Saus

As we play, occasionally we'll close a thread and open a new one to keep the size of threads (and relative complexity) down to a dull roar. Here's where we store the closed posts from the history of Errant Road.
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Graybeard
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Re: Saus

Post by Graybeard »

[OOC: Sorry this is going to be long, but there's something important that V-Sensei and I had been needing to introduce, and it's time, so...]

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," Sister Rose said. "It looks like you noticed the same thing I did. Someone is steering us away from Homontel, and I don't think they're on our side, so ... Oh, wait. Miguel, doesn't the Festival of Departure start tonight?"

"Oh, my, you're right," Miguel said with a look on his face speaking of mild alarm. "That pretty well settles it." Without waiting for more discussion, he started setting up camp.

"What's the Festival of Departure?" Sasha, Argus and Harker said in unison.

"Let's set up the camp, then we'll fill you in," Rose said.

----------

"Okay, here's the story," Rose began, as the group, having set up a campfire and raised a tent-like construct on the wagon, applied themselves to a goulash-like stew washed down with mediocre Veracian beer. "Understand that Miguel and I take a slightly different view of this thing than the majority around here, because we're Reformed. The Orthodox branch of the Veracian Church, and also the Millenarians -- Father Egbert's denomination, as you'll recall -- take the Festival of Departure very seriously. We in the Reformed Church, much less so; I won't bore you with the theology behind that, although it's actually pretty fundamental to why there is a difference between Orthodox and Reformed. Anyway:

"About every four or five years, functions in the Orthodox Church stand down for about three days. The timing varies according to some rule that I've never fully understood, something about the phases of the moon, Luminosita's Presence at the smitings in the main temple in Emerylon, and so on. The reason, and here we get into the theology part, is that Luminosita 'departs' from the temple for those days, going to parts unknown to quote-unquote 'rest' for a while. There are all sorts of debates about where He goes and why, and there's a whole highly heterodox sect called the Luminositan Scientists that's founded on a really wild interpretation of that departure -- but that's tangential to our interest in the Festival here and now." She paused to check Miguel's reaction to this narrative; he'd looked uncomfortable at the mention of the Luminositan Scientists, and was obviously glad to move away from that subject.

With Miguel subsiding, Rose continued, "What matters here is that during those three days, members of the Orthodox Church -- again, our own much less so -- behave as though Luminosita has really gone away. Priests no longer cast spells that tap into Luminosita's Essence. The smitings are suspended. The priests and nuns enter into a time of fasting and meditation, and we try to get the parishioners to do the same -- but it doesn't always work that way, as I'll get back to. It's supposed to be a highly spiritual, reflective, inwardly-focused time. And above all, don't die and don't kill during the Festival, because at least in the Orthodox view -- not sure about the Millenarians, and we Reformed don't see things this way -- if you die during the Festival, you are deprived of eternal entry into Luminosita's Presence. There are all manner of theological debates about just what does happen to you if you die during a Festival, with no really satisfying answers."

Miguel was nodding somberly and took over the narrative. "Thing is, though, that's the way things are supposed to function, not the way they actually do. Among the devout, the kind of withdrawal that Rose describes is practiced. However, the lay congregation usually isn't that devout, or that willing to do three days of fasting and so on. Instead, for most of them, Festival time goes in the opposite direction: it becomes a time of 'anything goes.' They figure that if Luminosita isn't watching, they can get away with pretty well whatever they want to. So it becomes a three-day-long drunken orgy, with lots of street brawls, and the don't die, don't kill business is observed, one might say, in the breach."

"Right," Rose confirmed. "In the larger cities, there's a special military unit, often with more than its share of members of the Reformed branch, that's given dispensation to maintain order and keep the revelry from getting out of hand. Out here, however, the balance between somber meditation and drunken brawls is almost entirely a matter of the charisma of the individual priests at the temples, and the temperament of the town. The majority, I'm sorry to say, definitely incline to be a bit ... rowdy."
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Drannin
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Re: Saus

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Argus groaned. "That explains a lot..." At the startled looks he got, Argus clarified. "I was exiled about five years ago, remember? I think I stumbled onto one of said celebrations without really understanding what was going on... But never mind that."

Argus absentmindedly started looking for a stick and just as absently received a think metal rod from Harker. Some habits came back easily. He started sketching out some alertness wards on the ground. "So, you're saying that it might be safer to stay away from a town tonight?"
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Re: Saus

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"I'd expect so," Brother Miguel nodded, getting concurrence from Sister Rose. "If the priest keeps the townsfolk in line during the festival, there shouldn't be any problem. But many do not. Remember, too, there's a little xenophobia in the small towns out this way. I wouldn't be worried about the festival in Saus or Emerylon or even Heamish. But here ..." He let his voice trail off.

Rose said, "The first night is the worst. The real rowdies tie one on big time, then spend most of the next day sleeping it off. The good news is that they usually get so drunk that they can't travel. That's why we're better off here, well outside town. It'll be less true as the festival goes on."

"I'd still like to set up some defenses," Miguel said. "Argus, your wards are a good start. Rose, can you help me with Luminosita's Chariot before we turn in? That'll keep us out of the eyes of any magic users who might be about." He broke off, seeing Argus stirring.

"There are mages out here?" Argus said.

"Well, there shouldn't be. But there shouldn't be dragons, either. It can't hurt to play it safe. Now if either of you Tsuirakuans can come up with some appropriate illusion for the wagon, to keep the casual passers-by if any from taking an interest in us, I think we'll be secure."
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Re: Saus

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"About that... I don't have... er... 'the gift', as you might say. I can't do magic." Sasha said, looking a little forlorn. "However, I'm a crack shot with a rifle, and I'm willing to take a guard duty."

After arrangements had been made for the night, the four-to-five of them (depending on whether or not you counted Harker) settled down to share in the un-glow of the magically cloaked fire. "Ok... about Lucas. While he was in magic school, he got blown up... or out... or something, and vanished. It was big news, had a lot of people questioning the safety of Sashu Mu. The authorities searched everywhere in Tsuiraku and surrounding areas, and put out feelers in Veracia and Farrel, but there was no trace of him."

"Months went by, then he suddenly showed back up in Emerylon, saying that he'd been teleported to the Northern Territories and that it'd taken him that long to walk back. This next part isn't common knowledge, because they tried to keep it hush-hush... but the Veracians took him to Saus, where they tried to warp gate him home... but he vanished in transit. Again. Crashed the entire gate network in the process. Remember the 'solar flare' activity about 3 years ago? That was just a cover story."

"From what he said, this time he landed even further than the Northern Territories, deep into troll country... he doesn't like to talk about what all happened, but from the look of him when he did eventually come back, he survived by native. Ran with the trolls, ate with the trolls, lived with the trolls. About six months after he vanished the second time, he turned back up in Tsuiraku with very little fanfare... moved to Kiyoka, opened up his 'on-foot travel agency', and just sort of kept wandering."

"As to the golems... well, the blue one came back with him. He said he found her broken in some sort of temple up north and was able to fix her. She always gave me an odd vibe, though... too realistic, a little too lifelike. I've even seen her operate independently of instruction and take initiative... things golems aren't supposed to do normally. I wanted to have a friend of mine, guy by the name of Gears, take a look at her, but Lucas wouldn't allow it. The others aren't nearly as special. He just picked up over the years... uses them as sherpas to carry his clients crap around."
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Drannin
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Re: Saus

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Argus nodded. "Interesting... I've heard of such constructs before, but never in any good condition. Bits and pieces, really. I find this level of mental sophistication to be quite fascinating." Argus pondered for a moment, wondering where exactly this Lucas Ravanel would have picked 'her' up. Still, this was some interesting information on the man himself. Sounds like he has some difficulty with warp gates... the result of a magical accident? I wonder...

Oddly, he felt sympathetic to the man. A Tsuirakuan in a sort of self-exile. Then again, he had lived with trolls. That was a big black mark in Argus' book.

A side glance caused him to notice Harker, once again holding a small wooden dowel, and looking speculatively at Sister Rose. Irritated, Argus snatched the rod out of his hand. There were boundaries...

"Do you know why the warp gates acted up like that?" Argus asked suddenly.
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Re: Saus

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"No idea about the gates, but you know, something just occurred to me," Sister Rose said, noticing that the glow from a town was now visible on the eastern horizon; Homontel, probably. At least they knew where they'd be going in the morning. "Miguel, this would have been before you came to the mission. There was one time when we were doing the Ritual of Luminosita's Tears, and we found out that half of the wine had been turned to grape juice, the other half to toilet cleaner. The abbot threw a mega-fit about it, and understandably so. The first thought was that one of the novices had pulled a prank, but we only had two of 'em at that time, one provided proof that he'd been nowhere near the wine cellar, and the other was the abbot's -- nephew." She shuddered at the memory of "Ulrich," mercifully recalled to Emerylon some time ago, and went on. "We never did figure out who did it. Worked for the best, actually; we dropped our wine supplier and started getting it from that Rising Moon outfit south of town, which produced vastly better wine. But now as I think about it, that travel outfit had just opened a few days before we had the problem. Wonder if there's a connection?"

"There might be," Miguel said. "Sister Margaret told me that some of the magical anti-intrusion features they'd seen in the travel agency were, as she put it, 'odd.' It sounds as if this Ravanel has weird effects on the magic he touches. Maybe this golem falls into that class too."

"Or maybe he's one of those Errants the elves are all in a dither about," Rose threw in, with enough of a smile to indicate that she wasn't really serious about the idea. Probably. In any event, the others chuckled (if a bit nervously) as she continued, "Anyway, he's not our problem. Let's turn in for the night. I'll take the first watch shift; Sasha, can you spell me in a couple of hours?" She noticed that the glow from what was presumed to be Homontel seemed brighter, and had taken on a bit of the color of a fire; yes, better here than there...

[OOC: And with that, I propose a fast-forward until morning, unless someone has something they'd like to see happen during the night. Comments?]
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Re: Saus

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(OOC: Gonna squeeze in this conversation)

It was late at night. Argus lay awake, looking at the stars. He rubbed his shoulder. Felt fine... probably no spread of fossilized tissue. At least he hoped not. Next to Argus, Harker lay sprawled out on the ground, snoozing. Argus thought he looked like roadkill. And yet, for all of his foibles, the beaver-morph was an effective assistant, and had always been a good friend. Albeit possessed of an annoyingness that only familiars could manage. And that brought up a point.

Argus thumped Harker on the head. "OW! Gorramm..."

"Hush. People are sleeping." Argus kept his voice quiet."

"What was that for?" Harker reciprocated.

"I want to ask you something. What are you doing here, Harker?"

The little beaver looked startled; a comical expression on his face. "Whuh...? I came t'find ya, boss!"

"Not that. HOW did you find me? Five years since I've seen you. The last I saw you was at the gate before the Bastards in Power sent me on a magical trip to nowhere-land. We said goodbye. Five years later, I wake up to see you tending to my arm. Right out of the blue. How?"

Harker was silent for a long moment. He looked at the sky. "After you... left, I stayed with Fayna a bit. Doin' well, last I heard... you should talk to her..." the look on Argus' face kiboshed that argument. "Well, anyway... I started lookin' for you after a few months. Opened up the mental link and just started wandering at random, hoping to catch a whiff if yer brain. Took me a while... hired m'self out to a few contractors here and there... paid my way... FINALLY sensed you in Veracia and started following you. And when I found you, you were passed out cold. And not from booze, go figure."

Argus snorted. Impertinent little creature... "Why did you come for me?"

Harker looked at Argus as if the old man had the brains of a gnat. An impressive feat, on his face. "You're my friend." And Harker rolled over and went to sleep.

The night grew very silent. Almost as silent as Argus' thoughts.

(OOC: Okay. Done)
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Re: Saus

Post by Graybeard »

[OOC: That was worth waiting for; thanks.]

Morning dawned cold, gloomy and windy. The storm that Colonel Bogiel (Bernie?) had mentioned was on the way, although it hadn't started raining yet. Brother Miguel was up earliest -- actually, he'd drawn the final watch of the night and simply stayed up -- followed by Sister Rose. The two said their morning prayers, Hygiene spells, and confessions while letting the others sleep in, then restoked the campfire and started breakfast.

And conversation. "I'm getting nervous about this," Miguel said. "We're heading into country that Egbert knows considerably better than we do. From here on, we're only going to find him if he wants to be found. And this kills-with-a-look business scares me. That doesn't sound like the Father Egbert that I know. In fact, it's too much like the bruja that I wanted to get away from."

"I know how you feel, and no, I didn't cast the spell," Rose said. "Being here during Departure is worrisome, too. Of course it doesn't affect our own spellcasting at all, but we can't count on help from any of the old Orthodox priests, and if anything, you understated the way some of these little towns go wild. Some of Kenny's relatives had the most frightful stories to tell."

Miguel winced at the scar that he'd just exposed. Rose didn't like to talk about Kenny at all, and that she would do so spontaneously meant that she was likely a lot more concerned about their situation than she was letting on. It might be wise, or at least compassionate, to change the subject. "Well, we're still committed to trying. Let's look at the map and see what comes next."

It didn't take long for them to figure out that something had misfired the previous evening. The map showed the town of Homontel, and a few miles north of it, a Y intersection, with Homontel obviously on the southeast leg of the Y. "As we suspected," Miguel said. "You're sure the sign was pointing to the right back there?"

"Positive."

"Me too. Someone must have tampered with it. There are three possibilities: Egbert, those three that are chasing him, or someone from Homontel itself. I don't like any of them."

"Nor I," Rose agreed. "It might, or might not, be useful to go back there and see what was done to it, if either of the Tsuirakuans have skills or gadgets that could shed light on the subject. I'm not really very optimistic."

"Well, we can inquire; looks like we have customers for breakfast," Miguel observed, as Argus and Sasha started to show signs of life in the wagon.

[OOC: I think we've reached a point where a map would be useful. I'll try to gen one up and put it on the HKV by this time tomorrow.]
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Re: Saus

Post by Graybeard »

OOC: OK, a detail map of central Veracia is now up on the HKV; link here. As usual, it isn't "canon" or set in concrete, but it should suffice to locate Heamish, Homontel, Ramanzel, etc., relative to the better-known places. More details will be filled in as we invent them....
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Re: Saus

Post by Drannin »

Argus slowly woke up. It had been a dreamless sleep last night, for which he was profoundly grateful. Harker was gently snoring in what looked like a painful position; the little familiar had never been a still sleeper. It looked like Rose and Miguel were already up. And were glancing in his direction. "Care for some breakfast?" called Brother Miguel.

"Definitely!" Argus called back. He started to get up... and stopped. "As soon as my leg joins the rest of my body in waking up!" Off to his side, Sasha mumbled something intelligible as she crawled towards wakefulness herself. It sounded vaguely like "Gyrmknafzz," which was not a word in any language in the known world. Likely not even trollese, if the damned creatures even had a language.

Screw it. Argus was hungry. He jumped to the ground on his protesting leg, and walked towards the others.
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