un: raven master - audio | day ii

[pulvisetumbra]

Good afternoon. As ever, we have scant time for well wishes and compliments. This is the Merchant. To those freshly in my care, I bid greetings and remain at your service. To the rest: your ongoing survival is a matter of celebration.

( And... incredulity, though he will not be the man to say so. )

I am given to understand you remain in — a part of Yancai. I speak to you from five years onwards. We have succeeded to break the time's weave for precisely one hour to allow this communication, after which I regret to bid my leave. Let us employ our time wisely.

My hope and concern is that, in your attempts to remedy the harms of this village, you will succeed, as you have before, and break the flow of time. If you do — when you do, know this: just as there are territories outside of land, there are those beyond time. Often, they are wastelands or exist independently under the rule of tyrants without reason.

( A distasteful concept to him, for how his voice sours. ) Many of Akhuras' least... favoured sorcerers were exiled in such pockets. I hold minimal sway there, past episodes of commerce.

( Hesitantly: ) If you arrive in such regions, seek out waypoints bearing the carvings of an eye with the sun for a pupil. They were put in place to return Ellethian trade caravans to their true place in time.

( And might, on this occasion, serve the party. ) If you do not break time, if you merely wait out Yancai's next transition and return to five years onwards organically, ignore my cautions. Either way: see what may be gleaned from this Yancai of old. I trust no village whose House of Commerce once dealt on friendly terms with the warlord Anurr.

( ooc: please assume all interaction with the Merchant on this post happens within the span of an IC hour — thank you! )

Comments

[pulvisetumbra]

As I understand, a... regrettable but common sickness. This was before the dead emerged.

We all suffer the misfortunes of life, Wrathion. We do not all betray the world for it.

[blackscales]

Quite so, but he seems to have not moved on from this. I wondered if it had twisted his goal, from the immortality Ellethia once sought to a way to bring back his daughter.

[pulvisetumbra]

( Quieter now, softened. )

That... is within the realm of both possibility and his character. Yes.

[blackscales]

I recall he told Kamala that the undead were a... natural state of things. That certainly is something someone would want to believe, if they were on a path to raise their daughter.

Can you describe the sickness she suffered?

[ Wrathion is looking for patterns, always, threads of connections even where there may be none. ]

[pulvisetumbra]

No. I was not present to this man's personal tragedies.

All I can say with certainty is that with was not the work of sorcery, the supernatural or anything untoward. Illness happens, Wrathion. Even to children.

[blackscales]

I hadn't meant to suggest it did, I only wondered if it related to the sickness the Huntress' child now spreads. If he had echoed it in some way, if there might be meaning to be found in the abilities he grants -- some hint towards what his final goal is.

[ Professional thinker and also, professional overthinker Wrathion. ]

[pulvisetumbra]

He didn't give that child power. That cursed volcano did.

But he used him. Disgusting man.

[blackscales]

You're certain all of it was the volcano? The child had a connection to the volcano, I know, but beyond spreading his sickness he could also control the undead. Call them, undo their deathly state for a moment.

[pulvisetumbra]

I make no business of being certain. But I believe that child is... wont to become more than even Matthias may contain. But who is to say?

[blackscales]

It's quite possible.

[ Murmured under his breath, thoughtful. Then, more assured: ]

The beacons -- what was their original purpose? The one here had a trap, one that seemed designed to imprison undead. If they are attracted to them, it would make sense why they are everywhere we seek the beacons.

[pulvisetumbra]

Another mystery. Old technology, to be certain. Preceded us. This is why, regrettably, we could not offer to revive crumbling beacons. Why we search and do not create them.

We do not know how.

[blackscales]

I wondered if Mathias might be interested in them too. If that might be part of why he seemed connected to every place we travelled, he was searching for a beacon with more power perhaps.

[pulvisetumbra]

Perhaps. Though often citadels of importance were constructed on or around beacons. The dead may simply be after power.

[blackscales]

I see.

[ That does make sense. ]

We'll need more data than to know for sure. Thank you for your time.

[ He can be polite, when he wants to be! ]

[pulvisetumbra]

Entirely welcome.