Player Characters involved: Vessel, Feyjin, Sheila
NPCs Involved: The Council of 13 Elders of the Clan of Auton, The Founder
"That... is not... for you."
A relatively loud thud is heard somewhere in the ship as Vessel stumbles upright, having Misty Stepped a bit too far up to get onto the ship. Their expression is even more void and emotionless than ever, and Rava is making concerned bird noises as she nestles into the scarf she made into a monk-like hat/nest for Vessel/herself. As they are trying to get up, they make grunt-like noises of increasing intensity, before releasing a semi-mechanical howl of pain. In front of them are three shiny cyan-blue crystals of deep purity, their translucent color like the finest of stained-glass panes. They mutter something in Infernal before howling again. It seems to be in reference to the three crystals in front of them.
Feyjin is currently heaving her guts up on deck, still getting her sea(?)/air(?) legs underneath her as she is not used to air travel long-term.
Any present on the HMS Deuces Wild would hear distorted voices emanating from Vessel's head. The familiar mechanical voice is merely a harsh, hard consonant and syllable backing track of Draconic to the sounds of two conflicting voices in two other, different languages: Feyjin could determine that one is Abyssal, and the other Infernal, but not which voice is which, as they both tended to swap between which they were arguing in. There were instances where the Draconic would stop, replaced with Vessel's mechanical intonations of Infernal. Rava squalks and digs something out of Vessel's bag, a small medical kit scavenged during the aftermath of recent events, and pulls out two tablets for Feyjin, dropping them in her hand before giving two short caws. In birdspeak: "Motion sickness relief." However, the caws were being drowned out by the cacophony emanating from the being.
Feyjin takes the hint and takes the meds, feeling better after a little time. She then turns her attention to the sound of a translator's nightmare, hearing bits and pieces of Vessel. She approaches slowly, not wanting to startle them. "Vessel, my friend... What's going on?"
Vessel is mostly reciting the following, with occasional responses to the other two: "One for the Clan. One for the Protectors. One for the Cult." Boros is split between trying to convince Vessel to 'take vengeance' from the Hawks, and arguing about the definition of vengeance with Jeb. Jeb is trying to explain vengeance because of a contract isn't real vengeance, and is lamenting the losses and failures of the recent events. As for why they're speaking in those languages: Infernal is the common tongue of all Clan of Auton members, and Abyssal a personal favorite of Jeb's, leading to Boros' learning of it. Once Feyjin approaches, the two voices continue to bicker, but a single word is uttered in Common as the backing ceases, as slow as molasses dripping out a barrel.
"...Father..."
Vessel is able to hear Feyjin, but their ability to parse her words is lacking, as they cannot gather the focus to listen to the external voice.
Feyjin takes a moment to cast Calm Emotions. She then pauses to translate the words in her head to something he can at least focus on and ease the language barrier when she speaks. She mutters in Infernal, "You are suffering. I recognize the pain. Show me your hurt. I will help it subside."
The voices quiet for a moment, but not as she casts Calm Emotions, as she utters her first syllable in Infernal.
"...where...did...you...go..." echoes out of Vessel, in a less... disturbed, more, almost sedated tone. Until Vessel is 'repaired' they are speaking Infernal.
Feyjin looks confused, not used to multiple inhabitants of an individual being so... Present. She looks to the crystals, taking a second to connect dots... Which causes her to scrunch her face up in confusion. She continues to speak in Infernal. "Who are you looking for?"
The calming of Vessel seems to work for a moment, but the question brought the three minds into agreement for just long enough to break the spell's hold on Vessel. "WHERE... IS... THE... FOUNDER..." the being's voice is louder now, being bolstered for a second with the combined voices of the tieflings.
"For fuck's sake... You robit-types are always prone to firing on too many cylinders. I told you to take a nap after yesterday and now look what's happened..." Feyjin touches the crystals in front of Vessel, watching their reaction. The nap comment was in reference to Vessel appearing to not rest the day or so before the festival of Asar Ogalas.
As Feyjin begins to reach for one, Vessel instinctively summons their hammer from the shadows. "That... is not... for you."
Instead of reaching out after this, she takes a closer look at the crystals in front of her.
The crystals are stained on one edge, but apart from the stain, about one half of each is completely clean, with a consistent color throughout the half, while the other half's colors begin to fade almost exactly from where the stain bisects the crystal, as if exposed to the elements.
"These look torn out of something. Vessel, Boros, whoever is in there currently - I'm not going to do anything to these... Just tell me where they're from. I want to help you."
The stains on the crystals become obvious as Feyjin notice a trail of a brownish-reddish substance slowly drip from the back of Vessel's robe.
Feyjin takes note of the substance from Vessel and on the crystals. "Ah... Well - no wonder you're a fucking mess. Your bits aren't where they're supposed to be. But... I'm not sure putting them back is the right idea yet either..." Feyjin looks around to make sure no one is watching and then looks to her friend, muttering an incantation. She hold her hand in front of Vessel. "Surrender," she instructs as she casts Command.
Vessel returns their weapon to its place in the shadows. The voices do not stop, but they seem substantially quieter after the spell. "If you wish to speak, do it now." They glance at their 'bits' and place their hands on their head, as if covering their nonexistent ears in pain.
Feyjin works quickly, taking advantage of the seconds she has to work before the spell wears off. "I am going to try to make this stop - But it will be painful in the beginning." She holds on to the magic gripping Vessel. "Do not move - I would hate to witness what happens if I miss. Please forgive me, Friend."
Vessel relaxes for a few moments, the spells' effect beginning to wean itself off, steadying themselves to follow the last bit of the instructions.
Number 12: Jeb(ediah B. Samson)
As Feyjin awakes into the Soul Scape, her senses soon become near overloaded with the lights, sounds, and screams that permeate Crook's Creek. Feyjin stands right outside of the entrance to the Chateau Non Loft, and enters after rasping on the door twice in quick succession. KNOCKKNOCK. She finds herself within a room mid-construction, and a pair of Tieflings occupy the space. The elder one appears in fine robes, carrying an ornately illuminated manuscript. The younger has in his hands a set of Mason's tools, currently chipping away at some stones in order to leave a flat surface for the wall. It appears as if the two are locked in academic argument, the elder attempting to instruct the younger on the finer points of debate.
"Um... Hello?" Feyjin has no idea who these people are - but if they're the first she's seeing in Vessel's soul-bits... Then she assumes they must be important.
Feyjin hears a familiar voice as the elder turns to her and gasps. He issues an instruction in Infernal, as the young Tiefling switches his tools for a book, similarly illuminated as to the text in the elders hand. She can recognize the elder voice as the one less likely to emanate out of Vessel, although it's at least a few years more youthful.
The instruction is asking for a phrase in Infernal, however she seems to recognize in the phrasing of his instruction a few words that Vessel has muttered in the past.
Feyjin takes this with extreme caution, and is going to try and persuade her way into hopefully being not blasted apart.
Feyjin doesn’t know what comes over her, but the rest of the words seem to flow out of her, as if she always knew them: “Drink of the font of knowledge; free yourself. As hellish as something may seem, in the end it is up to the actor to make it good or evil.” The elder Tiefling is impressed, but concerned. “Oh my… either you’re a natural, or we have a leak. I’m just gonna assume the former. You are?”
"A friend. But you can call me -" She pauses for a moment, debating on actually giving her name. Egh, fuck it. This is all inside Vessel's head anyways."You can call me Feyjin."
The elder Tiefling hops with joy as he introduces himself, extending his hand out for her to shake. “My name is Jeb, and I am the current owner and purveyor of the Chateau non Loft. This little gentleman here…” he stops the younger tiefling from his work on the walls. “This little guy here is my buddy Boros. He’s my newest and best student, isn’t that right?” Boros nods, but refuses to fully turn and acknowledge the Halfling.
Feyjin raises an eyebrow in interest, now putting names to faces. "He seems like quite the astute individual. And my apologies for butting in on you both."
“Not at all! I just… didn’t expect any visitors today… especially not one unrecognized who knew exactly what to say…” he starts pacing frantically. His concern is starting to grow. “So, I’m sorry, how did you know all that again? Have you been here before? Do you know who we are?” Boros has fully ceased working on the walls for now, running behind Jeb’s cloak and poking his head out a bit from behind his legs.
"I have a friend of mine who has done similar - and I picked it up from them, and I'm one of those who are a sponge when it comes to the arcane. As for you - I've heard only your names, not faces... And at a far later time in life."
The man stumbles back as he hears that last bit, before sending a few quick rasps on the door down to the archives. “Oh, dear. That implies either you’re a time traveler… and considering your dress, I doubt that, no offense, or something else fucky is going on here. SHEILA! GET UP HERE!” As he yells, they all hear the clack of heels up a stone staircase. “I’m coming, I’m coming, jeez.” is heard from a voice akin to one of a 3-pack a day smoker.
She looks relatively the same as when Feyjin first met her, but in more casual clothing, and a few years younger.
"Well, this is a very interesting situation. But I guess you can say I'm a traveler of sort." She looks to the fairy, almost chuckling, "I didn't know you knew these fellows, Sheila dear. Feyjin, charmed I'm sure. I do hope I'm not causing too much of a fuss." She comments, almost certainly alerting them to the fact she's not from there.
"I'm sorry toots... I don't think I've met you yet..." Sheila sighs before making a small magical motion. "No fuss, hon..." She casts Detect Thoughts. "Except... maybe I will."
As Sheila prods into Feyjin's mind, she sees mostly thoughts of curiosity towards the individuals she's speaking to and the spell they're working on, mild amusement about the situation at hand, and intrigue at how this all connects into Vessel's current condition. Sheila lets out a small gasp as a tear starts falling from her left eye. She decides to probe deeper, but something is blocking her from getting through. She stumbles back, tears beginning to stream down her face. "Who... who the hell are you? Are you from that damn church? I told them I only joined so I could get my S.T.D!" She's starting to melt down, but she's able to ask one more extremely angry question before breaking down into a sobbing mess. "HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT VESSEL?" The name doesn't ring a bell with the two Tieflings.
Feyjin raises an eyebrow. "No. I'm not from the church. Vessel is my friend - currently I'm trying to help him. He's unwell where I'm from. He tore three crystals from himself. I'm trying to discover why - and how to fix it."
The last thing Feyjin says causes Sheila to flutter off back down into the archives. "O-oh dear. Well... I'll be quite frank, but I don't know of any Vessel you speak of... or any crystals. Sheila apparently knows the former, though. Follow me." Jeb leads the group down, but before bringing all of them down, casts Suggestion. "Follow, listen, and keep your hands to yourself." Boros is not targeted, but listens as if he was. Unfortunately, the spell fails, as Feyjin's tolerance to mind-altering majicks seems to be stronger in the Soul Scape.
"Oh, you're a clever one. Alright... was worth a shot." Jeb shakes his head, not willing to waste another higher level slot on a non-upcastable spell. "Just... promise me you're not going to do anything stupid down there, please? We've worked on this place for a long time."
"And I would ask that you refrain from coercing me via magic. I will obey your request - but I do not appreciate non-consensual spell craft on my person. I have too much to lose to risk wrecking things."
"And I don't appreciate strangers approaching this building and imitating the words of our members. It's nothing personal; first timers always get brought down in spells. You're lucky we didn't gag and handcuff you, 'friend'." She can sense a hint of sadness behind the tempered aggression, as if doing this is upsetting to him. "And so do we... you are now in the presence of over a century's worth of our organizations' work. Welcome to the Archives of the Clan of Auton." As you enter, you see a cavernous library, easily able to fit the room above inside it dozens of times over. Large bookcases span to the ceilings, small platforms in front of each, each outfitted with a small panel on a railing. The panel has four small arrows, each delicately carved out of stone. In addition, another one of those platforms, at least the size of 4 smaller ones combined, appears in front of the group at the bottom of the staircase. There's a whizzing noise that's audible throughout the echoing walls of the room. "Ah. I guess... that's what she's doing. Everyone on." Feyjin quietly follows, and makes a mental map of the place. "I unfortunately can't control where I end up when I travel. I was lucky to have landed amongst some people of importance. I did apologize earlier." "I know, and I accepted, which is why we're all here." Jeb and Boros stand behind Feyjin, and Jeb gestures to the panel before pressing the arrow pointing up. The platform they're on is about as wide as the gap between each set of bookcases, save the other platforms for each bookcase. A rough look reveals that she can see about 16 bookcases gapped evenly, 8 on each side of you. Once Jeb presses the button, the platform shakes, whirs to life, and moves to the end of the first bookcase, where they see a similar row of bookcases.
"I sincerely mean it when I say I am your friend. I have no intention on spilling your secrets, Jeb. Believe what you must." She is amazed by the collection of knowledge stored here... it's now no wonder why Vessel has such a passion for learning.
They continued throughout the library, dealing with the wild variability of the platform and other such events within the archives, sometimes hearing Sheila's anguished cries. "I'm coming honey... don't you worry."
A small microcosm of the subjects on the shelves of the archives were made visible. The list revealed is as follows:
- Essays on Governance, Pteris
- Archism, An and Otherwise
- Theories of Chaos
- Theories of Order
- A book from this shelf that fell off of it is labeled "Real, Complex, Functional, Dysfunctional, Simple, and Imaginary Analysis: An Introduction to Order Theory"
- Maps, Mazes and Exploration Notes
- Liars, Legions and Dungeons
- Magic, Medicines and Mathematics
- Magical Substances, Licit and Otherwise
- This shelf also contained one of Jeb's many stashes of Wizard Weed, a substance he purchased from Cali's Cheats, much to his own chagrin (as good as it was).
- Medical Substances, Licit and Otherwise
- This also contained a stash of Jeb's.
- Medical Procedures and Processes
- Mana, Weave, Artifice and Artillery
By some miracle, they were able to reach the side of the archives that Sheila had ran off to, after some well timed percussive maintenance by the young Boros. The platform continued to whir until it maked its way to a standard librarians desk, next to a chamber with multiple locking doors in a row. In front of it... Sheila is bawling on her hands and knees, putting one hand on the door. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
Feyjin immediately casts Calm Emotions again. "Sheila... I'm sorry if I did something, I didn't mean to shock you."
Sheila chooses to fail, starting to regain her composure. "It's... alright. I still have no idea what the hell is going on, but coming over here..." She strokes the door lightly. There's no window into there, but by the way Sheila is acting, she can tell Vessel is in there. "We can't get in. It's... been locked for decades. But to be frank... that's for good reason."
She pauses for a moment. "Obviously... you know Vessel, somehow. You said that before I ran off. But... that can't be possible. I'm the only one still here that's met them, and you're a lot younger than me darling. Newer members have heard stories, tales... hell, I'm sure that both of these youngins have their fair share of rumors. But they don't know Vessel; they don't know their purpose. Do you... want to know?"
"I would. The Vessel I know doesn't know or remember their purpose as far as I'm aware... Perhaps this will offer some insight into their condition."
"Well... I doubt it. If you know them, then they're awake. I wonder whose fault that'd be..." She shoots a glare at Boros, the child tiefling back to cowering behind Jeb. "At least, probably not mine, considering you recognized me. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Vessel has a twofold purpose: their job, which is what they're currently assigned, is to act as the Clan of Auton's backup plan, a last resort if you will. You see, this fine, if childish, gentleman who led you all down here is our Wizened Elder, a title coined by the Founder, as he sought knowledge above all else, and didn't know his true age and just assumed he was old. Jeb is our leader, and he has a purpose too. I have divined that Jeb will one day lead the Clan into involvement with our largest threat yet... maybe a threat to the entirety of the realm. But it is not Jeb who will fulfill this duty. Nor will it be Jeb's successor, when he is called away from this plane, and caused to lead the next Elder with the combined knowledge of the previous ones. I suspect... it may be Vessel. These are dark times coming for our order and our world..."
"Ah, damn it, I'm rambling again. The... other purpose. The Founder wanted very little; he wanted knowledge and the freedom to share it, he wanted to teach and learn with others, he wanted others to be freed... and he wanted a family. The Clan became his family for a few years... but once Vessel agreed to become the Clan's backup plan... the Founder went AWOL."
"Interesting. There's quite a dark time occurring when I'm from... But that's not relevant."
"Ah, I'm sure you're tough enough to handle it... goodbye, sug." Feyjin starts to feel her connection into this room fade, returning to the front of the Chateau non Loft. The door back into it is locked for now, but she smell a familiar tinge of smoke... the smell of the same stash that Jeb was smoking before.
Number 13: Boros (H. Gathers)
The smoke leads Feyjin down the slum streets of Crook’s Creek; the smells and sounds overpowering. It was a stroke of sheer luck that she had made it through without attracting the attention of any street toughs, but maybe it was just a desire from all of them to not have to bend down. The smoke eventually leads her to a small neighborhood of nigh-condemned buildings. The distinctive sound of Infernal’s harsh tones echo from the same path of the smoke, but she cannot make out the words.
Feyjin carefully (stealthily) walks towards the speech.
Feyjin slowly and carefully approached the house there the voices were coming from. She’s able to hear one voice in particular, somewhat familiar, but she can’t place it yet. The smokey smell gets stronger as she approach… but at the last moment, as she slinks through the doorway, a board creaks.
Feyjin is curious as hell and tries to get a good look... Albeit as carefully as possible.
The creaking continues and the voices cease. She was able to make out bits and pieces from what was being told… and they seemed like folk tales. Fables. Taking a closer look, she sese a gaggle of youngings from a variety of races. Elves, Goblins, Dwarves, Gnomes, Halflings, Tieflings, Humans, Fae, Tabaxi, Lizardfolk and Kobolds and more, at least two score of them, all between infancy and mid-pubescence. The smoky smell is strengthening a bit faster now, as if it were now pursuing her instead.
"Jeb? Boros?" Feyjin follows her nose, readying Hold Person just in case. "Sheila?"
The creaking stops for a moment. "Oh gods, what is it now? Wait a sec... you don't sound like one of my teachers. Who the hell are you? Why do you know my name? Do you know them?" The smoke starts to dissipate slightly as a rather grimy, scruffy, and somewhat lithe tiefling, about twice as tall the the halfling.
''A friend. Although... I wasn't expecting you to be this... young. Do you have any idea who Jeb is? Just trying to figure out when I am."
"Eh? Hell's that supposed to mean, you look barely outta your diapers yaself. And I just asked if you knew the other people in that sentence... wait a sec... you look... familiar. I think. And... about two hours late for lunchtime, 820PR."
Feyjin laughs. "Oh, you're a hoot when you're not clinging for Jeb's approval. I assure you, I'm much older than I look, thank you very much. And yes, I know them. I was following the smoke hoping to find out if your mentor was at the end of it."
"Yeah yeah... okay... " His tail rasps three times on the wall, and the creaking in the background stops for a moment, before beginning again, in the other direction. He ashes his cigar, a handrolled blend of tobacco and Wizard Weed, before re-lighting it with his finger. "Nah, nah... close enough though. He's been deep in his studies for a while... whenever he gets into that mood, I'll usually spend my days out here. Follow me."
Feyjin follows. "Something about... Vessel?"
"Huh? Who? Oh, nah, not that... just something he's got his mind stuck on. Happens at least four times a year." You enter the room with all the youngsters, and Boros sits in the front, motioning Feyjin to sit.
Feyjin takes a seat, remaining curious on what holds so much sway on Jeb's mind... And how lax Boros is compared to when she last saw him clinging to Jeb when they first met.
Boros silences the rest of the rather rambunctious group with a well timed, well boomed Thaumaturgy. "Come on guys, settle down, listen up. Uncle Boros' got another story for y'all." He switches away from Common back to his favored Infernal. He begins to weave a tall tale, some oft-repeated fable that changed with every person who told it anew, all the children having already heard this one, but each listening as intently as if they were drinking from a tap of pure divine knowledge, enraptured by his storytelling. Feyjin quietly listens, minding her own.
Boros continues weaving his tale for a while, some of the children nodding off, others slumped forward in dire anticipation of his next syllable. By the time he's finished, his cigar is done, and the children were all tuckered out. "Alright guys, no more stories tonight, I'm sorry." Two teenagers, a human and a lizardfolk, start to lead the children through a back door of the house. "Goodnight guys! Uncle Boros loves you!" He chuckled before turning back to Feyjin. "They're being brought to the Chateau. Orphans. All of them. Never knew their parents, or repressed those memories long ago. Thought... why not stop another little shit like myself from being made."
Feyjin smiles softly. "You're not shit. The fact that you do this for them proves that. Kids are precious."
"Yeah, yeah... I didn't say I was shit. I said I'm a little shit. There's a big difference. Walk and talk... I've got some business to attend to." He starts walking off back into the streets, skulking his way towards the center of town, stopping in front of a tavern. Under his coat, one rather large for his slender frame, is that same hammer she saw him smack the platform with in Jeb's memories. "Stay back, be ready to get the fuck out of here. You're on lookout." He sighs before waltzing in, not a lick of fear present in him.
"Boros, it this is a crime we're about to commit I'm going to be seriously peeved. But I need you alive - so don't fuck up." Feyjin readies her shovel in silence, ready to smack a bitch - or Boros, whichever one comes first within melee.
Before he waltzes in: "... do you know where we are? Crime is essential to survive, you think anyone can afford to pay a living wage when they're all being taxed out the ass by the Families?" His tone is extremely hushed. "Besides, this is one of their taverns. Yeah, I'm a criminal... but so are they. If they're not in the game, I leave them alone. They don't."
Feyjin nods, understanding the situation now. "Got it, just make sure you're not gonna get caught - I only have so much to bring people back from the dead. And I'd prefer not to."
Boros' steps clatter on the hardwood of the bar, silently walking through the tavern. He reaches a door and is stopped by one of the footsoldiers of Barone's Busters. As he approaches, he mutters the verbal component of Thaumaturgy and causes a bird call of the native Pterran Ptigeon, a signal recognizable by all Family members as a sign of inter-family business, and the grunt lets him through. Before long, she can hear a heavy THWACK, smell combustion starting from somewhere close-by, and see Boros running for his life, carrying a few sacks in each hand. The grunt from before is chasing him, a rather tall Firbolg, whose eyes are locked on the lithe Tiefling.
"Gods Damnit..." Feyjin casts Sanctuary on Boros as she runs as fast as her little legs will take her. She also attempts to go for the Firbolg's shins via shovel - Hoping to trip him.
The Firbolg loses track of Boros almost immediately after he started chasing him; before he even gets a chance to look around, a shovel cracks him right in the shins, causing him to flip 360 degrees and fall flat on his ass, the source of the blow already gone by the time he opens his eyes.
Feyjin runs like hell, trying to keep up with Boros. "Hurry while he's down! I'll try to keep up!"
As the pair run, the building behind them begin to fade… and Boros starts looking a little different. You’re running through a timeline of Boros’ memories, from his short time with his biological parents, him growing up in Crook’s Creek, meeting Jeb, joining the Clan of Auton, studying, all sort of things before he left. Boros’ appearance shifts with the memory that passes by, quickly growing older with each step.
The Council Room
Feyjin is astounded at the swift change, almost mesmerized at the age that accumulates on Boros. It's as if his entire life flashed before her eyes. It was a shame he would pass on so young... She just hoped she wouldn't be forced to witness it - or if she did, she could change something to ease the gruesomeness. "So then... what's the plan?"
“Plan? What plan?” As if he knew by just how far he ran, he hocked the bags in a parabolic arc. Outside the memory tunnel, they fall inside a hole in the roof of where Boros was staying with the kids, and the two teens who escorted them to the Chateau bring the bags the same way. The further memories start to show Boros’ while Jeb was away, but there’s only a few of those. One sticks out though, one with Boros on his hands and knees, nearly writhing in pain."
How... How were you hurt? I mean - I saw..." Feyjin's head starts to ache, knowing Boros has probably no idea what she was talking about and she sounds crazy. "You were on all fours."
"I keep being pulled too quickly - I need to hurry." She thinks to herself, 'Where the hell am I going to figure out how to help Vessel... it wouldn't send me here for nothing. I need to catch my breath and organize what's going on... I'm missing something. Something important. I visited Jeb's memories, I'm going through Boros'... what do these have to do with Vessel's condition?'
“Huh…. That…” he’s holding back tears when he looks at the memory. “That’s… when Jeb died. I was receiving the title of Wizened Elder of the Clan… and almost a damn ulcer from the pain.” At this point, the tunnel begins getting more and more sparse of memories, and Boros is at the age he was when he died.
"My sincerest apologies for your loss... He was a good man with a good heart." Feyjin recognizes the age... and what will soon come to pass. She feels her stomach turn leaden. "Losing a loved one is difficult. I hope he was surrounded by friends and family as he passed." Feyjin is trying to keep her composure, but is struggling.
He was eaten by a Behir. And to be honest, I loved Jeb like a father… but that’s not why I’m tearing up. It’s because of what’s next.” Next you see Boros’ adventures with the Greedy Green, his angry fighting, his attempts to borrow from Jeb’s power through his Form of Dread and other warlocky powers, the Relith Tower. He stops there. “I feel something. Like, something here… ties to what you’re looking for. Maybe. Take a look.” Inside you see the events where Boros watching both Alenka and Tordek die in quick succession, himself nearly dying from grabbing Alenka’s Soul Star, and watching as the Star released thousands of spirits upon the realm, including the dragon soul of Vezoth the White. Tears are rolling down at this point.
Feyjin walks forward. "I appreciate you taking the time to help me... perhaps, if this goes well - we can talk when I arrive back home. I enjoyed you and your mentor's company through this."
"...Thank you. I appreciate your kindness. And smacking the shit out of that guy chasing me. Now as I was saying..." Boros continues explaining all of the horrible things that occured during his visit to the Relith tower, including mentioning some kind of disease or infection or something he wasn't entirely sure of; all you were able to make out the phrase MSN; his words begin to fade as you notice your own form begin to flicker. The memory you find yourself in disappears as you appear in a wide room, made entirely of the same crystal you saw Vessel tear out. There are seats that line the room, all raised slightly from the circle in the center Feyjin finds herself in.
"Well, this doesn't sit well." She takes a good look around. "Hello?"
There are a total of 13 seats, all empty. As she turns, the seats begin to fill. The one in the center, a seat designed to be less ornate than the rest of them, remains empty. The seats to the left and right of center, however, catch your eye. "Oh. Welcome back. Or welcome here, I guess. Good to see you again." Jeb's voice echoes through the domed room.
"Good to see you as well, Jeb. Mind telling me what's going on?"
"SILENCE! HOW DARE THIS INTERLOPER BE ALLOWED TO SPEAK!" From directly behind Feyjin, a somewhat squeaky voice rattles. "Silence yourself, Saphrax. It seems as if she's vouched for by someone here." The man in the seat next to him taps his shoulder as he turns to speak.
Feyjin stands before the circle, interested in these new faces. She holds her tongue, paying attention to the speakers within the room and noting names.
The seat to the right of the empty speaks up. "Yeah, trust us, she's fine. She's here to help our friend. I don't even think she knew about any of us besides me and Jeb." It's Boros, sitting the wrong way in his chair.
"Introduce yourselves, will you guys? Let's open this emergency meeting of the Council of Elders of the Clan of Auton." The group all silence themselves before they speak Infernal in unison. "Drink of the font of knowledge; free yourself."
"Roll call!" Boros announces.
"Saphrax." The gnome who shushed Feyjin states.
"Altheaeus." The half-elf who tried calming Saphrax.
"Pietro Casper." An albino human.
"Donahue Whalen." A dwarf.
"Don Treister." A goliath.
"Brendan Haine." A half-orc.
"Ronan Fitzcarraldo." A human.
"Fitzgerald McManus." An elf.
"Jonas Matassa." A bugbear.
"Thaddeus Fangdrake." A human.
"Jebediah B. Samson." Jeb, a tiefling.
"Boros H. Gathers." Boros, another tiefling. "And obviously, our council is incomplete at this point, which is why we're having this emergency meeting."
Feyjin has no idea whether or not to state her name, and thus stays quiet. She makes a mental note of each name to research later and perhaps discuss them with Vessel at a later time. The more she learns of the Clan of Auton, the more interested she becomes about it. Perhaps this would be a way of recovering lost knowledge should Vessel's tolerance be adequate enough.
"So go on. You have our attention, now why are you here?" Saphrax squeaks again, his temper getting the best of him. "Behave, my friend." Altheaeus says in a rather soothing voice. "He does have a point, however, although he's jumping the gun a bit. First, who, then how, then why."
"I can explain the first one, at least a little bit from what she's told me. Her name is Feyjin, and she's an ally of our missing member, trying to help in whatever way she can." Jeb pipes up.
"Jeb would be correct. I am Feyjin. I'm here to find a remedy for my friend in the future, Vessel. I've been pulled several times through time and space - jumping from memory to memory. I have no real control over where or when I appear, but it's all had a theme around the Clan of Auton. Boros and Jeb can vouch on this fact. Sheila also can vouch for me."
"I have and will continue to remain jumping until I find the solution to Vessel's condition. With that, I have promised your clan I would do no harm and speak of nothing I have seen. I will continue to uphold said promise that unless provoked to do otherwise."
The group begins to speak exclusively to each other for a moment, as if pondering her claims. All she hear is "rabblerabblerabblerabblerabblerabblerabblerabble", however, as each of the group is conversing in a different tongue. Jonas breaks their discussion: "Hello, it is I, Jonas Matassa, and I believe that this Feyjin to be very Hank. Double Hank, even. For you see, ladies and gentlemen. And ladies. There are two things that are more Hank than I, Jonas Matassa. Those are, risking your life for a friend, and keeping your promises. And this nice lady is doing both, very Hank indeed!"
”Hold your breath, Jonas. You’re not trying to convince her, you’re arguing to the council. And your suavery only gets you so far here anyway.” Fitzgerald interjects before Jonas continued. “I agree, Fitz, but I also believe Jonas makes a cogent, if Hankful, point.” Donahue quips.
“And for our Founders’ sake, you haven’t been traveling through time, don’t say you’ve been coming from the future; we’re dead, not in the past! We’d be raided out the ass by those freaky ass Time Cops!” Thaddeus remarks, referring to the Followers of Chronepsis.
"Yes and no. I'm traveling though Vessel's soul - er... His memory. A loophole if you will. Something is causing Vessel to uh... Glitch? He's in pain. Crystals were ripped out of him."
“Hold on a second, what? Oh dear gods, what’s gotten into them?” Ronan cries. “
Have they gone completely mental? They risk destroying our kick-ass clubhouse!” Don exclaims.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Feyjin comments.
“Well, we’d all love to help in this endeavor to repair our council member, but we’re all dead. Our influence is strictly limited to powering the Elder Protocol and guiding future leaders of the Clan, and even if we weren’t, none of us have met with them physically! Well… that’s not entirely the case.” Pietro groans as he glances at the two mononymed men. “What, what did I do?” Altheaeus inquires. “He means us two… I mean, we did meet them a long while ago… back when we were being taught by the Founder.” Saphrax begins to reminisce.
"Is there any way I could use your minds as a bridge to talk with him? I was able to jump from Jeb to Boros to here... Perhaps this is a possibility? It might have to be a close connection to the targeted individual... How close were you two to the Founder?"
Saphrax and Altheaeus shudder before whispering to another. S:"do we trust her?" A:"she's already vouched for!" S:"But we haven't succeeded in contacting him in our history! We have no idea where he went!" A: "If we're loud enough, then I think that he will listen to what we have to say..." S: "You're not wrong... you and I certainly know he'd be furious if we couldn't carry out our mission." The two turn back to Feyjin. "Altheaeus and I were some of the first scholars to learn at the hand of our Founder, before we even created the Clan of Auton. We were but a pair of stragglers, displaced from our hometown. We wound up in Crook's Creek, hungry and cold on the streets, never knowing where we could sleep safely next. But we found this building, that had this... glow in it. We knocked on the door, and the Founder welcomed us with open arms. We didn't even care that his hugs poked us. We were glad to find somewhere to stay, and someone who wanted us around. He... introduced himself as AL. Offered us all the food in the place, as it was useless to the current occupants. We inquired slightly... and then we met them. The one you're looking to help, Vessel. Soon enough, we had become our own organization, as opposed to a gaggle of outcasts studying together. Not just an organization. A family." Saphrax wipes a tear from his eye.
"How very sweet." Feyjin quips.
"So to answer your other questions... we can all try. We've tried in the past, even when we saw that Vessel was about to be re-awoken..." Altheaeus shoots a look at Boros, who shrugs and quips, 'Still worth it, I'm sitting in this kick-ass clubhouse.' "But it never worked. Considering the severity of the situation however... he might be keen to hear us out."
The Elders begin a slow, drawn out hum, reverberating throughout the hall, as they walk down from their chairs and begin to circle around Feyjin. The hum turns to a chant, and the Elders surround Feyjin, 6 around her, and 6 around those. Each places a hand on her shoulder, or on the shoulder of the one in front of them. "Are you ready, our friend?" Altheaeus inquires.
"Ready as I'm going to be. If everything works out, this will be the last time you see me for a good while."
The group begins to channel its energies into Feyjin, each imbuing both a small fraction of their respective domain and focus as a former Elder of the Clan, and their sincerest desires for reaching out to the Founder. "Feyjin, our friend, it is now up to you to be our antenna into the realm of the living. You currently exist here as a sort of link between the two... almost like the current Elder acts. In fact... technically that's how this is working. You're our pseudo-Elder." Saphrax comments.
Unfortunately, this comment caused Feyjin to involuntarily retch at the name she was called.
The group pulls away as she dry-heaves. "Well... that's upsetting. No matter... we can try again. Maybe we shouldn't talk as much." Altheaeus sighs.
"My apologies, I'm a little sensitive to the word 'elder'. Let's try again."
"Don't blame us, blame the guy we're trying to contact; half of us died young." Jeb quipped as they re-circle her and begin the 'ritual' again. "Understandable." She comments.
The group each feel a tugging force pull at them, each relinquishing a small part of their power for this purpose. Apparently, she just needed to get all the trauma vomit out. A voice begins to emanate from deep within Feyjin. "Huh? What the hell's going on? I was working on this wonderful project, and I don't tend to take kindly to people dragging me away from my work." "I would think that Vessel having an extreme malfunction would be important enough to pull you away for a moment, Sir." The voice goes silent for an awkward amount of time, before it begins to speak in a decreasingly soft voice. "hold... on... don't tell me... oh gods..." The voice begins to waver, as if the signal was starting to become unstable. "Feyjin, this is already a shot in the dark to work, we don't need you freaking him out and him breaking the connection prematurely! Show some tact!" Saphrax erupts in his comically squeaky voice. "... tell me everything you know about this." The voice is strained, almost as if it were holding back tears.
"Shut it. I'm simply stating the urgency." Feyjin focuses on the voice. "He ripped three crystals from his chest. He started speaking in three voices, clutched on the ground. Ooze was dripping from the cavity. He looked in extreme pain... Crying out for 'Father'.
"Then get the hell out of wherever you are AND PUT THEM BACK! Those crystals are a physical soul for them! Fucking Saphrax... I knew this fucking Elder Protocol would screw something up. Taking them out must have fractured something with their memories and their weave matrix... they're looking for me... thank you, so much... for taking care of my pride and joy. But please, hurry... I don't know how much longer they can handle it. My name is AL, also known as the Founder... and if there's anything I or the Clan of Auton can do for you, do not hesitate to ask."
"In my time, the Clan of Auton rests with Vessel alone as far as I'm aware here in Isonhound. Perhaps I will join him in trying to revive it. It has been a pleasure speaking with you. Goodbye." Feyjin takes this moment to quickly say goodbye to the rest of the Clan, and severs her ties to Vessel's Soul-Scape. Thankfully, the Clan is still alive and well in Crook's Creek.
The Clan waves goodbye to her as Feyjin returns to the deck of the airship, the voices emanating from Vessel having ceased. They seem... unresponsive.
Back to the HMS Deuces Wild
Feyjin sees Vessel's body quiet. "Shit. I took too long!!!" She gathers up the crystals, piecing them together to fit back inside him. "For fuck's sake, you better not have died. I only have one existence crystal and I'd rather not make you a dragon-loving lunatic like those MSDOS buckets of bolts."
She quickly works to shove the three crystals back inside of the cavity they once inhabited.
You feel a faint pulse of arcane energies flow around you as you hear a deep inhale. "... Where the fuck am I?"
Feyjin lets out a held breath in relief. "Aboard the PotP's Ship, the Deuces Wild. You tore the crystals out from yourself - I think you almost died. AL says hello, by the way."
"... Fucking death cults... can't believe I tried that. Shame, that could have been a cool gift for Pot'tu..." they pause for a moment. "Did you just say... AL? Was I... looking for them?"
Feyjin fixes herself, checking over Vessel to make sure they're of sound of mind and body. "You started spouting in Infernal calling for your father. It came to the point where I had to spend the last who knows how long fumbling through your soul(s?) to figure out how to fix you. Spoke with him while I was in there - Met Jeb and Boros as well, they're a lovely lot."
“Oh… the screaming Tieflings. Yeah… that means you met the rest of them. And to be honest… I don’t even know where my damn soul is. But… yes, that seems… correct. I must have… regressed or something akin to that.” They shudder for a moment. “Well… I pray that is good news. I pray that is… not the last time… you may speak with him. Thank you… for risking yourself for my sake. Do you mind if I tell you a short story? I’m sure it may… elucidate some things.”
"I still need to recover, so yes - please."
“You are… familiar… with Tolme, correct? Pendergras Industries?”
Feyjin makes a comment about Tolme that I'd rather leave unsaid.
“… I can imagine. Maybe it runs in the family. But this… must have been dislodged… either through my own incompetence or by your excursion. My memories… before I went to sleep. They seem to have… re-awoken. So that reminds me… of a story the Founder told me… before we built the Clan together.”
Feyjin pulls up a stool, taking a seat and listening.
"There once was a man... by the name of Colin. Colin... Pendergras. This man ran a factory, which we are all familiar with. But back... about... 690, 691... a hundred and thirty six years ago. Another man, a native of Sneerwell and worker for the city... found his way into the factory. He was in the wrong place... but at the right time. The factory had blown to bits in an act of terror against the new ruler, the former right-hand of Colin's brother. That man died in the factory, but a new man emerged out of the arcane rubble. This new man began his own research, his own experiments... and his research, and himself, greatly caught the eye of Colin. It led to the creation of not just one, but 7 new... creations... much like him... except without the bodies. This spurned on further research. He scoured pretty much the entire left half of the realm... going to Breme to research and collaborate with a famed artificer. Returning to Sneerwell, he learned more about some of the properties of the materials embedded within him, but Colin refused to share the secrets of his new creations. Said it was some trade secret, but from what I can tell, it was pivoted into those little Autom things you see scurrying around. 'Not in the business of slavery' was what Colin said... as if he would have ever wanted to enslave his kind. But he had... learned enough. He went to Crook's Creek in order to... experiment. And this... experiment... was a rousing success."
"He had... lost... everything. But whenever he looked at me... he told me how he saw every beautiful factor of the realm culminated in me. The raw power of the arcane. The beauty of the weave... the potential in the crystal and stone. He said... every time he looked into my eyes, he could see... their faces. And he was certainly... sad, about that... but he saw everything else this world has to offer... and realized that the pain was worth it."
"About... 695... two years after I was brought into this world... I had learned so much... about life, about... why the world is the way it is... and what is truly important, above everything else. So we decided... that our purpose would be to spread knowledge, and our ideals. Of freedom, of continual learning, of independence. Of working together to make a world we all want to live in. We founded the Clan of Auton together... after the name of the man who brought me to life, and brought me to light. The Autom Lord."
Feyjin quietly contemplates this, remembering parts of her journey. "How did it come to pass that you were sealed away?"
Vessel falls silent for a moment. "I do not wish to... discuss too much of that at this time. But... we agreed... that it was for the good of the Clan. He... feared for our lives. We were an oddity... and artificers across the realm... would do anything to find us. To experiment on us."
"I understand, being a whim to others is a terrifying experience. I would not wish it to anyone. However, If you ever find the want or need to discuss it... I'm always here to listen - part of being a healer is to help with the physical and the mental afflictions."
"I know... and I truly appreciate that. But... I'd honestly rather not. I've mentioned what I feel comfortable with... in all honesty I remember every second locked in that room... but I don't regret it. Because of it... I have found new friends to work with. New people to learn and teach with. I'd still be trapped in Pteris... and there'd be so many things that I'd never learn about."
Feyjin smiles. "Then let us focus on the future."
