[Fugu]

He-Who-Watches explores the whole starboard lobe of the ship and finds no one. The starboard lobe has three levels. The middle level, where the skirmish took place, has some storage rooms, a lounge, a meeting room, and an enclosed, faux-porch with a view of space to the rear of the ship. For the first time, He-Who-Watches beholds the heavens.

An immense smoke-wrapped orb of white floats in blackness, armored on one side by a shield of brilliant light, and thronged on the left by a thousand stars. Swaths of red and gold and colors unknown beneath worldly skies drift motionless in the sea of black. The mere sliver of sun that peeks around Jalah’s girth shines gloriously, making everything appear spun of gold, except for the planet itself. Jalah's own shadow subdues most of its surface with darkness.

The lower level of the starboard lobe is where the loudest of the hums—which are always lullingly in the back the mind—are coming from. It is a single, hot room filled with giant, pale green, glistening statues that all connect to one another. They look at one moment like stacks of rounded stones of various giant sizes, and at another like artistic chair legs carved from pale green water. Many connect to the ceiling; many bend to adjoin another before making it that high. He-Who-Watches remembers forests from many ages ago, but as he walks among the pillars looking for stowaways, he notices that the statues adjoin to each other in no discernible fashion of trunks fanning into twigs. It is more like being inside a chaotic bush.

The upper level of the starboard lobe holds six rooms. The outer walls of these curve steeply until they become the ceiling. Five of the rooms appear to be personal quarters. Slanted, slender chairs of the style in the cockpit stand before desks covered with photographs, computers, and souvenirs. Picture boxes similar to Blagorov’s and various objects are scattered about. The personal effects vary from room to room. In each there is a thick cloth-covered mat that must surely be a bed, except that it rests on the wall, in some cases on the outer wall so that is not merely perpendicular to the floor but actually facing down at it somewhat. The sixth room in the upper level contains a large basin big enough for 4 elves to sit in with ease.

He-Who-Watches returns to the middle level and enters the cockpit. While he was searching, McCale helped Morgan bring the bodies to the cockpit, and Glasgow familiarized himself with the ship’s controls. They, too, have beheld space.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 17 May 2006 - 07:31 PM

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan is relieved to see McCale when he comes to help him bring the prisoners to the cockpit, as that signals the end of boredom. Arriving at the cockpit he turns to Glasgow and says, in Common: "Can you believe that Blagorov? So we're animals, eh? I guess that pretty much seals the deal. Now I wouldn't stay there for a minute longer if my life depended on it."

Then he motions toward the bound wariti. "One of those is probably that captain that Blagorov was talking about, maybe he has something useful to say."

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches barely stops in the cockpit before heading for the yet unexplored side of the ship, still looking for unnaccounted for passengers, especially after having found more personnal quarters that are as of yet accounted for.

[Benevolance]

The field of stars momentarily sweeps Glasgow away. In another time, standing on the command deck of a shallow-hauled smuggling ship, gazing at white dots spread across a black canvas. A cargo of contraband below, the stars above as guides and a sleek vessel to ply his trade. It was freedom.

Glasgow is brought back to the moment, smiling. He idly traces his finger along the dashboard in a caress. His smile broadens. A contraband wand, the stars before him, and a sleek vessel. All good things. He settles his hands on the controls. I don't believe we've made a proper introduction. Glasgow eases the ship forward, backward. He pitches the ship slightly, then more, then rolls, getting a feel for the motion of the vessel and its capabilities.

He barely notices the others when they arrive, grunting non-committally until they leave him be. It is a fine ship.

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 18 May 2006 - 05:51 PM

[Fugu]

McCale listens to Morgan's one-sided conversation with Glasgow in Common. "What was that about Blagorov?" he asks Morgan in Xintus.

He-Who-Watches
The port lobe of the ship begins with a high-ceilinged, elegant room. There are couches, slanted like the chairs, sculptures and paintings, an exotic chandelier, and even a small pool with a waterfall against the inner wall. The outer wall is spanned by the largest window to the heavens you have yet seen. Jalah is not visible here; instead you see a completely different landscape than before, though you can begin to recognize elements of it from earthly viewings, distorted as they are.

At the back of the room there is a door, and a pair of metal poles that twist parallel up to a small balcony, like a spiral staircase without stairs. A black disc floats between the two poles near the floor. (The starboard lobe's levels were all connected by elevator.) The balcony has a door of its own.

The middle-level door leads to a beige room full of shelves, cabinets, and alien machinery whose function you cannot guess. There are sealed, opaque jars and boxes packing the shelves, and, if you look inside, the cabinets as well. They contain all sorts of things--strangely colored leaves, cuts of gelatinous muck, liquids of all colors and viscosities, powders... One container even makes a chirp-like noise and rattles a bit as you walk by. There are two doors in this room besides that through which you entered--one leads to a small freezer with even more containers. The other leads to a bedroom like the ones in the starboard lobe. The bedroom has an elevator. Going down, you find a room exactly like the lower-level in the starboard lobe. Going up, you find another bedroom, but larger and more luxurious. Like all the bedrooms, the bed is up on the curved wall.

You search all of these rooms and, finding no one, return to the cockpit.

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan turns to McCale and switches to Xinthus. "Oh, sorry, hard to kick old language habits. I was just telling our friend here that we're done with Blagorov. There's no way we can even have any sort of conversation with him, if that's what he thinks of us."

He then sits on whatever available sitting surface that's appropriate to his dimensions in the immediate vicinity, and lays his arms on his knees. "Now, about the bowl... how did you find out how to use it?"

[Fugu]

"It was entirely by accident. The bowl was in the room while a labbie and I were talking. He happened to say--well I guess really he said," and then McCale says a string of words that Morgan does not understand. "It means 'That's my motto' in the human language. And suddenly the bowl started glowing and it wasn't the bowl anymore. It was a globe--well, I realized when I went to pick it up that it was still the bowl, it was projecting a hologram around itself that was the perfect image of your planet. Mountains in all the right places, icy, and everything. From the point of the globe where the castle would have been, 5 strands of colored light shone in different directions, each about 2 feet long. A silver one shone directly toward the safe where the wand was kept. I carried the bowl back and forth, spun it about, nothing could fool it. I took the wand out of the safe and sure enough no matter where the wand went, the silver beam followed. I quickly put it together from what you'd told us. Thel's scroll was misleading--the wand is not the keyfinder, the bowl is."

"By the way, as soon as one of them wakes up we should ask where the ship's locator is. That will need to be disabled as quickly as possible if we don't want the wariti government to know where we are."

This post has been edited by Fugu: 19 May 2006 - 02:35 PM

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches walks into the cockpit. Seeing Glasgow entranced at the controls, and McCale and Morgan deep in conversation, he makes his way to the bound prisoners. He quickly assesses their conditions, then does whatever he can to make them more comfortable.

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan nods at HWW. "Found anything?"

He then turns back to McCale. "Wow, stumbling upon a foreign-language command word like that. But strange, I could swear the bowl did conjuration, what you described sounds like a combination of divination and illusion. I'll have to look into that. Could you... write down that command word for me, I don't know, as it would sound like in Xinthus?"

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches shakes his head negatively, stops, then shrugs.

"No extra passengers, no. Obviously, a lot of stuff otherwise."

[Fugu]

"Well, if Thel drew the wand in the center position on the scroll so that we'd think it was the keyfinder, I wouldn't put it past her to mask the magic in the bowl to try and reinforce that assumption. She seems rather paranoid about undesirables collecting the keys. But sure, I can write down the phonetics for you."

McCale pulls a small pad and pen from his lab coat pocket, scribbles something, and hands the page to Morgan. The page reads "KRAY TOO VON-wuh." Morgan says them softly to himself mind, but doesn't recognize any meaning.

McCale turns to Glasgow and gives him the information needed to navigate to the supply depot.

[Fugu]

A couple hours later, Morgan, Lance, McCale, and the three captives are in the cockpit. He-Who-Watches is meditating in the large, parlor-like room in the port lobe. McCale is in the process of explaining how tesser drives work when one of the captives begins to moan. He suddenly stiffens, then looks warily about the cockpit. He tests his bonds and finds them quite secure.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 24 May 2006 - 12:24 AM

[Lynx Cat]

"Well well, our new friend is awake. Don't worry, we're not gonna hurt you, just making sure you don't do anything stupid. What's your name?" Morgan says in Xinthus.

He turns to the others. "When we heard Blagorov talking all over the ship... can we talk to Watcher and call him here the same way?"

[Benevolance]

Glasgow turns on the intercom. "Uh...He-who-watches? The wariti are waking up. Did you want to come up here?"

[Barak]

OOC: Assuming Glasgow manages to turn the intercom on, HWW makes his way there ASAP.

[Fugu]

Almost unnervingly quickly, He-Who-Watches arrives in the cockpit.

The wariti speaks neutrally, in an almost golem-like voice, "What do you intend to do with us?"

[Barak]

Cutting off anybody else, He-Who-Watches speaks up.

"Assuming you cooperate, we intend to let you off first time we make port. However, Blagorov declared war on us, and, as far as I know, you are allied with him. So, should you decide to oppose us, I'd have no problem with torturing you or killing you as an enemy combatant."

[Benevolance]

Glasgow nods approvingly. "In my day we would just keel haul dissidents. But...I'm not quite certain how we'd do that up here." The elf turns to McCale with a curious exp​ression, "What would happen if we pushed them outside?"

[Fugu]

McCale grins. "Well, they could tell you better than I. I know a human would suffocate in a matter of seconds--terrible way to go, suffocation."

[Benevolance]

"Interesting." Glasgow returns to the controls.

[Barak]

"Well, first off, how about telling us how to turn off the.. Desponder, isn't it called?"

[Fugu]

"You mean the locator?" McCale asks quizzically.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 24 May 2006 - 03:24 PM

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches rolls his eyes.

"Sure, that is what I meant."

[Fugu]

"I know not how easily frightened your people are," the wariti replies with disdain, glaring at He-Who-Watches, "but you will find that even a child of the wariti race is beyond the influence such bullying. Find the locator yourself."

This post has been edited by Fugu: 24 May 2006 - 08:33 PM

[Benevolance]

"Morgan, can you use your magic to make one compliant?"

[Lynx Cat]

"Aye-aye, captain!" Morgan says with a salute.

He then turns to the wariti that had been talking, and makes slow and rythmic motions, complimented by a droning, soothing vocalization.

"You will answer our questions truthfully."

(OOC: Cast Hypnotism on the wariti.)

This post has been edited by Lynx Cat: 24 May 2006 - 08:59 PM

[Fugu]

The wariti tries to shut its eyes, but the lure of your voice draws it in. Its head rocks with the rhythm of the spell, entranced.

[Benevolance]

"So can He-Who-Watches and I ask questions? Or what? How does this work?" Glasgow glances at the gnome, a little confused.

[Lynx Cat]

"I suppose you can, but it should work better if I do it myself." He turns to the wariti. "Now my friend, please tell me where the locator is."

[Fugu]

"...a panel..." it points at the ceiling, which is empty except for several small light fixtures. "...there's a button under the main console..."

Glasgow feels the underside of the console for such a button, and finds one in a recess. If he looks, it is unmarked.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow looks at the button, then at Morgan. "You're sure about this?" Once Morgan confirms the potency of his spell, Glasgow presses the button. He winces slightly upon doing so, as if anticipating a thunderous response.

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 25 May 2006 - 10:37 PM

[Fugu]

Just like the ship's accelerator on the console, a square-shaped seam appears in the ceiling. The panel slides out of view, and a thin metal arm with three pincers telescopes down to eye level. The pincers hold nothing.

The wariti looks up at the empty "hand", and its face adopts spaced-out puzzlement. "It's gone..."

This post has been edited by Fugu: 26 May 2006 - 12:00 AM

[Benevolance]

"Gone? What's gone? What's supposed to be here? Does this mean the locator is already disabled?" Glasgow looks blankly between the Wariti, McCale, and Morgan.

[Barak]

"Great. One of these probably hid it when we first boarded."

He-Who-Watches starts searching the bound wariti (not the one currently talking) for anything out of place that looks like it could have fit properly in the "claw".

[Lynx Cat]

"Which one of you is the boss here?"

[Fugu]

The wariti thinks for a moment, then responds, "Reng Kpo is the ranking officer," and points to one of the other captives.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 26 May 2006 - 05:50 PM

[Benevolance]

Glasgow switches on the autopilot. "Maybe I should snoop around. I've got experience at this sort of thing. What does this device look like?"

[Search (assuming taking 10) 10 + 16 = 26]

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 29 May 2006 - 06:10 PM

[Fugu]

"I don't know," says McCale with a shrug. "I just know all the wariti government ships have them."

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan turns again to the ensorcelled wariti. "Who is... what was his name again... I guess that was Zao Rossa? Who's that?"

[Fugu]

"Rao Zrossa is the captain," the wariti answers, looking around the cabin slowly. "Strange, the captain isn't here..."

[Lynx Cat]

"Well where was he, or she last seen?!"

[Fugu]

McCale interrupts, "Wariti gender isn't like humans, or your species, I gather. About two-thirds are sort of hermaphroditic--Xintus uses the female pronoun--and the others are incapable of reproduction, more of an 'it' than a 'he'. The wariti language uses the pronoun 'zu'. They were once second-class citizens, but both genders have been socially equal for almost three hundred y-"

He notices the exp​ressions of impatience surrounding him and trails off.

Morgan repeats his query to the wariti, who responds, "Zu was with us when you came aboard. Must have hid somewhere. Say, didn't you--yes, you captured us!" He looks down at his bonds. "What in- what did you do to me!?" The haze has faded from its eyes.

[Lynx Cat]

"That's... just a guarantee. Just so you don't do anything that forces us to defend ourselves."

He turns to HWW. "Heard that? There's another one of them somewhere in the ship."

[Benevolance]

"Could the Wariti may be in contact with our pursuers? McCale, stay here and watch the console. Call if anything changes." Glasgow looks at He-Who-Watches. "I may need your help if the Captain is violent. I'm going to search the Captain's -- no, let's go check the engines. If someone stole my ship and I knew help was coming, the first thing I'd do is sabotage the rudder so my friends could catch up."

[Fugu]

At that moment, the lights go out. The hum of the ship stops. The video screens go blank. The instruments blink off. You can see each other only by the pale, cool aura of the stars.

[Benevolance]

"Yes. Just like that." I should have checked the ship myself, he curses inwardly.

Glasgow pauses to take a deep breath, then launches into command.

"McCale, try and get the ship running from here. I will go to the engines and see what I can do. Morgan, will your magic locate our saboteur? I'll need some light, too. He-Who-Watches should remain on the command deck in case the captain tries to free his crew."

Glasgow powers up his rifle, conceals his knife in his boot.

[Sleight of Hand +16 to conceal knife]

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 30 May 2006 - 02:35 PM

[Fugu]

"One of the store rooms should have flares," offers McCale.

[Lynx Cat]

The sound of magical syllables being invoked by a nasal voice, a rather familiar sound by now, is heard in the darkness, and the LEDs on Glasgow's weapon jump briefly as a tiny hand touches the rifle - which appears to ignite and then glow in a burst of bright amber light that brings the room back into the realm of the visible.

"There you go. Can't help much with finding him though, I guess I'd rather stay here and look at our hosts while McCale works. Oh, and the spell isn't forever, though it should be enough for the job." That said, the spell is heard again, now with visual accompaniment, as Morgan casts it on his own rifle.

(OOC: Cast Light twice.)

[Barak]

Damn it! Oh well, there was no way I could have searched such a strange ship efficiently.

He-Who-Watches justs nods.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow glances at the gnome, momentarily taken aback, but quickly nods.

"Right. But can you make yourself invisible again? If we are taken by surprise, the wariti will see only me. You can finish him off if he should get the jump on us."

Whatever the outcome, Glasgow leads the way out of the command room and cautiously down the hallway to the engine room. Trusting his eyes over his ears, he keeps a sharp lookout for the enemy.

[Spot +13, Listen +2, Hide & Move Silent +5]

[Lynx Cat]

"Well... Watcher? You wanna stay here while I go? Because I'd rather have someone here to watch them... while McCale works. That alright?" Morgan puts down his enlightened rifle and starts preparing his components while saying so.

[Fugu]

The story continues in Chapters 3A and 3B, then resumes here.

A muscular elf, covered in drying red and black blood, stands between an open elevator, which houses two motionless wariti slumped against one another, and a forest of giant green statues which hum with warmth and energy.

"Stay there! The room is trapped," calls a voice from within the labyrinth. The sound of an energy blast mixed with a painful howl echoes to He-Who-Watches in the ensuing silence. A soild, authoritative voice speaks invisibly, "Bring your friend to the cabin, and quickly. We've got to get out of here before the Qua 'Bvu realize we've survived."

A tall wariti, almost the size of a human, emerges from the warm, watery forest, followed by a wounded elf who carries an unmoving gnome on one shoulder (the other shoulder has been bitten off). The wariti is spraying itself with a gas canister. It walks right past He-Who-Watches into the elevator and bends to examine his unconscious crew.

"My thanks for bringing them. You did not have to. What of Reng Kpo?"

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches shrugs at the question.

"Dead, I assume. The human is, for sure. Brought those two because the beasts could have been hiding in their plane, and they were defenseless. Bad diplomacy to allow defenseless future hosts to get killed, I thought."

[Benevolance]

"Right. Everybody friends? Good. Let's move this ship before more of those creatures come." And before Blagarov and the others catch up.

Glasgow quickly fights down a feeling of claustrophobia as he steps passed the others and into the elevator. It is not the confines but the...existence of this physical space. His body feels heavy and wooden after the complete freedom so recently tasted. I wonder if I can go back? Will those creatures be waiting? The thought is troubling and enticing.

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan stumbles through the underbrush. Plants he has not seen in weeks, or maybe millenia, snag at his boots as he runs. There is a vague sensation of dread and urgency. Morgan is at first unsettled by the uncertainty of that threat, but soon the chilling howls drive home his situation. His band is surrounded, and the wolves are dangerous.

His attention is drawn to Jixon, who is jumped by a vicious beast, though Morgan is too late to run or cast a spell in his aid. "Jixon!", he calls out, but somehow he realizes it wasn't really his comrade's name that escaped his lips.

Ragshaw is screaming in a strange language as he fends off another two wolves. What language can that be? Morgan runs to his aid, but again, the spell comes too late.

He sees another beast creeping up behind Wela, and tries to shout a warning. "Wela, behind you!" But then he realizes he's not speaking Common, or even Gnomish. He's speaking an incomprehensible language, so that, strangely enough, even himself has no idea what he's saying. The predator lunges at his friend, and again Morgan is too late, this time tripping in the deep snow beneath his feet. His hand comes up from the snow holding a shiny doorknob.

Before he can reflect on that, he sees his other teammates shouting to each other in the same alien language Ragshaw was using, which he now realizes to be Common. Why can't he understand it? He feels a lump in his mouth, and tries to speak, but out comes nothing but gibberish. The cold is overwhelming.

Belorn points his rifle at one of the man-wolves and shoots, but that doesn't faze the creature in the least. It moves on, implacably. Jixon's sword runs right through it, since the beast does not fully exist. It only exists in the precise measure necessary to kill. To destroy. It tears Wela apart again, revealing wires and beeping lights inside her. Morgan feebly tries to cast a spell in their aid, but cannot say the words to it, only nonsense comes out of his mouth. Ragshaw fights again, the onslaught of vanishing man-wolves unstoppable. "Why won't they attack me?", Morgan screams to himself. "Why can't I fight them?"

The trees start to wobble and ooze, like thick green liquid trunks. One of them shoots out of the ground under Morgan's feet, trapping him in an ice-cold column. He scrambles futilely to get out of it, as Ragshaw - or is it Glasgow? - gets torn apart by the enemies, which are now more man than wolf. Belorn, now down to a simple loincloth, does a flying kick to Blagorov's bodiless claw, which was about to tear Wela apart again. However, she stops him with a manic look in her eyes, that said she was trying to tell him how their enemy's body works.

Morgan's movements become slower and slower, as the substance around him gets colder, harder, and clearer. Everything and everyone is continually dying around him as he is encased in his frigid coffin, the humans, the labbies and cormi tearing apart, dismantling, decomposing his friends, the trees, the mountains, the sea, the air. Only cold is left. Only frost. The freezing ice of white lab coats.

One of the labbies approaches him. He pulls a cutting instrument from his coat, and starts drilling at the ice. His eyes are solid, smooth, reflective, cold steel spheres. Morgan sees his own form reflected in the lifeless orbs, donned in a gown dyed crimson with the blood of a whole world, exposed electric wires wrapped around his body, connected to it and torn apart, and with a bowl and a wand in his hands.

The labbie pulls the bowl and wand from Morgan's lifeless fingers, and touches the wand to the bowl, as if mixing stew. A fire appears inside the bowl, and is reflected in the labbie's - Gaeric's - eyes, which burn, intensely, with a blaze of their own. He then points the wand upwards, and tendrils of flame shoot out from the bowl, following it into the night sky, connecting the bowl and Gaeric and Morgan to faraway stars. The ground vanishes from under them, and they sail the star-studded expanse.

The fire in Gaeric's eyes grows brighter and hotter as the two sail behind the ropes of light at a blinding speed. He starts smoking, then smoldering, then burning, a maelstrom of flame around the twin suns. The fire grows brighter and unbearably brighter, but before Morgan is completely blinded and everything fades, he can make out a mark. The monster's mark.

(OOC: Still unconscious, and dreaming, or maybe hallucinating. Will recount all of these visions to He-Who-Watches and Glasgow - and only them - at the earliest opportunity.)

This post has been edited by Lynx Cat: 16 October 2006 - 08:40 PM

[Fugu]

The tiny room rises, and the door opens. Murky red light floods the crooked hall. Rao Zrossa hefts one of his unconscious comrades over a shoulder and runs toward the cabin--followed by He-Who-Watches, carrying the other wariti, and Glasgow, carrying Morgan. Glasgow sees no ship through the crimson windows as he passes them--only the bloody heavens.

The captain's weighty voice chisels the air. "It will do no good to flee--not in this ship anyway. Our only hope is that the humans aren't too far behind you."

Zrossa bursts into the cabin, stepping around shadowhound corpses and into the central chair. He begins manipulating controls and typing into the computer rapidly. "You," it points to Glasgow, then to the chair at his right side. "Prepare the ship to make a long-range jump. Destination is the first one on the list. Do not initiate the jump. You," it points at He-Who-Watches, then to the chair at his left. "Take our casualties down to an escape pod in the other engine bay. We'll meet you there."

This post has been edited by Fugu: 17 October 2006 - 07:46 PM

[Benevolance]

"Wait a moment," says Glasgow, forestalling He-Who-Watches departure with an arm. "You said McCale was dead. Where is the body?" Where are the wand and bowl?

"We should gather his personal effects for return to his next of kin. It is only proper."

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 18 October 2006 - 02:08 PM

[Barak]

"Since he was dead, I have left him where he has fallen."

[Fugu]

"There are but moments before the Qua 'Bvu cast their net and trap us," snaps Rao Zrossa. "We do not have time for primitive sentiment! Maht! No one in range behind us--the humans couldn't keep up. Pray to Mikshah there is someone ahead..." His gaze is fixated in several display screens on the console.

[Barak]

Looking at Glasgow, He-Who-Watches ignores the wariti.

"I'll look on him on the way."

Picking up the uncounscious waritis, he puts them on the chair, one by one, and starts pushing it in the direction of where he left McCale.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow nods to HWW, grateful, then settles into the pilot's chair. Glasgow toggles the dials and buttons necessary to prepare the jump, stopping just sort of launch.

"I've laid in the course, wariti. But what next? Do you plan to lure these creatures away by sailing this ship onward while we hop off the back in a barrell? Are these creatures really so guillable? If this vessel cannot outrun that monstrosity out there, what hope have we in a smaller craft?"

[Fugu]

He-Who-Watches pushes the three bodies through the wrecked guvnaht. McCale's body is nowhere to be seen.

Back in the cabin, the wariti coninues to pore over the console. "Speed is obsolete, savage. The dilemma in this age is not when do we get there, but where do we go... Ah ha!"

Rao Zrossa leans over Glasgow's station and begins typing furiously. "Whoever swiped our locator obviously hid another one somewhere. This was not a random encounter." Menus whiz by on the display, until the screen shows two alien characters. The second one is replaced by a third, which is replaced by a fourth. "Go!" The wariti ushers you out of the cabin. "Go! Go!"

As Glasgow departs, the rear-vew display shows dozens of spiky tendrils spiraling out of the pursuing behemoth and toward the wariti vessel.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow slings the rifle over his shoulder as he slips out of the console. He gathers the unconscious Morgan carefully in his arms, conscious of the wounded shoulder. Glasgow lingers at the doorway. "I hope you are not planning any last minute heroics, wariti. If you did not steal the locator, then I suspect your companions will need your aid before this is through. We may have a common foe."

Glasgow heads down to the escape pod.

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 20 October 2006 - 04:12 PM

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches winces as he sees that McCale has disappeared, leaving only his clothes. Searching quickly throught them, he finds only odds and ends, which he pockets.

As I feared. It couldn't be helped, but still. Those artefacts.. Will be missed soon, I wager.

Thinking back on how it happened, he spares a few precious seconds to peek behind the couch where McCale hid for a while.

With no way of doing anything else about it, he continues towards the escape pods.

This post has been edited by Barak: 23 October 2006 - 04:44 AM

[Fugu]

He-Who-Watches arrives at the escape pods lining the port engine room without trouble. The green pillars here appear to pulse ever more insistently as he loads Reng Kpo, Morgan, and the as yet unidentified wariti into a pod. Through speakers everywhere, a huge wariti voice begins echoing stacatto syllables at just-less-than-one-second intervals. By the time Glasgow and Rao Zrossa enter the room, the heat has risen to a swelter and the humming become a piercing whine. The liquid standing stones practically froth as Rao Zrossa closes the escape pod door and dashes to the pod's console. Red light chokes the room through the front window. The voice continues booming its countdown.

"Prepare yourselves." Rao Zrossa zips through display screens and then pulls a swiveling handle out of the console surface. He stands tense, ready to turn it.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow braces himself by whatever means are available, looking to He Who Watches and asking, "Did you find everything?"

[Fugu]

Before the monk can respond, the the wariti sharply turns the handle in time with a final bellow from the voice. The hum of the ship's engines reaches a fever pitch, and the whole escape pod rumbles like a boxcar in a waking volcano. The vibrations become more intense, but also more fine and resonant. You feel the furniture, the air, your very bodies begin to expand. The red aura of the heavens fades to blinding white as suns and comets streak past the giant front window. But you are not moving past these stars--you are enveloping them. And still the vibrations refine and intensify. The line between yourselves and the pod, between the pod and outer space lose meaning. Here and that lose meaning. You are the chair gripped tightly in your palms. You are the comet on lonely pilgrimage through space--through you. You are the golden bowl looking at itself.

Infinity dances on your mind's horizon. Somewhere deep within you, the wariti captain turns the handle back. The vibrations of the engines retreat from union. Your body retreats. Place and portion return to your senses. Stars fly by in reverse now, resuming their discrete and distant radiance. The world's quivering devolves into shuddering, shuddering into rumbling. At last the rumbling fades to stillness.

A tiny raft floats in the womb of space. There are stars. One vanishes, then another appears. A smudge in the black swims near, or perhaps far, blocking light as it moves. Lines and corners. A ship.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 29 October 2006 - 02:44 PM

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches turns towards Glasgow.

"No, nothing. And now I must meditate."

He then sits on the floor in lotus position, closes his eyes, and does just so.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow blinks twice. "Medi-what? No - " Glasgow stares incredulously at the monk. He looks at the silent and unconscious form of Morgan. He casts a glance at the wariti. Great.

The elf unslings the rifle, leaning it carefully against the corner of a bulkhead. Finding a place to sit, he makes himself comfortable. He mutters to himself, "At the heart of every problem is a woman." He rubs the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, trying to make the mental noise of the jump subside.

"So what now, wariti? What's the story?"

[Fugu]

Rao Zrossa, while less on edge than the rest of you, was nevertheless quite tense during the jump. He relaxes now, and begins piloting the escape pod toward the bricklike ship in the distance.

He toggles a switch, and faint static buzzes over an intercom. Rao Zrossa speaks a couple of sentences in a language you do not understand. Several seconds pass. A response comes in Xintus over the intercom, "Understood, Captain. Give us a few minutes to prepare." The static continues.

Rao Zrossa decelerates the pod and maneuvers it into a slow orbit around the transport. He glances sidelong at He-Who-Watches, then at Glasgow. His face seems more alien than ever. "They'll be ready for us soon."

[Fugu]

Minutes pass. The pod drifts over a yawning loading dock and descends. Through the window, you see a barren, dirty floor rising up to you. There are nine humans in the spacious dock. One wears a techie's orange uniform. Eight wear the black and gold of the cormi, and are steadily aiming eight rifles at the descending pod. The pod comes to rest.

Rao Zrossa glares at Glasgow. "Oh, savage, I hope you are not planning any last minute heroics... if you deem theft and murder to be such."

This post has been edited by Fugu: 21 November 2006 - 12:25 AM

[Benevolance]

"Honestly, wariti, you wrong me. I am a survivor."

Glasgow bends down to pick up Morgan, surrepticiously concealing the knife further in his boot as he does. He carefully supports Morgan against his good shoulder. With the other arm he retrieves his rifle. He dangles the weapon gingerly by the strap, to demonstrate he has no intent to use the weapon.

[Sleight of hand +14]

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 24 November 2006 - 05:52 PM

[Barak]

Suddenly, the elf's eyes open, and he stands up smoothly.

"That was long overdue."

He then looks around, unconcerned at the rifle-wielding humans.

"So.. Where are we?"

[Benevolance]

"Home, sweet home," Glasgow answers, with a sardonic smile.

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches raises an eyebrow as he turns towards Glasgow.

"I, for one, was not born on a ship that navigated the emptiness that surrounds the stars."

Turning towards Rao Zrossa, he switches gears.

"Who owns that ship, and to whom do they owe fealty?"

[Benevolance]

"It's a figure of - " Glasgow just trails off and shakes his head.

I don't know who is the more alien: the frog or the elf. I sure hope Morgan wakes up soon. Oh, hells. I hope he's not angry at me for shooting him. But running off half-cocked like that into a trap? I ought to have wrung his neck. But still, maybe it's better if he sleeps a little longer. Glasgow frowns with the glum certainty that things will be worse before they get better.

[Fugu]

The wariti, alternating his enigmatic gaze between Glasgow and He-Who-Watches, steps backward until he is behind the pod door, and presses the doorswitch. The door whooshes open. "Out," he orders.

You smell fear in the humans outside. More than a couple of their rifles tremble ever-so-slightly.

[Benevolance]

The elf departs the pod with great difficulty, knowing that he walks back into a cage. As he exits, he cannot resist a parting shot to the amphibious captain: "Wariti, it's been a pleasure. Your men were such excellent hosts; we simply must do this again sometime." He forces a smile to the assembled guards. It is a rather thin smile. "And thank you all for coming to greet us. You shouldn't have, really."

He adjust the bundle-that-is-Morgan on his good shoulder so that he is more comfortable, and waits for the inevitable.

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 04 January 2007 - 12:47 PM

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches bows towards Rao Zrossa.

"I apologize deeply for the harm we have brought your people. You must believe we were under duress, and did what we had to, regretting that we had to bring innocent bystanders into our own struggle for freedom. You have proved yourself, and by extension, your people to be honorable, and the name wariti is now held high by myself. If we do meet again, I hope it will be under better circumstances."

He-Who-Watches then walks out of the ship, towards the waiting guards, head held high.

[Fugu]

The wariti seems unmoved by the speech. One of the cormi barks an order and the eight guards split into two groups of four, rifles remaining trained on yourselves. The orange-uniformed techie (whose insignia suggests his captaincy of the vessel) tentatively orders you to march between the soldiers and into the industrial-looking corridor beyond. The cormi's feet clank behind you in dreary unison, beating out time against the metal lattice of the floor. Cables and pipes of all sizes twine in and out of the ceiling and walls, ignoring your trespass. The cormi who shouted before soon orders you to halt at an intersection of two corridors, to turn, and to proceed. The maze of pipes and cables is now broken every dozen meters by a dirty, battered, but solid sliding door, each one large enough for two full-grown ogres to walk through side-by-side. As you pass the ninth of these doors, the cormi calls, "Halt!" again. The orange-uniformed captain moves warily to the filthy door, and presses the switch beside it. He quickly moves away from you as the door jumps out several centimeters with a bang, then slowly shudders to one side, moaning low.

"You will remain here until... until further notice," explains the captain. Under the tense gaze of the cormi, you file into the warehouse, and the door moans back into place.

The windowless storeroom is 10 x 10 x 5 meters, and quite chilly, like the rest of the ship. The elves' eyes have by now adjusted to the dim lighting offered by the vessel's sparse fixtures; the yellowing of their decay makes their light strangely less alien than the flourescent lights of the scientists. The filth and gloom of the atmosphere provoke a nostalgia Glasgow never imagined he could feel for the caves of the old days. Metal crates large and small occupy the corners, but the room is mostly empty. The sound of distantly grinding metal echoes continuously through this place.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 10 January 2007 - 04:28 AM

[Benevolance]

Glasgow lays Morgan down carefully on a crate before examining the room once around for signs of scry- no, they are listening devices in this time. The overwhelming sense of antiquity left him momentarily confused.

He will attempt to disable any video or audio feeds that he discovers.

[Search +16, Spot +13, Security +10]

[Fugu]

A slightly less dirty 2 x 2 meter section of the floor catches Glasgow's roving eye. It is definitely a door, but he can find no means of opening it. The panel fits snugly into its frame. He also notices a small lens in the upper back corner of the room. It is well beyond his normal reach, but the crates prove surprisingly light and easy to move. After rearranging some of them into a suitable stair, Glasgow reaches the lens with ease. Alas, Glasgow discovers that he has no idea how to disable the camera, besides a good skewering with a knife.

Search: 6 + 16 = 22.
Spot: 17 + 13 = 30.
Climb: 8 + 9 = 17.
Security: 1 + 10 = 11.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow climbs back down the crates, a little disappointed. He shrugs to He Who Watches, saying in Elven, "Not much I can do about it. But we should figure out what our next move is going to be. Did you retrieve the wand and bowl?"

[Fugu]

Morgan recovers consciousness while the two elves are talking. After half an hour of discussion, all three fugitives agree that the situation is grim, but not all is lost--this must be the ship upon which McCale said he hid Thel's artifacts. Glasgow's naval instincts tell him that the vessel has not changed course.

(Consider yourselves up to date on all that has happened to each of you, unless there are details you would have left unmentioned.)

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches shakes his head negatively.

"They were not on McCale."

After walking around the room for a bit, he comes back near Glasgow.

"I would say we should leave this room."

[Benevolance]

"I agree. But where to?"

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches seems about to answer, then stops himself and thinks for a second.

"You are correct. We are on a ship, and apparently not one we can simply jump off of and swim to shore. Escaping this room, we might be able to inflict some damage, but I doubt we could comandeer the ship. We had problems doing so with the wariti, and it was much smaller, and not manned by as many people. There might not be a point in even attempting to escape this room until we make port somewhere."

[Fugu]

As, He-Who-Watches' words settle in your brains, you all hear the clomping of boots on rattling metal. They stop right outside the storeroom. The door shudders to one side, revealing your eight rifle escort. "You are being moved to more permanent quarters. Move."

In the same manner as before, you are escorted down several dim corridors whose network seems to branch endlessly and emptily. You are ordered to halt in one of these corridors. One cormus lowers his rifle long enough to press a button amid the tapestry of cables and pipes on the walls. A horizontally-grooved panel falls inward, suddenly registering in its new orientation as a ladder to a room below. "In you go." You notice several such panels on both sides of this corridor.

At the bottom of the ladder, you find a cramped, oblong room with an aluminum sink, some cabinets underneath it, and a curiously shaped panel beside it on the opposite wall, and two bunks on the side walls. There is no relief here from the vessel's motif of industrial grays and greens. "Get comfortable," growls the ranking cormus. "It's 5 days to Nobodaddy." The ladder-door slams shut above you.

Upon investigation, the cabinets contain a stocked fridge and pantry, minor medical supplies, and toilet paper. Sure enough, the curiously-shaped panel is a pull-out toilet.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 22 January 2007 - 04:52 PM

[Lynx Cat]

As soon as the toilet is revealed, Morgan rushes up to it, leans on it dizzily, and empties his stomach's contents. After a few minutes of this, he washes his face on the sink and slumps down by a bunker. "My head... it's like King Theobald's 33rd legion just marched on and through it." He looks feebly at his fellows. "Sorry for not doing away with those guards, guys, but I really needed this. I wasn't even able to see straight, or walk the same way." He makes a weak hand gesture in Glasgow's general direction. "Oh, by the way, don't sweat it about shooting me back there, I was probably on the way to doing something really stupid. Damn poison. Guess we should stick to hard liquor eh?"

He sits up on the bunker and rubs his eyes. "You guys wouldn't believe the creepy dream I've had." He proceeds to describe it (OOC: narrated in my latest IC post above) and adds a part at the end where he seemed to become one with the whole universe, and saw a giant and a ghost talking inside a frozen cathedral. "I guess they were talking about us, calling us Beloved. Funny, huh?"

"So... Nobodaddy, isn't that where McCale said the ship he hid the artifacts in was headed to? Guess we oughtta wait it out and try to find the ship once we get there, right, guys?"

[Benevolance]

"I had that same feeling when the wariti activated the escape pod engines. I think that the wand and bowl may be on this ship. McCale said that he hid the items on a transport ship." Glasgow rubs the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, pacing the cramped quarters to the best of his ability.

"The wariti scanned for other vessels before we jumped ship. Blagarov isn't on this vessel; he wouldn't have sent that cowardly intern to greet us. We were hot on the heels of the transport vessel, it is unlikely any other ships were in range...so the wand and bowl might just be on this ship. Morgan, do you have any way of detecting those objects? Can you sense them from here?" Glasgow wiggles his fingers in what he presumes to be a mystic fashion.

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 29 January 2007 - 04:02 PM

[Lynx Cat]

"I could try, but I don't think it's gonna work unless we get close, especially with those walls on the way. I mean, theoretically their auras could spread further than those of normal items, what with being powerful artifacts and all, but I'm not gonna rely on that. I think we're better off poking around and looking for possible hideouts. But maybe we could do that tomorrow, I've used up way too much magic today, and would like to have some spare tricks to fall back on..."

"Anyway, what the heck, there's nothing to lose from trying once in here. Who knows, maybe he did hide it in this very room!" Morgan shakes the last of the haze away from his mind, making his errant white strands fly around his head even more randomly than before, and chants a simple spell with expert practicality, slowly turning all around like a stalking beast on the prowl when he's done.

OOC: Cast Detect Magic and scan the whole room.

This post has been edited by Lynx Cat: 29 January 2007 - 07:27 PM

[Fugu]

Morgan's spell finds no magic within its range.

The hours begin to pass, unmarked except by the clomping of boots in the hall above every 3 hours. Occasionally, dampened speech echoes from the corridor, too soft to understand--if it's even a language you know.

[Barak]

"I do not enjoy the sensation of having my decisions.. My life.. Taken away from me. This is most disturbing."

After walking around a few times, He-Who-Watches speaks up once more.

"And yet.. At this point.. There has to be a reason they keep us, something they want from us. Mayhaps we better wait and see what it is they want, and go from there."

[Benevolance]

"You have no argument from me. But I don't intend to sit around and find out what they want. I don't trust that Blagarov. I could use a day to rest, though." Glasgow winces as he tests his arm. He sits on the corner of his bed, still prodding the wound questingly.

"Morgan, how close would you have to be to sense the objects? Do you have to see them? Could you detect the artifacts even if they were in, say, a tool case or crate something?"

[Barak]

"If I overlooked something, feel free to enlighten me. But as close as I can figure, we are on a rather large ship, filled with military personnel. Assuming we can overtake escape this room, and overtake the whole crew, which, I'll admit, is far from impossible, do either of you believe you could maneuver the craft with but us three? And.. Would the destination any different than our current one? I see little benefit in taking over at this point."

[Benevolance]

"We are on a cargo ship. Other than the bowl and wand, McCale did not indicate any special significance about this vessel. They did not expect to take us on. I think that the military personnel may be limited. Any port that we reach will only increase the number of soldiers we have to deal with."

"Of course, I could be dead wrong about this. And if I am, I'm certain that those soldiers will be happy to insert the significant comma." Glasgow chuckles at his joke but stops when he sees the blank looks of the others.

"Er, well...I still think we're better off comandeering this ship and searching for the bowl and wand ourselves. Without any interference from Blagarov or his minions."

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 30 January 2007 - 05:35 PM

[Lynx Cat]

"Yeah, those soldiers back there seemed kinda jittery, didn't look like they had much of an upper hand. And like hell if I'm going to just sit here for five days! But I wasn't thinking about comandeering the ship, I was thinking about teleporting out and then prodding around invisible. Then, if we find the artifacts, we'll figure it out from there... and when we get to the port, we can figure out some way to escape. That's as much of a plan as I had anyway. Either way, I'm all for resting and doing whatever it is we do tomorrow."

"And uh, I guess about 60 feet should be close enough, but the problem is with those walls, the metal blocks the magical radiation. I can get through a box with no problem though, unless it's made from some magically-opaque material like lead. So I guess that taking a quick scan at each room should be enough."

"Oh, and I forgot to inform you of a very important thing: the artifacts are not in this room." Morgan winks.

[Benevolance]

"I guess that plan..." his voice wanders off and Glasgow stares at Morgan, dumfounded. "Seriously, you can do all that?" he asks, obviously a little impressed.

[Lynx Cat]

"Ah, well, it's nothing much..." Morgan makes a feeble attempt to wave away the compliment, very obviously enjoying it a lot. "Just some tricks I've learned along the road. In fact, I've just been developing this teleport thing, based on theoretical knowledge I'd been building up all along of course, but I'm just now getting it down pat... but I believe I've already used that invisibility trick, no? That one time when we got all invisible and made illusions of ourselves just in case, remember? That was pretty clever, some nice stuff I come up with sometimes." Morgan's cheeks gain some extra color, his speech gets somewhat faster and louder and his hands start gesturing widely as he talks about his accomplishments. "In fact, there's a lot that magic can do for us in a situation like this... say, I could make the box or whatever fly at my command, or even transform one of us into one of those humans as a disguise. Wouldn't you like that one? Among other things, of course."

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches shrugs.

"While I do not foresee the odds of anything good coming out of it to be very good, I will help in any way I can, of course. It has quickly become painfully obvious that the three of us are anomalies in this time-period, and that we can only count on each other. Therefore, whenever two of us three agree on a course of action, the disagreeing third, in this case myself, should go along anyway. Sadly, I have not yet achieved a high enough state of oneness to have truly useful skills, other than the obvious physical ones."