The Ascent of Zariel, Volume I, Chapter 3.0


 * Rancho Rigor Mortis - 


 * Adobe houses in cattle-fenced yards are scattered along the bumpy, rutted dirt roads of this rustic subdivision on the outskirts of Necromundus city center. The streets are marred by wagon wheel ruts, hoof prints and vehicle tire tread tracks alike.


 * It is a quite cold late evening, descending toward dusk. The slightest breeze stirs over the land infrequently.


 * The scattered worlds of the afterlife stretch across the Necromundus sky. A bipolar world, one side frozen the other green, approaches.

Zariel's voice calls out of the house, "Who is it?"

"It's Linnael!" the mage bellows. "Get out here! We're going on a trip."

There's a little shuffling inside, followed by the door opening a crack and a hazel eye peering out. Once he has determined that it is, in fact, Linnael, the demon opens the door more fully and tilts his head at the mage. "Where to?"

Linnael has his staff, his fedora, and a small pack. "The Bloodwalk," he says. "We have a meeting with the creepy preist."

"I think we've already established that we're not going to get any information out of these guys," Zariel remarks, stepping out of the house before closing and locking the door, "What makes you think that'll change between the other night and today?"

"Because," Linnael says, giving Zariel a sideways glance. "I'm fucking Carmen Sandiego. Let's get going."

Zariel blinks at that, following the mage, "Are you using the word 'fucking' as a verb or an adjective?"

Linnael snorts. "Adjective," he says, before walking away.

"And how, exactly, does Carmen SanDiego have anything to do with this?" Zariel asks.


 * Bloodwalk - 


 * Stalactites like bloody daggers hang from the ceiling of this broad cavern. The jagged stone teeth are engraved with glowing purple sigils, which are reflected in the softly rippling surface of a black lake.

The black lake shimmers brightly in the cavernous gloom, its unholy green-violet glow enhancing the violet shine of the rune-engraved stalactites above. It would seem that the heroes have come at a time of ritual, as a bound and nearly nude sacrifice lies prostrate on a great stone slab. Lightsake stands above him, a knife dipped in some vile liquid dripping poison onto the sacrifice's chest. As the heros enter, the chanting rises to a crescendo... and the knife descends.

As the youth's blood flows, and touches the water, the purplegreen glow flares.

Linnael walks into the Bloodwalk with Zariel, a pack in hand and seeming confident... but as he spots the grisly scene in front of him, he just stops and stares, jaw dropping.

"Juicy," Zariel remarks quietly, shaking his head. No, he's not all that phased by the scene, but it does earn a solemn frown as he studies the water's glow. "Think they come back from that?"

The Shining Ones gather around the pool as the unearthly light flares, chanting as the sacrifice's blood feeds the lake and the flames. And as the heroes stand gawking, images start coming clear in the water and flame. King Trueguard - at least, a conjured image of him - takes nebulous form above the waters, bound in what seems to be some form of transparent crystal. A demonic head takes shape behind that crystal, followed soon enough by a body, as if the creature is stepping into a light. "Ah, Lightsake," it rumbles - Kazmazran.

Slowly, Linnael closes his jaw, and hisses as he watches. His voice... is not quite what it normally is when he speaks. "You will cover me, Zariel," he says softly, and as if from a great distance. His clothes disappear, his hair elongates and bursts into strands of air, whipping around his head. Blue takes over his eyes, glowing within, and a similar color comes to his mouth. Legs of stone, and finally, slowly, wings of water sprout from his back. Still, he does not approach the Shining Ones or their demonic master. "Plans have changed."

"Trueguard's with Kazmazran," Zariel murmurs, frown deepening. He looks over to Linnael and reaches out to grab his shoulder firmly even as the mage changes. The demon's tone is an urgent whisper, "Talk to me, Linn, what're you up to? We need to find out where they're at - it might not be the Stronghold."

The sound of demonic laughter booms through the cavern as Kazmazran's face become's clearer. "You have guests, Father," the demon says, mockingly.

Lightsake turns then to face the enraged mage. "Look at the King," he says, his tone mild. "Make one move, only one, and Kazmazran will take the King where you will never find him. I suggest we be ...mature."

The not-quite-humanoid Linnael growls darkly, his liquid wings thrashing about behind himself wildly, but he does not move.

"Heya, Kaz," Zariel greets brightly, "How've you been since the last time I kicked your ass?" He nods to Lightsake, then, "Don't worry, I'll keep him from pulling anything. The crystal prison bit's a nice touch, I haven't seen one of those since the last video game I beat."

Said crystal prison fades from view as the sacrifice runs out of blood, and the lake begins to dim its fire. Kazmazran's voice in fading farewell, says, "You turn away from power you never knew, little demon." He seems to find the thought amusing. Logfile from Zariel.

Linnael looks aside to Zariel, eyes aglow, before looking back to the demon and his priests. "My plan would be in vain now," he hisses. "I apologize, Zariel."

"Little?" Zariel scoffs, "I smack him all across the Stronghold when I'm bored and he calls me 'little demon'..." He looks back to Linnael, then, giving that shoulder a squeeze, "It's fine, Linn. Just another surprise to add to the collection. Next time, though, maybe you could try filling me in? Lot easier to cooperate when we're on the same page." He looks back to the caveful of Shining Ones, then. "Hey, you guys mind if I ask you a question?"

As the fires fade, the chanting does as well - leaving the assembled Shining Ones free to do other things, like ready their scourges. "Of course," drawls Lightsake. "Never let it be said we are not men of reason."

"Men of reason," Linnael hisses. "To do such things. Oh yes, reason indeed." He blinks slowly. "You mentioned a bargain, yes? What did you wish, before you would tell us?"

"Why are you doing all of this?" Zariel asks simply, "The sacrifices, the demon-summoning, kidnapping the King, torturing people. Don't you have anything better to do with your time? Do any of you have social lives at all?" He's asking this seriously.

"Only a faithless being such as yourself would need to as a question like that," says Father Lightsake solemnly. "Who seeks to leave his power behind and the eternal game with it. And you cannot bargain, because your 'guard' has not returned."

Linnael growls, before lifting a finger to point at the youth's body. "He will come with us," he says, not a 'please' or 'if you would' in his tone.

"Just because I have faith in different things, that doesn't mean I'm faithless," Zariel points out, before looking sidelong at Linnael and squeezing that shoulder again - this time rather hard. "Chill," he commands simply, in that same 'I'm not asking you, I'm telling you' tone. Back to Lightsake, "Tell me what you want with the guard. If I'm all right with the arrangement you would make, I'll hunt him down and bring him back here, even if I have to drag him in kicking and screaming. But you have to tell me what you want with him first."

Lightsake smiles. "If he is an angel, as I suspected... give me a vial of his tears, and I will give you the King."

Behind him, acolytes move to unbind the nearly bloodless body of the sacrifice. Blessings are cast on the body, with the unholy water of the lake. They seem to have an effect - the body flickers, as if a bad hologram breaking down, but the acolytes seem unconcerned.

Water rises up from Linnael's shoulder, forcefully brushing the hand, before another stream shoots out of Linnael's pack, glowing faintly, and strikes the body of the sacrifice. "If you wish angel tears," Linnael says with a growl. "Watch how these affect the boy. I have more, and will give them to you."

Zariel blinks as his hand is swept aside by the water. He murmurs something under his own breath, before crossing his arms. "What is it you want the angel tears for?" he asks of Lightsake, "Just pretend Linn and I aren't together. He likes pop up in the middle of others' progressions and try to speed things along. I thought /I/ was the 'charge in recklessly' type before I met him."

The acolytes wach as the water hits the youth's body, but of visible effect there is none. At least, until Kalam, angry, muscles his way toward the body to investigate, murmuring some sort of incantation. "Begin again," he says to them harshly. "Quickly, And let's not have any more slips."

Father Lightsake watches this with interest, shaking his head. "Angel's blessings are not the same as angel's tears," he says. "Nor are we required to explain our reasons. You wanted the bargain named, it is named."

Linnael snorts, then turns away. "The days of the Bloodwalk are numbered," he whispers as he begins walking off. "I apologize, Zariel. It appears this was a waste of our time."

"Fair enough," Zariel nods, "You'll hear from me again." He turns to follow after Linnael, falling silent for the time being.

Lightsake nods. "Somehow, fallen one, you fail to surprise me."

Behind him, on the altar, the youth's body discorporealizes, a faint puff of mist fading behind him.

Linnael's watery wings swing about one last time, and three jets of glowing water shoot out, landing in different spots in the lake. The mage snorts, and walks on.

"I haven't been trying to," Zariel points out simply as he continues to follow.

It might be a good idea to run very fast now. As Linnael's jets of water strike the lake, the purplegreen flames die down to a glow - and then die off altogether, to cries of incredible outrage from the priests.

Chuckling under his breath, Linnael dashes off, surprising fast for one with feet of stone.


 * Temple Row - 


 * The major landmark along this broad cobblestone thoroughfare is the marble-domed Temple of the Shining Ones, with its bald priests in white robes often seen coming and going down the steep steps, between the smooth columns. The dome itself is emblazoned with images of entwined crimson dragons while fires are kept burning in twelve creches carved into the dome, representing the deities served by the temple.


 * It is a quite cold night. A steady gentle breeze stirs over the land. The sky is filled by dark, low clouds.

Zariel runs after Linnael, growling. "Did you have to do that?" he barks, eyes half-black.

"Yes," Linnael says simply, calming down slightly once outside the temple, though he doesn't turn back to his normal form. "Now their sacrificial rituals cannot be performed."

"They'll just fix it," the demon points out, "They have an eternity to fucking fix it. Bloodwalk's days are numbered my ass... It is NOT a good idea to piss off the people holding the fucking hostage!"

"Calm," Linnael says, walking for the Commons. "Their days are numbered, I guarantee you that now. Let us find the boy they sacrificed."

"No, Linn, you don't get it," Zariel points out, speeding up to try and cut off the mage, "They come back, just like everyone else. They won't stay dead, they're mortals so they can't be bound, they've been beaten around so much that they've forgotten any fear of pain they had. You are not a god. What the hell makes you think their days will ever be numbered when it's like they've got an endless population that just won't quit?"

"There are more ways to change than to die, Zariel," the mage says as he starts walking out of the temple grounds. "We have already seen the first of the changes, when they were forced to take the king."


 * The Commons - 


 * An open cobblestone plaza in the midst of Whisperwood Hold, surrounded by a tavern and other low buildings. Broad thoroughfares lead off in several directions. Castle Row angles north toward Whisperwood Keep, the seat of power in Cataract. Temple Row takes travelers toward the marble-domed Temple of the Shining Ones. Hanging Row, to the south, is where criminal punishments are meted out to the wicked and unworthy. Market Row, with its stalls and shops, extends to the west.


 * It is a quite cold night. The slightest breeze stirs over the land infrequently. The sky is filled by dark, low clouds.


 * The sky is moonless.

"Blind stubborn zealots don't just convert," Zariel remarks, "And it's even harder to convert someone who has nothing to fear. Fear is the driving force of change in everything, even if it's not obvious."

Linnael chuckles quietly. "And demons do not try to cast off their chains, but I do not look to convert them. Just to rid them of their power here."

"Fear drove that change, too," Zariel says. He lets out a sigh, having blown off his steam in ranting, and says, "So how do you intend to go about that, then?"

"One starts by removing their power, if only temporarily," Linnael murmurs. "That pool took them years, he said they will not have it back soon."

"Who said?" Zariel asks, tilting his head at the mage, "And why are people plotting to help me... /behind my back/?"

Linnael snorts. "I was to hold the pool ransom," he admits. "But the demon was there the moment we arrived. My plans do not go any further at the moment, but I will find a way to bring down the Bloodwalk."

"Who. Said," Zariel repeats, brow furrowing a bit at the mage.

Linnael looks over his shoulder at Zariel. "Lightsake," he whispers. "The pool was more valuable to him than a king."

"And when exactly did he say this?" the demon asks, "Doesn't seem wise to tell something like that to someone who wants to oppose you, after all. That's like... Superman telling Lex Luthor, 'You know, I've got this AWFUL allergy to kryptonite.'"

"Last night," Linnael says simply. "If you can't remember, then so mote it be." He walks forward into the town. "We go to find the boy now."

"Yes, O Fearless Leader," Zariel replies flatly, giving the mage a bland look, "How did I end up taking a backseat in my own quest?"

It doesn't take all that long, if one noted the sacrificial youth's features. The recorporealized lad is hauling a cord of wood toward Lodestone Tavern, across his shoulders.

Linnael gives Zariel a glowy-eyed look. "Then take command," he says, "if you wish it. I will let you handle the words."

"I'm just trying to point out your tendancy to charge into things headfirst and make everyone else follow along with you," Zariel remarks, looking around. The youth catches his eye and he tilts his head a bit in study. "That look like him?" he inclines his head over the boy's way.

It does, indeed, look quite like the boy so recently sacrificed. He doesn't seem upset at all, though.

"Yes," Linnael says, gliding toward him across the commons, even as he shifts back to a more normal form.

Zariel also approaches the boy, rubbing at the back of his neck. "He doesn't seem like he remembers it," the demon murmurs, "Unless he's just... used to it..."

Linnael frowns. "I hope he just doesn't remember," he says, reaching a hand out to the boy. "Hey, kid. Have a moment?"

The boy turns to the two strangers with polite incomprehension. "Good evening sirs, did you want a room at the tavern?"

"Doesn't remember," Zariel murmurs, "Explains a lot." He lets Linn talk to the boys since... well, since he's the one who wanted to talk to him.

Linnael pauses a moment, before giving the boy a smile. "Sure," he says. "A room would be nice. Preferably a comfortable one." He shudders. "With a good lock. I caught this guy in a shining robe looking at me earlier. He kind of gave me the creeps."

The boy blinks. "The Shining Ones are holy," he says, shocked. "You shouldn't speak blasphemously like that."

Zariel just covers his mouth to hide his amusement. "Maybe this isn't a good place for us to stay," he suggests, "We're liable to offend the locals. It's bad diplomacy."

Linnael covers his mouth. "Pardon me," he says. "I... We're strangers here."

The boy indicates the tavern. "There are rooms, but the guards are looking for strangers, to question about the King. You should probably go."

"You heard the kid," the demon says, tugging Linn's sleeve lightly, "Come on. It's not all that late, we can ride home."

Linnael nods. "Alright," he says, before whistling, calling his wolf. "Let's go."

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