Abyssals 2.5 - IC Thread

[Psychie]

Our IC thread will start shortly.

Sherwood Eonivar Tachyon Crocodile

 

[Psychie]

It is a dull grey day, with a low layer of clouds keeping the oppressive heat of the day down to a dull throbbing ache instead of the blazing furnace that it can be. Even so, the pale sun does pound down on your heads if you go outside, but at least it is not as bad as it could be. You might be faced with the full, unobstructed heat of Creation's sun instead of the haze of the Underworld.

Your Master, the Deliverer of Dark Dreams and Nightmares, has a small fortress built into the side of a small mountain that she has named Shaddar Logoth, which means Shadow's Linger in Old Realm. Most of the small town that has sprouted up around the fortress is underground in order to protect the residents, both living and dead, from the brutal heat of the day. It is thanks to the work of a small army of zombies, digging tirelessly and with no regard for their own safety, that were able to excavate the heart of the mountain to make a space to live in.

Voice That Cries From the Heart of Darkness has recently returned from a pilgrimage to Stygia and into the heart of the Labyrinth, where she was able to kneel down and prostrate herself before the Neverborn and revel in the dark whispers that only those close to death can hear. This has helped to draw her closer to the Void, but at what cost? Only time will tell.

Camina, also known as the Deliverer's Shadow, and the Apostle of Immortal Freedom, have just returned from Creation where the Apostle just held a large celebration in honor of the Deliverer, and Camina was able to root out a pair of Immaculate spies that had tried to infiltrate the growing cult. The two spies were executed in a public display, sacrificed to the greater glory of the Deliverer and the Neverborn, before it was time to return to Shaddar Logoth and attend to your Master as she has summoned you back.

Crocodile's character is here, ensconced deep in the heart of the mountain, hard at work on his latest necrotech creation.

After having some time to clean yourselves up from the various long journeys you have taken, the four of you have been summoned to the Deliverer's personal library where the Dark Lady Herself is going to speak with you. At this time, servants have some into the room to provide you with refreshments as you wait for your Master to come.

 

[Sherwood]

Earlier....

Voice That Cries slowly rides her undead horse into the large cavern that serves as the main street of the town built into the mountain, watching as the townspeople spot her and her small escort of ten Nemissaries that served as her honor guard and move aside with the appropriate show of respect and obedience. Voice keeps quiet as they ride further into the main cavern of Shaddar Logoth on their way to the fortress at the center of the mountain, her thoughts filled with the beautiful voices of the Neverborn, whispering their thoughts and secrets to her as she rides. Even with the Whispers of the Void echoing in her ears, Voice is still aware of her surroundings, taking note of any that do not move in haste to show the proper level of respect due to her as one of her Masters' Chosen.

Once they reach the fortress at the heart of the mountain, she slips off of the back of the dead horse with relief. It has been a long ride, and Voice was by no means an expert horsewoman. Leaving the horse to be taken care of by the attendants, she looks to the Nemissaries following her. "You have served well on this journey. Go and relax and enjoy the comforts of home, and when the time comes for you to attend me, I will call. You are dismissed."

Now it is time for a bath, and to see to her equipment.

Later on.....

Once the layers of grime have been scrubbed away from both her body and her gear, Voice slips into a soft pale dress that makes her dark hair really stand out in stark contrast to the light gown she is wearing. With a soft step, the dangerous woman heads off to the library. Her Mistress has summoned her, and she wouldn't be caught dead (ha! Get it?) being late to the side of the Deliverer when she is called.

Voice steps into the library and looks about, but doesn't see the Dark Lady anywhere. That doesn't mean she's not here, she thinks, just that I don't see her yet. She walks softly on the thick, plush carpet to one of the several chairs and settles down on the soft fluff to wait.

 

[Crocodile]

The laboratory was clean and well-kept if perhaps grim in its design. Various grisly instruments hung waiting to be used, lacking any signs of grim or bodily fluids. The Merchant of Death was currently clad in a long dark smock, leather apron and long gloves while fighting with wrenching the head off some hapless massive beastman that had been acquired for one of his little side projects. There was a bit of substantial swearing in Riverspeak, something the Merchant seemed to default to when frustrated or enraged. After a bit more battling with the corpse, the head was removed with a cry of victory as the Merchant held it high.

"Victory is mine, beastman! Now you shall make a lovely head for my new project!" The Merchant happily takes his prize and drops it into a vat of carrion beetles to let them cleanse the flesh from the bone. He had no use for the flesh itself on this. Bone and steel were his tools. Flesh could be fun but only when he was working to make some suitable bodies for the nemissaries he employed in his schemes on behalf of his master.

The summons came as he was cleaning up and removing his gear. Soon enough the Merchant was dressed in his preferred fine clothing tailored from Eastern silks in funerary blacks and blues as was the tradition of his own people in the Hundred Kingdoms. Silver lined things here and there as he adjusted the broad brimmed hat he favored to keep that insufferable sun out of his eyes. His soulsteel cane tapping along the stone floor as he entered the library. He nodded politely to Voice as he sees her, curious what fun was in store. What challenges to his mind would be posed, what puzzles to unravel. What terrors to create.

 

[Eonivar]

While the others entered in to the library, the Deliverer's Shadow was already there, standing in the shadows eagerly waiting to be in the presence of her Mistress.

OOC: Camina has invoked unseen wisp method.(usually has it invoked when she wants to hide and watch) and is hiding in the shadows of the library

Camina wore many forms and many looks, usually of women, but it is not unheard of her to take a mans visage. The only constant is that she always wore some sort of armor, usually it took the appearance of a black leather that covered her short, slight yet athletic form. Only her beloved Deathlord knew her true visage. For now she was just a shadow in the library. On the return trip to Shaddar Logoth, she had taken the guise of one of the Apostle's entourage. Upon arrival, she had slipped away into the shadows and back to her quarters to quickly refresh herself and then made her way quickly to the library in the shadows.

Camina waited patiently, containing her excitement to be in the presence of her Mistress. She watched and observed each of her Abyssal circle enter the library one by one. She would size them up and try to read their dispositions and motives, searching for any hint of betrayal or treachery against her Mistress. Camina had already assessed the possible exits and cover in the library in case she had to escape quickly if such a betrayal would occur.

The only one the Deliverer's Shadow truly trusted was the Deliverer of Dark Dreams and Nightmares herself. For now her Abyssal Circle seemed worthy of some trust at the moment, particularly since her Mistress had desired her to work with them, but Camina knew well that that trust could change quickly.

 

[Tachyon]

Creation teems with the uncounted masses of lost souls chained to the cycle of reincarnation. It is hard for the Apostle to ignore their plight, and thus returning to the Underworld is bittersweet. Although it is a far more pleasant place to exist in, if only for the absence of the hated sun, is he not more needed elsewhere? Bringing the truth and freedom to those who need it? Such thoughts linger a while on his journey towards Shaddar Logoth, but they are eventually banished, driven away by the serenity that settles as he approaches his home-away-from-home. He hoped Camina's journeys had been free of troubles, he thought she was with him at the celebration, but he could honestly never be sure of her presence or lack thereof.

After taking a bath, the Apostle strides into the library to join the others. He is dressed in matte and simple dark robes, hands clasped gently together as his gaze scans the room. So much knowledge, it made his own extensive library seem small by comparison. He swiftly banishes such thoughts, comparing himself to his Deathlord serves no purposes, and only leads to unskilled thought-patterns. His focus should be on the here and now, and on whatever purposes the Delivered of Dark Dreams and Nightmare has in mind for him.

 

[Psychie]

Time passes, and the servants suddenly make themselves scarce as the temperature of the room noticeably drops. From one of the dark corners of the room, the Deliverer appears. She doesn't walk in as much as she glides along the soft carpet, making no sound over a whisper. She pauses, taking in the room at a glance and meeting your eyes one at a time with a smile.

After a moment, she settles into her favorite chair and motions for you to come closer, and the Deliverer greets you one by one as you kneel down before her. A soft touch of her hand shows you that she is pleased with her servants and the Dark Lady leans back in her seat.

"Welcome back, my darlings. Shaddar Logoth was not the same without your presence, and your were all missed. Tell me, dear Voice, did you find what you were looking for in the holy city of Stygga? I do hope your time before the Neverborn was . . . insightful."

Turning to look at Camina, she asks, "Your time in Creation was time well spent? I hear you were instrumental in finding some intruders that were trying to infiltrate our loyal followers. Well done, my dear."

The Apostle is next to draw the focus of your Master. "I watched your latest sermon, my child, and even I was moved by the passion you feel for the Neverborn. With each sermon, the ranks of those loyal to us grow. Know that I am pleased."

Finally, the Deliverer looks to the Merchant. "I regret that your work has been interrupted. I know how much you enjoy tinkering on your workshop. This is unfortunate, but necessary."

Folding her hands in her lap, the Deliverer says, I have received a message from the Toymaker. He has sent his man, The Servant of the Night, here on important business that I feel that you should be present to hear. The Servant is due here within the next half hour with a special guest that I wish you to meet."

 

[Sherwood]

Voice feels a delightful shiver run down her back as the Dark Lady greets her. Looking at her master with an expression of love and devotion, she says, "Yes, m'Lady, I can feel the dark whispers of the Neverborn in my heart much clearer than before. I grow stronger for the desires of the Underworld with each visit to the Labyrinth."

When the Deliverer tells them of an unexpected guest being escorted by The Servant of the Night, Voice smiles. "M'Lady, who is this visitor? And how does the appearance of this guest affect us here in the fortress? Is there any danger that we should be aware of?"

 

[Psychie]

The Deliverer turns her dark eyes to Voice, saying, "To be honest, The Toymaker didn't give me much details, but what I do know is that this visitor is a prisoner from another land that the Toymaker feels that I should question. You are aware of the incursion from . . . somewhere . . . that has taken place in Creation, near the southern west coast of the south? A vast invasion force has been spreading across creation, and this person is one of these intruders, and there is something about this intruder that the Toymaker feels is important enough to be brought to me for further investigation. I don't believe that this prisoner poses a risk to us here, but it is always a good thing to be on your guard."

Turning to look at the others in the room, the Dark Lady says, "Are there any other questions or concerns? If not, we should prepare for our guests."

 

[Eonivar]

Upon the Lady's entrance, Canina seemed to coalesce out of the shadows to kneel down before her. Her visage was of a dark haired young woman with short black as night hair. She wore head to toe form fitting black leather like armor. She wore a capped quiver on her back. The shadows seemed to follow her and partially shroud the features on her face.

"It comforts me to be in your presence again my mistress."

The Deliverer's touch sent joyful shivers down Camina's spine. She then rose when the Deliverer leaned back and receded partially back into the shadows of the library, where just her silhouette could be seen.

The Deliverer's praise of her discovery of the spies, the silhouette nodded and responded "The hypocrites paid for their audacity in thinking they could hide from our sight my Mistress."

In asking for questions Camina, the voice from the shadows, asked:

"My Mistress, What is our stake in this invasion of the living lands? Why do we care what the Toymaker brings? The living fight each other all the time. Why should we care about yet another invasion or war? Why not let the weak dragonblooded blasphemors, their accursed celestial bureaucratic handlers, the deluded solars, or the misguided moon born waste themselves on such a force and then after this invasion has worn itself out we can take what we want from their remains?"

 

[Psychie]

The Deliverer smiles at Camina's outburst, saying, "You will note that you have not been to see to these invaders yet? You are correct that we have little to fear from these out landers, but there are reports that have reached my ears that these foreigners have a new kind of Exalted, a kind not seen before in Creation. This bears some investigating, and while our friend the Toymaker has many talents, interrogation is not one of them."

She casualty shifts on her seat, then continues with, "I have bided my time here for ages, letting the other Deathlords fight over the scraps of Creation while doing little to garner attention. I have a feeling that this invasion represents an opportunity that we are in a position to capitalize upon. To that end, we will treat our captive well in hopes that he will cooperate. If not, he will die and his ghost will tell me all."

 

[Sherwood]

Voice listens to her master with interest. "As you wish, M'Lady. We will treat this prisoner well, and if he refuses to cooperate he will learn that death is no escape."

 

[Eonivar]

Camina in response to the Deliverer's statement, gave a nod and echoed the Voice in stating "As you wish."

She still felt uneasy about the situation though and seemed to step deeper into concealment.

 

[Crocodile]

The Merchant had watches and listened, considering the information from his master. It was intriguing and honestly the parts for his project would keep at least in the labs here. He simply remained knelt and listened, enjoying the touch of their dark patron. This coming visit stirred a dark curiosity in him about what was happening. A new puzzle to unravel and perhaps a new people to unravel as well. He did enjoy his games, his time to shine as he turned lands upon themselves. To let the blood flow and the dead grow restless.

"What a lovely puzzle. I await permission to unravel it."

 

[Psychie]

The Deliverer grants you all another smile before she rises and motions for you to do the same. "Come my darlings. We have a visitor to prepare for. We all must look our best for our guests. I will expect you all in the great hall in twenty minutes."

With that, the Dark Lady glides out of the library, leaving you to your own resources in order to prepare yourselves for your visitors. Once she has left, the servants once more drift on to clean up and stand ready to take any orders from the Exalted in the room.

Given the twenty minutes, you have time to change if you want into something suitable to receive your guests. How do you appear in the great hall?

At the appointed time, there are a number of guards in their full armor, standing in pairs at the various entrances to their hall, with the Deliverer seated at the end in an ornate throne. She leaves it up to you to determine where you stand to wait.

Soon enough the large doors at the other end of the hall swing open to reveal your guests: the Servant of the Night stands there in the entrance, flanked by four guards bearing the crest of the Twisted Toymaker, guiding a human man that is wearing heavy shackles on his hands and feet. The prisoner is wearing only dirty rags to cover himself, and you can see that he has been roughed up recently.

The Servant waits for the Deliverer to motion him forward, and he advances to a respectful distance and kneels down on one knee with his head bowed. Still kneeling, he says, "I bring greetings for you from my Master, the Twisted Toymaker, and several gifts for his ally, the Dark Lady of Shaddar Logoth."

The Deliverer says, "Rise and be welcome, Servant of the Night. I value the alliance with your Master, and any gift from the Toymaker is received in the spirit of continued cooperation. Tell us, what gifts do you bring us?"

The Servant stands, and says, "The first is this item, taken from the body of one of their fallen." He pulls out frm under his robes metal cylinder, roughly a foot long and made of a gleaming metal. "This is a weapon used by one of the out landers to great effect against one of my Masters' constructs. At first glance, it is unremarkable. But when in the hands of an Essence user, this happens."

A scintillating beam of energy bursts forth from the handle, forming a glowing silver blade of light and energy, roughly the size of a long sword. The Servant shuts the glowing light off, and offers the handle to a servant to take to the Deliverer. She takes the item and looks out over with controlled interest.

"An interesting creation, but I have a feeling that the best is still to come. What else does the Toymaker have for us?"

The Servant smiles, and he motions for his guards to step forward with the prisoner. "A dozen men were captured after they stumbled into a shadowland near the Toymaker's domain. Of the twelve, eleven quickly took ill and died. This one man is the sole survivor of the illness that swept through them."

The Deliverer raises an eyebrow, asking, "Why is this so interesting to your Master?"

"My Lady, it was not that they got sick that is of interest, but of what. They all died of The Great Contagion. Apparently, these people have never been exposed to it before, and it is still as virulent as ever."

At this revelation, the Dark Lady leans forward. "That is of interest. Have you been able to learn where these foreigners come from?"

He shakes his head. "My Master lacks the . . . finesse. . . that you have to encourage people to talk. It is his hope that you can delve into the secrets that this man has."

 

[Eonivar]

Camina slips out of the library as her dress and form change while moving from one shadow to another following the Dark Lady.
(Camina's form for the party)

Upon entering the Throne Room the Deliverer's Shadow positions herself in the shadows to the right of the Dark Lady on her throne, on one step lower so she could watch over the proceedings, but not on the top of the Throne dais out of respect and love for her Mistress.

The weapon impressed Camina, even though it was not her particular style of weapon. She glanced over and gazed that the strange melee energy weapon once it was handed to the Deliverer before turning her gaze on the captured human.

She whispers to the Dark Lady on the Throne beside her. "Perhaps the Apostle or the Merchant of Death may be able to get something out of this one."

 

[Tachyon]

The Apostle strides into the throne room, having replaced his simple dark robe with a similar one, albeit slightly more formal. The matt black fabric now featured buttons of polished wood and silver detailing around the edges of the sleeves and collar. A red stole embroided with prayers in Old Realm to the Neverborn hangs around his shoulders.

As he makes his way across the room, he takes place on the opposite side of the throne as Camina, he too careful not to tread atop the dais. As their guest arrives and brings his news, the Apostle ponders what this all means. New weapons? A people still vulnerable to the Contagion? The Apostle found himself wishing he was more versed in the science of medicine to know exactly what that meant, but others would certainly enlighten him.

"This is interesting, but death and weaponry are of no short supply in Creation. What does this mean?" He glanced over at the Delivered hastily, but sought not to make eye contact. He was not too proud to admit ignorance, but he didn't have the audacity to demand attention.

 

[Psychie]

The Deliverer daintily taps her chin with a finger, thinking. She then says in a louder voice, "Bring this man forward. I wish to see him better."

Four of her own guards step forward and physically hoist up the chained man and pull him forward, then push him down to his knees in front of the Dark Lady. With a bow, they step back to allow the Deathlord to look down at the prisoner.

With a smooth, silky voice, she asks him questions in several languages, trying to find one that he understands. Finally shifting to Old Realm, the man twitches a bit, showing some recognition at her words. She continues in the ancient tongue with, "I see you can understand what I'm saying. Can you speak?"

Slowly, the man tries to say something, but breaks down in a fit of coughing. The Lady says in Flametongue, "Bring out something for him to drink, and unchain his hands so he may refresh himself. If he is foolish enough to do something, I have full faith in my knights to keep us safe."

Moving rapidly to obey, a servant brings a small cup of wine while the guards unchain the prisoner. With shaking hands, he pulls the cup to his lips and drinks it down. He finally looks up at the Deliverer and mutters out in accented Old Realm, "Th-thank you."

With a smile, the Lady says, "Excellent. You can understand me. Now, would you please tell me your name? It makes having a discussion much more pleasant when I know the name of my guests."

The man says, "I am Aaron-26. The rest of my squad all died; what will you do to me?"

"We will treat you well, I promise, and it may be that we can return you to your people. After all, we are not at war with you, are we? That unpleasantness I leave in the hands of those in Creation. Tell me, where are you from?"

Aaron-26 shakes his head, but seemingly out of nowhere comes the answer of, "Yugash, in the Nation of Kamak." He seems surprised to hear himself speak, apparently having planned on saying nothing.

"Hmmmm. I know not these places, Are they located in Creation? Or, perhaps you are Fae-touched and live in the Wyld?"

Speaking in a dazed voice, Aaron-26 says, "No, Kamak resides inside the Great Maker, Autochthon. It is from there that Yugash waits for word of our victory against those that resist us."

The Deliverer leans forward at this, and those watching her can see that her eyes light up with a dark purple glow. "What was that? Where did you say your Kamak is?"

He is visibly struggling to keep quiet, but even with his teeth clenched, he says, "We live inside Autochthon. That is where our home is."

With an audible hiss, the Deliverer leans back in her seat, her eyes wide and no longer glowing. She says, "I have many questions for you, Aaron-26, and I do hope you will answer them. It will be much more pleasant for you if you do."


Over the course of the next hour, the Deliverer peppers the prisoner with questions, and the answers seem to excite the Dark Lady more and more. Finally, she lets out a sigh and leans back, saying, "Take our guest to the chambers I have prepared and see to his needs. I have much to go over with my Champions." She waits for the exhausted man to be dragged of the room before she turns to look at the Toymakers' Deathknight. "Servant of the Night, your Master has come across a golden opportunity, and we must act swiftly in order to capitalize on this."

He looks confused, but bows. "Of course, M'Lady. I would ask, if I may, what exactly is this opportunity you speak of? I know next to nothing about what you were questioning the prisoner about."

"This is ancient history, even for those here in the Underworld. Allow me to give you all a brief history lesson, and after that, you may understand why I am feeling so excited. It was before Creation, when the Wyld raged all around, when the Great Primordials formed Order from Chaos, and Creation came to be. This was a time before the Gods themselves, and it was the Great Maker, Autochthon, that formed these servants in order to take control of Creation, and he gifted the Celestial Incarne with humans in order to worship them and to be their servants in this new world. As a part of His work, the Primordials placed a geas upon the Gods to prevent them from being able to act directly against them.

It was also Autochthon that made the first Exalted, and he gave the Shards to the Unconquered Sun, Luna, and the Five Maidens. He also saw a loophole around the geas; the Exalted servants of the gods were not bound by the order of the Primordials, and they were free to act against his fellow Primordials. Thus the Exalted host rose up against the Primordials, and for the first time, the Neverborn knew fear and death as one by one, they fell into the Underworld. The rest of the Primordials except for Autochthon surrendered to the Exalted, and were imprisoned inside Malfias.

This was the start of the Great First Age of the Solars, and with the aid of Autochthon, the first Deliberative did many great things. But the presence of Autochthon was a constant reminder to the gods and Exalted alike of the betrayal that put the Deliberative in power, and He sensed his time was drawing short before the Exalted of the First Age would turn on him.

Acting preemptively, the Great Maker made plans to leave Creation. He drew forth from Creation many millions of people inside his own world-sized body and left into Elsewhere, never to be seen again. Until now.

The invasion that is taking place right now is coming from the descendants of the first people that were taken so many years ago, because apparently, the resources that make life possible for the people inside His body are being used up, and Autochthon Himself is dying. There are no Shadowlands in Autochthon, but there are places known as Blight Zones, areas of the Maker that are withering away.

Another thing of interest is the fact that these people have never been exposed to the Great Contagion, and as we have learned, the Contagion is still as deadly as ever. If we can find a way to introduce the Contagion to the people inside of Autochthon, it would be an unstoppable pandemic, spreading death across the nations of Autochthon and making Shadowlands that can be linked to the Underworld, making it possible for someone here be able to step forward and take these new lands and the dead that they will contain for ourselves. This has the potential to dwarf even the great army of the First And Forsaken Lion.

If we can bring Autochthon down, it would make a whole new Underworld, one of vast resources just waiting to be taken. This is our moment, my darlings. We will be the first to cause the death of a Primordial in over six thousand years."

 

[Sherwood]

Voice has recently returned from the city of Stygga, having traveled across the Underworld on both land and sea for many miles. The Underworld is vast, and as much as she loves her Mistress, she must admit that the Deliverer is far from the most powerful of the Deathlords. But if they were able to be the first to move and seize control of large swaths of territory and the dead locked away inside this Autochthon, that could make for a drastic change in the balance of power, especially with the addition of 'new' types of Exalted bolstering their ranks, all armed with powerful weapons not seen in mass combat since the First Age and the Shogunate.

"M'Lady? You should know that I will always do as you command, but I am forced to ask, how does one kill a Primordial? This is far beyond anything that I have ever done for you before, and I confess I have absolutely no idea how to make your will happen."

 

[Crocodile]

The Merchant had stood silently at the foot of the dais and center as if in the role of majordomo. Always willing to humble himself before her and the others if need be. Control was as much about seeming weak as seeming strong. It made him less offensive to egos dead or living, all the easier to get what he desired in any situation. It also made dealing with other Abyssals simpler. He was well dressed in his flowing coat of black, blue and silver, even now his hidden protection of soulsteel chain beneath his fine clothing.

He listened with growing fascination as more and more was shared. His master tugging each delicious secret from this man moment by moment. When he as gone, he heard the Voice ask their questions and turns to them with a slightly manic smile.

"You kill them in pieces. If Autochthon is like Gaia, there will be Souls. Just as Creation has its dragons, Autochthon must have something similar. Component selves? Pieces? Parts?" The Merchant mused with increasing delight.

"How wonderous! The things I could make! The opportunity to deliver the Great Contgion unto an entire WORLD! Hah! Hahahahahahahaha!" The Merchant broke into a fit of mad laughter, clutching his face in dark joy with his gloved hands as the opportunity to invent and spread such a scale of annihilation was presented to him. His mask of calm slipping to reveal the madness that drove it, that made him the Merchant of Death. The Deliverer would be a power unto herself amongst the Deathlords and he would be by her side to reap the rewards of such ambitious action.

 

[Psychie]

The Deliverer looks art The Merchant with a deadly smile. "Yes, my Chosen, you begin to understand. Death and conquest on a scale not seen since the Great Contagion first ravaged Creation before the Fae Invasion. Creation would have fallen if that upstart Empress hadn't used the Sword of Creation to scour the invaders away back to the Wyld. There will be no savoir for these foreigners as they all fall to our ranks of the walking dead."

She looks at each of you in turn, showing your all how excited she is. "We must move with both haste and caution in order to accomplish our goals and not have the prize taken by one of our rivals. Fear not, Servant. There is sufficient riches ahead of us to share with the Toymaker. After all, it is thanks to his foresight that wet now know of this opportunity. My darlings, prepare for a trip to the Toymaker's domain. A way must be found to introduce the Great Contagion to the people of Autochthon in such a manner that they cannot defend against it in order to spread the infection as wide and as far as possible."

 

[Sherwood]

Voice smiles at the thought of spreading disease and death across a whole new world. She says, "Perhaps . . . Well, it is true that mosquitos can spread disease; can we come up with something similar to spread our Contagion? It need not be natural, in fact if it were some sort of automaton, or better yet, many automatons, they should be able to spread this disease far enough that it would be impossible to stop."

She looks to The Merchant, knowing that his skills of crafting were vastly superior to her own. "Could something like that work? We would just need to find a way to introduce our little plague carriers to the population."

 

[Tachyon]

It was a lot to take in, this history lesson and his master's ambitious plans. But if it was true, and a new Underworld could be made, the resources made available could free thousands of souls from bondage.

As the Voice airs her idea of mosquitos, the Apostle joins her in looking at the Merchant, then back to the Deliverer. "What is known about the flora and fauna of this world?"

 

[Psychie]

It was a lot to take in, this history lesson and his master's ambitious plans. But if it was true, and a new Underworld could be made, the resources made available could free thousands of souls from bondage.

As the Voice airs her idea of mosquitos, the Apostle joins her in looking at the Merchant, then back to the Deliverer. "What is known about the flora and fauna of this world?"

The Deliverer replies, "Next to nothing. All of this will need to be investigated quickly and quietly."

The Servant then says, "From what I understand of these invaders, they are sweeping across Creation rapidly, but not without losses. I do wonder, how would they respond to a 'friendly' approach? We might be able to befriend them, get into their confidence, and learn much of these questions that we have before trying to introduce whatever vector to spread the Contagion."

The Deliverer slowly nods, then says, "A dangerous ploy, but it might be the best option."

 

[Tachyon]

The Apostle nods as his Deathlord speak. "Considering a friendly approach may be wise. If this is indeed an invasion force, they would most likely look for allies. Such a relationship could easily be exploited, I believe." His tone is flat and matter-of-fact. "Of course, this olive branch we extend could be coated with all manner of diseases and poxes, chief among them the Great Contagion. But this is all hypothetical, I feel we need more meat on our bones before we can settle on a strategy."