The port of Dylath-Leen supposedly has ships that reach not only mundane ports, but those on other worlds. One of those worlds is the moon, where black galleys maintain regular trade with Dylath-Leen. The port then is extremely busy, with ships both familiar and fantastic, some of which might even be alive. They are crewed by all manner of creatures as well, and the diversity might bring to mind the Bazaar of Rephidim.
As such, Tasha feels right at home in the port. It almost feels like a home coming of sorts, if not for the new species, ships, and general decor. In some ways the Port of Dylath-Leen feels more to her like an amalgamation of experiences rather than a real place, an appropriate emotion, she decides, for a port in the realm of dreams.
Tasha makes her way along the line of ships; she isn't quite sure what to look for, but she did speak with the port authority and a variety of others upon arrival, and now has an idea of what to look for at least. The Moon Beasts, ships, and other all venture to the moon. As she searches for the so-called 'black galleys', she sends, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"What is there to talk about?" Galatea replies. "Daniarood served her purpose. And you served hers. I don't know what will come of it."
"I don't see what the problem is," Redfang chimes in. "She wasn't a very impressive dragon, much less a god. Small and soft. Too pretty."
"That's the way of these things. As I've ascended, certainty has become an uncommon currency, ever more scarce. Thankfully, it's rarely demanded as payment." Tasha keeps walk, then guffaws a laugh as her spirit mocks Dianarood. "Her's is an understated power. She isn't physically impressive, and I doubt she's overwhelmingly dangerous directly, but she has a thousand-thousand years of knowledge and experience. More dangerous for it; she's surely underestimated regularly."
As Tasha walks along, she spots a black sail. The ship is obscured by the one in front of her that looks like it's made of ivory or pearl with sweeping organic curves.. and long wooden oars. There's also some sort of Zelak.. well, probably not a Zelak.. that's taking up a lot of space as it serves as a multi-legged cargo wagon.
Tasha tries to find a way around, eager to be off before her presence draw too much notice and what spies the Harlot has placed here take notice. "I think I like this town. Too early to say for sure, but it has a port, I like the design, and the sheer variety is fascinating." She pushes between two barrels and circles around a mob as she works her way around the giant bug.
The bug-beast shifts aside a bit so that Tasha can get past. Or it's just moving so that it's easier for barrels to be loaded onto its flat back. But once past, Tasha sees what must be one of the black galleys. It looks like it has wings carved into the side of the hull as well, and is loading cargo under the supervision of black-cloaked, blue-skinned humanoids.
Tasha hopes none of the blue humanoids are female; she assumes the Harlot has daughters all across the multiverse, of every shape and size, as a general precaution. Anyone powerful enough to vie for the throne of the Dreamlands and present a credible threat to the gods there is not someone she wants to underestimate. Aggravate perhaps, defy certainly, but not underestimate. She makes her way towards the galley without wasting time.
One of the blue men turns at her approach. He has four eyes, but they aren't placed evenly. "This is a loading zone," he warns in a very hollow voice.
"Tell him you're on a mission from god," Redfang suggests, and Tasha feels something building up.
"I'm aware," Tasha replies, placing a hand over her chest to indicate herself, "I'm looking for passage to the moon, I--" She pauses, looking distant for a moment. "I am on a mission from god."
As she says it, she feels Redfang's draconic aura spill forth. The blue man blinks (but not all at the same time). "Ah.. of course," he says. "I felt that a god was about recently. Do you have cargo?"
"Only myself. I will help you load cargo if you direct me; I will help you defend the ship if we are attacked." Tasha, glad Redfang's plan worked, continues with the direct and mysterious presentation she'd delivered her business by. "Will there be women aboard besides me?"
"Possibly," the blue man says. "As cargo. Women are in high demand on the moon right now."
He then gestures to the gangway leading onto the deck. "We can handle the cargo."
"I will remain away from them; see that they remain away from me, unless cercumstances demand otherwise." Tasha looks up, considering the galley for a long moment. "Very well. If you need me for defense, inform me. Otherwise I will be on the deck appreciating the sights and... communing." She inclines her head respectfully, then starts aboard.
The top deck has the cargo hatches opened, and dual cranes work on loading the palettes of cargo. Another multi-eyed blue creature leans against the aft-castle near the doors and watches. It isn't clear if he's one of the crew or not.
Tasha decides to remain out of the way of the crew, unfamiliar with the ship enough to know she'll get in the way if she wanders too much. Better to let them load, then settle in. "Greetings," she bids the man as she comes over to join him. "Are you of the crew?"
"Not at the moment," the man says, and looks at Tasha, each eye moving independently. "God-touched, you?"
"In so many ways," Tasha says with an air of world-weariness. "And in so many places. To the moon with me. And you, sir?"
"Not touched by many," the man says. "And few I would have wanted to touch me." He taps his head, and smiles. His teeth are odd. "Got too close to the ruins. Got part of my mind eaten."
Tasha nods understandingly. "That is always a danger with ruins; ruined by what and whom, and do they yet remain, in whatever form. My gods are many, some are even known to this place, this Dreamlands. But my first was understanding, and my second in a mountain. Many more came after that."
"Mountains can be gods too," the man claims, half of his eyes watching the loading process.
"That they can. Many things can be gods. Some more talkative than others." Tasha turns to watch the loading process as well, it's been some time since she saw a vessel being loaded by crane, after all. Nostalgia floods through her. "I'll leave you in peace if you'd rather be with your thoughts?"
"No peace, only distraction now," the man says, and looks up. The moon is visible, if a bit washed out. "One day it will crash down. The invisible cable holding it up will be cut."
Tasha follows the man's gaze. She can believe a moon would crash down; she saw a planet get eaten, and she knows the Titanians have destroyed them before, as they have destroyed so much besides. "I hope we are not on it when it falls, though I think that would be a most exciting way to die. Or to live."
"I hadn't thought of that," the man says. "I hoped to hold onto the cable after I cut it. I just have to find it. I know it's there somewhere." The cranes are being clamped down, and the cargo hatches closed up. Loading is complete. Activity shifts to the sails now.
"And for whom would you cut this cable? Depending on where it falls, one or another might benefit, or no one might. Devastation surely... But for whim. If anyone." The red woman watches the moon with a distant, almost professional consideration. She wonders between thoughts when the fall of a moon became so common a subject for her, when devastation did. "It must take a large blade to cut the cable of a moon. Or something equally as sharp."
"Hmm, yes, I would need something very sharp," the man says. "And I would do because I want to destroy the moon and the fell spirits it hides. It doesn't matter where it falls."
"I trust it hides more than fell spirits? Would you destroy it all for them, alone?" Tasha's tone isn't judgmental, just curious. She's had enough urging voices in her head to understand how someone might want to silence them by dropping a moon, or because the voices urged it. Maybe she, too, will destroy a moon some day, for either or both reasons.
"Ate part of my mind, so it filled in with thoughts of revenge," the man says as the ship lurches and begins to pull away from the dock. Wind fills the sails.. but Tasha doesn't feel any wind, so it's probably some sort of magic.
Tasha finds the sails interesting in so far as they are pushed by something. The Titanians, too, use sails on occassion. Push, pull; movement everywhere, in every way, even in people's minds. She considers the man beside her: he had his mind and motivation eaten, pulled out, and something new pushed in, which pushes him still. Movement of forces, the turning of wheels and stars. "Revenge can be a fine motivation, just be sure to have something to do afterwards, or you'll find yourself empty again."
"Wise advice," the man says. "I will search for that first, so that I have it ready." Once they've actually left the harbor (which happens surprisingly quickly) the ship begins to pick up more speed as it races to the horizon.
"Have you been to the moon before? Personally, not in... inherited memory." Tasha watches the horizon race ever forward, glad that it comes with wind and a feeling of speed instead of nothing, as her own ship sails.
"Yes, many times," the man says. "It's where I got eaten." Tasha hears a growing roar in the distance now, and they seem to be racing towards it.
Tasha frowns at the roar, but doesn't allow herself to be alarmed. Instead she watches the crew to see how they react and by their reaction she'll know how much danger looms. "There are... many ruins on the moon, then? This is my first time, in any memory. Could you tell me more of it?"
"There are great forests, and cities.. but also dark places, like the Black Lake of Ubboth, the ruins of Nug-Yaa, the Temple of Mnomquah.. and the dark side, where dwell the Moon-Beasts and worse," the man says, have to talk louder to be heard over the growing roar. "The edge is near now, hold fast to something."
Tasha does as instructed, holding on to what's nearby and lowering her center of mass just in case. She waits for this 'edge' to pass, not wanting to shout her plans to all and sundry, especially now that she's committed and with precious little room to maneuver. She loves ships, but they're no place to fight, nor flee.
The roar of water fills the air, and then the ship sails.. off of the edge of the world. Behind is an infinitely wide waterfall, and all around is the blackness of space. With a creak, the carved wings unfurl and propel the ship through the blackness towards its pale destination.
Tasha walks away enough to look back upon the waterfall. She thinks she'd like to remember the sight for a long, long time to come. The water, the abyss, and all the stars. A place that cannot exist in the reality she was born in to, here common as day, but no less majestic than when she stepped on her first spacecraft and ascended in to those stars.
Upon returning, she asks, "I have a vague idea that I am to venture to a mountain. Are there any mountains of note, on either side, light or dark?"
"Many mountains," the man says. "Is there one in particular you seek?"
"Mount Cthon, I think." Tasha scratches her chin; she hopes that wasn't a mistake to tell him, but she does need directions and one man on a ship is safer than any man in a port.
"Dark side, on top of the realm of Nug-Yaa," the man says. "Very dark."
"Of course." Tasha says it like it's expected. She'll need to travel fast, and light, and hope her supplies last -- if she needs them at all. "I wonder, do I need to eat? I'm already asleep." She looks off towards the closing moon and nods. "Well, we go where we must."
The orb grows large quickly. It seems odd that one side would always face the sun and the other face away.. but she did just sail off of the edge of the world. The galley seems to be heading to the border between light and dark.
Tasha's at least glad they're not landing in the center of the light side, that would extend her journey by who-knows-how-long. Still, even on the edge of the dark side, she sees just how much space she might have to cross, and "very dark" strikes her as deep within the dark side of the moon. "Can you point out the location of the Mountain? Does it bear any landmarks?"
"The cavern beneath holds the Black Lake of Ubboth, which leads to Nug-Yaa, the underground realm," the man says. "The Crater of Mnomquah and his Temple will be near."
"Under the mountain, or under the city, where we plan to dock," Tasha clarifies.
"No, we won't got near it," the man says. "The Moon-Beasts will attack if we go deeper."
"If the landmarks are below ground, it will make the mountain difficult to find, even with its size. Are they truly all beneath the mountain?" Tasha frowns at the over-enlarging two tone sphere. Somewhere in all that blackness is her target, a living idea, the one and only. Even with its light, that endless darkness seems like a great place to hide oneself. "I am thinking about the best way to find and approach the mountain."
"Not the crater and the temple," her guide says. "You could ask when we land." There's more blackness that seems to extend into the light area.. but it's apparently a lake. It looks like it's filled with oil instead of water though. Maybe that's what stained the galley black.
Tasha dislikes the look of that oil beyond the ability to potentially stain and stick her feathers. The whole moon strikes her as eerie in the way of the Dreamlands, but somehow more so, stark, and distant. A distant place, even to a realm as seemingly distant as the Dreamlands seem to her. The kind of places they venture and danger follows, often suddenly, and enormous. And stark, or perhaps it's just how the two-done light strikes her, coloring her opinion. "I suppose I'll find my way in time, then. Thank you for your assistance. Good luck in your own quest."
Once the galley has docked, the gangway goes down and the cargo starts to be unloaded. Waiting to receive it are.. Naga. Or serpent-people at least. On the shore is a dark, cloaked figure that one of the blue men goes to talk to.
Tasha eyes the Naga, or Naga-like entities at least, but her attention ultimately falls upon the cloaked figure. Cloaks conceal, and wearing one means an intent to do just that -- but to what purpose? She doesn't know and mislikes the risk not knowing poses. Still, she needs to leave, and standing around paying too much attention to the exchange might draw its own attention. Keeping careful watch on her surroundings, she heads out.
Since the figure and the captain(?) are right at the end of the dock, Tasha can't really avoid them. The cloaked figure's face looks gaunt but human, and his sunken eye seem to lock onto Tasha.
Here we go. Tasha locks her gaze right back on the figure; she won't show weakness, not here, alone. "Yes?" It' somewhat demanding.
The man ignores the captain and steps towards Tasha. "Which one?" he asks her.
"Be more specific," Tasha replies, brows arching as she looks maintain eye contact. She quickly tags a number of weapons for the ready, just in case, as well as her own magic. She checks her defenses.
The man holds open a withered palm, and a golden light forms. A light that feels familiar, and supposedly impossible: Vril. "Which of the Vril-ya have you been in contact with?" the man clarifies.
"A very demanding question from a man I know nothing of," Tasha retorts. She does however step aside and back several steps, not leaving so much as shifting the conversation off to the side and away from the captain and foot traffic. "Remedy that and maybe I'll answer." That the man has Vril of all things, producing it like coin from a pocket, is remarkable, but she doesn't want to tip her hand, nor jump at the display too readily. It could be fake, or some other trick. She doesn't know, but it does feel correct, and that why he has her attention and her time.
The man grunts, and then chuckles. "I am Haon-Dor, sorcerer of lost Hyperborea," he introduces himself. "Of the First Men, and now perhaps the last."
"Of the First Men... " Tasha considers that at length. All the multiverse, all the places she's been, and realms beside, she finds the long lost creation of Eve by accident. On a dock, no less, which at least makes a kind of sense to her, even if it doesn't make any sense at all. Docks are magical places for Tasha, where journeys begin, and end, and begin again. People meet, part, never return to, reunited by. "Well. I didn't think to meet you here of all places; then again I didn't expect to meet you at all! The last indeed, last I heard. Very well. That is quite a secret. I'll give you what you bought: Thoth, Horus, Eve, Ahriman, Neith, and the one to whom they came from, and for some, have or to return."
"Quite the pantheon indeed," the ancient man says, with emphasis on the last word. "Thoth still lives. Someone I long to meet. But what about the golden man, my brother Ormazd? Have you heard of him still being among the living?"
"I have heard nothing other than that you -- or he -- are supposedly the last," Tasha replies. She eyes her surroundings, then nods in to the city. "And as much as I am fascinated by meeting you, I would prefer not to have long discussions out in the open. If you wish to know more, then buy me a drink. I won't be long for this city, so speak to me while you may. Perhaps on my return I'd be willing to discuss more, at length."
"Welcome then, to Bendal-Dolum," Haon-Dor says, smiling. "Rebuilt in the image of my old home, before my brother and the golden wyrm drove me out." The city is.. small from the looks of it, with a large ziggurat in the center and square stone houses surrounding it. "Take your rest, before delving further into the Dark."
"Thank you." Tasha doesn't ask how the man knows she's heading in to the Dark; she suspects the captain relayed the information, though she can't rule out Vril-ya powers, the full scope of which she does not know. The Vril-ya defeated the Sifra, she knows, and are not to be underestimated. She turns to gaze out at the small city, then nods. "So. In the image of your old city, driven out by your brother and a golden wyrm. Not a friendly driving out, I take it? A golden man and a golden wyrm ... "
The man walks into the city, with the loaded wagon train moving alongside. Several not-Nagas flank them, carrying spear-like weapons. "I had to flee across several worlds, until I made it to this odd moon," Hoan-Dor explains. The houses seem very plain as they pass. No color, no potted plants, just gray stone and narrow empty windows, through which more serpent people watch. "With the fall of Eve, and terrible effects of Vril on most, we were a lost people. And the wyrm watched, took some to examine or experiment on, while my brother and I fought over.. differences of opinion." The ziggurat looms closer, and they enter a causeway flanked by towering statues of Haon-Dor.
Tasha listens with interest, the ear closest to Hoan-Dor swiveling to focus on him. "A harrowing tale. I wonder at what would cause brothers to fight so, and what. I did not have the pleasure of meeting Eve personally, though I know of her and vaguely of her tale, as well as the general story behind the Vril-ya effort across our and other universes. I know that Vril does not sit well with mortals." She looks up at the statues as they pass by. "The serpent-people seem to like you. Or fear you? Both? More?"
"They serve me," Hoan-Dor says. "I am a demigod to them, who brought them out of their holes into a city that they built under my direction. And no, Vril did not sit well with mortals. But the new men were forming, and was only right that we who could contain the Vril should.. guide them." The way says 'guide' really does imply 'rule' to Tasha's ears.
"So your belief is that the powerful should rule over those without, a common enough political, ethical, and religious stance. And easy enough, until it is not." Tasha keeps her tone neutral, but she can't entirely hide her distaste, yet it's a removed distaste, the apathy of someone who battles demons and angels and stands apart from mortal concern. Not approval, certainly. "And not my own belief. It tends to end poorly, for one, as you experienced. It also lacks for growth." She gestures around herself at the dull gray structures. "When all moves through you, you become the limiting factor. And when you are gone, so is your work."
"Better a true god than to let them wallow in ages of ignorance," the sorcerer claims. The main entrance of the ziggurat has something similar to that of Kainudy's retreat: a statue that seems like a shine. It depicts a man who could be the human version of Gabriel, with a braided beard and a sword that splits and curls back at the tip, raised high. And curled around his legs is the golden wyrm, who Tasha recognizes as Daniarood. But why keep a shrine to your enemies?
"I suppose so, unless they enjoy that ignorance, their existence. Knowledge, civilization, growth, these are always assumed to be positive traits, but I say not always. I have seen many worlds brought to ruin by such a desire, beasts made men until they forget that they were beasts." As they they enter Tasha fixates on the statue, frowning at this contradiction. She nods to it. "Honoring your enemies, or a reminder to do better?"
"A reminder, yes," Haon-Dor says softly, almost reverently. "A reminder of failed gods. The wyrm picked over our corpses and stole our secrets. And then she created her own versions of us, the fae gods. But they abandoned their world instead of ruling it. As did the wyrm. And my brother became a god who gave them wisdom, and then too abandoned his position. Not I. When I return, I will not abandon the prize."
"You sound fixated on the past, but is that fixation that of deeds undone, or a drive to prove something? To seize what they once valued?" Tasha says it all with her increasingly distant tone, the young woman who has seen life, death, and eternities, and become some of each. "Why not create your own world, why reach for what others have discarded? Humanity has long moved on, you will find them very different from what you left behind. They will not bow to you so easily now, nor are you, alone, enough bring them low. They seed their own worlds now. They are parents in turn, of slaves and children."
The man turns from the statues to look at Tasha. "And yet, I could control their dreams. Nyarlathotep is gone, and as his disciple I should inherit his throne in Kadath. I will take it," he claims.
"Even dreams are not beyond the control of humanity now, but I see your plan. But you should know Nyarlathotep is not a gracious lord, nor does belief in him offer final reward. He is pain and ultimately ruin, and all built in his shadow will find the same in time." And then Tasha shrugs, as if it were no matter. "But you are not the only contender for the throne. The Harlot gathers strength, her army has just taken the City of Cats and will likely soon move on the others. She watches me; I am not fond of her."
"There are many cats on the Moon, should she now command them," Haon-Dor claims. "But my realm is far away for her, yet I have a larger army, and no obstacles. But you aren't here because of war, are you? You seek something here in the Dark."
"I am always anywhere because of war, these days," Tasha admits, frowning. She turns from the statue to face Haon-Dor directly. "But not yours. I will not interfere unless it benefits me significantly enough. And you are right; has the captain spied on me, or some Vril trick perhaps?"
"Nobody comes to the moon without a destination in mind," Haon-Dor states. "You are a Dreamer, so not likely to be seeking out the god Mnomquah who resides here. So what is it you seek?"
"Does it matter? I am a traveler and a beast, I travel and I hunt." Tasha's smile is toothy. "You might understand my desire for secrecy in these war torn times. The Harlot watches me, and she would greatly love to get one over on me so as to... Hmm." She raises a brow. "If the Harlot does manage her gambit, that could go poorly for you. Do you intend to aid me to sew your own strategy, to keep her from her own? So fondness for me, who studied under Thoth for a time?"
"Curiousity, perhaps," Haon-Dor says. "I like to keep abreast of what is happening on the Moon. And the Harlot is no match for me and my army of Moon-Beasts. Also, do you know your way around, or even have a map?"
"The Harlot's investigation have made a more sedate preparatory experience problematic, so I have tried to distance myself from her and her many, many daughters before plotting anything. Not that I expect it will help, of course, but it might and so here I am. And this place," Tasha looks around a moment, indicatively, "Seems like a fine enough place to avoid her. I imagine you have dealt with and have safe guards against her spying. So no, on both counts. No map, no knowledge of this place."
"If you wish to be lost, then Nug-Yaa is your destination," Haon-Dor says. "The ancestral home of the ophidian people, beyond the Black Lake of Ubboth. I can offer you a guide, if you wish. The Moon-Beasts are dangerous, especially if they catch a lone traveler."
"I would like to fight a Moon-Beast, but the delay could be a problem, and the frustration of potential death more so." Tasha taps her chin in thought, makes a decision, and simply stats, "I make for Mount Cthon. I am not, to my knowledge, here to interfere with your operations on the moon."
"Then you head past the Windowless City of the Moon-Beasts until you reach the cavern of the Black Lake," Haon-Dor instructs, and points in a direction. "Cthon rises above the cavern wherein lies the Black Lake."
"You can follow the slave wagon to the city," he also suggests.
"How will I know this Mountain and its Cavern, or is it obvious upon approach?" Tasha turns to look in the direction Haon-Dor points, nodding. "Or will the slave wagons be enough? Slave wagons suggest a trail -- or a road."
"You will know it," the ancient man claims. "And there are roads, but in the Dark they are difficult to see. The men of Leng know the way. Those you rode with on the Galley. They are the intermediaries for the Moon-Beasts and those of Dylath-Leen."
"Then I will ride with them, besides I would like to meet these Moon-Beasts, if just for the experience of doing so. Still," Tasha looks back towards the way they came in, "Can you be certain the slave caravans carry no daughters? It would be a clever plan to distribute them so, no one minds slaves."
"What is there to spy upon in the ruby mines?" Haon-Dor says. "And by what means could they communicate with the Harlot? I doubt she has so many daughters that she can sacrifice them like that."
"By her account she has thousands of everything that matters, one of many facts I learned when she interrupted my conversation," Tasha says with some annoyance. Yet, she counters herself with a more energetic, "She is quite dangerous. And influential. Beware the unlooked places, the safe places, or she may be your doom. And mine."
"Ahh, and she can travel by hidden and secret routes. She appeared rather alarmingly next to our gathering before relaying the aforementioned information," Tasha adds.
"I have nothing to fear from her," the man boasts. "My secrets are beyond her reach."
And so Tasha simply nods. "May your confidence match your reach." Changing topics, she asks, "How soon may I be off, unless you have more to speak of? I admit I'm intrigued to find one of the First Men here, indeed, I am intrigued to find one at all. How has your Vril endured, or am I not thinking in long enough timelines?"
"It is ever-renewing, and you may leave whenever you wish," Haon-Dor says. "If you encounter either of my ancient enemies though, I would be most interested in learning about such."
"I would prefer to avoid making your ancient enemies my ancient enemies, I have quite enough enemies as it is, and without the luxury of being able to assign temporality." But Tasha leans in, curious. "Ever-renewing. How interesting. May I ask by what power or technique you maintain it? I had heard it was finite."
"For those who could not master it, perhaps," Haon-Dor claims. "But it is the power of the cosmos. A power that I control."
"The power of the cosmos. Interesting. I've not heard it described as such." Tasha takes a few steps to the right, then to the left, head down and tilted, bird-like in her interest. "And mastery allows for its generation. There is having it, and there is generating it. Something missing between. Of the cosmos."
"Now, I have little reason to expound on the secrets of Vril when you have hidden your own power thus far," Haon-Dor says. "You are also a sorcerer.. or a pawn of one."
"That is very fair." Tasha doesn't stop bird-gawking, however. "Yes, I might be a pawn. It is hard to avoid the leash when there are so many around who want to collar you, intentional or otherwise. Yet, some of the power is mine. Which is which, I wonder?"
"You shouldn't reveal too much to this being," Galatea advises. "He may be able to detect the dragon heart or your connection to me. He has been probing your defenses this whole time, looking for a way in."
"Not unexpected, and I agree I shouldn't provoke his interest further. Still, the conversation was instructional, and I've learned a fair bit. Time to go." Tasha then relents, stepping away. "As much fun as this is, I do need to be on my way. We can stop our dance for now, and say our farewells in relative peace." She straightens. "Good bye, First Man. For what it's worth, I'd rather it be you on the throne than her."
"Hmm, then perhaps you don't know either of very well," Haon-Dor says, then turns away and walks further into the dark palace until he's vanished from view.
"Either a dim self review or he's right," Tasha admits to Galatea. "Well, what's done is done. There's a certain defense in seeming harmless and foolish, but it's not to be relied upon." Tasha also takes her leave, heading back down the way and towards the ship, towards the Men of Leng and their convoy.
There are three wagons leaving the city, each with a large box atop covered in a tarpaulin. The odd men carry lanterns that give off a strange light, like ultraviolet.
Tasha approaches the front of the column and to its side, not wanting to get away, but also wanting to find the convoy leader as soon as she is able. "Slaves. Normally I'd consider doing something about this, but I'm on my own here, and I'm not at all sure what I would do with those I rescued. I also can't rule out a daughter being in the mix."
"There will always be more slaves, you can't save them all," Galatea says. Her moral calculus always seems a bit cold. The man at the front notices Tasha. "What do you want, missionary?" he asks.
"I can try." Tasha nods to the man in greeting and answers, "To come with you. I have business in the direction you travel, and I can be of use if you are attacked."
"We will not be attacked, but if you keep to yourself you may travel with us," the man says. He then cracks his whip over the heads of the serpent-people pulling the cart. It doesn't make them move any faster though.
"Very well." Tasha falls in line beside the carts, resenting walking but deciding it's better than trying to fly in the dark in a sky filled with unknown predators. She looks to see if there's anywhere she can sit on one of the carts, as the man didn't say she couldn't after all.
There are the tops, but they're covered in fabric so who knows if there's a solid base under that. The odd lamps cause the landscape around them to glow, and this reveals the tracks of previous wagons. The wagons have benches where the drovers sit. The front one has a second seated figure that carries a long, odd looking weapon, as does the one at the rear. The middle one only has the drover.
Tasha decides to seat herself with the middle drover then, approaching and climbing aboard, waiting to see if she's told to stop. "Hello," she greets the man in a tone that suggests he can engage or not, as is his wont
Several of the man's eyes rotate to look at Tasha. "Came with the ship?" he asks.
"I did. Traveler. God business." Tasha makes herself comfortable, leaning back and folding her hands in her lap to keep them and her instinct from wanting to grab a whip. "I used to be a drover, in fact. Before I was other things."
"Droving pays alright," the man says, and then proceeds to pretty much ignore Tasha, as if he already knows everything he wants to about her.
"A friendly and verbose people, the Men of Leng," Tasha asides to Galatea. She thinks this is going to be a long journey, but at least it's a new journey, on a new moon, somewhere in the land of dreams. She wonders if anyone she knows dreams of this place, and if they see her in it. "How long have I been asleep, Galatea?"
"Nearly thirty minutes," Galatea reports. "I don't know if you can sleep in the Dreamlands while also being asleep here. I can play you music though for your journey."
Tasha didn't realize Galatea can be used as a music player, such a trivial functionality the red woman has to grab her muzzle to stifle her laugh. "That shouldn't be necessary, I do want to see and know this place, even if seeing is a bit difficult, what with it being eternally shrouded in darkness. Instead we can just talk. Lets see... How do you feel Sasha, Sharon, and Vasha are coming along? They seem to be benefiting from my non-interference."
The glowing landscape in the lantern light is fairly barren, and doesn't extend far. And other the noises of the wagons, there is silence. "I think they are doing well," Galatea says. "None of them has had a psychotic break or other severe issues. Regular sessions with Dr. Sen seem to help. Sasha is now sexually active on a regular basis with Mressa. Vasha is honing her sword skills with the Kobold retainers."
"Ha! I knew the two of them would get along, and Vasha taking to the sword seemed like a natural progression of her nature. I suppose it's just Sharon, then, that I should worry about. Her studies seem to be coming along, at least. Is she still there beside me?" Tasha regards the limited landscape with a increasingly flagging interest. The dark side of the moon of dreams sounds like a fascinating place, and she thinks it likely is, yet darkness, for all its mystery, is paradoxically boring to look upon.
"She is drawing on your face with a marker pen," Galatea claims, in what is probably a joke. "So far she is maintaining your slumber."
"That doesn't sound like Sharon. Also, I have fur. And good. The training is paying off for both of us." With that topic out of the way, Tasha considers what else she might discuss. "How about the others? Dr. Sen has taken over for me with Samael, but that just happened."
"I don't keep track of Samael," Galatea claims. "He can hide from me. The man Haon-Dor called Ormazd may have been the cult god Ahura Mazda, also called Ormazd."
"I don't recall that name. It surprises me there may be two -- or more -- First Men still active. Perhaps this Ormazd might be an ally, as I highly suspect his brother won't be very pleasant once he knows my affiliations. In fact, he'll be especially upset when he learns a certain golden dragon is now on the wall of a certain monastery." Tasha's grin is slight. "It almost feels like graffiti. Well. What did you think of our golden dragon, of Dianarood?"
"She is unreadable to me," Galatea admits. "Every move and sound is calculated to produce the response she wants. Nothing is genuine."
"Genuine in its intent, at any rate. It shows her incredible age and guile, the manifestation of eons of experience, caution, and experience." Tasha scratches her nose. The moon is rather dusty, and it makes her nose itch. "It sounded like her 'words of wisdom' were directed at us both. Play with the doll. By doll of a doll I assume she meant your greater predecessor?"
"That was aimed at me," Galatea says. "She does not consider the T'spyran or Stelya-rhyan to be 'real' sapient beings. Just very good at mimicking it."
"What do you think her metric is for grading whether a being is 'really' sapient or not?" Tasha closes her eyes after a while. She may as well rest them, there's not much to see. "Do being like myself, created from intentional design and interference, count? She seems to accept my company. She did let me hug her once. I thanked her for her hard work."
"You have some Human in you," Galatea notes. "I do not think she believes that any species she did not have a hand in making is legitimate. Because she also has no control over them. My kind were created without ANY of the genetic conditioning that would make us obedient to her."
"I see. An interesting take on her nature, hopefully my appreciation didn't go to her head if all of that is true, though I doubt someone as young as myself would change her nature so much. But, you never know." Tasha exhales. It's been a relatively long trip for thirty minutes of sleeping. "Well then, I think we've gone over everything. Now to meet The Phoenix, and see what comes of it. I wonder if it will receive me."
"It would be simpler to fly, if you had a compass of some kind," Galatea says. The wagons roll on and on and on, and time seems to be a bit.. optional.. in this reality. However long the trip is, it seems to end quickly as they reach the city of the Moon-Beasts. There's more of the strange lights, which illuminate pale, frog-like bipeds. Their faces lack any visible eyes.. or noses or mouths, as most of it is a mass of short, squirming pink tendrils. The remove the tarps and open the cages to begin grasping at the human cargo within. "We will be returning to the docks once the slaves have been unloaded," the drover says in a dull monotone.
"Very funny. I'm not making deals with the witch. Also, surprisingly petty Galatea." A rather long, or short, Tasha can't tell, time later Tasha is standing beside the caravan replying, "That's fine. My business is beyond here, and I won't be returning soon, perhaps at all. But if I do return, I will join you again if you are still here."
The huge creatures are now loading the empty cages with chests. They all seem to ignore Tasha for now.
And so Tasha ignores them. Instead she looks up, and up, in to the darkness in search of the mountain. "We may need to consider lighting options. I didn't want have to use our combined powers, but this trek will be for naught if I fly in to a mountain. I'm uncertain if I can die while dreaming, but I don't want to find out the dumb way. Do you think there's enough star light to utilize vision enhancement technology? I feel like fire magic will just make me a huge target."
"We haven't seen any flying creatures or airships," Galatea notes. "If we have a straight line course, we could follow it until we see signs of the Phoenix. It's a giant creature made of fire. It should stand out."
"But barring that, the cavern and the Black Lake of Ubboth sound like major destinations," Galatea then suggests. "If there is a road, then you follow it while flying very low."
"It should. Hopefully. Pun intended." Tasha steps away from the loading area, then starts walking forward, toward the city. "The city may be useful, lets follow the road until we reach the cavern. Supposedly the mountain is beyond, and the Moon-Beasts seem sentient enough to make business transactions, so I'm sure they can point if we ask nicely."
The city is another one made of blocky stone structures, the difference being that they had no windows (and in some cases it seemed like there were also no doors). There were cats though, running through the streets as if hunting. The slaves were also tied together and moving in a column towards a different area that seemed to be outside of the city itself.
"It looks like it's too late to hide, the Harlot may know I've arrived, and she likely knows where the Phoenix is. I don't expect her to arrive slowly, but just in case, keep an eye out for her -- or anyone else showing an interest in me, cats included." Tasha tries to stop a Moon-Beast who seems like they might be free, though it's hard for her to tell given their entire lack of a face as she understands one.
The lumbering giant stops and turns to 'face' Tasha. They don't have necks, so it turns its entire body. It also doesn't say anything.
"Please point at Mount Chthon," Tasha asks the beast, deciding to be as clear as possible -- and polite, as she'd rather not offend the creature so close to its own city, and the seat of a god no less. "Lets hope this works. They kind of remind me of the time I met one of the Ogdru'hem, whose form was something like this, but much larger and even stranger. I think it was a bit sad when I admitted its form made me uncomfortable. A lesson for both of us, it said. Also in a dream, come to think of it."
The creature's tentacles squirm about in an unsettling manner for a long moment. Then it turns to the side and points in more or less the same direction the road was going.
"Thank you." Tasha inclines her head, then starts walking in the direction pointed. "At least communication seems like it works. I wonder how intelligent they are, and how they communicate normally?"
"I suspect by the movement of the tendrils, if they have a visual system," Galatea suggests. "Intelligence does not imply sapience though."
"That is true. The reverse is also true." Tasha makes her way along the road, intent on getting away from the cats and the slaves, even if it may be pointless to do so by now. Once she is she plans to take wing and use the road as a straight line to the cavern entrance and, beyond, Mount Cthon.
Getting through the city is simple, since the populace ignores her for the most part. The 'road' is actually lit by lanterns when she reaches the far edge, so she has a start. The lanterns don't extend out very far though.
"It looks like this is it. Time to fly and follow the road, then?" Tasha looks up, and up, but the night sky offers only stars, darkness, and the outlines of what could well be anything.
"Just be wary of flying low," Galatea cautions. "There could be giant moon-chameleons with long tongues."
"Chameleons... who hide in the dark." Tasha does not sound convinced. "I think you're enjoying teasing me. This is fun for you." Tasha eyes the darkness, and the mountain that presumably lies beyond and she hopes she will not fly in to. "Well, here we go. Well, I go." And then she ducks down, sets her hooves, and races forward to get enough speed for flight. She decides to conserve her energy; after all she may fly in to a mountain -- and the Phoenix may not be friendly.
Once airborne, Galatea replies, "I doubt anything here has good ranged senses, unless they use sonar. The Moon-Beasts use something other than sight to navigate their world. Probably why they don't use windows. The lighting in the city may just be for the benefit of their slaves."
"That makes sense to me. I'm curious how they communicate, but we don't have time to explore the life and culture of Moon-Beasts. We now have at least two powerful, waring entities aware and interested in us -- and I mean us, both of us -- plus whomever else is watching from afar. I've enjoyed the trip and I'd like to see and learn more, but a reality-wide war for power is not the time to do it." A pause, and then, "Also, I hate flying to pitch darkness."
"There are the stars," Galatea points out. "They should help you maintain direction at least. And you have a sense of altitude from pressure changes. Use your hands to provide illumination."
"Yes I'm using those, but I rarely fly in to something above me, and I can't see very well." Tasha does try holding up her hands and readying them, an awkward way to fly, but necessary. She also looks through tools to try and find a range finger device.
There are various laser devices, some meant for air and some for space. There are also night-vision and multi-spectral goggles.
Tasha goes with the multi-spectral goggles, manifesting them and putting them on. "This is quite a list. I tried to find something earlier, but it's a very big list. I'm going to need some time to get a hold on the mental warehouse." The goggles get strapped on tightly. "Lets hope the Phoenix isn't hiding under a blanket."
After a bit of adjustment, Tasha is able to see the landscape in an almost psychedelic false-color palette. "I thought the categorical indexing would be more helpful," Galatea admits.
"It is, it's just a lot of equipment to familiarize myself with. I had a similar problem early in my with Gabriel, when he and the others first introduced me to Expedition-era technology. It feels like a long, long time ago." Now that she can see, Tasha finds navigating easy. It's hard to miss a gigantic mountain now that she can see it, so she corrects her course and makes a direct line for it. "Not long now. Be ready for a possible interception."
"How should I be ready, given that I'm not there?" Galatea asks. The gaping maw of the cavern with it's black lake and underground realm are visible now, mostly as a black void at the base of the mountain. Cthon rises up like a spire, and has a twist to it, unlike any mountain Tasha has seen before. It's impossibly steep, but there are probably denizens of the Moon that could scale the near-vertical slopes.
"Mentally prepare yourself, maybe put down the ten thousand instances of solo card games?"
As Tasha approaches the mountain, she regards the spire with surprise and a more than a degree of awe. "This isn't a mountain, this is a tower, a spike in to the heavens. And look at that spiral, is that a road?" Tasha considers the walk and shudders, and then, she sees The Harlot's plan. Oh how Tasha thinks the Harlot would have laughed when she beheld this mountain and despaired. "And this is why offers from beings like that woman are to be avoided; it always ends in... this."
"It could be the horn of a giant buried unicorn," Galatea suggests. "I haven't seen it personally, but T'spyra on Tyrrhynn is taller, if less girthy. The Phoenix must nest near the top."
"I guess if you don't want to be bothered, especially by a land-based army, this is the place to do it. Well, this is going to be a long spiral." And so Tasha swings wide and enters in to the aforementioned flight pattern, circling and circling, up and up. Without thermal currents, it's a lot of work. "I've never been to Tyrrhynn. Charon would say that word sounds made up."
"It's the world Khryss and Kainudy built for their kind, where Daniarood and the drakes reside," Galatea notes. "She is Tyrrhyan, I am T'spyran."
The mountain seems to be lifeless, and the 'road' is too steep for any normal creature to follow. It's more like the spire itself was twisted by some terrible power.
"Ah, the second generation along with the one Charon belongs to." Tasha considers worlds she's visited. "I did visit a world that was entirely a mechanical clock, and another made out of a sea of rolling humanoid life. The entire system was -- and is -- a trap of the Ogdru'hem."
"I've seen it in your memories," Galataea notes. "I may investigate it further at some point."
"Thanks for touring my memories. I hope I organized them efficiently." Tasha's thought is unrepentant sarcastic. Around and around she goes, the sense of speed from the close proximity of the spire at least helps her feel more like she's going somewhere, even if that somewhere is straight up in the most round-a-bout way possible. She could just use her powers but that feels wrong, and also, it feels reckless when she's so near her goal and therefore rapidly reducing to zero the time where she might be stopped.
There are caves along the way, but none of them have the glow that would indicate the presence of something that gives off light, unless they are very deep. It isn't until Tasha is nearly to the peak that she spots a larger cave, and a reddish-gold glow from within.
"Real light." Tasha pushes down her goggles to make sure. "Definitely. I was half expecting it to perch at the very top, but a cave makes more sense, especially right now. Plus all your stuff might be blown off and it's a really long way to go get them. I'm rambling. We're heading in." She angles inward, readying to land along the walkway instead of straight in to the cave.
The entry to the cave is strewn with rubble, and the walls around it shear. It looks like the only option is to land inside of the cave.
Tasha diverts her land, circling back around. "Well, directly in then, here we go." She readies herself, checks her defenses, prepares her own mastery of fire (such as it is) as she arcs around, and then she's heading in. "Lets hope this is the right cave and not where the sun hides at night or something."
Like the mountain itself, the cave twists. The light is coming from around a bend.
Tasha takes a moment to dust herself off. She straightens her clothes, pulls a comb, combs her hair. She looks herself over in a mirror she manifests and then allows to vanish after she's done with the self examination. It will have to do, she decides.
After taking a deep breath Tasha walks in to full view and begins around the bend, deciding covert action and furtiveness will only breed suspicion. She just just hopes she picked the right cave, or she may be about to be blasted with dragon fire or some other incendiary-based disapproval; she may still be blasted with the same even if she picked the right cave. Both she and Kainudy are not much loved in this place, worse still if someone knows their role in this realm-wide war.
The Phoenix is larger than expected: Thermoriax-sized. The only part not glowing metal-hot is its eye, which is black. It makes it stand out, especially when it's looking at you. The great bird is lying in a nest made of stones. "Have you come to chain me next to Nyarlathotep's throne once more?" it asks, the tone a bit threatening - although the acoustics of the cave don't help any. The voice sounds both feminine and masculine at the same time, as if two voices were overlaid on each other.
"Gods, no," goes Tasha, who pauses her advance under the gaze of that great black eye. She's glad to have a topic she can respond positively on, one she can offer not only support, but commiseration, maybe even more. It's a good sign even if the Phoenix themself is clearly put off. They are, Tasha decides, at least not put off by her, not directly. "Nyarlathotep is useful and all, but he's far more a danger than a help. I'd erase him from the multiverse if I could, and if that action wouldn't cause the multiverse to crumble. I've looked in to it." She lays her hand over her heart. "I'm not here to hurt, enslave, take from, or otherwise do badly by you. I hope my presence is therefore not unwelcome."
"Then explain it," the glowing bird asks. Tasha can feel the heat it puts off even from a distance. "My time grows short."
"Ah... " "Of course we get here towards the end of things. Well, we can't leave things like this. If she -- they? -- suspect slavers, then they're likely not far off." "Well. Uh." She looks at the Phoenix for a long moment, then all of them, and frowns. "My concerns seem a lot less relevant now that I see your current situation. So, I'm going to change why I've come. Do you need my help?" She spreads her hands, as if to indicate all of creation. "I'm rather a bit tired of killing, violence, and all the dire sadness. The broken families, the endless bodies. A war without end. So here before you I'm going to try to remember who I used to be and why I did what I did because, like you, and I am burning out."
"In a few days, if such exists on this barren Moon, I will self-immolate and rise again from my own ashes," the Phoenix says. "I am vaguely aware of having done this many time, but still the being that I am now will be gone. All I remember of this life is being a slave, so I judge it no great loss. I only wish for my next incarnation to be remain free. Is this something you can help with?"
"I possess the means to travel between universes and work with and occasional head a fighting force that slays demons and opposes demonic gods, if not all of them. I will admit to you I am under the influence of at least one, but also of other beings that might claim similar stature as a whole. It has been difficult expelling a certain demonic deity from my home reality without questionable help, otherwise I think I'd like to move on from it." Tasha scratches the side of her head, tilting in to the scratch. "You may or may not be encouraged to know I am associated with the Queen of Demise. Her existence is somewhat my fault, though it was more of a mutual devastation. I am doing what I can to recover her as, like yourself, she is a being with different existences over time, and we wish to bring her to a better future. Ahh, what else, we have a peaceful realm that is isolated you may dwell in, though I know not how long we will remain in it. I am willing to fight for you, because I believe in what you represent, and because I believe it would be good for me. I, too, have died and return to life, though I remain mostly myself."
"Bits of you anyway," Galatea notes. The Phoenix takes this all in, not a feather moving, and finally blinks. "I hidden, peaceful realm sounds ideal, for however long it lasts. I am not one to stay in one place for long, unless shackled, but I am vulnerable in my youth. Grant me this, and I will answer any questions you originally planned to ask me."
"Well, that sounds acceptable. May I suggest you transition from this realm before your rebirth? You are, as you said, vulnerable at that time, and I am much diminished as a Dreamer. Together, and with the power that backs me, we might fend off an attack long enough to leave this realm. Alone, I'm not sure I can protect you against the greater threats of this place. I am not fully here." Tasha tilts her head the opposite of the scratch lean. "My questions are also a bit long and complicated. I'd rather speak them away from here, if possible. If you agree, I will gather my forces to intitate the transfer." She seems done, but then something strikes her. "And, I think it will do you some good to see a place of freedom and peace before you pass on. You deserve that. I say it's so, and I will make it happen."
"There is a problem there," the Phoenix claims. "My immolation is quite violent. I chose this place due to its isolation, partly for my security and partly to minimize damage. I have been used as a weapon for destroying cities in the past."
"I'm sure we can manage. I have some facility with fire magic, for one, and we have a greater deal of combined technology, magic, and stranger powers. But, let me check, first." "Galatea, can we manage it? Between our combined powers and my capacity with fire, would that be enough? We'll need to organize the dragons to help put out stray fires, the kobolds, too. We can probably place them on the ship or move them to the mountains. I'll try and manage the flames as much as I'm able, and Wormwood might be able to help, too. Perhaps Thermoriax's prayers to her god might help us, I can't think Bahamut approves of the Phoenix's incaceration, and would see them free."
"Time moves differently in the Dreamlands," Galatea reminds Tasha. "I can communicate with you because I can think fast enough to keep up. At this point, it would be easier to let her explode, then recover the new Phoenix via dimensional portal."
"Very well. I will remain here until that point, then." Tasha shakes her head. "The temporal differences between the two universes is too great a problem, it would be difficult to coordinate everywhere to receive you in time. Instead, I will remain here to assist you until your rebirth is complete." And then Tasha just sits right down where she is. "Aside from my other questions I had hoped to ask you about fire magic in general; it seems I may need the instruction immediately, to survive the conflagration."
"It is not magic," the glowing bird explains. "It does not involve incantations or gestures. Fire is Life. It is Breath, it is Blood, it is Sustenance, it is Voice."
"Do not think of it as something to control, but something that flows naturally from your very being," the Phoenix says.
"I see. I've seen something of that in my studies. The power of fire I possess is my own, but also that of dragon. I had heard you were another source of fire, and they were not wrong about that, if wrong in the details." Tasha scoots closer, as close as she can manage before the heat becomes too much. Once close enough she allows her own aura to manifest, using it to sense and feel the Phoenix's own, as she had felt it so very distantly from the mere feather.
It's very different from a dragon's aura. The music of it, or flavor is what stands out. It isn't a note of power, like a dragon, but one of life. Certainly one of the options Tasha had been presented with in the book. Still, it isn't clear what the source of it is.
Tasha closes her eyes to better sense the power that flows beside her, letting it bleed in to her own aura so that she may try and understand it directly rather than intellectually, to experience it. The more she feels of the power, the more it feels both familiar and yet distant. Creation is something she has familiarity with, but destruction, as she thinks is appropriate, comes easier. Yet, as she's lately realized, too much destruction leads to a destruction of the self, as in Kainudy and her own flagging spirit. It is that journey in to deeper Destruction that she suspects is the source of her alienation from Creation and why Sharon, separated from herself, may grow closer to it than she has.
In a word, Tasha realizes she has become unbalanced. She considers then the two opposites and extremes that are the Queen of Demise and the Phoenix. The Queen of Demise is miserable, lost to destruction, destroying relationships, works, good deeds and earned karma as her sins and failures catch up with her. The Phoenix as far as Tasha knows is blameless, yet it has suffered enslavement, abuse, use, and she is sure far worse over its many existences. What then, the lesson here? What is the weakness of extreme Life, without Destruction? She supposes it must be the inability to defend oneself, to fight back. The destroyer can only fight, and so creates nothing, only taking. At that extreme even what is taken is destroyed, as is the self. The Phoenix remains, but its life, its Life, is tainted by its inability to remove what oppresses it.
And so Tasha summons her Destroying fire, and from its shadow, she attempts to generate the fire of Life. Like two sides of a balance, like light and shadow, she tries to know one through what the other is not.
While wielding destruction, it seems impossible to summon creation. The source of that flame is from a dragon after all, and not a nice one either. She'll need to go deeper than that flame, down to the residue of her own re-creation. This leads her back into the arched chamber she first encountered inside Persephone's marker.
Tasha looks around; it's been quite some time since she was here, and she had not expected to visit this place again. In truth she assumed Persephone was sick of her, and with good reason, especially in light of more recent events. "Ah, hello..?" Why is she here again, why now, so high in the darkness?
The blue dragon made of crystal appears. "Tasha, you've found your way back," she states.
"So I have," Tasha replies, hand to heart, bowing. "In the middle of darkness I found the light, if you'll believe it."
"Can you be more specific?" the dragon asks. "I'm just a remnant with limited abilities."
"Oh." Tasha's ears sink a little, it would have been nice to have Persephone herself welcome her back, some forgiveness for her failures. "I am meditating beside the manifestation of Life and Hope itself, The Phoenix. They are teaching me the Fire of Life. In attempting to understand Creation's Fire, I found myself here."
"Ah, because that is what I used to give you new life," Not-Persephone says. "You are seeking that?"
"I am seeking that. I have followed Destruction's path as far as I am willing and I see myself being destroyed. Destruction will not fill the emptiness inside of me; it is only making it grow. I am trying a different path, now." Tasha does not say 'different from Kainudy'.
"Destruction does lead to self-destruction, in anyone not possessed of extreme confidence in their selves," Persephone agrees. "Allow me to scan you, as it has been some time and I am not familiar with your current circumstances."
"Please do. I have changed somewhat since my last time here." Tasha waits, patiently inspecting the chamber she is in, somewhere inside herself.
Nothing seems to happen, but then Persephone says, "I see that much of the Creative aspect has been transferred to Kai, while Galatea's is largely unrealized. Yours has been left to smolder from what it once was. You have not created since you left Abbadon at nearly the scale you had previously."
Tasha scratches her head at that. "If I understand correctly, I've over relied on Kai to build for me. I've not utilized Galatea's own abilities to create, or that she herself does not use them, or both things. I have diminished my desire to create since I left Abaddon." She considers this. "It has become harder to contribute meaningfully while surrounded by so much power and ability. From suffering and war, I've felt myself be worn down. I died, and then before I could find myself, I experienced something that caused me to give up all hope. I have been pushing on despite how I feel, and I think no one has noticed, so I keep on as before, because they need me. I do not know how to proceed; I thought I would take a chance with the Phoenix."
"To understand Creation, you must create," Persephone says. "And what you create must be significant to you. Katherine creates a riding vehicle, for instance. You may create art, or children, or something else that is meaningful to you. That will kindle the Creation side of the Flame."
"But know that with Creation there can be Loss," Persephone cautions. "Kainudy began as a Creator."
"I suppose in the face of things meaning has been hard to find. I don't create art, because I feel I should be doing something else, or in light of the ugliness and pain around me and in me, the gesture feels hollow and stale. I know I learned something that ruined how I saw myself, and that it was removed from me." A pause, then Tasha admits, "And surrounded by so much power and ability I feel stiffed. I created when I could rise up. I created because exploration and travel were wonderful. Now I travel to fight, and I rely on great beings to build. I feel trapped, and a cell is no place to create." And then she sighs. "I am not as great a creator as Kainudy once was. I started with Destruction and then I started to Create. But I find motivation and inspiration to be distant. The war grinds me down. Managing everyone keeps me in place. I see the works of elder beings, friends and allies, and I see ruin."
"If you want to win the war, you use what you can," Persephone says. "That could be ancient spells or helpful demigods. But they are all tools, even the people. You're the one that guides them. And you've chosen a powerful foe that you can only beat by attacking first and attacking decisively, because you can't afford having them fight back. I hope it isn't because of me. I've fought these entities before, because I decided it was the right course. And also because they were wrecking a universe. It was not a war without cost. And your powerful friends will not fight it for you."
"No, it's not because of you. I became aware of the Ogdoad before I met you, it was in fact what I was doing right before we met -- investigating, exploring, and looking for a way to deal with them. But you're right. I need to use what I can -- and I can't let what I use destroy me. So I'll have to make decisions about what I can and cannot lose, and one of those things I cannot lose is myself, because then it will all fall apart unless someone takes up my banner. And, I don't know who will. Galatea says she can replace me, but she can't. She has no stomach for decision making, nor war." Tasha taps her fingers together. "But I can address something here: I've let what I've used and what I've done eat away at at me. That ends now. I have to be able to live and that means I must be able to live with myself. Saving the Phoenix will be the first step in that, and I will learn to do more than destroy."
Tasha then spreads her hands. "Because I figured it out. What I create is hope, futures, places to belong and things to fight for. I save the saviorless, the abandoned, the hopeless. I give a place for those who do not belong, to belong. I fight a war because if not me, then who?"
"A noble purpose then," Persephone says. "We are solitary sorts by nature. We observe and record, but don't offer hope. Kainudy was once like that, when she was the Heart. Maybe she'll be that way again someday. But not to the degree you are. I'm glad I recreated you."
Tasha smiles at that, and it feels like the first time she's really smiled with pride in a long, long time. "Thank you. That means a lot to me. More than I can put in to words." She takes a moment to savor the moment, taking in a deep breath, then exhaling. "Well. I can't rest on my laurels, whatever a laurel is, I need to plan my next move and so here I am. The Phoenix will soon die, and then it will be reborn, and it will be vulnerable. I can't risk leaving until I have removed the Phoenix from the Dreamlands and secured it a safe place back home. Which means I need to understand the Flame of Life, because I will next to the Phoenix when it explodes -- to say nothing of anything else coming to stop me."
"The death of the Phoenix is akin to a nuclear explosion," Persephone warns. "And you must defend the nest beforehand."
"That's... a lot of explosion. But the fear of it will also keep most entities away, and if I can find a means to endure it, I can use that as a threat. With the Phoenix's permission, I could accelerate the process in an emergency, and then open a gate directly after and either pick up he Phoenix or, if my Dreamer body can't handle it, wake before the detonation and rush in through the gate." Tasha scratches her chin. "Defending the nest is expected at least. It will be difficult, alone. Maybe I should open a gate early and call in reinforcements."
"I'm not enough for you?" Galatea asks, sounding miffed.
"Oh, you're here, too?" Tasha looks around, frowning; Is nowhere sacred anymore? "Galatea is being grumpy because she feels like I think she's not enough, which, I think, is very selfish considering her general decision to not engage in combat across the board. Does this mean you want to help this time? You've been rather distant about direct intervention."
"I can help you defend the nest," Galatea says. "Nyarlathotep's creatures will come for the Phoenix, they just have to scale the mountain first."
"That gives us a good defensive position against ground targets, leaving only airborne enemies and those who can teleport as our main concern. Can you secure our immediate space against teleportation? There's not much I can do about that, myself." Turning back to Persephone, Tasha asks, "Is what I create enough to bond with the Flame of Life? If I can, I may even be able to draw upon it to sustain myself against injury."
"To bond with the Phoenix.. I don't know," Persephone says. "The rules of the realm are unknown to me."
"I'll ask directly then. We won't get another chance at this; if we lose the Phoenix now rescuing it will pit us against an entrenched enemy in their seat of power, and the damage to the chick will be done. There's no reason to hold back, now. No better thing to fight for." Tasha then looks up, addressing Galatea. "Right? Here it is, a decision that has only upsides. There is no benefit to allowing those who come to capture the Phoenix, not here, not anywhere."
"I'm still researching the gate," Galatea says. "Until I have a solution, I've given you access to weapons from several realities. Use them liberally."
"I will make full use of them -- once I take a moment to catalog that is. How durable is this mountain? Can you tell? I'd hate to collapse the peak from all the fighting." Back to Persephone. "I'd like to talk more, but it seems we don't have much time. My arrival, if tracked, may spur actors to move. You said the Flame of Life is what brought me life again, does that mean I'm potentially compatible? Am I different from other forms of life?"
"The Flame of Life gives life to everything," Persephone says. "That said, you are my creation, and so have some of my spark.. my Flame. It was necessary for your unique reproductive abilities."
"So we are kind of related. That's nice to know." Tasha grins. "So, then, there's a chance. Well, it's better than no chance, and it might make the difference. Even with all Galatea's arsenal and all our might, we may face the leaders of these warring factions, including the Old King and his avatars. I'll definitely ask the Phoenix when I'm out of... uh... myself."
"Well, if we're done, I will release you now," Persephone says. "Unless there is anything else?"
Redfang whispers, "You gotta seduce that one! She's made of crystal!"
Tasha laughs at that. "No I am not seducing my creator again, it never works out and we always feel awkward afterward." This, out loud. And out loud again she adds, "Uh, no, I think I learned what I needed to -- and again, thank you. What you said really does mean more than I can say. Now I am that much more sure I'm on the right track."
The dragon nods, and Tasha is back in the Phoenix cave.
Tasha blinks a few times; the Phoenix is very bright. "I consulted with the many voices inside me, and we have come to several decisions. One, we will defend you, and your chick, with all our might. Two, my nature may be compatible with yours -- that may be important if things go badly. And, if you are willing, your own end may be useful as a final deterrent, and if necessary, weapon to secure your chick's escape. If I can I will remain here through the denotation, if not, I will wake myself and arrive through the gate in person, potentially with additional help. Three, it may be useful for me to bond with you. I have found my creative force. The bond would allow me to defend you better, and others besides. To bring life where it has gone to ruin, has been forgotten."
After a deep breath, Tasha concludes with, "Four, if you have any knowledge of the area, defenses, possible assailants and their nature and strengths, we would hear it."
"Moon-Beasts," the Phoenix says. "That is all the Dark Side has. Or darker things from the depths beyond the black lake, but they are not fond of light, warmth and light."
"Then we'll use light as our advantage. High intensity flares and other aerial luminance should be useful. I've met a few Moon-Beasts and they seem like they'd be strong close combat opponents, and possibly strong mentally, and in psionics and other mental powers. Is that so?" Tasha looks around the cavern. There's a bend, which is useful for obscuring and blocking lines of sight.
"They are mysterious, but have no fear or need of light," the Phoenix says. "Those from the tunnels of the underground may be different."
"They will bring the Silver Chain to bind me though, to prevent me from completing my cycle," the Phoenix says. "They will try to capture me before I immolate if they can."
"And a god resides there. Tangling with a god is an ominous prospect, but at least from what I've heard they are staying out of the fighting, for now. We can't assume they'll remain out, however. If they sense weakness they may try and seize you as a bargaining chip. We'll just have to deal with that if it happens." Tasha scratches her nose; the Phoenix also makes her nose very dry. "And the Moon-Beasts. I suppose we'll see what they're capable of." And then a nod. "Can this Chain be destroyed? It sounds like more than just a chain made of silver."
"It is a concept, I doubt it can be destroyed," the Phoenix says. "But it should be easy to spot in this darkness."
"So if it's a manifested concept we should eliminates its carriers and attempt to secure it, then we can try and get rid of it somehow. If it is just the expression of a concept, then maybe destroying the being who is manifesting it may be in order. If we can. It may also be possible to oppose it with a counter-concept, but I'm not sure how to do that." As she talks Tasha starts browing her now expanded armory. She'll need weapons of ranges up to a few miles -- the height of the mountain and its immediate area below and the skies around. She expects fighting to eventually reach her immediate area as well; she expects masses of weaker enemies and the possibility of a few immensely powerful ones.
There are a lot of selections, from high-energy rail-guns to strange alien beam weapons and things that look like living creatures. Then there are things like the Fusion Cannon that are shoulder mounted.
Tasha does her best to speed-read through the collection. She aims for energy efficency and accuracy in the area weapons for ranged, then safety and accuracy up close. For the single targets she aims for absolute power and accuracy, with the addition of safety for close range; she knows she won't have much time to address the most powerful beings before they level their might at her. And, as a backup, she explores weapons of mass destruction, in case she doesn't have the luxury of precision, accuracy, nor time.
For relatively large scale destruction, the Fusion Gun uses a particle beam of boron nuclei to trigger aneutronic nuclear fusion in the target, which can affect up to a kilometer with shockwave and heat. For up close, there is an alien looking thing simply called a Disintegrator Pistol. It temporarily neutralizes electron charges, causing molecules to fall apart. It comes with a warning that disintegrated matter may coalesce as a film covering nearby surfaces.
Tasha suspects she is going to really wreak up the moon. She wonders if anyone will be able to see the approaching devastation from back down on the planet. "Well. These are all terrifying. And that's good in this case. Oh, I should probably select a close combat weapon and some armor." She starts looking for that, then she realizes she's just sitting there spacing out and tells the Phoenix. "I'm ready weapons and plotting strategy and tactics."
"Raze the mountainside," the Phoenix suggests. "I cannot attack."
"Then I will. Or do you mean, immediately?" Without waiting for an answer, Tasha manifests the alarmingly dangerous Fusion Gun, hoping it's compatible with the winged. She also reminds herself to create some armor and a close combat weapon; despite their primitive nature she's found herself using one suprisingly often.
For close combat.. she's always got the Yellow Sword and the Blue Shield.
"Don't let them get close," Galatea advises. "We should see what we're up against."
Tasha notes her own powers; better to spread her resources out so as to avoid taxing a single one of them. She readies her mind to manifest the fell Yellow and eternal Blue and hopes the creatures that come are vulnerable to that gnawing madness. "Yes. Lets go." Tasha rises, then bows. "Well, we're heading to the cave entrance. Combat may begin immediately. And one last thing... Are you willing to die to see your chick free?"
"I am going to die anyway," the Phoenix points out.
"I know. But it's polite to ask first." Tasha bows again, and then she heads off, adjusting the Fusion Cannon on her shoulder. "Why doesn't anyone make weapons that take wings in to account... "
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