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Summation

Started by Brian, April 22, 2005, 01:54:33 AM

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Brian

IRC logs of key scenes in the summary of the Earth Dream:

Rez and Durant vs. the Archonae on their home turf

<Brian> Alrighty.  In our last episode of The Dreadmarch Saga, Rez, some wizards, and a magically non-Paul-like Paul headed to deal with the Archonae.
<Rez> And we had outselves a big To Be Continued sign and a cliffhanger.
<Brian> We now begin on the far side of the portal, assuming Rez managed to grab everything he'd need.
<Brian> If not, tell me what you're planning on bringing.
<Rez> OK, anyway.  Can't think of anything else I was going to bring apart from sword, pouch full of stuff, and Paul.
<Brian> Ah, bringing the Archonae-crafted sword to their stronghold.  Got it.
<Rez> Actually, *snaps fingers*  That was a question I meant to ask Ekim before I left - were the archonae likely to be able to -detect- my sword?
<Brian> Ekim doesn't think the Archonae are really that concerned with the sword.  If they were, they would have sent someone to get it.


<Brian> The scene is thus: All are standing in the tower, wearing lorekeeper's robes, or putting on robes over their armor (Astryd and Radagast say it makes the illusion easier to maintain).
<Brian> Eske is waiting for everyone to agree that they're ready before opening the portal.
<Brian> Paul looks uncomfortable, and shifts from foot-to-foot ... though right now he looks uncomfortably identical to one of the lorekeepers that was executed for treason.  Of course, Nathan looks like the other one to Paul, so....
<Rez> Which one is Paul and which one am I?
<Brian> You're Neil.  He's Ashton.
<Brian> The portal opens, and reveals a large (and dim) chamber faintly illuminated by the glow of multiple torches.  The center of the chamber looks like a narrow funnel, or a steep pool that's been dry for some time ... light doesn't extend far into it.  The walls are squared, and seem to be made of a single, water-carved stone ... except for the precision of their construction.
<Brian> There's a door in each wall.
<Brian> Eske and Radagast (as Mattias) step through, followed by Astryd.
Rez follows Astryd through.
<Brian> Paul is right behind Nathan.
<Brian> The portal vanishes once everyone's through, and then:
<Brian> "Ho, there," a faint, somewhat ephemereal voice calls.  As Nathan turns, he sees an Archon, though this one is only about three quarters as tall as the one that he saw near the Dark Citadel.  His skin is tinted lightly blue, even in this light.  "Friend Lorekeepers, this place is closed to humans now."
<Brian> He looks apologetic.
Rez blinks in surprise.
Rez decides to look blankly surprised for a few seconds to give Radagast the chance to jump in if need be.
<Brian> 'Mattias' nods, and says, "I know, Friend Archon.  But we ask you to call your elders.  There is a matter of some minor urgency."
<Brian> The Archon snorts.  "Nay, Friend Lorekeeper.  I'll not tell my masters you have come, else they'll have you killed, as they did Lightmaster Rowic, once his work was done."
<Brian> Eske's jaw drops, Radagast's eyes narrow, and his pleasant smile becomes a hard line.  Astryd's eyes widen before she faints ... but the illusion remains intact.
Rez turns to regard Astryd, then frowns at the Archonae.
<Brian> "I see," Eske says quietly.  "Why was Rowic slain, if I might ask?"
<Brian> "You might," the Archon admits.  "But the answer saddens me.  The elders said that he was of no use, and ... would not serve their chosen.  With control of him lost, Lorekeepers, the Council of Elders decreed that Lorekeepers are enemies of the Archonae.  Save Solariat, and those loyal to him.  I know you," he says, nodding at Radagast.
<Brian> "And I know you are loyal.  So I will not say that I have seen you, which would cause my elders to slay you, as well.  But you should leave this place soon."
<Brian> "Thank you," Radagast says, Mattias's face looking very weary on him for a moment.  "I had not ... expected this."  Paul helps Astryd up, and she appears to regain consiousness, but doesn't speak.
<Rez> "We were sent on an errand by Solariat himself and have returned with more loyal lorekeepers - why would they slay us?"
Rez shakes his head blankly.
<Rez> "I don't understand."
<Brian> The Archon sighs, and shakes his head.  "I do not like it," he says very quietly, looking back over one shoulder cautiously.  "But my Elders say that those they have contracted with ... those who opposed Starmaster Journe.  All who have been to Stormwall Keep are not to be trusted.  There is a taint from another world there, I am told.  One which shall lead to our destruction."
<Brian> After a moment, he adds, "I am told."
<Brian> "I am sure if you leave this place, and give them a mere decade to consider things they will calm down, though," he adds hopefully.
<Brian> Paul starts slipping to one side, jerking his head slightly at Eske.  Eske coughs, and takes a step in the opposite direction, looking towards the dark pit.  "Such ... unfortunate news," he says, as the Archon turns towards him, and Paul vanishes from sight.  "Can the oracle no longer light the path to safety?"
<Rez> "They would kill us for doing the bidding of Solariat?" Rez does his best to sound faintly dazed, and steps towards the Archonae, regarding it curiously.  "What would Solariat have us do, then?  And will they not know of our presence here?"
<Brian> The Archon sighs, and hangs his head.  "Our oracle no longer speaks to us except in curses.  Something was done to make it furious with us."  The Archon looks on the verge of saying ... or asking ... something else, but instead shakes his head.  Turning to Nathan he says, "Go to Solariat.  He is still trusted.  Perhaps by rejoining him you will be spared my elder's wrath."
<Brian> Then he pauses, and turns slowly.  "Were there not five of you a moment ago?" he asks.
<Brian> Radagast shakes his head.  "The Well of Souls distracted you," he suggests.  "Tell me, what curses does the Oracle speak?"
Rez blinks in surprise and looks back towards the others, rubbing the back of his head (and not incidentally moving his hand closer to his sword hilt).
Rez remains looking faintly bewildered.
<Brian> The Archon frowns, and turns back to Radagast.  "It says that it must be at the site of destruction less ... less all be lost.  But we cannot go to Stormwall ... for it is tainted."
<Brian> "Rowic," Astryd whispers, before turning to look at the depression in the floor.
<Brian> "You musn't!" the Archon says, sounding slightly agitated.  "The Well should not be used for such -- my Elders will know!"
<Brian> From the depression on the floor, a blob of shadow trickles upwards ... a man-sized globe of the stuff.  It swiftly coalesces into a man-shap, too.
<Brian> "Rowic?" Astryd asks it, backing away, her eyes wide.
<Brian> The Archon shakes his head.  "Come with me, switftly," he says.  "We should not be here."
<Brian> "What was done with the Well of Souls?" Eske asks, staring at the apparition, which looks like a man ... torn and lacerated, his right arm hanging by a scrap of flesh.  But he's also semi-transparant, and seems to ... distort, as though it were impossible to clearly focus on the thing.
Rez nods and moves to steps closer to to behind the archon, hand on the back of his neck - then glances at 'Mattias', surreptitiously points at where his sword should be, and glances at the Archon.
<Brian> "Rowic's work," the Archon says, shaking his head.  "The Well of Souls now ... no longer frees souls.  It traps them for the Elders to use."  He hangs his head.  "I am ashamed, Lorekeepers.  Please ... leave this place before they come," he pleads.
<Brian> Radagast glances at Nathan, and shakes his head slightly.
Rez lowers his hand and nods slowly.
<Rez> "You . . . will take us to see Solariat?"
<Brian> "He is not here," the Archon says.  "He remains with the Collegiate."
<Brian> A piercing wail breaks the quiet, and the chamber suddenly brightens, revealing a ... non-glowing absence of light shaped like a column over the pit.  It sounds like someone just tripped an alarm.
Rez visibly stops himself from saying something and looks at the Archonae with a foul look that quickly shifts into 'worried'.
<Brian> The Archon stands up, and looks behind him.  Paul emerges from one of the side-corridors, running like hell, something bulky and glowing tucked beneath one arm.  He takes about three steps into the room before he suddenly freezes in place, immobile.
<Brian> His cloak is still halfway flared behind him, too.  Just hanging in the air.
<Rez> Did the archon do anything visible?
<Brian> No.
<Brian> Radagast pulls his gun from one pocket, and Eske readies his staff.  Astryd pulls a knife from her belt, and another Archon enters the room from behind Paul.
Rez waits for the Archon to react, moving again to position it between he and Paul.
<Brian> This one looks properly Archon-sized, without the slightly blue-tinted skin.
<Rez> And moving his hand up to hold the hilt of his sword.
<Brian> "Ervard," he says, his eyes locking with the Archon you were speaking with momentarily.  This new Archon waves one hand, and all the illusions are dispelled.
Rez draws his sword and breaks into a sprint towards Paul.
<Brian> The Lorekeepers freeze.  They might have been able to jump a single young Archon, but now things are looking dicey, and with that alarm still sounding....  "Ervard!" the new Archon speaks again, his expression grim.  "Humans!  And you did not report them to us?"
<Brian> The Archon gestures at Nathan with his other hand, and Nathan finds himself immobilized.
<Brian> Ervard grimaces.  "We don't need to kill them," he says, shaking his head.  "They can go to Solariat, and--"
<Brian> "They oppose Solariat, Ervard," the new Archon growls.
<Brian> Ervard frowns.  Then he looks at Radagast.  And Nathan.  And Eske.  And the other Archon.  "Time is of the essence," he says, gravely.  "Are we then subservient to Solariat's will, that we do his chores for him?"
<Brian> The other Archon seems surprised at this question.  "Ervard, we will discuss this later.  Summon Skye, and have these humans killed."
Rez attempts, probably with complete futility, to move. At all.
<Brian> Nathan find he could speak, but not move.
<Brian> While immobile, the Lorekeers aren't helpless.  A portal appears beneath the Archon, sending him up to the height of the ceiling, and across the room.  This doesn't seem to bother him that much, but it does appear to move him beyond the range for whatever was pinning everyone in place.
<Brian> He floats down, and the holds are broken.  "Astryd!" Radagast calls, turning around and sending a shot towards the Archon that's slowly drifting down.  "Blind them!  Eske, we must leave now!"
Rez looks to see what Paul is doing, then Ervard.
<Brian> Ervard is looking at the other Archon, and has produced a small dragon statuete, which he flings across the room.
<Brian> Astryd puts one hand out and begins chanting quietly.  A ball of light like a tiny, white sun appears before her, and then explodes, blinding everyone for a moment.  Apparently the Archonae are more sensitive to the light, however, as both of them freeze.
<Brian> The statuete explodes into a full-sized red dragon (this is a pretty big room), which is now rushing at the other Archon, fire erupting from it's mouth.  Things are probably about to get ugly.  Paul resumes motion, and Eske opens a portal halfway between himself and the bard.
Rez runs after Paul!
<Brian> "Friend Lorekeepers," Ervard calls out blindly, "remeber the Archon that allowed your survival to be possible.  The one who remained loyal to the oracle!"
<Brian> And then everyone's through the portal and it vanishes behind them.

Bjorn's self-realization and discussion with Alan

<Brian> So.  Setting the actual scene:
<Brian> That night, as Bjorn dreams, he doesn't see Nick, but Alan.  Though, this time Alan's not wearing his helm, it's sitting on his desk.  Bjorn appears to be sitting in a pretty comfortable green chair with a high back, and wings protruding forward -- very Victorian era.
<Brian> In fact, most of the room is.  Lamps glow softly without any clear point to produce that illumination, and the room is circular.  Alan's desk has his helm on it, and a stack of neat paperwork.  There's also a placard with his name that says: "Alan" and beneath that: "The leader of the Brotherhood of Morpheus is:" and a sliding tile that's currently shifted to display "in".
<Brian> The ceiling's about ten meters high, and every five meters around the periphery there's a column to support it.  Directly above is a mosaic of Morpheus (from the Sandman graphic novels, oddly (the white haired one)) looking down.  There's four archways that lead out of the room.  Three of them lead to walkways perched somewhere high over clouds, and the fourth is behind Alan's desk, leading to a large balcony.
<Brian> "Welcome," Alan says, wrapping a bandage around one forearm.  "Tea?"
Bjorn looks around, blinking as his brain takes a second to process the transition into the dream.  "Tea," he says, "yes."  Furrowing his brow, he holds out his hand, and imagines a cup of Earl Gray appearing therein.
<Brian> It appears as imagined.
<Bjorn> "Would you like one as well?" Bjorn offers, sipping from his cup.
<Brian> Alan shrugs, and summons a matching tea service, pouring himself a cup as well.  "Don't mind if I do," he says.  "Nice work on the battles so far, by the way."
<Bjorn> "So far."  Bjorn nods gravely.  "We just need to keep it going this well."
<Bjorn> He hesitates, then, putting the cup back in the saucer that he only now remembers to create as well.  "Thank you for your assistance today."
<Brian> "I didn't die," he answers.  "So I outdid my own expectations."  He takes a sip from his cup, and then sets it on the desk.  "Now, to the point, we've got a slightly broader window than usual for questions and answers.  What would you like to know?"
Bjorn looks off slightly up and off to the side, not meeting Alan's gaze.  "I... to be honest, I'm a bit uncomfortable talking about this, but I imagine that you put up with mystical-sounding bullshit more often than most."  Sighing, he rolls his shoulders, and faces Alan.  "To put it in the terms I think of it in, my mind is not the unmoving mind," he says, somewhat bluntly.  "And the reason is because I don't know what is right, because I don't, to be honest, completely understand the situation.  And if this keeps up... I'm going to make a mistake."
<Bjorn> "So what I'd like to do, with your permission, is tell you what I know of the nature of the Contest, and the Order of Symmetry.  And where I make a mistake, or just draw a blank, I'd like you to correct me.  Is that all right?"
<Brian> Alan nods.  "That makes sense," he agrees.  "My office is kept free of clutter for the purposes of visualization.  Feel free to form what images you need."
Bjorn nods his thanks, and then a roughly spherical aggolmeration of faintly glowing lights appears hovering in front of Alan's desk.
<Brian> The lights from the archways dim, and Bjorn's image seems to take on a slightly more tangible form than the periphery of the room.
<Bjorn> "Life," he says, by way of explanation.  "The Enemy is... outside this.  It doesn't entirely matter what the Enemy is.  What matters is that the Enemy wants to end life -- and maybe the reality that contains it.  What holds the enemy at bay," as a shimmering silver cloud appears around the globes, blurring them into a soft haze of light, "is the Dream."
<Bjorn> "But if life reaches a certain concentration," and through the haze, you can see the globes shrink and multiply, until the light is incandescent, "the Dream is no longer adequate to hold back the Enemy."
<Bjorn> He looks at Alan.  "More or less correct so far, yes?"
<Brian> Alan nods.  "That's right, except,  not just life.  Consciousness.  People, in particular."
Bjorn nods, accepting the correction.  "Right. The solution of Pax Arcana is the straightforward one.  Kill off three quarters of the people," and the number of globes of light drops back to the original level, "and the problem solves itself.  The downside being, well, that you had to kill three quarters of the population."
<Brian> Alan nods at that, grimacing.  "A poor solution, but the one they've chosen."
<Bjorn> With a glance, he brings the number of globes back up.  "The Cabal solution is a little more sophisticated.  It's *concentration*, not numbers that matter.  So the Cabal reached out and stole reality, grafting it onto ours.  That lets life spread out, and the density drops down below levels that draw the Enemy."
<Brian> "Exactly right," he agrees.
<Bjorn> With that, the spheres spread out, taking up three times again as much room, and the bright glare fades to a more tolerable glow.  "The problem is that when the Cabal increased the size of reality, they didn't increase the size of the Dream."  He waves his hand, and indeed, the silver haze is much thinner, clinging tighter to the globes.  "So if we continue with the Cabal's approach, eventually there simply won't be enough Dream to shield reality."
<Bjorn> The silver haze tears, and the globes flare once, and then are dark.
<Brian> "It breaks down at a fundemental level," Alan agrees.  "Then, the Enemy comes through as a physical manifestation of whichever aspect of the Dream would neutralize things to a non-state.  Things we can't fight because they're ... storms ... diseases.  Meteor strikes."
<Brian> "No consciousness ... no target we can interact with," he says, shrugging.  "We don't exist at that level anymore."
<Bjorn> "Okay.  Up to here is the part that I was fairly confident in."  Bjorn frowns, and the clump of spheres reassemble themselves.  "Which is bad, because it means I understand our competition's motives and issues better than our own.  Hence the need for this conversation."  He grins briefly and widely at Alan, and then returns to business.
<Brian> He smirks, taking another sip of his tea, but says nothing.
<Bjorn> "Right.  So there's another option, which seems obvious.  If the Dream protects us from the Enemy, then all we need to do is increase the power of the Dream."  The silver haze surges and then hardens, forming a solid sphere encasing the globes.  "A stronger Dream can hold the Enemy back, even with a greater concentration of minds pulling the Enemy in."
<Brian> Alan nods again.
<Bjorn> "So.  Two ways to go about that.  To begin with, it stands to reason that the chunks of reality that the Cabal stole had Dreams attached to them, once upon a time.  But now, they're just floating off by themselves somewhere."  With a shrug, Bjorn conjures little hazy silver clouds, floating about the core "reality" (its own haze back to its previous ephemeral state).  "If those can be stitched onto our Dream, just as their corresponding realities were attached to our reality, then the Dream becomes that much stronger."
<Bjorn> He frowns.  "But from what Nick said, this is what the Brotherhood is trying to accomplish -- it's not the Order's job.  Or am I wrong?"
<Brian> "That's right.  Our goal is, admittedly, incidental to the cause of the Order of Symmetry.  We're striving to build a balance.  Your Order should exist only to maintain it.  But over ages, that balance has been lost, and while we do what we can, without corporeal agents, our powers are limited."
<Brian> He takes a sip of his tea, draining the cup, and sets it aside, adding, "As it should be.  Realistically, the balance of power should be between the Brotherhood of Morpheus and all of the contestants of the Contest, which should in turn, balance one-another.  However, Pax Arcana and the Seventh Cabal no longer respect the Dream, or recognize its value.  They've forgotten that it exists ... or maybe simply don't care."
<Brian> "Either way, we need to stop Pax Arcana and the Seventh Cabal before they inadvertently destroy ... well ... potentially everything.  The Wanderer tells me there are spheres beyond our own, past the Enemy, and some would escape, ending up there.  He also speaks of the potential for what happens here to cascade out of control, causing the same thing on a larger scale--"
<Brian> "Imagine!  Entire worlds we're unaware of, and our ignorance could doom them as easily as our own.  Caution should obviously be exercised, but at the same...."  He trails off, shaking his head.
<Brian> "But I digress.  Go on?"
<Bjorn> "All right, then.  The goal of finding the lost Dreams is the task of the Brotherhood.  So, the second option.  This is where it gets unclear for me. But...."  Bjorn frowns again, staring at the globes.
<Brian> Alan raises an eyebrow curiously.
<Bjorn> "The Dream is not independent from the minds it protects.  They... *reinforce* each other.  Minds dream, which builds up the Dream; and the stronger the Dream is, the more it influences reality, giving minds more to dream about.  What's happened is that the connection between minds and Dream has become tenuous."  The globes and the cloud sit there, untouched.
<Bjorn> "What the Order of Symmetry is supposed to do, then, is tighten those connections, and bring the minds into harmony with the Dream."  With that, the golden light of the globes pales, as the silver haze of the Dream takes on a warmer hue, until finally, they both glow the same soft white, indistinguishable from each other.
<Bjorn> "The resulting feedback will naturally bring the Dream into a point where it can shield all the minds it contains -- because each of those minds will contribute to the strength of the Dream."
<Bjorn> He looks up at Alan.  "Is that more or less correct?"
<Brian> "That's right," Alan agrees.  "But ... we can't find the lost dreams easily.  We've lost most of our anchors -- those special minds that exist in both the Dream and the waking world at the same time.  This reduces our ability to act in those dreams.  This is why we're willing to ... cheat.  To help you win.  Your goal is the one that would also allow us to reach our own."
Bjorn nods, staring at the softly glowing nebula in the middle of the room.  "Am I right in thinking," he says abruptly, "that... magic, metahuman powers, whatever you want to call them, are the result of the interaction between Dream and reality.  Basically," he gropes for words, "a sort of... waking dream?"
<Brian> "Yes," Alan says.  "Those things draw from the Dream and make it reality.  This means that while you're not an anchor, you also exist -- at least partially -- in the Dream.  It's more a part of you than it would be for a normal person.  This also means that what happens at the end of the Contest will influence you more than others."
<Bjorn> "And if... *when* we win the Contest, there will be more people like me.  In fact, people already living might find they have powers, too?"
<Brian> "Yes," Alan says, nodding.  "As Ezmereth should have told you.  You're going to re-awaken magic in the world, should you win."
<Bjorn> "Yes, he did say," Bjorn says, with a shrug and a faint smile.  "But Ezmereth sounded like a riddle when he asked for another beer."  Glancing again at the nebula, he adds, "And now I *understand*.  That's an enormous difference."  
<Bjorn> The nebula vanishes.  "So what exactly *is* the Contest?" Bjorn asks, his tone much more relaxed.  "How does this work?  We get the attention of all the Dreams and then... what?  A shining ray of light descends from Heaven and asks us our wish?"
<Brian> Alan steeples his hands together.  "You're lucky," he says quietly.  "I had to fight Charrel and the Wanderer to even get the information that you're asking for -- and three of my men died in those attempts."
<Bjorn> Bjorn furrows his brow.  "Wouldn't... Len know?"
<Brian> "He chose to forget, sacrificing his knowledge to let the Brotherhood survive a few more decades," Alan says, grimacing.  "Much remains lost.  Regardless: What it works out to is this.  There is a place on Earth, a physical location that can only be reached by a living being.  One who specifically has attained the wards of each Dream.  In this place, will defines reality."
<Brian> "It will only appear when there is an imbalance between the waking world and the Dream.  Nominally, if the Order of Symmetry were winning, it would not even appear."
<Bjorn> "Except for the axioms of the Dream, right?  'Nothing cannot be undone.'"
<Brian> Alan grins.  "Of course.  And now Len knows once more."
<Bjorn> "Right."  He grins back, and then frowns, a thought striking him.  "So could an independent win?"
<Brian> He frowns, and looks about moodily.  "Reality is a world of limitations.  Only in the Dream is nothing impossible.  It's those limitations that allow life to be what it is.  A life with limitless possibility would be a life of infinite chaos.  The only way someone could reach that point is if they were sponsored by an Oracle.  As Relm sponsored you."
<Brian> "Someone could," he says slowly, frowning, "I suppose, merge dream and another soul into another Oracle, and then create an entirely new faction.  Even if it were only a faction of one.  So ... it would be possible in theory.  I don't know that it's ever been tried, though."
<Bjorn> "So, without an Oracle, you can get the wards of all the Dreams, and you still wouldn't be able to reach the reality-definition spot."  Bjorn nods at that.  
<Bjorn> "Hey, wait a minute," Bjorn mutters, his brow furrowing.  "Nick said that the Dreams that we enter in the Contest are those abandoned Dreams from Cabal's expansions.  Or am I remembering wrong?"
<Brian> Alan nods.  "That's correct," Alan says.  "Those are the lost dreams, which only I have the strength to enter.  And even then, only briefly."
<Bjorn> "But from what I remember, the first two contests were won by the Order and Pax, respectively.  So what did they need?"
<Brian> "Those Dreams aren't merged, but they're still there.  You cannot control reality only in part and expect to have your will done.  Therefore, it's neccesary to attune yourself to the dreams that controlled those parts of reality that were once separate."
<Brian> "Think of it as a geas.  Those dreams are dead, but their curse lingers, and until it's lifted, you can't act against the world they represent.  I imagine that they see it as a chore and a barrier to keep people from casually reshaping the world.  Which I suppose it does."
<Bjorn> "So, before the Cabal got their way, all that was needed was to be the first on the spot with an Oracle backing you?  And that's the situation that will arise again once we've both accomplished our goals?"
<Brian> "That's just it," Alan says, grinning.  "No other Oracle will be able to know where this place is but Pandora -- and it moves, so they couldn't simply remember where it had been.  Normally, as long as the dream was respected, we would not side with one faction, and thus we'd set challenges to earn that information."
<Bjorn> "Pandora.  Your Oracle?" Bjorn tries to recall.
<Brian> "That's right," Alan says, nodding.  "Ezmereth's wife, originally."
<Brian> "Now, how would they learn where it was without our assistance?  Well, when the Order of Symmetry originally fell, Pandora sacrificed herself by being imprisoned in a sphere.  This sacrifice, or loss to us made her knowledge part of the Dream.  So that the location of the place where all Dream and Reality meet could be divined by the other Oracles."
<Bjorn> "I see," Bjorn nods.
<Brian> "Now if they want to know that location, they'll need to drag it from us.  And even though I'm sure Pandora already knows where it is, none of us will ask, so I'm thinking as long as we don't die out, there will be no easy way for your foes to discover that."
<Brian> "Our foes," he corrects himself, grimacing slightly.
Bjorn raises his eyebrow.  "So you've found Pandora again?"
<Bjorn> "So not all of the Oracles know the location of the spot?"
<Brian> "Pandora was rediscovered only recently," Alan says.  "She and Relm are currently working together.  Relm will know, eventually.  But the other Oracles will not."
Bjorn grunts thoughtfully, his eyes going distant as he processes that.  "Sorry," he says after a second.  "That's something that requires careful thought.  I'll need to warn Nathan about that.
<Brian> He pauses, and taps a finger thoughtfully on his helm.  "Indeed.  Now that Rasputin is dead, they're undoubtedly rebuilding him to optimize their attempt to garner that information.  An Oracle who falls will only reshape themselves to be more appropriate to the task they failed at initially."
<Brian> "Of course, Rasputin was decent at hunting the other Oracles.  His successor will be much better.  But ... that's my responsibility.  I stopped him so that Ayame could become Relm more quickly.  It will take Rasputin substantially more time to recover, whoever he becomes."
<Bjorn> "Another question, if we still have time.  To shape reality at that site, what does it take?  A single person who's been granted the ward of all the Dreams?  Five people?  Or any number of people, marked by the same Oracle, who among them have the wards of all the Dreams?"
<Brian> "Any number of people," he answers.  "And since I'm certain Nathan will ask you ... Flint was something of an anti-anchor.  We could not appear in his presence in the Dream because of his specific connection to the waking world.  So it was not my intent to let Ayame die."
Bjorn nods at that, slowly.  "Thank you, Alan," he says, very seriously.  "I know what I have to do now."
<Bjorn> He sighs, and then takes a sip.  Making a face, he banishes it, and summons a new mug, this one still steaming.  "Is there anything I can do for you, then?"
<Brian> He nods.  "Purpose is a requirement for a battle with this much resting on your shoulders."  He raises an eyebrow again, and waves a hand, banishing the projection Bjorn left active, and returning his office to its original state.  "There is one thing, though it's a difficult task, and I won't blame you if you choose to do it later.  But if you do wish to aid us, it would increase our own ability to aid you."
<Bjorn> "And that is?"
<Brian> "You will be entering the lost dreams.  As you do, we can tell you what must be done to allow them to merge with the proper Dream.  But it is not always an easy task.  When it's done, we become stronger, and thus, one would hope, more able to help you."
Bjorn nods.  "Certainly.  And, I presume, there is something we can do in the Earth Dream?"
<Brian> "If you win the war, you've won your task.  If you end the war for all time, you will have caused an alteration to the dream which will allow us to merge it," he explains.  "I'm not certain that this was explained to you correctly last time."
<Brian> "What this will mean is hunting down and destroying the Archonae who are opposed to humanity ... and Solariat.  I wouldn't suggest trying it until after you've won the siege."
<Bjorn> "Indeed," Bjorn says, a bit drily.  "Well.  I think that I put the seeds of just such a revolution in place, so I tend to think that I have an obligation to see things through."  He frowns.  "How are we supposed to return from this Dream, though?  If we win the war, won't the Dream awaken and send us back?"
<Brian> "It will send you back.  But as you're attuned to the Dream, you can re-enter it through the Dreamer with you.  Durant can guide you back any time you sleep."
<Brian> "Though," he adds belatedly, "make sure you do it while someone can oversee your bodies."
<Bjorn> "And we'll... pre-empt our Dream-selves?" Bjorn says, somewhat uncomfortably.
<Brian> Alan shakes his head.  "Only if you want to," he says.  "Otherwise, their personalities will remain with you.  You can either control them, or guide them.  Or work with them, as you see fit."
<Bjorn> "Then," Bjorn says, "I'll need his permission too.  But I'm quite sure that with or without me, he'll be working to the same end."
<Brian> Leaning back, he muses, "It may even be possible to simply exchange places with them.  I'll leave it up to you to decide the wisdom in that."
<Bjorn> Bjorn snorts softly.
<Brian> "I do know that your alternate self can lend you his Dream in the waking world ... but your ability there depends on your strength in the Dream.  He may also borrow things from you, if you're willing to let him."  And here Alan frowns.  "Something to be aware of, however ... some of your other-selves may not be the same gender as yourself.  This can be ... disconcerting.  You're probably best off knowing that it can happen in advance."
<Bjorn> Looking around the room, he asks, "If there's nothing else, is there a chance I might speak with our Oracle?"
<Brian> "Certainly," he says, nodding.  A shimmering mirror appears, in which Relm can be seen, dabbling her toes in her pool outside the temple.
<Brian> She looks up expectantly.  "Pandora?" she asks.
<Bjorn> "I'm afraid not, Pythia," Bjorn says, gravely.  "Only one of your humble priests."
<Brian> "Ah, Reverend Bjorn," she says, smirking.  "There you are.  What's up?"
<Bjorn> "This and that.  Smiting the infidels in they name, so on and so forth.  How's things in New Delphi?"
<Brian> "Coming together nicely.  We've got electricity, internet.  You should come back and see it some time.  We may even get sidewalks someday!"
<Bjorn> "What about our numbers?  Have we gathered up most of the Workshop refugees?"
<Brian> "I think all of those that would be willing to fight, yes," she says, nodding.  "We've even picked up some of their friends, and a handful of normal people.  We're working on building housing and plumbing at the moment."
<Bjorn> "How long have we been in the Dream?"
<Brian> "It's early June," Relm answers.
<Bjorn> "Six months or so, then."  Bjorn frowns.  "Slower than I had hoped for.  Pythia, our biggest problem right now is that Cabal is well in the lead, when I want them, in particular, in last place.  I gather," he glances at Alan, "that they're having some problems with their Oracle, but I'd rather take it a few steps beyond that."
<Brian> "Okay," she says, frowning.  "What did you have in mind?"
<Bjorn> "There's probably not that much that can actually be *done*... but what I'd be very grateful for, when we finish in this Dream, is a list of options.  The Cabal has connections to both Forge and the Home Guard, as well as a bunch of governments.  I want to know *what* those connections are, and ideally, how to destroy, disrupt, or better yet subvert them."
<Bjorn> He gives her a lop-sided grin.  "As I've been reminded, right now both Pax and the Cabal know a lot about us, while we know precious little about them.  Let's see what New Delphi can do to settle that score, eh?  After all, balance is our job."  He winks at her.
<Brian> "That's good to look into," she agrees.  "Take away their tools, take away their power.  I've got a lot of info on the Forge and Home Guard specifically already, but there's innumerable other organizations out there to contend with as well.  I'll see what else I can glean from uncle Raspy's corpse."
<Bjorn> "What I would *really* like, to be honest, is some names and profile on the Pax and Cabal five."
<Brian> "Hmm," she muses, frowning.  "That's going to be tricky, but if you've met them, then there's going to be some connection I can work with.  Okay, that's a goal."
<Bjorn> "Any sage advice for me, then, O Pythia?"
<Brian> "Preservere," she says.  "You're doing well against what many would consider impossible odds."
Bjorn glances at Alan.  "Will imposes itself on the Dream," he says, "and Dream and reality are parts of the same thing."  He shrugs.  "They have more resources, but in the end, the Contest is just a question of willpower, isn't it?"
<Brian> "In a small sense," Relm says.  "It's not about personal will, as much as projecting that will on others.  It's a good idea to have enough resolve to see things though for yourself before you try and get into the Contest, though," she says.
<Brian> Alan nods in agreement.
<Bjorn> "Well, then," Bjorn says briskly, "if there's nothing else, then I should go back to projecting my will on to others, I'd say."
<Brian> "Okay," Relm says.  "Good luck!"
<Brian> She vanishes, and Alan says, "I'll see that you remember this when you wake up," and then ... you wake up!

Bjorn's conversation with Lindsey

<Brian> Okay.  In this scene, it's shortly before bedtime before the big battle.  Elric is tomorrow, and it's going to be a busy day.
<Brian> The moon is up, and Lindsey has just yesterday been cleared from suspicion after revealing the final traitor.
<Brian> Durant is still in hiding, though the team knows he's about, and he's once more on thinking terms with Bjorn (though, he does vanish from the mind-board when he goes invisible).
<Brian> Currently, Lindsey is on her way through the corridors on her way ... somewhere ... and passing the library.  Where Bjorn happens to be.
<Bjorn> "Mistress Lindsey," Bjorn says in greeting, not yet rising from the chair in which he is slumped.
<Brian> She pauses, and raises an eyebrow.  "Master Bjorn," she replies neutrally.  "And how is Madame Mirallia?"
<Bjorn> "As well as might be expected," Bjorn says cordially.  Briefly glancing around to see that there is no one else presence, he straightens himself up, gesturing at the comfy chair across from him.  "Won't you sit down and chat for a few minutes?"
<Brian> Lindsey looks like she's about to say something, but instead shrugs, taking the seat, and then glancing around to see that the room is otherwise empty.  The young librarian has stepped out on another of his indeterminate errands, so she nods to herself, and asks, "Is this about the Contest, once we finish tomorrow?"
<Bjorn> "To some extent," Bjorn admits.  "Mainly, though, I wanted to apologize for Nathan.  I've heard he decided to try and be intimidating?"
<Brian> Lindsey shrugs indifferently.  "He made his opinions on interpersonal relationships clear enough, yes."
Bjorn grins slightly at that.  "Well put."  Sobering slightly, he adds, "In the end, though, we're not enemies.  We're competitors, trying to solve the same problem different ways."  
<Bjorn> Shrugging, he concludes, "Threats shouldn't really have a part in that."
<Brian> She snorts.  "Bjorn, I think you may be in over your head," she says frankly.
<Brian> "I was trying to blackmail your friend.  If you take that too lightly, or can forgive it so easily, I'd question your trustworthiness.  This isn't a game, and we're playing for keeps.  We'd just as soon not fight dirty if we don't have to ... but we intend to win."
<Bjorn> "And I did the same to you," Bjorn points out.  "And I'll do it again, and if there comes a time when I have to kill you, I will, without a second thought."  He meets her eyes levelly.  "But *threats* don't come into it.  Threats suggest that there is something personal involved, or that you don't respect the other person."
Bjorn leans back slightly in the chair.  "Neither of this is the case.  I respect you and the others in your circle of five -- you're trying to do what's right, even if you're entirely wrong in what you've done.  And, importantly, should the Order of Symmetry fail, you are the best alternative."  He shrugs again, now with a slight smile.  "Not that we will, of course."
<Bjorn> "And, of course," he adds offhandedly, "threats might seem discouraging when you consider joining us."
<Brian> "Hmmm," she muses, frowning.  "You're serious."  Shaking her head, she leans back and sighs.  "We've been fighting the Cabal for far too long...."  She trails off, looking distracted.  Shaking her head again, she says, "Well.  I'd hope if push came to shove we could work together.  Who knows ... next time you may end up with the babysitting job."
<Bjorn> "Stranger things have happened." Bjorn nods.
<Brian> "We'll see about that.  Is there anything else, or....?" she trails off, raising an eyebrow.
<Bjorn> "No, that's pretty much it," Bjorn says thoughtfully.  "I just thought it would be considerate to give your superiors fair warning, really."  He looks at the table between them, and sighs faintly.  "I do miss tea.  Was there anything you wanted?"
<Brian> "Chocolate," she replies, smirking.
<Bjorn> "Ask me next time," Bjorn laughs.  "I might be able to do something about that."
<Brian> She nods at that.  "And we shall see about tea."  Rising, she adds, "And ... good luck."
<Bjorn> "Appreciated," Bjorn says, rising politely as she leaves.
I handle other fanfic authors Nanoha-style.  Grit those teeth!  C&C incoming!
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~exploding tag~

Brian

In the aftermath of the battle, with the sun finally rising again, there's really not much time to do anything but be overwhelmed by the raw emotion that fills the air.  Times have changed for the people of this world, and the revival of the Younger Gods signifies that this game, at least, has come to an end.

   There may be more to deal with, but it's difficult for anyone to concentrate against the feeling of light-headedness that consumes everyone.  

This concludes chapter one, and we now move on to Aftermath.
I handle other fanfic authors Nanoha-style.  Grit those teeth!  C&C incoming!
Prepare to be befriended!

~exploding tag~