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| − | [Avir] Avir wakes tangled in damp bedsheets. Alone, alas. At home, even worst. He tries to grasp the last vestiges of a pleasant dream- there had been a woman, with long golden limbs and a sweet perfume, but it slips from his grasp. He stares at the ceiling. Perhaps it was time to visit Cadda again. He had seen her often these last weeks, and even better than the company and little indulgences was waking up elsewhere.
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| − | [Avir] There's a sktitering noise beneath the floor, a rumbling, and then a howl like a monkey's shriek. It was good he had no neighbors. Avir sets feet to floor and moves about the room readying breakfast. Meat went bad almost the instant it crossed the threshold, and milk soured overnight, but it was difficult for even his guests downstairs to do much to porridge.
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| − | [ST] Though it is morning, the house is dark with the shutters drawn and a winter wind howling outside. As Avir prepares breakfast, he spots a mouse skittering across the floor to disappear into a shadowy corner. It won't last long - they never do. Below, he hears a ponderous shuffling. The thing in the basement is restless.
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| − | [Avir] Avir's gaze goes reflexively to the wards. They were strong. They were enough, he assures himself. He had fed it the Dragonblooded. It could scarcely complain.
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| − | [ST] The trapdoor in the floor shudders. The voice rises through the cracks in the floor, calling his name, beguiling him. One moment, it sounds like Thunder Wisdom. The next, like Cadda, the next, like a woman he has never met.
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| − | [ST] "Avir... Avir... come down and see us all, Avir..."
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| − | [Avir] Avir's hands tremble slightly as he makes the tea. "You'll have to do better than that," he calls down at last, in a droll voice. "Your charms have not grown more tempting."
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| − | [ST] "I have seen your death, Avir. I have seen the ruin of all Haslanti. Surely you would be informed. Surely you do not fear us."
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| − | [Avir] "I am not fool enough to be baited into not fearing you," Avir says evenly, but he kicks the carpet aside with his foot to expose the trapdoor. He stares at it. "Do you see the ruin of Haslanti in the rats in the basement?" He sneers, but his pulse races.
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| − | [ST] The trapdoor shudders slightly, a low chuckle rising. "Your doom comes in many forms. Let me show you."
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| − | [Avir] "Empty threats." Fear, he tells himself. Only fear. Not excitement. But curiosity pricks him. He reaches down to pull open the trapdoor. Even lies could teach him. He ignites an oil lamp and walks down the steps, still holding his cup of tea in his other hand, sipping it in a show of noncholance.
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| − | [Avir] His eyes dart among the crazed shadows the light raises. Light could only ever be an intruder here, and the darkness seems to Avir to gather sullenly at the invasion.
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| − | [ST] The darkness bubbles in strange ways around Avir - though bound within its circle, the demon below warps the home just by its presence. It seems to move about the cellar from time to time, the circle tracking with it. It takes a moment for it to resolve before his eyes, a hideous alien thing, mandibles clicking, chitinous claws scrabbling against the floor-
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| − | [ST] And in the next it is a woman, dark-skinned, her pale red hair falling to her waist, her eyes white and clouded. She smiles, her teeth pointed like a thousand tiny needles.
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| − | [ST] "You have long been away. Am I no longer beautiful to look upon?"
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| − | [ST] Strange patterns like crimson tattoos shift and warp on the creature's dark skin.
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| − | [Avir] Avir's stomach lurches, but in a moment it is already hard to remember the monster before. "You are as lovely as a pile of steaming maggots," he says. "I am not such a fool as Thunder Wisdom."
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| − | [ST] The woman reaches out, as if to touch his face. Blood wells up around her dark nails, dripping to the floor. "No? He refused to heed my wisdom as well."
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| − | [Avir] In truth, Avir concentrates on keeping his eyes on her smile. He could too easily envision those teeth biting his tongue off. It quelled lust- for the moment. "Indeed? I suppose that is all he refused you. What wisdom do you speak of?"
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| − | [Avir] Better not to hear it, he thinks, but curiosity had driven him to the basement and the circle, and curiosity keeps him there.
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| − | [ST] The woman smiles, and additional eyes sprot across her forehead, her cheeks, her breasts, slowly weeping blood. "I have seen. Change is coming to your League. Betrayal. War. Destruction. Many will die. Perhaps you are among them."
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| − | [Avir] "Why tell me?"
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| − | [ST] "Thunder Wisdom would have wanted you to know. Well he sacrified for the League. Much he would have done to prevent this. He was a poor meal."
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| − | [Avir] "The League." Avir's lips twist into a sneer. "His own appetities you mean. And what do you care for what Thunder Wisdom wanted?"
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| − | [ST] "He is a part of me," the creature says, laughing, and its features flicker to resemble the old man's own. "That was your doing as well." Back to the woman, blood bubbling from her lips now. "It amuses me that you see yourself as different from him. You also command the children of the Yozis for your League. Or perhaps your own gain."
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| − | [Avir] Avir's face tightens. "He sacrificed the innocent," he says harshly. "He grew to love power for its own sake. I will never- never- do that."
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| − | [Avir] And he had kept that promise. There was no endless march of murders to the basement. Only what was necessary, the victims carefully selected from the ...deserving. "Speak then, demon, if you wish to make yourself useful; change and betrayal and war I could find from any half-penny fortune teller."
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| − | [Avir] He grins. It's almost a snarl. "And accurate, no doubt; all know the Bull of the North has no love for the Haslanti."
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| − | [ST] "He did what was necessary," she says. "In time, so will you. I listen to the singing of your Tomescu. I know what sacrifice brought it to this world. I know your blood ape crunched the marrow of your dead comrade."
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| − | [ST] The demon laughs, a gentle exhalation like a woman might make in bed. "The threat you face is not from the Bull. Not yet. They will harry you from the south, men with blades of obsidian and howling wolves."
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| − | [ST] "Blood will stain the snow. The League will reel in shock. I have seen it in my dreams, and I am a much better dreamer than your seers."
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| − | [Avir] Avir's gut churns. Two-Bits- he had not known- had not wanted to know. It was a lie, he tried to persuade himself. "And what of me? How will the death that you claim come to me?" he asks to buy himself time.
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| − | [ST] "You will die pierced by the arrows of wolves. You will die in a cold, dead place where there is no breath of life. You will die beneath the ice, in scream-filled darkness. You will die in the Tanstaad Emerald, to a demon you have unleashed. You will die tonight, when the guild woman cuts your throat. You will die from bliss when I tighten my thighs around you." The demon laughs, the sound
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| − | [ST] choked with blood, and tendrils slap and caress the floor. "Not all of them are lies."
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| − | [ST] "Would you know more?" The creature shuffles closer, shadows playing wildly across its body.
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| − | [Avir] Avir backs away, droping his teacup. It shatters, spilling shards across the floor, but he does not tear his eyes from it. A heartbeat. What harm was knowledge? "Yes," he breathes.
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| − | [ST] "The mistress of the forge of night warms her tongs. She will be called to act soon. Yes." The woman reaches out, touching his face, leaving a smear of blood behind. The caress is nearly insubstantial - bound, she can't do him any real harm.
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| − | [Avir] "Who will call her?"
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| − | [ST] "Many. The desperate. The harried. The holders of the secret flame. Perhaps you will be one, in time."
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| − | [Avir] Wariness and calculation vie for control. "How can I stop Haslanti's ruin, then, as you are so full of helpful advice?"
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| − | [ST] "That is the question," the creatue says, leaning close. A smell of corruption and raw lust rises from her, mingled. "It is free. The answer will cost you something."
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| − | [Avir] Avir leans back. "What?"
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| − | [ST] "A life you value." The demon turns a slow, lazy circle. For a moment, her form flickers back into monstrousity, but then she is woman-shaped once more. "Your comrade Miruna, perhaps? He will betray you to the League, sooner or later. Your lover? She is addled, not to be trusted. Or someone else...? Who do you value?"
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| − | [Avir] "I valued Thunder Wisdom." Avir shakes his head slowly. "I won't kill the innocent for you, creature." It surprised him that she-it- should aim so high at once. But perhaps it was only trapped still in the basement because it only managed to corrupt the weak.
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| − | [ST] "They are hardly innocent, Avir." The creature shifts sideways, beginning a brief dance as it moves past one of the columns. When it emerges from the other side, it wears the form and face of Thunder Wisdom once more. "But I did not expect you to accept."
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| − | [Avir] The thought comes to him, slipping into his mind like a snake under the door: Morose Carp. He valued her; she was of use to him, and funny in her dour way. She did not judge him, and yet he could not say she was truly innocent. She hired as blade- likely she had murdered-
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| − | [Avir] but he shutters the thought down as he stares into Thunder Wisdom's eyes. His face hardens. "Nor wil I," he bites out. "Have you said what you intended to say?
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| − | [ST] "Sooner or later, you will accept. When you see the League begin to crumble around you, you will accept. And you will do it wondering if you have doomed your people to ruin by your inaction. If, by accepting my bargain now, you could have saved all those who will die." Thunder Wisdom shakes his head. He seems profoundly disappointed. "That is all I wish to say, my son. Perhaps you will not
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| − | [ST] live long enough to regret that day."
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| − | [Avir] "I do not think I will," Avir smiles coldly. "Thank you for your information, demon."
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| − | [ST] "Any time. Do not forget us. We shall not forget you."
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| − | [Avir] It was not Thunder Wisdom- it was never truly Thunder Wisdom- but somehow his heart still twists in his chest at disappointing him.
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| − | [Avir] He turns to go up the stairs. Hesitates. "You have never told me your name, demon. What is it?"
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| − | [ST] The creature bows theatrically, and then shifts form once more, becoming a writhing, humped thing, disappearing into the shifting shadows. Avir is alone again. As alone as he ever is in this house.
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| − | [Avir] Avir narrows his eyes and snuffs the light.
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| − | [ST] In the darkness, a hideous whisper emerges, scratching at Avir's ears. "Some have named me the Celebrant of Darkness...but my true name is no mortal's ken."
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| − | [Avir] Avir climbs the stairs and shuts the trapdoor behind him. Latches it, shutting the thing away in the gloom. "Celebrate, then."
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| − | -----
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| − | [ST] Athela Ironheart's office is on the second floor of the Tomb, and possesses one of the few windows, although it is currently locked and shuttered. Avir sits alone, waiting for her to arrive.
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| − | [Avir] He looks at the window, wishing to open it so that he might stare out it properly. No telling how long she would keep him waiting. He stands, taking a quick turn about the room.
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| − | [Avir] Idly, he glances at the papers on her desk. Not as a spy, he assures himself. Merely to know what happened in the Haslanti.
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| − | [ST] There isn't much - requisitions forms and a few assignment sheets. A large number of weapons have been commissioned from the armory. A squad is being coordinated to arrest the Black Boar gang. Several members of the Once Dead are recovering in the infirmary... suddenly, outside the door, Avir hears a muted argument
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| − | [ST] "- still no word," Ironheart is saying, firmly. "You had best.... prepared. If Third Scale doesn't return then..."
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| − | [ST] "-no proof yet," another voice answers. Soldas. "Can't confirm.... -eems excessive."
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| − | [Avir] Quickly, he takes his seat again, ears pricked.
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| − | [ST] "Prepare your scale," Athela says clearly as she opens the door. "I'll meet with you later." Soldas grumbles under his breath, but says no more as Athela comes in. She looks much the same as always, wearing a short, severe jacket and pants. Her auburn hair is streaked with gray, but her gaze is as firm as ever.
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| − | [ST] She takes a seat behind her desk, entwining stiff hands before her. Age is creeping onward for Athela despite her best efforts.
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| − | [ST] "So, Avir," she says briskly. "Is there a purpose for this visit? I hope it isn't strictly social. Thunder Wisdom was a friend, but time is short right now, and we're understaffed."
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| − | [Avir] "There is a purpose," he assures her immediately. As if he would seek out the company of the old battleaxe otherwise. "I have come with some..information. You know Thunder Wisdom trained my in the thaumaturgical arts; one of his sources offered me a prophecy."
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| − | [ST] "His sources were less than accurate," she says. There is something of the tribeswoman in her, as in most Haslanti, but she has long ago sloughed off most of its customs. "Shamans more obsessed with their hallucinogens than the accuracy of their visions."
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| − | [Avir] "This comes from no shaman," he says in a low voice. "She spoke of a threat from the south- men with obsidian blades and howling wolves."
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| − | [Avir] So thin and amorphous it now seemed.
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| − | [ST] Athela leans back, rubbing her chin. She places her boots on her desk. Perhaps the barbarian isn't entirely gone. "Hmm... a prophetic dream, perhaps? We have had trouble with wolfman raiders on the southern borders. As you well know."
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| − | [Avir] "Have the Ears been tracking the Fellini's shipments of blades?"
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| − | [ST] "The Fellai operate outside our jurisdiction in many places, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were supplying the raiders... if so, it will prove a costly mistake." She smiles tightly. "They call it the city of Wood and Ivory. I don't think it will stand up well to our fire pots."
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| − | [Avir] Avir matches her grin. "No, certainly not. But be cautious. My source is...reliable in its way, certainly more so than a drugged medicine-man, but twisty. We must not be intemperate."
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| − | [ST] "I'll do what I can," she says, nodding briefly. "But my influence is limited. The Once Dead in particular are overstretched. Desertion in the Fifth Scale, the Third off on assignment, all the casualties we took during Calibration... I'll pass the word along, but I'm not sure it will do much good. We already kill wolves on sight."
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| − | [ST] "I'm surprised they dare to challenge us again, after taking such a beating during the Wolf War. We did kill their anathema leader."
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| − | [Avir] "Did we? I thought she disappeared."
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| − | [ST] "Well... the whole damn valley she was in got blown to hell and back." Athela's eyes catch the light, alive for a moment. "Courtesy of the Once Dead. Hundred Knife Jackal was good for something after all."
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| − | [ST] "She's dead, and her daughters too. She has to be, or we have a much bigger problem to deal with."
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| − | [Avir] "Hnh." Shapeshifters were twisty- he'd learned that much from the thing in his basement. He'd start looking closely at his leadership if he suspected she was not . "You were there?"
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| − | [ST] "Yes. Well, not directly. I was in the Once Dead then. First Talon, Second Scale. The enemy was coming on, they had devastated numerous Emeralds. Our airboats weren't what they are now. We were outnumbered, assaulted, pushed back nearly to Icehome. Jackal and his scale were ordered to stay behind, delay them. Magdala took the bait."
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| − | [ST] "And then our airboats rained fire on her head and Jackal's alike. Neither of them ever came out of that canyon."
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| − | [Avir] "...Did Jackal know?"
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| − | [ST] The smile that scores her face is lopsided, tight. "Well... only Jackal could tell you that. And neither he or his men are talking. Either way, it was his duty. That's the price we all paid to die and live again."
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| − | [Avir] "Huh. So it is." Avir pauses. Says carefully, "Not much of a commander, was he?"
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| − | [ST] "His men loved him," Athela says, her tone growing suddenly dangerous. "I would have died there too, if I hadn't taken a wound earlier in the day."
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| − | [Avir] Avir opened his hands. "No offense meant," he says, one worry assuaged. Jackal was not the Soldas of his time; perhaps his scale wouldn't be the one sacrificed in like manner.
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| − | [ST] She nods. "I'm sure. I'm surprised you don't know the story. I guess there's not many of us who served with Jackal left."
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| − | [Avir] Avir smiles. "And you're a tight-lipped bunch."
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| − | [ST] "This service does that to you." She smiles. "You'll see if you ever get as old and gristly as I am. Keep your nose clean and it just might happen." For a moment a shadow seems to pass across her face.
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| − | [ST] "Avir... this next assignment. I have a bad feeling about it. Watch yourself."
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| − | [Avir] "Oh, I always do," he assures her, then, "What assignment?" Her words whisper poisonously in his ears, twining with the demon's. It was his duty. That's the price we all paid to die and live again.
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| − | [Avir] You will do it wondering if you have doomed your people to ruin by your inaction.
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| − | [Avir] Would it be so terrible? If the demon did not lie.
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| − | [ST] "It may be nothing. I'll tell you when you need to know. All of you. Scalelord Soldas, too."
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| − | [Avir] "All of us," Avir says, heart sinking.
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| − | [Avir] They did not often unleash an entire scale.
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| − | [ST] "Yes. It may not be necessary," she says, rising briskly. "Third Scale may yet return."
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| − | [Avir] "Fuck," Avir says succiently.
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| − | [Avir] "Where did they go?"
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| − | [ST] "They went onto the Great Ice, to investigate the disappearance of an Iceholt barge. That is all I know at this time."
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| − | [Avir] "..scouts?"
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| − | [Avir] A full scale to investigate?
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| − | [ST] "Airboats have swept the area, and-" She shakes her head. "I should not be telling you this, Avir. Hopefully none of you will have to know more. If there is nothing else, I need to consult with Soldas."
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| − | [Avir] "There is nothing else," he says thoughtfully. He rises to salute. "Enjoy your conversation with Trem- the Scalelord."
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| − | [ST] "I'm sure it will be as satisfying as always." She says with resignation.
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| − | [Avir] Avir deemed it diplomatic to salute again and take himself away.
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| − | [Avir] He drinks at the the Joyful Oaf for a time after, conversing with others of the Once Dead and similar shady characters for a long time. He leaves reluctantly, half-drunk, and his wandering footsteps take him to Guildhouse.
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| − | [ST] The guard at the door stands within a little booth to shelter her from the wind and snow, but still shivers miserably. Avir recognizes her: a bored woman whose face is marred by acne scars. She recognizes him, too. "Can't imagine why you're here," she says dryly.
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| − | [Avir] He pauses there, looking at Cadda's window until he sees a hand twitch at the curtains. He remembers the demon's word. A shadow of anger crosses his face. "Nor can I," he says unwillingly, and turns his steps away.
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| − | [ST] The curtain closes with some force.
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| − | [Avir] He could not trust even a demon's lies.
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| − | [Avir] A whimper attracts his attention, drawing him to an alleyway. A cold grin steals all the warmth from Avir's face when he sees a woman beating a streetside whore.He takes a meaty piece of firewood from a pile, and goes to work.
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