Scene #5487: The Denandsor Project

Owner	Pose
Bloody Revelations	Everyone should be aware of the rough terms of contract by now. The Deathknight Bloody Revelations has promised giving up her stake on the inconvenient city of Whitewall in return for a service that should benefit everyone except the Deathlord Walker in Darkness. The actual specifics were vague, but things are already looking up when people get out of the warpgate to find themselves neither surrounded by a nightmarescape nor a frozen semi-wasteland. It's somewhere inland, and a little dry, but thankfully temperate, and mostly green. The sun is shining, albeit at dusk, there's a mild breeze, and plenty of wild grass and trees to rustle pleasantly in it. Visible in the middle distance is a road cutting from the northwest, backwater and barely trod upon. It doesn't take much effort to figure out why this particular gate had been chosen. Following that road to the southeast, even by eye, discovers a city entirely unlike Whitewall. A great, sprawling thing, so large as to have its own urban colonies surrounding it, even from far away, anyone can tell the place is incredibly affluent and gorgeously built, in a highly classical and stylish far-eastern design, heavily ornamented with all manner of wonderful lights and statues. It looks like it could handle six figures of population easily, and a huge chunk of them must be superb craftsmen. Well. It would. Without so much as a wisp of smoke or an echo of a voice on the wind, the rustling breeze grows progressively more solemn and sad to listen to. From examination, one can begin to notice that the abundant greenery inside the walls isn't just extremely health gardens, but a veritable forest that has grown up inside the red and gold walls, meshing the incredible landmark of oriental architecture with a colossal, thriving jungle. That makes it even more eerie when there isn't even a peep of a bird from an eminently rich habitat. The Deathknight herself isn't present. That seemed like a foregone conclusion. The point was that people coming here would mean that she could focus on something else in the region. That doesn't mean she has no point of contact, though. At first, it just seems like she'd sent someone to meet them. The figure of a woman in dark blue robes can be made out standing atop a grassy hill, back to the group, when they move down from the warpgate, seemingly examining the same city from afar. When they get close enough to talk, however, the figure turns around, and reveals a flat, blank, and featureless face, where the skin has seemingly bleached white, and bears only some kind of occultic black brand. Where her hair moves, the inside (and only the inside) throbs with the light of pulsing stars. Her shadow exists in two opposite places, despite only one light in the sky. The first attempt to make contact only results in a deluge of unintelligible noise, and the extremely rapid morphing of the brand on her 'face', scrolling through dozens of different and equally incomprehensible symbols fast enough to burn a sentence into the brain, just as impossible to understand. Fortunately, she also appears to be holding a goddamn radio, and it's a more familiar voice coming from the other side. "Ahh ahh. Testing. Testing. Ju'uni tells me you people are here, so if you've got any questions, now would be the time. Oh, and ask them while you walk. The area around here is time-sensitive, so you'll want to be in and out quick."
Starbound Flotilla	The STARBOUND FLOTILLA are here, in their standard Durasteel equipment! Moonfin, the fishman, is in elaborate full-body durasteel armor that looks like a powered cross between a diving suit and a samurai's armor, glowing cyan at the faceplate. Biteblade, the humanoid plant, is in durasteel plating with elaborately carved wood and bone ornaments over glowing powered components that glow an intense green. Pavo the bird-girl wears a pirate-aesthetic set of mesoamerican-style armor, with yellow bands of energized fabric linking the pieces to her central piratey longcoat. Albert the monkey-man is wearing elaborate dystopian commando armor reconstructed with a 'rebel spy' aesthetic: A sleeker faceplate, a slimmer form, and a more chaotic design that integrates thin, resilient plates of durasteel, and lines of bright white. George (just plain human) wears a futuristic combat EVA hardsuit that glows a gentle red at the flat faceplate. Seft, the robotic Flotilla member, is wearing full-on medieval knight armor with a soft energized blue glow below the plates on her body, and especially around the eyes. Each has a heavy industrial-yellow two-pronged plasma-cutter-like tool strapped to their side, a Matter Manipulator. "Nice face there. Got a real Terror of the Novakids aesthetic." "I've a question. What manner of project has your chosen..." "Just say 'target' ye pacifist wimp." "Question holds. What's intel so far? Holdings of targets?" "Worried. I'm especially worried about what sort of curse there may be here..." "No prey! Anywhere! Tell Floran where isss prey!!" The Starbound Flotilla are immediately foisting question on Bloody Revelations and her representative. But they're as swift as they were asked to be. They've arrived on a small set of armed hoverbikes -- upon which others are freely invited to hitch a ride, if they want to -- and intend to head in at the maximum speed of the group and of Rev's proxy. It's time sensitive! And so they intend to waste none at all. Their intention is simple: Push into the city without delay, keeping a swift but not reckless pace in the streets, and fan out over the width of the streets they push through to investigate all areas and aspects of it, from intuiting the principles of civil engineering, to examining architecture, to checking for signs and sites of potential recent activity from enemy Death Knights. Their movements are swift, practiced with military precision, and most of all, keep them tightly together and avoiding any form of splitting up beyond line of sight.
Miari	Once more into a Creation not her own. Miari has decided that it's well-worth gathering information on the Deathlords and other assorted topics of Creation - and perhaps snagging some useful artifacts and other nifty loot - from her world's twin, without arising any suspicion in her home Creation or revealing her hand. Here, she can be more 'reckless' and open... and see the results. She starts walking the very instant that the strange creature they met mentions it. ... Because Miari doesn't seem at all put off by coming across a faceless being that can't talk normally and makes weird symbols appear on its face. She's a Demonologist. This sort of thing comes with the territory. Miari's chosen to wear her usual kimono, and steps lightly over the more lush lands. Lands she seems far more comfortable navigating than the North! "You can add 'what manner of being is Ju'ni here' out of occult curiosity, but the matter at hand is most pressing. What is the plan today?" She asks over the radio. She seems content to stand back a bit and let the Starbound Flotilla members take Vanguard though. Her gaze drifts towards the distant city... trying to identify it.
Staren	Staren's a robot today. It seemed prudent given they might encounter powerful deathknights. The quiet and lack of indiginous wildlife might be somewhat offputting, but it's hardly the only such place Staren's explored. This just makes it feel more like... like searching a ruin on a dead alien world, perhaps, than exploring an overgrown city. Revel's agent has him... taken aback in surprise at the facelessness, but he's quickly able to see it's not an enemy. "Any intel you have on objectives the Walker is yet unaware of that we can grab before he does would be nice. After that, it'd be good to know what we need to take from him, and what we're up against if so."
Tomoe	Tomoe does not like it but the price is worth also killing the Bull weighs on Tomoe, she is starting to be plagued by doubt if it was the right call. She however does not want the people of White Wall to suffer more so here she is. She has put a lot of trust in Gawain, and she does wonder? Maybe that nagging voice in the back of her head is right. That she's not fit for this life and should have stopped pretending. She could have walked away once but now? Cardinal has forcibly infested her world and she has little choice in the matter. The doubts plaguing her gnaw on her but she's got work to do and she attempts to focus. They should be meeting their contact shortly as the party moves she's fallen long in With Miari and also gives the Flotilla a look most of them get a favourable expression cept for Pavo whom she's openly expressed her displeasure of int he past gets little to nothing. Good questions have been asked and she nods to Seft. "Right, just what are we looking at dealing with here, if I might ask? I'd like to be as best prepared, as we can for this."
Gawain	Gawain is already in full armor, as Bloody Revelation's agent is spotted. The knight walks up to talk to 'her', attempting to greet the woman. "Hello! Are you our contac-" And then she has no face. And she's kind of an eldritch horror. Gawain takes a second to process it, hears her attempting to make symbols, and just nods and smiles. "I don't understand you! Please speak up!" Eventually, though, the radio speaks up instead, and Gawain turns to it. "Ah, Bloody Revelations. Her name is Ju'uuni? I see! So, uh...why is the area time-sensitive? And is Ju'uni okay? She has no face." Gawain obliges with the walking while talking, asking another question. "It's incredibly quiet and peaceful here. Are you sure there's some sort of 'Deathlord' here?"
Bloody Revelations	"Ugh. When I said to ask any questions you had, I was hoping you'd have one or two. This already feels like work." crackles the radio. Nothing steps out to molest anyone coming down from the hill, hopping on their bikes and/or other forms of transportation. It's Quiet, with a capital. Not the quiet of an ambush, or the quiet before a storm, but the kind that's been there for an age, and isn't going to go away. "Because I'm an intelligent woman, I had you arrive here first, so you won't stumble directly into one of the Walker's Deathknights and blow something in the early stages, while they have all the cards. With any luck, you won't meet anyone else today, which is good. That city I'm sure you can see. The one with all the pristine architecture and the overgrown garden. That thing dates all the way back to the First Age, but unlike Whitewall, it escaped the Usurpation without being raped and defaced by the Shogunate. In fact, nobody has been able to step foot in it for more than a few hours in centuries." "Now they call it Denandsor, but back in the day, it was called 'The City of Makers', for being some kind of mecca for artisans and craftsmen. They used to gather all the brightest and the most talented and have enormous conventions and competitions, to see who could build the cleverest inventions. Obviously, everyone and their mother wants to get into it, but to this day, it's by far the most intact source of First Age magitechnology in Creation, and virtually untouched by any kind of looter." Worth noting is that, as the sun sets, the figure of the robed woman following the group starts to melt and boil away, as if the /absence/ of light was burning off her skin. Where the flesh dissolves, pale light and glowing shadows slowly emerge, and the figure starts picking up speed and shrugging off the bonds of gravity, allowing the bikes to accelerate, with the tradeoff of being a brain ache to look at. "At some point when the Great Contagion was genociding every living thing in Creation, someone made a colossal screwup and activated some kind of spell or weapon inside the city that spread a powerful curse over it and the surrounding area. The fragmented records are that everyone inside went violently insane and killed each other, themselves, or their own families, until nobody was left. Nowadays, it seems whatever it was is much weaker, but most people can't even get near the walls without being driven away, and the few who get further inside wind up running in terror from something they don't understand." "To emphasize for you, that /includes/ the Abyssal Exalted the Walker in Darkness sent here, being Shards of Basalt and Embers of Agony and Glory. I stress that should give you some idea of what you're up against. I've gotten 'intel' that the Walker knows a lot about this place. I actually suspect he lived or ruled here in life. He knows exactly how to deactivate the curse, but he knows it can only be done from inside, and he's getting tired with his Deathknights failing to do it, and you can be sure that soon he'll either send someone stronger, or go there himself. It has too much in the way of lost artifacts to ignore, and it'd give him a huge edge over his rivals, as well as the local powers. His primary Manse isn't far from here, and surrounded by some significant domains, mostly Lookshy, which has been competing with him for the city."
Bloody Revelations	Soon enough, the human form has boiled off completely, and the figure is only vaguely female; more of a ghostly amalgamation of pulsating constellations, dark lights, and dying stars shed from its nebulaic 'hair'. It cruises along with the bikes at top speed just fine, levitating well off the ground. "Shards of Basalt is a dumb brute, and Embers of Agony and Glory is a pissant compared to me when it comes to Necromancy. What I want you to do today is get as far as you can into the city, and get as much information on the curse as you can, until you can't stand it anymore. Grab a few sample magical items, and come back, and I'm confident that I can shape something to give you total immunity. Nobody else has any idea what is actually /in/ there, but they all know it's valuable, and they all believe it's exactly what they need to win their respective wars." "Lookshy and the Walker will figure out you've been inside sooner rather than later, and set up a serious blockade if you let them. After that, all I need you to do is deactivate that curse, and then kill the Deathknights when their master whips them in. Then I don't care what you do with anything else. Burn it to the ground. Loot it and sell it. Make yourself king mayor or something. Knock yourselves out. I'll be coming for one item in particular, but just the one." And then it becomes abundantly clear that Bloody Revelations was right. Coming within sight of the walls, even at high speed, /everyone/ begins to feel it. A dense, palpable, sickening sense of dread. Ice running through the veins, melting into cold and murky water, and settling in the gut like lead. The air slowly becomes stinging and choking, as if struggling through a thick and toxic miasma, though there is nothing wrong with it. The accelerated heart rate involved cannot be healthy, and it only gets worse as they arrive at a large, circular gate before the road, completely open and unbarred, letting anyone just waltz right through and into the streets. "Oh. Ju'uni of Silent Tales is one of my Hekatonkhire. Her powers are exceptionally useful for info-gathering. What she does to weak minds is ahhh . . . just /art/~ How else do you think I got all this information? Don't worry though, she's a total introvert. She won't get in your way. She hates the sun though. I figured she'd find or make a corpse to wear, though. The face is normal for what her Template was." The situation on the streets is exactly like it had seemed from afar. Even the paving stones are crisp and undisturbed, worn only by traffic from long, long ago. Only the barest signs of age and wear can be seen on the wood and tiles all around, towering several storeys high, and not at all on anything of metal and stone, of which there seems to be quite a lot. What had been tastefully themed as marble and gold seems to be white jade and orichalcum up close, and very large quantities of it, added up between the whole city. Magic thrums from what feels like mere inches under the ground, and many lights and conveniences, such as magically displayed road signs and automatically opening doors, still function perfectly. The forest has wound artfully around it all, taking root in every space that isn't occupied by imperishable construction. It doesn't take much walking before someone steps on the first human skeleton. The brittle crunch redoubles the gut-churning sense of existential dread. They'd all been warned ahead of time exactly what the cause is, but somehow that doesn't make it any better, or any easier to tolerate. Logically knowing it's a magical curse doesn't assuage the part of the brain that frantically insists on cranking up survival instincts to the maximum, screaming and begging the rest of the frontal lobe to do the smart thing and run as far and fast as it can. No wonder nobody can tolerate this. Fifteen minutes is already awful enough.
Miari	"... Ch-charming." Miari manages to MOSTLY keep her composure at this description of Ju'ni, and easily enough so to absorb this information dump about the local situation with Denandsor. This isn't quite how she imagined she'd be visiting the place. And it's far, FAR too soon... But opportunity is opportunity, and Miari'll seize it! She's all but salivating at the thought of yoinking whatever manuscripts and scrolls she can possibly nab... And won't hesitate to get quite serious to accomplish that. Nothing will get in the way of THAT goal! "No advice will be enough to ward off the curse. Just grit your teeth and stay focused. It is all you can do. So I have found, anyways..." And so it is with Miari as the group reaches the borders of the curse. She briefly staggers and stumbles, almost landing on her knees... but she recovers quickly. With a quick breath to study herself, the young woman just starts putting one foot in front of the other. She's a bit safe in the knowledge that SHE CAN ACTUALLY FLY in a pinch, so being inside the city and dealing with its walls isn't quite as scary as it would be... "I'm itching to get my hands on any raw materials or documents in this city! And will pay accordingly. Raid as you will. ... if we could just secure the Denandsor of my home... I could operate the Factory Cathedrals... and..."
Staren	"Gnnh. Should've sent drones..." Staren mutters as they feel the curse fall over them. Knowing the cause and knowing he can easily escape is small comfort, but it's enough to let him tell itself it's an illusion and take one step closer. He's reminded of the feeling of walking through the house late at night, when some part of his mind insists there are monsters in the darkness, except this is even worse. And remembering that reminds him of that horrible nightmare. Ugh. Thanks a lot, John. Good riddance to memetic mental parasites... "It seems being mechanical isn't enough. I'm not really surprised. I still have a mind to interact with, at all. Guess it's just a sticky idea," he seems to be assuming Miari, at least, is interested in this, "it was theorized on my world -- and I'm from a city with a lot of academics -- that if anyone succeeded in creating a Transferred Intelligence, psionic and magical effects wouldn't work on it. The countertheory that a mind's a mind and that's what the supernatural effects care about only arose a few years before we got to actually test it." Or maybe he's just rambling to try and distract his mind from the fear. When someone steps on a skeleton and he turns and looks at it, he freezes for a few seconds, before stepping away, looking both afraid and embarassed. He ups the tint on his visor. "Okay..." He pushes the shakenness out of his voice, "We need to be methodical. Miari, can you identify buildings most likely to contain something useful?"
Tomoe	Well the good that nothing jumps them right away. The Salamander seems to be on edge more so than before then again Creation just has generally not been good things for her. So she's expecting about anything to be dangerous really. "So some old magical weapon of mass destruction went off....during a super plague? Greeze." She listens as the details continue on about what happened. "Got it get in, get out do not stay too long." She has no doubt, it would not effect them in time. She seems ready to be quick about things here. more warning are heeded about what's waiting for them in there too. If things go south however. The fact their employer wants once item scares the hell out of Tomoe but she remains quiet she's got to think about White Wall but then again are they being played harder there? She's mostly silent as she pushes ahead. She looks to Miari and nods for a moment. She nods and moves head. "Right I'll turn over anything like that I find to you sounds good enough Miari but ... the curse... eh? Maybe we can if we figure out what's up here, right?" She looks to Staren for a moment and then tilts her head a bit. "I think if you got a mind it can effect you Staren lets operate on that least one of us goes crazy." She's ready to move out and will take point as needed.
Starbound Flotilla	"This place fucking sucks. I need a smoke already." "Hhhh. I have never felt so great a sense of dread from such beauty before." "Hhhh. Whole city makesss feeling like prey even if hunter." "Aye. 'Tis hell on the body even knowing it be a curse. Why don't we have the tin-can handle this?" "Stressed. Pavo, my circuitry is responding badly. It would damage me just as much." "Analyze. Determine as many physiological reactions as possible. Scout the land as best you can." The Flotilla -- rather, specifically Pavo -- hears the magic words of payment. They also ignore the magical word of "methodical". So they're rather fast on their feet, or at least fast on their hoverbikes, to make their way through the city and do their best to find any centers of administration, recordkeeping, or other such sites, where they can quickly and effectively raid by basically kicking down doors and jamming entire bookcases into their inventories. It's a style that's rather unlikely to net them access to any key important data, but it sure is going to get them a rather high volume of data that they can page through and analyze outside of the city... Assuming that the curse doesn't stick to anything here. They're REALLY hoping it doesn't stick. Moonfin's the one leading the way there; his keen aesthetic sense is one that should lead them directly to the most beautifully-crafted buildings, which are logically the ones that are most administrative. While they do that, though, Seft stops with George for a moment. They hate standing still around here, but it's better than the awful noise of skeletons disturbed by the hoverbike jets. They're rapidly building -- it seems over the course of just a few minutes -- some kind of medical scanner pod. What's the idea here...? It looks like they're trying to identify, not the neurological /cause/ of the phenomenon, but a full-body scan of its effects. They can't resist this, but at the very least, they can make use of their SURVIVAL GEAR CRAFTING in tandem with their BIOCHEMISTRY TECH and their SCANNING abilities to try to come up with a suite of medical treatments that might alleviate some of the damage. It might not give them more time, but it could hopefully give them an edge in the competition. Miari, of course, as the fully expert medical person, is going to be given all of this data as well; the hope is that she might design some potent mixture for the Flotilla to produce, compact, and distribute for future visits.
Gawain	"Answering questions is always helpful! Thank you very much, Bloody Revelations." Gawain dislikes the Abyssal very much. He is also polite to her anyways, especially when she's providing intel. "I assume you won't tell us what the item you want is...well, as long as you free Whitewall." Gawain doesn't react too much to Ju'uni's human form disintegrating aside from a few seconds of blinking and then another nod to Revel's words. As the strange feeling of dread overcomes him, Gawain frowns and bites his lip, but suddenly starts humming 'I am the Walrus', as if trying to distract himself from it. The knight begins glancing through the windows of the nearby buildings, as he begins pacing through the streets. He's resisting the despair pretty well, even if he visibly looks uncomfortable and keeps looking back at the entrance. "So, what do artifacts look like? I'll check inside the buildings." And so, the knight does so, actually walking through buildings and trying to find anything that looks shiny.
Bloody Revelations	Raw materials aren't hard to find. They adorn everything from the pillars to the corners of the roofs, glistening even in the shadows right after sunset. They exist only in minute quantities, however, decorated in extremely thin layers. If Miari had a couple of weeks to scrape it all up, she'd probably have a small mountain, but right now, she doesn't. Nobody does. Documents are a different story. True to Miari's earlier guess, the Shogunate appears to have done a damn good job of rounding up all administrative faculties, probably in one of the more gargantuan buildings closer to the center of the city. There are a few big, squat, imposing candidates to choose from, partial to the Shogunate's more military sensibilities. Other offices are far more ornate, and mostly seem to have been repurposed for post and entries/exits and registered equipment, but it's not like it's remotely difficult to smash and grab shelves of files and paper capsules, as well as what appear to be information-recording crystals, like excessively fantasy-flavoured memory chips, because it's all just sitting out there. There are a lot of names and, at the very least, extensive and meticulously kept records of where who was staying on what date, and what things they had to check in (namely, weapons and automata for the most part) and where it's being kept. That could be handy, if they screen for a precisely pre-Contagion date. In the scramble to grab things, a number of maps can be obtained as well, though they're tourist-oriented, mostly showing major attractions and landmarks instead of much detail. They handily break the inner city down, however, labeling theatres, competition grounds, barracks, Manse grounds, geomantic areas, and 'Factory Cathedrals', the spires of which are plainly visible over even the overgrown sprawl when one checks the map. No doubt something important went on there. It even goes as far as pointing out a number of famous tombs, with big and illustrious names that no longer mean anything. Those would be prime material, given how much Exalted seem to like burying their crap with them. Checking the physiological signs does show that it's not all in everyone's head. The mind is the mind, but a preliminary scan will immediately show an extremely elevated heart rate and blood pressure, incredibly overworked neurons, gradual oxygen depletion, and involuntary muscle tremors. Staying here long enough could theoretically actually deteriorate someone's nervous and cardiac systems. Treating it with drugs and medicines would certainly help, albeit, only the symptoms rather than the cause. It might no longer cost them their health, but it would still severely tax their mind. Ju'uni floats along without much of a care. It should probably not shock anyone that the Hekatonkhire doesn't seem to care about the terror aura at all. The thing itself /is/ terror, in some metaphysical representation of a dead god's fevered nightmares. Since it's not exerting any of its power, it pretty much blends into the background radiation. Why Bloody Revelations hadn't sent it to loot, though, becomes pretty obvious. It appears to be completely intangible, just floating through walls like it doesn't notice them.
Bloody Revelations	If someone thought there might be a cap on how afraid someone could feel, they would be wrong. Even just the time it's taking to quickly ransack the place is unbearable. The primitive, disassociated instinct inside them all, in objection to not being taken seriously by the higher mind, seems intent to just rip it apart and burn it all down, struggling to obliterate all coherent thought and reduce someone to an animal that only knows how to flee. It's physically exhausting as well as mentally, like one can practically feel their neurons sizzling and dying. They may actually be. Considering she doesn't have to sit here and deal with it, Bloody Revelations is perfectly composed over the radio. "Artifacts are always easy to find. The Solars and Lunars all think that anything worth anything has to be built out of a magical material, pretty much always orichalcum, moonsilver, and or jade. You can honestly grab anything that incorporates those things and have an even chance of it being a minor artifact. It's so predictable." Checking inside the buildings of the rest of the outer portion of the city largely seems to be residential, leisure, marketing, and family-owned workshops. Unfortunately, a vast majority of their contents have been stripped bare, almost definitely when they were commandeered as emergency supplies after the occupants died of plague. There are the odd things nobody needed, though. Incredibly expensive clothes and jewelery are a small part, as well as elaborate toys of clockwork, crystal and magic for children, objects of artistic value, such as expansive paintings and glasswork, and other such things that serve no utilitarian purpose. It doesn't get to go on forever, though. After trying the door of one particularly large building, a fist-sized ruby over the door flashes to life, briefly blaring its red glow over the street, but then sputtering out as it tries to play a sound and then dies. A few moments later, they can hear the telltale juddering and clanking of something highly mechanical moving, and then a trio of what can only be called robots rounds the corner. Relatively sleek, organic, and smoothly pieced together, they'd be difficult to mistake for suits of heavy armour, even before one takes a look at the patches of glowing circuitry visible under some deteriorated sections, and sees the luminous lenses in their helmet slots. One of them sputters, gurgles and sparks, but another, covered head to toe in vines, manages to speak in a surprisingly even baritone. "Halt, citizens. This area is under martial law, and restricted to military and medical personnel only. Return to your designated quarters, or face reduced rations or expulsion. I repeat, martial law is in effect during this state of emergency. This area is off limits." Something feels like these things weren't mall cops back in the day. Smashing them up would be an easy option to resort to under normal circumstances, but it's so hard to /think/ straight already, never mind fight. It's plausible that a few people could take them, given their advanced deterioration, but on the other hand, all they're doing is holding out their hands in warning, and barring the way. Oblivious to the situation, Bloody Revelations chimes in. "Oh, I might as well. If you happen to see one, it'd save me the walk. It'll be a ball of soulsteel covered in glass or crystal, and it'll have a set of complicated orichalcum rings around it. About the size of a head. If you can find one, it'll be heavily locked down, no doubt, or else someone was an idiot and panicked. No, it wouldn't be the source of the curse, but don't fiddle with the rings if you see one."
Miari	The tromp into Denandsor is one that requires most of Miari's focus. One foot in front of the other. Very little brainpower can be shunted towards thinking too hard at anything... apart from viewing the buildings over the walls, and mentally drooling about what's in there! Then, when they finally get inside... she is quick to point at buldings of interest, laying out articulated descriptions of their uses... But this breakdown of points of interest comes to a close as.... here comes an Automaton. Blink blink. She nearly jumps out of her skin in a confused jumble of misfiring thoughts... but quickly clenches her gut and... gets an idea. "How dare you, Automaton. Have your sensors come unscrewed? You do not have the authority to order a Lawgiver. Return to your patrols and do not pester us again." She backs this up with a sudden surge of Solar anima, glowing bright as a torch with the colors of the sunset - blues, purples, oranges and reds, around a core of gold-crimson. The Twilight Caste mark shows on her forehead... She's aware that the Shogunate might have been able to change some of their directives, and this has a chance of starting an alarm - or doing nothing at all - but perhaps Solar loyalty will pervade. She's completely ready to Mind-Hand this thing into the next block if this doesn't work though...
Staren	Staren turns towards the sound, beam cannons ready, but is still there enough to not interpret the robots as a threat. He lowers his arm after it speaks, and is just about ready to grab them and go when Miari speaks. He supposes they can wait a few more seconds to see if she can just order them to follow. He stands by, shifting from one foot to another anstsily, looking over the robots, trying to guess how heavy they are and what weapons they might have.
Starbound Flotilla	Oh son of a bitch. Security robots! The Flotilla members busy slamming down doors notice the distinct sign of machines that will soon become hostile if they continue. "Fuck. Shit. Shit, fucking robots." He says, trying to fumble for a pistol during his panic. He's starting to realize that the effects of this region on his body, especially at his old age, are going to make fighting these guys a little less than it normally is viable. The others find some similar results, as their stressed, anxious state pushes them towards a sudden but inevitable... "Retreat. Allow the others to take this." "Nnnh. Floran doesssn't want to run away!" "Terrified. This effect is interfering with our primary advantage, our coordination." "Lady Seft is correct. We must do what we can in other ways. Try to make use of the maps." "A-aye, matey, we'll follow them to something a little softer." The Flotilla get to work. By which I mean, George calls out, "Heading back to quarters! Okay!" And tries to book it out of here. His mind is racing. Fear may be creeping into it, but George knows how to be George and how to do George Things. They need two things: Artifacts, and some sort of way to prevent the local security systems from rebelling. So what's the optimal way to do that, which DOESN'T involve running headlong into a bunch of /literal tombs/ while his brain is jacked up on nightmares? Well, you do what any self-respecting space traitor does: You go and raid a new access keycard. Or in this case, whatever essence-powered artifact equivalent there may be. Seft's the only one with an aversion to corpses, and she can deactivate that part of her brain to suffer a debuff, so surging back through the streets on their hoverbikes, they follow the corpses to understand the flow of movement and try to find where corpses may have piled in a directed way, the way some might move when they're being guided by someone with authority, the way they might congregate around someone with access. They look, in a coincidental way, for signs in the bones that will lead them to their objective.
Tomoe	It doesn't take log for Tomoe to see that Miari was right about how the Shogunate set up things. It's not to hard to find it she'll take in the view for half a second before she'll end up pressing onward She'll start looking she also keeps alert for the various guard units which might still be functioning. She will also move to start grabbing what looks to be records and shoving them into her inventory for miari to sort through at a later point in time. She'll keep an eye out for maps and other items she knows Miari wants everything they can. She knows the clock is ticking and the finding of maps hopefully will be useful to find. She pauses though she feels her heart hammering more is it stress or the whole nature of the curse. She knows they should not stay for too long. Fear is growing it's too much she's always felt a pang of fear towards Creation and it just gets worse it gets worse something in her lizard brain is going RUN! It's screaming to her to run. Tomoe may grab any interesting things that might be melee weapons as she does her information searching but well? That's a secondary thing. Robots show up and she pauses for a moment looking at them. "Oh hell." She's going to keep near Miari though as she attempts to bluff the robots into giving up but she's ready to fight and cover Miari if things come down to it.
Gawain	No luck on finding anything inside the houses, though Gawain does grab one of the clockwork toys, just in case. When they approach the large building, however, Gawain stops when the automatons appear, nodding his head at them and then suddenly getting vertigo from withholding the feelings and trying to force himself to not vomit. Instead, he waves his sword up, frowning at the others when they look like they'll attack the automatons. "Sir Gawain, Knight of the Sun! We seek access to assist with this contagion. Please grant us such, robotic friends." Trying his hardest to smile and remain himself. He can't run, he can't run, he wants to run, he needs to run, but a knight does not run. A knight holds faithfully even against the most fearsome things.
Bloody Revelations	Staren lowering his weapons (and the Flotilla not drawing them) seems to be wise, if these units are designed (or at least repurposed) for enforcing martial law. They remain passive, merely blocking the way as an automatic cordon, in whatever this apparently important building is, and the district behind it. It's an issue, to be sure. The automata that still function here don't feel any of the screaming, brain-fraying compulsion to leave as quickly as possible at all. Their human masters and directors did, long ago. They'll keep this up forever. Several things happen when Miari makes her play. The automata all speak up over each at the same time in a garbled, identically-toned mess. The two less comprehensible ones scream something to the effect of "ANATHEMA DETECTED WITHIN CITY BOUNDS! ALL CITIZENS EVACUATE THE PREMISES! CONTACTING CENTRAL COMMAND!", but at the exact same time, the more intact one speaks to the effect of "Deliberative identity verified. State your business and length of visit." It might be that the other two are falling apart because of clumsy Terrestrial or mortal technicians reprogramming them by hand. This, of course, results in the automatons turning on one another. The intact one covered in vines extends a three foot long blade from its wrist, and turns on the sputtering one behind it, which does similarly. Suffering much less for age, its movements are more fluid and agile, and it manages to back off the other automaton's arm before it can use it. It attempts to move to a close quarters brawl, but the former skewers it through the torso with its moonsilver blade. The third turns on the first, and its hand splits open into a dozen pieces, exposing a precision-crafted lens that rapidly warms with red light. Before it does anything though, the Hekatonkhire sidles in from just out of peripheral vision, much like one of those awful shadows on the street at night that always /just/ escape one's notice, and then dives into the robot's body. The thing suddenly begins /howling/. Outright /screaming/ out in its deep, artificial voice, clutching its head and convulsing as if in caught in terrified seizure. It turns to bash its face against the nearby wall, scrabbling at its own plating, before collapsing against the stairs, imitating synthetic sobbing, and then points its Essence cannon on itself, instantly blowing off its own head with a blinding explosion of incinerating energy that shakes the street. It falls over as a burning husk, where Ju'uni meanders back out of its smoking corpse, and absently floats off again, just leaving the single compliant unit standing, awaiting instructions. Without missing a beat, it replies to Gawain: "Understood. Quarantine will be granted for our two distinguished masters. Allow us to perform any transportation of supplies necessary." 'Us?' George chose a good time to bugger off though. He can feel the blast from way down the road, and it feels instantly and incredibly cathartic to move /away/ from the city center, even if he isn't intending to leave just yet. A lot of frantic searching around the quarantine line will eventually lead him to what looks like it could have been either a clinic or a dole line, but either way, the traffic has converged into a pile of dead where they lay, bones tangled together in an orgy of insanity-induced violence, where it seems even the plague-stricken were strangled in their beds. One skeleton stands out, due to wearing the last little pieces of its rotted clothes; threads of magical materials woven into what must have been a very fancy outfit, which hadn't perished with age. There's no obvious sign of office about him, save a white jade ring around his finger with an official-looking signet. It would have just been made of clay or gold if it was for stamping seals. Miari and Gawain may have some of the automata cooperating, but George's finely tuned keycard senses instantly tell him that a ring like that does more than just talk to robots. It better. Tolerating any more of the hellish magic seeping
Bloody Revelations	Staren lowering his weapons (and the Flotilla not drawing them) seems to be wise, if these units are designed (or at least repurposed) for enforcing martial law. They remain passive, merely blocking the way as an automatic cordon, in whatever this apparently important building is, and the district behind it. It's an issue, to be sure. The automata that still function here don't feel any of the screaming, brain-fraying compulsion to leave as quickly as possible at all. Their human masters and directors did, long ago. They'll keep this up forever. Several things happen when Miari makes her play. The automata all speak up over each at the same time in a garbled, identically-toned mess. The two less comprehensible ones scream something to the effect of "ANATHEMA DETECTED WITHIN CITY BOUNDS! ALL CITIZENS EVACUATE THE PREMISES! CONTACTING CENTRAL COMMAND!", but at the exact same time, the more intact one speaks to the effect of "Deliberative identity verified. State your business and length of visit." It might be that the other two are falling apart because of clumsy Terrestrial or mortal technicians reprogramming them by hand. This, of course, results in the automatons turning on one another. The intact one covered in vines extends a three foot long blade from its wrist, and turns on the sputtering one behind it, which does similarly. Suffering much less for age, its movements are more fluid and agile, and it manages to hack off the other automaton's arm before it can use it. It attempts to move to a close quarters brawl, but the former skewers it through the torso with its moonsilver blade. The third turns on the first, and its hand splits open into a dozen pieces, exposing a precision-crafted lens that rapidly warms with red light. Before it does anything though, the Hekatonkhire sidles in from just out of peripheral vision, much like one of those awful shadows on the street at night that always /just/ escape one's notice, and then dives into the robot's body. The thing suddenly begins /howling/. Outright /screaming/ out in its deep, artificial voice, clutching its head and convulsing as if in caught in terrified seizure. It turns to bash its face against the nearby wall, scrabbling at its own plating, before collapsing against the stairs, imitating synthetic sobbing, and then points its Essence cannon on itself, instantly blowing off its own head with a blinding explosion of incinerating energy that shakes the street. It falls over as a burning husk, where Ju'uni meanders back out of its smoking corpse, and absently floats off again, just leaving the single compliant unit standing, awaiting instructions. Without missing a beat, it replies to Gawain: "Understood. Quarantine will be granted for our two distinguished masters. Allow us to perform any transportation of supplies necessary." 'Us?' George chose a good time to bugger off though. He can feel the blast from way down the road, and it feels instantly and incredibly cathartic to move /away/ from the city center, even if he isn't intending to leave just yet. A lot of frantic searching around the quarantine line will eventually lead him to what looks like it could have been either a clinic or a dole line, but either way, the traffic has converged into a pile of dead where they lay, bones tangled together in an orgy of insanity-induced violence, where it seems even the plague-stricken were strangled in their beds. One skeleton stands out, due to wearing the last little pieces of its rotted clothes; threads of magical materials woven into what must have been a very fancy outfit, which hadn't perished with age. There's no obvious sign of office about him, save a white jade ring around his finger with an official-looking signet. It would have just been made of clay or gold if it was for stamping seals. Miari and Gawain may have some of the automata cooperating, but George's finely tuned keycard senses instantly tell him that a ring like that does more than just talk to robots.
Staren	Woah, fighting? What if they need them intact?! Staren tries to pull the ones complaining about 'anathema' off of the more intact one. But... in seconds, it's over. He stuffs the severed arm in his bag and picks up the two 'corpses' and starts running. No, he can do better than running -- thrusters come on, he'll /fly/ out of the city by the most direct route he can! When sanity returns, he... continues to bring them back towards the gate, radioing their client to ask where to bring the artifacts.
Miari	The sudden EXPLOSION of conflicting activity amongst the different automata sends a surge of DREAD down Miari's spine. She briefly considers going Immaterial and fleeing like HELL from this place to regroup.. but then... Then the Automatons fight each other, of all things, and Ju'uni solves the problem neatly. This leaves her standing right as she was, having not budged an inch... but shivered a great deal with indecision and uncertainty. Her confident, quiet smile is a bit shaken and forced right now... "I carry new emergency directives for local command and the defense forces. As you can see, some were subverted. You will escort me to the central control for them." In for a dinar... you may as well go for the whole talent, really. Miari adopts as much of the authority and dignity of her ancient persona as she can summon forth!
Tomoe	Tomoe is kinda scary at this point and she looks as several of the bots flip out, the last one however doesn't. She seems ready for a fight yet the bots start fighting each other. That was not expected on her end but she's still ready to fight. she watches it play out, she doesn't want to to be here much longer then the bots seem to stand down? She is all right with that and if it could help them get things out? All the better, no weapons found but she found a good deal the robot's fallen sword is of intest to Tomoe even if it just becomes a display peice it does get her attention and she'll pick it up but she'll go to Miari and fully agrees with Staren, and George. "Miari we got to go we can't do anything if we're dead or insane!"
Gawain	As the automatons turn on themselves, Gawain has his sword out, but isn't attack. He's not sure he can, or where they are, and is kind of dizzy. But when the fight ends in their favor, and Miari approaches the compliant automaton...he walks up to her, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. "Lady Miari, we...we need to go back for now. We can take the machine with us, for the time being, so that it can help further protect the...the city when we return." The fear is becoming ever more present in his brain, as he grips her shoulder slightly more firmly. "We will likely die if we don't leave soon. We've succeeded...have hope that in the future, we'll free this city. Please." It sounds like pleading from Gawain, despite him trying to keep up his spirits, and looking to the automaton. "Belay that. Come with us, machine friend."
Starbound Flotilla	"The dead should be given their respect." "And the living should get everything they need to stay that way." "Touche." "Hopeful. This should allow us to make use of command infrastructure." "Metal friend, isss creepy when you turn off disgussst. Boness not that bad." "Leave her be. We're all under stress. We need to leave and prepare furhter." "Aye. We've a load of materials to work with and get paid for." George dismounts long enough to rummage among all the corpse's belongings and yank the ring off, pocketing it with speed and urgency. "Got it. Hit the road." He says, hopping right back on that bike, revving it hard, and taking off. The others form up right behind him and surge out of the city, ready to get the hell away from the center of that nightmare zone. George is already lighting up a cigarette -- one of his classics, loaded with medicinal payload -- to offset the stress of going in full fight or flight mode for even this amount of time. Yeesh... What a stressful situation. One, oddly... Is missing. She's swung back, willing to tank the effects of the field dangerously overclocking her hardware to drop by and give the others a ride. Two friends might be able to fit aboard her extra-size hoverbike and get a much speedier exit, some people are sounding rather acutely distressed and Seft is vulnerable to rather stupid sorts of altruism. She could even convey the machine friend with a vehicle like this, and Starbound IS the group best equipped to help repair it if necessary.
Bloody Revelations	As with George, all the others find the experience of leaving Denandsor as intensely, primitively relieving as could be imagined; /beyond/ what could be imagined. If it weren't for the hellish endurance it took to get this far in the first place, it could almost become addictive. While Miari sticks it out long enough to make a valiant effort at getting taken to the center, the automaton rebuffs her with a: "Apologies. Chain of command has passed from Kal Bax to-" where it then sputters with a processing error, then recovers halfway through a new sentence. "-authority granted by journeyman or higher status for unrestricted access to tactical Manse assets." Despite not believing Miari's (fake) authority outstrips that of its long, long dead Solar master, however, it remains pretty much utterly complacent, and easy to take away from the city under grounds of "transporting supplies.". Thankfully, whatever aura Bloody Revelations expects permeates the loot they transport out, it doesn't plague them after leaving. The indescribable mental pressure fades as they move directly away from the city's center, and begins to peter out on the road, though even removing themselves from the boundary it had started at doesn't make it go away all at once. A vague sense of existential panic will continue to linger for several hours, though without further adverse effects except loss of sleep. The total haul: CITY MAP, VISITOR'S REGISTRATIONS, ARTIFACT BAGGAGE CHECK LIST, NON-UTILITARIAN MINOR ARTIFACTS, INTACT SECURITY AUTOMATON, OFFICIAL SIGNET, PHYSIOLOGICAL DATA.