Iwaku: Banishment

[Asmodeus]

The man's foot became still.

"When one says 'No offense', it is usually to avoid the repercussions of offending. And since you seem ambiguous on the matter I must question why you think it an offense to comment on a man's superior time-keeping. And yet, though you suspect it an offense to keep time you beg forgiveness for intruding upon it, disregarding your own professed desire to negate the troubles of time through idle exposition. And all the while, twisting these five knives, you deem me better suited to merriment when all you have done is made me WORRY all the greater for the verbal capacity of the human race!"

The retort was delivered rapidly, and in a motion as swift as it was surreal, Asmodeus slapped Dahlia on the side of the head with his rolled up scroll.

This drew more than a few stares, and brought a half-second drop in the Cbox volume, before music and chatter resumed again.

The Prince of Gaia adjusted his disguise, consisting of fur longcoat and unkempt hair, then went back to studying the lute-player. He seemed to be nodding along with the music, tapping both his foot and his tankard of ale at odd moments. There was little evidence that he resented Dahlia's company. "Codes, my dear. A purer form of language," his voice wavered with anxiety. "Pattern and syncopation. You would do better to study music than indulge cliche. Perhaps then you would be of use to me."

He opened the scroll quickly, glanced, then rolled it up again. It gave Dahlia only a fleeting glimpse of what was written there.

His tapping grew more insistent... as if trying to break the notes of the lute player, his brow furrowing. Every muscle in Prince Asmodeus's body seemed to be bouncing up and down.

It was sign of the strangest and most excitable fear.

 

[Envy]

The weather had been quite rough lately, at least in comparison to the Coos where he had grown up. Benalish sat in some lofty corner of the tavern where things of late seemed to be quite lively. Word indeed had been spread that the Admin Diana was unfit, as she had misplaced her Ban Hammer. Ordinarily Benalish and the mercenary group that he toured with was not typicaly involved in such a matter. Working with royal guards, in any official capacity was a recipe for trouble. Still, it was a means to get by. A woman by the name of Dhalia and a captain of the guard were talking fairly cozily and Benalish wrinkled his nose as he gazed at them from under a curtain of dark hair. This was to proove an interesting case. One of which would be remembered for some time.

Even curiouser,there appeared to be a group of people staring at him from across the room. Benalish dismissed these people for the moment but stood up from the table he was at and began to walk about the room concentrating on the facts of the case, as stated.

The hammer was stolen from the vault during her corronation. This was done to create a sense of importance for the thief, making a name for himself and to publicize his criminal acts. The thief wished to taunt the Royal guard by leaving a clue, which might suggest that another item of import would be stolen quite soon.
The calling card was a Cess Serpent, but what import does that bode? Certainly this tavern bears a similar mark. I wonder how frequent this sign appears in this wild land?" These things he muttered to himself. Then he exited the tavern and examined the sign outside once more, staring at it intently. Looking around he saw some boxes around the back, and after gathering them he climbed up so as to see the sign up close.
"Hmm, yes." He said. THen he took out a magnifying glass and observed closer. Other than the similarity to the card there was no clue to be had. He rubbed his chin in a thinking way and then hopped down. Re-entering the bar he perceived that a tallish man, Damian, was speaking to the woman with the baby. She did seem a little peculiar. As did the man accosting the lutist. He chose to address the lutist and his mate.
"Pardon me," he said coming up to the two, "would either of you be able to explain where the sign's image comes from. It's very unusual and I should like it reproduced." He then took out a note of money to the sum of 10 pounds.

 

[Timbolonian]

What a sudden shock! Damian was within eyesight of Dahlia but not ear. When the man struck her on the head with is parchment, Damian got extremely curious. Time to do some investigative work. He focused on the tattoo on his left foot of a lizard to release it as he pulled off his boot, pretending to inspect it for a rock or some other discomfort. He was accustomed to doing this so the actions came natural. He reached into the boot and the lizard quickly scampered up his arm in into his right sleeve. Giving his boot a shake he shrugged and pulled it back on allowing the lizard to slyly creep its way out.

Moving across the floor, expertly dodging feet as it made its way towards Dahlia, the little guy climbed up the leg of their table and stayed perfectly still so that Damian could hear the entire conversation. He then grabbed his ale and set back his chair hailing down the nice lady for another one. The lizard settled just in time for him to catch the tail end of the man's sentence. Codes. Great. Damian knew little to nothing of codes. But he could remember patterns if anything he could perform the same pattern for someone in the group and they could solve this out. He watched through the lizards eyes at the man and his fretted bouncing. "This is going to be really difficult," Damian thought as he slammed back the last of his first ale and picked up the second. He leaned forward and concentrated trying to pick out the nuances.

Once he was sure he had it he decided to see if he could find any other clues. He decided to start with the lady in the corner with the bawling babe. He approached, "Poor fella, I don't blame him. The music here is enough to make even a grown man cry." He sat and smiled at her. "How you doing today mam?"

 

[Zen]

The hooded figure stopped in their tracks at the sight of towering Baraeus. Looking over their shoulder, the stranger caught a glimpse of David charging right at the both of them. But instead of surrendering or trying to fight back, this person did an odd thing.

It slammed itself against the side of the stone alleyway. And the wall gave in to reveal a door, a door that spun on its axle. At that moment Zen who had been flying through clotheslines and rooftops landed in the middle of the pathway.

"What the - "

The figure hurriedly brought a finger to their lips, shushing the monk. It gestured with the arm that had the serpent tattoo, except as the arm moved the image slowly disappeared. The stranger pointed to them and then to the door before disappearing inside. Zen straightened, tucking her whip back into her pack. Sure she knew that she was suppose to take the lead in this case but going into a passage way or room with a stranger seemed very dangerous.

"Oh what could happen. There's three of us and only one of them. We'll be fine."

She shrugged, grinned, then strutted inside.



The three of them found themselves in a large chamber, dimly lit with several candles. In the corner was a fire place, cooking some foul smelling, bubbling substance. It was covered with a dancing lid. Zen made a face as her nose noticed the pungent smell in the room and then cringed as she saw what lined the shelves.

"Dried Sea horses - Beauty"

"Pig Penis for Virility"

"Wormwood Hash - Apply to skin and burn carefully"

"Human Tonsils, flavor enhancers"

The hooded figure who was barely four feet tall stood at a table, a deck of old tattered cards in their hand. It spoke with a raspy, choking voice.

"I know why you're here. You're from Iwaku, the Glorious Lands of Queen Diana and her subjects. And you're here looking for the Ban Hammer, is that right? Many of us from Guy'ah envy your kingdom's stability and prosperity. It's no wonder that something so powerful would be stolen."

The deck was shuffled, then laid flat in the center of the table.

"I can help tell the outcome of your quest. Or, I can tell the outcome of one of your lives. Rest assured that my predictions have always been accurate.

"So what'll it be?"

* * *​

The babe cried louder at Damian's approach and the woman madly started rocking it back and forth. Streaks of dirt were painted on her face, no doubt from either working or walking the streets. Brown eyes glanced up at the man, and what she saw made her frown. Her words were quiet, but nonetheless Damian could hear. "You ain't from 'round here are ya? Wot's wrong, he asks. Better go back to where you're from laddybuck, if ya can't see wot's wrong from lookin'. Everything is wrong in this blasted place."

She made a sound of disgust, mouth forming a sneer; Damian could see a chip in her front tooth. Her babe finally quieted but that did nothing to help with her mood.

"No food, and barely 'nough work to go 'round to feed hungry mouths. We gots water - plenty o' it - but not a drop to drink. That don't stop the lads from drinking like fish - Barkeep's happy to keep them nobles topped off. She loves her coin. Ask me, I wanna see the heads of the Royals roll for wot they've done. Everyday they pass 'nother one of their taxes on us poor folk. Sucked this district dry in a year's time and we ain't none too happy. Stick around long 'nough and you'll see us demonstratin'"

* * *​

The lutist's eyes lit up like a supernova.

"Oh I'll tell ya anything mate if you keep those coins a'coming, but everyone knows what that sign means. It's the Royal Arms. It's printed on every flag and banner at the Royal Palace." His eyes glazed over as his hands strummed an off key chord. "Ahhh the palace, with rooms piled high with kegs of beer and ale, and whole pigs to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner. No doubt the nobles grow fat, eh?"

 

[Envy]

Benalish looked up with a cock of his eyebrows. "Indeed they are. Tell me, who is the royal printershop's owner?" He crossed his arms in a comfortable manner and drummed his fingers as he glanced at the hostile man. "If you tell me this and one other point, of why this country was building their own ban hammer I hall pay you handsomely."

 

[Auntie Phaz]

Cold and wringing wet from the landing in the harbor, Zaeke stood frowning and bedraggled on the pier. Not sure whether he should be exasperated or eager at this point, he made his way over to the collection of chests that contained the group's belongings. Finding the one that was marked with his name, he opened the chest and started digging through its contents. He hadn't brought much for the trip, just a few changes of clothes and some of his personal belongings. Finding an old shirt that was torn and faded in places, he used it to dry himself off a little. It didn't take care of all the moisture that covered him seeing as he was soaked, but it at least helped to make him look a little more presentable and less like a drowned rat. Peeling of the drenched coat he was currently wearing, he selected another from the tangled mass of hastily packed clothes inside the chest and put it on.


Now that he was slightly drier, he felt like he could get on with what they had come there to do. Hearing the Captain's orders to head to the nearby tavern, he hesitated for a moment. A tavern wasn't the best place for him to be. If it was crowded and rowdy, as taverns often tended to be, there was a chance his empathic abilities could be overloaded by the morass of emotions generated by its patrons. Still, orders were orders. Concluding that there was no way around it, Zaeke begrudgingly made his way to the tavern with the others in his group, sighing quietly to himself as he trudged up the hill.


As he entered the Cbox, his fears about the place were immediately confirmed. A force that felt like walking into a brick wall washed over him, stopping him in his tracks just inside the door. The feelings and emotions of the people in the tavern invaded his mind, brutally slamming into his psyche and sweeping his own thoughts away into the back of his consciousness. He reached out to steady himself, his hand finding an unoccupied table that he leaned against as he swooned. Reaching up to his head, he pressed the palm of his hand against his temple as if he could physically push the feeling of being overtaken out of his mind. It was no use, though, so he settled into one of the chairs at the table, groaning wearily as he sat down.


Zaeke tried to focus and pull himself together, but it proved difficult in this place. It was like he could hear the voice of each individual that was currently in the tavern yelling, wheedling, and cursing inside his head all at once. Some of the impressions he was receiving were fairly innocuous and would have been bearable by themselves, but it was those that were more powerful and malicious that resonated the loudest. Zaeke was seeing into the hearts and souls of some of the tavern's less genteel clientele, and the things that were being projected from them made him shudder. It was as if every vice and moral indiscretion one could think of were spilling out from their psyches like so much bile, leaving Zaeke feeling dirty and ashamed. He couldn't shake the feeling no matter how hard he tried. It hung over him where he sat like a shroud, weighing him down and giving him the sensation of a greasy pall covering his skin.


Reaching inside his shirt, he gripped the seal on his chest, turning it slightly to twist it deeper into his flesh. It caused him pain, but it was nothing compared to what he was feeling within his mind at the moment. He had hoped a slight adjustment of the seal might help to block out the unwelcome impressions infringing on his own thoughts, but it proved useless. They were still there, gnawing away at his mind. It seemed there was nothing he could do about it. As long as he was in this place, he would have to suffer the burden of its patrons' inner most secrets and problems.


Wincing as he looked from the table, Zaeke looked out over the bar. It was impossible to tell what emotions were coming from which people, not with so many in one place. He noticed through the dull aching pain that was beginning to swell within his head that most of the others who were on the mission had split up and were going about their own business in various places around the bar. He began to try and get up to walk over to the bar, thinking maybe a drink would help numb his empathically induced headache, when a sound pierced the roiling haze filling his mind. Over the discordant strumming of the lute player, he could hear a soft tapping coming from somewhere in the tavern. Still in his chair, he didn't attempt to look around and find its source. Instead, he sat where he was and concentrated on the sound itself. Ignoring the voices within his mind made it difficult at first, but as the tapping continued they gradually became somewhat muted. For the first time since he had entered the tavern, the assault on his consciousness abated and he began to feel a calm come over his mind, his own thoughts now resurfacing and the other voices pushed to the back of his mind. As long as he listened to the tapping, it seemed he was able to block everything else out.


Tap tap tap. Tap... tap. Tap... tap tap tap...


He couldn't tell what the meaning of it was, but the more he listened it was obvious there was some sort of pattern or rhythm to it. The tapping continued for a few moments more before it ceased. Dread swelled in the pit of Zaeke's stomach as the sound faded away. Fearing that the cloying thoughts of everyone in the tavern would come crashing in on him once more, he braced himself for the pain once again, but it never came. The halcyon serenity that listening to the tapping had given him remained. At first shocked, Zaeke soon was soon overcome with joy and relief instead. It seemed his empathic breakdown was over. For the moment at least, he had apparently been cured of its effects.


Glancing around the tavern, Zaeke wished he knew who had made the tapping. He owed this person a thank you, even if they hadn't meant to help him by what they were doing. Deciding his benefactor would just have to remain a mystery for the time being, he settled back into his chair, heaving a sigh that this time sounded contented and relieved.

 

[Excesmyr]

Delvin sat at the bar, on the opposite end where Dahli had taken rest. The bar seemed teeming with activity. A bard playing some out of tune notes. It hurt his ears, but it wasn't the worst the tavern had to offer. He winced as a babe was crying somewhere in the tavern. Pinpointing it was hard with the multitude of distractions in the Cbox. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. He slowed his mind down, taking everything in one step at a time. He analyzed what was going on in the bar.

Buried in the sounds, was a faint tapping. It was faint, but consistent. If he listened it would always be there drowned out by the lutenist's strings. It sounded like a code, but he couldn't understand it. It was faint enough for him to miss every other tap, but loud enough for him to hear it. It hurt his head, trying to analyze it in his position. It was too inaudible to decipher.

More noticeable was the bard's lute. Suddenly, it slowed down. Other than the odd note that he played, he stopped and talked to someone. He wasn't looking, so he relied on his ears. He turned to the bartender and ordered a plain drink.

"An ale, if you will." He kept his head down, trying to look inconspicuous. He began to actively listen to the happenings around the bar.

 

[Effort]

They were closing in on the runner, jaguar dude jumped down from the rooftops, the monk chick swung in from the clotheslines. The runner was basically surrounded, they had no where to go. Except a secret door hidden in the wall. Monk chick landed near where the figure had entered the wall, she was putting her whip away when he came up to her. She smiled and with a shrug she headed in. He looked over at the jaguar dude, shrugged and stepped inside.

He could smell the odors before he could see in the inside of the room. Bottles and jars of things lined the walls on shelves and something was cooking over the fire, which is probably where the smell was coming from, it smelled kind of familiar. Weird. David raised his hand and pointed at the sea horses "I think had some of those before." Or maybe it was squid. He walked around a corner of the table, looking at one of the books, opening the cover and starting to look at the first few pages. He looked up when he heard the cards as they were being shuffled and then set on the table, there was an offer to tell someone's fortune, or the possible outcome of the quest. Turning to the monk, Zen was her name, he remembered now, he said "Maybe Mysterio can tell us how to get the Hammer back. Or let us know if we should quit now."

 

[Warenai hana]

'You can find out anything you want through a black market. Someone their will have at least a small connection... with the right price.' Was a saying he often listened to when he needed information. Unfortunately he didn't know anyone from the black market on this land so it was impossible to tell who was who because the black market was such a secure operation. He glanced around the room seeing most of the others had already started up a conversation or were drinking away at the bar. He knew most of the people on this little quest would not trust information from a black market, but it was a lead... assuming he can find one. He glanced around again trying to stop someone shady, but it was of no use, they were all to drunk or weld up in their own misery for him to pinpoint anyone who might know. With the exception of the man that had been tapping his foot but someone had already started in on him. For now he would just start talking to the drunken nobles... it was better than doing nothing.

He walked up with a dumb grin that he had used so many times at a bar before, "Hay!" He laughed. "Bar Girl, bring me a round! Anything ya got!" He said immediatly becoming friendly with his drunken 'friends'. "So how are we doing tonight?" He said putting an arm around one laughing with them. "I think you need another round, am I right?" He jabbed a fingure into the man he held in his arm "Of course you do, you can never have too much! Bar Girl, bring an extra for this one to!" He said pointing at the same man with his arm in the air, laughing with them like he had known then all his life. He did this all the time with drunkards, usually getting information or just plain robbing them blind. He took a bag that they had dropped on the ground and tossed it up to his hand with his foot. "Let me in, I will play your little game." He said still smiling just enough to match the others. "Are we feeling lucky today!"

 

[DawnsLight]

Dahlia stared dumbstruck at the man for a moment after he hit her with the rolled up parchment. Realizing that this was probably doing her no favors in the eyes of this quick-tempered stranger she composed herself and tried to remain calm. "That was an aside to the lutist, but I do suppose you have me in that such a thing is said to avoid the ire of the one being offensively commented upon. Besides that, you do seem to assume an awful lot, sir."

Luminous blue eyes regarded the stranger coolly while she took a sip of her warming beverage. "There is nothing offensive in keeping time, in fact I rather admire hose who do it well and often. As for idle exposition, I have always thought that such things made conversation easier when two individuals are not acquainted. The assumption that you are better suited to merriment was drawn from the lines about your eyes and despite this professed worry I think that this may just be how you find your mirth." As she spoke in a quiet rush her lips began to curl into a small smile while she sank into a nearby chair.

"But you never know, I could be wrong." She said with a nonchalant shrug.

It was only when the man mentioned codes that Dahlia began to pay extra care to the odd rhythm he was tapping. She committed it to memory as one might a song until it seemed to repeat itself and she was certain she had the entire thing. The brief glance at the paper seemed to confirm her suspicions. She knew that such tapping codes existed, and some were even standard, but her area of expertise did not lie in codes and ciphers. If she were able to remember these taps and pauses maybe someone else in the group could help her to unravel the code.

Excitement at the prospect thrummed through her body though she tried to keep an outward appearance of calm. "I do think I should take your advice and develop more of an appreciation for rhythm and music. The tune you are tapping, for instance. Did you compose this particular tune yourself or is it from another source? If I may ask, who are you sir?"

 

[Cammeh]

Beraeus snorted at David. Younger people today. Always wanting the easy way out of things. But he had a point. However, Beraeus wasn't one to give up. He was confident they would recover the hammer, and he didn't want to risk that confidence by what at first seemed like an easy answer.

"If we ask for the outcome, and it's poor, then what do we do?" he asked, posing the question to his companions. "Turn around and go back home? Then what do we tell the Queen? We gave up because someone told us we'd fail?"

Beraeus shook his head. "I'd rather not know the outcome, and though no one wants to know whether they'll live or die, I'd gladly offer my fortune told if it means we go on with the chance to rescue the hammer."

 

[Asmodeus]

"OH MY GOD!" Asmodeus exclaimed loudly, causing another temporary drop in the Cbox volume. He had been staring dumbfound at Dahlia as she spoke her various sentences, and had finally had enough.

"What is this compulsion you Iwakuans have to make five different points at once without waiting for a response?!"

He brought the scroll up again, pressing it quickly to Dahlia's mouth before she could speak. Their eyes met, her surprise to his frenzy - a mutual widening. "It's like there's a spotlight... a giant EEEEYE OF GOOOOD... moving from person to person. And what happens to the rest of us when you're speaking? Do we cease to exist?! Aagh!" The scream was short and high-pitched, making the lute player miss a note.

Asmodeus's eyes tracked nervously to the side. "And it's happening again! No one's interrupting me! No one's stopping my eccentric behaviour! Not even you. You're just staring at me. I could just keep talking and talking and talking forever and the world would stop spinning and time would freeze and the planets would drop out of space. Oh God!"

He pocketed the scroll and pressed his head to the table, his knee jerking up and down violently. "Must... keep... the world... POWERED!"

 

[Effort]

David didn't fully trust this fortune teller freak, what if they sucked your soul out while you were trying to figure out what they said about your life? They wouldn't say it outright,they like to give you riddles, which makes you think about it for a while and gives the soul sucking fortune teller time to drain their customer. Or maybe this one wouldn't try to steal their souls, he'd been wrong before.

If this wasn't some foe they had to defeat, but some fortune teller, then this was a waste of time. Unless this was the real deal, in which case he would rather know if this quest would turn sour for him. "I already know this guy is headed for a walker" he said with a thumb jutted toward Beraeus. "Deal me in. Tell me my future oh great and powerful Dealer" he said wth sarcastic reverence.

 

[Zen]

"Oh, the both of you wish to know your future? Rather confident then, to not ask about your quest. Very confident."

The hooded stranger turned to look at the trio, nimble hands shuffling the deck. Carefully, it placed six cards upon the table.

"I've only enough power to cast one fortune. But I believe that will be enough."

His fist swiftly came down upon the table, and the cards jumped into the air and flipped. A letter was written in each card before the ink faded away.

R E A S M I​

Its hands retrieved the cards and placed them back in the deck. There was silence as the trio tried to make sense of the fortune telling.

"I expect your party will be waiting for you at the tavern. Best hurry."

The stranger said no more, merely turned to tend the pot bubbling above his fire.

* * *​

It had started raining outside as Melody hiked the way up to the Cbox. She was in a very sour mood indeed and was looking forward to a bottle of whiskey to warm her spirits. However, the idea of visiting the King and Queen at tomorrow's banquet banished that want. She wasn't too fond of Guy'ah's royalty, but then again most people weren't to such fame. She had yet to get used to Queen Diana and Melody had known her personally for years.

The door to the Cbox slammed open, revealing a very soaked and furious Captain Melody.

"Bottle of whiskey, right now."

The Bartender who just finished ladling out drinks to everyone, paused at the table where the nobles and Valdus were gambling. Lucky that Melody had stopped by when she did. From looking at the dice, it looked like Valdus lost a fair share of his winnings. The best recourse would probably be cheat or beg his fellow party members for more Reputation.

"What are you all gawking at? I said, I want a bottle of whiskey!"

"Oh right miss, I'm terribly sorry."

Seconds later, a bottle lay resting upon the counter top for the captain to enjoy. From her pockets, Melody tossed the woman a bag of coin.

"I'll be renting out the whole second floor. It's for my crew, they should be coming up shortly once they're done. I want no disruptions understand?"

The Bartender nodded stiffly.

"Good."

Taking a healthy swig, Melody clambered her way up the stairs, and not quietly either; a slew of curses flew from her sailor mouth. Not that the woman cared, she wanted to get into dry clothes.

 

[Effort]

David watched the kooky old coot as he put the cards back into the deck, the only thing revealed about their future was some random letters. He waited for something else, a poof of smoke, things floating around the room, a foreboding voice warning them of imminent danger. When nothing happened David squinted at the hooded dude but all he did was stir the pot and told them to hussle off to the tavern. His squint turned to a scowl as he realized that's all they were getting, and he turned away from table and left the hidden lab to go back onto the street, "Freakin' waist of time."