11-29-2017, 05:17 AM
[OoC ahh I was making an assumption based of the "ambassador' part.. as in he's not from here]
[IC] New Crobuzon & the World Beyond
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11-29-2017, 05:17 AM
[OoC ahh I was making an assumption based of the "ambassador' part.. as in he's not from here]
11-29-2017, 07:06 AM
(11-29-2017, 05:17 AM)Betimi Wrote: [OoC ahh I was making an assumption based of the "ambassador' part.. as in he's not from here] [OoC: What I meant was the Hell that influences this world is not "THE" Nine Hells that's connected to the multiverse. It's a totally different Hell dimension. Asmodeus does not rule this world's Hell. Its true ruler has rules and expectations that allow it to influence but not to dominate this world. Since souls are currency what's the point of slaughtering the whole planet? If they did that then they would soon run out of souls. So it's a delicate balancing act to encourage maximum output of souls to power the "economy" of this Hell Dimension while not culling so many people as to lower production. ]
11-29-2017, 08:25 AM
(11-29-2017, 07:06 AM)GM Marvel Wrote:(11-29-2017, 05:17 AM)Betimi Wrote: [OoC ahh I was making an assumption based of the "ambassador' part.. as in he's not from here] [OoC so pretty much how the Nine Hells works anyway.. they want to subjugate not destroy.. rule not rampage.. It's the 'rulers' of the Abyss that want everything to be destroyed. Law vs. Chaos Of course, that doesn't mean Betimi thinks it is a good idea to see her new home subjugated, so her stance doesn't change, though with her knowledge of the Outer Planes you could excuse her misunderstanding due to the similarity of names, just as much as there would be if this were the ambassador of Hel (as in the realm of Norse myth aka Helheim, which is not an evil plane at all. Similar names makes confusion = roleplaying fun/fodder] (11-29-2017, 08:25 AM)Betimi Wrote:(11-29-2017, 07:06 AM)GM Marvel Wrote:(11-29-2017, 05:17 AM)Betimi Wrote: [OoC ahh I was making an assumption based of the "ambassador' part.. as in he's not from here] [ OoC: Except the Nine Hells wouldn't care if they sucked a billion souls off a world because they still have a multiverse of souls to choose from. And what do you mean by, Betimi doesn't want to see her new home subjugated? Kinda jumping to conclusions aren't cha? The ambassador just appeared and suddenly Betimi is begging to be ReMade with six asses and ten heads! ]
11-30-2017, 02:34 PM
The innate spellcaster who has visited an academy... for a while... seems to be pretty much unimpressed by the summoning ceremony. He's even overheard conversations (maybe rumors or simply was it his misunderstanding) about various conjurations from hell and undeath, one is called Zen Carlos... or was it...
Anyway, he makes two mental notes. Note to self, destroy Perdido Police Station as a distraction. Or protect it to earn a favour. Second note, that candle must be some significant source of power since these contraptions can apparently easily create light so using a mundane candle would make no much sense. He glances carefully around to see whether someone is reading his thoughts...
Nacesh does not notice anyone concentrating their attention upon him or anyone else except maybe the ambassador toward the Magistrate.
Tomeal knows nothing of spells and rituals but he knew it would be foolish to attempt an attack. He was thankful that this world seems to have accomplish something he had never heard of before -- a bloodless blood sacrifice. The thought of it confused him and made him wonder if it were only possible on this world or on every world. And if were possible on other worlds then why wasn't it invented yet. Or perhaps it had been invented but the demon summoners preferred real blood. The thought of it disgusted him. While Betimi speaks with Selina the ambassador says, in a pleasant, low voice, "Magistrate, how nice to see you again. I was just doing some paperwork." You all feel a flicker of unease. The ambassador has an echo: half a second after he speaks his words are repeated in the appalling shriek of one undergoing torture. The screamed words were not loud. They were audible just beyond the walls of the room, as if they had soared up through miles of unearthly heat from some trench in Hell's floor. "What can I do for you?" he continued (What can I do for you? came a soulless howl of misery). "Still trying to find out if you'll be joining us when you pass on?" The ambassador smiles slightly. The Magistrate smiles back and shakes his head. "You know my views on that, ambassador," he replies levelly. "I'll not be drawn, I'm afraid. You can't provoke me into existential fear, you know." He then gives a polite little laugh, to which the ambassador responds in kind. As did his horrendous echo. "My soul, if such exists, is my own. It is not yours to punish or covet. The universe is a much more capricious place than that... I asked you before, what do you suppose happens to daemons when you die? As we both know you can." The ambassador bows his head in polite demur. "You're such a modernist, Magistrate," he says. "I won't argue with you. Please remember my offer stands." The Magistrate waves his hands impatiently. He was composed. He did not flinch at the pitiable screams which shadowed the ambassador's words. You take note of how he never seems to allow himself to show any disquiet. He treated the ambassador with wary respect. Such was also the daemon's attitude to him. Even when, as you all stare at the ambassador, the image of the man in the chair flickers for a tiny sliver of a second, to be replaced by... something else. Whenever you blink, for that infinitesimal moment, you see the room and its occupant in very different forms. Through your eyelids, you see the inside of a slatted cage; iron bars moving like snakes; arcs of unthinkable force, a jagged, rippling maelstrom of heat. Where the ambassador sits, you catch glimpses of a monstrous form. A hyena's head stares at you, tongue lolling. Breasts with gnashing teeth. Hooves and claws. And though you try, the stale air in the room will not allow you to keep your eyes open: you had to blink. "Ambassador, I'm here for two reasons. One is to extend to your master, Its Diabolic Majesty, the Czar or Hell, the respectful greetings of New Crobuzon's citizens. In their ignorance." The ambassador nods graciously in response. "The other is introduce to you some off-worlders who have only just arrived in the city. They have a request and possibly some information you may be interested in." "It's always our great pleasure to aid our neighbors, Magistrate. Especially those such as yourself, with whom Its Majesty has such good relations." The ambassador rubs his chin absently, waiting. "Twenty minutes, Magistrate," hisses Vansetty into the Magistrate's ear. The Magistrate takes a step back, giving you all the floor.
12-04-2017, 12:54 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-04-2017, 12:55 PM by Selina Parcellus.)
Selina gives Betimi a bit of a defeatist look. "Please do not think I do not know that." Is this where she was destined to finish her life...her career as a priestess? This was where the trail of the goddess had taken her, on some blasted land filled with sorrow and misery, no hope other than what is given by the grace of those in power? She should rise up against it...but how? She had given herself up, as had her companions. Why did everything look so bleak?
One thing she was certain of: the 'Magistrate' and this so-called 'Ambassador' were nothing short of pure evil. She would have ventured her soul on it, but she would not have wagered her soul on anything at all. Certainly not now. When they are introduced, she gives the Ambassador a neutral nod. "Greetings. As our erstwhile captor has already informed you, we are sojourners, forced into this world by circumstances not under our own control. We had just come from removing a creature from power that had been assaulting caravans and generally making certain lives quite miserable when the cavern we were in began to fill with water. We are not water-breathers by nature, so we sought shelter and found ourselves passing through a portal that we did not craft. The portal brought us into the sewers beneath this city." Selina uses as much calm as she can muster, but it's easy for her companions to see that she is on her last rope right now. They have likely never seen her so lost in her own emotions. "I said 'captor', because we were taken by force without provocation or cause. We were doing nothing other than purchasing supplies for the next stage of our journey, providing a service of coin to this town. If you will agree in letting us go home in peace, unchanged, I will tell you some of what I know of our own home plane. We will make our level best effort never to return to this place again." Selina's eyes bore in on the Magistrates throughout this calm-seeming monologue. She is quite angry with how things have proceeded thus far and wants nothing more than to return home. She hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, and had made it abundantly clear that she wanted to leave almost from the instant they arrived.
While Selina speaks she can't help but notice the ambassador's keen interest in her. Almost as if every word she spoke was a juicy morsel that the ambassador was ready to pounce upon and swallow whole.
"What are we talking about, Priest? True Answers?" asks the ambassador after Selina finishes. "Do you know the usual terms?" The Magistrate steps forward and replies for Selina, "True Answers... and perhaps more. We'll see." "Payment now, or later?" the ambassador replies, almost greedily. Ambassador," says the Magistrate politely. "Your memory momentarily falters. I am credited three questions." The ambassador stares at him a moment and laughs. "So you are, Magistrate. My deepest apologies. Proceed." "Are there any unusual rules of the moment, ambassador?" asks the Magistrate pointedly. The daemon nods his head (great hyena tongue briefly slavering from side to side) and smiles. "But the Priest has already made her request," the ambassador replies with a smile. "She was unaware to ask about the rules of engagement. You cannot hold an innocent accountable when they are not even aware of the existence of special requirements. Your kind has rules." the Magistrate replies. Selina spots a fresh bead of sweat trickling down his cheek. She senses for the first time a hint of desperation. The polite words of negotiation masked the true battle happening before their eyes. You all get the feeling that this slight unknown error may have normally doomed them all but the Magistrate was fighting for them as fiercely as he knows how. "Of course, Magistrate. But you should have counseled the Priest before allowing her to speak. This then is your error and it will cost you a question," the ambassador smiles broadly. The Magistrate nods. "So then what are the rules of the moment, ambassador?" "It is Melluary, Magistrate," it explained simply. "Usual rules of Melluary. Seven words, inverted." The Magistrate nods, then glances at your group and mutters, "Got to get the damn words right. Bloody infantile bloody game!" He composes himself, concentrating hard. Then he speaks quickly and levelly, gazing calmly into the ambassador's eyes, "World their about information for them pardon?" "Yes," replies the daemon instantly. "Fifteen minutes," hisses Vansetty! The ambassador waits...
12-05-2017, 11:51 PM
Selina suddenly looks puzzled, eyes crossing at the sudden exchange. This was a power struggle of some kind with a Devil. Of that much she was certain. Devil, while equally Evil to Demons, also possessed a set of "rules" of some kind. They were often cryptic and twisted, but they were there unlike their Abyssal cousins. Here the Magistrate was enforcing such rules without her knowledge. What in the world did 'Seven words, inverted' mean? She turns to Betimi, showing her clear bafflement and uncertainty.
((...not quite finished yet.)) |
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