Strawmen and The Red Herring

Descending Earth 3, R.Y. 778

Iron Shatters Oak had agreed to assist Ash in checking that The Geronimo remained water-worthy before pulling down the sail and dropping it into the sea for The Circle with No Name’s most recent mission. Though made for the skies, The Geronimo still made for an impressive naval vessel, and as Oak suspected all along there was nothing to be concerned about. Oak stuck around aboard the ship while the crew made preparations to disembark, visiting with familiar faces and admiring the craftsmanship of the first age flying machine. While performing the rare spring cleaning of the cargo hold they came across a most peculiar and unfamiliar box; one that Ash would later own up to having forgotten about. The chest had been stolen from Aleena’s house during the events of Mission 12 by Zealot and Ash, the Circle had attempted to open it but failed to do so, leading to Ash discarding and eventually forgetting about it on aboard The Geronimo. Oak offered to take a look at it while The Circle with No Name traveled west.

The Chest is magically sealed and locked by an intricate series of physical locks arranged in concentric circles along the top, all of which seem rigged to destroy whatever the chest contains if they are damaged. Oak took it back to his cabin to work on opening it at his own leisure, and throughout a day of working on it had accumulated a bit of help. Some of the help was more engaged in the process than others.

Oak’s cabin hardly resembles a cabin anymore, it had long taken on the personality of it’s owner and turned into a humble, working area just comfortable enough to live in, depending on who you asked. The ceiling had been vaulted allowing adequate space for sparring, though that function was less often used these days. The center of the peaked, thatched roof was open which allowed the smoke from the forge at the center of the room to escape, but not before giving the spacious single room cabin the distinct smell of soot. Most of Oak’s other possessions lined the border of the single circular room and included a modest straw bed and another fireplace that was geared more towards cooking. Between the two heat sources it was always warm in the cabin even during the coldest winters, during the summer it could be unbearable to spend more than a few minutes in the heat. It never seemed to bother him. A keg of ale was near the door and a keg of whiskey near the fireplace. The walls were lined, floor to ceiling in the finest crafted, intricate, unique, clever, and downright outrageous weapons in all of Creation. They ranged materials across all of creation, from bamboo to soul steel; and all varieties from simple bludgeoning staves to essence cannons. All created by Oak’s hand over the last three centuries.

Oak was currently sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace with an old school lock pit set rolled out of it’s worn leather case at one side, his white jade smith-hammer at the other, and the small wooden chest directly between him and the hearth. He tinkered with the outermost lock gently as he pondered the perplexing box.

The One-Eyed Queen of Silk and Lace who had already tried her hand at opening the chest during Mission 12 was the first to join Oak in his attempt to safely crack it. She was sitting close by, at one edge of the hearth facing him and observing his methods for solving the tricky puzzle. Queen’s very nature seemed to be the opposite of Oak, her exquisite, fashionable dress like the beacon of a lighthouse in the soot-filled cabin. Yet she was completely comfortable here, perched on a dusty stone cooking hearth peering at a wooden box nestled into the dirt floor. The two had been silent for some time, their initial theory had gotten them nowhere and neither had gotten far enough along in their second thought to collaborate. She was occasionally sipping from a half full mug of tea as she stared at the box and thought.

Cello had joined the pair sometime during their first combined attempt at opening the chest after spending the night in the bowels of the manse with Samsarra, all she had really wanted to do was sleep, but somehow she ended up here instead. After Oak and Queen had failed the first time, Cello had stepped in and promptly summoned a 1st Circle Demon supposedly with the ability to solve any riddle. After one look at the chest the demon backed away and declared that it would not open the chest, though bound and commanded to do so by Cello it further explained that it was not physically incapable, but mentally incapable of performing the task. Frustrated, Cello banished the demon and promptly lost interest in helping. Since then she had been sprawled out on a thatched reed matt near the door, where airflow was the best as Cello did not appreciate the heat of Oak’s cabin, alternating between almost drifting into a nap and casually flipping through the pages of the only book Oak kept in his cabin. The mighty tome was actually a notebook, bound with the heartstring of a slain behemoth between two great slabs of Ironwood from the far east; inside Oak claimed to have notes and sketches on every weapon he has ever crafted. Even that did not hold her interest as Cello’s characteristic blase attitude was in prime form this afternoon.

Bran had picked up on the familiar, essence pattern of demon summoning when Cello had attempted to open the chest and had joined them shortly after. Once Queen filled him in on the details of the Mission and the chest they were attempting to open, he had decided to stay to see what would come of it. He was currently standing behind Oak, peering over his shoulder to study the enigmatic chest as he nursed a glass of whiskey from Oak’s barrel.

Carp strut confidently through the open door into Oak’s cabin chewing on the last bite of a piece of buffalo jerky, gnawing relentlessly at the tough meat. Not bothering to wait until he was finished chewing Carp broke the silence, "I hear you got a chest full of loot! I'll bet you I crank that son o' bitch before any of you."

Oak didn't turn his head to respond to the grass spider behind him instead holding up one hand as if to pause the scene, "Carp, you know I don't gamble… With you... Anymore..."

"You learn quick for an old fella!" Carp bantered as he crossed the room towards the chest and trio studying it.

"Watch it young blood, I can still crush your skull with one hand." Oak replied, still without looking up from the chest.

"I'd pay to see that." Cello chimed in from across the room.

"I have," said a stone faced Bran. "Worth every penny."

"If you help us get it open we'll let you in on the split Carp." Oak declared.

"I think I know how to start it, " Queen interjected. "The locks are arranged in concentric circles, laid out in such a way to imply starting with the outside. However, if you start at the center and work out while spinning the locks counter clockwise the markings on the lock should align into a Old Realm inscription. The trick is you have to rotate all five at once."

“I concur, and the inscription is undoubtedly the key to breaking the magical seal.” Bran confirmed before adding a last comment. “Additionally, this chest has bathed in the Green Sun of Malfeas. We should proceed with caution.”

Oak nodded and wordlessly continued his work, though for the first time in several hours with some sort of purpose to his attempts. Though the heavy jade hammer might have been his preference to opening the box he had learned patience over the years. Instead he picked up four additional tools from the rolled out lock set, nimbly splitting them between his two massive, hardened hands and went to work on all five circular locks at once. The four Grass Spiders near the hearth gathered closer as they watched Oak work the locks, even with Oak's considerable skill it was a slow moving process. Back at the doorway, Cello lazily used her arm as a pillow and convincingly pretended to doze off.

--FyreFly 23:37, 24 January 2014 (EST)

---

Bran was probably one of the most careful members of the Grass Spiders. Luckily, he was used to his role as the cautious one. When Oak started working, Bran opened a bag of salt and made an unbroken circle around Oak and the table he was working on. After he finished, he pulled out a charcoal pencil and created two more circles written in Old Realm. Happy with his precautions, he stepped back, opened one of his journals, and started writing.

"Bet you we don't need those circles."

Bran looked up at a grinning Carp and responded dryly, "Unfortunately for you, I agree. I just know what happens to people who make that assumption and are wrong."

"Ah, well, in that case, I will bet you that we do need them." Bran just frowned in response, which caused Carp to wonder off. After completing come initial sketches and notes, Bran walked over to where Queen was sitting.

"So, Ash said that they just had this sitting in the cargo hold and forgot about it?"

Queen nodded, not taking her eyes off of Oak working.

"I don't care what anyone says. Those 5 are easily the scariest made members."

Queen smirked. "Just be glad you didn't get assigned to mentor one of them. I like Fay and all, but wow..."

Bran raised an eyebrow at her but made no response. Instead he switched from sketchings and descriptions of the box to working out what the inscription might be.

--Macabreengel 21:21, 26 January 2014 (EST)

---

Carp strode to the keg of ale, picking up a dusty pewter mug on his way there. After a cursory glance to confirm the mug was empty, Carp flipped the tap on the keg and filled his mug with the foamy, amber ale. He then made his way over to the sitting Oak, stopping just behind him and looking down at the wooden chest. He took a loud slurp of beer, placed his mug on the fireplace mantle, and squatted beside Oak.

"So you think you can do it?"

Oak, without turning his head to Carp, asked "Do what?" He didn't bother to hide the amicable, but growing annoyance his tone conveyed.

"Turn all five at once. We gotta turn all five at once."

Oak sighed, finally shooting a glance sideways at the Courier, and replied, "I was also here when we figured that out. And yes, I think I've got it."

"You don't want help?"

"Does this really seem like something two people should do? What are we gonna do, count to 3 and try to twist at the same time?"

"Just offerin'." A conciliatory Carp got back to feet and reclaimed his mug, taking another swill of beer as he watched Oak work.

After Carp stood, Oak muttered under his breath, "Counting to 3 is more planning ahead than you've done in your entire life anyway..."

Carp leaned in slightly and asked, "What?", a question to which Oak replied in turn.

"What?"

Oak's attention returned to his work; Carp watched intently for a bit before striking up a conversation with nobody in particular.

"How come the Circle With No Name keeps bringing back weird chests?"

Bran and Queen shared a silent gaze, with each senior member trying to wait out the other, not necessarily feeling like broaching the subject, particularly with Carp. Just as the silence was becoming awkward, Queen spoke up.

"Because the Fiends keep sending them on jobs relevant to the White Veil Society."

Carp nodded, sipping his beer as he thought for a moment. He replied, "Why is that? We're giving these guys some heavy stuff - jobs with some real fuckin' consequences. Read the newspaper lately? They're calling it the Three Rivers Republic - not officially, yet, but Lookshy and Nexus being strategic allies is going to have ramifications throughout the Scavenger Lands. And, before that, we send these guys to steal a map to the fuckin' Eye of Autochon. That ain't small potatoes! I'd expect we'd put Ruk and Tiamat on that motherfucker and not take any chances. Shit, for all we know, the Eye itself might be gathering dust in the Geronimo's cargo hold."

Carp's monologue elicited a chuckle from all present, even extracting a smirk from the indifferent Cello; everyone could relate to the sheer audacity of the Circle With No Name's not-so-occasional carelessness. Another uncomfortable silence followed the laughter, however. It was Bran who spoke up this time.

"Actually, we don't know. We've discussed this among ourselves. Many of these missions, with direct consequences for the Veil War, are indeed being assigned to the Circle With No Name, despite their relative inexperience. It almost seems as if the Fiends are trying to make the Circle With No Name the Order's public face - or, if not public, at least the face that we show to the White Veil Society. Another hypothesis, perhaps a complementary one, is that the Fiends are trying to avoid... sullying the more senior members of the organization with these arguably less-pure tasks, preferring instead to continue assigning us jobs that are related only to advancing the art assassination."

Queen chimed in as Bran finished his statement, "But we don't know, and so far, we haven't asked. Even without directly participating in missions, most of us agree that we've all experienced too much of the Veil War already. They are the most social circle on the whole, but our circles have people who'd be capable of doing the same if we were assigned those tasks. What Bran says is likely correct - the Fiends probably view participation in these more-worldly matters as a rite of passage for the younger members of the Order, nothing more. There is... " Queen visibly hesitated, but continued after a moment, "... another theory."

Before Queen could continue, however, Oak interjected, "Hey, guys, I think I've got something."

---

Though Oak was listening to the conversation of the room, he was far more focused on the task sitting in front of him. Carp was right about one thing, it was not an easy task to pick five incredibly intricate locks simultaneously, followed by spinning all five at once until they aligned. However, Oak was the man for the job, while his overall larcenous talent was not extraordinary among The Order, his cracking ability was top notch. He still boasted The Order’s record for quickest entrance into The Guild’s main vault in Nexus. A virtual right of passage among the elite Members of The Order, no less than half a dozen current members had cracked the safe, most just for bragging rights and a shot at Oak’s record. Apollo technically accomplished entrance quicker, but entered the vault without actually cracking the lock. The Circle With No Name had confirmed Aleena as a mortal following the events of the mission, it was clear that this chest was beyond mortal craftsmanship.

As he spoke, the five locks aligned with an audible click, connecting like a set of gears and dropping down into the chest so the interlocked mechanism was inset into the wood of the chest. Oak read the inscription aloud in effortless Old Realm, “It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, And empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, Ends life, kills laughter.”

The cabin fell silent after Oak’s baritone reading of the Old Realm inscription put the ongoing conversation on hold. The trio gathered around the hearth looked to Oak and the chest with equal parts anticipation and nervousness. It was an ominous inscription and one could only wonder if it reflected on the contents of the chest, if it did what were they preparing to open? Perhaps Bran’s circles might be needed after all.

Queen broke the silence of the room, she spoke in a hushed tone that reflected the mood of the room, speaking in the commonly spoken language of River Tongue, “Answering the riddle correctly must be the last measure to open the chest. Answering incorrectly will almost certainly trigger the chest to destroy it’s contents.”

Bran spoke next, his tone conveyed the weight of his words without moving into urgency, “No one speak in Old Realm, it will likely interpret it as a response, we should agree on how to respond first.”

Everyone naturally looked over to Carp who was taking a slurping drink of ale and standing nearest to Oak and the chest. Carp was looking down at it until he realized the eyes of the room were on him, he shrugged as he responded to the stares, “Why are you looking at me? Like I’m going to blow it and say the wrong thing!”

Oak eased the tension in the room, “Bran’s right. We’ll come to an agreement and respond…” Oak paused as he looked to Bran and Queen, “Thoughts?”

Bran and Queen were two of the most knowledgeable, well studied members of The Order, not to mention most intelligent. Oak was willing to follow their lead when it came to solving an ancient inscription carved into a box crafted in Malfeas. He sure as hell wasn't following Carp’s lead on this one.

“The Dark” Cello spoke in Old Realm with authority from the back of the room, almost forgotten about as she lazily sprawled near the door.

Bran and Queen turned sharply back to look at Cello, who had just completely ignored their agreement not to answer until they had collectively solved the riddle. Bran’s look of steady disappointment countered by Queen’s look of genuine anger; Oak and Carp for their part were focused on the chest. Oak grasped the large white, jade hammer at his side and Carp squatted down to be at eye level with the chest as it hissed with the sound of escaping, pressurized air. A seam of green light grew at the seams of the opening between lid and base, the hissing sound grew for several seconds before it crescendoed with a POP and sprang open. All four Grass Spiders near enough looked eagerly inside and Cello sat up, suddenly much more engaged.

--FyreFly 12:25, 2 March 2014 (EST)

---

The chest's contents were, at first, completely obscured by a bright green glow. The light dimmed quickly once the chest was fully opened, dissipating as though it were trapped in the chest and longing to escape. The source of the green light quickly became apparent - a glass orb, roughly spherical but clearly imperfect. The glass was highly frosted and the sphere's surface was deformed as though it had been rapidly quenched from a molten state. Along with the orb, there was a half-complete map and a scorched, tattered book having no cover but words scrawled in a bizarre form of Old Realm. It didn't take long for the senior Grass-Spiders to recognize the half-complete map. Carp, never one to over-contemplate and speaking very matter-of-factly, was the first to break the silence.

"Huh. It's like a shittier version of the map we found in the other fucking chest the Circle With No Name dragged back here. Motherfuckers gotta find more creative storage. It's like, it's a fuckin' chest, man. It has a huge fucking lock on it. We're gonna go for it. At least put it under a floorboard or something. Gods damn."

Carp took a loud slurp of beer, and although he'd been quiet for a few drawn out moments, Cello belatedly replied, "Shut up, Carp."

After a few more moments staring at the contents of the chest, Oak spoke next, gingerly picking up the tattered map and staring at it.

"That's definitely what this is. What we had in our hands last time was a complete version of this; the Autochonian told us it was a map to the eye of Autochon."

Carp again spoke frankly.

"So Aleena's trying to find the Eye of Autochon too?"

The One-Eyed Queen of Silk and Lace replied, "Maybe. It might be more appropriate to say that Ophelia, the owner of the Cicada, is trying to find the Eye of Autochon... Aleena seemed to be a mortal retainer or something of the sort. We surrendered the other map to the Autochonian per Nazareth's request, but I had Leviticus make an exact copy before we handed it over. Not that I feel much like asking him for it right now... But that's the map, trust me."

Oak nodded, question aloud as he did so, "What's this other stuff, then?"

Cello strode over the chest and knelt down, caressing the front of the book with no cover. She traced her fingernail along its front page ever so slightly, as though worried it might fall apart at her touch. Satisfied that it maintained at least some degree of structural integrity, she lifted it carefully by its spine and stared at the front cover.

"It's definitely Old Realm, but the dialect is beyond me. It's also pretty clearly written in blood, not that anyone is surprised by that at this point."

Queen peered at the book over Cello's shoulder, really hoping she could avoid another uncomfortable request for Leviticus's help. Fortunately, her knowledge of sorcery and long history of working alongside the Order's master linguist had gifted her with just enough information for the arcane scrawl to ring a bell. Queen remarked, "That's how unlicensed Demonologists in the early Realm used to write! I remember this. It's technically Old Realm, but it was written so that only they could understand the texts. Usually, the folks who lost their license to summon demons were the ones trying to... push the limits of their craft, shall we say."

The clear Grass-Spider analogy elicited a smirk from the room's occupants.

Queen continued, a bit less excitedly, "But we still don't know what this says."

Cello immediately replied, "We may not need to. What we do know is that this probably, by some metric, counts as forbidden knowledge. And forbidden knowledge is important - especially if one is attempting to summon a demon. And you'll recall a few copies of the Broken-Winged Crane have been floating around as of late. Usually one would only need such a thing for something well beyond the usual scope of demon zoology... And if we think about high-circle Demons and forbidden knowledge..."

Queen pursed her lips and nodded gravely. After a moment, she said, "Orabilis, the End of All Wisdom... He could only be summoned during Calibration, which is still half a year away."

Cello nodded and replied, "It does make sense... Orabilis is attracted to people who gain forbidden knowledge. Ophelia may been purposely grooming Aleena as a vessel for Orabilis by giving her this text."

Oak cautiously picked up the glass orb as its origin dawned on him. He spoke fleetingly, as though thinking out loud, and said, "I think Orabilis would be particularly attracted to a mortal who had one of his eyes..."

The Eyes of Orabilis were molten glass orbs, known to patrol Malfeas, the demon city, to seek out those who defied their station and obtained knowledge forbidden to them. Per Cecylene's law, the eyes would destroy any such overzealous, would-be scholars. How Aleena came to possess one was still unknown, but Oak was starting to suspect that the Grass-Spiders might be in over their heads. He set the orb back down, got to his feet and shook his head.

"This is nuts. This is a Third Circle Demon we're talking about, ladies. I don't know about you, but that's a little above my pay grade."

Before Queen or Cello could reply, Bran, who'd been keeping quiet, cleared his throat and stepped forward. He reached into his pouch and tossed a handful of black basalt powder into the air at the same moment that he spoke up.

"I'm afraid we may be working a bit of overtime, then. I hate to be the bearer of bad news..."

The powdered basalt settled slowly through the air, and as it did so, a column of flickering green light occasionally scattered from the black powder, like a column of sunlight through thick fog. The column was emanating directly from the orb and appeared to extend through Oak's open roof into the evening sky.

"... but that orb is giving off a signal."

---

Oak slammed the box shut, and the signal faded from the basalt cloud still floating down to the table.

"Well that should buy us some time," remarked Bran remarked, "but I doubt it through them off our trail. I am sure that whoever was watching for that signal will know where we are with more or less accuracy." Then turning to Cello, he asked, "Do you think a spherically warded room would block the signal or does it move in more than a typical three dimensions?"

Cello furrowed her brow, "Well, I'm sure we could figure it out..."

"I'm not sure now is the time..." Queen butted in, a little impatiently. "I think the Fiends need to be consulted on this, and sooner rather than later."

Nodding, Oak stood up, one hand on the box.

"Forbidden Knowledge..." mumbled Carp.

"What about it?" snapped Queen, getting impatient. In her circle, she was they one least comfortable with dealing with demons and their like, and felt like they were all about to get pushed from the frying pan into the fire.

Carp squared his shoulders to Oak, looked him in the eye, and said, "My proposal is 'Forbidden Knowledge.'"

--Macabreengel 21:23, 17 March 2014 (EDT)

---

Oak had ignored Carp's initial mumbling, but once Carp spoke directly and confidently Oak stopped and looked Carp dead in the eyes in return. Oak's hand did not leave the lid of the closed chest as he spoke, his tone not conveying the same seriousness as his body language. "I never took you for the proposing type, Carp."

The other three occupants of the room continued to watch intently, quietly waiting to see what exactly Carp was doing... Bran, Queen, and Cello were familiar enough with such situations to know that dramatic changes in someones demeanor when dealing with demonic powers was almost never good... Then again they were also familiar enough with Carp to know if anyone would be fucking around in this situation, it would be him. Bran and Queen, exercising their cautious natures took small steps back as they closely observed what happened next. Cello, naturally more rash, actually drew closer to her sworn brother rising up onto her toes so that she would be eye level with the taller Carp. She was on his left, her face almost close enough to kiss him on the cheek, though she deliberately avoided direct physical contact.

"Carp. It normally works better if you actually have what you're offering." Cello whispered with deadpanned seriousness. Whether she was in fact serious or was attempting to mock his comparative lack of knowledge was entirely unclear to everyone in the room.

--FyreFly 11:19, 22 March 2014 (EDT)

---

Carp ignored his circlemate and responded directly to Oak, still dead-pan serious, “Are you saying that you can’t?”

Oak glared back at the challenge, annoyed by the line of questioning as much as the timing of it. Oak shoved the heavy chest forward directly into the diaphragm of Carp, clearly catching the junior Grass Spider off guard and knocking the wind out of him.

“Take this thing to The Manse and find Nazareth, straight there, no detours, or you’ll be the one I kill with forbidden knowledge.”

Oak spoke with obvious frustration and urgency; meanwhile Carp was still trying to catch his breath so the hunched over man’s only response was to wrap his arms around the heavy chest and accept it from Oak. Even in this serious situation Cello found humor in Carp’s pain and giggled to herself.

Meanwhile Bran and Queen gathered themselves to go. Bran carefully took up the ancient demonic tome in both hands and carried it towards the door wordlessly. Queen left her tea on the mantle and gently rolled the incomplete map into a roll in one hand, and with the other snagged Carp by the ear just as he was straightening back up, but before he could get another comment out of his lips. Queen dragged Carp towards the door, following behind Bran like a pair of parents scolding a young child.

“Aww, c'mon man! What the fuck!” Carp eventually exclaimed as he neared the door, though he didn’t fight too hard against Queen’s pull for fear she’d tear his ear clean off his skull. “I was just foolin around!”

The three Grass Spiders exited the cabin, Bran wordless and Queen and Carps muttering growing inaudible, leaving Oak and Cello alone in the spacious, suddenly calm cabin. Oak let out a long sigh of exhaustion rather than frustration; for the first time that Cello could remember Oak looked like a tired old man. The vulnerability was a jarring realization.

“Oak, The Fiends will handle it…” Cello almost sounded compassionate, which would have been unheard of, but she’d grown quite fond of the elder Grass Spider even if she would never admit it.

Oak’s tired sigh turned to a weary smile, “It’s not the Fiends nor that Orb who I’m worried about…”

Oak reached up and tapped the younger girl on the nose, leaving a trail of dark gray soot on her otherwise unmarred skin. “Now get outta here and let an old man have his peace and quiet.”

Cello nodded in silent admission that the conversation was over, and made her way towards the door while Oak moved to the hearth and filled himself a mug of whiskey from the keg and settled cross-legged onto the dirt floor of the cabin facing the smoldering fireplace.

--FyreFly 16:05, 30 November 2014 (EST)