K.A.W: Session 02 -- 'Fractured Views and Cracked Worlds' Report

General Summary

“Abase yourself, Ossiphan the Crooked One.”     Ossiphan dropped the journal he held and followed it to the crystal, tiled floor.     “Speak Ossiphan, as I need to learn what you know and your mind is closed to me.”     Cruk gather your thoughts, Ossiphan thought. His master couldn’t know his mind. As this was his great gift, he could be assured he was safe. As safe as he could be dealing face to face with the master of the Night. Ossiphan would not call the person before him Darkness. Not yet. The being had all the hallmarks of Old Darkness but Ossiphan was not entirely convinced he’d found what was left of Evil Incarnate.     Ossiphan collected both his journal and his thoughts while he stood.     “Master, I have been a fool. In my assigned duties and in yours, I have been playing the jester and all the time I have been distracting myself.”     “It is good to know oneself.”     Ossiphan had a well-developed control over his facial reactions to comments. It came from his long-time place with Order. Over four thousand years of bearing the innate Law will grant someone a good deal of composure. Still it irritated him to be insulted no matter the source. Ossiphan resisted the urge to debate the point. That was reserved for equals or the many beings who were less than him.     “I had been tracking the one known as Selidor of Law for a time. His actions with his father were infrequent but as this was the thrust of my mission, I held fast to him. He visited with his mother on a far more frequent basis. His mother is still incapacitated by the bite of the Serpent. The affliction that served to give rise to Selidor has truly taken over her and she is a lost spirit. Her requirements are —“     “Spare me this assessment. We have covered this before. Tell me of the most recent occasion of your travel.”     Ossiphan moved the pages of the ledger with a thought and continued.     “Selidor took himself to the appointed world his father had told him to find in the Third Realm. The miasm generator you gifted me began to fail but it brought me to the same place...” Ossiphan paused for this to register. The black-veiled figure did not speak and Ossiphan knew it was best to go on.     “The meeting of the children of Dworkin went as reported. I have also told you of my need to reveal myself to the younger set shortly thereafter... It was decided by Selidor and Osric to venture to the Canticle. This was a slight worry as my ability to follow was not certain by all means. Knowing that a continuation of my duty was imperative, I brought myself into both men’s confidence. I managed to gain passage to the Canticle on board Osric’s travel machine. As Selidor was happy to do the same this seemed practical.”     “Both were at ease with you? This is unlikely, isn’t it?”     “My nature is often accepted despite appearances.”     “These are not ordinary men.”     “No, they are not and because of this they have been forged by bitter experience to not look at the surface for answers. Some history of trusting the fair and despising the foul, all to their own loss and chagrin has taught them to look twice or thrice beyond appearances. If Osric were here to defend himself he would point out that he grew impatient with my being steadfast in my speech to him. He was irritated with me as I planned. This minor verbal fracas meant that he felt he knew I was only like himself and not something to be suspicious about. Who would try to slip past his guard by drawing a blade, eh? So, I gained a level of acceptance. Selidor could see my Orderliness. My service to Law is plain upon me and that was enough.     We traveled into spanspace. Osric controlled the ship of space handily. Of course we were noticed at some point by the Crimson Order’s ships. A battle began but this was a minor altercation. Few lives were affected beyond learning a few things about each other’s strengths and weaknesses.     A strange musical interlude broke through the ship. Images and emotions were shared by the bards producing this song. There were three distinct bardic types revealed. These were known to me from the past. They were Anvil of the Vastness, Sprite of the Veer and Death of Humanity.”         Black jets of his master’s veil seethed... Ossiphan noted his master's anger. The bards were a longstanding problem. His master had even promoted a continual river of song to be issued forth to try and drown out the bards' influence. It had been working recently to limit their impact. Ossiphan had had to tell what he had witnessed. He wasn't the kind of person to be tactful, not even to a superior. Ossiphan took a moment to shift his stance. This allowed a small delay in his continuing...         "Some things were beyond me as the music of Bards is neither entirely your domain or that of Order. They threw a deal of hidden lore at their audience. I cannot be sure how much registered. It was clear that the song was tailored to suit Selidor and Osric. I’m not sure if they saw this, however.”     “You seem filled with uncertainty. I’m not certain I approve of this 'new Ossiphan'.”     “I may be ‘crooked’ but not with you. If you wish me to use my subtlety on you?...”     “Not necessary. I remember our first meeting, Crooked One.”     “… In the aftermath, Osric took the ship directly away from the pursuit. I watched over his shoulder as he manipulated the ship’s controls. Osric’s heritage is as useful as ever. Shadow was truly well-misappropriated by those of the Golden City.     Osric’s effort at evasion was successful. His decision was to move into a scattering of small, fragmentary continents floating in space ahead of us. He used the first of these as shields to obscure his destination. The console indicated a collection of rocky pieces that was called the 'Samhain Debris Field'.     The engines of the ship seemed to be useful in the patchy air of the ‘world’ we took to. There wasn’t any greeting from this place as we descended. I had been made to expect a more thorough process by the Canticle. This place seemed less than controlled. Not at all what I had expected. Osric worked at the controls and the ship came rather quickly at the ground. It was clear that Osric was not going to follow an orderly means of landing the ship. Mechanized carts and coaches moved along the only flat areas suitable to bring the ship into at the speed we were making.     Osric was satisfied to descend. Landfall was all but managed. We were a scant few yards off the road when a much larger land contrivance emerged from an intersecting road. This thing looked to be employed as a crane to lift heavy goods from the hulls of ships. That it was being used on a sea-less world may mean it is put to some other purposes. Osric’s ship came off worse in the collision that occurred. It looked as though his attempt to draw the ship above the crane-vehicle would succeed but the wheels that the ship uses to land on must have just struck the ground vehicle’s top-most part. Osric advised us to brace ourselves. The ship hit hard and began to veer to the left. The engines expended their energy to slow the ship. The whole ship sloped to the left as it slid along. The smell of grinding metal came to me as smoke wafted before me. The ship refused to stay straight and we turned into the buildings’ fronts, impacting heavily.     Osric went below to check on the others. I was fine, of course, but Erdimaon had been thrown into the wall knocking his head badly. Osric tended to his servant. I looked for Seldior. He wasn’t in the ship. The hatch remained sealed for the moment so he had not walked out. My senses told me that the distinct aura of the Whipping Star still hung in the air and through the metal of the ship. Selidor’s vessel is capable of passing through material things. I expect that he decided the descent was too perilous and made good his own escape. I decided to get outside to try and learn whether Selidor had taken a short trip or had departed this small world altogether. Osric too, had determined to get out to the people collecting around the ship.     Some vehicles that levitated above the road had appeared from around a corner. They seemed made to lift damaged ships. So their communications are better on the surface than when directed spaceward. Osric left me to deal with those who asked questions about the ship’s rather strange choice of landfall. I enjoyed my minute as ship’s captain. It was a small thing to put aside these peoples’ concerns and questions until Osric decided to allow that he was the ship’s master. If he’d left me to it, I might well have owned the ship in another ten minutes but this was not my focus.     Once the ship had been lifted off the road and taken away for repair, I announced my intention to get after Selidor. This was not the truth as the Whipping Star’s trail signature indicated to me that it was travelling toward the Canticle Homeworld. I had no doubt that Selidor would find the Homeworld community fascinating. He wouldn’t be leaving there anytime soon. I could safely leave him to his travel and pick up the trail in a day’s time. My interest was in learning what Osric meant to do to get to Selidor without his ship and without my intervention. I had done this once before. For me to remind Osric’s conscience of family duty twice in such a short time would not be welcomed.     I elected to mask my form in my usual way. Following Osric and the barely restored Erdimaon proved simple. The locals refer to this place among the ‘Cracked Worlds’ as Treizia. It is a place of wealth and near-poverty and little in-between. It is to the less wealthy area that Osric goes. Here he meets a stranger who takes some care for Erdimaon’s injury. This man, a worker at the mines of Treizia, gives Erdimaon a lend of his cot. This is in a worker’s barracks building. Osric and Erdimaon spend the rest of the day at rest. The worker returns and answers Osrics questions about money with a suggestion that Osric should talk to a man named Scrutibix. Once they leave, it is clear that Osric is fixed on getting some funds. This is proving a slight issue as much of the money used here is on accounts of some kind. No physical coinage seems to be employed. He tries to will some passer-by to let him get close enough to remove their exchange device. I wonder if this is wise as there may well be wards upon these items to note when they are taken. As it is an Amberite I watch, I hold my peace. If he should wind up in detention, I will learn enough. Those he approaches are wary. It might be the strangeness of Erdimaon, as he is still dressed in Mirantian garments. Eventually they spy a pair of well-dressed men who, after talking to each other and sharing some kind of absorbable food, went into a kind of club. Osric went to follow these men inside but was stopped by a Vast doorman. Osric is both irritated at this obstacle and pleased that the Vastness are represented in the Canticle. It is Erdimaon who gets them access to the club. He offers his maul to the doorman, who eventually seems to recognise the maul’s makers as being of his people. He has not seen such handiwork before and is happy to let them enter if he is left alone with the maul. Erdimaon must be simple to allow it but he does and he and Osric go inside.     The club was only for the rich. Men and women in modern dress moved about the large room in studied casualness. Osric eyed these people for a suitable find. I was reminded of my time in the kingdom of Atlantes – there were sharks in the waters there too. Before Osric could find a suitable trail in the water, he came to a group of five people immersed in talk. Three were human. One was a Veer and the last was a well-dressed humanoid with a black cat’s head. I know of no race that fits this, although there are some that resemble this in general. I will assume this ‘cat-human’ is unique until I learn more of him. As Osric listens to the fives’ conversation, it becomes evident that they discuss an investment possibility. It is the cleftyck veer who leads the conversation. The ‘cat-human’ is happy to listen, adding a few pertinent comments from time to time. Osric’s eyes gleam at the sight of the device that the most interested of the humans brings out to make a contribution to the investment. The device is called a ‘gramaphone’. Grams are the base unit of exchange. The device is capable of processing and distributing the grams to the appropriate person. It is a small thing, no larger than a man’s palm and circular. It looks metallic and is circular and flat. A smooth disk of a device.     After this investor leaves, the two non-humans turn their attention fully upon Osric. He welcomes their questions. The Veer is eager to include Osric in whatever scheme he and the cat-human have got going. He introduces himself as WX and the cat as Scrutibix. Osric shows no recognition of the name. They enter a discussion which moves fast. Their minds are aligned. They can work together on a project that is of Osric’s invention. He will offer the two Treizians his production of gramophones if they will give him a place to work and the raw materials to fashion the devices from. Scrutibix is happy to learn that Osric is a “forger”. I am happy to learn that Scrutibix is a criminal. I will have to keep ‘tabs’ on him.     This is where things are left. Osric and Erdimaon move to a rooming house where the Veer has indicated they can stay and get to work.“     "Ossiphan, you began this meeting telling me you had been made to look a fool. I have heard nothing to confirm this. Why?"     Inwardly Ossiphan drew upon his mind and spirit. He needed to tread extremely carefully on these next few paces. "It is more that I have been so involved with the details of these two that I have missed the more important occurrence of the movement of the Dragons. I hope you will allow me this error in judgement."     "You speak from your past life. Your affiliations in the Old Realm no longer matter. I have no use for what you were, only for what you can make of your skills now. Forgo your past. You are no longer with Order so make no apologies based on what the Dragon of Law would expect."     "I will try to remember that, assuming that Akkadia does likewise."     "You're a bold one to name the Thought of Law. I'm pleased you have joined with me. I will need this kind of brashness soon."     "It wasn't named in the Bards' song but it was inferred by association with some of the song's accompanying images."     "Wait. Images? ... What was shown?"     "Figures out the past and of the present. Beings of small matter and beings great to try to imagine."     "You mention your old master but tell me it was not shown. What is behind you doing this?"     "I need your trust."     "What others did you see?"     "Of these only one that interested me. This was an immense thing. I took it to be one of the Thirteen Thoughts. I cannot say which. It bore a head of tentacles."     "The sleep ends."     Ossiphan looked up from his journal. The veils swirled in a way that he knew meant Darkness was considering next actions. He could be sure that there would be a reasoned approach to its commands. It was why Ossiphan had chosen to work towards its aims. The Age of Order was ended. Ossiphan Cruk was certain of it. The Dragon of Law would be a toothless creature in this realm. It had to be. The promise of a right-making in the due passage of time was critical to his continuation. Ossiphan could await for a time. He had much to learn until that time arrived.