Staring at the Sun

Our intrepid heroes experience a festival gone awry.  There may be demons.

(Run by Sesus Sakin for Sesus Ormi, Still Waters, and Peleps Maruko. 3 XP gained to be saved for Ledaal Catala Eavos)

The Nuri house Fadr has called a festival today, summoning commoner and noble alike to view their greatest achievement yet. The papers posted across town and the invitations hand-delivered to every important member of society make mention of the greatest monument to Greyfalls' numerous achievements as a city.

At the site of the supposed monument, tents and stalls and vendors cover the streets and fields. People mill about, curious commoners rubbing shoulders with the palanquins of the finest in Greyfall's society. In the middle of all this hubbub is a gargantuan, fifty yard high... thing. A gigantic disc standing tall on its end, covered by a drape of the finest paper produced in Greyfalls. The paper is a mural to the many battles and trials won and overcome by the city, with the Empress and the Dragons featured prominently at the peak. Indeed, the Empress seems to be at the pinnacle--even above the dragons themselves! Guards wearing the colors of the Fadr stand a rigid watch about the parchment covered disc and the ropes which hold the tarp in place, taut against the disc and the ground.

Sesus Ormi arrives, jade-clad and quiet. He looks at the artwork with a grimace - not at the product, but at the political implications.

Peleps Maruko wanders through the festival, admiring the artwork with a practiced eye as she does so. The drawings elicit a raised eyebrow, but little more reaction, at least initially.

Sesus Ormi strides in, approaching the guards. "What is the meaning of this display?" he says bluntly, gazing up at the paper regretfully. "You must know that this is... objectionable, at best."

Still Waters is not pleased, judging by the sporadic tic at the outer corner of his left eye. No violence is threatened as of yet, but he's pushing his way through the crowd towards the guardsmen.

Peleps Maruko notes Still Waters' approach with a nod, remembering the monk from the...less than successful party at the Cathak Palace, and begins to make her way through the crowd towards the slightly twitchy man.

There are strong mutterings here and there in the crowd, from one devoted immaculate to the next. "The Empress? ABOVE the dragons?" one says. "How dare they depict the dragons like that at all? It is tasteless!" When Ormi approaches the guards, they.... shrug. "One thousand apologies, Lord," the sergeant says with all the courtesy required. "But the Lord Ibnahid intended the highest honors you and yours."

         Regardless of the mutterings, Fadr Ibnahid steps from his palanquin to approach a podium built from glimmering, reflective, mult-colored stained glass. It refracts rainbows into the crowd, blinding a peasant here or there. Ibnahid spares a worried glance towards the dynasts approaching fast, then launches into a speech with much haste.

         "Friends!" he begins, not allowing a second for appropriate dramatic pauses. "We have brought you here to honor the greatest achievements of Greyfalls, of the Nuri, and of our partners and protectors from the Scarlet Empire!" He flips through pages of parchment hastily, muttering to himself, until he finds the last page and the conclusion. "Yes, they have ever been our friends! And so I present to all gathered here the greatest achievement of the Fadr: The Noble Heavensent Purity Prism!" And with that, the guards bow to Ormi and move about, cutting the lines which hold back the tarp.

Sesus Ormi exhales in relief. "Oh thank goodness," he murmurs. "I was afraid that /was/ the gift." He takes a step back and moves to intercept Still Waters, gesturing for the guards to continue.

Still Waters stops short as Ormi gets in his way. "What." His eyes flick from Dynast to busy guards to Ibnahid.

Peleps Maruko bows briefly to Still, and then to Ormi as well as he notices the other bald man. "Greetings, brother Waters, Sesus Ormi."

The lines are cut. The parchment provides some shadow against the sun, but only temporarily... as the last line is cut, the sergeant shouts a command. "Remove the covering!" The soldiers scurry about, grabbing onto cut lines, and haul the parchment away. It drops into a massive heap of ruined mural artwork, revealing the monument behind.

         The fifty yard disc is revealed to be a viridian glass lens that burns and sparkles in the afternoon sun, perfectly convex and beautiful. The peasants give out an impressed gasp in unison, but suddenly... things get a little hotter. The sun shines behind the lens, curiously, the life-giving yellow orb a brilliant, burning green ball when viewed through the emerald lens. No, this is not right at all...

         The lens magnifies the sunlight! A spot of emerald light appears on a hapless smith in the midst of the crowd. "Jei, do you feel warm?" He begins to ask of his compatriot, before the spot of light from the lens intensifies into a horrid beam which sears his flesh. "Dragons!" the smith exclaims as the light sets him aflame. The crowd screams as one and begins to riot. And, in the midst of their rioting, the lens is unseated from its blocks. With a creak and a grinding, it begins to roll...

Sesus Ormi looks at this unraveling travesty with a long, slow sigh, unslinging and stringing his bow in a single quick motion. "This is just ridiculous," he mutters, beginning to fire arrow after arrow ahead of the rolling stone, forming tiny, impotent wedges that nonetheless impart some miniscule resistance as they bend and snap. "Peasants!" he roars. "Slow the stone! Fifty koku for any man whose hand holds it as it comes to rest!"

Ibnahid curses. "Stop it, you lackwits!" he yells to his guards. They begin to give chase, grasping for the side of the lens. They gasp, let go, fingers bloodied by the friction of the rolling edge. Some peasants flee, others rush forward. As the lens rolls, the burning focus traces a line across the mob, setting more and more aflame. One strong man gets in front of the disc and aims to catch it, but the rolling contraption cuts the man in twain. Blood spurts everywhere. A woman faints and catches on fire.

Sesus Ormi has the advantage of completely invulnerable armor. He swings in front of it, gets his boots bloody enough to give him enough give not to be instantly crumpled, and braces himself between it and the earth, trusting jade to be harder than glass. He begins grinding a trench.

Ormi catches the disc, glass shrieking and grinding against jade. The blood which coats the edge of the lens does not lessen his hold at all. He is unmarked, resolute as Pasiap Himself.

Peleps Maruko carefully keeps out of the way of the beam, watching Ormi grunt and strain under the massive disk, and walks delicately over, keeping out of the blood. "Are you adequately supported there?" she asks mildly.

The ground begins to burn under the focus of the lens, green ash and fire sparking where the light of the sun settles.

Sesus Ormi grunts, sweat straining down his bald scalp. "I'm stable for now," he mutters, digging in his feet. "But it's heavy. Is it clear? Can we tip it?

The mortals who were trying to help Ormi run when they hear of the tipping, clearing adequate space. A pavilion or three is in the way, but that is all.

Still Waters grabs a corner of the fallen cover, and carefully yanks part through the hole of a chakram and ties a quick knot. One quick breathing exercise later, he slings the disk on an arc over the top of the lens, with an aim to cover it again as the cloth falls. Inside out, because even little blasphemies are bad news.

The arc of chakram and parchment clears the lens with ease, torn covering falling partially atop. It is not fully covered, but the sun no longer shines through to cast its burning light across the faithful.

Peleps Maruko quickly hops up, grabbing the far end of the tarp and pulling it down to finish completely covering the lens, discretely hiding the runes as best as possible for future investigation.

The crowd has vanished. The guards who did not flee are putting out the flaming bodies of peasants, beating them with blankets and fallen tarps. None of those who were touched by the fire are alive, flesh burnt black and green beyond recognition. Curiously, the entirety of their dead glassy eyes are green and bright like the sun which murdered them. Ibnahid is nowhere to be seen, though a young man who looks much like him stands, swallowing nervously, by the podium.

Sesus Ormi says, "Will... SOMEONE please put a block under this thing?"

Sesus Ormi says, "I would prefer not to tip and shatter it if it is not necessary..."

Still Waters is beside the young man (a relation?) in a few long steps. "Where did Ibnahid run?"

Sesus Ormi struggles out from under it as a few men move to replace him. He observes the runes and corpses curiously.

"The great master..." the young man gulps, "Uncle Ibnahid, he regrets the disaster. He has returned to the... returned to the manor house to compose himself and recover from the, from the shock. Er, he means... his wife is recovering from the shock!" The young man adds a hasty deep bow to the end.

Sesus Ormi looks over the corpses and makes a few incoherent gestures of rage. "What is... For what was all this done? No deed such as this was done by accident."

The young man cowers before Ormi, bowing and grovelling. "He wanted to honor the Dragonblooded Host, my lord!"

Sesus Ormi slaps him across the face. "We are not gods who crave sacrifices of blood!" he bellows furiously!

Still Waters turns from the youth and goes to stand beside the lens, gingerly pulling back a bit of cloth to examine its construction. "If, ludicrously, this is the case, he has shamed all of Greyfalls with his ineptitude. Fetch more swathing," he orders nearby guardsmen. "The temple will recompense wherever you fetch it from." With that, he resumes his inspection.

The runes on the disc are written in Old Realm, dark prayers and promises that are perversions of the sorcerous laws which bind demons to serve the Exalted. The runes are etched across the entire face and side of the disc in loooooong scratches which only resolve into writing when looked at head on. The scratches themselves look at least a week more recent than the casting of the lens.

Ormi's essence enhanced eyes pick out interesting details. The runes appear to have been all carved at the exact same time. When viewed from a certain odd angle (approximately seventeen degrees offcenter) they form another set of runes entirely, venerating Ligier and his burning purity.

With much essence and sorcery, Still Waters brings the blasphemous lens to the Greyfalls Temple for future study.