| Logs |
2010 April 11
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Bough Logs |
Sixth Movement, Entre'Act
The scholar spreads his hands. "There are very few ways to actually tell the veracity of someone, if they are friend or foe, if they are trustworthy or will betray you. And people change. But there is one way to tell. If you know of someone who can read the hearts of others, who can determine the intentions of the person standing before them, then we will be more than willing to subject ourselves to their scrutiny, just as we would hope that you would give us the same courtesy."
The scholar stands, nodding to the other man wearing robes in the room. This man is slight and slender, with olive skin and black curly hair. "This is Abrahim," the scholar says. "Like you, a mortal. He has this talent for looking into peoples' hearts, and divining their intention. I am fairly certain, however, that you would not -- nor should you! -- accept his word as to our intentions; he is here to verify your intentions.
Jareth looks at Abrahim carefully and with obvious interest. He has not met another mortal with his particular quirk of perception. The bard/goddess says, "We thank you for your openness to such scrutiny. And we have nothing to hide about our intentions."
Norris inclines his head. "Cat speaks for all of us." he agrees in a murmur. He turns his attention to Abrahim, studying the robed figure, curious if he seems like the one that spotted them earlier...
The scholar nods. "And I am Alonso," he says amicably. "Do you know one who can do this thing for you, so that we can mutually trust each other?
Jareth smiles and spreads his hands, "I can do this."
Alonso looks surprised, and Abrahim arches a brow, sitting up straighter. "Indeed!" Alonso says. "Well, that's very convenient! Come, then! You may go first, read any or all of us as you wish." He pulls up a set of chairs, three for the mortals in human form, setting one across from the middle of those and settling into it. The invitation is obvious.
Norris carefully, slowly, unhooks his mace, so it's clear he's only doing so so he can sit, before doing so.
Jareth settles into the middle chair and puts his elbows on his thighs, letting his hands dangle between his knees. He smiles relaxedly, since it is best to be open to what he can see and being tense doesn't help. He smiles and relaxes back into his chair, reaching out toward Mikal for her hand. He also reaches for Norris' hand. "Thank you for your openness."
Norris squeezes Jareth's hand in response.
Mikal frowns thoughtfully as she stands next to Jareth, taking his hand with her right hand. That leaves her bow hand free... and while she gets no hint of wrong intent from these people, she is quite surprised at how... well, how trusting they are.
Unless this is a set-up... in which case she's going to make sure they regret it mightily. Raphael sits so he and she can watch each other's backs, and they both wait silently for Jareth's reading results.
Jareth looks at his packmate, "They bear us no ill will. They simply wish to protect someone for whom they have great respect and love."
Mikal nods silently, relieved to hear that. Fleetingly she wishes they had similar folks following them... her Pack is mighty, but very small, and that makes it vulnerable. "So... can we meet him?"
Jareth smiles to himself, but doesn't mention the sense of approval he gets when they notice Mikal watching over himself and Norris.
Alonso nods, "After we are assured of you, as you have ensured yourselves of us. It should not take long, Abrahim is good at this, though I daresay that he may not be as quick as you were."
Abrahim nods, settling into a chair that faces the four visiting mortals, and taking a deep breath, closing his eyes.
Mikal frowns as she stares at Abrahim, her hand tightening slightly on Jareth's. Logic tells her people that mean well aren't going to harm her pretty Packmate's mind. Emotion makes her want to yank Jareth away and smack the man to startle him out of whatever he's trying to do.
There is no sensation of Abrahim's mind touching theirs. He is indeed a bit slower than Jareth... but his own reaction is a little more startling. After several minutes he takes in a sharp breath, then stands up sharply, eyes snapping open in surprise as the chair he was sitting in tumbles backwards.
The other mujahideen stand up startledly as well, clearly confused. Only one half-reaches for his weapon. "Abrahim!" Alonso says, making the mortal look at him sharply, still looking rather dazed.
Mikal frowns at the one reaching for his weapon, shaking her head once firmly at him.
Jareth is starttled at Abrahim's reaction.
Norris blinks, and then looks at his friends. "I wasn't thinking of anything particularly shocking. Were you?" he says mildly. Yes, it seems like he's trying to defuse the situation.
Mikal gently releases Jareth's hand so she can draw quickly if necessary, "No, but I suspect they've a good idea of what we are now." To Abrahim she adds, "I think calm would be good, yes?"
Jareth sits very straight, eyes flickering around the room. Out of nervousness, he reaches out to feel if there's anything in his Second Sight they should be aware of.
Abrahim holds up a hand, shaking his head as he holds his head with his other hand. "No! Wait, the heart-reader, Cat... he is honest. We've naught to fear." Norris's joke seems to settle things a little bit more, and the mujahideen seem to relax a little. The one Mikal shook her head to, is looking at her, and in response to her shaking of her head, he nods, letting his hand move slowly away from his weapon.
Nothing unusual comes to Jareth's Second Sight.
Abrahim takes a few breaths. "He is true," he says slowly. "I... there is more than that, but I cannot remember... it is already faded like a dream, but...." He looks seriously to Alonso. "We must let Saladin meet them. At once."
And from the top of the stairs, there is a mild, curious, "Who is it that you are now so eager for me to meet?"
At the top of the stairs stands a man in a thigh-length robe and trousers tucked into soft boots. He is clean-shaven, and his black hair, while neat, is gathered at the nape of his neck. He is the same man who was looking out from the tower of this building when they first arrived.
Mikal looks up the stairs at the man... then smiles for the first time since entering the building. "Hello, general."
Norris wonders, curiously, at what Abrahim saw, but that he cannot retain in his mind. He must remember this for the future...that a heart reading by a less kind personage could easily give them away.
Jareth glances up at Saladin, curious as to whether he recognizes the man. He's been expecting to be hit with strange images and emotions since coming to Babylon.
Saladin looks to Mikal and places his hands together, bowing slightly. "As-salamu Alaykum. Peace be unto you, and welcome." He comes down the stairs. "I admit, this is the first time I have heard any of these good folk startled or surprised since they declared themselves my mujahideen."
Mikal courteously returns the salaam, "Peace unto you also, blessed of Allah." She straightens, then adds, "We would talk with you, general, if you please. In private, if we may?"
The mujahideen tense, but Saladin waves a hand a little. "Please; if I am indeed blessed by Allah, then let it not be he who calls himself the Architect who has blessed me; rather let there be a god beyond that one who may have once been Allah of peace and justice, not of jealousy and petulance. By the same token, sister, you need not wear the burqah here. If you do, then let it be of your own creed or tradition or choice. We do not enforce shar'ia law here."
Mikal smiles quietly, pushing back her hood. Although she is tiny, she stands proudly. "You are a generous host to make your guests comfortable. However, I confess I wore the hood merely to shadow my face, not to observe sharia law." She waves a hand, adding, "Shall we find a private room?"
Saladin nods, gesturing up the stairs. "Yes, please do come up. I am curious as to what has brought you here."
Norris follows with the others, eager to hear what this worthy has to say.
Jareth moves to the second-in-line spot out of habit. He's still not nearly as good in a fight as his mate and his friend. And he's self-aware enough not to be prideful about it.
Saladin thanks the mujahideen for their vigilance, and ensures that Abrahim will be all right, before going upstairs with the pack of mortals. He ushers them into his study: It is a warm room, lit mostly by the windows streaming light in. At one end is a great desk and shelves of scrolls; at the other is a window that commands a view of all of Babylon, including the airship docks. Near the window is an arming stand, holding a black and gold jazeraint coat and leggings, and a slightly conical helmet of steel with a horsehair crest. A sheathed shamshir hangs on the wall beside it, along with a horse-bow and quiver. These are the only indicators that the man whose room this is was, indeed, the sultan of Egypt and Syria and the dire foe of Richard Coeur-de-Leon.
"Will you take tea?" he asks, after closing the heavy door and moving to a service set onto a low cabinet. "I fear I've nothing stronger, though there have been some days when I have wished for such myself"
Mikal settles crosslegged on one of the big, overstuffed cushions scattered around the room and smiles, "Yes, please." She rubs Raphael's ears as he settles next to her, and grins hopefully up at Jareth, patting the cushion next to her in invitation.
Jareth settles easily onto the cushions with Mikal, resisting the urge to stretch out with his head in Mikal's lap. He does, however, settle close enough that his thigh is pressed against hers.
Norris is, unsurprisingly, fascinated by Saladin's arms and armor. "These are yours?" he asks, crossing over to where they are hung with care. "They are most fine."
Mikal beams happily at Jareth, leaning slightly against him and relaxing a bit -- she knows they need to have tea before any talk of business, so she can enjoy herself a bit right now.
Jareth wraps an arm around Mikal's shoulder when she leans against him so comfortably.
Saladin nods, as he makes the tea. "I seem to recall you getting off of an airship out of Uluru earlier today. Have you been to Babylon before? Wait; perhaps a better question would be: Have you been in the Dreamtime long?" He looks over to Norris, and smiles. "Yes, they are mine. I wore them in the campaign of Ascalon, against King Baldwin the Leprous."
Norris does not touch, that would be rude, but he does admire the craft, the keenness of the shamshir. "It seems like it has been forever, good general. So much has happened since we came here."
Mikal smiles as she watches Norris admiring the arms and armor. "True. No, we have not been before to Babylon... in these bodies."
Jareth smiles slightly crookedly and says, "I have a connection to Babylon, though it's been long and long since I've been here."
Saladin arches a brow as he passes the tea cups to the . "Indeed? How do you -- ah. You have remembered past lives, then?" He looks again to Norris. "Please, do feel free to take it down and examine it. You seem a craftsman, unless I miss my guess?"
Norris laughs wryly. "Among other things, general. Among...many other things."
Mikal murmurs smoothly, "We were informed you might have information that was useful to us, Salah al-Din... such as where we might find Gan Eden or Enoch Nod."
He looks up at Mikal in surprise, then nods, slowly, as he sits on a cushion as well, setting down the tea kettle and pot. "Yes, I've some information on where they may be found. Why do you wish to go to those places, though?
Mikal smiles dryly, "We do have to ask... what defenses do you have against the angels? We would not wish you harmed due to our presence, nor would we wish to have our plans given to them under duress."
Norris does not interrupt Mikal's questions, but he does respond to Saladin's encouragement, making the closest a coo the big man could make as he appreciates the armor of legacy...and for a moment, he opens himself to it in curiosity of what tale the armor tells.
Saladin gives a slight snort. "I am protected by making myself out to be harmless. I profess no desire to war, instead devoting my days -- ostensibly and visibly -- to philosophy and study. So for the time being, the Architect has no reason to move against me; were he to do so, then he would be seen as attacking a weak and old scholar, and he would be seen as insecure... well, more insecure than he is... and foolish. Moreso, in martyring me, he would drive many numbers of those who inhabit Babylon against him. So... in answer to your question, I am protected against the angels by being more dangerous to them dead than alive.
Norris barks a laugh at the Architect being more insecure 'than he already is'. What a fascinatingly accurate way of depicting the old god.
Mikal sits silently for a long moment, studying the man. Finally she shakes her head once, murmuring quietly, "I think you trust too much in the rationality of the Architect's minions... but that is not my decision." She accepts the cup of tea he hands her, thanking him quietly and taking a polite moment to appreciate the warmth and scent before she adds, "We seek those places because we are searching for the True Name of both Azrael and the Metatron." She does not mention that they are also curious as to whether the Architect has been... effectively monopolized by Metatron.
He says, "Believe me, that is not the only thing I am relying on to keep myself alive; that is only the leading defense I have. I have others, for I am in no rush to die. As charming as she is, I've no wish to meet Raven so soon. I can assure you, however, that I have not made any sort of 'arrangement' or 'deal' with the Architect or his hosts. You may please feel free to use your powers to confirm that I tell the truth in this."
Mikal smiles ruefully, "Since that is not what I said, we do not need to verify it. I said I was worried about our plans getting to the Architect under duress -- as in some angel beat it out of you. However, you did say you had other defenses, so we shall trust you know what you're talking about, and instead enjoy our tea and hope you can tell us of the places for which we search." She grins bleakly as she adds, "If you happen to know any parts of the True Names of either Azrael or Metatron, we'd be quite interested in those as well."
Jareth smiles at mention of Raven, but it's a tight, worried smile.
Saladin makes a thoughtful sound. "You seek two of the most closely-guarded True Names in all the Dreamtime, I see. Gan Eden and Enoch Nod are certainly two places to seek such information -- certainly for Metatron, perhaps not so much for Azriel. He fledged after those places were lost.
He replies, wryly, "Ah, I am understanding you now. Yes, I am protected from that as well. I wish I knew any part of those two True Names. Unfortunately, I do not, therefore I had best direct you to where you wish to go, yes? So. Gan Eden and Enoch-Nod. I know where those places are to be found. Enoch-Nod is far, far below Mount Zion -- it is so far below that it is several leagues into the Nether. The route is, of course, treacherous and protected by sealed barriers.
"Gan Eden used to be here in the Dreamtime, but the Architect cast it far out into the Deep Wyld. But you cannot simply go out into the Deep Wyld in a given direction, put your back to the Mirror and eventually come upon it. You must first go to Jericho, the First City of Mortals.
"Somewhere in the rubble of the walls, there is the foundation stone. This single stone was brought to Jericho from Gan Eden, and is the only thing still immanent of the Garden in the Dreamtime. You must bring a piece of this stone to the surface of Uluru. There... well. I have been told, by the one who told me of this and who has since passed on to the far shores of Hades, that as mortals you will know, instinctively, what is to be done next, once you have brought a stone from Gan Eden to the place where the Dreamtime is at it's most primal.
Mikal nods thoughtfully, "All right. Interesting... so it would appear the way to Enoch-Nod is what Michael was supposed to destroy if Uriel did not return."
Jareth blinks. Jericho he remembers.
Saladin arches a brow. "Indeed? We have heard of Uriel's defeat at Mount Meru, but--" He breaks off, looking from one mortal to the next, then a wide smile appears on his face. "Well. If I am not gravely mistaken, then I am surely blessed this day. It was you who winged that six-winged beast, wasn't it? And sent him scurrying off back here, with his hosts being harried by kachinas and gryphons the whole while!"
Mikal smiles, but says only, "By any chance do you know where Neuschwabenland is, as well?"
Norris does not turn to look, but pipes up, "First time in a long while I bet an Archangel has been demoralized." he says proudly.
Mikal grins affectionately at Norris, then looks inquiringly back at Saladin as she sips her tea.
Saladin's smile freezes, and starts to fade immediately. "Ah. That hellish place." He looks up at the shelf, then pulls down a scroll, spreading it out. It is a rough map of the region of the Dreamtime opposite the Mirror from Yggdrasil, the World-Ash. "Here. Roughly, by days and leagues of travel. It is more than just walking, however. There are certain waypoints which you must visualize and immanentize. It is not enough to 'walk in this direction for two days and seven leagues.' You must, for example...." He points to one leg of the journey on the map, the first one. "...leave Yggdrasil from the root bound to Muspelheim, the World of Ice, for you will be travelling into hellish cold. Walk three days, and on the third Dawn, while facing the Mirror, wait for the green flash, then immediately while it is fresh in your minds turn and continue on until you cannot see your hand before your face at arm's length for the snow....
"The directions are not onerous, but the journey is long, and they must be followed. It is why so many things can be so well-hidden in the Deep Wyld. And why travelling randomly in the Deep Wyld is so dangerous." He rolls the scroll up and offers it. "Here; take it. I have no desire to ever go to Neuschwabenland, and if you can find a use for the benighted place, then you are welcome to these directions. I would only ask that if you decide that this is indeed a place that should be forgotten, that you destroy these directions when you return from the Deep Wyld. But please, tell me: Why would you wish to go there?"
Mikal accepts the scroll, tucking it quickly into her backpack as she says, "Part of Azrael's True Name is there. Thank you for your kindness."
Saladin smiles mirthlessly. "Is it, now? That does not surprise me. Very fitting, actually."
Mikal adds with blunt curiosity, "Why is it regarded with such loathing?"
Saladin lets out a breath. "I shall try to answer. Do you remember much of your waking lives? Of any of your waking lives?"
Mikal says, "Some of them, aye."
Jareth nods and has a moment of sadness as one of those lives has a pang of longing and anxiety about being in Babylon.
Norris says, "More and more, actually, the longer we are here."
He nods. "Neuschwabenland is the echo of the dreams of a Germanic empire that I imagine most Germans would rather forget. Many peoples dream of glory, and many have echoes of those dreams here and there in the Deep Wyld. Some are spectacular, and gorgeous; for few people truly desire a dark legacy in their name. I am not certain, exactly, what happened with Neuschwabenland to make it the twisted place that it is. Perhaps the guilt of those who survived it wished to exorcise it from their communal unconscious. Perhaps so much death wrapped up in its imagery and its very being. Perhaps the thoughts of that regime, the beliefs that waking mortals have of it. Perhaps... something else entirely.
"No matter how it came to be, Neuschwabenland is a place of fear, of death, and of no rebirth. I do not believe the rumors that it is the one place in the Dreamtime where a Throne of Death will not retrieve a fallen mortal -- especially if part of Azrael's True Name is to be found there. But I would be cautious all the same. As with any place in the Deep Wyld, your greatest threats will come from what you bring with you." He touches his head, "In here," then his heart, "and in here."
Mikal frowns thoughtfully, staring into her tea as if it holds the answers to her thoughts... then she looks up at Saladin, "Is this the Dreamtime remains of the Third Reich?"
Norris makes a face...the mention of Nazi Germany brings up those old memories, of a smith working to make Oppenheimer's dream a reality.
Saladin purses his lips as he looks into the tea. "In part, yes," he says. "But those ruins you can find elsewhere, and more conventionally. As I said, there are echoes of what every people wish and hoped for their nation to be, somewhere in the Deep Wyld. But Neuschwabenland holds the echoes of what the crafters of the Third Reich wanted it to be. That is why it is so far and so hard to reach. Instead of the dreams of many, many people, it is the echoes of a dream shared by only a few megalomaniacs." He smiles humorlessly. "Megalomaniacs can dream pretty big."
Mikal nods silently, sipping her tea and leaning against Jareth. She's not looking forward to this journey... she finally muses, "Shall we go first to Enoch-Nod, since the beginning of the path is below this city?"
Norris suddenly has a thought. "Do those places, these dream kingdoms, in the Wyld...do they move around, at all? What I mean is...by entering into is, is there a change that we will happen upon places that resonate with us, or our past lives?"
Saladin looks to Norris consideringly. "It's possible, yes. In fact it's more likely that such a thing will happen, rather than coming upon any specific place that otherwise does not resonate with you." He smiles wryly. "My first foray into the Deep Wyld, I came upon al-Nusayri's nine fortresses. Considering that I did not get along well with the Assassins in my Waking life, this was not a pleasant discovery!"
Mikal grins wryly at that... then shakes her head. She's not sure which life would call up places that resonate with her, but she doesn't doubt there are plenty she'd not care to re-discover.
Saladin nods to Mikal. "The Basilica of St. George holds the entrance to the caverns that lead, eventually, to Enoch Nod.
Mikal brightens at that, "Thank you!" She wonders amusedly if the man often gets people heading that way -- that he could figure out what she wanted without her even asking.
He inclines his head. "You're welcome. I fear I have no map of those caverns, else I would provide it to you."
Mikal smiles and nods, "Quite all right. Thank you for the tea."
Norris says, "Actually, I have one last question.."
Saladin says, "Certainly, brother. What may I answer for you?"
Norris says, "You may not know, but...there was a message we intercepted from Uriel...saying that if he fell in battle, then Michael should travel below Babylon, and open seven seals. Do you know why he would do such a thing? Is it related to Enoch-Nod?" Norris decides not to add that Michael would have to lay siege to Babylon to do this.
Saladin strokes his chin. "Seven seals? The Apocalypse of the Christian St. John speaks of seven seals. But that is the only thing that comes to mind."
Mikal curiously asks, "What do they bind?"
Norris's brow creases. "You know this city so well. Do you really think there is an apocalypse hidden underneath?"
"It's been a long time since I read St. John's Apocalypse. It is a rambling, directionless book, full of both esoteric imagery and hallucinogenic-induced madness, and I don't like reading it because it gives me a headache. If you can hold off your expedition to the Nether for a day or so, though, I will see what he had to say of the seven seals.
Norris looks at Mikal. "We should not tarry here overlong, I suspect...what do you think?"
Mikal considers, then nods and smiles at Norris, "More information is an excellent idea, Bear." She politely adds to Saladin, "Thank you, general."
Saladin smiles, nodding. "Come by tomorrow after Dawn. I will have what I can for you."
Mikal says, "Fantastic."
Saladin serves more tea, adding, "If I may offer some advice to you...? I realize you have had some experience in the Dreamtime. If I may, I would like to offer some suggestions as well.
Jareth acepts the tea, nodding graciously, "We would be glad to hear your suggestions."
Norris merely nods, finally taking a moment away from the armor of history to sip tea and be more sociable.
Saladin smiled quietly. "If this makes sense... try not to think too much as to what you have or do not have on your person. You can create sundries, and you do not need to eat, so do not worry overmuch about that. Likewise do not worry much about distances. You are in the Dreamtime, and you are mortal -- in some ways you exceed even the gods themselves in what you can do. Surely you've by now noticed how... malleable and flexible time is, yes?"
Jareth smiles slightly, holding his teacup in both hands, "I have. And it is somewhat disconcerting when one is not used to it."
Norris studies his cup, for a moment. "You say distance, but you also mention time. Do you suggest that if we do not wish it, that time can no longer be factor in our quest?"
Saladin nods, settling onto his own cushions. "You can use this to your advantage, sometimes. Not reliably, for most mortals, but it's sometimes possible." He purses his lips as he considers Norris's words. "Essentially, yes," he says carefully. "Time is not necessarilly linear in the Dreamtime. As mortals, we bring a sort of linearity to it -- cause and effect, post hoc ergo proctor hoc. But the Dreamtime does not have to act that way. Effects can be their own causes, 'A' can follow 'B' without paradox. Sometimes you can harness this. When you can, take advantage of it. It is very hard to put it completely under your control -- I have heard that the mortal monks of certain monasteries in the farther parts of the Wyld can do this, but not most mortals are like this.
Norris seems clearly fascinated. "We could fix problems is the past, through actions in the future?" he queries, intent.
Jareth's brows draw together slightly and he thinks aloud, Are there any fixed events?"
Saladin says cautiously, "That is hard to say. No event is truly 'fixed' but some are much more deeply rooted in the Dreamtime than others. The Godswar, for example, or rather the state of the Dreamtime after the Godswar. That is so much a part of how the Dreamtime is that it could not be dreamed away or altered. This condition can be changed, but it will take great effort over a long period of time. But it can be done. It is what many of us have been and are working towards. There are other events, which can be 're-done.' The smaller and less significant the event, the easier it is -- though still difficult to do reliably, or to bring about the conditions where it can be done consciously."
Jareth murmurs, "And the more people you have thinking about it..."
Norris loses himself, for a moment...his mind awhirl with possibilities. "What defines the significance of an event? The people involved? or the consequences that result from it?"
Saladin smiles, "Exactly. And not everyone will want the changes you wish." He looks to Norris. "The more people impacted by an event, the more significant it is." He considers. "For example... you are seeking to prevent Azrael from -- no, let me not mince words. You are seeking to destroy Azrael. It is safe to say that if he, instead, manages to destroy Raven, then that will have a grave and significant effect on all the mortals in the Dreamtime. It would be almost as easy to change as the Godswar... which is to say, virtually impossible."
Jareth's mouth tightens and he says, "We will not fail in this. I owe Raven a debt and this will only go a small way toward repaying it."
Saladin nods soberly. "Of that I have no doubt, my young friend." He tilts his head to the side. "What, if I may ask, is the nature of your debt to her? Not many people find themselves indebted to Death and still walk this side of the far shores.
Norris swallows. "And how much of an impact do the deaths of the gods have on the Dreamtime? So many died, some, perhaps, in major events that affected the outcome of the war. But others, perhaps, might have died in..." He struggles to say the next part - it seems unworthy to suggest. "...less momentous circumstances?"
Jareth smiles, though there's the tension of the enormity of his debt around his eyes, "It is because I do still walk this side of the far shores that I owe her a debt. She gave me the information I needed to defy Azrael and keep my spirit out of the hands of the El Amon-Re."
"Well... the relationship of Gods to the Dreamtime itself is complex," Saladin says. "Their passing changed the entire face of the Dreamtime. We all live in the shadow of that. It is not possible to go back and change one event of the whole of the Godswar. I am sorry, my friend, if there is a deity whom you partcularly favored whom you wished to survive that conflagration."
Saladin blinks to Jareth. "Indeed.... Yes, I can see how this would be a great debt to owe her! And I see what the sages have been saying, that something was done, rules were broken, which allowed Azrael to pursue Raven as he does now."
Norris stares, and then ducks his head, so he does not so blatantly show the hope in his eyes dying. "I see." he murmurs perfunctorily.
Jareth nods, looking down into his tea, "It was not giving the information, I think, so much as bringing me back from the far shores." As it does, from time to time, the knowledge that he is partially to blame for Azrael's pursuit feels like a thousand ton weight on the bard's shoulders for a moment. He forces himself to look Saladin in the eye, "And I will save her in my turn."
Saladin nods quietly. "Yes... I can see that you will. Well, then...." He looks to Norris, placing a hand on the man's shoulder as well. "What help I can give -- to you all -- I will give. There are... omens, signs and portents, for those who can see them, that speak of great things happening."
There is a flapping of wings, and a bird -- some kind of desert sparrow, it seems -- alights on the windowsill, chirping.
"Ah," Saladin says, standing, "please excuse me a moment. Word has come from other mujahideen elsewhere in Babylon. Please, do enjoy the tea, this shall not take long.
Norris nods to Saladin, bringing himself back under control. It is not so bad, he tries to reassure himself. Things are no worse than they were a moment before.
Jareth takes the time that Saladin is checking with the messenger wren to peer into his tea and try to bring himself back under control.
Saladin comes back shortly, sitting heavily in the cushions he vacated not long before. He drops a slip of paper on the table; it is littered with arabic numerals. "Well," he says carefully. "Interesting times, indeed. My mujahideen have spotted two men coming down from the slopes of Mount Zion. Only they are not men, they are angels. They came down just outside the walls of the Temples Quarter, and are -- heh. They are attempting to make their way through the Silks Quarter. My lieutenants are doing their best to delay them with all manner of vices. They are strong-willed, but they are faltering. It may not be too hard to guess, however, where they are going."
Jareth sits up stiffly, "The Basilica..."
Norris's fists clench. "Uriel's going to do it anyway, the coward. Unleash destruction, or whatever it is he'll thinks he'll find to turn the tide. We have to stop them."
Jareth sets his tea aside and stands, "It has been an honour and a pleasure, but I think we should try to reach that door before Uriel's hatchet men."
Saladin nods a little. "That does seem to be what they are after. Is there anything I can provide before you go?"
Jareth looks to Norris and Mikal, "My companions would have a better idea."
Norris shakes his head, standing, retrieving his rakshasa mace. "No...time being of importance or not, I doubt we should delay...you have given what we asked of you and more. Now we must act."
Saladin nods, standing. "If you wish, some of my people will guide you to the Basilica. it is easy to find, but the easy routes to it would probably be watched."
Norris's brow knits. "Does it matter? I expect that we'll be noticible soon enough, barring the way to angels."
Mikal has been musing silently for a while, both fascinated and perplexed by Saladin's words on the nature of time. Finally she holds up a finger, murmuring a polite, "Pardon me, but may I ask a question? Were you actually saying, honored Salah al-Din, that time is linear now? From my time as I- er, in Sumer, it was quite clearly cyclical, after all?" With almost lazy calm she also adds, "Why do you say, sir, that we wish to destroy Azrael? I, for one, would be quite fine with simply de-fanging him. I am not that vengeful, that he must die to satisfy me." She rests a gentle hand on Norris's thigh, where he sits next to her; she can understand how he feels. Inanna had a family also.
Saladin says to Mikal, "I would not say time is linear now in the Dreamtime, no. But it is not strictly non-linear or cyclical. We know the Godswar happened sometime in the past, and that the Dreamtime was different before it, than it is now. The presence of mortals in the Dreamtime give some semblance of the passage of days and the cause and effect of events -- you can see it most visibly in the Dawns, and how we use them to keep track of time and days and to measure travel by. But while for mortals time is mostly linear... it need not always be so. You have sometimes experienced a discontinuity, perhaps? A moment when you were somewhere else, or somewhen else? That is how it is -- the most proficient of mortal dreamers can have much greater control, but they are almost all monks in remote, undisturbed monasteries.
"You are correct, too, in that I spoke hastily of your desire to destroy Azrael; it was an unfair assumption. However, I think it safe to say that of all angels, Azrael will not be one to relinquish the power he has been promised by the Architect, and neither will he go gently unto his good night."
Mikal nods thoughtfully, finishing her tea as she listens. She sets the teacup gently down, then salaams to the man, murmuring, "We go then; our thanks to you, honorable general. Inshallah."
Saladin inclines his head, returning the gesture. "Inshallah, sister. And may it not be the Architect who so wills."
Mikal considers as she rises, then adds politely, "We can manifest what we need here, but we can also ill afford to use that energy just now. Might we trouble you for perhaps a guide leading a small donkey to slightly disguise the presence of my half-brother?"
Saladin nods, "Of course. We can provide that for you."
Mikal says, "We could also use closed oil lamps that we can carry underground with us, and if the way is labyrinthine, some means of marking the walls, or a guide."
"I'm afraid there is no guide to the labyrinth beneath Mount Zion, at least none that I know of. Lamps and chalk, however, will not e a problem.
Mikal smiles as she adds, "If your people are willing, the longer it takes the angels to follow us, the better."
Mikal glances thoughtfully at her companions, then nods once. She turns back to Saladin, adding, "May we leave our gryphkits with you? They are very young still, and the underground is not a good place for them -- I would not wish to see them trapped there should we fall. If they are with you and we do not return, however, they can return to their family in Uluru."
Norris nods approvingly...where they are going would not be appropriate for the kits. "The Grand Old Dame would kill us if we died and left them down there."
Saladin smiles wryly, already taking up a thin strip of parchment and pen, to send a message back to his people by wren. "They will delay the angeloi for as long as possible; while angels are not perfect zealots, however, they are still rather single-minded, and there are only so many vices that can be visited upon them. I will ask my people to delay them as long as possible. And yes, please do feel free to do so. This will not be the first time gryphons have roosted in the tower here. We are near the granaries; I imagine the grains-keepers will appreciate the additional help in removing the rats."
Mikal grins at Norris -- then gives him a quick hug. "You're fun, Bear!" She laughs, then gently lifts her small gryphkit out from her hood, where he'd been snoozing. She sets him very carefully down on a cushion so he doesn't wake up, stroking him affectionately once before she steps back.
Mikal nods once to Saladin, her posture already straightening and becoming slightly more martial, "Excellent. Where should we await the guide and burro?"
Lapis gives a tiny little yawn in her sleep, stretching out all four limbs and wings and tail, before curling up again with her tail draped over her beak.
"Down below. I will ask Alfonso to take you. There are few who know the city better than he."
Jareth removes his own small passenger from his shoulder and tucks him in next to Mikal's little Lapis. He kisses both of the kits on the head gently and stands up, smirking a little bit, "Oh, vice is in the mind of the beholder."
Norris looks around. Where is Ferro...
Saladin's armor chirps suspiciously, and there's a moving bulge.
Norris chuckles ruefully, and retrieves Ferro from the armor he had laid down. "Apologies, general. I think my friend here is thinking of taking up the family business." he rumbles, petting the grey before putting him with the others.
Mikal realizes abruptly, as Saladin speaks, that she has a slightly fuzzy recollection of the city outside of the Temple Quarter... but she does have some idea of where to go in the other two quarters -- interesting! She does a quick mental scan of what she recalls, trying to remember if there are any physical delaying possibilities she can suggest to Saladin, in order to assist his people against the angels.
Saladin laughs quietly. "It is well, my friend. I have not had to wear that armor since I put aside my faith in the Architect."
Jareth smiles, "The question is not how many vices, but which ones. Everyone has their own chinks in their armor. Intoxicants are not something I enjoy, so opium would not lure me... but a lovely and intelligent seducteur... that would be my Achilles heel."
Norris makes a point of hanging up the armor, though, doing it proper honor. "Do you think you'll ever wear it again, for a new cause?"
Of the three gryphkits, Ferro is the one that seems to be still awake, and also the one who looks like he's quite eager to explore the room. While Jareth's gryphkit churrrrs softly in his sleep, stretching then mostly inadvertantly, draping a wing over Lapis in his sleep as well, Ferro carefully prowls about in a spiral starting from the cushion he has been set down upon.
Saladin listens interestedly to Mikal's suggestions, surprised that a person who has never been in Babylon before, as they said, would know how to bottleneck people through the bridges of over the Euphrates that joins the Scholars Quarter with the Silks Quarter. He chuckles to Jareth. "There are those, in great numbers, in the Silks Quarter. I would recommend visiting with your friends if... no, when you return."
To Norris, he nods, "When the time is right, yes. For now, while it is armor I am proud of, as befitting a general and sultan... I am not a general now, nor am I a sultan. I suspect that it will be only at a great turning point in the Dreamtime that I will wear it again."
Mikal smiles and courteously salaams the general again, pleased to have been of some assistance to him. She turns to her Pack then, murmuring, "We should hasten. The more swiftly we can quietly get to Enoch-Nod, the sooner we can retrieve the bit of Name there, and depart for Jericho and Gan-Eden."
Norris does not bother to corral Ferro up again..he encourages curiosity, and he's sure that even if the kit does not issue forth the soundest judgement, that Saladin surely will.
Saladin nods. "It is likely that you may encounter the angels on the way back up the labyrinth.
Mikal smiles as she adds, "If we can remove the seals first, and the Architect's name on the door, there will be nothing there for the current two angels to find... and they will not know which way to take, and will have nothing to report to Michael."
Saladin says, "I would be careful with the seals. Removing them may be the same as breaking them.
"And I am not certain that what is behind should be released.
Mikal murmurs amusedly, "If we do not go past them, how are we to reach Enoch-Nod?
Saladin holds up his hands. "While the path to Enoch-Nod is indeed sealed... I believe that Uriel was speaking of a separate set of seals, a single door that is sealed. Unless what he seeks to unleash is in Enoch-Nod. That does not sounds promising in and of itself."
Mikal stares in confusion at Saladin. Finally she simply says, "What?"
Saladin says, "Mm. Beneath Mount Zion is a labyrinth that plunges down to and into the Nether. Enoch-Nod is at the base of that labyrinth. But before the labyrinth enters the nether, is where I believe you will encounter the door with seven seals. I do not know if it will bar your path to Enoch-Nod, or if you will pass it on your way there. But you will see it at some point before you reach Enoch-Nod.
Mikal says, "So... Enoch-Nod is completely inaccessible to the angels? To all non-mortals in the Dreaming?"
Saladin nods. "Yes. Which is why I believe that whatever it is the angels hope to release is not in Enoch-Nod."
Mikal's eyes light up, and she murmurs softly, "What a fantastic redoubt! Totally inaccessible to the enemy!"
Saladin nods, "Yes... or to many allies, as well, unfortunately. But you are entirely correct."
Mikal gets a funny look on her face, turning to Saladin, "When they say seals, what do they mean, please? Is it the classic stamped wax, or something else larger? Could we perhaps... smear some mud gently over the stamped wax to hide it from the angels?"
Norris has an idea, then. "How strong are angels? I mean, could they be stymied by brick or metal walls if they were thick enough?"
Mikal grins excitedly at Norris, "Ooh, there's another thought!"
Saladin purses his lips. "It could mean, unfortunately, any number of things. A seal could be waxen, or made from mortar or plaster and imprinted with a symbol of some kind.
"Angels are perhaps no harder to kill or wound than any other aethyr." He smiles mirthlessly. "Normally their strengths lie in their numbers and their zealotry."
Norris grins boyishly.
Mikal frowns thoughtfully at Saladin's words, then grins at Norris again, "I think you've got the right idea -- a wall! I wonder... could we trap them in a magical wall? Like a summoning circle, but one they walk into on their own?"
Saladin makes a quiet sound. "Without their True Names, it would not hold them forever... but it may hold them long enough. Alternatively.... You have salt?
Jareth smiles, "That we do..."
Mikal nods slowly, "We do... but I'd prefer not to use it up. Apparently it's a limited resource?"
Norris says, "Salt is a good idea, but they could always merely get someone to move it for them. No...I'm wonders if I can craft a wall."
Jareth's brows draw together, "Must the salt be on the ground, or would they be unable to cross if it were embedded in the floor?"
Norris says, "Just one large enough to keep them from getting to the seal."
Saladin nods, "At least around Mount Zion it is, yes. If it was not so integral to trade and food, I daresay the powers-that-be would attempt to have it banned."
Jareth says, "Or hide the sealed door itself. Block the turning..."
Mikal nods to Jareth and Norris, "That, I think, might be the best way to go." She turns to Saladin, adding, "Can the donkey be loaded with equipment for us to try that?"
Saladin frowns, "I'm sorry, what equipment will you need? To try... what exactly?"
Jareth smiles lopsidedly, "It's too bad we can't simply manipulate the stuff of the labyrinth itself."
Mikal says, "To build a wall to hide the turning to the sealed door. I'm thinking willow withes, a bit of rope, water, and some dirt."
Mikal tilts her head thoughtfully at Jareth, "Wouldn't that only last until the next Dawn?" She pauses, then adds slowly, "But... that's all it would need to last, true!"
Saladin considers. "Without knowing how large the door is... Well, we can certainly put that onto the ass, yes. Ah, yes, you are correct."
Norris cracks his knuckles. "It's a good idea to have options. We don't know yet what we'll find."
Mikal grins excitedly at both Norris and Jareth, "Let's do both! Yes, options is a fantastic idea!" She bounces lightly on her toes, then laughs, "Tricking the angels -- again! We're starting to make a habit of this. I hope we're getting good at it!"
Norris smiles. "It's certainly preferable to waylaying them, really."
Mikal nods more gravely, "Absolutely." She turns to Saladin, adding cheerfully, "So! When can we have that by, please? If it is not too much to ask?"
Jareth's eyes twinkle with amusement, "It is something we've all been doing a long time, ma cheries!"
Mikal giggles and hugs Jareth impetuously, then leaves an arm about his waist as she looks back at Saladin.
Jareth slides his arm around Mikal's shoulder and gives her a warm, affectionate squeeze.
Saladin considers, nodding. "It will take some time to get the material you request. Say... early evening. I do not think the angels will make adequate progress through the Silks Quarter in that time, but we shall work as fast as we can.
Mikal nods quickly, then adds, "While we're waiting for that, how can we help delay the angels?"
Jareth nods to Saladin, "I think it might help to pay attention to what tempts them most and use that temptation more strongly."
Norris arches a brow at the idea. "Tempting angels...now that's a fairly fascinating notion."
Jareth's mischievous nature breaks through, "And an interesting challenge."
Mikal giggles!
Saladin considers, then shakes his head. "I do not recommend going near them, for no other reason than you will simply be delayed along with them. However... let me see what my mujahideen say as to their route. It may be advantageous to... disable the bridges closest to the mountain, and force them to come into the Quarter through the one furthest from the Basilica.
BoughGM says, "But blocking three bridges... it would be suspicious."
Jareth hesitates a moment, "You have someone that can read people's hearts... do you also have someone that can... nudge their thoughts?"
Mikal blinks at that! -then gets another funny look on her face. "Um, I... I think I can?"
Saladin arches a brow. "What are you suggesting, then?"
Mikal looks inquiringly at Jareth.
Jareth is still smiling slightly, "That it might help to divert and tempt them if the idea were put into their heads."
Saladin arches a brow. "Interesting.. and daring. Could you elaborate?"
Norris is off in his own head, thoughtful. "It would probably be a bad idea to destroy bridges, too...that would harm the locals, and be awfully suspicious."
Mikal nods to Norris!
Saladin nods, "By blocking them I would not sugggest destrying them, merely blockading them somehow."
Mikal says, "Ah, like... like two carts crashed together and blocking the way, with the accompanying noise, yelling, and crowd gathering. That makes sense."
Jareth actually flushes slightly. For some reason, it feels almost gauche to admit he can do this. He clears his throat again, "If someone were to whisper into their minds the idea that perhaps it would not hurt to sample the pleasures of the Quarter..."
Mikal grins as she adds, "Especially if, as that were occurring, there were a tad bit of interference with their usual supernatural, umm... rigidity to the cause?"
Jareth shrugs and smiles a bit, "Or to suggest that they take a different route, even. Just change one idea. One decision. One turning... Sometimes that's all it takes to turn the tide."
Norris arches a brow at Jareth. "Interesting." he muses, seeming not disturbed exactly...after all, he trusts Jareth.
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