"Follow the water" was the general direction that Tasha and her group were given. It was a hike of several miles, and several thousand feet - the hardest hike any of the Karnors had made before (Gabriel, after all, had come down from a mountain and even then he'd been carried). There was discussion along the way about Tasha's find in the former dragon's cave. Hakeber was convinced that it was a holographic key of some sort, while Gabriel didn't know enough about Celestial Empire technology or culture to offer an opinion.

While Aaron kept silent on the discussion of the purpose of the item, he did have something to add afterwards: "According to the timing, this thing was stolen fairly recently after Landing - maybe within a century," the Lapi notes. "The monks or whatever at the temple he raided couldn't have learned enough magic to curse him unless they had a head start - or else something about the event made it work. The priests and holy men on Abaddon were able to block Light Mages from scrying almost as soon as magic started up there."

"That is very peculiar. I'm afraid I just don't know very much about magic evena fter having had the basics partially explained to me. There may be more at work here than we originally believed; certainly, the apparition in my dream back on Abaddon seemed real enough, and it's not hard to believe he may be older than the Expedition. In fact, the dragon didn't recognize aircraft or Vartans, suggesting his race, too, predated our arrival, and may or may not have had a hand in originating religions, creating new gods, and the like. It's quite a mystery," Tasha agrees as she hikes, having take the rearmost position in case anyone should trip or need other assistance. "What we know for sure is that Sinai has been busy long before we arrived."

"Of course, the simpler explanation is that the temple he got it from was within - or on the edges of - a Forbidden Zone," the Lapi suggests. "I wonder if Queen Jade-Eyes has Savanite records of conquered temples?"

"She might. You must know something more about the Zones than I do to make that guess -- the only Forbidden Zone I can remotely attribute a sentience or automated will to was the one on Abaddon and supposedly the one in Bosch. The rest are recorded as strange places -- and I've certainly heard the sailors tales -- but attributing them a will is rather uncommon," Tasha notes. She pauses to pick up a stream worn rock, then quickly pockets it before continuing on. "There is one more possibility, that I'm hesitant to note: the dead appear to create ghosts on this world. Isn't ... it's not impossible to say that they could be revered as gods."

"Magic is wilder and stronger in Forbidden Zones," Aaron explains. "It can spawn demons or other spirit creatures, and you know that weird beings can appear in them. If the Nagai built a temple near one, it may have been because it was considered 'holy ground'. Or it may not have been a temple at all - your dragon didn't recognize airships, so may have seen something unfamiliar and just called it a temple."

"But I did recognize the symbology on the gold coins he also took with him; they depicted the lunar goddess of the Celestial Empire. I remember her face and symbology from my contactwith the Celestial Empire master AI aboard the Orpheus," the red woman explains.

"Naga currency.. or religious tokens, perhaps.." Hakeber mutters. "Don't really know what they used for currency back then - just assumed it was all electronic, like everyone else in the Expedition." The scholar stops and looks up as if in thought. "Can someone hand me the binoculars?" she asks a moment later.

"Perhaps they were in the midst of transitioning from electronic to hard currency. Expedition technology would have mostly failed within the first few days on the surface, with optical technologies and certain other individual and general technologies lasting longer. A hundred years would have been ample time for most of it to break down," Tasha points out. She steps forward and joins Hakeber, following her binocular-assisted gaze as he looks up the mountain, leaning closer than is strictly necessary. "Religious tokens seem probable too. I do wish we had better records of how the early post-landing Fleet condicted themselves."

"I wonder where they got the gold for them?" the Lapi ponders, not bothering to challenge the binoculars or Vartan vision. He seems more focused on the immediate surroundings.

There have been flashes from the mountain before. Water, ice.. and ice in the water. Up ahead, Tasha can see three glints of light, but they aren't moving at all.. and they're equally spaced apart.

"I seeee youuuu," Hakeber says in a spooky voice. "That's glass. From Garuda cockpits, I'm sure."

"They may have used survey data from before planetfall, such as those taken by the Fleet and its assorted satelites and space stations. I could probably locate gold deposites with Melchior if I were equipped to do so," Tasha explains, then she points up the mountain. "Equally spaced glints are always suspicious! I'd say we're almost there."

"Yes!" Aaron agrees immediately. "If they're going to be hostile, better to find out before we've exhausted ourselves with climbing."

"This sounds like my job." Tasha grins, pulling out her signaling and styling mirror before holding it aloft and angling it towards the sun, just so, before tilting it back and forth to make the reflected light flash.

After a few minutes of this, there seems to be an answering flash from the mountain. It's a brief one, maybe just an acknowledgement of 'we see you.'

Hakeber takes the opportunity to sit down and rest her feet. "They'll be stronger than you, right Tasha? So they could carry us?" she asks.

Tasha lowers her mirror, waggling her other hand towards the Aerie. "Well, they see us. No indication if they're coming down or if they wnat us to join them. I guess we'll have to wait and see."

Walking over, Tasha takes a seat besides Hakeber, then reaches over to pat her arm. "You're doing great, by the way," she tells her, then directs a similiar sentiemtn towards the group.

"If we're going to be waiting, may as well make a campfire to keep busy and help them find us," Gabriel suggests, rubbing his palms together.

"I'm the softest one here," Hakeber notes. "And that's including a bunny rabbit. You'll tell me if I'm slowing you down though, right?" she asks Tasha.

"That's a good idea. I'll do it -- you all take some time to rest," Tasha agrees, immediately starting to clear the area and gather firewood. halfway between grabbing her second stick, she pauses to glance over at Hakeber and nod. "I think you're doing fine for a city girl." She grins, then winks and resumes her collection. "Besides, as a group we're not the sorts to leave people behind if we can help it. If I think it's damgerous, though, I'll let you know. Our survival is the best thing we can bring back from this expedition, after all."

Once the fire is going, it isn't long before they have visitors. Three Vartans stay in the air, circling above, while the fourth lands nearby. "Please state your business here," the emissary squawks out in Vartan. He's got leather armor and a rather wicked looking halberd with a hooked end for dragging flyers down.

Tasha rises to greet the man. "We are explorers, we would like to enter your town to conduct our research in to local mythologies, legends, history and related artifacts. I am Aldara Tasha," Tasha squawks in near-perfect 'city Vartan', though her second given name is in old Olympian. She gestures to herself, then moves to the others, "This is our leader, Gabriel, our guide, Aaron, and a scholar who has joined us, Hakeber." Like her own name, there's no Vartan translation, and so she has to switch from squawks to Standard several times.

The armed Vartan looks everyone over, and seems satisfied that none of them are local Jupani. "Hellas said to watch for you. Your companions will need to be netted to be carried," he replies.

The half-Vartan relays the request, then steps aside so that the flying Vartans may land and conduct their prepartions. "Do you need to know anything else about us? She asks as they wait.

Tasha considers that a moment, but realizesthe question is more complex than she first thought as she tries to convert Expedition weight measurement to Vartan. After asking the man to hold on a moment, she pulls out her pad of paper and begins doing some calculations, finally arriving at, "851 Stone, which is an estimate of course. I will also help you carry them."

"I'll carry the rabbit. It won't be the first time, nor the last," the half-Vartan replies with a grin. True to her word, she walks over and picks Aaron up like a sack of foodstuffs.

"Hey!" the Lapi complains. "We don't all speak Vartan you know. But if you just traded me for something I'll bite you, see if I don't!"

"You're so paranoid," Tasha tells the man just before she slings his upper body over her shoulder, his head next to the hilt of that unlikely looking sword of hers. I'm pretty tired, so, off we go!" And with that she breaks in to a run and is soon off and flying for Titan!

"Hey!" Hakeber calls up, as the other Vartans land and spread out heavy nets. Apparently they don't speak or understand Standard, or just don't want to to talk. It takes awhile to get their meaning across, and then everyone is airborne, with Hakeber, Gabriel and the supplies held in the net between the four Vartans.

Titan's Aerie
This high-mountain community is nearly inaccessible by foot, and consists of a pocket valley between two peaks, with very steep drops on one side. Three giant Vartan-like figures seem to stand guard over the clifftops. Rivers feed down from higher on the mountain, forming a small lake before continuing down the to create the stepped falls that lead to Rainbow Springs at the mountain's base.

The travelers are brought down next to one of the ancient Titan transport ships. There's some actual articulation, like in a combat Titan, but clearly the arms and legs are meant for landing and takeoff from rugged terrain. One of the landing ramps has been replaced by stone stairs, and atop them waits Hellas.

"Garudas," Tasha explains to Aaron and Hakeber, gesturing to the statute-like, weathered vehicles. "They were the favorite transport of the Vartan Clans back when we were a space faring mercenary race." When everyone is situated, Tasha pats Aaron's head for some reason, then turns to meet Hellas.

"Thank you for meeting us, and for going on ahead. I hope our coming wasn't inconvienent for you?" Tasha asks as she approaches the older, shinier Vartan.

"Eh, gotta keep things quiet, or there'll be a bit party or something, just because," Hellas says, waving a hand. "Most go stir-crazy up here, but too dumb to deal with the city."

"Aww, I'm sure they'd be fine with a bit of an education," Tasha insists as she looks past Hellas and in to the town proper. "Is there any formalities we need to see to? People we need meet, rituals, ... paperwork?

"Just come inside," the matron notes. "Less you're seen the better." She enters the ancient transport and waves for them to follow.

"Big, bossy woman," Aaron mutters, but probably with a bit more affection to his voice than usual.

Tasha nods, gesturing her friends to join her as she follows Kellas inside. As they walk she falls back to her group, nodding. "She makes me sentimental."

"She scares the drool outta me," Hakeber admits, abandoning the gear to the guards, and hoping they'll bring it in behind them. "Pretty good preservation on the ship though."

"I think the Amazonians have really messed up Aaron," Gabriel whispers to Tasha as best he can, hoping the Lapi can't overhear.

"I suspect the high altitude has something to do with it," Tasha agrees. Then, in a lower voice, she whisper back, "Oh it's the truth. He was like that when we first met. I can't blame him though -- and look at her fashion sense! Honestly, I'm jealous."

"Uh, she's wearing a loincloth and lots of jewelry," Gabriel points out. "Not that I won't discourage you from that when we're in private.."

"I'll take you up on that offer." Tasha then leans over to kiss the man on the muzzle, adding, "And a foot rub later. But first, we have socializing to do." And so she hurries back to her place behind Hellas.

Inside the ship, the entry soon gives way to a main corridor running the length, with large open spaces (cargo bays?) that have since been partitioned off with native materials. Hellas leads them forward, into the 'chest' area, where one room is full of furs and pillows and small stove. The walls have been scoured of what must have been a lot of electronic equipment, and there are rolls of salvaged wire next to a low work table where Hellas must make her jewelry. "Okay, you make it this far - that impressive," she says. "Sure you want to go on further to Storm Riders?"

Rather than reply, Tasha looks to the rest of her team. "Things will get even more difficult and dangerous from here. There's a lot of history in this town that's also worth investigating, so, there's nothing lost if anyone wants to remain behind."

"Probably. Apparently there isn't much of a multi-cultural education to be found here," the red woman answer. "However, this would be a good opportunity to learn a little Vartan." Turning back, Tasha asks Hellas, "What could my companions expect if they were to chose to remain here?"

"Puppy-girl would be popular with warriors," Hellas suggests. "Petite girls very rare, exotic. Big man can bunk with me, I like his eyes. Bunny.. probably not get eaten. Younger girls would want to play with him.."

"What, no sense of adventure?" Tasha asks Hakeber even as she just so happens to decide to wrap her arm around Gabriel's.

"It looks like we're all going; sorry if that disappoints anyone," Tasha then informs Hellas. "We've survived three worlds, fire, ice, and thousands of leagues; we'll be OK."

"Hmm, maybe," Hellas says. "You need guide, a Mistwalker. Can't fly to Storm Riders. Name is literal: they always clouds and storms up there. Don't trade much either. May all be dead, who know?"

"That's rather grim. Does your clan have a rivalry, or other contention with the Stormn Riders?" Tasha asks.

"Yes and no and sometimes," Hellas remarks. "Depends on boredom, pent up feelings, and whether we feel like fighting at any particular time."

"I know that feeling," the shorter Vartan sympathizes. "Can we find a Mistwalker in this village? And ..," she glances to the surrounding super-structure, then up, in to the stripped guts," ... I don't suppose any of these statutes still work? Lights? Small lightnings? Display pictures?"

"No, no magic here anymore," Hellas says, sounding proud of it. "Gerryonde is most experienced, but young and foolish. He agree to take you, no problem."

"He'll fit right in I'm sure," Tasha says as she looks back, smiling. "Too bad about the ... 'magic,' though. Do you mind if I look around these statutes to see if I can find anything of interest to us?"

"You want to poke around the sacred guardians?" Hellas asks, her eye widening. "Shaman would need to guide you, and you no can take anything."

"I just want to see how intact they are. These guardians, they had an original form and purpose a long, long time ago. They may retain their memories, or other useful abilities related to the purpose they once served," Tasha explains, then agrees, "I would in fact like to see your shaman. I think my friends want to rest, but I'd like to look around and meet this person if he or she is available."

"He crazy," Hellas warns. "You friends rest here, where I can watch them," she offers. "You go to entry, say to guards: take me to Abdiel."

"Yes ma'am." Tasha offers the woman a slight bow, then bids her friends, "Good luck -- save some fun for me," before she's off heading towards the entranceway.

Once outside, Tasha takes a moment to stretch her muscles before approaching the guard and asking, "Can you take me to Abdiel, please?"

"Dunno, he's crazy," the man replies with a shrug. "Shinies are always good."

The Shaman lives deeper in the valley, almost at the far end. In an actual cave, with a big rocky overhang. Torches illuminate the interior, and strange noises emanate as well. "Good luck! Need me to stay?"

"Oh I'll be fine, this will be my third spooky cave this month. No need to wait on me; I can find my way back," Tasha answers, then gives the man a smile and a bow of the head, "Thank you for the help!"

Tasha politely waits to see the man off, giving him a wave as he begins his descent in to the lower valley. Taking a deep breath, she turns to face the peculiar cavern and begins heading inside. It might be my third, but none of them had anyone living in them. No one alive, anyway. She can't help but wonder as she walks, when she started to be more anxious over the living than the dead.

"/Stop!/" shouts a male voice. "/Do not take another step! When were you born?" it demands from within the cave.

Tasha pauses, left hoof in the air as the voice booms down the cavern. Ears flattening even as her hackles rise, Tasha calls out in answer: "I don't know exactly when -- it was some time ninteen years ago, on an airship."

"Proceed, but lead with your right foot," the voice instructs. The cave isn't strait, but the voice and light are coming around a slight curve.

Tasha shifts her stance and begins walking again. She's not unaccustomed to strange requests from religious functionaries, nor the often inscrutable directives of deities and spirits. She is, after all, a product of such mechaniations. It's still odd, though, she has to admit.

The creature squatting in the chamber with its back to Tasha looks more like a vulture than anything else. The Vartan has stunted, tiny wings, is skinny enough to see his ribs showing and has an elongated skull and neck. He's naked, with no shinies at all, and is staring at a spread of tiny electronic parts on a leather hide before him. "Hmmm.. interesting. Oh, yes, I am Abdiel the Diviner, among other titles. And how are you, with such an odd scent?" He still hasn't turned around yet.

"Oh, the 'how' of me is complicated," Tasha insists as she walks towards the man. The team leader in her makes her concerned for his proper nutrition and medical care, but she knows better than to question the effectiveness of foreign cultures, nor the necessity of their traditions. "But what you're smelling is a half-Vartan. I'm half- ... " Jupani? Karnor? What am I, mom? "Half- ... Lets say Jupani."

The skinny Vartan moves like his muscles are made of rubber bands under high tension. Before Tasha can even react, he's standing in front of her and has her head in his talons. One big brown eye (his left one) stares into hers. "Curious!" he chirps.

Tasha blinks back at the man, eyes wide standing stock-still. "Aye, she reflexively agrees.

The avian head flips around, so now Tasha is being stared at by a yellow eye. "Ooooo, your spirit looks very old. How is that?" Abdiel asks.

"Because it is," Tasha answers, managing to relax some under the intense scrutiny, her shocked expression beginning to fade.

The bird blinks, and pulls back. "Yes, that makes sense!" he agrees, before asking, "Turn around for me? Where are your clothes from?"

Deciding 'the inspection' must be universal to all religions by this point, Tasha turns around and holds her arms out. "Most are from old Elamoore and Expedition City on Abaddon, the fifth planet in the Primus System -- the red star in the eastern sky at morning. The rest are from beyond our world, from a time before Vartans walked on this world."

"Very ooold," the shaman says, his fingers fidgeting. "And underneath? Fur? Feathers?"

"Both," Tasha replies, all the while wondering if he's really inspecting her or just staring at her bottom.

Taking this as a queue to turn around, Tasha does so and then begins putting her things aside. I'm glad I took the precaution of giving everyone else a reason to take a break. This would be very hard to explain, she considers as she pulls off her shirt, then unzips the front of her Expedition-era undersuit. Why does it always come to this?

"Wait!" Abdiel says, as Tasha starts to unseal the undersuit. Instead he taps the little hexagons with his clawtips. "This.. works.."

Thank you gods. Tasha takes her hand off the zipper, letting the peculiar shaman examine her suit. "It is an old relic. A protective garmet from the time the guardian statutes came from. This one has been made simple so it can be worn on this world."

The odd bird dances on his hooves a bit, and makes a happy hissing sound. "Come!" he says, before hopping off into another part of the cave.

After retrieving her things, Tasha just shakes her head as she follows along. At least this was was more comfortable than my first time in Amazonia, she decides as she heads in to the gloom.

The next chamber if filled wall to wall with.. old technology! Panels, displays.. possibly even flight controls.. all stripped from the Garudas. Abdiel pulls out a big cloth sack, and reaches in to retrieve a handfull of.. little hexagonal scales. Chortling, he tries to rub them against Tasha's undersuit!

Tasha just watches the effort with a mix of bemusement and curiosity. "May I see one?" She finally asks after several seconds of effort.

Abdiel reluctantly hands over one of his treasured scales. "Teach it," he asks.

"Hrrm," goes Tasha as she begins inspecting the hexagon this way and that. After several seconds she holds out a hand for more, taking them and taking a seat on a nearby rock. After several minutes, she walks over to the assorted parts and loks around until she spots something. "Can I use these? I'll need some water and a fire."

Minutes later Tasha has asssmbled a small pile of old electronics, ductwork, several lenths of wire, what appear to have once been fluid holding bins, a collection of metal tubing, fan blades, rods, a disassembled alternator, and a selection of tools, all next to jugs of water and a crackling fire. Here she sits herself down to pick up each element and inspecting it before either putting it aside or returning it to its pile. When she seems to have found all of what she's looking for, she begins to work.

First the alternator is cleaned up and spun until Tasha is satisfied with that most of the grit has been cleaned from the rotator. Next, she gathers assorted metal tubing and ducts until she has a collection that don't-quite-fit together. These she takes plyers to and bends, then lays them in the fire until they glow, before carefully sliding them together and then quickly dumping them in to the water.

The process continues for over half an hour, until, finally, Tasha has craeted a makeshift steam tower out of old tubing and ductwork under a cooling tower which, in turn, is set with a series of fans that connect via gears to the alternator. The alternator is then connected to the wiring. When she finally places it over the fire and pours the water, the makeshift contraption begins to turn ... and ...

Krrzzztt! goes the wires, arcing and popping as electricity is generated. Finally, she applies the wires to the scale, now assembles, and watches.

One of the edges of the scale glows slightly, but it's flickering. Abdiel hovers over Tasha's shoulder with wide dichromic eyes. "What.. are you telling it?" he asks.

"I'm trying to make it live again. These things need energy to function, but I don't know how much or what kind to feed them. Creating the right kind of energy in the perfect amounts is hard without the right tools; the soul of these machines is weak on this world." Wishing she had an Expedition tester, she re-examines her alternator and then begins looking at the collected salvage again. This is a component from a military vessel, there has to be redundancy. They made these things for this world, so they would or should have known to make everything accessible and simple. These scales operate on a limited battery though and they're too small for labeling. I need to limit the power before I destroy them. Finding a few parts to help regulate the flow, Tasha tapers down the result and tries again.

This results in a more uniform glow around the edges, and Abdiel clutching her shoulders now. Tasha can feel his excitement since it's poking her in the back. Of course, if she knew what Fred had done to keep her own suit still working (without power or augmentation) it would help.

Hoping the fragments will remember what to do, Tasha lays them flat on a clear rock and pushes them together.

"You do this I marry you," Abdiel coos in Tasha's ear. "Make love all the time! Fat babies!" It isn't terribly clear if he's aroused by Tasha or by the technology.

"The teaching is in the form," Tasha explains as she applies current. When she hears the click, she smiles, offering it up to the shaman. "The shape of the machine dictates its purpose and it's memory. Like letter can be made to words, so can parts be made in to machines. As words come to be strung together to make complex expression, so do machines in concert create something more. If you know the purpose of the compents, you can understand the purpose of the machine, and in knowing the machine, you may yet know the device." She has to admit that she's proud of her work, even if she is distinctly unnerved by the old shaman's attentions -- but she's suffered worse and with less self-esteem backing it. Still ... "I'm sorry, I am already promised to marry someone else."

"They always say that," the shaman complains. "You make me armor suit from scales?"

"I can but it will take a while. Do you have more? And if I do, can I have ... " Tasha skims the entire pile, trying to find what she's really here for: records and flight recorders, satcoms, radios, anything she might be able to salvage and either use now or bring back for analysis.

Things have been sorted by size and shininess. There are sacks of small crystal pieces that might be data crystals, and some of smaller components that the shaman seems to use in divination rituals.

I need an optical reader, and no satcom array or other personal equipment. I wonder where it all went? These look to be entirely from the Garudas ... Tasha gathers up several crystals and peers in to them, searching for damage before returning the pnes with serious physical deformity That done, she turns to the ritual components and begins to examine those, too. What do we have here ... I wonder if the Storm Riders preserved their technology better ...

"This is all," the man insists. "Histories say Sky Gods let us leave, but that we cannot take their God Magic with us. We don't need it."

"Sky Gods?" Tasha asks, looking up as she pauses in her work to reassemble the hexagons. "I've heard that term before -- do you mean the Khattans?"

"Or Rephidim?" Tasha asks a second later as she sifts through the Expedition timeline.

"Ah, that would be Rephidim. I'm not surprised they wanted to keep their technologies to themselves, especially with all the work they had to do. But, they not gods. They were no different from you or me or ... Well, more like me I suppose. Their 'God Magic' is just tech-no-llo-gee, the art of taking pieces of the world and the rules of the world and creating something new -- like these things," Tasha explains, then gestures to the assembled parts. "It is knowledge of making gathered over a very, very long time. I know some of it, which is why I can make this suit."

"We are very different from others, you and I," Abdiel points out, since Tasha is a hybrid and he almost certainly can't fly.

"I suppose we are," Tasha has to agree, suddenly feeling a pang of sadness as she realizes just how much suffering this poor man must have gone through. She can't help but wonder at his insanity: was he always this way, or did the long years of loneliness, isolation, and rejection leave him with nothing left to cling to? Thinking on this, she places what she had thought to take with her back where she found them, returning to work on the hexagonal fragments.

"You don't like those shinies?" Abdiel asks. "I've never let anyone have any, except for Hellas. We were twins! She is so beautiful because I am so ugly."

"I think you will love them more than I can," Tasha replies in a quiet voice as she carefully aligns the pieces and fuses them, one by one with as much care and precision as she can managed with the tools at hand. "I didn't know you two were twins. Hellas is beautiful, yes, but she has forgotten the old ways and sells them for profit. It's not her fault, of course -- she couldn't know. But, I think you do. Maybe I can teach you more. Come and look, I will teach you some of the magic of the Gods." And so she begins to explain what she's doing as best she can simplify, about the steam turbines, the alternator, and why it works together.

She keeps teaching until she's finished with the fragments, finally holding them up as a cloak. "Few things on this world will pierce this cloak, she finishes, then offers it over.

Abdiel takes it with shaking hands. He rubs his cheek against it first, and then.. looks lost. "I don't know clothes," he admits. "How does it work?"

Tasha bites her lip, unable to respond for the several seconds, stunned by the ache in her heart at this poor, wretched man and the fury in her heart of knowing he was abandoned without even the simplest help! "Is this what we've become?" She suddenly asks, ears canting back. "They just ... They left you here, didn't they?"

"Hellas.. wouldn't let them throw me off the cliff," Abdiel says, shrinking a bit. "When I came of age, and had to face the tests.. I could not pass. I could not fly. The elders declared me cursed, but Hellas stood between them and me. The shaman took me in, for few could survive his duties. But I could. So I lived. I have status now."

"/I want to hit them,/" Tasha growls, eyes wide. Realizing she must be scaring the man, she begins pacing back and firth instead. "/I know they live a hard life, but it's not /that/ hard,/" she fumes, throwing her hands up in the air as she makes her way back and firth. "/And of course, /cursed/. We're always /cursed./ Not /different./" She stops in her tracks, too angry to move, pulling in rough breathes through her nose as she clenches and unclenches her fists. She stands there for several seconds, clearly attempting to calm down, and then says, "/I know it's not my place to judge. I know Hellas helped you. But, it's not right./"

"You come from the Sky," Abdiel notes. "Would one such as I be welcome there? Or would I be shunned, or worse: pitied?"

"We never belong, save in the families we make for ourselves." Looking around, Tasha thinks long and hard before she comes to a decision. "But the sky is nothing to us. We go farther. If you fight hard enough, and climb high enough, you can even look down on Sky Gods." Then, she extends her hand. "The JEF needs good people who appreciate the need for family and the value of the past. We are explorers. Would you join us?"

"Join?" Abdiel asks, looking confused. He does take Tasha's hand of course, because.. well, it was extended. "I would stay here though? My life is here. I must train the next shaman, and perform the auguries and blessings."

Tasha inclines her head, reaching to pat the man's hand, "I suppose we can't always leave our duties so easily," she admits, much of the anger having drained out of her voice. "What I did was offer you a chance to see the world and join us. We are a group sponsored by the nations of another world, and we know the secrets of these things," she gestures to the technology that surrounds them, "and the history of our worlds and people -- but we do not know everything. We are always looking for answers. And ... I suppose it doesn't matter at this point." Offering a kind smile, Tasha then releases the man's hand and says, "Please forgive me for tempting you away from the duties you love. But please, take the cloak and my steam turbine."

"You give me your knowledge," Abdiel says, and bows to Tasha. "I am honored. It is not our way to use the magic of the Sky Gods as it was intended. But I will cast your fortune if you like?"

"I would," Tasha replies. She then turns to her steam turbine and begins dissassembling it until it no longer functions, as the man requested. She keeps the altanator in her hand, carrying it back to where she had been seated so she can watch the shaman work.

There is a lot of shaking of cups filled with apparent junk, to start with. Then there is the blowing, the ruffling of feathers.. and the request that Tasha spit in the middle of leather divination circle.

Not unafmiliar with the doings of magical portents, Tasha doesn't hesitate to spit in to the circle.

With sweeping gestures, Abdiel pours the contents of his cups into the circle. It turns into.. a glittery mess, really. Not all the pieces are shiny. And to add to the confusing, Abdiel actually goes in and starts removing some of them. Apparently the location within the circle is important, and stuff that falls outside the designated spaces doesn't count.

That part done, the shaman seems to go into a shiny-trance as he gazes at the spread. The firelight does make some of the pieces appear to be flickering and glowing. "Tell me, what is your journey?" he intones.

Tasha is sure she's heard of this sort of fortune telling before, but that was back on Rephidim and in cities where superstitious sailors will do anything for a measure of luck, herself included. Here in the mountains, she's sure this is the way it's supposed to be. That the man seems to go in to a trance makes the mysticim feel all too familiar. "I am looking for the Origin Marker of Vartans."

"The past.. the past from before Past and Present had meaning," Abdiel intones, moving his hands in sweeping gestures over the divination circle. "Close your eyes," he then says. "When you open them a moment later, remain focused on the first shiny to grab your attention, and point it out to me."

Tasha does so, clearing her mind of distraction as she had been taught to do in other such rituals. When her mind has grown silent, she opens her eyes.

The first thing that jumps out at her is a seven-pointed star-shaped piece of metal, near the center.

Tasha's finger darts, point out the seven-pointed star-shaped shinny, close to the center. "That one."

Abdiel sweeps his talons through the mix now, dividing it up further from the central piece. When this is finished, he says, "/The search, to the East where the Sun rises./" He motions to the patch on the left. "The journey, West where the Sun sets./" He motions to the patch on the right. "/Fortune, which binds them. Good to the North, Bad to the South./" Now he leans over and studies the patches closely.

Tasha takes careful note of the proceedings up until she realizes she should be literally taking careful notes, removing her pad of paper and taking notes that way. It strikes her as she watches, that there is so much more to magic than she ever thought -- or wanted to think -- possible. Like the sciences, it seems to have a variety of fields and employments -- something she also adds a note about.

"Hmmmm," Abdiel goes as he clacks his clawtips together. "Fortune favors you, as does the searth," he notes, pointing out key bits of shiny debris as if Tasha would know the significance. "The Journey.. is confused. Something unexpected. But this..." Here, the man traces a pattern between the Search patch, Bad Fortune and Journey. "This.. is difficult to interpret. You will encounter Death, but.. as an object or person or place. Not as an event."

"I am relieved no one will be dying on our journey. We have been told that the shadow-men -- 'demons' reported to inhabit these lands and trade with the Storm Riders -- may have the artifact, that it was traded to them long ago as some sort of peace treaty. We're currently preparing to go find the Storm Riders and determine from their records if this story is true and, if so, how to meet these shadow-people -- assuming they let us try, of course," Tasha elaborates as she studies the circle. "Could the shadow-men be this 'death incarnate'? Or the Storm Rider Clan have perished?" Thinking a moment longer, Tasha realizes one more 'death' that it could be, and adds, "Or does the term 'Bird of Hermes' mean anything to you?"

"Only if it relates to the guardians who brought us here," Abdiel says. "The one which led our clan was Heirax, and the one which led the Storm Riders was Daidalon. Of course, we were one Clan then, but distance severed our ties."

"It relates to them. You see, I know the name of the Clan you both once were a part of: the Harbinger Clan. This Clan had been seperated from most of their tools and ... guardians before they came to this place, and these things were lost until my fellows and I discovered them. Among these artifacts is a giant of steel, who moves, and may fly, as tall as a hill and mighty. This giant was associated with the artifact I seek, and through it, so am I. We are known as the Bird of Hermes by ancient prohecy-code, but the name seems to have a deeper meaning I am still deciphering," Tasha explains.

"Prophecy," Abdiel says, and then gives Tasha a shrewd look. "May I keep some of your hair and feathers and a clipping from your tail, or a hoof scraping?" he asks.

Reaching back, Tasha plucks one of her feathers with a wince, then offers it over. "Be my guest." She says with a smile.

It takes some time to collect the rest, mainly because of Tasha's boot. "Thank you very much, on behalf of my Clan," Abdiel says, sealing away the clippings and feathers into a clay jar. "I don't suppose you could do just one more thing for me?" he asks.

"Could I rest my head upon your bare bosom for but a moment?" the shaman asks. "You do not have feathers. Such novelty!"

Tasha peers at the shaman a moment, but finds she can't really be angry with him, and so she just shrugs and smiles. "Hokay."

The shaman probably doesn't get a lot of personal contact, and seems to act as if he's just encountered the most comfortable pillows ever. He almost looks sweet, until the drool starts..

Tasha just pats the man's head and closes her eyes. If she can make another outsider feel a little better at her expense, then it's not too much of a burden. A little kindness can go a long way, and what does she need a haughty ego for?