Bough -- Logs

The rain coming down is thick and heavy and makes seeing more than ten to twenty paces almost impossible. It comes down in torrents, not at all helped by the gale-force winds that roar through the streets of this most ancient of quarters of Babylon. Another peal of thunder shatters the sky.

At the distant top of the ziggurat, the ceremony continues as if the celebrants -- and the remembering god -- don't know it's raining in sheets, even though the banners are almost horitzontal and no surface is going dry... including the group of mortals in the courtyard.

Norris stands in the drenching rain, unmoving, almost enjoying the water pouring down on him. If any water could be considered holy, it would be this water! That said, he is glad his armor is well-treated to protect from moisture. And in thinking of the armor, he realizes that something else in him has unlocked. He smiles to himself, realizing now that, because he has opened himself more to the god within, it could be possible, now, for him to make armor that would not hinder Mikal in any way. He must...explore this possibility.

Jareth pushes his hair back with both hands and turns his face up to the rain, eyes closed. He's glad that his torso is completely bare and enjoys the water streaming down his body. There's a quiet voice whispering about this bringing Zion's attention, but he can't really bring himself to care.

Mikal laughs aloud, her face upturned as she glories in the storm! She suddenly remembers Ebih, the arrogant mountain, and her laughter gains a fierce edge -- she had used the terrible storms to bring down the mountain's unwarranted pride, to destroy the unnatural thing and return the land to its original fecundity. She raises her hands fearlessly, shouting out commandingly as the lightning crackles and strikes -- although the crack and roar of thunder makes it hard to hear what she said. She seems lost in the moment, her shift plastered wetly sleek along her body and ecstasy on her wet face.

The great and terrible thunder sounds again, and bit by bit, the storm starts to subside; the ceremony at the top of the zigguraut seems to be coming to an end. While the clouds sweep by overhead at great speed, they start to thin, and the harsh sun of Mesopotamia and the Levant begins to burn through. The rainfall lessens somewhat, becoming a harsh storm in the summer's midday.

Norris's ideas about armor are distracted by the storm. He hopes his earlier assertion about this moment being removed from reality is true, else this storm would be a big indication that Something Is Going On. As the storm itself lessens, he tries to get a better sense of what's going on around them again, wondering if others are moving.

Bit by bit, the sky starts to clear, until at last the sun burns through the cloud cover. Like anywhere in the Levant after such a torrential rain, it is warm and humid, and getting increasingly warm, but the wind ameliorates some of the heat, as it still canters through the streets. Outside the courtyard, the inhabitants of the Temples Quarter begin to emerge from their homes, looking a little stunned yet.

Norris grimaces, and rubs his forehead. Their situation has not improved. "Can you tell if they can see us? Maybe it's just the storm that surprised them?" he murmurs to Jareth.

Norris scans the sky for angels. As before, there is no sign of Mount Zion in the sky; likewise, there is no sign of angels swooping in. Norris is glad he's relieved by this, and is not welcoming a fight. He turns to look at Baal and his people, to see what they're up to now.

Jareth wrings water out of his hair, eyes bright as he looks around and then focuses on the top of the ziggurat. He doesn't even realize he's holding his breath.

The top of the zigguraut has only a few people, but it looks as if the ceremony has completed. Baal Hadad now looks exactly like his Mesopotamian aspect, Adad the god of storms, though he still has a bit of a wondering look as he and the high priest step down from the top of the zigguraut, the last of the rain pattering against the stairs.

Norris takes Jareth's hand, and follows in Adad's wake, to see what happens next. Also, not wanting to let the god out of his sight till there is some hope of safety for him.

Jareth lets himself be pulled along, eyes bright. He feels himself pulled so many ways in this city that sometimes he doens't know exactly who he is sometimes.

Hadad -- no, Adad, reaches the bottom of the steps; he is looking at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time in a long time. "It has... been so long," he says, as if confirming his thoughts. He looks to the mortals. "When I became Baal Hadad and the son of El Elyion, I never thought... I hadn't realized what I was giving up..."

Norris smiles. "Do you feel better, now? More yourself?"

Adad nods slowly, looking to Norris. "Yes... yes, somewhat. I still... I still feel the pull of be the antikristos but not so much anymore. I think... I think I can retain myself for a long time, now."

Lilith's voice comes from Jareth's mouth, her knowledge peeking from his eyes, "We all gave up much for him. Some remember me as nothing but a whorish demon wife. And, then there are some that remember the true me. There are a few that remember the essence of you, Adad."

Norris looks relieved! "Must you stay to retain your sense of self? I am merely worried about the Architect's minions laying siege...unless this entire moment has been hidden from his eyes."

Adad nods soberly to Jareth-LIlith, then glances to the high priest. The older man sas slowly, "We believe it would be best. Here we may reinforce our Lord Adad's sense of self, and keep the... influence of the Architect's worshippers in the waking," he says the phrase if he's an inch away from spitting on the ground, "at bay."

Norris nods sagely. "That is well enough for all, then. We are grateful you have found your place here, Adad."

Mikal stands still in the courtyard, her face upturned to the sky and her small fists clenched at her sides. She is silent, but there is a thrumming feeling of power, impatience, and growing frustration within her, almost shimmering around her.

Norris notices his packsister's tension. "Is there something wrong, Rabbit?"

Adad nods slowly, then pauses, and asks Lilith. "Do you... do you remember why you went to El Elyion?" he asks her softly, brow furrowed as he tries to remember as well.

Mikal continues to stare skywards for a moment, as if searching for something -- then she yanks her gaze away and sighs, nearly stomping towards the courtyard's exit. She mutters to Norris, "Want to... want to slap that arrogant fool silly! When?! When will we restore the natural balance? I do not see us getting there yet!"

Lilith/Jareth smiles and says, "It seems to keep coming back to love. Those that went to him became his family first."

Norris uhs? "Rabbit, wait, what is wrong?" he queries, leaving Jareth with Adad for a moment, as he tries to stop Mikal from stomping off.

Mikal whirls and looks for a moment like she's going to explode -- then she realizes her packmates might take personally her anger at the presumptuous and murderous god of Zion. She sighs tightly, grabbing a handful of Norris' sleeve in her attempt to make sense, "It's... him! He is the cause of all this -- all the deaths, all the terror, all of us hiding -- Adad still having to hide! I want to set El-Amon-Re straight -- give him a good spanking or more roughage in his diet -- whatever it takes!" She shakes her fist in frustration, absently yanking Norris' sleeve about as she does so, "And we're not yet! We're too weak! How do we get stronger, faster? Every day that arrogant, cruel, self-centered old bastard remains in power is one more day of damage done, that we haven't stopped!"

Norris tries not to smile at the idea of spanking the Architect, or feeding him roughage. He knows that Mikal is earnest. "You're wrong. We've done more good than you give us or anyone else credit for. He may be in power, but that power is more uncertain now. We bloodied his nose at the rakshasa redoubt, we've turned a few of his angels against him. We've inspired other that fight against him, given them new hope. And now we just stole the dammned Anti-Christ." He puts his hand on Mikal's "And we are *all* stronger, made ever more so just from being in this place! But you must remember, Rabbit, the reason we are here...because force of arms alone cannot stop him. We are doing the things that must be done, slow, and certain, and are undermining him even more with every victory. This is great good we are doing."

Norris looks into Mikal's eyes. "Remember what you told me, Rabbit. Keep your passion to the ends that will cause the most good. Even if it takes the longer path."

Mikal sighs frustratedly, looking away for a moment as she collects herself. When she looks back at Norris she isn't smiling, but she isn't furious any more. "I know. But still..." she sighs, shaking her head, and murmurs, "Let's go. Adad needs to recover without us hovering over him."

Norris nods agreeably, and motions to Jareth. "We will be on our way."

Mikal heads for the big temple gateway, pausing to turn and call over her shoulder to Norris, "I just want to -- to kick him sometimes, you know?"

Norris looks back at Mikal will all seriousness. "I'll make you special boots in case we ever get the opportunity." he assures.

Mikal's smile is initially reluctant... but then Raphael bumps companionably against her and she laughs. She throws an arm over the big raptor wolf, calling back to Norris, "I'll hold you to that, brother Bear!" She turns and trots out cheerfully with Raphael, who glances over his shoulder and winks at the big, earnest young man.

Norris is far too cheered by the wolf's approval.

Adad nods slowly, letting out a breath. "As it was with me. There was something to love in him, long ago...."

Adad and the priest bid them farewell, on whatever the next step of their journey might be. AS the group steps out of the courtyard, they are almost -- but not quite -- bowled over by a company of soldiers, wearing the grass capes and linen loincloths, with bronze helms and spears, as they charge through the street to the Adad gate.

Mikal steps aside adroitly, calling curiously, "What occurs?!"

One of the soldiers turns, half-skipping as he tries to keep up with his comrades, "Soldiers at the Adad gate! They seek entry, but they are forbidden!" Then he is gone with the rest of his company.

Mikal smiles slowly, with an edge of ferocity. She murmurs softly, "Should we go and... distract them, my Packmates? Perhaps with a... commotion at another gate?"

Norris looks uncertain. "Would that work? They would not be able to have swift communication with another gate. Perhaps we should merely meet the forces head on."

Jareth smiles almost gleefully, "Oh, but this city knows us. She'll help."

Norris blinks. "What do you mean?"

Mikal tilts her head to grin up at her much larger and taller packbrother, "Now who was it who just told me we weren't strong enough to take the fight to them?"

Norris looks amused. "We are not strong enough to fight angels and gods alone. Soldiers are entirely another matter." he says assuredly.

Mikal turns that wicked grin to Jareth, "Would you like to see your gate? Take Norris... and Raphael and I will awaken mine, I think. How does that sound?"

Norris blinks. They have gates? Wait...of course they do. He has seen the map. And this is their city.

The suggestion is all it takes for Lilith to slide to the fore, though the body stays the same. The goddess laughs, eyes bright with something near to mischief, "Yes. It has been too long. Perhaps she has been waiting for us."

Mikal chuckles, her eyes dancing with mischief, "Commotions on three sides of the city -- what shall they do?!" She grins as she adds, "Come meet us in my temple, all right?"

Norris's eyes get wide at the idea of it. This is where the palace is: things are likely to get very interesting, very quickly.

Lilith/Jareth nods and reaches for Norris, taking him by the shirt-tail as she heads for her son, Sin's, gate. The transition from blond male form to dusky-dark, bare-breasted goddess is gradual, but it certainly changes the view to which Norris is treated as he's led through the quarter.

Mikal turns and darts down the narrow road which leads through the entire city on a west-east axis. She can cross the bridge over the Euphrates, dash through the city's central courtyard and past her temple, then out the Marduk Gate -- to turn north and run around the corner of the city, past Sin's Gate to the main highway that leads into the city. That road is crowned by the Ishtar Gate, its brilliant cobalt and gold mosaics shimmering in the sunlight.

Norris is the one being pulled, now! But...he doesn't mind. The view is not part of that, really. Well. Hmm. Mostly.

Norris does try to keep his mind on business. Lilith's nudity is holy, after all, and not really prurient. He makes a point of looking out for any that would hinder their path: while he's certain that Lilith is quite capable of making a crowd part for her, he is still worried for her safety. As the smith would be. And as Hephaestus would be for his wife.

The group dash down the boulevard, crossing the Euphrates and going across the north edge of the great Esagila. They cross the the great north-south causeway -- Mikal and Jareth recognize it as the place where the crazed priests of An attacked the priestesses of Inanna in one of their "flashbacks" -- and Ishtar's temple. A bit farther on, they reach another north-south causeway, and Jareth and Norris head north to the Sin gate.

Norris makes a point, at some later time, to ask Lilith about her son, very curious about the etemology of 'Sin'....

Lilith isn't quite running, but she's not meandering, either. She wants to get to Sin's gate, to see if her motherhood of the god is enough to waken the gate. She grins over her shoulder at Norris, "Not like you might think. It has nothing to do with crimes against any of the gods."

Norris blinks, and flushes as the goddess picks his thoughts right out of the air! "Actually, I was wondering if later people took your son's name and made it into a vile thing because of something he did they dissaproved of..." he replies.

Lilith laughs and says, "Languages are strange things. Growing things. Mutating things. Words and stories change into different things. Or sometimes there is a coincidence. My Su'en's name has nothing to do with guilt. A sin has more to do with the Romans. The word they used for guilty eventually became the world for breaking divine law."

Norris and Jareth-Lilith reach the gate of Sin. It is, like the other gates, made of great bronze plates; upon this one is the figure of Sin or Nanna, his beard made of lapis lazuli, and astride a great, winged bull. The bas relief is a single figure, split between both doors of the gate, and flanking the figure is a tripod and crescent.

Norris is clearly fascinated by this information. "And what was he like, my Lady?" he queries, gazing upon the mighty bearded man astride his bull.

Jareth-Lilith smiles a bit, "Very serious." Her eyes flicker toward the direciton of Adad's temple, "Those that gave themselves to be the sons of my lover Enlil, the Bull of Heaven, tended toward seriousness. Even Joshua. But he was not cruel."

Norris nods encouragingly. "Go to him, Packsister-brother. Awaken him again." he urges.

Lilith laughs and turns, going up on the balls of her feet to kiss Norris, holding his dear face in both hands for a moment before she moves to pass through the gate. She closes her eyes as she moves, reaching out ot her city and whispering for it to awaken.

Norris stands there a moment, stunned. A kiss from Lilith is...very different than kissing Jareth was. He looks around him for a moment. Yep, still upright. Thank goodness. In his mind, Hephaestus laughs. he murmurs smugly.

As she approaches the gate, it is as if the area becomes more and more oppressively still. There is no sound from anywhere else, and all Norris and Jareth/Lilith can hear are their own breathing. Not even birds can be heard. The gates seem to start to vibrate a little, as if there is an earth tremor.

And then with the sound of bending metal the bull and its rider step off of the gate. The bronze hooves of the bull stamp into the durt ground, and it tosses its head a little, giving a mighty snort. There is no way that the bull could be mistaken for a real one, much less its stylized rider; once the bull has stepped fully from the door it looks like nothing less than a statue. Not being a realistic art style, it is decidedly unnerving to look at.

Norris and Hephaestus look on in awe and wonder. The gate is awake.

Lilith's eyes shine, her shoulders back and her chin up. Jareth, the bard, understands how sometimes simple shapes are sometimes more powerful than more realistic ones. After all, one cannot speak of every hair on a hero's head. The archetype is what matters. Lilith raises her voice and says, "I have come home, my son!"

The bas-relief-cum-statue stops before her, larger than life and imposingly metallic. The bull snorts a little as the statue seems to study Lilith with sightless eyes. "It has been a long time, Mother!" the statue booms. "Much has changed, but that you birthed me has not! What would you ask of me?"

Lilith laughs at the solemn demeanor of the metallic representation of the god, "I wish to pass through your gate, my child. I wish to speak to my city and have her hear my voice again. I wish the stones to sing again with joy!"

The statue laughs, a loud, metallically hollow booming sound. "You may always pass through my gate, Mother. That would never be in question. Come, then! Pass through these doors as you were wont to do so many times!" The bull and its rider steps back, and once again, become one with the doors with the sound of bending metal.

Once the statue becomes one with the doors again, the doors begin to creak open, and the sounds return to normal. In fact everything seems to come back to normal, and people can once again be seen milling about, both within the Quarter and without.

It is curious; being close to the wall when it opens means that one would not see Mount Zion anyway, but once the gates open one can look towards the 'north' end of the city, and see the towering mountain through the doorway.

Mikal nearly flies down the narrow roadway after Jareth and Norris split off; she's got one hand buried in Raphael's heavy mane and is letting him half-tow her as he gallops along. As she passes through the Marduk Gate she spits, claiming and rejuvenating the land with her fertility and sacred moisture. After that, without even thinking about it she spreads her wings and flies just above the ground: the girl who loved to laugh, and her dear companion racing along beneath her.

By the time she's landed outside the Ishtar Gate she's no longer wet, and she looks every inch the Queen she is. Her curling crown of horns rests on her head. Her lapis-lazuli beaded necklace graces her throat and egg-shaped carnelians rest on her breast; the pala robe of the Lady outlines her slender form. Worn over her upper body is the pectoral called "Come, man, come," and her eyes are enhanced with the kohl called, "Let a man come, let him come." She wears gold rings on her fingers and holds the lapis-lazuli measuring rod and line of royalty in her hand. She stands before the huge Ishtar Gate -- her gate! -and admires its sturdy, elegant beauty.

The gate itself is a marvel, standing over three stories tall and crowned with parapets that shimmer brilliant lapis and cobalt blue in the nearly oppressive desert sunshine. The entryway itself is as tall as three men standing on top of each other, its welcoming dark shadows within offering shelter from the heavy sunlight. Sinuous, golden-scaled dragons and roaring, heavy-maned lions -- both taller than a man -- stride fiercely back and forth over the wide blue columns, and the huge overhead archway is trimmed with the decorative flower-and-branch motifs of the ever-twining Tree of Life.

Stepping closer, Inanna/Ishtar can see her name repeated over and over in the hatched cuneiform writing of Sumer: the four slashes (each shaped like a horseshoe nail) in the characteristic star pattern that praises the Eastern Star, the daughter of the Moon, Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth. Inanna laughs aloud and raises her hand, crying out, "Welcome your Lady home, my people!"

Though she does not know it, something similar happens to Ishtar gate as it did to Sin gate. The area surrounding her goes still; she barely even notices the people who have stopped to stare in the perpetual carnival of the Silks Quarter. But instead of a statue stepping from the gate, there is instead a voice, a voice which says, "Who calls to the City of Cities? Who claims its people as her own?"

It is hard to tell if it is Mikal's voice, or Jareth's/Lilith's voice.

Mikal shouts back strongly, her voice rolling and echoing like thunder, "Open up, doorman, open up. Open up, my gateman, open up. I am Inanna going to the East and I want to come in."

There is a faint tremor felt through the ground, and the gate shakes. It is almost as if it is sealed, because with a great crack as if from breaking bronze, the gates open by a few inches, then swings inward.

The street beyond, which Mikal is certain had been filled with people the handful of minutes ago that she was there, is empty. But moment by moment sound starts to emanate from... somewhere. Tambourines and horns and drums. Then there are voices, upraised in singing. She isn't quite sure where the priestesses come from, but suddenly, first a handful, then a score are there, in a smaller procession than she remembers but one with no less devotion.

Lilith puts a hand over her heart. The mountain is magnificent, and it is heart-wrenching that it has become the symbol of such oppression and sadness. Closing her eyes, she holds in her mind the image of the days when Babylon and Zion were not at war and she steps through her son's gate, reaching out to see if it remembers her.

Stepping through the gate seems to be an almost physical experience -- other than stepping through a gate, of course. There is an almost palpable sensation of passing through a membrane or a surface as Jareth-Lilith and Norris step through the gate.

A bit down the street, right in front of the gate, is a short, broad walkway flanked by Sumerian sphinxes -- human-headed lions -- and a pair of city guards, not in Church livery but doubtless allied. They glance over their shoulders, then do a double-take as one, staring, and turning. Two of the guards lower their spears defensively and warily; one drops it altogether as they stare at Lilith. "This... may not be good," the one who hadn't lowered or dropped his spear, apparently the sergeant, says, still in awe. He shakes the one who dropped his spear. "You -- go tell the Church guard, they're at the Adad gate! They'll want to see this." As the soldier runs off, the sergeant raises his voice. "I... that is... Identify yourself!" His words lack some iron.

Lilith's mouth twitches up at the corner in amusement, "You look as if you already have some idea who I am." She continues down the street toward him.

Norris stands resolutely side-by-side with Lilith, arms folded. He doesn't feel the need to identify himself as anyone other than as Lilith's man-at-arms, but is careful to show no outward display of hostility. Lilith may be able to avoid a direct conflict. And yet, his fingers do twitch with concern.

The sergeant pales. "We've... we've not seen a goddess in...." He shakes himself. "Wh-who are you! I must warn you, the Church guard has been sent for!"

Overhead, the previously clear blue sky is starting to gather a few wispy white clouds.

Lilith smiles, "You have not seen a goddess in too long if this is how you greet one." She doesn't seem concerned about their weapons, "But why are you threatening me in my own city?" She looks over her shoulder at the gate, "But, perhaps we should return. I should hate to inconvenience the church guards."

The sergeant's jaw drops. "I.... no, wait!" Then, more plaintitively, "Wait... please.... Would you... would you tell us your names?"

Norris looks up at the storm clouds, wondering if Adad is making his presence known. He chokes back laughter, though, at the idea of 'inconveniencing' the church warriors. He looks squarely at the man...and closes his eyes. His legs creak as they twist and distort, his beard grows in blonde, his eyes become as coals. "I am Hephaestus Herasson, sir. And the gods have returned." his voice booms.

Under her breath, Lilith murmurs with lazy humour, "So much for discretion."

Norris looks at Lilith, smiling dryly. "I will not lie to this one, packsister. His eyes ask for hope, and I have given it to him. Besides, you coming to this gate, and our sister to hers, is hardly discreet."

Lilith smiles, "I've got so many, but Lilith seems to be sitting best lately. My son was good enough to let me use his gate."

The guards look at each other worriedly, while the blue eyes of the older, greying guard widen. "As you deities are my witness," he says, haltingly, "I do not know what to make of this. Truly it is a miracle, and there will be cause for joy in all quarters of Babylon... but truly too it means war on high yet again."

The goddess laughs and says, "The war has never ended, sergeant. What we do is not to prolong it, but to bring it to a true peace." She reaches out and takes Haphaestus' hand, "Let us go."

The smith-god's lips purse. "The war was begun long ago." he agrees with Lilith. "It does not end till the Architect rules all...or we bring him down from his lofty perch, one way or another. This is merely the latest skirmish. But have no fear. This is not your fight." He squeezes Lilith's hand, and goes with her.

Inanna hears the music and drums and song, and tosses her head back and laughs! The girl who loved to laugh has returned to her city, and she laughs aloud with joy. The Queen of Heaven and Earth walks into her city through the Ishtar Gate, singing and celebrating with her priestesses.

As she enters the city, she can tell that behind her the City guards are staring; it takes some time before the sergeant of that detail sends someone to run to the Church forces, on the other side of the city at the Adad gate.

The Temple Quarter seems to be coming alive; the desultory and idly meandering aethyrs and mortals who have been giving some semblance of daily life in this the oldest of Babylon's Quarters -- which is in fact, Babylon itself -- are now starting to gather -- it is not a massive throng and it is at first more curious than anything. But it is growing, and has formed a procession both curious and jubilant by the time it reaches the soaring steps of the E-temen-an-ki zigguraut.

Inanna pauses by the royal palace, one hand resting lightly on the mane of her faithful companion. Traditionally she was the king-maker, and one of the rightful titles of the kings of Babylon was "Beloved of Inanna." The goddess sighs softly, both disappointed and unsurprised there is no ruler in the city currently; that certainly explains the rather confused nature of those within. Inanna turns and continues her slow walk along the main north-south road through her ancient and beloved city, and calls to her people, "Let all my people rejoice! Let the drums and tambourines resound! Let sweet music be played! Let all the lands proclaim my noble name! Let my people sing my praises!"

The throng roars its approval, and begins to play the old songs, the old hymns to Inanna. The sound is audbile throughout the Quarter; Jareth-Lilith and Norris are just crossing the Euphrates when they hear the sound.

Hephaestus grins boyishly. "I think she succeeded in being distracting." he quips contentedly.

Mikal sings with her people as she walks to her temple, in complex harmonies with strongly beating drums and the shrill ululation of the women, "The Boat of Heaven has docked at the Ishtar Gate in Babylon! The Queen has aroused wonder at the Ishtar Gate. Inanna has aroused wonder at the Ishtar Gate, for the Boat of Heaven has arrived at Babylon." At the temple of Ishtar, the goddess pauses long enough in her re-entry into the city to accept sacrifice and song at the holy shrine within. She does not stay long, however, calling her people and her priestesses together so they may reclaim the E-temen-an-ki, joining Lilith and her people in order to re-dedicating the ancient temple to its rightful purpose: a place of worship for the goddesses and a seat of justice for the city.

The group reunites on the Esagila. In the center of the square is the massive zigguraut that was claimed by Marduk, the legendary Tower of Babel, here in all its glory; south of the Esagila, stands what is nominally Marduk's temple, much less noticable and elaborate than the E-temen-an-ki.

Inanna laughs and waves at sight of Lilith and Hephaestus, and Loki tosses his head and roars a greeting. The smaller woman gladly hugs Hephaestus and Lilith, "Well met, Star of the East! Well met, holy Smith! I have already visited my E-anna, and the temple is vibrant once more. Our people dance and sing for joy at our return. Shall we reclaim the E-temen-an-ki for the goddesses and the people of this city?"

Lilith walks up to Inanna and wraps her arms around her in an exhuberant and joyful hug, laughing warmly, "From what I am hearing and seeing in the streets, we should do it more quickly. The city is likely to be well aware of us soon.

Norris nods solemnly. "If they are not already. While it certainly seems there there is a stir, and an upswelling of support, we are not ready to take on the hosts of the Architect yet, even with Adad here."

Inanna turns, one arm still about Lilith's waist as she waves a hand toward the tall, spiraling temple and calls out to the people, "To the ancient temple, people of Babylon! We shall awaken the city into devotion once more!"

Norris looks towards the stormclouds, wondering if they have been following the two gods, or if they are merely crowning the temple district itself.

The clouds are gathering still more; they haven't become thunderheads just yet, just light ripples, tattered white blankets over the earth for the time being.

The people cheer the idea, and begin the great processional to the E-temen-an-ki. And as they approach, the clouds gather still thicker, turning grey and forboding. They do not appear to be a positive reaction to Inanna's approach to the E-temen-an-ki.

Hephaestus blinks as he senses the dark nature of the clouds. At first he thought them belonging to Adad, and he was certianly willing to accept they might be a symbol of Inanna herself. But now... "This does not look well."

The thronging crowd starts to fill the Esagila, the sound rising to the heavens and filling the Quarter, and with the Sin and Ishtar gates open, throughout Babylon in general.

Inanna calls to the crowd, "People of Babylon! Your Ladies are gratified at your welcome. Will you reclaim your city and your temple, the E-temen-an-ki? Will you stand proud once more, secure in the love of your goddesses and god? Go forth, good people, and let us reclaim the temple once more. Let it become the Seat of Justice for your city, and the House of the Deities of Babylon!" She looks thoughtfully up at the clouds, remembering her ancient nature.

She hears and remembers the songs being sung to her: "Goddess of the fearsome divine powers, clad in terror, riding on the great divine powers, Inana, made complete by the strength of the holy ankar weapon, drenched in blood, rushing around in great battles, with shield resting on the ground, covered in storm and flood, great lady Inana, knowing well how to plan conflicts, you destroy mighty lands with arrow and strength and overpower lands. In heaven and on earth you roar like a lion and devastate the people. Like a huge wild bull you triumph over lands which are hostile. Like a fearsome lion you pacify the insubordinate and unsubmissive with your gall." Inanna raises her head and commands the clouds to rain cleansing waters over the hot, dusty walls of the temple.

Hephaestus looks at Inanna, and then at the clouds with interest, to see if they will do her will.

The long steps up to the top of the zigguraut are empty; in fact, looking up to the large ampitheater-like enclosed peak of the Tower of Babel, it appears deserted, though a dark and odd, wispy incense can now be seen rising from the censers. The first of the people of Babylon, eager to reclaim the temple, begin up the long, winding steps.

She can feel the clouds, now on the verge of becoming thunderheads, tremble at her touch... but they do not move, and Inanna-Mikal feels their resistance to her commands; they tremble, but they do not open up the firmament upon the temple. In fact, the clouds appear to be arranged somewhat awkwardly even as they thicken and darken, letting a harsh swatch of blazing sunlight through to hold the temple fast. The downpour the clouds are commanded to unleash are being stayed... by another.

It takes a moment of thought and reckoning, and Inanna-Mikal can tell that whatever is causing this interference or resistance, is at the top of the E-temen-an-ki. The two impetuses -- Mikal-Inanna's and this Other -- appear to be either well-matched, or enough such that she would not be able to take full control of the clouds above. It may be that investigation of what is hiding within the temple at the top of the zigguraut is in order.

Lilith starts up the steps amongst the people of Babylon, reaching out and touching some of them as they pass, eyes set on the top of the ziggurat.

Inanna concentrates for a moment -- then laughs and spreads her arms and wings as she leaps into the air, "Come, my beloved children! Come, my adored lovers! Come, my family, and we shall reunite on the temple's summit!" Loki gives his rare yodeling howl as he bounds up the temple stairs below the winged goddess ascending with slow, powerful wingbeats.

Hephaestus is bemused by the lack of rain - he didn't expect the clouds to be so rude as to say no. But when Lilith and then Inanna suddenly go upward, he follows in their wake, hurrying to catch up.

As the group ascends the steps, the clouds darken and thicken, but if anything that single swath of sunlight intensifies as if it were the desert's sun, casting sharp shadows upon the stone steps and walls.

Some of the Babylonians reach the top of the steps ahead of the others, intent on claiming the temple for the goddess... when a sudden gale-force wind explodes out from the open-air temple, casting them out with shouts of surprise to have the dozen or so aethyrs and mortals tumble down the steps before they are caught and stopped by others, before they fall all the way down.

Inanna reaches out to stop the violent winds from harming the people, then calls out, "Who dares strike down the people of Babylon in their own city? Who shows no respect as I approach? Who offers no honor to the deities of Babylon as they approach their temple?"

Hephaestus stands fast against the torrent of wind, ignoring the assault...he would draw his weapon, but he will likely need his hands unencumbered should he need to climb. So he fights his way up the steps.

Her efforts still the winds enough that more are not flung to their deaths. And in answer to Inanna's call, there is a bull-roar shout from the temple, a voice haughty and proud and male, speaking Babylonian like her: "It is to the god of Babylon whom you must show respect, goddess! For it is upon his temple steps that you tread, and into his presence into which you come!"

The smith-god stops in his tracks, stunned. "It cannot be." he mutters, before rushing forward. "Don't tell me that Marduk actually survived the Godswar." he growls at no one.

Inanna pauses in shock, trying to remember. Didn't she see Marduk fall in battle all those years ago? Didn't he die while attempting to stem the innumerable forces of El-Amon-Re? She frowns; surely no impostor would dare! -and yet... she swoops down to see for herself, calling, "Marduk, is that you? How did you survive?!"

The air seems to solidify within the temple, swirling and swooping into the bipedal form of a man., stepping forward from the center of the temple. As the figure steps to stand on the edge of the platform atop the zigguraut, the air has solidified into the tall, muscular, sun-weathered form of the god of Babylon, Marduk. Beard of tightly-curled hair and conical cap, quiver at his waist and bow, shimmering with all colors, in his hands, he stands there, eyes blazing. "You need ask? After all this time, you need ask?"

Inanna stares down at him, her broad eagle wings effortlessly holding her in place. Her voice is cold, "Considering you have hidden all this time while others fought, suffered, and died -- considering that you do not appear to have kept up your temple -- and considering that you just struck down your own people... yes, I have to ask."

Marduk bares his teeth. "Yes; perhaps that was too theatrical. Mind you, little goddess, like you I have had many aspects throughout the aeons, many names to my name. This aspect, this face has lain dormant for so very long, much as you have. It is curious, is it not, Inanna? To have so many names, to see those names changed and spoken differently by our worshippers. To in time be subsumed, absorbed, and to become another? You hove gone through this." He looks to Norris. "You have as well, with the many names you have held, 'Vulcan' being but one. Your lineage, too, reaches back to the Fertile Crescent." To Jareth. "And yours.... how winding and convoluted yours has been, Lilith! To go from goddess to mortal to demoness!

"But that is how I stand before you now. I know not where you hid all this time, or how you escaped the angels, but when you opened the gates I turned my face from Mount Zion onto my temple and came to see what there was to see. And what I saw was you three ascending my temple. Hear my words and know them to be true: I AM WHO I AM. I may not have the face of the Great Architect, in this half-forgotten god-form, but it is enough to hold this temple, I assure you! And this temple... this city... this people... are mine."

Inanna is silent for a long moment, studying the little man standing below her, and the wind whispers through her hair and feathers. Finally she says simply, "No. You do not own these people, puppet. They choose their deities... and if they refuse you, you will fall."

Lilith raises her face and says, "The people, Marduk, are their own."

Hephaestus feels the veins of his mortal body burn. In the face of angels, he could, perhaps, control his passion. In spite of what he's lost to the Architect's minions, he could still find forgiveness for them, for being the instruments of their creators will. But faced with an avatar of El-Amon-Re himself, he draws his rakshasa-forged mace, and holds it ready. And yet he holds, not striking the first blow, though his rage burns hotter than the molten earth in his blood. "Your overconfidence is your weakness." he says flatly.

Marduk, a half-forgotten aspect of El-Amon-Re, once his own being and later a part of the Architect, stands at the head of the stairs of the E-temen-an-ki. Ruddy-skinned and with hair and beard of tight curls, carrying a massive, heavy bow, he roars at the godling mortals' words. "Listen to yourselves! A mere aspect of the Architect, of the Bull of Heaven, I may be, but you... where have you been all these ages? And what arrogance on you part to come forth now, and claim this city and this temple as your own!

"Well," he continues, reaching to his quiver. "I will put to rest your attempt at a return. It is only fitting that a memory lay to rest another memory!

Mikal floats easily on the swirling winds, and her voice carries easily, although she does not shout, "Arrogance? We came to return the E-temen-an-ki to the people of the city, to restore its forgotten pride." She glances down at the temple's stepped stairs, adding firmly, "Good people! Descend and await; the more physical aspects of this argument are best conducted well away from your possible damage. Aid us if you will, by recalling to mind the power and glory of Ishtar and Lilith and Adad, and think not on poor Marduk, absorbed by Yahweh. Remember! Go to your homes and pray, city of Babylon!"

Mikal says nothing to Loki/Raphael, silently slinking around the side of the pyramid steps -- she does not wish to draw attention to him. To Hephaestus, however, she calls, "Will you stand silent and wait, son of Hera? Or will you stride boldly to the attack of he who wishes to utterly crush the Feminine Divine?" She draws Papaios, adding silently to the bow, [How much aten have you to hand? Enough to slay a god?]

Lilith swoops down on her owl's wings over the people, urging them back away from the aspect of the mad god. Anger crackles along her nerves, but there is a sadness underlying it. So many insidious aspects of El-Amon-Re. So much beauty gone to anger and cold.

Hephaestus actually smiles, even as his passionate need to do violence to this face of the Architect simmers below the surface. "Memories have more power than you give credit. Already, they have awoken far more in this city than you ever could: history, struggle, love. Memory is power, for as long as one person remembers, nothing is ever dead." he says thickly. His words only for Marduk: this place is not his, he cannot rally the people as his packmates could. But he is yet Innana's fist. And the memories of his loved ones fuel his strength. He brought low one bull - he can help strike down another.

Tne people, now stunned to see yet another god apeparing, draw back en masse from the E-temen-an-ki, gaping in surprise and some in shock. It doesn't take long before the aethyrs and mortal dreams have vacated the steps.

Marduk watches almost casually, bow in one hand and arrow in the other, leaving it unknocked and apparently waiting.

Hephaestus was half-convinced that Marduk, is his arrogance, would strike the first blow� and yet he stands there, unconcerned, waiting for his enemies to come to him. But at Mikal's urging, he does stride up the steps, fueled by Inanna's urging, his passion coming to the fore. One step becomes two, and then three, and then the smith god is charging thunderously up the steps, no war cry in his throat: only a ponderous intensity. For all those who have died. He swings back his mace, preparing to have at this arrogant 'lord of lords'.

The bow whispers back to Mikal, [Marduk is weakened from the lack of worship given him; he is a shadow. I have enough awen reserves to mortally wound him; however, it will drain my reserves; I will only be able to produce normal arrows for you until at least the next Dawn.]

Hephaestus's sudden acceleration up the steps catches Marduk's attention, and the god narrows his eyes. "You are being rather spry for the Lame Smith, Hephaestus!" he booms out.

Norris /Hephaestus does not respond: of course, Marduk could not possibly know that his mortal self has given him stronger legs. Now, in this body, in this time, he could be a warrior he was not in the past. Mortality has strengthened his body. And the belief and love of his packmates have strengthened his spirit.

Mikal murmurs silently back to the bow, [Very well. Hold the awen in reserve for now; I do not want to miss that shot, so we will fire normal arrows until I am sure.] To Loki/Raphael she sends, [Be careful, dear brother,] and nothing more -- she doesn't want to distract him at a critical moment.

Lilith is no more a fighter than Jareth is and she knows to stay out of the way of her more martial companions.

Inanna nocks an arrow and draws it easily back to her ear as she watches and waits. Marduk will not be surprised by either her or Hephaestus, but she can at least make him have to decide who he will turn his back to. She pauses and times herself so she fires her arrow just as Hephaestus bursts over the edge and attacks.

As Lilith hovers over the ziggurat, there is a peal of thunder and she remembers. She has a weapon that would be extraordinarily useful in just this situation. The vajra. Drawing it, she takes aim at the godling atop the temple and fires.

Inanna smiles as she sees the owl-woman of wisdom bravely joining in the fray, and looses her arrow with Lilith's attack.

The lighting bolt that crackles out of Jareth's vraja seems to trigger something in the stormclouds that have gathered above the E-temen-an-ki. The bolt lances towards Marduk in following a jagged course just as a larger bolt likewise lances down from the clouds, as if attracted to the vraja's bolt. The larger bolt strikes Marduk full on, making the god roar in pain and anger as he takes a staggered step back.

As the lightning crackles down, something sparks in Lilith's long-buried psyche and she screams down at Marduk, "I did not spend years with the Lord of Heaven to not learn how to speak with the heavens!"

Marduk takes the arrow in a vulnerable area, the hard thunk of the shaft into his body eliciting a even harsher cry of pain from the storm god. He goes to one knee, glowering.

Mikal smiles coldly as the arrow thunks home, and whispers very softly, "Blessings on my bow and my siblings in this hour of need."

The smith-god was unaware of Inanna's tactic...he is merely charging the warrior-face of El-Amon-Re. But even he cannot miss the clap of power as Lilith's lightning strikes home...and then, as his foot hits the peak of the ziggurat, he looks down at the face of his enemy, brought to one knee by Inanna's shot, and unleashes his fury.

Even as the heavy mace swings up, Loki leaps forward with a roar, to slash fiercely down with claws and jagged fangs, attempting to hamstring the already staggered deity.

Norris's blow most certainly breaks bones; it also flings Marduk's body back as the bull-headed maul bugles its triumphant mauling. With a cry, the ruddy-skinned gods tumbles back across the platform of the E-temen-an-ki to land limply almost in the center of it, still.

The big raptor wolf is snarling viciously as he savages the limp body, his fury at the past millennia finally finding a safe avenue of expression.

Norris stands firm as Loki charges past him towards the fallen 'God-King', breathing so hot that steam comes from his mouth, lava boiling in his blood. And now, only now, does he let out a battle cry. "I am my mother's son! And she strikes back from my heart, foul thing!" Hephaestus's voice booms.

It is quiet after that, the only sound being Raphael's growing and ripping in the still, bleeding form of Marduk.

Hephaestus blinks, then, amazed, relaxing an iota. Is that really it? Was this face of the Architect so weak that a single coordinated attack brought him low? He looks to the sky quizzically at Inanna and Lilith.

The storm clouds are not dispersing, however. And if anything, they have thickened. Even from here, the lower peaks of Mount Zion have become cloaked in heavy, threatening grey cotton.

With a gusty swirl of wind and wings, Ishtar lands lightly and paces over to the limp, bleeding body. She tilts her head curiously, watching as Loki, like a lion, crouches over Marduk's body and efficiently removes the throat and entrails, and murmurs, "So... what happens to the body? Does it simply vanish, being only a shadow of El-Amon-Re?"

The smith can see the clouds gather heavier, and he looks to where Raph is with the fallen god, taking a step towards the raptor wolf and his prey, suddenly worried that Marduk is shamming.

As the wind rises, tugging insistently at her hair and wings, Ishtar's attention is drawn upwards. She frowns thoughtfully, then raises her arms and concentrates, murmuring, "Storm diffuse! I, the Lady of Thunder, so command you!"

But it does not disperse. In fact, in answer to Ishtar's call, a titanic peal of thunder erupts from what must be the peak of Mount Zion.

Lilith comes slowly to ground. There are tears streaking her face.

Inanna sighs, turning towards her friends. "Well, this is getting tedious. Shall we depart?" She blinks in sudden worry, crossing to wrap her arms about Lilith, "What is wrong?"

The echoing report of the peal of thunder is only just fading when there does seem to be some light in answer to Ishtar's call, the clouds above the E-temen-an-ki starting to part and open, illuminating the head of the temple.

Norris walks over, hand on Lilith's back, his face solemn. "Attacking the Architect, even in this borrowed face, was likely not easy for her."

Lilith wraps her arms around Inanna, burying her face against the other goddess' neck and whispering, "I loved him once. And he me."

Inanna ignores the storm, just as it has been consistently ignoring her, and simply holds her young friend close. She gently strokes the streaming hair and soft feathers, murmuring quiet comfort. Betrayal makes the heart feel shattered, she knows.

The light increases as the clouds part, suffusing the top of the E-temen-an-ki with golden luminescence.

Inanna looks up in some surprise at the increase in light -- then she smiles, her face lighting with quiet happiness. Gently she turns the grieving Lilith towards the light, "Look, sweet girl, Morning Star: it's the dawn of a new era."

Hephaestus notices the storm dissapating, even focuses as he is on the sorrow of his packmate. Now, with the danger immediately passed, blonde gives way to black, and beard dissapears, and it's just plain, solid Norris again, the earth-god disspearing back into that mortal shell, satisfied. "Reclaim your temple, Lady of Heaven." he urges, looking at the light.

Inanna smiles warmly at Hephaestus/Norris, waving a hand towards the temple top's edge, "Call back our people, please."

She continues to hold Lilith, though, letting the goddess grieve the pain of millennia at her own speed.

And then the muffled flapping of wings can be heard overhead.

Lilith raises her head, tears still staining her cheeks. She gulps in breath and turns her face to the light, breath catching. The angels.

Inanna looks up thoughtfully, wondering if the sacred, lion-headed Anzu bird has finally returned as well.

Norris was about to do just that...and then he hears the flapping, and turns to see, his fists clenching.

It is a single six-winged figure that descends from the broken sky -- curiously unarmed, but larger than even Janiel and Moroniel. It is of stature slightly less than that of Uriel, but it is not that one. Its skin is as marble or porcelain, with hair of beaten copper; its tabard, the edges slightly tattered, is pure white with a scarlet cross upon its chest and a gold coronet upon its brow. It appears to be descending towards the E-temen-an-ki.

Loki disappears over the edge, already plotting how to slink around behind the big angel. Inanna steps so she's standing slightly in front of Lilith, her glowing wings spreading out protectively behind her. One hand holds Papaios and she has an arrow in the other, although she does not nock it... yet. Her calm voice echoes with her power, "Who are you, and what do you here in our city? Declare yourself friend or foe, angel."

The angel pauses about an arrow's flight away. "I will not lie;" he says, his voice calming and gentle if very stern. "We are enemies, but I come to parley, not to fight. You have my word; I shall not draw weapon lest I be attacked."

Norris stiffens...and immediately, Hephaestus comes back to the fore, the bulky young man once more becoming the scarred smith. The old god sheathing the mortal in his protective presence, faced with an archangel. Also, it does not hurt to give the angel no hint as to his mortal form.

Inanna is silent for a long moment, studying the huge Seraph. Finally she says slowly, "If you come in peace, we welcome you. If you mean harm, depart this city; it is not yours and does not deserve your enmity." She lays her arrow across Papaios and then waves her hand, indicating the angel may land if it wishes.

Hephaestus grudgingly puts his two-handed mace back in its baldric as he moves to support the pack.

The angel nods soberly, and flits slowly downward in great, ponderous flaps of its six wings. This close it is easier to pick out his details. A golden nimbus of light illumines his head, and it appears that white rose petals adorn his tabard. A bag is hung at his waist, within which can be seen loaves of bread. The angel lands upon the edge of the E-temen-an-ki, not lightly but he does not stumble. His pale blue eyes go to the ravaged body of Marduk. "Just so," he murmurs, then looks back to the three, and inclines his head in dutiful greeting. "I am Barachiel. To me was given the task to come hither and see why the body and blood of the Architect was laid low. Do my eyes lie, or do I see before me three divinities who have not been seen since the start of the ancient Godswar?"

Mikal smiles faintly and does not answer the information-seeking question. Instead she asks, "You wished to parlay. For what, please?"

Lilith straightens herself, folding her wings carefully. She tips her head to one side and examines the seraph, trying to place it. "Just because you have not seen us does not mean we have been invisible."

Barachiel looks to Mikal -- his expression remains mild and guarded. "To see if there is a warning or message that should be delivered by the death of this one." He gestures to the body of Marduk. "It has been a long time since even the aspect of a god was killed." he glances to Lilith, arching a brow.

Hephaestus folds his arms, inscrutable. "The body of your lord's avatar would seem to answer that question...unless even one of his faces is so weak that mere mortals can bring him low." he says evenly.

Barachiel says to Hephaestus. "You stand on the E-temen-an-ki, Marduk's body still warm, weapons in your hands, and you say that mortals killed him?"

Lilith says, "Because they did. We, here, are not yet who you remember."

Hephaestus smiles. It's not a nice smile. "Only postulating that if we are not gods, then the Architect must really have egg on his face right now. Like a mountain lion brought low by a simple mouse."

Inanna considers for a moment, her storm-gray eyes distant. Finally she looks at Barachiel and says gently, "Barachiel, is your lord returned? Is he still a jealous god, or has he matured? If the former, you may take this as a warning: he may not trample the people underfoot with impunity any more. If the latter, then we welcome him and will share the people with him for their well-being and health."

"Foremost in his mind, should this be the case, is aiding us in stopping the spider-wasps. They threaten us all."

Barachiel levels his gaze -- still neutral and unwavering -- on Hephaestus. Then he simply looks away to turn to Lilith. "Be that as it may, I find some part of you familiar... but I came under oath, and will not attempt to force the issue." He looks to Inanna. "I admit to surprise at the magnaminity of your offer," he says, apparently without irony. "It is not what I would have expected. However, you may be assured that the Architect is, indeed, aware of the Aqal and is devising a means to counter them."

Inanna raises an eyebrow, "Did you think mercy and generosity were characteristics of only your liege lord? He learned them from my family. His Abraham was a native of one of my cities." She thinks, but does not add, that it's about time El-Amon-Re started showing some mercy and generosity as well.

Barachiel says, "I meant merely that it was an unexpected offer to hear from one who had just killed a god."

Hephaestus tries not to look smug that Barachiel could offer no good answer to his subtle jibe. He works really hard at that, though, not wanting to undercut Inanna's diplomacy.

Inanna laughs, her voice like rippling water, then smiles at Barachiel as she says to her Packmembers, "Tell the angel how... magnanimously we were greeted by this entity here." The smile does not reach her eyes.

Lilith says, "Marduk has never, ever been the kindest of gods. And he would have killed us. Just as the rest of our kin have been killed."

Hephaestus's eyes are like flint. "More importantly, this war started long ago, and we did not strike the first blow. This is merely the latest skirmish...and your Lord has a lot of deaths to answer for."

Barachiel looks to Lilith as she speaks, listening. "'Tis not my place to speak upon the mien of gods," he says simply. "Least of all an aspect of my Lord my God. Then he tilts his head a little, still looking at Lilith. Then he looks again to Inanna, then Hephaestus. "Now I am certain I have seen you before," he says carefully. "All three of you. I cannot place the names, but I know I have seen you in the years before the Godswar. But who...?" He looks to Hephaestus. "Then tell me which message I should be bringing back, O God," he says, again without irony. "The offer of coexistence and magnanimity from the divine queen? or your message of retribution?"

Inanna smiles a bit sadly as she looks at Hephaestus, remaining silent. He must work through his personal demons; she will not try to push him.

Hephaestus burns. He wants...he wants vengeance. In his mind's eye, he sees Athena standing over his fallen wife, herself brought low by an unending assault of angels. Finally his lips part, and he speaks. "She speaks for us all, emissary. If this conflict can be brought to an end, with a proper redress of grievances, and working towards a better future, then I welcome it. But we refuse to be stepped on, and will meet force with force."

Inanna smiles and gently takes Hephaestus' hand. Her voice is soft, "Well done, little brother."

Barachiel only inclines his head to Hephaestus, then looks to Lilith. "You speak true, in that Marduk was never the most... kind... of the myriad aspects the Architect has had throughout the aeons. It would not surprise me to hear that he struck first. Marduk's jealousy was in many ways legend -- almost the equal of that of Zeus.' He takes in a breath. "So. If I may ask, what are your intentions for the E-temen-an-ki?

The smith takes that hand...something in him wants to weep, at that simple approval, at what it took to set aside his pain and anger for even this moment. But he will not show his vulnerability in front of this creature of the Architect's. That is for later.

Inanna smiles calmly at Barachiel, "What does it matter? This city is not your liege lord's concern. We will care for our own."

Barachiel takes that in for a few moments, then inclines his head. "I understand."

Hephaestus is pleased, though, that he does not raise his hackles at the mention of Zeus. That shadow over him is dispelled now. And if Zeus raises his head again...well, he'll be nore than happy to give him more of the same. Though inside, he smiles at the idea of Inanna taking on Zeus.

She adds thoughtfully, "Barachiel. Are you messenger? Or do you question the constant absence of your liege?"

Barachiel seems to seriously consider the question. "For today, I am a messenger," he says simply. Tnen he adds, "It is not for me to question the comings and goings, the presence or absence of the Lord my God. That, if anything, would be for the archangels and the Metatron to inquire after.

Inanna nods silently, although there is pity in her gaze. She considers for a moment, then asks, "You have our message. Do you wish the body as well?"

Lilith asks, tears still standing in her eyes, "And why the Metatron, Barachiel?" She still holds her weapon in her hand, but it hangs at her side.

Barachiel looks to the body, then shakes his head. "No. It will be less than dust by Dawn, as all such things should be." He looks to Lilith, and his veneer of neutrality cracks a little as he gives a slight frown, and takes a few steps closer to her. "The Metatron... because the Lord our God named him as his voice. What ails you?"

Inanna blinks, then goes still. She's even unwittingly holding her breath at the glorious thought: if anyone could sway an angel's heart, it would be Lilith!

Lilith laughs, voice slightly ragged, "What ails me? I just helped to destroy a god. A god that was one of the faces of the being that I loved once. And that loved me. Even if it needed to be done, it still is not an easy thing." She still stands close by the others.

Barachiel blinks then, and his jaw actually drops. His voice is a whisper. "Lady Lilith?"

Hephaestus gives Lilith some space, so he's not distracting. This will be a telling moment.

Lilith's smile is a bit watery and a whole lot wry. That the angel has given her a title of respect is quite a telling point. Her answer is simple, "Yes."

Inanna smiles quietly, folding her wings tidily back, and gives Lilith space to do her special magic.

Lilith steps forward just a bit, "You know me. And you respect me. I can hear it in your voice, Barachiel of the bread and roses."

Barachiel frowns, his brow furrowing still more. "Yes. I do. I remember you, Lady. And I have missed you." He half-looks at Marduk's body. "You, then.... But... why?"

Lilith looks sadly at the body of Marduk, "He would have slain us. And we cannot allow that. We have come to save all creation. Our creation. The creation that came from the joining of all the gods with the minds of men. The creation that is beautiful and sacred and all-encompassing. The one that requires that you question and that you look for truth and not just orders, Barachiel." She smiles a little crookedly, singing softly, "We go marching, marching, we battle too for men. For they are women's children and we mother them again. Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes. Hearts can starve as well as bodies. Give us bread. But give us roses."

Inanna's eyes well up with tears, and she can feel a lump in her throat; when Lilith sings melancholy, the universe weeps with her.

Hephaestus cannot help himself...moved by Lilith's words, even his eyes tear up, forgetting his earlier stoicism before the angel.

By the time Lilith finishes singing, there are tears in Barachiel's eyes as well, and one has run down his cleanshaven cheek.

Barachiel closes his eyes when Lilith finishes speaking, passing a hand before his face. "It has been.. a very long time since your voice was heard on Mount Zion, Lilith," he says quietly. "Even longer still since you were heard from at all." He looks to Mikal, and the Norris. "And the Queen of Heaven of the Sumerians, Blessed Inanna. And skillful Hephaestus, oft of Mount Olympus." He shakes his head. "I do not know what his means--"

He is broken off by the sound of a distant trumpet pealing like thunder. Once again, the clouds above are splitting open, casting down a golden radience. No angels can be seen as of yet, but the heavy flapping of their wings can be heard.

Hephaestus raises his hand to his forehead. "And things were starting to go well." the golden bearded god mutters. He looks at Barachiel. "Is this going to be a problem?"

Lilith takes several breaths and looks upward, eyes nervous, and then back to Barachiel, "Who follows you?"

Barachiel is looking up, his face stern. "Many angels," he says unhappilly. "Most likely to urge the parlay to a more satisfactory -- for Zion -- conclusion. They would be coming to see if I am making any headway in parlaying with you, or if some sort of demonstration is needed. They cannot enter the Temples' Quarter, though, not without touching ground outside it first."

Lilith says, "And what happens when they touch the ground outside the Temples quarter?"

Barachiel looks to Lilith. "This is Inanna's temple now, Lady Lilith. Marduk was the link between the Sumerian and Babylonian pantheons and the Architect. Without him, this is no longer his temple, and so the Quarter is no longer his. I could enter because you allowed me to parlay; they will not be able to. They must touch ground outside the Quarter first, and can only enter through one of the gates." He looks up again. "However... I cannot imagine they will not try to surround the Quarter. If there are things you must do beyond its walls, you may wish to depart quickly."

Inanna nods thoughtfully, then waves a hand, "Have you aught else you need of us, Barachiel?" She smiles in quiet melancholy, "You have already the message from the Lady Lilith, after all. I think that's the clearest and most poignant one we can send."

The smith-god folds his arms. There are things he might say, but he discards response after response for being too...adversarial. He nods at Inanna's comment...Lilith speaks best. They will not stop their quest for the Names, but if the Architect can see reason, maybe they will never have to use them.

Lilith says, cautiously, "It is possible that they will not know us... if we leave in another way."

Barachiel makes a sound of affirmation to Lilith's question as he looks up at the roiling opening in the sky. "There are eight gates of Babylon," he says. "The Church Guard is at the Adad gate, and are also going to the Ishtar and Sin gates. They do not yet know Marduk is dead. The angels coming, however, do know, and they will blockade the gates. However, it was Marduk who had permitted the Architect's control of the Temples Quarter. Without him, the city is closed to the Architect and his angels. They may attempt to lay siege to it, but they will not be likely to enter anytime soon. They will blockade it, though; the people within will be safe -- no siege will harm the Quarter -- but anyone inside attempting to get out will not be able to, not without the angels noticing."

Mikal murmurs quietly, "I doubt my gate will grant them entry."

Lilith smiles slightly, "I believe that Sin may have something to say about them entering his gate as well."

Mikal nods to the angel, "All right. Thank you for the warning, Barachiel. Blessings on you, angel." She turns to her friends, "We must fly. Lilith, you and I can lift our companion to one of the gates we have not yet awakened." To Loki she murmurs silently, [Meet us at the southernmost gate, please.]

Norris shakes his head. "Very well. If the Architect is well enough to stay his hand for now, then, we will leave and carry out our other plans...but make sure he knows that an assault on this place will be responded to in kind." he says firmly. He takes up his mace, sheathes it, and follows after the goddesses.

Barachiel nods. "May fortune favor you all. Unless you ask otherwise, I will tell them the truth of who killed Marduk." His lips quirk. "It will be a story to shake the foundations of Mount Zion, I imagine."

Inanna says quietly, "You will say what you wish, but we would appreciate it if you were careful to repeat as accurately as possible the message from the Lady Lilith."

She nods to Lilith, taking one of Hephaestus' hands and waiting for the other woman to take the other, so they can fly together. Raphael/Loki is already bounding swiftly through the streets.

Hephaestus did not realize, at first, that the goddesses intended to carry him..but he does not balk in the slightest, taking their hands firmly.

Lilith smiles slightly and steps close to Barachiel, leaning in and, if he lets her, pressing a gentle kiss to the angel's lips. "Peace be on your heart, Barachiel." and then she moves to take Hephaestus' other hand.

BoughGM nods soberly at Inanna, and repeats: "'We go marching, marching, we battle too for men. For they are women's children and we mother them again. Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes. Hearts can starve as well as bodies. Give us bread. But give us roses.'"

Inanna smiles and blows the angel a kiss.

Barachiel smiles and inclines his head to the mortal gods, then begins the long slow walk down the Tower of Babel.

When the threesome land near the southernmost gate they find Raphael panting and waiting there. Inanna takes a moment to tuck away her bow and allow Mikal's normal demeanor to resurface... then she turns to the others, "We, um... should likely go soon, right?"

Norris cracks his neck, feeling comfortable to be himself again. Being the volcano god can be...exhilarating, but exhausting. "Now, most like. We've got kits waiting for us." he rumbles, squeezing Lillith's...Jareth's hand.

It takes a moment for Jareth to emerge from the persona of Lilith and he squeezes Norris' hand back, shrugging into his shirt. "Yes. Like now." he finds that he's glad he waited until they left Barachiel to change back to this face.

Mikal murmurs, "Let's go then," as she steps out of the shadowed area they'd landed in, slipping into the small flow of traffic through the gate with Raphael.

Barachiel looks surprised as Lilith steps closer, but does not flinch from the kiss. Instead at it, he bows his head, gently taking Lilith's hands if even for but a moment. "Than you, Lady," he says softly, before letting go of her hands.

The streets of Babylon are not in a panic; they are filled with concerned people rushing to attend to things, or to go to the mountain-ward walls to see what is going on, but nobody is panicked. It is as the four emerge from the gate that they can hear, louder now, the wings of the legion of angels descending, and see them as well. As Barachiel said, they cannot enter the city directly from above, coming down to surround it. By the time the angels have touched ground outside the gate the mortals have emerged from, the gate is closed, and the mortals are in the congested streets of the city that grew around the Temples Quarter. They are safely outside the Quarter.

Mikal keeps walking at the same pace as everyone else, pulling her hood up over her head and continuing towards Saladin's home.

Norris watches the backs of his pack, trying to be casual and not overly anxious about the angels. He's not eager to get into another fight, now.

The group makes their way around the Temples Quarter to the Scholars Quarter. The Temples Quarter is almost completely surrounded by a magnificent array of angels and more mundane Church Guard. As they pass the Adad gate they hear the spirited argument being waged between a senior angel -- almost as large and powerful as Barachiel -- and a woman on the wall who looks to be clad in the raiment of a priestess of Inanna, flanked by a priest of Anu and a priestss of Ninurta. The argument can basically be boiled down to: "Open up the gate!" "Make us."

Mikal has to cover a giggle at that!

That the angels have been at the gate for this long, apparently with the same conversation going on, and have not yet attempted to siege the Quarter, seems to indicate that Barachiel was indeed correct, and the angels cannot simply charge in.

Jareth's lips seem to have a mind of their own. He should be horrified at this siege, and instead he's grinning at the audacity of the priestesses on the wall.

The group makes their way quickly through the streets of the Scholars' Quarter, to Saladin's villa. Once they arrive, the door being opened for them and closed behind them, they are virtually mobbed by the the three gryphakeets. Saladin comes down the stairs amidst the chirping, warbling and purring.

Mikal laughs and cuddles her little Lazuli, crooning happily to the tiny creature, "Did you miss us then, mmm?" She smiles up at Saladin, adding, "Thank you for your hospitality, honored general!"

Jareth laughs and nuzzles the little kit that has adopted him, scritching under its chin and whispering to it about how glorious it was to fly.

Norris looks down at Ferro, who is no less excited, but looks up at him impatiently, as if demanding to be picked up, rather than scaling mount Norris. He chuckles, and carries the kit up to his shoulder, where it chirps happily and starts grooming his hair, commenting on it as if he hasn't been taking proper care of it, and what have you been up to young man, and why aren't you calling your mother, hmm?

Saladin is smiling at the reunion, though after a few minutes he does ask, "Did all go well? Baal is at the Temple of Hadad?"

Mikal nods cheerfully, "And the angels have been, er... warded from entering the Temple Quarter!"

Jareth smiles wryly, "Oh, that part went well enough. Unfortunately, the Temples Quarter is a bit under siege."

Norris looks up from reuiniting with Ferro. "On the other hand, they're more focused on us, now, than on Baal.

Norris looks at the others. "All we need to do now is get on out of here while things are still in chaos, and keep to the plan. That said, I don't suppose anyone here can think of a way to keep in contact with Saladin, so we can keep track of what's going on here?"

Mikal looks hopefully at the clever old Moorish general.

Saladin nods. "They perhaps suspect that whomever freed Baal is the same as who killed Marduk. The city is already starting to buzz with that news." He considers for a moment. "There are no easy ways to contact me outside of messenger sparrow. It would be best not to attempt to contact me too often as it is. In fact I would not be surprised if the Church Guard come by shortly to see if I had anything to do with it. That they are not here now tells me that they have only the remotest of suspicions. However, I can provide you with some such sparrows who will come hither should you release them, carrying whatever message you may have. I will not, though, have any way of sending a message back to you.

Mikal says quietly, "Best perhaps then to save your sparrows for those who truly need them -- and for us to quickly depart. It is a good bet the docks will be closed soon in an effort to capture us." She looks at her friends, adding, "We should go."

Saladin smiles coolly, "They are already too late, and they know it, but it will not stop them all the same. Such is the way of totalitarians. So long as they can show that they have the power to close the stable doors, it does not matter if the only occupant of said stables is a tired half-blind barn cat."

Norris nods agreeably, but takes a moment to clasp Saladin's hands in his. "Thank you for your assistance, great one. We could not have come as far without it."

Saladin clasps Norris's hand in return. "thank you, for trusting me and for coming to me. It is I who is grateful, for I have seen the dawn of a new world coming in the persons of you four."

Mikal giggles quietly at the barn comment, then smiles and shyly whispers, "Thank you!"

Saladin smiles warmly to Mikal, salaaming to her. "You are very welcome... and always will be here, no matter what the Church Guards may think of with regards to their occupation of this city."

Jareth steps forward and says, "I hope, one day, to have time to listen to your stories." It's the highest compliment he knows how to pay.

Mikal salaams politely back to him, smiling -- then whispers to the others, "We must hurry!" She pulls her hood up again, pats Raphael, and patters towards the door.

Saladin inclines his head to Jareth. "Thank you; I hope someday to tell them! Ah, but many of them are from when I was awake and foolish. I shall try to make for you new stories of newer world!"

The group make their way from Saladin's villa to the airship docks. Theirs is not the only one departing; many are leaving in a panic, rightly thinking that the Church Guard are going to close down the docks and prevent any departures. So the sky is littered with airships departing, and one more -- even one with Uluru markings on the sails -- is unnoticed.

When Dusk comes, the light fading from the sky, Mount Zion is far behind them, wreathed in clouds, Babylon a speck at its base. The mountain is still wreathed in clouds that catch the faint star-light, with the occasional flicker of lightning within the clouds themselves.

Mikal smiles as she leans on the railing and watches it. Her hair flows out past her face, and Lazuli clings securely to the leather pad now sewn securely to the shoulders of her warm tunic.

Norris joins Mikal on deck as Ferro is carried by the smith, pawing that the little leather cap he made for the kit...not exactly protesting it's existence as much as considering it more a new toy than a garment. What does a kit need with clothes? "That was exciting." he comments to Mikal dryly. She turns her head to smile up at her companion, nodding. When she's calm and with the wind in her hair like this, she looks both very young... and very happy. Her voice is soft, "I think we did good."

Jareth has been lounging about the deck of the ship with Mikal and humming to himself, dreamy and content.

The flying master has been working at the charts with the navigator for most of the day, plotting their course. By the time Dusk has passed and night is fully upon the Dreamtime, he has displayed the route. He notes that they will be docking at Neuschwanstein, a few leagues from Yggdrasil. While they could dock at Yggdrasil, he says, the World-Ash has been mostly abandoned since the Godswar; there are a few small communities at the base of it, but none have yet dared to actually scale and settle within the great tree. "Besides," he adds quietly, "it's... a respect thing. Yggdrasil was where the Northern gods dwelt. It doesn't seem right to sail the ship into its branches."

Mikal grins as she glances towards Jareth, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she adds, "And I think Jair's happier now too." She glances over at Raphael, murmuring to him, [It's your home, big brother. Do you want to check it out? I'll back you to do so if you wish.]

Raphael has been leaning over the rail with Mikal, his head turned into the wind and his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a banner. He lets Mikal know that while he would want to see what happened to Asgard, high in the branches of Yggdrasil, they can do that on the way back. In fact, he suggests that they go to Neuschwabenland first, hit Asgard/Yggdrasil coming back, and then upon leaving Yggdrasil go to Mount Olympus.

Norris does look rather curious, himself...Hephaestus has no opinions on visiting the World Tree, but he *is* curious. It makes him think about visiting Olympus, and wonders if he can manage that. Hephaestus has done well, but his own demons and sadness are not completely banished.

Mikal nods in agreement, [Good idea,] then nods to the Flying Master, "Thank you, sir." She adds quietly to her friends, "Raph suggests we check out his home on the way back from our mission. Is that all right with you too?" She grins at Norris, adding, "So when do you want to check out Mount Olympus?"

Norris considers. "What Raph said. Way back. There's no pressing need to go...just a desire to tidy up unfinished business." he rumbles.

Norris looks away. "And perhaps, set old ghosts to rest."

Jareth turns to look dreamily at his packmates, "I think that would be best. I want to see his home, too. It... feels like the more we revisit places we've been, the stronger we become."

Mikal nods relaxedly in agreement, then goes back to staring contentedly over the railing back at Mount Zion. She remembers she really enjoys thunderstorms.

The trip to Neuschwanstein takes several days more. At one point, in the distance, they can see the Winter Palace and it's place in the wall surrounding the Mirror. There has been no sign of Mordred's army, and no news of it from any passing airships either.

Neuschwanstein is nestled in a valley within tall mountains, but dwarfing those mountains is the titanic bulk of Yggsdrasil. It's hard to imagine a tree so large, so mighty, that it makes mountains seem small, but Yggdrasil does so. It is a dark-hued, forboding ash tree, the branches lost in the clouds above and forming its own cloud of leafless, snow-covered branches. The roots are immense tangles that curl and snarl at each other before plunging into the ground; glaciers have broken upon those roots, and vast void spaces give hints as to what might lie below the tree.

But sight of the World-Ash is hidden as the airship descends into the river-valley, with only the heights of the tree visible from there. The airship drifts placidly, several meters above the rippling water as it approaches the docks near the fairy-tale castle nestled in the crook between two mountains. Neuschwanstein is a bustling port, with a great many aelfar -- both bright and dark -- and human-looking aethyrs. The merchant town that has sprung up around the castle is busy, busy, busy, with merchant ships seeking to trade cargoes with other ships.

Norris has taken the time, in the various stops along the way, to furnish his pack with new winter clothes since they changed theirs back after leaving the last really cold place they journeyed to. These will last, and they can be kept without Awen. He's even worked on tiny coats for the kits, just in case. Also, he was mostly just tickled at the idea of kits wearing little hats, fur-lined or not. That said, he did not make anything for Raph. He's not stupid. And likes his hind-parts unbitten.

Mikal has changed her wardrobe also, making sure her clothing is warm and suitable for winter. Raphael's coat has gotten a bit thicker, and his heavy mane lengthened.

The airship docks, and the flying master has his crew take on supplies just in case they need to make another fast departure like they did in Babylon. The town surrounding Neuscwanstein is quite busy; this is apparently one of the trade hubs of this region of the Dreamtime, filled not only with merchants but also with some mortals who appear to be, for wont of a better word, sightseeing.

Mikal is sitting on the deck, studying the directions given to them by Saladin. Raphael is seated next to her, also reading it. The gryphkit is staring intently but probably not getting much from the map.

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Last modified: 2008-Oct-04 19:17:18

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