Chapter One: The Golden Age [Interstice]

Amilar Blefuscu


Knocking back a second shot, Blef grimaces. "I'll have to work on that little light-show nervous habit."
 
To Kaya


You'll feel the tug, as all the others do, as certainly as Blef does, watching him do his mummy-walk. South. Go South.


"You're shameful, but you'll do nicely."


For a moment, you'll feel something like a collar round your neck, tugging you forward. Immaterial.


"There is nothing. You're just like them."


"I can see you. Come. Home."
 
Marcus


He blinks once. Twice. The silence is overwhelming. But no one else heard the voice. 'Did they?'


Immediately, the possibilities begin to cascade through his mind.


'What was that? What caused it? Did it affect everyone? The voice... what did it say?'


Without even thinking, his hand goes into the satchel at his side and draws out a tight roll of parchment and a brush. In the tiniest handwriting possible, he quickly writes the words he picked out of the haze. After reading and re-reading his transcription, it occurs to him that reporting as soon as possible would be wise. Getting a general feeling of the people around him and their reactions, as well as his own impressions... what just happened?


Perception + Occult: 8 dice: 4 successes [ 0 9 7 3 4 1 1 2 ]
 
Kaya


"I did feel something, Garda," Kaya replied thoughtfully when she found herself transfixed by the abrupt change in the musician's demeanor. Why was he walking outside all of a sudden?


She felt something tight clamped around her neck, hauling her sharply forward. Kaya half sprawled across the table, a hand knocking her nearly empty glass of wine over. Her fingers clawed at her neck reaching for something that wasn't there. Anger tinged with a bit of fear filled her eyes.
 
To Anju


For a moment, you can see the tree rising up in your mind, all black roots and arms. The roots slither out for you and wrap with a harsh, brutal grasp. And you feel it tug. Tug hard enough that you actually feel yourself become nauseated, doubling over for just a second.


You run.


You'll find Saeka, sitting on the edge of one of the wagons breathing deeply, fingers clenched and digging into the wood as she looks to be on the verge of a rare fury. She's surrounded by the children, who try to calm her.


"Anju...it calls to us all." Her voice is weak and ragged. She'll open her eyes wide, shining silver, sanity slowly returning to them. "It calls. Find Jonas. We must leave this area. Soon." She'll have one of the little ones fetch her water.
 
To Marcus


It for a moment reminded you of something your teacher, Gilded Leaf, taught you when you first Exalted. It was your lessons in the manners of essence in the world. It was akin to the theoretical motonic cascade. Usually created by manses undergoing a terrible flux in their demenses. But you imagine Leaf would laugh and say this is nothing of the sort...


The mortals look troubled...but only your compatriots look physically pained or any such thing. Whatever happened to the flutist was strongest.


And the gentleman Adair has gone deathly quiet and a bit pale.
 
Anju


For a second, Anju sputtered out nothing. She wanted to share what she felt, to be comforted against that small piece of insanity. How could Jonas come here for so long and never be bothered by that careening sound? Jonas! Saeka was right, and looked ready to tear apart the world.


Oh, great mother Luna, may he help them if she lost it. Help the children. Why wouldn’t Saeka know where Jonas was?


Wordlessly, Anju spun on her heel and began searching for her mentor. Where oh where? An illusionary tree couldn’t take him. She shivered at the image of the disconnected body parts caught in the trees roots.


Wits (3) + Survival (2): Results for 5 dice: 1 success [ 6 7 5 1 6 ] (TN: 7)
 
Marcus


"I guess that means I'm not the only one hearing things." He looks to the door, feeling his feet begin to take him toward it, but he fights back the urge again. His duties remain firmly planted in the forefront of his mind. Instead, upon rising, he grabs up the others' glasses.


"I promised something to drink, and I will not disappoint. Seems we could all use another about now... are you all right?" he pauses in front of Adair, frowning at his pale complexion before noticing Garda and Kaya looking equally disturbed. "For that matter, are either of you all right?"


After turning toward the bar, Marcus will give a slight nod to himself, activating Prior Warning.


Wits + Awareness: 7 dice: 3 successes [ 1 2 6 9 8 5 9 ] - 6 minutes
 
To Anju


The best you'll find at first is his jacket, which is draped over his tent supplies in one of the wagons. Only little Kimi saw him a few minutes ago, counting up stock in the barrels. Hasn't seen him since.
 
To Marcus


Your senses extend and each thrum of Fate's threads will sing like a tinkling bell should any danger come near. The feeling to leave soon passes.


Adair will look at you with a shaky smile, "Yeah...weirdest sort of lucid dream, really." He'll shake his head. "I'll take a double of whatever you get--Kaya, you okay?"
 
Kaya


Pressing her palms against the table top, Kaya pushed herself back into her chair, sagging slightly, her fingers still searching for that band she felt around her throat to no avail. Adair's voice finally penetrated the strange hazy half-dream, making her turn her dark amber eyes towards him. "I'm...not sure." She angled her neck this way and that, her bones on her slender neck cracking as she did. "I could use a drink though. I'll be alright after that, I'm sure." She tried to give him a reassuring smile as she carefully righted the glass that she knocked over.
 
To Amilar


"Whoa, you okay, man? I didn't know you were one of the Dragon's Children. Shit, I'll buy you more drinks if you want!" The kid who stopped you is in full-awe mode. Clearly ignoring the weird moment that just passed and seems to grip some of the folks with Garda.
 
Amilar Blefuscu


Subtle, Blef. Reeeeal subtle. The Veil would be proud.


"I'm nobody's son, kid. And yeah, I'm alright. But, if you're buying an ale..."
 
To Amilar


"Sure! Piet! Give me one of the Blumen's Tap." Soon enough, a nice looking lager will be handed to you with a thick head upon it. Damn, even smells good.
 
Amilar Blefuscu


"Cheers."


Blef takes the ale and drinks deeply. Damn that's good. It's good to be Prince...
 
Marcus


Three fresh drinks are arranged between the travelers as Marcus sits clasping his mug between wringing hands. He seems very introspective, not really aware of the conversations going on around him. Occasionally something seems to occur in his haze, and he scribbles quickly and quietly before resuming his staring past the other occupants of the table.


"... ...Oh, are the drinks ok?"
 
Anju


Anju grabbed the jacket and smiled at Kimi, “I’m just borrowing this, okay? Can you tell Saeka that so I don’t get in trouble again? I’ll give you a share of my dessert next time.â€


That counted as reporting into Saeka, right? As soon as she got a response, Anju was off again. Jonas couldn’t have gotten very far in a few minutes. Unless he decided to shift and then go running. Ick. Well, she had his jacket… she could always try finding him by scent if eyes weren’t enough. He also wasn’t the only one with a fast form!


And if they were getting worked up for nothing, he’d come find her for the jacket.


Results for 5 dice: 3 successes [ 0 1 7 3 5 ] (TN: 7)
 
Kaya


The drink disappeared down her throat before Marcus even finished his question. Setting her mug down, Kaya replied, her usual humor slowly returning. "Either it's a bit watered down or I just need something stronger after all that. Still, my thanks. I'd rather have the drink than not."
 
To Anju


You'll trace your way along the Stone Road, looking amongst the spaces between the wagons in both trains. Looking everywhere. You'll spend minutes looking over the whole block before you find him slumped over in an alley, on his back in a puddle and staring at the stars past the high walls to either side. Glassy eyed and pale, his lips are moving, but he doesn't seem to even see you.


He just keeps whispering the same thing over and over,


"I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home."
 
Garda


"The drinks are fine and much needed I'd say. So what is it exactly that you are so busily scribing over there?"
 
Anju


Not good. Ha ha ha. They weren’t worked up over nothing. Bad tree, very bad tree. Hmph, very bad screaming city.


“Jonas?â€


Anju’s mouth twitched to one side and she kneeled next to him. Bending over so her mouth was closer to his ear, she cupped her hands and took a deep breath, “Jonaaaaaaaaaaaaaass! Your shirt is stinky, and you’re getting weeeeeeeet!â€
 
Marcus


"Oh, dates, times, archetypes, personality traits. Names, too. Lots of names - I have to write them down when they occur to me, otherwise I'll forget. Oh, for stories of course. I write fiction." One last swig, and Marcus will again place an empty glass on the table. Counting the number of times he'd done that in twenty minutes (and taking a little longer to than expected), the decision to stop, for now, was easy.


Stretching back in his chair, he'll turn his gaze back to Garda, "I need some fresh air. I'll be outside." And with only a brief pause to wait for any reply, he will stand and walk almost straight to the door, passing into the cool evening air.
 
Garda


He will raise a glass to Marcus and then to the rest of the table. "Fair thee well friend, and to the rest of you as well. I'm turning in for the night, It'll be an ealry start tomorrow I"m sure."


At that he'll stand and head back to the caravan to find his hidden retreat and his bedroll, he had secretly set up amidst some boxes in one of the wagons.
 
To Marcus


Cool evening air indeed. People are milling about around the caravans parked on the main road of town, many talking about the clarion horn of Siren calling out in the night again. Seems to be a hot topic here, but no one really seems affected outside the chills.
 
Marcus


Slumping against the outside wall of the tavern, Marcus begins scratching his notes into a letter, addressed to "whom it may concern." After five minutes of long hand and demense diagrams meticulously copied, he places the folded letter in an envelope. Slipping it discreetly into his satchel, he pushes himself upright and begins a slow walk down the stretch of wagons and carts, gazing skyward, searching for signs of things to come.
 
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