Griever: The Ravenlords, part 3
Log Info
- Title: Grievor: The Ravenlords, part 3
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Un'eth, Halani, Braelnoir, Cryosanthia, Thyrson, Merek
- Place: Ravenlord's Watch Tower, Receiving Room
- Time: Sunday, October 24, 2021, 9:48 PM
- Summary: The diplomatic envoys make further appeals and are invited into a portal. They appear in a chamber where they are watched by ravens in many perches, and stand in front of a large, ornate statue of one. The statue lives, and speaks to them. Once again, introductions are made, with Cryosanthia promoting some of her group and leaving others to speak their own qualifications. They explain their reason for coming, knowledge of the threat from Charn and a desire to assist the Raven Lords against it. They are the first wall that will fall to the Greivor. Cryo reveals there is a Shard of Animus that has been weaponized, and an odd reply allows Braelnoir to realize, the shards may represent separate aspects of Animus' reaction to dying. This is unsettling the longer one thinks about it. Cryo explains that they are unsure what information would be best to share, as they don't understand the needs of the Raven Lords all that well. They're informed they will be invited to dinner. That they will be prepared. Hopefully not as dinner!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Un'eth 6'2" 275 Lb Sith-Makar Female An ebon-scaled female Sith-makar. Tenoc 7'0" 280 Lb Sith-Makar Male Tall, green-scaled Sith'Makar hunter. Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver. Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Halani 5'4" 120 Lb Human/Xian Female Shortish, dusky skinned woman with almond shaped eyes. Thyrson 7'6" 436 Lb Giantborn Male Northern giantborn. Chiseled features, blonde stereotype. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Little Fang 'Lily' Kobold Female A pinkscale youngling wearing a skeletonized broach. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh A pile -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Previously
The Ambassadors teleport to Tashraan. Merek goes off to get a list of Airships while everyone else looks around. Cryo is given the list and the group decides something fast, with headroom and no goblins. They find an airship willing to go the distance, and question the captain to make sure he's the sort that will deliver. Finding him trustworthy, they buy a few diplomatic gifts, and fruit, and depart. Approaching the Ravenlord's border, they see Charnese airships in the distance. Dropped off, they scout and head on foot towards a tower.
Immediately, a being shimmers into view atop its rampart as they arrive.
The black-winged egalrin says nothing. He just leans forward and stares down at everyone.
Cryosanthia halts, her clothing adjusting to be a bright white with blue highlights, to match her scales. Casually, she swirls her left hand through a graceful series of loops. There's a sparkling of light, that starts in her chest and ripples out tracing along her left arm and scales. With glowing fingers, she touches the sides of her mouth, then speaks.
The air ripples beside her, as if dozens of maws echo her words, amplifying her greatly. "Peace on your Nests. This one is Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith'Makar. We are diplomatic envoys from Alexandria, with representatives of that City and the Silver Empress. We wish to share words."
Braelnoir handles the march like a trooper, steady an alert, with her crossbow held low along the way.
She seems a little studious as she walks, though it could have been something she ate, as she notes, "Yeah, they know we're coming b'now. They wan'us close, only reason they ain't sent anything out ta challenge us, yet."
In time, it seems, indeed that it's true, and she regards the fellow as he breaks cover. With a sidelong glance to her sister and her display, the Korite releases her grip on the crossbow slowly, at least in that she is holding it up by the foregrip and draws it away from her trigger hand, though without any bones about unloading it, first. Her eyes sweep the highs and lows, corners and shadows as best the can manage for any indication that this is about to go south like the seasons just changed.
Halani comes to a stop, a few steps behind and to the side of Cryosanthia. She kicks one last stone, then plants her stick in the ground, shifting on to the balls of her feet to bounce a few times.. then leans on the staff and looks up at the silent Egalrin, offering a toothy grin as the white Sith-Makar speaks.
There are most assuredly snipers of some kind. They're ready to kill the group. However, if they had wanted to they could've done so well before here. Braelnoir's military theory helps her identify areas to watch, a vast number of areas where the Ravenlords have clean arcs of aim for arrows or spells.
Again, it's a little reassuring. If they had wanted to do something, they would have by now.
The whitescale waits for a reply. As the silence stretches on she's hopelessly chipper, "We've brought gifts!"
Now
Un'eth wonders if they must great the envoy with a special dance. She does not dance.
Silence, no response. Cryo thinks back to her Speaker training and the exercise where she talked to a tree, to practice negotiating with someone that wasn't responding at all. This may be where she learned to simply speak, stream of consciousness with little filtering.
A skill she decides might help now, if only to interrupt the silence.
"Okay, okay, everyone." She says in a normal voice, not using the magical amplification, "Right. They aren't interested in Alexandria, or us, they don't care about gifts."
"They'll only care about what we can do for them, so, think of things we can tell them we can help with. We don't know a lot about them, but we know Charn is coming, and we do have things we can offer, right? What can we offer?"
"Ain't done biz'n Charn fer a couple years." Braelnoir replies with an offhand shrug toward Cryo, "Think we can bribe'm with food?"
There's another scan of the probable sniping points, but doesn't make any grand movements aside from turning her head.
Un'eth is neither tactician nor Speaker, and simply regards the silent avian on its tower. "Are they unaware of the threat that approaches them and others?" she inquires aside of the others. "What is it they would want?"
The Egalrin guardsmen taps his halberd against the stone rampart once. "Ready yourselves."
That 's all he says for the moment. His common is accented and raspy, the voice of someone who doesn't speak it often at all.
"We do come in peace. Diplomatically even." Cryo adds quickly, glancing at her friends before looking up again, "I guess we're ready."
Halani lets her eyes fall away from the Egalrin guardsman up above so that she might look at the others. "Depends what we're ready for, yeah?" She shifts a little bit.. it's a subtle movement, but her arms seem a bit more relaxed, held a handspan or so away from her sides, and she's shaking them a little bit. Loosening up.
A singular glowing rune appears on the ground in front of the gate to the fort. It starts to glow more and more brightly before a shimmering platform appears.
"Please. Go ahead."
It's definitely a *kind* of door.
Braelnoir lets out a slow breath and looks up to the ramparts as the guard sounds his halberd against it, "A chance t'break their stalemate with Charn?" she ventures in a low hiss. <Draconic>
Her attention shifts to the portal and, mouth pressing briefly into a bemused s-curve, shrugs and steps forward, "Who wants t'live ferever?"
"Lily, necklace." Cryo says.
Immediately her pinkscale youngling vanishes into her backpack, pulling on a necklace as she does. The whitescale ensures the strap holding it closed is tight. She nods at Braelnoir's hiss, "I don't think they're at a stalemate, avoiding a checkmate might be their goal." <draconic>
She matches steps with her scale-sister, "Come, let's negotiate like we're saving the world." She steps on the rune and the shimmering platform.
Un'eth is distracted momentarily as Lily enacts what seems a practiced routine and then looses a light snort as she looks back to the glowing rune. She then moves forward with the others to the gate.
"Well... forever's a long time, but don't wanna really die today, yeah?" Halani says, grimacing a bit when the platform fully realizes. Still, she lets a breath out as the others step aboard and then does likewise.
Un'eth takes her station, youngling-sitting.
As soon as someone steps on the platform, they vanish from the view of the others. It's definitely a transporter! Though, really, that was obvious.
The rest of the diplomatic corp follow the leaders. Merek, Un'eth, Tenoc, Thyrson follow, stepping onto the platform and vanishing one by one.
There's a sort of disorientation. For a moment, you all feel weightless and out of sorts. It's hard to say how long it lasts, as time doesn't really 'feel' right when you're in a 'place' like this. Are you in a place? Hard to say.
The mists seem to clear and you find yourself in a large chamber, standing upon a thick, black carpet. Sconces along the walls at regular intervals illuminate that you're definitely in some kind of audience chamber, now, and a considerable number of black-feathered Egalrin are leaning in your direction, observing you.
As you turn to face ahead, you see a single statue on a raised dais, a greatsword clutched in one hand, a glass orb in another. It is meticulously detailed and painted, but a statue all the same.
And then it opens its eyes and grinds forward to study you.
"You have come a long ways. From the fallen lands of Kulthos and the Aiglosians. We see you. You say you bring tribute to the rightful lords of this land, as you must. It is good that the old ways are remembered."
Banf!
Now where the hell is she?
Brae emerges on the other side of the teleport, still holding a loaded crossbow, though lowered and only holding it with the trigger hand.
Wolflike eyes sweep the corners and high places, taking in the audience before nodding toward her scale sister.
This is her playground, after all.
The Korite's own lay south of here.... figuratively speaking.
Halani is starting to get used to this kind of transportation.. she hardly even blinks, this time, as a single step takes her into the mists.. then drops her somewhere else. A quick glance assures her that she is still with the others.. but then she shifts a step back, her foot sliding along the carpet as she sets eyes upon the statue. The speaking statue. The speaking statue looking at everyone. "Uh... hey." she says, lifting a hand, a small wave with two fingers.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls diplomacy+5: (4)+23+5: 32 (+5 for Diplomat cloak)
It's a familiar disorientation, although the whitescale is glad her youngling is safely packed away to avoid it. As her awareness returns she gazes around the room, then at the statue. She does not flinch when it speaks, even though she is surprised. She hides it well, centers herself.
"Thank you." Cryosanthia bows, thumping her tail, then addressing the statue. "We bring offerings from Tashraan as tribute for the courtesy of hearing our words. I shall deliver mine along with my purpose."
She steps forward, bringing out the oranges and an ornate box. "Fruit, fresh from the market and one from my homeland." She opens the box, "crystaline wind-chimes that refract the light and sound at the slightest disturbance."
She sets both down in front of the statue.
"This one is Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith'Makar. This one represents the Silver Empress, and words spoken to me will reach her ears."
She gestures towards Merek, "My Colleague is a powerful Seer of the Dreaming Dragon, charged with defending Alexandria, and one whose words..." she quickly struggles for something that is true, but also not unreasonable, "... are heard by those in the highest stations."
Yes, that will work. Everyone knows Merek.
"We are aware of threats to your borders, which likely you need no warning from us, but have come to see if we can be of assistance in some fashion."
With a sweeping gesture, Cryo waves at the rest of the group, "This one invites you to accept their offerings and hear their triumphs."
Additional offerings and introductions are made, with Un'eth presenting herself as a Warden of Mictlan and Shaman, and Thyrson as an Archmage with connections to the Society of Progressive Arcanists.
Plus, other honorifics.
Halani just stands there, nodding slightly with each introduction Cryosanthia makes. Until she stops making them. And realizes that she didn't introduce everyone. She eyes the white sith, but seeing her having made her offering... well, yes. She feels put on the spot. She fumbles a bit at her robes, then produces the small sack of herbs. "Heya.. this is tea. They told me it was pretty good, yeah?" She places it besides Cryo's box of fruit, then steps back.
An introduction, a teleport, a talking statue, gifts and introductions on-going, and slow. It's an uphill climb, or perhaps, flight.
Braelnoir sets the stirrup of the crossbow against the floor with slow, deliberate motions, decocking the weapon and to remove and stow the bolt, then hangs it from the dedicated place on her array of straps.
Her spiked hand remains unclenched while the bare fingered moves with steady care to one of the larger pouches of her bandolier, withdrawing a pretty nice pair of spiked metal spheres, united by a small coil of braided leather, much like that of a lariat. Cradling the item in her armoured palm, the Korite steps forward, eyes steady.
"I'm Braelnoir of Stormgarde, Former Sergeant of Scarab Platoon o'the Mercenary company, the Brazen Stride. I've done war t'some extent'r other in half the countries on the map, includin' Charn an' Bludgun."
She hooks her index and middle fingers behind a loop in the coil before turning her wrist over, letting the knobby bludgeons drop to dangle most of the way to the floor from where her hand hovers, "I offer this. This bola's crafted fifty years ago, the weapon of a manhunter. Passed Father t'son, t'daughter. Lost after a brave stand against overwhelmin' odds, an' she killed half th'blighters with this 'fore she fell."
Without her poleyn actually touching the floor, the silver tressed human sinks almost to a genuflection, to respectfully set her offering beside the others before stepping back to her previous spot.
Thyrson steps forwards after Braelnoir, leaning on his staff. He towers, stooped -a failing piece of architecture held up by will and the light behind his eyes. "I am Loric Thyrson. I was once a Hero of the Sendor War, a dabbler in the timestream, and bender of light. I am blood of the dragons." He opens his hand, revealing that he's taken off one of his rings -- and makes magical light flare around it slowly. "I give you a gift from my own hoard -- a ring that shields, useful when Charn starts throwing around necrotechnological energies."
There's a rustling from the Egalrin observing you as the gifts and words are presented.
The stone statue tilts its head, bird-like of course, and studies each in turn. "Is this what you bring us? Truly, the wealth of the empires of the west has truly degraded. You speak for those who oppose the usurpers and bring gifts, paltry as they may be."
You have a feeling that less carefully chosen words might've had a disastrous impact here. "There is but one Emperor."
Those words also a carefully narrowed wording of what the Raven Lords, apparently, recognize. One Emperor. One rightful throne. Whoever that is, apparently, unknown to you at the moment, but then, trafficking with the Raven Lords is exceptionally difficult. They rarely receive visitors, and even their long standing enmity with Charn seems barely known outside of it. One of the members of the court steps forward to retrieve the offered gifts and place them before the dais.
Cryosanthia listens, her training and her time with the Fey Queen have made her skilled at hiding her thoughts and reactions. This is very helpful when her thoughts are 'um... now what?'. She stands tall, dignified and imperious, and ponders what to say next.
Do not get into an argument over my swamp is better than your swamp.
That seems like a sound strategy. Don't argue that the gifts were great, there was some thought but a lot of the preparations were rushed.
She decides, might as well catch them up on what they know. "The most significant warning this one has relates to the slain god of magic, Animus. Fragments of the dead god exist. Some have been found and exhibit great power. One may be in Charn."
She pauses, "Is this news and of interest to you? Do you want to know more?"
Thyrson hands over the ring with a nod at the courtier. He waits as Cryo brings forth the core of the statement, leaning on his staff to wait, his eyes fixed on the statue. After a moment, he glances up, and then around.
Braelnoir is usually only there for when negotiations break down, or... things have already been well past words for a while now.
She wasn't much for negotiation on a grand scale, and trusted her sister in that regard.
"The Dead God Continues Dying, forever, backwards and forwards."
That is the answer.
"But that pieces of him fall to earth in Charn is interesting. Yes, you may share more. We would know what the Usurpers plan to do with this Dead God."
The voice is gravelly. Like stone. Because it's a statue.
That's a useful piece of information! Cryo isn't sure what to do with it, something to talk over later. She remains impassive, unresponsive. It is stone, well, she can be ice.
"The one in Charn has been fashioned into a weapon, one that allows its wielder to see through deceptions and see connections. It is being used by whom I suspect is the Ursurper to solidify a power base and raise an army that will strike your lands first, and others later."
"Other Fragments have exhibited different personalities or aspects." The whitescale says, "Not all have been located, one may exist undiscovered in your territory."
Thyrson ponders that response. So, from an Arcana and Planes theory perspective, does the interpretation of the Dead God dying through time hold up? Also, he also tries to piece together a little more of what a plausible magic item put together by the Usurper could do.
Although, it's more religious question about the nature of divinity and time than anything else.
Magically, arcane wise, the most refined answer is 'Maybe?'.
GAME: Thyrson rolls knowledge/religion: Trained Use Only: 0 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls knowledge/religion: (6)+4: 10
BIG QUESTIONS -- NO ANSWERS
It is a pretty esoteric question.
The Gods may or may not have the same relation to time that mortals do. It is likely that they don't, but that's a question for the Navosians.
The whitescale isn't going to figure that one out on her own.
Continues dying, backwards and forwards...
How does that relate to what they've seen of the fragment's behaviour once they've found someone to interact with.
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Human improv, go!" GAME: Braelnoir rolls int+2: (15)+1+2: 18
"So..." Brae starts, almost under her breath at first, "... with the way Gods work through time... yeah..."
The Korite's head cocks a little, eyes narrowing in thought, "Mebbe.. Animus isn't showin' different personalities.. but reactin' from different... versions of the instant he got croaked...?"
"Is this so."
The statue seems passive about this. It's a statue. of course it's passive seeming. It has no expression. Then again, reading a bird's beak isn't exactly easy either in the first place. It's wings slowly spread, shaking off the dust of an age.
"You bring this warning to us and seek to gain against the Usurpers. A wise move. Your warning will be heeded. I will bring it to the Lord before the war-season begins. What do you know of this Usurper who wields the dead-god as his weapon? We who are endless, we who serve with devotion undying, will strike down the Usurpers and reclaim what is rightfully ours."
A little question that is also bigger than it seems. What do they know about the Ursurpers? As little as they know about the Raven Lords. It's a thin squeeze to determine which is less. The diplomatic envoys still are not even dealing with one directly. Not hugely surprising, all things considered, but it is enough to worry about just who they are.
"We need to know more about you and your situation." Cryosanthia says, "Before we can tell you things that will be useful."
"You will be guests at our court dinner this evening, then. You will be prepared."
Oh boy...
