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Realms: Bough Logs

Fifth Movement, Thirteenth Verse

As they depart from the Grand Old Dame's lair, the sound of gryphons bugling rings through the air. A regal of the creatures is winging its way towards the fields Uluru stands in, carrying many objects in their talons. More bugling cries sound; clearly these gryphons had some sort of successful hunt.

Jareth looks upward, "You'll be that big one day, little... guy? Hrm... are you a guy?"

The little russet gryphkitten doesn't seem capable or willing to enlighten Jareth, but it's answering chirrups to the larger gryphons' bugles do try to match the sound in enthusiasm if not volume.

Jareth can't help laughing at the little gryphon's enthusiasm, "Shall we go see what they've brought home, hm?"

Norris stares up at the flight of mighty creatures, amazed, absently trying to count them all. "I wonder why the gryphon mother decided to set up shop here specifically.” He smiles at Ferro watching the gryphons with excitement.

The regal of gryphons draw closer into view. The leader seems to be a big blue one with the coloration of a bluejay but the beak of a raptor, and rather powerful muscles underneath its pelt. And what the regal of twelve griffons is carrying is not haunches of meat from a hunt... but what looks like white-enameled (or rather once-enameled) bronze armor, bolts of silver-stained white cloth with red markings, broken lances, and other, similar shiny detrius.

Jareth is watching and says, "From what I remember, her mother made it here after being wounded." He whistles through his teeth as he sees what the regal of gryphons have in their claws, "Is that... are those angelic artifacts?"

Norris's gaze sharpens. "What..." he blinks at what the gryphons carry, and his footspeed increases. "I'm not...sure? I need a closer look." he replies with excited interest.

Jareth picks up speed to keep up with Norris, making sure the gryphkit doesn't get dislodged. He's not exactly running, but it's more than a walk.

Norris is not running, but he has long legs, and his attention is aroused, so he's going along at quite a clip towards where the flight is landing. And he's not as worried about Ferro getting dislodged what with impressive claws. Thank goodness he wears armor, and padding..

The regal lands. As the mortals get closer they can indeed see that what the gryphons carry are angelic in origin, and apparently having been taken with great violence. The silvery blood of angels stains almost everything that the gryphons set down with airs of great satisfaction. One of the more playful ones takes up a helmet in it's beak, gives a muffled chirp-caw that catches the others attention, then playfully lobs it at another. The game of catch catches on with several of the regal quite quickly. The lead gryphon remains a bit aloof, but clearly pleased as it noses and picks it's way inquisitively throughout the trophies taken.

Mikal emerges from a fissure in the great rock itself, looking around curiously. Her expression sharpens with interest, and she heads over as well. She flashes a grin at her Packmates, "Halloa! Looks like they had good hunting! Do you know if anyone here can talk their language? I'd like to know if any of the angels made it back or not."

Norris does slow down, and watch this interaction with bemused interest. And then he looks seriously at Ferro. He holds up Athena's helmet, so the kit can see it. "This is not a toy." he explains seriously. When Ferro just blinks at him, he sighs. "Well, okay, I was...sorta playing with it earlier, yes. But I don't have a powerful beak that could scratch it up. This is important to me. So...no playing catch with it." he pauses. "I mean...once you're big enough to do so. Okay?"

Norris glances at Mikal. "No, I...I still don't have much luck talking to animals. I mean, the ones that don't already obviously talk. That's you're bailiwick." he drawls ruefully.

Mikal opens her mouth to say something, then pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. After a moment she murmurs, "Well, I... huh! Well, can't hurt to try, I guess?" She heads over to the lead gryphon, her little Lazuli on her shoulder. As she approaches she waves and calls politely, "Hello! May we talk?"

The lead gryphon reacts immediately to Mikal's approach, leaping half a step back and dropping low to the ground for a moment as he studies the mortal. After a moment he looks more curious than threatened, though still cautious even as his large eyes flick to Lazuli.

Norris, himself, decides to take an approach that works better for him. Since his expertise is arms and armor, he goes over to the pile that the gryphons have gathered, greeting the large beasts carefully. "I'm just gonna...not going to take anything, just want to have a look, hey?"

Mikal reflexively starts back herself as well -- then looks a bit sheepish as she realizes there's nothing to fear. She tilts her head in curiosity at the gryphon as well, waiting for him to decide she's all right before she comes any closer. That also gives her an opportunity to more closely examine the big and impressively beautiful creature.

Perhaps a touch unexpectedly, the helmet bonks lightly off of Norris's head. The gryphons who had been playing -- and apparently still are playing -- look absolutely unrepentant and are apparently giggling.

Jareth stays a little back behind Mikal. He looks from his new friend to the full-grown gryphons and murmurs, "I know you'll get that big some day, but it's still impress..." He winces and snerks as the gryphons try to include Norris in their game.

The big blue gryphon slowly straightens a bit, stepping closer to her a few steps at a time, cocking his head to the side as he does so. His chirps are of a lower volume now, pitched so as not to cry across the sky or to harm Mikal's hearing. Shortly he is very close to Mikal, and she can smell and feel his breath as he breathes. Lazuli for their part is holding themselves very still; gryphons can be somewhat territorial but Big Blue here does not appear to consider Lazuli a threat.

Norris blinks at the unexpected missile, and then blinks more at snickering gryphons. "I'm not sure why, but that seems to be far more reassuring than any other possible reply." he rumbles, smiling ruefully. He picks up the helmet, and tosses it to one of them, before going over and running his hands over the various damaged gear, to see what story they tell.

Mikal smiles up at the gryphon; curiously the closer he gets the more calm she feels. He reminds her of Iron Antlers, a bit. She raises a hand to rest it, if he allows, on the broad curve of the raptor's beak. She speaks both with her voice and mentally, like she does for Iron Antlers and Raphael, "Hello. My name is Rabbit, and I'm calling my little friend here Lazuli until they're old enough to decide for themselves what their name is. What's your name, please?"

A yellow-and-white gryphon bounces up into the air to catch the helmet and with a toss of their head lobs it to another gryphon.

To Norris, the pile of artefacts is many and varied. Most appear to be armor or surcoats, whatever the angel had been wearing at the time before it was ripped from them, to judge by the amount of silver bloodstains. Norris thinks he can count gear from at least fifteen different angels here, and them only officers, to judge by the relative quality and the decoration on the surcoats and armor. There are only three or four lances -- perhaps five, it's hard to tell as they've been broken, their wooden shafts splintered. A breastplate in particular catches his attention: A finely-wrought piece, made from a base of white-enameled bronze, with gold and silver working upon it, it depicts the Agnus Dei, the lamb of god, a style that he recognizes from post-Constantine Byzantium. (How did he know -- oh, yes, he was an archaeologist once....)

The big blue gryphon churrs, tilting his head to the side as he examines Mikal as she speaks. Cautiously he sits back on his feline haunches and... looks like he's hacking up a hairball, or trying very hard to try and get something out with great effort, to judge by the odd sounds he's making.

Mikal tilts her head curiously, listening very carefully with both ears and mind.

Norris hrms at the broken lances. "Cat...maybe you want to see if you can help the gryphons any? Lances do not leave fun wounds, and if any of the fellows here took a wound and survived, your healing touch might be helpful..."

After a few moments, the sounds are continuing, but much like a mockingbird starting to learn sounds, eventually, the gryphon croaks out "Az... Azurrrr... Az-ur-us." It thumps a clawed forefoot against it's chest. "Az-ur-us!"

Mikal says carefully, "Your name is Azurus? Did I get that right?"

Jareth nods and takes a half-step forward, "Do any of your warriors need help with wounds they may have gotten, A-Azurus?"

Norris takes a closer look at the well-made armor with interest. It catches his attention as any fine crafting would, but armor that is unique may provide more clues as to who wore it, and what they were about. His hands run over the alloyed metal with fascination, trying to analyze the armor with any resources he can bring to bear. Who would wear this kind of armor? Are they a named angel he could possibly recognize?

The gryphon -- Azurus -- seems to duck his head a couple of times in affirmation to Mikal; speaking is apparently not easy for gryphons outside of their own language. He looks to Jareth, shaking his head in a great rolling shake.

Mikal nods slowly to the gryphon, thinking hard. Finally she says, "I would like to talk with you about the angel platoon you encountered, Azurus, but I'd like to make it easy for you if possible. Shall we say..." she holds up one hand, fingers spread, "One claw for yes, two for no?"

Azurus looks actually a little relieved, and reaches out to claw the ground a couple of times with one calw.

Mikal grins in relief, nodding, "Excellent! All right, let's see... did any of the angels escape?"

Azurus gives what sounds like a a chuffing laugh, and looks around on the ground. He makes three separate sets of claw-marks on the ground: Two, one, and two.

Mikal frowns thoughtfully, musing aloud, "No, yes, no. So... some escaped. Do you mean over two hundred escaped?"

Norris studies the breastplate... ad bit by bit he gets impressions of the wearer: Tall, brawny, a magnificent angel. And yet beaten and disheartened and demoralized. He and his century, flying back to Zion as Uriel commanded them. But a few wounded comrades they were carrying slowed them down. He is nervous and worried, eyes flicking across the clouds and the forests below, watching for enemies. He also looks up -- and that is when he sees the regal of gryphons stooping down at them. Too late, the others in his century hear the bugling of the gryphons. And then the gryphons impact the ragged century with the force of an exploding bomb. The fighting is fierce and with the sudden ambush of the gryphons, one-sided; and the last image that Norris gets from the breastplate, is the massive yellow gryphon, screaming victory as it lands on the angelic captain heavily, breaking the remaining unbroken ribs in the angel's chest, drawing back it's taloned forefoot, a blur of motion as the forepaw moves right for the captain's head... then nothing.

Azurus shakes his head again, and puts his claw at each set of claw-marks separately, giving a caw at each.

Norris drops the armor with a clang, gasping in shock. Trying to process what just happened. And then slowly understanding, looking at his hands. "Hnh. I guess I'm just full of surprises..." he says to himself...almost literally, addressing Hephaestus peering back out at him in the refelction of the polished bronze.

Mikal looks a bit surprised, but rallies gamely, "You had... you had three battles, then? Ah, I see -- then in the first one you took out all the angels, in the second some escaped, and in the third..." Her voice trails off as she muses for a moment... then she looks up at the others in consternation, "But... but why would the angels break up their army?!"

Norris closes his eyes a moment, remembering what he saw, how it felt...it's the flip side to what he was feeling earlier, angry at the angels that killed his sister, that killed Artemis, Freyja, Sleipnir. He saw the anxiety on the face of the one that wore that armor, and he feels empathy, even though they were among the ones laying siege to the rakshasa. "Uriel ordered them to." he answers in response to Mikal's question.

Jareth is quietly stroking the little red gryphkit, "Fleeing?""

Mikal shakes her head in amazement at Jareth's comment, "If so, they were incredibly demoralized by the simple act of one of the archangels being wounded! Their morale must be incredibly fragile, and based entirely on their false perception of the invulnerability of their leaders -- and by extension, their cause as well." She blinks, wondering where that came from... then grins shyly up at the big gryphon, "Are we guessing relatively correctly, Azurus -- at least as far as you know?"

Azurus considers for a moment, then reaches out to make a rapid-fire series of points in the dirt, apparently symbolizing a large number of angels. Then he makes a smaller bunch of dots to the side. He taps those dots, then goes into an almost comical impersonation of a gravely wounded gryphon, limping weary, wings dragging. Then he makes another set of dots, taps it, and does a passable imitation of a gryphon looking terrified, but he stops that for a moment, the pat those dots again and pointing to Jareth, nodding.

Norris notices that the Gryphons around the pile of trophies are quiet. A glance around and they are all looking at him expectantly. The yellow one, the one he last saw caving in the side of an angel's head, is crouched with head low to the ground and playful light in its eyes, tail upright and twitching, as if Norris is going to play with them with the breastplate.

Mikal brightens as she watches the gryphon's hand-signs, "Oh! Oh, that's clever, yes -- the old wounded grouse trick! Lead them apart with an injured and helpless target... who leads them right into ambush."

Azurus gives a squawk of affirmation at Mikal's words.

Mikal beams up at the big creature, then impulsively throws her arms about his broad shoulders as far as she can reach, "Thank you! We're so glad we could help -- thank you for helping us too!"

Norris doesn't know how to react at first. He certainly bears the yellow no malice, but it's hard to feel like playing, faced with the images he was just given from touching the armor. The redcaps were insane, battle-frenzied monsters. Empathy is much easier to give to the demoralized angels. Fortunately, Ferro helps him in this regard, who has climbed down from his shoulder and managed to crawl under a helmet and come up from under it, chirping and wearing it all cutely lopsided. Norris laughs, and takes up the helmet and lobs it underhanded to the yellow.

Azurus looks startled at the hug for a moment, then gives a faint, chuffing chuckle, and pats Mikal's back with one forepaw, being careful about his talons.

Norris's tossing of the helmet seems to be more than enough for the still-playing gryphons, and the yellow catches it in the air, in the same movement lobbing it to another.

Mikal leans back enough to see Azurus' face after a moment, still beaming as she looks almost directly up at him. "So, was Uriel kept in the center mass of the angels' army? Did they get back to Mt. Zion finally?"

Azurus squawks again, and with his free talon makes two one-claw marks in the ground: Yes, and yes.

Mikal nods in satisfaction, patting the soft feathers once before she steps back. "Thank you so much, Azurus, for talking with us. We're glad all your people are healthy and hale too." She pauses a moment, thinking, then curiously adds, "No injuries at all... you must have a way of healing yourselves, yes?"

Azurus considers how to answer, and manages to point at a green-and-white-feathered gryphon who is watching the playing gryphons with quiet contentment, lying to the side with head resting on forepaws.

Mikal looks, thinking a moment... then looks back at Azurus, "Your healer? No tools on that one that I can see, though. Do you use magic healing, then?"

Jareth is listening with interest to this part. He looks over at the green-and-white, waiting for Azurus' answer.

Azurus squawks in affirmation, drawing another claw on the ground.

Mikal grins interestedly, "Really! That's so cool!" She beams at Jareth, adding excitedly, "You two should talk -- you might be able to teach each other some neat stuff!"

Norris considers the angel's armor in his hands. Given what they now know, the sortie seems to be straightforward, and not requiring further investigation. Which is good, because he doesn't care to re-experience the last few moments of the wearer. That said...he kneels, placing the armor on the ground, and lays hands on it again. If the wearer was present when Uriel gave his orders, maybe there's other information that can be gleaned? Especially when we're all wondering about Uriel going to Babylon...he sets his mind to it, trying to see if he can go further back.

Jareth grins at Mikal, "My thoughts exactly, lapin." He kisses her on the cheek as he moves toward the green-and-white. He murmurs to his little kit, "There's got to be an easier way of speaking with you lot..."

Mikal laughs and gives Jareth a quick, exuberant hug, then settles cross-legged so she's near Azurus but can still listen to her companions.

Jareth's russet gryphkit chirps! enthusiastically but, alas, unhelpfully.

The green-and-white gryphon looks up at Jareth's approach; this close, he can see that the gryphon's eyes aren't terribly sharp; they seem to need a moment to focus on Jareth. This would also explain why the gryphon isn't playing with the others, a playing that starts to look decidedly dangerous though still with youthful exuberence. The green gryphon squawks companionably, standing as Jareth appraoches.

Norris tries to recreate what he felt a moment ago, tapping into the strange memory of the crafted item. But apparently what he already saw is the thing that comes to mind, perhaps because it came from the last few moments of the wearers life, and therefore was extremely emotionally charged. He breaks contact before having to once more see the yellow decapitate the angel.

Jareth bobs his head to the green-and-white, suspecting that age is what has dimmed its sight, "Hello there. You can think of me as Cat. Azurus says you're a healer?"

Norris lays the armor back on the pile, and grins as Ferro is busy gnawing the hell out of the remains of a lance. "Sharpening your beak?" he queries to the kit.

The green gryphon chirrups, then says very haltingly, "Am... puh-lee-zed... too... mee-eet... you-u."

Ferro for his part is gnawing on the lance like there's no tomorrow, and makes mewling growls as if he is being a fierce hunter.

Norris can't help but laugh. "That's right, Ferro, show that lance who's boss."

Jareth blinks in surprise. This gryphon seems to have an easier time talking than Azurus did, "And I'm honored to meet you. Do you have a name I can use?"

The gryphon ducks his head. "Verr... dee... cur-roy." Jareth, who has spoken French, seems to get the impression that it is 'Verdicroix.'

Norris tsks. "Don't use the gyphons name, Cat, you've got a perfectly servicable name! More than one, actually! You go borrowing other people's names, who knows if you'll remember to give it back, and then before you know i, you'd got a whole bunch of used names you're lugging around!"

Norris uhms. And looks over at Mikal. "That was supposed to be a joke, but I think it got away from me."

Jareth shoots Norris a grin and rolls his eyes, "Verdicroix... green.. green cross?"

The gryphon bobs its head, looking pleased.

For quite some time then, with the language barrier partially overcome, Jareth and Verdicroix talk "shop," as healers, in particularly the magical side of healing.

Mikal giggles startledly at Norris!

Norris had put Artemis's spear off to one side, with his sister's helm. Now taht he's awakened this new power inside himself, he's reluctant to touch the helm: he's not prepared to see what might be the final moments of the Goddess of Wisdom's life. But Artemis...if there's anything else they need to know about the quest of the Huntress and her companions, the spear might be able to tell him. So he lays hands on it, and opens himself up to it's spirit.

As he reads the spear, he gets the incontrovertible sense that it is, of course, his celibate cousin Artemis. Wild and untamed, the huntress she was for untold eons resonates throughout the boar-hunting spear. It is such a wealth of experience -- he even gets the sense from the spear that once, just once, Donner let her hunt the Gullinbursti with it. But all that is overshadowed in the last images he gets, of the fight with the angels at the crevace after Sleipnir had been felled by half a hundred lances, and the knowledge between Freyja and Artemis that this would be their last fight, and Artemis knowing that, someday, Hephaestus would return to the Dreamtime, even if but in mortal guise. And against that time, in a momentary lull in the battle, she secreted the vellum in the cunning little hidning place he had made in her spear, where she had hidden so many other secrets throughout the aeons....

And then there is more fighting, and then falling, falling, falling down into the crevasce. A sudden shock and stop... and Artamis, with the help of Freyja, in their boundless skill manage to strike the spear into the wall of the crevasce, leaving in there, to wait out the long aeons before it would be found again.

Norris finds that he was clutching the spear in his hands tightly when he came back from those powerful images, a tear run down his cheek. He is not as overcome as he had been when they first found the items, but seeing the goddesses fall into the abyss, seeing the mighty psychopomp's corpse skewered and bloodied by angels' lances does not leave him unmoved.

As Mikal is taking in the conversation ebtween Jareth and Verdicroix, and Norris continuing to examine the gryphons' spoils, Mmikal can feel Azurus tense beside her, and she feels the light tapping of something on her shoulder. Then a familiar voice says, sounding reluctant, "I, uh... though you might be wantin' this, chile. Seein's what you pulled off at where, uh, Freyja and the others... you know."

Mikal looks up and around curiously -- then blinks at sight of Baron Kriminel! She'd thought he would never wish to see her again. Cautiously she says, "Hello..." then notices he has a small journal notebook.

Norris clears his throat and glances over at Mikal, and the Baron, curious, if cautiously so, moving over to join his packmate and see what's what.

Mikal blinks at it, carefully accepting it before she looks up at the standing Baron again, "Thank you, Baron Kriminel. Um... are these your research notes? ...what changed your mind?"

"Some of them, aye." He looks away. "Heard from Papa, you went to where he saw th' goddesses go down. An' came back wi' somethin'. I don' wanna know what it is you found, not for me to know... but... you might make better use o' this than I could." He drops his voice, saying urgently and tightly, "If'n a loa could ever be beggin' somethin' from a mortal... please, chile... please. Don' let Azriel get away wit' killin' Samedi. 'E was the best of us." His lips twist in a wry rictus. "Though you di'n't hear that from me."

Norris listens to this exchange in fascination. He remembers Mikal mentioning Kriminel a little, but he certainly wasn't expecting this.

Mikal stares silently up at the loa, listening... then she smiles and unfolds from her sitting position to stand. She reaches out with her free hand, touching his arm lightly as she says, "I promise you, if there's a way to stop Azrael, we will do so to the best of our ability. This I do so swear." For a moment her storm-gray eyes flash like the lightning itself, and she seems, oddly, to tower... then it's just Mikal, looking up at the ragged, scruffy, driven-looking loa.

Kriminel looks a little startled for a moment, then he inclines his head, not meeting Mikal's gaze. He murmurs something, something that Mikal recognizes as the tongue of that group of peoples from West Africa who worshipped the Ghede as gods, before they were torn from their homeland. It sounds like a formal form of thanking Mikal, in the form of a thankful prayer to a goddess... and then the loa is gone, returning to his dark room beneath Uluru.

Mikal smiles and inclines her head courteously at the prayer, then watches silently as the loa slips away. Once he's gone she smiles ruefully at Azurus, murmuring, "That was unexpected, eh?" as she flips the book gently open.

Norris peers over Mikal's shoulder with interest. "What's it about?"

Mikal grins over her shoulder at Norris, settling back down cross-legged and patting the ground next to her in invitation. "If it's what I think it is, it's all Baron Kriminel's notes regarding his hunt for the True Name of Azrael. Have a seat! Let's read, yes?"

The small journal seems to be a summation of his 'research' -- if you can call beating angels up to within an inch of their lives 'research.' He has not found the full True Name of Azriel, but he has found a part of it... and where the rest of it may be found, carved into a wall in some icy hell of a place called Neuschwabenland.

Mikal hmms thoughtfully, then looks up at the others, "Any idea where Neuschwabenland is?"

Norris shakes his head. "Beats the hell outta me. But...let's ask the bail!"

Mikal grins and turns so Norris can pull the bail out of her backpack, "All right! Get it out please and let's ask?"

Norris digs on through it to find the globe to address it. "Bail, query: details on and probably location of Neuschwabenland, please."

The bail pings. "Neuschwabenland. Region somewhere beyond Yggdrasil, generally thought -- or at least hoped -- to be inaccessible and/or lost. Relatively young as dreamlands go, which is why it is in the Deep Wyld; it is said to be five days' journey beyond Yggdrasil, through some of the coldest terrain in the Dreamtime. It is said to be the one place that a dream-serpent will absolutely refuse to bring anyone to. Some legends in the region of Yggdrasil say that it is also the one place where Thrones of Death will not travel to -- if a mortal dies there, they stay there, according to legend. No Throne of Death has confirmed or denied this."

Mikal puzzledly asks, "Why is it so bad?" She adds to Raphael, "What's a 'schwaben,' do you know?"

The bail considers for several long moments. "I do not have a definitive answer to that question. Neuschwabenland has a foul reputation as the Dreamtime echo of places where many mortals were killed in the Waking. It is also considered a place of bad omen; travellers outward from Yggdrasil have occasionally reported hearing a distant, forboding bell, and seeing a sun that shone 'darkly.'"

Raphael shakes his head; he does note that 'Neuschwabenland' means, actually, 'New Swabia.' Neuschwabenland is also, he seems to recall, a region of Antarctica, but he gets the feeling that this is very, very different.

Mikal looks more puzzled, "But... but mortals have been killed in large numbers all over the earth. Why is this different?"

The bail replies, "I do not have a definitive answer to that question. Most of what is known about Neuschwabenland, outside of it's general location, is hearsay and unreliable, and has not been verified."

Mikal frowns thoughtfully, then says slowly, "Is... is Tigernmus from there? Or rather, from near there?"

Norris scratches his chin. "Sounds like a dangerous place. If we're going to go there, it would seem to be a long trip... we should see to matters closer to home before making that journey. Like stopping Uriel from opening those seals at Babylon, if we can."

"No. Lord Tigernmus is from Mag Sleacht, the Plain of Adoration, which is in the Deep Wyld but is situated approximately equidistant from Yggdrasil and Olympus."

Mikal nods thoughtfully to the bail, then smiles at Norris, "We don't have to worry about those -- Azurus told us Uriel returned to Mt. Zion. The message said to open the seals only if Uriel didn't return."

Norris ohs! "Oh, excellent point. That's right...I forgot that the message was for Michael, too, not something that Uriel was going to do himself. Duh."

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