• The Lost Sea: Lovecraftian Naval RP - Thread 2
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Fallensteller would've gasped were it still in her refexes to do so. The Emperor's cousin? Is she serious? Instead, her face was frozen in shock. "You... You aren't lying right now? That's impossible... So many regarded this expedition as a suicide mission. I only convinced the crown to grant me access because I told them how great a glory would come to Teutonia should the Zuflucht come to port with it's top deck covered in foreign refugees! ...And you're telling me that the Ungrians sent the heir to their throne!?" Fallensteller could tell that von Strauss hadn't used her magic to sell the story. Sabine would need to confirm it by confonting Váradi, or von Pracht if his commanding officer was to be believed, about it directly. If this turns out to be true, Fallensteller thought, then I have wasted a good deal of time not getting to know him. Perhaps Jäger isn't the most worthwhile pursuit of mine, haw, haw, haw!
"You... You aren't lying right now? That's impossible... So many regarded this expedition as a suicide mission. I only convinced the crown to grant me access because I told them how great a glory would come to Teutonia should the Zuflucht come to port with it's top deck covered in foreign refugees! ...And you're telling me that the Ungrians sent the heir to their throne!?" "Actually, the Kaiser himself did. He recommended him to Krantz because out of anyone he could have sent, Váradi would somehow find a way to return. He's a rather tenacious man, like the Kaiser himself. If you can gain influence over him and motivate him to actually claim his lineage outright, he could very easily take control of the Eisenstrasse AWAY from Krantz. He would become the new captain, and the crew would follow his orders." said Von Strauss, with a chuckle. That'd certainly cause some chaos amongst the fleet.
Ephraim blinked blankly as Kyndreth seriously explained that she had gotten married to the Captain. "...ehm, congratulations, Captain?" he looked at Krantz, shrugging awkwardly, before she asked about necromancers. Realizing she was talking about Gawain, he stepped in. "Oh, no, no, we don't have any necromancers aboard. Gawain here was resurrected at the last place we were at, and we ended up capturing him after a battle. The two of us started talking, and now he's here with us, out of his own time," he commented as he put his arm around Gawain, "but we're all here to help him!"
Vunor took a moment to think before responding once more. "Very well then. The Cardinal it is then." Vunor got up to leave, but he quickly turned to Mannfred again. "I've had something in the back of my mind for some time and I just have to ask. That night at Dagger Rock, I couldn't help but notice that after the other 'visitor' appeared, you seemed... different. Am I correct to assume that you are not as you seem to be?"
"Very well," Fallensteller said, still shaken. "I suppose I'll need to arrange for a meeting, next time I see him. I suppose we'll be meeting with the fleet tomorrow morning to decide the fate of those errant officers at the port who caused all those civilian casualties... That would be a good time, provided the Admiral doesn't decide to try anything regarding me and my ship. Now, as for your mask: the Messenger has given me a plan to betray the Admiral, and it would cause catastrophic damage to the Nadeshi capital in the process. If you're looking for chaos, look no further. However, I do worry that enacting such a plan would place the fragment at risk. I also have more new recruits like Mesahri here, batfolk who can fly to and fro. If I can find a volunteer or two, perhaps they can assist with the recovery of that item before the rest of the plan is put in motion, due to their swiftness in flight over the city. I'll need to investigate before I can make any further promises," Fallensteller concluded as she stood up from the table. "Stay in touch; new developments are always occurring here," she added, and just then, there was a knock at the door. "Come in!" the Captain ordered. A messenger opened the door. "Ma'am, your presence is requested in the infirmary. Dr. Keseberg is concerned about a string of similar injuries and believes something might be amiss." Fallensteller paused for a moment. "Oh..! Uhm, right then. Luna, it's been a pleasure of course, but I do need to get going." She shook the First Officer's hand. "One of our riflemen will escort you back to your boat."
"The captains of the fleet are always a busy bunch." said Von Strauss, smiling as she shook Fallensteller's hand. "You should take some time to relax and enjoy the natural flow of the world once in a while. Its refreshing." She slipped her shades back on as she stood. "Oh, by the way. I should let you know. Krantz seems to have acquired a demonic bodyguard. You'll likely see her tomorrow at the trial." she mentioned, before walking towards the door. "Tah-tah for now, Sabine! Give my regards to your engineer, wherever she is!" she said, as she disappeared out the door. ----- "What he says is true. We encountered a sorcerer a few days ago at Blackstone Keep, on an island not too far from here. He used waves of skeletons against us as well as mindless demons and other abyssal powers. When the sorcerer was slain, Gawain survived. Now he is part of my crew. There's also another skeleton on the Admiral's ship, but he seems to keep to himself." explained Krantz, looking to Kyndreth. It was still strange to know (and hear) that he was now technically wed to a demon. The admiral said it wasn't like a traditional human wedding, but still. Who knew what it really meant to a demon? She was bound to him eternally until his death. Or hers. Whichever came first. "Well, I'll let you three get back to whatever you were doing. Nice work last night during the fire. Its a shame we couldn't save everyone." said Krantz, before looking to Kyndreth and motioning to follow. As he stepped away from the trio, he spoke to Kyndreth. "So...do you have any questions about anything? I'm more than happy to answer any and all you may have." he said, glancing to her.
The demon flipped through the books quietly with his psychic hold on them, continuing their shuffle and rearrangement to their original position all throughout the conversation. It was slowing in pace though, whether that could be him growing more or less focused on the tomes themselves was anyone's guess. There were hardly any works in the collection that related to the planes or sorcery, not even vague whispers of rituals, so all of the information he was gathering was surface-level information on this world and its inhabitants. It would certainly prove useful to some capacity, he figured, as his last observations of the waking world were a little... outdated. "Archiving, research, study." he lists. "They all seem to be mundane or even useless in the eyes of certain individuals. Yet chronicling and storing knowledge has enough benefits to entice beings like us into making the effort. Though I am far from a writer, I'd say. Well, I can write, yes but... hrm... Never mind that." He pauses and thinks on the mention of keeping the crew of the ship sane, shooting the librarian a neutral look before returning to his own studying. "Sanity... An interesting concept I've pondered on in the past. Has she managed to secure a method to preserve it? Is it something that even can be preserved? Hmm... Truthfully I think there is a fine line between insanity and enlightenment, for those we believe to be mad certainly would know a good deal more about their own... cosmic insignificance to be put in that state, yes? Perhaps there is wisdom to be had in realizing their own futility, which has them at a step above most I'd say, hrm..."
Veranhal, Blitzwave Yarah remained stoic as Jager approached her, glaring at her up close. His sudden grin and affectionate caress of her cheek broke her expression as she stared at him with surprise. Was he playing with her? Or did he truly believe this? For him to call her his right hand was astonishing to say the least. Not to mention, the madman still truly thought he could lurk close to the wildfire that was Fallensteller and not get burned. "...what." She took a second to collect herself, still eying Jager a bit strangely. "Demons don't really smite, unless you just mean kill. Because a greater demon can easily kill everyone around here." A little bit of her earlier smugness was building back up. "He'll totally kill you if you mess with that woman. And he'll probably kill her too, and her ship for good measure. Demon kings are the epitome of power," she said, licking her lips, "that no mortal could ever possibly hope to achieve. Especially not the undead." When she said that she seemed to choke on nothing, until she quickly added, "U-unless they're like a lich or something, they can be pretty strong too. But not as strong as a demon king, of course." "And can't you just... rescind that last order..." she asked as she rubbed her throat. Cattapoli, Revenant The admiral held Vunor's gaze. "That is a curious question, shaman. I can't say that I know what you mean. I harbor many secrets, certainly, and I have a... condition of a sort, if that is what you are alluding to." The shaman suspects, too? He wasn't sure if he regretted his actions at the dungeon, or if he should be relieved. It was a burden released not to have to rely on a web of lies for ones own identity, but when that identity alone could cause problems... it spiraled into a tricky situation. It was potentially dangerous, too. Having Krantz within the know was a great boon, but how much could he count on that man when Von Strauss was such a wild card? She likely suspected something as well. Cattapoli, Eissenstrasse "I... see. No necromancers," Kyndreth said with a slow nod. This was turning into a very interesting learning session. Had the humans always been this odd? A living skeleton would have been beaten to dust, or at the very least, run out of town had one dared to show itself. And there was not one, but two, within this armada of water and air ships. The demon gave a short bow to Ephraim and his colleagues as Krantz beckoned for her to follow, which she did without hesitation. "I suppose I have many questions," she said somewhat nervously. "Everything seems so very different since I last walked this plane. I have spent considerable time in the Abyss since then, but I don't recall all these different... creations and customs being around last time. These metal ships, this flying ship, the skeleton, the animal people. There is magic around, yet no sorcerers. Everyone is dressed funny. I haven't been able to distinguish noble from commoner, everyone is so clean and similar looking. Your weapons are... curious, to say the least. This vessel has so many siege weapons all over the place. Small ones and big ones. I can't imagine what fortresses you must destroy with such weapons." Kyndreth just shook her head. "I'm just a little confused."
Jäger continued to stare deeply into Yarah's eyes. He looked very skeptical and suspicious. "Did you just try to lie to me Yarah? You seem to forget that I ask for your advice out of courtesy, you should do well to remember the contract which binds you to me. For now."
"Dammit, dammit, damn it all!" Fallensteller cursed as she hurriedly crossed the ship toward the hospital. Mesahri followed along reluctantly, wondering how the Captain hadn't expected this to happen, after what had occurred with Lieutenant Weber. However, it turned out that Dr. Keseberg's opinion wasn't the one she was most concerned with. "I forgot the Reverend was down there! He's going to raise a real fuss if this morning was any indication." "What happened this morning?" Mesahri asked. Fallensteller rolled her eyes. "The man locked himself inside the chapel and accused me of devilry over a dream he had last night. He even suspected me of building a cult." "Oh, right... I heard about the nightmare people were having." She didn't feel the need to point out that Pfeiffer's suspicions were dead-on. "So what are you gonna tell them?" Fallensteller grunted indifferently. "I have no idea. I'll make something up when I get there... Or perhaps the Lord will speak for me." Mesahri got a chill, thinking about how the Captain surprised her moments earlier with that so-called "gift." She shook her head. "Try not to scare them as bad as you did me. I don't think it would help your case." "Normally it's more seamless than that. He even spoke to von Strauss through me, the first time we met together, and no one was any the wiser. But the Lord doesn't need to hide Himself from His servants." "Okay..." Mesahri replied, not yet comfortable with being addressed in such a way. A moment later, they came up to the doors of the hospital and quickly entered. Fallensteller looked to the Reverend's cot and, to her enormous relief, found him sleeping soundly. Quietly, she crossed the room to Dr. Keseberg's table and the surrounding cots which were occupied by six pale-looking men and women, all with shoddily-bandaged deep cuts on their arms and all of them avoiding the Captain's gaze like the plague. Dr. Keseberg himself stood up from between two of them and waved the Captain over, and as she approached she noticed a nurse providing stitching to another. "Captain," he said with visible frustration, "Lieutenant Pawlitzky came by here a moment ago and told me these officers were all injured in an accident, but he's lying." "I know he is, Doctor," Fallensteller replied coolly. "The Lieutenant came to me preemptively because he expects to be punished..." "Well, is he?" The doctor asked, strangely. Fallensteller cocked her head a bit. "Captain," Keseberg urged, "is it true? Is this ship falling to Raum?" "...Yes," Fallensteller was compelled to say, her eyes wide with the shock of saying something so dangerous. "This is only the beginning..." she continued automatically." Keseberg broke into a crooked grin. "Almighty... I thought I was all alone, until I heard the rumors, and about your eyes. Ever since you had those samples sent my way, after Blackstone, I've just felt this... compulsion. I stopped with the bloody cross on my head each night and I've had incredible visions of my potential. Imagine- me, at my age, feeling like a young doctoral student again, out to revolutionize medicine. And I feel like I'm on the verge of some great breakthrough, every time I look on those abyssal fluids and tissues, but the things I've wanted to do... I was terrified what might happen if I tried..." "You're one of us?" Fallensteller asked, but it was mainly a rhetorical question. "You weren't on the Reverend's list-" "There's a list?" Keseberg gawked. "No, no... The last thing I wanted to do after having these impulses is march myself into the chapel and tell the Reverend about it. I thought he would condemn me, or worse, send me to you. Well, now I see that if he had sent me, it would have just gotten us in touch quicker. This is fantastic!" he raved. "I want to please Him, Captain. I want to carry out His will, because I know that His inspiration will lead me to greatness like nothing else." Fallensteller began to laugh rather wickedly under her breath. Master, you spoil me, she thought. "In that case, I'll summon Mr. Pawlitzky; he's in possession of a holy blade, the same one used to cut these few, but also many more. This lot is just a collection of those who were... reluctant, to say the least. A deep slice like theirs isn't remotely necessary. Just a trickle will suffice for now, a sacrifice for the Lord that grants him a portion of your soul." "Nonsense," Keseberg replied. "I have blades of all sorts in my work station, and as long as I serve Him, each and every one of them will be a holy blade. Besides," he added wryly, "using the same blade on everyone is a recipe for infection, Captain." Sabine considered it, and realized that the Messenger's knife was not really all that different from other blades, now that it had been drained of its magic. The doctor was right, any blade could be a holy blade, so long as it was wielded by a truly loyal servant. "Ah, I agree, Doctor. I'm sure the Lord will accept whatever offering you deign to give. I should ask, before I go, whether it's any coincidence that the Reverend is sleeping right now." Keseberg gave a sly chuckle. "That's clever." "Well, I am a doctor. But before you go, I'd like to ask your permission for a bit of an experiment. I've yet to find a proper use for some of the samples we recovered, and they can't last forever. But I have a suspicion that ingestion, or some other delivery method might produce results worth taking note of. And lucky me, I now have half a dozen young heretics on my hands who all need blood transfusions." "Start with Mr. Weber," Fallensteller replied. "If it doesn't kill him, continue the experiment onto the others." "Yes, ma'am. Any reason for that?" Fallensteller gave a contemptuous look at Weber. "He's the only one here who wasn't on the list." "Ah," Keseberg simply said. "Come on, Mesahri, I won't keep you much longer. And Doctor- good luck." --- A short while later, Fallensteller and Mesahri arrived at the Captain's quarters. Entering the locked room, Mesahri immediately noticed the smell wax and blood in the air, and stood highly uncomfortable in the center of the room while Fallensteller proceeded to open the wooden box and retrieve the batfolk skull Captain Tobey had given her. "This will only take a moment," Fallensteller said as she approached. "I want you to take this skull. Supposedly, it holds some sort of magical property... Look deep into its eyes and tell me if you feel anything." Mesahri's hands were trembling with uncertainty as she lifted the skull to roughly her own height, looking eye-to-eye with the macabre item in front of the old cracked mirror.
Vunor held his gaze, but inside he wasn't entirely convinced. What sort of condition? And why go to such lengths to hide it? he wondered to himself. "As long as this 'condition' of yours does not intrude on our goals, then it is not an issue. You helped us fight the cultists and save Fawnstar, that alone is worthy of trust." --- Dobbs had spent some time in his quarters alone and silent, the only sound permeating the space being him tapping his fingers on his desk, which still had cracks in it from the earlier outburst during the expedition. He anxiously was awaiting for any sort of summoning from the admiral, and indeed he had a lot to explain. In his mind, he had been formulating responses as apologies, or explanations, or extended rants. None seemed to be of any good and the inevitable summoning was bound to happen. Perhaps I should bring Ackermann and Lonstray along? To build a case to present to the admiral? Perhaps its too late and the admiral has lost his trust in me... Bollocks. I mucked it all up didn't I? He opened a drawer in his desk, taking out his one spiritual comfort that he had always turned to in the darkest of times. The pendant's blue gem glinted in the lighting of the room as he stared at it, its lifeless form hanging from his hand. "Oh holy one, what must I do?" he whispered to it. He took a deep breath and went into his own mind, his fortress from the outside world, his retreat from reality. Usually the answer came to himself in the form of reading the holy scripture, or perhaps through silent pondering and reflection. TRUTH. Dobbs immediately fell out of his chair and scrambled backwards, wildly looking around his room. He then stared at the pendant with wild and open eyes, observing it. A nervous breath took hold of him as the feeling of uncertainty and doubt creeped over him. Is the sea driving me mad...? Am I hearing voices? He slowly got up but continued to keep his sight on the pendant, unsure of what to do. Perhaps it's just the work of a stressed mind...? My imagination running wild? It felt real, certainly, but perhaps it wasn't. He quickly walked over and tossed the pendant into the drawer, slamming it shut afterwards. A bead of sweat had formed on his brow and fell to the ground next to him. A knock on the door made him nearly jump as he quickly turned to face it. "Bloody hell..." He opened the door to see an ensign standing there, saluting. "Sir. We have recieved word from the Revenant, the Admiral has summoned you." Dobbs could only weakly nod in response as he stared at the lad. "Are you alright sir?" he asked. "I'm, er... fine. Yes. Quite fine. Summon Ackermann and Lonstray, inform them that they are to accompany me." Dobbs replied. Later- Dobbs, Ackermann and Lonstray embarked onto the Revenant from the skiff, along with a marine helping Ackermann along gently. He himself could not help but feel a mix of anxiety and a small dash of fear form in his stomach as the three of them walked aboard the vessel. He still did not know what exactly to say to the Admiral when he would be brought face to face with him, but hopefully he could formulate an apology of some sort. "Please inform the Admiral that we have arrived." --- Nita paced around Felis' impatiently, waiting for Isidora and company, and Kitta, to appear at anytime. Come on, where are they...?
"I'm just a little confused." Krantz chuckled. "Yes, its understandable. Things were drastically different when you were around compared to how they are now. I'll try my best and explain everything. Hopefully I can get you caught up to speed." As they walked through the ship at a slower pace, Krantz begain to explain everything and answer the questions that Kyndreth had. How the nations of the world had advanced out of the dark ages and into a more modern, civilized society. How ships have gone from being wood, sails, and nails to steel, steam/oil, and rivets. How weapons have gone from the basic sword and bow to high powered rifles and cannons. "There are castles and such still around, though those are easily assaulted and taken now with modern weaponry. I assume that you've never heard of a firearm or gun?" he said, drawing out his sidearm and showing it to her. "Basically, think of it like a crossbow. It shoots a small object called a bullet great distances to kill enemies. It can even pierce armor, should the armor be thin enough. There's also automatic firearms, which shoot bullets at a rapid pace. I'll show you those later, as the enemy we'll be facing a few days from now also has firearms. I'll also have to show you how to use a gasmask. It helps you survive in an environment which is full of chemical gas, which can be deadly to humans and possibly harmful to you." he explained, before holstering the weapon. "Because firearms have grown popular, most tend not to use swords anymore. They carry daggers, or blunt weapons. Most soldiers also carry something called a bayonet, which is a dagger that you fit onto the end of one of the longer firearms. It turns the weapon into sort of a makeshift spear. Anyway...there's virtually no magic used aboard our vessel. Or supposedly any other vessel in the fleet besides the Admiral's. The old world, where I come from outside of the Lost Sea, has no knowledge of it beyond myths, superstition, and various books written on the subject. The first time I encountered magic myself was when Raum's Messenger appearing to us when we stopped at Campo Diablo at the edge of the Lost Sea. So magic is fairly new to me...as is the idea of these beastfolk. There's nothing like them back home. Humans are humans, animals are animals." Finally, he looked back to Kyndreth. "I hope that at least helps a bit." he said with a smile. ----------------- Von Strauss was eventually lead back to her rowboat, where her guard was waiting quietly. Smoking a cigarette. "Time to head back to the Eisenstrasse." she said simply, passing the guard and climbing back into the rowboat. He thumped his cigarette into the bay, before following quietly after. The trip back to the airship was just as quiet as it had been before. Once they were beneath, they were lifted back up into the ship. Tonight, she'd be expecting to speak to Veritas again. Hopefully he could shed more light on a few things. When she was talking to Fallensteller, she had told her that Veritas was spared by Raum. And he was apparently, as all Raum did was shatter his mask. Why didn't he kill him? Why just trap him in an adorable doll form? Did Raum actually care about Veritas enough to spare him? In truth, it wouldn't change how she felt about things. She would complete her mission for Veritas happily, and continue to serve him long after. She was just...curious. Another thing she was curious about was what was Veritas's view of the war. Of all these gods being slain around him. What was Veritas' story?
As Nita paced about, in the distance, she could see a group of people approaching her, and as they got closer, she realized who they were. For the destitute group, they didn't have much they needed to settle prior to leaving aside from sobering up a tad. Most carried their belongings with them at all times, except when entering public spaces, as things such as daggers likely wouldn't be socially acceptable to carry within them. All but Thaddaios said their goodbyes to their fellow vagabonds, with most cheering the Agios' departure due to his reputation, one which he now seeked to rid himself of on board the airship. So, at most, after sobering up, they just grabbed whatever few personal possessions they had and met up, before heading towards Felis'. The Umae triplet of Ceres, Didacus and Alma carried with them an assortment of smaller blades which they've used to protect themselves with over the course of their lives. The two Hera, Nikon and Zotikos, had with themselves a sickle for the former, and a pick for the latter. Isidora wielded a long pole with a relatively worn wick at its end, and Eligius carried a shovel and a hammer. And Thaddaios was the only one out of them to carry an actual weapon, a spear in the style of those used by the guards. Isidora taunted him for bringing out that thing. Thaddaios, along with Eligius, also had slightly more belonging compared to the rest, having some additional leather protection in case they need it. Hiding their personal armaments, the group approached Felis' and Isidora could see the bovine pacing about, waving at her. Nita could tell that Thaddaios seemed less enthused than the others, but otherwise serious looking, whilst Alma looked as though she regretted everything. Ceres and Didacus were very serious looking, Nikon and Zotikos seemed excited, and Eligius just seemed to be at peace.
Veranhal, Blitzwave "I didn't lie, it was a-" Yarah couldn't get out another word as she choked again. Her eyes watered up as she took in a deep breath, glaring back at Jager as she rubbed her throat with one hand. "Words are so finicky! I suffer because I don't say something exactly right. What does it even matter? I'm telling you what is important." "And damn your courtesy, I know very well whats best," she sneered, surprisingly not choking this time. Was this what she truly believed, or was this the truth? It was easy to think the former with her attitude. "Contracts always come to an end eventually, and despite all the dull awfulness and insanity someone like me has to put up with, I come out on top. Only the nicest and kindest people are spared my wrath," she said, turning up her head and crossing her arms. Her eyes started to water again and she looked like she was holding her breath. "Just free me now," Yarah said, her voice going hoarse, "and I promise you'll be fine-" She fell back into another hacking coughing fit, sucking in deep gasping breaths as if she had just been drowning. Her left hand clawed at the circular black tattoo around her neck, and the force of the clawing was causing her to scratch herself with her nails. Her pale skin flared with irritation, and some of the deeper scratches bled. "F-fuckkk thisss," she wheezed angrily. Cattapoli, Eissenstrasse Kyndreth wearily shook her head after Krantz had gone through a lengthy explanation over some technology, history, and customs that had developed since the time of the war. She knew a lot had changed - she never thought otherwise - but to finally hear such answers put it all into a greater perspective. Back at the monastery, she thought she knew so much. There had been several periods of hibernation, and years of performing quests, but most of her time had been spent at the monastery. It was always work and learning there. Now she felt like she knew so little, like she was a child again. "I suppose the most remarkable thing you've mentioned is this Old World. A land without magic, but superstition? How very strange. Though I think I understand. Without sorcery, you had to build all of this," she waved her hand around to encompass everything, "to make up for it." "But you also mention a messenger of Raum. How long have you been on this, ah, expedition? How could you have met a messenger of the dread god which now lays in peace? This confuses me the most." Cattapoli, Revenant Mannfred's face maintained its usual stoic guise, though Vunor's accusation that his condition could possibly intrude on his goals irked him somewhat. He wasn't particularly prideful, though since his near break-out of his human form, he had been feeling somewhat more unstable. The shaman's presumptuous remark that Mannfred would be the one to intrude on his own expedition displeased him. "I don't expect it will," he replied dryly. "Now if you will excuse me, I do have another meeting to attend. It was a pleasure speaking with you, as always. My sailor here will escort you back out the way you came." The male sailor nodded to Vunor as Mannfred stood up and exchanged typical goodbye pleasantries with the bovine, and the admiral left the small lounge while the sailor gestured for Vunor to follow him out. --- Dobbs, Ackermann, and Lonstray were directed to the main meeting room of the dreadnought - the spacious chamber which bore a large wooden table in the center of the room, surrounded by chairs. A flag of Brunswick was pinned neatly on one wall off to the side, while chalkboards dominated the main walls. Schedules, calendars, informatives, and other posters plastered the walls as they always had. The three men were sat at one end of the long table together. A young ensign arrived shortly after they sat down with a tray of tea and biscuits. The kettle was still hot and steaming, and four ceramic mugs had been provided. A little basket was full of equally warm biscuits which had all been cut open and buttered, with a drizzle of honey. It was a trademark light meal and snack from Brunswick. After several minutes, no longer than ten, the admiral finally arrived. He was accompanied by Elisa Murdoch, his second in command and the captain of the dreadnought. Two more sailors followed, but they waited in the back near the wall. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," Mannfred said as he took his seat. He placed his cap on the table and looked the three men over, though his gaze mostly rested on Dobbs. "Today has been rather an eventful one. I did not expect the suddenness of your accusations at my briefing, vice admiral, which somewhat... pushed our schedule back. I'm not upset, mind you, but its a rather unnecessary surprise I think." Captain Murdoch poured herself some tea and helped herself to a biscuit while the admiral did not. "Allow me to say that I do believe you both. I've already suspected Captain Fallensteller to have been tainted, and I certainly would not put torture past her if it suited her. The supposed murder of the officer... Pletcher, was it?, is of course a matter of some concern as well. However, I would have greatly appreciated some forewarning before such accusations were put forth... especially if the case is partly constructed on officer Kahleen's apparent spiritual communications. The failure of the accusations to stick have now stirred the pot, so to speak." Veranhal, Zuflucht Mr. Weber was in a poor state. The forced bloodletting had taken not just a physical toll on him, but a psychological one as well. His body was weakened and sluggish, while his mind was nearing a state of shock. He wasn't in any position to fight back or struggle against Keseberg, though that didn't stop the doctor from ensuring the man was properly fastened down before the experiment. After all, even if Weber in his current state couldn't do anything... there was no telling what could happen from the experiment. It was entirely likely the man would simply die. A blood transfusion which was mixed with demonic samples of blood and tissue had never been done before. Ethically and morally, such experimentation was highly against the oath of any doctor's position back in the Old World. Even many of the asylum doctors managed to if not hide, justify at the very least, their methods behind legal frameworks. Chemical testing, prototype instrumentation for surgeries, electric stimulation, lobotomies, medicine testing - regardless of how cruel it seemed, what went on behind locked asylum doors was always justified as being for the greater good of humanity. Providing tainted blood transfusions to men who weren't infirm, psychotic, or death row prisoners per se would raise many questions in the Old World. Especially in an involuntary case as this.And yet, this was for the betterment of humanity. This was an act sanctioned by the lord, Raum. What reason was there to hold back? The first transfusion was two-thirds regular human blood that was of an appropriate type for Weber to receive. The remaining portion was a fluid mixture of demonic blood and emulsified tissue. It had already been observed that the blood of these particular demons was more viscous than a human's, and also a very dark shade of red which was borderline brown-black. Some testing revealed the blood to be rather acidic, and some various samples - paper, wooden stir rods, water, and sugar - caused minor reactions that weren't seen with human blood. The blood bag was set up and an IV was administered in mere moments. The darker than usual transfusion worked its way through the tube and began to mix into Weber's veins. Eyes split between Weber and a pocket watch, the first sign of any reaction occurred after almost exactly three minutes. Weber began to twitch slightly in his restraints. It wasn't immediately noticeable as twitching as it could have easily been him trying to move his restrained limbs, but after a few more seconds, the twitching became more spastic. His fingers curled and he opened and closed them as he groaned slightly. He looked feverish as his body was coated in sweat and had a clammy pallor. Weber's eyes opened slowly, revealing them to be bloodshot and his pupils severely dilated. The temperature in the room then began to drop quickly in a matter of seconds, marring some surfaces with frost. The lights flickered momentarily and some nearby metallic instruments tumbled off trays as if they had been blown off, and they all traveled to the same spot in the room to form a little pile. It was like a magnet had attracted them. Something began to seem... very wrong. Weber was staring up at the ceiling, but there was subtle movement in his eyes that showed that he was watching something. His eyes were somewhat glassy, but there was enough energy behind them that showed he was still conscious of his actions. "Yes," he said in a hiss, his voice sounding very dry. He repeated it again after a few more seconds, and the a third time. His eyes continued to track something, and then he closed them. The hair covering his forehead was gently brushed almost lovingly aside by some unseen force. Suddenly, and with incredible violence, his neck snapped to the side without warning. The crunch was remarkably loud as his spine was undoubtedly severed completely. His body went limp in the restraints in an instant. Keseberg could only watch in utter fascination at this as his subject apparently died, and he was stunned into silence from these events. Just when he thought the experiment had ended... Weber's eyes opened again. They were white without any pupil or iris. Weber began to laugh hysterically. --- Mesahri held the bat skull uncomfortably in her hands, staring into it's blank eyes as Fallensteller had demanded. Simply holding it was repulsive enough. It made her uneasy and a little queasy, too. Handling the dead was a sacred matter for the batfolk, and to so casually hold the skull of one long deceased without the purpose of moving the grave or other benevolent action was to break an embedded custom. Caught up mostly in her own feelings, Mesahri didn't realize at first that the skull seemed to be... drawing her in. The eyes seemed to be growing wider and she couldn't look away or set it aside. She wanted to shout out and flee, her instincts telling her to run, but she was utterly restricted in movement and speech. She simply stared into the eyes with a slack, somewhat fearful face. There was remarkable hatred within the skull. She had never felt such intense, raw anger and hatred. The emotion swelled up within her as her arms started to tremble slightly. It was as if the skull - a spirit - was feeding this into her. This rage which was building within her had no target or source, it simply came into existence. Flashes of a disheveled bat appeared in her mind, laying broken by the edge of a roiling volcanic cauldron. The images had come so fast that she didn't know if they were real or imagined, but the skull was holding her gaze completely. The sound of drumming was loud in her ears as her pulse skyrocketed. All she could feel was hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.
"But you also mention a messenger of Raum. How long have you been on this, ah, expedition? How could you have met a messenger of the dread god which now lays in peace? This confuses me the most." "We've been on this expedition for a week or two at the most. Raum is apparently slowly regaining his strength, and is set to return to the world so he can basically finish the job he started before. His messenger appeared at Campo Diablo, and attempted to convince some of us into joining him and serving Raum. He was sent back to the Abyss by the Admiral and Vice Admiral, but not without having a heavy influence on one of the captains in the fleet. Sabine Fallensteller. She's the captain of the fleet's repair vessel, the Zuflucht. This morning, she revealed to the rest of us that her eyes are now blood red. So its very likely that she now serves Raum, and will attempt to convince others to do the same." explained Krantz, as they continued to walk. "The Admiral brought us on this journey so that we can finish Raum off for good. Apparently the admiral himself is also a demon like you, named Calcifer, but we should keep that a secret and simply refer to him as Admiral Mannfred. He is allied with Shalo and Faryyn, who is still alive but trapped in the form of a skull. There are two other gods that we know of that are still alive as well. Veritas, as I've mentioned before, and Margaretta. Margaretta is aboard another ship in the fleet known as the Problem Child."
Jäger grunted. "What's with your sudden urge to lie, hm? Are you that eager to rush into Calcifer's arms?" --- Lars shrugged. "Dr. Wahlbäck has a gooe relation with all of the crew. She has earned the respect and trust of everyone and because of that the crew maintain a bond stronger than most others. We are all always there for eachother, no matter what."
Keseberg stumbled backward, awestruck and terrified by the sudden developments. The other five "bleeders" in the nearby cots could only look on in horror at what had been done to the chief technical officer, and all present wondered whether the evil laughter echoing throughout the lab could possibly belong to the man they knew, or if that man was gone and an entirely unique or new demon had taken his place. Keseberg approached, cautiously, and waited for the laughter to die down enough to ask Weber a few simple questions. "...Can you understand me? ...Do you remember who you are?" --- Mesahri had simply been staring into the skull. Fallensteller, growing impatient, finally spoke up: "So? Do you sense anything?" She was met with silence and increasingly irregular breathing. It had only been a few more seconds, and after one more attempt to gain her trembling officer's attention ("Mesahri, look away!") that she decided to abort the experiment, grabbing onto the skull with one hand and shoving the bat away with her other. As Mesahri stumbled backwards and crashed into the wardrobe, Fallensteller quickly dumped the skull in the wooden box behind her and shut the lid. Fallensteller could see the murderous look in Mesahri's eyes, and reached for her pistol - as she had given the knife to Pawlitzky - but thought better of it, and instead committed to defending herself unarmed in case the bat tried to attack her. "Get a hold of yourself!" Fallensteller warned her.
Dobbs stilled as the Admiral spoke, unsure of how to process this information. He... believes us? He looked over towards Ackermann, observing him as this went on, before turning his attention back to the Admiral. "I should have brought this before you..." he muttered. "I should have informed you beforehand, but I grew zealous in the light of these facts. And for that, I apologize. But if you believe us, then you should know that I believe we need to shut down Fallensteller as soon as possible. Before any more damage is done to others on the Zuflucht, and potentially the rest of the fleet as well." Dobbs interrupted coldly, staring at the admiral. "And if no reasonable action is taken, then we will suffer for it. That is the honest truth." He then leaned back in his seat, shaking his head slightly. "If we fail to act, who knows what will happen next? Before we know it, we will have heretics running amok on many vessels, not just one. And in our meeting earlier, Captain Krantz was accusing you of not even being human!" he chuckled sarcastically. "The way I see it, words are being twisted and manipulated and a line is being drawn in the sand."
"Ah yes, camaraderie does have its benefits, I am told. What one being can achieve is far easier when done with many skilled individuals. You are fortunate to have each other, bonds seem to be the only solace humanity has in the face of unrelenting odds and madness." Therasmus states somewhat flatly. Yet his words were certainly a genuine compliment, the delivery left something to be desires.
Ackermann sat silently aside from acknowledging the Admiral's greeting, and nibbled politely on a biscuit. Although Mannfred revealed that he believed in the former commander's story, and Ackermann was quite grateful for that, Sebastian still felt like every time he took initiative it wound up backfiring in some way. He was perfectly content to allow Dobbs to speak first; it was a relief that he hadn't lost the man's trust either, and that he was so vehement about tackling the Zuflucht question. His reminder of how terribly shrewd Fallensteller was under scrutiny and the way she bent others' perceptions felt almost surreal. "I agree with the Vice Admiral; as long as Rabenschwarz is left to weave webs, the fleet is at risk of losing any sense of truth altogether. By the time I left that courtyard this morning, I wasn't even sure if it had happened at all, or if I was really insane... I don't think so anymore, and neither do you two, but for that brief moment, I was under her spell. She ought to be removed entirely." --- Fallensteller had expected Mesahri to leap at her, given the absolutely feral look of her officer's face and stance, but instead, Mesahri rose slowly, collectedly, and baring her fangs. This was no mindless rage; the bat was considering every way she could inflict pain and suffering on her Captain and wanted to be sure that she got the most out of the kill. "You... horrible, horrible woman," she hissed. "You think you can drag me around like your pet, show me off to your creepy little friends..." The Captain knew that the curse of the skull was awakening some dark feelings within her Officer, but it was of no use to her if it rendered Mesahri impossible to control. "You're a soldier now," Fallensteller countered as she tried to edge toward the door. If she could lure Mesahri into the hall, then she could call for help safely without anyone seeing the interior of her quarters. "I've only given you orders I could've given anyone else on this ship." "Heh heh heh," Mesahri sarcastically laughed, sharply cutting Fallensteller off from the exit. "You had me sell myself to your God like a market whore," she spat, swiping at Fallensteller's face with her claws to punctuate her accusation. "You use your fucking parlor tricks to make me feel like you're leading me somewhere other than the slaughter. I know better- and Yarah told me, too... But I'll get you... I'll get you first." Fallensteller stepped away, rubbing the stinging, bloodless cuts on her cheek where Mesahri struck her. Again, she considered her pistol, but something else nagged at her. As frightening as Mesahri seemed to be, she had pulled her punch by swiping at the cheek when she could have gone for the eyes. As she watched her Officer, Fallensteller concluded that the magic was slowly wearing off. "Get me... how?" Fallensteller replied, drawing on her own wrathful side. "You think you can kill me, girl? You can't kill what's already dead!" For a brief moment, fear flickered in Mesahri's eyes, and she began to back away, cursing Fallensteller and the fleet, but growing quieter and more confused. "Relax... you've had a long day," Fallensteller finally said. "I forgive your error, of course. We're dabbling in the dark arts, here; a loss of sensibility was always a possible outcome." "Y-yes," Mesahri replied, unable to look eye-to-eye at the Captain. "I lost my senses." "You did well," Fallensteller said, pretending not to have taken note of Mesahri's insecurities and her specific mention of Yarah. "I want you to go and rest. We'll have more matters to attend to later."
Cattapoli, Eissenstrasse "This... this is incredible news!" Kyndreth exclaimed, staring at Krantz with wide eyes. "Raum is alive?! For certain? There had always been rumors of his survival or activity, but for him to truly be returning.... Surely this force is part of a much larger army, right? The ships outside are massive, but there are not nearly enough for another war! And I knew that your admiral was Calcifer when I arrived, and I am quite aware of his alliance with Mistress Shalo and Lord Farryn. Though this news of Lord Farryn being trapped within his own skull is rather... upsetting as well." She clasped her hand to her forehead and shook her head. "Incredible. So much is happening. The return of Raum, the wounding of Farryn. Margaretta being here as well is just as remarkable. There hasn't been a gathering of this many gods in one spot since the war! Whose allegiance does this ship sail under, then? Mistress Shalo? What of the others? I have seen so little signs of devotion. And I can't imagine many flocking to the Painter's banner, she isn't one to be seen on the battlefield." Veranhal, Blitzwave Yarah-kei opened her mouth but immediately sputtered again at Jager's remark, falling out of her seat from the kickback of her intentions. It seemed that anything she would have said would have been a considerable enough lie to affect her this badly. The demon clasped her throat with both hands now, face going red as she kicked her feet as she struggled on the ground. While she seemed like the one to throw a tantrum, this looked much more painful. It was starting to look pretty rough. Yarah seemed far too... opinionated... for her own good, even when under a command spell. At least with her enforced silence, there wasn't anything she could say. She simply couldn't bring herself not to lie at this point, though she did say that exaggerations often counted as lies as well. She seemed to get in just enough air to stay conscious, but her labored breathing didn't sound healthy. It was like a wheezing rattle, like air was being sucked in through a tiny hose. Cattapoli, Revenant "Fallensteller is certainly an issue," Mannfred said in a measured tone. "But any action as hasty as your accusations will be just as disastrous, and further entrench her. You saw how the others reacted. How many rallied to your side? Any heavy handedness now would shatter the fleet. I will be clear - our objective is to stop the return of the dark god Raum. If the only way to maintain cohesion in the fleet is to wait for a proper time to deal with Fallensteller, then that is what will have to happen. Her vessel is a non-combatant ship. Its role is an important one, certainly, but the danger it poses alone is very limited. Even if there happen to be some heretics and cultists rallying around her, then that is not something we can easily target without undeniable proof. If it begins to spread to to other vessel, which will be rather easy to notice, then it will be curbed immediately. But as it stands...." The admiral paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "... as it stands, the agents of the dark god remain on one ship. They are enclosed. If they remain within their cage, then we can watch them. Its far harder to start independent heresies elsewhere when they could simply build off of the existing one. Even if the fleet would support the removal of Fallensteller and any following her, then we would not know where the next heretical insurgency would appear. And that one could be much harder to uproot. The most liable to be swayed to her side is Captain Tobey, who is a selfish man that is wooed by power and knowledge. Fortunately, this material desire and lack of faith means he isn't one to be entirely swayed by heretical ideology outside of the possible material gain, I would imagine." "That means we can watch Fallensteller and by extension, Tobey. If Fallensteller was gone, that leaves Tobey as the lone potential culprit for more heresy. However, that does not mean it would be guaranteed he would be the one to fall. It could be a number of others - crewmen, even, which would be even harder to detect. A dangerous animal in the light is far easier to observe than one in the dark." "We are experienced in these sort of matters," Murdoch spoke up neutrally. "We have precautions in place, as well as sorcery to assist us. If Captain Fallensteller is a spider weaving webs, Commander Ackermann, then we are the hand with the swatter nearby. If the spider leaves its nest, it will be taken care of." Veranhal, Zuflucht Having lost much of her earlier steam, Mesahri was being to rapidly cool back down. The anger and hatred still burned, but it no longer boiled. Fallensteller was the natural outlet for it. The woman had forced her to give herself to a god she didn't even worship. The batfolk honored ancestors and their spirits, not petty deities. Least of all foreign deities. Fallensteller was treating her more like a pet to play with than anything else. Still, she wasn't one to lose her calm or become so enthralled with anger. At the moment she was really just feeling more frustrated as all the hate evaporated off of her. Within this frustration was a layer of confusion which surrounded the images which had appeared to her. They had to have been real. Why had she seen a bat laying beside the edge of a volcano? What could it have even meant? She was well versed on her people's folklore, but there was little that had any connection to a bat and a volcano like that. --- Keseberg approached the bound Weber very cautiously, careful not to get too close despite the man being well restrained. The figure - unclear if it was Weber or even human anymore - leered up at the doctor with its blank milky white eyes. The laughter had gone away, but a cruel sneering grin remained. "Of course I understand you, you sniveling little fool. Your pathetic mind would break at the beauty of my own language. I am forced to speak in this disgusting tongue." Its voice was clearly that of Weber's, though it was also clear that it wasn't quite him anymore. He had either changed drastically, or something else had replaced him. Blood streamed from its nose and mouth after its neck had snapped by itself. The neck contorted and moved in a sickening manner as his head turned or looked around. "The wretched soul you know as Weber has ascended to paradise. I heard his pleas, his despair and hatred. A soul locked in the clutches of suffering which I have not seen in a long time," it said, cackling again. "I have taken his place on this plane to eradicate the wicked and feed." The creature lifted its left arm as high as it could, just a couple inches off the bed before the restraint around the wrist kept it from going any further. Its head lolled to the side and examined its arm briefly before it jerked it with considerable force upwards. Naturally speaking, the human elbow didn't - shouldn't - bend backwards. But this creature broke its arm like it was simply cracking the knuckles on its hand. The skin deformed as the bone within snapped, and it started to tug at the arm restraint. The dislocation of the bone and tendons allowed it to start to work its hand through the circular wrist restraint, unopposed to any pain. The leather scratched deeply against the skin as its left hand was being forced through the restraint.
"Incredible. So much is happening. The return of Raum, the wounding of Farryn. Margaretta being here as well is just as remarkable. There hasn't been a gathering of this many gods in one spot since the war! Whose allegiance does this ship sail under, then? Mistress Shalo? What of the others? I have seen so little signs of devotion. And I can't imagine many flocking to the Painter's banner, she isn't one to be seen on the battlefield." Really nice to know that only us mortals are the ones being left in the dark. "Whose allegiance does this ship sail under? We've sworn no allegiances to anyone beyond our home nations. At least this ship hasn't. I can't say the same for the others, my first officer Von Strauss, or Fallensteller and her ilk." he said, pausing for a moment. "And I'm not swearing my allegiance to some god I just met, nor am I swearing my allegiance to the skull of a god I've known for two weeks or the demon that has kept us all in the dark regarding who he really is. You may have known who Calcifer was before you came here, but none of us in the fleet did. He's been hiding that bit of information, and passing himself off as Admiral Viktor Mannfred of a nation known as Brunswick." Krantz eventually sighed. "I'm following his orders because I want to stop Raum before he can return to his former self. Before he turns his attention to the Old World, and turns my homeland and the other nations to ash. No, this group is not part of some larger army...this is all of the expedition. Mannfred didn't tell us we were coming to kill a dark god. He didn't really tell us anything until we got to Campo Diablo."
Jäger rushed to Yarah's aid and kneeled down beside her. He shook his head. "Stupid woman." As he grabbed her by her shoulders Jäger hoisted her up in a seated position leaning against his chest. "Yarah, breathe. Deep breaths. Listen to my voice." Jäger lowered his head so that it was next to Yarah's. "You don't have to lie. I'm not a madman. I hear your words and I take them to heart. I want you to be a companion, not a slave."
Having listened to the creature in Weber's body speak only for a moment, Keseberg easily concluded that his experiment had achieved the opposite effect of what he intended, both in killing the test subject as well as bringing about some sort of vengeful spirit. He turned to one of the nurses cowering in the corner of the room, who hadn't even been aware that an experiment was taking place. "Get to the radio room and have them locate the Captain!" he demanded. "Go!" As the young woman scrambled out of the room, there was a stirring in another cot. The Reverend, somewhere along the course of events, had awoken to panic unfolding around him. He let out a painful, rattling cough, but nonetheless sat up in his cot, took up his cane and glasses, and, in an almost dreamlike state, rose from his bed and shuffled calmly across the room to where Keseberg stood confronting the creature. The doctor looked over his shoulder, and without consideration for the long-term consequences of the Reverend witnessing the atrocity he had committed, warned him to get back for his own safety. "Doctor," Pfeiffer simply replied, almost resigned, "you've done quite enough, left to your own devices." He glanced around at the other cots, and felt agony in his heart as he recognized their faces as the men and women he placed on Fallensteller's list. He had been tricked into becoming an accomplice to heresy. He then looked to the creature inhabiting and gradually destroying Weber's body. "And you- you've come to slay the wicked, hm?" The old man let out a terrible wheeze. "And who would that be, from your perspective?" --- Fallensteller watched as Mesahri walked away toward the deeper bowls of the ship, where accommodations had been provided for the batfolk. There, they could hang from the ceiling and sleep if they wanted to, or enjoy a meal in nearly total darkness. With nothing currently occupying her attention, she decided to investigate the Necrolan, to see if she could restore some of her liveliness and avert the gradually worsening numbness of undeath. Just after she had retrieved the book, however, there was a pounding on her door. "Captain!" a courier yelled. "Something arcane has happened in the sickbay! Dr. Keseberg is calling for you immediately!" Fallensteller tried to hide her enthusiasm, but inside she soundly believed that the experiment had been a great success. She hurried along, but as she opened the door, it began to dawn on her from the courier's demeanor that something dangerous was present inside the hospital wing. As they reached the entrance a few minutes later, she quickly pulled her pistol out of its holster and loaded it with the silver bullets she and her officers had confiscated from Ackermann just days before. With the book hidden inside her coat and wielding her pistol in her dominant hand, she entered the room just as the Reverend finished asking his question. --- Mesahri entered the darkened section of the engineering deck and spread her wings, easily flying to the exposed piping on the ceiling, where she extended her legs to catch herself before hanging and wrapping herself up comfortably within her own grip. Her hat slipped off her head and fluttered harmlessly to the ground. "[Rough morning?]" Bitara, another bat, asked from deeper in the room, invisible to all aside from those gifted with vision in the dark. Mesahri nodded, miserably. "[I just want to take a nap,]" she said. "[Fair enough,]" Bitara replied. "[But tell me why, when you wake up. I still don't know if I want to stay.]" "[Why did you come to begin with? Oh, never mind... It's about Lunaire, right?]" Bitara hummed in the affirmative. "[I just couldn't leave her with Chiri, not out here.]" Mesahri was quiet for a while. She wanted to tell Bitara to grab Lunaire and the other bats and just fly away, back to the shore, even if they'd have to arrange a boat to take them back to Veranhal. This was not a safe place, especially not for a child. But something seemed to hold her tongue, and keep her from speaking at all. Perhaps it was just mental exhaustion. Finally, a few words escaped her, "[we should talk later,]" she said mysteriously. "[I can't explain it right now.]" "[Hmph. Fine then,]" Bitara replied. Mesahri slowly drifted off into a late-afternoon nap.
Cattapoli, Eissenstrasse "You mean this small assembly is non-aligned? And you plan to fight the murder god Raum? Extraordinary!" Kyndreth said with some awe, though it also sounded more than a little bemused. "Mortals have always been drawn to their gods. It was rare to find many who didn't align with a god or goddess. Even demons, or angels, had followers. Of course, there were many kings who demanded allegiance to their crown over that of their patron gods, but the gods have always been an omnipresence even at the edges of the world." That seemed to still hold true for the Old World, as deprived as it was of real miracles and living deities. Many intellectuals that loitered about the academies and salons subscribed to atheistic tenants, or other more philosophically entwined beliefs, but religion had always been around in overwhelming numbers. "And I would not say that I know the Calcifer very well at all, I have never spoken to him, but I had seen him a number of times at Shalo's court when he lived there or visited. Its only natural for the weaker to serve their betters, don't you think? What does it matter if he hides information so long as he is against Raum? Servitude is the natural state for the living, be they human or demon." Veranhal, Blitzwave Jager cradled Yarah compassionately as she labored to breathe, the spell of command having punished her greatly for her tendency to lie. She continued to clutch at her throat for several seconds until he spoke again. Telling her to breath and listen to him helped ease the burden as it was something for her to focus on. It could have also been interpreted as a command, which meant her throat would have loosened up regardless. "T-then take it back," she gasped, "that command, take it back." Veranhal, Zuflucht The creature which had once been Weber continued to contort violently in its restraints. It broke its limbs without hesitation to try and free itself, turning what had been a normal human body into one without the rigidness of living bone and muscle. Without proper internal support, it began to look more like a puppet or doll trying to free itself. Even the circus contortionists at the carnivals in the Old World couldn't bend themselves like this. It managed to free its left hand as the Reverend moved about near its cot. There was no control in its fingers or the entirety of its arm, so the limb flapped about uselessly as it tugged at the other restraint. Once the old man had spoken to it, it paused and barred its teeth in a snarl. "The abomination of the living are the most wicked creatures to walk the planes!" It screeched, blood and saliva staining its chin. "The living are impure, ruinous beasts! It is they who barred the gates to the heavens! It is they who caused the misery! It is they who ruined salvation!" An incoherent shriek of rage - or madness - punctuated its words as it started to thrash more violently against the remaining restraints. Its talk of heaven and salvation sounded somewhat angelic in topic, but a creature like this didn't seem like it could be an angel. Were they not the opposite of demons? This entity seemed far more demonic than anything they had seen - even against actual demons like Yarah, and even Calcifer. "Your disgusting kind and your heathen artificial gods deserve tenfold the misery we have endured!"
Jäger sighed. He considered the situation for a moment before nodding. "Speak freely."
"And what if Fallensteller attempts to sabotage the mission on the Nadeshi in some way? What then?" Dobbs asked. "As I stated before, it is a massive risk to have her on this mission. And how do we know that von Strauss woman isn't in league with Fallensteller already? From what I've seen at the meeting, she probably already is. Perhaps she too is a Raum heretic hiding behind those shades of hers." --- Nita spotted the group approaching from the distance and waved exctitedly towards them, almost ecstatically jumping up and down as she did so. Though perhaps some of them didn't share her excitement, she herself did radiate it. As they finally arrived at Felis' House of Wine once more, Nita greeted them. "Hi! Hi, hi, hi! We'll just wait for my friend to arrive, which should be soon... I hope." she said as she looked around for Kitta.
"...Its only natural for the weaker to serve their betters, don't you think? What does it matter if he hides information so long as he is against Raum? Servitude is the natural state for the living, be they human or demon." Enslavement isn't natural. It is forced. Voluntary servitude isn't natural either, because its a choice you make to serve someone else. Krantz shook his head at her statement. "We choose what we wish to do in the old world. Its uncommon to be forced into servitude, and it is usually frowned upon, unless you're in one of the nations that still allows slavery. Those that own slaves in said countries are often wealthy, and treat their slaves rather poorly. To willingly serve someone or something is usually viewed as honorable to most." "As for the gods, I was raised as a boy to never worry about praying to a god, much less believe in one. The divine never did anything for me or my family, so why should I follow any of them? I assume it was the same for most of the others in my homeland, though there are groups that do pray to various dieties. The people of my nation believe that for anything to change or happen, it had to be by the hands of men and women. We work together to better the nation, as well as one another." "...as for Mannfred, it matters that he hides information because doing so could get some or many of us killed. I value the lives of everyone around me, including you. I've already had men die on this expedition, and I want to make sure that I don't lose more because someone decided to keep important details from me."
Cattapoli, Blitzwave Yarah-kei took in another deep breath and then sighed heavily once Jager rescinded the order not to lie. She looked visibly better already, no longer struggling to breath and her eyes starting to clear up. She had one hand on her chest like a dainty damsel who had just been saved from fainting, though Jager knew very well her attitude couldn't be more different. "About fucking time," she coughed, sitting up out of Jager's arms. "Such needless torture. That ridiculous spell is broken, it hurt me no matter what I said. I don't lie... er, not really, just sometimes maybe I stretch things a little. So not lying, really." She scooted away from Jager and pulled herself up, holding onto her chair for support. "Not like I ever said anything to hurt anyone, you know," she said somewhat indignantly. "I'm probably nicer than half the people on this boat. I'm good enough to be a saint, too, I bet." The succubus still idly rubbed her throat, which was still moderately scratched from earlier. It looked like someone had been choking her rather hard and perhaps would need to be covered up for decency's sake, as well as Jager's reputation. Cattapoli, Revenant "It is unlikely that there is much Fallensteller could do to sabotage this particular mission. The Zuflucht is the supporting unit for attacking the fortress. For her own well-being and that of her crew, she'll have to remain focused on that task. It is also the location which has the least likelihood of having any sorcerous items or artifacts. Likewise, assaulting a beach and fortress - even after bombardment - will be quite taxing. The worst we'll be dealing with are matchlocks and possibly some cannons, so the fighting won't be terribly costly on our end in terms of what is being brought against us, but I can't imagine she'll have much room to do anything regardless." "As for Von Strauss... I have already spoken with her. She is not aligned with Raum, but instead another god. A much lesser one. His name is Veritas, and he is more of a mischievous little imp than anything else. She isn't quite a danger, but someone who needs to be monitored. Krantz has that situation under control." Cattapoli, Felis' House of Wine It wasn't long after the gathering of the destitute vagabonds that Kitta showed up as well. The young Niakoman was, surprisingly, wearing men's clothes. She had on a pair of trousers and a heavy leather doublet. Beneath it was a loose shirt with slashed sleeves. Her hair and ears were pushed back beneath a tight bandanna she wore, making her look a bit like a fortune teller. It looked like she had raided her older brothers apparel, and perhaps she had. Some of the clothing looked a little ill-fitting for her size. Strapped to her back was leather knapsack suitable for travel, and hanging at her hip was a waterskin bag and small sheathed dagger. She eyed the band of hobos and Nita with a slightly exasperated expression. "Alright, well... here I am." Cattapoli, Eissenstrasse Kyndreth looked like she was pondering Krantz's words. Servitude was not only her natural state, but the natural state to her people and society. Many were certainly free, but the concept of that varied widely. Most had one master or another in the Abyss. It didn't matter if it was a small tribe or one of the remaining cities. There was always someone to be obeyed. Hearing Krantz speak about voluntary service and atheistic culture was a distinctly foreign matter to her. "Well... that is quite a different outlook on things. I suppose I understand a little more know. The new human way of doing things sounds much more different than the old way, and the way in the Abyss too. And you say that this system without servitude works? How strange." "And you must know, its natural for demons to keep secrets. From birth we have to keep our real names secret, though a lot of us eventually lose control of our name. Of course, I have no secrets because my life belongs to you. Anything you don't know you could simply ask me. But for many who do not live as I do, they keep their lives shrouded for safety." Cattapoli, Zuflucht Mesahri awoke on a warm, rocky floor. It was unusual to wake up in such a position since most, if not all, slept from a suspended position. Occasionally the sick or wounded would lay themselves on the floor for stability, but she was neither. Likewise, she hadn't lost her grip and fallen, for she certainly would have felt that. It was dark wherever she was, though she could of course see through the gloom easily enough. She was in a cave made of dark, rough rock. There were no signs of habitation anywhere. A few pockets in the rock seemed to be venting heat and foul smelling vapors, so she distanced herself from such locations. The air had a crisp sulfur like smell. Was she... near the volcano she had seen? But how? Little red embers appeared on the ground and swept towards her. It was like a little wind cloud had appeared to carry these burning pieces of ash towards her. They startled to encircle her, flying around her rapidly, before fluttering off a few feet away. The embers continued to rotate in a circular motion. They started to flare up in intensity until they erupted into a burst of flame, sending even more ash and embers bouncing aside near her. From within this burst of flame appeared a bat, taller and larger than her. This man had large sunken eyes and thin wings which didn't look like he could use to fly anymore. White paint outlined the curves and contours of his face, circling his pitch black eyes to make them stand out even more. A scrimshaw bone necklace hung around his neck and lithe body, and his torso was wrapped in a colorful beaded skirt. He looked old, as old as Mama Koli or possibly even older. And yet... there was a strange intensity around him. He somehow projected an appearance of being frail and powerful. He studied her back, but after a moment he slowly raised his hands and showed her his palms. Glowing blue paint covered his open hand and his fingers. She gasped, taking a step back. He was old. An ancestor spirit! But did that mean she was... dead?
"We do have a leader, so I guess there is some form of servitude. The emperor, or Kaiser as we call him, of my homeland is another soldier like me but born to a royal family. He was wounded in a war that happened several years ago, and was forced to assume the throne when his father, the previous emperor, died." explained Krantz. "Beyond that, we are free to do as we wish." "And yes...I understand that demons have to keep secrets. Mannfred explained the importance of a demon's true name to me. Humans also tend to keep plenty of secrets as well. We're a lot alike in several ways." Krantz paused for a moment, thinking. He finally glanced over. "I guess to put us on mutual ground, if you wish to know anything about me, you can simply ask as well. Our secrets stay between us, of course." Finally, they arrived at Krantz's cabin. It had been a rather slow walk to it, as Krantz wished to explain things to Kyndreth along the way. "This is my cabin. I assume that since you're staying as close to me as possible, you'll be sharing the room with me." he said, stepping over and opening the door. As it opened, it revealed a rather refined room compared to the rest of the vessel. Fine wooden furniture, an actual bed instead of a simple military cot, a desk with various documents and trinkets sitting atop it. A skinny bookshelf stood next to the desk, filled with numerous books. A wardrobe sat in the back corner across from the bed, next to a grandfather clock and standing mirror. Rather well furnished for a airship captain. "Make yourself at home. If you need anything like food or drink, I can call for someone to bring it. That door leads to a bathroom, where you can bathe if needed. If you need clothes, I can also request those as well." said Krantz, pointing to a door on the opposite side of the desk from the bookshelf as he talked. "I guess we need to talk sleeping arrangements, too. We can share the bed, if you wish, or I can have a cot brought in for me and you can have the bed." he said, glancing to her before shedding his field cap and leather great coat. He set the hat on the desk, atop the codex that he had recieved from Mannfred days ago, and draped his great coat over the back of the desk's chair. Well, we're married, so I guess it wouldn't be all that strange to share a bed. Even if its with a demon. Its really up to her, though. ---------------- Von Strauss found herself on the lower bridge yet again, taking command of the vessel as Krantz was giving Kyndreth her tour and Váradi was still busy testing her prototype weapon in the armory. It seemed as though she would be here most of the night, as Váradi would be sure to put the weapon through its paces. As for Krantz, he'd likely retire soon so that he'd get a good night's rest before tomorrow's meetings. She honestly pondered if he was going to take her with him again. Likely not, considering how she swayed the opinions of the group earlier. She yawned, before fixing her shades and gazing down at the docks and streets below the airship. Hopefully Veritas would stick around a bit longer tonight. She always enjoyed his company, and he'd need to so that he could tell his story! She could only imagine just how chaotic it must have been back then, during the God War.
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