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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

Hopefully the Empire can successfully centralize in the way that the HRE never could. That level of decentralization just isn't very helpful or efficient.
 
Hopefully the Empire can successfully centralize in the way that the HRE never could. That level of decentralization just isn't very helpful or efficient.
The electoral states are supposed to be separate, and that's been the case since the Empire started. There's just a clearer line between the small number of electors and the other nobles.
 
My Mage-Priest contact Xhokiwoki was perfectly happy to provide me with examples of Lustrian fruit and vegetables, but last time I asked they told me that the Mage-Priests hadn't seen fit to speak about my situation
Shouldn't this be 'Skink Priest'? Or whatever specific title they have, all I remember for sure is that 'Mage-Priest' only means Slann.


Since I don't like the changes Total Warhammer made to the lore, there isn't much written about Cathay
They didn't actually change anything, you know. Some dragon breeds are sapient; other breeds aren't. That was, as I recall, the only conflict.
 
Shouldn't this be 'Skink Priest'? Or whatever specific title they have, all I remember for sure is that 'Mage-Priest' only means Slann.
He calls Choccy-woccy a Mage-Priest contact, not a Mage-Priest. They contact the Mage-Priests. That's my interpretation, anyway.
 
Shouldn't this be 'Skink Priest'? Or whatever specific title they have, all I remember for sure is that 'Mage-Priest' only means Slann.
Thank you, corrected.
They didn't actually change anything, you know. Some dragon breeds are sapient; other breeds aren't. That was, as I recall, the only conflict.
Do you have any references for intelligent dragons as of 4th edition?
 
We dont have an overview of the various non-YJ crossovers somewhere do we? It would be nice to read up on the chapters set in the other universes, there are hears between some of those chapters.
 
I was reading earlier chapters from the anti-life apocalypse going on and was wondering, since anti-life is spreading through the thaumosphere and getting on people's souls and whatnot.

Would Paul be immune if he still was soulless, not having absorbed enough magic? Unless I'm missing something with the vector of transmission. From a meta perspective it seems sensible since there was nothing Source-like in his home reality.
 
I was reading earlier chapters from the anti-life apocalypse going on and was wondering, since anti-life is spreading through the thaumosphere and getting on people's souls and whatnot.

Would Paul be immune if he still was soulless, not having absorbed enough magic? Unless I'm missing something with the vector of transmission. From a meta perspective it seems sensible since there was nothing Source-like in his home reality.

Magic can affect non-magical stuff. Paul was extra vulnerable to magic attacks before he had a soul, not immune. The thaumosphere wouldn't directly affect him like it does people with souls, but if it can infect him like it can affect apocalypse the planet (ie made of non living stuff), so it wouldn't help much
 
"Anyway, once that's done I can focus on the roads. High Loremaster Teclis threatened to ask his brother to check my working on the logistics, and, um. I'd rather that didn't happen."

"Yes, I've met Prince Tyrion and I can well understand your reservation."
Despite Tyrion's disagreements with Teclis on what goes on outside of Ulthuan, he's oft considered the more charismatic of the two though, and add on Paolo's ENORMOUS contribution to elfkind, (that would surely have earned the favor of The Everqueen and commoner elves everywhere, if the majority of Asur nobility are too proud be grateful to a human), as well as helping out his brother with his medical issues, I rather doubt he'd be entirely unpleasant to be around.

Let me guess, he's incessantly cheerful with a small amount of condescending compassion without realizing it, due to not being acclimated to talking to humans?
 
Do you have any references for intelligent dragons as of 4th edition?

Do you have a reference saying they don't exist? It's a big world. As I recall, your grounds for stupidity was an animal-handling check for dragonriders. All that proves is that the majority of Elven dragonriders ride bestial dragons; it doesn't even prove the Ulthuan special characters rode dumb beasts. Let alone Wood Elves, Chaos, and whoever else I'm forgetting.

Also I'm pretty sure Egrimm van Horstmann's story includes him making deals with his intelligent dragon mount. Which wouldn't pe proof, since he's a two-headed Chaos monstrosity, except I remember he outright says he made a deal with Chaos, meaning he was intelligent before.
 
Wait Time (part 8)
17th February 2013
14:12 GMT


"…should be here."

Mercury looks around at the surrounding landscape as we step out of the fairy ring, frowning discontentedly.

To be fair, it does remind me a lot more of the landforms of Sussex, with chalky hillsides and short-cropped grass. I can see herds of sheep grazing, guarded by dogs and simply-dressed shepherds. It's not Cornwall, though…. It might be how Cornwall was a few thousand years ago when the nature of this place would have been defined? I can't see Mr. Marrack Very Senior, or any overt sign of his magic.

"Why isn't he here?"

Mitchell looks over to the closest shepherd, who has glanced up at us with no real expression of concern. "I could go ask someone?"

Robert shakes his head. "This isn't the biggest afterlife, but… They don't-. There's no infrastructure. No newspapers or cameras. Great Granddad could be anywhere and they wouldn't know about it, even if they've heard of him, which they might not have done."

Richard steps in front of the frustratedly-pacing Mercury.

"What do you mean, 'he should be here'?"

"Here!" She points at the ground. "Everything says this is where he was. He should-"

The hillside opposite us disappears. Instead I see a.. wall of rock and earth, small tufts of grass growing in patches, as if the earth had just shot upwards-. It's moving-?

I raise a construct barrier at the same moment as Mitchell fires heat vision and M'gann fires a telekinetic wave, a giant rock… Limb? Slamming into our position! My shield is knocked back slightly, then M'gann's eyes glow brighter and shoves the arm away trailing molten magma from where Mitchell hit it!

And that gives us a slightly better view of-.

"Is that a f-?"

"Yeah, mate."

There's a face, not so much carved from rock as rock just sort of broke in a vaguely face-like shape. Now that my brain has adjusted for scale I can see the shape of its humanoid body, and-. It's not paying us attention-.

"Yield, Brannan."

A grey fist of granite erupts from the ground and punches the fomorian in the ankle, soil spraying away and staggering it.

"I have no desire to kill you-"

'Brannan' sights something and brings his hands around in a slap, clouds of dirt erupting from the point of impact!

"-but your rampage ends here!"

Two hands fall to the ground, Brannan staggering a step back and staring at his wrist stumps.

"Hey, that's Great Granddad!"

Kon assesses the state of the fomorian. "Does he need help? Or the giant?"

M'gann lowers her right hand, eyes still glowing. Then she winces, the glow cutting out. "Anti-Life. He's been exposed to it. Somehow." She shakes her head, grimacing. "It's.. controlling him."

"Cornwall, do you know any mind-effect spells?"

"Couple? Not good ones."

I know the spells he means. They're variants on the ones used to confuse travellers in swamps and lead them off course. Usually they wouldn't do much in combat, but they should do what we need here.

Brannan shoves his wrist stumps down, boring into the ground before pulling them out-. With new hands on the ends. He waves them upwards, soil exploding and filling the air!

"Kon, he's doing an Antaeus."

Kon nods. "Match, you get the right leg!"

Mitchell is slightly slow off the mark, but as Kon zooms forward into the air he takes off after him.

Richard nods. "The giant who regained his full strength whenever he touched the earth. So they lift him and what?"

Robert rises into the air, though that's more to get a better angle than because he plans on getting closer. He gestures with his right hand and the air flows, giving him a corridor of clear air to the fomorian's face. Three glowing balls of light fly out of his left hand a moment later, shooting towards the fomorian's face and flying circles around it.

And I reach out, feeling where the malevolent black is constraining its natural desire flows. I can push against that, but unless I want to cause permanent damage to Brannan's mental networks I can't destroy them by myself.

"Miss Martian, please make him relive emotive parts of his own history."

"I don't know if-." Her eyes glow. "Okay, he's distracted, I can do it."

With Robert preventing him from focusing and M'gann triggering-. Yes, I see. Strengthen that link, nothing there, nothing there… That one, that impulse-. Back off a little because I don't want the orange light to overwhelm everything else.

"You are ensorcelled, Brannan!"

A bellow of air tears through the dust cloud, dispersing it and sand-blasting our position. Richard turns his head aside to spit out a mouthful of dirt.

"Stand down, or-!"

I see the moment that Graham Marrack notices that Brannan is rising into the air and not actively resisting any longer, then the slight change in his profile as he turns his head to glance at us.

Push here push here push here, and…

"Lady Metis, I ask that you aid this confused man in regaining his reason."

He's off the ground and he's not fighting back, but that doesn't mean much if we can't get the Anti-Life out of him and none of us can-.

Graham Marrack holds up his right arm, grey light forming a mist spear-.

"Captain, that's-."

He throws, the spear boring into Brannan's chest and vanishing inside his carapace! What? Why did he-?

"Oh." Richard sounds.. relieved? Why-? "It's fine, Oh El. It's a spell for destroying magic bound to someone or something. I've seen Zatara use it."

Mitchell pulls away and the leg he was supporting crumbles and falls apart. Kon looks confused as his leg collapses on him. The earth form clearly wasn't a golem or conjured elemental, so where-?

I fly through the air, construct shield projecting me from falling clods of earth and I grab a humanoid form from the centre of the mass and pull him free before turning and flying out. Setting him down next to Richard-.

Richard already has a healing potion out and carefully pours it into the unconscious man's mouth. He looks battered and his wrists in particular are inflamed. Feedback from the earth body? Nothing needs immediate attention-.

"Great Grandson." Graham Marrack floats down towards us, Robert backing up slightly as he approaches. "What are you doing here?"
 
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Do you have a reference saying they don't exist? It's a big world. As I recall, your grounds for stupidity was an animal-handling check for dragonriders. All that proves is that the majority of Elven dragonriders ride bestial dragons; it doesn't even prove the Ulthuan special characters rode dumb beasts. Let alone Wood Elves, Chaos, and whoever else I'm forgetting.
Yes. The original description of Prince Imrik noted that he could rouse the greatest dragons, and gave his mount +1 on the monster reaction table. The greatest dragon in Ulthuan was still an animal, just a slightly more loyal one
Also I'm pretty sure Egrimm van Horstmann's story includes him making deals with his intelligent dragon mount. Which wouldn't pe proof, since he's a two-headed Chaos monstrosity, except I remember he outright says he made a deal with Chaos, meaning he was intelligent before.
Baudros didn't even get the +1.

I'm not saying that they haven't retconned it since, I'm saying that's how it was in 4th and 5th.
 
17th February 2013
14:12 GMT


"…should be here."

Mercury looks around at the surrounding landscape as we step out of the fairy ring, frowning discontentedly.
Oh, joy. They've been led astray already? Or is Mercury just not that good at navigating in Fairyland? :p I mean, this particular one was just born today. So she has an excuse for not being very good... I guess OL got what he paid for.

To be fair, it does remind me a lot more of the landforms of Sussex, with chalky hillsides and short-cropped grass. I can see herds of sheep grazing, guarded by dogs and simply-dressed shepherds. It's not Cornwall, though…. It might be how Cornwall was a few thousand years ago when the nature of this place would have been defined? I can't see Mr. Marrack Very Senior, or any overt sign of his magic.

"Why isn't he here?"
Certainly, the land would have evolved over time. In which case I'd have half-expected a wilderness. Perhaps a blasted heath or looming forest...

Mitchell looks over to the closest shepherd, who has glanced up at us with no real expression of concern. "I could go ask someone?"

Robert shakes his head. "This isn't the biggest afterlife, but… They don't-. There's no infrastructure. No newspapers or cameras. Great Granddad could be anywhere and they wouldn't know about it, even if they've heard of him, which they might not have done."
And that's really a reflection of ancient cultures. Where anything more than a couple of day's travel from home may as well have been on the moon as far as most were concerned.

Richard steps in front of the frustratedly-pacing Mercury.

"What do you mean, 'he should be here'?"
I'm guessing she's working from echoes in Rob's metaphysique, the psychic scent of his ancestor.

"Here!" She points at the ground. "Everything says this is where he was. He should-"

The hillside opposite us disappears. Instead I see a.. wall of rock and earth, small tufts of grass growing in patches, as if the earth had just shot upwards-. It's moving-?
Oh, that's not good. Some sort of earth elemental?

I raise a construct barrier at the same moment as Mitchell fires heat vision and M'gann fires a telekinetic wave, a giant rock… Limb? Slamming into our position! My shield is knocked back slightly, then M'gann's eyes glow brighter and shoves the arm away training molten magma from where Mitchell hit it!

And that gives us a slightly better view of-.
Man, life around here must be fraught with risk, given a Hero fighting a Monster could break out and rearrange the landscape at any time.

"Is that a f-?"

"Yeah, mate."
Ah, the style of physical features as seen in the Discworld Trolls. Since they were more like ambulatory geology as much as living beings.

There's a face, not so much carved from rock as rock just sort of broke in a vaguely face-like shape. Now that my brain has adjusted for scale I can see the shape of its humanoid body, and-. It's not paying us attention-.

"Yield, Brannan."
Sometimes it can be hard to see the shape of things when you're dangerously close to them.

A grey fist of granite erupts from the ground and punches the fomorian in the ankle, soil spraying away and staggering it.

"I have no desire to kill you-"
Ah. That'll be Captain Cornwall the elder.

'Brannan' sights something and brings his hands around in a slap, clouds of dirt erupting from the point of impact!

"-but your rampage ends here!"
...I hope he's tough enough to withstand what is basically a landslide.

Two hands fall to the ground, Brannan staggering a step back and staring at his wrist stumps.

"Hey, that's Great Granddad!"
Okay, definitely tough enough. No doubt in a mystical realm like this, Thaumovores like the Cornwalls are immensely strong.

Kon assesses the state of the fomorian. "Does he need help? Or the giant?"

M'gann lowers her right hand, eyes still glowing. Then she winces, the glow cutting out. "Anti-Life. He's been exposed to it. Somehow." She shakes her head, grimacing. "It's.. controlling him."
Well, shit. Guess that confirms that this place can be affected by it, at least.

"Cornwall, do you know any mind-effect spells?"

"Couple? Not good ones."
I doubt there's any sort of mind-control-breaking ones in his arsenal.

I know the spells he means. They're variants on the ones used to confuse travellers in swamps and lead them off course. Usually they wouldn't do much in combat, but they should do what we need here.

Brannan shoves his wrist stumps down, boring into the ground before pulling them out-. With new hands on the ends. He waves them upwards, soil exploding and filling the air!
Ah, damn, regeneration via excavation.

"Kon, he's doing a Antaeus."

Kon nods. "Match, you get the right leg!"
Antaeus, for the record. A godling
of sorts who was invincible while touching his 'mother', the Earth.

Mitchell is slightly slow off the mark, but as Kon zooms forward into the air he takes off after him.

Richard nods. "The giant who regained his full strength whenever he touched the earth. So they lift him and what?"
Well, Hercules beat him by lifting and... Squeezing by way of bear hug. Hopefully they won't need to go that lethal here.

Robert rises into the air, though that's more to get a better angle than because he plans on getting closer. He gestures with his right hand and the air flows, giving him a corridor of clear air to the fomorian's face. Three glowing balls of light fly out of his left hand a moment later, shooting towards the fomorian's face and flying circles around it.

And I reach out, feeling where the malevolent black is constraining its natural desire flows. I can push against that, but unless I want to cause permanent damage to Brannan's mental networks I can't destroy them by myself.
Heh. Will-o'-the-wisps. Naturally a spell for misdirection would take that form.

"Miss Martian, please make him relive emotive parts of his own history."

"I don't know if-." Her eyes glow. "Okay, he's distracted, I can do it."
I can't imagine she's looking forwards to touching a mind infected by Anti-Life a second time today.

With Robert preventing him from focusing and M'gann triggering-. Yes, I see. Strengthen that link, nothing there, nothing there… That one, that impulse-. Back off a little because I don't want the orange light to overwhelm everything else.

"You are ensorcelled, Brannan!"
Clever, OL. Peeling away one hook at a time, slowly unravelling the torn bits and pushing them back into place. Letting his mind heal them on its own.

A bellow of air tears through the dust cloud, dispersing it and sand-blasting our position. Richard turns his head aside to spit out a mouthful of dirt.

"Stand down, or-!"
hopefully that doesn't count as 'consuming local food' for the purposes of binding him to this realm... :p

I see the moment that Graham Marrack notices that Brannan is rising into the air and not actively resisting any longer, then the slight change in his profile as he turns his head to glance at us.

Push here push here push here, and…
Don't take it personally, old man. They don't have time to play games.

"Lady Metis, I ask that you aid this confused man in regaining his reason."

He's off the ground and he's not fighting back, but that doesn't mean much if we can't get the Anti-Life out of him and none of us can-.
Especially if it's particularly aggressive once it's out. It might well take a pseudo-physical form in here.

Graham Marrack holds up his right arm, grey light forming a mist spear-.

"Captain, that's-."
...I hope he knows what he's doing, because this looks rather...

He throws, the spear boring into Brannan's chest and vanishing inside his carapace! What? Why did he-?

"Oh." Richard sounds.. relieved? Why-? "It's fine, Oh El. It's a spell for destroying magic bound to someone or something. I've seen Zatara use it."
Well, good to know now. Mister Marrack could have said something sooner.

Mitchell pulls away and the leg he was supporting crumbles and falls apart. Kon looks confused as his leg collapses on him. The earth form clearly wasn't a golem or conjured elemental, so where-?

I fly through the air, construct shield projecting me from falling clods of earth and I grab a humanoid form from the centre of the mass and pull him free before turning and flying out. Setting him down next to Richard-.
So, something akin to a giant protoplasmic sheathe. Kind of like the old Malibu character, Prime. Except his shell was made of the local landscape.

Richard already has a healing potion out and carefully pours it into the unconscious man's mouth. He looks battered and his wrists in particular are inflamed. Feedback from the earth body? Nothing needs immediate attention-.

"Great Grandson." Graham Marrack floats down towards us, Robert backing up slightly as he approaches. "What are you doing here?"
Oh, this should be amusing. First time they're technically met in the flesh, so to speak, rather than in spirit.

All right, then. Contact made. I expect there'll be an explanation for the giant stone-man thing, but really, all OL needs is whether or not they can contact Erebus from here. One step closer to their original objective... ;) Unless Graham knows someone suitable to command the Yellow Ring around here. That would be a good time-saver, assuming they don't get hit by otherworldly time-displacement issues.
 
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Oh, joy. They've been led astray already? Or is Mercury just not that good at navigating in Fairyland? :p I mean, this particular one was just born today. So she has an excuse for not being very good... I guess OL got what he paid for

I mean, it is a land of old school fae.

It's bound to be weird.

Fairy: Ha! Good luck trying to get out of this landscape! It is so confounding that even I don't know how to get out of it!

Well, good to know now. Mister Marrack could have said something sooner

In combat you may sometimes not be able to say what you want because you're in a rush.
 
Giant stone creature makes me ponder what Markovia and how the royal family is doing. How many metahumans are having their metagene trigger from the stress of the current event? I'd assume the Sheeda invasion could have caused some as well, but can't find a line for it.

Fairy: Ha! Good luck trying to get out of this landscape! It is so confounding that even I don't know how to get out of it!
Time to ditch the concrete walls of Belle Reve and start borrowing from the Norwegians, building a fairyland Bastøy Prison! A prison dimension for a better, more reform focused prison system after the current social order comes crumbling down. :V
 
Thank you, corrected.
So fomorians are just normal-sized people who make giant magic armour?
No, they're a little larger and have a number of subtle differences. And it isn't really armour so much as an more elemental body.
So, something akin to a giant protoplasmic sheathe. Kind of like the old Malibu character, Prime. Except his shell was made of the local landscape.
Yes. Weirdly, I've actually read some of those.
 
"What is this?"

"A cocoa tree. Native to Lustria."
If Paolo is going going to introduce chocolate to the World of Warhammer, would this make him the "Candy Man" to Paul's "Cake Guy"?

If THIS is what firmly cements his legend in the minds of mortalkind, not the Greenskin purge, not setting off the Beastmen conversion to Taal, not the expanded Waystone network, not enabling the big baby boom of the Elves, not the other hundred-thousand different things he's done in ensuring the prosperity of the whole world, but the invention of CHOCOLATE, I look forward to his ongoing irritation and everyone else's amusement.

And God help him if it turns out Chocolate is essentially what Ginger is to The Race from the Worldwar series. Aranei will be even more clingy than usual.... the other reformed Druchii and Teclis included, possibly.
 
Wait Time (part 9)
17th February 2013
14:16 GMT


Robert looks his great grandfather over. He isn't wearing the uniform which he wore in life. Rather, he's dressed more like a druid, and one whose magic wasn't quite up to keeping all of the airborne dirt off the material. The stern patrician glare is everything his shade promised it would be, and only softens a tiny degree when he realises why his great grandson is hesitating to respond.

"I am uninjured." He looks over to the recumbent Brannan. "And Brannan will live. Good. Now answer my question."

Robert briefly looks at me, and I give him a shallow nod. He returns his attention to his great grandfather.

"We're trying to get to Erebos. Only Themyscira disappeared, so we can't get in that way."

"When I said that our line comes here, boy, I did not merely mean that the Christian Heaven is barred to us."

"No, no, I know. But we need to talk to Melinoë, because we need someone who's good at manipulating fear so we can give them a yellow power ring so we can get rid of the Anti-Life."

"And this 'yellow power ring' is in some way fear-related."

I nod. "The strength of the constructs is based on the user's command of fear. As you can understand, few heroes could function as wielders."

"Do you mean that they must engender fear, or understand it on a philosophical level?"

"Ideally, both. My first choice bearer was a man who made criminals afraid of him in order to suppress crime in a lawless city. Unfortunately, he's no longer an option."

"There are many fearsome men in Otherworld, though I doubt that they would suit your purpose. As for passage to Erebos, there are places I could take you where… Robert and I could open a gateway. Unfortunately, I cannot afford the time away from Cernunnos's keep to perform either function."

"What's the problem? I noticed that Brannan was infected by the Anti-Life."

"And he is not alone. Otherworld is invaded by the living and those they have turned with their sorcery. The remedy is obvious."

I nod. "We stop the invasion, you send us on our way."

He nods.

"Great Grandfather, I was wondering. Are any..? Are there any more of us here?"

"Yes. Our entire family, going back to the first of our line. Fifteen centuries worth of wizards of Cornwall, all spread about to deal with those bound to this… Anti-Life. What is it?"

"Supposedly, it's proof that life is inherently meaningless, self-defeating and self-destructive. The infected are prone to obedience and joyful fatalism."

"It afflicts fools and wastrels, then."

"It takes a rare wisdom to simply ignore it." Behind me, Richard makes a quiet choking sound. Jealous, probably. "But you can assume that it also weakens the resolve of the afflicted, like we confused Brannan's mind to aid in removing it."

"I will be certain to add such spells to my order of battle." With a slight gust of wind he rises back into the air. "With me, and bring Brannan with you. His family will want to know that he is well."

I nod. "Robin, are you-?" He taps his kinetic belt and flies after Mr. Marrack. "Good thinking. Mercury?"

She sticks her head… Out of my shadow. "Fine! I'll come out when you get there."

She ducks back down, my shadow rippling as she does so. I can't feel anything, but I can't help but feel a little disturbed. And from the look on M'gann's face, she feels the same way. I shrug, and we take off after Mr. Marrack with Brannan supported by a stretcher construct.

Brannan's collapse dumped tonnes of soil all over the place, but the shepherds and sheep managed to get out of the area before they risked getting entombed. But the stone-paved road is buried under a pile of dirt that will take a long time to move by hand, so I form a shovel construct and dump it on to the verge. If this was Erebos I'd leave it like that because the shades would have eternity to shovel it, but since in Otherworld they only have a normal lifespan I should probably… I use a series of crane grab bucket constructs to roughly fill in the holes the fight causes before heading after my team.

"…first actually like?"

Robert looks enthusiastic to be learning about his ancestors directly. His great grandfather on the other hand seems even less enthusiastic than normal.

"He died young, and like all of the oldest of us has spent more time here than alive. He knows little of modernity, and his magic is such that he is hardly human any longer. He serves our line more as an oracle than a magician."

"And… Grand-."

"My son is here, yes. There is a library on an island to the west of here. He is there if you wish to pay your respects."

"And your dad?"

"Boy, which part of 'all' did you not understand?"

"I haven't-. We're not a big family, and then there's all these people here who are. Granddad and Dad didn't take this seriously, so-."

Mr. Marrack's face relaxes a little. "You see our continuity as something to be proud of; a worthy history of service."

"Something bigger than myself, yeah. It's like I'm where I'm meant to be, you know?"

"I do. Indeed, I do."

And he sounds less displeased than normal when he says it.

"Ah, Captain Cornwall?"

Richard hesitates as we pass over a slightly more densely populated area. But only slightly. There are plenty of homes but not all that many people to live in them. Since Otherworld is a stop-off before reincarnation and since very few people subscribe to Celtic beliefs in the world of the living there probably aren't that many returnees any longer. Honestly, I'm not all that clear where the people they have are coming from. Wicca is probably close enough to the original Celtic practices to send people here, but that's… About it, really. All the old Celtic areas are happily Christian now.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Is that the right thing to call you? I mean, would it get confusing if your whole family calls themselves that."

"No, I was the first man in our line to call myself that. My son does not use the title and my grandson is still alive. My own father answers to 'Sir Samuel', though I doubt that you'll have cause to use it."

Richard nods, then pointedly looks down. "Where is everyone? On Earth, the Anti-Life broadcasters can just-."

"They have not been abducted. Not in numbers, at least. Few souls come to Otherworld, and fewer still stay."

"And you do? I thought people just lived in Otherworld until they died and then got reincarnated."

"Usually, that is the case. But our magic binds us here. I may travel to another realm of the dead, with effort. But spending more than brief moments in the land of the living is beyond me, and I shall never be reborn there."

Richard nods, while Captain Cornwall returns his gaze to the horizon.

"Now, look there: Cernunnos's hall. Our destination."
 
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"Supposedly, it's proof that life is inherently meaningless, self-defeating and self-destructive. This infected are prone to obedience and joyful fatalism."

"It afflicts fools and wastrels, then."
I hope he doesn't underestimate the Anti-Life for long, because thinking it only affects the weak willed is just asking for an infection.

Richard looks enthusiastic to be learning about his ancestors directly. His great grandfather on the other hand seems even less enthusiastic than normal.
That should say 'Robert'.
 
17th February 2013
14:16 GMT


Robert looks his great grandfather over. He isn't wearing the uniform which he wore in life. Rather, he's dressed more like a druid, and one who's magic wasn't quite up to keeping all of the airborne dirt off the material. The stern patrician glare is everything his shade promised it would be, and only softens a tiny degree when he realises why his great grandson is hesitating to respond.

"I am uninjured." He looks over to the recumbent Brannan. "And Brannan will live. Good. Now answer my question."
Heh. Stern fellow, but aren't all Grandfathers when their descendant has apparently been up to no good? I guess the robes are more practical than a set of tights like Graham might have worn in his heroing days. And allow for some measure of armour beneath them.

Robert briefly looks at me, and I give him a shallow nod. He returns his attention to his great grandfather.

"We're trying to get to Erebos. Only Themyscira disappeared, so we can't get in that way."
Since OL is more or less the commander of this mission, after all. So it's up to him if they can discuss it...

"When I said that our line comes here, boy, I did not merely mean that the Christian Heaven is barred to us."

"No, no, I know. But we need to talk to Melinoë, because we need someone who's good at manipulating fear so we can give them a yellow power ring so we can get rid of the Anti-Life."
No doubt Graham is well-read enough to know who Melinoë is. Wonder what he thinks of the fact his young lad is hob-nobbing with Olympians.

"And this 'yellow power ring' is in some way fear-related."

I nod. "The strength of the constructs is based on the user's command of fear. As you can understand, few heroes could function as wielders."
Since fearlessness tends to be something of a requirement, especially amongst the Celtish tales.

"Do you mean that they must engender fear, or understand it on a philosophical level?"

"Ideally, both. My first choice bearer was a man who made criminals afraid of him in order to suppress crime in a lawless city. Unfortunately, he's no longer an option."
And any choice they can think of is just... No.

"There are many fearsome men in Otherworld, though I doubt that they would suit your purpose. As for passage to Erebos, there are places I could take you where… Robert and I could open a gateway. Unfortunately, I cannot afford the time away from Cernunnos's keep do perform either function."

"What's the problem? I noticed that Brannan was infected by the Anti-Life."
Heh, It took him a second to remember Rob's name, eh? Been a busy time, I guess. And working for or with Cernunnos, the Horned god? I suppose he's the closest thing to an ultimate authority in this realm

"And he is not alone. Otherworld is invaded by the living and those they have turned with their sorcery. The remedy is obvious."

I nod. "We stop the invasion, you send us on our way."
No doubt whatever gateway they're using to force their way in is going to be heavily guarded... Joy.

He nods.

"Great Grandfather, I was wondering. Are any..? Are there any more of us here?"
Feeling uncertain about your final destination, Rob?

"Yes. Our entire family, going back to the first of our line. Fifteen centuries worth of wizards of Cornwall, all spread about to deal with those bound to this… Anti-Life. What is it?"

"Supposedly, it's proof that life is inherently meaningless, self-defeating and self-destructive. This infected are prone to obedience and joyful fatalism."
That's a lot of folks. An average of four a century, maybe more depending on mortality rates...

"It afflicts fools and wastrels, then."

"It takes a rare wisdom to simply ignore it." Behind me, Richard makes a quiet choking sound. Jealous, probably. "But you can assume that it also weakens the resolve of the afflicted, like we confused Brannan's mind to aid in removing it."
Ah, OL. Blind to the gentle mocking of your teammates. :p

"I will be certain to add such spells to my order of battle." With a slight gust of wind he rises back into the air. "With me, and bring Brannan with you. His family will want to know that he is well."

I nod. "Robin, are you-?" He taps his kinetic belt and flies after Mr. Marrack. "Good thinking. Mercury?"
Surprised he hasn't been using it more. Trying not to rely on it, I suppose.

She sticks her head… Out of my shadow. "Fine! I'll come out when you get there."

She ducks back down, my shadow rippling as she does so. I can't feel anything, but I can't help but feel a little disturbed. And from the look on M'gann's face, she feels the same way. I shrug, and we take off after Mr. Marrack with Brannan supported by a stretcher construct.
...Which just raises questions about how it works when he's not directly connected to his shadow, say, by flying. :confused: That's magick for you.

Brannan's collapse dumped tonnes of soil all over the place, but the shepherds and sheep managed to get out of the area before they risked getting entombed. But the stone-paved road is buried under a pile of dirt that will take a long time to move by hand, so I form a shovel construct and dump it on to the verge. If this was Erebos I'd leave it like that because the shades would have eternity to shovel it, but since in Otherworld they only have a normal lifespan I should probably… I use a series of crane grab bucket constructs to roughly fill in the holes the fight causes before heading after my team.
How civic-minded of you, OL. :p

"…first actually like?"

Richard looks enthusiastic to be learning about his ancestors directly. His great grandfather on the other hand seems even less enthusiastic than normal.
I bet many of them will just look at him like he's a foolish child playing dress-up. Given the super-suit and all. Such is the prerogative of the old.

"He died young, and like all of the oldest of us has spent more time here than alive. He knows little of modernity, and his magic is such that he is hardly human any longer. He serves our line more as a oracle than a magician."

"And… Grand-."
I'm guessing there's a few layers of interpretation needed, given he probably doesn't speak anything resembling modern Welsh or English.

"My son is here, yes. There is a library on an island to the west of here. He is there if you wish to pay your respects."

"And your dad?"
Grandpa might be one Rob's interested in visiting. Did he even ever meet the man while alive?

"Boy, which part of 'all' did you not understand?"

"I haven't-. We're not a big family, and then there's all these people here who are. Granddad and Dad didn't take this seriously, so-."
Knowing your family line goes back fifteen centuries or more is one thing, but actually getting to meet all of those ancestors is quite another.

Mr. Marrack's face relaxes a little. "You see our continuity as something to be proud of; a worthy history of service."

"Something bigger than myself, yeah. It's like I'm where I'm meant to be, you know?"
More into it than his father or grandfather, I see. We already knew that, of course.

"I do. Indeed, I do."

And he sounds less displeased than normal when he says it.

"Ah, Captain Cornwall?"
No doubt the old man's proud of him for upholding the family duty and taking it more seriously than his predecessors.

Richard hesitates as we pass over a slightly more densely populated area. But only slightly. There are plenty of homes but not all that many people to live in them. Since Otherworld is a stop-off before reincarnation and since very few people subscribe to Celtic beliefs in the world of the living there probably aren't that many returnees any longer. Honestly, I'm not all that clear where the people they have are coming from. Wicca is probably close enough to the original Celtic practices to send people here, but that's… About it, really. All the old Celtic areas are happily Christian now.
Don't be surprised if old ties still bind some families. They might make a stopover here before moving on to the Silver City, maybe.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Is that the right thing to call you? I mean, would it get confusing if your whole family calls themselves that."
Admittedly, before the super-hero era, it's only be appropriate to use that title if they held that military rank, commanded a ship, or both.

"No, I was the first man in our line to call myself that. My son does not use the title and my grandson is still alive. My own father answers to 'Sir Samuel', though I doubt that you'll have cause to use it."

Richard nods, then pointedly looks down. "Where is everyone? On Earth, the Anti-Life broadcasters can just-."
The drawback of it being a waypoint. Not much in the way of long-term occupancy.

"They have not been abducted. Not in numbers, at least. Few souls come to Otherworld, and fewer still stay."

"And you do? I thought people just lived in Otherworld until they died and then got reincarnated."
Heh. Asking the questions OL was just wondering about. Fortuitous.

"Usually, that is the case. But our magic binds us here. I may travel to another realm of the dead, with effort. But spending more than brief moments in the land of the living is beyond me, and I shall never be reborn there."

Richard nods, while Captain Cornwall returns his gaze to the horizon.

"Now, look there: Cernunnos's hall. Our destination."
I suppose there's a certain comfort in knowing what will happen to you when you pass on. Especially an afterlife that comes with the option of full-time work.

I suppose the elder Marrack has seen some shit in his time, both in the living world and the next. Given the way he just rolled with all this. And it looks like the chain of subquests rolls on, with the need to protect Otherworld from a Justifier incursion. At least it's less likely that there'll be a Finality interrupt on this side of the dimensional barrier. :cool: Hopefully...
 
Cernunnos, that's an odd piece of human history… Across many cultures there are creatures of legends who pop up separately. Giants, brownies, sea horrors, creatures associated with death or undeath… and Cernunnos. Horned men, typically ram horns, but sometimes elk antlers. Worshipped sporadically and associated with natural spaces like groves.

This Cernunnos would be associated with the faiths of Otherworld. A god? Maybe. Tainted by Anti-Life? Perhaps, but more like a city leader than a slave. Annoyed at Paul? Probably not.
 
from Cernunnos's keep do perform

"keep to"

. Honestly, I'm not all that clear where the people they have are coming from. Wicca is probably close enough to the original Celtic practices to send people here, but that's… About it, really. All the old Celtic areas are happily Christian now

I remember a scene in the American Gods TV show where a Muslim woman dies and Anubis comes for her soul.

She asks him why he's there when she doesn't worship him and he replies that the stories about him and his family greatly inspired her and were dear to her, so she falls under his purview.

The religion that they practice may not necessarily mean that they'll go to that religions afterlife.

When Paul died and went to Heaven an angel there told him that they sometimes get pagans coming there because while they worship gods that are not the Abrahamic one, their faith may not be that big and they'd be influenced to a significant degree by Abrahamic beliefs, so they go to the Abrahamic afterlife.

The people in places like Ireland, Wales, Scotland and Britain may be majority Christian, but if they keep the old stories close to their hearts then that could influence a lot of their actions.

Even if they just view them as entertainment, that could still have a big impact on their development as people.

A lot of people can be influenced by characters and events from fiction books, TV and movies, so the same may apply here.
 
No doubt Graham is well-read enough to know who Melinoë is. Wonder what he thinks of the fact his young lad is hob-nobbing with Olympians

Hed probably tell him to watch his back.

Especially around Zeus.

And working for or with Cernunnos, the Horned god? I suppose he's the closest thing to an ultimate authority in this realm

Yeah, Celtic myth is really iffy on who's in charge and it tendeed to change a lot.

There was Bres, then Nuada, the Lugh and Dagda etc.

Ah, OL. Blind to the gentle mocking of your teammates.

Or indignation.

Remember that Robin was hit with AL and Graham saying that it only affects fools and wastrels would be incredibly insulting.

Imagine getting traumatized by something horrible happening to you and someone calling you weak for being traumatized.

I bet many of them will just look at him like he's a foolish child playing dress-up. Given the super-suit and all. Such is the prerogative of the old

Or they may just think that the clothing just changed for their little order.

They already know about Graham and his son, so they may not care anymore about them choosing such clothing

I'm guessing there's a few layers of interpretation needed, given he probably doesn't speak anything resembling modern Welsh or English

They could use translation spells.

Or he may have learned the language.
 

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