like tigers in the night, so stealthy
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

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#1
WESSEX
the wraith
she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
They’ve waited long enough, and there is much, much to be done; it will be easier to juggle when they know all their tasks (at least make a list, which is more or less what keeps the Queen on task these days, given a lack of a personal assistant). Back to her old ways, she sends a mental note to those who volunteered themselves for a special task: Neron, Mara, Amun, and Evelyn, all people she thinks she can trust to keep this secret. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know that Nate has his eye back now, otherwise she would have included him.

While she doesn’t know exactly where to go, there is the assumption that the cold backdrop where she saw the Machine is somewhere in the Fangs - after all, it is the only cold place the Wraith knows. Asking the group to come to the Fang’s shrine the next night - secretly, if at all possible - Wessex will meet them there so they can begin the task.
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah
Amun Arlun
Potter

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#2
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun arrived at the shrine in the Fangs at the appointed time, though he was pouting when he did. Waving to Wessex, he leaned against one of the walls of the cave. His arms were folded across his chest and he clutched a journal in them. Since the Queen (presumably) already knew about his little communication problem from their jaunt in Frey's Breath, he didn't bother trying to speak to her.

Instead he just tapped his foot as he waited for whoever else was coming to this to show. Although his eyes trailed towards Wessex every now and then, mostly he kept his gaze trained on the entrance to the cave.
by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real
AMUN
Neron Launceleyn
the Hailstorm
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#3
NERON
show me how defenceless you really are
Neron arrives, slipping into the entrance of the shrine like a shadow on the wall. Like the rest of them, he is back to his usual self, but he still gives Wessex a warm smile and a nod as he moves to stand a few feet away from Amun. Things are hazy, since the return of his sanity, but some memories are clear. And he knows for certain that he had a snowball fight with Wessex at some point.

"I checked before I left, and I ran alongside the causeway so the prints will be harder to detect. I wasn't followed," he assures the group, arching an eyebrow at the journal that his fellow Ascended holds, but deciding not to make a thing out of it. It's a good job they don't feel the cold, because especially in a place like this, it's likely to be an uncomfortable wait for the rest of them.
Edwyn Digby


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#4
we write down made-up stories to tell the truths we wish we could say out loud
He isn't Mara, but it isn't like that matters terribly.

Arriving with an infectious glint of happiness in his blue stare, the final member of this secret meeting makes his way into the heart of the shrine. Nodding politely at the two men in attendance, Edwyn next turns his gaze towards Wessex offering her a humble nod and smile. It is good to see her back in fighting form, with her wits and senses about her.

"This all feels sufficiently mysterious." Edwyn chimes, pushing his hands into his pockets with a grin. "Don't you think?" He asks the group, but also no one in particular. The writer is often in the habit of asking pseudo-rhetorical questions. He'd be perfectly happy for an answer, but wouldn't be put off should he be ignored.


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#5
the stories i could tell
Appearing with a crackle and szzzNAP of electricity, the Voice sits atop the frigid shrine of the ascended's making. "Hello my bright ones. I'm so pleased to see you all, especially now that you're all feeling much better." Edwyn hadn't been infected, but the rest of the group certainly had. The sickness was felt keenly by the Voice, even though she stayed away from her children to prevent its spread. "I'm sorry that I had to keep my distance from you. Without the metal and knowing what it was which had caused this, I couldn't take the chance of becoming infected myself, and thereby somehow passing on additional mutations to you."

Hands folded neatly together on her lap, the Voice surveys those in attendance before her gaze falls back upon Wessex. It's an interesting group gathered, though the goddess has the utmost faith in the demigoddess's judgement.

"Has Wessex told you what it is you are here for?"



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Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#6
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Nodding at both Neron and Edwyn as they arrived, Amun stayed where he was. Raising an eyebrow at the Hailstorm's comment and shrugging at the writer's question, the potter turned to face the shrine when the Voice appeared. Beaming at her, he waved hello.

When she explained why she hadn't appeared in person to them, he waved away her apology.  When the goddess asked why they had assembled he found himself responding instinctively. "On." Grimacing, he shook his head instead, before glancing over at Wessex. Pouting a bit, he looked between the Wraith and the Voice, wondering who would explain the situation first.
by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real
AMUN
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#7
WESSEX
the wraith
she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
“Excellent,” Wessex says with a sly smile to Neron, and a similar glance to Edwyn. Mysterious, indeed, she seems to acknowledge. Everything for a reason, dear brothers - everything for a reason. And it’s a good thing, too, given the turn of events. Who knows what they might have blabbed in their delirium, and certain information always seems to have a way of getting to the wrong people.

Having heard of Safrin’s infection with the blight and seeing how Ronin was infected, the Wraith certainly understands now, after the fact. The lack of comfort in the moment was distressing, but she hardly remembers that now. “Not yet,” she confirms and then turns to them as a whole. “We’re going to change how Outlanders enter Caido. No more Attuned. No more Abandoned. Just Ascended and Accepted.” Hopefully they can now understand why she kept this mission a secret - it isn’t inconceivable that everyone would be up in arms about it.

Wessex then returns her gaze to the Voice, because that’s all she knows; the rest will come from their Lady.
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah


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#8
the stories i could tell
The Voice nods, happy to let Wessex take the floor. "Before when it was just us trapped inside of the barrier, it was purely a numbers game. They wanted out, and so did we. But now? Well we've all heard that the Order is slipping their fingers into everything. They did this before as well, long, long ago, when I was banished from Stormbreak." She pauses, a frown flickering over her expression for a moment before she continues.

"As all of you know I would never force ascendedness on anyone. It must always be a choice, freely selected. After the damage to the Spire, the machine has simply...been running. With the explosion of the Core I have no way of changing it...at least not yet." Here her gaze fixes on those gathered around her. "Which is where you come in. In order to make the necessary changes, we need two pieces of mage glass." She lowers her voice. "I can direct you to a cavern where once mage glass was mined, long, long ago. There should still be some, though it will not be easy to find. The pathways within the mountains are treacherous and winding. It isn't so much dangerous as it is...like a labyrinth. But if you are willing, and if we can boost the machine with the glass, then we can change the program I set running all those centuries ago."
Amun Arlun
Potter

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#9
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun's eyes widened as Wessex explained why they had gathered here. Turning to face the Voice as she spoke, he frowned as she brought up the Order and Stormbreak, as the potter wasn't privy to those particular developments yet. Nodding as she mentioned Ascension being a choice, he stilled as she explained the task before him.

Although the goddess had mentioned it wasn't necessarily dangerous, just difficult, Amun scribbled in his notebook for a moment before reaching out to tap the Wraith on the shoulder. He held up the page he'd just written on for her to see. Sregnad? Tapping a finger at it, he resisted the urge to whine at his communication difficulties.

Regardless, he gave the Voice a thumbs up and a nod, indicating his willingness. He, at least, was in.
by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real
AMUN
Edwyn Digby


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#10
we write down made-up stories to tell the truths we wish we could say out loud
Well this is all an awful lot. Desperately Edwyn wishes it wouldn't be horribly rude for him to pull out the notebook in his pocket and keep track of all of this. But hten...why would it be? Surely with the importance of all of this, it would make sense for someone to keep diligent notes? And if those notes ended up one day helping to create a published record of the Voice's accolades, all the better.

So thinking, the writer pulls out the book and quill from his pocket and begins to hastily summarize all that has happened so far. He includes those present, where they all are standing, and once he's caught up, will try to record as accurate a dialogue as is possible. He's fast, but even his hands can't go that fast.
Neron Launceleyn
the Hailstorm
Barman at the VlamVloed

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#11
NERON
show me how defenceless you really are
Neron glances up at the arrival of their lady, at Wessex's explanation about what exactly they were here to do. He's impressed and it shows, though he can't help but stiffen at hearing what it is they need in order to pull this sort of thing off. It won't do to hide things, much as he is reluctant to part with what has been his ace in the hole for a long time, now. But... the Voice has proven benevolent and generous more than once; he is sure his actions now will not be forgotten.

"We may not have to mine so deeply as expected," he says softly, straightening up and reaching into his shirt. From within he withdraws a silver chain, suspended at the length of which is a pendant which gleams and shines like no other jewel around. Neron knows this for a fact. "I have been in possession of this piece of mageglass since making my deal with the Eirachi. We can use it on the machine."



Neron offers his mageglass to help fulfil part of the task at hand:

Mageglass Pendant | A large, prismatic stone suspended from a chain of silver. This pendant doubles the power of any magic that the user wields.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#12
WESSEX
the wraith
she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
It’s explanation time, and the demigod finds herself relieved to finally be able to hear the whole story behind the vision. The not-knowing is something that sets her more on edge, and even when she knows she just has to trust the Voice, it rarely stops her from imagining a hundred different scenarios.

Finally, here it is. And it doesn’t sound… exceptionally difficult, all things considered. If it’s in Halo then the Wraith and Neron probably know about the area, what with their adventure to get rid of the cannibals and all. “Is it in Halo?” she begins, a second question on the tip of her tongue before she notices Edwyn scribbling in his journal. She seems to start with a sort of panic, a caution born of too many loose lips and hands. “Wait -” she almost seems to blurt out, reaching to stop the pencil.

“Not this. This kind of action has to be secret and that’s evidence,” she says, calm yet insistent on the matter. "I'm sorry." Waiting for the writer to do something like erase it or tear it out, she only glances at Amun’s pages when she’s certain the other man understands her. Then Neron offers up a mageglass pendant, and not only is she taken slightly aback, she's filled with a fierce bit of pride for his sacrifice. Whatever they talked about while they were sick must hav struck home. Or perhaps the former Warden is just growing up. There's a satisfied smile on her face before Amun draws her attention.

Her Advisor's written communication is at least a little easier than before, and Wessex is able to read it backwards. “Ah, dangers - yes, good question, thanks.” Shrugging, she looks at the Voice for help on this one. “Do you think we need to grab tools?”
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah


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#13
the stories i could tell
Wessex isn't the only to take note of Amun's strange communication glitch. "Now, now, none of that." Electricity snaps from her fingertips, dancing through the air and spreading out like netting across Amun. It filters down into the Potter's skin, filling him with a bright sensation almost like a shiver from the cold. His internal circuits now unhindered by the work of the pesky spirits, he's free to speak and write normally again.

Of course Neron's pendant was not something of which the Voice was ignorant, but as in most things, everything was a choice for her children to make. That Neron volunteered, so freely in fact, filled her with an overwhelming sense of pride and admiration for just how far the man had come. "You," She nearly coos in Neron's direction, blue eyes filled with warmth and appreciation, "are wonderful. I shall make sure that you are suitably compensated for your generosity."

Turning back to Wessex as she gives voice to Amun's earlier question, the Voice gives her head a light shake. "Deep within Halo there are various tunnels through mines once filled with mage glass. They aren't dangerous so much as they are..." She pauses, looking for the right word. "..complex. It will be a test for your minds, moreso than for your bodies in order to be successful in this."
Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#14
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
As the Voice's blessing coursed through Amun, he did indeed shiver, though he smiled as he did. When she finished, he sighed in relief. "Oh thank the gods. Er...goddess. You. Thank you. For curing me. Again." Thankfully, he couldn't blush, but he did look down bashfully, though he was still grinning

Glancing at Neron, the potter inclined his head, acknowledging and honoring the Hailstorm's sacrifice. As the Ascendeds' goddess answered Amun's question, he looked back at her. Nodding, he rubbed his hands together. "Where do we go?" His eyes flicked at Wessex, smirking a bit. With the curse removed and the task before him, he found himself on the balls of his feet, ready to get started.
by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real
AMUN


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