[IC] TotMV:G2: Servant's Quarters (Travel Phase)

[LucidRain]

"Very interesting. Orc, huh? I wouldn't say I wasn't surprised, considering orcs' history back in my hometown. Things are different out here in the Realms Beyond, I hear. I guess I should be ready to be surprised." 

Melina then looks around for Wyvis, but finds him missing.

"I got briefed about the mission of this group, something about eldritch abominations called Trespassers. Can ya tell me what exactly are they?"

[Hal Henderics]

"If prior explanation is to be believed, they are monsters that consume reality and assume it's form."

 

Mar summarizes.

 

"What history do the Orcs of your world have?  I might share some of my own."

[LucidRain]

"Consume reality - they sound like a bad buncha folk! I wouldn't mind helpin', s'long as the drinks 'round here is better than the Stravagan ones."

Melina's brow creases at trying to remember the history lessons back in the Grand Academy.

"Well, I ain't an expert, but I'll try to give ya the best I got.

The records folks found about Orcs come from the Torran Conquest era. Said they're the ones who ran business in North Irunia. They were quite large and their empire was expansive. Tons-a folk like their place.

Then 'long came the elves, who kicked 'em up to Dragon Peaks. Then the dragons kicked 'em down and out of the Peaks into the plains in Central Irunia. Then on top of that, humans messed 'em up bad; destroyed all their architecture 'long with the elves and dragons.

Over the years, they kinda lost their culture and had to be all guerrilla about their territory. Couldn't cast magic for nothin'. And wouldn't blame 'em, either.

It's when the Nightmare era when they ruined their rep. Figure they'd use the Undead Scourge to take back their old lands. Couldn't stand a chance 'gainst the undead either, but they invaded my city Runiem couple 'o times. Lots of magi died 'cause of orcs, and so most Stravagans give 'em hell for it."

Melina smiles. "Y'all lucky though. Me an' my folk don't give a damn 'bout what people say, so as long as you don't shout crazy lines an' start chucking axes at everywhere, we're as fine an' dusted.

So, that's my land's tale. What 'bout yours?"

 

Edited June 3, 2017 by PigeonOfAstora

[Yours Truly]

Mot mentally noted down how hard it was to move between the rooms of this castle and left the barbarian named Mar to converse with the randomly appearing woman.

He slowly sauntered over to the other randomly appearing person in the room with his motorcycle following closely behind him as usual, and he politely coughed before saying "That is a very unorthodox method of entering a room" 

[Hal Henderics]

"What a sad tale." Mar says.

 

"My own people were once simple savages, nomads, wandering to all four corners of the earth, and doing whatever it is our people chose to do, however, with the advents of technology and magic, our ancestors feared losing our way of life to conveniences, which lead to the Orcish Arts, through spite and heart, we developed the traditional ways of our people such that no technology or magic could compete."

 

"The Earthrist Qi, masters of animals, being herders and trainers in their past, they found agricultural machinery to outperform even their own animals, by simple virtue of them having superior organization and the ability to record and receive information freely.  Earthrist responded to this by training dogs, their most loyal and smart animals, to perform intense thinking, executing arbitrary commands in the same vein as their competitors Arcane Calculators, After all, if you can teach a dog to fetch, could you not teach him to guess next year's crop yield, or to count this year's?"

"The Mucked Prince's Guard, once the masters of plants and herbology, found that the new medicines of the present age would very soon render their arts obsolete, their culture a curiosity at best.  the Mucked Princes left for the swamps of Prince Seratone, not much is known or shared, but when they had returned from the swamp, they had learned a way of chewing things in such a way that their chemicals recombined, creating impossible substances from simple plants and minerals, medicines and poisons that would boggle the mind."

 

"The Terrible Friends, the most warlike among my kind, it is irony that they seem to only have this mantle in spirit now.  As the nature of warfare evolved, the simple act of invading and taking a land by force was no longer an option for them, due to advances in technology and magic, what was once a salted wasteland could be rejuvenated in a matter of days. It was during one such invasion that they eventually found something odd, something many would consider an insult, and it likely was. The Terrible, as they were known then, found that the more they invaded a country, the less seriously the country took it, no amount of destruction would seriously hinder anyone, due to the abilities provided by wandering mages, the people being invaded became complacent, even cordial, after all, invasions always happen on Tuesday, no point getting bent out of shape about it.  There was no doubting The Terrible's Military might, but in these strange times, their leader decided to cleverly exploit this strange power they had over the populous, eventually becoming close allies with the country in question.  Their tactic has been refined for thousands of years since then, invading in the name of diplomacy, becoming the worst marauders of all time."

 

"Lastly, my own tribe, the sister tribe to The Terrible Friends, my own tribe served as the primary source of weapons and tools for all other tribes, and still do today, we were once humble flint knappers, turning stones into arrowheads, into axes, or simple knives.  But with the discovery and refinement of... Metal..."

 

Mar eventually shrugs, smiling to himself.

 

"My ancestors were forced to adapt.  Our tribe was the first tribe to suffer the attacks of the modern era, with nearly every metal being superior to every stone. Many of the tribe left entirely, becoming what are now the Urban Orcish Tribes of the world.  Those that remained doubled down, becoming more and more skilled at the art of working the stone."

 

"It was with the first Perfect Fracture that everything began to change.  An orc had discovered that a single blow to a single stone had somehow created a single arrowhead.  It was an anomaly, an impossibility, but this Orc worked in secret, attempting to figure out what had caused this, he began to see things, objects around him coming into more and more clarity, until eventually he saw the faults in everyday objects.  He came before his tribe's elders, and with a single blow, cracked the symbol of Orcrist Chi into the stone below them, a 20 meter wide plane of stone, carved instantly and perfectly, with nothing but chunks to be removed."

 

Mar chuckles

 

"Needless to say, he had gotten their interest and attention in a single blow."

 

"From that day forward, our kind was taught to see the faults around us, to gain the ability to know the faults around us, to the point where without magic or science on our side, we could do this."

 

Mar takes a rock, and hits another rock, a chunk of obsidian, with it.  The second rock falls apart, like a withering fruit in fast motion. Inside the stone, a stone rose sits perfectly carved. It's bud slowly opens, almost impossibly organic in movement.

 

He plucks a petal from the rose, and using it, cuts a long gouge into the original stone.

 

"Monomolecular edges."

 

"And it is only limited to what I can strike with something.  Even things like cloth, magic or metal can be cracked in this manner."

[Chevaleresse]

Marisa, throughout Mar's storytelling, had drawn a pen and a small journal from somewhere within her dress and begun furiously taking notes. "So, wait, you do this without any magic whatsoever? Just. . . pure skill? That shouldn't be possible, there's no way that you could tell without some sort of observing enchantment. . ." The witch trailed off into what can only be described as magibabble, intermixed with a few mentions of biology. 

[Hal Henderics]

"In my world, I've heard it said that there is no true limitation to skill growth.  Many groups forgo magic and science for simple experience, taken to an impossible level. They refer to these individuals as Mundanus Extremus.  My own abilities ARE enhanced with magic, but not to the end of allowing it to happen. I use unconscious and trained magics to enable my cracking ability to extend to things normally intangible, such as energy or magic."

 

"There is no required aspect of magic involved.  Merely an anomalous level of skill.  In my own world, if you spent your life practicing carpentry, you would not help but to go beyond what is possible.  I was very nearly killed by a Mundanus Extremus who had created a non-magical device from nothing but cloth and thread, a massive humanoid vehicle, whose canvas wrapped fists could crush trees."

 

Mar responds.

[Chevaleresse]

"I see. . ." Marisa continues to scribble down notes. "Um, anything I should look for that distinguishes this world? What do the things with the largest amounts of magical power look like?" She thinks for a moment, involuntarily leaning quite far forward in interest. "Any celestial bureaucracies to worry about? I swear, if I run into anything like those angels on Ravnica again, I'm just blowing things up this time. Six weeks? And that was short? Really?" She shakes her head. "I'd love to go visit it sometime."

[Hal Henderics]

"Our world has a dimensional barrier characterized by it's gelatin-like composition over a solid barrier. The strongest things in my world are Hope's End, a black hole of lethality, the dangers of my world are defined by their distance from it. It is also a trinity of dimentions, the Hellscape, a world of demonic burocracy, ruled by imps who hold dominion over the proper demons of the realm, The Divine Planes, a dimension of floating islands where the Deities and Divine beings manage various things in return for power, and Earthrealm, the world of Mortals, who sacrifice eternal life for impossible power."

 

"If you were to see a trio of worlds which radiates magic and absorbs the objects of the void rather than repels them, you would have found my world, possibly."

 

"As for the absolute strongest beings of my world? That would be The Ancestors.  The Divine Planes have Gods, who have incredible power and immortal life, The Hellscape has the Demon Lords, who used Altruism to receive immortality and their own impossible wealth of power, while in the mortal realm, Mortals who have achieved ultimate power compress their lives into a few precious instants, instants in which they assume the power of a near-omnipotent omniscient being, who creates races, worlds, and new things within Earthrealm, before allowing themselves to die and be reincarnated so as to participate in the world they have created. Ancestors are above Gods and Demon Kings as a God is above an ant, but only for the brief and fleeting instants they allow themselves to exist in their impossible power and knowledge."

[Chevaleresse]

Marisa looks back down, and scribbles a last set of notes down into her book. Somewhat abruptly, it snaps closed, and quickly vanishes into a pocket. "Good to know. Sounds like an interesting place, to say the least - imps subjugating other demons? Mortals being the strongest things around? Those are both new to me. . . And then there's the really juicy stuff, the, uh, what'd you call them, Mundanus Extremus? Going to have to get me some of that. . ." At this point, it wasn't certain whether Marisa was actually talking to Mar or simply thinking out loud. 

[Hal Henderics]

"Oh, also, the main thing about Mundanus Extremus is that magic can spoil one to it, since they may end up using magic by mistake, if they are normally accustomed to not doing hard work manually and physically."

 

"Demons in my world gain power based on how much they are owed.  So the strongest demons have the largest debts. The imps did not like this, so because they are already at the bottom of the power ladder, they could simply put themselves into debt to buy mercenaries to kill and subjugate the hellscape.  Or so the stories go.  There are no more of the Legendary Demon Kings, and there are now laws against amassing too much debt, so I suppose there may be truth in that origin story."

[LucidRain]

"Carvin' stone from fists -an' without magic at all! Well, ain't that somethin'! Looks like your tribe have a thing or two to teach for the folks back at home, huh?" Melina starts noting things down with a small notebook. To be frank, she couldn't comprehend much of this. Stravagans relied heavily on magic, and this Mundanus Extremus was quite revolutionary. She planned on taking this to Lukas or Wyvis, someone with a more comprehensive grasp on the magic in the Ios. If they could successfully replicate this, perhaps the Fading could be resolved after all.

[Hal Henderics]

"I suppose I would be willing to teach it to any who would learn."

[StormLord]

Upon being addressed by a man and his...sentient motorcycle?  Morgan replied with a slightly confused look on his face "I suppose it is, though it would have been nice if someone had told me that leaving one of the rooms while the castle is in motion hits you with the raw power of the twisted infinities.  I don't suggest trying for yourself."  Throughout speaking Morgan's expression slowly changed from confused to annoyed, though after finishing he relaxed slightly and added "I'm Morgan by the way." while extending a handshake.

[LucidRain]

"Well, after all of this is over of course - maybe after all these Trespassers are vanquished, I'll buy ya a drink back in Stravaga, an' you can show a trick or two for the fellows home."

[Yours Truly]

Mot noted the man's facial expressions and he shook Annoyed Morgan's hand. Morgan would have noted several things about Mot's hand, it would feel a bit off, as if there was something horribly wrong about it that he couldn't quite place, but he would note how Mot's handshake was firm enough to indicate that he was paying attention to what Morgan was saying, but not firm enough to seem desperate or untrustworthy. After shaking Morgan's hand Mot would put on his plausibly French accent before saying "You may call me Mot, although it seems that I best be going, I wouldn't want to intrude too much on your sense of privacy after all".

[Strider]

((OOC: Lexiel and Edmond are now in the Servants' Quarters, though you probably won't see them immediately since they landed in a room.))

 

Edmond pulled himself up with a small groan. Around him was an already familiar set of stone walls, containing some broken furniture. "We're back in the castle...? Servants' quarters, I think..." He trailed off, realizing that he was speaking to himself. But...no, wait. There was Lexiel, in a pile of dragon...debris. She should be fine; I doubt that a rough landing would inconvenience an angel overmuch. In any case, Edmond felt that there was little danger anymore, reached up to the side of his head, and removed the helmet of his suit. With the assumption that Lexiel would be alright, and that she would be up in a moment, Edmond peeked out into the hall, and went on until he heard voices speaking. Most were unfamiliar, but there was the Orc's--Mar's voice...and Marisa's voice was also apparent.

Edmond immediately wheeled about, and headed back to the room where Lexiel was, and spoke:

"Lexiel...you probably shouldn't go out there for now. You remember me mentioning Marisa? Well she's out there right now, and while I doubt you would try to make a scene, who knows who things might end up? Please don't take it personally... Actually though, back before Seattle, she told me that she would be showing up on occasion to help out.. which means that we should probably have you two settle your differences--or at least put them aside for now--sooner rather than later. It might help prevent some unnecessary conflict."

Edmond brought his gauntleted hand up to his chin, clearly pondering what should be done.

"No matter what, I believe that I should...warn, for lack of a better word, her ahead of time, before you two talk. It would give her some time to prepare, right? Does that seem reasonable? You could wait here for a minute or two, or even wait around the corner from where they're speaking..."

Edmond watched Lexiel anxiously, waiting for her response. From what he knew, he was slightly less worried about her than Marisa in settling this argument. Lexiel seemed to have a sort of condescending attitude towards Marisa rather than hatred, which, while troublesome, was easily dealt with. Marisa on the other hand felt she had been personally wronged, seemed even...well, not quite afraid, but definitely a little more anxious about the Ravnican cops.

 

Edited June 5, 2017 by Strider

[StormLord]

Morgan walked off from his conversation with Mot and started making his way towards Mar and the others only to suddenly stop about half way there.  Something wasn't right he couldn't place it but some familiar feeling was setting him on edge.

Morgan would catch a fleeting glimpse of Edmond as he turned back from the main hallway to return to Lexiel.  Morgan would also follow Edmond and this ominous presence with a long wand of twisted wood drawn out from the interior of his coat.

Edited June 5, 2017 by StormLord

[DragonRage]

"Marisa?  She's a criminal, or she was when I busted her.  I'm nowhere near my jurisdiction right now, and even if we were she's served her time for what I actually can prove she did," Lexiel states, "I doubt I'll ever like her, but I won't start anything unless she does.  Still, if you want to warn her, go ahead.  I'd rather not be masticated by one of her demon summons today."

Edited June 6, 2017 by DragonRage

[Yours Truly]

Mot simply shrugged at Morgan for leaving, and he went to find a less rude person to talk to.

Rather unfortunately everyone was busy talking amongst themselves, and the only thing that seemed vaguely interesting enough for him to examine was the oddly glowing door. Mot wondered if he finally found a portal to heaven as he firmly knocked on the door with the good old Shave and a Haircut technique.

His motorcycle beeped at the door once, and he accidentally mumbled out an apology in his native accent.

[rustytengo]

Bridgett let out a eep as she heard knocking at the door droping the cartridge she was filling stopping any glowing. After a few moments Bridgett opens the door slightly and looks out from behind it. Seeing the Man? And a motorcycle. She looks down and speaks very quitly.

 

"umm.....hello....can...i..help you with something."

[Strider]

"Ha! It's been quite some time since I've heard someone use that word in a sentence..." Edmond smiled briefly, then continued, "Just try to keep things from escalating on your end." He stepped out the door, and barely looked up in time to stop himself from running into Morgan. Edmond, of course, had no idea who he was, and would not have paused except for the fact that the man seemed to be sneaking about, hand clasped around a wooden stick. Edmond halted, and looked blankly at the man for a moment. "Good...day to you. Might I ask your name? And, pardon me, also your business? I would not ask, except that you seem to be searching for something or following someone."

[StormLord]

"Well, not you, so there's no problem." Morgan says while sliding his wand back into its inner coat pocket.  He also takes a half a step back and leans back some, because he didn't want to intimidate the man.

He reaches out a hand to shake, "I'm Morgan, got picked up at the last stop.  And you're right, I am looking for someone, or rather something.  Can't tell you exactly what they look like, but they're generally tall, spear wielding, wear white, and have two pairs of feathered wing sprouting from their backs.  To humans and natural creatures they inspire love, light, and creation.  To anything else they inspire dread and terror.  The last one I met got the jump on me and nearly ran me through, they're persistent as well, this must be the third one that's found me."

[Strider]

Edmond returned the handshake, without a smile.

"Edmond Cooper, nice to meet you. So you're looking for an angel? I won't deny that there is one here. However, I would remind you of two things: in the first place, the angel is also a hero of the multiverse, here for the battle, and in the second place, consider that angels from her world might be very different from those in your world. So, if you wish to see for yourself, try to be peaceable." Edmond stepped out of the way, allowing the man to pass, and then continued on his way. He went down the hall, passing someone with a motorcycle, until he entered the area where Mar, Marisa and a collection of newcomers were in conversation. Edmond stepped over in his armor, and stood quietly, hands behind his back, waiting for a break in the conversation.

[DragonRage]

Whether it's fortunate or not remains to be seen, but Lexiel has a borderline-superhuman sense of hearing.  Morgan and Edmond are talking right outside the room she's in, and she hears every word they say despite the door between them.  She's never been one to avoid confrontations, and would rather not leave potential problems to sit around like spellbombs waiting for someone to step on.  So, she opens the door and steps out behind Edmond.

 

Tall?  Check!  Lexiel's almost six feet tall.  Spear?  Check!  A bayoneted rifle is close enough for government work!  White clothes?  Check!  She's still wearing her Boros tabard over her armor, a white garment emblazoned with the Boros guild's signet.  Under that is a black trench coat and several bandoleers of bronze-capped vials full of blue liquid, but she is wearing white.  Two pairs of very feathery, black, red, and white wings?  Check!  She's also got a warmly glowing halo wrapping around her head at eye height, and a holy aura that subtly fills the room with barely-audible music, making everyone feel invigorated, inspired, and slightly faster.

 

"And what exactly are you planning to do once you find me, sir Morgan?" Lexiel asks, the hint of bite she tries to inject into her words almost completely drowned out by her rather musical voice and noticeable Ravnican (sounds like Ukrainian) accent.  "Are you saying you want me to hunt you down?  Don't think I've ever had that happen before.  Well, sorry for ruining your plans, but unless you've got some crimes you'd like to confess I've got no reason to come after you.  Even if you do want to turn Guildpact's Evidence I can't do anything more severe than keeping you from skipping bail without a thorough investigation and evidence of actual wrongdoing.  And if you're doing it because you're like that creepy Orzhov banker who kept getting himself arrested because he had a thing for women with wings, I'm really not interested," She purses her lips with distaste and shudders, her feathers whispering over themselves as they respond to the motion.  "I can't say for certain, but it sounds to me like the angels you've met before were suffering from Azor's Blinkers.  Too much letter of the law, and not enough spirit.  It can happen to the best of us."  And her expression and tone make it clear she's speaking from personal experience there.

Edited June 6, 2017 by DragonRage