078: I'm a million different people from one day to the next

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> Disdaining the Skirl's offer for the moment, the party retreats back down the cavern to seek out other prospects. The worm's abode is found without too much trouble after a short jaunt across the river Styx: ringed by a broken stone wall, a graveyard rests. From an outside glance, most of the headstones are worn to nubs or tumbled over, and the vaults lean drunkenly. The rusted remnants of an iron gate creak mournfully in the wind.
<Julia> Julia sends Shenkin in ahead before following after him. Not that she plans to offer him up as payment to the worm right away, but he can surely take care of himself.
<Franceska> Not looking anywhere near as miserable as she feels by merely being on this plane, Franceska joins Julia in this.
<El-Cideon> "It is hardly the most welcoming home that we could hope to find," Rosemund observes before stepping out of the ship's protective bubble. "But I suppose we could hardly expect to find any such thing out here, could we?"
<Julia> "It can't be all bad," Julia says. Vigilia came from here after all.
<El-Cideon> Just within the gate is a statue--an eerily lifelike one of a young human man, dressed in rags. It's kneeling and looks paused in the act of praying. It's also not placed on a plinth or in any way obviously meant to be displayed; it looks rather brusquely shoved out of the path, really.
<Julia> Lifelike statues are the worst. You never can tell if there's a person in there, now...
<Franceska> "You know," Franceska muses. "Once upon a time I would simply consider this a statue, but after Azure...."
<Julia> "You read my mind," Julia says. "Er... Rosemund?" she gestures vaguely at the statue. It might be worth testing!
<El-Cideon> Rosemund eyes it with apparently similar thoughts. "I think perhaps on the way back!" she shouts over the gale.
<Julia> Nodding, Julia presses on into the cemetary.
<El-Cideon> Some of the graves you pass look excavated, or at least crudely burrowed into. More often than not, in fact. The names on the headstones are long since worn away by the wind, so there is no longer even a possibility of knowing whose desecration to mourn. Centrally, you find an open square ringing a badly eroded statue--it might once have been meant to depict an angel, given the flowing robes and winglike stubs jutting broken from its back, but by this point one can only guess. More humanlike statues in similar poses are positioned around it in a crude ring. At your approach, there's a stirring in the ground by the angel statue's feet, and a pale, wormlike head pokes itself up to peer cautiously at its visitors.
* Franceska keeps close to Rosemund and hopes the Worm likes Julia enough to make this work.
<Julia> "Hello, are you the Worm? We're looking for information on someone trapped in Agathion and would like to discuss your rates," Julia starts off.
<El-Cideon> OOC: how close are you approaching?
<Franceska> OOC: As close as Rosemund is
<Julia> OOC: at the edge of the ring of statues
<El-Cideon> The worm wriggles up out of the dirt to sit in a coil at the foot of the faceless statue. It has the vague semblance of a human face itself, but indistinct, only the faintest outline. *I accept that name as accurate* says a polite voice inside Julia's head. *First I must ask that you not approach closer than you have. It is hazardous*
<Julia> "I understand," Julia nods. She takes safety seriously! "So, what would it cost to learn the location of one called Phibous Liramar?"
<El-Cideon> *I require a corpse in exchange for information* the worm states simply. *Such is my sustenance and the source of my information. I retain the knowledge carried by those I consume. Therefore your contribution helps to provide answers for the next seeker of wisdom. Is that not equitable?* it adds proudly.
<Julia> "That is quite reasonable," Julia agrees. "We seem to leave corpses everywhere we go, anyway." She looks back to her companions, "Will we go and see what the Collective will cost now? I think the Worm will be hard to beat!"
<Franceska> "What exactly is the price?"
<El-Cideon> *May I hear more about the individual you seek?* the Worm asks Julia. *I know much, but perhaps not all* it admits grudgingly.
<Julia> "A corpse. Any corpse," Julia says, realising that the exchange was only in her head.
<Franceska> "So we kill someone who deserves it and return here, and then we have our information?"
<Julia> Turning back to the worm she explains, "He's an elven sorcerer, he was a companion of Galina Merowyn, he murdered Licia Senacott, and afterwards was picked up by the winds and deposited somewhere in Agathion," she gives the highlight reel.
<El-Cideon> *Agathion is composed of many cells* the Worm points out. *I admit I do not know which one specifically holds this man you seek. But, if you were able to provide me a more specific location, I can promise the means of accessing his cell are within my knowledge. I specialize in this way. Much that is ancient and otherwise forgotten has been provided to me by the residents of this cemetery. Would that be satisfactory?*
<Julia> It seems you get what you pay for even with strange planar information dealers. "Yes, if we find more information we'll come with that and a corpse," Julia agrees, backing off. Time to find the Collective then. Oh, and check on that statue...
<El-Cideon> Rosemund follows Julia back to the gate, approaches the statue with a speculative look, and then casts a spell to attempt to free it from its (possible) state of binding!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+13 break enchantment?
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+13 break enchantment? and gets 17."12 [1d20=4]
<El-Cideon> The figure remains stubbornly immobile and stony. Rosemund frowns, gives Julia an uncertain shrug.
<Julia> "Must just be good sculpture," Julia shrugs as well, going to board the boat.
<El-Cideon> Further down the river, it's easy to spot the church you were told to look out for. It might once have been a proud cathedral, but the spires and buttresses are all broken around a low, disreptuably hulking bulk that squats disconsolately by the riverside. The frescoes and gargoyles surrounding the heavy front doors are windworn beyond all recognition; one gets the vague suspicion from lingering suggestions of unearthly anatomy that this state of disrepair might be for the better.
<Julia> While the succubus and angel guard the boat, Shenkin once more takes point for Julia so he can absorb any potential ambushes with his toughened undead flesh!
<Franceska> "Actually," Franceska voices. "Do you want to bother killing someone who needs it, or would it be easier to just find a graveyard?"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund puts her shoulder up against the windworn door, which creaks in protest and ultimately is forced open with the joint strength of Vigilia and the reanimated demon. The church is dark within, and Rosemund has to light the way forward past rows and rows decrepit pews--but at least within the dusty confines of the church you can hear and speak normally out of the wind. "I wonder whose church this was?" she speculates, walking along. "Was it the god that died, or only its followers?"
<Franceska> "Why not both?"
<Julia> "Whichever we come across first," Julia says to Franceska. "But we need more information about Phibous to be sure the Worm can tell us. I suppose that explains the cheap price."
<El-Cideon> Tiel beams in protest at Franceska's suggested options. "Let us not go graverobbing!" the archon insists. "Dealing with a creature that eats the dead is bad enough."
<Franceska> "The undead would be the ones graverobbing, it's not as if we'll need to dig ourselves."
<El-Cideon> "That does not make it any better!"
<Franceska> "It does for me."
<Julia> "Worms eat the dead everywhere. It doesn't make much difference that this one can talk," Julia says, stepping inside and looking about for any sign of this Collective.
<El-Cideon> What can only be your quarry lurks at the far end of the church. A shape--a host of shapes--comes into view at the edge of Rosemund's light. Adhering to the vaulted ceiling above the broken altar is a massive conglomeration of bodies: human, elf, orc, various low species of fiends, mostly humanoid but with some more bestial shapes mixed in. They have become conjoined into one unified mass of flesh, pale and leeched of color, that hangs above and peers down at you with a multitude of eyes. "Welcome, seekers," ripples out in a multitude of voices. "Welcome to our home."
<Julia> That doesn't look very pleasant. "Hello, we're interested in buying information," Julia says. "Might I ask what your rates are?"
<El-Cideon> The mass extrudes a tendril of bodies down to your level to get a better look and communicate face to face, as it were. The column terminates in the upper body of a human woman with an unnervingly friendly smile; her long hair hangs upside down as she addresses you in echoing harmony with her multitudinous kin. "We have only one desire," the Collective sings out. "But it is meaningless to speak of bargains if we know not what you seek. Tell us what you require; if it is within our power to provide the answers you need, then we may discuss terms."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund recoils in frank disgust, happy to let Julia do the talking here if she wishes.
<Franceska> "There is an elven mage, Phibous Liramar. We wish to know where on Agathion he is," Franceska says, to not force Julia to deal with everything horrible on this plane on her own.
<El-Cideon> The Collective's immediate representative turns to appraise Franceska, unnecessary as this perverse semblance of personal interaction is with the whole host of eyes and faces above you. "We know of this man," the Collective states proudly. "We know where he is kept. We know how to reach him. We know who holds him. We count one of her servants among our number."
<Franceska> "And your desire?"
<El-Cideon> "Our desire is incorporation," the Collective answers eagerly.
<Franceska> "Of anyone in particular?"
<El-Cideon> "Are any of you prepared to volunteer?" the Collective asks first.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund shakes her head violently.
<Franceska> "I'm afraid not."
<Julia> Julia shakes her head as well. A pity since this seems to have the best information.
<Franceska> "I could volunteer one of his captors?"
<El-Cideon> "That is unfortunate," the Collective emits mournfully. "Do we not grow through experience? What can we expect to understand of the worlds with only one feeble lifetime's perception? WE seek to learn through others, and offer them that gift in return. How better to comprehend the multitude of realms than through association with its myriad concrete manifestations? We lament that so few are open to this possibility. It is a limitation of the individual perspective you would learn to forsake quite happily, we promise you. Ah, but you are in luck!" the Collective adds with a joyful outthrusting of the human woman's arms. "This elf's prison contains something of interest to us as well."
<Franceska> "That might work as well. What is it?"
<El-Cideon> "Long ago, a god deposited within that cell an organism of nature quite uncharacteristic to the realms of the great wheel. An intrusion from realities less fully formed. We should value its contribution." The Collective bursts into a rapturous smile all across its many faces. "Oh, what it could tell us of times undreamed of! Of creation itself! But, as you may perceive, mobility is not one asset incorporation has benefited us. If you would promise to retrieve this creature for us--or perhaps just a seed of such, if such eases your conscience and proves more within your means--we should provide you means to reach it. Is this agreeable?"
<Julia> "Well, we'll have to consider now that we've heard all three," Julia demurs, thinking it worth talking over amongst the group.
<El-Cideon> "We should add for your consideration: we would insist upon a geas to ensure compliance, if you should leave us on promise of later repayment," the Collective says. "We have come to find this a necessary measure in dealing with the inhabitants of Pandemonium."
<Julia> "That's understandable," Julia says, retreating back to the boat so they can all confer.
* Franceska inclines her head, following suit.
<El-Cideon> ~