Midnight on the Firing Line

    There are some who think they know what it is to be secretive, then there are those who are fully aware that almost nothing can be a secret. For long. This evening, Wake is alone. She has checked all the halls, prowled every entry point, and ensured she will be undisturbed. Only one man is to be allowed past the gate, and he is not to be challenged.

    Wake has settled into one of the less notable rooms, just a simple, random meeting chamber. Her own chambers are brightly lit for the purpose of illusions, but she has made it clear where Robert is to meet her.

    The Right Clothes for such an evening apparently consist of a black dress with a conservative neckline and short sleeves. On either hand, Wake wears black, velvet gloves on which silver roses of Eas can be seen. On either wrist, she bears the odd ornamentation of roughly made bracelets of silver, a common part of her wardrobe ever since she completed the Dedication to the Beautiful One.

As for Robert, he does not look like one fresh off the road. Indeed, he rather looks like someone who is about to have a meeting with a Baroness. Not that he's -particularly- dressed up. But he's clean, crisped, appropriately primped. And while his clothing is plain enough, the material is impeccably chosen. Probably therefore not chosen by him. Given his inclinations, this can only mean one thing: This ain't personal.

His knock sounds--three heavy whumps of his fist against the thick door, followed by the creak of it being pushed open to admit his frame. There's a pause, a quick survey of the chamber before him. Noting Wake's position, he pushes the door shut with a click. "Baroness," he begins, chin dipping in greeting. "The Doctor would like you to know, first and foremost, that your people in the Tower are currently safe."

    Wake rises from her chair to greet her friend. Business or personal, there are some things one must do. For her, that involves a deep curtsey, her head bowed.

    "Robert, thank you for coming." A pause then, to take in the news. "And thank you for the assurance. I hope against hope that they remain safe, though I wonder if any corner of this world is truly out of the enemy's reach."

    She rises then, and gestures to a seat, "Please, if you would care to take your ease." She settles herself back into a chair promptly.

    The room is simply decorated, but everything is well made. It suits its lady, welcoming, straight-forward, and meticulously thought-out. On the table where Wake sits are pitchers, one of a dry wine that the Baroness favors, and another filled with a mild spirit favored by the people that had (until recently) settled in the village. Alongside these is a plate with two loaves of bread, a variety of cheeses, and sliced fruit and vegetables.

And naturally Robert makes his way straight over towards the table. "Much obliged," he answers, reaching for the pitcher to expertly pour its contents, in a shimmering arc, into a glass which he pushes in her direction.

"I say this to assure you that we have not forgotten them, but also to--I suppose--spoil the story, so to speak," he continues, reaching for a plate. The porcelain clinks once. Then several more times as he begins piling fruit on said plate. Well, not pile exactly, but it's also a bit on the voluminous side of polite. "There have been some serious complications within the tower, you see. Certain Palace Landers snuck past our checkpoint and unleashed a ...well, some sort of female war-machine...inside Karluin's catacombs. The Doctor is currently working on keeping it contained, as we were unable to defeat it." He produces a folded-up piece of paper, pins it to the table with two fingers, and sweeps it in Wake's direction until it halts by her glass. "A copy of our official sketch."

    "A monster brought into the tower," murmurs Wake. "Is this why.." She looks up to meet Robert's eyes. She cannot hide the concern, the sympathy in that expression. She knows.

    Wake has lost people before, though, and she does not linger on that emotion overlong. It does no good at all. To mourn whatever might have been lost can be done later. If there is a later.

    "Did the inspection reveal anything of value? Is this child a creation of our enemies, or some strange relic they have captured?" The Baroness looks at the image for some time, "I imagine we have no choice but to destroy her sooner or later."

SpritesHero's lips purse, faintly. He takes his plate, turns about, sits. Crosses his legs fluidly and utters a long whoosh of an inhalation. "That is the official story, for now," he continues, thumb tap-tap-tapping on the edge of the plate. "And while it is truthful, it is incomplete. As you may imagine, then, the rest is sensitive, and for your ears only."

There's a breath of a pause, and he continues. "The war-machine--we are calling it an Ex-Machina for now--was there all along. Some invention from the distant past. It was simply activated by the infiltrators. There are three others higher in the tower. This one is the weakest of the four, and as you can see from the diagram appears to be missing a component. Which is why Prophylaxis will be calling off additional climbs for the forseeable future. At least until we figure out how to handle this one. As for the infiltrators themselves, they appear to have snuck past the checkpoint thanks to what we can only describe as invisibility cloaks. And you may be interested in their identities. I believe you are acquainted. A certain Harrifenas Potimas, and his daughter Filimos."

    Wake narrows her eyes. For a time, she falls utterly silent. Considering carefully what she's heard, she has numerous suspicions. Finally, she lifts her drink and wafts its scent.

    "Gilgamesh once cleared the Tower. Or so the stories say. Potimas is a friend of his, though I do not know the full nature of their history. I believe they disagree on the handling of adventurers, but it makes me very curious. How did they know of these things? I was under the impression the tower changed. Yet not only was this being found, it was successfully activated, and in short order."

    There are no answers to this in the confines of Wake's memories, so she does not dwell long. "It is unfortunate that this has halted progress in the Tower. That is very much what our enemy wishes. To delay that work. Which is a puzzle, is it not? We know that the wave we brought on last time was utterly crushed by them. So what is their fear? It can only be.."

    Wake settles her eyes on Robert, weighing something in her mind. "It can only be what lies at the top. The Key of Twilight. The means to fracture the world."

SpritesHero's smile thins. He spears a slice of melon with his fork, brings it to his lips, bites down. Chews three times and swallows. "Perhaps," he concedes, the fork swinging in one direction. "And perhaps not," he continues, the fork swinging back like a demented pendulum. "There are numerous possible rationales though, to an extent, they do not particularly matter until we actually understand what is happening here. In the sense that every single one of those rationales is countered by the precise same countermeasure: either eliminating or containing the Ex Machina as a threat."

The fork drops back to the plate, which is in turn set aside as he leans forward. "As amusing as it would be to play along and try to wring away as many tidbits of information as possible, I will be up-front. What do you know of the Key? My understanding is limited to its being at the top, and possibly a way home. Though Proteus seems convinced it will destroy this world."

    "I apologize, Robert. I have kept this secret for too long and it has become second nature. The Key is capable of causing a world fracture. These are the events that lead to drastic changes. One is credited for bringing us to this world." Wake gathers her thoughts, and is clearly taking great care. "It is important for me to be precise in explaining this, for it is not my area of expertise. I spoke to a being called Artemis, a traveler, and asked her what lay at the top of the tower. I asked if it would lead to freedom. Artemis said, 'If you manage to find the Twilight Key at the top of that tower, I am certain you could cause another World Fraction and leave this world.' It is not precisely certain what world we might reach, nor is it clear in the least what would happen to this world in such an event."

    Wake goes on after gathering her thoughts further. "Potimas dislikes adventurers and has no empathy in our desire to return home. Since one of us killed his daughter, I can understand why. However, that sin was not carried out by our people and his cause is unjust. I believe his aim is to stop that World Fracture. If it were to draw all the adventurers that they have enslaved out of this world, their power would be undone."

"Or their power cemented due to the lack of threat of competition," Robert counters, having returned to pleasantly snacking on those melon slices. Mercifully, though he comes dreadfully close a few times, he never actually talks with his mouth full. "Regardless, sounds like a high-risk proposition of uncertain reward to me. Climb the tower, get a key, leave but to heaven-knows-where...Well, it hardly inspires confidence, does it." There's a sigh of disappointment, assuaged somewhat by the sweet juiciness of yet another slice of melon. "I appreciate the information. Am I to keep it private? Regardless, I do think the priority is still to figure out what this Ex Machina does exactly, and how to deal with it."

    "They fear the Scale Emblem more than the other alliances," Wake points out. "Which you should be proud of. As for the key, I have to agree. It does not inspire confidence. I have tracked down a report of another traveler. Her name is Hestia. It seems each of them is aligned to a certain race. Artemis was aligned with sylphs, Hestia with humans. Other names that I have no information about include Loki and Ganesh. Regardless.. that's a puzzle for another day. I wish I had pursued it, but my focus was elsewhere. I had trusted others to address this matter, but they have failed to do so."

    Wake frowns at this. She's rarely so obvious in her displeasure. When her alliance lets her down, however, she is not kind about it.

    "That disappointment frees me to say that you should tell Prophylaxis about this, or I will do so at the next opportunity. Please be cautious with this. Part of the secrecy was the fear that this news would drive people to reckless focus. Now that we know how dangerous death is, it seems my concerns were accidentally prophetic."

SpritesHero's lips twist once more, his brow crinkling in thought. He broods in silence, gaze flickering from his snacks, to Wake, then back to his snacks. It's a rather awkward silence. At one point he even brings his hands to his face, rubbing at it. Finally he speaks.

"I will tell Prophylaxis," he answers. "Ganesh is a bit of an outlier there, no? Hindu if I recall? Something Eastern." His hand flicks through the air, as though to wave that concern away. "Regardless. The Ex Machina. Something needs to be done. You are correct that Potimas likely had to know of it from before the Apocalypse, so I figure there's one other person who can shed light on this. Don't suppose you'd be willing to come along to make sure I don't accidentally slurp straight from the punch-bowl, or something of the sort?"

    "Gilgamesh and I.. have met, as you know.. I would be willing to meet him again," Wake offers. Her tone sounds a little stiffer than normal. "I see you are right, of course. Yet we must be very cautious. If crowns can dominate our choices, perhaps they can dominate landers, as well. Gilgamesh is the strongest being I have met. At least I sure suspect that is the case. Proud, powerful, commanding. Unless of course I have missed my guess utterly and you need me to go chat with one of the Dukes."

    Her tone isn't quite mocking, but other leaders do not compare well to King Gilgamesh. At least not in her view. "I am not sure if I should look forward to the meeting or not. Regardless, I am intrigued."

SpritesHero neatly stabs his fork into the melon, artistically, leaving it bobbing there upright. "You are correct. It is Gilgamesh," he confirms. Wake's stiffness does prompt a spark of curiosity, but he sets it aside. For the moment. "There are a number of things I need to ask him. First, I need to see if he is familiar with the Ex Machina. Second, I need to see if he knows what it does. Specifically if it is tuned to target individuals, or types of individuals, or to patrol an area. Third, if he knows what is required to activate or deactivate it. Fourth, what the missing part is or where it might be, and what effect it might have. And fifth--incidentally pertaining to the crowns--if he is willing to divulge the history between their having been manufactured by Helba, Queen of Darkness, to fight off the Cursed Wave." He lifts his hand, as though to forestall any questions on the last point. "Don't ask. It means very little to me too."

    Wake listens to this all without comment. The mention of Helba, it seems, is not a shock, either. Considering her regular communication with Uta, she has been kept aware of at least some of the crown-related matters.

    "Perhaps I have a request of him, as well," she notes suddenly. "If you think it wise. Do you suspect he might know how to remove crowns? Supposedly nobles can do so. Certainly if power is of any consequence, Gilgamesh would qualify."

SpritesHero purses his lips to think for a moment. "I would think that he would qualify as a noble of sufficient rank," he answers. "I'm not sure it's -practical- to have him remove the crowns. It certainly cannot hurt to ask, though I should ask the Doctor if he has already done so. It rather seems like something he would have done already, and I'd hate to bother the King twice for the same thing."

    Wake corrects this gently, "I'm not asking for him to remove crowns. I am asking him to teach -me- to remove crowns. To free our people from this hideous wrong. If he is a just king, he cannot deny me this, even if oaths bind him from entering the fray on our side. But I will defer to Prophylaxis' guidance on this matter. I hope he can understand how I might be able to do what others cannot."

    The Baroness empties her glass, looking agitated. "I have grown ever more distressed by our enemy. They know too much of this world. They exploit powers we only suspect exist. A balance must be found."

SpritesHero allows his eyes to drift shut as he sinks back in his chair, the back of his head thunking against it thrice. "I'm also concerned that this represents an escalation," he admits. "Until now, our invaders had portrayed themselves as champions of the Landers against the Adventurers. And yet, here one of their top officials essentially--or at least to all appearances essentially--sets off a weapon of mass destruction right underneath a town packed with Landers. Either they are getting desperate, or for whatever reason the Landers aren't threatened. It is important to know."

    "There is one other thing you should know. Something odd happened with my chimlink. The part of it associated with my kingdom. I fear it has been compromised. It went down and then came back up. I have warned Prophylaxis. Do not share any secrets that way. We must rely on slower means of communication."

    The Baroness does not slouch. At least not by normal standards, but her perfect posture shifts subtly. She looks at the last dregs of her drink, her expression stormy. "I feel more and more like a cornered creature, to be frank about it. And yet there is nothing so dangerous as a wild thing with its back to the wall. When you do find out more on this matter, I hope you can send word. It will grow more dangerous, though. If this means that Fourland Dukedom is the next target, there can be no doubt what the ultimate focus of the invasion must be. We must act quickly to make the real estate of Eas a most costly purchase."

"Do you know, it occurs to me that we don't even know what a chimlink is?" Robert inquires as he slowly climbs to his feet. "We think we know the rules, and we don't. Or we do and they no longer apply, not really." Crossing to Wake, he briefly sets his hand upon her shoulder. There is a brief squeeze, then his hand withdraws. "They wouldn't be acting this way if things weren't going unexpectedly poorly for them," he comments, perhaps overly optimistically. "Or at least I wouldn't be, if I were in their shoes. At any rate, I would very much like you to be there with me to speak with King Gilgamesh, though I understand if your other duties are more pressing."

    "I will be there, Robert. It is time to see what kind of man King Gilgamesh truly is." The Baroness rises from her seat, sensing the conversation approaches its end. "You have far to go in the dark. I imagine you cannot stay and rest the night. Assure Prophylaxis that Eas stands by Scale's side in this, though soon enough it is likely we shall be no more than an idea: exiles once more in exile."

    No matter the grim words, there's no defeat in her tone. "Our enemy does not understand. Freed of land to defend, we shall be unimpeded, focused wholly on their annihilation. Without these castle walls, they will learn that we can strike from every shadow. Come what may, we will teach them to fear the lonely places of the world and steal from them any sense of security or peace."

"I feel comfortable leaving you to do what your agency has always excelled at," Robert murmurs, heading for the door. Pulling it open, he glances backwards over his shoulder. "Making a pig's breakfast of a mess out of things." There's a quick wink, a flare of a grin, and then he's off into night's gathering gloom.