Lament of Vilarus (Part 6)

Vilarus's Retreat, afternoon (?), the library

With the polyps destroyed, things are quiet again. The Yeithari are solicitous, if alien hosts, though their medicinal gear is limited in its uses for 'bipeds' -- still, they do have bandages, and clean water is abundant, so patching up injuries is less of a problem than one might expect.

"We thought we sensed something, but..." One of the Yeithari makes a gesture that could be interpreted as a shrug. "That was a very disturbing sound though. I hope it was only the wind."

The other Yeithari is carefully paging through a book, having skimmed Magpie's memory of sildanyari before the attack. "Intriguing! The author speaks of the challenges in crafting a small-scale ecosystem. Apparently creating the plane was the easiest part of this endeavor." The Yeithari clacks its free pincer, an odd gesture signifying interest. "Could he have survived, even through the aeons?"

The Goblin's facial expression reads 'Just the wind... REALLY?', her eyes narrowing. "Wishful thinking... that was the aforementioned Guardian, no doubt. Or, those ... columns of mostly eyes and teef have bigger friends as backup. Either way, that was NOT the wind."

She huffs and shakes her head. "You lot have a lot to learn..."

Murder nods to the Yeithari. "Planes of existence are created by the greater Gods, and even they have issues with it. Life is both the toughest and tenacious thing in existence, and the most fragile and weak. Tough to stamp out, but dies if the humidity isn't in a precise range. Tough, but dies if it doesn't get a sunning rock." She shrugs. "I am not surprised a mere mortal had problems recreating a thing only Gods are usually capable of." She goes silent. "You best hope he's dead. There are few ways to extend one's life so far... one of them is lichdom. And if he's now a lich, we have a bigger problem than whatever made that noise just now."

Cor'ethil is breathing a little harshly after the fight, color (at least, what color Cor'ethil has) restored to his face thanks to Karasu's potion and his own healing. The paladin of Gilead blinks as the Yeithari discuss the sensations of wind and then the creation of the plane that they're in.

"A lich?" Corey shakes his head, chuckling a little. "I keep telling my twin sister, An, she needs to get into adventuring work. She's fascinated by liches. A little _too_ fascinated, if you ask me, but a girl's got to have hobbies." Gods forbid women do anything.

He turns to Karasu. "Are you okay, Nightingale?" he asks softly, making sure the other man's tended to.

Karasu nods to Cor'ethil. "I am well enough. I think you were more harmed by those creatures than was I." He is eyeing Cor'ethil's wounds quite seriously in fact. Though the other man has been largely healed and bandaged besides. "We should find a safe place and rest for a time. As best we can before something comes along to thrust us into more danger."

Roved Out in Planes Strange and Far.

Carver brushes out Deathless's coat after the fight, reasonably well-maintained. She did not suffer the blows of the abberant creatures, other than her heart being challenged by supernatural fear that came in their wake. Now that adrenaline's peaky energy is fading, she finds herself in a strange ennui; no closer to an answer than before.

"Becoming a lich isn't like you just follow a recipe and bake a cake. It follows bylaws both arcane and unholy, unique to each attempt, encompassing trials and expensive reagents. There would be more signs if this was the domain of one such as that."

"I mean, you kind of need a proper *temperament* to become a lich, too," Magpie ventures. "And I wasn't getting that from those images, *or* the greeter. He doesn't sound like the kinda guy who would say 'Screw the laws of man, god, and nature, I'M'A LIVE FOREVER.'"

As Karasu comments on safety, the gnome arches an eyebrow, turning her gaze over the library in general, and sighing. "...Yeah okay, this *ain't* the safest place for us to be... for the books anyway. Where were those living quarters, then?"

The Yeithari look at each other, perhaps puzzled. "We do not understand. What is 'lich'?" Well, there's a disturbing thought. The creatures are carefully reorganizing the books they had stacked on the tables, now that they have enough vocabulary to roughly translate. "Most of the texts here seem to be reference material, though it is quite extensive." One of the Yeithari offers, "Should you wish to salvage this demiplane, we would seek to barter for access to the tomes here."

At the mention of living quarters, the Yeithari look thoughtful. "There is a large domicile not far from here. We saw it on our way in. You could rest there. It is clearly of some importance, judging from its construction."

"They are undead creatures with immense magical powers. Some wizards or powerful magic users use undeath as a means to escape the ravages of time and their own deaths. It is abhorrent."

Murder cants her heads to one side and then looks to the others. "Do we dare sleep in ... a place of some importance?"

Cor'ethil seems to be about to recall all the things he's ever learned about liches from his twin sister infodumping about them. Then Murder provides a succinct answer. "They typically have a soul cage of some kind that they hide their soul in. It's a necklace, a box... My mother said she once encountered one who surgically implanted his soul cage into the shoulder of his mortal servant." He winces at the memory.

"I'm okay now, I promise, thanks to your potion." Corey smiles sweetly at Karasu, knowing exactly the sort of worry-wart he can be in private--even if Karasu would very much object to such a label being affixed to him. (Karasu's kitsune ancestor would likely come up with worse nicknames that truly exasperate the quiet assassin. Cor'ethil's been in the front-row Theatre District seats for those.)

"I think we're going to have to," Cor'ethil responds to Murder's question, even if he doesn't look completely happy about it. "We can't exactly leave easily now, and... shelter is still shelter. Even if you do it at a shrine in the middle of the wilderness... Gilead and Dana will let you stay so long as you leave a couple of coins or something else in offering." He smiles at the mention of his god.

"We have the village that we came from, and where our supplies are." Karasu remarks, reminding everyone of the existence of both things. "We should return there and then investigate this other location once we have had a chance to recuperate from this most recent encounter."

Indeed, Karasu would not know what to do with being called a worry-wart or some other such nickname. The only one that he has ever known what to do with is the one that Cor'ethil has given him. That name he wears proudly, and with a touch of affection for the paladin of Gilead.

Carver does not chime in, nor spoken to. So she just listens idly as she hand carves an apple to share between herself and Deathless. Right, the wagon. One can only hope wasn't destroyed or ramsacked that would be terribly awkward for all of them.

"Probably the best option we have," Magpie says around a shrug. "Definitely don't wanna be camping out under the sky if those things decide they haven't had enough... Brrr."

Shuddering, she tilts her head at the Yeithari's offer. "I mean, I certainly wouldn't mind discussing that! But maybe later; it's been a long trip for us, and we need to find *some* place to drop our gear so we can really get started."

Upon returning to the wagon, it's clearly been undisturbed. Hooking it up to Deathless, the party makes its way to the quarters pointed out by Reeve. With the supplies cached there, it's almost a decent home.

It's interesting to watch the evening 'cycle' -- it's hard to call it 'nightfall' -- commence. As the 'sun' descends to what Reeve called 'duskside', stars appear in the sky. The constellations look -mostly- like Ea's night sky, though there are some minor differences. Perhaps even the night sky can change over a thousand years.

But the 'night' passes without incident or interruption, and soon enough the 'sun' is rising over the Retreat once again. It's a reasonably good imitation of dawn, though it's no patch on the real thing.

GAME: Corey refreshes spells.

GAME: Karasu refreshes spells.

GAME: Murder refreshes spells.

GAME: Magpie refreshes spells.

GAME: Carver refreshes spells.

Murder sleeps soundly, enough that even when she's rolled over (she snores like a chainsaw), she does not stir. As the 'sun' begins to rise, the snoring stops with a yawn, and lengthy stretch. Scratching her neck, she slowly rises.

Her stomach gurgles noisily, and she begins to root around her backpack. A variety of things are quickly inhaled; nuts, dried fruits, several sips of water from her skin, and an entire, whole orange including the peel. She spends several minutes chewing on it before she swallows.

Carver is slow to fall to slumber's call, watching out the window at the sky's uncanny imitation of the world's circadian rythm.

The sun's slow crawl and the night blanketing the world in cool twilight and twinkling stars. She refuses a bed and instead almost seems to prefer harder floors and bedrolls. She sings softly to Deathless in the dark, low moody and Dranish, until thet too fades and she dreams.

Her morning is quiet as she straps back on her gear. No warpaint today.

It was, predictably, almost *impossible* for Magpie to sleep. So many observations to record! So much to document about the Yeithari and the Polyp People! Frantic sketches of the night sky, to compare against the sky back home... there are arcanists whose entire field of study was astronomy, and Magpie cannot *wait* to consult with them! So many experts to consult about questions!

So in fact she ends up passing out over her notebook, candle left to gutter itself into darkness.

As 'dawn' breaks, Magpie stirs to wakefulness, with no few popping joints as she pushes her book aside, crawls to her feet, and stretches as hard as possible. Then, she starts to explore the kitchen... But the rest of the party seems to be skipping a proper breakfast in favor of getting on the road, and with a shrug, Magpie follows suit.

Cor'ethil finds a safe place for he and Karasu to have some modicum of privacy, even if they're not getting up to the kinds of activities that married couples do. He's almost always the first to fall asleep (Karasu does not generally sleep until he does), and this particular instance is no exception. Especially with the song of Carver's song to Deathless...

He dreams of his mother singing him to sleep, and when he wakes up, there's that soft emotional pang that it likely will never be ever again. His mother's a very busy woman now, and a whole plane away, rather than an airship ride away.

But then he sees Karasu, kisses his husband on the cheek good morning, and then gets prepared to start the day, opting for a quick bite of rations rather than breakfast.

Karasu, if he slept, was perhaps the last to do so, and the first to rise. Waking even before the morning 'dawned'. Either way he doesn't look like it bothered him one way or the other, though he hovers ever near to Cor'ethil, the two being quite inseparable. The xian man eats sparingly of the provisions that he and Cor'ethil brought with them, tasting everything that Cor'ethil eats before the other man has a chance to try it for himself.

Karasu is ready then well before everyone else to leave, and watching the others gather around, he nods once before stepping out of the house they'd slept in and making toward the 'important' building that had been mentioned the day before.

The walk is uneventful. But what's disturbing is how quiet it is. No ghostly moans, no attacks from flying pillars of random flesh... footsteps echo off the buildings and there's a distinct sense of isolation.

Soon enough, the party stands before the 'important building'. And it appears yes, it was important -- and might still be.

A small waist-high fence surrounds a patch of dead earth in front of the building -- clearly a house, designed in an elegant style mixing both old Eldanar and sildanyari influences. Inscribed on the archway over the doors is the name 'Vilarus'.

Sprawled next to the open gate is something that looks like a large stone statue, as though it was a body left out in the street carelessly.

GAME: Karasu rolls Knowledge/Military Theory: (12)+14: 26

GAME: Corey rolls Knowledge/Military Theory: (16)+24: 40

Murder makes up for the silence with a thousand an done questions.

"Anyone notice how quiet it is? Do you think he had like.. birds? Insects?"

"I wonder how those fleshy pillars of moistly teeth and eyes got here. Think they accidentally teleported here? Or uh, maybe they might have been what killed Vilarus? And like.. do those things breath through their mouths or like... are there noses hidden somewhere?"

"Anyone have any dreams while we were sleeping? I did. It felt like I kept rolling over and over and over all night."

The Goblin oohs and aws at the house as they approach it, and then suddenly draws her blade. She approaches the statue cautiously, and then prods it in the adds with the point of her blade. "You alive?", she asks.

Karasu pays little mind to the statue, particularly once it fails to respond to being poked. He instead makes his way to the front door without any commentary or answering a single of Murder's many, many questions. He'll leave the conversation to his husband, if Cor'ethil decides to have one. He keeps a weather eye out for more flying monsters, but otherwise is less concerned about being ambushed in an area so wide-open.

Cor'ethil doesn't like silence. This is a thing that has occasionally put him at odds with Karasu, who is as silent as they come, but that also means Karasu is content to be quiet and listen to Cor'ethil explain the highlights of sildanyari romance epics (half-remembered from his younger years) while Karasu is tending to the poison garden or other hobbies around the house. But the silence becomes a natural thing as he looks around.

"It's too open for an ambush," he tells the group. "The dead trees--as few as they are--don't make for great cover. So... We're probably not getting hurt any time soon."

GAME: Magpie rolls knowledge/arcana: (10)+17: 27

"Not at the moment," Magpie says, coming up behind Murder. "I mean, it *is* a golem, but maybe deactivated. So like... watch where you poke, Iunno what the trigger is if it's still able to guard... What is pretty obviously Vilarus' own house, here."

Crouching down next to the prone golem, Magpie does a closer examination, perhaps to determine what would be *needed* to reactivate it. Repairs? A spell? Coffee? "The Polyp folk... probably got here the same way the Yeithari did; they *live* in the weird spaces of the planes, probably they just got close, something smelled good, and they wanted a bite, y'know?"

GAME: Karasu rolls Perception: (7)+20: 27

The golem fails to respond to any stimulus. Indeed, it seems to be nothing more than a particularly well-crafted, articulated stone statue at a casual glance. It appears to have simply fallen over, 'dead' (or whatever qualifies).

The front door is unlocked, and lacks any sign of traps or other defenses. There is a half-scribed rune on the door, but it seems burned out and dead as well.

'I dreamt a little.'. Carver admits without much garnish, considering the golem before giving a dismissive snort when everyone determines it to be little more than powerless decor.

She follows on cat's paws, without sound or footprint.

Silently Karasu holds up a hand urgently, his dark eyes flashing. He signs something to the group. "Music." One word, but it means quite a lot. Not a lot of creatures make music, and it's quiet enough that he can hardly hear it himself. It could be some sort of magic of course, but it's better to be safe and warn everyone of the possibility of danger than to leave them unprepared. "No traps."

"Well, there's no accounting for what magic can do. Invisible servants, assassins, and so on. But it is not favorable for a uh... visible monster attack.", Murder says in response to Corey.

"A deactivated Goblem? Maybe it's just out of juice? Or shut down after realizing Vilarus was dead?", shw wonders of Magpie. "And uh... smelled something good and wanted a bite? So this little plane is not as hidden as Vilarus realized? Or does it smell so heavily of magic it's like moths to flame?"

The Goblin nods to Carver. "What'd you dream about? Anything weird?"

Cor'ethil blinks when Karasu signals 'music'. He says (softly), for those who don't sign, "Karasu's hearing music. Be careful."

He draws his rapier, and he concentrates for a moment... Then he breathes out. It's almost a sigh of relief. Almost. The memory of his mother's singing lingers in his head, and there's the brief thought that maybe it's related. "No evil," he says. At least that's a comfort.

'Apple trees and the things buried beneath,' Carver answers. She will not get to expound on that with the warning from the Prince's Raven Cupbearer and the Prince's explanation. Music. Hmm.

"So okay," Magpie says to Murder, winding up for what is clearly a small lecture on her subject of expertise.

"You can *hide* planar pockets like this, but like... There's only so much you can do. The weird things we were fighting... and the Yeithari, honestly... are born in the Ethereal Plane, like we are in the Material. And the Ethereal plane is like... The space *between* all the planes, like hollows in the walls of a house. Places like this, you build *inside* the Ethereal plane, so it's like if Carver went out into the forest and made a hidden two-story lodge in the trees. You'd probably never find it unless you knew exactly what you were looking for... but you can still *accidentally* run facefirst into something you didn't expect to be there, and explore. Accidentally's the *only way* I can imagine anyone finding this place without having the clues; it's *too stable,* and there's just *no* leakage that'd draw anything here."

That said, she draws in a deep breath. "So let's go see what's making that music!"

Carver says, “I actually do not like forests. That is a sterotype.”

The door creaks open, and the foyer beyond is littered with papers. Absolutely covered. Inspection reveals they are all neatly scribed inquiries for approval of various repairs, reminders for requisitions, or alerts about various problems. The ones lying closest to the door are notifications of visitors, the last actually having a legible date on it (yesterday, in fact).

The music is a soft, haunting melody. Corey immediately recognizes it as an old sildanyari tune, dating back... well, over a thousand years. The mansion is clean, but it feels sterile, lifeless, with fading furniture and long-empty pots for plants. There's a sense of foreboding as you follow the tune, until you reach a parlor. Pushing the door open...

Even after a thousand years, there's no denying the furnishings here are, or were, of high quality. But time has worn them done, stolen their bright hues and vivid colors. The window is open, a faint breeze stirring the air. The music comes from a small box on a table, fitted with a gemstone that glows softly. As the song comes to an end, the gem pulses once, and then it begins to play once more.

For in truth, the music box is not playing for you, but for a skeletal form slumped on a couch, bony hands crossed over his chest. Flesh has gone the way of the grass, leaving behind only bone, but the faded robes are familiar, indeed. You saw them the other day, in an image, when this man was still hale and hearty.

It seems you have found the archmage Vilarus, but he can give you no answers.