Shireroth

Atos was already setting as the council convened once more. The hall was full of tired, haggard delegates and leaders; many had had very little if any sleep for the last 24 hours. Impatience, suspense and weariness weighed heavy in the air, and the Kaiser had quite respectable bags under his eyes.

In the corner of the hall, the Prophet still sat in meditation. It was hard to even notice he was there, and nobody was sure if he'd left the room at any point.

"Welcome again, everyone, " the Kaiser began. "Much has happened since yesterday's council. I'll start by going over the reports quickly.

Based on what has been told me, I can tell that all parts of our operations are proceeding more or less smoothly. Although the Arx-Piscator has not yet been pointed out to me, a representative of the Piscatores has promised the full support of the force. A detachment off the Panopticon Corps has been placed under the Blue Sun section at the MoMA. They have not reported any anomalies yet, however, Gralus is not a small place, and they have a great deal of area to sweep left. Yardistan and Kildare have come forth with what has been asked of them, too, and in Straylight, the evacuation of Blavatsky is well underway.

It also turns out that we have a great deal of aerial capacity to throw into the fray if we need. The IRS Ayreon, the Nelagan Hope, and the Erasmus plus four older model skyships have been offered up. The choice of what to do with them is complicated by problems of our internal stability... and by a revelation that you should all have been briefed about separately the Nelagan stargate.

The gate is connected to Quetzecoatopolis is astral Sypyr, Gralus. We were very recently succesful at sending in an unmanned probe through. Detailed information will be at the end of the report, but for the sake of brevity: We did not see much, but we did see that it is true that Gralus has been overrun. There were humans enslaved to some sort of a magical foe - not reflections, though, but living, walking shadows. It appears Gralan history knows these creatures too, and in fact they are an ally of the Reflections, under a leader known as Atropos. It seems likely we can also expect to see the third ally then, the Echoes.

The Shadows, based on what we know, can be fought with the simple modulation of light and darkness. They prosper in the twilight and where shadows are cast, but bright light shone upon them will damage them, and complete darkness will destroy them altogether. The solution to defending our base of operations and any vehicles we might send out against an attack by them, then, seems to consist of making sure we can produce complete darkness in any section as necessary. In other words, we need light switches, we need to break every indicator light and such thing that might sustain the shadows, and... I'm sure you get the drift and that the Duke of Straylight can take care of the practical arrangements.

The Echoes, which you'll be briefed on, are a more difficult matter. I welcome suggestions on how to deal with them other than having a lot of psychiatrists and counsellors on board.

Not only was the Nelagan stargate able to send a probe through, but it will be possible to open it properly, once, and send airships through. According to the reports of its size and structure, it won't be able to accommodate something as big and heavy as Blavatsky. We do know almost for certain, however, that the Nelagan hope will not be joining us but will be sent through the gate as soon as the Nelagans consider themselves finished with information gathering."


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"If that didn't quite sink in yet, let me repeat it. We can get to Gralus. Or, rather, the Nelagans can get to Gralus. Perhaps we might be able to send one of the Monty Criscoan dirigibles through with the Nelagan hope." The Kaiser's head sank. "But that is it. Maybe it is somehow appropriate that the Nelagans head on to meet danger head-on, while we Shirithians stay on our home turf guarding against an enemy that we might never even come to meet. There is every indication that the enemy is of incredible power, and large as the Nelagan gate is, it won't be possible to send a base through it that will have the resources to truly help the people of Gralus in their plight.

It should have been implicit in the foundation of this council, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ask this out loud to me sure nobody missed their chance. If anyone here knows a way for our base and strike force to enter Gralus, I command you to come out with it."

A voice was immediately heard: "Your Niftiness, I'm afraid --"

"Erol? Is that you?" The Duke of Brookshire interrupted him, speaking up with astonishment.

The man speaking looked thoroughly bland. The Kaiser was struck with the feeling he'd seen this person around the palace and in fact everywhere he went many times over the years, but couldn't quite remember what he was all about. A lower bureaucrat? No, what would one be doing in this council? An advisor to some Duke? All of the Duchal courts should have been familiar to him...

"It is me, sir."

"Well... Your Niftiness, here is the one you asked for. The Arx-Piscator. Not that I had anything to do with getting him here. I do have Piscatores in my court at the highest level, I guess that's how he got in this council without me knowing. But I am happy that you are here, Erol. Everyone, meet Erol Yastreb Ly'Piscator."

The heir of Yastreb did not wait for applause or even for anyone to adjust to the revelation. "Your niftiness, I'm afraid that fortune was thinking of more than just ground troops when she directed Andreas to mention the two of us - the Angel-Guardian and me - in his message to you."

"Please, go on."

"Kaiser Alexander III commanded the Piscatores to steward over a collection of old Technomagi writings thousands of years ago. We were to never reveal the content of these archives to anyone. I might be damning us all by bringing out what I am going to bring out, unless, Your Niftiness, you could be convinced to rescind your order..."

"If the Technomagi had had someone to tell them the secrets of the universe they wouldn't have had to figure it out for themselves. I do not believe the mere knowledge that you have can be dangerous for us to have."

"I was afraid you would say that. Hear, then, what we call the revelations of Ansar of So-Sara, technomage priest and naturalist who exhaustively studied the nature of the real.

The first revelation is that it is that Balgurd's pull is felt not only by the souls of us all, but in fact everything that exists. Every object, every particle and field and all the things our physicists consider the most fundamental, would fall all the way to the depths of the abyss if it were not for the sustaining power of the Web of Life. A wicked city, full of uncaring, godless people could be more than just hellish to live in: A place evil enough could in fact slip through to Balgurd, taking with it not just every man and woman within, but every building and a large chunk of the surrounding countryside. We don't know of anywhere that this has happened, but there have been signs..."

Someone reacted: "So, uh, how is the rest of the universe around Micras still around?"

"There are two reasons that we know of. One is that the Fish of Balgurd are not interested in places where there are no living things to corrupt or torture, and so the pull of Balgurd is weak outside of our planet. The other one is that the Web of Life connects more than just the creatures on this planet, but in fact permeates the universe, connecting the fate of beings whose nature we can only dream of, and thereby having enough influence on all matter to keep it bound to our plane.

The second revelation is that with proper meditation, it is possible to perceive the Web of Life with one's own eyes... or, astral sight, rather - one's ability to see crude physical existence has little to do with the ability to peer into the heart of truth. Furthermore, if you can perceive the Web of Life, you can manipulate it. However, you need the right forces to work on it. Forces of friendship and nurture will strengthen the connections between souls, whereas enmity and aggression will weaken them. Few forces are able to consistently cut connections in the Web. But we do know of one that will work: Vengeance. The cycle of revenge can turn the closest affinity between friends into a vendetta.

The third revelation is that the Web of Life heals any crude manipulations wrought upon it, if not without scars. Cutting a connection grown out of a friendship might make two people suddenly feel uneasy around each other, but if it wasn't an accident in the first place that they became close, they will usually come to forge their friendship anew. A soul on the Path of Enlightenment will tend towards renewing the connections it has made; a soul walking its way towards the Descendi will only get to its destination more swiftly."

---

There was a brief pause, as if the speaker was assuming this was enough information for everyone, before the Kaiser spoke up. "I don't understand how this gets us into Gralus."

"It is in fact quite simple. Our knowledge agrees with Gralan lore that there is a multitude of Hells and they are all connected. Not just that, but there is a way for a mortal intruder to travel between the Hells, should he have the right knowledge. So, all we need to do is get there somehow, navigate through to the right place when we're in there, and get out before the Daemonic hordes overwhelm us. And that is something we can do. We can go to Gralus, and we can bring with us a whole city if we need to.

The three people we need for these tasks are here today, by invitation from Andreas the Wise who was almost certainly not aware that they would be just the ones needed to implement this plan. Blasphemous as it is, I can't help but feel the Gods themselves had a hand in the crafting of his message.

We need me, to carry the ship through the infinite realms of Hell to its intended destination. The knowledge of travel in the Hells is not learned easily and without sacrifice, nor is it ever safe to have it for the rest of your life once you have learned it. I don't believe we have the years it will take to teach the skill to someone else for this occasion. At the same time, my Piscatores will be there, defending the ship for the few dozen seconds we will be spending outside of our rightful planes of existence.

We need the Angel-Guardian - a creature of boundless piety and love, in order to make sure we only have to spend that few dozen seconds in the Hells, instead of staying there for hours and perhaps falling victim to the Hordes. The Angel-Guardian will have the ability to reach out to Gralus and, given his piety, form connections in the Web of Life with the people therein with swiftness. His influence, in the absence of other threads in the Web, will make reality reform itself, with him and everything around him appearing in Gralus. There will be hangers-on when we enter Gralus, but the Hells are infinite in size, and even the Daemons won't know where we will be travelling through, so in all likelihood they will be just Daemon Fish that my men will be able to deal with.

Finally, we need the rightful wielder of the Sword of Vengeance, to commit the act of blasphemy that will get us in Balgurd without having our souls corrupted by the Daemon Fish in the first place. The secrets of Ansar's meditation are known to me, and I can teach them to you. Seeing the Web of Life, you will be able to disrupt it. Cut enough connections around the ship, and it will fall into Balgurd in its entirety. You will consign us all to the Hells by doing that, but maybe not for eternity."

There were a few moments of silence again, and the Kaiser spoke: "And just how safe is this whole plan of yours, and how likely do you think it will succeed?"

"It is not much safer than going against the Daemonic hordes all by yourself, and all we know about whether it will succeed is the word of long dead sages."

"But there is a chance it will work?"

"Your Niftiness, I only spoke out because you commanded, and your word is the law. I do not --"

"Is there a chance it could work?"

"Yes, it is consistent with everything we know of our universe. It could work."

"I need a moment to think."

---

The hall was quiet for several minutes. Then, the Kaiser rose up, and lifted his sight to the Prophet, who was still meditating in the corner - not even a muscle on his face had twitched throughout all of this. For one long, sighing moment he looked at the prophet in his unfocused, yet somehow still piercingly sharp eyes. Then he spoke.

"The code of good that I live by tells me to be good to my fellow people. I might be a subject of Shireroth among others, but I am also a citizen of the world. A world where a Gralan as a mortal is worth more than a thousand empty prayers and acts of piety that amount to little benefit.

I am the Kaiser. I rule by the laws of the land, given by my predecessors for all of Shireroth to live together by. I am of the name of Gaelen and the blood of Raynor. The spirit that united Shireroth still flows in my veins.

I am Ly'Technomaezj. A thousand ancestors speak one word to me, scream it, repeating in unison: Defy, defy, defy! To help your fellow mortal, defy! To destroy the enemy, defy! To be worthy of your name, defy! To cast aside the veil of reality, defy!

I must dissent. My decision has been made; if I live to see sundown tonight, I will go ahead with this profane plan. I will bring a city with me and travel through the hells to help my fellow mortals. Anyone that I need for implementing the plan who does not want to help me, I will command to."

The Kaiser drawed his sword, raised it high and... slowly brought it down again, grabbed it by the blade, walked up to the Prophet, kneeled in front of him and offered up the hilt.

"Therefore, I submit my life to the Gods. I already know where my soul will go, so I only do this for the other ones of us, the living. If the future you see this design bring forth is one of suffering, kill me now, and it will be avoided. If not, I will do my duty as Kaiser and help this world.

The choice is yours."

Allot wrote:((OOC: NOT happening. Is that even legal?!))

~Last night~

“The Prophet showed up!” Greg said, exasperated and exhausted. He sat down on an expensive, black leather couch with Yardistan's coat-of-arms stitched into it. They were in the study of the mansion, which had wooden book shelves all across the walls. A single window broke the bookcases, and a faint light from the city outside shined in, blurred by the rainstorm outside.

Leaning forward, he sighed and ran his fingers through his long, black hair. “It's NEVER good when he shows up.” he said, throwing his arms up in a gesture of annoyance. Aggy had decided to close his eyes, cross his arms and lean against the opposite wall, his wings folded around him like a cloak. “Pay the madman no mind. He always shows up when there's trouble.” He opened his eyes. “Always speaking in rhyme and riddle, always telling us that maybe something bad might happen, always incredulous when we doubt. Then he crawls into a corner and acts like he's meditating.” Greg's eyes narrows. “Well, if he's not meditating, what's he doing?” Aggy smirked. “This time? Maybe he really was. At a previous council a century ago, he had simply fallen asleep. He told us it was a 'deep meditation', but we knew.” Greg laughed. “No way!” Aggy nodded and lifted his right hand to rub his own head. “Totally. We laughed too, but then he said we'd all go to Balgurd for laughing at the gods. Very funny.”

Greg chuckled again and reached over to the coffee table, and took a sip of his over-priced brand coffee. His expression grew serious again though. “But seriously, what does his presence mean?” Aggy furrowed his brows and grimaced, turning his head to look towards the window. A car drove by, flashing a bright light for a second. “It means this is serious. Other than that? Nothing. He IS mad. Never sure if what he's seeing is divine or mundane, fate and prophecy or tiding of what MIGHT happen. He hasn't given a straight answer since Raynor was kaiser.

Greg took another sip and set the coffee cup back down on its coaster. “Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better. You may not have respect for him, but I do take what he says seriously.” Aggy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I do respect him, you just have to take what he says with a grain of salt. And at any rate, he's not the one I'm worried about.” Greg's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What do you mean? Certainly you're not talking about Erik?” Aggy shook his head again. “No, not Erik. Mundane rebellions can wait when whole civilizations disappear, and he's mature enough to know that.” Aggy unfolded his hands and walked over to the window, placing his hand on the wall just to the right of the window. He stared out into the rain, his face suddenly looking much more moody.

“It's Gaelen I'm worried about.”

Greg's eyes went wide, his body leaning back slightly in shock. “What do you mean by that? Gaelen's a good man. His family has served the Imperial Republic with honor for generations.” Aggy shook his head. “That's not what I mean. I know he's a good man, but I'm worried that he's sending us all to our doom. I have an unseen sense for these things. Think of it as a 'spidey-sense', and it's tingling right now. I just know something bad is going to happen.

Greg stood up, even more worried now. “What do you mean?” Aggy turned away from the window to look at Greg. “His exact quote was, 'I will require sacrifice from you.' When he said that, I had a vision.”

Greg shook his head. “What did you see?”

Aggy shook his head, and turned his head to look back at the outside world. “I saw myself, fighting myself. We looked the same, but the other me looked wrong. I watched the whole thing from above, like I was floating in the air. After a pitched battle, one of us died.” Aggy looked back at his young ward. “It was a warning. I'm going to die at Gralus.”

Greg's eyes went wide again. “No.. no.. that's not true... you're wrong!” He stumbled back down onto the couch, his eyes starting to water. “You don't know that for sure, it might be the other you that dies!” Aggy grimaced and looked down. “It's possible...” Greg shook his head, holding it with both hands touching his forehead. “No way it's you, the gods won't let it happen.” Aggy shook his head again and looked up. “The gods don't have much of a say in it, this time. Even they are not all-powerful.” He removed his hand from the wall and stood up straight. He walked over to Greg, and knelt in front of him. “But no matter what happens, you are strong enough to walk alone. I have taught you well, and you have learned well. You will overcome the curse of your ancestors, and keep Yardistan safe. You'll even manage to keep that crazy sister of yours in line.” Greg managed a small smirk, but continued to look down. “Is that another vision?” Aggy shook his head, and with his left hand raised Greg's head, so that he was looking Aggy in the eye.

“No... it's faith.”

"I must protest," Willow said, rising from her seat. All eyes were drawn to the Kildarian delegation. The chair next to Willow sat empty - Cla'Udi had failed to reappear at the council today. But Willow seemed to have been undeterred by his absence.

"I must protest, your niftiness," she repeated. "To allow this ... experiment to go ahead with knowledge of its presently provided conclusions would not only be an act of unforgiveable sacrilege, but an act of such insurmountable human arrogance that its equal has never been met in all of history, and would lose you forever the respect of a good portion of the population. As presented, this ... 'narrativity' experiment claims that only 'reality' as defined by humans without any 'magic' (as it is commonly, though not necessarily technically, defined) is 'real', and would relegate my kind, as well as a thousand other species and the gods themselves to the status of second rate lifeforms! To say that we, the gods, and anything else that doesn't fit a certain limited human conception of 'reality' is less real, and to consider the construction of something that would forcibly purge only those things deemed 'unreal' ..."
She paused for breath, and the Khan took this moment to interject.
"It hardly only purges those deemed 'unreal'," he began, "It also kills pretty well everything else in the blast radius too ..."
"And you consider the destruction of every living thing an acceptable price for your own survival?" Willow interrupted, shooting the Khan a glance that would have had her booked for mass murder, if looks could kill. She turned back to the Kaiser. "Whether or not it kills everything else too, to consider developing a weapon designed to remove this conception of the 'unreal' from existence, with no possibility of survival - think what that says to all citizens of your fair realm who might not be considered strictly 'real'. I am no Melangian, but even I can remember the one other time humans had the sheer arrogance to consider such a thing. The micrograss plague, which nearly caused the extinction of Microns and Elves, and yet did not harm humans, is not something history forgets lightly. Imagine what would have happened if no Microns had survived, there had been no Control of Destiny team, and our world had fallen to the Imperials or to the Nightcrash long ago ..."

She paused again for breath, but this time nobody interrupted, and she continued. "Besides, my Kaiser, I believe you will find any completed bomb far less effective than envisaged. For a start, I would think there is considerable doubt about whether magic is as 'unreal' as is claimed."
This revelation brought cries of surprise and outrage, not least from the Khan, who protested, "Well if you're so sure it won't work, why are you protesting it?"
"To even consider it, as I said, on its presently provided conclusions, sends an unnaceptable message to so many of our citizens, not to mention our allies in Gralus, who are even now risking their lives to keep us safe," Willow replied imperiously. "I would question those conclusions, however, on the grounds of modern magical scholarship, which has studied the fundamental nature of magic across the worlds in far more depth than the ISI or MoMA have ever dared, and they suggested that not only is magic a fundamental part of matter, like gravity; but that many things we normally consider real should, properly speaking, be counted as different types of magic. I will not bore you with the details; but I would trust the opinion of those who have studied and known magic intimately, far more than I would trust narrow minded human scientists who have never even set foot in an Academy."