(Found on a napkin in an antiques store)
So you agreed to meet the Excrucian. If there’s anything that’s the opposite of you, it’s them. So why?
Because Jonathan’s more useful than Hank
Because people die, and it’s a number
Because Death bleeds
Because you’re supposed to be “subtle”
Because when you look in the mirror, the mirror is all that looks back
Because the opposite of bad isn’t good
The opposite of a devil isn’t a saint
The opposite of nothing isn’t something
I don’t know
I just feel spiteful and belligerent so why not?
1. The Monster Hunters
Two of June’s great-something-grandchildren, Ben and Lori, drove away a monster under the bed using a magic monster-only gun that June had given them.
2. A Date with the Devil
After locating the Excrucian at a hotel in San Francisco, June leaves Jonathan to preach the gospel on a street corner and goes into an antique shop to hide and think. She sits at a table—happily there’s a coffee kiosk in the back—and finds herself musing about her grandchildren.
Before she can check on them, she’s interrupted by a stranger who sits at her table. He slides an invitation across to her. The “boss”—the Excrucian—wants to meet her. The man avoids June’s hand when she reaches for the card.
She considers the invitation and accepts.
3. You Look Good Enough to Eat
While she searches the World Tree, Lust finds a hunger spirit willing to help her find Radmanghast.
The spirit (who looks like a lumpy Humpty-Dumpty made of pate) tells Macy that the Castle Radmanghast is the first castle, and wise and powerful spirit in and of herself. Oracci and Radmanghast, in fact, were once lovers, of a kind, but Oracci dumped her. The hunger-spirit warns Macy that Radmanghast won’t let go of Oracci’s possessions easily.
To reach Radmanghast, they’ll either have to travel the Appian Way (and pay their toll price) or go around it, which would be very dangerous (“We could be eaten,” the hunger-sprit says, and licks his lips). Lust decides to find a different way—perhaps by flying. She locates some mushrooms for an unknown purpose.
4. You Are to Be Commended for Your Enemies
Death forces his recalcitrant gateway to take him back to the Chancel. Oracci, blocking the chancel gateways, advises him to go through the Noctis gateway, which he has left open. Oracci praises Death for earning the antagonism of Lord Entropy and says farewell.
Death returns to the chancel and convinces Hank, June’s anchor, and Vera, a mortal June brought to Storyville with Hank, to eat some enchanted mushrooms. The two humans lose their willpower and follow Death to the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. Death wants to try to reconsecrate the Black Hills—which have been desecrated—in order to nettle Lord Meon.
Death leaves Hank and Vera on the rez and locates (according to Estevan’s research) the greatest Lakota shaman living, Grass Snake, in the local pool hall. They plot.
5. Civility is the art of living in cities
Donner locates Thomas (the power of Justice) in a hospital in Miami. Thomas is dying: he has a blight-shot trapped in his chest. Donner cuts Thomas’s chest open, removes the blight, and zorches it into particulate with a lightning bolt.
Donner, stretching his powers a bit, reinforces the spark of life in the entire area, which purges the last traces of the blight from the air.
Donner makes contact with June and Conspiracy and talks them into discussing the June’s Excrucian with each other. From Conspiracy, he finds out Thomas’s favorite wine and leaves a bottle in Thomas’s hospital room.
Donner tells Amaciel of his progress; Amaciel gently tells him he needn’t check in every five minutes. Donner shrugs this off and spends some time with Gwen.
On character advancement and the tone of the game.
DAVE: So, what's your second domain going to be?
STAN: Guilt and Despair.
DOYCE: Aw, man ...
DAVE: Dude, couldn't it be Guilt and Little Puppies or something?
On understanding character motivations.
GUILT: But it was probably unexpected having Guilt in your mind, talking to you.
PUNISHMENT: No.
On life imitating life.
SIAN: Fungus at the back of the alley, Mariska at the front, and I'll go over the top of the building.
MARGIE: Because you're always over the top.
On passtimes.
RANDY: What does Fungus eat for fun?
DOYCE: First editions books. Leather-bound first editions.
DAVE: Which, oddly enough, Meon keeps sending her.
DOYCE (as MEON): With my compliments.
On tactical advantages and drawbacks.
HG: As far as carrying an Excrucian weapon, the precedent is already set for it.
GUILT: Huzzah!
HG: The precedent was set by Ada Willamette, who still can't get rid of hers.
GUILT: Problem!
On odd side-benefits of Aspect.
SIAN: I spit at the location where the gate was after he's passed through and closed it.
MARGIE: And she's got really accurate spit.
Punishment, Guilt, and Fungus
Sian calls Fungus. Asks if Fungus had called earlier. Uses an excuse about why she did not contact Fungus as requested. Tells her that we (Fungus and Sian) need to some private conversation time. Guilt chimes in to Sian that she is willing to sacrifice her happiness for Sian’s need to communicate.
Sian receives a prayer from Imagination. Hangs up and tells her she’ll call her back. And continues her conversation with her Sisteren. Sian tells them about the apples. Especially about the ones that she kept and ate. Conversation of the parallels of our current problems greatly enlighten all of us. Off to New York for all of them.
List of things to do:
1. NY to capture pretty boy.
2. Jotenhiem.
3. Find the missing Excrusians from the Boat.
4. Galantrii shelf mushrooms.
Guilt informs Sian and the Graf about Noah. By the time that they get to Ofra’s brownstone, they detect Pretty Boy in the alley behind across the street. We have a plan. The Graf divines Ofra and finds Ofra dabbing at air. The Graf express concern and checks on the fungus in the apartment and she doesn‘t sense anything besides Ofra. Ofra say’s “…I am too going to call the police” to what appears to be nothing. Fungus blocks Ofra’s door.
Sian goes over the top she spots Pretty Boy down and out. There is an Excrusian standing over Pretty Boy’s lifeless body. Sian descends into the fray. The new Excrusian claims Pretty Boy as his own. There is a discussion as to ownership of Pretty Boy. Fungus comes up with a great Idea for use of Pretty Boy’s knife. Fungus wants to use the knife to locate the lost weapons…to verify the weapons possible location in Jotenhiem. A deal is made to meet at dawn and exchange items. We start to set up a Rite to remove any impressions of Guilt, Fungus and Electricity from Pretty Boy prior to giving him to the new Excrusian. The rite is a success and all is well. The knife ritual is inconclusive but seems to point in that (Jotenhiem) direction. The weapons are seem to be looking in that direction. We turn over the goodies to the other Excrusian and he leaves.
Sian and Mariska go upstairs and they ring the doorbell. Noah answers the door and says “Hi Mom…” as Ofra comes rushing into the room.
Punishment on hold with Fungus: Your call is very important to our colony.
-----
Discussing Pen-Lo.
HG: I’m having so much fun with that head it isn’t funny.
-----
On Fungus and reading
HG: You don’t read many books what with the rotting.”
Chorus: You don’t rot my flowers anymore.
Margie: Write it down now while it’s fresh. Don’t let it molder.
-----
HG: That's great. I have a great discussion with Cathetel in mind. It'll freak you.
DAVE: Now there's a ... twist.
-----
On the length of the session
HG: Witness the accomplishment of this session!
Journalist: I have three good quotes. We’re good!
Punishment calls. I’m still mad that she has been unavailable form much of the trouble. I let her wait a bit. Her voice didn’t sound strained. When I do answer, she wants to know what she can do to help. “So, have you taken care of that Great Harvest yet?” Punishment does not take the suggestion well, “I was calling to see if there were any chancel related business you need help with. You have been taking on a lot of responsibility and haven’t been getting a lot of support from the family. That’s not right. But I guess I will go and do the Great Harvest now.”
I call back later, after she’s had time to do her job. I want to take her up on her offer, and I’m a little sad I cut her off – family. When I reach her she sounds odd and distant, almost mythic. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt you? I thought that you would be done by now” Punishment simply replies, “No, it is a bit strong down here.” Fungus leaves Punishment to her work, “Call me when you are through.”
Guilt and I try to track the pretty boy with a blood hound and a couple of FBI guys. The power of the Excrucian is making such mundane means ineffective. We need a rite to make a pretty boy compass. We want to use as many things as possible that are tied to him so it will have the greatest strength. We have its blood and we can use items from the infected building. We need a pointer. Just then I remember Crime’s knife that he got off of pretty boy. I’m surprised that I didn’t think of it sooner. The knife seems to slip and slide from one’s mind.
We send the agents into the Watergate to get the necessary items. Crime sends the knife over with little interest. I wonder how her fares after the death of his anchor. When everything is gathered we have a nice pretty boy compass. The blood goes in the base of the jar and the knife suspended above pointing the way.
The compass points north. Everyone piles into an FBI suburban and Guilt takes the wheel. I use the compass to guide her. When they pass through D.C. Guilt starts to get nervous. By the time they clear Maryland, she floors it all the way to New Jersey and into New York. She has family in New York.
Punishment doesn’t call me back.
Punishment
Punishment tries to use her new ear-bud and call The Graf. There is a long pause. Siân wonders if the thing is really working. Finally the voice of Fungus comes through the device. “So, have you taken care of that Great Harvest yet?” Siân is taken aback, her first attempt at reaching out to the family and she feels rebuffed. She continues half-heartedly. “I was calling to see if there were any chancel related business you need help with. You have been taking on a lot of responsibility and haven’t been getting a lot of support from the family. That’s not right. But I guess I will go and do the Great Harvest now.”
Siân leaves to take care of that. It has been overlong since she has seen to her duties, other duties getting in the way. The harvest has congealed and condensed. The air is head with the power. The silver bowl is scorched with the intensity of the liquor. The fumes cause Siân to slip into the mystic. The images that she sees on the wall take on new meaning in light of the apple of her memory. Her mind wanders to her family and the image of damp earth, cold and pain comes to her. It takes her a moment to realize that The Graf has called her back on the ear-bud. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt you?” The Graf begins, “I thought that you would be done by now” Punishment choose to take offense. Images of Siân flying with her spear cross with some kind of windy Scottish heath, scents of potatoes and Disney music.
“So what did YOU want? I mean yeah.” Siân explains “No, it is a bit strong down here.”
Fungus leaves Siân to her work, “Just call me when you are through.”
Guild and Fungus
Mariska and The Graf try to track the pretty boy with a blood hound and a couple of FBI guys. The power of the Excrucian is making such mundane means ineffective. They decide to put together a rite instead. They use a large jar and some wire from the Watergate, the spilled blood of the enemy, something pointy to show the way. “Hey, let’s use Crimes knife” Fungus suggests, “That would be great it was on pretty boy.” Fungus and Guilt are surprised that they didn’t think of it sooner. The knife in questions seems to slip and slide from one’s mind.
They send the agents into the Watergate to get the necessary items. Crime sends the knife over with little interest. When everything is gathered Guilt and Fungus have a nice pretty boy compass. The blood goes in the base of the jar and the knife suspended above pointing the way.
The compass points north. Everyone piles into an FBI suburban and Guilt takes the wheel. Fungus begins rotting the fine leather seats while giving directions. When they pass through D.C. Guilt starts to get nervous. By the time they clear Maryland, she floors it all the way to New Jersey and into New York.
Punishment
Punishment finishes her task and head to Cathetal with the offering. She still has questions for her imperator. After presenting the bowl, she brings up the topic of the apple. She wants to know why. Cathetal reminds her that they already had the conversation, when it happened. With a brief puzzlement, Siân realizes that she does remember the conversation. Cathetal refuses to say more. “I play friend against enemy, but usually for the greater good. Go with The Graf, he has enough pieces of the puzzle now.”
Lori (June's Great-ish-granddaughter) says:
This is the plan—nevermind the plan. Nobody needs to know the plan but me and Ben. I tell him to go pee before he comes in to bed, and he says, “I know that stop telling me that” but if I forget to tell him what will he say then? But I do and he must of, because he doesn’t wet his blue pajamas when the monster gets him. So there.
I must of found out about the monster under my bed just after Dad’s birthday or just before Ben’s birthday, but anyway I saved some wrapping paper from presents to make—nevermind what I was going to make, anyway there’s drool on it. I ask Ben if he drooled on it and he pulled my hair which means, no. So I knew it must be a monster.
Gramma said one time when she babysat us that if we saw a monster, here’s a gun, but don’t bother shooting your sister because it won’t work on her and you, too, Lori. The gun was orange but I colored it with permanent markers I stoled from Dad’s office so it would be cool as black but permanent markers rub off sort of all the time.
So first I cover myself in bed, after first before that I jump into bed off the top of the dresser and I almost get it right this time. And then I wait. For a long time but it doesn’t take too long.
Ben tells Dad he needs extra special help for homework, so please can you explain this halfs math stuff, which gives him an excuse to stay up late. Finally he flushes the toilet because that’s the warning, he’s coming to bed soon, be ready and not asleep as if. And good thing, too, because I can hear the monster under the bed.
First it rattles the wrapping paper.
Then it chews on my barbies hair crunch smunch runch which is all crackly because the cat used to do the same thing, stupid cat I lose more barbies that way. Also Mom’s hairspray is not good for barbies. But I don’t care about barbies now I’m a monster hunter. Me and Ben is, too. Then it starts scritching at my blankies, it pulls them down a little and little bit more so if I don’t pull them back it means I’m asleep so it can creep up the side and eat me. Little at the bottom, little at the top.
Ben opens the door. I peek out and his shadow stretches all the way to the foot of my bed.
One foot, two feet. Creek, crick. Creek, crick. Bens walking to the bed now. I stick the nose of the monster gun out of the blankies so he knows I’m awake and just pretendin to be asleep.
…
Mom stays up until eleven o’clock cleaning slime off the walls and stuff. Finally she gives up and sends us to bed and Bens bed is all slimey so he sleeps with me and says not to wet the bed, as if.
“I don’t know where you got all that fake slime, Ben-ja-min,” she says. “Did you steal it?” “No, Mom,” Ben says. “Well, where did you get it?” “Um, I won it at school,” he says. “From whom?” “Um,” Ben says, because he’s not a very good liar, I can make anything up for instance. “When I find out who’s been stockpiling this junk—“
…
Ben is pretty brave for a boy sometimes.
But when the monster grabs him right on his socks, he screams so loud it wakes up Mom whos already in bed because of work and its me that blows the crap out of the dang old thing. Bam! Bam! Bam! Slime splatters all over the walls. Blam! Blam! The monster jumps up to the window ledge and shoves itself right through the screen. Boom! Boom! I shoot its butt off, cause magic goes right through the window screen! Blam!
The bad news is that it escaped. The worser news is there’s not enough of it to come back.
Maybe another one will just try it. Maybe we should try to catch it next time.
You don't send me fungus.
You don't bring me corn must.
You hardly shoot your spores any more
When I lay on a tarp at the the end of the day.
You used to say you'd mold me,
Said you'd never leaf me.
Now when you grow on me, late at night --
Well, when it's damp for you, babe, then you're spreading all right --
Well, then, you just turn over and seek diffuse light ...
You don't send me fungus
Any more ....
After much dithering, Guilt -- Mariska -- and Electricity decided they needed neither myself nor Alanna in Washington. Just as well -- I felt distracted by far too much else.
And it wasn't just my personal issues. I sensed I had been abrupt with the Graf. Dealing with its needs, particularly as they applied to our Chancel, would be a good trumping distraction.
"Fungus?" I was using the new ear bud. Annoying, but, one hoped, effective. "Fungus?"
Was the damnable thing even working?
At length, the Graf replied. I hoped this wasn't indicative of usual delays in the ear buds. I could have offered up a prayer in this time ...
I've long had difficulty understanding the Graf, but it was not difficult to sense that it was peeved at me. "Punishment. Have you accomplished the Great Harvest yet?"
Damn. Thanks so much, my sibling. "No. I had been going to see if there was aught I could assist you with, since you seem to have so many duties and so little help, but, now that you mention it, no, I have not, and that is my ceremonial duty. Thank you for your reminder. I will contact you later."
Damn its eyes. If ... it had eyes.
I made my way slowly down to the catacombs beneath the courthouse. I had been too long away, and the harvest of Pen Lo's quintessence had not taken place when it was needful. The bowl beneath the torso was overfull, tarnishing the body above with its heat. And the atmosphere was heady, overwhelming -- metal and flowers and ozone, redolent, leaving me gasping and lightheaded after only a minute.
I could have held my breath for how long it took. But it was, in a sense, my penance for failing to do as I must in this duty. And, it seemed to me, it might let my thoughts drift, to consider what I'd learned.
I realized, after a time, that my vision was slipping in and out of the Mythic. And, perhaps it was because the fumes of Pen Lo, it was the images from the Second Apple that I dwelt upon.
I must speak to Cathetel of this. He knows what I've remembered. But -- why? So much of what we've done hinges on this, and to know that Cathetel -- it makes no sense. Our Imperator is subtle, and I am not, but a deception such as this ...
From the First Apple, knowing what I know -- could the division have had this effect? Is the other involved in this as well, or could something have gone wrong in that as well?
And, if I wish to draw closer to my brethren, how can I continue to mislead them in this way? Where does my duty lie?
And the Third Apple. What I've lost -- or given up, to be honest. What do I have to offer the others, then, really? Or would they merely think me sentimental? Guilt would only chuckle. Crime would laugh aloud. Fungus --
"Punishment."
-- Fungus would --
"Punishment." An image of a tree -- no, a spear.
"Fungus." In my mind, an image of the moors, a bit of song from a very old play, a bit of a modern novel ...
"So, what did you want?" it asks, peevishly. "I mean, I'm sorry, I can see you are not yet finished." No sympathy in that voice. "Call me later."
"Right." The contact goes. Was it real? It was hard to think.
Haley knew. She knew. Knew what had happened. Was that why she had approached me, why she had been watching for me? What else had I forgotten and not yet recovered, discarded with soul and time and ...
Why hadn't she told me? What other secrets was she hiding? I felt a sudden sense of betrayal -- but was that fair? I didn't know any more ...
"The rest are gone ... quitting ... Rebecca ... the next Justice ..." Words, with no life behind them. Had I made the right decision? How could I know? And if I were to break the pattern I'd been trapped in -- heh, just what Haley had suggested -- I needed to recover what I'd sent away.
I'd met James Barrie, once. A cutthroat had attacked him and his new bride, in London. I'd dispatched the man, and, strangely, we'd ended up talking. Was that before -- no, it must have been after. I thought of his creation, Peter Pan -- never growing up, never changing. Losing ...
He'd been an anchor for me, for a time. Strange. How had I forgotten that? Had I cast it off, too, or had someone else ...
"Every time a child says 'I don't believe in fairies' there is a little fairy somewhere that falls down dead." Barrie had said that. Or I'd told him that. I couldn't remember any more. "God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December." I'd laughed at that. "I don't want to care about the world that would do that," I'd told him, too. No, wait, that had been to Haley, not James.
But I do want to care. And that's the conundrum ...
"The apples I ate, my lord. The memories they returned. They raised ... questions."
"Yes. I imagine they would."
I hand him the bowl from the harvest. He nods, and takes it.
"I feel the need, my lord, to ... discuss certain events."
"Ah. You recall as well, though, that we discussed the matter at the time."
And, now, I do. He'd told me what to do. But -- "But ... why?"
"The answer will be available to you. Good will come of this, and then you will understand."
That is not enough. For once, it is not enough. I wonder -- does he realize that?
"There are those who have benefited as a result of our actions." A Royal We? "You will not be convinced by words."
"You are wise, my lord."
"I am a clever old beast who turns enemies and friends against each other, but usually for the greater good. Do you believe that?"
I nod. In agreement, or acknowledgment?
"Our Graf has enough clues. Talk with the Graf -- together you will find the truth."
Perhaps. "One last question, my lord. Why was my memory removed of this?"
"I thought that would be best. It is part of the protections we --" A different sense of we. "-- put around the memory of everyone."
And then he dismisses me, to decide what to do next ...
HG to Fungus
-You descend into the water like an old fashioned kelp diver…
Stan
-Cool…you’re a fish tank decoration.
Randy on Punishments effects on Miami
-I can see it now…There is some homeless kid with a stick and an apple chasing around some other homeless kid screaming “you must be punished because you’ve been very, very bad”.
HG to Sian
-So…What do you do?
Sian
-I push it back all back down.
Margie
-Yeah, because that’s what punishment is all about…avoiding her emotions. Shoving every thing down and back. Very Victorian.
Randy
-Yes, the three sue’s…Suppress, sublimate, and sustain.
Margie
-So, where is your stick?
Dave
-That’s what I’m trying to get back.
Randy
-What? A short stick?
Margie
-The short end of the stick?
Dave
-No…The shaft…
HG
-As Sian leaves you hear Lord Entropy call out “bring me a large barrel and some water!”
Stan
-Oh please, oh please, oh please…
HG
-No, no, no…I’m kidding.
Doyce
-Isn’t it sad that you can’t say hoe anymore with out thinking of ho.
Randy
-Well…What would you call it…
Dave
-Hrm…well it wouldn’t be spade, because a spade is a spade.
On the subject of the “Edger suit”
Fungus
-You know, you got to start with quality ingredients.
Margie
-Sian doesn’t play with anything?
Dave
-Hey…Sian has her stick back.
Doyce
-Fungus, the pigpen of Nobles…
Randy
-What do you call it when you create something or give a gift to Cammora?
Stan
-A mistake…
1.
Haley is badly shaken by her service to the dying and injured of Miami, but she points me to where she hid the apples -- in a wall behind a piano above the shelter. Curious. We shoosh away a few kids playing there. She offers to stay, but -- no. Something for me alone.
2.
Dear, sweet Mother of God. What have I done? And why?
Haley is still next door. I can hear her. I could talk to her, ask her for help, for explanation.
No, no time. Too much to do, always too much to do. And too much time has been lost -- the bitter reality of that clear to me now, even if I dare not contemplate it.
I put it down, put it aside, put it behind. I have done that far too much, but at least it feels natural, as so little does any more.
I sort and sift the remaining apples, culling only the ones most personal. And, yes, I include some referring to mhy Anchors, though only the briefest of memories, the most formal, agreements of cooperation, cooperative attempts to mete out punishment against the guilty. Surface seemings only. (And how much deeper is the truth? Do I know any more?)
3.
To the chancel. There is a Coast Guard cutter there I can take to Lord Entropy's Chancel.
I enter Lord Entropy's court. Many murmers as my burden is seen, as if I cannot hear them. The consensus is that I've brought far more than most do, to the wonderment of all.
Entropy is pleased. How nice. He invites me to a hunt. I think not. "Duty calls," I tell him, without irony. "Have a nice day, Sian," he replies, a personal note that is also most unusual. Fine.
As I depart, I hear another comment. "Manipulation, then, or an attempt to climb at the court. Or else, of course, utter ignorance." I glance at the speaker. Penelope, Marquessa of Memory. If I let myself consider it, I'll scream. Instead, I let my mien show that I am not to be trifled with. Let her consider that.
Meon is there. I snub him. I am in no mood for any more, though I owe him thanks for his actions upon the Miami rooftops.
4.
It is only later I consider the message I conveyed with my large load of apples: that I have far less than they to hide, even from Entropy. I'm over the ocean, then, so nobody save a few fishermen can hear my cry, and they think it is merely seagulls.
I let my vision slip to the Mystic. Mother Ocean roils below. Sprites of sea and air play amidst the dolphins. Bitterly poignant, knowing what I know now. Isn't that annoying?
Yes, it is.
5.
I return to the Courthouse, and try to brief Cathetel on what I've been up to.
I tell him of the bribe, of my quest, my involvement in the battle, and my visit to Lord Entropy. In turn, he speaks of Tomas being still slow to heal, hampering the investigation. And Crime had lost an anchor, and withdrawn for a time, further weakning us.
I do not speak in detail of the second apple, nor at all of the third. I will -- some day. Perhaps soon. There is much I must understand, and much else I must accept understanding of, a subtle difference.
6.
I greet Fungus on the way out. I try to be more open, more friendly. I am glad to see her. In a strange way, I value her more for what has passed in the meantime. It comes out odd, jaunty, ringing false. Irony.
It tells me a bit of what has passed, of the assignments and duties she's taken on. I wonder that it is alone in this, and know I should help. I will, but there are still other things that demand my attention first, and there is naught that seems so urgent it cannot wait on a few hours.
At the very least, I need to talk with my Anchors.
Fungus seems irritated by this.
7.
I am contacted by Mariska, using one of the new, strange technologies that has been developed in the Chancel to tie us together. An interesting innovation, and of obvious advantage. I wonder why we have not done this before.
She, and Electricity, are involved in an Excrucian redoubt at the Watergate Hotel in Washington, DC. I remember that place, all too well. I hate politics. Even in my own time, the punishment for wrongdoing is much more subtle than I care for. Things are better now, but still maddening.
At any rate, there has been fighting, and injury, and a fugitive to locate. Discussion ensues over whether I should come through to assist, be held in reserve, or what. I feel vaguely unhappy about being dragged yet further from my course (especially after putting off Fungus).
We shall see.
[Some very sketch game notes, I fear.]
FUNGUS
Sitting on a personal mat of fungus as the AWAC circles overhead, and Czerny dives into the water to call the Bronze Man to task. It descends with him, looking like a deep sea diver. Bronze Man comes along, then comes to a stop. It orders the Bronze Man to "surrender and reveal your plans."
Bronze Man now a shocked and panicking street person. Fungus envelopes him and takes him to the surface.
Alejandro contacts via the ear bud. "Your ... person is in the hospital ..."
Fungus heads over immediately. Czerny will take the street guy to the chancel. The hospital is still in good shape.
Moonbeam's in bad shape, needing constant resuccitation. In the Mythic, there's a swirling melee of little red Picts decimating villagers. Up at the place where you'd burn witches, Moonbeam's wounded and trying to organize the troops, none of whom are listening to her.
PUNISHMENT
Back in Miami, looking for Haley. She's in the midst of horror, helping out at a homeless shelter. Doing Something, but apparently just doing a soup kitchen.
Haley is unhappy. Not happy with Punishment's comfort that the guy is being punished. "Oh ... you want ... your thing."
Recover third unknown apple and eat. No time to dwell upon it. Pull out some Anchor info. Nothing critical. Meetings, cooperations to apprehend and punish. Add to the basket.
Travel to LE's chancel. Folks impressed/daunted/scornful of the number of apples she's brought. LE is pleased, invites her to hunt. She declines and leaves, with her stick.
GUILT
Hotel. Pretty boy. Life is good. Watergate Hotel, an excrucian hide-out, at least where the faux Guilt is.
The hotel's image shifts. Sometimes a great black tower. Sometimes the hotel, with the windows running with blood.
Mariska's questioning. Electricity advises.
Surveillance. Calling in a van of FBI guys, some paparrazi, etc., to use as troops.
Spender's guys. Automatic fire. Duplicate runs, changing form.
Electricity attacks gunners from the window.
... [distracted by something]
Electricity makes the path writhe, then supercharges some bullets after Pretty Boy. Kills him.
FUNGUS
Leaps to the fray. Attackers beaten back. Attacks are coming every half hour or so.
Meanwhile, in the Prosaic, the Graf used fungal growths to stop hemmorhaging. Her body is shattered, but far better than unprotected mortals from the area. Stabilized.
Goes to follow up with others about the missing Pretty Boy.
Someone informs her that Cathetel is summoning everyone.
PUNISHMENT
Flying back. A bitter freedom.
Look at the Mythic. Mother Ocean. Air sprites and wave sprites.
But somehow oddly poignant. Isn't that annoying? Yes.
Back to Cathetel. Courthouse. Ear fungus. On the network.
Brief Cathetel on bribe, quest, apples.
Tomas is still healing, and slowly.
Crime has lost an Anchor -- has taken a leave.
Mention Apples 1 and 2. But ... later for #3.
Greets Fungus on the way out. Seems ... friendly. And open. And glad to see her.
Tell about Crime.
Speak with Anchors?
Edgar Suit
Cixtian
Guilt's dupe.
Source of Excrucian weapons -- ((1) Pen Lo's weapons split up by two I chancels, the other guys, us, and the Cammorans. Then someone of that group hid them in another chancel -- Autumn, Extinct, Eternity. Then moved to us, planted, to be mistaken for those from the Ex ship --> the ones in the light house. (2) We never saw the ones referred to in the fake contract, but we know that they were Ex wepaons, but not immediately identifiable as both. Carted off by machinery/metal creature; left the ship by the room Pretty Boy (Deceiver) was in; lead on a chancel (Jotunheim) where such a clank would be from.
Any info the other way? Um ... busy at Lord Entropy's court.
Mariska - any anchor to send to DC? Donner is dancing in puddle of blood. Deceiver has moved on. Blind Lie works,
(Meanwhile, Fungus wants to have the building (Watergate) condemned.)
Blood hound? Punishment will come through, via faerie rings. [I think.]
EOF
I rose from a kneeling position with slight difficulty; the process of being summoned has become painful since my recent transformation.
The usual clouds of smoke and incense were dissipating, my summoner stood before me wearing a look of smug satisfaction. He was very young, not past thirty by appearance or aura.
“Having conjured thee from the bowels of Hell, I abjure thee to obey my commands, with the power of the Names granted to me by the holy scripts of…”
Ah, he had used the Books of Uld. A complex and difficult ritual written by a pedophilic priest in the early fifteenth century who claimed to receive visions from the Christian god. I had spoken briefly with Uld during his painful and elongated death; his visions mostly involved cherubs and demons and I never did discover the source of his power.
“…and do firmly bind thy will to my bidding with no chance of rebel or dispute. Further, I chain thee to the altar of the great and all-knowing…”
The ritual of Uld had not been used in some few hundred years, I believed his writings had all been destroyed, but if there is one thing that secret cabals of wizards do well, it is the resurrection of dead knowledge. There always seems to be some secreted parchments or ghostly wizard willing to pass on the clandestine teachings.
“…Rasthuseus of Aramathea and the sacred texts of his followers.” He paused for breath, the rite called for the next part to be spoken in one sentence. “Here be the powers and bindings that hold thee true and with the strength of divine authority granted me by…”
The last time the Uld rite had been used, I was imprisoned in the sword that I later became; he who wielded me had been pulled through as well and was not amused by the situation. The details of that incident were hazy, as most of my memories of that time, but I remember drinking deeply of lifeblood and being sheathed uncleaned. I did not think that this time would be much different.
“Why have you summoned me?” I interrupted him. I have to give him credit, he did not pause in his speech. I stepped out of the pentacle of blood and asked again, “Why have you summoned me?” This gave him pause.
“You…you are bound to my will and must obey my commands.” His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“You should consider carefully before binding Death to you, mortal. I will ask once more. Why have you summoned me?”
“My brother,” he pointed toward a metal gurney where a young boy lay, attached to convoluted medical equipment, blinking and beeping quietly. “I command you to…” His eyes flicked to the blood pentacle I had stepped out of. “I ask that you spare him. He’s too young to die.”
“Nothing is too young to die.” I concentrated on the boy for a moment. “It is his time.”
“No. I offer many in exchange for him. He gestured to a window through which moonlight streamed. Outside, I could see two hundred people standing in straight lines, all wearing white robes. “I offer you these in place of my brother.”
“That does not suffice. In the time that we have been speaking, ten times that number have died. Your kind always thinks in the same way. The lives of many can buy the life of one. No doubt you believe that immortality can be achieved in the same manner.” I waved a hand toward the window, “These already belong to me, all I need do is wait. It is your brother’s time, to change that would take effort and would not be without repercussion.”
The young man crossed his arms over his chest to hide the panic rising in him. “You desire something more precious then? Something unique? I have a matchless collection of…”
“Baubles,” I interrupted him. “Trinkets and gadgets that humans use in vain attempts to elevate themselves beyond what they are. You have summoned me, believing that summons infers control. You will waste no more of my time.” I crooked a finger toward him, feeling his life snag on the tip.
“Wait!” he choked, hands flying to his throat in a hopeless attempt to hold his life in.
Before he could make the offer of his brother’s life for his own, I said, “You will tell me where you found the ritual of Uld, and how many others know of it. You will cease all practice of magic and never again meddle in my affairs.” He was beginning to turn gray, his heels began to tap the floor as I lifted him. He fell to the floor with a thud as I released him.
One hand to his throat, he pointed with shaking hand to a corner desk behind me. Glancing through the papers there, I saw nothing.
“Where?” I asked.
He pointed again, more urgently, at the computer monitor on the desk. I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. The monitor turned on with a click and there on the screen was the ritual of Uld. The top of the page read ‘Newsgroups/Magic’. There was a line of skeletons dancing up and down one side of the page, tipping their top hats as they danced.
I would have to speak with Donner about this.
NY Times headline: New Computer Virus Has Deadly Effects
What is your character's motto, in ten words or less? Quotes, formal and informal mottoes encouraged.
(Respond in Comments.)
This is what happens when Prosaic Reality has to deal with the reappearance of places like The First Castle are suddenly deChanceled.
ATAMI, Shizuoka Prefecture-Archaeologists say they may have found ruins of a submerged city from the Kamakura Period (1192-1333) off the coast of Shizuoka Prefecture.
"Your demands are as nothing to me!" The castle bellowed from every arrow-slit. "I am Radmonghast! I am impenetrable! I give you this one chance to depart in shame. Do otherwise and I will rain arrows upon you, pour molten sand from my turrets, and sally forth my knights to leave their horseshoe footprints in your bloodied remains.""I have," I said calmly, "a map."
"Then let it guide you elsewhere!" Radmonghast thundered. Its people lined the causeway to shriek defiance.
"I also have," I continued, "A bottle of white-out."
After a long pause, a meek voice drifted across the moat from a single barely open window. "What is thy will, my Lord?" the chastened castle asked.
- from "Service Beyond the Soul", Tony Lower-Basch
Rites can do interesting things.
Anyway, on Saturday, the question of Rites came up.
Hmm. That's unclear. What do I mean by that?
They're not mortal magic.
They're not noble miracles.
They're not gifts.
What are they?
Yes, we can look at the list of Rites in the Gifts section of the book and see what they *do* (in many ways, they accomplish things that Noble miracles can't), but how do you explain them? How do you come up with guidelines for them?
IC, they seem like baby's attempt at Imperial (Imperator) Miracles. They're referred to as "Simple Rites" in the book, so it's quite likely they're a lesser form of Imperial miracle, hence "Simple" Rites. People using them are connecting to the Spirit World to create a sort of short-cut in the Prosaic/Mythic world. Greater Rites are beyond the scope of mortals and most Powers, presumably because they require the sort of understanding of the Spirit World that only Imperators have.
OOC, they seem to be intended for use when Nobles should clearly, as demigods, be able to do something, but there isn't an explicit mechanic for it. The default is "Humans can't do it, so it's not Aspect, and it's not Domain or Realm, so it's a Rite and depends somehow on Spirit." (In a sense, they're spirit miracles?)
Rituals and Magic Rites are much like programs and formulas. They are a methodology that taps into the very threads of Spiritus Dei that Creation is patterned from. In essence, the seeds for these powers exist in the framework of Reality already. In database talk, they would be stored procedures, so reality is sitting on some stored procedures and rituals are the database queries that access them. Results tend to be somewhat consistant and reliable. Cause and Effect. Maybe they are both less and more than Noble Miracles... maybe they're just how Spirit Miracles express themselves.
How to I make new ones? How do I design rules for them, since they are different from many other bits of Nobilis? (Though they still fit the feel of the genre, to me.)
Example: The Nettle Rite is Simple and Reliable, but not really very precise -- who knows, really, what kind of results you'll get, if any? The Anchoring Rite (which actually has some other name that I can't recall) is... Reliable and Precise -- on the surface, it also looks Simple (feed the mortal tears or blood), but when you realize that it requires you either Hate or Love of the subject... that's not simple, and may be quite time-consuming.
Thoughts?
So, Simple Rites:
1. Touch on the Underpinings of Creation (the Spirit World), manipulating things in the Mythic/Prosaic in some way that is not always entirely understood, even by the person doing the Rite.
2. Are strongly tied to Spirit -- while pretty much everyone knows the at least five of the "Big Six" rituals in the book (Nettle, Anchoring, Redtooth, Passage, Witchhunter, Holy Fire) -- other less-common Rites exist -- knowledge of such rites and the design of new Rites falls largely to those more closely connected to their Spirit (3+).
3. May (for a Noble) be two of these three things: Simple, Precise, or Reliable.
Here's another thought: what are some Rites that would make sense to develop, and does the stuff I've mentioned above concur with these thoughts?
*The Rite of Ill-born Spring*This rite is usually performed by Nobles who wish to know when and where the Estates of a fallen member of the Familia next become enNobled. It may only be performed by a member of the appropriate Familia, though once the rite is set in motion, anyone may observe the physical results.
The rite consists of planting the seeds of the flower(s) of each Estate one wishes to inquire after, in soil that has been mixed with dried petals from a blossom of the flower(s) from the design of the Noble that previously held the Estate. The seeds must be watered with the tears of one of the surviving Nobles for a day and a night to complete the ritual.
The seeds of a fallen Estate will remain dormant until a new noble is chosen for it (unconfirmed reports say that the rite occasionally reveals incipient commencements as well). Near sunset of that day, the seeds related to that Estate will suddenly sprout, growing to full maturity in a matter of minutes, and blossoming in full splendor in the light of the dying sun.
Advanced practitioners of this rite (those with high Spirit) may get results that enable them to gain greater insight into the nature of their new Familia by observing the growth of the flowers. For example, if two flowers of seperate Estates are suddenly twining together, it could indicate a potential close affinity or alliance between the two new nobles, or the fact that both estates are now held by the same Noble. Unusually pale blossoms could indicate a nascent Power of the Dark, unusually vivid ones may mean a power of the Light or Heaven, flowers that send roots, stems, or runners outside the confines of the vessel used for the rite might indicate a power of the Wild, etc.
Once mature, the miraculous blossoms will reveal hints of the location and identity of the new Noble. (In game terms, the Noble uses a level 0 realm miracle to feel for the connections between her own Estate and that of the new Noble, using the blossom as a bridge.)
Unfortunately, Nobles are slippery (at best) when it comes to divination, and divination itself is an unreliable power, so even the clearest of these hints takes the form of vague impressions and cryptic omens. Of course, once the Noble has correctly interpreted the basic place, it's usually a relatively simple matter to go there and use The Sight to discern who is a Noble and who is not.
Obviously, this rite is a useful tool, but one that most Nobles hope never to need.
Simple. Reliable. Not Precise. Seems to work.
What else have we seen with regards to non-book rituals?
- There's one that lets you tell where a currently open gate is directed -- probably Simple, Precise, but unreliable (auctoritas could mess it up, as may efforts by the Gatemaker... also requires you be near the Gate itself, and possibly that you've been where you're going.)
Here's another couple we've used:
Slow Bloom RitualEach morning, he arises with the dawn. Before breaking his fast, he goes to the garden and carefully examines every inch of soil. Sometimes, a tender green shoot pokes tentatively through the earth, yearning for warmth and light.
He smiles. His heart swells with pride. Then he crushes it beneath his boot. These shall only flower when he is no more. His harvest is a bitter one.
- Scorpion's Garden, by Anselm MarkoffThe Slow Bloom ritual captures a miracle in the heart of a seed. To activate the ritual, the Noble need only perform the miracle while holding the seed, and spend two SMPs. The miracle will lie quiescent in the seed until the flower blooms, at which point the miracle will be performed as if the Noble had just done so. The target, intent, range and penetration of the Miracle must be set when the Slow Bloom ritual is performed. The miracle can also be used on a closed flower, one that will open again at dawn, in which case the miracle will be activated when the flower opens. The caster of the ritual may cancel the coming miracle by merely touching the seed and willing it so, but any miracle points spent are still expended. Many Nobles have boxes of seeds containing stored Miracles, which will bloom after they have been slain or imprisoned. Wise assassins strike first at greenhouses.
Simple, Precise, unreliable.
The Nameless "Guilt" Rite
This was the one we used (tied to a Tamarisk bloom) to cause the flower to bloom when in the presence of the person who had commited a crime against the person in question. Sort of a Witchhunter Rite crossed with a Geiger Counter. I'd say that was Simple, Reliable, but Imprecise (since even after it bloomed it didn't really tell you specifics, and it performed in a number of unexpected ways (it bloomed both around the Sword, and around Friendship, which you weren't expecting).
Actually, this would be a good 'anti-Nettle' Rite... you could use to figure out who Nettled you just so you could be sure you were getting revenge on the right person.
During a discussion of who would be doing quotes/game log:
Lee: "But...I did quotes last time."
De/Jackie : "You weren't here last time."
Lee: "Um. I was here in spirit, 'twas the flesh that was weak." (looking around for sypathy and finding naught) "Right. I'm doing quotes, aren't I."
During a discussion of the magical critters in our chancel:
HG: "So with the extra points you've got, it basically upgrades your magical creatures."
Jackie: "How so?"
HG: "Now you've got actual unicorns, instead of horses with horns taped to their foreheads."
Discussing the Nettle Rite and how it works:
HG: "It's pretty simple once you've done the necessary things, basically just five words."
De: "Yeah, 'Nanner nanner boo boo."
Lee's thought bubble: "That's four words. Glad I get to do quotes this session..."
Discussing the Excrucian that had been stapled to the floor of Lord Entropy's hall.:
Randy: "We bring in the cast of 'Stomp' and watch the show."
De: "Lord Entropy of the Dance."
Terminus speaking to Entropy:
Terminus: "Lord Entropy, I have recently acquired a...umm. What do you call it?"
Jackie: "Conscience?"
Lee's thought bubble "Shaddap, you."
Discussing how the comm units work in our sister chancel:
Lee: "Fungus hawks a loogie into your ear."