Resurrectionist Meeting The First

It's a beautiful evening and one of Alexandria's many beer halls has been purchased for the first official meeting of the Resurrectionist Society. They've gathered here, Animus pins on their collars, to talk, to share anecdotes and theories.

Griva Brassbringer, the Khazadi who introduced herself previously, is welcoming everyone who wants to enter individually with warmth, smiles, and beer.

Mikilos has, for the record, been dead twice. Well, once for sure, one he just had a very large hole through his chest for a few seconds... his heart might have still been beating, wherever it landed. And so, as a dedicated Resurrectionist, the elf shows up a little early, accepting an offered beer, and finding a spot to loiter and eavesdrop on the more interesting people.

Merek wears what looks like a red and black attire with belts adjusted about it, in addition to a scarf with potions attached along the waist. He makes a way to the meeting to nod to folk, "I would like to speak today, I have information that would be useful. About Taara's Agents seeking the shards."

Aya has not been deceased, and would prefer to maintain that record. She does, however, have a number of concerns regarding this latest batch of religious zealots. She enters, passing on any possible tabs with the hall. Hopefully the zealots do, as well. The only thing worse than a gathering of zealots would be a gathering of inebriated zealots.

Rumbo wanders through the markets this evening with a dragonspitter held casually in one hand and approaches the, seemingly popular, beerhall. The dragonspitter is so casually held that the gobber is using it as a back-scratcher but apparently this is not casual enough and he is directed to holster the (so-called) weapon before he can enter the beerhall itself and find a place he can listen to the speakers while drinking. Really quite a civilized method of religious discussion, drunken carousing.

The pair arrive on the scene, unhurried and unbothered by the damp, chilly weather. One, a copper-scale Sith that glows with reflected light, gestures to the beer hall. "One believes this is the location.", he says. The other, a Sith with mottled black scales, a halo of white feathers, and a colourful huipilli over her robes, bobs her head.

"Shall we wait a moment, or go inside to find Cryosanthia?", Geir wonders, gently reaching out to touch Iuitl's shoulder.

Stirling has broken his reclusiveness in his workshop for this event. While he is missing his striking chrome armor in favor of stiff utilitarian clothes, a mithril right leg, an adamantine right arm from the elbow down and a glaring red lens for a right eye does make him stick out just a bit. In fact it's pretty clear from those limbs and some scars that while he has not died yet, it's not for a lack of people trying. "Well out with it then! he snarls at Mikilos over the din, a sturdy tankard in his hand.

"No, she had asked me to come here, to ask questions, as a shaman," Iuitl says, her hand going up to briefly touch Geir's own, and give it a squeeze. Then she enters the beer hall. As the Khazadi greets her, she mumbles "Peace on your nest," and then she speaks up more clearly, "Who is it among your group that answers important questions? This one has some that need to be asked." Despite the intensity of her words, she has a pleasant enough tone to her voice, soft and inquisitive. Well, besides her raspy lizardwoman voice that's just unpleasant by default.

As is often his way, Seldan has opted for the unassuming look, a simple, pale-blue shirt and dark trousers his choice if clothing, although slightly warmer weight to fend off the chill. His only sign of weaponry is the longsword that is nearly always at his hip, and while he accepts in quiet tones a tankard of ale, he does not seem inclined to drink it quickly, and seems more inclined to listen than to speak.

"Hmm? What?" says Griva, turning to Merek at his words. Then to Iuitl, she raises her hands. "I am about as in charge as one can be, I suppose, but we don't have a formal system. of such things." She smiles towards the Sith.

"Welcome!"

Geir trails in behind Iuitl, letting her take charge, though he nods in response to the welcome from Griva. "Peace on your nest.", he intones. He looks to Iuitl, and then back to Griva. "sso, are you able to answer her inquiries, or is there ssomeone you can direct us to?"

Mikilos smiles to Iuitl, nodding politely in greeting. "I do answer questions, but in this instance I hold no position and am more likely to ask them."

"Then I will ask you," Iuitl says, "First, I am told these 'Animus Shards' are believed to be pieces of Animus himself. Do you have proof of this? Have they been properly identified?" Cutting right to the bone of the matter, her question is complemented by the Raven on her shoulder, who cocks his head to leer at Griva.

"Rrrh," says the Raven.

Merek looks to the people that are about, nodding a bit. "Not a lot of note, there a Lady Tilly that is serving Taara and can bring forth minions from the Planes, to serve. They are looking to people that want the shards, trying to keep them from them, wanting people to use them in ways that won't benefit people."

Stirling walks up beside Seldan and nudges him the arm with his tankard "Figure you would know all about this paladin." he says with a grim tone that almost sounds like he is joking around a little. "Shards of a god, terrible business. Of course any evil folks are going to be after any kind of power like that." he says in commenting on Mikilos' remarks.

"Anyone seeking power would be after such things, whether they truly exist as claimed, or not," Aya adds, to both Merek's words and Stirling's comments. A hand gestures towards the former, "As he said, some already are."

Seldan looks up, and blinks a few times in surprise to see the arvek standing at his elbow. "It has been some time," he greets, a formal sort of hello. "Yes, regardless of what they truly are, or their powers, do the forces of Taara seek such items, it is well to oppose them. I am uncertain how the shaman would determine the truth of them, does she not yet have one to examine. It seems prudent to begin by gathering them, and then learning what we may, does it not?"

Mikilos nods in agreement. "As yet i have not had oppertunity to examine one of these Shards, and so can offer little information about them. I hope to correct that, ideally in the near future."

Serene steps in, but she doesn't step in far. This perhaps marks her intent as one of observation, not participation. Her arms folding over her breastplate and the position she takes just to the side of the entrance only bolster this impression, and after an initial scan of the crowd her gaze comes to rest upon those whose pins she can see.

"Yes," says Griva. She turns to address Iuitl, now, holding up her own beer, her smile only diminished by the words of Merek. A nod. "We've heard such things before. It's one of the reasons we want to prevent them from falling into the wrong hands all together.But, yes. The shards are confirmed to exist. I've seen one with my own eyes, and had reports of others. They take a variety of shapes. We're not sure if that they infuse things that are ... characteristic of Animus, or if they create them. We're unsure as to what determines these things, but a few have been known to pass through this very city."

Rumbo frowns as he holds up the half-drunk tankard he has in his hand, if you don't want to sound like a simpleton when speaking the common Tradespeak you have to practice speaking in Tradespeak he has been told so, speaks up in his harsh Tradespeak: "So... many shapes.. Maybe Rumbo is Shard of very dead God?"

Rumbo puffs out his chest a little and a wide smile appears on his round head.

All the other comments being said are overlooked, except for the one from Seldan, which gets Iuitl to remark, "This is known." She waves off the others, because she has personal concerns. "You have named your group the 'Resurrectionists.' You believe assembling the Shards may revive Animus. Is this simply wishful thinking, or has something indicated this is a possible future?" Her bird turns his head to look at Griva with his other eye. "Would you have it that we mortals try to put together a broken God, like a child assembling a puzzle?" She taps her fingertips together anxiously, looking worried and skeptical.

Rumbo's words draw her attention, jarring her from her grave state of mind. "... Nn." She looks back to Griva, moving on from the odd statement with a more smiley expression.

Geir leans forward slightly, to better hear Griva through the din. His eyes widen at what she says. "How does one know one is looking at the shard of a deceased God? What proof does one have, this one wonders." The copper-scale Sith bangs the butt of his spear upon the floor. "While one may or may not assist in the reclamation of such shards, one is truly interested to know what they are, what they look like... One would rather direct such things to those properly equipped to handle it. One needs to know in order to understand.

He snorts, and turns to glare at Rumbo. "Do not be so foolish, Goblin! You would want all kinds of people attempting to take you? Who may have questionable motives and inclinations? Who would probably sacrifice your LIFE to attain your supposed powers? Think before you speak!"

The fire from Geir gets Iuitl to rest a hand on his arm without looking.

Rumbo's chest deflates a little but he gestures with his tankard to Geir as he calls back, "Meaning that." He says in his harsh tradespeak, "How knowing when looking if many shapes? How knowing not you> Or that fat dwarf's shirt? Maybe it being that chair?" Rumbo gestures around the wider beerhall with his mug, slopping some of the contents out as he asks, "Just saying I seen one not proof any exist at all. Anyone say I knowing Shard because I knowing or believe!"

"Lady Tilly, hm?" says Griva to Merek.

A nod. "I'm not familiar with the name, but I'll press word to the Guard and the other authorities. We can't have insane Taarans thinking they can put people in jeopardy, especially not on our account. We realize the work we do, and the beliefs we have, will be offensive to them. Taara *is* his killer, by the divination and communion, and things of all manner have been ... broken since."

Her steady, grey gaze turns back to Iuitl.

"Of /course/ it's wishful thinking. It's a dream. A goal. A hope. Dare we hope? I say yes, of course we do. But we dare to hope with the knowledge that it might be impossible, and that it might be unachievable, or that if it is too, too much a threat to things beyond our merely mortal ken. We do not go into this *rashly*. That is not what Animus would have taught us. Balance in all things. Be temperate. Be patient. We hope to learn. WE hope to study. We hope to discern the realms of the possible." She holds her hands out towards the Sith.

"Questions are what drive us and a hope for a better tomorrow. Is that not what drives all of us?"

She raises her mug of beer up.

"The Shards must first be protected and prevented from falling into the wrong hands. I understand that some may think that our's would be that and I'd understand that fear -- but are not children playing with a puzzle of broken glass. Caution is warranted in matters divine."

Merek seems content with offering the information, nodding a bit.

Seldan smiles politely at the response, then stands, raising his Myrrish-accented voice to make it heard above the din. "If they are known to exist, perhaps it is well to move upon them swiftly, and save for later the debate of what may be done, what should be done, and what will befall if such a thing is done. I, too, have my questions, and yet do I not question this - that such items of power must be kept from the Tempter and her minions, for is it not she who first slew Animus?"

Stirling emits a rumble that something like laugh-adjacent. "If something were grossly magical, my eye would pick it up." he says to Rumbo as he taps his temple where his artificial eye meets his skull. Though he does look around a bit as if to be sure, not just looking for magic but also looking for anyone who appears living and is not.

Walking through the Market District, with absolutely no idea what's going on, comes one very well polished, crystal and silver golem. Hydraulic pumps and clockwork motors whirr and click softly as she moves, meandering about at an unhurried pace. She pauses to look at this or that; but it seems there's a hubbub over there, which is definitely taking most people's attention. So, the clockwork paladin heads in just that direction; after all, curiosity must be satisfied.

Geir peers at Stirling a moment. "One thinks that such hubris is dangerous. What makes you think that such god sparks would easily and instantly be revealed to you?" He looks to the hand upon his arm then, and gently reaches up to pat it. "You understand what is at stake, Iuitl. But I shall temper the flames.", he says softly to the Feathered Sith.

"Silver Guard.", the copper-scale intones, glancing Seldan's way. "You are known to us. To the Sith. Your battle, with the Ice Queen, and her demon pawn... though perhaps it is the other way around? We shall not know... But you are known to us. You have stood true, in the face of corruption." Geir raises up his spear, and slams the butt of it down upon the floor. "We would see you entrusted with the care of such things. To be turned over, if... when... we determine whom should have them. We would trust you to preserve them, to remain... neutral."

"I ask these questions after a chain of concerns coming from the Silver Empress, who sent an Emissary. I am worried for all that follow this path, because Taara's influence could easily destroy the weak and unwary. But..." Iuitl spreads her once steepled hands, and tells Griva, "You have my support. You seem to know the gravity of this mission, and the lofty heights your goals sit at."

"I ask questions because I believe Animus' return would give Navos a chance to return to friends he has lost touch with. The Forgetful Dragon lost his empathy in becoming what he is now, and the tragedy is still felt even now." Her Raven dips his head, giving an uneasy noise. She reaches up to pet his feathers.

"I will tell you that if a group of your own go to retrieve any of the Shards, merely send word to me and I will assist in its retrieval and protection."

Mikilos listens attentively, having nothing constructive to add at this point.

Stirling grins "It is what I built this eye to do. I would have gotten my original one regenerated instead if I did not believe I could craft a superior replacement when I lost it." he says when asked about his eye. For the rest he merely listens and mostly agrees.

Caught off guard by the copper sith's statement, Seldan blinks a few times, then nods. "You honor me with your words, shaman. If it is the will of all involved that I stand in defense of what is gathered, until the debate be had, then shall I do so, for is Her temple uniquely suited to such matters." He says nothing further, looking around the group as if for opinions.

"I'm not comfortable with these being anywhere near mortal blooded creatures like all of us, so I will keep it at that," Iuitl tells Seldan, not sharing Geir's enthusiasm, but keeping a pleasant affect toward him.

Aya's focus shifts to Seldan at the sith's words and his surprise at them. While his momentary disarray is entertaining, and a corner of her mouth lifts, she also offers, rather bluntly, "Given that Taara's forces are probably the most powerful and powerfully driven of those to intervene... I can think of few others more suited to stand against them than a Silver Guard."

"I mean, did you think that one would come to this city without passing through Eluna's sacred places? There, they could be guarded best -- but they should not *all* rest in the same place. We have made arrangements -- arrangements we do not mind sharing with paladins such as Serene or Seldan, not at all."

Griva leans back in her seat, now, having retaken it. "But this is all putting carts before horses. We don't even have one yet -- but we would surely ask for you to open your eyes to the inexplicable and the odd, to things that may not follow the laws of 'normal' magic." She glances towards the hydraulics-wielding curiously.

Rumbo muttering to himself, perhaps more loudly than intended thanks to the alcohol being drunk, "Odd an unexplicable? Not 'normal' magic? They must mean Myrrish Gnomes. Devilish little blighters." With that said Rumbo drains what is left in his tankard. <goblin-talk>

"This one is not comfortable with such objects being within reach of mortal creatures either. But, if the rumours and what Griva her tells us is true, then this is exactly the situation we are faced with. You Resurrectionists do not have the backing of your dead God. You will need help. And you will be big targets for Taara."

Geir reaches out a hand, to affectionately squeeze Iuitl's shoulder, before looking to the others.

"The Temple of Eluna can adequately protect such objects. I do not mean for Seldan to safeguard them personally, but to be an arbiter of their protection. He, and his capable companions in arms and magic, can both ensure these motes safety and also help determine if they are, in fact, motes of a dead god."

The copper-scale nods to Griva's words. "This one would suggest that not only may these things not follow what we think of as normal magical theories... the motes may be common. Normal things... but perhaps, have shown up in odd ways. If that makes sense? It has been more than a decade since Animus fell. It is likely these objects have been here for that long a time. Start by looking for local legends arising around then. Could lead to interesting discoveries."

Ophelia stops near the swirling conversation, and goes more or less motionless, but for her eyes as they shift from one speaker to another. She clasps her hands behind her back, and her motors click softly as she shifts her attention from one, to another, and back again, and then to another speaker. "Excuse me," she inquires at last. "I have missed the start of the conversation. But am I given to understand that you wish to restore a god to life? I am not learned in the ways of Animus. Would you tell me of him, and what about him makes you wish for his resurection?

"Ohh. Historical research," Iuitl bubbles, becoming weirdly excited about the prospect.

Mikilos says, “Of the various divine to watch over such treasures, Eluna is a good choice. But not an unbias one. With the fall of the God of Magic, Eluna herself became holder of Light Magic. Of those who remain, it seem to me Vardama would be the one most invested in seeing a clean resolution, which ever sort of Resolution it might be. -If- all the Shards are gathered, and -if- they can be put back together, there remains the barrier of Death herself.”

Nodding, Seldan steps back and re-seats himself, taking his tankard up again. At the mention of Serene, though, he looks around, and if he can spot his fellow Silver Guard, he gestures the woman to join him.

Stjepan is in the back, looming. Honest.

Griva nods towards Mikilos. "You are correct, of course. But we don't even know if the rules of 'death' apply to a God. What's 'death' to a God, exactly? Surely, Animus did not pass beyond Vardama's halls, or did he? We don't know. WE're in uncharted territory, and that's both exciting AND frightening. The rules no longer apply. All we thought we knew..." She puffs her cheeks as she exhales.

"I know so many of you have fears and concerns. We all share them. But we have a *hope*. I ask that you respect our hopes even if you don't share them."

Merek looks to the distance in thought, then it's back to the people all around. "I don't think the Temple of Eluna will be safe. These enemies are quite resourceful, in the past we've seen how easily the powerful can come to this city. Taara's agents assaulted me in the city itself, I think we should find a location with ancient magic, which is designed in its make to protect things like that."

Stirling shrugs "Sounds like I have heard everything worth hearing." he says returning his tankard and making his way out.

Mikilos nods. "For protection, I'd normally advise a sealed pocket dimension. But, given the nature of these items, i'm hesitant of using powerful magics. -Can- they cross planar barriers? Do they affect magic around them? Do the Shards possess a level of their own Will? Do they -want- to be protected? They -might- be pieces to an elaborate trap, and explode when you put five of them."

"This one is a Mourner of the Deathdragon. This one could inquire as to the matter of Animus' passing. It seems doubtful that a God would pass through her halls. The dead only pass through her halls on the way to their final resting place. Where do dead Gods go?" Geir gestures with a hand. "That is a distraction for another day. Of the Gods of Magic, this one would prefer Eluna over Taara, for obvious reasons. This one doubts the Deathdragon would have an interest in taking a stand here. Though, this one would not dare to speak for Her."

The copper-scale gestures to Seldan. "But this one knows of Seldan. Of the things he faced. His comrade in arms, Serene, would also be a good choice. She too, is known. This one does not believe Eluna, or her servants, to be greedy."

Rising, Griva moves and claps Merek on the back companionably. "Friend! You have just described exactly the inner vaults of the Temple of Eluna. The only place more secure would be the Eidolon Court itself, where it is surrounded by knights and wizards and clerics of all faiths and is such a holy place I dare not actually bring the shards there when we have even one, let alone all of them, without copious before hand work. We do nothing without study. Nothing at all." She turns towards Copper-scale and offers them a smile.

"I would love to discuss *that* with you at length. The Sith view of these things is *endlessly* fascinating."

Stjepan comes off the wall, arms folded across his chest. He considers the conversation carefully, circling slowly in towrds Griva and the others.

"I doubt there is any foolproof location," Aya opines, "as there are always new and improved fools. Certainly not anything ever designed to hold or contain remnants of a dead god, ancient or otherwise." Who would think it possible, much less prepare for it? "The temple, or a temple, is more secure than most other options."

Now turning towards Ophelia, Griva nods to her!

".../hopefully/. We are by no means certain that htis is what we can do, or is even the correct path, but it's a goal! A goal is a good thing to have. *Hope* is a good thing to have, even if it is a terrible burden as well." She points at Ophelia with a finger.

"I've talked with the Court of Eluna, and not all of the gods, even our own, want him back," Merek notes then to the pat from Griva, and looks to the people, "I wouldn't put it on any one person, let alone that whole of the faith," he notes, then sighs while he seems to think."

Rumbo tries to ask something in his harsh tradespeak again and calls out, "Rewards? What help us we help dead God?"

Mikilos glances to Rumbo. "Mostly it's a matter of altruistic followers, though the prospect of a God owing you a favor is no small thing. But on a more practical level, I'm sure any relivant adventures will be backed with standard funding through the Guild of Explorers." <goblin-talk>

Geir turns at what Rumbo says, again raising and smashing the butt of his spear upon the floor. "Reward? We speak of preventing chaos and destruction, and you seek reward?" The Sith growls, and turns instead to Merek. "It may not be desirable to do so, but to do otherwise brooks disaster. While we should all work together, sometimes it is helpful to have one person being able to make the decisions."

"We've communed. The answer seems to be unclear, but it may be simple respect of mortal free will, or genuin uncertainty." Griva shrugs her shoulders. "IT can not be said with certainty, but then, the Gods rarely give a clear answer. Free will," she repeasts.

Rumbo just gets a long stare from several individuals here.

Stjepan snaps an irritated look at Rumbo, then over at Griva. "You kniow, I don't know if you're listening, or if you have your answer and you're working backwards to find your questions. Be careful." He scowls for a moment, thinking. "It raelly depends on what the gods are, doesn't it."

Ophelia holds out her hands and turns her palms upwards. "Hope is good to have," she agrees. "But blind hope helps nobody. I find the intent behind your goal to be laudable, but I am... uncertain as to the effects it might have. Are you certain that Animus, once restored, would be the same god he was before? Would other gods who have assumed his powers and domains be ready to give them up? Would they be upset with us, for our actions?" She shrugs her shoulders, and lets her hands drop back to her sides. "I feel... we should seek the guidance of the gods before any undertaking."

Aya has her own opinions on what the gods are, what might result from even attempting to reform one, much less succeed... but she is content to keep them to herself. There is her streak to maintain, afterall.

Again, the disapproval gets Iuitl to lift a hand and rest it on Geir's arm. "Not all who could be valuable in seeking these Shards will do it out of a feeling of righteousness. These feelings do not fill their bellies or warm their bones," she brings up, "A few coins passing hands won't bother the gods."

Rumbo nods as he replies to Mikilos. "I understand, and it makes sense, but it's a question that had to be asked. I'm not sure how many could bear the cost of such an undertaking on their own. Funding should be considered so I don't know why so many dislike my question." Then after a moment of glancing to Geir he adds, "As for preventing chaos and destruction I'm not sure even Gunahkar himself could say if these steps would prevent chaos and destruction or hurry them along." <goblin-talk>

"Friend," says Griva to Stjepan, "the only thing I've done tongiht is listen. Listen, and express un certainty. I know a controversial opinion can draw skepticism and assumptions of bad faiqth, but I don't think any of us have done anything to earn it as of yet." She smiles at him, warmly. Holds out a beer.

She then turns towards Ophelia with a nod, does Griva.

"We're all uncertain, friend. These are uncertain times. We know very little. We hope to learn. We have our goal, but our goal is not immutable and may indeed be impossible to achieve! Open minds are important."

The copper-scale glances to Iuitl, and after a moment, he nods slowly. "This one understands. However, basing such things on an exchange of coin could bring a flood of charlatans and their ilk. This one would welcome rewarding honest, good folk. This one wants to prevent more distraction."

He glances to Rumbo a moment, "This one does not speak Goblin, apologies." To Griva, he offers. "Iuitl does have a point, this one concedes. Perhaps the Adventurer's Guild can be engaged? Coins could be offered, while we can ensure that the Guild sends teams to possible sites of such that we seek. And not to every last place on this green earth. When we need not."

Stjepan takes the beer. "Just be certain that you can match your actions to your words. Teleo-- teleologies are seductive. It would profoundly unpleasant to discover that this was all a scheme on behalf of Taara to concentrate all of the Shards into one easy-to-absorb place." He sips the beer nonetheless.

Ophelia quirks her head to one side. She moves strangely; not quite like a human would, but close, as if a human had adopted some of the quick movements of a bird. "Well," she replies. "I can respect a goal that one is willing to change. If you desire assistance with your research, then I am prepared to help you as best I can. Even if that means protecting a scholar in a dangerous place, moreso than actually doing the research myself."

"Indeed, indeed. We're calling on the community to help," says Griva to Ophelia, glancing back towards Geir and Iuitl thereafter with a smile again. Then a nod towards Stjepan.

"Of course! I could be Taara right now and not even know it! That's a joke. Just in case there's any overly credulous people in the room. We're not in any hurry to throw the shards into a single locale to see what happens. There's a... a great deal that has to be done. A /great/ deal."

The copper-scale leans upon his spear, and gestures to Stjepan. "While this one understands what you are getting at, this one hopes that we can avoid leaning too heavily into suspicion. Caution is good. Paranoia would jeopardize what we hope to achieve." He bangs the butt of his spear once again. "Which we should really get around to working out... what is it we want to achieve."

A gesture at the copper scale seems to find Griva's enthusiastic agreement.

Merek nods a bit to folk with a little wave.