Tasha wakes up feeling pretty refreshed. The illusion of the dining hall is gone, revealing the inside of a monstrous skull once more. The sound of splashing is coming from outside, which may be why she's the only one currently in the camp.
Tasha stretches, yawns, then rolls over in a quick flop before getting up. When she travels like this she tries to be prepared for ambushes ad sudden emergencies, so she never fully undress, and keeps her things close. Once she's dressed and has her stuff, she steps out. "Good morning everyone."
The lowest of the pools is where everyone is. Lila and Kai are washing clothes in the nude (Kai's in particular had a lot of gore on them), Wulfgaar is playing with the goose, and Brother Bone is standing knee-deep and facing the rising sun as Lila tends to his clothes as well.
"Good morning," Lila greets. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah, pretty much." Tasha's own clothes are advanced travel technology so she doesn't need to wash them as much, which is fine as she had enough of washing clothes during her childhood. Fetching the water is fine, except for her it meant flying a mile out to find some, and then having to wash where the crew wasn't. She used to be charged with cleaning the crew's clothes until 'accidents' kept occurring, which along with her 'accidental' cooking, eventually lead to her becoming a drover. She and her mother butted heads a lot back then.
"We should be to the city by this evening, if nothing gets in the way," Lila notes as she wrings out a robe. "The land should start to get more interesting soon."
"That's good. Wastelands are kind of a waste, and badlands are bad. They're aptly named." Tasha sits down on a rock and perches her head on a hand, watching Wulfgar play with Anklebiter, whom she didn't know could be played with so much as fought against.
The play involves a lot of splashing water towards the goose, and the goose complaining. It must be safe, since Wulfgaar's tender bits are in biting range.
"Nice thing is that clothes will dry as we wear them," Lila says, then looks back to check on Brother Bone. "Someone needs to poke him."
It still makes Tasha laugh. Somehow dangerous things at play are endearing to her, which probably explains why she likes small dragon, and dragons in general for that matter. It may also partly explain her inclination to large machines, but she suspects that one's more complex as it is for dragons, and she's trying too hard not to think about 'large machines' right now. "I'll poke the priest, it's more symbolic if I do it."
And so Tasha gets up and, quite literally, walks over and pokes the priest. "Tasha to Bone, it's time to go. Over."
The draconian is slow to open his eyes. They're black with a sliver of white around the slit pupil. "Has everyone finished their purification?" he asks Tasha.
"Their what now?" Tasha isn't ever sure she feels pure, she isn't sure if that's self judgment or internalizing the judgments of others. It probably doesn't help she's some part Shadow-thing and has a broken despair-shattered ansible in her somewhere, either, she decides.
"Purification in the sacred waters," the reptilian priest explains. "One cannot enter the Holy City otherwise. Or I could perform the ritual of purification on you."
"Yeah maybe do the latter, I don't need to wash my clothes like the others do." Tasha then sits down expectantly, brows up.
The priest puts a taloned hand atop Tasha's head, and asks, "Are you fireproof?"
Tasha opens her mouth, pauses, frowns, tilts her head, then her ears go askew. "I've had this body for a few weeks now, and I haven't been set on fire yet. So lets say probably not."
Brother Bone nods and goes to the pool to scoop up some water in his hands. He chants over it as he returns to Tasha, then flicks droplets in her face between saying phrases in a very guttural language. They don't burn though, so she's probably alright. With a final flick, the priest says, "That should be enough to be safe. Have you committed any crimes for which you have not atoned?"
Tasha touches her face just to be sure. She's never really sure how demonic she is at any one time, which is disconcerting now that she thinks more about the fact. "Uhhh, define crime. My existence is very, um, extra-territorial. I -- we -- operate independently outside of many conventional civilizations, and they all have their own fiddily laws. And are we including natural laws, mathmatical laws, magical laws, that kind of thing?"
"Have you stolen things, or committed murder or assault without atonement?" Brother Bone clarifies.
"Uhhhhh," goes Tasha, who really has to think hard about this one. "I did once inadvertently cause a planet to be destroyed, but I was a guy then and probably cursed, and no one told me that was going to happen. I killed my ex-lover, but she was a pirate and we both knew that was the way she had to go, so it's probably okay all around. I've killed a number of Shadow-beings and I may have committed genocide against small slew of sentient robots, who I was told were quite dangerous." When she really thinks about it, she's not as bad as she had thought she was, much of what she did had a good cause and she hasn't gone about stealing or killing willy-nilly, and so she wags her tail. "I killed the last Shadow-being because a child bit and and it was trying to kill him. Also, it was trying to sabotage our reality."
"Would you say these killings served justice, then?" Brother Bone asks.
"If keeping a universe safe against a very, very unpleasant end is justice, probably? I mean to the Ogdoad, who are a pantheon of gods, it's likely quite annoying, and they're gods of order. I guess it depends whose justice we're talking about." And so Tasha shrugs. "It's one of those subjective questions that make fighting things less fun."
"Killing those who intend to kill others is just in the eyes of Bahumat," Brother Bone explains.
"Well then that was easy. Yes, it is just by that metric." Tasha wags her tail, it's nice for her to think she's being very just. Part of her wants to parade the fact around Nora.
"Then this purification is over," Brother Bone says. "I will see if my clothes are ready now."
"Hopefully they havn't committed any crimes in your absence." Tasha pops up, brushes herself off, and follows along, tail still wagging.
Lila holds out the still damp clothing to the naked priest, who puts them on without hesitation. But being scaly probably means the dampness won't make a difference, comfort-wise.
Sadly dampness is the bane of all canines, and makes her smell weird besides. This is why she got the clothes she did, aside from all the other conveniences. "Everyone ready, then?"
It takes some time still to pack up the camp. Wulfgaar smells like wet leather, and Lila smells like wet fox. Kai doesn't smell like anything, and she and her clothes are dry anyway. Then it's back onto the road into the mountains. The higher they go, the more the landscape seems to change. Rock outcroppings begin to take on the silhouettes of dragon heads, and veins of precious metal can be seen in the exposed stone. The road itself improves as well, becoming firmer. Eventually it becomes a bit like dragon scales in texture. It's still rather arid though, with scrub being the only sort of vegetation.
Tasha finds it hard not to gawk at every shiny outcropping and vein, so she eventually pops out some sunglasses and slides them on. The shiny lust isn't as bad for her as in her previous incarnation, but it's still bad, and she suspects she's not allowed to pocket a hand full of silver. "I'm sensing a theme in the landscape. I wonder what it could be."
"It is the influence of the great dragon," Lila claims. "There shouldn't be any guardian beasts though, since we're being escorted by a High Kobald Priest."
"Well that's good. Do they respect you, or are you generating some sort of Bahamut-field?" Tasha turns and peers at the priest over her sunglasses. "And is it really wise to call a dragon 'great'? They have big egos as it is."
"A think a god counts as Great," Lila notes. There's bits of glare above the rocks as the switchback road reaches the final bend.
"Not some of the gods I know. I mean they're great in power, and probably great in other things, but a lot of them are awful. Nodens seems okay, and Wolf isn't a god and wouldn't appreciate me calling him one, but he's kind of like a god and I like him." She pauses, frowning ahead. "I think I see something on the horizon."
As they turn the bend, the road widens into a plaza before the city gate. The wall is high and shiny white, with no apparent seams, but lots of gold accents. There are many groups in the plaza, but no wagons, carts or drays. Everyone is on foot, and some are dressed in pilgrim style robes. Tasha flashes back to her first glimpse of Dianus, but this is built to a much larger scale.
"Very tasteful," Tasha remarks of the approaching city. "Similar to other 'classical' styles with old cultures that want to be impressive without being overly showy."
Brother Bone takes them past lines of those seeking admission, and goes straight to the gate. Another Kobald in silver armor stands to attention, and says, "Welcome home, Brother Bone." After noting those with him, he asks, "Are they your charges?"
"I'm short, so I'm like half-charge," Tasha says with a broad grin and a wag of her tail.
"Lila is a potential Acolyte," Brother Bone says, gesturing to the Kitsune. "These others have aided me in my travels, and will be passing through."
The guard holds his crystal-tipped spear out, passing it over the group. "All purified," he confirms, and opens a smaller side gate for them. Brother Bone leads the way through it.
"Yep, all purified. In we go." Tasha does walk a bit faster, clearly more than a little concerned she might be called back, perhaps at the last second. "So what's to do in this city?"
Through the gate, Tasha is met with a city built on tiers, with a massive cathedral at the pinnacle. The lowest tier seems to be the merchant quarter, but the buildings are still ornate. There are also large tunnels leading deeper, and massive stairs leading up to the next higher tier. The place is busy at this level, with Kobalds (high and low) bustling about. Some of the wealthier sort have precious gems embedded into their horns, even. The dress is very colorful, save of the pilgrims and clerical classes. There is a lot of gold and silver on display.
"There are inns and other establishments deeper inside, as well as the terminal," Brother Bone explains.
"This city would pass the Vartan aesthetic test with flying colors. Also, it has a lot of flying colors. Which is nice." Tasha stands around looking around, trying to take it all in before she inevitably has to move on again, as with most places she visitants. "So what's 'the terminal'? Is that the portal hub?"
"It is for travel, yes," Brother Bone says. "It is at the center, so you just need keep heading down."
"Should we just keep going or stay over night? Kai, how much further?" Tasha turns to Kai, ears up. "If we're staying I want to look around, the city's probably quite safe."
"I've never been here before," Kai notes. "In that case we should find an inn, that way there is time to explore and we can get going early in the morning."
"This time I'm letting you find the inn, I found the last one and it was great. Instead, I'm going to find, I don't know, is there somewhere I can talk about morale questions and justice? Everywhere, right? Is there a place I can do that with dedicated persons who specialize in this kind of thing?" Tasha looks around a moment after asking, suspect it'll be a big and audaciously scholarly sort of affair, the kind with carved pillars and steps.
"The next tier is the scholars ring," Brother Bone notes. "Many students are eager to discuss the philosophy of Justice."
"Back to school then. I knew I wasn't escaping it that easily." Tasha then just starts heading off in that directions. "These steps make me feel extra-short. I could bite them, but that would chip a tooth. Maybe I should talk about how unjust it is.. " She doesn't even wait for confirmation.
Brother Bone and Lila join Tasha, as they are going up anyway. The stairs have a lot of traffic, and of course putting in elevators would be blasphemous or something. Once at the top, there are no carts offering cool drinks either. But at least there is shade, as instead of buildings everything is pushed back into the wall, beyond a colonnade of pillars that are also abstract statues of noble looking if featureless reptilians. But there are also hanging gardens, and it looks cool back there as well. Plenty of beings are wandering in and out, or clustered around someone orating on a plinth. The students tend to wear an over-the-shoulder sort of robe, regardless of species or gender.
"Are food carts unjust or something? Maybe people would find justice more attractive if it wasn't so stuffy," Tasha remarks as she looks around, then she points (probably unnecessarily for Brother Bone) the shaded area looks shady. In the the low light sense, not n the criminal enterprise sense. I'm looking for someone old and wise who can talk on justice and obligation on something of a definite level, someone with experience, and I'm only tangentially interested in a debate about it."
"You probably want one of the Hermetic Order then," Brother Bone says. "They're tend to be long in the tooth, and have actually acted as judges. They tend to keep to the more comfortable areas, and there are usually food stalls where you can acquire an offering."
"My mouth needs an offering, so that sounds doubly good. Also Hermetic order, where have I.. " Tasha snaps the fingers of her left hand, actually snaps them, which can be difficult with paws. She learned how to do it during her brief stint as a Human, and because Sharron apparently intuits how to do it. "Hermes. hermetic. That's interesting. Did you know one of the Hermes was grooming me to be the next Hermes?"
"I'm unfamiliar with the tale," Brother Bone notes, looking at Tasha expectantly.
Tasha spreads her hands wide. "Thoth was my mentor, right? Well, he was at some point called Hermes, he even has the staff and everything, and he taught magic to the people of Terra. Well, he was one of the ones who did it. Stuffy guy, made of orange fire, shapeshifter, alchemist. Anyway, he wanted me to take over the role and be the next Hermes. I declined, because I didn't feel much like a deity; I'm not even sure what or who I am these days."
"Interesting," Brother Bone says. "Where is this aspect of Hermes now?"
Tasha's expression falls. "I don't know. He, his father, and my Titan, my Melchior, went and fought beside my other mentor at the time. Currently, the whereabouts of all of them are unknown. I was hoping we might find them along the way, but there was nothing."
"These are not lands of conflict," Brother Bone claims. "Where was this battle?"
"I don't really know. My mentor liked to make their own world, so when it might have collapsed, they could have ended up anywhere. I was brought there through a guide." Tasha gives a little, helpless shrug. "They didn't need me for the battle and they were right, so I left. I had just been fighting to stop the battle before that, and I won, but I was in rough shape from that and.. " Her eyes drift away, anxiously. "Other things."
"Hmm, perhaps one of the monks will be better able to understand," Brother Bone says. "If you head inward, listen for the sound of running water and the call of birds."
"Can-do. I guess you two are heading else where? Are you joining up, Lila?" Tasha looks to the kitsune curiously.
"Brother Bone wants to introduce me to some people," Lila notes. "My abilities may be useful in creating morality plays and tests."
"That could be useful. Where I'm from we use simulated environments and machines to create similar tests, and they work very well." Tasha inclines her head to both. "I'd better go, daylight's wasting. Good luck on your interview Lila."
"Perhaps we'll meet again, Tasha," the kitsune says. "If not, may you find what you're looking for on your quest."
"Same to you, good luck to both of you." Tasha offers a somewhat sad smile, a little wave, and then she turns and heads off before she lets herself get too emotional. She has people to find and a new city to navigate, it wouldn't do for her to lose focus now.
There are plenty of people to ask for directions at least, if she can get their attention. Some of them even have hooves.
So Tasha just keeps trying different people while listening for water and bird song, wboth of which seem like they'd be common place to her, but she doesn't know the city and understands it has a memetic quality.
The last person she asks, a Cervani-sort of deer woman, bids her to follow. "I'm heading that way. They have the best fruit," she claims, and leads deeper into the structure. There are wells of sunlight, which don't seem to have a source, and often entire groves of vegetation, some with pools. Eventually they come to one such grove, which has fruiting vines, trees and bushes. Her guide helpfully points out the plums. "They like those," she claims. "I think because they have pits."
"Crunchy, or metaphorical." And she's rhetorical. She grabs a few, enough to fill her upturned tunic, making a makeshift basket she can hold steady with her left hand. This gives her enough for a few offerings, and also for herself in case the search goes long. Plums are not meat, but as fruit goes, she thinks they do well for themselves.
"You will find the sages in the Ibis glade," the deer woman explains, and points deeper into the structure. "You'll have to get past the birds, but they don't usually bite or peck, due to the long, curved bills."
"As a fellow pseudo-bird I'm sure we'll get along splendidly." Tasha tosses the woman a plum. "Well thanks for the guidance, off to my next guide. I hope your search is fruitful."
"Was that a pun?" the girl asks as she picks fruit.
Tasha's expression is very blank. She is equally blank as she takes a bite of plum.
It's very juicy and pulpy, and makes her chin feel sticky almost immediately.
"Ahma go nouw." Tasha thumbs behind her, then has to awkwardly pull out a handkerchief while holding fruit in both hands, to clean herself as she walks.
At least she can spot another sunlit (though sunless) area ahead, and hears and smells running water.
Tasha angles that way and has, by this point, cleaned her face and eaten her plum. Or so she hopes with the former and knows with the latter. And she has to admit this place is pretty, and unlike the last holy city she was in, much more welcoming. Star City, she decides, could learn a lot from this place.
There's an actual river here, which seems to run in a circle around the edge of the grove. Large black and white birds run their curved bills through it, while some watch Tasha warily. Towards the center is sandy area, with several smooth rocks suitable for sitting on. On one of them is a green scaled High Kobold. It isn't wearing anything, but gives the impression of being female. The skin under the scales looks a bit loose.
And so that's where Tasha goes, the center to the High Kobold. She avoids the birds, having headquite enough of Anklebiter's constant threat and wondering if the birds don't have some sort of mystical sense that would make them want to peck her. Still, she has to admit Anklebiter can be adorable, and she's grown fond of the goose, so maybe these birds aren't so bad, or so she hopes. Anklebiter would still ankle bite her, after all, no matter how much her opinion has changed.
The seated reptile opens her eyes when Tasha approaches, but remains silent.
"Plum time!" Tasha then leans over and places a plum in front of the reptile from where she's seated herself in the sand before her. Tasha clearly has many more, but she only offers one to start as part of an impromptu test she just not created and doesn't entirely understand yet. It will teach her something.
"Is it?" the Kobold asks, and bends over slightly to examine the plum.
"It is. Oh look, it is again." Tasha puts down another plum. She still has about seven left.
"Are you offering me those plums?" the woman asks. "The light here never changes, so if you are trying to construct a sundial you may be wasting your efforts."
"If you want them." Tasha thinks asking for all her plums is a very dragon thing for the woman to do, and so she must be the real thing. She puts the rest of the plums down and then adds, "In return for questions."
"How many questions should I ask you?" the woman replies, slightly canting her head.
"None, unless you need to as part if the questions I want to ask you," is Tasha's answer.
"That sounds more like you want answers then," the woman notes.
"If they are answers. Sometimes they're just more questions," responds the red woman.
"Perhaps you could state the general topic of the questions," the woman suggests. "I cannot promise the answers will also be questions, however."
"If you did I wouldn't ask them of you." Tasha leans back a little, tilts her head, and states, "I have questions about ethics, morality, and justice, and especially using certain means to accomplish goals that are ostensibly just, and that I likely could not accomplish without added powers, versus leaving the deed unaccomplished at great loss.It might be easier if I just state the questions now that you know the general gist."
The woman opens her hand in a 'proceed' sort of gesture.
"First, what do you think of repaying a dark and probably deeply malicious deity if that deity saved your existence and the existence of your closest friends and family, yet at the time you were not entirely yourself due to a curse that undermined your existence. Should someone try to repay the deity, should they abandon the deity at risk and in betrayal, or is there some other option. As a side note, the deity provides additional and useful support without asking more; the support may in itself be the burden." And then Tasha has to take a breath because that was a lot to get out. She's not even sure she explained the situation correctly.
"Is this debt of the physical, mental, or spiritual in nature?" the sage asks.
"Mental, possibly physical and spiritual depending on how you take unmaking a curse and if the entity could reverse or punish a change of heart," Tasha explains.
"The Principle of Polarity is the foundation of Justice and morality," the sage replies. "Guilty and Innocent, Good and Evil. Both justice and morality vary between the three realms. So, there is obligation and charity: when performing these boons for you, was obligation on your part explicitly noted as a price for the boons?"
Tasha tries to think; it was a long time ago for her, and she's gone through the wringer since. In addition, she wasn't exactly herself back then, though she supposes she is now herself again from back then, through Sasha, so she wasn't herself but that self that wasn't exactly her is now a her that isn't exactly her, but is her, as an extension. None of this makes the question any more simple. "He asked me to do something, as I recall. To destroy an entity, one I'd have met with, released, or destroyed anyway."
"Is the entity in question guilty of an offense worth being destroyed for?" the sage asks.
"I is the creation-servant of the Ogdoad, deities of order and hunger who planted it to cultivate and prepare my universe for eventual harvest of all the souls within. The entity may or may not want this outcome, several have not, but they also have no choice according to their understanding and I have found no way to free or corrupt them to act otherwise." Tasha plants ear head on a hand, frowning.
"It is hard to pass judgment on slaves or animals," the sage explains. "One of the defining aspects of guilt is intent, which is difficult to ascribe to a being that cannot refuse to perform a task. It brings up a question of innocence as well: is the offense committed by the slave, or by the master who is using the slave to enact their will? Without meeting with the entity and determining their willingness to indulge in heinous activities, judgment should be withheld. If they are incapable of feeling guilt then the situation becomes more complicated."
"That does complicate matters. The deity who aided me has been somewhat insistent, and is capable of being more so. I also have a friend hijacked by a similar entity that is pushing her towards confrontation with the entity I am supposed to destroy. I fear if I wait too long the deity I answer to, and the curse upon my friend, will fester to the point there will be severe problems. It's further problematic that the entity is likely trapped or imprisoned in a city that feeds upon its essence to create marketable goods, and the city itself could be in danger from our infiltration to this entity." Tasha lets out a long sigh. "And so I'm left what to do. Neither outcome is welcome. Side with my friend, who may not be compelled to harm the target, and the deity, and risk a city and whatever menace destroying the target causes. And yet I've destroyed other, more hostile, entities like it. Two, in fact."
"You will need to understand the full situation, then," the sage says. "The nature of the entity also plays into which kind of justice it deserves. Physical, as in releasing it from bondage. Mental, based on how it perceives the situation it is in. And lastly Spiritual, which is usually self-imposed, but may be unavoidable. Spiritual justice can be the most harsh."
"I see. I don't know how to do that. Before I just acted on what I had to go off of, and my feelings, and the needs of the situation and tried my best. But, well, as I've continued to do this it's been harder to understand how I feel, or feel anything, to be the crusader people need me to be and make all the right choices with all the emotion and care they all deserve. I'm not who I was when I started, and I may not have the where-with-all to make a complete choice. If I hesitate too long I may not have the answers and their lack and the weight of it may drag me down until I no longer care what the answer is." Tasha spreads her hands. "I can't create empathy and understanding from nothing, endlessly. I've tried to understand and grow and been killed and beaten in to pieces because of it. What happens if I chose based on incomplete information?"
"If you have doubts, you may be subject to Mental or Spiritual Justice," the sage notes. "These are self-imposed, and stem from a feeling of guilt over potentially condemning an innocent."
"Then who inflicts justice on the universe, for presenting questions that cannot be answered?" Tasha now looks angry, looking up and eying the wall, trying very hard not to eye the woman. "Justice seems a bit useless if the universe upon which it's based is not inherently just. It means that injustice will occur naturally, and unjustly, it will be carried by an innocent who must carry it unjustly. Or nothing is done, and there is injustice and loss, but the innocent is freed from guilt. Except then they are not. So in that sense there will always e unbalanced injunctive carried by someone. The just thing, then, would be to recognize the injustice upon the innocent, in this case me and the target, and find us innocent by weight of an unjust situation." And so Tasha cocks an eyebrow, looking back.
"Justice is a concept, not a law of nature," the sage states. "It up to us to recognize and enforce it. For some, Spiritual Justice is a law, one that punishes those who cross a line they know should not be crossed. Likewise, guilty and innocence are external constructs in the physical world. We do not judge ourselves guilty or innocent. Others judge us, based on the rules of that particular moment or within that particular society. You wish to pass judgment, and carries a certain risk. But until you have more than a gut feeling to go on, judgment is premature. Are there those you have encountered that you know to have done objectively bad things, but that you could not judge?"
Tasha considers that. Horus did something to Vartans, but he also went against Atum's wishes. She was supposed to punish him, jail him, and force him, but she couldn't and in the end didn't, she didn't even try and stop his freedom. She wasn't even sure what to say to him after a time, and was too worn down to talk to him when they parted. Blackwings she could judge, feeling the woman went too far. She understood to a degree the hate and anger, and felt Blackwings deserved some blood in turn, but she went beyond a vengefulness attitude and hate to become something worse than hat had poisoned her, losing all hope in anything save herself, and not even that, she suspects. And she can see why someone would think that, she's seen enough of the world to understand that line of thinking. The entire inner circle of the Bridge on Sinai has lied to people for centuries. The people of the Expedition changed, became sexist and judgmental, and she doesn't understand how or why. Even the Ogdoad are uncertain, they came to exist as a hunger and simply are what they are, eternally feasting. Eternally malicious, but also, just what they are. And then there's Nora's ghost who could have made any number of previous versions of her, all to accompany that most important of tasks. These she tells to the old woman in hope of an answer.
"Have you killed for meat?" the sage asks her instead. "And if so, are you morally guilty for killing a non-sapient animal?"
"Yes, and probably yes," Tasha answers, without hesitation, as there is no reason in her mind to wait. "I've eaten plants, too. That plum was alive until we ate it. I've killed living machines, and maybe a living world indirectly."
"But are those things your peers?" the sage asks. "Did you understand how they thought or acted, or were such things too far above or too far below you?"
"The latter, they were beyond me. Even animals are, I don't know what it's like to be them, even when mine were split from me, or when I was a spirit animal." Tasha remembers being Shadow-Eyes, and later, Eyes-of-the-End-in-Shadow, but they are not animals. "They may be incomprehensible, no matter how much I try to understand. I have tried understanding machines by simulation their existence, and I know more, but not all."
The sage says, "Then perhaps you should not dwell overmuch on the deaths, deliberate or otherwise, of entities whose existence you cannot fathom. Doing otherwise may lead down a labyrinth of unanswerable questions. Although seeking out similar beings and asking your questions of them may but the issue to rest, one way or another."
Tasha flicks her tail in to her hands and rubs it, considering. "That might help," she concedes after a moment of thought. "The two I've spoken to at length seemed sad but accepting. One wanted to be ended eventually, the other knew more than one of its futures ended in its death. I suppose it always be living every timeline, so maybe it's already dead, even as it's already alive."
"Entities whose awareness extends to higher planes are often difficult to comprehend," the kobold nods, and then shifts her tail slightly. "Death may not mean the same thing to them. But being mindful of ending such entities is not a bad thing, just as it is not for ending mortal lives, sapient or otherwise."
"There was a time not so long ago I viewed every entity that had something like a mind as a person, whatever it's nature, however different. " And so Tasha frowns. "I've become more cynical and less empathetic with time, and other things with it. But not all."
"Personhood is difficult to ascribe to higher beings," the sage notes. "It implies a capacity for free will, which is generally lacking the higher you go. And likewise the lower you go, but usually for different reasons."
"Rules and restrictions, control one way or another. If not people, then what am I destroying, exactly?" Tasha tilts her head and lets her tail flick out of her hands. "They're not like weather, I suppose gods may be the spirits of things, but most of the ones I've met are reflections or incarnations, some are what they know. I suppose Thotep is a pillar of reality, and if he were destroyed something terrible would happen, but many others simply pass from the world without knowable consequence."
"They have their roles, and they are bound to play them," the sage explains. "It is a consequence of power when it is an essential part of a being's existence. No free will when you are what you can do."
"The limit of self becomes the limit of their reach, while others can dream of what may be, reshape their inner selves." Tasha looks around for a moment, then plops her head on her hand. "Are what you know, are what you can do. I suppose that's part of why they want souls and knowledge, to expand the limit of their reach, and therefore, themselves."
"Sometimes being able to see the right path forward means you are bound to follow it: any other choice would be unthinkable," the sage says. "But ignorance allows for flexibility, when you can only make choices based on what you know. Although if you go lower on the sapience scale, where survival does not allow for choice, or time to decide, then free will becomes a curse. Be glad to be in the middle somewhere, where you can make choices, and those choices have meaning."
"Now I can also claim my lack of knowledge and direction is actually flexibility." Tasha cracks a rather dry smile. "That's enough of that I think, I have a good enough picture now. new question: is it acceptable to use dark power for a good cause? We can probably move past what 'dark' and 'good' mean, since I assume you'll either say they're subjective or base the answer on your divine teachings. So, when the cause would consider the tool to be dark, I suppose."
The sage tilts her head slightly. "Power is power," she advises. "The source and the cost may be called good or dark. Dark power tends to be destructive or corrupting in nature, but that does not mean destruction can't be used for good, so long as it is controlled."
"I feel like Gabriel would make a joke there." Tasha smiles again, more with more energy. "Well, it has been useful, at least. Does this apply to summoning demons? to combat demons? Or for any reason, I suppose. And other entities as well."
"It depends on what you're willing to pay," the sage says. "The more power you get, the more beholden to the entity you may become - which leads back to issue of with great power comes limited choices."
"Yes, that is a problem. And if I become more powerful myself, the same problem in a different way. What to do." Tasha taps the side of her jaw with a finger, head still on her hands. "I have a tool which can teach me a great many things at my mentor's behest. She had great power and gained more, but it came with attention and designs, and when she got more it imprisoned her. Now I don't know what it means for her, but she teaches me. I wonder what she'd think of this discussion."
"Tools are meant to be used," the kobold notes. "So be wary. Many a warrior has picked up an enchanted, sapient sword which made them addicted to victory - until the day they realized it was the sword itself manipulating them to go into battle in the first place."
"The most useful and important thing about such a tool is that you can put it down without effort," the sage adds.
"The 'sword' does really seem to enjoy a certain kind of mischief, I wonder if its help is some kind of test, or the best my mentor could provide while she's out," Tasha ruminates. She taps her chin some more and nods. "I just don't know when to. When enough is enough, what tools to use. I suppose that's why I'm on this trip, to figure out what's 'enough'."
"Are you seeking a mighty foe to test your mettle against?" The sage asks, scaly face inscrutable. "That is, after all, the purpose of may adventurers who come to this plane."
"I think I was for a while, then I killed a few, and then one killed me. And then another terrible thing happened, and now I just feel tired all the time. Destroying a great foe doens't move me, fighting isn't as, not fun but moving maybe, as moving as it was. As I've destroyed and been destroyed, as I've seen the complexity, and the pain, and maybe worse, the fragility, the weight of it has dragged me down." Tasha then shakes her head. "I'm here to destroy a herd of demigods and their patron pantheon, because they endanger my reality."
"So you seek knowledge, or perhaps the patronage of a more powerful entity," the sage suggests.
"Yes, more or less. I seem to have misplaced a number of my more powerful entities as well, and I was hoping to find them along the way." Tasha tilts her ehad, but keeps it on her hand. "I don't suppose you've seen a metal giant in the form of a gryphon or hippogryph, a hippogryph male in shiny pants, Horus or Thoth around, have you?"
"I am sure I would have noticed someone in shiny pants enter my meditation pit," the sage says. "But even I would have heard of a metal giant, if one had passed near."
"That's unfortunate, I suppose I need to keep looking. Maybe my search one way will help in the other." Tasha sniffs, then glances towards the light. "I suppose I've taken up enough of your time. I should get going, I'm not staying in the city long."
"Perhaps you find information on those you seek in the undercity, if you are just passing through," the sage says. "Most travelers are found there."
"Then that's my next destination." Tasha rises, and gives the sage a respectful nod. "Thank you for your advice and your insight."
"Good fortune in your quest," the sage replies. "May you stay balanced."
"That's the trick isn't it." Tasha has certainly felt unbalanced before, and she thinks someone called her unhinged at some point. She gives a wave and then heads off in to the city, and from there, the undercity.
It's much cooler in tunnel that angles down toward the roots of the mountain. There is also a lot more traffic of people coming and going. Pools of the artificial (magical?) sunlight make for a place of stark shadows, and they're usually where people are sitting on benches to smoke, converse or eat food from one of the many carts. The species seem more diverse down here as well, and the undercity proper is still further down.
Tasha thinks it's a much nicer undercity than the version back home, which also had sunlight and the rest, but had a far seedier quality she didn't recognize until traveling more in life. She keeps walking, further content in that she's found somewhere she doens't stand out in, or at least doesn't seem to.
There are shrines along the way, but once the floor levels out the city proper is entered, with larger light-pools and not a few fountains. It isn't as noisy as expected, despite the huge vaulted ceiling being ideal for echoes. There are various shops and restaurants, and of course inns. And somewhere, the faint sounds of metal being hammered.
Tasha ponders where to investigate first. She may hit the inn eventually anyway, once they retire for the night. She doens't know the city well enough to know where else adventures might pass, but many adventurers are here for glory, and glory often means weaponry, so she heads in the direction of the hammering.
This leads Tasha to an area with more shops featuring mechanical toys and tools, but the hammering itself comes from a spot carved out of the wall. There are forges and swarthy looking blacksmiths, but also a fairly large dragon with silver, black and gold scales. And brass, but that's added, as the the left foreleg and wing are brass-clad clockwork looking mechanisms, much more exposed with the plating removed in places. There is brass plating over the left ribcage as well, and the exposed mechanisms are being attended to by several lesser kobolds about the size of Kavis.
Tasha takes some time to appraise these things. She isn't sure if it's some new found self confidence, being jaded, or being over such trivialities as worrying too much about what people think, but maybe her conversation has reminded her of who she is and what she's done, and it makes her feel like a rock in a storm, or maybe a storm in a rock. And so she stands there and quite without any embarrassment looks at this and that, including the dragon, like some sort of traveling inspector or regional assessor.
The dragon does notice Tasha, and turns its head slightly. "I've not seen someone like you before, and I have traveled to many realms," it says. There's an impression of femininity, albeit of a draconian sort. This dragon is far too large to be considered dainty.
Tasha likes that about dragons, it's something also present in Vartans and Tasha did not grow up associating daintiness with femininity nor the female form, it's something that came later from association and absorption of memories. "Hello. I'm Tasha, and I'm the only one." She's got other selves of course, but they're something else, and she's their effective core. It's not quite the same. "And you are? I'm also not familiar with clockwork.. We'd call them cybernetic prosthetics." Tasha's sure Katie would appreciate clockwork arms and legs, at least until her hair got caught in them.
"Gwyndrael Stormborn," the dragon introduces herself. "The only one left, or the only one so far?" she then asks.
"The only one so far. I was made recently, after I died." Tasha has to look up, which isn't unusual, to look the dragon in the eyes. "That's a mighty fancy name. I like it."
"Fancy?" Gwyndrael seems a bit surprised, and chuckles. "Just means I was born during a storm. And I don't know if my prosthetics should be considered clockwork if they don't involve clocks. Despite the need for regular maintenance, I've gotten very accustomed to them over the centuries."
"It's fancy to me. Where I come from names are more banal, at least in certain areas. Devoid of meaning and not very impact. I might not be describing them well." And so Tasha shrugs, as if this burden were not really her's and despite starting to talk about it it's no longer her responsibility. "So you've had them a long time. I had a hand and half a face from someone else's flesh for a while, one taloned hand and one regular hand. You get used to it but it never quite feels the same." She blinks up at the dragon. "I suppose I'm all prosthetic now, but I'm trying to get over that."
"Are you here for maintenance too then?" Gwyndrael asks. "I tried having new flesh-and-blood grafts, but my wounds can't be healed, so new flesh simply withers. The mechanisms are the best I will ever be able to do, but I don't begrudge them - these wounds saved my life, essentially."
Tasha frowns at the limbs for a moment as she answers, "I'm just passing through, but I thought I'd ask around if anyone's seen Horus, Thoth, a giant of metal that looks like a griffon, or a hippogryph male in shiny pants." Rather than ask about the wound immediately Tasha tries opening her third eye to it, the spore, to see if that tells her anything.
There are rainbow-like colors near where the metal connects to the body. "Thoth.. there is a name I've not heard in an age," the dragon says. "But if it is the same person, I have not seen him. Shiny pants are plentiful, hippogryphs far less so I am afraid. How giant of a metal giant?"
Tasha hmms at the wound. "Primal chaos stuff, was it? I forget the name, but I remember it's primal chaos." Tasha then looks up. "About.." A quick glance around. "As tall as that building over there. Black and gold. Possibly damaged."
"I haven't seen such intact of late, although many broken ones can be found in the heart of the Rusting Desert," Gwyndrael says. "But most of those are even older than my wounds. And yes, my wounds were caused by such, during an ancient battle. Ultimately though, I believe they saved me from perishing in the final battle, which I could not participate in."
"It was one called Thoth who sealed my wounds," she adds.
Tasha finds the coincidences a little too much, and so thinks to ask, "That might be so. Out of curiosity, were you from a world ruled by dragons, with two dragon gods and a child? Did it fall to demons?"
The red woman also considers visiting this desert, but she suspects it would be more than a little out of the way. "Kai, do you know a place called the Rusting Desert?"
"Possibly," Kai replies. "It's a fancy name for a junkyard."
"A dragon woman said I might look there for survivors. One who has injuries from primal chaos stuff and was healed by Thoth, which I'm finding very interesting. Do you know a Gwyndrael Stormborn?" As usual Tasha seems to stare in to space a little when she talks mentally, having begun to get used to it, but not having mastered it completely.
"No, I was born in the Dragonlands," Gwyndrael says. "But I was convinced to go to war against the darkest dragons. There seemed little risk in the beginning. The hunter found them, and we would descend with overwhelming force upon the target. Then Peladon would shatter their souls." She looks almost wistful at the memory. "Then we faced one that overwhelmed us."
"Not personally, but I know the name," Kai replies. "She was one of the casualties of the dragon war, and fell in the first battle against Vorgulremik."
"The battles against Vorgulrmik and the steel dragons, I know a little bit about it. Although, I don't think I've actually seen a steel dragon, or the corpse of one, which I suppose is more likely. I picture them like machines, but that also seems unlikely." Tasha considers for a moment, then adds, "Shatter their souls?" Maybe soul-shattering is a weapon she needs.
"That is how you defeat an immortal," Gwyndrael notes. "Otherwise they will come back, and we could not afford any of them coming back. I'm surprised you know of the war. They were dragons covered in armor like steel, sharp and jagged. The world they escaped from was hellish, apparently. When I fought against Vorgulremik, our combined forces were at full strength, and we lost. I find it hard to believe that splitting up to ambush him could have worked."
"He sounds ferocious." Tasha envisions Kainudy's fiery city defense. She knows dragons can be mighty, and are often more mighty than a similarly heeled organic species, but she also has seen their might doesn't reach the heights of demigods often, and so their nemesis much have been mighty indeed. "Perhaps I should learn to shatter souls. I have fought enemies like this nemesis of yours, one that defeated a great army, and I am always seeking an edge over them."
"The problem is that you have to bring such beings to the very brink of death in order to break through the armor around their souls," Gwyndrael says. "Sometimes several layers of such. And it must be done while the target still lives. Death is an escape for such immortals, after all. They may lose much, but they will come back again. What remained of our forces, even with their clever trap, could not have brought Vorgulremik to that point. I had forgotten my doubts, until rumors of the Queen of Demise spread."
Tasha's soul is hardened, and thus hearing about how that might be broken is disconcerting. She knows it's supposed to shield her, but it also makes her vulnerable to tortures immortals such as Vorgulremik may shrug off. It's a weakness she needs to address somehow, if a hole in her essence isn't enough. "You mean rumors back then, or the rumors now?"
"Both, I suppose," the dragon says, tilting her head. "I know who it is, I think. She was being treated beside me, but had no physical wounds."
"Often the other type are far more crippling." Death didn't stop Tasha, but the torture could have; more precisely, the revelations it brought with it. Oh, she supposes she'd have recovered eventually, or some new form of her would emerge that wasn't a collapsed shell of who she had been, but she doens't want to know what would have been lost in the process, or the quality of such a being. Despair was at the heart of it, and a lack of faith, a maddening lack. She can no longer feel it or, truly, the understanding born of experience it brought, but she knows what it was, enough to know she chose to get rid of it. Mortal limits. She hopes her limits grow before she's tested so harshly again. "They can haunt you, or break you. An easy route to the mind and soul, making physical wounds seem paltry. No offense intended. You mean Kainudy."
"Not many would speak that name," Gwyndrael notes. "They prefer Genocide now. Although back then, we also called her the Hunter. It seemed absurd for fey and dragonkin to follow someone who was basically a mortal, but she knew where the prey was hiding. And we couldn't work with with a Seelie or Unseelie.. or even another true dragon. Dragons.. and probably most of the fey as well.. do not work well in groups. But she made it work, well enough to crush the Steel Dragons, who hated one another so were always alone. She was with Peladon when he fell, and he was the only one who could break souls. It's said he'd been beyond the final Gate of the Silver Key, to the very foundation of reality."
"Genocide gets a little confusing for me," Tasha admits, shrugging. After all the first time the name was mentioned she thought they were referring to her. There's a reason she feels she and Kainudy have elements in common. "I've heard of that before, the Gate. Maybe that's an option for me, but this Peladon sounds like an ancient dragon, or some nigh-immortal or immortal, and he did still fall." The Foundation of Reality. It sounds like somewhere she'd like to see. Maybe she'll try, even if she no longer has a reason to seek weapons.
"I think he grafted most of his soul onto Kainudy's in his final moment, so that it could not be stolen by Vorgulremik. I doubt it was gentle, but had he did not do so, then there would have been no point in trying to take down the dark dragon god again," the dragon suggests.
"I think I remember hearing about this, and seeing a statue honoring him." Tasha inclines her head. "Where do you think Kainudy would go, were she to return, and after she fought Nyarlathotep?"
"I have no idea where she's been the past thousand years," Gwyndrael admits. "I know that she vanished shortly after returning to Faerie. As for after fighting Nyarlathotep? That assumes there is an after to such a thing. But I have not heard of his return to the Dreamlands, so either such a fight is still ongoing, or he cannot return for some reason."
"Hmm," goes Tasha, noncommiting to some unspoken thought. "Well, nothing more to be said about that, then, and you havn't heard of my companions traveling through. Do you know of any decent inns, somewhere to stay the night? I can tlak more there if you like."
"I've never been to any of the inns," the dragon admits. "There are many grottos for visiting dragons, which I intend to avail myself upon, once my greasing and waterproofing have been completed here."
"Can you stay at a grotto?" Tasha has never stayed at a grotto before. Maybe she could try dragon living, see how that suits her. "I need somewhere to stay. A grotto sounds nice, but basic and of natural accommodations only." She then glances at the forge, head tilting. She could try to get a new weapon, but she doesn't know her body well enough to know what to pick and has fallen on the basics and old training.
"They can be a bit dim and damp," Gwyndrael explains. "Basically caves with a spot of light and a pool of water. Sometimes with a waterfall, if you're lucky. Good for lurking. I'm normally a desert sort, so a bit of mustiness is a rare treat."
"I'm normally the pampered sort surrounded by luxury, except when I'm not and sleeping in a ditch or a tent. I've never slept in a dragon grotto, however. I think I might try it. Maybe just to see how beings react." After her long talk with the sage Tasha is feeling more quiet and introspective, a inn might not be best for her right now she decides. "I suppose I'll find one later."
"You might do best with one of the warmer ones," the dragon suggests. "Those usually have more plant life and such, rather than bare stone and sand."
"That sounds best. Sand can be good for the wings, and sometimes I miss plants and water. Where I travel, there can be nothing." Tasha looks around for a long moment,t hen nods to the dragon. "It's been nice meeting you, but it's getting late and I need to be going. I hope your maintenance goes well."
"It usually does," Gwyndrael says. "After all, the warranty says I can eat the crew if they miss something," she claims. It might be a joke, but the kobolds do pause for a moment.
"Alas I am too small to eat my help when they make mistakes," Tasha adds conversationally, as if the whole suggestion were quite normal. Sometimes it's fun to go along with things, and she is in a town filled with dragons. It might be the most conversational conversation she's had with their kind, so why not join in.
"Where are you?" Kai suddenly asks. "Have you eaten?"
"I'm at the forge talking with the dragon of the name I mentioned. I was thinking of going to look at a grotto to sleep in, since it sounded novel and cozy. I have not eaten. I would like to." Tasha briefly considers if the last was necessary to say as she suspects she's assumed to be hungry all the time, but then by not mentioning it she might not get fed, and that would be tragic. Better to be safe.
"We found a decent inn, but will come to you," Kai replies. "Then we can eat and look for a grotto."
Tasha says, "That sounds good. We can eat around here, then move to a grotto for the night." Tasha, who had been staring at an anvil, looks up. "Time for me to go, good luck in your affairs." She nods, and then she begins off."