westwhere | the channeling

the channeling

THE CHANNELING

Image source.

WEALTH WHISPERS

Assignment: the Merchant fears that Matthias, alleged father of the undead Brotherhood, might be the ‘merchant’ who was due to receive dark water-infused grains by sea from the Hand. Chasing information, the Merchant routes party members towards the docks-side underworld district of Tibras, in the outskirts of Ephes. The Hand keeps grain warehouses nearby.

In Tibras, short and decayed houses are like parasitic growths toppling each other, plaster peels falling into rivulets of bloodshed. Tension thrives. Petrified, natives overwhelmingly number beggars, pleasure workers, crude bounty hunters and thieves, who look to cut throats or purse strings. Occasional bodies drift by the docks.

■ Just outside of Tibras is the abode of the merchants’ syndicate — a ring of warehouses, private clubs and houses of currency. Merchants here are protected via steep fees and travel freely. Inside the syndicate house, doorways are barred by inextinguishable living fire — which you can cross unharmed, if you rearrange the runes marked N, W, S, E on a nearby wall in a cardinal-point formation. You can also pretend to be a servant, a merchant or quality inspector to get to the Hand warehouses. Ask a clue.

Alternatively, the Merchant forewarns that a notable guest will join the syndicate for three nights: Captain Maximilian Hawk of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company, which deals in magical artefacts. Hold him at knifepoint, seduce him, do your worst for knowledge!

■ By the entrance to Tibras is the shop of Apollonius, noted collector of supernatural artefacts and information broker. Crafty and sly, he will cooperate, in exchange for a pair of ‘eyes’ from the ghost Tykhe, who haunts the nearby anonymous burial grounds. Come midnight, Tykhe’s spirit — whose sight was gouged — appears and picks out and bewitches a pair of marbles, buttons or stones to act as her ‘eyes.’ With them in hand, she searches the graveyard for her dead sister, Cassandra. You can steal the orbs, or she’ll give them freely, if you escort her from tomb to tomb to reunite with the mute ghost of Cassandra. Return to Apollonius.

■ Deeper within Tibras is a gambling nest of sailors who were cursed by a scorned sea witch to assume the appearance of sea creatures. Led by the giant octopus Crassus, they charge protection fees from commercial merchant ships and even intimidate pirates, gleaning information from sailors and recovering drowned bodies. This illustrious group adores games of chance — as long as you can cover your losses.

You can decide or RNG how many tries it takes for your character to win — submit a finished thread to get a question! The higher the stakes, the better the information.

— a scantly informed junior goldfish throws dice. Lose, and you must share a highly embarrassing secret.

— a moderately informed catfish, offering Baccarat. Lose, and he steals your good luck for 24 hours.

— a composed, well-informed whale plays roulette. Lose, and you must share one of your most precious memories.

— a highly-knowledgeable shark, Aurelius Longus, plays a mean hand of poker. Lose, and he asks blood or a pledge to save his life one day.

Image source.

THE FLOORS

Senate leader Caius Justus exits his seclusion, ending weeks of prayer to convey the message of Ephes’ divine patron, the Chained God of chaos. And he says in a public speech:

Friends, Ephesians, countrymen…

”Friends, Ephesians, countrymen, lend me your ears. I come to speak for the Chained Father, not to praise him. The victory men reap lives after them; but cowardice is often buried with their bones. So let it be with Ephes. The noble Senate tells you, the Chained Father wishes only Ephes’ destruction. If it were so, it is a grievous fault, and grievously has the Father answered for it. Here, under leave of Messalina and the Senate – for Messalina is an honourable speaker; so they are all, all honourable speakers – come I to speak of the Chained Father’s wishes. He was my maker, faithful and just to us: but Messalina says, turn away from him. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. He has brought many territories under the heel of Ephes. In his name did the Hand rise: did this in the Chained Father seem unworthy? When now you weep asking empire, the Chained Father answers: tells you to be made of sterner stuff. Yet Messalina says the Father is unworthy. And Messalina is an honourable speaker. You all did see that I withdrew to his temple, where he spoke to me: Ephes, seize your path alone — was that unworthy? Yet Messalina says to turn away from him. And sure, Messalina is an honourable speak. I speak not to disprove what Messalina spoke, but here I am to speak what I do know: you are all children of Chaos, not without cause. What cause withholds you, then, to use the Hand yourselves? O, ambition! You have fled to brutish citadels. And men have lost their courage. Bear with me: my heart is in the temple, there with the Chained God, and I must pause and beg the Senate to vote against Messalina, til it comes back to me. ”

Returning to public life, Caius Justus advises the Senate to refuse Messalina’s proposal, but defers to a vote. Citing recent civil unrest, he imposes citadel-wide 10 p.m. curfews, bans congregations of more than eight people in the streets and sends the Hand to confiscate any visible weapons and to quiet or pre-empt unrest. Hand members — forced to present in large numbers — appear erratic, prone to violent outbursts and to taking out their anger on civilians. Hand leader Narula is excessively smug.

Newscasters are careful with their words, speeches decrying Messalina abound, and senators are‘escorted’ by Hand delegations, also for their protection. Caius Justus announces he will run again for Senate leadership — to begrudged murmurs among Senators, given his previous pledge to retire.

Assignment: lure Senators toward the position that the party supports. After Caius Justus’ return:

■ 51 Senators back Caius Justus to refuse Messalina’s proposal.

■ Maximus Faustus convinces 53 Senators to accept Messalina’s proposal

■ Caelius Silvanus persuades 47 Senators to vote to postpone a decision on Messalina’s proposal for another season.

Following the party’s previous interventions, Senators are open to considering Messalina’s cause. Many are skittish, fearing their careers or lives will end with disobeying Caius Justus. Optionally, party members previously assigned a political role might receive threats from Caius Justus’ supporters.

■ Persuade, bribe, threaten or blackmail a minor Senator to switch votes. Perhaps you can offer coin or rally supporters in the marketplace for their next election, or heal their donkey or get rid of that pesky boy mooning after their daughter. Or maybe prove their corruption streak, or place a polite knife at their throats. Hold the whole Senate floor hostage, if you want, of blockade Senators from entering the Senate on voting day!

■ Ask for a RNGed Senator if you want or submit threads of swaying votes. A final tally will be taken on 19 November

Image source.

INCENSE

Priests of the Chained God whisper that the god shows signs of awakening to trigger an apocalypse. Chained and warded twelve times to prevent the end of the world, the Chained God allegedly rests in the Halls of the Sleeper, in the underground belly of his main temple in Ephes. Above ground, the temple is silent, rife with milling priests, hummed prayers and cloying hallucinogenic incense that encourages lethargy. Access is unrestricted, but monitored.

To progress downstairs, you may need to convince guards that you are one of the groups of ferociously devout pilgrim worshippers, or a priest. Below, you feel overcome by creeping, paralysing dread.

■ You are haunted by sinister, saccharine voices murmuring intrusive thoughts only you hear, diminishing your worth and paranoically asking if your companion means you harm. You are more irritable and prone to violence.

■ The halls increasingly resemble narrow subterranean corridors with limited and overheated air reserves. You reach locked stone gates, covered in loose chains and crudely carved with the inscription, the Sleeper awakes. Instructions state the Chained God demands sacrifice and proof of chaos.

■ To enter the Sleeper’s Hall, instructions say, you must commit an act of betrayal, by: drawing your companion’s blood and smearing it over the inscription (lean into the corruption!), which prevents them from entering the halls with you; or chaining them to the door with the gate shackles, condemning them to watch as you enter; or pushing your companion away, verbally eviscerating or attacking them until they flee. With player approval, your character could get a sense of what theirs is emotionally or physically vulnerable to, then exploit it. Acts of betrayal cannot be faked.

■ The Sleeper’s Hall is narrow, nearly spherical and lit by thin rivers of flowing magma that cross cracked floors. Amid swelter, you hear the periodic gulps and quakes of stone trembling around you. The supernaturally sensitive feel the presence of great, if constrained power.

■ The black water previously associated with the undead also gushes from rifts in the ground. It has a cold, sinister aura.

■ Search the room for clues — and leave urgently, before corruption consumes you.

■ Towards the middle of the room is a large, nebulously shaped creature, fully fettered and covered in magical wards, chains and blood-painted runes. Anyone in the Chained God’s presence may feel overcome by emotional or physical agony, claustrophobia and bloodlust — but the divinity only speaks with the RNG winner.

Image source.

NOTES:

■ Some players have asked about potentially ~~stabbing~~ ousting Caius Justus and Narula in a coup — everyone can plot and participate in that, and a plotting post will go up on 16 November.

■ NPC inbox, if you need anyone!

■ QUESTIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It's strange, but matter how many times he's dragged people into (or out of) trouble using the phrase "no time to explain", he still isn't comfortable when people do it to him.

But she is right, there isn't any time at all between her grabbing him and then the intense feeling of pressure, and then, suddenly, they're on the roof. It takes a split second, almost as long as it does to readjust his balance.]

What the bloody hell just happened?

[ Is he impressed? Despite the shock he finds that he is, actually, incredibly impressed. He'd still like an answer, but being able to just appear at the top of buildings could be very, very useful. Maybe that's what assassins do, in her world. Or maybe they have something even better. ]

[He gets a gold star for not throwing up, but she still shushes him curtly before dragging him down to kneel and most importantly duck.]

We're on the roof, not invisible, Jacob. Actually - [That's a good point. She puts out a quick Notice-Me-Not spell on both of them - still won't turn them invisible, but at least if they keep quiet, the guards down on street level won't ever look up.

Now that's sorted, she turns to him, pushing her palla off her head since it was honestly getting in the way.] I told you, magic. I'm a witch. You're clearly a criminal of some type - thief? Regardless, introductions made, now how do we get inside from the roof?"

[ He doesn't tend to throw up much. A lifetime of jumping off tall rooftops and stabbing people through the neck gives you a strong stomach.

Anyway, she's about to explain in hopefully more detail than "magic" when she's clearly distracted, and waves her stick around some more. Again, he has no idea what she's done or how she's done it, but he's giving up on fully understanding. ]

I'm not a thief, thank you. This way.

[ He is familiar enough with warehouses from home, so he leads her silently away from the point they arrived on, towards the far end of the building, making the balancing act look easy. And yes, if he peers over the edge there's a little wooden overhang, and a primative crane to pull the barrels to a second floor. Which has a wide, unglazed opening.]

That's where we go in.

[ That sounds like the kind of thing a thief would say. ] Neither am I. [ Case in point: she's only really stolen the Hufflepuff Cup from Gringotts, a handful of books from Ke-Waicai, a handful of skulls from a loathsome little merchant in Ke-Waihu (to give proper burial rights to them!), a handful of books from Serthica, a handful of tea leaves and coffee beans from the train, clothes from every location, and on one occasion mining equipment.

But she's not a thief, either.

Oh, Merlin, have I become a thief?!

She follows Jacob, who has started moving, shaking off that momentary epiphany in favour of breaking and entering. The height doesn't bother her as much as she expected it to - perhaps after riding on the back of dragons, broomsticks and phoenixes, she has been if not cured of her fear of heights then come to the conclusion that she's afraid of the lack of control when she flies. When she just tiptoes across the rooftops at night? It turns out, not so terrible.

She peers over the edge with him, then leans back again to not topple over the edge, out of balance.]

Some dashing feat of acrobatics, no doubt? I could've just unlocked a door for us, you know.

That's what I like to hear. Peanuts are a better business. Less likely to have you executed.

[It's a murmur, a secondary focus of his attention as he shifts his sight from the mundane, everything going grey as his Eagle Vision takes over. Guards are highlighted in red patrolling through rows of barrels, and yes, there are more stationed on the doors on the ground floor. But what he's looking for is an office. He can see it, outlined in gold. Any documents, any proof, will be there.]

Doors are guarded. Opening one will have the guards on us straight away. Best to be up here- they don't expect people coming in from the roof.

[And as for "acrobatics", it's not that showy. He nods towards the crane and goes up to it, bringing back the length of rope that had previously dangled over the edge. He wraps it around his waist, after all, if this goes wrong, he'd rather it not be tied to her.]

All aboard please, first stop Entryhatchton. Next stop: Office-on-Thames.

[She has full trust that her spell will keep them hidden enough from any guards below, but she still stands a good few steps away from the edge of the rooftop, because the truth is that she detests being up here. What if she falls? What if she slips and falls and can't Apparate herself to a solid surface immediately?

And then there's Jacob, moving easily along the tiles and fetching a rope from atop a crane, her eyebrows raising. Convenient.

She takes a step closer to the edge and reaches for him, with a mutter under her breath of:] I could've unlocked the door but okay.

[Clearly he knows what he's doing. She sucks in a breath, braces herself, and holds onto his shoulders.] Alright, let's - lets go.

[ Jacob has no fear of being seen- if he has to fight guards, he will do, but he'd rather she wasn't in the middle of it, just in case. After all, he doesn't know if she can fight, or how she can fight, with this "magic" as an unknown, he can't predict how it might go.

Which is another reason he doesn't want to go through the doors. Sure she can unlock doors, but then they have the patrols to deal with who are based around the doors, and he doesn't want to deal with that.

Just like she doesn't like to be on the roof. He can tell, even though she's really putting a brave face on it. But there's a stiffness to her limbs and a way her gaze goes to the edge of the roof, as if she's at risk of falling over it by standing still. But she's not spent most of her life up on rooftops. Apart from the whole witch aspect of her life, she's probably quite normal. Or maybe that is normal where she is from.

Either way, he tries not to make her worry more about the fact they're on a roof.]

That's the spirit. You're safe.

[He'll make sure of that. Once she's holding on, and he has an arm around her, he lets them slowly descend the ten or so feet down to the platform and then gestures to get against the wall by the opening in the wall meant for the barrels and bundles to pass through.]

Should be a pretty clear route through to the office, and hopefully that's where the evidence you need will be.

[She absolutely wouldn't have climbed down that rope on her own, so she is grateful for the assistance. Is she also holding on a little bit too tightly because she's looked down and seen the fall that would await if she - if they - should slip? Yes. But she'd be very grateful if they could completely ignore that moment of weakness, thanks.

With the ground - some sort of ground, albeit a narrow ledge of it - beneath her feet, Hermione lets him go and glues herself to the wall without needing further instruction. You're safe.

Ha. Hasn't been in years, but thanks.]

You're very stealthy - do you want to check ahead if the route is clear or...?

It's part of the job description.

[After all, an assassin who can't be stealthy when it's called for is a dead assassin.

He's far too familiar with the concept of not being safe, he's not been safe ever, all things considered. Not just because anything and everything wants to kill you if you're a Victorian (from the water up, it seems) but because of what he is, what his parents were.

But here and now, he has to use what he is to keep them safe, keep her from slipping off the ledge, and keep the guards away from them. Eagle Vision helps with that: he can see the guards on their patrol, currently facing away and proceeding down the rows of barrels. Up on this floor, there are only four, working in pairs. Right now, one is facing away from them heading down the room, but is close. The other is walking towards them but is at the other end of the dark warehouse.

They can do this. It's pretty easy, in comparison to some of the jobs he's done. Hermione is the unknown factor, and he keeps a hand just shy of her, to catch her if she stumbles. The ledge is, after all, not wide enough to comfortably linger on. Best move. ]

It's clear enough. We go in, quickly and quietly, to that first row of barrels. Duck down there, we check again on those two sets of guards. Try not to make any sound, alright?

[She can do that. She can do that very well.] Alright. [She aims a quick Cushioning Spell on her shoes, to muffle any sounds they may make against floorboards, and give herself an added bonus of stealth. Sneaking in - the old school way - is more subtle than Apparating on the other side of the office would be.

She is going to follow Jacob's lead here, because he seems to know what what the fuck he's doing. It's certainly very educational - perhaps she can learn a few things! You truly never know when you might need to break into a heavily-guarded bank again.

And they're off, moving. Hermione keeps herself crouched but swift, trying to use the surrounding crates and boxes to hide behind, pulling her palla up again to keep her hair out of the way of trouble. It's an intense couple of seconds, maybe ten at most, and then she is ducking behind that first row of barrels, heart pounding, and waiting for him to check on the guards.]

[ He nods, giving her a silent nudge of approval. She can do this, he knows she can, and he's right there if it goes tits up. Luckily, it does not. Sure, she's clearly not trained since she was six years old, but that doesn't mean she's bad at it. In fact, he could well believe she'd done something similar before. That, or she's got a healthy dose of sense. Evie would like her.

Why he cares what Evie thinks about his friends, he doesn't know. He never has before.

Hermione gets to the spot without being seen, just behind him and he grins at her, mouthing "very good" before he peers around. The guards have moved, and the ones facing away have gone deeper into the warehouse, he can still hear them talking, even if it is muffled. The others are still coming their way, but it's too dim for them to easily be seen. But they only have a short window to move to the other side before those guards get within view of them.

He points to show her where he intends to go, and then with silent footfalls crosses the aisle. It's impressive, considering the quality of the Ephian boots that they don't creak or squeak, but he's had a lot of practice.

But then something changes, and suddenly there's a noise, a barrel falling from its previously secure perch. It's not him- and a quick glance proves it isn't Hermione, but both sets of guards call out at the commotion, and Jacob is still several metres from cover. ]

[Of all the perfect times for Hermione Granger to swear, this one's in the top ten. She is half-way to following behind Jacob when the barrel falls, and she hears the guards' voices coming closer.

She mouths a quick 'shit' in Jacob's direction, eyes wide, and thinks fast. Misdirection. She needs something else in the opposite direction to distract the guards, to make them head there. Pressed between a rock and a hard place, she summons the first thing that comes to mind.

It turns out whispering expecto patronum is just as effective as shouting it, as long as the intentions and the happy memories are there. (Hugging Ron and Harry hello after a summer apart, throwing food at Wrathion and Anduin in a cave and laughing despite tense circumstances, seeing her parents in the enchanted mirror from Ke-Waihu, tasting her first proper English breakfast tea on board the massive train. Happy memories.)

A blueish, transparent otter pours out of the tip of her wand, and she flicks it towards the direction of the guards. Her Patronus floats as if it's swimming in water, squirming out from between barrels and scuttling between the legs of said guards, in the opposite direction of where Hermione is.

It works. She doesn't give herself a chance to celebrate, just takes advantage of the fact that all four guards are running after the otter, and rushes over to join Jacob, shoving him quickly in the direction of the office.] Go. Go go go.

[ Thank fuck she does shove him, because he's watching the strange shimmering otter bound down the dark warehouse, illuminating its path in the same wane light. He's never seen anything like it, and while the moving from one place to another thing was impressive, it wasn't a creature made of light.

But he does move as she pushes him, quickly putting his head back in the game and instead of simply going to the next point of cover, he uses the distraction to get them all the way to the little room build in the middle of the warehouse. The door is locked, but he pulls a blade from his belt and slides it up through the jam and the door itself, forcing the latch and then pushes the door open. ]

In we go!

[And then he's shutting the door behind them, the guards none the wiser about it. But just to make sure they aren't disturbed, he pulls the chair from under the desk and sets it under the handle, making sure it's not so easy for anyone to come in after them.]

How long does that last?

[Her heart is still racing, but at least they're inside the office now.] As long as I want it to - I can't tell you if it'll keep them distracted forever though, good call with the - the chair.

[She's going to pause here for five seconds, and catch her breath.] Alright, start looking for ledgers or paperwork.

Good call with the... weasel? Ferret?

[He's kidding. He knows what otters are. But to give her a moment of peace, letting her catch her breath and take a moment, he pulls open the desk draws, much easier without the chair in the way. There's paper and wax tablets, but all seem loose leaves. He flicks through them anyway, just to see if anything could be useful.]

Is now a good time to discuss my fee?

Otter. [Get it right. And she has caught her breath, so now joins him in the search - only to pause and give him a Look.] I wasn't aware you come at a price.

[Can she see the shit-eating grin? He's trying to hide it, although not to any great extent, as he discards pieces of useless paper.] Really? Looked like a weasel to me.

[He hums, as if this was evident.]

You picked me up on the street for a night of fun and didn't realise I'd charge you? This is Ephes.

[ She cannot see the shit-eating grin, so she immediately hisses with a correction: ] Weasels don't swim - [ And now she can see the grin, and rolls her eyes. ] You know what? Beside the point.

[ More papers get picked up, skimmed over, and then set back down, even as the innuendo of his words sinks in. So too does the blush on her cheeks. ]

You're a very dishonest prostitute, you should've told me about your price upfront.

They don't? Didn't know that. You're a font of knowledge. Not sure if it's useful knowledge, at least in this instance.

[ It's a lovely shade of rose. Even if he's going to pretend he didn't notice her doing that. ]

If I'm honest, I'm dishonest most of the time. But how about you pay me in peanuts.

[ A very dry concession: ] You can have all of the peanuts, Jacob.

[ He's been promoted from Mr Frye to Jacob, so there you go. Progress. Growth.

In all of her adamantly avoiding looking at him, she notes a stack of papers that looks official. Hermione knows her quality parchment here, for sure. ] Shh - hold on. Just saw saw a name.

[ She reaches for them and skims the papers. And there it is, Matthias the merchant, named on the same paper as Caius Justus. ]

Interesting. We'd better take this with us - some of the people with an in on the Senate should read it.

Even the honey-roasted ones with the flakey sea salt on?

[Because those are the best, and they all know it. Almost as good as her calling him "Jacob" and not Mr Frye, which is the worst thing anyone has ever called him, and he's been called some pretty unpleasant things before.

But nuts and names aside, he seems her shift and something change in her, in her energy and posture, in the focus of her eyes. He lets the heap of documents drop back down into the draw and turns his attention to what she's reading. There's the names, clear as the nose on your face, and he gives a nod.]

Tuck that somewhere safe then and let's get out of here. Can you disappear and re-appear us from inside? Or do we do it the old-fashioned way?

Ye - you like those? [What a compliment, she'll make sure to provide. Who knew that the way to turn Hermione Granger into a professional cook would be by giving her a cover story?

But with the paperwork, she rolls it all up and shoves it into her bottomless bag, hanging at the side of her hip and not at all looking as though it should fit that.

Magic.]

I can Apparate us outside where we started, since I know the location now.

[It's her turn to offer her hand, amused eyebrow raised. All aboard.]

Next stop, dingy alleyway?

Are you trying to tell me there are people who don't? They're the best ones you do. [Although the ones with the little kick of spice come in close second, they remind him of something Henry cooked for them.

He lets her put away the documents, doing a quick snoop for anything else useful or incriminating, but the rest looks normal as far as he can tell, and so he turns back to her, once she's squirrelled everything away. ]

I'm ready when you are. Do you have to see, or have been to a place before to magic there?

[He supposes that makes sense, as far as anything about magic does in his limited understanding. People here throw fireballs or pop from one place to another, but there doesn't seem to be any reason for how it works. Not that he's heard yet anyway.

He steps up to take her hand, or at least, offer her his arm. He's forward enough to take her hand. Not with nice girls anyway. ]

And then to the senate?

[She takes his arm - it's not a matter of forwardness, you see, but the fact that physical contact is needed for Side-Along. Two in one short period of time, and hopefully Jacob's stomach contents stay contained inside him. It's remarkable how well some of the people travelling with her adapt to her brand of magic, despite not being wizards themselves.

First thing first:] Hold on.

[They fold on themselves and re-appear outside the warehouse, in the side alley they began this whole B&E from. Here it's quiet and less likely that the guards will overhear, and she can answer his questions:] I have to have been there or simply be able to see the place - and we've just been here, so that worked. Now - we should split up. If you know the people on our side who have a hand in the Senate - Wrathion, maybe, or Wrath? - share this information with them. I'm planning to keep digging.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

the channeling

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject