As the Crow Flies

From Tenebrae
Revision as of 04:45, 13 December 2021 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "The village of Nibiru is almost utterly destroyed. No one knows what started the fire, and in truth the people who are shifting through the ashes of their homes do not seem ov...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigation Jump to search

The village of Nibiru is almost utterly destroyed. No one knows what started the fire, and in truth the people who are shifting through the ashes of their homes do not seem overly concerned with what caused the fire and are more concerned with trying to salvage as much as they can. Which is generally speaking why you're here. To help pick up the pieces, to make temporary shelter for those that have lost their homes, and to provide assistance where it's necessary.

MAC-B1G was directed to assist, and so the heavy construct has arrived to assist. Its faceplate pans and scans what remains of the village structures to assess for stability and salvage. It's primary purpose here may be to aid in picking up the pieces in quite the literal sense.

Aimarra doesn't mind this sort of job, really. The Gileadian priests talk about this sort of thing as being part of the service to the Light, and while she has never put much stock in that, there's no denying that it's honest pay for honest work, and it's simpler and less risky work than much of the stuff she has undertaken for the Guild of late.

True that she is the wrong person to ask for comfort or healing, but erecting temporary shelter she can do. So it is that she has thrown herself into that particular task with a will, cutting and hewing logs, finding stones to fit, locating vines and other things that may be used as rope, lashing things together, chinking holes.

Aryia, true to her typical manners of tackling problems head on, treats this job just as similarly. Though, not with fists this time around. She's used to physical labor, and this was right up her alley. She arrives, jacket buckled shut and gloves donned. Ready for heavy lifting and hauling.

GAME: Paenitia rolls ride+6: (4)+8+6: 18

"Hola! I am Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Harana, Knight of the Pillar and Paladina of Tarien. Also the adventurer of Alexandria here to help and show we are not the incompetent goofs." The Red Knight astride her Ivory Steed announces herself. She is resplendent in crimson armour, her mount, Ramirez, has an irritated look and a bag of supplies behind her on the saddle.

"Ramirez! I dismount." She leaps out of the saddle as her hippogryph extends a wing. She expertly slides down it to land on her feet. She does not land on her face.

"Who in charge and what are the things that need the doing?" The half-height knight looks around, completely obscured by armour and visor-mask.

Paenitia's arrival draws more than one eye, but the eyes are weary. No one moves to help her. Well, the children of the village slowly but surely start to gravitate toward Ramirez. At first they're shy. Ashen things covered in soot, but they quickly forget the fire and beg Paenitia to allow them to pet her mount. She has about twenty of them surrounding her when all is said and done.

If you offer aid, there's plenty of people that need it. Even though no one died in the fire, there's much that needs salvaging from the burned homes if it can be done. Not even mentioning the temporary housing which needs to be built.

As you work, the silence of the people - excepting the excited children - is almost eerie. Thus everyone turns to look up when a massive murder flies overhead. Crows, lifting off from the forest to fly loudly with cacophonous voices overhead.

Thus, everyone notices when they start falling out of the sky to the ground.

GAME: Paenitia rolls knowledge/local: (4)+11: 15
GAME: Aimarra rolls knowledge/nature: (8)+11: 19

The little lucht Knight is more than happy to share Ramirez with the children, letting them pat him, even helping them up into the saddle one at a time. Ramirez adores the attention. He preens, stands proudly and majestic, and even will crouch low to the ground so they have an easier time.

Paenitia is aware how recovery is often more than the physical, that a morale boost is needed after such a shock, losing everything. She does her best to provide it. She even has extra masks of the Smiling Man to hand out so the kids can put on a happy face.

It's helpful to hide one's expressions, like now, when the crows flying overhead suddenly drop out of the sky. "Children, a thing is happen. You need to take the shelter that still exists."

GAME: Aimarra rolls survival: (18)+14: 32


Aryia is busy dragging out a support beam from a building, getting access to a room that was cut off for a group of unfortunate souls. The silence is well wanted by the mute. Her inability so speak meshed nicely here. She waves to those that she knew of as they arrive, but was focused on the task at hand.

Though, her attention goes skyward at the birds. And her body slides over to overhead cover as it starts raining birds and birds.

MAC-B1G is in the midst of shifting debris and collating reusable materials when the corvid migration and subsequent showers occur. It settles the current piece in its manipulators to scan the birds and then the sky above. "Warning," it announces to all. "Unknown threat probable."

Aimarra, halfway to lashing a set of poles down with a vine, looks up sharply at the flock of birds, her head snapping sharply up as the first one falls. And then, they _all_ do. Her eyes narrow, and she finishes lashing the set of poles down, ties it off _hard_, and slides down the pole without hesitation, jumping off to the dirt below.

"There's nothing natural about that," she calls out, perhaps unnecessarily, and begins to pace heel-to-toe towards the village center. "They came from the south -" she murmurs, "started to fall _here_." As she talks, she is picking her way among the corpses of dead birds, entirely focused, towards the middle of the village. "And all were dead by the time they reached the center. Too swift. What is in this village."

Luckily most people are able to get to some kind of shelter, and only one gentleman takes a bird to the head as he's running for a semi-standing building. The children mostly take cover around Ramirez, and those that won't fit huddle around Paenita as if the halfling can provide safety. No one, it seems was injured. Yet the death of the birds has deepened the silence of those that live here, adding a layer of dispair to the hardship of having lost their homes.

GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (10)+13: 23
GAME: Paenitia rolls knowledge/military theory: (15)+10: 25

Ramirez has wide wings, which he spread as shelter, and Paenitia likewise has a wing in the form of a shield and also held high. Safety of a sorts. "Do not fear. I will stand in the way. You are safe."

Her attention turns towards Aimarra, nods at her analysis, "This village, he is the very lucky one. The good harvest every year, the much good luck for residents, the business run well. No sick. No sad."

"Many come here, for the many good things." She adds, "Except the fire, that would be not. If there the good luck charm, I do not know it."

She examines the immediate area. No building has been left untouched, none are fully standing, a few have a bit of solidity, here and there. "This is not defensible, not like this. I need the thought. The safe place first for the children. Tell me if something come, and I must mount up."

"Identify cause," MAC vocalizes in request, statement of intent, or both. It observes Aimarra's notation of the perceived epicenter of the effect and scans the area while approaching the same.

Aryia shifts uncomfortably at Aimarra's assessment, her looking up to the sky. "Foul magics?" she signs slowly, unsure if any of the party could understand her. She rifles out her pockets and pulls on a half face mask, covering her nose and mouth with the black cloth. Her log: if birds died in the air, there's something in the air. <Handspeech>

'Its enemy is inside, Paenitia.' While Paenitia talks, Aimarra has paced over to the well, and looks it up and down, pacing around it, peering intently. She looks up in time to see Aryia's signals, and raises both hands to answer back, a clear affirmative to whatever Aryia said. "Most likely, yes." She then switches back to the common tongue, pointing out scorch marks around the well. 'These run deep. This is where the fire began, and this is where the crows began to die. Something is wrong, and I am not an expert in foul magic.' <handspeech>

MAC-B1G's focus shifts to the well to scan it. While one of its secondary purposes is anti-magical, its optics are not currently calibrated to directly detect mana or related energy signatures. It leans over further in attempt to peer down the well, itself. "Hypotheses: foul magic fell into water-siphoning pit; unwelcome mana-empowered entity descended into water-siphoning pit to avoid fire..."

The little lucht examines the nearby area, checking building, examining the survivors. She makes another nod, her wide-brimmed hat-helm bobbing up and down. "Okay, okay. We keep them back from there. Aha!"

"I have the plan." Paenitia also has the arsenal of the Mad Dogs on Ramirez's saddle. She turns, addressing the villagers, adults and children alike, "There is no good defense here, but the best is there, that wall by the tents. All, gather there. Adults, circle the children. Take these."

She pulls pole-arms off her saddle. Small, they're still effective weapons, she hands them out, "Make the formation. Stand the both sides of Ramirez, this far out, he will guard."

"Ramirez! Guard!" She orders, and her hippogryph moves to position as she takes her sword, shield, warhammer. She faces the villagers, a half-height knight with a grinning mask, "I go check it out with the others."

Rope, she also grabs rope.

"Are you sure that we need weapons? What's happening?" One of the townsfolk finally pipes up. A mother of two who looks awkward handling the weapon she's been given. She holds it steady though. Ready to protect her children. They agree though, obeying Paenita's orders and gathering nearly everyone by the tents.

Everyone save fifteen hold outs who refuse to leave their homes. "There's nothing bad going on here. It's just some stupid birds. I'm not living in some tent, or helping to protect some kids that aren't even MINE." Grumps one man.

Aryia is somewhat relieved that she could be understood, just in case something bad cropped up. Which tends to happen. Often.

She lingers in passing, not wanting to look down a hole when people are theorizing that foul-magic went into the well and living things just up and died. "Do... you want me to put some lights in the hole to see if there is something down there?" she asks, using that suggestion instead of someone going down there in person to inspect.

The mute blinks as Paenitia starts to give out weapons to arm a small army. She squints at the grumpy man, but bites her metaphorical tongue. <Handspeech>

'And if whatever made the fire and killed the birds really is in your well?' Aimarra's rejoinder to the old man is more than a little sharp. 'Sit tight, because if that well isn't safe, you can forget about rebuilding.' She pointedly turns her back on him and inspects the well again, then straightens and signals to the mul. "Yes, please. I do not have the means." <handspeech>

"I do not know, I go find out." Paenitia answers the mother, a reassuring tone in her voice, "You are safer in the group, with the weapons and Ramirez, if something come around us, than to run alone into the woods. We will be come back, hold the ground and protect the children. The brave Ramirez, he will not break."

That said, she turns and looks up at her trusty mount. He lowers a head that's almost as large as she is, to nuzzle her with his beak. The little Red Knight strokes beside his crown, as she whispers to him, "Do not lose a one."

She turns, she marches with great, clanking steps for her size. "I am willing to go first. I the smallest and will drop down the well the best, and can make much the noise. I need the light."

Aryia nods at Aimarra, her focusing for a moment. But it falters some at Paenitia offering herself to go. She makes a little nervous laugh, voiceless, before reattempting the mul'neissian magics. Her eyes shine a little brighter, a faint flicker of silver lines appearing around the sockets before the vanish. And four, shimmery, milky orbs of soft light appear floating above her. She scoops them all up, them unceremoniously dumps them into the well, her peering in.

Down, down, down the lights go, but of the bottom there is no sign. Aryia's spell reaches its limit, but there's no sign of the bottom yet. Instead, a horde of rats starts clamoring up out of the well, as if spooked by the light. Racing up the sides of the well and toward you quickly!

"What is the squeaking? Is that me?" Paenitia asks, she has a short stride and heavy armour. She doesn't move fast, "No, it the well thing. Rats? They the normal rats?"

A thought strikes, this is a very prosperous village, "Are they the fat rats? Maybe they not willing to fight, the line of torches will scare them to run away when the emerge."

"If they are the big rats, watch for swarm and the biting." She's experienced both.

Aryia blinks as she sees the rats coming. Remembering how useless she was against a bunch of wasps, she looks around for something to block the hole, but comes up short. "Best I can do is be a big bright light, but no fire," she quickly signs, her anxiety quickly rising. <Handspeech>

The squeaking is far from lost on Aimarra, and when it gets closer, she immediately reaches for a flask on her hip, attached carefully to her belt in a padded leather pouch. "Stand clear!" she calls. "Perhaps they will turn aside!" She waits, then, the flask full of a strange yellow liquid that glints in the light, that the adventurers may well recognize as alchemist's fire.

"Acknowledged," the contruct confirms as it takes a single step back from the well. It does not classify rodents of usual size as a threat, even in excessive quantities, but stands with the others roughly between the well and the villagers.

The rats continue to surge up the side of the well. Moving inexorably upwards. They move quite quickly, but there's also a lot of space between you and them. Less now.

The little lucht recognizes the alchemical fire and mentally adds it to the list of things she should always have around. In the meantime, she'll make do with a regular fire. Rushing, in as much as she can, to some nearby ruins she grabs some wood that is not completely consumed and drags it back. She gets more embers, more wood, makes a fire.

It is situated between the villagers and the well, and near the well, in the hopes that light and fire will be frightening enough to make the rodents run the other way. Or burn them as they run past. As fire-walls go, it's not much protection, but this is not the fight the Red Knight is skilled at, nor the task she came equipped to assist with, which was disaster mitigation.

She has a suggestion, "A tent, could be the large bag, if they are not so big they instantly chew through it. It maybe last long enough to drag them away."

"Clarification requested," MAC intones, "Vermin to be contained inside watering pit or diverted after egress?" It was directed to step back, implying one, but the inflammable object implies pre-emptive attack.

Aryia backs away some at seeing the alchemist's fire, her looking over to see what Paenitia had in mind. She jogs around to help with the fire, the mute fast on her feet. She nods at the idea, but rubs her neck.

Well, that's one way for sure. The mute runs over and grabs the tent cloth, her rushing back to the well and tossing it over the hole. Using some rope, she loops it around the well and ties the edges of the tarp down taut. Being a sailor had its perks.

MAC is afforded one big 'I have no idea' shrug from the mute mul'neissa.

Almost at once, the tarp dimples in a thousand places as the rats run headlong into it, then into each other, in a great muffled squeaking and chittering. Then, it dimples again, pulled in in places, and the unmistakable sound of fabric being chewed grows louder and louder. Now, Aimarra makes her move, hurling the alchemist's life not quite to the center of the tarp, where its fall might be cushioned, but hard enough that the flash is sure to shatter against stone, releasing the greasy fire that will set the tarp alight.

GAME: Aimarra used a Alchemist's Fire.

The rats frantically chew at the tarp, and the first few catch fire and the flames burn the tarp quickly. The flaming rats die quickly but there's a surprising number of them and not all of them do. Instead they spill out of the well and turn away from the flames that Paenitia created. Running away from the danger and off into the village. After a few moments... they're gone.

Paenitia was standing behind her fire, shield and warhammer ready in a battle crouch, expecting the worse. It's unpleasant watching, and smelling the rats burn, but she feels a slight touch of relief as the survivors turn away from the villagers and vanish into the ruins.

"The hope is, that the end of it. We want see what hide at the bottom now?" There's still trepidation in her voice, but also her determination. She listens, for squeaking, or other sounds of the depths.

GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (20)+5: 25

MAC-B1G observes the horde of rodents as they are briefly trapped, many perish, and then they scamper off to disperse. After a time, its faceplate rotates back towards its fellow taskforce units. "Vermin disbanded," it informs, then pans further to the well. "Corrupted mana also dissolved?" It does not yet possess enough information to correlate the vacating vermin with the corvid corpses.

Aryia scrabbles back as the fire is let loose, her readying a defense with the red knight. The rats come, combust, and then... flee into the village?

She's surprised that worked. "Good throw."

The mute sighs, and shrugs at Paenitia. She points to the well, makes a walking motion with two fingers, then makes it drop off a hand along with a loooooong whistle that doesn't stop. "It's a long drop."

She shrugs at MAC. The mute had no idea. <Handspeech>

Aimarra, too, watches the rats run off, then looks to the others. "What else may be down there?"

"There the cavern down there, below the well." The Red Knight says as she approaches the well. She's barely able to see over the wall of it on armoured tip-toe. "I not see the bottom, but the hole, she gets wider. The water, she is very deep still. I do not see the bottom."

She nods to Aryia's drop-sign and whistle, "I have the 50' rope. That not enough. The hole too big to climb, to small to fly. We have the more rope?"

Paenitia suddenly shouts into the well, "Hola the deeps! You want come up, explain fire the village? It the long fall I do not want to do."

GAME: Paenitia rolls diplomacy: (3)+9: 12

As you stand there considering whether to go down or not, it seems that one of those that decided not to go defend the tent area has come up behind you. "Rope? We have a lot of that. It's one of the few things that survived the fire; Gat's storeroom survived the flames." He motions toward one of the buildings in question. "Should be enough to get you down there, though I wouldn't suggest it."

"This unit does not possess additional tensile material to aid descent," the construct helpfully informs. When Paenitia calls down the well, it infers that she has a direct target in sight. Leaning over the well, it directs, "Ascend and exit the hydration pit for inquisition." When a local denizen informs of additional tensile material, it reorients.

"Retrieving additional materials for descent..." it acknowledges as it tromps towards the structure indicated.

Aryia blinks, then gives a light sigh. Into the death hole they go. She follows after MAC to aid with getting rope.

GAME: Aimarra rolls strength: (17)+2: 19
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls strength: (18)+5: 23
GAME: Paenitia rolls strength: (10)+1: 11
GAME: Aryia rolls strength: (11)+3: 14

Everyone makes it safely down the well and into the water below. Aimarra and Mac assist the other two in their descent before heading down themselves and making their way to the shore. It is exceedingly dark in the cavern. With only the very faint light from the hole high above you offering light. It is oddly beautiful down here though, and you're surprised to find crystalline deposits on the shore. Shimmering and shining at you.

Aimarra, no stranger to rough and tumble work such as this, scales down the rope as easily as she had scaled down the pole, then turns to steady the rope for others, but when she finally walks to the shore, her eyes take in the crystalline deposits with a blink of surprise, but they don't linger there for long. Instead, they move out to the center of the river, and she points. "Look." There's a faint light at the center of the river that runs down the middle of the cavern.

Aryia softly sighs as she sees water. Girding herself, she gets in, and heads to shore easily. She was a bit busy cleaning her face off to notice anything, her glancing to Aimarra, then off to where she was indicating. A white brow raises. "That's... weird." <Handspeech>

Paenitia is assisted down, and to shore. Lowered, she's not strong enough to do it on her own. Aimarra and MAC-B1G help tremendously. This is good. Her armour is heavy, and drowning inside it, in the dark, is an unpleasantness she would avoid. She clambers ashore, leaking from all the seams, her hair slicked and stuck to her shell.

The Red Knight occupies herself, draining water out of her helm, finally looking down the river.

"Well, we walk into the light now?" She peers forward, "Do you see your grandparents waving?"

MAC-B1G's optics do not require ambient light to function at minimum levels. Given that it less swims and more tromps along the bottom to the shore, it notes nothing unusual until emerging. This is initially limited to the geological formations, but expands to the light indicated by Aimarra. "Source of illumination indeterminate..." It plods along the bank, also draining water from the seams between plates as it scans between the water light and the crystals.

Aimarra, too, is dripping, water streaming from beneath her breastplate and her hair, but that seems to be the least of her worries. "I've no idea," she says honestly. "Clearly there's something going on down there, but I couldn't tell you if it's a trap or not."

Aryia frowns at the light, her hands on her hips as water drips from her chin and hair. "I can... block the light out. But I don't think it'd be good for most of you all if I did that." <Handspeech>

"Well, let go check it out." Paenitia suggests, squelching a little with each step. "Remember, this the lucky town. Maybe it the lucky... burrowing... fey things. We should sneak up, the very quiet swim through the water."

It's very difficult to tell sometimes, with her every grinning mask and deadpan delivery, if she's being serious or making a protracted joke.

The secret is, she's always joking.

"The current not strong but the water over my head. I don't suppose anyone bring the boat." She asks.

"I wish the fish-goblin from the Tarrace was here. This seem her thing." The dark lucht laments.

MAC-B1G continues its path along the river bank, scanning as it tromps. It is neither swimming nor especially silent.

"Too bad," Aimarra says unsympathetically. "She's not here, so we'll have to make do with what we've got." She rifles around in her pack briefly, frowning. "Don't tell me I didn't bring any torches." Said in a self-deprecating fashion.

And then Paenitia starts to wander down the bank. "You - don't think there's anything suspicious about that light there, at all?"


Aryia sighs, the pool shark would be great right about now. She sees MAC tromp off, her glancing between Aimarra and the light in the water. She takes a half step towards MAC. "It is suspicious. I'll look at it," she signs to Aimarra. "And I have light if need be."

The mute sighs, rubs at her face, then steps into the water and dunks her head under to look at the light. <Handspeech>

GAME:  Aryia rolls perception: (13)+24: 37

Paenitia follows, adjusting the set of her shield and keeping her warhammer handy. Her head turns, she glances to Aryia, "Do you have more of the lights?"

"Yes. It the very suspicious light." She answers Aimarra, "and it not come to us. So we have to go to it, or see if there the other things down here, or climb back up."

The war-machine's random walking draws her gaze, "Or whatever the Mac Bee One Gee is do." She shrugs, an unusual heaviness in her voice, "The 'make do' has become tiring, to never have the device disabler, or the knowledgable or magical one. You see the space for Ramirez to fly in here? I am already the useless joke."

"Then maybe you should expand your skills, Paenitia. Learning something new is never bad." Aimarra turns away, towards Aryia. "You see better than I do in the dark. I'll hold your rope." She seems entirely focused on the mul riught now, ignoring the others.

Aryia pops back up, her lightly gasping for air. She looks a bit confused. "There's... a sword? I think? In the water?" she signs, unsure to Aimarra.

To address Paenitia, she gives a thumbs up, and holds up one finger. "Yes, one more time." <Handspeech>

"She says "one more time," Aimarra translates absently, watching the mul intently as she comes up. She's still standing on the bank, her hair dripping. "A sword in the water? Can you bring it out?"

The Red Knight does not respond, seemingly ignoring Aimarra as much as she is being ignored. She doesn't understand the Mul'niessa's hand signs, although the single finger made a certain amount of sense. The translation helps.

"Traditionally, the knight get the sword from the water but I do not wish to be the king, so if Aryia wish to grab, that is fine." Paenitia states.


Aryia pinches her brows, and rubs her arm. "... I can. I don't like holding sharp things, but I can." Steeling herself and retightening the rope, she dives in to get a closer look. <Handspeech>

MAC-B1G continues its tromping for a time towards the light, though stops after some distance and reverses its course to scan the ground again. This doubles the detail in its scans as well as avoiding excess separation of the task force. As it returns to the vicinity of the others, it evaluates one of the nearby crystal formations.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (3)+24: 27

As Aryia swims toward the sword, she will feel a sudden pulse of water that is far stronger than the current that is very mild. Suddenly a woman of water forms above the sword, her expression hard to read due to her being made of water. She says something, sounding like water rushing against the shore, and then again. "YOU ARE NOT WORTHY. NONE OF YOU ARE. TURN BACK." Her voice is deep and resonate.

GAME: MAC-B1G rolls perception: (14)+14: 28

Aimarra holds the ropes steadily in both hands, waiting for a tug to say that Aria is ready to come up - and then the voice resonates, deep and full, through the cavern. "Who is, and are you responsible for the fire in the village?" she calls back.

That's it! There's the watery woman.

"I am not worthy?" The Red Knight shouts, clanking forward, "I am Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Haranna, Knight of the Pillar and Paladina of Tarien. I have laid low the rapidly aging undead, I have met the Fey of the Maze, I have cleared the bandits, chased the cursed ghosts into the woods, sought the artifacts of old and travel in time loop."

She continues forward, "I have taken the vows to protect the helpless, to strike the root of corruption, free the people from oppressors, taken the blows and blood for them."

"If you think I am not worthy, then you fight only me and test the metal." Her voice is child-like and high-pitched, and firm, so firm. "I come to aid the village that burn, not to engage in the battle, but if you start the fight or the fire, I will finish."

GAME: Paenitia rolls intimidate: (12)+13: 25

Aryia is buffed by the pulse of water, but she manages to twist herself to not get off kilter. She blinks under the water, her vision a bit warbled from the waters at be. And there was... a talking sword? She knew only like, one other other talking sword. Despite the others giving their case, she doesn't present one. She floats back some, emerging to surface. No tug on the rope yet.

But that sword sure made a good point to not touch it. So she glances to the others with a brow raised, treading the water.

"Observation: formation unusual." MAC notes this concerning the crystals it is scanning... and then its faceplate rotates one hundred-eighty degrees following the resonating vocalization to observe the ... liquid unit. "Quantity of unusual formations increased one hundred percent. Clarification requested: specify qualifications for worth."

The woman rises upwards, suspended by water. She _is_ water. "THE CORRUPTION DESTROYS. IT EATS AWAY AT ME. IT EATS AWAY AT THE WORLD. THE END IS NIGH AND THERE WILL BE A NEED FOR WHAT I PROTECT. YOU ARE NOT WORTHY." Her eyes, water though they are turn her attention to Paenitia. "I PROTECT THIS AND WILL NOT GIVE IT TO THE UNWORTHY. IF YOU WANT WHAT I PROTECT, YOU MUST CHALLENGE THE ONE WHO WOULD WIELD IT."

"End of the world?" Aimarra snorts skeptically. "Corruption, I'll believe. So who wants to wield it?"

Aryia blinks, then paddles backwards to the shore. A scowl forms. "Fuck no, not me," she declines to Aimarrra. "What is this stuff she's on about?" <Handspeech>

"Yes. The words are not as clear as you are." Paenitia says in her casual voice, addressing the water sprite, "The corruption I would fight. The needful things to be protect, I would protect. The useful things to use, I would use."

The little lucht sighs, "I do not want the sword but will not stand the insult that I am unworthy of wield it. I say again, I come to help the village after the fire, not to fight, but if there is to be a fight, who is the challenger?"

Her head tilts, "You are the source of the many good things that take place above? The great harvests, the lack of sickness? This not something I desire to change. What happen here?"

MAC-B1G performs some calculations with this updated information. "Probability that edged melee weapon shall successfully avert disintegration of currently occupied terrestrial mass: DIVISION OVERFLOW ERROR." A loud buzz sounds. Its processes redirect. "Identify and/or present current wielder of protected object. Identify source of corruption. Identify threat."

Aimarra looks over at Aryia, but as she has the rope in both hands to pull her out at her signal, she responds in the common tongue. "Damned if I know. I think she wants us to go find the person who's supposed to wield it."

"ONLY THE INNOCENT CAN SAFELY WIELD WHAT I PROTECT. ONLY THE WORTHY SHALL I ALLOW. YOU ARE NOT WORTHY." This, the water-woman seems very insistent about. "I HAVE BLESSED THIS PLACE THAT THE WORTHY MIGHT FIND IT, BUT THE CORRUPTION DESTROYS WHAT I HAVE CREATED." She seems less pleased about this. She points toward the shore near Mac, but not exactly where he is standing. "SEE THE EFFECT OF THE CORRUPTION. IT SEEKS TO WEAKEN ME."

Aryia just flatly stares at the watery avatar, her glancing about and nodding at Aimarra. She looks to MAC, and points at him. "What they said. What is the source of the corruption, if you can ask for me, Aimarra?" <Handspeech>

GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (7)+5: 12
GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (14)+13: 27

As the construct is pointed towards (if not precisely at), it reacts appropriately. Its faceplate rotates 180 degrees from the pointing to check behind it. Obviously the culprit arrived inconspicuously behind it when it was focused upon the liquid individual.

GAME: MAC-B1G rolls perception: (10)+14: 24

Only the innocent. As a little girl, a much littler girl, Paenitia dreamed about riding a unicorn. That died, as many things did, along with her innocence and her time with the Mad Dogs. She is not an innocent, and unicorns are a lot nastier than she was led to believe.

She is a knight that rides a hippogryph, so a part of the wish came true, she found her magical beast. "Ok. I add the search for the innocent sword-master to my quests."

Paenitia is also rather convinced that the water woman was pointing at MAC-B1G, "The war-golem from the Sorceress Wars? It is the corruption? You are sure? Maybe it is this spot here? I do not see a thing."

Following the pointing, Aimarra's eyes wander to the odd, black, shimmering crystals that line the shore, a thing she had previous thought of as pretty, but on closer examination clearly weren't normal. A few blinks, and she straightens, looking back at the watery tart with her head tilted. "She wants to know what the source of the corruption is, if you know." A head jerk towards Aryia.

Aryia was more than certainly not innocent. She's killed in cold blood, and executed without a thought to save her own life. She shakes her head and looks with Aimarra to the crystals. She relaxes slightly as her words were translated for her.

The woman of water continues to observe you. "THE CORRUPTION COMES FROM A BEING UNWORTHY TO WIELD WHAT I PROTECT. I KNOW NOTHING MORE SAVE THAT IT SEEKS TO CORRUPT ME. THIS WILL NOT BE SO." Waves lap up on the shore that you stand on, as if the water that you stand beside is agitated.

"Unusual geological formations probably manifestation or source of corruption," MAC vocalizes as it stares at the formation behind it (that it was examining when the liquid unit appeared).

"Employing countermeasure and collection protocols." It subsequently strikes at the formation with one primary manipulator.

It seems that the crystal is not as solid as it appears to be, because Mac's hand slips into the crystal, and... stays there.

GAME: Aimarra rolls spellcraft: (12)+8: 20

With direct demonstration, such as sticking one's hand inside a crystal and getting stuck, Paenitia is finally able to notice the crystals along the shore. They range in size, fist sized, dice sized, a couple are even person sized. An oversized person, not a right-sized person, which is to say, they are big.

"I see." Paenitia announces, stepping close to one that could swallow her. She stares into the depths, "Well, there is the next mystery. Tie more ropes or just jump in?"

Angels. Fools. Lucht Knights.

Aryia looks at MAC and Paenitia with wide, glowing eyes. "... what? Why?" she gestures, a unsettled. <Handspeech>

"Neither," Aimarra calls, still holding the rope with both hands, but examining the crystals on the shore. "They're deposits from something in the water," she realizes, suddenly speaking aloud. "Aryia, get out of the river, whatever it is is in the water, coming from upriver. It's something liquid."

Aryia steps out of the river, her practically out of it by now already.

"Viscosity of material outside of expected parameters." More informative and helpful observation from the construct, who now attempts to remove its manipulator from the not-like-any-crystal-in-its-database.

As Mac goes to remove its hand from the crystal... The construct will instead find that it has been sucked _into_ the crystal. Thankfully. It does not need to breathe. Still. This is... definitely outside the expected parameters of dealing with a crystal.

GAME: MAC-B1G rolls will: (17)+4: 21
GAME: Aryia rolls ranged: (9)+15: 24
GAME: Aryia rolls strength: (19)+3: 22


Aryia's jaw clenches as MAC is swooped into a crystal. Mildly panicking, she looks around before spying the rope on her. She slips out of it, making a quick knot and lassoing the golem. She turns over and pulls hard, rope over one shoulder as she tries to yank MAC out.

And she's successful.

Very successful. She stumbles forward, trying to not fall back into the waters.

GAME: MAC-B1G rolls will: (4)+4: 8

Seeing Aryia's intent, Aimarra immediately drops the rope and allows Aryia to do as she will with it, but she watches intently. The construct goes sailing through the air, and one hand lunges for the mul, to keep her from going back into the water with it.

GAME: MAC-B1G activates its Titan Armor, gaining: +4 Str
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls weapon4: (20)+15: 35 (THREAT)
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls weapon4: (11)+15: 26

MAC-B1G is pulled free of the crystal suddenly, which seems not so viscous now. It lands, and its faceplate rotates to pan across the taskforce. "Threats identified. Elimination commencing." Additional armor plating telescopes and slides into place over its chassis as it stomps to... Aryia(?!) and swings one heavy, tri-lobed 'fist' into his rescuer.

GAME: MAC-B1G rolls 2d6+8+2d6+8: (4)+8+(7)+8: 27

"Someone switch the batteries, they get reversed, the war-golem is evil now." Paenitia assesses. She has no clue what's going on, other than her friend was struck after a comrade stepped into the corruption.

She steps in, bringing up her shield, "Mac Bee One Gee! I do not attack the allies but you are not function correct. Do not strike Aryia."

She does her best to get in the way.

Aryia got a steel bound deck right into center mass, she gasps in pain, staggering back. She takes that smarting and expounds it, bringing her fists up and ready to grapple with steel. But, with the aid from the others, the steel menace was thwarted by cloth.

"F-ck. -w," she hisses, touching her gut.

GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls will: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Aimarra rolls ranged: (14)+9: 23

And then the construct goes after Aryia! That's not good, not even a little bit. Aimarra thinks for a moment, then pulls her brown cloak from her shoulders and swings it carefully up and over, settling it deftly over his head and obscuring ocular appendages or whatever he wants to call them. There. Maybe he'll stop attacking.

"Threat-" the construct begins to vocalize when its cyan optics are covered and visibility curtailed "-Target lost. Scanning. ERROR: Threat calculation data corruption detected. Re-initializing..." It's limbs lower and it remains where it stands for the moment.

Paenitia stays ready until the construct has finished rebooting, "Ok, so, the corruption come from upstream? Some thing shedding goo? It does not seem the spiritual test, to fight ourselves and comrades."

She gazes upriver. Time to learn more new things.

And it works. Whew. A shiver ripples through Aimarra - she is after all underground, near water, wet, and now without her sodden cloak! She turns her attention to upriver, and looks off into the distance. "Can I have my cloak back, once you're done?" she asks. "And then we need to find where this is coming from."

"Systems stabilized," MAC informs at last. "Warning! Extreme caution advised. Directive-altering influence detected." In truth, fault might also be found with centuries-old IFF modules produced for Conquera by the lowest bidder (and likely by slave labor)... or that dormant, classified directives were somehow inadvertently activated.

The cloak is removed and extended via maipulator to Aimarra. "This unit operational. Continuing task force directives."

The water-woman has been watching your confrontation without comment. Without expression. Without seeming _care_. "THE CORRUPTION COMES FROM ANOTHER UNWORTHY ONE, NOT FROM WITHIN." With that, she falls back into the water, evaporating back into her source without a trace of her remaining. Though one does not doubt her return should there be need.

"Okay." Paenitia says, "that the solid answer. Well let go see."

She turns and starts marching along the river, "Resist the compulsion is hard, we should stay close, and do the soft blows if we find fighting ourself. I don't have the better ideas beyond the go look."

"If there are any, let me hear."

"No, let's go look. Don't touch the crystals." Aimarra takes the cloak back from MAC with a nod of thanks. "Thanks." Another shive ripples through her.

"Locate source. Terminate with extreme prejudice." Unit designate Paenitia inquired, so the construct responds as it moves alongside up the river, scanning all the while.

Still smarting on her gut, Aryia eyes the water avatar with a sigh. Why was she here? Was supposed to just be a 'help the townsfolk move things'. She rubs at her face and slowly sighs, eyeing MAC, even if the golem mentions that all systems were nominal.

She shakes her head at Paenitia. No suggestions here.

She strides along with the others, shoulders tense.

Two things are immediately notable even just a few feet upstream. First is that the crystals are rapidly dispersing - as in they reduce in size and number until they are quickly gone. The second is that the area you have to walk in is getting narrower and narrower unless you want to walk in the water itself. It seems quickly unlikely that you will locate anything upstream from this location.

GAME: Aimarra rolls survival: (12)+14: 26

"This does not seem to be work out. To get in the water will risk the exciting water slide back to the sword. Is there the thing on the ceiling, the stalactite, that the crystals drip from?" Paenitia says, as the space shrinks. She'll be the last affected, but it's clear they all will be.

She stares at the river, swishes the head of her warhammer into it, "I do not see the things in the water, unless there is another like the woman."

"Yeah, I don't feel like swimming." Aimarra looks up and down streams, eyes narrowing in the gloom. She folds her arms. "Underground river all right, but bet me this dumps into the Tornmawr." She scowls, but at Paenitia's suggestion, she looks up, looking for any dripping from the ceiling.

MAC-B1G does not possess detailed files concerning local underground topography nor geological formations, corruptive or otherwise. It can note the decreasing frequency and size of the strange crystals, however. "Probability of upstream source decreasing..." It also scans above at Paenitia's postulate. A pause to calculate.

Its optics declinate further. "Alternate possibility: source discharges contaminated effluent into waterway from soil beneath the water."

Aryia softly sighs, peering into the passageway where the river flows from, yet their progress is blocked. She looks back, and up into the hole they came from. Old doubts started creeping in, that useless feeling. "If the birds died over here, then the source is around here. Somewhere," she throws out there, her gut throbbing in pain. Certainly a nasty bruise was forming at this rate. <Handspeech>

"This is like the earth elemental, or something hide in the rock." Paenitia suggests, looking back, "the concentrate and size of the crystals, they should get bigger close to the source. It need a miner, to follow the seam, or someone with the magic sight."

She shrugs, "I cannot swim in the armour, and this does not seem it. I cannot fight what I cannot find. Maybe the pattern of how the birds die help. I do not know."

Examination of the waterway leaves you without answers, so you head back up to the village. They are after all in need of your aid, and though you know now the source of their woes (or suspect it) you can but inform them of it (or not). Either way you've work to attend to, and the mystery of who is the 'rightful' wielder of that which the water-woman is protecting and who is corrupting her will have to remain for the moment.

-End