Nibbled to Death by Ducks
Log Info
- Title: Nibbled to Death by Ducks
- Emitter: Delilah
- Characters: Delilah, Donna, Ashes, Elyanna, Merek
- Place: The Afterlife
- Time: Monday, April 05, 2021, 8:30 PM
- Summary: Ashlee asks Ectra, "What keeps you here?" A question which incenses the Illithid, especially when Elyanna continues questioning her motives and rational. She answers, expressing that she's brought all she could from life and will continue her research into undeath until she succeeds, despite doing so in the antechamber of the Grey Lady who finds all undead to be anathema. The Mounder dismisses the Magus as a lost cause, too fooled by her own intellect and ego to realize her sisyphean task: to keep trying to attain immortality through lichdom, and to accept the simple truth: She died. She's dead. It's over. Her story has ended. The others rebuff her denigration, and Merek offers to assist her, with words that are met with the ultimate Illithid insult. She wouldn't even eat their brains. The usefulness of the slug exhaused, the group calls on Tessa and the Psychopomp returns them to the real world. Which is on fire.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Donna 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A black-haired human girl in black robes. Delilah 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A golden haired human girl in white robes. Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Ashes 5'11" 177 Lb Hobgoblin Female A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face Elyanna 5'11" 153 Lb Half-Orc Female A grim, Arvek-blooded woman in raven feathers. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Magus Ectra Na'garren Illithid Female A octopus humanoid scholar, deceased Tessa Human Female A redheaded Psychopomp, bearer of Bethany's soul, deceased -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Delilah 5'4" 106 Lb Human Female A golden haired human girl in white robes. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
More whats.
More whats. Take more than you share. Witch watch words, according to Nan Mochtrath. Ashlee's tutor. Ashlee's ersatz mother. Ashlee Ciaradh's victim. Ciaradh, which means: Black, dark, the time between the light and the darkness. Sunset. Twilight. A translation very few know. One of the things that drew her to Merek in the first place. He recognized the name Nan Mochtrath gave her.
But not why.
Ashlee was stillborn. Nan Mochtrath was the midwife, helped her mother, helped her conceive. Helped her in her grief. 'These things happen, only the gods know, there there dear, she's in a beter place'. She knew, the witch knew, that the potions she gave the hopeful mother would kill her unborn baby. Mold it, into something the witch could cheat death with, a vessel she could put herself into. A vessel needing certain rituals, certain preparation, that all seemed to be going so well. Except Ashlee watched. Ashlee learned.
And Magus Ectra may have more in common with Nan Mochtrath than she realizes. The Stillborn Ashlee followed orders, never seemed to have many emotions, much of a personality. She listened. Listened to ghosts too. Restless spirits unhappy with Nan Mochtrath's witchery. Spirits that whispered where, and when, and how. And why. At the crucial moment, that most delicate moment when Mochtrath's spirit was moving between bodies, out of the old and into the new, then Ashlee upset the ritual. And It killed Mochtrath. Sunset follows Dawn, but not in the way Dawn imagines.
It's with these eyes that watched her mother-witch-murderer, her tutor-mentor-victim, that Ashlee has been watching here. She's noticed Merek's hidden friend. That's telling. She's noticed the Magus has a lot of things. That's also telling. So many things of life. So many trappings that shouldn't be here. So much showing off. Fiery letters when she writes. A dramatic silver staff. Her towering presence. Books.
A limp.
"I don't think you have any power here that the Feiu of the Tears doesn't allow you."
The Illithid is over by Merek. Ashlee steps up beside the desk, moves around, closer to Ectra, ready to kick her in that weak knee. Hobgoblin rules: exploit weakness. In one swift move, she grabs the silver staff, uses it to sweep the Magus' book off the table, brings the staff down on her knee to snap it. The book doesn't move. The staff doesn't break. This is Ectra's room, her will override. Perhaps Ashes was mistaken. Undeterred, she continues.
"You haven't had visitors in a long time. Your people may know of you but clearly don't care. You surround yourself with your living memories, re-eating the meaningless shit of your life. This is the most fun you've had in years. You're afraid of what comes next. I think you're stuck. I think you can hurt us if we allow it, but I think we can hurt you in return."
Even cowgirls get the blues and run over in stampedes. To say nothing of being nibbled to death by ducks.
Her voice has a power, an emptiness that resonates with this place of unlife. Full of ashes, despair, loss. Where the Fountain of all Tears has endless halls for those who need time to wait and come to terms with themselves. Until they try her patience. With unexpected force and emotion, embodying the realm, Ashes asks a question even her goddess might like to know the answer to.
"What keeps you here?"
Donna had her own suspicions about their 'host,' but they were half-formed, nibbling things that weren't likely to strip away the surface without help. But sometimes, even little fish find joy in seeing a shark swim up to take a bite at the truth.
And so, with Delilah smartly hiding behind her, Donna's sullen features split in a slow, menacing grin. Because given all evidence, it's quite likely that there's blood in the water, now.
Elyanna isn't entirely sure what Ashes's moves are all about at first. For the familiarities of the hobgoblin mind, Ashes is still, in many ways, a bit of enigma to her, but still the Keeper trusts her, particularly within the halls of the Fieu of the Tears. She moves in a gait graceful and unhurried as the Magus moves to plunder the dark places of Merek's mind anew, a pace that redoubles as the Mourner makes her own power play. There are enough things at hand, she's certain her imagination will come to bear should it become necessary.
Ecta extends her hand, palm open; her staff tears itself out of Ashes' grip and flies back into her waiting grasp, as she turns her cold gaze to the hobgblin. "What keeps me here? What keeps me here?" she snarls. "That question was never part of the bargain! My personal affairs are no concern of yours, whichever side of the veil I happen to be on!" She draws herself up, preparing to berate the Mourner with a use for words she hasn't had in, it would seem, over twenty words.
But the problem is, that question was, in fact, part of the bargain. All that was specified, by Ecta herself, was that they would ask questions, and she would answer them in return for a memory. The Mourner has asked... and now she must answer, and a little bit of her bluster ebs away with this realization. It seems, in this place, the act of forming a bargain holds power.
"I am repulsed by death," she states at last. "Not by the deaths of others. I have no sympathy for the suffering and ending of lesser beings. It is not relevant to me if you or your compatriots live or die. I don't care if the pretty one over there loses her head. Where I am from only my own kind hold status, and it is no more immoral to kill one of you for food than you think of it to slaughter a lamb for your supper."
The Illithid draws herself up once more. "In life I abhored the notion that I might, eventually, not exist. I sought lichdom for that reason. Veren was meant to aid me in that goal, but she lacked the proclivities for necromancy, so I trained her for the sake of her other resources. People like you, I would simply have eaten. But it doesn't matter." She gestures towards her surroundings, "This is the closest approximation of my study that I could manage, here. I brought as many of my artifacts as I could across the veil. Achieving lichdom is the conquest of death, and I see no reason why that cannot be performed after death instead of merely before it. So, I toil, and labor, ceaselessly, to achieve my ends. Luckily for you, I do not think you are of any use to me, or I would keep you here."
The Magus steps forwards sharply, lurching towards Ashes and siezing her shoulder with one powerful talon. "Now," she hisses, splaying her tentacles open, "You *will* show me that memory. The one you held back from me before. I have upheld the bargain, now you do the same."
"The Feiu of the Tears allows you this delusion to see how much Eternity it will take for you to come to a basic realization. You are Dead. You will not leave her embrace no matter how much you spit in her face." Ashes still speaks with surety and power. She doesn't spit in Ectra's face, it's not the kind of drama she's after. She grips Ectra's arm. The bargain has power, and the memory must come.
It doesn't mean it comes easily.
Ashes does not want to share this memory. She holds tight to Ectra's arm, the whip, as the Illithid's tentacles crawl all over her head. A wet one flicks in her ear. That beak is open, and a violet tongue smearing over her face. Pushing against Ectra doesn't help. The Illithid is soft, lumpy, the hobgoblin isn't that strong. Enveloped by mollusc and not enjoying.
"You can be nobles in life. You can make the rules in life. You can use your powers, your position over others in life. You can screw people over in life." Emotion crackles through her voice, painful desperation. Throwing out truth like a distraction. It doesn't even sound like the Mourner, "And then you die, and then it ENDs. The Grey Lady judges you. You're no more important or less than anyone else and you get what you've earned."
An anquished last gasp. And then the memories come.
It started with a bottle of wine.
Specifically, it ended with a bottle of wine. That was the start of the end. A younger Merek, by a little. A younger Ashlee, by a lot. He looks much the same, fewer scars, similar hair style, similar clothes. His dark layers, a scarf. She has her skull face tattoo, her body tattoo, and a younger energy. A rounder face. A slightly smaller Chippen pretending to be an ear-bangle. The simple robes of a Vardama acolyte.
Dinner, which Ashlee had prepared, doing her best even though cooking is not her skill. She laid out a nice, romantic table as she envisionned it, white plates, grey tablecloth, dark grey napkins, black candles.
She had met the younger Merek when he was a lecturer, teaching magic for Vardamite acolytes in Blar. His knowledge, his presence, his assurance, attracted her attention. He seemed to appreciate her need for silence, would often nod and stare thoughtfully after she expressed an opinion. She treasured the long silences sitting with him, and he would often take her fishing.
Except, it wasn't in the cards. Literally. Her talents at Augury and fortune telling always raised something dark. His future was troubled; questions about their relationship gave even worse portents. He was doomed, anyone close to him would be dragged down.
The ashen Arvec was not dissuaded by this, though it left an uncertainty that only grew stronger that night as everything went wrong. She had asked him to pick up a certain bottle of wine. A cheap one, not a good brand. It was symbolic in two ways, a quirky name that suggested a pun on Death, and it was the first drink they shared together. Merek, did not bring this wine, choosing instead a fancy brand, one that was a strong Red instead of a White. While Red is Ashlee's preferred, it has a negative connotation in Arvek Nar society and isn't used during romantic meals because of it. Merek didn't like the meal, and with a flourish replaced it using a spell to create food and drink. Conversation was awkward. Ashlee slowly realized she had misinterpreted many of his mannerisms as interest. His long thoughtful stares weren't necessarily related to anything she said, and a few times, he missed things she was saying. He spoke about returning to Alexandria, and it didn't seem to include her.
Ash, even with her social niavete, realized the error of this first crush. It compounded badly with her own insecurities and doubts. He's an upstanding human scholar; she's a monster among monsters that fits no where. It wasn't real, it wouldn't work.
Their breakup, barely registered for the Seer. He didn't see it coming, if he realized she thought they had a relationship at all, and Ashlee completely failed to explain her feelings. He returned to Alexandria. She joined the Blar Army to forget.
She shudders as this memory is shared, holding onto Ectra, holding herself up.
Well, Merek was a student in artifice, in magic. It was often that his attention was far away from the world, but this memory brings to light things that he did not know about himself. While he watches what transpires, the man seems to consider. You see, when you're in the spirit world, waiting, you get clarity. It seems to him that he watches, then eventually shifts that attention to his coming back to Alexandria, when he decided to seek new knowledge, and to find a way to protect people.
Eventually, he does look to Ashlee, and he looks then to the Illithid, "I apologize, I did not give it a lot of thought. I was always... Trying to be there for the world, and I did not do a lot for those that were closest to me." The man nods a bit, then he watches the woman, to see what she might say about the Illithid.
So much for having a use for her back when she was more indulgent. Elyanna cants her head a little at the exploration of delving into lichdom, flicking a glance at Ashlee, then back toward where Tessa was when last the Keeper saw her. The Mourner makes her case and pays the bill, and a scene plays out between younger versions of she and the Seer that the Keeper is not sure what to do about, but she opts to build on the full Hob's case after a considered look between them.
"So, you would attain lichdom... because you cannot bear the fact that our time is meant to end." she speculates,"With no other ambition, save to tuck away like a mole in the shadows, or perhaps carve some thralldom to call your own." framing the future as goads rather than questions.
There is a shake of her head, though her eyes remain on the Magus, "No shadow is proof to every eye, neither is there a hand that can hold the leash indefinately, Magus. What time you gained would be spent worrying over revolt, which always takes root eventually, or avoiding detection by greater powers. The Queen of Winter, perhaps." here, Elyanna's hand gains a brief flutter, but she continues, "The deathly shadow over Dragonier. Perhaps some dragon slumbering within the stones."
"Or, simply consider this, " The red woman waves her hand about the chamber, "Undeath is anathema to the Fieu of the Tears, and yet, here you tarry within the halls where she holds Dominion... reading what you have been -allowed- to keep... for -twenty- -years-."
"Ecta Na'garren, your song is sung... move forward with dignity."
And Ashlee adds her Worst Day to the pile, and Donna learns more things she doesn't really believe she has the right to know. But the brawler holds her counsel for the moment, and when the scene fades back into memory, Donna narrows her eyes. By this point, she has only one more thing to say to the Magus, and she seems to think it better to be the last word heard of their group.
The Magus gives Ashes a rough push at the end of her memory, sending the Mourner sprawling across the floor, as the Illithid recoils from the group. Behind her, her quill pen writes into the book, searing the words to the page. Ecta's tentacles writhe as she spits, looking back and forth between the various parties.
"I hate you all," she seethes. "I hate *YOU* especially," she adds, pointing down at Ashes. "So I'm going to tell you this. Don't even attempt to go to my Manse. You cannot find it, and even if you did, you cannot get inside it. The door is warded with runes that will kill you. The side passage is warded with runes that will kill you. Every room is protected with magic that will burn you to death or strangle the life from your lungs or melt flesh from bone, and even if that does not finish you, my undead minions who still toil their will, and if THEY do not become the death of you, then the rest of my kind will." She sucks in a deep breath, "And if, somehow, you brave all of this and survive, there is nothing there that is useful to your cause. Nothing! NOTHING! Do you hear me?"
The Magus turns her back, stalking towards her book with the heavy thump of her staff on the floor. "Move forward? Dignity?! There is no dignity in surrender! None. NONE! Give up and surrender, you say? Just lay down and accept defeat, because of the domain I happen to be in? Tell me, Torturer," she spits, turning to look back at Elyanna, "How many of your victims gave up just because they were in your grasp? And how many escaped?" She snorts, and turns away once more. "Keep it to yourself, I don't care. But YOU." She turns to jab a finger towards Ashes.
"You, I desire to live a long, long life. Look at yourself. You are alone, but cannot see the strength in self-reliance. You are alone, and you will always be alone. You are nothing and will matter to nobody. You saved the blond strumpet's head? She should offer herself to your service in gratitude. Instead, when this is over, if her cranium remains atop her spine she will leave you and never seek your company again, mark my words, *girl*. *COW*."
As Delilah sputters indignantly, The Illithid returns to her book, flipping hurriedly to the next page, then the next, and the next. "Now," she snarls, "Get out. Get out. Get out! Get out!!"
"GET. OUT."
Merek looks like he's about to speak to Ashlee, and notices then that the Illithid is not happy. Then she's berrating the man's friend. While he thinks about it, he steps forward. "You really are all alone, that's the thing. You know, I once spoke to the servants of the gods. What makes you think you won't exist? Even they confirm that you will, if you choose. You could still choose," he then takes a look to everyone else, "Isn't that right?" The man then will shift his stance, "I don't like what you are. All the same, I want you to find a way to salvation in this place." Then, he will let the other folk speak, to gain information, to learn. Perhaps to try to save the woman. "And if you don't want to accept that, one of us will eventually be coming back to make sure you do."
Ashlee is thrown back, falls, sprawled to the floor. She stays there, supporting herself on her hands, staring up at the Illithid as she hurls verbal vitriol. Her words hit hard, some of them are even true. Some, just confusing. The Mourner has never desired a long life, even if the desire to live burns weakly in her. She is happy alone, but also, never truly is, with Chippen, Carbuncle, Minnie, she has friends. She has person friends also, and no desire for them to serve her.
Her prediction, well that remains to be seen.
She stares, as Merek moves to defend her, as Elyanna attempts to get through with the same arguments, and receives the same rebuffs. She sees Magus Ectra for what she is. A slug, a snail, something that lives in the darkness and the slime, given too much intelligence and far too much ego, but ultimately unable to accept reality. Ultimately, that she is the accusation she throws out the most. A Coward.
And alone.
"I know, you had to choose, Merek," Ashlee says, not looking up, "and I knew you would choose saving the world over your own happiness. And mine. It wasn't meant to be. I'm sorry."
She pushes herself to stand, stares at the Illithid. She has nothing more to say.
"Dignity, yes, Magus. Step into the beyond bearing true pride, rather than, cowering in Her antechamber." Elyanna answers firmly, "-That- is the way of a slave, keeping her head down, staying out of the notice of her Mistress."
The Keeper turns then and points to Delilah, " I have seen her helpless, and not,only -sneer- at Death, but dare it, and stand at disadvantage to stave off the deaths of others." Then the sister, " And her, and I would see such spine in so accomplished a being as you, were,you capable of finding it in yourself."
"Our bargain is met, and we depart. Stride or cower." And she looks to,herd her fellows,to the exit.
Zazzlesplat.
Finally, Donna moves away from Delilah to support the Mourner as she gets to her feet. "Yeah, that's what I thought," the brawler growls, her voice a dry black hole of cares for this shade. "C'mon, Ash. I don't think we're gonna get anything else outta this one; she wants to spend the next hundred years tryin' to dig a hole through the Sandsea, that's her lookout."
Lifting her head, the dark twin calls to the tower around them. "Oi, Tessa! We're finished here! Looks like she's done bein' useful!"
"There really wasn't much you could have done for her," Tessa comments as she appears from... somewhere. How do Psychopomps do that? Well... a question for another time, most likely. "I brought you to her for your benefit, with perhaps... a little bit of hope that you might've helped her, but not much expectation of it." She bobs her head, "If you all have no further business here, then I suggest it is time for you to return to your lives. You are, none of you, among the dead, and you are ultimately without company, here. Even you," she smiles at Delilah, "Who was expected to walk among us by now. But, know that though people will say you 'cheated death', you didn't. Nobody cheats death. Death is patient, and if you've earned a little more time, then death will be ready for you when your time does come."
Delilah finally moves out from behind Donna, and clasps her hands behind her back. "Well it felt pretty close," she admits. "Particularly when the axe cut the back of my neck. I thought that was it, right then. I'm glad it wasn't." She pauses, blushing softly. "No offense, I mean."
"Not at all," Tessa replies with a soft laugh. "You made it here to help Bethany anyway. So. Time to go back, but... before you do," she approaches Merek, "I have a message for my brother, and I'd like you to deliver it. You've met him, you know him as Guard Karlin, and I am very proud of him. He was expected here too, but you changed that; so... Just tell him to go to Mom and Dad's old place, and look under the floorboards in the basement. He'll..." she shrugs lightly. "He'll know what to do from there."
Merek looks to the Illthid, while he thinks about it. "You know, I want her to be saved," he notes to Tessa, nodding a bit. "Well, I know what it's like, anyway." The man shifts all of his attention then to the team, "I will... Keep what I saw here a secret. Just know, none of what I saw changes what I think of any of you. I would give all to protect any one of you. We've all faced a trial greater than many would."
With that he would listen to Tessa, "Ah, so then..." The man looks a little bit amazed by all of that. "I will, I have learned an important lesson as a Seer. No matter what we see, there are many paths along the way. When it's time to wait and enter Eluna's Palace, I will be there." He then offers a comforting hand to Tessa's shoulder, "I will promise you, that no matter what it takes, I will do all I can to deliver that message for you to him." Then he smiles to the party, "Now, I think it's about time we all get to relax a little and wear something nice. I kinda miss that longcoat of mine."
"Ok." Ashlee says, producing the silver branch with the five leaves, even if one seems darker than another. She reaches out her hands, the one with the silver branch towards Donna, the one with the whip towards Elyanna. She looks over at the red hobkin, a quiet glance, a caution, "Just my hand."
The Mourner is uncertain what the tentacle monstrosity will become in the real world, and certain she doesn't want the Keeper touching it. Tucking it under her armpit or in her mouth is right out.
She nods, nuding her chin towards Delilah and Donna, then Merek and Elyanna. "Take hold."
When they do, she fixes Tessa with a long gaze. Her words were heard, and, there is nothing more to say. Except, "We're ready."
The mollusc above it's station receives no more attention. Ashes rarely bids farwell to the living, and any well-wishing would be wasted. Ectra is left to her simulated shell of a life and her sisyphean struggle. Enlightenment will come. The Magus will learn her error, if it take eternity.
And it likely will.
"Bitch never met a fuckin' goose, if she had she wouldn't ever sneer," Donna mutters sourly as she reaches out to place her hand over Ash's, the branch held between two fingers. "I'm glad t'hear he got out all right, an' he'll definitely get his message," she says, looking up at Tessa and nodding. "Good t'meetcha, too... An', see ya when we see ya."
The Keeper looks to the Seer on his words, her expression coached,neutral though doubt troubles her faith in the sentiment.
She expects her sin has scoured them all of any positive thought, and little expects to warrant the ones she'd thus far enjoyed.
On her... friend's word, she takes the ashen wrist in her gradp, then extwnds a hand for the Seer. She looks to Tessa a moment and gives a nod, then awaits the shift to quickened lands.
Delilah mirrors everyone else, taking hold of a hand; her sister's hand, naturally, with the other one reaching out to clasp with Elyanna. "You're a good person," she whispers to the Keeper, and gives her a warm smile.
Tessa, meanwhile, reaches out to tap the top of the silver branch with her fingertip. "It has been a long while, since I've talked with the living," she muses. "And it has been a pleasure, with all of you. Truly, I am grateful for your help with Bethany, all of you; that woman never deserved, not needed, Torment." She glances towards Ashes, "Be careful with that. I advise you to destroy it as soon as you no longer need it, but that, of course... will be up to you."
As if sensing Tessa's words, the tentacle lash recoils, and writhes angrily, though it can't quite bring the suckers to bear on anything.
"Don't worry," Tessa adds, smiling to Donna. "I'll see you eventually. And it's rare, even for twins, to cross over together... but I'd believe that you two might just manage it."
With those words, a soft glow envelopes each member of the party; it is warm, life afternoon sun after a hard day's work. Tessa and the library fade away, and the travellers find themselves enveloped by mist once more; and as the real word comes into focus, the path amongst the flowers slowly returns to view. But, strangely, it comes accompanied by a pungent, sharp smell that offends the nose.
It is the smell of smoke.
Mahuikaa's field of flowers is burning.
