The Artifact of Absonial

[Drannin]

Argus nodded and walked over to Rose. <"This place... there's something about it... the feel of it is different from anything I've ever experienced."> It was really extraordinary, and yet it seemed so ordinary... gorgeous, but nothing beyond expectations.

So why did he did this strange sense from everything...?

[Graybeard]

"Look at this," Sister Rose said as Argus and Drusia drew near the odd, semi-magical tree. "I have a feeling that I've seen something like it before, but I'm not sure where."

Maduin was right, at least basically: it hadn't been there long, certainly not as long as the ruins that the Emerylon University party was excavating. Based on the debris that had accumulated around its trunk, Rose would have guessed five or ten years rather than the twenty or thirty that Maduin had estimated, but it really didn't matter. Any way you cut it, the thing was an anachronism.

At least, it appeared to be a harmless anachronism, as far as she could tell, although of course, one should never consider magic in an unexpected place to be entirely harmless. The beaten path (it would stretch the term to call it a trail) that led up the canyon passed right by it; clearly the researchers had walked past here many times without incident. It hadn't reacted adversely to her presence or Maduin's, either.

She remembered back to the weird ecosystem at Centoriel. Lillith had picked up on anomalies there that Rose, and for that matter Argus and Brother Miguel, had barely been able to sense. Maybe she could do something similar here, and it looked like she was on the way over to where the other four were standing, with Suriah in tow (and of course, Brad following her around like a puppy dog). "Lillith?" Rose called. "We can't make heads nor tails of this thing. Might your -- spirits tell you anything about it?"

[Sareth]

[OOC]I'm going to borrow Sister Rose for one line here.[/OOC]

Lillith walked over to the grove, letting the cooler air of the shade fill her lungs. She closed her eyes and listened to the canyon breeze rustle through the leaves. She gave a soft sigh, enjoying the peace of the moment.

Her fingers reached out and delicately brushed the trunk of a tree. She could feel the rough bark, could feel the odd markings carved into the trunks. It felt soothing even as it rasped against her skin. She leaned forward, resting a cheek on the trunk.

She breathed.

She reached out.

She felt.

Her eyes opened and she leaned back, giving the tree trunk a gentle pat before she turned to face the group. "They've been here almost 30 years."

"The trees?" Sister Rose asked.

"The peaceful dead."

[Graybeard]

[OOC: Warning, this is going to be kinda long... but important.]

"The peaceful dead."

Now I remember where I've seen one of these before, Sister Rose thought.

It would be a mistake to call the Stalwarts a "denomination" within the Veracian Church; "sect" came closer, although it still might not be totally correct. Orthodoxy certainly wasn't an issue with them -- quite the contrary, the Stalwarts were probably the single most zealous movement in the entire Church when it came to religious orthodoxy in the traditional sense. Their practice of that zeal, though ...

The heyday of the Stalwarts movement had been about a hundred years in the past, if Rose remembered her history correctly. Some priest whose name she couldn't recall had discovered a combination of magic, plus certain herbs that grew in the swamps of the far south, that could induce a death-like state in their recipients, a state so convincing that it took the revival of one "volunteer" who'd been placed into the state (not so voluntarily, Rose suspected) to convince the Patriarch that the state was not death. And that paved the way for Father Yogesh.

Yogesh had started out as a simple country priest, barely literate, and knowing little more of Luminositan doctrine than that He was powerful and scary, yet to be loved, worshiped, and -- incongruous as it might seem -- protected. Simple Yogesh may have been, but he did have charisma, and he also had a concept. His followers, mainly drawn from small towns such as the ones that Rose and her friends had been passing through, had sworn to defend Luminosita even unto death and beyond ... and so, when the drug/magic-induced death-like state known as the Peaceful Death became public knowledge, he knew exactly what to do with it.

It was only a matter of time, and not very much of it, before Father Yogesh had a cadre of ultra-zealous Luminosita worshipers who were willing to enter into the Peaceful Death state (with, of course, appropriate pomp and ceremony), and be interred in the most sacred grounds of the Veracian Church -- the temple at Emerylon itself, the swamps where Luminosita had arisen hundreds of years earlier, a few other sites -- there to watch over the holiest artifacts of Luminosita, and rise to defend them from the infidels, or at least rise when Judgment Day finally happened. Of course, things didn't exactly work that way. When the Tsuirakuans arrived to prosecute the last of the Mage/Priest Wars, the Stalwarts remained buried, and as far as anyone could tell, also quite dead -- if peacefully so. They certainly didn't arise to defend the sacred texts that the Tsuirakuans hauled away by the bushel; that was left to the Veracian military. Between this less than stellar performance and the death of Father Yogesh at the hands of a Tsuirakuan battlemage (there were still those in the Veracian Church who claimed that a demon had killed him, but Rose had read the classified battle report), the Stalwart movement had quickly ebbed out, leaving only memories and fields of semi-dead adherents in holy places. Most had been dug up and either re-animated or (in most cases) found to have moved on from the Peaceful Death to the real thing, but there was still a small plot of Stalwart burials on the grounds of the great temple in Emerylon; Rose had even paused to say a prayer there on a few occasions -- although she wasn't certain just what she was praying for. And the components of the sacred grove that sheltered them had looked exactly like this tree.

But what were they doing here? And why had they entered into the death-like state so long after the war, and the movement, had run their course?

"Can you tell anything more about the Peaceful Dead, Lillith?" she asked, buying time to think about this unexpected site.

[Sareth]

Lillith nodded, closing her eyes again. "They're watching. Guarding. They want to protect something, but I don't know what." She paused, cocking her head to the side. "They know we're here, but..." Her eyes opened. "They like you, Sister Rose. They say to thank you. I don't know why." She gave a smile. "But they're not so sure they like you, father. They say 'The Tsurakan's aren't to touch it.'" She cocked her head to the other side. "What does that mean?"

[Graybeard]

"I guess they just don't want a Tsuirakuan to touch the -- thing we're here to pick up," Sister Rose said. "If they're what I think they are, they have an old, valid reason to be suspicious of Tsuirakuans. Times have changed for the better since they were buried here, though." I think. And speaking of things that a highly fanatical, mainstream, Orthodox xenophobe might react to ... "Do you have a sense of how they feel about there being an elf around?"

[Sareth]

"An elf?" Lillith paused. "I'm not sure. They seem to think that... That... Uhn..."

The girl's gaze unfocused, and she swayed a moment. Her chin dropped to her chest a moment, and she seemed lost in thought, and then...

"The elves are a powerful and ancient race to be respected." Her voice was deep and self-convinced, with a rasping accent very different from her own. "Yes, very powerful. Though not as powerful as Our Lord Luminosita, for when he struck at their barrier it did fall before his glory. We respect the elves and their ancient wisdom, though we do not fear them, for who need fear when Luminosita smites all who oppose his will?" The girl looked up, and her eyes burned with a fanaticism that was far from their usual softness.

[Drusia]

"The elves are a powerful and ancient race to be respected." Her voice was deep and self-convinced, with a rasping accent very different from her own. "Yes, very powerful. Though not as powerful as Our Lord Luminosita, for when he struck at their barrier it did fall before his glory. We respect the elves and their ancient wisdom, though we do not fear them, for who need fear when Luminosita smites all who oppose his will?" The girl looked up, and her eyes burned with a fanaticism that was far from their usual softness.

Suriah backs slowly away from Lillith, lips parted in a mixture of fear and concern. I step in front of her, putting myself between her and Lillith. It doesn't sound like whatever is speaking through Lillith is antagonistic, at least not to elves (and half-elves? she didn't say), but it certainly isn't natural.

Rose seems to have some idea about what this all means. I think I'll let her handle it. She knows how to talk to these Luminosa types, even if they're dead. I probably shouldn't try, what with Luminosa being a magical construct rather than anything remotely divine. I've never really been sure why humans feel the need to worship an angry man as an excuse to be nice to one another. There's nothing mysterious about being nice - it's just something you do. Now, creating life, giving birth - that's a mystery; that's a miracle. A mother goddess makes perfect sense to me, which is why I worship Anilis.

So... not very politic, when speaking with undead fanatics.

Besides, I have other things to do.

"Don't," I say, placing a restraining hand on Brad's chest before he can surge forward. "This looks delicate. Let Rose handle it."

I really hope Rose can handle it. Because I haven't the faintest clue what to do.

-- Drusia

[Graybeard]

"This looks delicate. Let Rose handle it."

Thanks a lot, Sister Rose thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm, but then again, her own blood was running slightly cold at the moment.

At least Drusia had stopped Brad from doing whatever overwrought and undoubtedly counterproductive thing he'd been about to do. The poor man looked like he'd just caught his favorite uncle (which would have been Rose's father) molesting a small child. He stood rooted to the ground as though he'd become one of the trees in this suddenly malignant grove.

That thought told Rose what she had to do. "Uh, Lillith, we need to secure our retreat," she said, gently taking the girl's arm and steering her away from whatever underground force had tried to possess her -- altogether too successfully, from the look of it. With luck, distance would break the frightening bond.

And if not ... well, they'd cross that bridge when they got to it.

[Drannin]

Argus stared at his daughter, mouth slightly agape. That was something he'd never thought he'd see. Possession by the... peaceful dead...? Argus had never really paid attention to necromancy. He was starting to wonder if that was an oversight on his part.

Slightly nervous, he walked alongside Rose and Lillith. "Lillith...?" He asked gently, "Are you alright?"