whackybeanz -> The Past Unraveled III (1/20/2015 12:02:06)
Past Unraveled III
Location: Travel Map » Darkovia Forest » DracoPyre Legacy! » 6: The Hall of Memories » Open Doors! » Click on the arrow » 3: The Confrontation
«Scene: Somewhere in Deren»
Drakath: ... And just what do you want me to do, Dhows?
Erebus: The name is Erebus. So I have been defined.
Drakath: What do you require?
Erebus: Trouble is brewing everywhere. I must attend to issues on Battleonia, but I have a plan there as well. I shall solve the problem with «You».
Erebus: And actions beginning on this continent now must not be allowed to come to fruition.
Drakath: You intend to use The Chosen to clean up your mess?
Erebus: Why not? Is that not what they have been already doing anyway?
Drakath: Manipulation will come back to bite you in the end.
Erebus: My posterior is well armored. For the moment you attend to issues here, as what is occurring here must not be allowed to proceed.
Drakath: The war against the Brilhado? What concern have you in that matter?
Erebus: Firstly, you too should be interested as it will affect Celegra directly and clearly that is something you do not desire.
Drakath: The Celegras will regain their necromancy eventually. They can handle themselves. Secondly?
Erebus: Grimveil, son of Shroudbrood.
Drakath: What of him?
Erebus: He is attempting the same thing that Diviara and Amilara are, but blindly and without guidance...
Erebus: Such experimentation cannot be allowed to continue.
Erebus: It does not end well.
Erebus: It ends in a manner so fell that even I would willingly die trying to stop it. Find Grimveil and redirect his anger.
Drakath: I killed his father and you want me to talk sense into him.
Erebus: The truth shall set you free... He does not know of my involvement or the circumstances. Make it plain.
Drakath: He will not trust me.
Erebus: Then make him see the light. Or kill him. Regardless, he must be stopped.
«Erebus fades into the shadows.»
Drakath: (thinking) Truth... what do you know of it, Erebus? Your entire existence is manipulation. So you wish me to tell the truth. Well personally I think... YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH.
Drakath: (thinking) I shall bring what you ask nonetheless. But I think I shall start first with The Chosen.
«A long time ago...»
???: You are pathetic, Xilar. Did you honestly think you stood a chance...
Xilar: I only wish to serve the Temple, Dargar. That is all I have ever dreamed of doing.
Dargar: One by one the temples have rejected you. All have found you wanting. Did you think that my temple had lower standards than the others?!
«Dargar releases a fire bolt at Xilar, knocking him off-screen.»
Dargar: Get out of our way, useless one.
«Dargar leaves the scene.»
Scion: How incredibly unpleasant they were. Someone really needs to teach them to play nice.
Abode: Someone did... to very great effect, and very great consequence. I am having increasing timing errors attempting this, Scion.
Abode: I really think trying to circumvent Tralin's protections is a foolish venture. Are you sure you wish to proceed?
Scion: Does Artix slay undead?
Abode: Very well. Attempting compensation...
«The scene switches over to an inn, where a Silari Dedicant converses with Xilar.»
Silari Dedicant: Xilar, you may have the talent, you may have the dedication, you may even have the calling... but you lack the commitment.
Silari Dedicant: Just the fact that you have been so willing to move from one temple to another seeking their approval is proof that you are not committed to a single elemental lord.
Scion: (thinking) Buck up Xilar, it gets better eventually, to thine own self be true.
Silari Dedicant: We would hardly be doing a service to our lord if we allowed you to enter his service, knowing as we do that he was not your first choice but your last hope of desperation.
Silari Dedicant: I am sorry Xilar, we have no choice... but you have no future in our Temple, and indeed we question your future is in service to the elemental lords at all.
«The Silari Dedicant leaves the scene. Suddenly, the Dark Lord appears in the scene.»
Dark Lord: Scion of the Nachtfee, do you so casually intrude on the past of our church?
Dark Lord: Your long history with Darkovia, and your people's own connection to me should surely show you the folly of such intrusion.
Scion: With respect, Lord. You have shown openness to such viewing.
Scion: I seek to understand, not to intrude.
Dark Lord: Is that so? And why would you think such use would be permitted?
Scion: Past evidence. The warring siblings have been granted that leisure, as has the Chosen.
Scion: Your own actions suggested such inquiry would be welcomed. If you put out a welcome mat, it is more than rude to shoot guests who accept your hospitality.
Dark Lord: Fair enough, Scion. And what wisdom has your foray gained you?
Scion: The wisdom that your dedicant was a fool.
Dark Lord: He acted as he must have acted, and to claim him a fool betrays your own foreknowledge of what is to come. You are begging the question...
Scion: As he must have acted? That sounds remarkably close to claiming fate as an excuse.
Dark Lord: I do not need to make excuses, Scion. We were in that time what we were, neither we nor our dedicants knew what would come.
Dark Lord: We could only judge by the evidence of the time. Hindsight is always 20/20.
«The Lady of Light appears in the scene in a flash of light.»
Lady of Light: You give too much, husband. Brevity is the soul of wit. Scion of the Nachtfee, what use does this railing serve? The past is fixed. What has been will be, and what was not will not be.
Scion: A typically enigmatic answer, Lady, full of sound but signifying nothing.
«From off-screen, a voice can be heard.»
???: Xilar, son of Xilan.
«Xilar turns toward the direction of the voice.»
???: We have long awaited your arrival here. We had known you would come.
Xilar: Who? Who are you?
«Galian appears in the scene.»
Galian: Xilar cannot see me, just as he could not see me then, but only hear.
Galian: As to you Scion, I fear I have my own criticism of your intrusion into these events, and it has nothing to do with the secrecy of my thoughts.
Scion: Lord Galian?
Galian: Given Tralin's warning and your own awareness of the danger to the timeline, do you honestly think this course wise...
Scion: These events concern a completely unrelated segment of the time line.
Galian: Unrelated? Really? Both events concern my coming and going to Lore. These are an earlier instance but they are irrevocably tied.
Galian: Far from being unrelated, they are the same knot. What's more, you knew it.
Scion: What makes you say so?
Galian: As enigmatic as you may be to some, Scion, I am no fool. Your history is known. Are you denying that this is an attempt to unravel the knot by pulling it from further out?
Galian: Then perhaps you are playing a very dangerous game that may come back to haunt you.
Abode: I told him! I told him.
Scion: Way to throw me under the cart, Abode.
Galian: You told him. But you didn't stop him either. Does Falerin know of this?
Abode: He is off world.
Galian: And this was so pressing that it could not wait? Well, the damage is done already. Reap the harvest that you have sown.
Galian: I am only sorry you are not the only one who shall have to suffer the consequences.
«Everyone disappears from the scene, leaving only Scion behind.»
Scion: Wait... what's that supposed to mean...
«Suddenly, you appear in the scene!»
«You»: So I said-- what the... where am I? What IS this?
Abode: Scion cheated and tried to edit his saved game file.
«You»: Scion... what did you do?
«Several monsters enter the scene!»
5 BATTLES ???: ♪ Saline, saline, saline... Saline the ocean blue... ♪
Full Heal after battles #2, #4 and #5
???: Oh ho! If it isn't that Nachtfee and the Chosen. The very individuals who made MuttonCutlet go and bump his head.
Scion: Bump his head? No, he was like that when I found him...
«You»: Scion, don't make things worse than you already have. ...Whatever you did. What are we doing here?
???: Snark all you like, Nachtfee. I know knot why you are here, but I have been reeling you in for some time.
???: I sea everything. So know very well, that while Scion may claim it's all a fluke, he has done this all on porpoise.
«You»: Who are you?
Carpendter: Gil's the name, «You», Chosen of Lore. Gil Carpendter.
Scion: I would shake your hand... but I expect it would be clammy.
Carpendter: Oh ho. You keel me. Very good, very good dear minnow. You jive very well with my stream of consciousness...
«You»: What do you intend?
Carpendter: I heard the Nachtfee whaling. Whaling about how you lost access to the Hall of Memories.
Carpendter: And it occurred to me. This was too much a coincidence.
Carpendter: So when he snook into the hall to try to alter the parameters by, as the uncreator so recently put it, "pulling at a further away part of the knot"...
«You»: Galian was here?
Carpendter: Indeed and he offered the young scion, by which of course I mean he is a shoot of stout bamboo.
Scion: Like a fishing pole.
Carpendter: Quite sew. A fishing pole, and a descendant of a noble family besides. You are the sign of three, the triple Scion.
«You»: Enough already. What did Galian say?
Carpendter: So shy, Scion. He offered Scion a pearl of wisdom, much like an oyster...
Carpendter: Scion has made your beds...
Scion: A double oyster pun. Bonus points.
«You»: Are you encouraging him in his horrendous maritime puns?!
Carpendter: Though you are a bit saucy and some might find your lack of respect a bit fishy, I like you.
Carpendter: And such a clever Nachtfee. I do like you too, but make no mistake. You cannot play koi with me. I am not fooled.
«You»: Would you two stop with the fish puns and stop floating off on whatever current tangent strikes your... oh for crying out loud.
Scion: I suspect that you are just on a fishing expedition, Carpendtender.
Carpendter: You both wound me. And here I thought our relationship was more tender than that.
Carpendter: Well, perhaps a bit more tenderizing is in order.
«A Transmorpher enters the scene!»
5 BATTLES Carpendter: I thought to myself. Tarn it. Here is a fellow clearly involved with MuttonCutlet's recent haddock. I need to follow. And so I did.
Full Heal after battles #2, #4 and #5
Carpendter: And then I heard you mention MuttonCutlet to the house and I knew that my intuition was good.
Scion: You did not use any fish puns at all in that last sentence.
Carpendter: Of course not. It is possible to go overboard you know... If I forced a pun into every sentence, even where one did not fit... that would be most crappie.
Scion: You are absolutely right. It is possible to go overboard.
«You»: Just get on with it. What do you intend?
Carpendter: My fellow transmorphers and I have in mind a contest. A contest to see which between reigns supreme.
Carpendter: That is to say, which theriantropic manifestation of magical manipulation is superior.
Carpendter: We have ruled out the lycanthropes because their creation is part of our own creation given our Creator's mutual involvement.
Carpendter: And the Seelies and other natural therianthropes because they are not twisted quite as we are.
Scion: I agree. You are twisted.
Carpendter: No, we need to know if the student can outstrip the master and the created could outstrip creator.
Carpendter: But to do this... we needed a bit of creation energy of our own. And thanks to you, we now have it.
Scion: How do you mean?
Carpendter: Myr the shadow priest once committed a great subterfuge. He pretended to betray Tralin and the Lord of Shadow to General Diviara and The'Galin.
Carpendter: His subterfuge went so far it caused Jano of Deren to die. He did this to prevent Diviara from accessing a remnant of creation energy known as the Deep.
«You»: But once there he turned the energy of the Deep aside and with Falerin's help drained it away off Lore to Caelestia. I know the story.
Carpendter: Drained most of it off, that is...
«You»: What do you mean?
Carpendter: Oh suddenly you want to hear me. Moments ago you were grunioning about all I had to say.
Scion: A bit of a stretch there. Did you expect us to buy that line?
Carpendter: A bit eel thought. I have fin on a bit of a roll though.
Scion: It nearly tanked.
«You»: STOP STOP STOP. Just tell us what you intend.
Carpendter: Simple, what the mad mage has begun we shall finish. We shall join what he has wrought with creation of our own enabled by just the echo of the raw creation energy of the Deep.
Carpendter: Were the timeline intact, of course we could not have done anything with that echo.
Carpendter: But there is just enough weakness here due to your actions that we could pinch just a tad from unreality and pull it into reality.
Carpendter: Now we will reweave that weakness into a new stronger tapestry.
Carpendter: I am sure we will meet again. But this decor is totally outre so next time I'd rudder we meet outside the hall.
Carpendter: Once we have restored MuttonCutlet to his normal self, we can proceed. My fellows, alert Lady Apia and Lord Bucknoose.
Carpendter: I have the shard of the Deep and the Battle Royale is to proceed as planned.
«Carpendter leaves the scene.»
«You»: Scion, you idiot. You could not wait? Not a little bit?
Scion: You are a very busy man.
Scion: And as you well know my particular brand of thorough viewing takes a long time. But it seems I may have bit off more than I can chew.
«You»: Ya think? I do not know what those transmorphers intend. But it does not bode well, not well at all.
«Drakath enters the scene.»
«You»: Oh whatever's next?! What are you doing here, dragon?
Drakath: As per my promise to you and to the King, I feel I must alert you that Erebus has returned to Lore.
«You»: What? Do you have proof of this?
Drakath: Return to Battleon and you will soon have your proof. He will appear to you himself.
Drakath: Though be wary for he is once again donning disguise.
«You»: If this is some sort of trick Drakath...
Drakath: I have an 'eeling you have it in for me «You». Can't we just get along? Our past is all water under the bridge after all.
«Drakath leaves the scene.»
«You»: Not Bloody Likely.
«The scene fades to black. Back at Battleon...»
Scion: So when can we continue then?
«You»: Abode said that the knot, once unraveled, simply tied itself up in new, more ridiculous contortions. I fear accessing those memories will prove more difficult than any might have suspected...
«A stranger enters the scene.»
«You»: Greetings and well met, stranger. What brings you to Battleon?
Scion: Nothing good.
«You»: Scion, bite your tongue.
Scion: When is it ever anything good, «You»? Strangers bring either some sort of villainous plan or want saving from someone else's villainy.
«You»: True. Still we do need to know which is which. So what brings you here?
???: The gravest of missions I am afraid. But I cannot speak to just anyone. The one I seek is «You». I am told they are the Chosen protector of Lore.
«You»: Well then you are in luck. I am «You».
Suliban: Thank goodness. I am Suliban Filigree, a studied zoologist and naturalist. I have made my life's work understanding the processes that drive living beings of all sorts.
Scion: And seeking you out by name. This won't end well...
«You»: Hush. Go on Suliban.
Suliban: As you may know some time ago, events transpired that caused severe damage to the ley lines of Lore.
Suliban: This damage has caused considerable unbalance in the nature of the necromantic and healing magic.
Suliban: As my research has never drawn on traditional magical channels, I assumed my research was fully unaffected.
Suliban: I was able through my work with the Hadeni, for instance, to continue studying negative life forms and ordinary undead without issue.
Suliban: Recently, however, things have taken a decidedly bad turn. I encountered a number of creatures in the Darkovian forest that defied all attempts at classification.
«You»: What sort of beings?
Suliban: I do not even know how to start. These creatures seem to exist in some sort of strange hybrid state between positive and negative life.
Suliban: Initially they appear as living beings, but when threatened or damaged, their life force appears to inverse, taking on variably an either necrotic or bestial aspect.
«You»: The Transmorphers. I am unfortunately quite familiar with them.
Suliban: You are?! That is a relief.
«You»: They are the creations of a former acquaintance.
Suliban: They have started that way... but...
Scion: I do not like that sound of that "but".
Suliban: I have no idea what form of necromancy your acquaintance practiced, but it is of no sort I have ever seen before. It seems it drew directly on the light and darkness realms in equal measure.
«You»: That seems accurate, sort of anyway. I take it there is more to it than that...
Suliban: He appeared to use readily available connections in the design of these creatures, but he did not employ traditional mechanisms.
«You»: Wouldn't that mean that when the ley lines were interrupted, the creatures would be weakened?
Suliban: One would think so... but apparently because these creatures existed in a hybrid state to begin with, neither positive or negative life...
Suliban: In the absence of the tethering that your "acquaintance" set up to restrict them, they began to populate out of control.
Suliban: Their DNA became even more erratic and unstable. In the past month alone, several new varieties have evolved, entirely on their own.
Suliban: Worse, their continued evolution has pushed them from simple animals into sentient beings.
«You»: Sentient? So MuttonCutlet was not the only one.
Suliban: MuttonCutlet? You have encountered these creatures before?
«You»: I fear I have.
Scion: Sapient as well some of them...
«You»: Don't remind me...
Scion: He did tell you MuttonCutlet would be back...
«You»: Yeah. He did.
Suliban: Indeed. Well this MuttonCutlet you mention appears to be one of their leaders.
Scion: Wonderful. Well at least ewe got to admit he has class...
«You»: Enough snark and bad puns, Scion.
Scion: Impossible! There can never be enough snark or bad puns, «You».
Suliban: Their thinking has led them in some very odd directions. As they are themselves transmorphic creatures, they have come to worship the process of transformation with an almost religious zeal.
Suliban: At first they clung to the other transforming undead of Darkovia. Had it remained there, things would have likely been fine.
«You»: I sense another "but" coming on...
Suliban: But somehow they learned of the existence of armor that could grant any creature the mystical wonders of transformation.
Suliban: They have determined that they will grant this gift to everyone... whether they like it or not.
Suliban: The humans of Darkovia are being captured and fused with these armors. The result is that the citizenry is slowly being transformed into marauding Ghurahl, Homo Porcilis, Homo Icthis, Homo Bovis.
Suliban: Sorry. Ghurahl are werebears, though the term is actually a misnomer here. Werebears are not created by armor.
«You»: Oh... lords... and let me guess: Homo Porcilis means werepigs...
Suliban: I am afraid so, «You». You are familiar with these armors?
«You»: Those two anyway, and their creator.
«You»: So what is Homo Icthis or Homo Bovis? I was unaware that Cysero made any other forms.
Suliban: The Icthis are walking humanoid lung fish.
Scion: Well lung fish are adapted to life on land.
Suliban: Yes, ordinarily, but never to this extent. Worse, these particular creatures seem quite adept at finding the weaknesses of their enemies and exploiting them...
«You»: Flaw-fish?! Seriously... After Smoke Mountain, I should have guessed. But how could Lanfire have predicted this outcome?
Scion: He is Ardendor's avatar. Does anything strike you as out of bounds where the Loremaster is concerned?
«You»: And Bovis...?
Suliban: Werecattle. The form is essentially halfway between a centaur and a minotaur but based more closely on cattle than horses.
«You»: Let me guess...
Suliban: That is a definite possibility.
Scion: Well these changes certainly appear to Moo-ve the transmorphers in odd ways. We cannot leather behavior continue...
«You»: Alright, Scion don't have a...
«You»: Oh no I don't! I refuse! I absolutely refuse.
Suliban: Perhaps you could use "Don't have a conniption?"
«You»: Yes... much better.
Scion: Is that all?
Suliban: I fear not.
Scion: Of course not...
Suliban: A child who has been captured and transformed by the Flaw-Fish camp maintained enough of his humanity that under study he revealed I should seek your aid. A young man named Victor Timothy.
«You»: Vic Timmy?
Scion: I know him. That kid can never catch a break...
Suliban: You must hurry to Darkovia, «You». There are indications that the factions of the Transmorphers are planning on pitting the forms against not only each other.
Suliban: But also against other creatures and transmorphers, in an all out battle royale.
Suliban: They have set up a victim stadium to pit their subjects against each other in gladiatorial combat.
Suliban: To determine which "between" reigns supreme... naturally.
«You»: Right. Clearly time to kick some transmorpher tail.
Suliban: You must be careful, Chosen. Should they suspect you, they will fuse you as well.
Scion: So we must secretly infiltrate the stadium...
«You»: This requires a bit of careful thought.
To be continued...
Coming Soon - The Battle Royale!
«The Past Unraveled III shop opens. Once you exit the shop:»
Past Unraveled III
Transmorpher Shield [L. 10, 30, 50, 70, 90, 110, 130 | 150 G]
Corrections thanks to Archlist.