A t E: Session 10 - Epilogue

General Summary

Scratched on a Cell Wall       A formula may be in order...   ‘E’ is for escape. Make no mistake, the letter must be capitalised. Escape would mean a great deal to me. I have been stuck in this cell for a very long while. Fortunately, I have had my thoughts and amplifiers to amuse me during the long hours of incarceration. “Safe arrest”, he’d called it. That man had a lot to answer for! I accept that my chromamancy is useful, even incredibly useful but hiding me away from this, Ceriestrident fellow seemed then and strikes me much more today, as an over-reaction. I’ve never even laid an eye on the man. Villain he may be but my freedom to exercise my skills should be non-negotiable.       Back to the formula but first, I take an amplifier in hand to make the Colours resound and impart. The globular head is carefully covered in metallic attenuation-lacework. Within the globe, strange perturbations thrust hues ‘round inside and allow the metal threads that cross within the sphere to cling to whichever combined Colours they are attracted to. Upon close examination of the globe, one can just manage to note that there are hues, fleeting and rare, if only momentarily seen before they turn and return to being more typical Colours. A few of these singular hues can be chosen between but only one will serve. Only one will suit my present conditional need. The hue I seek appears. I touch the globe’s surface quickly and direct it appropriately with my figmentstar. This will be my... thirty-ninth attempt at the formula. I need to learn if my escape can be expected, mayhaps enticed to appear? What if I have been too passive in my formulaic designs on the preceding thirty-eight attempts? Shall I be more demanding? Shall I seek a rescue rather than await freedom? I think I should be less selfless and more active. To this end I determine that the formula should include... me. I select the most silvery hue for this — after all, am I not a platinack mandrillan? — and entwine both red and blue cords along it, representing the previous days of my ‘imprisonment’ and my future ‘parole’. Having done so I will the resulting plaitcord into the letter that represents me. An ‘M’ — not for ‘Me’ but for ‘Mandrillan’ — the name of my kind. Of course I’m being liberal with this definition as my kind are all dead, save for myself. I am a rogue by definition, not by choice. Still my loneliness is harder in this cell, than at any time in the past contemplating my kind’s extinction! This blasted cell. It most certainly is influencing my current fate. If its construction had been mundane I might have been away from it long since. Fearsomely, the cell was more likely exalted than anything else. I am not counting myself too highly to suggest that I might free myself if the cell had been built less well. In my last four formulae I had accounted for the cell’s noble construction and had seen some improvements in the weakening of the cordbonds that held me inside.       So, I needed to include the cell in my formula. Indeed, given my recent successes, I thought to re-double the emphasis on the cell’s place in my predicament. I let the cell be represented by the letter,’C’ and to add to its prominence, elected to use a pair of polished silver cords, spaced specifically to re-reflect one another geometrically.       It was all I could do to manage the figmentstar and the formula, while trying to observe the globular amplifier’s responses. What I saw there more than filled my next few hours with interest. So engrossed was I, that I was surprised when my freedom arrived. But I get ahead of myself! Let me recount what the amplifier revealed.       In the first minutes I beheld a group of individuals. This was comprised of a human in a Deathwing uniform. I had seen many in my time on that mainstay world. It was a world unlike the other two I have known, those being my homeworld of Tebberan and Logresse. Arcithia, the world of the Deathwing brigades, is a place of steam-propelled technologies. This man bore the insignia of a commander of some kind. Like most from there, he had a serious look about him... Another was what I would have once called a sylph. In my time on Logresse, I learned that the more accepted term is cleftyck. For me, it is hard to stop thinking of this race as the former. After all, they are as prone to emerging from the ground, devoid of clothing and carrying on with total abandon on Logresse as Tebbaren. This cleftyck was unusually, garbed. Unusually, because as I just said, those I have seen before this one always were disrobed. It means nothing of itself, I am after all a Beast and used to such. He was swaddled in a cloak that rose high up at the collar, to sit many-folded at his chin. His hair was stiffened by some kind of wax and worn straight back, away from his face as though he stood facing into a brisk gale. This revealed his ears, sharp as knives. They were all but parallel to the ground and quite beastial. I thought them rather evolved. His manner too was beastial, though in this case, that meant furtive and sly, like a night time predator. Quite like a weasel or stoat... There was a very large woman. She looked Human enough but her size was of an order that led me to doubt that this was her extraction. She was also horned at the temples. This alone would make me interested but this potential Teberranian effect, combined with her size, made me quite weak at the knees! She was as near a thing to a Mandrillan as I have seen in many years... Also, there was a construct. It was created to appear male in stature and composition. ‘He’ was dressed as a Rakshahasan judge or a lawyer, or even a undertaker. Severe black, in both coat and hat, dressed his form. His form was more interesting. A golden armour plating encompassed this. It was only in the matter of the eyes where this being’s truth could be observed. It had no eyes.       In my time on Logresse I had had occasion to get rather mixed into a disturbance involving an enlyvener of base nature. This fellow, Dweomandan, had a cavalry of knights known as the Implacables. These knights were revealed to be constructs formed by him over some years. Their forms were as armoured warriors but their eyes shone with a baleful Orange light. It was my fate to become embroiled in the fight to beat these ‘men’ and their ambitious leader. These knights were not to be dismissed as they could call upon their Colour to assist them. In being a construct, it appeared that they had a more direct link to the plane of their Colour. Natural law says that they must suffer in other areas for this boon. They were short-lived things. They chose a rapid return on their gifted power. Most unwise or mayhaps, overly determined. As a fire may consume its fuel slowly or all at once, these Implacables chose the latter. I had many opportunities to marvel at their gifts. Even their horse-like mounts were constructs! I came close to death, being kicked by one. The strength of these false creatures was nothing to dismiss. There were times I feared that the mounts were in fact greater than their riders and that Dweomadan had created the Implacables only as a hedge to hide his greater creation! It was also during that time that I investigated the equine creatures of Tebbaren, to see if there might be a racial possibility in their number. I had been convinced that the creatures’ nobility contained the potential for Racial stature. With the extinction of my own kind, it meant that the Demi-races of Tebbaren were down one. That line of thought is still available for study. I haven’t been able to pursue it to any conclusion... The golden armoured construct was markedly other than an Implacable in many obvious ways. ‘He’ bore none of the hallmarks of Dweomadan’s hand at the ‘hammer’. This one interested me more than the rest. If I had my studies to re-over again, I would choose enlyvening as my mastery. The making of things and giving them animate reality, strikes me as being close to a Loredly power. In so far as I cannot, I have made it my goal to mark the occurrences of constructions and their ways.         This group made their way to a not too distant structure. To me it resembled a manor-house as I had seen on a few occasions on Logresse. These were the homes of minor nobles and bore some improvements as compared to a similarly sized home. Able to be somewhat self-sufficient and defensible, these manor houses were usually good places to stay a night or two. The structure revealed by the amplifier was in some degree better than those I had previously seen, due to its positioning amid a river. I nodded in satisfaction at the builder’s craft at turning the natural water course into an ready made moat. Unlike the moats I had seen on Logresse, this one would not be fouled through stagnation.       I watched the party arrive and make its way up to the main concourse. They moved with purpose as though a predetermination has been made about their action. Through an unlocked door they went... this was my cue to adjust the amplifier. Concentric rings along its handle can be manipulated to resolve the view in various ways. It has led some who have seen me use it to call it a ‘magick spyglass’ but I always point out that this is wrong, as the globular amplifier has no eyepiece to stare through. An amplifier is a faraway thing from a spyglass, useful as those tubes may be. The control a chromamancer can attain over an amplifier is of an higher order of thing. Adjustments made, I peered through the amplifier's surface layer to see what the group was about. It became clear that they had split up. A minor thing for me to resolve with a ratchet-pull and twist on the handle. Now, I could choose which party to observe. The Arcithian got embroiled with a group of humans in a game of chance. The room was set-up to allow the game to be played, with its own bar so that the play could continue unabated by the need to return upstairs to get provender of the solid or the liquid variety. He elected to play but not before some agreement had been reached by he and the cleftyck. Many dice were thrown in rapid succession and the winner seemed to continually be the one whom the Arcithian played against. I confess to being rather distracted during this and cannot detail the rules of this game though it seemed simple enough. This should indicate the level of my interest in another aspect of the gambling room that I viewed. While the Arcthian rolled and the cleftyck watched, I had only eyes for the impressively large woman dominating the room. Her easy way while watching the gaming struck me as most noble. She seemed to have no cares at all for her own situation. Such confidence! I admit to being rather taken with her. The Arcithian seemed to be doing poorly. As with all games, there came the telling play. He seemed once again to have set his course for the rocks of defeat when unexpectedly, he won. I viewed this sequence again a couple of times and while all seemed well, there was, it cannot be denied, something very odd in the moment of victory. A use of Colour mayhaps. I might have to review this later but at that moment the other party's scene became far more interesting.         The construct had gone upstairs. There he entered a room wherein a young Human girl and a strange winged being resided. This being might have been a sylph. I had seen several that had similarly diaphanous wings. Among the cleftyck of Logresse I had viewed but one of this nature, however, and when I had spoken to her, she had told me laughingly that she was neither cleftyck nor sylph. She was kindly and said my assumptions were not foolish. For this small mercy I was ever-grateful, as at the time I was in a crowded hall and had called her so within the hearing of most. She was named, Ragyle. She was a Geli'Qys... The construct spoke briefly with the girl and for a longer time with the Geli'Qys. Not being able to hear what was said through the amplifier has always been the one thing I would change if I was able. They seemed to be important words and the winged one said a great deal. At one point an image was shown of a cadavivva! I have spent they largest portion of my life warring against the sleepless ones of Zomb. The individual in the image was one that filled me with rage. Amorr. The great thronetumbler. On Logresse he was ill-vaunted. Now it might be that he was here, wherevcer that might be. Following this there was some nonsense with a serving boy who evidently liked the young girl. She was interesting as she appeared to bear some damage at her neck. The construct took some pains to examine her. I could not say if 'he' was satisfied or dissatisfied with her condition...     Within a short span of time it came to pass that the manor house was subject of a cadavivva tactic: the 'nazsvarm'. This occurs when the sleepless ones target a location from a stability on Zomb. Using their sense of the living, the cadavivva are able to 'scent' their way through the ground to a chosen place. Luckily, this is limited to the world they are on and there, to the landmass they are located upon. Water and Air are not their allies. What this means for any living beings upon the world, is that the sleepless most certainly have established themselves somewhere on this land. If Amorr holds the reins of this invasive funerary wagon, then all should be fearful. The talk broke up and the group departed. Little of consequence occurred with the construct remaining behind to watch over the girl. It was not long after that he detected movements from his window vantage point. The first was a smuggler on the river. The second movement was out on the rooftops and was as troubling as the smuggler was amusing, because appearing on the peak of building's roof were drinarchs. These were sleepless casters, capable of horrid, transformative techniques. The drinarchs self-manipulate their bodies to make them capable of feats impossible for normal flesh and blood. This can mean squeezing themselves through improbably narrow openings, reaching great distances to several levels above their height or even creating additional limbs. They can be destroyed only with great difficulty. Interring them in the soil from which they spring is the best, if not easiest thing to accomplish. Weapons closely related to the earth also cause them much anguish but not any made or comprised of metal. This has been the cause of many unfortunate deaths! The construct could not know any of this of course, as he made effort to dispense his gonnes at two drinarchs on the roof. While destrying them was impossible through such means, the cadavivva still must answer to some natural states of being. As a result of the impact of the gonnes' load, one of the drinarchs was forced from the rooftop, cartwheeling into the river below. At this point I noted that the Arcithian had reached the main taproom of the building, where he too was beset by a drinarch, this one more experienced as evidenced by his darker garments. The drinarch have a fondness, if not a weakness, for fine fabrics, the heavier and more substantial the better. The Arcithian reacted much as any upon seeing these cadavivva for the first time. Interesting as the sleepless have recently had congress with some of the empire. This Arcithian, despite his commander's insignia, must not be favoured with internal communications typically given to such. I wonder as to why this might be. The amplifier sparks with motes both black and white. This is most odd. I can't recall ever seeing this form of cordal activity within the globular amplifier before. The Arcithian moves more purposefully after this as well. He shouts to those with him, directing their attention to the cadavivva. The manner of his instruction leaves me certain that he has somehow received instruction about the nature of the drinarch! I must decide that this and the motes in the amplifier are two things connected. I do not know what that means, however.   The construct watched the main taproom from above on a terrace overlooking the Arcithian and the Sri arch. It was at this stage ‘he’ did something most interesting. ‘He’ used a caste on the cadavivva which seemed to create in the unfeeling scourge a great distraction and, if I may say so, pain! Remarkable. Such castes as I have heard being capable of this kind of effectiveness have been the sole domain of the truely blessed. Certainly not a thing for an animated set of golden plates and rivets. This construct is even more a thing I want to study.     The construct returned to the window to mark the advance of the other drinarch and noted the arrival of another figure at the rooftop level. This figure remained an unknown quantity in the incursion only until the construct fired his weapon with the intent to startle the figure. In this he is very successful, and the figure is revealed to be a Yellow, female monk of some kind. I can't place her manner as being from any of the three worlds I know. It may be that she is an inhabitant of another place and indeed, I have begun to believe that this whole event is taking place on a world I have no prior experience with. Her efforts on the roof are compromised and she eventually is dislodged from there to the concourse below. Being a monk she seems to manage the abrupt descent with a deal of grace. The construct returns 'his' attentions to the sleepless one that approaches his window. This seems to be quite against the plans of the construct, who had begun to urge the girl, the boy and the cleftyck out of the window on to the roof. Wisely enough, the cadavivva within the manor house being more dangerous than the rooftop individual. This drinarch is sent from the eave of the roof and it lands hard upon the concourse, where the Yellow monk castes and creates Earthern substance for the drinarch to be inhumed by. The construct then seeks to get the children out from the cadavivvan incursion's influence.     The Arcithian determines much the same thing is wisest at more or less the same time. He returns to the lower floor where he produces a key. This seems rather unnecessary as the wall he approaches has no door nor is there a chest before it, nor desk with locked drawer nor indeed any sign of a lock nearby. He then looks about the wall until he pushes hard against it. This results in the whole wall moving and after further exertion, he manages to reveal a bridge on both sides of this vertical wall. He clambers over the wall to the other side of the bridge and this leads him on and down a staircase. At the bottom he locates a door with a keyhole. He opened the door and I am forced to tear my attention away from my globular amplifier, wherein I have watched him doing this and address him directly. This will be all I write here, hopefully never to return to continue this narrative!

Character(s) interacted with

Kade   Surtice   Yseth   Curtaine   Eddivaine   Brishinlog   Pethro   The corpseman   Blerogard