The words roll over Shiver calling out in every language he knows and many that he doesn't. He mourns for those who feel lost and forced to justify their actions. Every step from beginning to end had a script which they never understood in life or death.

There may be many here that look upon with the need for revenge taken from them in life, but the aging troll hoped they would not get their chance.

"Mistress, it would appear that your touch reaches out even after mortal breath has ceased. As does the caress of your sister, Aponoia."

Questers

You all watch as Moira breaks into tears and creature of mist and smoke seems to writhe in response.

Moira

Charlie's face shows open pain and concern. "I don't understand...." His voice carries tones of confusion and worry. "You're not dead?" His eyes plead with you to bring reason to all of this.

Bakatare moves, pulling himself out of his own jaded curiosity at the effects to stand close enough to provide whatever support his presence can to his friend in an obvious moment of suffering.

:: Moira breaths through the tears counting to ten as she regains control. Her heart aches at her husbands words, but his concern and love remind her why she mourns his passing so greatly. Wiping her face dry, for the moment, she steps close and reaches to touch his face. ::

"No, I am not. When you and...when the attack happened, I was spared. You have no idea how many times I wished I hadn't. I would give anything to go back to the way we were..."

:: Moira casts a look to Bakatare and then to the others behind her. ::

"I know you never really understood the magic in my life, but that is what brought me here. This is the first time I have made a journey deep into the astral since I was with that terrible group, and for reason's we cannot explain, something went wrong. This isn't where we were supposed to be. All we know is for us to find our way back, each of us has had to undergo a personal trial linked to one of these god-realms. My trial is here."

Questers

You watch as Moira pulls herself togther and talks to who or whatever has manifested here. You can still hear the many whispered voices all around you. She seems to listen to the spirit then motion for you to follow her. She movesin the wake of the wraith as it moves deeper into the grey fog.

Moira

Charlie's face seems to grow heavy with renewed pain. "I......had thought we would be together again but I guess not." He seems to struggle with this for a moment before speaking again. "I will try to help you if I can. If you're looking for the way to where I........exist then follow me." Once again he begins to reach out to you, as if to take your hand but catches himself and returns his hand to his side. He turns and begins to walk into the grey expanse.

"Interesting situation we seem to have gotten into," Havoc says to Aaron. "What do you want to do? Check out the bodies?"

"The time will come when we will be a family again."

:: There was so much more Moira wanted to say, but it refused to come out. Perhaps it was something that just didn't need to be said. Following behind the vision of her beloved, she leads the group through the haze. ::

Aaron nodded at Havoc and hefted the LMG. Between the weapon and the satchel of ammo it was a load but Aaron always preferred to think of it as comforting rather than ackward.

"Lets do it. I'd also like to find a good site to occupy so I can put this thing down and then do a fast recon of the area." The Elf glanced over at the rigger's van, and added, "Unless our host can provide a detailed vidscan of the area which would obviate the need for a physical recon. I'll have to ask."

"Lemme check."
Murrey pulls a spare OMC from his pocket and slots it into his remote deck. After a moment it ejects and he hands it over.
"Here you go chummer, though I won't be offended if you want to no over it yourself. It takes some practice getting used to drone telemetry with a gatural oblongata."

Questers

The journey through the grey seems to last only a few moments before you find yourself walking along an empty street and the voices have all gone silent. With a start you realize that you are walking along the streets of downtown Seattle. You feel displaced by the lack of people and noise. The store fronts are lit up and opened for business but the aisles are empty. The traffic lights still go through their rotation of green, yellow and red. Moira continues to follow in the wake of the restless dead. She stops and once again you hear the mournful sighs from the spirit. After a moment it turns and fades from sight.

Moira

Charlie guides you down the familiar streets of Seattle. He seems to stop at odd places until you realize he is stopping at places you've been. He seems to take time to savor the echoes of life. He yearns for something, you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. The want seems to roll off of him like waves of heat hanging in the air. He finally stops at an intersection and turns to face you.

"I can go no further. You are here in the realms of the dead. Be careful I have met the woman who brought me here and she is a complex creature. We all understand the laws here but I have no memory of learning them. Much of this place is like that. This place is dead and the dead are tied to it."

He turns to walk away and blends away into the air around him.

Bakatare shivers in the dead mock Seattle, tightening his grip on his staff and stepping forward to stand next to Moira.

"If this truly is the realm of the dead, you'll see them again. If it is not, then it was simply a figment."

His voice seems to be filled with all of the comfort he can offer at the moment.

:: Moira takes a step after Charlie as he turns, but stops as he fades away. Surprising to herself, she finds anger boiling up from deep within her, and she turns, eyes focused beyond her companions as her fists clench. Her voice rings loud and almost shrill as she calls out. ::

"Teluthe, I am here!"

Stepping into the land of the dead, Angelina shivered as she surveyed the bleak scene. "This place is....dead." she commented, stating the obvious. She started as Moria offered her bold challenge to the keeper of this place. Perhaps she would be better sticking to the deadness. But then again, if they didn't confront the keeper, they would never proceed. And she wasn't keen on staying here forever.

Each step along the streets of this Quasi-Seattle, brought different memories to Shiver. If they truly walked the paths of the dead, then it may still be possible to find Bishop here. But this was a journey, Man was only meant to make once and there could be no telling what changes took place in crossing the threshold. Even standing in this realm in their full vitality may be causing a change to those he was sworn to protect.

Moira's challenge reminded the aging troll of his own demands in Potmos' realm. Her's though was a much bolder choice.

He spread his perceptions out as much as he could, with no expectation to find Death before she found them, but perhaps the other things that lurked in the mist were not as dead as they appeared.

Questers

Moira's cry seems to echo off the buildings and streets around you. The whole city seems to hold its breath in its wake. You feel more than anything else something drawing near. It seems to move across your skin like a small insect. You feel a pressure build within you, a sensation of dread and excitement grips you as it draws closer still. The tension seems to snap and dissipate as a sound tumbles through the stillness, the sound of a store front door opening. You turn to see a woman walking across the street to stand near Moira.

Shiver

From a small coffee shop on the corner you see a woman emerge from the back. She appears young perhaps in her mid-twenties. She is dressed in a pair of jeans and a grey tank top. Her hair is a blue black and the bob cut hugs the sides of her face. A small tattoo rests under her left eye of a single tear. As she leaves the coffee bar you catch her voice at the edge of your hearing.

"..always so eager little sister.."


Moira

The woman moves with a subtle grace, of someone long acustomed to their body and its moods. You catch the faint scent of lillies and roses as she stops a few feet from you. Her eyes seems oddly human after all the others you've met. Nothing of her speaks of the supernatural or the heavy power that seemed to rest in them all.

"There's no need to shout and please calm down. I try not to distrub the dead, they've earned their rest."

:: To Moira, Death was always a dark, mean and viscious beast, not this unassuming, respectful young woman. She had prepared to face the demon which haunted her dreams and was thrown off balance when reality greeted her nightmare. ::

"I..forgive me. I did not mean to..."

Hefting his rifle with one arm and sipping tea with the other, Havoc stands. "Well, I'll go check out those bodies. You coming, Aaron? Or is that piece of hardware to heavy for you to tote around?" He says the last part with a smile so the elf knows he's only joking.

"Wind you match out for fail safe devices."

Questers

Teleute looks past Moira giving each person a nod or smile as she looks them over. "You are meant to know this place only once so no offense taken. Since none of you are true dead I am going to assume you arrived here by way of the Gallery?" She looks back to Moira as she speaks.

Outside

You move some distance off into the pre-dawn gloom you quickly see a pile of corpses stacked in a line. There appears to be six in total. Each one died from obvious wounds - bullet holes, deep slashes and large burns perhaps from explosives. All male and wearing what look to be full bodysuits. Each body also has some sort of harness system designed to carry various weapons and gear.

"Seems like a typical hit team," Havoc observes. "I wonder if they had magical support?"

:: Moira nods. ::

"That is correct. We have each had a trial through the realms of your peers and this is the final step before we can return to our world once more. Will you grant us leave?"

Questers

A look of regret passes over her features. She moves to place herself amongst the group. "I am the divider of the living from all that has come before, and all that must come after but to leave my realm requires the blessing of the dead. I bring the dead here but I do not return them to the world. You will need to seek one here to return." Her voice drifts as if distracted as she looks at Angelina. She moves closer to her and rests her hand on her shoulder, as if greeting an old friend. "You remind me of my brother..." Her voice seems wistful and carries an undertone of loss. "Thank you for bringing something of him here. I have not seen him for some time.." She absently brushes a tear from her face as she removes her hand. Seeming to regain her focus she turns back to Moira. "You will need to find one who carries your linage, whose blood is as your own. I can open a way to that soul if you wish."

:: Moira's heart skips a beat. After experiencing the trials of her companions, and watching the prices they each had to pay, she should have expected her own would be so difficult. It was strange for her, she wanted nothing more in the world to see her son again, but was so afraid that the pain she had been suppressing would well up and consume her entirely. With a glance back at Bakatare and the others, she comes to terms with the fact that she has no choice in the matter. It was time for her to pay her fare for this ride into madness. ::

"If you would, please...."

"None that I saw. Onna bite me able to answer that better than I."

Listening to Teluthe's comment, Bakatare glances between Angelina and Shiver, curiosity waging war with common sense regarding the mystery presented.

He turns his attention back to Moira as she speaks, already dreading what new anguish would be inflicted on both her. She never spoke of a family or husband before, which wasn't unusual in the 'shadows. That they were in the land of the dead, and obviously in a way which did not leave her peaceful about their passing, was new information, however.

Questers

She nods and gestures for the group to follow her as she begins to walk down the street. As you move you begin to hear distant sounds of the city - cars, voices talking, the clink of metal and glass. You begin to catch images at the edges of your vision - of people and movement. She leads you down the main streets for several minutes before moving down an alley. She walks up to an emergency exit door in the back of an office building.

"This is the entrance we need."

She opens the door and a blast of heat washes over you. She seems startled by it as she moves to shield herself from the waves of hot air that seem to emanate from the open door. A thick smell of ash and burnt wood are carried along the air. You are soon drenched in sweat from the heat. As she looks to Moira her face is worried.

"The soul you need to pass through this realm is waiting inside but he is not at rest. Be careful, he may strike out at you and try not to linger too long with him. The restless dead create for themselves their own personal hells, stay too long and you risk becoming trapped with him. Remember to stay focused on your goal. Good luck."

She looks to you all and gestures to enter.

Havoc

As you look over the bodies, taking the time to note any small details, you begin to see a pattern. All of them are Japanese and each bears a small tattoo somewhere on their bodies. The tattoo is the single name Ito. They also appear to be have all undergone modification. You can see signs of old surgical scars, you assume bio and cyberware. All their gear bears a stylized mark - something that seems to resemble the name of the clan but with minor differences. Each person's gear is marked with a slightly different mark.

:: The blast of heat paralyzes Moira. Instantly she is back in the alley, the clear night sky hanging menacingly over head as the staccato pop pop pop of automatic rifles fills the air. Her son Johnny holds tight to his parents hands as the trio is hurried through the shadows and debris by a large troll. An explosion errupts in a dumpster only feet from them, sending the three sprawling to the ground, coated in soot and spinters. Fear hits her causing her lungs to sieze. John..where is Johnny...the smoke and chaos make it impossible to see anything. Rubbing them frantically, the stinging barely noticable in her panic. There he is...thank god...Charlie has him. Large hands lift her from the ground, blocking her vision for a moment. Who is that behind them? Oh god...move. Please move. Fire...so much fire. Her screams are ear shattering. ::

:: She can't move, can't think. The pain never goes away. Never lessens. This should be her hell, not Johnny's. She deserved this fate, not her beautiful innocent boy. The guilt and shame and terror which have been slowly consuming her for years seems to have left nothing behind. ::

:: Unknown to her...she whispers repeatedly to herself. ::

"my fault...my fault...my fault....my fault...."

With a look to the others to follow behind him, Shiver moves forward to stand behind Moira.

"Little daughter, I don't know what demons you see but we must move forward. This is the trial you must face, nothing that has passed lays blame at your feet. You have simply walked the course which fate has laid before you. The pain you carry should be for the memory of those fate did not continue along the same path not a personal desire to have changed the outcome of previous events."

Placing his hands upon her shoulders, the aging troll uses the mass and musculature which caused him his own hidden pain to guide Moira the first few steps into the building.

"Events from our past, lay the groundwork for the future. Your loss was by Necessity, so that you could take this step now. Come little daughter, let us face your demons and I will see you safely to the other side."

:: Shiver's hands, so like those that pulled her from that terrible scene years in the past, break through her trance enough to bring her back to the present but little of the serenity and kindly calm characteristics of the Moon Shaman seem to be present. Shaking with overwhelming emotion, she clings to the troll's impressive form as they take the steps together. Slowly a resignation replaces the terror as she succumbs to his words. They were true, this was a necessity. ::

:: She had little choice to face her own demons as had Shiver and the others, and perhaps, regardless of the depths of pain this reunion would cause her, there could be light at the end. The warnings of the mistress of this dark realm had mentioned a soul in torment. Beyond everything that had happened, to think of her angel spending eternity in a restless hell..... she had to do something. She didn't know how..but maybe she could bring peace to her and her son's broken souls. ::

:: Her need for physical support lessens, but the emotional strength offered to her is instrumental in helping her regaining enough composure to continue forward into the dark and smokey building. ::

Questers

As you enter the door you are surprised by the scene that greets you. You step into an alleyway. One end of it seems to have been swallowed by fire. You watch as the flames lick out and heat the air almost to the point of ignition. Your eyes water from the air and the light. You hear the thin strained screaming of a child, it rises and falls as the flames pulse and writhe. You strain to find the source of the screams and soon discover to your horror that the small sun at the end of the alley holds a small boy.

:: Moira's heart is filled with anguish as she watches the continued horror of her son's eternity. Slowly and carefully, she moves down the hallway, fighting the desire to run from the fire. With each step, the more the fire burns, the deeper her resolve to continue forward until she either reaches her son, or joins him in this firey hell. ::

"Mommy's coming....."

Questers

You watch as Moira begins to move down the alleyway towards the fire enshrouded boy. At first he doesn't seem to notice until she peaks. At the sound of her voice he heads whips around and he seems to notice all of you at that moment. The flames seem tied to him as they grow in intensity and purpose. You watch in horror as the tendrils of fire begin to lash down the narrow passage towards you.

Moira

You call down to your son as you move closer, you feel the heat blister across your face and arms. The sweat seems to evaporate on your forehead from the raging heat. Your heart breaks when he turns to face you, all sanity has been bleed from his eyes. He seems to see you and a murderous rage builds in him.

"NO! NO! NO! You left me to die, you didn't stop the pain. It never stops!"

"Lok's like these guys have some sort of clan or cult thing going here," Havoc remarks to Aaron as he shows him the tattoos and markings. "Seems to match up with what our hosts were telling us."

Havoc had never been much of an investigator, much more on the "busting-heads" side of the Star, but this stuff really had his cop-sense tingling.

Fire lashes out, flames seemingly driven by the rage of Moira's fallen son. With a slow exhalation, Shiver tries to time his movements to match the maelstrom.

Stepping into an intricate dance, the black scales on his neck and face dully reflect back the light bringing out highlights of the deepest blue and purple to augment the orange glow of the flames.

Shiver stayed near his small ward, choosing to stay by her side during this trial. Though he yearned to be near the fragment of his mistress, this was Moira's time and she would need to withstand this place.

Bakatare tried to move and stumbled, the normal lack of physical dexterity he evidenced reminding him again of why he usually chose to levitate places. Miraculously, the stumble seems to push him aside at just the proper moment to avoid the flames.

Aaron examined the tats the other runner directed him too and came to a similar conclusion.

"What that means to me is the opposition is going to have a lot of bodies to throw at us and is probably going to be pretty well organized. The front line troops aren't likely to break under fire if they are filled with fanatical zeal from a cult or know that their families will suffer if they demonstrate cowardice. Either way we can't plan on intimidating the opposing force into quiting the field."

Aaron had dealt with fanatics before as part of his bodyguarding, and knew that they were some of the worst threats to deal with. Most zealots didn't mind dying if it would serve their Cause. Which meant they'd swallow the bomb and walk into a crowded kindergarten class if that's what it took to kill their target, and they'd do it with a smile. Frag, he hated dealing with people like that.

"I'm going to set up my LMG and then check my fields of fire so we can co-ordinate our areas of coverage. I'm guessing this gets ugly."

"I am really hating this terrain," Havoc remarks. "You tell me where a good place to set up is and I'll go there. Maybe we can set up a foxhole or two and pile up some logs for cover. I just wish we knew how much time we had. We shouldn't be staying here if the opposition knows where we are."

"Well, I'm all for digging in, but seeing as how we're guests here and this is a very holy place to someone on a higher pay dade than us, I'd say grigging holes, moving those we're to watch over for now, or unnecessarily mussing the place up is right out."

Dodging the flames, Angelina didn't back down. Though this was Moria's time to confront her past, she could still attemptto make the task a little easier. Weaving a spell, she placed a protective barrier between the child and the group. Hopefully they'd be able to interact without harm.

Questers

The air is filled with the crackling of fire as its tendrils lash around you. You watch your companions take steps to avoid lasting harm. Waves of mana wash over the area as various people quickly gathered the flows and weave various enchantments. The assualt abruptly stops as a pale glowing wall is erected between you and the heart of the flames. You watch as the fire rolls across the barrier seeking a way through. You hear the screams of the boy trapped on the other side grow in intensity and madness, his howls of pain and rage make your skin crawl.

Hiroto sat quietly, drinking his tea, watching the new people scurry around investigating the scene. Some people are in such a hurry sometimes.

He glanced over at Onna she still showed worry on her face, despite her best efforts to cover it up. Wish the others would return soon, something terrible has happened.

Questers

Shiver & Bakatare
You feel a wave of anger and rage pass into you. You can feel it began to build inside of you, the pressure seems to build beind your eyes and in your lungs as the hate and fear grows. You find the strength within yourself to push the feelings out and away but you can still feel the lingering heat in your blood.

Moira & Angelina
You feel a surge of feelings that you know are alien and not your own. A rage fills your chest and sings through your veins. You feel it claw its way through your body and build in your blood. You watch in shock as burns begins to appear along your skin and smoke leaks from mouth, you smell the scent of your own flesh cooking.

Outside
The day continues to creep into the sky as the sun rises. It's strange to hear the wildlife around you replace the usual drone and hum of the city waking. Onna banks the fire and removes several packets of food from the bag at her side. She careful wraps some pork buns in foil and begins to heat them in the coals at the edge of the fire. The two new additions to the group seem to have created a defensible perimeter and remain alert.

Bakatare snarled internally, squashing the emotions down and away, letting the flow of mana gather around him as he reached out. Fire or no fire, child or no child, he wasn't about to let Moira die, here, now, after everything they'd been through.

This anger was not his, Shiver could feel the youth and vigor as it tore into him. Now was not the time for such feelings, when the feeling was his own, he would indulge in it but now it was another trial to be endured, another price to pay for the path upon which he walked.

He taught his pupils to break line of sight in their hunts for many of the dangers in the sixth world had to only see their prey to kill. Now was time for him to do the same.

Shedding his coat as he moved forward, he silently whispered a prayer to his ancestors that they watch over him as the flames boiled up on all sides. Without the barrier to protect them, he had planned to protect Angelina with the material which resisted both magical and mundane flame. Now he hoped only to keep the child from seeing their group.

Moira would withstand the trial, she must or the path would end here. His duty was to keep them safe, see them safely from this world to the next.

Raising his arms, Shiver let the coat billow out and hang before him blocking the child's sight as best he could.

He would hold this line, withstand the flames, for love and duty.

Questers

As Shiver moves forward and spread his coat out from his body, you hear the wail of frustration and choked anger come form behind the barrier. You watch as Moira moves forward her hand outstretched to the child writhing in the inferno. You begin to hear her voice singing a children's nursery rhyme, the song seems to enfold her and sustain her. A faint luminance springs up around her body and she pushed herself through the barrier of mana, her face is set and tears flow freely down her cheeks. You watch as she nears the boy when he looks up at screams.

Moira

As you match the flows of mana to yourself, you feel the connection between your aura and the spell. You push forward, keeping your eyes locked on his small body. As you clear the barrier the heat blisters against your skin. Your tears evaporate in the violent heat from his body. Your skin sings with pain as the fire dances along your skin. As you move to touch him, you are startled by the sudden jerk of his head as he looks directly at you.

"YOU ARE DEAD!"

Carefully tracking his breathing, Shiver feels the coils of fire start to burn within his arms and legs where they were exposed beyond the coat. A placid pool of deep water fills his mind as the aging guardian focusses on memories of his past to lock his mind away from the pain and attempt to stave off the twists of mana grinding through him.

"The fire of rage still burns within him."

Questers

The fires surrounding the boy seem to grow hunger and race along Moira's body. You watch through the smoke pouring from Shiver's body as the rage tries to burn its way out of him leaving him a smouldering ruin of flesh.

Moira
You feel the waves of rejection flowing from his body. He seems to be trying to deny your existence, to push away any memory of the life he had before. You watch as he rage and the desperate need for you not to be here but you remain at his side, you will not leave him again. The flames seem to respond to his turmoil and eagerly wrap around your body. The pain screams along your skin as it burns its way through your clothes and laps at your flesh.

"GO AWAY!"

:: Reaching out a hand to the raging boys forehead, she rests her palm softly cupped as if feeling for a fever. Closing her eyes to help ignore the pain of the fire eating away at her skin, she begins to sing a soft song in an ancient russian tongue. The same song that she had sung him to sleep as a baby with. Despite the nearly intolerable pain she is suffering, and the roar of the flames filling the hallway, her voice rings through soft and enchanting. ::

Ой в гаю, при Дунаю, соловей щебече,
Вiн свою всю пташину до гнiздечка кличе

Ой тьох тьох i тьох тьох тьох
Соловей щебече,
Він свою всю пташину до гніздечка кличе

Ой в гаю, при Дунаю, там музика грає
Бас гуде, скрипка плаче, милий мій гуляє

Ой тьох тьох і тьох тьох тьох
Там музика грає
Бас гуде, скрипка плаче, милий мій гуляє

Ой тьох тьох і тьох тьох тьох
Там музика грає
Бас гуде, скрипка плаче, милий мій гуляє

Ой в гаю, при Дунаю, тужу самотою
Плачу, тужу, щеретаю, милий за тобою

Ой тьох тьох і тьох тьох тьох
Соловей щебече
Він свою всю пташину до гніздечка кличе

Ой тьох тьох і тьох тьох тьох
Там музика грає
Бас гуде, скрипка плаче, милий мій гуляє...

Abruptly, he let it go. All the feelings of rage and hatred that were boiling up inside him, his own or no, he let it go. Arms outstretched with the staff held horizontally, hands curled around it in the ancient mudra, he let the emotions pour through him, channeling them into the staff and into the flows of mana around him. The quick, clipped Latin phrases helped shape the flow as it left him, twisting and bending the reality around him with the strength of the emotions. He sent them out, directed at the flames that burned Shiver's skin, watching with barely restrained pleasure as they snuffed out the flames and reknit the flesh. Other's he sent towards Moira, turning the hatred and the rage against itself, buffeting the fire that raged around her with it's own flames, driving it back and away from her blistered skin and charred clothing.

Questers

The flames appear to swallow Moira whole as she embraces the small boy. You hear the soothing notes of her voice as she sings despite the pain and anger that chokes the air all around you. You hear her voice promising comfort and the end of pain as she sings. As she nears the end of the song you hear a single anguished cry from the child and then a wave of force and fire ripples out from the end of the hall leaving only Moira burnt and quiet.

Moira

As you hold him, you feel him struggle with you. He pummels you with blows as you sing but you can already feel his body weakening, losing his resolve to fight and lash out. As you reach the last line of the song he screams letting the last of his rage and fear go. You feel his body burst into light and fire, something seems to pass from him through you. You feel him inside you, you are reminded of your pregrancy. That feeling he was with you and sharing your world in those first months. You hear his voice perhaps his very thoughts as he moves through you.

Why did you leave me? Why didn't you come when I needed you? I waited and waited but you never came. The pain was everywhere and I felt myself slipping away but I tried to stay, I thought you would come but you didn't. Why did you stop loving me, was it.....

Then just as suddenly, he slips from you and you feel the ache of where he once was.