The Eye of Anubis: Book Eleven

[yalenusveler]

"I..do believe that I do, Lia" Andre said, examining his possessions, and finding the item in question. While it was entirely possible, even probable that Devereux had taken up writing again, it was equally possible, and possibly even more probable that Devereux was violating reality on some grand level.

Then just to check something, Andre began a little light reading of his own.

OOC:On a hunch, checking to see if there's any new writing in the copy of Terrible Tombs that I have

[Isabella]

The Tomb of Menetnashte
August 30th, 761, 1:47 PM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"Oh..." Devereux said, as he hopped off the altar and caught sight of what Andre was holding. "I... wish you wouldn't... read that, Lia. I'm... going to have to rewrite at least... half of it. It's... a little embarrassing, to be honest."

The copy of the book that Andre had, despite reasonable expectations, no new writing in it. Nor had any of the writing changed, or crawl around on the pages while Andre looked at it. It was rather disappointing for a slightly sinister book written by a certified madman, although it was only the first draft.

[The Whistler]

Well, if nobody else was going to ask the question, Otto was.

"So...rewriting wholesale, are you, then? I cannot precisely *blame* you, given the events of the past day...although our present surroundings might not quite be statistically representing of Akiri tombcraft as a whole."

The gunsmith glanced upward and around the room they had entered. "...It could be making of a *ripping* good appendix, however."

[DocBeard]

Tomas's face is a little flushed, but that can be explained by the condition of his condition, what with the peril and all.

"Oh, right." Tomas gestures behind him. "We, ah, picked these fellows up again. I'm not going to let Vedarrek kill them. Did you...see anything, while we were in there, Professor? Or catch a nap, at least? You seem much more refreshed than when we were last speaking."

[NeoTiamat]

The Tomb of Menetnashte
August 30th, 761, 1:40 PM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"I just had some time to think about things, that's all Tomas. Very refreshing, time to think." Professor Devereux said calmly, waving politely to the various returned conspirators. "Hello Michel, Lily, everyone. Probably best get going, I suppose."

A bit of clear, colorless fluid dripped from the damp patch on Devereux's arm.

Outside the Tomb of Menetnashte
August 30th, 761, 2:44 PM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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The Falkovnians had established their camp in the cavern surrounding the entrance to Menetnashte's cenotaph. Lean-tos and tents were located all around the perimeter of the chamber, and the smoke from a half-dozen fires pooled in the tall ceiling of cavern before disappearing through cracks and crevasses to the surface.

All around you bustled the organized chaos of a military encampment. Soldiers bearing the hawk-brand moved to and fro, cooking food, carrying boxes, cleaning weapons. Quite a lot of them were cleaning weapons, actually, sharpening swords on whetstones or sorting crossbow bolts into neat packs of five for ease of use. Most every soldier in the group had at least one, if not both of their weapons close at hand.

Not all of the activity was martial, of course. At the edge of the deadly zone around the cenotaph's entrance, colored lengths of wood had been inserted into the sandy ground to show the edge of the safe area. Just beyond it, in the company of some fairly bored looking soldiers, Kommandant and Ambassador Marcos Vedarrak chatted amiably with Professor Marchand-Renier, whilst Remy fiddled around with his cameras and took daugerreotypes of the tomb-wall in the torchlight. nearby, the black-eyed old man sat cross-legged on the ground, seeming half-asleep.

"have you ever considered the possibility, Sebastian, of establishing a dedicated archeological academy in Falkovnia?" Marcos Vedarrak was saying as you exited the old tomb. "A research institute, dedicated to uncovering the past."

"I've a hard time seeing a military regime as a patron of academia." Marchand-Renier said darkly.

"On the contrary. No one is a more fond patron of the sciences than the military." Kommandant Vedarrak said with a smile. "The quest for more efficient weapons is neverending."

"Why am I not surprised..." Sebastian said. "Though Drakov doesn't seem to think so."

"The Kingfuhrer is quite good about letting his officers pursue their individual interests." Vedarrak continued pleasantly. "Why think, Remy, your photographs could form the core of the new Lekar Institute of Archeology. What do you think of that?"

"Er..." Remy said, at a temporary loss of words. He was saved from answering by the emergence of the much-expanded Expedition from Menetnashte's tomb.

Marcos Vedarrak stood and smiled, though his ice-blue eyes missed nothing of the approaching Expedition. Not the sudden presence of the conspiracy, not the slight change in the various stances of the people involved. Vedarrak noticed things. He noticed the burning fire in Guy's eyes, pausing when he did so, then moved on. He noticed the way Samael's fragile smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He noticed Fassahd's state of dishabille, and he noticed the stretcher on which Edmund rode. The Falkovnian commander noticed quite a lot of things.

"Well now, our long lost companions return. Alive, even." Kommandant Vedarrak smiled broadly, even as his chill eyes sparkled coldly. "Quite a surprise."

"Professor Carter, Herr Haulfstead, and Frau Sarari are riding a patrol with Lieutenant Schiffer at the moment." Vedarrak added, nodding to the rest of you. "But he'll be back soon enough. Meanwhile, I'm sure you've a lot to tell us."

"Hello Ambassador!" Samael also smiled broadly, while his own grey eyes seemed shrouded in mists. For a moment, he seemed almost the Samael of old, were it not for the slight twitch of his fingers as he spoke. "It was quite the surprise to hear that you'd come here as well."

"I'm sure it was. We found your gear nearby, by the way. M. Lessard's been using his camera equipment." Vedarrak was enjoying himself, really. "Your former companions have been telling me some truly hair-raising tales about you. Accusations of murder had their place, I recall."

"Aaah... Professor Pelletier." Samael said. "No, I'm afraid that it was Cavendish as killed him. You're familiar with him?"

"I am, yes." Vedarrak said without other comment.

"He's been dogging our whole trip." Samael continued. "Killed two of the guards, then killed Pelletier. We split the expedition then to try and throw him off, with variable success. A decoy, if you will."

"Your friends were a touch under-informed about it all." Vedarrak said.

"Ah, yes... I'm afraid I got a little too clever there." Samael coughed apologetically. "I figured that as decoys it'd be best that they don't know too much of what was going on. They were a bit more zealous than I'd expected."

"Yes... we have a very zealous little group here indeed." The Kommandant said. "They never cease to amaze."

"On the bright side, we got what we came for. Enough rubbings and archeological treasures to keep even the most demanding University dean happy." Samael Maleagant continued smoothly. "So even though some mistakes were made, we got what we wanted. In fact, we even have the star of the collection, the Eye of Anubis. Tomas, show it to the man, please."

"Yes, Herr Eisenwald, do show us the Eye of Anubis." Marcos Vedarrak said with a tight smile. "We've all been waiting for it for a very long time."

[DocBeard]

The star, he says. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Samael, Tomas sticks his hand into the sack. Idly, he hopes that this thing won't create an army out of the Falkovnians's shadows, carefully pulling it out into the light. Vedarrak may notice that Tomas is not touching it with his hands, instead using the heavy sack as a makeshift glove for the strange jewel.

"Careful." Tomas says, after a moment. "The thing had a magical trap on it, we're not sure if it has others."

[Kaitou Kage]

Kuzan...was relieved. Or would have been if he hadn't been so tired. He'd also have felt much, much better if he could actually see Carter, Dieter, and Sarari to know they were okay. It could, however, be much worse. The priest half-expected to walk out and find everyone on stakes.

The priest brought his mind to attention, though, and listened to the exchange between Samael and Vedarrak. There were undertones there. Even in his state of exhaustion, Kuzan sensed them. Nobody wanted a fight here. Certainly not Kuzan himself, nor Vedarrak or Sam. Vedarrak was ready for one, but he preferred not to, especially now that the Conspiracy was back. That was why none of the hostages were tied up or otherwise under overt restraint.

Plus, Vedarrak and Sam both knew they worked for the same person in the end. They seemed...They seemed ready to let their boss handle it rather than have to jockey for it now.

If it kept everyone safe, Kuzan was fine with that, too.

He walked over to Lia and put a hand on her shoulder, silently sending her a message to hold back and stay quiet. Then, he approached Tomas and nodded just slightly. It's all right, he seemed to say to both of them, Don't start anything. Just go with the flow and we'll all be okay.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

When Kuzan touches Lia's shoulder, he may be surprised by the amount of tesion that loose-fitting robes can hide. The wizard is as tightly-wound as a beartrap at the moment ... or perhaps a mantrap? In either case, Lia seems to be very much on edge.

And yet, she remains silent. Her expression safely hidden behind the silver-stained ebony mask, Lia stands a pace behind Tomas, her hands inserted into their opposing sleeves. A stray breeze catches the edge of her cloak, but other than that, she moves not an inch right now. Her eyes move between the dread gemstone ... Tomas ... Vedarrak ... Maleagant/Dilisnya ... the gemstone ... Tomas ... Vedarrak ... Maleagant/Dilisnya ... the gemstone ...

Truth be told, she does not even look up when Kuzan touches her.

[NeoTiamat]

Outside the Tomb of Menetnashte
August 30th, 761, 2:44 PM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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The Eye of Anubis gleamed in the cavern. It seemed such a small thing, really, a spindle-shaped gem not six inches long and three inches wide, hardly more than a particularly thick pen. And yet within that gem was contained an infinity of darkness.

Vedarrak, for his part, must have been granted with more than the usual amount of mortal self-control, or at least a hearty respect for what the Eye could do, since he didn't look at it for more than a few heartbeats. Then the Falkovnian withdrew from a pocket a small alabaster disc and a piece of rosewood, averting his eyes from the brilliant emerald.

Vedarrak placed the sliver of wood atop the alabaster disc, and passed it over the gem as the Expedition exited the dangerous area of the Tomb. It was an old ritual, one which would have caused the wood to smoke had the Eye been merely a magical item of some manner.

The Eye being what it was, the sliver of rosewood instead quite nearly vaporized, disintigrating into charred ash in seconds. Vedarrak watched the result of his little ritual calmly, though he looked at it, perhaps, a bit longer than he should have.

"Well." Vedarrak said at length. "It appears to be genuine."

"It has some interesting side-effects." Samael said blandly.

"I'm sure." The Falkovnian Kommandant withdrew from another pocket of his military jacket a small bag, just large enough to an object the general size of the Eye of Anubis. It was bloody red in color, and every inch of it that you could see was embroidered in golden thread in strange sigils. "If you would be so good as to deposit the Eye here, we can be on our way."

"If we press on, we can reach the Mistway by tomorrow night." Vedarrak said, calculating the times involved for a moment. "And I imagine we'd all be happier once we're away from the Tomb."

Spellcraft DC 25 if anyone wants to ID the sigils on the small sack.

[Kaitou Kage]

"Protection runes," Kuzan murmured to Tomas. "The bag's covered in protection spells. Very powerful ones."

[DocBeard]

Tomas nods to Kuzan, waiting a moment-just long enough to catch Vedarrak's gaze...

...before dropping it in. He wonders, idly, if this Fraternity brother can see his spirit, as he can see the souls of wicked men.

[Nathan of the FoS]

"One would hope it would be, after all this trouble," Charles says, shaking his head. "Genuine, that is. Has the scholastic side seen enough to satisfy them?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia keeps her peace, eyeing the Falkovnian and the Eye in turns, and stays a pace behind Tomas.

[lostboy]

Sascha also keeps his peace, folding his arms across his barrel chest, and awaiting the outcome. Not that every fibre in the knights body isnt screaming about the wrongness of handing a demon's prison over to one such as Vederrak.

"Lesser of two evils for now" he mumbles inaudibly under his breath.

[NeoTiamat]

Outside the Tomb of Menetnashte
August 30th, 761, 2:44 PM; Day 165 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"One would hope it would be, after all this trouble," Charles says, shaking his head. "Genuine, that is. Has the scholastic side seen enough to satisfy them?"

"Should have." Vedarrak said, closing a drawstring on the runed pouch. The golden embroider burned brightly for a moment. The Falkovnian Kommandant returned the pouch with the Eye to his breast pocket. "We've been watching this entrance for two days now. Not an inch left un-sketched and un-photographed, I think."

"Move out in one hour." The Falkovnian turned to his men and clapped his hands together loudly. The soldiers began to take apart their camp with practiced efficiency, bringing down tents and lean-tos and collecting weapons and the like for transportation. A veritable ocean of constructive energy. Turning to you, Vedarrak continued. "We'll should reach the Shadowsand Mistway sometime tomorrow evening. It exits near Morfenzi, and from there should be a week and a half till Port-a-Lucine."

"Almost home." Vedarrak smiled pleasantly, his chilly eyes crinkling at the corners. The smiles the various Expedition members returned him were less than enthused, Samael's in particular.

"He-of-the-Hawk." A voice called up from the side. The black-eyed old man had awoken, and leaning on a wooden staff he approached you. "Your promise."

"Ah, yes. Well, fair is fair." Vedarrak nodded his head respectfully to Kheldun. "You can lead the kitchen staff and such back to Muhar, and best of luck to you. Feel free to take our two guides with you as well. Their services are no longer required."

"But..." Khalil began to protest.

"Your services are no longer required. Never fear, I've authority to pay you if that's what you're worried about." Vedarrak said sharply. "But I don't really see any reason for you to come back with us."

Kheldun and Fassahd exchanged a long look. The old man's eyes were unreadable, but Fassahd's, Fassahd's eyes looked every which way to avoid his grandfathers. Then, after a long moment, he nodded. "So it shall be, Effendi."

Khalil grimaced, but with the other Akiri agreeing he had little choice in the matter. He turned to the rest of the Expedition. "Good luck, and Anubis smile upon you."

"Yes, Anubis's blessing upon you indeed." Kheldun said quietly, even as Fassahd walked over to join his grandfather. "May he guide you come what may, and hold you in his hand when the time comes."

Fassahd, for his part, said nothing. Merely looked at Vedarrak and the pocket where the Eye now rested. But now, his task was done. Whatever happened next was out of the werejackal's hands.

"Touching." Vedarrak said simply. It was patently obvious that the Falkovnian cared very little. To the rest of you, he said. "Place whatever you found in the Tomb into the central chests, we'll be carrying it back to Dementlieu all together. Then get your gear ready, we'll be moving out shortly. We'll rendezvous with Lieutenant Schiffer at the foot of the cliff."

Thus Ends Book Eleven. I'll open up Book Twelve either late tonight or sometime tomorrow.