Demens Chosen IC [CLOSED]

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Sun Sep 24, 2017 5:45 pm

RotLB

The amphitheater was Sandy's goal, and specifically, the southwest corner. As he and the baron sauntered into it, Sandy quietly admired its features. “There's nothing like this where I used to teach. We didn't have anything but the stadium that could seat this many people, nor any lecture area with acoustics as big.” With a sly smile, he finished with, “But how I convince them that I got to teach here, at the Library of Alexandria, is another matter entirely.

As the two of them closed in on the overgrown junction where the comedy and tragedy works met those of the sciences, Sandy dropped his voice to a bare whisper. “The buildings block casual sight, but the east wall might carry echoes.” His voice still low, he slowly cast the Wolf's Ears on himself. He made up for the near-silent casting with expansive gestures, as though he could scoop the power into his spell. “A little something to make it easier to hear approaching people. It'll work on you too.”

The Baron nodded quietly as his already surgically enhanced hearing was expanded greatly to pick on various pitter patters and miniscule sounds. He honed in for a second focusing on the flutter of a piece of paper to steady himself to the new dimension of sound. Reassessing the distance of certain sounds he was able to visual the new range of his hearing/

Sandy closed his eyes to Listen as the Baron inhaled deeply through his nose, pulling scents of the arcane into his superhuman olfactory center. The Olympians' magic flowed freely here – Sandy Heard an array of choruses, while the Baron's nose was filled with the scents of the humans' odd gods. The real problem, though, was teasing out different melodic lines and aromas and grouping them into sensible arrangements that described the Mouseion's enchantments.

Two came quickly to both men, and they barely had to whisper confirmation to each other: A spell which kept the amphitheater at a comfortable temperature, and an immense scryward covering the whole campus, which seemed potent enough to blind all sorts of clairvoyance and divination that might reveal what went on here. Sandy stood in wide-eyed amazement. “It must have taking dozens of casters weeks to put this up. They must have worked in shifts!”

Sandy reclosed his eyes, focusing on the Music. One chorus seemed a little different, mercurial... literally: it was associated with Mercury, called Hermes jere. Sandy tersely summarized the motifs for the Baron. “Motion, travel, great distances.”

Primordial found the odors Sandy meant: repulsive. Yes, that was it! “It smells like the Tail of the Dragon, Locked gates. An appeal to Yog-Sothoth. A barrier to exit. A one way fold in space-time.”

The two spell-workers pieced it together: a teleport shield of significant power and elegance. One could teleport into the dining room or the gardens, but not use magic to leave campus. “Clever: they let people arrive where they're sure to be be seen.” In the rest of the Mouseion, teleportation simply failed. “I have no doubt our...” He sought an innocuous description, making small circling motions with his right hand as he thought. “...usual host could put a gate where he wants, but other than those places, it might be noticed as it punches through the enchantment. We'll have the, um, gatemistress fetch us from there.” He ended with a shake of the head and a shrug: Demens' Guardians could probably fool the Olympians' detection, but there hadn't been time to check before they left the Alessio gate. There was no way Sandy could be sure. (The worry about such things was Sandy's reason for not just hopping onto campus the first place, which the overworked Storyteller might have forgotten to mention.)

Sandy suddenly stiffened and pressed himself against the east wall of the natural sciences and history building. He pressed a finger to his lips, looking beyond the end of the wall.

There was the faint metallic scrape of hinges as as the dining room’s double doors swung open, followed by voices, muffled but audible. Two scholars laughed as they discussed the game Sandy had lost. A few more footfalls, then a familiar heavy rasp and boom. They’d entered the Library by the closest door. Sandy relaxed, shoulders falling as he let his breath out.

Twenty minutes went by as the two men repeatedly inched closer and closer to the wall as they sought to sort out what they were Smelling and Hearing. It was clear to both the the remaining spells were bound into Library's walls to protect its interior, so they'd be easier to analyze from the inside.

Sandy's descriptions of what he Heard became fragmentary and widely spaced. “Creation... collection... Um, it doesn't... can't...?” Followed by bits and pieces in technical Greek. While the Baron's nose couldn't help Sandy, his larger collection of magical techniques and analytical mind could. He realized that the enchantment Sandy was struggling to describe had something to do with summoning or conjuring. “Another appeal to Yog-Sothoth, a Wormhole Conjuration, it’s some kind of invocation to summon is it not?”

Sandy took a big step away from the wall, shook his head, and stared at the floor. When he looked back up at the Baron, he seemed weary. “I'll need...” He paused, listening carefully for a few seconds. “More sensitive ears to get anything more. But.” He let that word hang for emphasis.

“Those ears haven't been seen for a thousand years, and must not be seen or we could... could... We might change something that will happen... has happened, with unknown effects.”

“And you remember what Nick said before he left: the local Patrons might know if Nick was a god's servant... and those ears most definitely are.” Sandy's tone indicated worry, his expression uncertainty.

[OOC: hasty collab with Prim]

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Sun Sep 24, 2017 7:15 pm

Booze-Run Part II
Into the Bowl

Holy Lykos wrote:Sigtrygg scratched at his beard, nodding as he listened to Amanda's description. "So... Collecting food is such a minor worry that the more active forms of it is some sort of sport? [...] Bit of a tangent, yes, but talking about what we did before being Chosen might be good for bonding, aye?"

Amanda listened intently to the Viking's description, trying to place it. He was from Earth, apparently her past, or one like it, but she couldn't make the details fit. "Roman Empire? It's ruled from where? Rome, or another city, maybe Constantinople or..." She stared through the leaf wrapping her fish, eyes defocused, trying to remember the old name Sandy used. Oh, of course! "A city called Byzantion?"

With a smile, she added, "Yes, it couldn't hurt to get to know each other. I'm a lawyer, was and am. I help people present their cases in courts of law. Ours ultimately decend from Roman ones, the great-great grandpappy of my laws were written by a Roman, Justinian. But now I practice law in Ascalon, a city not far from the Building." Amanda pulled her fish off the steam vent, unwrapped it, and considered it. She poked it with the knife: cooked in the middle, good. She held her steak in the leaf and took a bite from it. Unfamiliar taste, a little bland but edible.

She turned back to the Norseman. "We should remember to bring human spices next time."

Primordial Luxa wrote:“I think it’s more about how you see the world, if the forces beyond our understanding have some spiritual value or if they're just tools. [...] But it’s great for surface changes like this and general art.”

Amanda shifted her gaze as the Luxan replied, then nodded along with it, though it was clear from her expression she got little of the part about the stylus. She took another bite of fish before replying. "There are many forces, only a few seem to have any religious value."

She flicked her eyes to make it clear she meant to address Sigtrygg too. "Where I'm from, the little magic that remains is no different than electricity... or like the wind or flowing water. If you know how to work it, it does what you want. But it is interesting learning of the Baron's transactional approach to religion, though he makes deals with dangerous counterparties."

RotLB

The Baron's tone was grave. “If I recall my mythology well enough few things were more criminal than harming a servant of the gods. I am much more worried what will happen if we don’t have a clear picture while fighting through a burning building than I am if they discover you can transform into a Pegasus. At worst we can...incapacitate anyone who catches us. I can stall anyone at the doors and try to give you privacy.”

The Baron moved into the amphitheater’s entrance and stood to watch the hallways on either side, positioning himself so he could see the doors to the dining room, the history building and the medicine building. He looked about at the objects litting the ground looking for some loose pieces of dirt or rock. Reaching out with the barest trace of his powers he felt them, so that if they were moved he would feel it and get an extra level of alert. He planned to warn Sandy should anyone come and try to accost the person perhaps striking up a conversation if need be.

Sandy nodded silently, his lips pressed tight, then took a few steps away from the wall to allow space for Pegasus' wings. He checked the distance and took a couple more steps, trying to stay as out of sight as he could while allowing enough room.

He cast Apollonius' Fifth Metamorphosis as quietly as he could, but there was nothing he could do about its sweeping gestures. He listened (and Listened) for anything approaching, but the Mouseion was still and quiet. He turned to face into the corner, swiveling both ears forward to Listen to the Library's enchantments.

A few seconds passed while Sandy concentrated on the Library’s Music and the Baron kept anxious guard, shifting his attention between spell, sight, and sound. A strange feeling washed over both men for just an instant: an intense desire to create something.

The Library door immediately to Primordial’s right swung open, and there was a pair of rapid, soft footsteps. Two female figures came around the corner into the amphitheater.

Melpomene practically bumped into Primordial before taking a half-step backwards and looking him over in the same way a little girl might look over a puppy to decide if she wants it. “You don't seem familiar. Are you one of Our servants who studies here?”

The Baron looked down at the girls passively with a slight smile. “No,” he said seeing no reason to lie. “I serve another but have no interest in disrespecting my hosts while present in their realm.” Internally he cursed himself for thinking they could avoid detection but figured that given they weren’t turning him into a plant or a bull that was at the very least a good sign.

“You’re one of the visitors Our servants invited? The one they call God-fearer said two had come.”

Primordia nodded biting his tongue. His own experience gave him a great deal of respect and mostly fear for deities. He was luckly they were only earthly gods but the difference was miniscule given how much power he could feel radiating around them.

Melpomene returned his nod politely, a perhaps-surprising gesture for a goddess. “Our Servants have built us a magnificent home here. It attracts many mortals who come to seek what they’ve gathered in Our names. What have you come to seek, mortal?”

Primordial paused at the question looking at Sandy for a spark of guidance. He knew he couldn’t stall long but just how truthful could they be? Could they risk anything but the truth if the Muses could hear their thoughts? What if they could hear him debating it in his head right now? The paranoia was not an enjoyable sensation but seeing no hints from Sandy he decided to stick to the best policy. “We come seeking knowledge. The works in this magnificent house of yours are unparalleled, we hope to learn as much as can.”

Thalia had passed by Primordial on her way to Sandy, walking up to him and running her fingers through his mane, a familiar, almost intimate gesture. “Who brought our Pegasus to us?”

Sandy had turned his big head to see who was coming, then stood frozen in place, terrified during Thalia's short approach. It was one thing to tell a goddess a joke, not expecting an answer, and quite another to know what to say to her. He wanted to say something, but didn't know what. “I've so wanted to meet you!” seemed too much like a teenage fanboy, and “So, why did you loan me your magic flying horse?” seemed far too direct a question for so great a gift.

Those worries disappeared at Thalia's touch. Sandy instantly felt the desire to write something funny. That's it, a comic history of Greece! It would stretch all the way from the comic barbarism of Mycenae to the dark comedy of their internecine wars, mocking humor at their defeat of a bumbling Persia, followed by schadenfreude over there inability to recognize that the Macedonian hillbillies were force to be reckoned with until it was too late! Passages flowed into his mind: devastating jabs at inept leaders mixed with the hilarity of ease with which Greek culture tamed the Mediterranean basin.

Sandy realized what he felt: this was her inspiring touch, the aura that filled the Mouseion following from its source. Would he remember any of his great ideas when she let go, or was it a sort of waking dream, gone like a soap bubble popping? She was, in any case, not like the divinities back home. Giovenith was a child, not come into her full adult power – would she manifest an aura as well? – and the Chaos “gods” were avatars or fragments of real Chaos gods, but not the whole things. Mab was a goddess, but a Fae trickster: perhaps she didn't share her gifts with men or mortals.

Thalia brushed her fingers down the side of his neck, across his shoulder, and then to base of his wing. Only Amanda had ever done that before, once long ago, when he first showed her he could work real magic. A hint of lightness came to her voice, “You're a funny one, sorcerer, serving Kleo above the rest of us, but not willing to show us your face for her to glorify.” A play on words meant for his ears: Kleo's name shared the root of “famous”.

Sandy trembled, his wings shaking: he should do what Thalia asked, but then what? Reluctantly, he nodded, then let his transforming spell fade. Thalia's hand fell to her side as the wing it rested on rapidly became Sandy's own arm coming down. He swallowed hard, and started to speak, but Thalia was easily faster to respond. “Oh! The joke-teller! What's your name, humorist?”

Sandy finally found his voice, though it was strained. “S-” He almost spoke English before catching himself and switching to Greek. “My father named me Sandy-ford, after an ancestor born near a river crossing, but here I'm called Erythros because of my color.”

“Well, Sandy-ford, your jest brightened Helikon and Olympus for a day.” Thalia stopped for a moment, considering what she’d overheard of her sister’s conversation with Primordial. “And then you would be the other visitor spoken of. Which of the things dedicated to us do you come for?”

“I-I… I first came to study magic, to teach at a, um, distant school. We face the threat of --” No, too close to the real truth. “But you also have all of Aristophanes, and I’ve already enjoyed a play I’d never seen before. Thank you.”

“And yes, to read history. The Librarians have collected some of the oldest there is, though they don’t recognize it.” Oh, shit! What if she asks about the Linear B? How do I explain--

Fortunately, Sandy’s worry was cut off by Thalia’s laughter and Melpomene looking across the distance to him. The latter smiled bitterly. “Much they don’t realize, though they think they do. Sometimes, they think they are Our masters, not Our servants.”

The bitter smile brightened somehow, but remained oddly sad. “What have you done with our Pegasus since you’ve borrowed him?”

That stopped Sandy cold: mostly he’d simply flown for fun, hardly a suitable use for a divine mascot. He groped for something better to say. “I… well, I saved some people from a stampede, though I had help from a goddess.” Godling, but who’s asking? “And I helped some villagers get some new sheep after theirs had been killed in a battle. Though in truth, the sheep were not theirs to take, and they’d tricked us into helping us steal them.” That brought a smile to Thalia’s face, and a bigger one to Melpomene’s. “And then we” -- he nodded in Primordial’s direction -- “drove off … dragons with flight and lightning to get a woman to a doctor.”

Melpomene’s expression suddenly soured, causing her sister to point and double over with laughter. When Thalia stood up back, she spoke through giggles, “Keep that up, and nobody will sing sad songs about your fate, Sandy-ford.”

by **Holy Lykos** » Mon Sep 25, 2017 1:19 am

Booze-Run Part II
Into the Bowl

Northwest Slobovia wrote:"Roman Empire? It's ruled from where? [...] A city called Byzantion?"

"Byzantion? You mean the Roman trading port on the Straits? Why would that be their capitol? No, its Rome, like it always has been. From what I learned of the old Eastern Empire, they had it as their capitol for a short time, but mostly switched between Athens, Antioch, and Alexandria depending on Imperial whims and what they controlled at the time. I believe right now all three cities are in the hand of Serklanders, whether Asian Christian or Moslem. The Romans have been attempting to reclaim the territories of Greece from the Serklander Turks recently though. Byzantion was the major staging area for pushes into Greece and Asia. I was aiding a push down towards Efesos when I was pulled back to join the Chosen, specifically."

Sig took a break for the magic conversation, though, to try his own little fish cutlets. Much like Amanda's, they were strange tasting but still filling enough. Sig went through his meal quickly, before tossing the leaf aside. "I agree about the human spices. And I've never heard of this Justinian. I know of Justinians but none supremely notable in relation to Roman law. Though being a warrior myself law is not of huge concern to myself."

Northwest Slobovia wrote: "Where I'm from, the little magic that remains is no different than electricity... or like the wind or flowing water. If you know how to work it, it does what you want. But it is interesting learning of the Baron's transactional approach to religion, though he makes deals with dangerous counterparties."

"Magic? The only magic I know is that of the seiðkonur and seiðmenn. Seiðr and other such magics are mostly performed among the women of course. Magic isn't a man's thing to learn and perform in my culture at least. Only the effeminate and strange resort to esoteric methods.

"But I believe I've seen the power faith can bring to the Serklanders. Divine furor much like the beserker rage, and the occasional interventions to prevent the death of someone. Midgard can be strange, but from what I've heard these powers have diminished since older times, such as the ages of the Sagas in my own belief. The gods are rarer to walk among men than they used to for some reason. Rare are the personages of divine blood such as the demigods of the Olympians in the Roman beliefs.

"I believe the some of Serklanders profess to follow what could be considered the last true demigod of Midgard if its true that the gods rarely walk among us anymore. Some woodworker from centuries ago born through divine intervention. I've forgotten his name though. The other main group of Serklanders deny this divinity and put forth their own prophet as the final divinely inspired personage though." Sig shrugged before continuing. "My people have only just truly began spreading and exploring that far south so I'm very uncertain about its history and magics. The ones I'm more familiar with would be the old Germanic schools found among the Arians still, and those of my own people and the Slavs. But I also never paid much attention to magic. Raising hundur, hunting, the Sagas, and the basics of being a warrior were primary things I learned from my tutelage under Holmgeir."

It took Sig a moment to realize they would have no idea who this person was. The viking wasn't always the fastest thinker. "Ah, Holmgeir is one of my fathers generals and friends. He helped my father depose the traitor king of Norrærík and take up the crown himself. Politics from before my birth, involving the conflict between our old ways and the ways of the Arians I believe."

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Mon Sep 25, 2017 5:08 pm

RotLB

Fate? Thalia said ‘fate’. Sandy looked hopefully at the Baron, then realized he’d gotten the same look not too long ago. For a moment, neither goddess was watching them closely, and Sandy mouthed the English words at him, “Should we mention the ‘fate’?”

The Muses seemed pleased, or at least not hostile. Sandy had done a good job justifying his use of the pegasus body and the Baron was confident that the Muses were not going to hurt them or delay them too much. If they planned to they would have done so already. So long as they framed their ‘theft’ as ‘protection’ he saw no issue in granting them an enlightened view of history. He nodded at Sandy.

Sandy returned the nod with a returned nervousness. He had to be careful about what he said, and he unconsciously ran a hand down the back of his head and massaged his neck for a few seconds before thinking of something. “There is… something more to Melpomene’s liking, something men will lament.”

Thalia abruptly stopped her chuckling, and Melpomene turned a serious face to Sandy. “We’ve heard an oracle.” Both goddesses’ eyes bored into Sandy: that was nothing to trifle with. Sandy took a deep breath, and hoped what came out was suitably Delphic. “‘The house of scrolls will pass into Kleo’s realm before winter.’” The sister-goddesses turned to each other, wearing stony expressions. “We hope to help your servants… survive? Save something? We’re not sure what we can do.”

Melpomene came up to Sandy, Primordial forgotten, a new commanding tone to her voice. “You went to Delphi? Our Choirmaster’s shrine?”

Sandy shook his head. “Another oracle.”

She cocked her head. “Which?”

Oh, boy! Another deep breath. “I’m not sure you’ll believe me, but… an oracle of Kleo’s, of a sort. Men study history to try to predict the future. Sometimes Kleo is an excellent teacher.”

The two goddesses glanced at each other. Melpomene opened her mouth, but it was Thalia who had the quicker tongue. “We’ll talk to our sister about this oracle. It would be hard to believe you indeed, but few mortals offer twice to the gods in one day.” A smile came to her face. “Not all fates are sad or funny. Some are both.” Melpomene caught the implied threat, and a wicked grin curled her mouth: some horrible fates were sweet indeed.

The two goddesses turned away from Sandy and swept past Primordial faster than either could react. Not that they were lightning fast, but that they both men lacked an idea of what to say or do. The nearby door swung open, then clicked shut, and the Muses were gone.

Primordial and Sandy stared at each other for a little while, unsure what to think. As the silence began to stretch, the Baron suggested Sandy finish what the came for. Sandy nodded dumbly: if the Muses returned, he’d tell them more… but they never asked why he was Pegasus in the first place.

Sandy returned to his equine form. He needed only a few minutes to make sense of the many enchantments on the Library. He became human again, whispering to the Baron as they started to walk past the dining room (with the Library and workrooms closed to them for the night, they had to take the long way around). “It doesn’t seem anything is Veiled or Masked. I’d say they rely on the sheer potency of their magic to prevent people from doing what we want to. We’ll need to get their help for your magic to affect the walls, or to summon anything within the Library. We… don’t have the sort of spells they’re trying to prevent.”

“But they came when I brought Pegasus, and that probably will work again. If not, we get ask one of their priests. In the worst case, one of us…. Um, probably me, could enter the naos to get their attention. I-- It’s hard to say how they’ll react, but it’s their shrine that’ll be one we’re saving.”

As they walked back to the dormitory, Sandy's holocam vibrated, and he realized to his horror that he'd left it on. While this was good for having images of the Muses, it was worse because of how much memory he'd wasted during dinner. He shut it off, shaking his head in annoyance.

The rest of the evening was spent in reflection, preparing for the morning’s lectures, and a little work on the Linear B rubbings. Sandy knew what he was looking for. He had some keys already, the words tosos, Knossos, and Aminossos, the latter’s port city. The Baron needed an explanation of Linear B, it being syllabic and partially pictograms, but he quickly got the hang of it. By the end of evening, they had a few dozen words worked out. Whatever was on the Argive tablets wasn’t an inventory, but might be a bit of history or a poem.

They returned to the amphitheater long enough for Primordial to hide the bag of magic in the brush in the corner. They found the dining room all but empty -- a few soldiers coming off long watches and a handful of kitchen staff was it -- so Sandy felt safe in getting out the databall and showing Myra where Nick was, which was coincidentally a good place to bring the gate.

Back in their rooms, Sandy walked the databall around, pointing out their possessions that would have to be removed if they couldn’t get back to the dorm after the fire. Sandy hoped that would come soon, before the Muses began to doubt him.

by **Mincaldenteans** » Mon Sep 25, 2017 10:18 pm

OPERATION: LAST CHANCE
DIMENSION: 4590K
LOCATION: Xo'Lok, Vim System, HZSC space
TEAMS: SECRET OMEGA TENTACLE

"Get us around!" Maureen barked into the intercom, ignoring the pilots annoyance to her previous grumbles. Instead of contending with her attitude, the shuttle swept up and around in a wide path, keeping her side in view of the battle beneath them. The acceleration forced the padawan to keep her balance with a hand firmly holding onto a bulkhead from the rapid maneuver. Adding to annoyance was Venla approaching and keeping station next to her which was all too close.

Choosing to ignore her irritation, she barked another order through the shared intercom, "Open the hatch by another 25 centimeters. Venla, grab your rifle quickly!" Maureen took aim as soon as the shuttle slowed and the opening widened enough so that Venla could take her station next to Maureen rather than a hairspace between the two of them. The attacking creature was advancing upon Macy and Romulus, and Maureen quickly tucked her rifle between the space where arm and shoulder met, gripping the harder until she felt the tiny joints in her fingers strain with the effort as she took aim.

Taking a breath and steadying it the best she could, Maureen pulled the trigger as fast as the rifle could recharge and reload. The energy discharges soared through the air and landed into the blob, striking its body like tiny lighting storms within the creature. Some shots were entirely missed as Maureen wasn't firing based on proficiency and everything to do with panic and urgency.

She was expecting some kind of recoil, though to her surprise she hadn't felt one which was testament to the weapon's design or her own adrenaline pumping; Maureen couldn't tell (or be bothered, really) as she kept pulling the trigger, giving a few moments between each to reorient her aim so as to keep her shots as steady as possible.

by **Chedastan** » Mon Sep 25, 2017 11:03 pm

OPERATION: LAST CHANCE
DIMENSION: 4590K
LOCATION: Xo'Lok, Vim System, HZSC space
TEAMS: SECRET OMEGA TENTACLE

An internal needle stabbed into Romulus, his pupils started to shoot up, he quickly stood up and lifted his blade sluggishly with his stiff mighty arm as the blob rose around him and Macy. “Servos… Servos got fucked up, I’m still with it…” He could’ve swore he saw something crucial from the beast while they were underwater, like a core to its bloby shape.

Steam came off his back, the hydrogen engine to his armor was going into overdrive and was beginning to sound more like a steam locomotive or a loud trench whistle due to all the water.

CHOOOOO!

His hand held a iron grip onto the hilt of his sword, it’s glow remaining despite everything that it has cut through in its existence. From the lowest of drones and conscripts, to the highest of queens and special forces. It held in great opposition to the Sulwynn that surrounded them like a wave, and Romulus simply started to hold straight as the creature came crashing in like a crazed tidal wave.

“We’ll fight you on the beach…” He muttered to himself as he got smacked by the blob yet again. It crashed at his armored shape like a wave to a lighthouse, he held his stance in the sand just barely, but if only because the blob had gotten just as weak too. He noticed right away of the shots of energy that Maureen was shooting it with from the ship flying overhead of them, which had obviously been causing more harm for the already brutalized blob.

A subsequent slice and a slash beaten the creature off him once again, a spiteful 37mm round that followed then only made it slightly deformed. His muddled lenses searched for a core in the beast, and found it in plain view in its center. Bearing for a powerful swing, he lunged at it and stabbed it decisively until it the core was dissolved and boiled into nothing.

A hissing was the last sound it gave out after giving a loud, seemingly unrelenting, horrific scream. Black primer had dripped from his armor like a watery oil substance, the repairs he’ll need for his suit will be a real bitch to handle for sure. “I think we got it.” He groaned as he removed his sword from the ground. “Someone remind me to file an appointment with those techpriests when we get back.”

Angels of Avalon

Francine could only really give a weak shrug, “I’m sorry, but Abelle can’t just show up here from across the entire continental US on short notice. We would be more than happy to send you folks out of here but it’ll be far more organized if we have you leave as a team together to get to where we need you.” She tried to explain to the Godling, though one of her sisters then spoke up.

“We could just send them off to wait in the backroom lounge, the one with the pinball machines.” She suggested, to which her eldest sister simply nodded in agreement, “Alright, we’ll have you all wait there as we sort things out.” She then flew over them to guide the five towards where the room was.

Inside it was quite dusty and smelled of a weird musk, the group had been left to their own devices after the Matriarchs decided to respect their privacy for once since their arrival to Avalon.

Of course this is when the group was then unceremoniously teleported back to the Building that was still left in its hectic state, obviously on account of Klaus having had the databall in hand to get them fetched out of the perilous dimension to get the group back home to sort through the pieces and possibly change their gameplan.

Booze-Run Part II
Into the Bowl

The courier blinked her eyes, “Rome you said, Romulus’ tyranny filled empire?” She listened to what the Norseman had to say, and gave a simple attentive nod in return.

“My people were driven underground on account of that man and his legacy, all because of our worship to the Pantheon of our Gods. Of course that happened over two thousand years ago, so I’m uncertain if Rome is still around, at least not in the form that my people last knew them on the surface.” She only gave a simple comment on the mentioned subject, adding a little input to the conversation.

by **Giovenith** » Tue Sep 26, 2017 10:54 am

Giovenith pushed her fingers through her helmet's cage bits to rub her eyes. How quickly that had gone by! She still wasn't entirely sure what happened. How long had they been gone?

"Better check in," she told the others, and made her way to the lobby.

"Geo-puzzle!"

The godling sighed and braced herself for Sallow, only to find herself quickly embraced by a warmer, more neatly dressed visage of they grey one. It took her a few seconds to process.

"Willow!" The one and original! She hugged the pegasus-pony back tightly and rejoiced in his presence. He had finally been returned to her. "Where have you been, young stallion?!" she demanded, holding him away. "Do you have any idea what we've been through without you?!"

Willow held her arm and nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. It's a long story, but I'll make it up to you."

Giovenith pouted. "You better."

And they embraced happily again.

Willow opened one eye. "What's with the football helmet?"

Giovenith blinked, suddenly remembering, and tapped the helmet with her hand. "It uh, well, that's a bit of a long story too."

Sallow watched the two from some way off. He put his hooves together before giving a satisfied smile and nod. Then, silently as the paper he was made from, he flew off back to the library where his kind belonged.

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Tue Sep 26, 2017 3:20 pm

RotLB

The databall peeped its early-morning alarm, and Sandy again washed and dressed in near darkness. He got Primordial out of bed before dawn, too. “I want to get breakfast early and quickly, so we can keep people away from where we hid the Balm and Nick's collar.”

The Baron and Sandy ate light breakfasts relative to what each regarded as normal. While the dining room was packed, as Sandy watched people slowly fill the amphitheater for his lecture, he noticed that the crowd seemed thinner than yesterday. Only three of the Readers were present: Zethos, Deinon, and Deisitheos, though a conversation overheard indicated that Teisias was in an over-long meeting with generals in their make-shift campus headquarters. Sandy attributed the rest of the drop-off from yesterday being to due him talking about an elementary topic, something of a let down from yesterday's overview.

Just before Sandy was to start lecturing, three priests of the Muses took seats in a back corner: Isadoros [the high priest], the young priestess Sandy talked to a day ago, and another priest neither man had seen before. They were trying to be nonchalant, but both Primordial and Sandy recognized that the three priests were keeping an eye on them. Sandy started the holocam in case they said something worth preserving. After yesterday's mistake, he had too little memory to have any hope of just recording the Discussion of Magic.

The Baron found an excuse to whisper to Sandy, “I can sense something is a flux. Be prepared. Be alert. If something happens give me a sign. I have your back.”

Sandy replied with a tiny nod, keeping his voice low. “I’m not sure if their presence means our hosts trust us and they want somebody ready, or if they’re suspicious, and they want their followers to watch us.”

Primordial shrugged. He didn’t have an answer but kept his guard up and his senses alert.

Sandy worked the “new” magical vocabulary and concepts he'd learned yesterday into a 21st century presentation, holding his speakers rapt for almost ten minutes. Then there was a confused set of muffled sounds from the the avenue, followed immediately by shouts, screams, and trumpet calls.

Teisias' disembodied voice filled the amphitheater. “Romans are assaulting the palace wall! Duty casters to their positions! They broke our scryward! Use caution off campus, you're visible to enemy casters! Duty casters to their positions!” Part of the audience scrambled out of the amphitheater, rushing along the colonnade past the medical library and out of sight.

The rest of the audience seemed surprisingly calm for a battle not a hundred feet away, and Zethos stood up, approached the stage, and told Sandy to go on. “The Romans try to break out every so often. The fighting will die down soon, and once we recast our scryward, the battle will stop.”

Sandy had little trouble regaining the scholars' attention despite the muddy sounds of shouted orders, the thud of heavy impacts, and faint chanting that must be group spellcasting. His lecturing started uncertainly, but as the sounds from outside started to quiet, he regained his normal flowing style.

Minutes later, however, Sandy's lecture was interrupted again. A Librarian entered the room panting, frantically looked around, located Zethos, and whispered something to him. Whatever the message was, Zethos was electrified by it, and he quickly rounded up a few more people and sent the bunch of them running off.

Less than a minute had passed when doors on the Library started slamming open, followed by the slap of running sandals. Pythokeles rounded the corner of the natural science and history building and shouted. “Fire! Major fire! Something is loose in the Library! A demon or spirit of flame!”

The plot thickens Primordial thought and had to suppress a wicked grin he felt rising.

Zethos took command as the lecture broke into confusion, ordering people to get water from the dining room and cistern and conjure more, telling Deinon and Deisitheos to try to control the demon, and sending somebody off to tell Teisias. At the end of that, he gave Primordial and Sandy a peremptory order. “Stay here! You'll be safe here. I'll send for you if we need more help.” And then he too ran off.

Sandy didn't even bother to wait, heading over to the corner where they'd hidden the Balm and turning his back on the departing audience to get out the databall and hiss an update into it. “Gate control, this is Mu, Sandy speaking. The fire has started. The fire has started. Be ready with the gate. Tell Velum to stand by.” Sandy dropped the ball back into his pouch.

Primordial had already begun to prepare his jewellry was rolling fill footage recording everything that happened in case he needed it for later. He pressed another one of his smart rings and it popped up a crude map he had sketched out of the Library. It didn’t have many fine details, Insidious was the artist not Primordial, but it marked the last known location of the books he had wanted and some of the more important magical wards. He reminded himself of the details then marked his location on the map and told it to track his progress.

He pulled his dagger out of its sheath and held it tightly as he looked at Sandy. “Let’s get a move on.”

Sandy opened his other money pouch and got out the Veiled box. It mattered little if anybody Saw it; they’d be gone soon anyway. He opened it and shook out two smoke-resistance potions. “Drink!” He tossed one to Primordial, and drank the other, shoving the empty vial back in the pouch. “We’ll need the Balm, too, and Nick’s collar.”

The Baron knocked back the bottle with surprising speed and looked at Sandy. “Do you need the bottle again?”

“Keep it, but leave no traces. It’s not locally made.”

The Baron nodded and dropped it letting it shatter. He then reached out with the Fist and scoped the shards up into his pocket. He then turned and used his powers to grab the Balm and Nick’s Collar from the corner. Once he had all of the items stored safely he nodded again “I’m good to go, should I take point?”.

“Give me one of the jars of the Balm, just in case. And… let me get us some protection and enhancements.” Sandy glanced over his shoulder. Other than the three priests keeping a respectful distance, everybody was gone. “Well, whatever they’re here for, they’re gonna see that we can prepared.” In rapid succession, Sandy cast the Critique of the Heat, the Eyes, Ears, and Nose of the Wolf, and Adonis’ Boon on both men. Good thing Sandy didn’t have anything else he expected to cast; that was enough for a day.

Groups of people had run past the entrance to the amphitheater as Sandy cast spells, but the Baron had a poor line of sight, and didn’t see who they were.

They turned and started to run for the nearest door, but they were intercepted by the Muses’ priests. Isadoros said, “Melpomene spoke to us this morning when we opened the temple. It seems your prophecy is true, but the doom it foretold arrived almost immediately. How can we and the Muses help?”

Sandy was simultaneously pleased and annoyed with Isadoros: he’d need the help, but they were between Primordial, him, and the door. “For the moment, have them sustain my spells as they sustain the Librarians’.”

Isadoros turned to the other priest, “You heard! Go!” And the younger man ran off.

Sandy added another request: “Just wait here. Our magic protects us against the fire, but unless the Muses can help you with that…” The high priest shook his head and led the priestess to the nearest amphitheater bench.

Primordial and Sandy hurried around the corner, yanked the history building’s door open and… stepped carefully over the wrecked, burning furniture in front of them. Smoke was already filling the building, and fire seemed to be everywhere.

Sandy placed a hand on the Baron’s shoulder. “Let’s take a second to look around.”

The scene resolved itself into swathes of destruction: overturned furniture, scattered scrolls, and unidentifiable flaming debris roughly tracing the routes between doors. As they watched, the fire seemed to die in places; the Library’s enchantments were doing their best to save the books, but seemed overwhelmed but the size of the fires. Fortunately, all of the fire was on the ground floor, not in the galleries where the Discussion of Magic and the Africa travelogue were kept.

Librarians had formed a bucket brigade, trying to extinguish the worst parts of the fire themselves, a few were grabbing bins of scrolls to take outside, but most were clustered around a somewhat man-shaped pillar of flame that reached nearly to the high ceiling. Deinon clawed at the air around him, and as he did, hunks of flame tore from the creature and disappeared. Most of the Librarians seemed to be chanting some sort of ritual, led by Deisitheos. Both Sandy and Primordial came to the same reasonable conclusion, though neither could Sense the magic from here: the ritual was holding the fire beast in place while Deinon attacked it.

“But how…?” Sandy started in confusion “They should be overwhelmed by the smoke. There!” He pointed to the gallery nearly overhead: Teisias stood by himself. “He’s got a… an immense spell up, sustaining them. He’s a mage, like Kale, but with life magic.” As Sandy spoke, he felt the burden of sustaining his spells lift, and he was momentarily surrounded by the Muses’ Chorus, though he Heard only four parts to their magic-music.

[OOC: Collab with Prim]

by **Holy Lykos** » Tue Sep 26, 2017 11:32 pm

OPERATION: LAST CHANCE
DIMENSION: 4590K
LOCATION: Xo'Lok, Vim System, HZSC space
TEAMS: SECRET OMEGA TENTACLE

With the electric blasts of energy spiking down from Venla and Maureen's rifles the sulwynn seemed to falter in its surging attack, before regaining momentum to crash against romulus and Macy. The rush of force practically threw the android away from Romulus, but a corrosive pseudopod shot out to grab at her leg and start pulling her back into the conflagration of hissing, acrid slime that boiled and roiled around Romulus's armor as he pushed and pushed through the pressure. It was lucky the General had his armor and sword, or this monster might have been a much harder tribulation for the team.

As the General approached and attacked with gun and blade, the sulwynn seemed to recoil and retreat. It was almost seeming terrified for its life, the injury and damage it was sustaining at this point made it near impossible to maintain the original rodent-like form it had. It looked more like a ball of slime and electricity and burnt mass than a proper creature, and the decisive blows of the General sealed its fate. The unearthly screech seemed to emanate from the whole creature as it began to practically melt in front of them. It was that moment that the gathering clouds that the group had been much too busy to notice broke, starting to pelt down on the city with subtropical rain. The reddish and black burnt gunk at Romulus's feet was slowly soaking into the sand, leaving more corrosive burns as it swept into the water. for good.

The General by now would note the radioactivity level had almost dropped to the planet's background level already, now that the source was washing away. Of course, it would play havoc with the bay at their fore but the city would recover. But he might also notice that the core he had stabbed through had left a solid piece on the sand, deep red. Another shot from the landing ship blazed through the air, and the last piece of the core was shattered with Venla's rifle.

As the shuttle began to touch down in the wreck of the marketplace, Venla bounded out with some sort of container in hand. She scooped up the red tinged sand and the scraps of the core into it, before sealing it up tight. "Sulwynn slime is actually surprisingly useful. Its possible to derive a powerful anesthetic from it, removing the corrosive properties, and the inverse its good for eating through most materials, even nuclear slag. That's why they're often radioactive too, they adapted to a planet with an excessively high background radiation level, and the feral ones cant shield their natural radioactivity from seeping into the environment. Either way, I think the people back at the building might find some use for this sample."

The Xo that had been with Romulus skittered up at this point, as Etzic peered at the red stained sand at Romulus's feet. His nose twitched and he frowned. Venla and the Xo leader had a quick little conversation, that seemed to only make Venla look more worried. Eventually, she stepped up to the reassembled team.

"I think... Its time we went back to the building. I'll send the data and intel we collected to the research station, but this seems something bigger than we can deal with. But we helped save this city and its people so we can consider that a victory. Nex will probably have a more thorough search of the rest of the planet now that our attempt failed, but our Xo friends have provided a lead. The HZ fleet in orbit will also help the natives with cleaning up their city and rebuilding with their own materials, since this was a disaster caused by our involvement on the planet.

"But we're done here. Romulus' armor is near ruined, and we'll need to make sure Macy didn't suffer too much damage too. Though if we can go on a supply run back to this dimension... I think I know somewhere that could help with the repairs, or at least provide a useful material for the repairs...." Venla's nose twitched and she gave a weak smile as she glanced over the ruined armor. Macy's leg didn't look to good either, but seemed serviceable for the function of... well being a leg.

"We've done our job, though, and we will be taking these weapons back. We did get asked to bring back some weapons after all, and as you can see they're well made. Another thing to reverse engineer at the building to improve our arsenal. I can tell the shuttle to head back up to the station with the sensor readings it was taking, and after I talk with Nex we should be good to go."

--------------------

Another conversation over the communicator, and assuring the shaken Xo that they would be safe in their own city now, and Venla stepped into the ship with the rest of the group. After telling the pilot what the plan was, Venla ordered the recall and soon enough they were back at the Gatehouse. They'd actually be back in time for the residents meeting, but Romulus would likely have to leave his armor in the lobby or somewhere else. Etzic also had come back with them, given he had nowhere else to really go and the HZ would likely have just detained him within their borders for much of the rest of his life, so he might as well join them as residents and perhaps offer his skills there too.

But they were back, and their job was more or less done. They'd been gone quite a long time though, so it may take a good bit of reintegration to catch up. But that would most likely be easier than fighting a corrosive predator like a sulwynn.

They also seemed, by chance, to be arriving back at around the same time as another team, one that included a fuzzy little colorful rodent, a stern adult human, and a rabbit. But that was likely just mere coincidence.

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Wed Sep 27, 2017 3:10 pm

RotLB
“Let’s not stand around,” The Baron said, looking up to the gallery above. “Let’s go upstairs while people are busy. The longer we wait the more likely someone will notice us or the creature will get loose. Do you want to split up? I can grab the items in the Foreign Works if you grab the Discussion of Magic.”

Sandy nodded distractedly, already looking at how he’d get upstairs. “Remember the radios. Stay in touch, since I have the ball.”

The Baron checked that his radio-button worked, then ducked back out the door and started down the colonnade heading for the Foreign Works Building while avoiding the interior fires.

Sandy glanced over his shoulder, and realized that the Baron’s route was also faster for him, and gave chase, following a few strides behind. Sandy reached the History Building’s double doors, and ducked inside. He’d barely taken a careful step to the nearest staircase, when there was a deafening *CRACK* from further down the the building, easily audible on the Baron’s radio. He whipped his head around to that direction, and saw what smoke hid from the Librarians: the fire-creature’s heat was breaking one of the great marble columns that held up the roof. Sandy lept back behind the heavy bronze door, peering out with one eye.

The column drum burst from the heat stress, flinging hunks of marble through the air. The rest of the column fell gracefully along with it, the drums shattering on impact with the floor, adding more marble shrapnel. The series of crashes reverberated through the building, and the Baron’s radio picked them up as well.

The shards of marble mowed down nearly everybody on the main floor; smaller fragments ricocheted off the door Sandy was hiding behind. Sandy looked up and Saw the strands of magic linking Teisias to Librarians surge and vanish, followed by the thud as he collapsed to the ground. He must have tried to heal them, and completely exhausted himself.

The Baron meanwhile maintained his dogged pursuit. He kept watching his surroundings careful of any debris or collapse like the one he had heard before. He wanted to avoid using his powers too much or he might risk needing to make a sacrifice once he ran out of stored power. Sprinting towards the door he drew on as much speed he could never letting his eyes stray too long.

The Baron and Sandy heard the building groan and creak, the Ears of the Wolf extending that to a grinding below human hearing and a screeching rasp above it. Sandy’s eyes followed the sound up: the thick wooden truss that held that section of the roof was starting to bend, threatening to bring down part of the roof. The Baron’s understanding of the sounds outside was improved by his previous study of the architecture: the overloaded wall was shifting under the uneven load. He was concerned that one of the Foreign Works building’s roof slabs might slide off as well, crashing into the colonnade ahead of him. His estimate was that if one did, it would land around the corner, shielding him from the worst of the inevitable fragments.

As the Baron neared the door of the Foreign works building he was growing more confident that something vital was about to collapse. As he rounded the corner, he heard the slab above him and to his right start to slip. He wasn’t sure if he could make it to the door before it hit the ground.

Better safe than sorry the Baron though, and reached out, pushing against the slab with his powers as he drew closer. It was surprisingly heavy and he realized he had underestimated how much it weighed. He drew on his cane and the Elder Crystals stored inside for an extra boost. He didn’t maintain it long however, and once he was sure he was past the stone and free of any danger he relaxed. He was running out of energy, he would likely only have one more good use before he needed to make a sacrifice.

Sandy heard the odd doubled sounds of the Baron’s quick footfalls behind him and on his radio. He stuck his head out beyond the door to check the distance and route to the stairs: not far, and with his magically-enhanced abilities, jumping broken chairs and bits of marble wouldn’t slow him down much. One! Two! Three! Then he did a bit of broken running and leaping to the ladder and raced up it. The truss’ groaning became a series of sharp, booming cracks, and Sandy dove for cover between two rows of bookcases close to Teisias and the Discussion of Magic, and pressed his palms over his ears. This was going to be loud.

As the Baron sprinted to the door, the roof slab started its accelerating slide and fall. He poured on the speed, helped by Sandy’s magic. The slab smashed through the roof of the colonnade, tearing it down, shattering both. The echoes in the narrow space were deafening; the Baron’s ears would ring for a while afterwards. The rubble behind him made a wide pile, a bit high in places, but likely crossable, if slow.

That sound was just a whisper compared to the final bass crack as the truss broke, followed shortly by smashing sounds as it disintegrated when it hit the floor. Hunks of wood joined marble shards flying through air and scattered on the floor. Sandy started counting seconds. He got to four-one-thousand before the roof slab joined the truss. The impact was tremendous; Sandy felt it almost as much as heard it. Even through his hands, the series of sounds left Sandy with the high buzz of ears pushed far too far. Toward the end of the crashing, Sandy felt the gallery shake. He didn’t need to check to know that something large must have hit another column.

Sandy got slowly to his feet. He took three steps over to Teisias and knelt by him, checking his pulse and breathing. He was still alive! Sandy glanced between him and the bookcase: books first, then the man. It was backwards, but for all Sandy knew, Teisias was ‘supposed to’ die now.

Sandy quick-stepped to the bookcase holding the Discussion, it wasn’t far. He slowed once he entered the right aisle, scanning the bins. When he found the right one, he grabbed it. After a moment’s thought, he tucked it under one arm and awkwardly pulled out another, shifting his grip and juggling it to get that one under the other arm. Magic has many uses.

Sandy took the stairs quickly, then picked his way across the floor, leaving the two bins just outside the Library’s doors. He returned for Teisias, throwing him on his back, and simply kicking debris out of the way on his way to the door.

The Baron reached the far door of the Foreign Works building without further incident. As he started to make his way in, he encountered two Librarians stumbling out, coughing, with tearing eyes. One he recognized from the previous day as a mathematician, the other carried a bin heaped with scrolls in both hands. “It’s *cough* bad in there, and just got worse! There was a horrible sound and then part of the roof fell, and the fires grew. *coughcoughcough* Ophelas is dead. Some sort of accident in the testing workshop.”

“Be careful inside, the smoke and heat are intolerable.”

Primordial had to ask the scholar to repeat himself, as the ringing in his ears drowned out his words the first time. He briefly considered killing them for more magical power but decided against it. Too likely to draw attention.

From a position just inside the door, Primordial could see the magically-transparent smoke pouring up through the hole in the roof. The fires were burning more fiercely than he’d seen in the other building, doubtless because of the draft. The fires were slowly spreading along the ground floor bookcases -- many of them overturned -- but the gallery was still clear. There were a few bodies on the floor, though no injuries were visible.

Primordial moved quickly into the room, avoiding ever danger he could. Moving towards the center of the room, he looked up at the second story so he could see the bins containing the African Book, he reached out with The Fist and scooped up the bin bring it down to his feet and setting it down before wheeling around to face the bins containing the Dawn Ritual. Another use of The Fist called it down to him and placed it next to the African Bin. He was building up a sweat and knew he was getting to the end of his rope as smoke curled through the air.

Steeling himself, he turned toward the Linear B tablets. Rather than floating each of them over individually he reached out to grab the entire shelf and slid the entire thing towards the door. He was in a precarious spot and figured that since he would likely be making multiple trips already keeping the tablets close to the door would be more economical. So he floated them between the flames and debris, putting them down as close as he could so they wouldn’t be at any risk.

[OOC: Collab with Prim]

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Fri Sep 29, 2017 3:37 pm

RotLB
In the dining room, a sneeze startled Nick from sleep. Inhaling, he caught a scent more associated with Island fun than with disaster. Fully awake now, he blinked and called urgently over radio and link. ”It's started?! Sorry! Can I reach you? Where do you need me?.” Meanwhile, he walked along the wall, expecting to avoid hot spots, but the colonnade was wide enough that the entire wall was cool to his touch.

”Nick! I’m just outside! Let me meet you!” Sandy left Teisias on the walkway, not sure what else to do with him. He appeared uninjured, though he may be been overcome by heat or smoke. Sandy bounded through the dining room’s double doors. ”Nick, I’m a bit deaf right now, so stick to telepathy I was in the Library when part of the roof fell in. Primordial has your collar, but you’ll need this.” Sandy pulled the remaining smoke resistance potion out, opened the vial’s top, and held it so Nick could drink.

The cat obliged, gulping it as quickly as he could in spite of its slight spicy taste. Inhaling, he focused - specifically on Sandy. “Thanks, that feels much better. Do we need an overhead view? If I climb atop the rubble...”

”Inside that’ll help. It’s easier to show you. I’ve got the book I came for, it’s sixty volumes! The Baron went to get a collection he found, and, um, another ritual… one that goes with ‘Dawn’, whatever that is, something about drawing the sun’s magic. Oh, that tablet you bumped into? Priceless! It’s a dead form of Greek, but it’s not… usually they’re just lists. That’s something different.”

”And I need to cast a bunch of spells on you for the heat, and to make you stronger, faster, and… more perceptive.”

Sandy got the sense of a thousand excited questions being shoved aside until the disaster had ended; nevertheless, his small friend felt excited and proud. “Of course! Don't even ask, for today. Do I need to sit still or anything?”

”I have questions too. And about your day as well. But first… just stay where I can see you. Um, the Muses, er, some of them, are sustaining my spells for us. I don’t know if you’ll be able to tell. It seems normal to me, but…”

With that, Sandy reeled off a long set of charms: the Senses of the Wolf, the Critique of the Heat, and Adonis’ Boon.

The cat made a face. ”It's so loud! The smoke stinks!” But there was something under that scent, as they moved outside- a scent which wasn't moving. “Did someone…fall/get hurt/sleep?”

Sandy looked down the walkway. ”Teisias. Alive, but hurt… exhausted by his spells… Not sure. Oh, link senses with me. I want to see how bad the damage is inside. I want to try to get Aristophanes’ comedies, and anything else we can carry.”

This time around, Nick started with scent. Strong smells grew stronger, more conceptual. But Sandy had said senses - plural. Moving to stand directly in front of Sandy, the telepath focused on sight - specifically overlaying his not exactly on Sandy’s but under, overlapping… “THERE!” Doubled objects suddenly clicked into sharp focus, Nick's sight a soft but clear overlay.

Sandy beamed at Nick: this is just what they needed. Nick’s vision received its own additions: in the foreground, the complex weaving strands of Sandy’s familiar magic -- familiar to Sandy, at least, whose eyes Nick was seeing through -- and in addition, four immense cables stretching to the ground and seeming to take root there. In the distance, objects grew sharper and better defined.

“Oh!” Nick stared, wide-eyed, at the soft overlay of Sandy's World.

The two of them walked up to the history building’s doors, which Sandy gently touched. ”It’s a bit warm.” He cautiously opened them, and a wave of heat poured out. The Critique rendered it bearable. Sandy looked through the gap he’d opened: the fire had spread, and the magically-transparent smoke now filled the building. ”We’ll take it slow.”, and he stepped just inside the door.

”Oh, no!” The far end of the room was engulfed in flames, and what was left the gallery there was burning fiercely. The reading room wasn’t so bad, but in the nearest corner, the fire had reached the tables bearing the pinakes, the Library’s master indices, and the gallery above them was smoldering. ”We’ll need to be quick! Let’s get into the comedy and tragedy building. We’ll have to use broken furniture to clear a path to the door.”

Despair, anger, frustration - of course they’d known the library's fate, but watching it burn, after seeing how amazing a place it had been…. Nick forced it down. ”Focus on what we can save, Nick. Got it, Sandy -” Experimentally, he bit down on a chair leg longer than he and lifted his head. The sensation was like lifting a straw: it seemed to weigh nothing!

Sandy had already cleared a path from the door through the nearby strip of flame, and he grabbed an overturned table to use as a plow, shovel, and battering ram. The two of them ran to the doors to the other building, and started to clear the toppled tables from it. Despite the Critique, both started to sweat immediately.

Sandy sighed heavily as they finished unblocking the doors. Nick could sense him carefully measuring the distance, and then he darted into the wrecked section of the pinakes to pull a bin out of reach of the flames, then another, and another, his vision repeatedly shifting to two fields of view and then one as Nick's faded, before reversing and coalescing again. ”We’ll get them on our way out.”

Sandy reached for the bronze door handle, then recoiled, instead using a bit of a smashed chair to open the door. Cooler air came through the partially-opened door, and Sandy quickly stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind Nick. ”No sense in letting the fire in.”

The comedy and tragedy building seemed in better shape: the air was much cooler, so much so that the Critique entirely cancelled it out, and the smoke -- barely visible to them anyway -- was thinner. Not only did the Library’s own fire extinguishing magic seem to be slowly gaining the upper hand, by the front doors, four or five people worked to extinguish the flames with bins of water, one conjuring, the others carrying and dousing.

Sandy took a second to use their shared vision to located where he needed to go: he could hardly have forgotten such a memorable aisle! The near end of the row was knocked over and burning, and Sandy ran for it, not waiting for Nick. He wasn’t going to lose the prize of the ages to mere fire!

Nick leapt forward after him, and got the shock of his life as he rocketed past the scholar! More agile, he twisted in midair and dragged his claws across part of a shelf to stop a foot above their target and clambered on in time to nudge it directly into Sandy's arms.

”Good idea!” Sandy set the bin down, frantically looking around. He and Nick pulled others down from shelves at random, making two teetering stacks. One he picked up, carefully shifting to keep it balanced. ”Do you think you can push that to the door?”

Nick headbutted the other; it swayed ominously. ”Easily. But maybe a glue spell or magic cords or something would help.”

”Cords? No magic, but give me a sec..” Nick could already see what Sandy was visualizing, as though he could see into the future, Sandy’s actions following his thoughts by mere seconds: he set down his load, dropped the tiny Veiled box into the top bin, no longer useful, and untied that pouch from his waist, using the cord to lash Nick’s stack into a group. ”Try now.” He picked up his stack again.

Carefully scooting the box out of the aisle, Nick zoomed towards the door, the boxes offering approximately the resistance of Styrofoam. Really, the main limiter was friction…
The two of them quickly reached the door to the history section, Sandy letting Nick use his stack to push open the hot door. They left their loads just inside the door long enough to take the table Sandy had grabbed before and use it to plow a path to the outside door. Forget putting their weight behind it: the two could have moved over a ton that way! They respectively then ran and bounded back to their prizes, Sandy adding the bins of the pinakes to his barely-balancing tower of knowledge. They reached the colonnade just outside the doors without incident, though they were both drenched in sweat.

They found the mathematician Primordial had run into trying ineffectually to lift Teisias. He gently set the senior Librarian down when he saw Nick and Sandy. He tried to make sense of the two of them, then went back to matters at hand. “The army has a clinic in their headquarters, but I can’t move Teisias myself. Oh, I saw your friend go into Sundries Building. The two of your are either mad or zealous.”

Sandy shouted for Isadoros, who arrived at a dead run seconds later with his two assistants. Hearing of the problem, Isadoros set the younger priest to help the Librarian, and they started to carry him to the clinic.

Primordial used his shoulder to push the door open as he carried the first of the bins out into the colonnade. Setting it down against the far side he went back to grab the second one, Sandy’s magic was keeping the worst of the heat and smoke out but he still took a moment to gulp fresh air. He had ensured nothing was too close to any flames but knew that it was likely the flames would spread rapidly soon.

Grabbing the second bin he dragged it outside and set it on top of the other. Only the tablets left. They would prove difficult but not impossible. He could have carried without the aid of magic, but as he entered the flaming room and began to stack them he was happy to have the Adonis spell in addition to his highly modified Luxan strength. It made moving them out much easier than it could have been otherwise and he made haste setting the stack of tablets down next to the bins.

He paused, taking a moment to look around and survey his surroundings for any dangers. Primordial touched the radio and sent a message over to his compatriots. “Sandy, It’s Primordial. How are things on your end? I think I may have overestimated just how much I needed to grab. If It’s not a danger perhaps we should met at my location. It would save me a trip.” The Baron heard nothing but grunting and scraping in reply.

“Old Ones smite it,” he cursed and looked around. One scholar had reached the pile of shattered columns and roofs, and was starting to climb over it. The other was huffing and puffing, carrying his bin off toward the right.

Primordial raised his voice and snapped at them with the practiced tongue of a Luxan Royal. “You two! Come over here I require your assistance with a task of utmost importance. Leave those bins and grab these two.” He said pointing to the ones he had brought out. “They contain vital works of insurmountable importance. I will reward you both handsomely for your help.”

The mathematician apparently didn’t hear Primordial, intent on picking his way over the rubble. The other stopped and turned. “Just let me put this down inside, and I’ll be right back!” He nodded in the direction of the workroom building, not far from where he was.

The Baron rolled his eyes and turned to scoop up the bins. He had stacked one on top of the other and while it was precarious his strength mixed with the magic made it tolerable. He likely could have managed with one or the other but it was nice to have both and he moved quickly over toward the rubble and began the task of crossing.

Carefully placing his feet he made his way over the pile of fallen masonry and then began to walk quickly towards the Amphitheatre. He knew they didn’t have a definitive meeting place but figured it would be a safe place to hide his trove for the time being. Fortune or perhaps fate, though more likely a muse, seemed to be smiling on him when he came across Teisias.

He considered again slitting his throat for magic but decided against it and was about to move on when he noticed the bin next to him containing the volumes on The Discussion of Magic. The Baron smiled and set his bin down, taking another hungry look at the man before heading back for the tablets.

Taking the same route he had before he did his best to carry the tablets. While stacking them, Primordial was disturbed by a growing sound far below normal human hearing. It started as a barely detectable clicking, but as he stacked the tablets, it increased to an almost palpable humming scraping. Taking a second to localize the sound, he realized that it was the unstable wall shifting again, shifting away from upright.

The Baron could sense he didn’t have much time and that some sort of collapse was likely to occur any moment. The longer he stayed around the more likely it would occur on him. He scooped up the tablets and began moving without delay, they were heavier but less precarious than the bins which made it a different kind of task.

Wasting no time he reached the collapsed rubble and moved across it retracting the same steps he had taken on his first trip. As Primordial crossed the broken stonework, he spotted his friends. A few yards further on, he heard Nick’s familiar voice in his head, followed by Sandy’s. Sandy simultaneously called out greetings to mask the hidden communication. “We got more than we came for, but I’m half deaf from the building collapse. I’d like to see if there’s anything else we can get before the buildings are consumed by fire.”

As if to punctuate his words, the subsound Primordial heard again rose into the audible, and vibrations crossed the ground. Sandy and Nick turned as one towards the unstable wall, and Isadoros and the priestess followed their gaze. The vibration became stronger, and Nick and Sandy fixated on a point halfway up the corner. Sandy sent a telepathic whisper. ”The wall is buckling about half way up! It’s moving!” Within seconds, the displacement became visible to the naked eye, and then the wall and and history building’s remaining far roof collapsed inward, taking upper parts of the outer walls with it, and sending up a huge cloud of dust and smoke and a gout of flame. The building rumbled of thunder, and the ground shook like an earthquake.

“Oh, no!” Sandy’s groan was joined by Isadoros’, and the priestess seemed on the verge of tears. Nick wasn't merely on the verge of tears - had he had that ability, he'd have cried. As it was, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

[OOC: collab with Fvaar and Prim]

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Fri Sep 29, 2017 8:07 pm

RotLB

Sandy thought a message to his companions. ”We should try to save what we can! I don’t think the Library is going to last much longer, and it would be a shame to let it all burn… all the knowledge of this age, lost!”

”Just grab anything which looks important? Maybe it would be better to grab more from the scientific - no, the theoretical sections - and history… Which is where we're headed. Catch you in a minute!” Realizing that Sandy was about to reply - ”Or not. I'll leap ahead in a bit.”

”We’ll have to see what’s… We’ll probably have to grab what we can. We may not have our choice. I think, um, the fire is going to be worse now. We may not be able to stay very long.”

“Oh. I'll start grabbing/digging. Direct me around when back in range? I'll try to avoid sight, but -” Sandy got the impression that this wouldn't be the highest priority. With that, the cat pushed off before his friend could ask him to wait. He leapt onto the dining room’s roof, and then up into the cleft left by the collapsed common wall - an entry point not blocked by the flames. From there, he could see down into the natural science and history building and the sundries building. Directly below him was a tall, broad pile of rubble, what was left of the wall and parts of two roofs. He could leap across that to the far sides of either building, those being nearly untouched by fire.

Sandy watched Nick’s backside disappear into the distance, amazed at both the cat’s ability to leap and his willingness to help him, then turned the people still near him. They’d also been watching Nick, but turned to Sandy as he spoke. “I’m going to see what else I can get out. I… I don’t want to let it all burn.”

There was a pause, then the young woman spoke with increasing determination. “I am a priestess of the Muses. I will save what I can of theirs.” Isadoros straightened: that was a call to duty as clear as any. “I’ll help as well.” The Librarian glanced between the two of them, then came to a decision, though his expression suggested more peer pressure than duty. “And I’ll do what I can.” The Baron was strangely silent. (Alas for him, the storyteller needed to finish up and the spirit that animated the Luxan wasn’t available.)

Sandy nodded, relieved: he and Nick wouldn’t have to do this themselves. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He may have to do some explaining. “I have some spells that will protect you from the heat and will make you stronger and faster. I… don’t have anything more for the smoke, though. We’ll… want a bucket: it may be very hot inside, and I conjure water to cool us.” The others accepted this plan, and Sandy found a bucket left from a bucket brigade in the dining room. Sandy also got Primordial’s part of the Balm of Gilead; burns seemed likely. He took Nick’s collar pin as well.

Sandy cast spells on the others, picked up the bucket, and cautiously opened the Library’s double doors. Heat poured out in waves, noticeable even through the Critique, and at the same moment, Nick saw the flames on the near sides of the buildings surge upward, now that there was cross-ventilation.

A crackle came over the radio. “Nick here. Rubble. Headed for natural sciences.” With a windy sound, he inhaled and - “Ok”. Another inhalation. “Far side, history building.”

A couple more feline-olympic leaps carried Nick to the far side gallery, where he had an easier time making out the building’s contents. The the rubble pile had done an impressive job smothering the fire beneath it; if the flame-creature was still alive, it was deeply buried. The side Nick was on -- Sandy could see him as a small shape, but Nick’s vision wasn’t good enough to see more than a darker space where the sorcerer looked through the gap in the double doors -- wasn’t burning. The gallery was intact, even, scrolls still neatly in their bins.

The main floor was a mess: on the side closer to Nick -- further from Sandy and the others -- the remaining shelves had been scattered by rubble, and some of them smoldered. The other side of the building was in flames: parts of the main floor were an inferno, and a few sections of the gallery were burning, where it hadn’t already collapsed. As man and cat watched, a couple of scrolls on the main floor burst into flames from the heat, and a small section of gallery gave way, dumping what was left of its contents into the flames below.

From his vantage point, Nick could see the labels on the ends of the aisles on the gallery, as well as those on the nearest bins. He’d have to spell the words out and get Sandy to translate their meaning, though Nick remembered that the words were almost certainly names. About to pull the nearest down, he heard his friend.

Sandy replied in Greek, not wanting to have to explain English to the priests and the Librarian. “We should get what’s most likely to burn first. We may not get another chance. Get small loads, not full bins.” Sandy drew stares nonetheless, but he went on, addressing them. “You stay by the door so the smoke doesn’t choke or blind you. I have… magic that helps me with it. I’ll pass you what I can get.”

“Got - it.” Nick jumped to the main floor. Sweating, the cat snatched a bin far closer than he could have dared without Adonis's Boon - not even a yard from the flames. Yanking it back some fifty feet, he pushed another to the spot… and another, scooting those brought that much further forward. The flames crawled closer, and he snatched newly endangered ones - pushing the entire forming train of bins one bin at a time closer to the dining room.

While Nick played with trains, Sandy followed the plowed path they’d made before, carrying the bucket. Since it led to one section of the pinakes, Sandy searched the overturned tables for anything left of them. He was rewarded by a toppled bin which still held a few scrolls. He lined up like a champion bowler and slid it back to the doors, where Isadoros grabbed it and put it outside.

Sandy then ran out towards the worst of the fire, head turning as he searched for anything salvageable. He found an empty bin, and eventually some scattered scrolls, which he stuffed into it. As he headed back to the clear path to the door, he caught up with Nick’s freight train, grabbing up the lead car. Sandy slid the bins one by one to the door.

”I’ve got your collar pin. If you give me a second, I’ll put it on.”

Nick bulldozed towards Sandy, pushing the train towards the door. Nuzzling the man's ankle - we're okay/succeeding! Yes please! he held still.

Sandy leaned over to attach the ornament. When that was done, he added, “I’m burning up. I can’t imagine you’re any cooler. Let me pour some ice water over us.”

Nick nodded eagerly - Yes thanks! This was one of very few times that he'd genuinely wanted to be wet!

Sandy conjured freezing water into the bucket, which he poured onto Nick, slowly making two passes from head to tail. He refilled the bucket and poured it over his own head. Despite the Critique, wisps of steam began to curl from both of them: the spell was doing its best, but was never meant for an oven.

Aargh! Brr...ooh. Wow.” Staring at the steam, he kicked the nearest bin to the door. It's hot enough to boil water? Maybe you should recast. If this stops, we're toast! Or, well, roast.

”The Muses are sustaining all of my spells for me. We… there’s too much to summarize, but I did speak to them.”

Nick sat. ”In that case…I DON'T KNOW IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, MUSES. I'M SO, SO SORRY THAT SUCH A WONDERFUL PLACE HAS FALLEN. IT WAS INCREDIBLE...AND WE'LL REMEMBER IT ALWAYS. THANK YOU.”

A fallen scroll caught his eye - he leapt to fetch it, mouth open.

Nick landed on it, and as he started to carry it, both he and Sandy caught a sound from close to the doors. The priestess was slowly and carefully climbing the ladder to the gallery, both hands wrapped in cloth torn from one end of her chiton. She reached the top, and took a measured step onto the a section of gallery next to a column, where it was supported from below by a marble beam. Sandy watched her for a moment. ”Clever!”

Sandy turned back to the main floor. He looked beyond Nick, where his distance vision was better Aha! A few scrolls in a pile! He started to run for them.

Nick glanced upwards nervously. Hopefully, she'd be alright. Going to that effort - he grasped the side of an empty toppled bin in his teeth and leapt to Sandy and the scrolls, ruminating. “Ask what she's rescuing! Could be important!”

Sandy dumped the scrolls in the bin Nick brought, then stood to shout to the priestess. He watched as she called down the stairs to Isadoros, then made an excellent throw to him, and he passed the bin outside. They’d make a good basketball team.

As Sandy started to shout to her, she reached for another bin, and there was a sharp bang beneath her. The marble support broke, followed by the section of gallery she was on. The rest of the gallery by the doors went down almost immediately. Fragments of wood shot across the building.

Sandy screamed and grabbed his upper right arm. When he pulled his hand away, he revealed a deep gash, bone briefly visible at the bottom, before blood poured from the wound. “Shit!”

He pulled clumsily at the ties of his pouch, before awkwardly digging out a jar of the Balm with his left hand. Fortunately, his right fingers worked -- though that sent spears of pain shooting up his arm -- and he was able to open the jar. Switching it into a half-numb right-handed grip, he scooped out the contents into the wound and waited. ”One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand. I don’t know how well that’ll hold but it’ll have to do.”

Staring in horror, the cat leapt back reflexively as the column gave way, wondering if he should tackle the priestess - but what to tackle her onto? The section behind her would likely also fall. PRIME, HAND! But it was too late for that - he wasn't close. Ducking behind a bin, the cat flattened himself to the ground. [/i] we have any -[/i] A chill shot down his spine as Sandy screamed. “BALM! SANDY, SANDY! Random scroll in his mouth, he leapt to his friend’s side.

Sandy regretted what he was about to do, but he had little choice: the Balm would close the wound, but it might reopen without something to keep it closed. He took the scroll from nick and wrapped it around his bloody arm, working with a somewhat startled Nick to use its ribbon to tie it in place. ”Maybe the tech priests can get the blood out. But now I have patients.”

[OOC: collab with Fvaar]

by **Tiltjuice** » Fri Sep 29, 2017 8:11 pm

OPERATION: MASS SANITRATION
DIMENSION: NATIVE
LOCATION: OUTERMARK - BOILERPLATE
TEAMS: BLASTING ZONE AHEAD

Calani was not one to reply quickly; the rule of leisure held sway as far as she was concerned. Even her work had a touch of complacency to it; but then again, that was what she (and others like her) aimed for. It ended up costing her the opportunity, as somewhere glass shattered and the smell grew stronger.

"That doesn't sound very pleasant. Let's leave and come back when it's clear..."

The drive back to the Building took less time, somehow, or it could have been the perception of all three Residents. Far behind them, low-slung shadows exited the open garage door, and some of those in the facility closed it as soon as they saw. Nothing had crept in during that time, fortunately; only out.

Instead, they rolled the barrels up to the communal dining room, pausing to acknowledge those already gathered there.

by **Northwest Slobovia** » Fri Sep 29, 2017 8:12 pm

RotLB

Sandy ran awkwardly back to the clear path and then over to the doors. Isadoros was obviously dead, run through by a jagged board. The Librarian was buried, and when Sandy dug out a wrist, he found no pulse. A bit to his right, he heard a scraping sound, and turned to see the priestess trying to pull herself up before she fell back with a groan and a gasp.

Stepping onto the least-injured parts he could find, Nick focused on numbing her nerves. Of course, it would wear off with movement or in a few minutes - but presumably by then the Balm would be applied. Of course, it then occurred to him that he should have done the same for Sandy. “ I'm sorry I didn't, I panicked!”

That handled, he rushed for the remains of the gallery, looking for the many bins he'd seen. Not a few had become little but boards - snatching some mostly-intact ones, he stacked them upon his tea tray.

Sandy took a few big steps to the priestess. He paused, remembering the critical care checklist: airway, breathing, circulation. All good. She was atop the wreckage, and he looked her over. Blood was reddening her chiton in one place that he could see. He unwrapped enough it to get a look, modesty be damned. A small, deep cut, which he treated with Balm. Her left arm was broken, but she didn’t have any other major visible injuries; her pupils responded normally, but she was dazed.

”Nick! I need you! We’re going to have to move her! The heat will, uhhhh, become a major problem soon.”

Coming! Water her! Running over at a startling speed, he deactivated the tray, unceremoniously plopping down the stack.“Here! Need me to move her?

”We’ll have to work together on that. I want to brace her neck and back as best we can, and my outfit is already ruined. Help me tear strips from the bottom end to make ties to hold a crude back board on.”

Nick didn't respond, already attacking Sandy's chiton. With enhanced strength, the bottom was shredded in minutes, and he leapt back -to fetch a few broken boxes. The two of them worked together to brace her neck, back, and left arm as best they could, and then got her onto Sandy’s back -- him holding her right hand in his left -- to carry her into the comedy and tragedy building. Nick tapped her periodically, to re-numb her nerves.

Cool air poured from the next building’s door as they carefully opened it, no easy trick for a man with one good arm and a (fortunately, experienced) cat. Catching Sandy's request for the bucket, Nick recalled that the Ever-Full Cup did require, well, a cup. Nick had to retrace his steps to get the bucket, and not only did Sandy carefully wet down the priestess’ arms to cool her, he poured water over himself and Nick.

The comedy and tragedy building was at its normal, magically-climate controlled temperature, so it was hard to believe an inferno raged on the side of one wall. The fires seemed gone; no smoke hung in the air. The priestess stirred a little on the floor. ”I think she’ll be safe here. I’m not sure I want to move her through two more buildings. If she were conscious, I’d feel better, but I’m not sure we have any choice about that.”

“Safe - for now. But aren't there - some of Aristophanes's comedies here get/are lost. Does that mean it reaches this room? I'm going to try to wake her.”

It is, of course, rather difficult to ignore a voice in one's head. Nick grabbed all the Greek words he actually knew, put a paw on the priestess’ cheek, and focused. <ATHENS! ALPHA BETA GAMMA MELPOMENE POSEIDON AMPHORAE ORPHEUS OEDIPUS!!!>

The priestess opened her eyes again, but didn’t focus on anything for several long seconds. Sandy began to worry about internal injuries and kinds of brain damage. Her gaze eventually found Sandy’s face (Nick had gotten out of sight) and she blinked a few times before her eyes focused on it. Sandy smiled and nodded: alert was good, let’s see if she could manage oriented.

A minute passed, and then she mumbled, “What happened?”

That would do under the circumstances. “The gallery collapsed. You fell. I carried you into the comedy building.”

The priestess nodded weakly. Time to start the important questions: “What’s your name?”

“Iris.” Aha! Now I know that! “And what’s mine?”

“You’re… Eh…Er…. Erythros, who… told Thalia a joke, and brought a prophecy of the fire.”

Sandy nodded with greater confidence. “Just rest here until you feel stronger.” He conjured ice water into the bucket and put it next to her. “There’s water here for you.” He worried again about possible internal injuries if she drank, but if Teisias or any of the army healers lived, they could deal with it, and if not… she was probably dead anyway.

Nick, meanwhile, had headed for where they’d found Aristophanes’ plays - they’d been just in time, it seemed. The whole row and a long stretch down to the other end of the building was variously damaged - some by fire, some by water, not a few by both!

Nick pushed a few bins of slightly damaged scrolls with him -- Sandy felt they could be scanned at home, and he didn’t want to take too much that belonged in this era -- and they walked to the lyric poetry building. There they found the remains of a battle: Romans and Alexandrians both lying dead on the floor, along with overturned, bare shelves near the front doors. At least some Romans had managed a bit of looting before being driven off. Sandy pressed an ear to the doors, but heard nothing, so he opened them a crack: an empty former battlefield filled the avenue. Caesar’s men had cut their way out during the fire.

Sandy quickly checked the the building, adding a couple of damaged scrolls to Nick’s load, including one taken from the hand of a dead legionnaire. He found another bin, and added a different sort of prize: some weapons and a cloth helmet for study later.

They then left for the dining room, Sandy with one bin under his good arm. Primordial hadn’t been idle: all of the other bins and the Linear B tablets were neatly stacked on a table. Sandy called for a gate, and the Raiders returned to Gallimaufry with far more than one lost book.

Finis

[OOC: collab with Fvaar]

by **Cerillium** » Fri Oct 06, 2017 7:51 am

When suddenly, this happened.

Move along. Nothing to see here.

Demens Chosen IC [CLOSED]

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