Bough -- Logs

Jareth's eyes drop to the ground. He is not relishing telling Rowan that it may well be his fault that Raven has not been seen. "We believe she is being pursued by an agent of the architect. The angel of death, Azriel." He takes a deep breath and says, "She offended him in the matter of my disposition, and I think I may have made it somewhat worse by defying him myself."

Rowan frowns a little. "Could you... elaborate somewhat? Azriel is a name I have not heard in a very long time."

Mikal steps forward to gently take Jareth's hand. She looks up at his face as she says softly and earnestly, "Jareth, it's not your fault that Azrael is a doodyhead!"

The goatherd/turned aspiring bard takes a very deep breath and looks up at Rowan. He's starting to speak when Mikal takes his hand and he smiles down at her, surprised into laughter. Jareth takes a moment to kiss Mikal's temple and then turns back to Rowan, "I died. During the attack on the embassy, an assassin of apparently no little skill got the jump on me while I was watching over the prisoners and the injured. Raven was there. We encountered the Architect's minion as we were discussing my fate and my discomfort and reluctance."

Mikal grins with shy pleasure at how successfully she cheered Jareth up, and she blushes at the kiss, ducking her head and staring at her toes while beaming to herself. She keeps holding Jareth's hand, though, if he doesn't seem to mind -- she knows that helps her a lot when she's nervous.

Norris stares at Mikal. His brow knit as he does not quite laugh at the idea of Azriel being a 'doodyhead'.

Jareth smiles somewhat wryly, "He tried to claim me for the Architect because of my... ahh... somewhat less than enthusiastic belief in the god we called The One in Stanton. Raven argued that I died here and therefore didn't have to go with him. Somehow it came out that he could take me, if I agreed. I did not agree."

Jareth bulls on through the story, wanting to make sure he gets through it. His face is tight with once again remembering the beckoning heart-wrenching voices on the other side of the ridge, "As you can see, I'm not dead now. She told me she could only do this once. I don't know if she meant once ever or just once for me, but... she told me we were important. All of us. And she brought me back." He glances toward Mikal, who was the one that had the dream.

Mikal speaks up softly, "I dreamed of her later. She said Azrael was hunting her and she'd have trouble staying hidden, but she was going to continue doing her job regardless, invisibly. She also told me salt stopped angels, so I've made sure we're all well equipped, Seneschal Rowan." She thinks a moment, then adds shyly, "Um, and... well... apparently we're... special or something?"

Mikal adds even more softly, "I, um... don't know why she'd say that last one, though, sorry..."

Jareth smiles down at Mikal, squeezing her hand again, "She told me the same thing. We're apparently important to all this."

Mikal looks faintly relieved at being backed up on something that odd (to her) and tries to resist the urge to hide behind Jareth.

Rowan listens quietly to the stories related to her. Finally she takes in a slow breath. "I see," she says carefully. "This explains why Raven has not been seen in the past few weeks."

Norris looks all apologetic. "We're mighty sorreh bout all that, Miz Seneschal...well, about Raven bein on th' run, an all that. Not about Jareth being alive."

Mikal studies the aelfar carefully, then guesses Rowan is on Raven's side. She whispers a bit nervously, "D-d-do... do you know how to c-c-call Azrael? Could we t-t-trap him?"

Rowan shakes her head. "I don't know of anyone who knows how to summon him, let alone trap him. There might be more information to be found elsewhere, say near Mount Zion where he has been known to be occasionally seen.

Mikal frowns thoughtfully, "Zion... not Meru?"

Rowan nods. "Yes, Zion. Before the Godswar, that was where the Architect ruled from. Even today, that is where his angels have their main redoubt." She tilts her head curiously. "Why do you ask why it's not Mount Meru?"

Norris's brow knits. "Wait, yew really thinkin 'bout takin on an angel o' death?" he protests. "Ah mean...not saying we let this feller run roughshod over alla us, but e'en if we coul summon him, we'd not eggzactly up t'...killin him, er sommat." He looks at Rowan. "Ah's just thinkin' maybe ah could forge protection fer us...some real bright feller figured out how t' forge thunder int' a weapon, ah's hopin mebbe ah coul just do sommat simpler. Forge salt int' armor fer jareth, an us."

Mikal answers readily, her tone slightly absent as she calculates, "Because that's where the rakshasa are and they're still in battle with the angels and it'd be easier to trap him if we had allies, Seneschal."

Mikal smiles a touch grimly at Norris, "Don't want to kill him, Norris. Want him to need to give us his True Name."

Jareth smiles to Norris. And then remembers, "There was something of a disagreement with our other companion. He was supposed to be with me and the captives and left. When I told my story the first time, he seemed... unsettlingly unconcerned and couldn't grasp the difference between near-death and back-from-death. There was an argument and he left."

Rowan considers Norris's words, then says, "Piet would be the best to ask about that, I'm afraid. He is skilled in the forges, and would be able to tell you what is possible and what is not." To Mikal she says, "It is true, the rakshasa's redoubt is on Mount Meru. Most of the fighting between the angels and them is there. I do not know if you would fine Azriel there, however, as his domain is the death of mortals.

Mikal nods a bit sadly, "That's right -- Tomas left. I hope he does all right."

Norris nods thoughtfully in response to Rowan's reply, his brow knitting. But when Mikal shares her idea with the smith, his face screws up into a grimace. "Might wanna find out first iffn th' rakshasa even get along wi' mortals. Just cause they work 'gainst the angels, doan mean they're any better."

Mikal nods to Norris, "I know. Just calculating odds, Norris. Da always said to think of all the options, even the ones you were going to throw away immediately as unfeasible, when trapping. That way you sometimes got a spark of a new idea on how to catch something."

Norris huhs, and then looks at Rowan. "Miz Seneshal, yew know anything 'bout th' Rakshasa? Bail gave us some infermation, but be helpful to know if'n they's on good term wi the folk of the Palace. Or, yannow...homicidal maniacs, annat."

Rowan says, "I know somethig of them. They are a kind of aethyr that does not come down off their mountain much anymore, but in ages past, they were fearsome warriors, proud and fierce. They were dedicated to their gods, however, and had their place in their gods' plans."

Norris head tilts. "But iffn whu they say is true, they're gods is gone. R' at least, Shiva is."

Rowan nods. "And yet they still carry out her last orders: Wage war upon the angels, in an attempt to halt the plans of the Architect."

Mikal nods thoughtfully, her mind racing. "They... they're shapeshifters, aren't they. Shapeshifters... that'd be a real good shape to be able to shift into, too, if I'm remembering right -- they were so fierce the armies always had their groups of rakshasa fight each other because no one else could stop them!" She blinks a bit startledly at Rowan, wishing she got a bit more warning on those info-blurts -- then adds nervously, "I, uh... is that r-right here t-t-too?"

Rowan smiles. "Very much so, though the Rakshasa tend to remain in one shape these days. The terrible tiger-warrior form appeals to them in their war with the angels.

Mikal glances at Raphael, whispering to him, "I'm not sure which would be more effective -- your shape or theirs! They're very spiky!" The big raptor-wolf looks haughtily unimpressed.

Norris says, "How long has it been since yew's talked wi' em, Miz Seneschal? And wuz th' talkin friendly-like?"

Rowan says, "They sent an emissary not long after Mara Sith became Throne of Dreams, to reassure us that their sole concern was tying up the angelic forces.

Mikal brightens, "That's a good sign!" She frowns thoughtfully, then adds to Norris, "If anyone would know how to smelt salt into metal, it'd be them, I'd think?"

Norris huhs, looking at his friends. "That's kinda reassuring, hey? Recent contact, didn' involve no fighting...so ah'd say good chance th' tiger folk won't try t' squash us flat, first thing."

Mikal grins cheerfully at that, then adds thoughtfully, "I wonder if the Tigernmus would like to visit there too."

Norris says, "Well, less they doan need it, Mikal. What with bein powerful folk, annat."

Mikal smiles grimly at Norris, "If they're not using it, that'll tell us they're not good allies. They're overconfident."

Norris considers that. "Well, doan know bout that necessarily. But never th' less, iffn we kin find uot before then, be preferrable. Wan' t' get the pretty boy armored up right soon, iffn we kin."

Jareth has stayed quiet, still holding Mikal's hand. Perhaps he really does need assurance.

Jareth snorts at Norris.

Norris blinks. "Whut?! Ah'm serious, annat. Yew git yourself kilt again, ahm gonna be mighty put out." he replies.

Rowan adds, "They are a fierce and proud people. They have only rarely asked for aid in their work, and never from us."

Mikal smiles quietly, "We can stay here for a little while. We need to find Okori and Tigernmus as well, after all." She looks at Rowan, adding, "Is it all right if we stay here for a bit, Seneschal? Do you have anything we can help you with?'

Rowan shakes her head. "PLease, feel free to rest here for a time. Okori might welcomeyour company as well, you have been away for some time."

Jareth reaches over and pats Norris on the arm, "I know, NOrris. And I thank you."

Mikal grins in spite of herself, "Oh, even better, Seneschal! We found out where there are other fox spirits! She won't be lonely any more now -- isn't that nice?"

Rowan says, "Indeed? Oh, that's good! I'm sure she'll appreciate that!" She adds wryly, "Getting her to leave the Palace to go there, now... that will be a problem!

Jareth snorts laughter again.

Mikal looks surprised, "Why- oh! She still has a bad cold?" Sympathetically she adds, "Poor thing."

"Oh, no. I think she recovered some time ago. No, she likes it here, and probably wouldn't want to leave...

Mikal says, "Oh!" She looks surprised again, then thoughtful, "Hmm... well, maybe she could persuade a nice male fox spirit to come visit or something." She's silent a moment, thinking... then adds curiously, "So if you're not busy, Seneschal, could I ask you to explain to me about Lotus Seed weapons again? They're wielded by mortals, right? So... can we try them out, to see if we're the mortals that should be wielding them?""

Norris huhs. "Izzat th' issues, Mikal? Ah thought, from what th' Bail said, that they didn'a know how t' make em work?"

Mikal smiles at Norris, "Well, if it's mortals that need to wield them, and the aelfar don't know how to make them work, then maybe it's the mortal that should wield the weapon that can figure out how to use them, you know?"

Rowan laughs. "Certainly, I'll try.... They are activated by mortals, and they are extremely powerful. We simply don't know how they are triggered." She pauses. "The thing is, they are, essentially, bombs. We do not know what sets them, or how long it is before they go off once set... and frankly we only know that they are powerful enough to destroy a spider-wasp. Which, well, might take out the entire Palace...."

Jareth mmmms, "Which means that if we wanted to experiment, we'd need to take them out to the Wyld. though we'd be risking ourselvse."

Mikal looks incredulously at Rowan, "Wait. You're telling me these weapons utterly destroy entire areas?! Why on earth would anyone want to use them? That's suicide!"

Jareth says, "Desperate, sweet rabbit."

BoughGM says, "FOr what it's worth, they CAN be set with a timer, but we don't know how to set that timer. Using it without a timer is suicide."

Norris grimaces. "not t' mention, that might be whut it take t' kill sommat like a wasp."

Mikal gives Jareth an indignant glance, "Desperate, nothing! You'd have to be stupid to go out with a bomb you don't know how to use to a monster that would consume you as soon as step on you!" She adds fiercely to the Seneschal, "If this is the best we have to offer against the spider-wasps... we're already dead and might as well just face reality!"

Rowan says gently, "It isn't the best, Mikal. The lotus seeds are but one weapon. Well, one weapon type."

Mikal still looks indignant, "Like what? Seriously, all the research we did says as far as mortals go, the Lotus Seeds are it -- which means I'd really like to know the answer to the obvious question: what the hell are we doing here if that's it?!"

Norris is taken aback by Mikal's vehemence. "Thought we's supposed t' go t' the Wyld t' get better weapons annehway. That th' whole point wuz that the weapons we had wouldn't be any good, annat."

Jareth smiles slightly, "It's possible we're the ones meant to use the seeds." To Rowan, he says, "Is there writing on them..."

Rowan looks at Mikal for a long moment, then lets out a soft sight, nodding. "ALl right. Please, come with me. You should see this...."

Mikal snaps irritably, "What's the point of bringing back more weapons if each of them are a one-shot for the-" She blinks at Rowan's comment, then suddenly realizes she'd been... almost shouting?! She turns bright red and vanishes behind Jareth in mortification.

Jareth pulls Mikal around to his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "Come on, let's see what she wants to show us."

Rowan turns, walking at an easy pace through a doorway in the map room.

Mikal turns her face into Jareth's shirt, squeaking muffledly, "Can't! Too embarrassed!"

Norris looks at Raph as he follows. "Yew aint been feedin' her angry pills, has ya?" he queries quietly.

Raphael snorts and rolls his eyes amusedly.

Jareth murmurs against her ear, "No need for embarassment, sweetling. Come on." He tugs her lightly and grins at Norris, "No. I think she's just frustrated and thinks in a straightforward way."

Mikal shakes her head, then nods, still not looking at anyone else. She'll follow Jareth's lead, earnestly hoping the earth will open up and swallow her whole so she doesn't have to face all the nice people she was yelling at!

Norris tilts his head. "Doan see no reason t' be frustrated. We been doin pretty well. Sure, spider-wasps are makin a meal o stuff, but they's been doin that a whiles. Seem t' me we got time to work things out. All we kin do is try, an take it one step at a time." he replies calmly.

Jareth nods and keeps gently leading Mikal after Rowan.

Mikal blinks and glances up at Jareth startledly... then smiles in shy happiness for a second before she ducks her head again. She walks next to Jareth without needing to be guided after that.

Jareth had ducked his head to say something to the embarassed girl.

Rowan leads them down several flights of stairs, and along dim corridors. Svartalfar and ljosalfar in armor line the walls. As she walks through the halls, Rowan says quietly, "The lotus seeds are not the only weapons we have that are of use against the Aqal. They are the most effective, but you're right -- they're suicide to use, and we do not like doing so. Even one mortal life for one spider-wasp is simply not worth it."

Mikal stops and gapes startledly at the number of warriors lining the hall. She hastily tugs at Jareth's arm to stop him -- then realizes Rowan is walking peacefully between them. The small woman hesitates, then steps carefully into the hallway to follow the Seneschal... although she keeps swiveling her head nervously around, trying to keep an eye on as many as possible.

Jareth is a bit nervous with all the warriors, but makes sure to stay close to Norris and Mikal.

Norris is the least nervous of the three. He'd explain why, but then, he doesn't really understand why the hackles of his friends are raised. That said, he can't really ask them privately. So he just strides confidently with his friends.

Raphael looks perfectly calm as well as he paces along -- at least to those who don't know him. His pack can tell his ears are tilted back and his mane is standing a little aggressively higher than usual.

The warriors do not seem to be reacting to the mortals' presence, since they are with Rowan. They appear to be at ease, alert for an intrusion that is not the mortal group that passes them.

Rowan continues, "I am sure the bail told you of some of the known ways of defeating spider-wasps. They are powerful weapons, all of them, and we keep them down here to keep them -- and us -- safe.

Mikal whispers nervously, "J-just th-the weapon Captain Vidris carries and the accidents that killed too many and the m-mage circles?"

Rowan says, "Those... and one other we discovered.

"The accidents were made by lotus seeds. We were fortunate, in that they didn't destroy too much area, but they were lethal. At the time we had found a dozen or so of the lotus seeds. They all needed mortals to arm and use them, but without the knowledge needed to do so, they were dangerous. A few mortals convinced us to let them try puzzling them out. In most cases, the lotus seeds detonated prematurely. One mortal did manage to figure out how to use them, but he disappeared when going to Uluru to follow up on a rumor of a cache of lotus seeds."

Rowan stops before a door, and pauses. "We keep them here." She pushes open the door, and steps to the side for the group to look in.

Inside, there are dozens if not hundreds of cubbies set into the wall. A dozen of them are filled, with small, obling, black-shelled items that are about the size of a human head, with an irregular surface to them. Hanging in mid-air between two pillars is a large, two-handed claymore sword, with a blade that seems, indeed, to be made from solid lightning. And suspended between two other pillars beside it is a leather-bound book, looking relatively new.

The room is dim, but no oppressively so, with a light filtering down from some source high above.

Mikal steps forward warily, as nervously light-footed as a doe. She whispers, "A-are they... are they all, um... safe?"

Norris is drawn to the sword, seemingly unconcerned if it's safe or not. He doesn't touch it, but he does step close, admiring the weapon with awe.

Rowan says, "Oh, yes, they're all safe. The shells glow red when they are primed. As you can see, they're all inert right now."

Mikal blinks at the sword, "A-and, and is that... the sword, is it Captain, um, Vidgis's?"

Rowan nods. "Yes, the Thunder-Bladed Sword. Captain Vijdis's weapon."

Mikal stays away from that one, instead peering cautiously at the book, "Who's is this?"

"That, Mikal, is the book which holds the spell that the Magi use when they go against the spider-wasps. Like the sword, it can only be used once a year.

Norris looks the living blade up and down. "It's amazin'. Ah mean, I'm not jus sayin that cause ah's a guy and it's all phallic, annat. But ah niiver thought..." As he trails off, he gets that look on his face again. Phallic? He'd never even heard of the word two seconds ago, never mind had a thought of that sort of complexity. "This's startin t' get annoyin." he mutters. "Caint tell iffn mah mine is mah own no mores."

Mikal straightens and boggles at Norris, "Ph-phallic?!" then abruptly slaps both hands over her mouth to try to stifle the nervous giggle!

Rowan laughs softly. "I think Captain Vijdis would take some offense at that!"

Norris clears his throat. "uh...yeah. Annehways." He looks mortified.

Mikal can't help it -- at that she does giggle!

Jareth's lips twitch slightly. He's not familiar with the word, exactly, but gets an idea what it means.

Norris suddenly gets a thought. "Miz Rowan...do yew not want t' engage Mordred's army iffn y' doan have to?" he suddenly asks.

Rowan sighs. "No. If I can avoid it, I would rather we don't. We don't like killing mortals, it feels to me like we kill a piece of ourselves every time we do so. And Mordred has many mortals in his army. But if he wishes a fight, then we will fight him. Regretfully, but we will.

Norris nods. "Then yew got a real problem then, doan' yew. How t' stop Mordred wi'out killin." His eyes stray to the Lotus Seeds. "Wonder iffn Modred knows that."

"He does, but he also knows we will fight him and we will kill him if pressed."

Against the back wall, now visible once people enter the room, is another pair of pillars. And between that is what looks like a pair of curved blades emerging from a broad handle, much like a bow. The inner surface of the curve shimmers with light. It looks to be like a bow... except a bow with arches made from sword-blades.

Mikal peers cautiously at one of the inert black thingies, wondering if it's safe to touch.

Norris nods. "PRolly not best, then, t' try t' run a bluff usin' one o' th' Seeds."

The lotus seed makes no indication that it's even anything other than an inert object.

Jareth tips his head and moves toward the strange sword-bow, eyes thoughtful.

Mikal glances over her shoulder at the seneschal, "Can we touch them, or would that be bad? Er... what turns them on, do you know?"

Rowan says to Mikal, "You can touch them. The chance that you'd activate it wthout knowing is... well, impossible, really. They were made with many failsafes against accidentaly detonation."

Mikal nods and starts to reach out towards the item... then hesitates and considers. Does she really need to touch this thing? She considers... then decides she can live just fine without doing so. She looks around, then wanders over to where Jareth is examining the bow-like thing. She grins at sight of it, "What a great way to eviserate yourself accidentally!"

Jareth chuckles and asks over his shoulder, "Seneschal, what is this, please?"

Rowan says, "That's a weapon that we know little about. We know a mortal can use it, we just don't know what activates it or what the mortal needs to do to use it. The mortal who had it last died before they could tell anyone else. That is the form we found it in, but there were writings suggesting that it can take other forms, too.

Mikal steps back warily, "It killed its last wielder?!"

Jareth purses his lips, "Is it a bow? Or a double-bladed sword?" He's examining it, looking for a string.

"No, the last wielder was killed -- unwittingly, I believe -- by a Mordredite spy who did not seem to know who it was he had killed, only that he wore the livery of the Winter Palace. He chose to have it appear as a bow, but he said it could take other forms as well."

Jareth murmurs to Mikal, "You could wield that, you know."

Mikal says, "Oh." She looks relieved and steps forward again, tilting her head curiously to study the weapon. "You think so, Jarr? But... blades in a bow -- that's just... wrong!" She grins, reaching out a tentative finger to touch the thing as she says in an animal-training sort of voice, "Stop that! Look like a proper bow now!"

Norris blinks, and keenly watches the blade, to see if it obeys.

Jareth looks a little surprise, but also curious. Mikal's had such success before...

The bladed bow remains, quite stubbornly, a bow. But when she touches it, she can tell soemthing's listening. Not unlike the bail, actually.

Mikal blinks, starting backwards and snatching her hand back, "It -- it's listening to me!"

Mikal says, "Er..." she glances around nervously, "or something is...?"

Jareth smiles, "Maybe it reacts better to blandishments." He strokes the bow with the backs of his fingers and murmurs, "You would do your work so much better as a bow." He seems half-amused and half simply curious.

Rowan says, "It is, yes, actually...."

Mikal gives Rowan a startled look, "Really?!" then looks back at the bow in shock, "Like... like the bail?"

Norris stiffles a laugh as Jareth tries to cajole a bow.

Rowan nods, "Exactly like the bail, actually. But older and more... singular of purpose."

Mikal huhs in quiet fascination, tilting her head to watch closely, wondering if it will listen to Jareth.

Mikal grins, "Maybe Jarr should carry it!"

The blades seem to waver a little, as if they were almost, nearly, considering to withdraw... then it decides, apparently, no, it likes how it looks for the time being.

Mikal says, "So... how do you use it, Seneschal?"

Mikal says, "or rather, what else do you know about it?"

Jareth blinks at that, surprised that it even reacted, "It's listening?" Turning back to the weapon, he asks, "Can it speak like the bail? Does it require some sort of... sacrifice or offering?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. We know it can kill a spider-wasp, and that it can be used as a normal weapon -- the mortal would go hunting with it, and it didn't seem to make the landscape explode in his wake."

Norris hmms. "Maybe y' just need t' finesse it a little. Get out a whetstone, compliment it some more, give it a new bowstring." He seems to be utterly serious.

Jareth is vaguely remembering tales of such weapons, brushing his thumb carefully along a blade edge as if considering blooding it.

Mikal winces, reaching reflexively for Jareth's arm, "Careful!"

Jareth grins at Mikal, "I just want to test something. I promise not to do anything utterly stupid."

Mikal gives Jareth an incredulous look, "You want to get blood on a dangerous ancient artifact?!"

Norris looks at Rowen, to see what she thinks about this.

Mikal sighs and lets go of Jareth's arm, looking faintly worried. She opens her mouth to say something... then sighs again and just shuts up.

Jareth gently presses the ball of his thumb against a blade point, murmuring, "Please don't take offense at this..."

Rowan considers. "Blood is a powerful thing, Jareth. Whole schools of magic have been created around the power blood has. I would not prevent you from doing this, but I would recommend caution...."

Mikal looks away, wincing slightly again.

As he presses his thumb to the blade, piercing it, he feels the weapon accepting the blood... and welcoming more, and more, and more of it. Jareth pulls his hand away before it takes more than a few drops from him, however. The blood seems to run along the very edge of the blade, and the light along the inside of the curve turns a harsh crimson. But when he pulls his hand away, the light fades to a slight pink tone, and the blood along the blade disappears.

Mikal is peeking sideways despite herself. A bit worriedly she murmurs, "Well, we did say we wanted a killer weapon... I just wish it wasn't Jareth who'd gotten it..."

Jareth whistles through his teeth, "It's hungry." He chuckles and shakes his head, "I just had this thought of warriors who never unsheathed their weapons without blooding the blade." He pops his thumb into his mouth and murmurs, "I think I'd be a lot more comfortable if it really were a bow. And in Mikal's hands. I certainly wouldn't have a clue."

Norris blanches. A blood drinking blade. "yeah, that's creepy." he says to no one.

Mikal murmurs a touch unhappily, "Those were bad blades, according to the myths."

Jareth shakes his head, brows drawn together, "No. They had a little notch and the weilder would prick himself with it if he had to draw the blade outside battle..."

Mikal gives Jareth a faintly exasperated look, "Well, in the first place you fed it -- so it's likely yours now. In the second place, that sure sounds like a bad blade to me!"

Mikal glances around and shivers slightly, wrapping her arms around herself, "Do all these things need to eat their owners to be used?"

Rowan says, "Well, considering that the mortal who wielded it wasn't chronically anemic, nor did he have contless pinpricks on his fingers, it's possible that it needs blood to bond only once.

Jareth shakes his head and says, "No, it's not mine." He shrugs and looks at Mikal with a crooked smile, "It likes me, but it's not mine."

Mikal nods to Rowan, then glances back at Jareth skeptically, "How do you know?"

Rowan says gently to Mikal, "I think it is a symbol, Mikal. Anything of power must demand a price of some sort."

Jareth says, "You said there were writings. "

Norris huhs, looking sideways at Jareth. "Yew kin tell?"

Jareth blinks at Norris' question and says, "Uhm... yeah..." He seems a bit perplexed now that he thinks about it.

Mikal gives Jareth a puzzled glance -- then gets a determined look. If taking the damn thing herself is what it takes to keep her friends from hurting themselves... well, she should at least try. She steps up to the bow, studying it carefully, then cautiously closes her bow hand around the non-bladed grip. She takes a deep breath, then closes her eyes and concentrates, murmuring a quiet mantra for patience to herself. She slowly focuses on the blade, trying to 'feel' for whatever it was that was listening. She wants it to change shape, to be a nice, normal looking bow.

Mikal also wants to know, now she thinks about it, what the bow-thing is looking for in a wielder!

AS she concentrates, Mikal can feel a faint tremor through the bow. Obligingly, the blades shrink back into it; it becomes a simple, metal bow; there is no bowstring still, but the inside surface of the arches does still glow with light.

Norris blinks. Well now.

Mikal frowns as she considers what she's getting from the bow. Apparently it's looking for someone aggressive, or at least assertive -- it wants to be used. She nods once to herself; that, she can do. What else? Hmm... it apparently also wants someone who will form a blood-bond with it, like Jareth did. Beyond that, though, she can't really detect anything she could call 'intelligence' or 'ego.' She carefully checks -- will the bow try to keep drinking her blood, like it did with Jareth?

The bow has tasted Jareth's blood. It likes it. It doesn't have to drink it constantly, just a bit more for the blood-bond.

Mikal considers silently for several heartbeats... then she releases the bow and pulls one of her steel-headed arrows. She carefully pricks her right hand pinkie, squeezing it a bit to keep it from clotting immediately, then takes the bow's grip again as she wipes the blood along the now non-edged metal of the bow's upper arm. A bit disgustedly she mutters under her breath, "Who makes a metal bow?!"

Mikal thinks at the bow, [How's that?]

The bow likes that. It likes it quite a bit, actually. It wants more.

Mikal thinks grimly at the bow, [Hold on now. You said you wanted just a bit more and the bond would be established and that would be fine! What's this 'changing your tune now' thing?] She doesn't know how to communicate with the bow without effectively talking to it, even though she knows it theoretically doesn't have ego or intelligence.

The bow notes that it thought the other one's blood would be given to it. This is a whole new person.

Mikal points out bluntly that it got a lot more of her blood than the previous person gave it. So: bond or no?

Jareth has a hand resting on Mikal's shoulder, a look more of concern than worry on his face.

Mikal gives Jareth a quick, reassuring flash of a faint smile, then scowls at the bow again. Her expression is unwittingly reflecting her attitude towards the bow, and right now she's quite disapproving of it!

To it's credit, the bow doesn't whine, but it does acknowledge that Mikal gave her more blood. Then something odd happens. The bow says, in a clear voice that Jareth and Rowan can hear, "Confirmed: Daughter of Eve. Validation required. Whence do you hail from? Jericho or Enoch-Nod?"

The voice is surprisingly similar to, but distinctly different from, and more authoritarian than, the voice of the bail.

Mikal blinks startledly -- then says heatedly, "I am not a daughter of Eve! If I have to claim ancestry with some weird mythology I don't believe it, I'll be a Daughter of Inanna or of Lilith -- but not Eve!"

Raphael jumps startledly to his feet at the sound of the bow's voice. He looks amused, but still warily worried, at Mikal's reply.

In reply the bow says, almost placatingly, "Mitochonrial Eve. From whence do you hail? Jericho or Enoch-Nod?"

BoughGM says, "EDITOR: Mitochondrial"

Jareth blinks and his hand tightens on her shoulder again, eyes wide.

Mikal hmphs a bit indignantly, but then takes a deep breath, "Um... I honestly don't know, bow. Where are they?"

Mikal adds helpfully, "I'm from Staunton?"

The bow replies, "Jericho or Enoch-Nod? Blood of Abel or Blood of Cain?"

Mikal looks confusedly at Rowan, "Little help here please, Seneschal?"

Rowan blinks. "I'm... sorry, Mikal. I'm not familiar with those terms."

Mikal frowns, thinking, then says to the bow, "Who are-" She cuts off, adding slowly, "wait... I do know who they are." She thinks a bit longer, then says to the bow, "I am not a mythic Daughter of Eve. Why then do you ask me to identify myself with entities from that same mythology? I am... I am blood of Enheduanna, the Sumerian high priestess of Inanna in, um... around 2300 BCE, who was the first poet of record and the inspiration to myriad women artists, poets, writers, and priestesses!" She sounds a bit triumphant on that last bit as she manages to pull something out of memory that she hadn't expected.

The bow replies to Mikal, obstinately, "Jericho or Enoch-Nod?"

Jareth rubs his forehead, muttering about too much wine when listening to stories.

Jareth mutters, "Abel was a herdsman. He dealt with animals..." He's still rubbing his forehead.

Mikal holds up the bow firmly and replies in a strong, almost chanting tone, "I am of a bloodline older than the cringing, murderous followers of the heartless Desert King! I am of the blood of priestesses-warriors and queens, of they who worshipped the Queen of Heaven, who sang to Her:

Queen of all the me, Radiant Light
Life-giving Woman, beloved of An and Urash
Hierodule of An, much bejeweled,
Who loves the life-giving crown, fit for High Priestesshood,
Who grasps in your hand the seven me
My Queen, you who are the Guardian of All the Great me,
You have lifted the ME, have tied the meto Your hands,
Have gathered the me, pressed the meto Your breast

My ancestresses are those to whom Inanna once called,

Come, Ninshubur, once you were Queen of the East;
Now you are the faithful servant of the holy shrine of Uruk.
Water has not touched your hand,
Water has not touched your foot.

My sukkal, my vizier who gives me wise advice,
My warrior who fights by my side,
Save the Boat of Heaven with the holy me -- the laws that hold together heaven and earth!"

Mikal takes a slow breath, then intones softly, "And so she did... and the holy me were preserved for the Lady of Heaven."

Jareth hasn't stepped back from Mikal during all this, his eyes quite wide.

Mikal looks almost entranced, her eyes half closed and her body standing tall and proud.

The bow respond, surprisingly authoritatingly, So you then claim heritage of those who built the great ziggurauts of the Levant, and preached the words of Nimmah and Ishtar from On High? Speak truth, then, that you would seek to raise the asherah pole of Jezebel against the bloody hand of Elijah?"

Mikal pauses, taking a slow breath, then sings softly in a slow, pure chant,

"I am Protennoia, the Thought that dwells in the Light;
She who exists before the All.
I move in every creature.
I am the Invisible One within the All.
I am perception and Knowledge, uttering a Voice by means of Thought.
I am the real Voice."

The bow falls silent at that.

Then it replies, in almost a whipser,

"You of the whirling wings, circling, encompassing energy of God: you quicken the world in your clasp. One wing soars in heaven, one wing sweeps the earth, and the third flies all around us. Praise to Sophia! Let all the earth praise her!"

The bow falls silent again.

Mikal sighs softly, murmuring quietly, "Lady of Wisdom, yes. Bow: bond with me or not. Decide now."

There is silence for a moment, then, "Blood of Seth." There follows a most horrid sound, a high-pitched squeal of irregular sound that is as annoying as it is impossible to ignore.

Mikal gives a half-startled, half-disgusted exclamation, tossing the bow away from her and jerking back.

Despite being tossed away, the bow seems unharmed. After a few seconds of that, the sound disappears, and the bow says, "Quiver engaged. Insufficient awen reserves for Arrow of Krishna."

"Data transferred to unit: bail, marked non-sharable."

Mikal mutters irritably, "Dammit, I am not of any of those nasty patriarchal religions of the Book!"

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

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