Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 18, 2006 12:09:37 GMT -5
Chapter Six: The Philosopher Part Five: A More Important Revelation
The splinters of the door scattered through the air in a cloud, and a procession of stone golems, like a derailed freight train, clamored into the hall, driving the pirates back with their superior inertia. The pirates were taken by surprise and had already been forcibly ejected back onto the deck, exiting the stairway in a little geyser of tumbling, battered bodies, before they could regain their footing and bring weapons and magic to bear against their assailants.
Taking advantage of their momentum and the unbalanced position of the pirates, the unarmed golems charged headlong against their foes, boxing and grappling with the disoriented brigands. One by one, the stone juggernauts crashed against their opponents, sending them tumbling before them along the planks of the ship, but only so much damage can be dealt at once by an untrained construct swinging empty hands, and one by one, the pirates regained the upper hand, twirling swords and flinging magic and beating back the hastily built combatants.
Sadam rose back to the deck. The world was a fire-orange. The lights of the setting sun bathed the world in their traditional plasma-hues, and a familiar tingle ran through the Philosopher's tiny body.
Sunset, he thought, glamour hour.
It was a long held tradition among the atomy of Raji that they had once descended from another, grander people, known as the seelie, but that in the early years of the seelie, the members of the race had called upon the power of the seelie glamour and unwittingly banished themselves to several, distant worlds, where each had evolved in their own, distinct way. They would meet again, at the joining of the planets, and when they did so, they might not even be able to recognize one another, save for one detail: their common tongue. They would unite then and form the seelie court, and together rule the whole of their universe.
Arcanus, unfortunately, had a similar tradition about their origins. "Jotun" was the name of their parent people, and "gshift" was the power they claimed was responsible for the separation, but the atomy generally presumed they were copycats and couldn't come up with a decent legend by themselves. Typical mortals.
A hovering Jinn launched another electrical bolt down at the golem that was flailing its arms wildly below, trying to reach the flying foe. The golem cracked and exploded, sending bits of gravel spitting past Sadam, tearing him away from his thoughts.
He shook himself. Now was not the time for that. He must concentrate here. This battle was not to be won with glamour. The guildmaster brought his thunderstick around, laying down fire to distract and injure the opposition, hopefully giving his golems an opening to turn the tide.
It was useless. Golem after golem broke down and died. Finally, the alchemist put his thunderstick away as the last few constructs were defeated. He flew out into the center of the lower deck and landed there, taking a seat and opening his bag of equipment.
The pirates gathered round, encircling Sadam, but not attacking their diminutive nemesis, now more wary than before of the small creature's power.
"Give it up," Ali called at him, "You're outnumbered and surrounded. Fly on peacefully, and we might be persuaded to grant you quarter."
From his pack, Sadam withdrew a perfect, blown-glass sphere. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Sadam surrenders. ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 18, 2006 12:10:34 GMT -5
Chapter Seven: The Mustajib Part One: Ready
"So you think I'm ready?" Nihan asked Nusrat uncertainly.
Nusrat smiled. "You were ready yesterday," she said, "I've never seen anyone grasp the concepts as quickly as you have. It's quite remarkable. Show me your hamstring slash again."
Nihan showed her, ducking by the practice dummy and hacking at its upper leg with flawless precision. In her mind, she imagined it was her sister. She imagined the look of surprise on her face, and the way her straight, sandy-brown locks twirled as she fell, her whole visage reeling with shock at the realization that her faith in Sikkar wouldn't always be enough to protect her. . .
Nihan didn't hate her family, not quite anyway, and given the opportunity, she would not be attempting to test out any of her new training on them without reason. Still, she wasn't exactly on the nicest of terms with them, especially not with Naomi, her perfect little sister. It gave her just a hint of satisfaction and more than a little extra motivation to imagine the girl witnessing a power beyond the meager confines of an Elysium chapel. She didn't think Naomi could handle that on even a conceptual basis.
"And again," Nusrat prompted her.
Nihan did it again, just as gracefully and precisely as before.
"Now infight," Nusrat said.
Nihan closed with the dummy, moving under its crudely-animated guard and striking it twice, hard.
"Hand spring," Nusrat said.
Nihan stepped back from the dummy and ducked into a crouch, pulling her wings tight around her and focusing. She leaped into the air, sailing a few dozen meters straight up without the aid of her wings, where she alighted on a loft over the training area.
"Perfect as usual," Nusrat said, beaming, "Now come on down here."
Nihan smiled to herself, feeling very pleased. She stepped from the loft and glided down again to the floor.
"I am impressed," Nusrat said, "I really am. Excellent form indeed. The Imam must be a better teacher then he lets on."
"Oh, he is," Nihan said, not completely lying. In fact, he hadn't talked to her since the incident two days ago in the storage room. He hadn't taught her a thing related to her training thus far at all. That didn't mean, of course, that he had taught her nothing. Nihan still remembered a few tricks she had seen him use that she wasn't likely to forget very soon. . .
Many would have taken his avoidance of her over the past two days to be cowardly. Nihan knew better. Something was troubling the Imam, and her presence would only serve as a distraction right now. She would have to be patient, she knew, and she would be.
"So you really think I'm ready?" Nihan asked.
The arcanus woman smiled at her meaningfully. "Yes," she said, "I definitely think you're ready. Now drop and give me twenty before someone thinks I've gone soft on you." --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": 20 ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 18, 2006 12:11:20 GMT -5
Chapter Seven: The Mustajib Part Two: Push-Ups
Nihan dropped to the ground, placing her hands close together and flipping her practice daggers around so that they extended across the backs of both hands, carefully balanced between wrists and knuckles. Ordinary daggers would have lain better, as the blades were flat and would sit against the hand more easily, but the practice daggers had no such flatness. They were wooden stubs with "blades" that were almost perfectly round and just bore a small ridge along each side to denote where the edge ought to be.
Nihan hesitated just a second, checking that the daggers weren't going to roll away on her, then straightened her body, tucked her wings, and began her push-ups, counting.
One, two, three. . .
The training room was dark- darker than the daylight skies of Shara at any rate, though not very many things weren't. At times, whole ranks of mustajibs and novices could be found here drilling individually or in pairs, but for now, there was only Nihan and Nusrat, and the air was still and quiet. The only sound was Nihan's heavy breathing as she ran through what was to be her twenty-first set of push-ups that hour. The silence prevailed, and the mustajib's thoughts drifted.
Eight, nine, ten. . .
So she was ready then? Nusrat certainly thought so, and the Hand mentor's was usually the best opinion to rely on when it came to such issues. She smiled to herself, huffing out air as she continued her exercise.
Thirteen, fourteen. . .
Her arms were already tired from the repeated exercises of the previous hour spent with the mentor, and she slowed visibly, reaching the edge of her endurance once again, sooner this time. Such training was meant to build that endurance, and Nihan needed it. She was not particularly strong, but she didn't have to be. It was stamina that mattered in battle. You had to outlive an opponent, sure, but if you wanted to survive, you had to outlive all who would follow them as well.
Sixteen. . .
So she was ready, was she? But was she really ready? She was progressing so quickly, moving at what she was sure must be a record pace, but at what cost? What if she progressed too quickly? How would such a progression be affecting her plans?
Seventeen. . .
Nihan didn't know, and that worried her. She needed to be good enough to proceed, but to go too far meant to miss the very opportunities she had worked so hard to obtain. . .
Eighteen. . .
Sweat streaked her brow. Her arms felt ready to explode or catch fire (she wasn't sure which), and her hands trembled. She worried that the daggers might roll out of their spots before she was finished, and she knew that Nusrat would make her start the whole exercise over again if they did so.
Nineteen. . . .
The doors of the training room exploded inward with a loud slamming noise. A voice shot out across the room, muttering angrily in Jotun.
"On your feet," Nusrat hissed, and Nihan was all too happy to comply. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Speaking in specifics ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 18, 2006 12:12:05 GMT -5
Chapter Seven: The Mustajib Part Three: Missing Something
"I don't know," Nusrat said, answering the newcomer in Common.
Nihan came to her feet shaking out her arms as much as she thought she could manage without anyone noticing. Even when tired, it was important not to appear to be so. It would not do to have an opponent made aware of one's weaknesses so they could so readily be exploited. An opponent who thought you were tireless, or that you lacked any weakness that was actually present, would not bother trying to wear you down and focus his efforts on seeking weaknesses that didn't actually exist. Such was the mode of fighting as a Hand: combat based on deception.
From across the room, another arcanus approached, grumbling something else in Jotun. This one was shorter than Nusrat, (who was almost double the height of Nihan) but still had the bearing of one who was not to be questioned in his demands. As he came closer, Nihan recognized his face. It was Salem, the Eighth Degree: Hand Guildmaster.
"I haven't seen him since we spoke with Sadam two days ago," Nusrat replied, stubbornly sticking to the Common tongue. Despite the small gesture of stubbornness, she seemed extremely subdued in the arcanus man's presence. Whatever spark of good- natured mentorship she had possessed before had snuffed out with his entry, replacing itself with something that resembled quiet subservience. "I'm sure he'll find you shortly if you need him though. He's not the easiest person to locate, but he has a habit of appearing where he is desired. Such is the nature of his position."
"She's quite right," came a new voice, bold and clear from across the room, "You need to have a little more faith, Salem."
The Imam materialized from the shadows. The guildmaster turned to him, giving him a respectful bow, as did the others behind him, save that the guildmaster did not waste effort bowing quite so low. "My most holy Imam," they all muttered.
"I wish I knew how it was that you managed that," Salem said with a sigh.
"Teachings of the Hand, nature of the fifth degree," Huja said, citing a reference, "Now what is it that you wanted to speak with me about?"
"I-" Salem began but hesitated, glancing sideways at the others.
Huja nodded. "Nusrat, Miss Bath-Asher," he said, "Would you excuse us for a moment?"
"Of course," Nusrat said softly, bowing again. Nihan followed suit before trailing the mentor out into the hallway.
"What was that about?" she asked, when they were safely outside.
"Nothing," Nusrat said, "Or if it is, it is something you ought to forget about. Clear your mind now, and hurry along, it would be wise to arrive before Naomi begins waiting for you."
Nihan nodded. "You're right, of course. Thank you." She gave the mentor a very slight bow, and the arcanus woman smiled.
"You're ready," Nusrat said.
"I know," Nihan said and started away toward the office of the First Ward. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Late. ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 18, 2006 12:12:58 GMT -5
Chapter Seven: The Mustajib Part Four: Faces
Nihan stepped through the door of the first ward's office tentatively. She was early. Naomi was nowhere in sight.
Naturally, that didn't mean Naomi wasn't actually here. She could be anywhere. When you were barely a foot tall, you could go unnoticed quite easily, and when you were a leader in a guild of assassins, you often went unnoticed on purpose.
Nihan stepped slowly out to the middle of the room, expecting the atomy to pop into view at any moment and being determined not to jump when she did so.
Nobody appeared.
Relax, Nihan told herself, but she couldn't. She was ready, right? She certainly hoped so. Nusrat seemed confident, but there was so much more relying on this than Nusrat was aware of. Did that make the mentor more objective or less? Nihan wasn't sure.
She knelt down on the floor in, humming quietly to herself, meditating. She needed to relax. She needed to regain her energy. She needed to distract herself to reduce the tension. . .
Images flipped through her mind as she tried to clear it- home in Elysium, home here in the Hand Guild, friends and enemies she had made in both places. . .
Her mother and father came first. They would never approve of what she was doing now. They were part of her past now, and she must move on. If nothing else, she must prove herself here just for the sake of proving them wrong. Nusrat, the kindly arcanus mentor who had taught her so much since her arrival, she must succeed here because Nusrat expected it of her. She owed the woman greatly. Naomi, her sister, and Naomi, the atomy First Ward of the Hands fought for prominence. Strange for the names to coincide on two women who were so fundamentally different and yet, in their own way, were so very much the same. Neither face was comforting just now, and Nihan cleared her mind again.
She took several long breaths, keeping focused, keeping empty. . .
A new face appeared. It was Huja, the Imam, looking as focused and straight-faced as he ever did. What she wouldn't give to see him smile just once. . .
"So you're here already," came a tiny voice.
Despite all her resolve, Nihan started at the sound. Her eyes snapped open and she saw Naomi, the First Ward, hovering a few inches from her face, looking at her critically.
Nihan nodded hesitantly, unsure of how else to react. The atomy shook her head. "Well, let's get this over with, shall we?" --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Blood and steel! ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 18, 2006 12:13:40 GMT -5
Chapter Seven: The Mustajib Part Five: Test
Nihan held the position, panting heavily. Naomi made no comment for several minutes, content to bide her time with some task that was outside the mustajib's peripheral vision. Nihan waited.
And waited.
Half an hour later, she was still there, half-crouched and holding two thin bladed wasters straight out to the sides. She had just finished demonstrating an infighting maneuver with the weapons on a practice dummy when Naomi had ordered her to freeze before returning to her normal fighting stance. Naomi had yet to give another order, and Nihan's arms were beyond getting tired. Already, the weapons were sagging earthward. Naomi still made no comment. Now and then, Nihan could hear a faint scritching- scratching noise from Naomi as she worked to fill out some form or other.
Five more minutes. The weapons dropped lower. Sweat flowed freely down her face, and Nihan's arms burned with the strain. This was inhuman, but so were the Hands. To move like they did, to fight like they did, surely this was what it took. Nothing easy would make her strong enough. She gritted her teeth, willing herself to continue.
Two more minutes. The weapons fell farther, and she tried vainly to raise them back up again. The tips dipped down, arms barely making a forty-five degree angle with her body. Any lower and they'd be on the floor. This was a technically relaxed position here, but it was all she could do just to maintain it.
Another minute. The swords reached the ground. Determinedly, she strained against them, trying to raise them. Nothing happened.
"I- I can't lift them," she said at last.
"Hmm?" came the voice of the First Ward, "Oh! I'm sorry! I almost forgot about you! You're free to go, you know. You were just so quiet. . ."
Nihan gave the atomy a look. She wasn't sure what kind of look she had intended, but she found she didn't have the willpower to do anything specific, so she just looked at her.
"Did I pass?" was all she could think of to ask.
"What?" Naomi eyed her, "Of course you passed! Best I've seen all season! The test was over an hour ago. That was just some drill afterward to kill time."
Nihan slumped down to the ground, and the small woman gave her a concerned look. "I'm really sorry I forgot about you," she said.
Nihan didn't respond for several minutes. At last, Naomi shrugged, heading back to her paperwork. "I guess you proved your stealth abilities, at least, but you probably have other things to be getting on with now. Sorry for keeping you. Congratulations anyway."
Absently, the anakim nodded. That was it then, she had done it. She was a Novice.
Good, she thought, now she knew she was ready. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Fish merchant. ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:40:16 GMT -5
Chapter Eight: The Guildmasters Part One: Ol' Jaf
The level of the ocean had dropped. All the fishermen and sailors were saying so, at least. Nobody else could really tell the difference yet, but the men were insistent. High tide had come, then low tide had followed, but then where there should have been a high tide again there was just a slightly higher low tide to replace it. Low tide would be here soon, they said, and then everybody would see what they were talking about.
Jafar, or "Ol' Jaf" as most people tended to call him, had been living on the open seas since he was up to eye-level on a lobster, which, for an atomy, is anywhere from preteen to toddler years, depending on the particular lobster in question. That had been an awfully long time for Ol' Jaf, more time than even most anakim ever live to be familiar with, but he had lived those years well, sailing all over Raji and selling his prized cargos. His cargos could be just about anything when you saw Ol' Jaf coming into port. Anything but fish, that is. Ol' Jaf hated fish.
His boat didn't look to be going anywhere now though. It was stranded in the freak low tide, right along with the rest of them, a low tide Jaf knew should have been gone an hour and a half ago and was due to start coming back at any time. He eyed the sun and sat along the pier, watching the water like everybody else.
It had started with barroom whining from the fishermen. There was something wrong with the ocean, they had said, pulling a few extra draughts of Scottish ale. High tide was late, and they needed it in order to get the bigger vessels out of the bay. The locals had ignored them at first, but more and more sailors had started trailing into the taverns with similar complaints and pretty soon, everybody was starting to get curious. It wasn't long before talk of the ocean draining had spread around and people thought the whole sea would up and vanish in next the low tide. You'd expect that sort of thing to start a panic, but no, everyone just got curious, and so they were here, watching the waves with Ol' Jaf, determined to see what happened for themselves.
Minutes passed. The sun pulled its way on down toward the horizon, flaring up the sky in the west and casting sideways fire across the ocean waves. Slowly but surely, the crowd caught its breath as the water started to go down again. Ships hulls creaked as their timbers touched down and began taking up the full weight of their cargo. All over it was happening, the level of the bay went lower and lower. . .
And then it stopped. Low tide was fully set in, and there was no way anybody was going to do any sailing now. Still, it seemed the worst was over. Water was just a bit lower than usual and showed no sign of moving again very soon. Strangely let down at the world still being intact, the crowd began to disperse. Maybe it would be better in the morning, they thought. Another half hour passed, and there was nobody there but Ol' Jaf, staring at the waves and thinking.
This wasn't right, he knew, the ocean just didn't do that, unless there was a Big 'Un coming, and even with the recent earthquakes, nobody had ever some one of the Big 'Uns come at Shara. Cyllyl was watching over them here, and no Big 'Un was gonna' touch this city.
At last, Jaf stood, shaking himself out, and fluttered off to find a tavern for the night. Sure, it wasn't right, but he had been around long enough to know there was nothing he could do about it.
Had he stayed any longer, he'd have seen one last ship approach the harbor for the evening, an older, more refined sort of vessel, seemingly manned only by alchemical golems. It set anchor farther out and then, without a word, the ship's only inhabitant alighted from the deck, darting into town on butterfly wings and heading straight for the Cathedral of Cyllyl. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": The Genie of the Lamp! ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:48:32 GMT -5
Chapter Eight: The Guildmasters Part Two: Hole
The hole was only about a foot wide and vaguely trapezoidal, though there was no reason to believe its formation conformed itself to any regular shape or pattern. The odd thing about it wasn't its shape anyway, nor was its size, even though Salem swore it had only been about two inches across a few minutes earlier when he had left it to go find the Imam. The odd thing about the hole wasn't even the fact that it had spontaneously appeared in the floor of the lowest tunnel of the Hand Guild.
The odd thing about the hole was that it had no bottom, nor sides. It just opened up below them, like a little window into infinity. To make things even more confusing, infinity couldn't seem to settle on a constant shape or color.
It was also glowing.
Salem's gaze traveled up from the hole to rest upon the Imam. Strange colors flashed from within the hole, predominantly reds now, but there seemed to be varying light and dark patches of indefinite shades as they reflected across the anakim's expressionless features. Did Huja have any way of knowing what this looked like? Still, Salem couldn't even be sure it was really what he suspected it was, it was preposterous, but what if. . . ?
No, there was no reason to doubt himself now. Even if this was related, it would only be a minor side-effect, an acceptable glitch. It could never extend far beyond this, and the benefits would outweigh whatever damages had been caused by a significant margin. But that was just being paranoid. He didn't actually know. . .
"You have training in magic, Salem," Huja's voice cut into his thoughts, "What do you make of this?"
Salem shrugged, peering into the hole. Nothing was visible but an endless field of light, and at the center, a strange, pulsating mass. "I am uncertain," Salem said, "Even to judge if we actually see through a hole here at all. I cannot perceive depth, so I cannot say if the central mass is near or far, the fluctuations make it indefinite. It could be inches below or thousands of miles away. The changing light colors, however, suggest either chaos or illusion, if not some pattern too complex for us to understand. It is entirely possible, therefore, that this is not a hole at all, but just a random flickering liquid upon the floor that casts its light in such a way as to seem to be a cavernous gap or window."
"Is that likely?" Huja asked.
"Not in the slightest," said Salem, "But it is possible. I would not, however, recommend poking random objects through to find out."
There was a moment of silence as both looked upon the hole once again. "It looks like. . ." Huja began, trailing off.
Salem did his best not to halt his breath. Did the Imam recognize it? Did he suspect it somehow? He could not risk the Imam showing disapproval on his project. That was, of course, if this manifestation was in any way related. There was time to fix things still, time to correct the progression, and keep the flow of things moving on toward the greater good of the people of Raji, but he needed not to be interfered with.
"It looks like the energy storms," Huja finished at last, "The ones suula come from."
Salem was unsure whether to be relieved or annoyed by this seemingly errant statement. Still, he considered. Yes, it did, in fact, look rather like the suula generating energy storms, now that he thought of it. He was probably overreacting. Sadam had come from the Alchemist Guild only a few days ago with mention that the suula storms were behaving strangely. This was probably all part of that same, strange, unrelated phenomena. And yet. . .
"Speaking of which," Huja said, "Sadam has just arrived at the cathedral gates. Go and get him before he makes too much trouble, and bring him to me here immediately. I want to consult with him on this development."
Salem nodded hesitantly, unsure of which he found more disconcerting: the way Huja seemed to know of the Philosopher's arrival, or the way he began his sentence with "speaking of which" even though no mention of the atomy had been made.
Except in Salem's own thoughts.
He bowed slightly, and still feeling a bit unsettled, made his way up to the cathedral to greet the unexpected visitor. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": A dimension of pure itchy! ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:49:52 GMT -5
Chapter Eight: The Guildmasters Part Three: Necessity
"Did you find him?" Huja asked.
Salem nodded, extending an open palm. Across the middle of it, the unconscious form of the atomy was clearly visible in the altering light.
"Was that really necessary?" Huja asked.
"We are required to disguise the location of the entrance to the guild, are we not?" Salem asked, "The tunnels are shielded from teleportation, and there was no way of completely obscuring his senses while we passed through without rendering him unconscious. The will of Cyllyl is too important to be entrusted to mere blindfolding or requests that he 'keep it a secret.'"
There was a pause while the Imam examined his Dai blankly. After a moment, he shrugged and said, "Fair enough."
The anakim gave a curt sort of nod to the inanimate pixie, squinting ever so slightly with concentration as he did so. Sadam stirred immediately, rubbing and shaking his head as he looked around him. He looked disoriented, lost. His eyes strayed upon the hole in the ground, no larger than it had been before, then up onto the face of the arcanus who held him.
All at once, he seemed to remember where he was. Wings beat hard and he shot into the air with an angry, high-pitched snarl. "Was that really necessary?" he demanded.
"Apparently," said Huja to the atomy's rear, "Welcome back, by the way." --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": The guildmasters embrace! ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:51:21 GMT -5
Chapter Eight: The Guildmasters Part Four: Adventure
Sadam had just had an adventure. That was simply a matter of purest fact, and purest facts were what alchemists were all about, after all. Anyway, he had just had an adventure, and that was something. Forget all the fancy-dos about having been knocked unconscious and unceremoniously dragged off to who-knows- where, the adventure had been had, and Ishtar, Cyllyl, Sikkar, or whoever else in between help him, Sadam was gonna' tell somebody about it, and there was no way he was gonna' let himself get distracted this easily! Always in his life, he met with folks like the Hands or even some of the more wanderlusting alchemists under his command, and always he knew that they were generally off having adventures while he just sat at home in his lab, toting with his potions and doing the usual desk work. They never said anything, but he knew they were thinking it. What they said was, "How goes the work, Sadam? Any new discoveries?" but what they thought was, "How was the boring desk job? Are the new chemists all getting along okay, or are they still fussing about Ishtar-knows-what and making you cater to their every need? Nevermind that our lives are exciting- We have actual -danger- now and then- How are you?"
Well, not anymore! Now Sadam had his adventure, and he was gonna' tell them all about it!
"Indeed," Sadam said, giving the Imam's greeting a dejected acknowledgment. "So-"
"We were wondering if you could have a look at this," Huja asked, gesturing to the mysterious hole.
"Huhwha?" Sadam muttered, absently glancing at the hole, "Oh." He paused for a moment, looking at it, but not really seeing anything. "Yes, very nice," he said, "You know, I was on my way back to the alchemist guild, when my ship was attacked by pirates. Took us by complete surprise. Killed my entire crew and all that."
"Tragic," Salem said.
"What? Oh, yes, I suppose," Sadam said, "There was at least one jinn, suula, and atomy among them, wasn't there? Most unfortunate that they died."
"If I recall, you had more in your entourage than just-" Salem began, but Sadam cut him off immediately.
"Well, yes," he insisted, "But the rest were all mortals, you know? It was only a matter of time for them anyway. The pirates just sorta' sped the process up a bit. It's not like we really lost anything. . ."
"On the contrary-" Salem began, looking suitably insulted, but this time it was Huja who interrupted him.
"Perhaps you ought to continue with your story," he suggested to the Alchemist, "I'm interested to hear what the point of it is."
Sadam gave a little huff of annoyance. Was the Imam asking him to get to the point? Indeed! Wasn't that just the way of it? Folks spend so much time having adventures of their own that they lose all appreciation for it. Very well, Sadam decided, he wouldn't waste any more breath than was necessary on these ettins!* "I captured a cloud elemental over water. It confirms the imbalance I suspected (as such a fundamental should be impossible to collect in such a location) and provides new evidence toward the possible cause of the anomolies. I'd show it to you now, but I used it up in dispatching the pirates." He added a little 'Hmpf!' to the end for good measure, though to the others he was sure it must've sounded like a squeak, if they noticed it at all.
Sadam watched as the Imam nodded thoughtfully. So that was it. Even if they didn't hear the story of his adventure, then at the very least they now knew they he had enjoyed one. Let them just try to look down their oversized noses at him again. . .
"And the hole?" Huja asked.
Sadam sighed, letting his moment of glory pass by unfulfilled. "Let me have a look," he mumbled, fluttering down to the rim of the opening.
The others waited a moment as the pixie fuddled around with something at their feet. After another moment, there was a clapping sound, a flash, and a tiny wisp of smoke, followed by a distinct "Aha!" from the atomy.
Sadam took to the air, waving a miniature glass ball. "There, you see? You see?" he asked, brandishing it toward the uncertain onlookers who obviously could do nothing of the kind.
"See what?" Huja asked and squinted. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": The guildmasters embrace! ---------------------
*"ettin" in this case, is a rarely-used local Rajian term of the time period, used to refer to the uncultured or generally stupid. The terms origins should be readily apparent, and its meaning's reflection on the similarly-named race is mandatory.
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:52:40 GMT -5
Chapter Eight: The Guildmasters Part Five: Familiar Theory
"This," said the atomy's tiny voice simply. It came as a shrill whisper, as atomy's voices are prone to do, and it split the darkness gently, reflecting across the ears of its audience.
"And what is it?" Salem asked, growing somewhat impatient with the alchemist's lack of detail.
"It's a cloud fundamental," Sadam said, "And there is no possible way for us to be finding one here. We'd have to be floating in the air for... umm..." he trailed off. Where exactly was he, anyway? He knew this was somewhere in the Hand guild, but for all he knew, maybe the guild itself was actually suspended several miles above the ground. Given the Hands general tendency toward secrecy, he couldn't definitively rule that out. Still, he wasn't about to ask. Alchemist guildmaster or no, there are some questions you just didn't go asking of some people.
"So let's assume that we're not floating in the air," Huja suggested, saving his alchemist ally a great deal of effort in his explanation, "And this apparent hole is, in fact, located in the ground, what would that little ball imply about all of this?"
Sadam relaxed to a degree that was almost visible to non-atomy eyes, but before he could respond, Salem took over the explanation for him. "I believe," the arcanus said, "that cloud fundamentals are generally collected in the open air, correct? That would imply that this is indeed a hole that we are dealing with. Something that leads to a large quantity of open sky."
Sadam nodnodded vigorously. "Exactly," he said, "but not necessarily. Cloud fundamentals are also associated with illusion. It is possible that we are not seeing this hole at all, but that there is simply a projection of light from the ground here such that it would give the appearance of a cavernous gap in the floor. It is also possible that with repeated tests, I might obtain a number of varied elementals, suggesting some sort of chaos magic at work here, or at least magic that alters itself in line with a pattern that we cannot immediately recognize."
Salem stared, finding the explanation both not insightful as well as extremely familiar. "I believe I just offered an almost identical estimation of this phenomena to the Imam shortly before your arrival," he said, "though I note that I didn't need any crystal balls to lead me to it."
"Well, you may have provided a similar theory," Sadam retorted, "but I can provide evidence to back mine up! And if I recall correctly, my arrival consisted of-"
Salem looked as though he might have had something to say about this, but whatever it had been was drowned out, along with Sadam's little rant, by a sudden, rather dramatic sizzle.
Light flared up from the opening, scorching across the tunnel and illuminating the environment with a multicolored phantasm of energy. It held for a moment, rippling in peculiar ways and growing in intensity until, all at once, it vanished right back the way it had come.
There was a moment of silence following the vanishing of the light. To Sadam, the world seemed to have vanished into a giant, black blur. His eyes were the last to adjust, and when they finally did so, he found the others staring down at the floor, examining a hole that had now more than tripled its previous size.
"Well, how about that?" he muttered.
The Imam was the first to recover himself. "Well," he said, "I believe that was a suitably dramatic conclusion to this meeting. I'll leave you two to continue your investigation of this. In the meantime, I believe I have an apprentice whose training I have left sorely neglected." He gave a quick nod to Salem, who returned it. "You'll know where to find me," he added and disappeared into the shadows.
More silence.
"So now what?" Sadam asked. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": The mystic modern miracle of opium! ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:53:57 GMT -5
Chapter Nine: The Prophet Part One: Prayer
Colors swirled and shifted, then reverted once again into darkness. Useless. Khalid gave a long sigh as he brushed the empty bottles aside and floated out into the middle of the chamber, a small, dark- colored token clutched in each hand.
He was in his own room now, a space courteously provided in another back area of the cathedral. He had been there since the Imam had stripped the tattoo from his neck over a week ago. He had barely eaten in all that time, and he had drunk nothing but the dark, thick, (almost black) reddish-brown potions of hashish that had been provided to him. His body had been taxed, and his mind was on the brink of collapsing forever into the flurry of fading visions that had accompanied each dose of the soft, pernicious substance he imbibed.
Yes, there had been visions, but not true visions. Ordinarily, when a Hand partook of hashish, they were blessed first with a vision of the Paradise of Cyllyl, a vision that never lasted quite long enough. When it faded, there would be other, briefer visions- visions of strange places and events already in progress. Hands would gain snatches of knowledge about the present time in strange locations, but such snatches were rarely useful, usually involving insignificant things on unimportant worlds that are of little-to-no interest to them personally. Khalid's last vision was of a pale, wingless anakim sitting in a dark cavern, sucking on the neck of a beast he did not recognize.
True visions were of useful things, things not actually happening and usually with some symbolic interpretation that would be known only to the Imam. Such visions were not just a matter of seeing things. They could be distinguished from the others because when they happened, they felt real.
Khalid had wasted over a week now, seeing visions of no importance, as he swallowed vial after vial of hashish, content in his pride that he would be able to receive inspiration without guidance. It was time to set that pride aside now. He would pray, and he would try again, and perhaps then Cyllyl would show him the things that he needed. Perhaps she would guide his eyes to some place useful.
He raised the black rose before him. Prayers to Cyllyl were swift and simple. The rose was dropped and the entire prayer was muttered, quietly, before the rose had struck the floor. Khalid was unpracticed at such hurried prayers, but he was determined to have a try at them anyway.
He dropped the rose. It fell, slowly, and Khalid's lips remained motionless. Desperately, he sought for what he wanted, what he should say, and his fingers clenched around the waiting vial of hashish in his free hand. What could he say? What could he ask?
He stammered, and finally, right as the flower was about to land, a single, desperate word escaped his lips.
"Please-"
And it was over. Without hesitation, he raised the vial to his lips and drank deep, trusting his fate to Cyllyl. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Insignificant things on unimportant worlds of little-to-no interest to anyone. ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:54:39 GMT -5
Chapter Nine: The Prophet Part Two: A Clear Mind
The colors came, washing over his vision and obscuring it. For a moment, he was there, in a beautiful garden, surrounded by equally beautiful women who attended to his every need. Strange that he should be seeing this. He had not intended to focus his mind in the way of the haschishin in order to receive such a vision. Still, it was there for a moment anyway, and it pleased him.
Soon enough- too soon, as it always happened- he was gone from the gardens. The colors arose at the corners of his mind and took him away once again. It was not to a strange place on a strange world that his vision led him, however. When the colors faded, he was in the Hand Guild, in a corner of the training room, to be precise, where a pair of familiar looking anakim were practicing. It was Huja and his new apprentice.
Nihan was her name, wasn't it? Khalid remembered well the first time he had seen her, standing back behind the Imam in his chambers, pulling a flimsy robe about herself hastily, all her body flushed and dripping in sweat from her recent activity.
In the times he had seen her since then, it was obvious she was after another such evening with the Imam, and from the look of her now, she was still quite determined to get it. It was clear from the unnecessary bodily contact in her infighting, the way she flashed that smile at him a little more often than was necessary, and most especially from the way she looked at him secretly when he wasn't looking back in return.
It wasn't even lust, really- Khalid could tell from the glances she gave him, the way her eyes got distant and that little, half-smile would play across her lips- this girl was genuinely smitten with the Lord Imam, and she was secretly hoping for something much longer than an extra evening if she could manage it.
And good for her if she can get it, Khalid thought. It'll do ol' Huja some good, even if he is too proud to admit it. Producing an heir is a noble enough cause, to be sure, but what of raising one? The future Imam will need a mother and a father, and it will be so much easier for them to provide that if they can genuinely care for one another beforehand. There was no explaining such things to Huja, of course, not yet. For all his reliance on Reason. . . well, he had a tendency also to resist her from time to time. It was She who was the goddess, after all, not him. Save the perfect Judgment for those in Paradise.
The Imam himself, of course, was unreadable. At least, he was to everyone but Khalid, and maybe, ever so gradually, he was becoming a little more readable to Nihan also. Still, Khalid was not about to betray the Imam's wish for privacy in his own emotions. Let others wonder or discover those things for themselves.
And the vision changed. Colors returned and blurred. From the corners of his mind, Khalid was seized upon and was elsewhere.
Well, well, he thought, as the new vision came steadily into focus, what're you two gentlemen up to down here? --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Two men. Disturbing mental images. Shiny lights. A taco. ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:55:31 GMT -5
Chapter Nine: The Prophet Part Three: Holes and Lights
The scene was very brief: an image of Salem and Sadam crouched around a small hole, setting up some sort of apparatus. It faded quickly, and the colors took over again for a time, then the vision returned, the hole now larger and with no sign of the old apparatus. Again it faded, and again it returned, the hole now filling the entire width of the tunnel floor, stretching clear out to the walls, with even a bit of the walls themselves removed in its expansion. The two observers stood at the edge of it, looking into its depths with perplexity.
Khalid had not been informed of the recent developments in the lowest tunnels of the Hand Guild. No one had. He had also not been made aware of the Imam's instructions to Sadam and Salem to monitor and study the situation and report back on any developments or discoveries. Had he known, he might have understood better the developments that were taking place before his eyes.
As it was, he did not understand, only saw strange sights with an expanding chasm and unstable lighting. He did not understand that the apparatus had not disappeared down the hole or been removed as it expanded, but had, as far as either of the consulting magisters could discern, simply ceased to exist as the rock had. He did not understand how many sets of apparatus had disappeared before that last one. He did not realize how long the two had spent in the tunnel (days now) nor the fact that the tunnel they were now in was, in fact, several levels above the one in which they had started.
If he had understood all this, he may also have understood better the gravity of the events that soon followed.
Light flared across his vision, shifting rapidly in color and form and disguising all else. At first, Khalid thought the scene had ended, but the colors were not quite the same as those that the hashish brought. The light quickly faded, and Khalid saw Salem standing at the edge of the hole, shielding his eyes from the brightness. Sadam hovered just above the arcanus's shoulder, doing the same.
It took a few moments as their eyes adjusted before they understood what had happened. The hole in front of them was no bigger than it had been before. Had it begun to expand underneath them, they would have felt the earth slipping away and would have been able to step aside to avoid it safely. Instead, a new hole had formed, this one significantly larger than the previous one. The trouble now was that this new hole was located directly behind the two.
Atomy and arcanus gave one another significant looks upon examining the new opening. The land upon which the arcanus now stood was a narrow bridge of rock stretching between the two walls of the cavern. Beneath that ledge, there was nothing, and the nearest stable section of ground was a good twenty feet away to one side.
Salem looked concerned, yes, but not unduly so. His voice must have been calm as he addressed the alchemist, though Khalid could not hear exactly what the blue man was saying. Sadam gave him an uncertain nod, glancing down toward the anomaly that lay beneath them. Salem said something else, more urgent this time, and the atomy shook himself, giving a quick double nod and darting off along the vanishing passageway.
But what did it mean? Khalid puzzled. What was happening here?
The arcanus man's lips began moving slightly. Khalid would have tried to read his lips, but there was another flare of light, obscuring his vision. The light was then replaced by the ever-changing colors of the hashish, and the vision faded away for the last time, leaving the Jinn to ponder the latest scenes of his delirium in silence.
It seemed that the next scene would not appear for some time. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": An explanation. ---------------------
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Kereth
Storymaster
Because 'stabbity, stabbity, stabbity' is a punchline.
Posts: 222
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Post by Kereth on Aug 21, 2006 11:56:16 GMT -5
Chapter Nine: The Prophet Part Four: Meanwhile
When the colors finally faded, it was no longer a vision of secluded chambers within the Hand Guild that appeared to meet the Mullah's attention. Dark tunnels had been replaced with open sky. A whole world- very much like Raji, but with continents that arranged themselves quite differently- was spread out beneath him like the Sharan sands. Directly below lay a large city, shaped in a perfect square on a mountain top. To the southwest another city was being constructed, looking for all universe like a giant key. To one side of that, the land split off in a clustering of feudal townships, and the land between the two main cities seemed to still be marginally tamed, while the rest of the landscape. . .
The prophet's attention was distracted quite abruptly as a large, bleeding, humanoid bird came hurtling past his position in the air. Khalid was quite taken aback by the sight of it. Brightly colored beads and dyed feathers alongside primitive armor and a decorative, almost ceremonial leather shield blended well with the deep, crimson splotches that covered much of the creatures tattered form. It turned about, brandishing a spear that bore several, colorful charms dangling from its wooden point, and screeched loudly in a strange tongue that Khalid didn't recognize.
No sooner had it done so than another, slightly less injured being came plunging downward out of the air toward the first. It shrieked in return, flexing battered wings and brandishing its own spear. The two clashed. Blows were exchanged and shots taken one at the other, until the second bird-creature's spear found solid purchase in the flesh of the first and drove in deeply, embedding itself, and leaving the other being's shuddering form to go plummeting steadily earthward. The survivor let out another, fearsome cry across the heavens.
From somewhere distant, the cry was answered, and then another voice joined in with the first, then another and another. From another side, a new cry was heard, with many alien voices building up from behind it as well. The sky was filled with raucous bird calls, a thousand sounds with each one screaming for blood.
In both directions, hundreds of little shapes began to appear at a distance. The shapes grew and the cries did also, until the shapes had become a grand host of the birdlike creatures, each one dressed for battle. The hosts collided, spears ripping flesh and taloned limbs grappling in midair. The shrieks of pain and the cries of victory and blood lust became a cacophonous roar across the whole planet. Khalid shook himself, willing it to end. War, he had seen before. This was it, and it was madness. Here and there, a few flares of magic tore at the environment among the more mundane (yet effective) means of execution.
The jinn closed his eyes, but the visions remained. He prayed to Cyllyl to remove them.
Why this? Why this vision after the others? The others had almost made sense after a fashion. Surely, even if Khalid had not properly understood them, the events they portrayed had something to do with what was happening, didn't they? What had this to do with any of it?
Fortunately for Khalid, his plea was soon answered. The vision faded from his eyes, and a new one took its place.
Ah, he thought, as he saw what lay before him, now surely this I will understand. --------------------- Next time, on "Not Only Raji...": Understanding llamas. ---------------------
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