ic Troid an Fomhóraigh (IC)

[Tiffany Korta]

Toraigh, Republic of Eire

20th December 2016

 

GM Post

 

Tomas O Floinin hating this island a little spur of rock sitting of the coast of Ireland, but it contained a treasure worth more than it's weight in gold so he'd spent months searching. None of the obvious historical or mythic places held the object, so he'd spent month growing to hate the island more as he scowled every millimetre of the place. Finally after all that time he'd found the object so in the middle of the night he ended up digging for the item, in the dark it wasn't that impressive an object, just a circular lump of iron around the size of the dustbin lid. As the light of the torch shone over it he could admire the fine Celtic carvings on it's iron surface, impressive it this object was as old as the myths suggested, more so for the planks of wood that it sat on that look like they'd been felled only yesterday. It was the Eochair Balor ar, Balor's Key and if the stories were true it was could hold a place so no one could enter through any magical means.

 

It was ironic then that the weather, as always on this accused island, meant he wouldn't be able to leave until after the holidays. But still what harm would it be to wait a few more weeks?

[Tiffany Korta]

Caer Arianrhod, Wales

8:10 pm, 4th January 2017

 

GM Post

 

Watching the sunrise Arianrhod, imprisoned Welsh goddess, couldn't help but ponder that a few thousand years was a long time for mortals to hold a grudge. To pass down the duty through the generations each remembering the crime that they couldn't necessary understand or appreciate. For immortals it wasn't more than a passing inconvenient but still some held a grudge, and there seemed to burn with such a fresh passion. Those picking at old wounds and those who wounds were fresh could be just as violent and nasty as each other, and the carnage could be devastating. Luckily for those little mortals who had imprisoned them in this gilded cage she'd actually grown to like them, her imprisonment was in someway a kind of a freedom and they did provide such entertainment.

 

<"You know you little tricks don't work on me Little Flower?">

 

From the shadows slinked Blodeuwedd a little irked that she'd been summoned explicitly by Arianrhod, there brief meetings had always been fraught what with the original Blodeuwedd being key to her downfall. She seemed in a pretty good mood, which was she understood was never a good thing.

 

<"What do you require from me oh Arianrhod?"> she played the proper respect, she was a goddess after all

 

<"You are aware that something can be both real and still mythic and both can exist at the same time?">

 

Blodeuwedd wasn't in the mood for Arianrhod games and gave her a look arms crossed. leaning against the balcony that overlooked the little island that was the goddess home and prison. Taking her glare as a positive she continued on talking.

<"It has been three weeks since the lock of Balor has been opened, the gates to there home is now open. The Fomhóraigh are returning and the Formorians know it, it will not go well for anyone in between."> she smiled a crooked smile <"Luckily champions are being chosen, maybe you should go meet them...">

[Tiffany Korta]

Silberman's Books, Freedom City

1:10 pm, 4th January 2017

 

GM Post

 

So far Merge Trois had been a good choice of employee, at least so far she hadn't burned the story down, except in one tiny detail. In some way she and Gretchen were similar in temperament and whilst thing hadn't gotten heated they did tend to snipe at each other. So today Merge had been banished to the stacks to restock the shelves, something she could do at speed as long as customers weren't looking, and for a while there was quiet in the store. But as usual it didn't last long before a Merge appeared from the back room.

 

"I think the boss might want to come take a look at this." Merge didn't sound worried more perplexed, it didn't stop Gretchen glaring at her over the interruption. Luckily laser eyes weren't in her power set.

 

"I'll be the judge of that! Let go see shall we." without waiting she made off to were the other Merge(s) were gathered.

 

The other Merge was in the Myths and Legends section, the regular books not the more esoteric volumes, looking at a book lying open on the ground. She picked it up and showed it cover, a cheap copy of the Invasions of Ireland, and placed it gently back on the shelf with other similar books. Almost instantly it popped back out of the shelf onto the floor landing with some pages open.

 

"Every time it's the same places something about the Second Battle of Mag Tuired." Merge explained picked the book up to return it to the same slot.

 

They all watched it repeat the same actions before Gretchen finally said.

"Yeah I think the boss should see this."

[Tiffany Korta]

Inside Morgan's Mind

Probably around the same time

 

GM Post

 

Morgan's divine parent was not the most subtle of creatures and was yanked away from a rather pleasant dream during an afternoon nap to be shown a dark apocalyptic vision. Below him float a very familiar island, that of his forefather and countless pub signs, Ireland. From a small island off the coast billowed up a cloudy figure with a baleful eye glaring towards a similarly shadowy figure rising from the centre of Ireland. They he was on the ground as the two figure, with shadow armies behind them, fought savagely laying waste around them.

 

Looking up into a nearby tree he could see the dark sharp of an owl with glowing green eye, a Blodeuwedd or the Owl, and sat as his feet sat a large grey cat watching the scene unfold, a Grimalkin. Well they might be unsubtle but at least he had an idea of who he could get to help him.

[Quinn]

"...!"

 

He sat bolt upright in his chair, a thunderbolt striking outside. The rain beat on Parkhurst like an endless tide, rolling down the window in sheets. He stared through it, the night having clawed it's way into his room. For a moment, he heard the mocking caws of a rook in his ears, before shaking his head. Just a dream. Just a dream.

 

Morgan rubbed his eyes, staring blearily at the stacked notes on his desk. Fallen asleep studying again. Another failed attempt to block the voice in his head. Another mocking jibe from the last dregs of the Eye. Mathair na trocaire, he needed to find more time to sleep - if he was napping midafternoon, and his patrol was in...ergh.

 

He rubbed his eyes again. Just avoiding the topic of the moment. That dream. That...wasn't just a dream, was it. He knew the Mor-Rioghain's patronage of dreams. He knew if there was any chance she'd send him a message...

 

"Other mothers send holiday emails. I get one who sends apocalyptic dreams." Morgan muttered, frustrated. He knew those symbols well, though. Knew them all too well. Bres was on the move again - and something moved against him. The enemy of his enemy was not his friend this time.

 

A silent chuckle in the back of his mind, one he decidedly ignored. "...an owl, and a grey cat. Subtle, mom."

 

He fumbled for a burner phone - a stack in his desk, just in case. First text, to a Lynn Epstein. Meeting at Silberman's in three hours? Something's in the wind. Crow. Second text, to a lovely young lady of Wales with a flaming sword. Meeting at Silberman's in three hours? We've got problems. Crow.

[Heritage]

Lynn was in her office, doing lots of work. Actually, that's a lie, a big fat lie; the changeling was watching YouTube videoes, and had been for the last half hour. Sure, she was over a hundred years iold, and a hero and a changeling and the operator of a successful snall buisness. But sometimes, she just liked to watch cat videos, just like everybody else.

 

We have a problem.

 

Wha, what? I'm...I'm focused, I'm focused! What's going on?

 

...Turn off the computer and come to the back room. We have a Poltergeist situation going on.

 

I'm coming, I'm coming!

 

The store owner quickly headed to the back room, where Gretchen and several Merges were gathering around the misbehaving tome. "What's going on?" 

 

"Watch." She repeated the same actions Merge did, with the same results.

 

Lynn looked puzzled. "Okay, that is weird; any idea what it means?"

 

Gretch already had her phone out as she conducted a quick Google search. "It looks like it refers to a battle between the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Fomorians. Old Irish stuff."

 

The changeling frowned. "So maybe someones trying to sends us a signal to tell us something?" Just then her phone buzzed. "And speaking of people sending signals..." She texted back: Sure, no problem.

[Tiffany Korta]

 

Blodeuwedd looked at her phone and gave one of her tight little smiles, it looked like things were already in motion. Luckily for a place that didn’t exist it had excellent cell coverage and her positive reply was already winging it’s way across the Atlantic. Of cause she couldn’t quite as easily make her way to Freedom City by herself. Luckily she had options provided by the Order.

 

She didn’t have to wait long before being granted an audience with the Triumvirate that decided matters involving the operation of the Order. The three, following the ancient Celtic idea, always had a member of each of the three branches of the Order. For an esteemed council that had run the Order for hundred of centuries there meeting room was a rather ordinary room. Blodeuwedd quickly laid out all she’d discovered, with the Seer confirming the information, and set out a simple request to be able to help. It was quickly agreed that whilst mobilizing the entire Order, yet, could be potentially disastrous just sending her could potentially help nip this problem in the bud. Well her and one other, there was a lot of travelling involved.

 

Around the time of the meeting she popped into an alley near Silberman’s, a place she’d not visited in what seemed a very long time, in the company of Gwenyth a young Seer of the Order that was to provide quick transport when necessary.

[Tiffany Korta]

 

GM Post

 

With the book content to stay on the ground, once people has stopped watching it fall, thing were more or less quiet again in the bookshop. Merge wondered off to do work in the back of the store and silence descended on the aisle, right now the area apparently drew no more interest from todays few customers.

 

Apparently happy with the current portents nothing more disastrous happened apart from the normal activities of a shop and the allotted hour came about peacefully. As peacefully you could get in a shop with both Gretchen and Merge at their normal behaviour.

[Heritage]

Silberman's Books, 4:15 pm

 

Lynn waited inside her office, sitting behind her desk as she continued to internet search about the Second Battle; Gretchen sat on the arm of her chair, idly playing with the lover's hair. The staff on the floor were instructed to send anyone requesting to meet with Lynn right one back.

 

"Learn anything useful?"

 

"Well, it was a fight between the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Fomorians, which is a bit like saying a battle between the olds gods and the new, or the Aesir and the Jotuns. The two sides are enemies who's stories are very much intertwined." She sighed and rubbed her face. "The Tuatha are usually seen as the 'good guys' in these kinds of stories, though even the good guys can be dangerous. I think Morgan has ties to the Tuatha, so if there's going to be a fight, I guess that's what side I'll be on, too."

 

"But what if the Tuatha are a-holes."

 

The changeling chuckled and shook her head. "Well, I've fought for a-holes before..."

Edited December 30, 2016 by Heritage

[Quinn]

"She's not wrong."

 

A calm, rasping voice from behind them - surprising. Just one moment they were alone - albeit with a slight breeze in the room - the next, a black-clad figure with a mask and a beaked hood stepped out from a shadowed corner. Smoke curled up from a glowing rune on his shoulder - similar shapes and whorls in silver thread going up and down the lining, and around the edge of the hood. Crow made a mental note, work on some form of bypassing teleport wards. Impolite, yes, but come on - one had to value a proper intimidating entrance. And having to twiddle one from a rune of wind-walking to a rune of becoming wind was troublesome. Never knew if bits of yourself might blow away.

 

"...the Tuatha exemplify the same human flaws and frailties of the Greek gods, combined with the arrogance and inhumanity of the Fair Folk. Paradoxical, but very little of deific figures tends to make sense." Crow quietly walked around the table, leaning against the wall beside the door. "...unlike the Formorians, however, they lean towards the benevolent more than the despotic. Enough that it's in our best interests to help them."

 

A nod to them both. "Up to speed. Heard about the book outside - young lady with black hair taking a pudding cup mentioned it to a co-worker. Something's up, and Mor-Rioghain doesn't like it." Grimace. "...Morgan sends his regards, by the way."

[Heritage]

My pudding cup shall be avenged.

 

The sudden appearance of Crow in her office was mildly annoying to Lynn, but only because any performer worth their salt hates to be upstaged in their own dressing room, as it were. There was definitely some relationship between Morgan and Crow, quite possibly familial (Crowe/Crow? Please!); they could be brothers, cousins, summoned aspects of each other or even the same person, but whatever it was it, it was not her place to pry. You had to respect a hero's process and M.O., or else everyone would realize how silly it was to have grown men and women dress up in Halloween costumes and shoot ray beams at each other, and how fun would the world be without that?

 

"Hello, Crow. It must have taken some major mojo to bypass our wards," the changeling said sweetly. "If you want, I could just put you on the guest list; never have to wait behind the velvet rope again." 

 

Gretchen rolled her eyes at that; as the resident security expert and perpetual naysayer, she felt Lynn's life and home were entirely too open to relative strangers, which she knew would eventually bite them all in the ass.

 

"Will Blodeuwedd be joining us? She usually has her finger on the city's Celtic pulse." She actually pronounced the Welsh heroine's name correctly, but given her faerie gift of tongues, perhaps it was less surprising.

Edited January 8, 2017 by Heritage

[Quinn]

A small - very small, but surprisingly genuine - smile creased his face below the black mask. On a normal person, it might have been amiable. On him, it was a mix of reassuring and evil. Seriously, Cowls were not meant to smile in costume. That was not a thing.

 

"...didn't bypass. Just cheated." A low rumble of a chuckle from him. "Walked through walls." 

 

To her offer, then, he shook his head. "Stress-test what Crowe builds, sometimes. Better to make me work for it. And deflate his ego." The smile vanished, replaced with a tiny smirk. "He'll provide anti-intangibility runes, free of charge."

 

His shoulders pushed off the wall. "...and yes. Contacted Blodeuwedd." Huh. Crow pronounced it properly too - though his had a slight brogue. Irish? "She'll be here presently."

[Tiffany Korta]

Looking a little out of breath a young woman, around sixteen you would guess, popped her head around the door. She looked like she could be from anywhere in Freedom City with her copper coloured skin and her hair in two plaits, until she open her mouth and spoke in an accent similar to Blodeuwedd.

 

“Hello there Blodeuwedd asked me to join in, she should be here already?”

 

And as if on cue a shape appeared from one corner of the room green eye’s glowing from beneath the cowl.

“It’s safe to say that I got the text. Sorry for the delay I had to wait for Gwenyth here, she has some gifts that might be able to help us.”

[Heritage]

I f###ing hate magic.

 

Sneaky people will always find a way in; it's what we do, I should know.

 

Grrr.

 

"Well, I think that's everybody," said Lynn as she nodded and gestured towards Blod. "Welcome Blod, and nice to meet you, Gwenyth. Everybody help yourself to the candy dish, and let me know if I can order you any coffee." Then she addressed Blod directly. "So, what's all this about the Second Battle of Mag Tuired, and what can we do about it?"