[UF] Standing on the Stacks of Giants [Closed, IC]

[The Grim Reaper]

An empty, musty, circular stone room. A flame flickered in the middle, in a bronze brazier, comfortably wedged into a blinding white chalk-brick pillar. The bricks cried tears of blood, drawing water deep from the core of Eras through a sterile, gold pipe, concealed and freely leaking into the brick under the brazier. A quirk of local geology coloured the water a deep red, with colour seeping through chiselled breaks in the chalk well.

Ten stood facing the brazier, wearing simple robes. Tied one on top of the other, meticulously according to some ancient tradition, the almost invisible ribbons of fabric hanging here and there on the ground seemed the antecedent of the opaque layering they formed. A man stood behind the brazier, making for 11, standing evenly around it at some irrational fraction of a circular angle. The man wore not robes, but a sheer black uniform - no logos, no badges, no details but a bandana.

And he removed the bandana, raising it in the air by one hand.

"Class of 2015, Augustine Academy for the Paranormal, repeat after me."

"Yes, sir."

"Ave Caesar."

"Ave Caesar."

"We, the chosen few, commit to standing in the door-frame." Affirmation.

"We stand between the Insea, and the Outsea." Affirmation.

"We hide the Masquerade so that we may reveal its secrets." Affirmation.

"In the name of our Divine Father, Caesar Felix Albinus Augustus, Avatar of War, who created us from everything," Affirmation.

"and the name of our Divine Mother, Pax, God of Peace, who created everything from nothing." Affirmation.

"We, the chosen few," Affirmation.

The speaker raised his right hand.

"the Companions, devoted to war and Imperator," and half affirmed.

The speaker raised his left hand.

"and the Vestal Virgins, devoted to peace and Imperium," and the other half affirmed.

"are devoted now to the land between everything and nothing, such that we may secure, contain, and protect our faith from the faithful." The two halves affirmed.

"Ave Caesar." Affirmation.

"Decane Iulia Aquilia Severa, and Decane Marcus Licinius Crassus, step forward. You have both proven yourselves the best amongst equals. Decane Iulia Aquilia Severa, with the knife on the pedestal before you, draw blood from your tongue and cast it into the Eternal Flame."

Iulia stepped forward, her head hung low. The blood of a Vestal Virgin is considered to be sanctified within Imperium. To draw the blood of a Vestal Virgin is to commit treason. Their role, simply, is to defend the sanctity of the Imperial hearth, the lifeblood of the Palace. They do so by tending it, such that it remains eternal – having burned continuously almost for as long as the Augustus Dynasty has ruled. They also do so by taking up arms against intruders, cognizant of the sanctity of their own body.

This symbolic treason is to abandon Caesar for the Outsea, a world with rules, and faiths that sit outside everything that Imperium has fought for. On the other side of the Masquerade. At the age of 25, she, and her fellow Vestal Virgins and Companions, have served since the age of 13, at the Augustine School of War and Peace, before being assigned to an Academy. Selectively chosen for an exceptional mental and physical aptitude, the PIT field candidates number just 10 each year. A single Taberna, with two Decanes to lead each Pentacle of 5.

As blood flowed freely, she cast it into the flame. It caused a sputtering in the flames, as the blood cast down into the sputtering tinder, lit from the Imperial hearth.

"Decane Marcus Licinius Crassus, with the knife that has drawn blood, draw spit from your tongue and cast it into the Eternal Flame."

Marcus stepped forward, his head hung low. The saliva of a Companion is considered to be sanctified within Imperium. To disobey the orders of a Companion is to commit treason. Their role, simply, is to maintain the gardens and exterior of the Palace. They do so by tending it, such that it remains eternal – having been tended continuously almost for as long as the Augustus Dynasty has ruled. They also do so by taking up arms against intruders, cognizant of the sanctity of their own voice.

As spit intermingled with the blood on the knife, he cast it into the flame. It caused a sputtering in the flames, as the spit cast down into the rose cuttings, taken from the Palace gardens.

"Decanes, today you turn your back on the world you once served, and look through the Masquerade. Tomorrow, you will be the Masquerade. The mask that stands between the Insea and the Outsea.

From now on, you do not talk of magic and the supernatural. When your peers talk of the shadows that knock on the door at night, you are the door.

Ave Masquerade."

"Ave Masquerade."

"You shall not speak of yourselves again. You speak of the Insea, and the Outsea. Do this in the name of Caesar, and he shall pass Judgement on your enemies in your name. Others may speak of the Masquerade, but you will not.

Paranormal Investigations Tribunal, Handle Taberna 2015, at ease."

As one voice, the two Decanes spoke.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Praefect Fabius Ennius Albinus." Affirmation.

---

Handle Taberna 2015
Inaugurated by Praefect Fabius Ennius Albinus​

Alpha Pentacle (A2015)

Commander -

Decane Iulia Aquilia Severa
Materials Science (Xenocrystallography)

Legionnaires -

Discene Valeria Messalina Caligula
Political Science (Xenonational Affairs)
Juris Doctor (Xenonational Law)

Discene Annia Galeria Lucilla
Xenopsychology (Behavioural Xenoneuroscience)

Discene Livia Drusilla Tiberius
Xenomedicine (Xenopharmacology)

Discene Domitia Decidiana Agricola
Military Science (Military Intelligence)

Omega Pentacle (O2015)

Commander -

Decane Marcus Licinius Crassus
Criminology (Xenosociological Positivism)

Legionnaires -

Discene Quintus Gargilius Martialis
Xenobiology (Xenophysiology)

Discene Herennius Baetica Senecio
Statistics (Inferential Statistics)

Discene Lucius Cassius Dio
Linguistics (Historical Xenolinguistics)

Discene Thascius Caecilius Cyprianus
Theology (Paxcism)

 

[The Grim Reaper]

The Unseelie Accords
Briefing​

Operatives: 2A2015
Office of the Praefect
Wilhelm Keys Complex

It was a deceptively discrete office, for a deceptively discrete organization. A modern, minimalist desk - sleek, laminated pine on sturdy steel legs. A pricy laminate curtain concealed the entire front of the desk, offering the user some modicum of privacy. The chair facing it - and presumably, the one tucked behind it - was a proper office chair. Cushioned seat, with a comfortable back. Leather-skinned plush, nice canvassing on the rear.

A cup of coffee was not unwelcome. It was generally an unpopular drink, but certain front-facing officials had started to partake in it. Especially those who could afford an artisan barista on staff, as could Praefect Fabius Ennius Albinus. He was, of course, a member of the incalculably prestigious Albinus family, which had produced Latin Imperators since time immemorial. A distant relative to the Imperator.

He was a balding man, perhaps a little more portly than a man with his muscle had any right to be. Of a rather impressive height, the man embodied the mythic proportions of some of the early Imperators - although, perhaps, with a distinctly less legendary hairline. Indeed, his greying hair would look a great deal more imposing had it been shaved to the skin. However, that was a choice it could, apparently, make for itself. One would not be entirely wrong in thinking that this failure to embrace an altogether more intimidating style was a conscious decision. Indeed, his formal attire was relatively conservative. It did not utilize the deep black of Imperium's nobility, nor the red clothing of its upper classes. Instead, it was a navy blue, on a pale white shirt.

And, for the most part, it was an appropriate choice. This was not a man who had to manage the political ambitions of underlings, or command an incalcitrant mob of conscripts. No - PIT was not a place for those who could not find their place without political wheelerdealing. The Praefect took his position by virtue of his blood - blood as old as the very idea of Empires. His subordinates took their position by virtue of their spirits.

One of them was Discene Valeria Messalina Caligula. She held a Licentiate's in Xenonational Law, and a Bachelor's in Xenonational Affairs. Or international affairs, if anyone on the Praefect's side of the Masquerade was asking. Possibly the brightest mind in the Handle Taberna 2015, hence why she took the prestigious second place in her Pentacle - she had to be, to complete a Licentiate level course in what little time had been available to her. It was a path she was dedicated to, even if the rigors of the extended course cost her what would have otherwise been a certain appointment as Decane. The Praefect couldn't blame her - she was made for the world of law, even if the world of lawyers left a notable distaste in her mouth. The laws and nations of the Nevernever would, no doubt, appeal to her rather unorthodox heart.

Valeria took her seat, surprisingly comfortable in the presence of a man who some would say was related to the very manifestation of War.

Certainly, she was a true believer in the tenets of Imperial Paxcism.

She just didn't particularly care about them. Why would she?

By all accounts, she was someone entirely suited to work under the Imperial family. Otherwise, she would not be working for an organization so important that its very existence was a secret. Self-esteem was not her weak point, and what little of it was true arrogance was well-deserved regardless.

"Good morning, Praefect."

"Good morning, Discene."

Valeria adjusted her brilliant blonde hair. Of all the members of PIT, she was by far the one who took the most care of her appearance. Like almost all Vestal Virgins and Companions, she was fairly attractive in her own right - but Valeria in particular had a particularly piercing aura to her. To look at her...you'd wonder if she could fit in even in the Nevernever, with hair that shone like sugarwork and green eyes that practically glowed with ambition, or poison. Two words for much the same thing, really - just directed away from, and towards, respectively, the beholder.

"You received my memorandum?"

"Of course, Praefect."

The Unseelie Accords Memorandum. The first Memorandum to the new Taberna. It was somewhat unusual for a new Taberna to be undertaking such a prominent operation, in Nevernever terms, and unheard of for a first-timer to be doing such an operation alone. Well, at least she'd be able to recount weird and wonderful experiences, first-hand, to her untested Taberna. A well-deserved ego boost for a person who had proven herself capable of directing her ego in productive directions.

"Unseelie Accords. Simple stuff - we're not expected to contribute all that much directly, given that we're probably the only non-magical emissaries. Don't know of any other Insea who'd be present. All you need to do is shake hands and make friends, act as an observer and a witness, and take notes for your Taberna. We're sending you instead of the prior Taberna, because this is a perfect time for you to acclimatize yourself with the Outsea. If it comes to it, you're well-equipped to jump off what you already know to offer up commentary on what's being brought to the table. Don't step on any toes, don't burn bridges, don't put us, or yourself, at undue risk.

You're a first-timer, we don't expect you to be the hero. We have...very little to lose here, besides you."

"Of course, Praefect."

 

[The Grim Reaper]

The Unseelie Accords
Departure​

Operatives: 2A2015
The Gate
Wilhelm Keys Complex

Discene Valeria Messalina Caligula sat calmly on the flimsy plastic chair that had been set out for her, as a PIT Threshold Taberna stripped down to pants and singlets. Steam filled the room as one of them rolled a small handle around a reel, locking into a huge clockwork mechanism that opened an immense, free-standing metal sliding door. Inside it, an encased wooden door, altogether less imposing, but just as mysterious.

Carvings decorated its frame, and its ancient iron bindings and furnishings would not have looked out of place in a well-to-do church. Its frame, while free-standing and flimsy in appearance, was clearly bolted to the ground, and occasionally made pretenses as to embrace the brass piping concealed within. Embedded in that frame, a collection of gem mosaics and painted-on runes glowed lightly as steam condensed on their surface, water dripping from the cracks.

The Gate was only one room in the immense Vault, but the entire Vault was encompassed by a pricy Faraday cage, isolating the fragile magical equipment and artefacts within from the electromagnetism and surveillance of the modern world. The only crack in the armour was a costly mechanical box, containing an electronic detector without the capacity to transmit, lined with a complex, hand-woven lead silk cloth, creating a flexible, double-layered extension to the Faraday cage that could be exposed to the Vault in case of suspected contamination. And so the Gate could not be powered with electricity.

Instead, water was pumped deep into the core of the Earth, forced into brass pipes heading into hot beds of rock, until they boiled, coming up on the other side of the u-bend. The resulting steam was injected into the magical doorframe, of purloined artefacts from various origins and ages, powering the hacked-together portal with sheer force.

On the other end, a powerful magical node at the PIT Forward Operating Base kept the portal open, forcing magical energy through the connection initiated by the hard work of PIT Threshold. The Gate burst into life, as the water stopped leaking from the frame. The magical energy pushed from the FOB quickly sealed the patchwork magical mosaic, as the clockwork gears used by Threshold suddenly froze up - the water in the pipes spontaneously boiling over as magic surged through them, stopping at a filter at the injection pump.

"Discene, we've hit freeze-up." The so-called 'freeze-up' phenomenon, while somewhat annoying to deal with, and a bit of a jolt for the wrist, was an ample alert that the Gate was ready to go. Like clockwork, one could say.

"Very well - thank you, Decane." Valeria stood up, one hand behind her back, and the other held out to offer a firm handshake. The Threshold Decane took her hand politely, returning the handshake. A woman walked forward, having passed an iron rod through the portal and back. "Decane, Discene, clear for a porting."

The three bowed their heads, and Valeria briskly walked towards the Gate, as a Threshold Discene opened the door from the other side - revealing a shimmering mirage of a reflection inside the doorframe. Without hesitation, Valeria smiled at the other Discene through the curtain, and made contact with it, creating it a brilliant white opaque silhouette.

 

[The Grim Reaper]

The Pumice God
Planning​

Operatives: 1A2015, 2A2015, 5A2015, 3O2015
The Common Room
Wilhelm Keys Complex

It'd not been long since Valeria got back from the Unseelie Accords. She'd been...coy, about what had gone on. Ultimately, most of the affair was between her, and her debriefing report. The rest of the Taberna had been rather disappointed - this was their first mission abroad, and Valeria was playing mum. But, what she did tell them awed them. A world where the dull, dead crystal they'd seen was not commonplace - because it was but trash in the face of the glistening glass towers that Valeria recounted. A world whose inhabitants were shocked and awed by the simple fact that there was no magic in other worlds.

And, most amazingly, that that world was just across the waters. Wilhelm Keys was south of Alba Longa - closer, in fact, to Silly String than Alba Longa was. They all knew that Silly String had magic available to it, but Valeria was the only one who had studied the matter in any depth. But even Valeria had not expected to meet one of the secretive Sillish magic-users in the flesh. Much less to get his contact details.

She'd tried to send him a postcard from Wilhelm Keys, but Imperium's postal service was near-mythical for its paternalistic bent. She'd stopped herself at the last minute, assuming quite correctly that even sending a blank piece of paper would tell the postal workers all too much. She'd considered sending him an e-mail, but the internet connection at Wilhelm Keys was run through a proxy - and not a particularly good one, unless one could get official dispensation to use their academic connection. A text e-mail would still work through that proxy, of course, but it was heavily monitored. She'd rather not share her personal life with everyone in her chain of command.

But that was besides the point.

The rest of the Tab (a clever shortening for Taberna) had been eager to hear about this new man. The two Pentacles - of men and women - chuckled affably as they discussed how strange his life must be. To understand something about other Sillish that even they did not know. To live in a world that, simultaneously, he was not part of, and an intrinsic part of. Well, that was perhaps rather deep - those who had a rudimentary understanding of philosophy, and a less rudimentary interest of philosophy, managed to garner some interest for the topic, but for the most part, they discussed everything from his dress, to his mannerisms.

Imagine it! A real Sillish! Some said that even Caesar longed for stays in Silly String. And even the poorest children in Silly String...well, live in Silly String. It was the island chain to which some of the best produce in Imperium was sent (after Caesar had his share), some of its best wine.

Some of its best roes. What Livia wouldn't give for another taste of the fish roe that her father exported to Silly String. When she was just turned 13, ready to join the Divine Service, she received as a gift a tin of his very best. She received an amicable verbal lashing from Lucius, one of the wittier members of the Taberna, which she returned by pointing out his unbecoming interest in Kowane's colour scheme. How unbecoming of a military man to hmm and hum over well-matched socks, no?

And then Iulia walked in.

She was not a particularly bad boss, and a good comrade. A real hero of a woman when it came to the battlefield, but surprisingly meek off it. She carried in her hand a little folder. Valeria recognized it immediately, as one of the fancy folders the Praefect preferred. It was, however, the wrong colour - the one she had seen was a pale pink, for briefings. This seemed to be the same colour as the mailbags - a fetching beige. Well, not fetching. Slimming. If she were wearing the folder, she would lose pounds instantly.

Iulia cleared her throat - less to get attention than to clear the hanging taste of toothpaste in her mouth. Ah, Whitespear toothpaste. Imperium's favourite toothpaste. Because it was dirt cheap, and standard issue literally anywhere that wanted to get tax breaks or government contracts. Hotels, the services, even complimentary gift-baskets. Plenty of room for innovation, as long as you used the Whitespear brand and base. It hung like the spectre of the Grim Reaper himself - the running joke was that it helped to keep you hydrated, because you'd drink your daily requirement getting the taste out.

But anyway, everyone was already listening. There would be plenty of time to discuss Kowane, once Iulia's occasional courage died down, and she trailed off slightly, in that ever-so endearing manner. What she read was...well, confusing. It was something regarding a - 'Pumice Golem'? Thascius objected to the use of the apparently misheard phrase, his invented 'Pumice God', as being foreign propaganda, at which point the phrase was taken up with glee. He tried to hide his smile, as the Taberna realised, all too late, that he was playing off a clever satire of his own extreme views on religion. And they'd just given him an excuse to pretend to be angry at them for the rest of the week.

By the end of the letter, everyone was lost short of Herennius. Besides Iulia herself, and Livia, none had even tried to comprehend projections into the fourth-dimension. Herennius did relatively well, given his fairly capable grasp of mathematics, but confirmed everyone's suspicions when he pointed out that the general methodology used to create the ...'Pumice God'... was entirely irrelevant to the issue at hand. Which was to find it, and place it back in control of the Mycorrhizal Union.

The obvious representative of Imperium at the conference was Iulia. That being said, the equally obvious representative was Herennius. The less obvious, but equally petulant Domitia put herself forward as a candidate for the mission.

In the end, it was decided that the entire matter was entirely irrelevant, as whoever was sent would be able to contact PIT for advice and information. So, the new obvious representative was, well, Valeria. She was the only one who had ever been behind the veil, and while they were doing things solo, there was no reason for that to change. Particularly if she was to liason with foreign nationals - she was the most heavily educated member of PIT, and therefore the best to liase between PIT's technical experts and those others at the conference. In addition, she'd be the best to...well, broker the necessary agreements.

And Valeria really, really wanted an excuse to talk to Kowane again. She really needed to step back from her co-workers for once.

It was settled. Valeria would form the field component of the Working Pentacle. Behind her, she'd have Iulia heading up the command component, as the resident xenocrystallographer. Herennius would accompany her, as a statistician with a strong grasp of theoretical mathematics (as experimental mathematics is statistics), and Domitia would act as the field-command liason, as an intelligence and military scientist - her knowledge of strategic planning and intelligence gathering would help should the Pumice God need to be tracked in any of the four dimensions.

Well, the first three. Herennius was, uncontroversially, given responsibility for the remaining one.

And, just like that, Valeria got her academic VPN access.

She shot off a quick e-mail to Kowane, taking his contact details off her phone.

From: ValeriaC@WilhelmKeys.gov.edu.aug
To: Kowane [Attached Device Contact Book]
Subject: Formal Request for International Cooperation

Good evening sir/ma'am,

This is a formal request for your participation in an international operation, in cooperation with an August government body. Please hold this message in confidence. If you are not the intended recipient of this message, please stop reading, and inform the sender of this message. Please do not contact the intended recipient directly.

The August government body - Wilhelm Keys Complex - would like to request that you take advantage of an offer of expedited transport to the Wilhelm Keys Complex, to participate in an extended field operation alongside service Valeria Caligula, who is an agent of the Divine Service.

Valeria Caligula has attached the following personal request -

"Travelling alone, could use the company. Don't worry, we'll take care of anything complicated - I don't have a clue what we're heading into either. Something about pumice and a golem. Going along to help coordinate the squad, couldn't agree who to send so I'm going to pretend to be three people ."