PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2 (Running)

[Sedna]

'tis always the good die young.

[puffyn]

Overseer News Network Suffers Near Death Scare

Overseer (ONN) - Cut out of the loop on the largest news stories in Inland in years, disgruntled staffers at the ONN staged a brief rebellion earlier this month that threatened the very survival of their tiny, omniscient land.

The revolt, which caught most nations by surprise, was motivated by outrage at the growing habit of nations to bypass official news sources entirely, issuing their own propagandist, heavily censored reports about the War Against Pythite Passive-Agression. Rumor has it the reporting team for the First Ulm-Ermor Conflict also turned out to decry the dearth of news from that sector, though their protest was itself rather muted.

The rebellion was quickly put down when the Overseer himself stepped in, and yelled "cut", in response to the cries of outrage from the community of nations. Said Cibragol, greedy leader of the beleaguered, but deadly, Pythium empire, "Now I shall never get my pearls!"

The momentary re-writing of history caused some confusion worldwide. C'tis is reported to have learned that they were always at war with Eastasia, assassins everywhere tried to claim double kills, and in the kingdom of T'ien Ch'i, nothing happened.

[djo]

Vanheim turn 27



In which we learn what Belletennares saw while strolling, and what Pherios did about it.


Belletennares

"Well," said Vethru. "You've thrown them out of Vanheim. Congratulations."

I nodded. That the plan would work, I had been confident; that it would continue to work, I was uncertain. Our forces, though highly mobile, were spread thin. The enemy could very easily, once again, infiltrate its forces into our territory at almost any point. That we could expel them as easily was little comfort. The disruption, we could not afford.

Vethru continued. "When will you throw them out of Fom and Great Woods?"

"Soon," I said.

"And Iron Range? I need to get into that tower!"

"Reinforcements have arrived; I will storm the castle soon."

"Excellent."

"And what then?" I asked. "What is our next target?"

"Whatever you want. Just keep what we have."

"And the war? When does it end?"

He smiled. "Will it ever? Your nephew doesn't think so. He's starting to sound as apocalyptic as the Marignonians," he said. "No matter. Use your judgment, unless I tell you otherwise."

As I saw him to the dock, I wondered: when does the risk become too great? We have no hope of massive conquest against our more powerful neighbors, yet we cannot be left out of the spoils. Vethru's wink, as he was rowed away, told me that he knew exactly the dilemma he had left me with.

Later, I walked the night alone. My small dose of Alteion's gift is peripatetic; as I wander, my mind drifts, and my feet bring me to visit places where the future impinges on the present. This night was portentous. I walked deeper in dream than is usual, visiting many locations, each more ominous than the last. I cannot say which of them truly existed and which were only landscapes contained in my own imagination. Of this, though, I am sure: I was drawn by destiny, towed by a thin hawser through the heaving swells of possibility.

I paced along the campfires circling the walls we besieged. As I walked on the beach, I startled a nest of seagulls. I inspected the dying embers of a pyre, of what, I do not know. I visited a graveyard, dark and still.

Through the night, I felt the presence of my nephew Pherios beside me, as if I were guiding him, or acting as his proxy on roads he could not tread himself. Perhaps my small gift had become an agent of his, or perhaps it truly was the gift of Alteion's house, and we but shared it in common.

He walked with me, I felt, when I encountered the dark rider. I came upon it as it rode down a fleeing victim on a straight, dark road overhung by trees. I watched its terrible blade rise and fall.

"Who are you?" I called.

"The enemy of your enemies," it replied, in a chill whisper. It coughed, and it sounded to me like the bark of the hounds of Hel.

"Will you come home?" I asked, or perhaps Pherios asked, through me. At the time, the question seemed appropriate; in retrospect, puzzling.

It flinched. I heard the rustle of mail under its black cloak.

"I have found no path but sorrow," it said. As it wheeled its horse, I could see the horse's reins were wrapped around the stump of its left hand. It galloped into the night.

I would not have credited the experience with any truth, or even any reality outside my own unquiet mind, but the next morning, my scouts reported finding the body of a Pythium deserter, on a straight, tree-lined road, cut down by a rider, left in festering decay.

I detailed my memories in script and dispatched it immediately to Pherios, with the day's reports.


Pherios

Later that afternoon, I returned to Petema's house, bruised and unsuccessful. Molly was still working in the library. She looked up when I walked in. "Sir..."

"Pherios," I corrected her. It had taken her almost a month to learn to speak to me informally, but every now and then, especially when she was nervous, she returned to her old ways.

"Pherios," she said, with concern. "Are you hurt?"

I thought I had washed away the blood. She must have seen my puzzlement. "I heard it," she explained. "About it, I mean."

No blood, then. It never gets easier, being around a seer. "Tell me."

"Someone was reporting to Vethru. Vethru asked if you were injured. The other man, a messenger, said, 'Not too badly. She had no choice. He wouldn't leave.' Vethru thanked him, and I heard the door close."

After getting my uncle's note, I had thought it was time to press forward. I tried to convince Kestumaia to tell me what happened to Galameteia. She refused, and when I insisted, she and her Valkyrie friends threw me out. Hard.

"And then..." said Molly.

"There's more?"

"I heard another voice. One I didn't know."

"What did it say?"

"First, Vethru asked, 'Where is she?' " Molly said. "Then, the other voice said, 'We're not sure; we lost track after she left Iron Range.' "

I didn't think there was anyone important she hadn't met in the last month. I asked her to describe the voice.

"It was odd, kind of small. I couldn't tell if it was a woman or child, or I guess it could even be a man with a high voice. It was almost musical but also kind of coarse."

Quellian Ji knew something! I couldn't believe I'd overlooked Ji. I hadn't seen him much recently, since he spent most of his time with Vethru. But he knew something about Galameteia.

"Who? Who is it?" she asked anxiously. For her, it was as important to recognize the voices she heard as it was for me to decipher the symbols the birds represented.

"Please?" she said.

I could hear the tension in her voice. It wouldn't leave her until she knew. "It's Quellian Ji. You've seen him. He's Vethru's seagull."

"Is he Vethru's familiar?" I couldn't tell if she was frightened or just confused.

A plan started to form in my mind. "No, just an advisor. You should meet him..."

* * *

Ji flew in the window of the library and landed on the table. "Hi, kid, it's been a long time."

"Molly isn't here yet," I said. "Make yourself at home."

"Thanks. How have you been? Hey, can I have some of these blueberries?"

"Go ahead," I said, and while he was occupied, I closed the only open window in the room. I sat down at the table. "Let's talk about Galameteia."

"C'mon, kid. You know the boss won't let me." Then he noticed how serious I was, and he looked around the room at the closed windows and doors. "Oh, crap. Look, Pherios, I'd like to. But boss says no. I can't talk about what happened...then."

"I want to hear that story eventually, but today, I'd like to know where she is now."

A pause. He wasn't going to give anything away. "You know I can't say anything."

I leaned forward. "Do you think you're leaving before you do?"

He squawked. "Sorry, kid, but you don't scare me as much as him. The worst you can do is torture and kill me, and you're too nice for that."

"I need to know!" I said. I didn't know if he was right. I didn't know if I wanted him to be right or not.

"No, you don't," he said, softly. "You really don't."

"There's a hole in my heart, Ji. It's still bleeding. It won't stop until I see her again."

"Just forget it. Please."

"It's destined," I told him. "I see it constantly. It won't leave me alone. I know, it won't fix anything. But it needs to end. Until I see her, until I know what happened, I can't rest. I know it's a blade waiting to fall, so let's be done with it. I need to move on."

"Jeez, kid!"

"Please! Help me. Have you ever lost someone, and not known what happened?"

He flattered his wings. "Damn. Let me think...look, I don't know. I guess I know somebody. I can ask..."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, kid. I ain't doing you a favor."

"I know," I said. "I've seen it."

"OK. Just promise me this--don't tell him. He finds out, you saw all in a vision, right? Leave me out of it."

"All right," I said, and I got up and opened the window. Ji flew to the sill.

"Good luck, kid. Hey, I will see you again, won't I? You aren't, uh, looking for the easy way out?"

"We'll meet again, friend. There are no easy ways out. Not anymore."

* * *

I found the rendezvous point without much difficulty. It was within Vanheim, near a secluded waterfall in dense forest. The stream was only six or eight feet wide, and the waterfall was not much taller.

Quellian Ji's contact rode up on the opposite side of the stream, silently, in the manner of the Vanir, out of the green. Although she rode, she wore the scale mail of a Valkyrie. She wore a full helm, with its visor down. A white cloak trailed behind her. She did not dismount.

I bowed deeply, and she nodded in return.

"A great wrong has been done to her, and to you" she said. "It will not be undone if you see her." Her voice was hollow in her helm, yet hoarse as well.

"I know, Lady."

"It will not ease your heart, or your mind."

"That I also know."

She fidgeted with the reins. "I want to help you, son of Alteion. But I am not sure you know what is best for yourself. Your choices are born of pain. Do you still see clearly?"

"I wish I didn't. It is fated, Lady. It blocks my path. Until it is over, I cannot be whatever I must be."

"Very well. I will contact you, when it is time." She turned her horse to leave. "Have courage, dear Pherios. Afterward, if you have need of me, tell Ji."

The familiarity I had been feeling in her presence coalesced. It was she that wrote an anonymous note to me half a year ago. "Do I know you, Lady?"

As she disappeared, she called, "I am forgotten and remembered."

I looked up to the sky, and two white birds flew across a streak of blue breaking through the canopy. Peace, at last?

[puffyn]

(Sorry it's a little late... don't get much time for yarning during the week these days.)

--- C'tis, Turn 27

Deep in the rock, there is a crypt. The paths to it are tortured and misleading, and few each generation are inducted in their secrets. It is said that no invader could find them without a traitor's help; but no invader has threatened C'tis in the oldest lizards' dimmest recollections of the stories of their grandsires. It holds the remains of the past, and perhaps the future as well.

Hema wonders if dropping the bones of Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandmother Simith (so the tag reads) is sacrilege. She decides that if the council had wanted the bones retrieved perfectly intact, they might have hid them someplace a little more easy to reach. "Or else assigned some hatchlings to help me carry them," she mutters. But the hatchlings are all training for war, and the other sauromancers are too busy with mysteriously vague tasks to assist Hema with the heavy lifting.

"You are so much more knowledgeable in the ways of the dead than I," one of them had the nerve to tell her, as he begged off. Bodimmud, that was his name, and he was even younger than she was. But Bodimmud was marching off to war in a few days, and there was so much to pack, so many incantations to review... Hema treacherously hoped something heavy fell on him in battle, as karmic recompense.

Finally, she reaches the opening to a large, well-lit cavern. She places the box containing Simith next to Great-to-the-somethingth Grandfather Uvatha, and dozens more, some whose names are still familiar to the city, others who died so long ago they are nearly dust. So long as the skull remains, she recalls from the scroll that lies open on a table, worn from heavy use. Not all of the wise can return as revenants, but so long as the skull remains, their wisdom is not lost.

Larch is putting the finished touches on Kurgarru when Hema walks into the lab. "Guild's been keeping you busy with their backlog, I see," says Hema. But then, it's easier to bring back the newly dead, and the Guild is a good source of bright young minds. Too good, sometimes.

Larch nods, looks up, stares inquiringly. He makes as if to speak, then reaches for a tablet. "DID YU FIND HER??" he scrawls. It is ironic; most revenants can speak, after a fashion, but the former masterful spinner of yarns lost his vocal cords to the illness that also claimed his life. And he never bothered to learn to write; let others take down his masterful words.

Larch is learning now. Mother Lalek even says the hatchlings are over their initial terror of his shriveled, bony form in her classes. Mostly.

"Yeah, right where you said she'd be," says Hema. "But, um, her bones were too cracked... when I found her, I mean..." and dropping them while trying to wedge the box out of its hiding hole hadn't helped matters, but Hema wasn't bringing that up. Simith had been pretty far gone when she found her.

Larch nods again. She can tell he is disappointed; he clearly remembers the wise elder from his youth fondly, and is sad that she will not be joining him as a revenant. But all is not lost. Larch points to Kurgarru, who is starting to twitch randomly; in a few days, perhaps he will be able to lower his arm-stump from where it lies locked above his head, vainly trying to ward off a cavalry captain's looming lance.

Larch points again, nods toward the other room. His meaning is clear. He has found someone for his old mentor to teach. Or her skull, at any rate.

Now that that's been decided, Larch turns to his next task. Leaning heavily on his skull staff, he shuffles over to the workbench containing former Guildmaster Nanugal, who lived, and died, for his experimental strong poisons. There is little that can harm a revenant, but Larch is taking no chances with this one. He reaches for his thickest dragon-hide gloves, the ones Cole will never know exist, if he can help it.

Hema descends back into the crypt for another long journey. C'tis needs its dead now, their knowledge, their secrets. Every bone helps, in the war with Pythium.

[puffyn]

Quantum,

Nice yarns. Is Pythium perchance in need of another 10 astral pearls? Seriously though, they were fun to read. You've had the library in Barra for a long time now, haven't you? It would be a shame if something were to... happen to it.


Tauren,

Turn?

[quantum_mechani]

puffyn said:
Quantum,

Nice yarns. Is Pythium perchance in need of another 10 astral pearls? Seriously though, they were fun to read.

Thanks, those two are definitely favorites of the yarns I've written. In the future I can hopefully mix in more like them with the 'serious' yarns.

The astral certainly will be welcome, I believe I've only received 5 pearls for all of my yarns so far... Anyway, I really got the short end of the stick when we re-ran that turn, so the overseer owes me.

[The Panther]

Tauren is moving into a rent house with his college buddies and his system is down for a while. It will probably be a few more days for the next turn.