The Sereni-Tree, the Immortals, the Octagonal Order, and the Harbinger of Darkness
POSTED BY: TheRealMe
UPDATED: Saturday, November 11, 2006 15:48
VIEWED: 21500
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This is Thread 52 of the adventures of the Sereni-Tree!
For “The Guide to the Clubhouse / Treehouse / Sereni-Tree Threads”, telling our story and providing links to all such threads:
http://www.fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=11&t=11877
Early in this next link is the very long post containing “TheRealMe’s Guide to the Sereni-Tree, V6”. This post is a description of the ship and crew, the latter of which is out of date.
http://fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=11&t=20521
The latest, updated crew list is early in this thread:
http://fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=11&t=22611
Following is a summary of our previous thread, located at:
http://fireflyfans.net/thread.asp?b=11&t=23106
The Sereni-Tree has come to the planet Zanzibar, which was colonized long ago by SCA enthusiasts, fantasy role-players, and new age mystics in an attempt to live with only a Renaissance Faire level of technology – with magic! (Huzzah for the Zanzibarbarians!). They breeded some giant, firebreathing space chickens to use as mounts instead of horses. For some reason, the Sereni-Tree crew had been curious about these creatures and wanted to get one.
It seems that a small group of evil, bickering, Immortal magicians, each wearing a different color, has taken over the planet. They use magic to warp and change life and souls. Their latest project is something really, really, REALLY bad. These Immortals are opposed by the heroic Knights of the Octagon, who have a secret hidden magically warded castle carved out of a mountain. The full details on this history can be had on this thread, posted around September 12, 2006. Here one of the Knights of the Octagon, old Sir Devan, reveals these secrets to Wisp, including the Prophesy of the Dark Harbinger, which may include mention of our Sereni-Tree folk.
There is some subversive Alliance activity on this planet, and these agents are seen as techno-heretics. The Octagon looks upon them as tenuous allies since they also oppose the reign of the Immortals.
Meanwhile, the Sereni-Tree is in orbit under the temporary command of SimonWho. SimonWho has been asked by all the Brides to help them resurrect the late Bride1, who had been reaverized and slain long ago in a previous thread. Also, SimonWho’s Blue Box appeared in the Sereni-Tree common room and PsychicRiver stepped out, apparently having completed his visit to his own elsewhen.
So, what has happened on Zanzibar? Let’s see, Our Heroes climbed aboard the shuttle Admiral Nelson, departed the Sereni-Tree, and secretly landed on this planet. This crew included Cozen (with chaps and sniper rifle), Jadehand, Jake7 (who has the power to confuse chickens), LightMeDark (who has the power to speak to all animals), Mai (with a new tracking device in a necklace), Seryn, ScorpionRegent, his robot Snarky (playing appropriate music), TheRealMe, Wisp, XanderLHarris/Ash, and a bunch of robotic space chickens crafted by TheRealMe for use as mounts. Meanwhile, Seryn has made us period costumes though some (like Jake7’s) require slight modification due to modesty issues.
ScorpionRegent ended up in the dungeons of the local Baroness for crimes that he apparently committed the last time he was here, mostly thefts and crimes of the heart. Seryn also found her way to the castle, and bargained for his release. The Baroness wants them to fetch some item for her that she claims was stolen by another noble. SR thinks it might be some magical device of great power. A mercenary loyal to the Baroness is the half-human, half-chicken called “13” apparently created by an Immortal’s experiments. The robot Snarky’s whereabouts are unknown at this time, but it was last seen in the company of SR before his capture.
Wisp chased a monk armed with a machine gun and then encountered one of the Immortals, Alatariel the Lurker. Just before she was about to turn him into something unpleasant, he was rescued by Sir Devan of the Octagonal Order and taken to the Order’s hidden fortress. Devan relates a prophesy of something really bad coming, but also of a
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In the Throne Room of the Empress:
Alatariel strode into the great throne room, radiating false confidence. She was dressed in her finest gown of black velvet, a modest amount of silver jewelry dangling from her ears and from around her neck, her hair meticulously groomed by a host of her slave demons. She attempted to still the quivering in the depths of her soul. After all, what had she to fear? What harm could one Immortal truly deal to another?
She gulped, and put a pleasant smile upon her face. Arinda was a mentalist of the highest order. She had no need to harm one’s body. She could toy with one’s mind as she pleased, until it was something else entirely, even until nothing but the body remained!
The ceiling of the throne room seemed impossibly high. Illumination came from everywhere, and nowhere, to light her path. Great columns lined the way, interspersed with larger-than-life statues, all of one person, all of Arinda in her royal finery.
Upon a raised dias at the far end of the chamber was a massive throne made of gold, silver, and ivory, and littered with precious stones. In the throne a familiar figure sat regally, her arms resting comfortably at her side, her back straight, her head held level and motionless. She was dressed in a long, flowing lavender gown and cape of deepest violet, lined with ermine. A golden crown set with diamonds and amethysts rested upon her head, her long, dark hair carefully arranged to flow out from it and down over her shoulders like a cascade of a waterfall, framing her severe face. Her own eyes were closed, but all around her head floated the small silvery orbs that gave vision to her now. It was Arinda the Empress, Arinda of the Silver Eyes, Arinda the Violet.
When she reached the base of the dias, Alatariel bowed deeply, kneeled, and gazed upward. “Your Majesty, as I was summoned, I am here! Alatariel the Black is your faithful servant!”
“Damn!” Arinda muttered.
Alatariel began to tremble. “M-Majesty?”
Several of the silver eyes orbiting about Arinda’s head turned and focused upon Alatariel. But the Empress was clearly viewing some sight from a different location.
“That half-wit Kei! He called me a man again! And in front of newcomers! There will be all manner of confusion, now! I ask you, do I look like a man to you?”
A bead of sweat worked its way down the side of Alatariel’s face as her mind raced. The Empress had great power in Truthseeing. “Surely, Your Majesty, feminine beauty of your kind has rarely been seen in this world! I assure you, were you to enter a crowded room, I am certain that you would cause every head to turn!”
There! That was all true! Of course, Alatariel neglected to specify which DIRECTION the heads would turn.
“Yes, yes, you are so right, Ally. Still, that Kei!”
Seeing an opportunity to discredit her rival, Alatariel carefully ventured, “Kei? That young Knight of the Octagon? Wasn’t his capture part of the mission of Ouroborous and his snakes? Has Ouroborous… failed?”
“Yes,” Arinda snapped. “Just as part of YOUR mission was the capture of that techno-heretic! We can’t have these… these… ideas… spread among the commoners!”
“Yes, Majesty, of course. Unfortunately…”
“Unfortunately, you failed! Just as you have failed in other matters!”
Alatariel gulped again. “It is true, Your Majesty, that one of my hand-crafted chimeras escaped from the special lab…”
All of the silvery orbs snapped into focus upon Alatariel. Arinda’s face, eyes still closed, slowly turned toward her. “One escaped? What does it know? Is it dangerous?”
Alatariel silently cursed Ouroborous. He had not betrayed this embarrassing secret! He merely tricked her into revealing the secret herself! And to the Empress, no less! “Indeed, so, Majesty, but I deem it of little consequence. A semi-sentient at best. Please, put it out of your mind. If this is not the reason that I was summoned, then if it please Your Majesty, perhaps...”
“The Special Project. It is late.”
Alatari
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Wisp walked down the rows of debris viewing the corpses above him and the technology by his side. He wasnt paying much attention to the ships and such only the dead men swaying in the ceiling. The ropes and stains on the floor told him that theyd been fastened there as living traitors although now their skeletons only spoke of the punishment not their crime.
"can you take them down??" Wisp asked with a samaratins tear in his eye.
"I wish i could but the law dictates that they must hang for a century. I am sorry. I can have them moved to another room though."
"Thankyou I would be greatful" Wisp turned away from Sir Devan and returned his gaze to the men. The knight exited the room then returned a second later accompanied by two hobgoblin like creatures that clambered up the walls and dragged the bodies to a far corner of the room. Behind them came a ragtag bunch of people. A wizard, a blacksmith, an alchemist of some sorts and three very large burly chaps with strangley monsterish features.
"These are your team. If you require any more men dont hesitate to ask" Sir Devan bowed slightly and existed the room.
Wisp looked around the room now for the first time. There were several pieces of alliance hover tanks and troop transports some in better shapes than others. There were too alliance dropships but they were badly damaged and their engines were definatley unsalvagable. In the corner was a Behemoth tank in relativley good shape that would make a good starting point.
Wisp had three plans for the technology.
The first was an invetigation into the scientfic properties of magic and ways to defend against it.
The Second was a collection of small tanks ond the behemoth to combat the immortals.
The third was for Wisp alone, He had come up with the idea as soon as he had seen the A.I.E in the corner. An Armoured Infantry Exoskelton.
www.myspace.com/didxl
sexier.younger.brother@hotmail.co.uk
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Quote:
Seryn pauses, right in the middle of their, ahem, activities, as a faint tingle pushes all the other thought out of her head.
"Um, SR? You know when you get that faint... no, make that strong, sense of forboding? Like the poop is about to hit it big time?"
"mmmrf?"
"I really think that it would be a great time to run around with a great big sign saying something like 'Whatever you are about to do DON'T DO IT!!!!!!!'"
*SR gives her a stern look, really really not caring two hoots either way*
"Oh never mind then... but I reserve the right to act like a big smug know-it-all when whoever is about to do something very stupid eventually does it"
*earns herself another (slightly strained) look from SR, and drops the subject, but is already practising the 'I told you so' dance.*
SR found himself in a terrible emotional dilemma, his entire being is focussed on Seryn and seeing to her "pleasure" and then she began to speak and suddenly he had to focus on her words. He didn't want to hear it, but it was his committed duty to listen. Her message was interesting, she had a point, though it seemed to be all intuition and speculation. He was about to do the dumb guy thing and dismiss her idea completely out of hand and yet he began to feel tingling sensation up his spine that screamed 'DANGER!!!!!!!!!' In on smooth action he spun Seryn around like a top and laid her flat upon the bed behind him, fell forward into a tumble, snatching up his cutlass and springing to his feet in front of the room's only door with his sword drawn.
The door burst open with great force and in strode a figure dressed all in armor to the sound of Aaron Copland's Fanfare for the Common Man.
"Snarky your timing leaves something to be desired, but you sure know how to make a entrance."
OOC: Seryn, I am hurt that you would think me unreceptive. 
Sorry, I posted this last night on the previous thread. I must have been tired.
Scorpion Regent
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ooc - It's not that i think you unreceptive deary (no less than i would be in the same situation!) its just it wasn't that important, I simply needed to warn Simonwho and all about the 'I told you so'chorus that I will be unable to stop myself from singing when the S*** hitteth the fan.
Ah well.
IC -
*pulls her dress back into place, but leaves her hair delightfully mussed.*
"Snarky! Who fixed you? Last time i saw you you were kinda laying on one side and twitching."
Snarky turns to reply, but she can't hear anything over the extremely loud music.
*Ducks under SR's arm*
"Does he always need a soundtrack?"
http://www.myspace.com/seryndippyt
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OoC: Trogdor the Burninator is the Project!? We're doomed....
IC:
Indeed, 13 had come into the world during troubled times.
It was bad enough that he'd lost his brethren to that black-robed woman, even worse that he'd been employed by a rather ruthless Baroness. Although neither of those could compare to being dismissed by one.
"You're firing me? After all of my dedication and reasonable fees?"
The Baroness sighed with unsheathed contempt, affixing her gaze on 13's beady, bewildered eyes.
"13, you simply don't have the edge, the qualities that we look for in our staff. You're unnecessarily polite, you're too kind to our prisoners, you have a very taxing diet..."
Cow.
"But I've served you long and well!"
She arched her eye. "Three months is long now?"
"It is when you're a professional soldier!" 13 blustered.
"And there is that. Your resume is hardly impressive. You call yourself a soldier, yet you have fought in no wars, never served anyone other than myself, and did nothing to stop that peculiar minstrel that arrived a short while ago. There is also the unsettling fact that I cannot find any proof of your existence prior to four months ago.
"Not to mention the smell."
Bitch.
13's fingers tightened on the grip of his longsword, knuckles whitening.
"Now go. You are, as of now, effectively dismissed."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
13 clawed nervously at the roaddust, scraping his talons against the dirt. He had never been fired before, and he wasn't quite sure where to find another job. He could always try to find that black-robed person, who would lead him to his brothers and sisters....
A strange smell interrupted the cross-breeds thoughts. A scent of darkness, hunger, and dead things well into rot...and, strangely, Dr. Pepper.
13 turned in the direction of the odd smell, and nearly screamed.
Four great beasts lurked before him, massive canines with bodies of shadow itself. The breath of the hounds stank of corpses and Dr. Pepper. They had no defined shape, instead twisting and warping, black flames curling from them. The air grew cold as the approached 13, and an orb of night seemed to generate around the creatures, blotting out the sun.
13 unsheathed his iron longsword and readied his shield, flicking the blade back and forth in what he hoped was a menacing pattern. A dry, rattling sound, like wind rushing through bones, echoed through the summoned night, and it was only several moments later 13 realized the monsters were laughing at him.
Two leapt at him, mouths opening impossibly wide, (likely due to their indefinite physical shape) gnashing at the birdman. 13 dropped to the ground, evading the monsters leaping attacks, simultaneously thrusting his sword into one of the thing's underbellies, having no effect.
As 13 leapt to his feet, he saw that he had been encircled by the four demonic hounds, each one rearing back to leap, jaws yawning open.
A gleaming, silver arrow pierced into the darkness, trailing daylight from its feathers, stabbing through a hound's head. The creature let out an unearthly howl, then dissipated in a burst of black and gray smoke.
Three more arrows lunged forward, each one hitting its mark. The shadow hounds were destroyed in a whirlwind of screams, and their darkness was lifted.
A black-haired, leather-armored knight came into view, gleaming shortbow slung across his back, leather quiver at his hip, and plucked each silver shaft from the earth. An octagon was sewn into the quiver.
"Name's Wil," he said. "Sir Wil, as it were. And you're 13."
"Actually, I'm only about sev-" 13's face brightened. "Oh, you mean my name."
"Yes," the archer said readily, as if talking to a child. "I think you oughta come with me."
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ooc - that Baroness is such a cow, remind me to bitchslap her at some point.
http://www.myspace.com/seryndippyt
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Sir Kei’s eye widen with glee. “Ooooo chicken pot pie…. You really must come back for the evening meal! The chicken pot pie is exceptional!”
“Oh, I know not why Her Majesty dislikes me so.” Sir Kei answers with a shrug.
”Her Majesty? I thought you said His majesty earlier.” Jadehand asks puzzled.
“Were you to but lay eyes upon her countenance, you too would be pressed to tell the difference. She has never been accused of being a fair maiden.” Sir Kei says.
“I would suspect her dislike of me stems from my besting her Champion in a joust. To be fair to him, he did have a handicap.” Sir Kei shakes his head sadly. “It is hard to joust with ones opponents’ lance protruding from ones midsection. That was my good lance too.”
__________________________________________________
"Stop doing that thing"
"What thing"
"That thing where your mouth moves and noise comes out"
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Alatariel the Lurker returned to her special lab after a grueling interview with the Empress. She kept herself busy analyzing her thoughts, looking for opinions or ideas that were obviously too correct, memories that were abnormally crystal-clear and vivid.
Those would have been the ones most recently implanted.
A half-chicken chimera brought the dark sorceress back to awareness as it bowed deeply and greeted Alatariel at the secret entrance. It clung tightly to the umbrella that was its badge of status. “Mistress! There is a problem!”
“Hello, Number Two,” Alatariel sighed. “What now?”
“It would be easiest to show you, Mistress, but there is another rebel.”
“ANOTHER ONE? Take me to it!”
The pair walked down a maze of twisty windy passages, all alike, until they arrived at a certain door. Number Two opened it. Beyond was a prison, containing a dozen cells with bars of strong iron.
Number Two was uneasy. “He just quit working on his assigned task. He said that he resigns, but he won’t tell us why.”
Alatariel considered the imprisoned half-chicken for a short time. “Very well, Number Six, what do you have to say for yourself?”
“I am not a number! I am a free man!”
The sorceress scoffed. “You are clearly not a man. At best, you are half a man and half a chicken. As to your freedom… Heh.” She ran her fingers up and down one of the stout iron bars. “Well, I think not!”
The imprisoned half-chicken crossed his arms and stared back defiantly.
Alatariel mused a bit, mild concern showing in her face. “Hmmm… This is all rather inconvenient. I thought I could trust the even-numbered ones. I can only guess that I miscalculated somewhere on your formula. Perhaps there was the potential for some kind of creeping madness that I missed. Oh well, I suppose that I just have to scrap the lot of you and begin again.” Alatariel turned to leave the prison. “Perhaps I’ll cross humans with turkeys next. Or perhaps penguins! Yes, then they would be excellent swimmers…”
Number Two gulped as it watched Alatariel leave, then it slowly looked back at the prisoner.
Number Six smiled, and slowly drew his finger across his throat. “It is about time for a new Number Two, don’t you think?”
Number Two shivered, hugged its umbrella, and departed the prison.
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