Patient, quiet, and oh so watchful as always, Vares monitors the exchanges among his sodales and Erat Caecus. The discussion on the ultimate nature of 'reality' prompts him to, at last, comment. "You might benefit from the philosophical studies of the Criamon. They have an unusual grasp of what is 'real' and what is not. The Sufis in the Muslim lands have similar insights. They would describe what you experienced as 'real' because you walked in the places of the spirit if not the body, and the spirit is the ultimate truth."
A deeper matter must be addressed. "You claim ownership of Val-Negra through the line of Abbadon. Val-Negra is--or was--Domus Magus of all House Flambeau. It could be argued that the seniormost line leading from Flambeau himself has a claim to it. Fuego's claim is no less than your own."
OOC: Sorry that I haven't been posting more regularly. In a way, though, it fits Vares' personality, so it should work out.
The tremere tilts his head slightly to the right while listening to both magi speak. His expression remains aloof and serene. He adds in his normally soft tone. "Men and beasts live their lives bound by what they accept as correct and true. That is how they personally define "reality". But what does it mean to be "correct" or "true"? These are merely vague concepts as their "reality" may all be a mirage. Can we consider that their lives and the world around them are shaped by their perception and beliefs?"
Inigo smiles wanly. [color=red]As fascinating as this philosophical discussion is, we should return to the matter at hand. What I want from you, Tytalus, is the facts. How many grogs, and how well armed? What powerful magics have you seen magi there use? Any traps or monsters? And what's this about a time difference?
Hmmm. What else. Ah yes. Sketch me a map of the area. It can't hurt.
He snorts softly. [color=red]As regards this whole discussion, do you know of any way to circumvent the Chamber, Erat Caecus? Or will your answer lead us all on another wild goose chase about the nature of reality?
THAT is why Inigo was made a Commander of the Knights of Seneca and why he is the natural choice for leader.
Erat Caecus snorts
[color=red]There are always 300 grogs at Val-Negra; no more, no less. They are members of what is called the "Aerie Clan", an isolated ethnic group that has lived in the powerful aura of the Black Vale for countless generations, and have become altered by the mystic forces of their environment. They are quiet and unnoticible folk, save for their eerie and unnatural appearance. They all have mettalic grey skin. They are an addled and confused lot, believing that they are reborn again and again as ancestral spirits take over younger bodies. It is a delusion. A scullery maid believed that she was a "reborn" warrior from the glory days. T'was a sad sight.
Magic wise they were all over the place. Val-Negra may have once been the ancestral home of the Flambeau, but they have all but abandoned it. Only Vanacastium remained. He was one of you, a Knight of Seneca, the filius of Julius who was the filius of Delendos.
I don't know the layout and I couldn't make a proper map. I can tell you that most of the covenant is underground, a vast labyrinth of mazes and tunnles, laid out with no rhyme or reason. Yes, there are traps, and I couldn't begin to enumerate them all. Skulls line the walls of the catecombs, and Abbadon had a link to each of them. He can see through their eyes and use them to cast spells through.
As far as the time difference, well, that is a new situation I am unfamiliar with. They were estimating that Val Negra was slipping by about a minute each year, and it may have started accelerating.
As far as avoiding the Chamber of Illusions goes, I don't know if that is even possible. Yes, a wild goose chase on the nature of reality. How do you all know that you are not now at this moment already trapped in the Chamber?
"Normally, due to the urgency of the situation, I would agree with master Inigo and forego the philosophical discussion but master Caecus' warnings should not be dismissed so easily." His arms fall to his sides, his long billowing sleeves concealing his hands. "It is one thing to know where danger lurks so that one can avoid it, but to understand it allows one to overcome it if turns out unavoidable."
He questions the Tytalus in a careful, purposeful voice. "How many of the 300 can be considered to constitute a fighting force? Can they be reasoned with? Have the effects of warping given them other characteristics that would pose challenge to any invaders? Describe their culture."
"Please elaborate on the reasons behind the Flambeaus' diaspora from Val-Negra and why so many Criamon took residence in their absence? Describe the magi in personality and temperament as best you can."
"Are the traps magical in nature, mundane or both? Are there areas free of traps? What of the area that surrounds the portal to Barcelona? What was the typical magnitude of any Aegis of the Hearth within Val-Negra and what was the boundary that it occupied?"
"Master Caecus, you contradict yourself. Earlier you stated you knew it wise to avoid this chamber and now you say you know not if it is possible." His attention seems to focus more on the tytalus now. "Does it matter if we were already trapped within? As long as we exert free will, we have purpose and thus exist. In the end, one's existence is all that matters." He pauses once more. "Perhaps it best to ask, how does Taglyn relate to Val-Negra? More importantly, how did you recognize were trapped within and how did you escape?"
Vares replies to the Tremere, "It is said that animals have spirits, if not 'souls' as we cannot truly define them. Those spirits touch the world as ours do. Together, their spirits leave marks on places, and in realms beyond. Is that not what the Bjornaer seek?"
He is willing to set aside matters of extended philosophical discourse for more practical matters at the moment, however, with the subject of Val-Negra's Grogs, he feels he must bring up a deeply philosophical matter. "Are you saying that they underto metensomatosis? Old spirits migrating into new bodies? What becomes of the spirits within those bodies?"
Looking at the other Magi, he explains, "There is a ritual which can exchange the spirit and mind of one for that of another. Val-Negra is old. It is possible that some Magi in the past discovered a way to set up a cycle of movement of spirits, one into another. It need not transcend the Limit of the Soul as long as the identity is what was passed on. From what has been said, the Magi of Val-Negra are not adverse to this type of research."
He inquires of Erat Caecus, "Tell us of Abbadon. If he alone remains, we must know fully what we face."
Erat Caecus rolls his eyes, not so much at you guys, but in memory of what he considered to be a timid and ineffectual turb. [color=red]I can tell you this, they are long past being Warped. They are a race of magical beings, possessing a Might of the Second Magnitude, or as high as the sixth in the case of their elders. They have powers that only affect themselves; they blend into the environment, standing around invisibly sometimes or walking noiselessly through the halls. They speak a unique dialect of Old Provencal, but quickly adapt to the speech of those around them. Amongst themselves, they mainly communicate in what they call “Silent Speechâ€, Telepathic Communication. (Erat Caecus’s demeanor has turned to on who is gracious in defeat, haven taken confidence in Octavian’s support to the claim as hair of Abbadon). [color=red]As for their prowess, a mere handful are exceptionally skilled to any degree. All able bodied males, and a few females, constitute what is known as the Brown Guard. Auxiliary troops. Craftsmen and laborers able to swing an axe in an emergency. The Red Guard are those few who serve constant military duty, at guard posts and such. They are no more skilled than any commoner, just experienced at the profession of being a soldier. The only truly formidable ones are known as the Black Guard. They are highly trained, yet no more exceptional than mundane human elite soldiers. And for all their skill, they have little if any field experience. So I would say that they are less exceptional than mundane soldiers, if not for their advantage of silent speech. Still, there were less than a score of these Blackguards when I was last there. It seems the heroes of old are not being “reborn†as frequently as they once were. And they have garbage for equipment; recycled old artifacts handed down generation after generation, and a few magic items that they don’t remember how to use. Their culture is bland and boring. They thrive on mediocrity. Reasoning with them is not an issue. They are timid, and used to obeying magi. They obey orders, and don’t take their own initiative. The magi of Val-Negra command them, and they obey with loyalty unto death. With no magi inhabiting Val-Negra, they have no one to give them orders besides ourselves.
Erat caecus looks puzzled, and he gives a careful response as he thinks through his knowledge of history (ironically, he studied more about Val-Negra after he left than he did back when he was still there). [color=red]We didn’t have many Criamon magi. There was one… no, two… come to think of it, there was a line of Criamon magi that stretch back to the early days of the Order. They have never been very numerous though. The Val-Negra of old wasn’t what you might imagine it to be. Oh, it was a powerful covenant with mighty towers and vast resources. But, much as Durenmar, the Domus Magnus of Bonisagus, has always had members of many Houses; Val-Negra has always had a diverse membership since its inception. It was the center of a Tribunal that shared its name. Your Founder (stares at Inigo)[color=red], He formed the first Regional Tribunal outside of the Rhine, and intended for Val-Negra to be a pillar complementary to Durenmar. Durenmar represented Beauty, Val-Negra represented Strength; much as Athens and Sparta complemented one another in the Golden Age of the Helenes.
But I digress. As for the diaspora, there are two causes of it. First, as you all know, the Grand Tribunal split the Val-Negra Tribunal into the Iberian and Provencal. The Schism War already shifted the focus of the House to the region that is Now Provencal, and Castra Solar was made the new Domus. After the Tribunal split, most of the Flambeau that remained migrated to Iberia or Provencal, depending on where their individual interests were. It was some years after that when Andorra was rediscovered, and the last Flambeau apprentice migrated over to there. This would be Fuego. And though I suppose he is my covenant brother and it seems our destinies are intertwined, I have never met the man. Only his minons. (he glances at each of you and smiles).
Erat Caecus shakes his head, as if to indicate you are not understanding something. [color=red] I made it a habit not to run afoul of any traps, and I couldn’t begin to tell you what they were or where they are, if there are any. I wasn’t there long enough to become initiated into their security protocols. Remember, as I said, I spent my entire apprenticeship in an illusionary covenant being tutored by Abbadon’s ghosts. It was seven years after my Gauntlet that I figured out the illusion and managed to leave Taglyn, and I only spent three years after that in Val-Negra proper. Once I realized I could leave there and explore the outside world, I gathered my resources, brushed up on my skills, and left that wretched place. As far as the area that surrounds the portal here at Barcelona, I have no idea. I didn’t know that there even was a portal here until recently. But I do know that they had a very powerful Aegis. Twentieth Magnitude! I kid you not, one-hundred levels of Aegis. They would cast it around the perimeter of the covenant, which includes a fairly large area I suppose, but they are also in a regio mind you, so spatial correspondences are relative.
There was a second Aegis, or some other powerful ritual. This is the boogyman story that has your friend Fuego so anxious about! Ha! I’d love to hear what you followers of superstition think about it. It’s the Iron Door story,, which is nothing unique at all because I have heard of at least three different covenants that have some kind of Forbidden Door or Secret Chamber or Impenetrable Vault, and behind it there is some hidden danger shrouded in riddles. Once a year, sometime during the summer, Vanacastium of Flambeau and Lumistus of Criamon would cast an Aegis upon the Iron Door. The tradition dates back to the days of Apromor, and they call it “Paying Tribute to the Senexâ€. I think it was an Aegis, but whatever it was it took a lot of vis. Just thown away at some imaginary boogyman that they never dared to investigate. Abbadon, he was obsessed by it. He had endless theories of what might lie behind the door and what may happen if it were ever opened. I had to live through three of them while I was in Taglyn. He keeps running hypothetical scenarios. Yet he fears to investigate the real thing by any means or method, the coward! And if my theory is correct, no one remains at Val-Negra, then no one has cast the ritual in some time. I say we throw open wide that door and see what is inside! You, Flambeau, earlier you asked me what my plan might be, well, that would be it! Ha ha! Do you have the courage?
[color=red]I am honor bound, but this is tiring. I am sure it is way past midnight by now. But anyways, back twenty years ago, there were five others besides myself. Vanacastium of Flambeau was a crazy old coot on the verge of Final Twilight, an old warrior countless years past his prime. Abbadon, the paranoid dictator, he has more secrets that one can begin to guess at. He spent almost all of his time in the Chamber of Illusions, monitoring the covenant through his many skulls, and operating his agenda through a score of Duplicants. These Duplicants are the most annoying thing ever. They are duplicates of his body; created, preserved, and animated by magic. He is able to project his mind into any one of them at any time, but they are otherwise mindless undead drones.
Then there was Astella of Jerbiton, and Lumistus of Criamon, who I mentioned before. Likewise, they were decrepit and on the verge of Final Twilight. They each kept to their own affairs and private concerns, hardly ever interacting with each other.
It was then a dead and dying covenant, and I tell you this; it is now a Covenant of Ghosts!
"One final question on the custos. Are there markings, emblems or the like that identify which guard they are part of?"
"Master Caecus, you should not judge based on appearances or your preconceptions."
"In fact, how did you come to discover the information about the portal and of this group's trek to Barcelona?"
"I've perused the ritual. He claims to have obtained a copy from Duresca. I've not had the opportunity to meet with my peers there to verify his claims."
Octavian ignores the man's complaints of the time. "Master Fuego has concluded that the covenant has passed into Final winter by the loss of his ring's power. An obsidian ring I would guess you also once held on your right pinky finger due to every other finger being adorned with rings. I would also stand to guess those rings hold certain significance by their uncommon configurations."
Erat Caecus of Tytalus shakes his head. [color=red]The elietes wear specific uniforms. Other than that, no.
[color=green]Erat Caecus: [color=red]I just call it how I see it.
Erat Caucus laughs [color=red] Hahaha! That's privileged information, and falls well outside the bounds of the terms agreed upon in the Certamen duel
Erat smiles [color=red]Well then, it would seem that you know more about the matter than I do. Care to enlighten the rest of us?
At this, Erat Caecus kooks visible angry. [color=red]Your kennel master, Antonio, he assaulted me and stole the ring by force! If I didn't think that running to the Quaesitors was the last resort of simpering Nancy-boys, I would be taking this matter up with the Normandy Tribunal. Or perhaps with Provencal, the Tribunal you are supposed to be a part of. But no, I have my own plan as to how to recover my property and avenge my humiliation...
"Describe the uniform and how it differs from the regular garb or uniform of the other custos."
"That is why you are the one beholden to us." The tone of his statement comes off more as fact, but nevertheless the verbal jab is apparent.
"I may, but what does master Caecus have that would be of interest to me that he is not already honour bound to give?"
"Any grievance should be reported to the quaesitore of the Tribunal where the alleged crimed took place. I am assigned as a quaesitore to Iberia. Master Perez has left to meet with [ooc: insert where and who he was meeting. The player recalls it supposed to be Greece, but about to leave work for home and can't go searching through the forums for it]."
He stops, as if to consider something before speaking anew. "Or master Caecus can agree to serve as a hoplite in my service and venture into Val-Negra to assure his rights. Should he serve admirably in that capacity, he may be rewarded with a share of the spoils."
OCC, Vares has a point here. They may be grogs, but they are being of the magic realm as well. They seem to have strange mind powers, and Abbadon supposedly favors Mentem & Imaginem (Necromancy and an obsession with the Chamber of Illusions). And, since they have a Might score, these grogs can be harvested for vis! But in any case, Vare is correct to point this out as a subject of interest because there could be a great value hidden amongst these unnoticable and ractically invisible lowly grogs.
Not much to tell you that he hasn't already. Though he was his master, Erat Caecus barely knew Abbadon. In Taglyn, he was tutored by a phantasmal version of Coracol of Tytalus, infamous for being the cruelist and most tormenting parens in the history of Hermetic apprenticeship.
(Read the old "Houses of Hermes" book from WoC, it describes a lot about Erat Caecus in the Apprenticeship section there).
They wear different uniforms. When you see one, I will inform you of it. I suppose they wear black, that seems thematic.
Erat Caecus grows visibly angry. [color=red]Not for long! These questions were part of the stakes, and I am honoring my commitment. When your inquiry is finished, I am out of here.
[color=red]Nothing!
[color=red]Iberia? Hahaha! My friend, then why do you reside at a Covenant of the Provencal Tribunal? I don’t keep repeating that just to taunt you. Taunting is an added bonus.
Erat Caecus replies [color=red]I am not sure how to say this in Latin, so I will use French. “Bite Meâ€.
The amount of information on the sheer Power of Val-Negra is...imposing. Vares works on absorbing it. "Twentieth Magnitude. Possible, for one who is a Master of a specific combination of Arts. But they must have tremendous reserves of Vis for that to be cast. Tremendous reserves." The knowledge and accumulated Vis stores of Val-Negra are a great lure, but the risks...
"You were trapped in Taglyn after you completed your Gauntlet? How could this be allowed to happen? The Magi responsible would be in gross violation of the Hermetic Code to enchant a fellow so. An intruder might be deflected, but to be effective a Mentem spell would have to violate the boundaries of your thoughts, and that is a clear transgression. Why was this tolerated?"
"You assume that your self-described taunts have an adverse effect on my state of mind. I am well aware of the situation Andorra is in. Its proximity to Iberia allows no self-interest in the Tribunal proper that would compromise my objectivity."
A faint smirk appears on the Tremere's face. "Your contrariness is disappointing but not unexpected. The prospect of learning what lies behind the door, assuring your claim to inheritance and hastening its acquisition, further material reward, the fame to be earned among your peers, and the knowledge of the location of your obsidian ring is not sufficient enough I suppose. The offer still stands should you reconsider while the others question you."
He folds his hands once more over his lap. The tips of his fingers exposed from beneath his dark sleeves. He remains silent for now so that others may further question Erat.
[color=red] Before and after. I was already in Taglyn, ner knew where or when I slipped from one world to the next. Perhaps I was born in the realm of phantasams. But anyway, I was gauntleted at Taglyn, then promply moved from there to another covenant, also called Taglyn. You asked me how I figured things out? Every covenant in that realm is just another variation of Taglyn, and the enchantments are such that it simply doesn't occur to you that they all have the same name. Each one has a different population, same covenant though at various stages in history. I suppose. There is a real Taglyn in the Stonehenge Tribunal. All hedge wizards. Nothing at all similar tro the phantasmal versions.
[color=red]No, what I mean is that the Provencal Tribunal is on the verge of making the decision to simply annex you! My agency keeps me well informed.
[color=red]Let me make this clear. I am not worried at all because I am certain that you are all doomed fools. I will go take what I want when the time is right. Second, you almost had a shot at gaining my cooperation. But your Tremere childish blew it. Poor choice of words, "hoplite in your service", I "may be rewarded if I serve admirably". You couldn't let go of your arrogance when it was critical, and as such you are all fated to die in a far away and unknown place. Thou shalt NOT recieve any material or physical aid from me unless it is on MY terms!
Inigo nods, half smiling and watching quietly. He looks surprised at the mention of their being annexed by the Provencal tribunal, making a mental note to keep an eye on it but saying nothing. It’s good that the Tytalus is arrogant. He reveals much more than he intends - or does he? We will have to see.
As the conversation lulls, Inigo looks slightly disapprovingly at Octavian, and then at Erat Caecus. [color=red]Aside from metaphysical tangents and baiting, this has been a productive discussion. Well, I suppose that depends upon your idea of productive... He sighs ruefully, glancing again at the Tremere and the Tytalus.
If his sodales have no further questions, Inigo will dismiss their unwelcome guest. [color=red]That will be all, Erat Caecus. I wish I could say this has been a pleasure. I trust you will honor the remainder of our agreement, and not try to go to Val-Negra or bother the magi of Barcelona for a while.
He bows apologetically at the hips and offers contritely. "I am deeply sorry for the poor choice of words I have spoken. My offer was borne to allow you to accompany the expedition without breaking the provisions of your loss in certamen. The offer of recompense was made with respect that I remain ignorant to the full extent of whatever spoils can be obtained from Val-Negra. I would not make hollow promises to an equal."
He remains bowed as he continues in a more neutral tone. "I understand now that the nature of your apprenticeship may have left you a distate for authority. However, I have no quarrel with you nor does your quarrel with master Perez or Fuego involve me personally. If you change your mind and master Inigo no longer holds you to depart, I am receptive to listening to your terms once the provisions of the certamen are complete."
Once his apology complete, he returns to his aloof composure and reminds Erat to explain how he was able to recognize he was trapped in Taglyn and how he was able to escape. Afterwards, he has no more questions for the time being.
