Mistakes Happened
Log Info
- Title: Mistakes Happened
- Emitter: Jinks
- Place: Market District
- Summary: Mistakes the Inevitable is in the Market District and is determined to get a parade. Unfortunately for the arbiter, the adventurers that show up nearby when Mistakes opines about the lack of an honorary parade seem to be a mixture of skeptical and cautious. However, Mistakes gives a warning that may be of great use... but first, someone, or some people, are going to have to go into the Sewers to get a note Mistakes dropped.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Elyanna 5'11" 153 Lb Half-Orc Female A grim, Arvek-blooded woman in raven feathers. Gramarye 6'10" 320 Lb War Golem Female A golem girl with obsidian eyes and bronze plating. Jay 5'9" 145 Lb Eaglefolk Male A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye. Shilde 4'4" 160 Lb Khazad-Aul Female Tall for a dwarf, long blonde hair in a thick braid, big blue eyes. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
It's odd that a city so overful can manage at times to feel like a ghost town. This particular corner of the markets does just that, though, as the semi-permanent and entirely-temporary stalls and carts have been cleared away in preparation for the block to become another of the city's growing number of refugee camps.
The cobblestones have been given a good wash, brushing, and rinse. Scattered slabs are still dark and glitter in the moonlight beneath a cloudless sky. Small grates and covers to the sewers were pulled up and cleaned, too, to facilitate draining once people settle in with their assorted fluids.
There's a light breeze carrying the ghosted sounds of distant revelry from the Fernwood blocks away. The last of the workman's carts depart to the heehaws of disgruntled asses dragging squeaky wheels.
Two pair of guardsman quit the space, too, and leave to end their shifts or go on patrols.
A fifth remains behind, bleary-eyed and annoyed as she leans against the pike she holds into her shoulder with folded arms. She's doing everything to ignore the floating, metallic orb that's keeping her company. The floating metallic orb with tiny metallic wings that issue intermittent squeaks and a constant ft-ft-ft-ft-ft. They've been supervising. Or, at least, they haven't been helping and not doing any of the heavy-lifting.
There's a very large bronze mannequin out at the Market District today.
No, wait, that's not a mannequin. She's moving far too much to be a mannequin, after all, and the mechanical sounds that come from her walking about suggest she's not some wizard's sick and twisted experiment with awakening spells, but rather a construct. Either way, the bronze mechanical woman is walking around with a wicker basket full of various doodads that's topped off with a bouquet of flowers--daffodils and sunflowers.
One blue-jay egalrin lawyer, Integrity C Truefeather, esquire, the 'C' is for crowds, has been flapping about and meeting refugees, inquiring if they require any l-eagle assistance. Paperwork filled out, documents explained, claims tabulated.
Refugees might have a lot of causes to take up with the local authority, and protector of the people, or at least, counsel for the defense Mr. Truefeather is here to help.
Or, stir up some dust.
Shiny, orb-like things immediately draw his attention. There's the guard and her floating ball thing, and the mannequin with flowers. He ponders, then picks the guard. "Hello! Hi. Hi! What's that? Is it a clockwerk animal companion? A guard messaging device?"
Having been... er... afield for some while, and thus out of synch with even her previously minimal familiarity with the city's rythm, a red figure shrouded in raven black enters the boundries of the district.
Beneath the feathers, slender fingers clutch habitually about a hilt, whilst Elyanna makes her way about with her hood drawn up, noting with consternation that things are seemingly in flux.
The spectacle of constructs, both airborne and apothecarial, her steel eyes wash about them with more scrutiny before the former's companionship of a Guard diverts her immediate concern.
For...
Reasons.
Misunderstandings, one could say, but still it gives her a subtle tingle of wariness.
Shilde wasn't here yet. She had no part in setting up this block in preparation of the refugees, though she had gotten wind of it happening. No, she's here now precisely because it is a ghost town of sorts. Errands in the city ran her late, and now she's decided she's too tired to make the journey back to the grove.
So, naturally, instead of looking for an inn, she's decided to rough it by finding a quiet corner of the city to sleep in. Too bad there's a guard still here and...
The dwarf stops, her eyes narrowed, her hand going to Rocky's shoulder. "Sandstone and fool's gold," she mutters when she sees the floating orb.
+-- and so the purpose of the great labyrinthine--+ The machine seems to be talking as folks draw close enough to hear. The guard is trying very hard NOT to hear and her eyes go a little wide with incredulity at the appearance of things for her accompaniment to engage. There's a switch-up in the tempo of the wings as the orb cants to one side and spins to stare at Jay with its single mechanical eye.
+EXCUUUUUSE ME!?+ The voice is a weird one; very, very familiar and with the sort of accent you might think of as 'no accent.' It sounds like home. Which might be welcome, alarming, or a combination of both!
A little crab claw-like hand at the end of a jointed, spindly rod comes up to poke in an accusatory gesture at the egalrin. +ANIMAL companion? Ha! That's rich! Bird-man.+ Both spindly arms come up and bend so it can pantomime wings.
Nevermind that it actually has wings. +Messaging device? I WILL HAVE-- actually..? I guess that's appropriate. So you're off the hook for that one.+
+BUT!+ It lifts both arms up and out, spinning again to the tune of ftftftftft. +I message for no guard! I message for a HIGHER POWER!+
The watchman rolls her eyes behind the splayed fingers holding her face. "Y'got lost in the sewers fer a month and brought your 'important warning' too late..."
+A HIGHER POWER!+ the orb reiterates.
Seyardu, being a cleric of Althea, had somewhat of a duty to understand the city, so that she might better understand the needs of the people in it. Which was all a fancy way of saying sometimes she sent her evenings wandering the streets when she felt lie it. This was one of such days that found herself in the areas, and surprised how relatively quiet it was despite the influx of refugees.
She stops to regard those present, offering them all a small wave, and what passed for a smile as a sith-makar. "Celestial mother's light on your paths, and a pleasant evening to you all." She greets.
GAME: Seyardu rolls knowledge/the planes: (13)+5: 18
The bronze mannequin stops in her tracks. Her head pivots in that mechanical way out in the direction of the machine orb. She stays like that for a moment longer, seeming to assess the situation.
And then she marches up to the orb with seemingly no concern for the guard that's stationed next to the machine.
"Inquiry: what higher power are you referring to?" comes a pleasant, if robotic, young woman's voice. The bronze faceplate on the mannequin is made lovingly to resemble the shape of a young woman's face, but the mouth does not move. Instead, a light flickers to life in her black eyes, waxing and waning with each syllable before the eyes fall silent with the end of her sentence.
"Oh! Oh. Sorry. Sorry." Integrity squawks, looking at the guard then back at the orb, "Messenger for a higher power in a lower place."
He waves a wing at Seyardu, then nods to Gramaye's question, "Which power? The God of Plumbing? There's a god of plumbing in Alexandria, right?"
Elyanna's pace abates in staggered increments as the convergence begins. She glances about and alters course a touch thus to arc in a more widening berth for the congealing group.
"No." Shilde seems to be talking to her dog companion, who in turn is whining at her and pulling towards the group gathering about the planar messenger. "No! Ye daft dummy dog. Ain't nothin' t'be gained talkin' t'that halfwit, buzzin' directionless contraption," she insists, but Rocky pulls away from her and bounds towards the group. Which is possibly a terrifying thing to see. Rocky looks like he weighs in at several hundred pounds. "Oh, fer... so's t'be one of those days." Shilde starts tromping towards the group as well.
+NAVOS!+ The flying eye contraption-looking-thing answers. You might've heard it as 'the Historian' or 'Father of Time' or 'the Spinner of Fate' or 'the Raven,' etc etc. The fancy way this thing talks it's sure to be Understood. The orb bobs to one side and then the other, swooping down to inspect Gramarye more closely. +I am very important and you should be impressed.+
"Y'said he wasn't your boss." The armored woman shakes her head and looks at each of the growing crowd. "He... it? It works for someone who works for someone who works for someone who works for someone--" she untangles one thickly-gloved hand to wave it in the air in a 'tedious ad infinitum' implication but is interrupted by the orb turning on her and waving claws back and forth.
+BUP-BUP-BUP! You mortals get hung up on the unimportant details.+ He swivels back around and uses one claw to scratch the top of its spherical shape. +I am a great font of information, you see.+
Two curved plates like decorative eyelids pull back wide and it tilts to look heavensward. Spindly arms hold wide and slightly-bent at the joint. +FOR INSTANCE... did you know that this city's ruler is not named Alex Sandria?+ It rolls back forward and points to each and all with a +hmm!?+ and a slightly narrowing of the eye.
+Also, this city has the most expansive waste water system. Have you been down there? It's absurd in scope. You could be sent on urgent business and get lost for a MONTH!+ It jabs a claw towards one of the smaller openings in the floor of the square. +And the things that live down there? My understanding of sewers is it's just supposed to be the filthy stuff your bodies turn into food!+
+Except for you, probably--+ it flies closer to Gramarye again.
"Ah, yes! This is just like that device, or mechanical creature Verna has with her. It's a being from another plane that often serves as a messenger or emissary, or observer, often in the service of Navos or other higher beings." Seyardu seems to speak up. "An arbiter, this type is called. What is it you have come to tell us then, please? I would be happy to hear it if you are able to share."
Feeling the advisory of the expansive sojourns to the sewers, the red woman sighs inwardly, but feels obliged to advise, "It is also crawling with gelatinous cubes the size of a cottage." in a level tone.
Her fingers slacken a touch from Maidenhead but not enough to forsake her, though the steel eyes sweep about the group for signs of anyone getting twitchy.
"I try not to go there." The bluejay says, tilting his head to examine the orb, "I heard it's so dangerous only well equipped, experienced adventurers are capable. It sounds over-designed for its purpose, a special forces team shouldn't be necessary every time a privy plugs up."
Integrity is however, a lawyer, not a wastewater engineer. There are sensible reasons he wouldn't understand.
"So, Big Eye, is your name an unimportant detail?" The egalrin is hung up on that. He looks at Seyardu, "Oh, it's 'Arbiter' then."
Gramarye stares impassively at the orb. It's easy for her to do, as she doesn't move. Doesn't need to. Her eyes flicker back to life after a long moment of this staring.
"Acknowledged. Requesting your designation to file away into memory banks for future usage in social conversations and/or magical rituals."
Then there's a beat. "Social protocol indicates that I share my designation as well in kind. I am Grace Reason Amity Miracle August Revelry Young Earnest--designation GRAMARYE. It is a pleasure to meet you." The last sentence has a surprising amount of emotion that was clearly rehearsed and copied from someone else speaking it.
Shilde finally reaches the group, shortly after Rocky the big shaggy dog, who has fallen back on his haunches to grin doggily up at the Arbiter. "Uff. Oi. What are ye even still here for, gear-brain?" she asks the winged construct. Arbiter. "Ye gived yer warnin'. Don't ye got a boss t'report back to?"
"'Mistakes,'" the guard chimes in, deadpan, because of course it would be called that. "'Mistakes the Inevitable.'" She sighs, heavily, and looks sympathetically to Shilde. It's the same guard. The same, poor, saddled guard. This is her life now, apparently.
+Ah, well! You see! AHEM!+ The claws come up and clank-clank-clank as it pantomimes smoothing down the plates of its spheroid body. +When I arrived something went awry and I was in the sewers. First trip to the PMP and--+ it somehow manages to make an annoyed raspberry sound without a tongue-- +stuck between grimy stonework above and poos below. And there are no maps down there!+ It throws its arms straight up in indignation.
+And-- and yes! Those big cubey acid things. Are you kidding me? Trying flying away from those, lost, forever. Terrible...+ The singular eye rolls like an annoyed, smooth steel marble.
+Then YOU PEOPLE decided it would be clever to seal off your city from the plane-o-verse (yes, peoplei call it that) so I couldn't get any help...+ It shrugs. +I was supposed to tell the People In Charge that the wights were coming to Alexandros.+ It clears the throat it doesn't have. +Awhile ago.+
"Well that you do not." the cloaked woman replies, her silted Trade tinged for being tertiary at best, "Recent ventures beneath have involved a murderous Ogre and ill considered explosives ere we encountered the cubes."
Elyanna considers the crowd for the third time as the Orb speaks anew, "Apparently, some trespasses forced a more heavyhanded approach."
Jay simply bobs in place, listening, finally saying, "oh a wight warning right on time would have been very helpful."
His head snaps over towards Elyanna, and he stares at her a little bit, before looking back at the guard, "So, why are you guarding the Arbiter Eye?"
There's a blink of light in Gramarye's eyes as the arbiter identifies itself. "I see," she replies. "Were you designated as Mistakes the Inevitable because your creator deemed you were a mistake?"
It's delivered in a flat manner, but it might as well be a guided magic missile strike.
The sleepy-looking woman looks at Jay pointedly, then looks up at the floating eye. Then back at Jay. Then up to the eye. Then back to Jay.
She quirks an eyebrow.
+You say that like it's a BAD thing!+ The arbiter wags a claw at Gramarye. +Mistakes HAPPEN. What, you'd rather Death or Taxes come to find you? 'Oh, hooray, the mouthpiece of NAVOS called 'Death' is here. Surely he has GOOD NEWS.'+ It waves its arms in mock enthusiasm. +'Roll out the band!'+
+Hey now... I never got my parade!+ The messenger accuses, swiveling again to point at the guard in accusation.
The guard just glares at Jay. As if this is his fault.
"We did not decide anything, unlike the plane where I believe you come from, we are not a consensus of opinions agreed upon by the populace at large." Seyardu states calmly. "Very well, your warning is appreciated, though it is unfortunate that you were not available to deliver is sooner. That does not mean it is without worth, however. For one thing, how did you come across this information, and how do you know about what is happening? Any information about what you know would still be of help to many people."
Shilde does have to give the 'bot that as she nods with Elyanna's description of a typical trip into the sewers. When Jay refers his next question to the guard, Shilde winces. The druid may have played a small part in getting the guard assigned to the Arbiter, and she does cast an apologetic glance the guard's way. Of course, an apologetic look from a dwarf usually comes across as just looking weird. And possibly slightly worrying. But back to the matter at hand. "Or better yet..." Shilde adds, following up on Seyardu's comment, "Ye could jus' fly out've the city, ye know."
"Mistakes cost organic lifeforms their lives," Gramarye informs the arbiter. "However, it appears that your designation does suit your function, as you made a mistake in not informing the populace sooner and therefore have cost organic lifeforms their lives."
But the mannequin doesn't stop there. "Does your creator plan on addressing this weakness in your protocol with a modification to your protocols and/or your framework? Father always sought to better my frame and teach me protocols to better handle the world around me."
"You know I could look over your creation and employment contract to see if there are any clauses that allow you to refuse arbitrary modification." Integrity chirps hopefully. Work! At last!
Ouch.
Elyanna glances sidelong to the bronze construct skewering the Outsider Orb for a moment, then settles into a contemplative silence.
Better to absorb the flow of information without interrupting it needlessly.
+It's not MY mistake!+ Mistakes harumphs, beating its wings harder to gain altitude and back away from the war golem. +I can't travel from EQUILIBRIUM to the PMP on my own! I was SENT!+ It flails its arms in exasperation only to deflate and let them dangle, rolling forward with its upper "eyelid" drooping. +... I really tried to find a way out.+
Ft-ft-ft-ft-ft-ft.
"It's worried Heth's agents will try to find him if he leaves to city to go home." The guard chimes in, rubbing the heel of her palm roughly against her eye. She stifles a yawn and looks at Seyardu. "Apparently it has cousins called Merits that keep an eye on big undead-happenings. Somethin' about 'cosmic law.' Life'n death."
+Marut.+ The arbiter corrects. It 'inhales' and rises up in the air, floating back down as it 'exhales.' +If NAVOS wants to modify me when I return I'm happy to serve His will. Maybe a little backpack like you mortals are so fond of so I don't have to memorize what's important to this specific information. It's hard when you know SO MUCH.+ It's picking up steam again.
+It honestly would've been a lot easier if your sewer exits were clearly marked,+ it opines. +Then you would've known that the undead were coming and about Heth's agents inside the city before that all came to a head.+
"Oh, okay." Integrity's feather crest lowers as there seems to be no legal repercussions, then it pops right up again, "Wait, what?"
"There are Heth's agents in the city? Where? What do they look like?"
Shilde has covered her face with her hand by this point, but at mention of agents in the city, she splays her fingers enough to peer at Mistakes with one eye between the digits. "Say what now?" she echoes Jay.
Gramarye continues to regard the arbiter, not moving a muscle again. "I see," she says after a long moment. "So you are here for an indefinite period of time and will continue to cause mistakes, as per your purpose and designation. I request that you not go near the Ilife Smithy. Father's safety protocol was to reduce mistakes to a minimum, and I will follow his directives so that I do not see children losing their father as well. The organic lifeforms that I work with must not lose their lives prematurely to mistakes."
There's a blink in her eyes, as well, regarding the agents of Heth. "Please provide correct and accurate information if you are capable of giving information according to such parameters regarding the agents of Heth so that I may dispense them to others, Mistakes the Inevitable."
"Then you should ask the person or thing who sent you here to use a better divination focus next time for the purpose of shifting between planes." Seyardu states. "If you have a way of returning home however, then I can escort you outside of the gates to an area where you can return to equilibrium. If you have a tuning fork on you, then I can do so myself."
"I am not surprised to begin with. It seems that this city will attract all sorts who will act outside of their own best interests for small gains." The silver makari sighs. "This information is invaluable, and should be shared. Though, not to too many people or they may just go into hiding after being found out. Are they intelligent undead, or human worshipers?"
The Keeper's eyebrow arches as she catches that part, and she wonders, "Can you not have escort from a temple? Perhaps those of the Pale Eye?"
Beneath the cloak, as no one has yet taken energetic objection to her presence, the hand finally relinquishes it's grip upon Maidenhead and her arms fold loosely about her midriff, instead.
The bluejay looks around at the gathered adventurers, then back at the guard. His head makes another circuit. His beak opens and closes as a thought stalls before being verbalized. He fluffs and refolds his wings.
"Yeah... I guess I wouldn't ask us to provide security and I'm not the best at it so I wouldn't volunteer." He makes his judgement.
"If you want help writing a contract, to hire OTHER adventurers, I can help with that! I do contract work all the time!" Jay chirps with eagleness. Eagerness.
+Wait-wait-wait!+ The wings begin to beat quickly on Mistakes and its lids widen. +You didn't know THAT!? Ha!+ The arbiter's arms come up triumphantly. +AH-HA-HA-HAAAA! I will get my parade!+
"Hmph," the guard responds, unimpressed. "If you got what you say you got and it actually does some good I'll dance in the street playing a pan-flute in my smallclothes." She's dubious for whatever reason.
+Make sure your pan-flute is appropriately polished and bombastic in its soundings!+ The extraplanar minion challenges, pointing a claw. +I HAVE THE DETAILS IN A NOTE!+ It holds up an empty claw, squinting a single-eyeball-smile. After a moment it moves its empty claw to directly in front of its eye. It issues another 'hmmm.'
Finally: +PREPARE YOUR CONTRACT, BIRD-MAN! THERE IS AN IMPORTANT NOTE IN THE SEWERS!+
Gramarye inspects the arbiter for a moment longer.
"Your designation is, in fact, fitting of your function, which is to not function at all. I suggest returning to your creator immediately and petitioning him for an upgrade to your protocols and framework, as you cannot continue to function and produce quality work in your current state," Gramarye says. "Father would not tolerate such behavior from a construct. Unfortunately for you, he is no longer available to perform repairs and upgrades, and therefore is unable to assist you in this matter."
The bronze construct draws her wicker basket close. She looks like she's about to leave when...
A blink in Gramarye's eyes. "Error. No recorded message for an unsatisfactory social encounter. Fallback protocol initiating. -- Thank you for choosing the Ilife Smithy for your needs. Unfortunately, we are unable to process your request at this time. Please call back later."
And so the bronze mannequin departs--off in the direction of the smithy for some late night work, presumably.
"No." Shilde says. "No," she repeats, but Rocky seems to be excited. He rises up to four legs, and even.. prances.. a little bit. "No!" she says again, this time directly to her dog, and she even takes a half-hearted swing at him. Which he easily dodges. Then she pleads. "No. Not in there. Not again."
There's a happy squawk, a flapping of wings that sets a few feathers flying, a flurry of motion and then Integrity C. Truefeather is perched at a tiny desk which moments ago was his oft overlooked briefcase. It has legs that fold down, a spot for an inkwell, and a sudden sheaf of papers on it.
"Okay! Sewer Expedition Contract, For one Mistakes, Arbiter Eye of Navos, to retrieve an important Note." Jay hasn't started writing yet, he's preparing. "Is this a standard contract at guild rates, a 'Death Conceivable' one with extra pay. Is it rated porcelain, copper, silver, gold, platinum?" He flips through the papers, "Probably not platinum, that's saving the whole world contract."
"Oh, and how much is important." He briefly watches Gramarye depart, then turns back to the eye.
"You do not have the paper, and you did not commit it to memory?" The silver sith-makar asks.
It was an incredible blessing in some ways as a makari that her voice offered no inflections for any anger or frustration.
"That can not be allowed to fall into their hands, as unpleasant folk can often live in the sewers to hide from authorities. Not that all who do so are. But I am digressing. I will pool together a reward for the expedition if I find myself unable to do so myself. And doing so will make it much less obvious the nature of the expedition, as I would not wish too many people to know that there are suspected cultists or undead hiding in the city at the moment."
"While it would be good if people worked out of the goodness of their hearts, I know that ammunition and supplies for such things are not cheap. And some people just need the proper motivation, which in many cases is a sizeable payment."