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pulvisetumbra) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
eastbound2022-10-16 07:48 pm
audio | user name: raven master
( White sound, fragments of murmurs. Two men and a woman drowned by the tinny crescendo of a strained musical instrument. The music rises shrill and shrill, until it nearly deafens — then all is inexplicably quiet. At last, a man’s voice: )
...good afternoon. Following your... discoveries in Serthica, it appeared only prudent to reinforce every measure that protects our conversations. Our discretion is your survival.
You speak to the Merchant. We number a wealth of new... associates. I bid you welcome. Know this: whatever trials await you in your travels, they are as nothing before the ruthless undead enslavement the warlords would have intended you.
( A pause, then carefully: ) You are in Serthica. My initial recommendation was for you all to investigate which of the citadel’s halves houses undead and unnatural creatures. Since, Karsa has relayed the results of your efforts.
If I follow well, then you have unveiled the Remembrance insurgent group whose mannequins gain human likeness. I hope we have not chosen to bring home cursed dolls. ( His gritting teeth suggest otherwise. ) You have found that the old sickness that once splintered Serthica remains... alive. To that end, I salute the sacrifice of Master McCoy. We shall aim to recover your health, sir. And there is the matter of dragons, some living, some... troubled.
( A long, deep sigh rip from him. ) I fear Eidris and Minaras may have both been compromised. I first urged you to keep your head bowed and await the yearly opening of Serthica’s Neutral Zone beacon. We can no longer afford this passiveness. We must know what we protect against and how deeply the rot of Serthica runs.
The great Neutral Zone clock of Vassarizhia is the old heart of Serthica. Its beats regulate the rise and fall of Eidris and Minaras. Before the sundering, it was Serthica’s foremost watchtower, with vantage across the citadel whole. Karsa toils to finalise magical instruments that will allow us to forcibly but briefly reveal the state of this world, if you can reach the topmost levels of Vassarizhia and its enhanced telescope and watch monitors. I understand security will ease within the week, when Eidris and Serthica hold further summits.
( And now, a sprawling silence: ) As for the... white wanderer. I thank the consummate professionalism of Master Constantine and Mistress Pitts in delivering the uniforms of Ellethia. I understand one such garment was worn by the man who visited you during the Unwinding. The same intruder who haunted Ke-Waihu.
Let us be candid. I believe we speak of a former member of the institute of technology and magic of Ellethia, where the undead first surfaced. If this is correct, I can only recommend caution. I cannot say if the white wanderer is friend or foe. I know my preference.
Irrespective of this: onwards, upwards. To Vassarizhia. I leave this with you.
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Your death, any of your deaths, would be catastrophic to us. You have not encountered the undead lieges. You do not know how they would weaponise you.
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I have nothing they could possibly want. I'm a neurosurgeon, for Christ's sake, I can't cast spells or– or transform into a werewolf, or teleport or summon demons or engineer weapons of war.
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Therefore, I see value in denying them access to you. Call it pettiness, if you choose.
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...yeah. I believe you there.
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If we cannot... heal your sickness, you understand we must convert it to advantage. Correct?
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...are they sentient?
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I implore you to realise that simply because I have not situated you at the firing end of a cannon does not mean we are at peace.
cw for death, injury, gore etc etc
Don't talk to me like I'm some tenderfoot who's never seen conflict. I lost a good amount of friends and colleagues to a madman before I got here. I helped carry my predecessor's body to the morgue because a quarter of our medical staff died along with him when our main sickbay was attacked. I pulled a parasite off a man's brain stem in the middle of a firefight, patched up the survivors of a planetary genocide, and scrubbed scorched human viscera off the bulkheads. Does that sound idealistic to you, sir?
( he just sounds numb now, as hollow as he feels. )
This disease is useless as any kind of tool against the undead unless it can be brought to heel first. That's not optimism, that's reality. We find a cure first, or we don't, and this comes with me when I go.
And I'll find a way to make it stick.
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( He respects the moment enough to give it sharp, crystalline silence. Then: )
Perhaps I am not alone in pettiness.
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Folks brought back herbs from the– the other world, that's proven useful against the disease. Juniper, and rosemary, of all things. Can you get us more?
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