Ruins of Khazan - Part 1: All Things Among Fallen Leaves

[Sharpandpointies]

Krys ponders Nemo's explanation regarding her people and their view of 'worlds'...and the makeup of their own little universe. Created by gods who...like 'fantastic' stories. That seems odd on quite a few levels, but Krys is hardly one to point fingers. If they're creating things, they're doing better than our own 'gods' were. Then again... They've also clearly set up a system with 'adventurers', and that doesn't sound particularly kind. Granted, Krys is only getting a taste of the entire setup from a single - Nemo's - viewpoint, and has never even seen the place themselves. Or maybe I did, when I was outside All Things? And don't remember? Too much information, that, and too complicated for a brain existing in this reality to grasp. With Svātantrya gone, Krys is relegated to whatever her body's brain and the mind it creates can handle.

And while that mind seems rather more capable than it once was, it's not nearly enough.

Jane, unsurprisingly, has latched onto the discussion of 'gods'. Given her circumstances, Krys can't blame her a whit. It must be curious for her to hear of people having good relationships, or something approximating good, with their chosen deities, when Jane has nothing more than a life of slavery to hers in her future. Not, Krys muses, if I can help it. Krys is no god, and neither do they hold Svātantrya to make them an equal (or better), but as noted before, sometimes it's not about power. Rather, sometimes it's about finding the proper lever with which to apply whatever smidge of power one has. Give me a lever long enough, etc...thanks, Archimedes.

The question brings only a shake of the head. Khazan? Nothing Krys can recall, off-hand.

They turn to look at Trevor - the boy must be overwhelmed. Krys moves to crouch beside him, sitting on their haunches. "I suppose this is a lot. If it's any consolation, it's a lot for us as well, and we're just fumbling our way through it." A shrug follows. "We'll try to get things sorted for you, Trevor. There must be something we can do."

More discussion of gods, and Krys feels a pang of sympathy for Nemo. To have been with another being so long, and suddenly find that place within oneself to be empty? Krys understands it very, very well, and not from Durga. Then they grimace as a distant cry rolls over the desolate, rocky shore, and movement stirs in the corner of their eye when Nemo inquires of their worlds. Rae clearly notes it as well. Krys sighs. "I think that kind of talk is going to have to wait until after we find some kind of food...or shelter, at least. For myself, anyway; this body requires actually nutrition." A jerk of the head indicates the same distant traveller Rae has. "The longer we stay here, the more likely someone will show up like that one -" and now Krys twitches a finger toward the closer, armored form "- only hostile. But we already have someone here; might as well see what we're dealing with."

Turning toward the marching figure, they study it for a moment. Not so large - perhaps Krys' height, if more solidly built...though that's a little difficult to determine under the trailing coat or cloak they wear, patchy to the eye even at this distance. Hair like burnished copper, and...there's something odd about the face. Krys can't help her wry smile. Something odd...compared to what? Humans? All Things might be small from outside, but it's a pretty infinite place. With a nod, they turn from the group to take a few strides toward the latest traveller, and wave their hand.

"Hey!" Now it's Krys' shout rolling over the broken rocks, the broken bodies. "Are you all right? Do you require aid?"

[Postmania]

"Curious," said Jane, processing Nemo's discussion on deities.

"Your gods seem relatively less malevolent than the ones from my experience. Although truthfully, I have only a limited understanding of the divine makeup of my sector. My memory banks on a search can find numerous mentions that the expanse of space and time that I was adjacent to and resided in was so expansive that there were many gods, subdivided even amongst the same category. I was created to be the avatar of Techno-death, but I have heard mentions of other, older forms of Death that presumably hold sway over other aspects of this experience. Silent Death, the Death of Ending, Destined Death, and so on."

Jane's eyes drift upwards to the sky for a moment, seemingly unconsciously.

"I hope the ones touched by these other Death Gods have as pleasant an experience as you have," she said thoughtfully, before speaking more quietly. "Or at least, a better one than I."

She turned her eyes back down to the trio.

"So your deity carries some benevolence to you, but is now likely no longer able to provide aid."

Jane turned her head to the side, so the Gate was just visible in her peripheral vision.

"Meanwhile, mine seeks me for less helpful reasons, and has never been closer. I never knew his location before, but I now know he is somewhere in that city. These are strange circumstances."

A bit of irritation enters her tone at the word "strange" but is quickly suppressed with the word "circumstances."

Jane paused as the rest of the conversation continued.

"Militaristic? Yes," Jane surmised. "That is not inaccurate a descriptor. I wouldn't mind recounting some of these hunts, or hearing more from either of you on that matter."

Jane turns her head to the new figure.

The figure's face was pale, was her first thought.

Like a corpse.

[Siriel]

Ván passes through the doors and mounts the stairway leading to the viewing platform. She is greeted with the same view that greeted Ella some minutes earlier. The great tree dominating the skyline, the warped and turbulent space over the eastern side (from her point of view) sending the district drifting through the air, the darkening and burning red cloud the hung over another part of the city illuminated with red light. The city of Khazan appears chaotic, increasingly so.

However, her attention is drawn to the top of the tree. That pull, that impetus within her that called to her to enter this place, she can tell that it lies at the apex of the megaflora. As she looks up at the top of the tree, she feels like she can see almost a glint or glare in her eyes, like there is some kind of tiny pinprick of light shining through the innumerable branches that is of unimaginable brightness.

She can feel that power of it, even at this range, she can feel the raw power lying up in those branches and it speaks to her that the glory she seeks may be found there.

The main concourse lies open before her, quiet and largely deserted except for a scattering of more corpses and the ubiquitous drifts of fallen leaves.
à

She feels the call echo in her soul, beating with the tune of her heart. Desire pulls at her, but she also feels herself held back. Not by anything as rational as a conscious thought, but rather simply by instinct. No matter how desirable it may be, she understands the meaning of "bait" on an instinctive level. And this is only reinforced when she can see, in her more rational state, that there are corpses laid about. Glory? Perhaps, it isn't impossible. There can be glory to be found even in a place with no people. But the presence of the corpses indicate danger as well, and she has no intention of falling again because she ran straight toward the prize like some childish predator that only just became able to walk on its own. Carefully, carefully, she starts to walk around. Toward the tree but not directly, instead moving in a circle moving toward her left, keeping an eye out for obvious spots where a hunter could be hiding themselves to pick up any rivals that lack the proper caution. Because there will be rivals, she's all but certain of it - the presence of the others may have been accidental if they were honest, but the presence of a call mandated that there would also be people who would nswer that call. People like her, for starters. The aimless ones who felt it after landing in this place.

[grampagen]

"I see," said Nemo. "You mention handlers and targets. I'm guessing your work may be of a more... militaristic nature? I could have guessed there were other wholly separate Multiverses in the Worlds Beyond, but it is fascinating to have it confirmed. If we've time later, I would like to hear more about your world, and the ones you've traveled to, if you don't mind telling." She turned to the others. "All of your Worlds, if you are willing to share."

"Heads up," said Rae, slipping to the side a bit. "New arrival." Nemo turned in that direction, and she could see a figure approaching in the distance.

"Militaristic? Yes," Jane surmised. "That is not inaccurate a descriptor. I wouldn't mind recounting some of these hunts, or hearing more from either of you on that matter."

Jane turns her head to the new figure.

The figure's face was pale, was her first thought.

Like a corpse.

"Hey!" Now it's Krys' shout rolling over the broken rocks, the broken bodies. "Are you all right? Do you require aid?"

Kinu stopped her silent march forward, footing set as she trampled over the bones of another one of the fallen on her ascent towards the Gate.

Hearing another voice in this bleak void was enough to pull her out of the fog. Casting a look behind her for a moment, a thin sheen of blood passed by her blackened lips as she looked over the group behind her.

There was no immediate response; rather, she crouched over something on the ground, the furs and scales of the cloak upon her back seeming to furrow like the warning display of some chimera.

When she stood up again, she held one of the dead bodies that littered the pathway. Trappings of a warrior, perhaps still smouldering with ash and ember. Where she gripped this lost denizen by the nape of its vestments, to her mind there couldn't possibly be any further desecration to this one than lying forgotten in a heap.

Turning to view the others, amber eyes stared at the group. Back to the corpse as a piece of it slid into dust, then back to the group.

"I'm not the one that needs help. I don't belong here, and I intend to find the way out."

Yet despite the forwardness of this answer Kinu's fingers twisted, her pale face glowering, fixated on the charred skull she hoist before her. Just one upon the host of others that lay dead, whose bones she tread upon to make her way forward.

I'm not like them. They ended up like this, which means...

"...who did this?"

[Nik Hasta]

"Although I am unclear about the combat capacities of a...child? My databanks are unclear whether a human aged 14 still classifies as a child. In some cultures, 13 is the beginning of becoming an adult, and in others, notably older ones are still growing. Either way," she concluded, looking dubiously at Trevor's knife. "I must express positive aspirations that you can use that."

Trevor, still somewhat unsure of Jane and her robotic manner. His hand flits to the knife at her mentioning it. It's not a defensive action per say, more that he is still unused to carrying it and he's concerned that it might vanish if he doesn't check it periodically. At her questioning his combat capacities, he responds;

"I learnt how to fight a bit when I were small and knives is... it's a part of that. I mean, you gut a pig or a rabbit or a deer and you learn things about carvin' flesh. I don't - I don't know if I am a good fighter and I dunno whether this knife is much of anything. All I knows is that a wizard gave me this to help survive this place and so it must be something... and if I gotta fight to make Tildy be okay then I will..."

He trails off as Nemo approaches, his widening eyes drawn to the rabbit-ears atop her here.

They turn to look at Trevor - the boy must be overwhelmed. Krys moves to crouch beside him, sitting on their haunches. "I suppose this is a lot. If it's any consolation, it's a lot for us as well, and we're just fumbling our way through it." A shrug follows. "We'll try to get things sorted for you, Trevor. There must be something we can do."

Trevor has been looking warily at Rae, clearly a little unsettled by something so pointedly inhuman in presentation coming across as replete in character and human affectations. Krys' words jerk him back to focus.

"Fumblin' was very much the way of it back home," he says, "Me and the boys and old Grant - we didn't plan nuthin' like what happened. You know how it goes thought, right? You can't not do something when - when something really bad is about to happen, right? I mean, I knows it's a plenty strange place we've found ourselves in and... a lot of others din't even make it that far,"

He gestures at the bodies. As if to punctuate, another figure appears out of thin air with two dozen arrows in its front and it drops to the floor with a clattering thump.

"I don't know if I believe in destiny or fate or whatever but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you..." Krys detects a slightly moment of confusion as Trevor strikes out for a suitable honorific that comports with their somewhat mutable gender presentation, he settles on something of status, "...Ser Krys, I'd have bled out on the floor. I get that this is no game. The trials of the Black Tower wasn't nothing compared to the journey here and I imagine that worse still probably lies in there,"

He shivers, hand straying to the hilt of the knife once more. His hand raises as he gestures at the city.

"You feel it, Ser?" he asks them, "You feel the call of whatever is there? Gives me the willies and I can't imagine that such a thing that calls so many strange and powerful folks to it can be trusted. But... Augusto holds the lives of a thousand thousand in his hands, not least of all Tildy. We got to go in there. Or... I do and - and your help would be greatly appreciated,"

[Nik Hasta]

Turning to view the others, amber eyes stared at the group. Back to the corpse as a piece of it slid into dust, then back to the group.

"I'm not the one that needs help. I don't belong here, and I intend to find the way out."

Yet despite the forwardness of this answer Kinu's fingers twisted, her pale face glowering, fixated on the charred skull she hoist before her. Just one upon the host of others that lay dead, whose bones she tread upon to make her way forward.

I'm not like them. They ended up like this, which means...

"...who did this?"

GM Note - Kinu
spoilers:

Kinu is not very injured from their transit to this place but they are quite physically exhausted (this is reflecting them only having 55 Mastered ENR at present.) As she approaches the group and the great doors, appearing to her as ornate wood set with ancient bronze panels, she feels, like a thunderbolt, the call of glory and victory pulling her into the city. It is not a verbal call but if it were to have words they would be something akin to "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!! FROM THE CURSED EARTH, FRESH FROM COMBAT IN THE WALLED CITY OF THE MAGI!!! WEIGHING 152 POUNDS, WELCOME THE CHALLENGER, THE GREAT ... KINNNUUUUUUUU!!!"[/I] On some deep and primal level, Kinu feels that her greatest stage is ahead of her and it lies within the walls.

end of spoilers

[Sharkerbob]

He trails off as Nemo approaches, his widening eyes drawn to the rabbit-ears atop her here.

Nemo offers him a smile, and says, “Nice to meet you both,” as Krys introduces the two of them.

Trevor has been looking warily at Rae, clearly a little unsettled by something so pointedly inhuman in presentation coming across as replete in character and human affectations.

Rae notices the side-eye, and extends a few threads from her sleeve to make the outline of a hand, giving the boy a friendly wave. She opts not to cut in as the boy and Krys continue their conversation.

"Curious," said Jane, processing Nemo's discussion on deities.

"Your gods seem relatively less malevolent than the ones from my experience. Although truthfully, I have only a limited understanding of the divine makeup of my sector. My memory banks on a search can find numerous mentions that the expanse of space and time that I was adjacent to and resided in was so expansive that there were many gods, subdivided even amongst the same category. I was created to be the avatar of Techno-death, but I have heard mentions of other, older forms of Death that presumably hold sway over other aspects of this experience. Silent Death, the Death of Ending, Destined Death, and so on."

Jane's eyes drift upwards to the sky for a moment, seemingly unconsciously.

"I hope the ones touched by these other Death Gods have as pleasant an experience as you have," she said thoughtfully, before speaking more quietly. "Or at least, a better one than I."

“Technodeath, huh?” said Rae. “Sounds rough, buddy.”

Nemo pursed her lips. “Technodeath” was certainly one of the more foreboding sounding things to be an avatar of, but Jane, for now, didn’t seem particularly hostile. Still, it was something to keep in mind. Detached from the safety net of the Scribed Land’s capricious creators, Nemo and Rae once again felt the stark reality that they were in truly dangerous waters.

“Sounds like your circumstances are a lot more brutal than ours,” she said. “You have our sympathies.”

“Yeah,” said Rae. “A few of our gods are definitely on the sadist end of the spectrum, but we don’t tend to stick around their Worlds very long.”

"So your deity carries some benevolence to you, but is now likely no longer able to provide aid."

Nemo nodded. “I felt something… disconnect… as I got closer to the gate. I haven’t tried praying to her yet, but even if I can still contact her for help, it’s not something I want to do unless there are no other options.” She pondered a moment. “As for your particular case, perhaps this place has likewise pulled you beyond your own gods influence?”

Jane turned her head to the side, so the Gate was just visible in her peripheral vision.

"Meanwhile, mine seeks me for less helpful reasons, and has never been closer. I never knew his location before, but I now know he is somewhere in that city. These are strange circumstances."

Nemo frowned a bit, but nodded again. “I see. Strange indeed. I hope you can avoid him, if that is your want.”

"Militaristic? Yes," Jane surmised. "That is not inaccurate a descriptor. I wouldn't mind recounting some of these hunts, or hearing more from either of you on that matter."

“When we’ve the time, I’d love to,” said Nemo.

“You know, partner, I’m starting to think we might have taken the wrong exit,” said Rae. “Setting aside all the dead guys—”

Trevor gestures at the bodies. As if to punctuate, another figure appears out of thin air with two dozen arrows in its front and it drops to the floor with a clattering thump.

“—setting aside all the dead guys, we’ve been here five minutes, and we find out we’re probably likely to run across a Technodeath God.” At a pitch so quiet only Nemo could hear, Rae whispered through a string near her ear. “Not to mention how undergunned we are right now.”

Jane turns her head to the new figure.

"I think that kind of talk is going to have to wait until after we find some kind of food...or shelter, at least. For myself, anyway; this body requires actually nutrition." A jerk of the head indicates the same distant traveller Rae has. "The longer we stay here, the more likely someone will show up like that one -" and now Krys twitches a finger toward the closer, armored form "- only hostile. But we already have someone here; might as well see what we're dealing with."

Nemo glanced towards the approaching figure, while taking assessment of her Magic reserves. She had only just learned Cooking Alchemy a month ago, and was barely practiced at it. With the right base ingredients, she could have whipped some extremely simple meals, mainly just bread and some vegetable hashes. Unfortunately, the area lacked any obvious flora she could have improvised with and there didn’t seem to be any live animals around she could capture and cook; there didn’t even seem to be any scavenger beasts to feed on the corpses. She herself wasn’t ready to start pilfering from the dead just yet.

More to the point, that particular Magic seemed utterly gone. Most of her more recent abilities, those that she hadn’t had time to really build up yet, had been stripped out of her during the crashing fall through dimensions. The ones she still had were among her earlier learned and more often used, and she could only consider herself lucky to have held onto them.

Before she could suss out other solutions to their supply problem, the new arrival was close enough to call out to.

"Hey!" Now it's Krys' shout rolling over the broken rocks, the broken bodies. "Are you all right? Do you require aid?"

With Krys already addressing the newcomer, Nemo, and even Rae, opted to wait for the stranger’s response.

"I'm not the one that needs help. I don't belong here, and I intend to find the way out."

Yet despite the forwardness of this answer Kinu's fingers twisted, her pale face glowering, fixated on the charred skull she hoist before her. Just one upon the host of others that lay dead, whose bones she tread upon to make her way forward.

I'm not like them. They ended up like this, which means...

"...who did this?"

“Wasn’t us!” said Rae helpfully.

[Sharpandpointies]

While Jane and Nemo discuss avatars of techno-death, Trevor describes his fighting capabilities, or lack thereof. Krys studies the knife with deep suspicion. Given how the boy's overlord has acted thus far, they wouldn't put it past that 'wizard' to have created some sort of trapped weapon, something that would use the boy himself as fuel or a disposable body. Rather the equivalent of a guided missile, in a way: get the boy close to what the wizard wants, and the knife 'takes over' somehow. One would doubt the boy would be the same afterward...if he survived.

Odds were he wouldn't.

Still, with nothing to go on just yet but those vague suspicions, Krys lets it pass, waiting as Trevor continues, their eyes on the approaching figure. They twitch when the new body arrives, turning for a moment to stare at it with a sad expression. Some come, just like they did, but do not arrive alive. "Krys is fine, Trevor," they quietly state. "Or I'll need to start calling you 'Ser Trevor'. I'm nobody of any significance, and I was glad to have helped you. I feel it's likely you'll do something similar for me, if you can." For a moment, they turn their gaze fully on the boy, focusing. "You're a good person; there are a lot of people who would see they could do something, and wouldn't. They wouldn't even fumble."

Their eyes narrow. "And you've lost people. And you're still going. That takes bravery, more bravery than I have." Krys' eyes unfocus again, rising to lock on the newcomer. "I just don't have anything to lose, anymore."

The figure reaches down, easily wrenching up one of the dead, holding it before themselves. Krys winces again, but shrugs; bodies are bodies, nothing more, having changed from life to death. There's no sense becoming upset about someone manhandling one, and thus far the...woman? Appears to be more about study than desecration. "I don't...feel the pull you describe, Trevor. But others here do, and I have 'recently' become a tad disconnected. So I fully believe you, about that. You, Jane, Nemo and Rae...even Ván, perhaps, all of you feel this. That has meaning, and..." Krys looks back at Trevor once again, then out into the endless sea of blackness and stars. "I will help. You, Jane...without question." The smile grows rueful for several heartbeats before relaxing. "No need to worry about that," Krys murmurs, looking back to the standing figure.

Just in time to catch its reply.

Rae shouts back first, as Krys rolls the stranger's words over in their head. Pursing their lips, they nod in satisfaction; there's something in the tone, in the set of wanderer's shoulders, that makes up their mind. "As said," Krys calls back, "not us!" We believe. "But there is strength in numbers; maybe that's a good reason for an association?"

[Nik Hasta]

Nemo offers him a smile, and says, “Nice to meet you both,” as Krys introduces the two of them.

Rae notices the side-eye, and extends a few threads from her sleeve to make the outline of a hand, giving the boy a friendly wave. She opts not to cut in as the boy and Krys continue their conversation.

Trevor pulls a face and suppresses it swiftly thereafter as he appears to remember his manners. He's clearly from a social strata in his homeworld, the kind that associates the idea of being perceived as being rude or presumptuous among strangers as inherently quite dangerous. Nemo gets the sense that Trevor might be the sort of person to group people he perceives as socially above him under the term "my betters," with all the baggage such a mindset brings with it.

He nervously waves back at the thread hand, clearly his level of comfort at the non-humanoid Rae is not shifting quickly.

"Mistress Nemo," he says, quietly and not looking directly at them, "Is that hat your familiar? Is it... I don't know... I don't wish to speak out of turn but there are tales in my homelands of demons what wizards and witches bind into their robes to fortify them 'gainst fluences and do their bidding. Augusto the Black is said to hold a world of darkness in the folds of his cape, populated with shadow beasts and that. Is your Rae... is she one of them?"

His hand is itching toward the ornate knife at his belt once more. It's unclear if he's even aware he's doing it.

[Nik Hasta]

While Jane and Nemo discuss avatars of techno-death, Trevor describes his fighting capabilities, or lack thereof. Krys studies the knife with deep suspicion. Given how the boy's overlord has acted thus far, they wouldn't put it past that 'wizard' to have created some sort of trapped weapon, something that would use the boy himself as fuel or a disposable body. Rather the equivalent of a guided missile, in a way: get the boy close to what the wizard wants, and the knife 'takes over' somehow. One would doubt the boy would be the same afterward...if he survived.

Odds were he wouldn't.

Still, with nothing to go on just yet but those vague suspicions, Krys lets it pass, waiting as Trevor continues, their eyes on the approaching figure. They twitch when the new body arrives, turning for a moment to stare at it with a sad expression. Some come, just like they did, but do not arrive alive. "Krys is fine, Trevor," they quietly state. "Or I'll need to start calling you 'Ser Trevor'. I'm nobody of any significance, and I was glad to have helped you. I feel it's likely you'll do something similar for me, if you can." For a moment, they turn their gaze fully on the boy, focusing. "You're a good person; there are a lot of people who would see they could do something, and wouldn't. They wouldn't even fumble."

Their eyes narrow. "And you've lost people. And you're still going. That takes bravery, more bravery than I have." Krys' eyes unfocus again, rising to lock on the newcomer. "I just don't have anything to lose, anymore."

The figure reaches down, easily wrenching up one of the dead, holding it before themselves. Krys winces again, but shrugs; bodies are bodies, nothing more, having changed from life to death. There's no sense becoming upset about someone manhandling one, and thus far the...woman? Appears to be more about study than desecration. "I don't...feel the pull you describe, Trevor. But others here do, and I have 'recently' become a tad disconnected. So I fully believe you, about that. You, Jane, Nemo and Rae...even Ván, perhaps, all of you feel this. That has meaning, and..." Krys looks back at Trevor once again, then out into the endless sea of blackness and stars. "I will help. You, Jane...without question." The smile grows rueful for several heartbeats before relaxing. "No need to worry about that," Krys murmurs, looking back to the standing figure.

Trevor looks a little uncomfortable at being treated by an equal. Krys can almost feel the protestation rising in his throat but, again, a person above him in the strata has told him what the situation is and, as much as he may mislike it, he has to accept it. Krys also notes that he looks very surprised at their not feeling the pull of the city, they surmise that the sensation must be very strong in him. Like someone standing in the ocean and being unable to feel the ebb and flow of the tides.

There's a latitude of feeling in that difference, that otherness. But standing apart is hardly new ground for them, having all but taken it to its apex previously.

"You do me honour ... Krys," he says, clearly uncomfortable with the lack of honorifics being asked of him, "I'll see to it that we... well I don't... well, if we've got at least one wizard of sorts here, mebbe we can bend the thing that pulls us - those of us that feel it - we can get the greatest power in all the lands and fix all our problems. We gotta do it, we gotta try. Can't just... stand around here amongst the dead,"

[Postmania]

Jane began to ask about the origin of Trevor's training but her train of thought was cut off as Nemo approached.

“Technodeath, huh?” said Rae. “Sounds rough, buddy.”

Nemo pursed her lips. “Technodeath” was certainly one of the more foreboding sounding things to be an avatar of, but Jane, for now, didn’t seem particularly hostile. Still, it was something to keep in mind. Detached from the safety net of the Scribed Land’s capricious creators, Nemo and Rae once again felt the stark reality that they were in truly dangerous waters.

“Sounds like your circumstances are a lot more brutal than ours,” she said. “You have our sympathies.”

“Yeah,” said Rae. “A few of our gods are definitely on the sadist end of the spectrum, but we don’t tend to stick around their Worlds very long.”

Nemo nodded. “I felt something… disconnect… as I got closer to the gate. I haven’t tried praying to her yet, but even if I can still contact her for help, it’s not something I want to do unless there are no other options.” She pondered a moment. “As for your particular case, perhaps this place has likewise pulled you beyond your own gods influence?”

Nemo frowned a bit, but nodded again. “I see. Strange indeed. I hope you can avoid him, if that is your want.”

"I...appreciate your concern," Jane answered, still unused to giving thanks in this fashion. "In my multiverse, few areas of space and time remain uncontested amongst the gods. No world is truly beyond their reach if they wish to spend the effort to enter."

Jane's eyes, still marked in a skull shape from her Nekromantia, seemed to glint brighter for a moment.

"One tends to find themself under a god one way or another, hopefully one that guards their borders jealously. It keeps your section of reality...somewhat consistent."

Only a tinge of awareness warns her before a recorded video plays from her memory banks.

A section of ceiling falls upon her and Jane's eyes glow once again, rousing her from a sleep mode into maximum readiness as her systems register the impact.

The new hole in the ceiling introduced for a new pressure difference as the vacuum of space yawned before her, sucking her outwards. Jane extends her arms, arresting her forward momentum into the void.

With great effort, she is able to wrench herself away from the hole and into an adjacent room, which is already beginning to feel the sucking effect. Frantically, she runs from quarter to quarter, seeing only the bodies before her. She has no memory of what happened. She has no memory but she has knowledge. She knows that the curled, blackening bodies and green strands of light seeping through them can only mean that they have died by her hand. She cannot postulate any reason behind this rampage however. Perhaps a simulation? She should access the station records. It is only there that she can potentially make sense of all of this.

Jane stopped speaking and seemed to blank out for a long moment, before continuing in halting fashion.

"And yes," Jane added. "I wish not to be sought by Nekro."

As her conversation with Nemo began to wrap up, Jane caught the end of Krys' aside with Trevor.

She cocked her head for a moment at their last words and thought about her exit from the Facility as Trevor responded, before turning her head to face Krys and Trevor once more.

Surrounded by the ruins, she had thought there was nothing left for her. But in those records, she had found something still as Nekro made himself known to her.

Something in her system wanted to speak on this to Krys, although she was unsure as to why, or for what goal. She thought it might be apprehension, but it was also something more.

"I am aware I have inadequate knowledge of your circumstances, Krys," she began carefully after the two had clarified the dead with the pale-faced newcomer, "however that assessment about your losses may not be accurate."

She turned back as the newcomer cradled the skull in her hand.

"You still have your self."

[Sharkerbob]

Trevor pulls a face and suppresses it swiftly thereafter as he appears to remember his manners. He's clearly from a social strata in his homeworld, the kind that associates the idea of being perceived as being rude or presumptuous among strangers as inherently quite dangerous. Nemo gets the sense that Trevor might be the sort of person to group people he perceives as socially above him under the term "my betters," with all the baggage such a mindset brings with it.

He nervously waves back at the thread hand, clearly his level of comfort at the non-humanoid Rae is not shifting quickly.

"Mistress Nemo," he says, quietly and not looking directly at them, "Is that hat your familiar? Is it... I don't know... I don't wish to speak out of turn but there are tales in my homelands of demons what wizards and witches bind into their robes to fortify them 'gainst fluences and do their bidding. Augusto the Black is said to hold a world of darkness in the folds of his cape, populated with shadow beasts and that. Is your Rae... is she one of them?"

His hand is itching toward the ornate knife at his belt once more. It's unclear if he's even aware he's doing it.

Nemo noted the anxiety in his tone and body language. Rae did too, and noting his frequent moves towards his knife, possibly instinctive, or a compulsive habit, decided to let her partner speak first, since she clearly spooked the boy herself.

"You can just call me Nemo, young man," she said. "Rae is an Elsy, a Living Cloth Entity. They are natives to a World called Kwyllt, where life evolved from naturally forming textiles, and the power of String Magic that Kwyllt's creator infused into their World. The native intelligent life forms there were able to tap into that natural force of String Magic to manipulate the environment in various ways. Most Elsy's are natively woven, but Rae is what they call an Outerborn. Textiles brought to Kwyllt from the outside eventually are suffused with the natural Magic and some build up a life force of their own. Particularly clothing, or blankets, object associated with use by sapient beings, can actually come to life with personalities of their own in Kwyllt. This would take years normally, but Rae was the clothes I was wearing while I stayed there, and learned String Magic for myself. Because I was studying the Magic so intently, manipulating the power daily and even using my own dress for practice, Rae was born into it at an accelerated rate."

"I'm not just the hat!" Rae added. She fluffed her whole self for a moment, sending a little "wave" of cloth down Nemo's length. "I'm the whole dress! The boots and gloves, too!" Her hat made a cheeky little wriggle to imitate a wink. "And yes, even the underwear!"

Nemo's smile flattened into a mild scowl. "You didn't have to mention that part."

"Aw, you know he'd be wonderin'," said Rae.

Nemo rolled her eyes before focusing back on Trevor. "Anyway, your world's methods sound rather more nefarious! A land frought with demon-controlling wizards and witches? I couldn't help but overhear a bit of your conversation with Krys. It seems you, too, have been granted a heavy burden." She flicked her gaze back to Jane for a moment. Then she looked back to Krys, wondering if she, too, had been subjected to a harsh fate, before coming here and opting to take other's burdens on herself. She looked back to Trevor. "I'm not sure what path this journey has in store for us, but if the lot of you are interested in traveling together, I would not mind lending some aid."

[grampagen]

With Krys already addressing the newcomer, Nemo, and even Rae, opted to wait for the strangerÂ’s response.

“Wasn’t us!” said Rae helpfully.

Rae shouts back first, as Krys rolls the stranger's words over in their head. Pursing their lips, they nod in satisfaction; there's something in the tone, in the set of wanderer's shoulders, that makes up their mind. "As said," Krys calls back, "not us!" We believe. "But there is strength in numbers; maybe that's a good reason for an association?"

Kinu considered the small voice that fluttered about from the rabbit-woman. The carcass remained suspended in Kinu's hand, blackened pieces of its vestments crumbling to ash, and with it, another part of what made this one stand out from all the others that didn't make it.

"It better not have been."

There would be none that would know their story, and their memory along with their lives were snuffed out in this place. In this bleak place before the gate, it all but smothered her thoughts.

They're all gone. The city, the witches, the magi...and every one of our EN faction...

The thin one with the shock-white hair started talking again, their voice strangely clear. An association of, who, those who were lost? The familiarity of it was uncanny.

GM Note - Kinu
spoilers:

Kinu is not very injured from their transit to this place but they are quite physically exhausted (this is reflecting them only having 55 Mastered ENR at present.) As she approaches the group and the great doors, appearing to her as ornate wood set with ancient bronze panels, she feels, like a thunderbolt, the call of glory and victory pulling her into the city. It is not a verbal call but if it were to have words they would be something akin to "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!! FROM THE CURSED EARTH, FRESH FROM COMBAT IN THE WALLED CITY OF THE MAGI!!! WEIGHING 152 POUNDS, WELCOME THE CHALLENGER, THE GREAT ... KINNNUUUUUUUU!!!"[/I] On some deep and primal level, Kinu feels that her greatest stage is ahead of her and it lies within the walls.

end of spoilers

Suddenly, it hit her all at once, and the closer she drew to the gate, she felt her blood flow like liquid fire.

And a sense of longing that crept beside it in her thoughts.

...great crowds of the faithful, gathered for me, shouting my name...

The memory - if it had indeed happened at all - was far too near. The title that would have affirmed her to the magical schemers and puppetmasters that slipped from her grasp was just so.

"...I can't. I won't," she muttered aloud, as if speaking the words would somehow affirm them to her own reckoning. "Not again..."

The last time she'd met someone else's terms, she'd promised they'd witness greatness, and for that they were all sacrificed. Perhaps she would have met her end as well, but with that small triumph, even if the world burned, she'd have died well spitting in the eye of the Witches. There was none of that here, blown away like the leaves.

The dead warrior fell from her hand, its limbs and vestments scattering every which way.

"I'm done with it, playing the fool, fighting for something," Kinu replied, though her rambling, incoherent barking seemed less part of the former conversation. It was as if she was more talking at or past them as her tone rose. "What's the point if the powers that be won't let you win, huh?!"

OOC: Kinu uses Kishi Kaisei on herself

"I don't know no Killobot (Jane) Boss Bunny (Nemo) or Twiggy (Krys), never seen you anywhere between the Sea of Storms to the Mastodon Graveyard," she said, "But what I do know is whatever called us here, whoever took out lives away and made them nothing, they're calling us through that gate right over there. They're questioning if we got the guts to step up! Well they got another thing coming. I don't care how long it takes or how far I have to go...when I find them, I will break them."

[Nik Hasta]

She feels the call echo in her soul, beating with the tune of her heart. Desire pulls at her, but she also feels herself held back. Not by anything as rational as a conscious thought, but rather simply by instinct. No matter how desirable it may be, she understands the meaning of "bait" on an instinctive level. And this is only reinforced when she can see, in her more rational state, that there are corpses laid about. Glory? Perhaps, it isn't impossible. There can be glory to be found even in a place with no people. But the presence of the corpses indicate danger as well, and she has no intention of falling again because she ran straight toward the prize like some childish predator that only just became able to walk on its own. Carefully, carefully, she starts to walk around. Toward the tree but not directly, instead moving in a circle moving toward her left, keeping an eye out for obvious spots where a hunter could be hiding themselves to pick up any rivals that lack the proper caution. Because there will be rivals, she's all but certain of it - the presence of the others may have been accidental if they were honest, but the presence of a call mandated that there would also be people who would nswer that call. People like her, for starters. The aimless ones who felt it after landing in this place.

Ván is cautious, perhaps in a manner unbefitting one of such martial prowess but caution was rarely ill-advised in such strange a locale and circumstances. The instinct to check vantage points is understandable but she quickly realises that the city stretches endless around her with buildings of all sizes and descriptions blossoming out as soon as she turns her gaze to another part of the landscape. It is unsettling bordering on maddening.

How could one inspect a window for potential foes only to have it vanish and be replaced with dense stone the moment she looked away? Or worse, at one point she looked through a window in a doorway and saw an abandoned bakery. Trying the door, she walked in and arrived in a small inner-city apartment building of entirely different dimensions and contents.

The street, at least, remains somewhat consistent. Though her progress is slow, she realises that the way back to the gate is becoming increasingly obfuscated by the shifting and moving architecture.

Perhaps the trap is not of the making of those also seeking the prize that glitters atop the tree, perhaps it is the city itself?

Nemo rolled her eyes before focusing back on Trevor. "Anyway, your world's method sound rather more nefarious! A land frought with demon-controlling wizards and witches? I couldn't help but overhear a bit of your conversation with Krys. It seems you, too, have been granted a heavy burden." She flicked her gaze back to Jane for a moment. Then she looked back to Krys, wondering if she, too, had been subjected to a harsh fate, before coming here and opting to take other's burdens on herself. She looked back to Trevor. "I'm not sure what path this journey has in store for us, but if the lot of you are interested in traveling together, I would not mind lending some aid."

Trevor is about to respond, clearly processing the burst of information about the nature of Rae and Nemo's world and their relationship, but is distracted by an outburst from the newcomer.

However, even in the brief window before he is distracted by Kinu's declaration, Nemo can read his face well enough to tell that he still seems very uncomfortable with the idea of Rae. The mention of her being the underwear caused his eyes to widen in an expression of both embarrassment and, perhaps, even disgust at the closeness of their relationship.

The negative emotion passes swiftly as the young boy is swept up in Kinu's clear voice.

The dead warrior fell from her hand, its limbs and vestments scattering every which way.

"I'm done with it, playing the fool, fighting for something," Kinu replied, though her rambling, incoherent barking seemed less part of the former conversation. It was as if she was more talking at or past them as her tone rose. "What's the point if the powers that be won't let you win, huh?!"

OOC: Kinu uses Kishi Kaisei on herself

"I don't know no Killobot (Jane) Boss Bunny (Nemo) or Twiggy (Krys), never seen you anywhere between the Sea of Storms to the Mastodon Graveyard," she said, "But what I do know is whatever called us here, whoever took out lives away and made them nothing, they're calling us through that gate right over there. They're questioning if we got the guts to step up! Well they got another thing coming. I don't care how long it takes or how far I have to go...when I find them, I will break them."

"Yeah! That's the way!" Trevor is clearly struck by the declaration, caught up in the power of Kinu's oratory skill combined with his own small declaration of intent. Having someone speak so much more powerfully and eloquently along the same lines, clearly inspires him. He punches the air and lets out a small whoop in support of the colourful wrestler.

"That's what we gotta do," he says excitedly to Krys, "Just like me and the boys did, like you said. You gotta do something when you see it and you gotta take on these challenges. Together!"

GM Note - Kinu

Kinu is now at 100/110 Mastered ENR (~90%)

[Sharpandpointies]

It's a trifle saddening that Trevor clearly considers Krys above himself, but understandable; that's the society from which he hails, socially stratified with those above and below. And equally clearly - from both his story and his manner - this is enforced. Brutally. Krys has made him uncomfortable with her request, and enforced their own will upon him in a sense. How does one navigate this particular difficulty, they wonder? Least pain, they decide. If Trevor is greatly discomfited, Krys will need to tolerate. But as for taking the 'greatest power in the land' and using it to 'fix all our problems'...that's a little disturbing. Taking power and using it to excise and patch what one sees as issues and problems, that rarely ends well for anyone but the person who holds that power.

Inaction, of course, isn't any better, and there is that difficult navigation: edging one's way between the two poles of inaction and control.

But for now - until that choice arrives - Trevor must be assisted against his overlord, Jane must be protected from Nekro; this is enough of a focus for Krys. "You're right about standing among the dead," they admit. "Their experiences are done, but we need to move, to find food if nothing else. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry." Her body remains ravaged by the passage through the Myriad Worlds; her body, this broken shell into which Krys finds themselves violently cast. Broken, and breaking down further with every tick of entropy.

Jane, however, holds a disagreement with some of that viewpoint.

Krys drops their head in acknowledgement of the woman's words. "Well, you have me there, Jane." It's less of a nod, more of a resigned acceptance; then they breathe in, head rising. "I have this -" a gesture toward their inadequate form "- and I have you, and the promise I made to help you; willingly made, and gladly. And Trevor, equally. I should probably care for those things, right?" A hint of purpose drips into their numbed spirit; if Krys cannot find reasons for themselves, perhaps they can remember those surrounding them. Trevor, lost and desperate. Nemo and Rae, who seen to require no help, but are nevertheless far from their worlds. Jane, the target of a predatory god-being. Another deep breath - drawing in a hint of oil, metal, and, oddly, the floral scent of shampoo from the jacket - and Krys rubs a hand beneath their nose, leaving a crimson streak across the index finger. Then they straighten, the breeze catching escaped locks of their hair. "Thanks. I'm not going to give up."

Ashen Death, there's too much here with worth; I'll never give up.

Shards of memory provide a reply, the voice achingly familiar.

~ "You mean die?" ~

Yes.

You'll need to find me, I'm afraid; I won't come to you, not easily.

An agonizing realization, but a necessary one.

The wrenching decision is cut off first by a warning reply, then a full-on bellow from the suddenly-energized Seventh, a roared challenge to their past and the world itself...and whatever force is drawing those around Krys to its centre. Sea of Storms, Mastodon Graveyard...the words roll across the plain of the dead, inspiring Trevor to excitement of his own. Krys gives a lopsided smile, head cocked. "I can't really disagree," they state, with a glance first to Jane, then to Nemo and Rae. "And I'm up for Doing Something," they continue. "We need to move carefully; enemies await in the city," this with an indication of Jane and consideration toward Nekro, a being likely beyond any of them "- but we have fresh allies." A nod to Nemo and Rae, who have proposed assistance for Trevor despite their own circumstances. "And maybe one more." They cock an eyebrow at Jane, twitching their head toward the Seventh. "What do you think?"

Hopefully not an enemy, at the least.

Krys raises her voice again, this time in reply to the Seventh's words. "I answer to Krys," they call; it's politeness to give one's name first if one seeks something from another, after all. "We seem to hold similar goals." Perhaps not identical, but parallel...congruent...those may be enough. "Will you walk your path alone, or will you accept the company of others?"