Renew the Pact: Time of our Lives, part 6
Log Info
- Title: Renew the Pact: Time of our Lives, part 6
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Paenitia, Aryia, Seyardu, Fallon, Lyme
- Place: Goldcoast of Veyshan, Tashraan
- Time: Friday, July 02, 2021, 8:30 PM
- Summary: Farland and Akoniril confer outside the auction, while the entourage participates in confusion. According to the Priestess of Lies, the past is changing, it's rippling into the future. Farland, decides to consult the followers of Navos, drawing derision and scorn from Akoniril. The God of Time keeps hitting his snooze alarm, he'll be no help. Ignoring her, Farland and entourage go to the Temple, briefly contemplate the golden sands of time, and go inside to meet a friend of his. A friend who dismisses the group's concern and only reluctantly investigates their claims. He sees something that shocks him, lies about it, and is called out by Lyme and the loconut, Paenitia. Shaevin reveals a part of the past has gone missing.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-= Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. Fallon 5'6" 145 Lb Half-Elf Male A short hooded man. Lyme 7'2" 435 Lb Orc Butch Black-skinned oruch of suitable stature -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Farland Friendly Gnome Male A sorcerer and a Resurrectionist, and a gentleman. Akorinil Belvade Shadow Elf Female Diplomatic Delegate, Priestess of Taara, Aristocrat Shaevin Dawn Elf Male A priest of Navos, a skeptic and young -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Story So far
At the auction, the moment Farland has been waiting for is at hand. Vuvet's famous text, 'You're Enchanted to Meet Me', is on the docket. Bidding commences, and after some shenanigans, he wins.
The auction is halted while the crowd calms down and frenemies Farland and Akoniril go outside. Akoniril explains, things are altering before their very eyes, everyone remembers due to their exposure to an Animus shard at some point. Whether an altered object remains an item of import is also unclear.
It's impossible to tell if it was one of the items that was already bought. Or not.
"Well, it might have -said- that, but I didn't go near it," Fallon clarifies. "Everyone who did -died-." Regardless, the details don't seem to matter. "Then Seyardu has the right idea, doesn't she? We can't let the other bidders leave, lest they have the item in their possession."
"If the original item was important, and it change, why it not still important now?" Paenitia asks, looking around, "How the relevance move? Wait, this I think unimportant. It is the buying and selling of things still."
She turns to face Farland, "We go back in and look around the building, or we go change then look around the city?"
Lyme pauses. "Well, if the time changed, then the relative importance of things would change too." He nods. "We're here. We should get to searching." A pause. "How the hell will we know the magical signature, though?"
"I have *no* clue," says Farland, "but that's okay! We'll ask Navos. Well, Navos and his priests..."
Akorinil sighs. Loudly.
Farland adds, "...! but you are right. We need to keep people here if we can..."
And Now
Aryia rubs the bridge of her nose before gesturing, "So what now?" <Handspeech>
Paenitia watches Aryia's hands through her mask, then nods. She sounds dejected, which matches her Crying Woman's mask well, "The costume, he is broken, I will not be effective distraction with it."
"So, we go in now?"
"You can ask your Navosians, fat lot of good it'll do you," says Akorinil, shaking her head.
"I'll pursue ... other options. Have a *lovely* day."
And with that, the Shadow Elf whirls on her heel and exits. Seems she has own agenda, but then, who's surprised about that?
Farland sighs. "Well, that makes things more difficult. And irritating. Come on, the temple of Navos is our next step."
Fallon has no idea of how to keep tabs on a bunch of nobles and their valuables, and he is reluctant to try. "I guess we leave them and hope for the best," he says with a sigh.
Aryia didn't seem to be pleased about going to a temple, but she sighs and gestures for Farland to lead the way. Any reprieve to get out of this heat would be a welcome one.
Paenitia wheels around, starts marching in the other direction, carrying her boots, "Ok! We change or go as we are?"
"... no time to change just yet. Let's get to the Temple," replies Farland. "Much as I'd like to keep an eye on these folks, the temple is more immediately important. If time itself is an issue here..."
He clears his throat.
Soon, you're moving through Tashraan again, and in your finery, hard get a glance more than you did when you were dressed as commoners. Such wealth is, itself, somewhat common here.
The mute pugilist pouts. Getting out of the getup sounds grand, but apparently she was stuck looking like an over dolled noble. She pops by the auction tent and whistles at the rainbow Seyardu to get their and attention. Aryia beckons at them to get going and follows the Farland.
Fallon follows Farland. No further commentary here.
The auction has a ways to go before it's complete anyway, it seems, now that it's settling back down. In fact, you might even suspect that the auctioneers are glad to see you go.
Still, the Temple of Navos is not all that far away. Perhaps a forty-five minute walk from this location to another in a city the size of Tashraan. There's a lot of crowd dodging, of course, but it is a large city so that's only natural.
Finally, you approach a stone structure with a large hourglass set out front. That'd be the Time God's, yes. The building itself doesn't appear fanciful, but for the large hourglass that captures the light just so, making the sand grains glint just lightly in a shimmering effect.
"They use a little bit of gold dust in the sand," he explains, "Damn thing has been broken open seven times by thieves only to find out that it's heavily magiced."
With a whistle and beckon the silver sith-makar found her attention taken, and with a final glance back to the auction, she departed with the group.
Fallon eyes the large hourglass as Farland reveals they used gold dust. "What a shame," is his droll retort.
Paenita manages to maneuver near Farland, "Why the Priestess of Taara think this a waste effort?"
By this point, Aryia was dying. Her dress was ruined by sweat and whatever water she stole along the way, tears in arm length gloves so some of her skin could breathe, and was dragging her feet like a lost wanderer of the desert, seeking the relief of a mirage in the distance.
The wide hat tilts up at the temple, a sigh following after. She couldn't drink an hourglass...
"Because assuredly Taara can not be to blame for killing the God of Magic," remarks Farland to Paenitia with a sigh. "Navos' role has changed, and she's implying that the God of Time isn't doing his job and is therefore useless with regards to the problem. I'm sure she'd love to let the Shadow Sorceress into the time stream too, rewrite things to better fit the stories she wants to spin. She is the Goddess of many things, but she is the Goddess of self-deception most of all."
He shakes his head, slowly, and heads towards the doors.
"Ah," The Off-White Crumbled Rook says, following Farland into the temple. She does spare a moment to stare at the hourglass. Her costume is surprisingly light and airy compared to the armour she typically wears. A breeze blows through it, and without the water-filled boots she's much more mobile.
The remaining fish were released to a convenient drain, hopefully to find their way out to sea.
Her dress is still a hoop skirt that's nearly five feet wide, which does make doors a challenge and causes her to be a tripping hazard.
"Then hopefully, we keep her from making the stories!"
The silver sith-makar did not have too much trouble keeping up with everyone. At the very least, the abundance of oversized hats made it difficult to lose them all in a crowd. She waits off to the side of the group once they reach the building, investigating the large hourglass.
"If that is the case, then why would they bother putting the gold dust in it in the first place. It sounds more trouble than it is worth." They muse. "Next time, I will think more about how to help you deal with the weather, Aryia. I am not used to others struggling so much with heat."
"It sounds like there is much at foot, and next time, more information about what we are getting in to would be greatly appreciated. Though perhaps whatever you told us we were looking for would have been confused by whatever magic was going on there."
"B-c-s- - -t - -z-d," Aryia huffs with hisses and pops, all but dragging herself into the building and uncaring about the history lesson.
Fallon wrinkles his nose. "Everything about this place values ostentatious over practicality. I'm not surprised they needed to put gold in the sand." As for the gods beefing, he offered no thoughts of his own. "We're going to find out if she's right, I suppose."
"She's not," says Farland, confidentially.
Still, the door swings open at his approach and he marches inside.
The interior of the temple is adorned with clocks. All manner of clocks, actually, and hourglasses. Ancient kulthian watches, a functional water clock, a sun dial, ticking clocks from the world over in all manner of designs.
Yes, this values a show more than anything else.
Sitting across the way from the doorway, in front of the water clock, is a young-looking elven man. Who else to worship the god of time but someone who has oodles of it?
He looks over his shoulder at your arrival and then smiles.
"Farland! It has been a VERY long time! What fate brings you here this day?"
"Can the platitudes, Shaevin. There's trouble."
He turns towards you, nods, "Tell the Platitude Spewer what you saw."
Aryia, overdressed for the weather, finds a nice corner to collapse into. She rips off the gloves and just basks there for the time being. It may not be a cool place, but it was out of the sun, and fully shaded. She lets the talking people do the talking.
Fallon stares back at Farland when he turns to them to provide an explanation to his smiley friend, then he turns to the elf. "A sword was turned into a decanter," he replies. Yes, he's the best person for this job.
"Uff! Uh. Someone shove the tower through!" Paenitia is having difficulty with her dress, the wide rim of it has caught on a door. Still, she pulls with the determination of a small dog, or a Lucht Siuil!
Farland has made introductions, Fallon has primed the gun, time to set it off. "We see time change before our eyes. Yes. The sword, become a decanter. A set of scrolls, is now the wand."
"The Priestess of Lies explain it as the past changing, and the Aura of Animus surrounding us, protect us from being fooled."
She waves a boot vigorously around, "All these clocks, any of them act funny not so long ago?"
"...no," is what Shaevin says with a smile.
He squints at Fallon. A sword was a decanter? What?
He looks at Farland with an expression that just says 'this is what you bring me? Jail for a thousand years!'.
"Oh, yes. Well. The priestess of lies tells you so, it *must* be time and not a thief."
Seyardu entered the building, taking her hat off to fit through the doors, putting it back on once they were inside. "I am not sure what I should be saying, as it makes no sense to begin with. The one who just spoke is correct, most likely, as is Paenitia. We did not see a sword become a decanter though, but we did see a scroll up for auction become a wand when the auction was over, and most there did not see anything strange about it. It was always a wand, to them, much as the decanter was never a sword, to us."
The sith-makar added. "Though the problem remains that we still do not know what we were even here to purchase in the first place, as we were never given a proper explanation. So it seems that complicates matters."
"Can a thief tinker with memory to this extent? You can use illusions to disguise something, but everyone remembers we were there to bid on scrolls, not a wand," Fallon insists, then jerks his thumb to Farland. "Well, everyone except this one, who told us about the scrolls before they were suddenly a wand."
Farland clears his throat.
"She's telling the truth. These young people have been in the presence of a Shard of Animus -- well, one of them has."
A nod towards Fallon, thereafter. Who has apparently been in the presence of a bit of a dead god, even if he doesn't realize it. Close enough, anyway.
Shaevin sort of rolls his eyes again, "Sure, next you'll tell me that you're going to bring him back."
"I amn," replies Farland, dryly, tapping the pin of the Resurrectionists upon his collar.
"I know," replies Shaevin, wearily. "Such things are not meant for mortal hands."
"And yet, the world is in dire straights without him. Now, you can tell us if this is what's going on. You know that. Ask the Wisdom of your god."
"Very well," replies Shaevin, "Everyone, please, have a seat. I need a few minutes to prepare."
There is nowhere to sit, really.
Fallon pauses, glancing over his immediate surroundings... then just sits indian-style on the floor. He asked.
Aryia finds a seat. On the floor. In the corner. After she peels herself off of it and leaves a sweaty outline of herself where she laid. She is fanning herself with the oversized hat, her face flushed red as she waits even more.
Paenitia finally frees herself from the door. Some tearing might have been involved. It's okay, the parapet dress remains insurmountable, just like the problems facing the Dark Lucht. She approaches Shaevin, then stumbles as she's about to open her mouth.
Her mouth remains hidden by her Crying Woman's mask.
Farland and Shaevin have their exchange, and her witty observation requires some rework. She calls after the young elf, "The priestess of Lies say Navos will be useless, so bring the results or she will not be lying this time!"
Seyardu nods, and leaves to one of the walls, electing not to sit.
The side of the rainbow mess of a dress was pulled out, taking their attention, but it fell back. And on one of the multitude of clocks adorning the room, a bright green feather was speared on one of the hands.
So the silverscale moved away from the wall, and sat down instead.
It takes some time, yes.
The Navosian seats himself and places a bowl full of sand on the ground in front of him. He studies it and begins to chant a mantra. Clearly, this is something he's done countless times. There's a sense of ease and familairty to it.
It's also *astoundingly boring* to observe.
Lyme squats down on his haunches in a deep squat, and waits.
Paenitia also sits down and vanishes into her dress, the stiff sides bowing upwards as the middle sinks, and the canopy over her bends down, effectively hiding her. She can be heard tapping within it, presumably seated on the ground.
"Call me when it time to lower the drawbridge."
Like a little igloo, or hut.
Fallon continues to sit and watch.
GAME: Paenitia rolls sense motive: (20)+10: 30 GAME: Seyardu rolls sense motive: (5)+3: 8 GAME: Fallon rolls sense motive: (7)+3: 10 GAME: Lyme rolls sense motive: (19)+3: 22 GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (4)+10: 14
There is a subte stiffening in his posture, almost unnoticeable.
There's a long pause for a moment before he sits up.
"Hm. Interesting," he finally says, thoughtfully, "but the river of time is safe. Fate is intact. If you saw what you think you saw, then the Fates are intended to go the way they are intended to go. Perhaps there was a reason, but I don't think we need be concerned about it overly." He seems skeptical, of course.
Fallon blinks at the man's answer. "You don't think we should be concerned about 'fate' deciding to make swords into decanters on a whim?" Would you like it if -your- sword suddenly turned into a decanter!?
Aryia just sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. This was all very confusing to the uneducated mul'neissa.
Adrift in a sea of fabric, Paentia's distractions are minimized. Once she's able to push enough of the dress out of the way, Shaevin is all she can see. She watches intently, behind her defensive battlements and concealing mask. She inhales suddenly, noticing something, and is completely surprised when he reveals his findings.
"No!" The princess explodes to her feet in the off-white crumbly tower. All three foot nothing, with her hand, and held boot, dramatically thrust in the young elf's direction. "You see the thing that shock you. You do not understand, you pretend it is nothing. You do not follow the Lying Goddess, do not ape her. Tell the wisdom that was impart."
"I think the ways do not go the ways they should, my friend. Do not add the fool to the liar."
Lyme's head snaps up about the same time Paenitia hops up. He rises, slowly, unfolding to his true height. "What did you see, friend?"
Farland's frown deepens considerably. "What aren't you telling us?" after the words of the adventurers reach him.
The red haired elf sighs, feeling caught out appropriately. "It's something I need to confirm with greater work, that's all, and speculating now would be unwise."
"I am surrounded by several Alexandrian adventurers, warriors known for their reckless disregard for caution and thoughtful approaches. Don't make me ask them to do something reckless to your hourglass outside or something."
"Oh, please. That thing gets smashed all the time."
"IT WILL BE SMASHED HARDER, SHAE. This is serious."
"I'm aware, but I've an obligation to --"
"You've an obligation to tell us what's going on, as you wouldn't even have something to 'confirm' if we hadn't showed up."
"... /fine/," replies the elf, venom creeping into his tone. "Know that I'll answer, and then we're *done*, Farland. I'll owe you no longer."
He lets out a breath.
"Somehow, a piece of the past has gone missing."
<OOC> Aryia says, "thank you pae"
<OOC> Paenitia hugs