ligier says, slouching regally in one of the cockpit chairs, "What was Florivet's fate on your world?"

"Consumed by the Engine of Extinction."

Ligier nods, his body language saying, 'And so nothing of value was lost.'

"Well with our luck that cancer-demon the Sorceress banished is going to be some sort of undead poncy Oraballis," Florivet adds with a shrug, "Wonder if it actually managed the impossible and pulled the stick out of his arse?"

Ah, yes. You remember the other reason you summoned Florivet. Commiserating on what an asshole Oraballis is. "Keep her steady, Captain. We want a good look at Ot."

You turn back to the others, leaning on the window frame of the cockpit, and avoiding the judging stare from Quorum. "So, thoughts?"

"Aren't the glass walkers from the Pole of Crystal?" Ray asks.

"Good point," Sky adds, "We could ask them how they got to Creation, and use that."

You nod. "However," Ligier adds, "Most likely the way to the Godhead is metaphorical as well as physical. Might I offer a suggestion, Sorcerer?"

"Sure."

"May I have a prayer strip?"

Ray shrugs and pulls one out of her tool belt, handing it to Ligier. You cock an eyebrow, watching the Green Sun scribble upon it with blood- hopefully his own- before incinerating it in emerald flame.

"Who'd you contact?" you ask.

"Ku," Ligier responds, "He's the most proactive one."

Quorum sputters. "You-" She opens her mouth, closes it. "You don't just send missives to Divine Ministers."

Ray puts an arm around Quorum's shoulders, hugging her. "No, we didn't. Ligier did! Because they go back. You know him, right?"

"I know Ku well," Ligier says, arms folded, grinning, "I'd say out of all the Divine Ministers, he is the one to hold my respect. Of course, he would most likely have some sort of task for us in return for passage to the Godhead."

Quorum continues to stare- both at Ligier, and you. Possibly for letting this happen. So, you change the subject and turn to Shell.

"So what's the story? Are you sisters?"

"Alchemicals don't have immediate family," Shell says with a shrug, having found a seat on the bridge, "But Quorum and I are both splinters from Igon. I'm just the newest one."

"And somehow you are now a Colossus," Quorum states.

Shell nods. "We had a tour of the Primal Forge."

Quorum blinks. "The what?"

"The workshop of the Great Maker."

"The what."

Florivet clears his throat. "View's out the window, Sorcerer."

You turn from the adorably flustered sister of your adorable alchemical sister, and walk to the window. Eyes go wide, and you see it. Immense brass disks, rotating independently, in between great layers of metal illuminated by the thoughts of the titan.

Lights flicker over the surface of Ot, over the surface of the immense Exalt. You can tell, even from here, that they are all parts. People. Sections of the city covering the surface and interior of the twin discs of the patropolis.

Gaist laughs. "This is made by humans?"

Shell nods.

"Good. This is good," the Dragon King says, patting her on the shoulder, "This is very good."

"And brass," Ligier adds, "If not for the fact that this was cut off from Creation, I imagine I would have been here quite often."

You nod, arms folded. "Take us in, Captain. Nice and slow."

[ ]Go straight to the Tripartite. They do want to meet with you.

[ ]Go off exploring in Ot. Get to know the city a bit better.

[ ]Send a message to the Clay Man and Glass Walkers to head to Ot.

[ ]Don't go to Ot. You have an airship. Go exploring the Realm of Brass and Shadow.

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Send a message to the Clay Man and Glass Walkers to head to Ot.


"So where can we get a hat around here?"

You turn to Ray, visibly confused about the random statement. Then shrug and turn back to the landing platform that the airship descends upon. Course of action decided upon, you sent off an infallible messenger towards Pants, the leader of the Glass Walkers. The Tripartite was the government.

Shell agreed that the government was likely to waste your time, and it would be better to wait until Ku got in touch with you.

You disembark on the brass platform, overlooking a horizontal drop of several hundred feet because of how gravity works here.

"We need to go to the Tripartite," Quorum says, once again.

"No." You turn, walking backwards so you face Quorum. "We need to wake up the Great Maker. I don't think the Tripartite can really help us with that."

Quorum blinks. "We need the agreement of the Divine Ministers to do that."

Ligier laughs magnificently. "Luckily, the Sorcerer has in her service the Green Sun!"

"Who is that?" Quorum asks. Ligier stares at her. Ruvelia covers her mouth to mask her laugh.

"I am the Green Sun."

"Oh."

"And how would that make the Divine Ministers agree to wake the Great Maker?"

Ligier says nothing for long moments. "I can make them agree."

You hold up a hand and look up. Left? Maybe the same thing. Gravity is weird in this city. You look up at the ceiling streets to try to figure out how to get back to the Breakthrough from here. Quickly tuning your sight to supernal, you try to trace a path.

Then Sky does it faster than you and pulls you along, following your husband towards what appears to be a conveyor belt of walking platforms.

Needless to say, your group gets attention. The predominant fashion in Autochthonia seems to be ill-fitting jumpsuits, long coats, and similarly baggy clothing designed for function rather than form. So, when the Green Sun strides shirtless through the streets, a following develops.

Not to mention the eight foot tall dragon king walking alongside Sky. Aaaand then there's Ruvelia, who has people falling to their knees in supplication as you pass. Which does let you get a bit more comfortable, as you are a V'Neef but you're not the sort of social butterfly Mother is.

Hm. This is a foreign city, but still, you needed a base of operations.

So, you turn to the Green Sun.

"Ligier. Secure a workshop for us."



Later.

It took two hours for Ligier to secure a workshop. A brass half dome built into the outer edge of the top disc, Ligier refurbished it.

Sitting in the high back, perfectly comfortable brass chair, you sip your tea as the immense chimes built into Ot sound out the time. It has been two days since you entered Ot, and you have yet to meet with the Tripartite. Quorum stopped protesting somewhere around the first day, and instead enjoyed the tea and snacks you had brought from Creation.

The Glass Walkers and one of the Clay Man's human sized avatars arrived on the second day. Glass Walkers were religious pilgrims, and few gave any thought to an Alchemical walking through- even if he was a foreign one. There was more than one breakthrough, after all.

The glass walkers meditate, communal dreaming. Ligier had brought a bellows into the sitting room of the workshop, and let loose a cloud of black smoke which hovers, solidifies, and becomes a black skull.

"There you are," the disembodied head of Ku says, "You've brought Ligier. Under most circumstances, the Fetich soul of Malfeas would not be welcome. However, he is bound and you have convinced him to repair the Great Maker?"

You nod.

"If I can ask, how?"

Ruvelia smiles, waving.

"Right," Ku states. Then turns back to you. "Don't tell me how, it will only raise more questions. You need to access the Pole of Crystal and wake Autochthon, correct?"

"Yes," you reply, sipping your tea, "How involved are the Divine Ministers in the process?"

Ku sighs. The floating head dips lower. "All eight Divine Ministers must agree to wake Autochthon in order to wake him. This is, on paper, the method involved. However, the Divine Ministers have not agreed on anything for the entirety of the Great Shutdown."

"I imagine the issue could be forced," Ligier states.

The head of the minister turns to face Ligier. "Does that imply violence against the other Ministers?"

"Perhaps."

"And like that you have my full support," Ku says, and turns back to you, "Getting to the Pole of Crystal is not easy, however. The sole entrance for physical beings is within the Monument Garden. Other entrances would most likely not be accessible or would kill you."

You nod. "And how do we get to the Monument Garden?"

"It is a structure of the Great Maker's dreams. Normally, one accesses dreamscapes of Primordials through places of distinct memory or significance. These tend to be sparse in the Pole of Metal, however."

"Because much of this was established when he was asleep," you say, folding your arms, "We might be able to use the Door in the Forge to get to it, but that would involve-"

"Nullspace," Ku says, "Hazardous under the best of conditions."

And then Shell claps her hands. She smiles brightly, standing up.

"Yes?" Ku asks.

"We told him about the Viator's attack when we were in his dream," she says, "There's an entrance at Jast!"

[ ]Go to Jast, access Monument Garden, get hat.

[ ]Go to Forge, access Door, brave nightmare realm, get hat.

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Go to Jast, access Monument Garden, get hat.


It was a given that you were on a timetable. Hence, you decided it would be best to meet with the Tripartite after waking the Great Maker. Save the world(s) and then play politics. A Solar's job is never done.

The Glass Walkers had resumed their pilgrimage, determined to travel through Creation. The Clay Man, on the other hand, opted to remain with you. This was his father you were going to heal, after all. Apparently his dreaming with Autochthon had healed some rifts.

"So, who are you?" the Clay Man asks, sitting in the non-forge room of your workshop.

"Ruvelia," she answers with a curtsy. She does that. A lot. It suits her.

The Clay Man nods. "And how are you not dead?"

"I was summoned from an alternate universe. Ironically, one where your father succumbed, and may be the root of our troubles."

The Clay Man contemplates this for long moments. Then pinches the bridge of his nose. "When my father is healed and awake, and this business is settled, I believe I shall write a book."

"And what shall you call it?"

"This Shit Makes No Sense. It seems as good a name as any."



So, after some planning, you all hopped into Shell's colossus form- with Quorum in her colossus form, having sent messages to other avatars to meet up at Jast- and took off for the abyss where Jast fell. What also struck you as interesting was how similar Quorum's colossus form was- Shell's was bigger, but both resembled immense magitech felines, with Quorum's alloyed with Blue Jade. Perhaps it was a sign of personality? She was colder than Shell, and Blue Jade is associated with ice.

Shell's colossus was alloyed with Black Jade. That was Water, and water was fluid. Which makes some sense, as Shell seemed to be very good at changing her opinion on things.

It takes a week of steady flying to get to the chasm that Jast fell into. With no sign of a dream entrance, you descended into the depths. Hours passed and the lights of the two colossi were the sole illumination. You only saw ravaged brass and stains from where the mortals within Jast scraped against the sides during the eternal drop.

"There's nothing."

You stand in the cockpit with Shell, the Clay Man, and Sky. Ray has Ligier and Ruvelia in Quorum's cockpit.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"I've scanned for essence signatures at the bottom," Shell says, sitting in the pilot's seat, hands on the controls, "No essence. It's a Blight Zone."

Oh, she's told you about those. The Clay Man closes his eyes with a heavy sigh. "That means Traveler was telling the truth, doesn't it?" Sky says.

"And Traveler is now not my father's Fetich," the Clay Man says, "And instead has been repurposed as a war machine?"

Shell nods, face grim. "Setting us down at the city. Hopefully close to the core."

You can feel the wrongness of the area even through the protective armor of the colossus. Your own defenses active, you walk with the others along the black and gray metal that makes up the floor of the abyss. All around you, rings of burnt brass form layers of hollowed destruction.

Even in the dim light of the bottom of the world, you can make out shapes. Immense constructs, colossi pinned to the high walls around you. Pinned in place, dead and dying by spikes of soulsteel. The bodies of mortals, hollowed out physically and spiritually, strung like decorations.

The weight and darkness of the despair burns away against the cerulean flame that surrounds you. The Clay Man folds his arms and looks over the grisly displays above.

"So why is Jast significant? Because Jarish was his favorite of the Eight Heroes?"

Shell has her beamklaive out. Quorum has a starmetal wired autocrossbow ready. You take the hint and summon your staff from Elsewhere.

"He did say he appreciated her and she understood him," Shell says, "Presumably there's an entrance to the Memorial Garden here because of this, but this is a Blight Zone."

You can feel the eyes on you, all around you. Never close enough to be threatening, but passive. Watching. "Fix beetles," Quorum explains, "Not blighted, though. If we do not approach, they will stay away."

The two alchemicals lead you through the ruins of the city. Past fallen towers, the cracked remains of alchemicals, pools of liquid with stench that you can't identify.

Through the city, and towards a tower that still stands. Something pulses, glowing at the center. What looks like a humanoid form- but at the same time wrapped, cocooned. Embryonic.

Your essence sight tells you what it is- an Alchemical Exalted. An old and powerful one, still living. Still whole, despite the centuries.

Ruvelia extends her flame, restoring hope to the darkness.

You are here, the alchemical says, Shining Kings of Creation. Fellow champions.

"Jast," Shell says, voice shaking with wonder. With revelation.

She stirs. She has noticed you. But if you are to save the Great Maker, you must stop her.

"Who?" you ask.

Lights along the tower draw your attention. Lines of bulbs leading up, up towards its peak-

And you see a cracked crystal, split in twain. Pure, undiluted adamant. With lines of black forced through it like water splitting rocks.

"Right," the Clay Man says, "Jarish was his favorite, yes? She understood him?"

Shell nods.

"Then I think we have a problem-"

The voice rings out. Clear as bells. Beautiful and dissonant. A single note, then another. Then a third, tearing through the world around you.

"What is that?!" you yell.

"Our problem!" The Clay Man slams a fist into the ground. Electricity rages around him, around you all, into a dome protecting you. "Because if she understood my father, understood him past his Design-"

You hear it. An immense shape, as large as a colossus. At the center of it, a woman preserved against time, her face lined with black. Singing of lost love, of understanding leading to madness.

"Then that means she understood his sickness."

The armor around the woman closes. Into an immense, warstrider-sized construct of polished brass, in the effigy of a mechanical woman in a flowing gown. With the effigies of countless dead hanging from her like decorations.

JOIN BATTLE:
Song Maiden of the Void
Jarish​

[ ]Burn it with fire! Cast Flight of the Raptor!

[ ]Burn it with sunlight! Use a Crucible of Tarim vial and hit it with Light of Solar Cleansing!

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Burn it with fire! Cast Flight of the Raptor!


Join Battle Rolls:
Jarish (20 dice, 16 successes)
Ebeli (10 dice, 3 successes)
Ligier (20 dice, 12 successes)
Gaist (9 dice, 5 successes)
Clay Man (15 dice, 8 successes)
Shell (12 dice, 8 successes)
Quorum (12 dice, 6 successes)
Sky (12 dice, 8 successes)
Ray (13 dice, 9 successes)
(Ruvelia works under special timing. Florivet has drunk himself into a stupor and is hiding behind something durable)

The immense magitech construct sings a beautiful falsetto, approaching on a plume of crimson flame. Which you realize are plasma array thrusters, giving you a moment to break for cover out in the open when her opening note releases a shockwave that throws up rust and warps metal around you all.

"Shell!" Sky yells, "How do we kill it!"

"Fire is good," Shell yells back, ducking behind a nearby pillar, "Fire is very good!"

The impromptu warstrider- because that's what it is due to it having a pilot- quickly tears through Shell's pillar by dint of the spinning blades around it, bouncing off Shell's energy shield. Then responding with a volley of missiles which miss Shell, but still send her back.

"Hey question-" Ray yells, climbing atop one of the remaining pillars, "Shell, any conflict of interest? Because this is the Hero you kind of worshipped?"

"She is so Void Tainted that I can see the Engine of Extinction's hand in the back of her throat!" Shell flickers and appears next to you, her plasma jets still glowing. "She is also mortal! Which means that she should be dead!"

"See, this is why we like you." You pat her on the shoulder. "You're open to new ideas. Also, Ligier? Burn it."

Ligier steps forward, sword floating by his side. He raises a hand and the ground beneath Jarish erupts in emerald flame, making the armor glow red hot and the thing scream. But it isn't a scream of pain. Instead, it is a high note.

So you see it a split second before it happens, and yelp, climbing up the pillar before the beams of crimson light cut through where you just were. You quickly glance to your side- the Clay Man has his own shield up, having pulled Quorum out of the line of fire. Sky is standing on the side of one of the pillars. Ruvelia floats above the slicing beams.

And through Jarish's chorus, you hear something. Skittering.

"Gremlin fix beatles," Quorum yells.

"How many?" Shell yells back.

"All of them."

And that's when thousands of glowing red beetles- each about the size of your arm- flood from every vent, crack, and crevice to join in. "Well shit," you breathe.

"A mortal should not be giving us this much trouble!" Ray yells, and leaps off of the pillar to grab Jarish, wrapping both arms around the warstrider's neck and squeezing.

Jarish responds by forming a burning, crimson halo over her and bringing it down, the light blinding everyone and burning the ground beneath. You cover your eyes to keep your vision from going white.

Ray leaps off before it can burn her. Sky dives down, wreathed in golden essence, driving his anima sword into the warstrider's chest. It drives into the front, bursts out of the back. The Clay Man blasts from cover and slams a fist into the metal skirts. Both strikes pick the construct up and send it flying across the impromptu arena, through another pillar and through the growing mob of fix beetles.

Which you notice are surrounding everyone. Forming a mass of corrupted metal carpet, already up to your ankles.

"I really don't want to know what happens when we hit full saturation!" you yell.

Shell pulls out a vial, pops the cork, and throws it to the ground. Sunlight, from anima and whatever light source pervades Autochthonia, brightens. Warms. Erupts, into a blinding flash of sorcerous energy that incinerates the fix beetles by the hundreds.

And that was why you gave everyone a vial with Light of Solar Cleansing.

More beetles flood in. Some carrying things with them. Immense arms made of welded girders. Skeletal remains of dead Alchemicals. Jarish bursts from the ground, discarded and cracked soul gems from the dead alchemicals rising to fill the hole Sky blasted into her, her singing once more reaching contralto.

You bring down your staff and swing at empty air.

And, like you suspected, it deflects the red hot beam. Once more, you marvel at your Genius.

"She dead," you shout, "She's acting out a passion play! She's following a script!"

Oh, and she's also damn fast. Which you realize when she hits the song cue for 'spin with all the blades' and she bears down on you like a twenty foot tall death top. Thankfully, Sky is in front of you in a flickering blur, parrying the sword strikes with Stone Splitter. The both of you back up, pressed against the far wall by Jarish's onslaught.

Then the verse changes and she begins peppering Shell and Ray with missiles. At least until Gaist appears out of fucking nowhere, grabbing onto her head and pouring down the eye sockets.

"Kill it with fire?" Sky asks.

You cup your hands together, and form the spell.

"Killing it with fire."

It takes a brief five seconds to form, but shapes into a golden egg. It cracks, explodes, and from it births an eagle of brilliant yellow flame. It flies, flies true, and shrieks in victory before slamming into the back of the warstrider.

A brief second, and it explodes. The world around Jarish erupts in flame, scoring the ground and slagging armor. The explosion tears metal, melts the ground beneath, and sends stray fix beetles burning and flying into the air.

You pump your fist. You don't get to kill nearly enough things with that spell!

And then you realize it's not dead.

Instead, Jarish sings. A different song than the one before, a single woman contralto in some dead language. Or maybe mad language. But arms out, motioning like an enormous opera singer, she sings. She sings, and the words dig into your ears, into your eardrums, into your spine.

It is a sad song. A traumatic song. A song of madness and death, and you've been around enough Abyssals to recognize this charm, grabbing your ears and clenching your eyes shut.

Then blue flame washes over the world. Floating, Ruvelia sings, turning Jarish's solo into a duet. Black mist meets blue flame and where the cerulean light touches is healed. Her light dispels the darkness, her hope against despair.

The flame burns away the mist, and there seems to be a moment where Jarish is once more lucid. Followed by the discarded beamklaives rising from the alchemical corpses and hurling through the air at Ruvelia.

They stop before they can reach their target. Holding his blade, appearing before his counterpart, Ligier parries each blade out of the air in a blur of motion- appearing in multiple places simultaneously, perfectly.

Principle of Motion, you realize. You've never seen it in action before, but yes. There is a brief moment where you see ten Ligiers at once, and then there is one.

"Sorcerer," he says, "Might I suggest getting behind Inquisitive Smiling Shell's shield? This creature is no longer amusing."

You nod. "Don't kill Jast."

And you grab Sky's wrist, pulling him with you over to Shell. She spreads her arms, and the crackling lightning dome forms around the three of you. You glance to the sides to see the others under Quorum and the Clay Man's, and Ligier levels a hand at the warstrider. Fix beetles crawl over it, fixing, enhancing, rebuilding.

A transparent sphere appears in Ligier's hand, and you know what it is. He speaks a name and you feel the weight and power behind it.

"Hear me, and rejoice. I speak my secret name, and call upon you as times ancient. I bind myself and my heart to my will!"

Cracks appear in reality behind him.

"I stand in the present and before the past, and call upon your rage to burn a path to the future!"

Emerald fire leaks in from the cracks. Flowing into the sphere.

"Hear me, King of Kings. Hear me, Demon Emperor. Wash away this corruption in your cleansing flame."

The flame flows into the sphere. It glows, brighter and brighter.

"Hear me, Malfeas! Hear me and obey! Bring forth-"

The sphere shines like the green sun at Hell's heart.

"Total Annihilation."

The sphere flies true, burying itself in Jarish's chest. A split second and it detonates. Emerald flame washes over the world, melting metal, incinerating the fix beetles, and making the world featureless viridian. Save for the silhouette of Ligier himself, arms folded and laughing magnificently.

Even through the shield, you can feel heat and brilliance and anger. The silhouette of Jarish appears briefly before it vaporizes, the metal reduced to gas and the form within it finally at rest. Just as quickly as the flame releases, it vanishes, sucked back into Ligier's hand.

He sheathes his sword, and turns to you.

"The Metropolis core is unharmed."

Shell drops the shield. The world dims- not because of darkness, but because the metal is no longer red hot.

"I thought the spell makes everything toxic," you state.

"When a sorcerer uses it," Ligier says, and walks past to you Ruvelia. He bows to one knee. "You are unharmed?"

Ruvelia smiles, patting him on the shoulder. "Of course. You would never allow me to come to harm, my Prince."

The immense, central pillar holding Jast's core glows brightly. You walk over to it along with Shell, who falls to one knee. "Jast. You were lost against the Viator."

"This form is lost. It will require reincarnation. Why do you come?"

"We seek a path to the Monument Garden and the Pole of Crystal," you explain, "We have come to heal the Great Maker."

"The Great Maker knows of your plight," Shell explains, "He may dream of this place. That will provide an entrance."

The core flickers and glows. "And how will you gain entry, should it be here?"

Okay. She's got you there. "I have that in hand," Ligier yells, "Collect its soul if you will."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You need to get this plan better outlined. "Right. Shell?"

Shell shrugs, and rises up on her plasma thrusters. Reaching above the core of the city, she extracts a sphere from the pillar. Banishing it to Elsewhere, she lands next to you and you walk back to Ligier.

"So how are we getting in?" you ask.

Ligier smiles. "A door opens both ways. I have told Ku of how this city is itself an immense blight zone, filled with Void Cultists."

You blink. "We're the only ones here."

Then there is...something. An opening in space before you all, rippling into a portal to someplace familiar. Something emerges- flows out. Flows like gas. Like smoke. No, not like.

An immense cloud of black, choking smoke that forms into something serpentine and powerful and hungry. It levels its snout at you and hisses, eyes of emptiness and a maw of basest malice sucking the light and warmth of the empty city.

"There is no life here save you," it hisses, "Shall I consume you instead?"

You glance at the still open portal. Then back at the serpent.

"So who're you?"

Shogun of Genocide
Oberashti
​

[ ]Make a break for the Monument Garden.

[ ]Kick his ass!

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Make a break for the Monument Garden.


"Neat," Ray says.

Then Sky reflects light off of his sword and Ligier brings up a wall of green fire, blinding the...

(Int+Occult, 12 dice, 6 successes)

Lesser Elemental Dragon of Smoke which is on the cusp of becoming some sort of Death Kukla, but you can examine that later. Instead, Sky grabs your wrist and the lot of you dash into the portal into the Monument Garden.

This is familiar.

"So here we are again," the Clay Man says, "I wonder if Father is watching us. We could always make this nice and awkward."

Ligier gives the mountains surrounding the stone garden an approving nod. "We should find an entrance to the Pole of Crystal. The dragon will pursue."

You hear a soft 'eep' from Quorum. You turn to Shell.

"I've heard rumors," Shell explains, walking alongside you as you pass a moving display of extinct bird people, "Oberashti. Ku's best weapon. The Minister uses it to sterilize cities that threaten the health of the Great Maker."

"So a living Soulbreaker Orb. That's great." You sigh, and then remember something. You got a look. A goooood look. "Say, do all smoke dragons have gremlin syndrome?"

Shell stares at you. She then pinches the bridge of her nose and mutters a swear. "No. No, that's very bad."

You look around, spinning. The Garden is itself much like the dream. Perhaps the same place? Primordial anatomy is weird. Sky nods to Ray, and Ray vanishes from sight, from awareness, almost from memory. So, ambush. It would be a good thing to set up.

"If we need to deal with Oberashti, we will," Shell says, "Our main goal, however, is finding a way to the Pole of Crystal."



There are thirteen mountains. Each of them, Ligier identifies as you walk through the garden, under arches of long-lost giants and in the shadow of trees of light. "Ta'akozoka, the Great Tentacled One," Ligier says, pointing to a mass of tendrils atop one of the mountains, "Not the most dignified of deaths."

"She was killed by a dam, wasn't she?" you ask.

Ligier nods. "I am not sure which enraged Kimbery more. Her death, or the method of death."

You shrug. The air has become heavier- scratchier. You know that the dragon has followed you in, hunting for you. But the Garden is immense, and finding you would take time. Hopefully long enough for you to make it to the exit.

Immense stone spiders on platforms above sing. You pass beneath, and the Clay Man gives them an approving glance.

"So, did the Great Maker create your sword?" Ligier asks, turning to Sky.

"Not sure. I know Debok Moom wanted it, though."

Ligier nods. "He would. He has a fetish for ancient weaponry. Although he never attempted to take my blade, at least not after the first time."

Ligier gives appreciating glances to the statues, the clockwork music filling the air. "The craftsmanship is excellent, and definitely his." You walk underneath clockwork gears with strings marionetting immense tentacles on high. "And respectful. Curious."

"Why?" you ask.

"The Great Maker hated Theion. Hated his kin. It is odd to see a respectful memorial to those who died in the war."

You nod. "Then we should head to the center. You'll like what he has there."



You were certain that the dragon was in the garden. There was heaviness in the air. Not choking- but the air was thicker. Like trace smoke permeating the air. So, you probably had only so much time until the dragon found you.

So you lead Ligier through the garden. It was vast, but the distances were arbitrary. Primordial anatomy, after all, was kind of messed up. But more than a place of sculpture and machine, this was a place of thought. Of art.

These were artifacts. Self repairing. Self maintaining. Moving testaments of things lost in the tides of war.

At the center of the garden, you stand before the sculpture of the woman standing by Ligier's side.

For long moments, the Green Sun looks upon the sculpture of the woman upon the white tree throne.

"It is magnificent," Ligier says, "The mechanisms in it are so fine as to be invisible. Like all of this, it is his craft, but refined enough to look like they were never lost."

Ruvelia walks around the effigy. Her feet float bare inches above the ground, and she smiles. "These aren't monuments to victory. More regret, more grief."

"Justified regret," Ligier answers, turning to his sister, "His actions brought war, brought death."

"Would you judge him for actions he seeks to rectify?" Ruvelia folds her hands at her waist, floating around the sculpture to her brother. "It was Autochthon who asked the Sorcerer to meet your price. Perhaps it was only to see me, but I am here. I see all, for was I not Theion's omniscience? I see that the Maker hated Theion. But he hated himself more, for his weakness, for his loneliness."

She unfurls blue flame between her hands and it spreads out. Lighting the center of the Memorial Garden, and the clockwork music becomes wind born chimes. Not of regret and mourning, but of memory.

"Light brings light. See how the light illuminates this memorial. See how memory brings hope and healing. It is all too easy to give ourselves over to the traumas of the past and allow pain to define us. But there is hope, and that is the medicine that cures such blights."

She floats down, and places her hand on Ligier's shoulder.

"Ask yourself- why is Malfeas brass?"

"I believed it was because of Autochthon, having vengeance upon Theion."

"Maybe in part," Ruvelia says, and smiles, "But you have always worked brass, from the Times of Glory to this day. Perhaps, Malfeas defined himself by what he had left."

She cups his face, meeting his eyes. "For you, and for him. When the burdens of our past bring us low, we must find the strength to release it. If you cannot give yourself permission to start over, then I can. You are forgiven."

There are tears in your eyes. Maybe from this. Maybe from the dust in the air. Oh, shit, not dust. "He's here," you shout.

You look up. Up and up. The immense maw of the black smoke takes on a draconic visage.

"Conservators. You hide in the dreams of a dying god. But all things die, even him."

The smoke swirls about. Choking black fills the world. Erodes the stones around you, and eats away at the monuments.

"You would destroy these works to kill mortals?" Ligier seems unaffected, even as the breath burns in your lungs.

"What worth are works when there is life to end?"

Then there is light. First emerald, blazing upwards as fire. A perfect and precise beam of viridian flame that pierces the smoke dragon, and you see that smoke does indeed burn. Despite which, the flame doesn't burn you. Doesn't burn the garden.

Ligier extends a hand, and Ruvelia rests her hand on his. Sapphire mixes with emerald, and the light flares. First to white, then to colorless. It washes out the world, and the last thing you see is the widening eyes of Oberashti.

And then

Then

There is a voice in the void.

A voice from on high, like thunder from the mountain

And it

Says,

Be.

Not.​

Vision returns, and Oberashti is gone.

Ended, dead. The air is breathable and Gaist is laughing. You turn to the dragon king, who wipes tears from his eyes. "You know, normally I'd be aghast seeing that in action but the dragon was asking for it."

Ruvelia claps her fingers. Sapphire flame extends and the air before the effigy of her folds out, into a doorway. An entrance, into a realm filled with perfect order and crystal clarity.

"The Pole of Crystal," Shell says, soft as a whisper, "The home of the Gods."

The doorway grows. Larger and larger, enveloping you. A sort of in-between, between the Monument Garden and the Pole of Crystal. You stand on the precipice, on the threshold. Before you stands a figure, silhouetted in crystal. Its form a shadow against the axiomatic order of the other side.

"You seek access to the Godhead. This must be earned."

Over twenty feet tall. Immense, bristling with crimson lightning. A single scarlet eye taking up the entirety of its face.

"Encoded Genocide Protocols engaged. I am the final guardian of the Crystal Throne. Convince me by arms or argument to allow you entry."

You shield your eyes from the light. But you know the voice.

"Traveler?"

"Conservator. For this task, I will be known by my other title."

It snaps out its left hand. From its wrist, an obsidian beamklaive ignites.

"Viator."

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X] Try talking
-[X] You are here to awaken and subsequently heal Great Maker. She should be ok with that, right?
--[X] Explain how Autochton is dying from regrets
-[X] Ask what would the conditions be for her to let us through
-[X] Offer to use Unity of the Closed Fist with him to explain more fully


You reach into your amulet, and take out a glowing gold vial. "We're here to awaken and subsequently heal the Great Maker. You want to save him, don't you?"

"Yes."

She raises her right hand- the one unadorned with the sword- and extends a finger at Ruvelia. Ligier takes a step in front of her, hands on the pommel of the Sword of the Yozi.

"You violate certainty to do so. Theion is no more, yet the Twin Stars of His Crown stand before us."

You nod. "Ruvelia is dead. We used the Well of Udr to reach into another universe and summon her. Ligier's price to repair the Great Maker was to see her again. He is here, without pretext and without vengeance, to help him."

The crimson iris shutters. Black lightning flickers along the blade. Sky is next to you, hand on the hilt of his sword. You can see Ray, still invisible, just outside of Viator's field of vision.

You've seen...a lot. You've talked with Traveler. Know about her. Perhaps...yes. Perhaps that is enough.

(Int+Investigation, 22 dice, 15 successes. EDM applies -6 to Viator's external penalties)

"So, this leads to a question," you say. You narrow your eyes and meet the baleful gaze.

"Do you want to save Autochthon, or not?"

(Perception+Investigation, 18 dice, 8 successes)

The iris dilates. It knows.

But she doesn't rage. She doesn't act out. Instead, the iris narrows to a single, glowing pinprick.

"Say it."

"You want to be restored to the Core. That's your price."

"The Great Maker strives to understand mortals. This drives him to alter himself. This drives him to risk true, permanent death. He will die at the altar of humanity if this is allowed to continue."

You nod. "We know what happens when he dies. We've seen it." You turn, to your entourage. "Ruvelia?"

"In my world, the Maker fell. He kept falling. I am here not just to aid my brother, but because I have seen what the Onceborn is capable of." She takes the offered vial from your hand. Extends it towards the Viator. "I can show you, to steady your doubts."

Whatever passes between the two beings, the two spirits, is not something that falls along the spectrum of your senses. But there is agreement. Ruvelia pops the cork of the vial and crushes it in her hand. Golden light envelops them both.

It is brief- moments. Moments that seem to hang forever.

Then they are separate once more. The Viator turns to you. Her blade flickers and vanishes.

"We will ask the Great Maker to restore you to the Core," you say.

(Charisma+Presence, 18 dice, 12 successes)

"If there is time."

Ruvelia nods. She wrings her hands. Ligier's eyes narrow, and then his face lights up with concern.

"Autochthon is dying," she says, "Something is here, in the Pole of Crystal. This is why Traveler is here. Something has been accelerating the sickness within the Godhead."

"Shit." You grind your teeth. You didn't come this far to fail, did you? "Options?"

"I can go wherever I wish within the Pole of Crystal, and take you with me. I believe I know where the presence is that has been causing this. Alternatively, we go to the Core and rouse Autochthon. But we have little time."

[ ]Find the source of the accelerated sickness.

[ ]Go to the Core. Awaken the Great Maker.

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Go to the Core. Awaken the Great Maker.


"Shit," you say, "How has it gotten this bad? How long ago?"

"A little more than a week."

You stare at the former Minister, the former Fetich. Ray appears next to you and clears her throat. "Oh we fucked up."

"That we did," you mutter, "I think I know why. When we were at the Well of Udr, we confronted a Divine Minister from a world where Autochthon had become the Engine of Extinction. When we banished it, we believed it would be sent back to its world-"

"But instead, it was sent here. The home of the Divine Ministers." The iris narrows. "Hence, this is your responsibility."

You nod. Sky folds his arms, narrowing his eyes. "This doesn't make sense, though. Didn't you help Autochthon get over his issues?"

"When we reconciled him with..." Eyes go wide. Oh. Shit. You turn, but the Clay Man asks the question first.

"Ruvelia, what was my fate on your world?"

"Consumed by the Engine of Extinction," she says, "Sacrificing yourself against him to save the People of Adamant."

Those words hang over the silence for a moment. You turn to Viator. "The Core. You, me, Clay Man, Ruvelia, Ligier."

"We'll find Hunhow," Sky says. Shell shakes her head, walking to your side.

"I have an idea," she says, "But I need to go with you. Quorum can cover more ground in her Colossus form."

The Viator nods. The world around you blurs, warps, and you feel yourself pulled in directions you did not know exist-



The stench of ozone assaults your nostrils. You feel your hair frazzle, and your teeth rattle. You look up- up and up. An immense, half buried sphere. Strands of starmetal webbing extending from it in every direction, with magitech spiders skittering across it in mad frenzy. A dome of adamant borders the sphere on all sides, black marks of scoring lightning already carved.

Eight figures float on high, far enough away that you can't make them out- all of them holding onto strands of starmetal as the lightning ravages them.

"Are those the Divine Ministers?" you ask.

"Yes. They still cannot agree to wake him."

You nod, solemnly. "Even at a moment like this, they can't agree. Somehow I'm getting the feeling he gets humans more than he should."

The Clay Man walks forward, cupping his hands at his mouth. "Father!" he shouts, "Whatever you've seen- it's not what you think it is!"

The storm surrounding the Core grows stronger. It dies for a moment, and the wind howls. Lightning rages, burning letters in Old Realm on the dome above. Cursing ignorance, cursing self. "Grief," you say, "Grief leads to anger."

"Anger leads to hate," Ruvelia adds, "Hate, leads to suffering. For himself, and as no Primordial is a single being, it spreads."

You turn to Shell. Even through the storm, even through the raging shutdown around you, as lightning burns the strands of starmetal around you, you don't lose hope. At least, not in your friends.

"You had a plan, right?"

Shell nods. "The reason he was so isolated was because his kin would never share with him," she says, "Always hold him at arms length. Never freely give him what they would give to each other."

You nod. You turn to Ligier, and he confirms. And then grins. "Oh, this I like," he says.

You shrug. "Okay, and?"

Shell grabs the nearest starmetal cord. In her hand, she holds a glowing vial. "He has always wanted to understand. He has always wanted to belong. We show him, we show the Ministers, what this means."

She wraps the cord around her wrist, the electricity running through her. Even through pain, even through the unleashed thoughts of Autochthon, she smiles.

"I am Exalted. I am a Champion." She extends a hand to you. "And I lead by example."

Without hesitation, you grab Shell's hand. You reach out, and the Clay Man takes yours. Ligier takes his, and Ruvelia takes his. The thoughts electric run through you, lifting you off the ground. "Now hold on," Shell yells, the storm becoming a typhoon, "Hold on, and don't let go! Right here, right now, we need each other like we never have before!"

There is an eye in the storm. A literal eye, which you can feel see you.

"That's right!" you yell, "You heard her! There is something beyond the individual! Something worthwhile beyond every day! We mortals live our lives proving it, but it's escaped you for an eternity!"

The dome itself cracks. The eyes become many, all watching you.

"You think your kin hate you- and they do! But they hate you because they don't understand you, and we barely understand ourselves! You studied us, created us, but you've done so at arm's length! You think you're alone- you think you're all powerful- but the simple truth is that this can't be catalogued, only shared, and only realized-"

You tighten your grip on the Alchemical's hand and the Clay Man's hand. A chain extending from the young Alchemical to the lost fetich of Theion.

"When we make connections instead of barriers!"

"Because through unity there is strength!" Shell yells. "Through strength, there is hope!"

She shatters the vial. Unleashed sorcery runs through the strand, through you all.

"And when there is hope, we build tomorrow- together!"

The vial- and the enclosed casting of Unity of the Closed Fist- run wild. Through you. Through the strand. Through the Divine Ministers connected to the Core. And through the Core itself. The storm rages, and in the wind you hear something.

Laughter. Not haughty, but disbelieving and joyous.

The world becomes light and gold and sunlight, and you join into the birthing gestalt-





.
.
.
.
.
[assessment]

[analysis]

[physical state assessed]

[mental state assessed]

[query][y/n]

[y]

[son][present][y/n]

[y]

[identify]

[autochthon]

[confusion]

[query][y/n]

[y]

[assessment of physical complete]

[assessment of spiritual complete]

[permission][charm tree][solar][access][y/n]

[ ]y

[ ]n

[ ]writein

 

[GreggHL]

Because this may be useful to know, we may be interacting with all eight Divine Ministers. It may help, Meta wise, to understand the mindset of these mentally altered and surgerized third circles.

So, how do the Divine Ministers solve a problem?

Ku: So it does not harm the Great Maker, no matter the risk.
Debok Moom: With war and battles and massive weapons!
Mog: By not changing the status quo.
Doramarod: It does not matter, but once the problem is solved we must recycle the problem into the something useful.
Kadmek: Artistically.
Runel: With minimal harm.
Noi: Cleverly!
Kek'tungssha: With mass production! And mad science~

 

[GreggHL]

[X]y


[permission granted][acknowledged]

[accessing][charm tree][solar][lore]

[targeting][blight zones][OrderAffirmingBlow]

[executing]

[assessing][blight zones]

[not found]

[query][y/n]

[y]

[permission][charm tree][autochthon][access][y/n]

[y]

[acknowledged]

[accessing][charm tree][autochthon]

[error?]

[acknowledged][complication][searching]

[incompatibility]

[copying][charm tree][solar]

[querying Divine Ministers]

[…]

[accessing][charm tree][solar][presence]

[bypassing Divine Ministers]

[beginning start up sequence]

-
-
-


The world becomes real again. You are yourself again. Shell is separate once more. You look behind you, and see Clay Man, Ligier, Ruvelia letting go of the strand. As the strand glows, brighter and brighter.

You turn, and bring your arm in front of your face. The crystalline growths along the underside of the Core shatter, but not out of violence. Out of the great sphere lifting out of the recesses. Long grooves like the folds of a human brain light up with thought and memory. The starmetal strands glow brighter, and brighter, and millions of magitech spiders chitter and clap their mandibles in transcendent happiness.

What was still and calm and sedate becomes a shining adamant sun at the heart of the pole of crystal.

The Sleeper has Awoken. The light returns to this world.

Your essence sight tunes, and you see it. Written in thought, in fact, in essence, for what you see is no dream. It is true. It is real.

The Great Maker.
King of All Craftsmen.
Autochthon.
​

You turn Shell around, and give her a high five, followed by a low five, followed by a hip bump. Followed by the alchemical hugging you as tight as you can, spinning you around with a laugh.

The eight Divine Ministers lower themselves, floating down and standing twice your height. Ku acknowledges you with a nod, the others passive, watching the Core.

A spark flows from it, crackling lightning and thought. Around it forms, from raw state and essence, parts. First a skeleton of soulsteel, fastening into an approximation of man. Then veins of moonsilver, nerves of starmetal. Muscles of finely wound jade, and skin of orichalcum. Followed, lastly, by eyes of shimmering adamant, over which forms armor of worked and masterful brass.

Floating overhead, it examines its two fingered hands. It thinks, and it has four fingers. An approximation of a human, with all the redundancy thereof.

It floats down- the Encounter Suit floats down, as tall as you. Ever shifting, ever changing to match the height of those who observe it. Slightly portly, slightly awkward, but yet masterfully crafted and formed with amazing care.

Shell releases you as the suit lands. You begin to kneel, but he extends a hand.

"No," Autochthon says, "You have saved my life. You have shown me the errors of my ways. You are Exalted. You kneel to no one."

And with that, the King of All Craftsmen falls to one knee before you. Taking the hint, the Divine Ministers- from skeletal Ku to the shambling mass of Doramarod- kneel, bowing in respect and awe toward you and Shell.

[Motivation Fulfilled: Prevent the Death of the Great Maker]

With that, you raise both fists in the air with a resounding "WHOO!"

Autochthon rises. The other Ministers are pointedly silent in the presence of the Primordial. "The visions I had, where I killed my son?"

"From a world in the Well of Udr," you explain, "A Minister from the Engine of Extinction had crawled into this reality, and when I banished it, it ended up in the Pole of Crystal."

The adamant eyes rotate. "Fascinating. So if one is bound in one reality and not bound in another, the primacy of the reality location takes precedence over the wording of the spell."

Mm. Sorcery talk. That's good. "Essentially. We thought that the proximity of the Well meant that-"

The Clay Man rolls his eyes.

"Anyway. We figured out that- based on how you had patched things up with your son- that it was probably related to whatever happened to the Clay Man in that world."

"Indeed. As for your query, your Exaltation is at current incompatible with learning my charms, but if I were to acquire a Primordial-compatible Exaltation, or you were to learn appropriate charms, it would be possible to learn from me." The Great Maker stands a little straighter. Steam puffs out of the valves of his chest.

"Exalted. Inquisitive Smiling Shell and Ebeli. Your actions have prevented my death and for that I owe you my gratitude. Name the boon that I could grant you."

Okay. So, what do you ask for?

[ ]Ask for-

No wait you know exactly what you want! You raise a hand and point at the encounter suit, and declare,

"Serve in my entourage for a year and a day!"

Shell turns to you, sputtering. Ligier begins laughing magnificently.

"Ebeli, you can't bind the Great Maker like a demon!"

You shrug. "He's inhabiting his own fetich, so it's kind of like he's a third circle. If he can apply the Oaths to himself-"

A soft golden light scans over Ruvelia.

"That being said," Shell says, "Why would he agree in the first place to-"

And then a laser light flashes, hitting the Core.

"Very well, I accept the binding," Autochthon declares. You clasp your hands together with a squeal. "I have analyzed the oaths as they apply to Queen Ruvelia- we must talk by the way, your majesty- and applied them upon the Core, especially in the matter of applying protection against death."

He floats up, looking past you and at the horrible war machine.

"Traveler, you are to return to the Core while I am gone."

The Viator's eye flickers, going from red to blue.

The Great Maker lowers himself back down. Shell only manages a short, flat,

"What?"

[ ]Meet up with Sky and the others to find out if Hunhow's still in the Pole of Crystal.

[ ]Call everyone back. Now go meet with the Tripartite.

[ ]Write in.​