thenearshore | 41 - Cultist Arc Finale

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41 - Cultist Arc Finale

Who: Everyone!
When: June 2nd 2017
Where: Mostly the Near Shore
What: Tracking down cultists to remove them as threats to Heaven, erase as much of their presence from the Near Shore as possible, and consequences of such

With it being made clear that the cult's influence was scattered throughout not just Japan but spread far and wide, the gods of the Far Shore have been asked to assemble in the same place where Conclaves normally happen. Bishamonten is assigned the task of rallying the old gods, while Orihime is given the same duty for the new gods. Essentially, the old gods will be working in Japan and the new gods elsewhere. Both Bishamonten and Orihime have a long list of individuals and their last known locations with vague descriptions, collected by those who went out hunting them on Heavens' behalf when everyone was last gathered. ("A Different Sort of Hunt")

Orihime gathers the new gods at her home along the river. Outside her small abode, there are several soulless shinki pulled from their temple. Ostensibly, they are to help any new gods who don't have a shinki available to create the Cutting ties or Rend effects, but no one is there to stop a shinki from commanding them as well.

Orihime will direct the gods to many places in the Scandinavian countries of Europe, south as far as Italy, west to the United Kingdom, and east as far as Belarus and Ukraine. Meanwhile, another contingent is sent to Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia, the Philippines, and the South Pacific / Oceania islands around there. There's even some scattered across the Americas - north in Alaska and the Yukon as far south as Chile and Argentia. Getting to any region requires the permission of a Near Shore god with a local shrine there to teleport, or a much more mundane plane trip.

Since this is all taking place over an extended period of time - roughly 48 hours - new gods are welcome to jump around the regions at their own choosing, not restricted to just one place.

Cutting Ties

Blight Circles

Cult Hubs

Event Bonus:

Between Scenes / Afterward

Event Bonus: Gift Baskets!

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In Summary:

Travel the world
Hunt down the last vestiges of the cult's influences
Get goodies
Await the epilogue announcement
Have fun~

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Maybe she was wrong? The smile's still shy, but brightens like sunshine in return. As long as she pleases.]

It's a rich one - this place is ancient... incredibly so. This land was home first to the Norte Chico civilization, and they came into being around the King of Heroes time, and there's been people here ever since.

[And he's guaranteed that Iskandar will be diving for the history books with that one.]

Mages leave this continent alone for the most part, though.

[There's a really good reason for that.

Waver squeezes back, and the red jade band on his left hand glimmers dimly in the light. He's not sure Iskandar knows the symbolism of wearing the ring this way, but it makes the needed statement to everyone else.]

He's been communicating with his teaching assistants either through email or the odd phone call. I didn't think that unusual at first, but apparently he's not doing fieldwork or on sabbatical. I didn't find anything incriminating in his office.

[Iskandar has the knack of talking with people; Waver's talent is research. He tackled the archives - student records and faculty emails - and raided the professor's office to see if he left any clues.

... there was no computer there - must own a laptop - and shared drives of the faculty were clean.]

What have you been hearing?

Edited 2019-06-14 11:10 (UTC)

[Iskandar whistles.]

That old? How did it happen that I never heard of them?

[The question is obviously a rhetoric one. The world is much bigger than anybody in his times thought. He knew close to nothing about Northern Europe. How could he even hear about some country on the other side of the world?
Unfortunately, his quest for knowledge must wait. First, they need to find this guy. Or at the very least uncover and neutralize his workshop. So there's no danger that somebody could continue his "research".]

I was asking about the students that got hospitalized after the last exhibition and several times someone from the university called this guy professora only to get immediately corrected by some senior staff. I didn't think much of it first couple of times it happened but now I can't shake the impression that was no honest mistake.

A woman? All the records and emails I uncovered about our professor said he was male. Some of them went quite a way back...

[Now that's interesting and concerning and hitting some nerves in the same breath. Identity theft. Now is it a case of the records being falsified for a replacement, or...

Hmmmmmmm. Timelines, timelines...

Think back. When was the last exhibition?]

Did they say when and where they had contact with the professora? Perhaps at lecture?

[Because the communication with the TAs are now raising some flags. They would likely be graduate students of the professor and know him or her well. Directly mentored even. So if it's just the odd phone call and email lately...]

[Iskandar thinks for a bit reviewing all the conversations he had. No, he does not take notes and yet he remembers every word.]

That would be before exhibition.

[He recalls the poster for the event. Hardly a thing he could forget given how creepy it was. Maybe the people here are used to such sights but Iskandar finds the local art, and the masks especially, rather unsettling.]

Which was on 20th of March. Barely a word since. Not in person anyway. I'd say it's less suspicious than it looks. The thing was months in preparation no wonder everyone involved needed a time off once all the work was done. Yet, for the university not to check up on their employee is a little odd indeed.

[Or it's just their style. He's not saying they are disorganized. They just seem to have a more relaxed approach to management than for instance in Japan. Definitely more relaxed that he would accept himself. ]

That is strange. Usually there's at least some contact. There's always something or other that comes up, even if it just is administrative. Especially during the middle of term. [Granted the Clock Tower is different than other institutions, and he was a Lord, but...] I never got left alone myself.

[Sadly.]

It's a little too long for comfort, personally. I honestly don't like where that points.

[If they intend to go inside he would rather not do it wielding a weapon so Iskandar calls Ada back. The old lady is still visibly tired. Being in vessel form meant she didn't have run after him anymore but it's not a way to properly rest either. The thin air definitely doesn't serve her well. Never did she complain about anything so it was all left to Iskandar to notice. He's so used to his people being able to take care of themselves. It feels strange not to be the one who disregards his health entirely.

He nods in agreement. Waver is right that silence is unusual and yet Iskandar met the people at the university and he had time to form his opinion of them.]

They seem to have a rather relaxed attitude to ...

[Iskandar doesn't finish his sentence. pretty much everything That's what he wanted to say but he simply wasn't able to.

"I never got left alone myself."

It's barely a blink of an eye and he's there, hands sliding around Waver's waist pulling him close, burying his face in those stunning black hair. He doesn't care if anyone sees them or if he startled both of their shinki. He just needs him in his arms right now.]

My love.

[How can he even say it so casually?

If Iskandar regrets anything it's that he wasn't there to protect him. To shield him from the cruelty, the malice and the venom. Steal him away from that horrible place, that den of vipers, that he had to call home for so long. But he doesn't say anything he just holds Waver until his own breathing calms down.
Iskandar suppresses a grown. He doesn't want to worry Waver but there's something wrong here. This place, this city, it keeps him on the edge all damned the time and he doesn't know why.

Then a thought strikes him. Improbable and yet...]

Do you think he's dead? [a pause] or is it possible that he could have been at the compound during the raid?

... to everything?

[Waver's eyes widen as Iskandar crushes him to him and buries his face in his hair, and he can hear Eirene squeaking in surprise to the side and he can feel the dull flicker of that radiating through his bond. W-what was that about? Administrative hassle? He immediately and instinctively wraps his arms around Iskandar protectively, internally flailing and worried about the strength of the reaction.

You mentioned the Clock Tower... he saw the Clock Tower and the rest of Mage Society, and you've seen him reacting to Eirene...

... evil would be an outsider's reaction to taking that all in with fresh eyes. Evil would be the correct reaction. He can only imagine how a man of Iskandar's times took that. There's a swell of bitter rage and pain and he doesn't tramp it down and turn it against himself this time. Not after the fall of Chaldea, because they may have cost humanity everything. Waver's arms tighten, because it really seems like his memories are bleeding into Iskandar.

But.

But, everything is just too off for it to be just that. Off balance.

To everything, he said. That's not right. It smells like magic.]

He very well could be. I don't want to assume at this point. [Waver looks back.] And perhaps. Most cultists were kept in the dark about where all the compounds were for security except the leaders. But there was one that Berserker and I captured that seemed to know more. If he was him, I don't know. He was badly fucked after Berserker took him down. More meat than man at that point.

There were a lot more that got away, though.

[Waver frowns, nestling closer. The compound's charms had been restricted to the area. This is different, if it's magic. A nastier and more sophisticated version of the traps, that affects perception. But maybe meant for humans? So when a god stumbled in...]

You okay?

I'm fine!

[But something IS wrong! He hates fighting enemies he cannot see!]

[What's got into him?! Why he's so mad all of sudden?!]

I'm so sorry, my love. I didn't want to lash out at you like that.

[Breathe, Iskandar, breathe.

That's his skill. He can separate himself from what he feels in any given moment so he can think and analyze. So that he's not just a raging maniac with no control over himself. It helped him in many battles. He just needs an impulse and Waver provided him with one.

A trap then?

He has some magic resistance but he's not completely immune. So it must be it. What else? Why would he behave so irrational otherwise? It's not that those emotions are not his. It's that they're on such a heavy overdrive it's surreal.]

I think it's not. I mean. I'm not okay.

[It's like the volcano all over again. Though right now he's not seeing things. He's just angry.]

I'm in various stages of irritated since we came here...

[No. It was later. They had a good start, the city is beautiful. He really liked it in the beginning. He lets out a sigh.]

The university. I was ok before we went there.

[It fits but then he was fine while he was there. And Waver spent more time investigating. Iskandar can't remember exactly but ... He looks up at the building. The cafe seems innocent but now that he thinks about it he's got progressively worse the closer they are to this place.]

Or this place...

[Nothing suspicious here, right? Then why he has that sudden urge to be somewhere else?]

Right now I'm just angry... and I want to get away from here as far as possible. I definitely got worse the closer we were to this place.

[He nods in the direction of the entrance planting a quick kiss on top of Waver's head before releasing him.]

Let's check what they've got here.

[Whoever is playing tricks on him they'd better run. Because they just gave him a real reason to be angry. He'll find them and make them pay for what they did.]

Edited (found better icon) 2019-07-08 14:58 (UTC)

[Waver can't help the small jump as his alarm skyrockets.]

Iskandar?

I know. It's not your fault. [Frown.] I don't think the university's attitude is coming out of nowhere either. That kind of apathy is not normal. It suggests enchantment.

[He's a Caster. They don't have Magic Resistance for obvious reasons, but they have other ways of fending off spells. That he didn't detect this before...

Sloppy!

He's immediately furious at himself. Iskandar's counting on him, and he didn't see this. That could get him killed! IDIOT! Waver grits his teeth as he casts out his senses and mutters under his breath, seeking mana signatures and other signs of spellwork. He can't let anything slip out from under his nose again.

He nods, self recrimination still flowing like acid through his veins.]

There may have been a trigger at the university, though. You were with the affected.

... those kind of effects sound akin to those that are often produced by a magus's Bounded Field. We may have found the workshop. The cult wouldn't want any Far Shore beings to come close.

[Yet, wouldn't he be more affected himself? He's a god... shouldn't he be showing some noticeable effects by now too?

He breathes out his fury as Iskandar kisses his head, hugging him tight before Waver is released, and follows.]

Come, Genki.

[Eirene dissolves in light as a bow forms in his hand. If this is like the compound and there are ayakashi about, he is going to be ready.]

For their sakes, they better hope they're not home.

[He is not feeling very forgiving or merciful right now. An assault against Iskandar? He needs to deal with this now and remove the threat against his king.]

[Iskandar shakes his head. He can see where this is going.

There's no sense in hitting yourself with a stick. We both could have been more careful.

That's what he wants to say but doesn't. It's not a place or time to argue but he will get back to it once they dealt with the most immediate threat. But it doesn't mean that he's going to just let it be. He could almost see the wheels in Waver's head turning. There's no way in hell he's going to allow him to go on another self-whipping trip just because they both missed some clues. So what of it? Now they have better information they'll correct course and all will be fine. No reason for self-flagellation.

Then it's back to vessel form for Ada. She doesn't mind. She never minds. That's his biggest problem with her... and he can't even get angry at her for being so docile...because she simply can't be different. None of it is her fault anyway.

Once they're past the gate into the courtyard the resistance he feels gets stronger. Yet the place looks completely mundane. Perfectly ordinary cafe serving a local speciality. There's a generous mix of people there, both tourists and locals, sitting around, eating cake, drinking through straws from pear-shaped cups, talking, laughing.

Iskandar half-expected this place to be empty. He has real trouble reconciling this picture with the sense of dread that hangs in the air like some thick, viscous smoke. Surreal is the best word for it.
Nobody seems to notice them. Which is entirely normal behaviour for mortals in the presence of Far Shore beings. The utter lack of response from this place's owners isn't.]

You think this is their lair?

[Waver makes a rumbling noise, troubled.]

If not the lair, then concealing something important.

[He doesn't like it. He doesn't like how these people are just... going about their normal business, happy and enjoying life, unaffected by what's present. He doesn't like that there's no response to their presence so far. He doesn't like that he had picked up nothing until now.

Everything about this rubs him the wrong way. As a Caster, as an experienced mage, as a strategist, as a fighter... even as fledgling as he still is.

He's watching everything, breaking down the environment (this is not a great battlefield for a bow, so that means he'll need to get creative if it comes to it), with senses stretched as far as they'll go as they move further in.]

The question is if so... what?

Let's find out.

[Iskandar moves past the closest table knocking down a tall glass. Iced tea spills on the woman the drink must have belonged to and she jumps up her chair flying back hitting the ground with a loud thud. Her companion hurries to help her dry her soaked dress with napkins.]

At least the people here are not an illusion.

[Or so he hopes. If they are it's a damn elaborate one. Far more elaborate that it would be sensible. Someone setting up something that big might be too much for them to deal with alone.

Yet nothing other than the steady onslaught of dread indicates anything out of ordinary is even happening. Iskandar moves past the other tables without destroying anyone's attire this time all the way to the open door.
The yerbateria itself is a small, cramped, dimly lit place. There's a counter near the wall, a battered coffee machine on it and a row of tins each of them labelled with the name of the yerba variety stored inside. Behind the counter, a man is drying a glass with a cloth his gaze fixed on the huge tv mounted to the wall above his head.
He doesn't look like he noticed them.

The sign over the door on the other side of the room states Museo de Plantas Sagradas, Magicas y Medicinales. It's hand-painted in bold red letters. Is it only him or the resistance now seems to have a direction?]

[Waver skirts the crowds, though he brushes an empty chair and the scrape of it against the concrete draws the attention of the two businessmen deep in discussion about the papers in front of them. Then their attention briefly swings to the drenched woman.]

Yeah.

It bothers me that they aren't sensing a thing, though.

[Waver passes through the open door, scowling as he sees the tight, cramped quarters. Really not a good battlefield for war scythes or bows or the magecraft he favors. He has a knife, but that's no good if he needs to Rend and he's not sure how well he'll actually hold up in a close quarters match with an opponent that knows what they're doing, despite the physical advantages being an Heroic Spirit brings.

Again they're ignored. Waver tracks the man anyway.

... his eyes slide to the doorway with the bright red lettering above. There's a definite... push from that direction.]

In plain sight, huh? [A museum featuring sacred, magical, and medicinal plants.] It seems to be coming from there.

It is an official tourist attraction.

[Iskandar shows his phone to Waver. There it is. Right there on the list titled "What to see in Peru? Ten most curious sights off the beaten track." It is described as "a curious, private museum". The ranking site places it as a 53rd most visited tourist attraction in Peru. Opinions are very mixed. The yerbateria seems to get more love from the people.]

Let's check it then.

[Iskandar goes straight to the museum entrance but stops just before the door.]

I don't like it one bit but ...

[Suddenly it dawns on him. He had a feeling, a faint impression, from the moment they entered the courtyard. Difficult to place but vaguely familiar. Here just before the entrance, it got stronger and he finally remembered what it was. A sickly, slightly sweet smell of smoke and decay.

No amount of fair-scented herbs, incense and flowers can ever mask the stench of a funeral pyre.]

I think we need to hurry.

[Waver tilts his head as he reads what's displayed, even as he scrunches up his nose a little, because there's a scent beginning to tickle his nostrils in an irritating way that's impossible to ignore.

There's something here.]

Do you-?

[Waver cuts off as Iskandar says they need to hurry. There's something unforgettable about the scent of burning flesh and the doorway flashes for a moment to the pyre they made Caster's lair into. Waver grimaces, partly because of the memories and partly because this is about to take a nasty turn.]

The fire alarm must have been turned off.

[He glances to the man drying the glass as he's spurred into motion. Still absorbed in his work and the TV. Has he gone nose blind? No... he's just not noticing. Not good. The bow comes up as he follows Iskandar in.]

Right behind you!

Yes.

[The room is just what one would expect of a small museum. Several illuminated display cases full of artefacts, photos on the walls. Some dried herbs hanging in bunches from the ceiling.
Nothing out of ordinary.

If one should disregard the foul smell and the knee-high blanket of thick, white smoke that swirls at their feet as they enter. The stench getting worse with each stop they make. Iskandar covers his mouth and nose with his hand. The other tightens its grip on the scythe's handle.

Nothing in the room looks like the source of the smoke or the smell. All the outside sounds are muffled, barely audible as if coming through a thick layer of blankets and somewhere there, in the background, there's noise. A low, static buzz of static. Like an incredibly sleepy swarm of bees. This space is large but he sees no other exit. What then is the source?]

Odd. It has to come from somewhere.

[All of it. The smell, the sound, the smoke. There must be a way further. It's just concealed. But how?]

Below perhaps?

[Waver chokes and gags as one hand leaves the string of his bow, and the crane feather fan materializes as he summons enough of a breeze to bring in fresh air and push the smoke out the door.

There's no sound behind him. Not yet. The man behind the counter seems not to have smelt anything yet. Waver takes this moment to allow the fan to disappear again and reach into his pocket for alchemical dust. He tosses it in the air where it disperses into a glittering golden cloud to fill the room. It will make any trace of magic visible to their eyes, including where it's flowing from.

Sometimes the simplest method is the best. His fingers find the string of his bow again.]

Hopefully this helps in detecting the entrance.

[That sound though... the hum of white noise almost. A sort of sound cancellation spell? Or insect based ayakashi?]

[Suddenly the whole room glows with a maze of blue-green iridescent lines crisscrossing the floor, the walls and weaving around the shelves. All of the lines seem to flow in one direction ending just behind the large showcase on the other side of the room. In on itself the piece of furniture would not be even remotely interesting... if not for one little, detail. There's nothing behind the glass there. And it's difficult to believe such a small museum would keep one of their shelves completely empty.

Yet even this is not the end to wonders. As Iskandar looks around he quickly realises he's standing in the middle of a circle painted in gold on the museum floor.
On closer inspection, it's not just a simple circle but a face with zig-zagging lines coming out in every direction like hair. If only hair could end in snakeheads.]

A gorgon? Here?

[That could prove difficult to handle. If that was indeed the case. But what would a Greek monster do on the other side of the world? If it is, it should indeed have a lair underground. Good that at least one of them came with a ranged weapon.]

You know, I did hear something about tunnels below Sacsayhuamán.

[He looks back at Waver.]

And we're really close to that fortress.

That is no gorgon. That is Inti.

[Waver frowns down at the floor before moving forward to examine that empty shelf.]

Their incarnation is currently in the Japanese Heavens. [As a flying pony. This place takes all sorts. Moving on.] They're the god of the sun, here. Commonly, legend says he was the son of Viracocha, the god of civilization, and sibling to Mama Killa, the goddess who governs the moon.

[There's a lot of conflicting stories about Inti and his parentage. And uh, who he married and parented. We are going with the most agreed upon here.

Oh and for the founding of Cusco? Well now.]

As the tales tend to go, his children founded Cusco. That's why the royal family of the Incan empire claimed divine status of their own, with the ruler being Inti's living representative and generally a sibling being Inti's high priest.

[Waver hums as he takes a pinch of powdered and opens the glass to see if there's any warding inside the cabinet he needs to be wary of, as he inspects behind it.]

Now Inti is Peru's national symbol, but it's interesting to see it here. Especially given those tunnels. I know that Sacsayhuamán itself once had a temple dedicated to Inti [One of the holiest spot in the Empire.] and it was theorized those tunnels also connect to Coricancha, which used to also be dedicated to Inti as the House of the Sun. [The reputed holiest spot.] The Spanish tore that down and replaced it with Church of Santo Domingo, but there's a lot underground there, including an archaeological museum.

So with the cult targeting us, it would make sense they'd be targeting those kind of holy sites. And since, as you said, we're really close to that fortress...

Ah, I see.

[Iskandar nods. There's nothing holding him in place so he can get off the painted symbol. A sun god and this country national symbol?]

Now I'm not that surprised the cultists found fertile ground for their plots here. I would be pretty bitter myself if my gods left me to dwell in some faraway country half world away.

[And that's not just some god. City founder, father to kings. It's almost as if Zeus left his dwelling at Mount Olympus and decided to live on the Far Sho... well... they have Hibiki as Apollo so that's ... no. That's different!]

I can see they would definitely try to use some of that resentment.

[He moves closer to Waver and watches him as he examines the cabinet.

Whatever magic was there it was never on the inside but there is a net of crisscrossing lines on the wall behind. At first, they seem random but there must be some principle governing them. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to guard whatever is that they are protecting.

They would need to move the display case out of the way to get a better look.]

[Waver wrinkles his nose as he makes to drag the display case away from the wall and sling his bow comfortably across his body so he doesn't have to put it down. Guh. He just got blasted with a fresh round of that stench.

At least no hidden wards there.]

I imagine that's one of the reasons. [There a grating noise as the shelving unit scrapes along the floor.] Can't say I wouldn't be peeved if I found out the same. Especially depending the reason I was told for the ditching.

[There's a grumble as with one more screech, Waver pulls the cabinet clear.]

Most cultists think the gods give no shits about them or the world at all, so that would just be salt in the wound.

[Would you just ... oh, too late.

Waver, love, you really... eh...

Iskandar lets out a sigh. He was close but not close enough to react in time when Waver started dragging that cabinet.]

I would have moved that for you if you only let me. You really don't have to do everything yourself.

[He knows you're strong. There was one ruined bow serving as enough of an evidence to that fact. He's just stronger, it would have been easier for him.

With the furniture out of the way, they can finally see what it was supposed to hide. A large hole in the wall, enough for a human to pass through though for Iskandar it would be a struggle. The lines on the wall now make more sense. There was a picture there. A very old one. Before someone decided to punch a hole right in the middle of it. Its wards now broken, magic all but faded. The reason for that act of vandalism is the row of steps hewn into the rock leading downwards. Cultist couldn't have done it. They've merely discovered its location.

The stairs are unlit but there is a faint, flickering glow on the very bottom. Its source must be the same as the source of the stench. Somewhere down below there's a fire.]

Oh.

[Iskandar blinks.]

Do you think what I think?

[Are those stairs leading towards tunnels under the Sacsayhuamán? If so, what the hell are they burning there? And why is nobody stopping them?]

[Waver blinks, expression suddenly owlish.

UM. He sure could have asked for help. Ahhhh... er... uh... it was in the way and he just didn't think and started pulling.

His cheeks flush pink and he scratches the back of his neck.]

Oh. Sorry. Got carried away.

Next time?

[B rank strength sure trumps E rank strength, even though he can buff it up with Reinforcement magic and his own God power. Not that he's complaining. It's still more strength than he was ever allowed before the fusion.

There's a military grade steel cup that's a testament to the fact he's still learning how to wield it. He's better now than before, but still he slips time to time.

Waver peers down the hole and the stairs descending into darkness. His fingers touch the edge of the wall. The energy is faded, but it's old. How old? It'll take a few more moments to know, but everything presented here shows that the cultists are taking advantage of the location. That'll factor into how much resistance they'll face as they go deeper into their lair.

The flicker of firelight in the distance is foreboding. Why is nobody stopping them? Surely they've been noticed by now.

Waver hopes they aren't walking into a trap. More dust comes out on the palm of his hand, and Waver blows it forward on a magecraft enhanced breeze to help detect any magical traps before them.]

Potential trap? It's suspicious that there's been no reaction to us...

I know the lower level cultists can be blinder to us than normal mortals, but either we've not been noticed yet or we've been expected.

[And yes, what the hell are they burning? The more this goes on, the more on edge he becomes.]

41 - Cultist Arc Finale

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Np! The notifications bork big time sometimes :(

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