[GA] Part Deux: Duuk Hunt!

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [49] = 49 /52%
Just in Case: 1d20: [12] = 12 ; 1d100: [35] = 35
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive)

H.P.: 27/22
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 239/239
Current Outfit: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor, Clothes (Beaten Up Cargo Pants, Worn Thermal Undershirt, Wool Vest), Scarf, Goggles (Around Neck), Combat boots, Weapon Harness, Utility Belt, Battered Long Coat.

Ghast shrugs when inevitable death never comes. Starchief announcing an away mission just brings another shrug as Ghast walks to his room and begins to put on his body armor. Once geared up, Ghast grabs his rifle from the weapon's locker and finds a spot to wait near the landing ramp. Another world... one with gods apparently. Maybe they'll take pity on you. Screw that kill them and take the power yourself. You two are insufferable, I am not doing anything but following the group until such time as action is necessary. Ghast argues with himself, though to outside observers, he clearly seems to be mentally struggling with something.

Ghast listens to Starchief's speech and follows him out of the ship, keeping relatively close to the group and keeping an eye on things in general.

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [6*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [10] = 10 / 1d100: [45] = 45

Armor
Cargo shorts
Teal tank top
Action Sandals
HPC bracelet

Weapons
Magical clubs with the Rings of Sha Los (2)

With the Dime Store Magic landed on the Chirpa Plateau, Juan scans the barren plain and takes a deep breath. It is good to be back home; as much as he loves to wander, there is a certain reassurance to knowing that he does have a place to return to. Sister, I am back. And not a moment too soon!

"Alright, Echo, we're here. You all healed up from last week? We're gonna need you in tip-top shape to guide us through everything we're heading into."

"You better believe it!" Juan replies giving Starchief a fist bump. "I hope you are ready for the aggressive hospitality of my sister." He sizes up the Adventurers' leader, and then adds, "Really, Joni has been known to dislocate the pelvis of a guest or two.*

"Filled with questions I am. Read the Yayamama dossier, I have. Understand I do, active the Yayamama pantheon is in the lives of Urqos. Labor and worship, the Urqos provide. Technology, protection, the Yayamama provide in exchange, hmm? From... other Yayamama?"

"That is a sage observation," Juan replies. "But we do not simply provide technology and protection, we are everything to our worshipers. We stockpile food to distribute during feasts and celebrations, during famines we will plow the fields with the Urqos to ensure a bountiful harvest, we provide infrastructure for the parishes, and technology we procure from our relations with other forces in the Three Galaxies. But most importantly, we are the avatars of faith, and help our worshipers understand the many mysteries of the megaverse."

"With return of Juan Echo, a gift of technology you bring to your faithful Urqos, hmm?"

"I usually send livestock," Juan says, a little sheepish at how mundane his regular gifts home are. "The animals help fertilize the soil, serve as pack animals, and usually taste delicious. Maybe we just leave the duuks here. If cracking eggs doesn't kill me, they will be a valued part of the menagerie."

The other Adventurers are buzzing around the ship, amplifying Juan's own excitement. He grabs a bottle of water from the galley as he strides to the cargo bay. He is ready to be the first off the ship, when Starchief cues the music. He stops to listen to the words, and nods. That is a fitting hymn for my return. I can dig it. He pauses and waits for the others to arrive before walking out the door. As the music hits another chorus, Juan steps out the door with booth arms raised in triumph. The Wanderer has returned from his latest voyage.

Juan walks up to the retinue of worshipers that are their to greet them and identifies the leader, most likely the parish headman. He hands the bottle to the headman to begin the formal greeting. After being splashed in the face with water, Juan then ceremoniously scratches himself. He then picks up the headman and embraces him. "Greetings my good and dear Urqos... Kingsley? Rutherford? Gloria? Fester? It has been many years." He looks at the two towers, everything as it was when he left. "Is Joan in our tower?" Juan asks pointing at the larger of the two towers. "Or is she in the festivity center?" He points to the smaller of the two.

*Per Rate-A-Deity

Joan Echo
Yayamama Pantheon
10 out of 10
If someone even says the word 'snu-snu' my whole lower body goes numb like I dislocated both hip bones again. Worth it!

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [28] = 28 /39%
JiC: 1d20: [19] = 19 | 1d100: [25] = 25

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min |

MDC: 660/660 PPE: 440/440 ISP: 160/160

Skills:


Post:

When Exe feels the ebb of the temporal weave around the ship, his hands go out as if steading himself and he just mutters. "Oh great." Exe sighs. Is this my fault? Some Time Magic interference sounds like god-level stuff. So not ready for when He actually makes an appearance. Exe thinks to himself and shudders. Exe's own uncertainty translates to Corus who becomes increasingly agitated inside his room, so much so that it prompts Exe's ariel to investigate. Just then gravity drops and Exe feels himself start to float and Exe sits full lotus and crosses his arms, puffing air up to blow some of his unkempt strands and he sighs; floating in the middle of the hold. "Seriously. There's like, a million ships in space." Exe puffs to himself and focuses enough to trigger his flight so he can move unimpeded. Following that, Exe starts moving carefully through the halls, moving loose items closer to the floor as he passes, heading towards the Bridge or Engine Room, whichever he hears more sounds from.

"Master Metri is in the Mystic Engine Chamber!"

"Grateful I am. yess." ... "Defeat Haad. With Sarge, time relic melded. Then from the timestream, found and rescued me, yess... Impossible feats made mundane. A Tuesday for the Galactic Adventurers, hmm?"

Exe heads to the Engine Room at the call. When Exe hears the twisted words of little green alien, his head cocks to the side and he squints. "Uh, what?" Exe asks briefly, looking to anyone nearby. Exe watches the exchange between Metri and the Adventures with interest and when an opportunity presents itself, Exe floats out infront of Metri (and Starchief) to introduce himself. "Hello! I'm Exe." Exe says with a smile and wave, still floating even after gravity has been returned.

”REPORT, CAPTAIN DESIGNATE: STARCHIEF. SHIP ENCOUNTERED A TEMPORAL ANOMALY ORIGINATING FROM THE CARGO BAY. EFFECTED SHIPWIDE TEMPORAL DISTORTION FOR A PERIOD OF 5.36 SECONDS SHIP-TIME AND 3.87 DAYS STANDARD GALACTIC TIIME. DURING THIS PERIOD OUR FORWARD VELOCITY CONTINUED IN THE FRAME OF REFERENCE OF THE THREE GALAXIES BUT OUTSIDE OF OUR PERCEPTION OF TIME. ANOMALY ALSO GENERATED QUANTUM ANTI-GRAVITY THAT INTERFERED WITH SHIPS’ SYSTEMS FOR A PERIOD OF 8.12 SECONDS. NO PERMANENT DAMAGE IS DETECTED. ALL SHIP’S SYSTEMS ARE OPERATING WITHIN STANDARD PARAMETERS. TEMPORAL ANOMALY UNDETECTED. WE APPEAR TO BE OUT OF DANGER, ASIDE FROM THE FACT THAT WE HAVE ARRIVED AT OUR DESTINATIOON.”

Exe will gladly read up on the information available in the computers database during final approach once all the commotion calms down. Taking his reading to his room where he floats and reads, not having cancelled his flight because.. well, walking is so mundane. His ariel, Matthew, has returned to his corner and is visibly agitated. "Young master Exe, are you not concerned about the temporal disturbance? What if it is a sign from your father?" Matthew asks and Exe groans, leaning back in the air to where he is looking at Matthew upside down.

"Then it was a weak sign. It was probably just that green guy coming back." Exe answers dismissively, looking back to the reading before sighing. "I'm not sure I'm ready for it to mean more than that." Exe mutters in response. Matthew just nods and closes his eyes, going back to his own meditation while Exe returns to his reading.

"We're approaching our destination everyone. Please make your preparations for an away mission. Icky, how are the Duuks? Don't want them tearing the ship up while we're out and about."

Exe grabs his pack and heads to the hold with Corus and Matthew in tow. "Uh, Chief. I can leave one of these two to look after the duucks if we need to?" Exe'll offer and, if accepted, nods and turns to Corus. "Sorry bud, just for the moment. Keep on eye on the ducks. When they're gone, I'll find time for us to go flying." Exe offers his eagle, patting the side of its strong, tucked wings. He then turns to Matthew. "Uh, so, even after reading the information I have no idea what to expect.. just maybe keep my... heritage quiet for now." Exe suggests a tad more quietly, though not secretly, to Matthew who simply nods his head.

When Exe gets outside, he is immediately taken aback by Juan's entourage and verbally can't stop himself from groaning in disgust at them. "O-oh, right. Gods." Exe resigns, recognizing Juan is probably like Thraxus on this planet. Gods and those who worship them. I hate it. Of all things I could've been, the child of a god and a hero. Yeah, being a god's all great. Do what you want when you want with limited repercussions. Leaves a mess everywhere for everyone else though. And crowds. I hate crowds. I remember Mom actually liked crowds... she said, 'its a friendly reminder of the lives you positively affect, the lives of those you save. I love seeing them' ... but that's not how gods treat it. Exe silently reminisces on his own life as a demi-god, son of a champion. Exe watches Juan interact with his followers with a combination of disgust and respect.

===================
Ariel Perception: 1d100: [13] = 13 /25%
JiC: 1d20: [5] = 5 | 1d100: [10] = 10

Conditions: HF/Awe: 12 | Nightvision (200ft) | See Invisible (At Will) | Bio-Regen (4d6/min) | Speak and understand all languages

MDC: 660/660 PPE: 440/440 ISP: 160/160

Matthew will follow Exe and the Adventures silently in the back with his hands folded behind his back, wearing green martial robes and traveling in sandals. Matthew may look more out of place while trying to blend. Matthew is unnerved from the temporal disturbance felt earlier and is mentally taking it as a sign form Zurvan that something may be coming.

===================

thorin2go@tggm.gal wrote:
Zurvan
Persian Pantheon
1 out of 10
A total hit it and quit it attitude for basically everything. People, planets, dimensions; guy has serious ADHD. Gets a stichk, decides to create new gods, leaves them to run amok, pissed and powerful cause of daddy issues. A 4th Dimensional Being? Good! I say Zurvan, and all ilk related to this primordial pimp be banished forever!

[Metri]

((rolls carried over))

Ghast listens to Starchief's speech and follows him out of the ship, keeping relatively close to the group and keeping an eye on things in general.

Falling in line next to him, the Yhabbayar smiles warmly and tries to make an introduction.

Trust. d%: [5] = 5 | 92% <== Hi Ghast! I'm Metri! Like me please!

"Metri," he says, placing an open palm on his chest in greeting. "Remember you from my... timeline... I do not. With the Adventurers you were in defeating Haad?" Though not seeking a lengthy soliloquy on his role, Metri nonetheless wishes to make an introduction, knowing that to those Adventurers unfamiliar with him, he is the newcomer to the group.

"In combat, accepting of magical protections and armaments, you are, hmm?" the Yhabbayar asks when the opportunity provides itself in their conversation, asking for permission in advance to grant protective magics in future conflicts.

"Filled with questions I am. Read the Yayamama dossier, I have. Understand I do, active the Yayamama pantheon is in the lives of Urqos. Labor and worship, the Urqos provide. Technology, protection, the Yayamama provide in exchange, hmm? From... other Yayamama?"

"That is a sage observation," Juan replies. "But we do not simply provide technology and protection, we are everything to our worshipers. We stockpile food to distribute during feasts and celebrations, during famines we will plow the fields with the Urqos to ensure a bountiful harvest, we provide infrastructure for the parishes, and technology we procure from our relations with other forces in the Three Galaxies. But most importantly, we are the avatars of faith, and help our worshipers understand the many mysteries of the megaverse."

"With return of Juan Echo, a gift of technology you bring to your faithful Urqos, hmm?"

"I usually send livestock," Juan says, a little sheepish at how mundane his regular gifts home are. "The animals help fertilize the soil, serve as pack animals, and usually taste delicious. Maybe we just leave the duuks here. If cracking eggs doesn't kill me, they will be a valued part of the menagerie."

Metri finds himself nodding along with the godling. "Good it is, support your people you do. A tide lifting all boats, yesss." The Yhabbayar displays genuine gratefulness that Juan's worshippers are not taken advantage of, but rather that there is an equitable exchange.

"Hello! I'm Exe." Exe says with a smile and wave, still floating even after gravity has been returned.

Trust. d%: [68] = 68 | 92% <== Hi Exe!
"Metri." Metri replies placing an open palm on his chest, returning the warm smile with equal enthusiasm. Then, he seems to stare at the teenager with intense scrutiny before his eyes go wide in astonishment. ((Sense Life: Sense Supernatural Good))

"More than a Defender of Life you are... Supernatural goodness your nature is. Hmm." Metri gestures, pointing briefly at the youth with his walking stick. Warmth and welcome exude from the Yhabbayar, "Grateful I am and bid you welcome I do." Then with a faraway look, Metri muses cautiously to himself, "Deific weight on the scale of good versus evil. Grand conflict, the Adventurers' future portends. hmm."

Then shaking his head slightly, freeing his mind of the calamitous mood, Metri returns to an upbeat tone and asks Exe for advance permission to grant spells in future combat. "In combat, accepting of magical protections and armaments, you are, hmm?"

[Chef Icky]

Perception: 1d100<61: [5*] = 1
JIC: 1d20: [1] = 1 / 1d100: [57] = 57

When Sarge suddenly springs to life and high-tails it out of the cargo bay, Icky lets out a groan. Smegging frell, not again... He quickly turns to Alison. "Oi, Lil' Britches, I need ya ta stay 'ere an' keep an eye on da duuklings, okay? I'll be right back..." Like any of them's going to actually stay here... he thinks to himself as he draws his pistol and chases after his (once again) runaway PA.

When Sarge literally yanks Metri out of the mystic engine, however, for the longest time Icky just stands here flabbergasted -- even when gravity seems like nothing more than a sad abstraction for several long seconds -- his mind unable to fully process what he's witnessed, his expression could almost be likened to a computer suffering a severe lag due to lack of bandwidth.

Or whatever passes for bandwidth in the Three Galaxies.

"BOOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he finally shouts and wraps his massive arms around the not-so-massive Yhabbayar in a heartfelt bear hug. "We reckoned we lost ya fer good dere, chum, when ya didn't respawn after our lil' pow-wow wit' dat arse-hat Decker. We were afraid Haad scrambled ya outta da timeline like a three-centon omelet. Glad ta have ya back on board!"

He lets go and lets the others bring Metri up to speed while he turns away, surreptitiously wiping away a tear of joy at finally getting back a friend after having lost so many

I'm not crying, you're crying

and giving Sarge a pat on the shoulder. "Ya did good, Sarge... real gorram good..." he mutters under his breath.

"Defeat Haad. With Sarge, time relic melded. Then from the timestream, found and rescued me, yess... Impossible feats made mundane. A Tuesday for the Galactic Adventurers, hmm?"

Juan kneels down to put a large, stony red hand on Metri's shoulder. The Godling practically radiates divine warmth at the sight of Yhabbayar. "Truly, except on Tuesdays, Priest Icky makes tacos after we do the impossible."

Icky chuckles. “Oi yah, but dis week I’ll fix up whatever yer in da mood for, chum. Haunted power armors don’t pluck crewmates outta time warps just every day – even wit’ DIS crew.”

His ears flicker as he picks up the pitter-patter of little feet rounding the corner and turns around just in time to see Alison literally latch herself onto his leg.

“Papa! Papa! Papa!” she squeals as he reaches down and picks her up, cradling her in one massive arm as a human child on the mythical planet Earth might sit in the crotch of a tree. “You said stay with the duuklings, but then the lights went out and I was really scared! Then some lights came on and I got to fly like Uncle Exe’s big bird! That was really fun -- can we do that again? But leave the lights on this time? Pleeeeeeeeeeeze?”

Icky chuckles at the girl’s mix of fright and excitement. “Maybe later, Lil’ Britches. Maybe later. But now dere’s someone I want ya ta meet, okay?” He kneels down next to Metri. “Boog, meet Alison. She’s…” he hesitates a moment. “She’s stayin’ wit’… dat is… we’re lookin’ after… aw spit, Boog, meet me daughter.” Well that felt a little weird saying it out loud. A GOOD weird, sure, but still a little weird. “Ali gal, dis here’s Metri. He’s an important member o’ da crew an’ one o’ me best chums in all da worlds. We thought we wouldn’t see him again but Sarge just yanked ‘im outta da mystic engine like a magician pullin’ a lurduuk out o’ a blast helmet.”

Once reunions are made, and things have settled down, Icky returns Sarge to his usual spot in the cargo bay and brushes up on the Yayamama system as best he can in the approach.

"In combat, accepting of magical protections and armaments, you are, hmm?"

Icky leans in whenever Metri asks that of someone. “Ya wanna say ‘yes’ ta dis. Trust me. We’d have all snuffed it big time if not for Boog’s magic buffs.”

---------------------------------------------

Leaning toward Icky, he asks, "A new... revitalized Meatball this is, hmm? Away too long, I have. Changed much has."

Icky shakes his head and shrugs. “Dat’s puttin’ it mildly, chum. If someone had come up ta us when we first touched down on Axis-V an’ told us what all was gonna happen ‘tween den an’ now, I’d have lined ‘em up fer a double lobotomy an’ ten rolls o’ rubber wallpaper. But ‘ere we are.” He chuckles in spite of himself. “Too bad Shadowmane ain’t ‘ere; our adventures would’a blown his mind an’ put our old stories ta shame. Maybe he had da right idea o’ makin’ a vid after all.”

As the ship’s touching down he tracks down Juan and Starchief. “So what’s da play chums? We goin’ in expectin’ a lotta trouble, a little trouble, or no trouble at all?”

If no trouble is expected (as seems to be the case with the posts from the others), he’ll only arm himself with his pistol on his hip and Darkwing strapped across his back. More importantly, he introduces Alison to the harness frame that was originally intended for Metri’s use in combat. “Okay, Lil’ Britches, we’re gonna visit Uncle Red’s family an’ people. Dis’ll give ya a good view o’ everythin’ an’ if stuff goes wonky ya jus’ hold on tight, okay? We gotta be on our best behavior so be good fer me an’ we’ll make some cookies first thing on our flight home.”

If trouble should be expected, however, he’ll have Alison stay on board with Datephus and Corus while he dons Sarge and stays at the back of the group disembarking the ship.

[Metri]

((rolls carried over))

Metri smiles as only a rag doll can when embraced by Icky's boa-constrictor-like arms. "Grateful also. Not lost to the timeline I am." he manages, trying to return the hug with abbreviated arms.

“Boog, meet Alison. She’s…” he hesitates a moment. “She’s stayin’ wit’… dat is… we’re lookin’ after… aw spit, Boog, meet me daughter.”

The Yhabbayar looks closely at Alison with a scrutinizing eye. His brows and forehead wrinkled in concentration. Then, after a moment, he huffs a nod in affirmation, "Uncanny, the family resemblance is, yesss."

Then, tapping his Millenium staff gently on the deck once to emphasize the point, he continues, "But not yet ready for adventure she is. Training, hmm? Practice!" Leaning in close to the child, he asks pointedly, "Ready you are to be trained, hmm? Most important it will be to listen to Papa Icky, yesss."

If given the affirmative, Metri will grant Alison cosmic armor ((-23 PPE)) so that she can practice flying around a bit without hurting herself (though the same may not be able to be said for whatever in her surroundings she crashes into) and throwing stones ((-3 PPE)) so that she can target practice. He will leave any/all instructions on technique to Icky however and merely enjoy watching the session(s) as an observer.

[Dark Lord]

As you begin your final approach, Starchief sets up a suitably snazzy entrance for Juan. Those of you who take the time to do so can read a brief dossier in the ship’s database, though it’s a little light on details. While everyone is overjoyed at the abrupt return of master Metri, none are more so than Chef Icky who greets the returned Yhabbayar with an appropriate volume (and enthusiasm) before throwing Sarge a well-done for retrieving his companion. Having been promised whatever he wants out of Icky’s galley that week, Metri has some time to introduce himself to the new crewmembers, most notably Icky’s adopted daughter. Heedless of the potential consequences, Metri enchants the young girl with a suit of cosmic armor, and then gives her some magical throwing stones to play with. In a matter of minutes she is zooming about the ship (mostly the cargo bay, thank the gods), and for a few precious minutes she looks like a (more or less) normal child living and loving life, rather than a bereaved orphan. When he meets Exe, his life sense rings especially true- the young man has a good heart. Ghast, on the other hand, reads a little differently but Metri still resolves to introduce himself and learn about the mysterious (and silent) man’s capabilities and attitude. Metri also takes the opportunity to chat with Juan about his home and his people, to fill in a few of the many blanks from the computer records.

The duuks appear to be contained and reasonably well-behaved during all this. Exe leaves Corus in charge of the duuks, and apparently the electrically charged avian species all get along well with one another as Exe’s familiar keeps them well in hand (with one watchful eye on Alison). In short order the ship lands, and Starchief gets the team in gear. Juan takes the lead off of the ship while Starchief and Ghast follow silently, and the rest of you trickling out as you finish your preparations. Exe mostly keeps his displeasure to himself at the open worship of Juan Echo of all people and follows along quietly, but quietly asks Matthew to keep his own parentage on the down-low for now- no sense in getting sidetracked with deific politicking. With the temporal anomaly weighing on his mind, Matthew agrees and follows along in silence. Icky throws out a few questions as to the situation on the planet, but things don’t seem all that dangerous at the moment so he relaxes fractionally. Finally, Juan accepts the musical accompaniment and devotion of his followers as his just due, although he notes with some irritation that only four followers show up at the landing site. Maybe the ship scared them off? How long has Juan been away, anyways? Regardless, he greets his worshippers and inquires as to Joni’s location. ”She is in your tower, oh great Wanderer. We are overjoyed at your return and give thanks for the bounty that your presence will undoubtedly bestow upon us.”

While you can talk to the townsfolk further, they are simple people and have little more information to offer. Since Juan knows the way already, he also leads the way to the larger of the two towers perched atop a nearby mountain. The trail is steep and narrow, but reasonably well-maintained (if primitive by the standards of most modern planets). And the view is fantastic- at least if you like mountains and rocks. Juan leads you into the tower without much fanfare- you enter through a foyer lined with various works of art of quite varying tastes. As you enter Juan feels a telepathic brush with his mind, followed by his sister’s voice calling out ”Juan? Is that you?”

What are you doing?

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [65] = 65 /52%
Just in Case: 1d20: [9] = 9 ; 1d100: [63] = 63
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive)

H.P.: 27/22
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 239/239
Current Outfit: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor, Clothes (Beaten Up Cargo Pants, Worn Thermal Undershirt, Wool Vest), Scarf, Goggles (Around Neck), Combat boots, Weapon Harness, Utility Belt, Battered Long Coat.

Ghast watches the retinue and his new team, his mind far away, and argumentative of itself. Pomp and circumstance, we've seen this before with the director and his technicians. You're ignoring the new old guy... at least I think he's old, or at the very least wrinkly. "Frak!" Comes unbidden from Ghast's mind, loud and clear to anyone within sixty feet of the former assassin. Ghast looks sheepish as he looks down at Metri.

"Metri," he says, placing an open palm on his chest in greeting. "Remember you from my... timeline... I do not. With the Adventurers you were in defeating Haad?" Though not seeking a lengthy soliloquy on his role, Metri nonetheless wishes to make an introduction, knowing that to those Adventurers unfamiliar with him, he is the newcomer to the group.

"In combat, accepting of magical protections and armaments, you are, hmm?" the Yhabbayar asks when the opportunity provides itself in their conversation, asking for permission in advance to grant protective magics in future conflicts.

"Sorry, I was lost in my head. Uh, you can call me Ghast. No I think you had vanished before I found the Adventurers." Ghast says forcing a weak smile to his weathered face. Brushing a loose strand of hair from his eye, Ghast continues. "Yeah, I'm okay with help. You're a mage I would guess by the conversation." Ghast says, as his stomach involuntarily growls a little. While the man can get all the nourishment he needed from normal food, something about draining energy from others hit different, and Ghast's body was trying to remind him while his mind was trying to shake it off.

When the team begins moving, Ghast falls in step with them, not aiming to be in any particular position. The beautiful view isn't lost on Ghast, though it's effect is likely different for him than most as it brings feelings of hopelessness to the man. Whether it is visible in Ghast's face or not, is hard to say as he normally looks rather morose on average. The foyer also gets a look over, but to Ghast, art doesn't have the same pull, to him it's just ostentatious wealth and reminds him of many of the victims of his creators.

"Nice place." Ghast says quietly.

User: Bezos_Prime
Rating: 6 out of 10

Hired him to kill a rival, but wanted it to look like an accident. Apparently he found that my rival had many heavy sharp art pieces that if not secured properly could cause a lot of damage. My rival is dead, it certainly looked like an accident, but the loss of millions of credits of rare and unique art pieces was a bit heart breaking. Would hire again, but likely put some parameters in the future.

[Kaedras Starfall]

Perception 48% 1d100: [1] = 1

JIC: 1d20: [12] = 12
JIC: 1d100: [25] = 25

"Justice, not genocide, our goal should be, hmm?"

Kaedras offers the Yabbayhar mystic a genuine smile - perhaps the Star Elf's first full smile in years.

"I am truly happy to see y..."

"BOOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Kaedras stands aside as first Starchief and then Icky sweep the diminutive mystic into hugs. He listens as they talk, talking over each other at times in their excitement to reconnect.

I will have time to reconnect with Master Metri at my own pace. We Star Elves can afford to wait. He then remembers Metri's death on Axis V. Sometimes.

When Alison comes running in, Kaedras tilts his head. She is a light in this ship. Her childlike joy illuminates every corner.

“Maybe later, Lil’ Britches. Maybe later. But now dere’s someone I want ya ta meet, okay? Boog, meet Alison. She’s… She’s stayin’ wit’… dat is… we’re lookin’ after… aw spit, Boog, meet me daughter. Ali gal, dis here’s Metri. He’s an important member o’ da crew an’ one o’ me best chums in all da worlds. We thought we wouldn’t see him again but Sarge just yanked ‘im outta da mystic engine like a magician pullin’ a lurduuk out o’ a blast helmet.”

Kaedras' eyes widen at the unspoken, and he steps up, resting a light hand on Ali's shoulder. Kneeling down to her level, he looks her in the eyes, his face a mask of seriousness.

"Child... I need you to make me a promise. Although Master Metri came out of the Mystic Engine, you must promise me that you will never, never try to go in. The mystic engine is not safe to touch." He waits a moment, looking for comprehension in her eyes. He can not tell this child that the ship's "A.I.", Datephus, is actually part ghostly - the remains of two former Galactic Adventurers whom bad judgement and a last-ditch ploy both led to the same fate: dissolution by, and absorption into, the selfsame Mystic Engine that Metri has now emerged from. I shall have to consult scholars on how that is possible. It is well beyond my ken. To drive the seriousness of his request home, he adds "If you were to get hurt... it would make us all very, very sad."

Standing, he looks down at her, a slight smile playing at the edges of his lips. "Do you promise?"

---

When they arrive at Juan's planet, Kaedras goes to his chamber to get ready. When they disembark, he joins the Adventurer's as Juan's erstwhile "entourage", heading toward the tower to meet Juan's sister.

"Nice place."

Kaedras nods, his keen elven hearing catching the quiet man's remarks. "It reminds me, in some ways, of Alfheim. Not ... the nice parts of Alfheim. The other parts."

[Ghast]

((Rolls Carried Over))

Kaedras nods, his keen elven hearing catching the quiet man's remarks. "It reminds me, in some ways, of Alfheim. Not ... the nice parts of Alfheim. The other parts."

Ghast looks to Kaedras. "Can't say I've been there. But yeah it brings memories of some less than pleasant places for me. At least it's clean, unlike the last few places we've been." Ghast says in response to Kaedras. What do I even know about him, a swordsman I think. Ghast thinks.

"What do you think is gonna happen here?" Ghast asks, obviously more than a little confused on the general situation. Which as of late seems to be his usual state of being.

[Kaedras Starfall]

(Rolls carried over)

"What do you think is gonna happen here?"

Kaedras looks over at Juan. A planet full of Juan's people?

"Literally anything. I find Juan, by himself, impossible to predict. These are his people. I suspect they, like he, are equally..." Chaotic? Insane? "...Erratic."

"I doubt, however, that we will be treated unkindly. Though... I was once wrong, centuries ago. I could be wrong again." Spoken in true deadpan manner, the Star Elf's idea of a joke would likely pass entirely unnoticed by non-elves.

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [9*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [2] = 2 / 1d100: [57] = 57

Armor
Cargo shorts
Teal tank top
Action Sandals
HPC bracelet

Weapons
Magical clubs with the Rings of Sha Los (2)

The size of the entourage matters little to the Wanderer as he steps off the Dime Store Magic. He only feels exuberance at the presence of honest to the gods worshipers. He is beaming like a child who has been told he gets to order all the ice cream. After giving the proper greeting to the head of the welcoming (sub-)committee, Juan puts his arms around Starchief and Draggor and leads them, along with the other Adventurers, towards the main tower. "Come let me show you my home!"

Halfway up the trail Juan pauses, and with his arm that is around Draggor he points to the smaller of the two towers. "That is our entertainment complex. It is where we have our professional sportsball arenas, our theater and ballet. It is also where we keep the crucial infrastructure for my worshipers: the granary, water purification center, two soup kitchens, spaceship machine shop, and (of course) the industrial scale brewery slash distillery." Don't forget the rusty metal cots behind the waste disposal center. "It's also where we let our siblings stay when they visit. But you all will stay in the main tower, which is much more hospitable."

As the Adventurers enter the tower, Juan can feel the bond with his sister strengthening, he can practically hear her telling her handmaidens what to prepare for dinner tonight. The foyer is a sharp contrast to the dusty village that surrounds it. It is sleek made of carved white stone. Illuminated panels are strategically placed around the room to augment the natural light that fills the tower. The walls are lined with a number of pieces of art that Juan shows to his guests. "That is a portrait of our father, the Inflamible Lama Sol. I believe that was painted when he was courting our mother. Such an inspiring display of virility. Over there is a sculpture of my sister Joan during her 'fat baby phase'." That's you, Jonny. I'm pretty sure it's you, sister. Look closer, you're wearing pants. Juan leans forward and stares at the sculpture. "Huh, that is me, during my 'fat baby phase'."

Juan then stops at a small unframed hologram at the end of the hall. He smiles and turns back to the others. "The most humble image is also the most important. Joan is very proud of the school system in the Chirpa Plateau. We brag the highest Trade 4 literacy rates in the entire planet. Including these fine young lads."

"Juan? Is that you?"

Joan Echo is Juan's identical twin sister. She is the female equivalent to Juan; they have the same long black hair, deep red polished stone skin, and near identical facial features. She is only a few inches shorter and has slightly more rounded features than him. She is wearing loose white tunic and gray skirt when she walks in and embraces her brother. The Adventurers should be struck by not just the physical similarities, but also the way they seem to move in unison. The seem to mirror each other as they hug, patting each other on the shoulder and then placing their hand at the base of the other's neck. You can't imagine how ridiculous things have been? Can't I? First Thraxus shows up, then I find out you're working for him, and then he says you're bringing an army! That's only half of it! The two laugh and then turn to the Adventurers in unison and Juan formally introduces them.

"My dear Urqos, this is my sister, Juan Echo, the Goddess of Hospitality. Joni, this is my team, the Galactic Adventurers. The Urqos Andra is our team leader and a very honorable warrior. Hello soldier boy. "Alongside him are our most seasoned veterans, sage Urqos Metri (he looks like an old soul and Priest Icky, the servant of Dionysious." Joan gives a polite nod to Icky acknowledging his devotion to another deity. "We also have Urqos Ghast, Draggor, and Exe. Those last two are not Urqos, interesting... "And finally, the Waterboy." Joan's eybrow arches at the last introduction.

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [23] = 23 | 39%
JIC: 1d20: [1] = 1 | d%: [12] = 12 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 800ft (no-magic). 1800ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [84] = 84 | 84%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [89] = 89 | 90%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. d%: [40] = 40 | 94%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 159/159
ISP: 260/260
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 72/72
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

"Yeah, I'm okay with help. You're a mage I would guess by the conversation."

Metri gently shakes his head, "A student of magic, I am not. Trained to be an ambassador of my people I was. Intuitive, my grasp of magic and psionics are. A mystic, hmm?" The Yhabbayar's left ear twitches slightly at the sound of a growling stomach. A look of scrutiny mixed with a heavy dose of compassion washes across his face. Hungry when Chef Icky is manning the galley? Seems unlikely. Despite some innate curiosity, Metri nonetheless can read Ghast's body language and does not breech the topic of his hunger. Instead, he tries to learn a bit more about his compatriot.

"Melee or Ranged, your preferred distance of combat is, hmm?" Metri asks, being careful not to pre-judge anyone based on build or stature. "Tactician, Sniper, Support, Brawler, or Specialist?" The Yhabbayar seems to struggle a little bit coming up with battle roles and counting them on his tridactyl hand. "If categories are not correct... a military man, I am not."

Kaedras offers the Yabbayhar mystic a genuine smile - perhaps the Star Elf's first full smile in years.

"I am truly happy to see y..."

Later, after they disembark, Metri makes it a point to find Kaedras. Their prior reunion temporarily interrupted by Icky's enthusiasm.

He leaves the gratitude of being reunited unspoken, but clearly radiating from his nature. He instead discusses the unique opportunity before them with the bearer of the Water relic.
"Fascinating this culture is. A symbiotic relationship forged over time by powerful and mundane peoples. Surprised I am that thriving the Yayamama pantheon is despite structured internecine conflict." Metri taps his chin thoughtfully with a tridactyl finger, "Virility, perhaps a keystone trait to maintain Yayamama population, hmm?" The Yhabbayar smiles and seems eager to learn more.

Upon reaching the main tower, Metri pads along at Juan's pace as he gives a tour. He quietly takes it all in and appears especially interested when they come upon the art.

Art (professional). d%: [52] = 52 | 90% and Anthropology. d%: [98] = 98 | 80% <== Try to gain insight into the culture based on the artwork. Common themes, lines perhaps telling of people's aggressiveness/passiveness, overall life views.

"Created in homage by worshippers, this art is? Or crafted by Yayamama hands, hmm?" Metri asks, hopeful to pin down whether the insight he gleans applies to the worshippers or individuals within the pantheon.

"Alongside him are our most seasoned veterans, sage Urqos Metri

Metri glances down at the back of his hand a moment before nodding in wholehearted agreement, "The color-hue of sage, mild. Non-offensive. Naturally melds with many types of foliage, yess. Seasoning for all salads, hmm." He smiles in warm greeting at Joan.

Did the others say that Thraxus is to be found here? Suppose his deific presence would be dampened by the presence of the individuals of the Yayamama pantheon. But still, if he is in hiding, we are no doubt about to be set to an impossible task of tremendous importance.

[Ghast]

((Rolls Carried over))

"A student of magic, I am not. Trained to be an ambassador of my people I was. Intuitive, my grasp of magic and psionics are. A mystic, hmm?.. Melee or Ranged, your preferred distance of combat is, hmm?.. Tactician, Sniper, Support, Brawler, or Specialist?.. If categories are not correct... a military man, I am not."

Ghast looks down towards Metri. Ah, I know of Mystics, an interesting calling." Ghast says as he mulls over Metri's follow up questions. "Either really, my training is unorthodox, I was raised as an assassin for..." Ghast starts, put pauses. "No matter, I am fairly well rounded in my abilities, both ranged and melee, plus a smattering of other skills that make my former profession easier." Ghast says, if he is ashamed it doesn't really show.

Do you really want to tell the new guy your life story? He knows too much! No, and calm down, nothing no one else in the group isn't already aware of. Ghast thinks wrestling with the errant thoughts that bother him.

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [77] = 77 | 21%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [4] = 4 | 1d100: [85] = 85

Post
Draggor clearly takes it to heart the suggestion to study Juan's homeworld(s), consequently spending much time in their room listening to Datephus read out the many entries. This does carry the consequence of not meeting Metri proper, though they did have brief overlap on that one time loop. Could be fun to live among them, perpetual war! They are left alone... mostly. Still, we should leave an impression here. We could come back! Ever a curious thought: Juan and his fellow Godlings live long enough to remember! They call us Urqos...

That the rest of the crew bubble with happiness and excitement of the returned friend and member of the Adventurers creeps into Draggor regardless of isolation and study. It's not just that impossible things happen in this group, but sometimes, impossibly GOOD things can happen. If you ever remember, maybe you could tell them... Runes feel familiar, will make sense eventually...

In preparation to leave the ship, the creature dons the formal-wear from the night out of partying: who knows how this species will react to their monstrous aura, but a good tunic goes a long way to balance it out.

The exuberance of Juan's entrance manages to get a grin out of the creature, though the feeling is short lived as, along with Starchief, they are given a front row tour and escort! A more than passing interest is plain as day on the monster's face at mention of the arena. The paintings draw attention right up until Joan's appearance and introductions are made.

"We also have Urqos Ghast, Draggor, and Exe."

They bow, but largely defer to Juan and Starchief, as much as this is a a reunion, we're also here because of Thraxus.

Upon finding a small opportunity, Draggor approaches Metri, "Sorry to not reintroduce," they say, and pause, before holding up two fingers, "Joined on your second loop. Been with since." It's as fast of a summary as it gets!

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [24] = 24 /39%
JiC: 1d20: [7] = 7 | 1d100: [66] = 66

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min |

MDC: 660/660 PPE: 440/440 ISP: 160/160

Skills:
Appraise goods: 1d100: [92] = 92 /56% (He's just looking.... not touching....)

Post:

"More than a Defender of Life you are... Supernatural goodness your nature is. Hmm." ... "Grateful I am and bid you welcome I do." ... "Deific weight on the scale of good versus evil. Grand conflict, the Adventurers' future portends. hmm."

Exe floats back a bit, visibly uncomfortably by Metri's comments of deific impact. He merely shrugs and sheepishly laughs. "Ha haha, probably not. I mean, I'm just a kid. With an eagle.. Oh, have you met Corus!?" Exe suddenly exclaims, derailing the deific topic. "You've gotta meet Corus, oh and Matthew. Corus is my best friend. Matthew is sorta... uh, like a body guard I guess right now." Exe explains dismissively.

"In combat, accepting of magical protections and armaments, you are, hmm?"

Exe nods with a shrug. "Sure, if you want. I'm still learning some of this stuff." Exe responds without elaborating, walking down the hallway to introduce Corus to Metri. He talks funny... hard to understand him sometimes.

“Ya wanna say ‘yes’ ta dis. Trust me. We’d have all snuffed it big time if not for Boog’s magic buffs.”

Exe glances to Icky then back to the little green mage and grins. "Hey! I wonder if he can help me make Talismans for everyone!" Exe exclaims like a lightbulb moment.

"What do you think is gonna happen here?"

"Literally anything. I find Juan, by himself, impossible to predict. These are his people. I suspect they, like he, are equally..."

Exe walks along with his arms hooked into his sash and a bored look on his face. Exe is doing everything he can to avoid looking up at the sky and not where they were going. As the two talk, he listens. "It's a planet of with more gods. More politics and probably as dangerous as Phase World." Exe mutters, not really hiding his apprehension. This god thing is nothing but bad news. Every time they are involved. Any of them. It's like people just die. Exe finds himself thinking, his lips pursing tightly as he furrows his brow. "Ugh." Exe complains to himself.

"Come let me show you my home!"

... Some time later ...

"Huh, that is me, during my 'fat baby phase'."

Exe begrudgingly follows along The one good thing about gods and their home worlds is they sometimes have cool toys laying around... I wonder if Exe thinks to himself, keeping an eye for the trinkets that might be laying around and how valuable they may be. Matthew at his heel the entire time disrupting his train of thought. The ariel has been a constant second tour guide offering personal counselling while Juan has been going off about his planet and the two voices combined have proven quite challenging for Exe to concentrate through. You would be wise to curve your attitude and see what is around you in a different way. You've had questions about gods for how long? Now you are on a planet owned by them. You may find answers here. Matthew telepathically reminds Exe, in form of a reprimand. If this temporal disturbance is a potential fulcrum in the balance, you must be ready. If you continue to hold onto this stubborn- Matthew continues until Exe suddenly blurts out, in front of everyone. "I KNOW!" Exe exclaims then immediately stops and looks around embarrassed. He looks directly to Juan and rubs the back of his neck. "Uh... sorry. Please continue." He says as politely as he can while still managing to shoot the dirtiest look to Matthew. The Ariel itself has remained completely stoic the entire time, unphased.

Exe will silently follow along the remainder of the tour, a myriad of overwhelming emotions ratting in his brain. You. Just screamed at a god on a gods planet... who cares if Juan is easy going. Some worshippers are fanatical. Exe shudders, images of his own past flashing by before he shoves them down. When it is finally time to meet Juan's sister, Exe does his best to hide his unease.

"My dear Urqos, this is my sister, Joan Echo, the Goddess of Hospitality. Joni, this is my team, the Galactic Adventurers. The Urqos Andra is our team leader and a very honorable warrior. Hello soldier boy. "Alongside him are our most seasoned veterans, sage Urqos Metri (he looks like an old soul and Priest Icky, the servant of Dionysious." ..."We also have Urqos Ghast, Draggor, and Exe."

When it's Exe's turn, he'll offer a meek smile. "Uh, hello, you, um, you have a nice planet." Exe offers with forced smile [Invoke Trust: 1d100<86: [5*] = 1 % (to not appear uncomfortable; more gods/godlings (inter-changeable to him))]


===================
Ariel Perception: 1d100: [46] = 46 /25%
JiC: 1d20: [13] = 13 | 1d100: [64] = 64

Conditions: HF/Awe: 12 | Nightvision (200ft) | See Invisible (At Will) | Bio-Regen (4d6/min) | Speak and understand all languages

MDC: 660/660 PPE: 440/440 ISP: 158/160

Matthew will walk several paces behind, with both arms folded and resting in the square of his back and his eyes forward. Matthew observes Exe's interactions with the godlings of the planet. Once on the planet, Matthew alters his own aura to appear as nothing more than another magic caster.

===================

soarin2u@tggm.gal
Zurvan
Persian Pantheon
1 out of 10
Talk about worst god to look up too. Something that doesn't even know what its like to live like we do. At least some of the other gods are physical things! They can feel pain! Zurvan!? What's he feel, huh?! You know what he feels!? Boredom. He feels boredom. Maybe a bit of irritation he even has to spend time here. Why in the name of whatever-god-you-swear-at would you worship a cynnical, removed, bored god?! Tell me why. I'll wait.

[Dark Lord]

The trek to the towers is a study in contrasts- the majestic view and the abject (albeit distant) poverty. Juan’s gregarious tour-guidance, and Exe’s sullen resentment of all things deific. The dialogue between you punctuated by the young man’s outburst, after which silence (and a lot of enjoying the view). Before you leave, Kaedras makes sure to take Allison aside.

"Child... I need you to make me a promise. Although Master Metri came out of the Mystic Engine, you must promise me that you will never, never try to go in. The mystic engine is not safe to touch."

Allison nods solemnly, her eyes wide with apprehension. ”I promise.” she says in all seriousness. At that point, Datephus pipes up ”PERHAPS DEPENDENT DESIGNATE: ALLISON WOULD BE MORE COMFORTABLLE IN THE LOUNGE. I CAN ACCESS ENTERTAINMENT MODULES TO KEEP HER OCCUPIED DURING YOUR ABSENCE. AND REINFORCE THE CONTAINMENT FIELDS AROUND THE MYSTIC GENERATOR.” If you decide to leave Allison, the AI will attempt to keep her entertained.

In the tower, Metri takes the time to appreciate the art and see what he can learn about the local culture from it. What he sees though, doesn’t paint a coherent picture (metaphorically speaking). He thinks he recognizes a handful of pieces from disparate worlds around the Thundercloud Galaxy, and some of the works clearly depict figures physically similar to Juan, but stylistically the pieces are all over the place. Some of them are even tasteful. When Joan arrives, Draggor at least feels appropriately dressed- Juan’s sister is all dressed up. She is accompanied by a stout woman- best described a series of oak tree trunks were attached to a sequoia, and she takes in the rest of you as Juan’s sister sweeps him into an embrace and the godling introduces the rest of his teammates. She greets all of you with a grand smile, her eyes pausing for the briefest of moments on Draggor, but she practically squeals with delight when Exe introduces himself. ”Johnny, is this a child? Did you finally adopt?!? Oh, how wonderful! I always told you you were missing out by not having a family. Oh, the clan will be thrilled to meet you young one! Your timing is impeccable, as always Johnny. Peg and Jeb were here visiting when your friend showed up, and I know he said to keep this quiet but we’re expecting some dignitaries from the United Worlds of Warlock and I simply could not resist the chance to show off such an august guest! I’m keeping it a surprise, of course, but if we want an open trade pact with their federation we need to be able to demonstrate everything we have to offer. It’s a dangerous time in the Three Galaxies, Johnny; we need more friends outside of our own world.” She pauses, then adds as an afterthought ”Anyway, he was quite upset with me and demanded to speak with your leader as soon as you all arrived. I can take you to him, but please try not to make a mess. The Urqos have spent days getting the place ready.”

During this monologue, Peg has sidled up to Icky and speaks in a husky voice. ”A priest, huh? Dionysus, that’s pretty neat. You’ll have to show me some of your religious ceremonies later. And I’ll show you some of mine- I’m the goddess of eating, you know. Seems like a natural fit with the god of wine. Wonder if there’s anything else that fits naturally.” she adds with a lascivious wink. Then, the rather large woman (a good half a foot taller than Icky) sniffs deeply, and leans heavily on his arm (all 900 pounds of her) before whispering ”Sooo… Is that animal magnetism you’ve got all-natural, or have you been a naughty boy?” Another wink.

Peg will continue to hang on Icky (figuratively speaking if she shakes her off) unless the minotaur goes with Starchief to see Thraxus. Joan will take any of you who wish to see your employer, and leave either Juan or one of the house Urqos to show the rest of the team around (if Icky stays, Peg will immediately volunteer to “Show you a few things.”). Exe keeps an eye out for things of value, but doesn’t spot much unless the art is worth something (it isn’t).

Joan takes you through a few twisting hallways, before finally opening an unassuming bedroom and showing you in. ”I keep telling him that he underestimates the strength of our hospitality. Tried to offer him something nicer, but he insisted-” before being cut off as Thraxus rounds on you and growls ”Finally.” Keeping a tight leash on his temper, his eyes shift to Joan and he says, ”Thank you, madame hostess. I would like to speak to my team in private now, please.” Joan shows you in, before leaving and closing the door with a smile. A tabby cat sits in a sunbeam nearby, apparently oblivious to all of you. After Joan leaves, Thraxus exhales heavily. ”This may have been a mistake. No help for it now. I’m not sure how much you were able to deduce about what happened or why, but I can tell you what I know. You probably saw the mobs gathering in Center- I did some investigating before I left but they were all seemingly harmless. Mostly dispossessed rabble who mobilized using the ‘net. When they turned, it caught all of us by surprise- they immediately overwhelmed the local security forces and made straight for the Manors. For me.”

”This was a targeted attack. I assume some of those… things had some means of locating me mystically. Which meant that Phase World is no longer safe for me- sooner or later, that mob would have breached my defenses through sheer force of numbers. Worse, until we understand what caused their transformation, the same thing could happen anywhere. Secrecy is my best defense, and that woman simply refuses to understand that. Tell me you have something so I can get off this godsforsaken rock!”

What are you doing?

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [97] = 97 | 27%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [10] = 10 | 1d100: [76] = 76

Post
Draggor feels rewarded for dressing up, driving a slightly more relaxed posture this point forward. These godlings might be able to notice us quickly. Nothing to do about it then. How cavalier of you! The inner dialogue happens during that brief pause of locked gazes with Joan, only for the creature to grin broadly at the sudden pivot and excited, if very, very wrong presumption of Exe's relation to Juan!

"It’s a dangerous time in the Three Galaxies, Johnny; we need more friends outside of our own world.”

This draws particular interest from them. We need more friends. We're also on the run. We are protected. Like that will stop them? Our friends will come for us. You act like we haven't had friends before. Can't keep hiding. Need to build. As for learning that Thraxus wants to speak with the leader of the Galactic Adventurers, Draggor makes sure to go along for that, insisting if need be.

Once inside the room and seemingly "alone", it's hard to say what Joan will hear or understand just by having Juan in the room. Datephus's records did say twins here have an even stronger bond when in close proximity. At Thraxus's mention of "the 'net", the monster perks up, and waits for the plea to leave this system. "Servers related to attacks in lower levels, all about here, Rate-A-Deity." Draggor leaves further, more detailed explanations to the rest of the crew if pressed.

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [85] = 85 | 39%
JIC: 1d20: [10] = 10 | d%: [67] = 67 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 800ft (no-magic). 1800ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [8] = 8 | 84%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [55] = 55 | 90%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. d%: [94] = 94 | 94%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 159/159
ISP: 260/260
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 72/72
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

"Either really, my training is unorthodox, I was raised as an assassin for..." Ghast starts, put pauses. "No matter, I am fairly well rounded in my abilities, both ranged and melee, plus a smattering of other skills that make my former profession easier."

"Endeavor I will to supplement your well rounded abilities then," Metri offers with a slight nod of respect. He does not apply any pressure for Ghast to share anything more than he is comfortable with.

Upon finding a small opportunity, Draggor approaches Metri, "Sorry to not reintroduce," they say, and pause, before holding up two fingers, "Joined on your second loop. Been with since."

Metri looks up at Draggor with large saucer-shaped eyes and beams him a broad smile. "Grateful I am for the reintroduction. Difficult to remember clearly my second loop was." The Yhabbayar unconsciously reaches toward his chest where the coup-de-grace was delivered. Once the moment of solemn reflection passes, he looks back up at the immortal, "Unconvinced I am by your ancient exterior. Great goodness I sense within. Deeds of heroism, sacrifice, valor, yesss. Welcome I do, the opportunity to re-acquaint myself with you Draggor, hmm." And again, a broad, warm smile is plastered across the Yhabbayar's face.

"Ha haha, probably not. I mean, I'm just a kid. With an eagle.. Oh, have you met Corus!?" Exe suddenly exclaims, derailing the deific topic. "You've gotta meet Corus, oh and Matthew. Corus is my best friend. Matthew is sorta... uh, like a body guard I guess right now." Exe explains dismissively.

Metri nods acquiescently and pads along to be shown Corus and Matthew. Looking broadly at the two, he bows his head slightly to each in turn and introduces himself, "Metri" with a tridactyl palm on his chest. This youth is indeed remarkable. What powerful allies he surrounds himself with.

"Drawn to you these faithful companions are, hmm?" Metri asks Exe. If confirmed, the Yhabbayar will nod knowingly to himself and remarks aloud to nobody in particular, "Fascinating the mind of a child is." Then, though speaking of Exe, Metri sustains compassionate eye contact with Matthew, his protector, "Important decisions ahead. Opportunities for development... But freedom to make choices, to make mistakes, a critical part of the learning process is, hmm."

---

Later, in the Tower, Metri enjoys his innocuous presence in the background and observes the interactions between deific beings with interest.

”Johnny, is this a child? Did you finally adopt?!? Oh, how wonderful! I always told you you were missing out by not having a family. Oh, the clan will be thrilled to meet you young one! Your timing is impeccable, as always Johnny. Peg and Jeb were here visiting when your friend showed up, and I know he said to keep this quiet but we’re expecting some dignitaries from the United Worlds of Warlock and I simply could not resist the chance to show off such an august guest! I’m keeping it a surprise, of course, but if we want an open trade pact with their federation we need to be able to demonstrate everything we have to offer. It’s a dangerous time in the Three Galaxies, Johnny; we need more friends outside of our own world.”

They too can sense Exe's exceptional nature and consider him of an equivalent status. Time and experience will reveal more of his abilities and perhaps our path will become under the influence of deific politics. A slight shudder reverberates down Metri's spine at the thought of such Megaverse-impacting events.

Deciding his place to be more appropriately among the Urqos, Metri politely declines to follow the others to go meet with Thraxus. Instead, he will pad alongside whichever House Urqos is assigned to him to show him around. "Metri." he will introduce himself and look in askance for the Urqos' name.

Trust. d%: [15] = 15 | 92% <== Does this house urqos like/trust Metri?

"Dignitaries? From United Worlds of Warlocks, hmm?" the Yhabbayar prompts once the introduction is made, hoping to be rewarded with additional information that the servants might know but would be beneath the level of awareness of the deific hosts.

Should his House Urqos be the generous type, the Yhabbayar will try to learn a bit more about his/her role in making preparations. Then, Metri will try to guide the conversation to potentially address the following topics related to the UWW visit:

• How many dignitaries/ships are scheduled to arrive?
• How soon/When are they arriving?
• Is there a particular landing field where dignitary ships are granted special access? If so, where? <== Metri would like to get a look at it if possible and determine ease of approach should the 'visit' turn into something more akin to an 'invasion'
• Do Urqos contribute in any fashion to defense? Or are such matters left to the Yayamama? If so, where/what defensive emplacements exist?

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [18*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [7] = 7 / 1d100: [41] = 41

Armor
Cargo shorts
Teal tank top
Action Sandals
HPC bracelet

Weapons
Magical clubs with the Rings of Sha Los (2)

While showing classic works of Yayamama art to his teammates, Juan Echo notices Exe chafe under Matthew's tutelage. Even if Juan doesn't know exactly what Exe is, he can sense the demi-gods divine nature. He chuckles to himself, remembering a time when he wasn't much different from Exe.. Ah, the impetuousness of youth. We remember it fondly. He smiles, and tries to ignore Exe's outburst.

"Uh... sorry. Please continue."

Before moving to the next piece of art, Juan sidles next to Matthew and whispers, "I know it can be hard to provide guidance to a young... uh... whatever he is. But if you would like to appreciate the galleries later, I can give you a personal tour. The famed penciler Rob Leaf-elder sketched several portraits of me you might enjoy."

As Juan shows several other pieces of art, he makes sure that Matthew gets a good look at each of them. And as Juan introduces his teammates to his sister, Joan can't help but notice that he omits introducing Matthew. And she uses a cruel ploy to tease this out of her brother.

"Johnny, is this a child? Did you finally adopt?!? Oh, how wonderful! I always told you you were missing out by not having a family. Oh, the clan will be thrilled to meet you young one!"

Juan puts his hands up in a feigned defense. "No! No! I didn't bring another son to be raised by the house urqos." He gestures to Matthew and says, "The non-urqos child has a mystical guardian. This is Matthew." He smiles and radiates his thoughts to her. DIBS.

Joan then continues to update on Juan on the goings on in their part of the planet Yaya.

"Your timing is impeccable, as always Johnny. Peg and Jeb were here visiting when your friend showed up... The Urqos have spent days getting the place ready."

"That all sounds exciting, Joan," Juan replies. He then leans close to her and whispers "But what is Peg doing here? We've avoided each other ever since that thing."

You meant the thing that we're never supposed to speak of? Juan taps his nose, and puts his arm around his sister's shoulder as she leads them to Thraxus. When Thraxus orders her out, he gives her a quick glance and a wink. I will let you know what is happening, Joan. We need to catch up immediately after this.

"This may have been a mistake... Tell me you have something so I can get off this godsforsaken rock!"

"Servers related to attacks in lower levels, all about here, Rate-A-Deity."

Juan doesn't bat an eye at Thraxus disparaging comments. The antipathy between the Lord of the Manors and the Yayamama is well documented. In the back of his mind, he can hear Joan thinking, I will make the most wonderful snack kit for that pompous prig if he gets the fux off my planet. But Juan understands the stakes of his work with the Adventurers and maintains a professional courtesy. "Draggor (so he's not an urqos? I don't think so) is correct. We followed the horde of demons to Level 9, and found them circling the headquarters to Rate-A-Deity. There we met a crew of urqos that were trying to take a server. One of them was injured by the device, Urqos Kaedras and Priest Icky. We left the machine with Doodles."

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [14] = 14 /52%
Just in Case: 1d20: [11] = 11 ; 1d100: [58] = 58
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive)

H.P.: 27/22
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 239/239
Current Outfit: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor, Clothes (Beaten Up Cargo Pants, Worn Thermal Undershirt, Wool Vest), Scarf, Goggles (Around Neck), Combat boots, Weapon Harness, Utility Belt, Battered Long Coat.

Certainly is a relation to Juan. Ghast thinks as he looks at a peculiar petrified blue ball. Odd. Ghast thinks as he turns his attention to Joan arrives and the others begin talking and moving. "Probably the opposite of a sound idea to let anyone know he's here." Ghast says to Joan. Nobel's worst threat to themselves, seems to follow the same vein with gods. Ghast thinks as Thraxus begins his tirade. Ghast doesn't have anything to add so he just keeps silent for the moment.

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [8] = 8 /39%
JiC: 1d20: [5] = 5 | 1d100: [82] = 82

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min | Alter Aura [Hide deific-nature from Thraxus to start.] | See Aura [See Thraxus's Aura] |

MDC: 147/147 PPE: 276/282 ISP: 33/35

Skills:
Art: 1d100: [10] = 10 /61% (Exe appreciates art)
Invoke Trust: 1d100: [31] = 31 /81% (Make Thraxus less dismissive of a child)

Post:

”Johnny, is this a child? Did you finally adopt?!? Oh, how wonderful! I always told you you were missing out by not having a family. Oh, the clan will be thrilled to meet you young one!

"No! No! I didn't bring another son to be raised by the house urqos." "The non-urqos child has a mystical guardian. This is Matthew."

Whatever Exe was thinking about before vanishes as the young demigod darts his head to look at Joan Echo then to Juan as he quickly denies it. Matthew is seen visibly taking the lightest of side-steps away as Exe nods in approval of Juan's comment. "Hi, I'm Exe." Exe adds briefly after this comment with a light wave and smile.

Your timing is impeccable, as always Johnny. Peg and Jeb were here visiting when your friend showed up, and I know he said to keep this quiet but we’re expecting some dignitaries from the United Worlds of Warlock and I simply could not resist the chance to show off such an august guest! I’m keeping it a surprise, of course, but if we want an open trade pact with their federation we need to be able to demonstrate everything we have to offer. It’s a dangerous time in the Three Galaxies, Johnny; we need more friends outside of our own world.” ... ”Anyway, he was quite upset with me and demanded to speak with your leader as soon as you all arrived. I can take you to him, but please try not to make a mess. The Urqos have spent days getting the place ready.”

Exe gladly takes a back seat during this chat and just meanders around the room with Matthew standing near the others but maintaining visible line of sight. As Exe looks at the varied art, he looks back and tries listening some more until Joan mentions Thraxus demanding to speak with them all. Exe sighs and rejoins the group. "I still haven't met him officially, yet." Exe mutters to anyone as they head to where Thraxus is staying.

”Finally.” ... ”Thank you, madame hostess. I would like to speak to my team in private now, please.”

Exe can be seen visibly rolling his eyes at Thraxus's growling of finally, prompting the young demigod to cross his arms. "Yup, 'bout what I expected." Exe says to no one in specific.

”This may have been a mistake. No help for it now. I’m not sure how much you were able to deduce about what happened or why, but I can tell you what I know. You probably saw the mobs gathering in Center- I did some investigating before I left but they were all seemingly harmless. Mostly dispossessed rabble who mobilized using the ‘net. When they turned, it caught all of us by surprise- they immediately overwhelmed the local security forces and made straight for the Manors. For me.”

Exe stiffles a scoff. Can you blame them. Exe thinks and then sighs to himself. No. Don't think like that... he needs help. Exe mentally wrestles.

”This was a targeted attack. I assume some of those… things had some means of locating me mystically. Which meant that Phase World is no longer safe for me- sooner or later, that mob would have breached my defenses through sheer force of numbers. Worse, until we understand what caused their transformation, the same thing could happen anywhere. Secrecy is my best defense, and that woman simply refuses to understand that. Tell me you have something so I can get off this godsforsaken rock!”

Exe listens in, communicating with his ariel advisor silently. So... what do you think? Exe asks his ariel after Thraxus finishes his story.

"Draggor (so he's not an urqos? I don't think so) is correct. We followed the horde of demons to Level 9, and found them circling the headquarters to Rate-A-Deity. There we met a crew of urqos that were trying to take a server. One of them was injured by the device, Urqos Kaedras and Priest Icky. We left the machine with Doodles."

Exe nods and adds. "Your tower was assaulted but not actually breached as well, so. Like, security was all still fully up." Exe pips up, thinking back to when he was able to open a door but spotted all the warding and the like.

===================
Ariel Perception: 1d100: [92] = 92 /25%
JiC: 1d20: [3] = 3 | 1d100: [53] = 53

Conditions: HF/Awe: 12 | Nightvision (200ft) | See Invisible (At Will) | Bio-Regen (4d6/min) | Speak and understand all languages

MDC: 660/660 PPE: 440/440 ISP: 158/160

Matthew stays with the group during the trip. Once requested for his opinion by Exe, Matthew studies Thraxus as best the wizened ariel can to offer his input.

[Captain Andra Sekona]

Perception: [roll]1d100[/roll]/62%
JIC: [roll]1d20[/roll]/[roll]1d100[/roll]

"Your followers know how to party, Juan Echo!" Starchief follows to the tower as the theme song continues playing.

The art in the foyer gets a raised eyebrow from Andra. "That is ummm... somebody's version of tasteful. Wow... you do that here? With the local fruit?"

"My dear Urqos, this is my sister, Juan Echo, the Goddess of Hospitality. Joni, this is my team, the Galactic Adventurers. The Urqos Andra is our team leader and a very honorable warrior.

Hello soldier boy.

Oh! Starchief gives his half of the Seeronian greeting before saying "Ms Joan Echo, thank you for welcoming our crew into your majestic home. We hope to make our stay as pleasant as possible."

”Anyway, he was quite upset with me and demanded to speak with your leader as soon as you all arrived. I can take you to him, but please try not to make a mess. The Urqos have spent days getting the place ready.”

"He has a tendency to do that." Starchief chimes in. He follows to Thraxus' unassuming chambers and closes the door behind whoever joins him.

”This may have been a mistake. No help for it now. I’m not sure how much you were able to deduce about what happened or why, but I can tell you what I know. You probably saw the mobs gathering in Center- I did some investigating before I left but they were all seemingly harmless. Mostly dispossessed rabble who mobilized using the ‘net. When they turned, it caught all of us by surprise- they immediately overwhelmed the local security forces and made straight for the Manors. For me.”

”This was a targeted attack. I assume some of those… things had some means of locating me mystically. Which meant that Phase World is no longer safe for me- sooner or later, that mob would have breached my defenses through sheer force of numbers. Worse, until we understand what caused their transformation, the same thing could happen anywhere. Secrecy is my best defense, and that woman simply refuses to understand that. Tell me you have something so I can get off this godsforsaken rock!”

"We spent much of our time defending the lower levels from the fallout of whatever was targeting you. Your defenses were enough to keep us out and all investigations lead nowhere. The things just kept pouring in after you left. And there was something about a computer that overwhelmed anyone with psychic abilities. Basically, what Juan Echo and Draggor here said. So, no. I don't have anything for you besides a ship and a gun. Do you know why these things were coming after you? That might help us get to the bottom of it all."

[Dark Lord]

While the rest of you follow Joan to the boss, Metri demurely slips away and finds himself in the company of a nervous, but pleasant young man. ”G…good day, ah, sir. Any who travel with The Traveler are honored guests in this home. It is my priviledge to show you, uhm, th… the art.” The poor fellow points grandly and makes a valiant effort to serve as tour guide and art historian, but quickly proves out of his depth and all too happy to change topics. Not exactly taking advantage of the fellow’s nerves, Metri calms him down and gently steers the conversation in the direction he wants it. Unfortunately, the young man proves only marginally more knowledgeable about the topics of interest. As you idly stroll through the corridors, he puts on a smile at actually being able to answer a question. ”Oh, tomorrow sir! It’s all anybody’s been talking about for weeks. I don’t know where they’re from, exactly.” A little more crestfallen now. ”Can’t say as to how many neither, but if anyone’d know it’d be The Chef.” The reverence with which the man says this suggests that it is no ordinary title. ”He came down here with The Eater four days ago, and he’s been in the kitchens ever since. Preparing for tomorrow night’s banquet. Can you imagine? All manner of visitors from the stars, FOUR members of the Echo Yul, and, uh you and the rest of Juan’s followers. Oh! And I heard from one of the others that her holiness Joan is keeping some sort of mystery guest hidden away in one of the spare rooms. I bet she’s just planning a grand surprise, don’t you think? It’s all so exciting!” He is beaming like a much, much younger man now- then he blinks. ”Uh, did you have another question?” As far as the landing site, the man gestures vaguely back the way you came. ”Not a lot of flat land in the mountains. Dunno how big your ship is, but chances are that’s where the others’ll be coming in too. I, ah, can’t speak much to military matters sir. Sorry sir. Is there, uh, anywhere in particular you’d like to see? I can take you to The Chef if you’d like to talk more about the other visitors.”

The rest of you continue on your way. Several of you make polite comment to your hostess and one another. She fixes Starchief with a dazzling smile and then gets engaged with some catching up with Johnny.

"But what is Peg doing here? We've avoided each other ever since that thing."

”Oh, Johnny.” she says as he takes him aside and half-whispers. ”Why you insist on bringing that up at every possible opportunity I will never understand. If we want to put our best feet forward, then we need The Chef. He’s in the kitchens as we speak- you should see him! He still thinks you’re dead- oh this is going to be hilarious. I’m so glad we could call him back from off-world for this.”

“Anyway, the two of them are a package deal; you know that. Can you imagine? Always having to stay in the vicinity of your sibling.” She shudders in mock horror (it is mock, right?). Her eyes twinkling, she turns back to regard Icky- Kaedras has acquired a bit of a headache, and Icky is using it as an excuse to extricate himself from Peg. Gotta take the kid fer a lie-down, right? The Eater watches him go, and Joan adds ”That big, beefy priest looks like he can take care of himself. I guess we’ll find out.” she adds with a smirk.

And then it’s time for Thraxus to be his usual charming self. Draggor mentions the servers and Juan provides a few more details on the company running them, Rate-A-Deity. Starchief briefly sketches out their battle in the lower levels of Center, prompting a frown from Thraxus. ”Before I left they were directed, as if by a single mind. The rift I used to get here must have interfered with their efforts to track me- through disruption or distance, who knows. Afterwards, you’re telling me that they went down to the lower levels? For what purpose- mere aimless destruction? That doesn’t fit with the intelligent nature of the attack that I observed. And the only thing we have to go on is a computer.” Thraxus growls in frustration and turns away. Exe at that point mentions that Thraxus’ defenses were largely intact. The godling stares at Exe (who is on his best behavior) for a fraction of a second before absently waving away whatever thought he had. ”That makes sense. It was a brute force attack- they tried to breach my defenses simply by throwing bodies at them. Eventually, if I had just sat there, it would have worked. Hence why I would also like as few people to know my whereabouts as possible.” he adds with a nod to Ghast.

Turning to Juan, Thraxus says ”You need to prevail upon your sister to let me skip this banquet she’s planning. I don’t care how good she is at keeping the secret ahead of time- the sheer number of people likely to be at this thing presents an unacceptable level of exposure.” Then, back to Starchief. ”So some sort of server affiliated with this… website” He says it as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. ”May have drawn the demons to it after the attack on the Manors failed. And yes, I’d like to know why I’m the target too. Your recent activities haven’t exactly been low-profile, and I had plenty of other operations during the Minion War. Some of them could have been compromised by our mutual enemies. So I’d say the list of suspects starts with them and goes down from there.” He says bitterly. ”Well, I always knew this wasn’t going to be easy. At least I still have both arms.”

”For now, we do have an opportunity to do a little digging on the state of internal politics in the UWW. If Joan is to be believed, representatives from several factions will be arriving tomorrow. Including some very major players in the Worlds. See if any of them know anything about this Rate-A-Deity. After all the UWW includes more deities than anyone, it’s impossible that no-one there knows anything. Maybe find out what the Hades their servers were doing in Center- there are much safter places, much closer to home to go for cheap real estate. And for the love of the Gods, keep my name out of it and my presence here under wraps. If we can’t stop this… whatever this is, at the source before the next outbreak I…” He closes his eyes and swallows, hard, before taking a deep breath and continuing. ”I will need to come with you. Hopefully, just until we find and neutralize the threat.”

By the time you finish your various tours and/or conversations (feel free to continue dialogue with Thraxus), it is getting close to dinner. Some modest food is set out by the urqos, but clearly they’re saving the big guns for the banquest so it’s all relatively plain fare. But hearty and delicious nonetheless. You’ll be shown to sleeping quarters if you want to stay in the residence, or you can return to your bunk on the ship (where, presumably, Datephus is still babysitting Allison).

What are you doing?

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [21*] = 1
JiC 1d20: [9] = 9 / 1d100: [4] = 4

Armor
Cargo shorts
Teal tank top
Action Sandals
HPC bracelet

Weapons
Magical clubs with the Rings of Sha Los (2)

"Oh, Jonny. Why you insist on bringing that up at every possible opportunity I will never understand."

Juan Echo suspiciously eyes his sister, Peg. She does not make any attempt to acknowledge the Wanderer. She said she is more than happy to pretend you are still dead. How long will she keep to that? I don't know, how long do they usually stay mad at you afterwards?

"If we want to put our best feet forward, then we need The Chef. He’s in the kitchens as we speak- you should see him! He still thinks you’re dead- oh this is going to be hilarious. I’m so glad we could call him back from off-world for this."

"I should do that" Juan says wryly. "I'm sure that he will show a whole emotion." He sighs, taking in the sense of home he did not realize that he missed. "I suppose it could be worse. Lo-La could be visiting."

"Anyway, the two of them are a package deal; you know that. Can you imagine? Always having to stay in the vicinity of your sibling."

Juan laughs, and kisses his sister on the forehead. "I missed you too."

Juan then rejoins the group, making a point of avoiding Peg. During the walk to visit Thraxus he contemplates his travels. He looks at his teammates, and then glances at Joan. She winks and then glances at a couple of the other members of the Adventurers. It's reassuring to back, but this time it is different. I am not returning after a voyage. This is a waypoint in my current travels. Who knows where we will go next.

"You need to prevail upon your sister to let me skip this banquet she’s planning. I don’t care how good she is at keeping the secret ahead of time- the sheer number of people likely to be at this thing presents an unacceptable level of exposure."

"I will speak to her," Juan replies. "As the Goddess of Hospitality, Joan can get very focused when she is organizing a rager. I am impressed that she managed to bring together so many important guests together. I wonder why they are visiting. Joni doesn't usually host political summits."

"For now, we do have an opportunity to do a little digging on the state of internal politics in the UWW... And for the love of the Gods, keep my name out of it and my presence here under wraps. If we can’t stop this... whatever this is, at the source before the next outbreak I... I will need to come with you. Hopefully, just until we find and neutralize the threat."

Juan taps the side of his head. "I think I know how we can keep you out of this Thraxus." He looks at the others gathered. "Many of you can serve as emissaries for your own homeworlds. Urqos Andra, you represent the the Big Seeronian Urqos Resistance. Priest Icky can represent the Dionysius if there are no other representatives from the Greek Pantheon. If I'm not mistaken, Urqos Metri is an ambassador for his people, right? And Urqos Kaedras has the Water Amulet, and thus an important figure." He glances as Exe, "I think you should know how to deal with important inter-galactic officials too. Draggor and Urqos Ghast, you are both my illustrious guests. Represent yourselves."

After the meeting ends, Juan heads to the kitchen to find his brother. If the Wanderer knows the Chef, then the kitchen is lined with bins of various cuts of various meats soaking in rich marinades. Large pots of buffalo chilli are simmering on the stoves. Juan takes a taste from a ladle before sneaking behind his brother, and in a loud monotone says, "Jeb!"

"You look as nonplussed as if you'd seen an actual ghost! It is good to see you. Tell me what is on the menu for tomorrow. I didn't realize that Joni had called you to host my surprise return banquet! Tell me what's new in the Tepix Flats." Juan prods his brother for everything he can about the next day. Why are they visiting the planet Yaya? Why is Joan hosting this event? Are there any delegations that Juan should know? Are any other deities from the Yayamama Pantheon arriving? After catching up with Jeb, Juan will go to the main dining hall to share a simple meal with the other Adventurers. He will recount for them everything that Jeb tells him about the big banquet.

When the meal is over, Juan says, "My good and dear urqos, it is time for me to retire." He looks at his teammates and then adds, "My own apartments have two guest bedrooms, a hot tub, and ah... a swing, if anyone wants to stay here. Joan also has her own guest quarters and I'm sure she would be happy to host you as well." The Wanderer then heads up to his private suite on the 113th floor of the tower. A house urqos will be there to toss dates into Juan's mouth from across the salon and pour jug-aged corn beer into a funnel for his lord and savior. It is good to be a deity.

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [47] = 47 | 27%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [11] = 11 | 1d100: [21] = 21

Post

"And for the love of the Gods, keep my name out of it and my presence here under wraps. If we can’t stop this… whatever this is, at the source before the next outbreak I…” He closes his eyes and swallows, hard, before taking a deep breath and continuing. ”I will need to come with you. Hopefully, just until we find and neutralize the threat.”

Wants to lay low... Yet might need to come with us? That little contradiction, the Galactic Adventurers are not subtle, keeps Draggor occupied for the rest of the discussion with Thraxus.

Juan taps the side of his head. "I think I know how we can keep you out of this Thraxus." He looks at the others gathered. "Many of you can serve as emissaries for your own homeworlds. Urqos Andra, you represent the the Big Seeronian Urqos Resistance. Priest Icky can represent the Dionysius if there are no other representatives from the Greek Pantheon. If I'm not mistaken, Urqos Metri is an ambassador for his people, right? And Urqos Kaedras has the Water Amulet, and thus an important figure." He glances as Exe, "I think you should know how to deal with important inter-galactic officials too. Draggor and Urqos Ghast, you are both my illustrious guests. Represent yourselves."

The creature is suddenly pulled from their thoughts! Represent ourselves?! That... ...is something we used to do more often. Fresh start. Maybe more necessary than we think... With Juan off to meet another family member, Draggor makes a casual pace to the dining hall, finding an urqos to ask about the food offerings: of all the pleasantries this new life has offered, the consistent quantity and quality of fine food stands out the most. Whereas they might "attack" a plate of food aboard the ship or in private, the beast provides extra effort to adapt to their surroundings.

With Juan declaring the end of the public side of his evening, Draggor has ideas for their own. "Going to stay here," they say softly, if bluntly, to the rest of the Adventurers. Whether or not it's obvious, the creature will be on the lookout for Joan, and if necessary simply asks "Joan Echo?" to a house urqos for whereabouts and possibly directions.

Should a meeting be successful, Draggor greets with a small bow, "Said you need more friends. We.. I, feel the same." If this doesn't produce an invitation, they follow with, "Not returning to ship, Juan mentioned... guest space?"

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [69] = 69 | 39%
JIC: 1d20: [20] = 20 | d%: [34] = 34 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 800ft (no-magic). 1800ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [29] = 29 | 84%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [37] = 37 | 90%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. d%: [73] = 73 | 94%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 159/159
ISP: 260/260
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 72/72
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

Metri remains warm-spirited, comforting and polite to his tour guide despite his not having as many answers as the Yhabbayar may like. Is it that this individual does not see it worth my time to know his name in particular? Based on Juan's prior behavior, they most likely do have names... I am Urqos Metri to him after all. The cultural nuances of the Yayamama are distinct and likely have particular ramifications.

”Oh, tomorrow sir! It’s all anybody’s been talking about for weeks.”

The Yhabbayar's ears perk up all of a sudden, "Busy everyone is making preparations, hmm? Or a rarity to have visitors on this planet it is?" There is a pause of slight awkwardness as Metri wants to use his tour guide's name, but clearly does not have it.

"Catch your name I did not," the Yhabbayar says, directly confronting the missing information. Assuming that his guide provides it, Metri will use it from then on.

”He came down here with The Eater four days ago, and he’s been in the kitchens ever since. Preparing for tomorrow night’s banquet. Can you imagine? All manner of visitors from the stars, FOUR members of the Echo Yul, and, uh you and the rest of Juan’s followers. Oh! And I heard from one of the others that her holiness Joan is keeping some sort of mystery guest hidden away in one of the spare rooms. I bet she’s just planning a grand surprise, don’t you think? It’s all so exciting!”

The Chef AND The Eater?! Sounds like the banquet fit for gods will be THE place to be! Skorl's voice muses enthusiastically in Metri's mind. The Yhabbayar feels almost as if the Norse warrior is mentally salivating at the possibilities. I beg your patience for the day. I believe we will be in attendance. But in the meantime, we need to focus on what we can learn in advance of the banquet. If nefarious forces are at play, the banquet will be the ideal time and location to strike. Metri can practically feel Skorl's nod. Yea... even more reason I'm eager for the banquet... wine, women, songs... and smiting evil! Sounds like the perfect menu for me!

Smiling broadly at his guide's renewed enthusiasm, Metri nods in agreement, "New sights, new sounds, feasting and full bellies, yesss." Then pointing a tridactyl finger gently toward his guide, he asks, "Joining the festivities you and the other Urqos will, yes? Hmm?"

"Sorry sir. Is there, uh, anywhere in particular you’d like to see? I can take you to The Chef if you’d like to talk more about the other visitors.”

"Engaged with pantheon my companions are. Lives of the Urqos my main interest is. Take me to see, hmm?" Metri inquires. Should the answer from his guide be 'no', red flags will be raised in the Yhabbayar's mind and he will try to become more insistent at convincing him.

Trust. d%: [37] = 37 | 92% <== Convince guide to trust Metri and show the Yhabbayar the Urqos (either as-is daily lives or current active preparations for the banquet)
Anthropology. d%: [74] = 74 | 80% <== Gain insight on these Urqos and cultural implications

Assuming his guide agrees, Metri will express his gratitude and pad along quietly to be shown Urqos living. ((presumably they are not all on Rate-A-Deity in their spare time))

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [46] = 46 /39%
JiC: 1d20: [4] = 4 | 1d100: [85] = 85

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min | Alter Aura [Hide PPE/Psionics] |

MDC: 147/147 PPE: 276/282 ISP: 33/35

Skills:
Prowl: 1d100: [90] = 90 /56% (Soft steps) (Exe is not quiet)
Lore, Dimensions: 1d100: [90] = 90 /61% (Interesting persons?) (Exe has no ideas)

Post:

Exe begins to sneak out of the room as Thraxus continues on about potentially needing to be on the ship and some other crazy shenangians that Exe simply can't hear. When Juan starts talking about who could potentially attend the intergalactic politicial deific summit of hell, Exe tries really hard to teleport away before being mentioned.

"I think you should know how to deal with important inter-galactic officials too. "

"Ah haha, yeah, I doubt they'll take a teenager seriously." Exe scoffs, shrugging his shoulders. His shoulders drop. I wanted to avoid the deific, not hang out with them. Exe mentally groans. "So, where are these rooms we're staying in?" Exe asks and will then go and find his room. Matthew prepares a small meditation area as Exe turns to his ariel. "I'm going to go have a look around, if anyone asks, I'm meditating." Exe tells his ariel who shows visible disapproval but nods. "Be wise of where you are." Matthew states as he sits cross legged on the pad and closes his eyes.

Exe shrugs and leaves the room. Just gonna go looking around, see what's doing what. Not causing trouble. Exe thinks to himself, not really comfortable to sleep in a place like this. To start, Exe isn't trying to hide until he knows he's somewhere he shouldn't be, then he will use Shadow Meld or Invisibility Simple to add to his peekaboo level and stay out of sight as best as possible while looking for something interesting to follow.

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [66] = 66 /52%
Just in Case: 1d20: [10] = 10 ; 1d100: [8] = 8
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive)

H.P.: 27/22
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 239/239
Current Outfit: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor, Clothes (Beaten Up Cargo Pants, Worn Thermal Undershirt, Wool Vest), Scarf, Goggles (Around Neck), Combat boots, Weapon Harness, Utility Belt, Battered Long Coat.

Ghast listens to their erstwhile employer and richest being in the three galaxies. Ghast then continues to listen to the others, when Juan Echo talks of a possible plan that doesn't involve Thraxis being paraded around, he nods. "If that's what we have to do to keep trouble off the doorstep." Ghast says, but has little else to add to the conversation.

When the food arrives, Ghast digs in, his heightened metabolism needing the extra nutrients. Ghast finds the food easy to eat, and certainly better than some of the stuff he's eaten in the past. When rooms are offered, Ghast makes note of where his is, and then proceeds to wander about the tower, looking for points of egress and genuine security concerns. How would I break into this building. Likely as one of the support staff coming in. Why even bother, you could probably ship a bomb into this place without anyone really noticing. Ghast thinks to himself, or at himself, he's never really figured that part out. Shaking his head, but noting the thought for later inquiry.

Ghast will eventually find himself back in his quarters and attempt to sleep.

[Dark Lord]

Metri continues his investigation of the household urqos. Metri’s young guide stammers, then says ”Ah, Dulton ser. Dul for short. Bit of a joke, ha ha.” The young man seems to be uncomfortable talking about himself to such an august personage, and eagerly changes subjects back to the banquet. ”Well ser, Mistress Joan, her hospitality’s known far ‘n wide. So we get plenty of visitors, just not so much from off-world. It’s a big deal fer us, couldn’t say why now though. We, uh, aren’t really invited to the main banquet- aside from the servers and staff of course- but Mistress Joan always sees that we’re well taken care of. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to celebrate once all the work’s done.” After a brief internal dialogue with Skorl, Metri expresses a desire to see the Urqos and where they live. Dulton forgets to conceal his look of surprise for several seconds, before blinking and stammering ”O… of course, ser. Whatever you want- though I expect it’s a good deal more humble than you’re used to.” Dal leads Metri down a corridor, and he spends the next several hours showing Metri the lives of the urqos. The young man is correct- the dwellings are on the humble side- but they are also clean, spacious, and well-maintained. Everyone seems happy, healthy, and well-fed. Children play here and there but they generally keep out of the way of the adults and especially of Metri. When asked, however, it is clear that they adore Joan and by all indications the feeling is mutual. Every group of urqos that Dal takes him to see seems, on the surface at least, to be the model of a primitive utopia. Metri is impressed, maybe even a little surprised. Should he ask any of them about Juan, the reaction is not dissimilar to that towards Joan, but you get the sense that the urqos feel Juan is best appreciated from a distance. They are perfectly happy not to have him around, although more than a few fight to conceal their snickers at the prospect of his attendance at the banquet. When Metri meets up with his companions for dinner, he has found nothing but good things to report about this small slice of Yayamama society.

Meanwhile, Juan takes the lead in navigating his various relatives. Peg has eyes only for Icky, and failing that the larder. Maybe she’s happy to play along with her cousin, maybe she really is upset. Although, it wouldn’t be the first time she’s been… distracted from family matters, so maybe she’s just bored. She never did like these visits. After the discussion with Thraxus, Juan agrees to run interference with his sister. Those members of the Galactic Adventurers who are able can serve as semi-official emissaries, and the rest as Juan’s honored guests. That should be enough to raise the locals’ profile and prestige that no-one will feel the need to drag in Thraxus. The godling readily agrees, ”Yes, yes fine. That’ll give you all a good opportunity to pump the delegates for information. One of them must know something.” Whenever Juan presents this plan to Joan, she’ll pout and say ”But he’s the richest man in the Three Galaxies! Are you sure?” After a few minutes, however, Juan wears her down. Eight exotic guests are better than one, after all, and mentioning the commanding figure struck by the Seeronian envoy is all he needs to seal the deal. She agrees, and Juan then heads to the kitchens.

Once there, Juan greets Jeb- The Chef. Juan’s expectations are largely on point- the Chef is impassive, but growls ”Should’ve known you wouldn’t have the decency to stay dead if there’s a free meal to be had. Nice try, by the way, but this is for the visitors- so don’t touch a damned thing. Trust me, some of the stuff I’ve gottta make for these urqos is not what you call palatable. D’you know one of ‘em is a giant worm? I mean, a worm by the maker- what am I supposed to feed that? At least most of ‘em are human enough, but I don’t know what your sister was thinking with this one. It’s a good thing she called me.” The conversation briefly digresses into an outline of the menu- and it is extensive. Clearly, Jeb has been busy. There are a number of local delicacies that set Juan’s mouth to watering, with fond memories, and a number of more exotic dishes that sound either fantastically delicious or awful. The local news, on the other hand, is stale and bland. Old rivalries. Continuing stalemates. Drama, just about all of it pointless but entertaining. Eventually Juan is able to steer the conversation to the banquet, but Jeb doesn’t appear all that interested beyond meal prep. ”All she told me is that they’re coming. A bunch of them, all from the You-Dub-Dub. A few of those short bearded urqos, a few of the tall crazy ones who talk to the elements, and a buncha weird ones I’ve never heard of before. Something about a slave revolt. That’s where the worm’s from. You’re the traveler, aren’t you s’pposed to know these things? What the hell are you doing out there, anyway? Nobody else from the clan can make it- I think they’re still a little sauced with Peg, y’know about the thing.” He fights off a snicker. Having learned what he can from Jeb, Juan finishes up his rounds and then likewise rejoins the rest of the team.

Exe has gone his own way in true teenager style, and sneaks away none-too-subtly thanks to repeated stumbles over the Yayamama-sized steps and furniture. However, he apparently has free reign of the place, with Matthew gently shooing away any well-intentioned urqos who approach with the intent of escorting the young man but it doesn’t seem to be a problem. The only place of interest Exe really finds is the banquet hall, sporting a podium near the entrance that appears to have a small note atop it. Most of the writing is in Trade 1, so Exe can’t read it, but some of the writing is in a Dragonese script and he thinks it’s a series of names accompanied by 1-2 words each that he can’t read. Titles? Regardless, it is a list of 10 items. When the demands of the flesh become too much, Exe finds his way back to the others and joins for a meal.

The rest of you have passed the time checking on whatever living quarters you’re assigned in the complex (which are nicer than your ship berths, but not by much) and/or seeing how Kaedras is doing. After a simple dinner of whatever’s laying around, those of you who want to back to the ship can do so (but specify). Otherwise, you’ll be found reasonable quarters on-site. Juan offers up the use of his guest rooms, and makes a less-than-discreet reference to certain extracurriculars (Matthew endeavors to cover Exe’s ears at this). Ghast will indulge himself freely at dinner, then spend the rest of the evening doing a security sweep of the complex. It’s a pair of towers, surrounded by mountains, with a single entrance. Pretty defensible, but it’s anyone’s guess how the locals will fare of some Adventurers-brand trouble finds its way here. Eventually, he likewise retires to a restless sleep.

Draggor has been silent for most of the day and of dinner, and afterwards they excuse themselves to go in search of Joan Echo. The mistress of the house is never hard to find, especially if one asks an urqos, and before it gets scandalously late the alien knocks on her door and receives a warm ”Enter!” in response. There, Draggor introduces themselves and makes a somewhat awkward overture of friendship. Joan offers a dazzling smile in return, after a brief moment of surprise at Draggor’s initial entrance, and she says ”I am always happy to make new friends. Are you here as an emissary of your people? I know so little about them- my last visitor refused to stay long, and they told me nothing of your kind. I had always wanted to learn more.” She moves to a divan in one corner, lying against it and patting the seat next to her. You can talk further, but eventually Joan will announce that she needs her beauty sleep for the next day, and will bid Draggor a friendly good night.

Presumably, most if not all of you spend the evening in the two towers. Your sleep is restful enough, if a little uncomfortable at first due to the unfamiliar climate and surroundings (for everyone save Juan). You wake up the next day, and have most of the day to prepare- the banquet starts at six o’clock that evening, local time.

What are you doing?

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [12] = 12 | 27%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [19] = 19 | 1d100: [88] = 88

Post

”I am always happy to make new friends. Are you here as an emissary of your people? I know so little about them- my last visitor refused to stay long, and they told me nothing of your kind. I had always wanted to learn more.” She moves to a divan in one corner, lying against it and patting the seat next to her.

Our people? Our kind? Someone knows us? The creature uses the few moments granted by walking over and joining Joan to consider a proper response. "Only known of myself, here... the three galaxies, for many, many cycles. Adventurers, Juan, have given a home, a purpose. Means working for Thraxus." The most immediate confirmed bit of information when pressed is that Draggor is rather old compared to most of the Adventurers, save of course for Juan, and Joan before them. "Been.. away.. asleep, lost, forgot much of what I had. Must rebuild." It creates a convenient segue opportunity to tomorrow's events. "Tomorrow, potential allies? Great importance?" Coincidence with Thraxus? If it isn't mentioned or queried by Joan in that answer, they also ask, "How could we help? The Adventurers?"

At the end of the evening, Draggor accepts sleeping in guest chambers instead of prowling all night. It would be fun! Don't need any stories before tomorrow. As they drift off, they ponder this new life, and some of the unintended similarities to their most recent one: periods of otherwise routine existence on a ship punctuated by explosive, violent combats.

In the morning they reappear in the previous day's garb, though they are quick to ask anyone, godling or urqos, about access to a fine wardrobe so as not to be out of place for activities later. Additionally, should anyone offer it, anywhere Draggor could meet an arriving guest before the banquet begins.

Order of operations/intentions for the next day
1. Ask about: wardrobe, breakfast, where to meet (early) arriving guests
2. Join any of the Adventurers and/or locals, coordinate perhaps.
3. Depart, go find some new clean things to wear that evening.
4. Maybe go find a guest and introduce themselves.

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [80] = 80 | 39%
JIC: 1d20: [19] = 19 | d%: [12] = 12 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 800ft (no-magic). 1800ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [57] = 57 | 84%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [43] = 43 | 90%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. d%: [91] = 91 | 94%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 159/159
ISP: 260/260
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 72/72
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

Metri enjoys his time drinking in his time with the Urqos. The Yhabbayar's spirit is lifted through the innocent joy infused in their daily lives. He finds himself smiling broadly and psychically echoing the warmth and mirth they give off.

"Filled with gratitude I am Dulton. Shared with me a glimpse into your precious lives. Understand I do your devotion to your providers and guardians, yesss." Metri remarks after the tour is complete.

Seemed like daily life. Skorl muses within Metri's mind. Agreed. Based on their devotion and livelihood, it seems very unlikely that they could become embroiled in the mysterious chaos that the others had to fight off at Center.

When back with the others at dinner, should he be asked about his absence, Metri will describe his time spent with some of the urqos. "Primitive utopia." he will distinctly characterize their lives. Should he catch Juan's (or Joan's) gaze at any point, he will nod in gracious appreciation.

As the evening draws to a close, Metri will return to the comfort of the DSM rather than partake of the guest accommodations. He will check in on Alison and tuck her into bed if Icky has not done so already.

Within the familiar walls of the ship, the Yhabbayar will rest via meditation and every 4 hours will astral project to keep updated on the arrival of any of the other guests ((presumably by the appearance of their ship on the landing platform)). Should he spot any of their arrivals, Metri will observe inconspicuously at a distance. Remembering that one of the benefits of the DSM is their ship's AI, he will try to enlist it in his quest to keep an eye on the activity on the landing platform. "Datephus, notification you can provide of incoming ships, hmm?"

Come morning, Metri will break his fast with a light and practical meal bar from the ship's galley. He will again check in on Alison and will radio the team who partook of the guest accommodations. "Aside from banquet in the evening, other commitments we have, hmm? Wish to observe the arrival of the guests from the DSM. Yess."

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [51] = 0
JiC 1d20: [1] = 1 / 1d100: [51] = 51

Armor
Cargo shorts
White tank top
Action Sandals
HPC bracelet

Weapons
Magical clubs with the Rings of Sha Los (2)

Maybe it's the fact that they haven't spoken in years, or the fact that Jeb isn't his twin sister, Peg, but this is this might be the most enjoyable conversation Juan has ever had with his brother. Granted it is not saying much, but by Juan's count, Jeb has shown three whole emotions: irritation (that Juan is alive), exasperation (at the size and variety of the menu he has to make), and pride in his craft. That has to be a record, right Joni? He showed four whole emotions when I told him you were dead - joy, concern for me, curiosity about how you died, and ambivalence at the thought of you dying a hero. Go figure.

"All she told me is that they’re coming. A bunch of them, all from the You-Dub-Dub. A few of those short bearded urqos, a few of the tall crazy ones who talk to the elements, and a buncha weird ones I’ve never heard of before. Something about a slave revolt."

"There are so many that occur in the Three Galaxies," Juan replies. "I've been involved in my fair share*. My companions mentioned being involved with one in the lower levels of Center. You might want to ask them during the banquet."

"That’s where the worm’s from. You’re the traveler, aren’t you s’pposed to know these things? What the hell are you doing out there, anyway?"

"Nothing," Juan says immediately. "I have no idea what to feed a worm or what is good for one's health. Not at all. Surely there is a happier topic we can discuss."

"Nobody else from the clan can make it- I think they’re still a little sauced with Peg, y’know about the thing."

Juan laughs with his brother. "Who hasn't had a thing with your sister? I'd say she has the bitterest sauce in our yul, but I that would mean having a meal with the La."

Juan eventually takes Jeb's hints and excuses himself from the kitchen to spend the rest of the evening with his teammates. He has a restful, if debauched, night, and wakes up to have breakfast with his sister in the solarium. They eat pan fried fish, caught from the nearby volcanic pool, and roti along with a salad of pickled fruits. As they drink their second cups of tea, Juan asks for more details on the banquet. Specifically, are there emissaries from any other pantheons attending and what slave rebellion is the worm associated with.

"Why do you ask about the worm, Jonny? This isn't some weird thing?" No, of course not. Did you do something inappropriate with a worm on your most recent trip?" I wouldn't know the first thing about taking care of a worm. Ok, then. Well what do you know about your friend, Draggor?"

"Definitely not urqos." No he is not. "What are you getting at Joni?" The Hostess's eyes widen in response to her brother's question. Why didn't you tell me. "What didn't I tell you about?" Joan's eyes light up. Jonny, you don't know? Well...

After lunch, Juan wanders around the towers to find one of the resident smythers. He will request that the armorer provide custom paint jobs on his two EBA's**. After this he will find the house urqos that is responsible for taking care of his wardrobe. They will then go and browse for outfits to wear that evening. If Juan should bump into Draggor, or any of the other Adventurers, along the way, he will invite them to join the Wanderer and his worshiper in outfit hunting.

*Per Rate-A-Deity

Juan Echo
Yayamama Pantheon
1 out of 10
I devoted my life to producing great works in the Wanderer's name. I promised those who were blessed to travel to my space station fair room and board in exchange for labor in the glory of our God, Juan Echo. But when he arrived he went and announced that everyone was entitled to full health coverage, paid vacation, and maternity and paternity leave for any married couple expecting a demigod. How could I make a profit treating my laborers humanely?

**This is a pretext for finally getting around to cleaning up my equipment sheet. I'll be in touch if I ever get around to doing that.

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [95] = 95 /52%
Just in Case: 1d20: [3] = 3 ; 1d100: [66] = 66
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive)

H.P.: 27/22
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 239/239
Current Outfit: NE-BA-26 Special Body Armor, Clothes (Beaten Up Cargo Pants, Worn Thermal Undershirt, Wool Vest), Scarf, Goggles (Around Neck), Combat boots, Weapon Harness, Utility Belt, Battered Long Coat.

Ghast wakes up early, blinks several times staring at the ceiling. Another day. How do you plan to mess this one up? You could try and kill one of the local gods. You two are helpful as ever. Ghast thinks with a groan as he gets up from the bed. Ghast looks down and grabs his worn boots. Do they have a dress code for the dinner? Ghast thinks as he ties the laces. Ghast shrugs, and grabs his harness to put on. I wonder what the policy on weapons is? Ghast says as he buckles the leg straps for his holsters down. Ghast begins wrapping his customary red scarf around his neck while looking in the mirror. His eyes a watery blue surrounded by dark circles of a man who likely sleeps little and stresses about much. Ghast runs his fingers through his hair before throwing his trusty overcoat on to complete his ensemble.

Ghast steps out of the room and makes his way to the more common areas. Ghast looks for anyone who seems in the know about what goes on in the towers. "Pardon, I have a few questions if you can spare a second. Is there a dress code for the dinner, and if so what is it? attached question if there is a dress code; Where can I get appropriate clothes? What are the rules on weapons at the dinner? Lastly, where can I get breakfast?" Ghast asks, patiently waiting for answers if they're forthcoming. "Thank you."

Ghast will leave whomever he spoke to and find where food may be, so that he may feed his near bottomless appetite. "Draggor, do we have a plan of any sort, or is it more a wing situation again?" Ghast asks over the radio.

If there is a proposed dress code, and a place to get new duds, Ghast will make his way there to peruse what there is to get.

[Draggor]

Rolls carried, with this added:

Prowl (5%) 1d100: [16] = 16 | 75% (provided if anyone wants to leave the 'sneaking' up to chance, feel free to disregard and choose the outcome!)

Post

He will again check in on Alison and will radio the team who partook of the guest accommodations. "Aside from banquet in the evening, other commitments we have, hmm? Wish to observe the arrival of the guests from the DSM. Yess."

Are we stating our plans? Mostly. After some hesitation, the beast responds, "Observe, and want to meet before event. Need to... represent us better in meantime." The last part perhaps is cryptic, but all will be revealed soon enough.

Ghast will leave whomever he spoke to and find where food may be, so that he may feed his near bottomless appetite. "Draggor, do we have a plan of any sort, or is it more a wing situation again?" Ghast asks over the radio.

Since Draggor and Ghast both stayed on planet, response need not be over radio, and they casually go 'hunting' for their teammate. No, not climbing on walls or anything, but the ability to move swiftly in silence has been of value before, and a little casual practice now and again is fun. It culminates in Draggor eventually appearing behind Ghast to provide an answer to his question, "Take advantage of opportunity," which might just be what announces their presence. At first, the creature tugs on their own yesterday's clothes' collar, then reaches down and does similar to the human. "We will upgrade."

You actually mean to include him? Similar aura. Similar arrival to the Adventurers. Coincidence or not, they both ended up on a collision path with this crew, and more immediately, physically into Juan while making their way through the halls after breakfast. "Juan! Help us!" The creature's excitement is fresh, "We must not look like adventurers. Must look like representatives!" It's a toothy grin that accompanies, hopefully dispelling any alarm the first half may have caused.

[Joan Echo]

<Rolls carry>

Bumping into Draggor and Ghast after breakfast is the most fortuitous of coincidences. Juan is looking to vigorously enjoy his time on his home planet. Over the centuries he has fallen into a routine of spending years, decades sometimes, off planet wandering the Three Galaxies and then returning to Yaya for short stays to assure his people that he is their divine protector. But even by those standards, this feels like a fleeting visit. Once they have gotten Thraxus safely off of Yaya, Juan will resume his adventures on the Dime Store Magic. So bumping into his teammates is a chance to really make the most of the luxuries of being a god in a theocratic society.

"Juan! Help us! We must not look like adventurers. Must look like representatives!"

"Let's see what I have in my wardrobe," the Wanderer replies. "I'm sure that I have something that will you will be able to wear."

"Is there a dress code for the dinner, and if so what is it? attached question if there is a dress code; Where can I get appropriate clothes? What are the rules on weapons at the dinner?"

Juan sizes up the human. "I don't think any of my old clothes will fit you. But I'm sure that you will find something from what my consorts have left here over the centuries. The dress code is what you would described as open collared - formal but eclectic. And we are a civilized society here on Yaya, so of course you can be armed at the dinner table. You just don't want to be too gaudy about it."

Juan leads Ghast and Draggor (along with anyone else that decides to find something formal for the banquet) to his apartments. The godling's wardrobe isn't simply it's a closet, it is like a suite of apartments within a suite of apartments. There is a walk-in closet for shoes, with one wall just for sandals. Formal wear takes up a whole room. Another room is dedicated to bathrobes and banana hammocks. In fact, it looks like this part of Juan's apartment has been carefully cataloged by a house urqos several years ago.

How long has it been since I've been back home? I want to say it has been almost three decades, Jonny. In fact, it makes me wonder how that wardrobe will look at the banquet. Pshaw, Joni, I was always fashion forward. I'm sure the urqos are just now catching up with what I wore back then. Sure, yeah. At the very least what I have will pass up for hip retro.

Juan points Draggor out some of the different eras of clothing scattered throughout the different parts of his wardrobe, giving his new companion free reign to take and combine what he wants. He then leads Ghast to the walk-ins that contain the clothes of his former paramours. Ghast, likewise has his choice of a variety clothes from different eras, varying in size, body shape, and (of course) the number of legs. For himself, Juan finds a nice white and black pleather ensemble.

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [67] = 67 /39%
JiC: 1d20: [11] = 11 | 1d100: [88] = 88

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min |

MDC: 147/147 PPE: 282/282 ISP: 35/35

| Meditation (0)

Skills:
Lore, Psychics and Psionics: 1d100: [51] = 51 /31% (Try to understand more about psionics as Matthew teaches meditation)

Post:

"Ouch!" Exe grumbles as he stumbles over the abnormally large furniture. "You'd think it'd be easy to move around large furniture." Exe complains to himself as he explores, unsure what all the different writings are. He'll look to his ariel, "Can you read any of this?" Exe'll ask as he scrolls around and finds writing he recognizes. "Oh!" And once he realizes what it is the teenager looks around the room. "Guest list?" He shrugs and moves on, whether Matthew confirms or denies. Eventually, Exe's stomach and the scent of good food overpower his curiosity and he finds his way to the food. After dinner, Exe returns to his room.

Exe will try to mimic his ariel who meditates through the night, resituating some pads or pillows to sit comfortably and focusing his mind. I hate meditating. The words scream in his mind and he just sighs. Exe hears Matthew shift positions and the ariel is now facing Exe, sitting lotus. Exe mentally winces. Great.

"Clear your mind. Mentally wipe your conscious clear. Focus on your breaths, keep your eyes closed. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Deep breaths, filling from the stomach up. Release. Now, breathe in and hold for thirty seconds. Release slowly and hold for thirty seconds. Repeat. If anything comes into your mind, release it with your breathe. Breath at your own pace. Fortify your mind." Matthew explains, the patient voice of a teacher as he explains. Exe nods gently along before stopping and trying to focus on nothing.

May as well listen... Deep breath. Breathe. Focus. On nothing. Exe begins to mentally talk himself through meditating. Have a thought. Let it go. Follow your breath. Up the spine from the stomach, around the crown of the head, and out. Breathe. Exe mentally works, thinking back to a time when he had a reason to study and train. No. Let it go. Breathe. Exe tries snapping himself back and eventually finds himself in a true meditative state.

=====Dawn of the Second Day======

Exe might've found a meditative state to start the night but the teenager woke up by getting up out of his bed and shaking his head. "Guess I fell asleep somewhere through that..." Exe mutters and glances to his ariel who is still meditating.

"About thirty minutes into it." Matthew retorts without opening his eyes and Exe winces, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Not bad for my first try, right?" Exe answers sheepishly and organizes his cloths, runs his hands through his hair to try to defeat any unkemptness and sighs, looking back to Matthew. "This is all way too high profile for me. I sorta miss being a, what was it that one guy called me?" Exe reminisces to a time before his ariel. "A.. drala'fa? I don't know what it means but he said it meant unseen." Exe shrugs.

"The ignored. Often used to describe those without a home or a place in society." Matthew corrects Exe, prompting the teen to look at him before rolling his eyes.

"Right. Anyways, big day ahead of us." Exe exclaims with a fake smile and approaches his door, sighing and dropping his shoulders before puffing back up. "You know, I can free fall and fly with lightning eagles, skirt security and even fight monsters. Going to a banquet with gods and whatever else... just being around them for a prolonged period of time..." Exe sighs again.

"One is fueled by adrenaline and the prospect of the unknown. The other relies on responsibility and accountability and is sabotaged by self-doubt and time. It is an apprehension shared by many. Conquer it. This is an opportunity; take it." Matthew states, finally standing to follow Exe, prompting the young demi-god to buck up and nod. Fine. Exe thinks and opens the door.

Prior to the banquet

Exe will spend the morning exploring the towers and the surrounding forests. Remembering his promise to his faithful companion, Exe'll reach out to his Eagle. Good morning bud, how about that flight? He asks and feels the wave of excitement wash over his eagle as he then queues the team's radio. "Hey, uh, Metri. Corus is going to be making his way off the ship, if you could let him out please?" Exe'll ask over the radio.

Assuming no issues, Corus will then take flight and b-line straight for Exe who rockets up into the sky and catches his eagle as Corus slows down just enough for Exe to take hold before darting back up. To two spend a couple hours that morning simply flying above the area, hopefully undisturbed. Matthew remains on the ground, falling into a lotus posture as he meditates. If, Exe's room had a balcony, when the time comes closer to lunch he'll land Corus on the balcony and build his eagle a small nest of pillows before leaving through the doorway again. Otherwise, Exe sends Corus back to the ship and links back up with Matthew.

After a morning of being left alone, Exe will start to be curious about where everyone else is and looks for Juan, being the resident here. Hopefully he finds him, Ghast and Draggor. When the prospect of what to wear comes up, Exe shrugs. "I was just going to go like this?" Exe says innocently, still wearing his customized combat robes with random tatters and uncombed (but patted) hair.

[Chef Icky]

Perception: 1d100<61: [61] = 0
JIC: 1d20: [17] = 17 / 1d100: [22] = 22

"Child... I need you to make me a promise. Although Master Metri came out of the Mystic Engine, you must promise me that you will never, never try to go in. The mystic engine is not safe to touch. If you were to get hurt... it would make us all very, very sad. Do you promise?"

As Alison nods Icky pats her shoulder. "See? It ain't just me lookin' out fer ya. Uncle Slim's right -- dat's why I had Uncle Datephus limit yer access when ya came on board." He nods in Kaedras' direction with a grin. "We kinda had dis talk earlier, but it's always good ta hear it backed up by others. 'Preciate it, chum."

”PERHAPS DEPENDENT DESIGNATE: ALLISON WOULD BE MORE COMFORTABLLE IN THE LOUNGE. I CAN ACCESS ENTERTAINMENT MODULES TO KEEP HER OCCUPIED DURING YOUR ABSENCE. AND REINFORCE THE CONTAINMENT FIELDS AROUND THE MYSTIC GENERATOR.”

Icky's brow furrows slightly as he nods. "Oi, dat's probably not a bad idea..." It'd be our luck we'd blunder right into a pack of demons or that Imperial goon squad that seems obsessed with us. He kneels down beside Alison. "Oi, Lil' Britches, ya reckon ya can be a big girl an' help watch da ship wit' Uncle Datephus fer a while? Once we get met up wit' some folks an' we got some free time I'll take ya sight-seein'. I'll leave ya out some snacks ta tide ya over. Okay?"

Since no trouble is expected, he’ll only arm himself with his pistol on his hip and Darkwing strapped across his back. It's never the trouble you expect to find that's the problem, he justifies to himself, it's the trouble you don't expect to find... The Chef's Belt, of course, is part of the ensemble regardless.

---------------------------------------------------

"My dear Urqos, this is my sister, Juan Echo, the Goddess of Hospitality. Joni, this is my team, the Galactic Adventurers. The Urqos Andra is our team leader and a very honorable warrior. Alongside him are our most seasoned veterans, sage Urqos Metri and Priest Icky, the servant of Dionysious." Joan gives a polite nod to Icky acknowledging his devotion to another deity. "We also have Urqos Ghast, Draggor, and Exe. Those last two are not Urqos, interesting... "And finally, the Waterboy." Joan's eybrow arches at the last introduction.

Icky gives Joan a nod and a grin in reply. "Oi, I may bend a knee ta Big D but yer brother's earned me respect an' den some. It's a pleasure."

---------------------------------------------------

During this monologue, Peg has sidled up to Icky and speaks in a husky voice. ”A priest, huh? Dionysus, that’s pretty neat. You’ll have to show me some of your religious ceremonies later. And I’ll show you some of mine- I’m the goddess of eating, you know. Seems like a natural fit with the god of wine. Wonder if there’s anything else that fits naturally.” she adds with a lascivious wink. Then, the rather large woman (a good half a foot taller than Icky) sniffs deeply, and leans heavily on his arm (all 900 pounds of her) before whispering ”Sooo… Is that animal magnetism you’ve got all-natural, or have you been a naughty boy?” Another wink.

Peg will continue to hang on Icky (figuratively speaking if she shakes her off) unless the minotaur goes with Starchief to see Thraxus. Joan will take any of you who wish to see your employer, and leave either Juan or one of the house Urqos to show the rest of the team around (if Icky stays, Peg will immediately volunteer to “Show you a few things.”).

"But what is Peg doing here? We've avoided each other ever since that thing."

”Oh, Johnny.” she says as he takes him aside and half-whispers. ”Why you insist on bringing that up at every possible opportunity I will never understand. If we want to put our best feet forward, then we need The Chef. He’s in the kitchens as we speak- you should see him! He still thinks you’re dead- oh this is going to be hilarious. I’m so glad we could call him back from off-world for this.”

“Anyway, the two of them are a package deal; you know that. Can you imagine? Always having to stay in the vicinity of your sibling.” She shudders in mock horror (it is mock, right?). Her eyes twinkling, she turns back to regard Icky- Kaedras has acquired a bit of a headache, and Icky is using it as an excuse to extricate himself from Peg. Gotta take the kid fer a lie-down, right? The Eater watches him go, and Joan adds ”That big, beefy priest looks like he can take care of himself. I guess we’ll find out.” she adds with a smirk.
By the time you finish your various tours and/or conversations (feel free to continue dialogue with Thraxus), it is getting close to dinner. Some modest food is set out by the urqos, but clearly they’re saving the big guns for the banquest so it’s all relatively plain fare. But hearty and delicious nonetheless. You’ll be shown to sleeping quarters if you want to stay in the residence, or you can return to your bunk on the ship (where, presumably, Datephus is still babysitting Allison).

For a moment, Icky is actually rather taken by surprise as Peg tries to slide into his DMs (Debauched Methods, of course) as it's usually the more... human-looking... members of the DSM's crew that get attention from the ladies. But only for a moment. "Yup, dat's me -- Iktinos, a.k.a. Chef Icky -- former Three-Dub Marine cook, now a priest o' Dionysus. I'm what'cha might call a 'holy freelance combat chef.'" He gives her a grin. "What can I say, Sweets? It ain't easy bein' da crew's resident eye candy -- but someone's gotta do it y'know?" He shrugs. "Funny thing is, I had a death vision where Big D an' a chum o' his offered me a job caterin' his parties in da afterlife... but I got brought back 'fore we could shake on it. So I went to his temple an' asked him 'bout it, an' he said it was news ta him but he let me sign up anyways."

On the subject of 'religious ceremonies' he'll simply grin (actually it's more of a smirk) and say "Oi, Big D isn't much o' a stickler fer rituals. I take dat ta mean as long as wine's involved I'm free ta... improvise a bit."

When Kaedras starts to not feel well, Icky makes his excuses and gives the elf a pat on the shoulder. "Oi, not dat dis ain't been stimulatin' but I better help Slim 'ere get back to da ship. An' I need ta check in on me lil' gal, too. She's been through a lot an' I don't want her feelin' too neglected, y'know? We'll haveta pick back up on comparin' notes later." He leaves Peg with a wink and a smile as the two of them walk back to the DSM.

I dunno if I should call you a gooseberry for interruptin' or thank you for giving me an 'out' back there, he adds telepathically. Gettin' hit on ain't somethin' I'm used to, but I reckon I could learn to like it.

Once back in the ship he leaves Kaedras to his own devices and checks in on Alison, getting her fed, bathed, and put to bed. Before he turns in (he sleeps in his own cabin on board the ship) he makes himself a cup of hot tea and makes himself comfortable in front of a computer. "Oi Datephus, gimme da Yayamama file again please, willya? An' lemme know if anybody approaches da ship tonight -- especially if dey're large an' female." He takes a sip. "Oh, an' thanks fer lookin' after Alison today. I appreciate it."

---------------------------------------------------

Perception: 1d100<61: [92] = 0
JIC: 1d20: [15] = 15 / 1d100: [16] = 16

The next morning he's up early, going through his morning exercise routine and getting breakfast ready for anyone who spent the night on board the ship. Once he finishes washing up the dishes he keys his comlink. "Oi, rise an' shine ya mugs. So what's da story, mornin' glories? Anybody wanna come back an' fill us in? Or ya want us ta come meet ya somewhere?"

If it's suggested he come meet up with the others, he'll bring Alison along in Metri's old harness (you can't beat the view from up there, you know). "Alright, so I take it fun was had by all an' nobody got jumped by monsters dat go 'bump' in da night?"

[Captain Andra Sekona]

Perception: 1d100: [68] = 68 /62%
JIC: 1d20: [18] = 18 / 1d100: [53] = 53

Then, back to Starchief. ”So some sort of server affiliated with this… website” He says it as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. ”May have drawn the demons to it after the attack on the Manors failed. And yes, I’d like to know why I’m the target too. Your recent activities haven’t exactly been low-profile, and I had plenty of other operations during the Minion War. Some of them could have been compromised by our mutual enemies. So I’d say the list of suspects starts with them and goes down from there.” He says bitterly. ”Well, I always knew this wasn’t going to be easy. At least I still have both arms.”

"Lots of people died and we're currently caring for an orphaned child because of whatever this was. So yes, I think we'd all like some clarity."

”For now, we do have an opportunity to do a little digging on the state of internal politics in the UWW. If Joan is to be believed, representatives from several factions will be arriving tomorrow. Including some very major players in the Worlds. See if any of them know anything about this Rate-A-Deity. After all the UWW includes more deities than anyone, it’s impossible that no-one there knows anything. Maybe find out what the Hades their servers were doing in Center- there are much safter places, much closer to home to go for cheap real estate. And for the love of the Gods, keep my name out of it and my presence here under wraps. If we can’t stop this… whatever this is, at the source before the next outbreak I…” He closes his eyes and swallows, hard, before taking a deep breath and continuing. ”I will need to come with you. Hopefully, just until we find and neutralize the threat.”

"Keep you hidden from the proceedings and poke around for answers with Gods, sounds easy enough." Starchief's expression slides into a smirk as he asks "So, Joan is the Goddess of Hospitality. How's that been for you? She seems...accommodating."

Juan taps the side of his head. "I think I know how we can keep you out of this Thraxus." He looks at the others gathered. "Many of you can serve as emissaries for your own homeworlds. Urqos Andra, you represent the the Big Seeronian Urqos Resistance..."

"That is a damn good idea, Juan. Seeron needs all the allies it can get. What better timing?"

During dinner, Starchief eats like a man possessed, plate after bowl after plate of whatever is made available. Five heaping plates later, he lets out a raucous belch. "Good soup."

When the meal is over, Juan says, "My good and dear urqos, it is time for me to retire." He looks at his teammates and then adds, "My own apartments have two guest bedrooms, a hot tub, and ah... a swing, if anyone wants to stay here. Joan also has her own guest quarters and I'm sure she would be happy to host you as well."

"A chance to see the Traveling God's digs? Wouldn't miss it for the world." Starchief makes his way to a guest bedroom, but not before snatching a date out of the air and popping it in his mouth.

---

---

In the morning, Starchief gets himself dressed up in his battle uniform: a red asymmetrical button top with a blue circle on his chest to represent the struggle of the Seeronian peoples. Matching red combat boots, laced up over a pair of crisp dark blue pants. And strapped to his side is the "ceremonial blade of the People of Seeron", Champion. You look great, but this backstory could use some work. Yeah? Not happy being the blade of the people? It's a little... on the nose. Champion, I don't think we're going for subtlety here. I suppose you're right. Ceremonial blade it is then. You know back in my day, we knew how to create a disguise. One time I was up against this real piece of work, Ambu... That's nice. I've gotta focus. Looking good takes effort.

Meeting up with Juan during his outfit hunt, Starchief asks for two things from the massive clothing complex. "Do you think we can find a blue overcoat? The fancier the better. And glitter. I'm going to need lots of glitter." Starchief has a grand time pawing through the rooms of clothing and what not.

"Oi, rise an' shine ya mugs. So what's da story, mornin' glories? Anybody wanna come back an' fill us in? Or ya want us ta come meet ya somewhere?"

"Get out your fancies, Chef. We're dressing up for the gala! You might want to come check out this huge room. Juan's walk-in closet has a walk-in closet."

[Dark Lord]

The day before the banquet wanes towards its end and the team occupies itself with food, rest, conversation, domesticity, and a little exploration. Starchief lays out the team’s recent activities for your employer as well as a smirking quip about Juan’s sister. If Thraxus notices the subtext of the question, he gives no sign as we growls a reply, ”Accommodating? I suppose, unless you count my need for privacy.” With a sigh, he adds ”I suppose that might be too much to ask. Just keep her busy, happy, and away from me.” Later, after you disperse Juan spends some time in the kitchens.

"There are so many that occur in the Three Galaxies," Juan replies. "I've been involved in my fair share*. My companions mentioned being involved with one in the lower levels of Center. You might want to ask them during the banquet."

Jeb waves his hand airily and makes a noise. ”Feh, what’s the difference? They’ll all be dead in a century, maybe two max. Crazy urqos are so busy talking about who owns whom that nobody has the time to appreciate an ultra-slow-cooked stew.”

Juan wanders off after that, but not before asking about the visitors again. If Jeb is annoyed, he gives no outward sign and shrugs ”Don’t really pay attention to that sorta thing, but I think your sister had a list she wrote down at some point to help the urqos remember their names. Something about making a grand entrance and all that, you know how she is.” If Juan wanders into the banquet hall (or talks to Exe) he will learn about the list there, written in Trade 1. Otherwise, the godling finds the local craftsurqos and arranges for a quick, overnight paint job for his suits of armor. As the urqos are only too eager to conclude their business with the Wanderer before he wanders off, Juan is assured that the finished products will be delivered to his vessel the next morning. The rest of you find some way to keep yourselves busy. Exe shows the list to Matthew, but the large angel merely shakes his head when asked if he can read it. After the young shifter finishes his exploration of the area, the whole group meets for a brief evening meal. Metri notes his approval of the local urqos’ living situation, and the team talks through various diplomatic angles and how this banquet could be used not just to help Joan, but yourselves and your allies.

After dinner Icky, having engaged in a little light flirtation of his own (and eliciting a wide smile at the mention of ‘improvisation’), uses Kaedras as an excuse to go back to the ship and check up on his ward with Metri in tow. An urqos is immediately summoned to help guide them back (Joan is about to insist on a whole retinue but Icky manages to get out of all that pomp). After getting Kaedras put to bed, Icky checks on Alison- she is curled up next to a portable computer, sound asleep by the time Icky gets there. As Icky leans over to pick her up and take her to bed, something about the computer catches his eye. Is that… the Rate-A-Deity logo? A closer look at the page will confirm it does appear to be content from that blasted site, but any more information you hope to glean from the machine itself will require a computer operation roll. Regardless, nobody appears to be turning into any funky demonkin tonight, so both Icky and Metri retire. Icky brushes up on his reading about the Yayamama pantheon, and both of you ask Datephus to keep an eye out for your visitors. ”AFFIRMATIVE. LONG-RANGE SENSORS ENGAGED.” Metri will also wake periodically to scout the area in astral form, but sees (and senses) nothing out of the ordinary.

Those of you staying back at the Yayamama complex with Juan and Joan have an equally uneventful night, save perhaps for Draggor who enjoys a little conversation with your hostess. Specifically, that she might have met someone like them. She smiles at him sadly, ”Oh, I am sorry to tease you so- I know little about you or my prior visitor, but I will of course tell you what I can. He crashed in a ship- I didn’t recognize any of it, but that was because it burned up in re-entry. Frankly, I was shocked anyone could survive such a crash- the urqos could only get near if we granted them powerful magical protection, but by the time we got there the alien- Drakos was his name- looked perfectly healthy and also perfectly naked.” She snickers. ”Not that any of us minded, of course, but we did give him some clothing. He was insistent on getting off world- said that if he didn’t that whatever was hunting him would come here and that we would suffer as a result. I tried to tell him that the Goddess of Hospitality does not turn away a guest- particularly one who might bring more guests! But he refused to stay, so I sent him to my cousin three valleys over. He knows something of portal magic. I just hope Drakos got to where he was going. I hope you can find him- it is quite curious, the two of you, aliens lost in a galaxy full of other aliens, yet both finding your way here.”

Then, clapping her hands as if to try and punctuate the somber mood with something lighter, she adds ”I wish I could tell you more. But as far as tomorrow- the most important thing is that you simply arrive, be your splendid self, and have fun! Don’t trouble yourself over the diplomatic side of things- I have been part of these negotiations for months and I really think it’s going to happen! Priority trading status, a pyramid for transportation and logistical support, mutual defensive pacts, and even a relay to hook us up to the tri-galactic ‘net! I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it, I suppose I’ll just have to get a computer. Oh! Maybe they can help me with that, too!” Draggor can ask some follow-up questions, but that is largely the extent of the knowledge Joan is willing/able to share, so eventually they both retire (separately) for the evening.

The next morning Icky makes a point of bringing Alison with, using the harness originally designed for Metri. The girl claps her hands in delight, alternating between giggles and wonder as she takes in the world from her new, much higher, perch. Exe, after a restless evening trying (and mostly failing) to meditate alongside Matthew, opts to make good on his promise to Corus and take his familiar out to stretch his wings. The lightning bird has a grand old time, and after a few hours of playing Exe heads back to the complex not exactly ready for a formal. Fortunately for him, neither are a few of the rest of you. Those of you staying at the complex are greeted early by breakfast at your doors, and once you’re done you meet up and resume exploring (Draggor also delights in practicing some of their stealth). Juan gathers everyone and sees about his closet. Over the next several hours, everyone is able to pick an outfit that Juan assures you is appropriate for the occasion (anyone wishing a second opinion can get confirmation from Joan, much to your surprise). The godling himself is too large in stature for any of his clothes to fit most of you, but Juan’s ex-consorts and their leavings come in all shapes and sizes. It may not be quick, it will definitely be ugly, and it’s anyone’s guess whether that’s a deliberate pattern for a dried-up stain but eventually everyone finds something that works.

By this point it is mid-afternoon, and the urqos suddenly become ubiquitous around the complex. A quick consult with Datephus will confirm that a techno-wizard spacecraft has landed nearby- a respectful distance from the Dime Store Magic, but it’s still two spaceships sharing a landing area that was probably only meant for one. The delegates largely stay aboard, but anyone who wishes to can observe and admire their ship. Less than an hour before the banquet is due to start, you are shown to a waiting area by various urqos servitors. Seeming filling that room is an extremely nervous-looking urqos who appears to be clutching the list Exe found earlier, reading it frantically from time to time, and then closing his eyes and muttering to himself. Committing the list to memory, perhaps? Joan, seeming oblivious, leans forward and says ”If any of you has a preferred introduction, merely let my seneschal know.” Regardless, after a few minutes of this you are shown to the banquet hall- Joan and Johnny have places with about half the delegates (the dwarves and humans, specifically) at the main table, alongside Jeb and Peg and a few other locals you don’t recognize. The rest of you are relegated to a table with the other half of the visitors, including some particularly exotic species (galactic lore roll if you want to know which ones). Those of you who can speak Trade 4 will be able to catch the introductions- fortunately the seneschal has no trace of his earlier nervousness.

”PRESENTINGGG TO ONE AND ALL. THE MOST ESTEEMED DELEGATES FROM OUR NEIGHBORS, THE UNITED WORLDS OF WARLOCK. REPRESENTING THE DWARVEN GUILDMASTERS: GUILDSMASTER TORVIN BEKLAR, UNDERQUARRIER GORK THORA, AND FIRST SECRETARY GILDA BEKK. REPRESENTING THE WARLOCKS, BROTHER INTAR AND SISTER ELBA. REPRESENTING THE FREE PEOPLES OF LIBERTY PRIME: DROK’TAR NALATHODZ, BAHKI LEE AND ATTENDANT, AND THIRD COUNCILOR SSHIRA. FINALLY, ON BEHALF OF THE TRUE ATLANTEANS OF ALEXANDRA, SIR JACKSON THORSGIL.” After that, the seneschal will add any introductions you saw fit to give him- but at a minimum, he will add ”WE ARE ALSO HONORED TO RECEIVE THIS EVENING THE WANDERER, HOME FROM ONE OF HIS MANY LENGTHY JOURNIES, AND TRAVELING COMPANIONS.”

What are you doing?

[Joan Echo]

Perception (33%) 1d100<33: [73] = 0
JiC 1d20: [15] = 15 / 1d100: [93] = 93

Armor
Black and white pleather suit
Black and white oxford shoes
HPC bracelet

Weapons
Magical clubs with the Rings of Sha Los (2)

Skill rolls
Literacy: Trade 1 (98%) 1d100<98: [62*] = 1 - Read guest list for banquet
Lore: Galactic/Aliens (40%) 1d100<40: [85] = 0 - Identify any notable delegations, particularly pantheons

Just prior to leaving the kitchen, Juan grabs a list of all the invited guests. He reviews it in the afternoon while helping some of the other Adventurers find outfits for the banquet. He scans the list for alien delegations he might recognize, most notably any pantheons or other deities. I don't see any pantheons on the list. Don't you just love hobnobbing with other gods, brother. Always, it is why we have formal banquets, to commune with our colleagues and show our might. That's what Papa Sol taught us. And it's so boring. This will be fun, brother, I promise. Juan sighs and goes back to helping his friends pick outfits. Seeing them try on the various outfits of former consorts amuses the Traveling God, reminding him of all the companions he has made over the course of his adventures.

"Do you think we can find a blue overcoat? The fancier the better. And glitter. I'm going to need lots of glitter."

"What color glitter do you want?" Juan asks going into a small alcove in one of the walk-in closets. He pulls out two bags of body glitter, pink and purple. "Urqos Trixie (it was Urqos Roxie) left behind loads of it. We have every color of the rainbow, along with different grades from confetti to star dust."

Juan takes a tiny pinch of very fine purple glitter and tosses it in the direction of Draggor. He then signals for Starchief to follow him. He points out several more bags of body glitter for Andra to help himself to if so inclined. He then takes ushers the chief to another room full of military outfits. There are a couple sets of CAF formal suits of various sizes, shapes, and ranks; they are mixed with uniforms from other militaries, some of them long since fallen. Juan reaches into a rack that contains mostly tattered flight suits and pulls out an old double breasted navy coat. "This should fit you," Juan says holding the coat up against Starchief. The Wanderer has a wistful look on his face, remembering its original owner. "This coat belonged to my good and dear Urqos Squeekeg. We used to sleep in a coffin together, long story. But the things he used to call me..."

Juan steps out of his wardrobe and into the hall of the tower to see who else is around. He catches Exe and Matthew walking by. He flags them over to flaunt his outfit out. "I haven't worn this in almost 40 years," he says proudly. "I can't believe it still fits. I'm not surprised it still looks great on me."

"I was just going to go like this?"

Juan shakes his head. "No, no. That will not do. You are going to a formal banquet with official delegates from the Dubs." He looks at Matthew and arches an eyebrow. "Come, let's find something for both of you."

Juan leads them to where other Adventurers are trying on their new outfits. Juan goes into a small room and pulls out a matching set of a crushed red velvet shorts, jacket, and jaunty cap. The outfit is tied together with a lace shirt. "I must have worn this when I was about your age. It will look good on you!" Then turning to Matthew , "I'm sure I will have something that fits your physique. Let's go take some measurements."

After everyone is dressed, they go to the feast. Juan takes his teammates to a small hallway to the side of the banquet hall where they wait to be formally announced. The Wanderer listens as the other delegations are introduced. And when he is summoned he steps forward both arms raised in the air giving V's for victory. Once he's on the dais he gives three tasteful thrusts to the urqos in attendance and then gestures for the other Adventurers to follow suit. After which, he takes his seat at the head table next to his sister.

He glances at her with a smile that says it all, These are the parts of being home that I missed the least. Shush, Jonny, this is the best part. Watching me squirm? No, being at the center of it all with my brother. The Echo twins lean into each other and laugh.

[Metri]

-----------------------------------
Perception: d%: [85] = 85 | 39%
JIC: 1d20: [4] = 4 | d%: [20] = 20 %
-----------------------------------

Character Sheet

• Radiate their Nature. Psychics: 100ft. Non-psychics: 12 ft.
• Sense Supernatural Evil and Magical Energy (3rd eye). 800ft (no-magic). 1800ft (if magic used).
  • Base (detect & ID creature): d%: [92] = 92 | 84%.
  • Track by psychic scent: d%: [37] = 37 | 90%.
• Sense Supernatural Evil (mystic). 450ft. d%: [46] = 46 | 94%.
• Sense Life. 300ft.

PPE: 159/159
ISP: 260/260
Psionic Crystal Armor MDC: 35/35 (Psi-FF(4/4): 70/70)
MDC: 72/72
MTB1_PPE: 180/180
MTB2_PPE: 180/180
MTB3_PPE: 180/180
Saving Throw Bonuses
+1 to all Saving Throws (via rune weapon Skorl)
Coma/Death: +4%
Magic (varies): +1
Lethal Poison (14+): +1
Non-Lethal Poison (16+): +1
Insanity (12+): +1
Psionics (10+): +1 (+2 Crystal Armor FF)
+7 vs Possession
+2 vs Despair
+2 vs Horror Factor
+2 vs Illusions
+1 vs Poison and Disease

Conditions

After breaking his fast, Metri slips back into some contemplative meditation in the lounge. Despite having been trained professionally for diplomacy, the Yhabbayar nonetheless feels trepidation about a gathering fraught with so many power brokers and his place (or lack thereof) in it. Having found his runic hammer to be forthright in opinion with him in the past, he seeks mental council with the former Norse warrior.

Skorl, I could use some advice...

The affable mountain of a man's voice eagerly interrupts. Love like you've never lost. Fight like you mean it. And no good can come from scratching an itchy nether region.

That's not... wait, what? Do I need to worry about the corrosion crust just above the grip? Never-mind, that's off-topic.

It's strange, but my trained profession prior to becoming lost in these Three Galaxies was to be an ambassador or diplomat on behalf of my people. Making first contact and establishing long-lasting relationships so that we can better know the greater Mega-verse far beyond our home. And yet I have done very little of that during my travels thus far.

Now confronted with the possibility of making a diplomatic first impression with powerful individuals from prominent factions, I find myself shying from the duty. I know not how to return to my people nor what political agenda to push in order to improve the livelihoods of my people... A pause of uncertainty fills the air a moment as Metri isn't sure what else to say.

Never had much use with the talkie-talk folk back in the day. Powerful people usually have their own agenda. And more times than not, they were writing checks that the rest of us warriors then had to cash when the shit hit the grindstone. Better to let them do what they do and kill the problem when it pops up. Skorl remarks matter-of-factly.

Sage advice. I will, as Master Arha once told me... trust my instincts. Metri responds. His moral compass shocked back into alignment by the black-and-white perspective of his runic hammer.

Around mid-afternoon, Metri takes a stroll outside the DSM to admire the diplomatic ship. He hopes his obvious presence will draw the attention of someone from within the ship to investigate. If so, he will introduce himself and ask generously about the ship, driven by seemingly insatiable curiosity. If not, the Yhabbayar will not push the matter, or intrude upon their property. He will return to the DSM until it is time to head to the banquet.

Wholly under-dressed for the affair, almost passing as an urqos servitor, Metri nonetheless finds the rest of the crew and joins them. Shown his seat at the secondary table, will rise and make a polite and formal introduction, "Metri," placing a palm on his chest, to any unfamiliar face that joins them.

Lore: Galactic/Aliens. d%: [33] = 33 | 75% <== Recognize exotic species

Otherwise, he will take in the pageantry and rely on his sixth sense to alert him of impending danger.

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [32] = 32 /52%
Just in Case: 1d20: [20] = 20 ; 1d100: [67] = 67
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive)

H.P.: 27/22
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 239/239
Current Outfit: Clothes (White Dress Shirt, Black Dress Pants, Black Vest, Black Long Coat, Dress Shoes), Red Scarf, Weapon Harness.

I.D. Undercover Agent 1d100: [9] = 9 /55% Pass (Looking for security.)
Surveillance 1d100: [8] = 8 /65% Pass (Keeping an eye on things.)

Ghast spends a bit of time going through Juan's closet looking for an outfit to wear to the dinner. The idea of what to wear is not the hard part for Ghast, the hard part is finding stuff that fit out of the shear amount of clothes he has. Ghast is mildly impressed at the implications, and a little horrified. What size pants do I even wear? Ghast thinks as he grabs a few pairs from a pile. Ghast is polite though, and folds up the ones he doesn't wear. After a solid hour, Ghast steps out of the closet wearing simple but nice clothes that would allow him to blend in a bit better at the dinner.

Ghast eventually makes his way into the dinner, after being introduced. Ghast slowly wanders the room for a bit, looking for a few things before considering anyone to talk to, if needed. Security details... likely. Ghast thinks to himself, and for once his brain doesn't argue with him. Ghast eyes the guests, and considers the task. Make nice, make contacts, make them like the folk here... I am not built for this. When the party is moved to sit at the table, Ghast again looks to whom he's seated next to, and inwardly sighs. Let's do this

Ghast looks to the Atlantean sitting next to him. "Greetings, I am Ghast. How are you this evening?"

[Chef Icky]

Perception: 1d100<61: [65] = 0
JIC: 1d20: [16] = 16 / 1d100: [50] = 50

After getting Kaedras put to bed, Icky checks on Alison- she is curled up next to a portable computer, sound asleep by the time Icky gets there. As Icky leans over to pick her up and take her to bed, something about the computer catches his eye. Is that… the Rate-A-Deity logo? A closer look at the page will confirm it does appear to be content from that blasted site, but any more information you hope to glean from the machine itself will require a computer operation roll. Regardless, nobody appears to be turning into any funky demonkin tonight, so both Icky and Metri retire. Icky brushes up on his reading about the Yayamama pantheon, and both of you ask Datephus to keep an eye out for your visitors. ”AFFIRMATIVE. LONG-RANGE SENSORS ENGAGED.”

What the frell? RATE-A-DEITY???? Icky's brow furrows in concern as he scoops up Alison in his massive arms and takes her away to tuck her into bed. Once she's taken care of, he quickly comes back and picks up the computer. "Oi, Datephus..." he mutters. "Did Alison ask ya ta pull up stuff from dat Rate-A-Deity site? An' if so, what kinda stuff was she lookin' fer?"

While he's waiting for a response, he starts poking around the computer trying to find out what sort of information she's been accessing. What in the Hades Twelve would a 3-year old want to find on this site? And why would a 3-year-old even want to go to this site in the first place?

Computer Operation (to find out what's been accessed both on the ship's systems and on the RaD website) -- 1d100<89: [4*] = 1

When Datephus responds, and regardless of what he responds with, Icky will nod and say "Alright den, once I'm done 'ere I want ya ta block access ta dat site across da farkin' board. Nobody on board gets ta access it, an' it don't get ta access our computers -- or you -- until I tell ya directly otherwise. An' I wanna know every time dere's an attempt from either end. Last thing we need is whatever infected dat server trackin' us by our Tri-Galactic IP address. Got it?" Assuming it hasn't already... a little voice in the back of Icky's mind makes his ears flick irritably.

If it appears that there's been a data breach, and especially if it appears that someone's accessed the ship's location via the RaD site, then he'll call Starchief on a secure channel. "Oi, Meatball, it's me -- get yer arse back ta da ship ASAP; we got a situation." When he shows up Icky will give him the full report.

If things still appear secure for the time being, he'll proceed as normal -- reading up on the local pantheon (especially Peg, because better safe than sorry), then doing a sweep of the ship and checking in on Sarge before returning to Alison's cabin and looking in on her one last time (using his innate nightvision instead of turning on lights and possibly waking her up) before turning in himself.

---------------------------------------------------------

The next morning he gets a response from Starchief.

"Get out your fancies, Chef. We're dressing up for the gala! You might want to come check out this huge room. Juan's walk-in closet has a walk-in closet."

"Oi, I'm afraid me fancies wouldn't count as fancies wit' dis bunch..." he chuckles. "We'll be over dere shortly."

Juan gathers everyone and sees about his closet. Over the next several hours, everyone is able to pick an outfit that Juan assures you is appropriate for the occasion (anyone wishing a second opinion can get confirmation from Joan, much to your surprise). The godling himself is too large in stature for any of his clothes to fit most of you, but Juan’s ex-consorts and their leavings come in all shapes and sizes. It may not be quick, it will definitely be ugly, and it’s anyone’s guess whether that’s a deliberate pattern for a dried-up stain but eventually everyone finds something that works.

While Alison is having a grand time playing 'dress-up' with the rest of the crew, Icky is having anything but. At one point in the process he looks exasperatingly over at Juan. "Are ya absolutely sure I can't just wear me clubbin' threads or me ol' Dress Blues from back in da corps? I feel like some badly-wrapped present at a drunken bachelor party in dis getup..." If Juan/Joan agrees then he'll dress up in his old dress uniform, but if they insist on Icky being dolled up in true Yayamama regalia, then he'll just sigh. "Alright, Red, but ya owe me." Regardless, he'll keep his pistol tucked away inside his outfit and his HPC on his wrist.

If Icky Didn't Talk To Starchief Last Night

At some point during the process he'll look for an opportunity where Starchief is off by himself a bit. Oi Meatball, it's me... he sends telepathically. Lissen, last night when I was checkin' on Alison I saw where she was browsin' 'round da Rate-A-Deity website. I told Datephus ta block all access goin' to an' comin' from it, but it seemed kinda screwy... If he was able to figure out what was being accessed, he'll relay that telepathically as well.

OOC: Using Telepathy -- 4 ISP, 16 minutes

Eventually he joins the rest of the group waiting to enter the gala, with Alison carried in the crook of his arm. "Oi, Lil' Britches, I need ya ta stay close ta me an' be on yer best behavior alright? It may not seem like too much fun tonight but we'll get ta eat in a lil' bit." she gives him a nod, and he gives her a gentle hug in return (being careful that he doesn't squish her with his prodigious strength). "Dat's me girl."

Joan, seeming oblivious, leans forward and says ”If any of you has a preferred introduction, merely let my seneschal know.” Regardless, after a few minutes of this you are shown to the banquet hall- Joan and Johnny have places with about half the delegates (the dwarves and humans, specifically) at the main table, alongside Jeb and Peg and a few other locals you don’t recognize. The rest of you are relegated to a table with the other half of the visitors, including some particularly exotic species (galactic lore roll if you want to know which ones). Those of you who can speak Trade 4 will be able to catch the introductions- fortunately the seneschal has no trace of his earlier nervousness.

”PRESENTINGGG TO ONE AND ALL. THE MOST ESTEEMED DELEGATES FROM OUR NEIGHBORS, THE UNITED WORLDS OF WARLOCK. REPRESENTING THE DWARVEN GUILDMASTERS: GUILDSMASTER TORVIN BEKLAR, UNDERQUARRIER GORK THORA, AND FIRST SECRETARY GILDA BEKK. REPRESENTING THE WARLOCKS, BROTHER INTAR AND SISTER ELBA. REPRESENTING THE FREE PEOPLES OF LIBERTY PRIME: DROK’TAR NALATHODZ, BAHKI LEE AND ATTENDANT, AND THIRD COUNCILOR SSHIRA. FINALLY, ON BEHALF OF THE TRUE ATLANTEANS OF ALEXANDRA, SIR JACKSON THORSGIL.” After that, the seneschal will add any introductions you saw fit to give him- but at a minimum, he will add ”WE ARE ALSO HONORED TO RECEIVE THIS EVENING THE WANDERER, HOME FROM ONE OF HIS MANY LENGTHY JOURNIES, AND TRAVELING COMPANIONS.”

Icky glances down at the seneschal and chuckles. "Alright, chum, ya can introduce us as 'Chef Iktinos, formerly of da Warlock Marines an' current priest o' Dionysus, an' his daughter, Alison.'" Maybe that'll help break the ice with some of these U-Dub highnoses, he adds silently. As the group is introduced and they enter the ballroom, Icky does a visual sweep of the room -- obvious security guards, not-so-obvious security guards, servants, guests, anyone who looks like they don't belong or might be 'up to something,' etc. -- while maneuvering themselves around and making various introductions/small talk.

Detect Ambush -- 1d100<89: [67*] = 1 (to see if anyone might be hidden away that shouldn't be there)
Detect Concealment 1d100<79: [30*] = 1 (to see if anything might be hidden away that shouldn't be there)

Once seated with Alison beside him (hopefully she gets a booster seat) he looks around at his companions and the other guests (trying to identify who's who and who's what), giving each one a nod and a smile. "Oi, so anyone familiar wit' Yayamama cuisine? I gotta confess, I'm a lil' too territorial ta let Juan do much cookin' in me galley on board da ship."

Lore: Galactic/Alien -- 1d100<60: [75] = 0 (trying to identify who's who and who's what)
Lore: Galactic/Alien -- 1d100<60: [10*] = 1 (2nd attempt at trying to identify who's who and who's what)

[Captain Andra Sekona]

Perception: 1d100: [52] = 52 /62%
JIC: 1d20: [14] = 14 / 1d100: [10] = 10

If it appears that there's been a data breach, and especially if it appears that someone's accessed the ship's location via the RaD site, then he'll call Starchief on a secure channel. "Oi, Meatball, it's me -- get yer arse back ta da ship ASAP; we got a situation." When he shows up Icky will give him the full report.

"Copy that, Starchief en route." Starchief will rocket himself back to the Dime Store Magic with haste to match the urgency he heard in Chef Icky's voice.
"Alright, Chef, what's the emergency?" When he gets the rundown, Starchief ponders for a moment. "Datephus, systems check. Have you had any contact with Rate a Deity?" Turning back to Icky, he asks "How's Alison? Any signs of the supernatural or that coma the psychic woman went into?"

• If he's able to sort things out and determine that there's no problem, he'll head back to
  
  .
• If a threat is obvious, he will recall the team to end it.
• If he's even partially sketched out, he will sleep aboard the DSM.

---

---

Adorned with Blue and Red glitter, decked out in a Squeekeg's Navy Coat of +5 Coffin Sleeping, and properly ready to party, Andra "Starchief" Sekona heads out to the feast with Juan.

Joan, seeming oblivious, leans forward and says ”If any of you has a preferred introduction, merely let my seneschal know.”

Starchief nods and approaches the seneschal. "Introductions. Big deal, right? Mind if I see that list?" Starchief takes the list from the seneschal and grabs a writing implement from the nearest receptacle. Scrawling something down, he hands it back and pats the majordomo on the back, returning to his seat. "Cool pens."

• Blah blah
• Blah-de-blah-blah
• Bloop-bloop-bleep-blop
• Cheerleader
• Soandso
• Whatsherface
• Theuglyone
• ANDRA SEKONA, STARCHIEF OF THE PEOPLE'S EMANCIPATION ALLIANCE OF SEERON
• blah

"The glitter itches. Why does it itch?" He waits for them to be announced and follows suit when Juan thrusts. If your host says 'Thrust', you thrust. Oh, frak... Joan, are you listening? Starchief looks her way to see if she was paying attention.

If Icky Didn't Talk To Starchief Last Night]At some point during the process he'll look for an opportunity where Starchief is off by himself a bit. Oi Meatball, it's me... he sends telepathically. Lissen, last night when I was checkin' on Alison I saw where she was browsin' 'round da Rate-A-Deity website. I told Datephus ta block all access goin' to an' comin' from it, but it seemed kinda screwy... If he was able to figure out what was being accessed, he'll relay that telepathically as well.

God? Is that you? Oh wait, I know that voice. Why does it sound the same in my head as it does out loud? Weird. Anyway, go on. He lets Icky get to the end and then thinks Enough is enough! I have had it with this muthafrakin' Rate-A-Deity on this muthafrakin' ship!
Here's the plan. We get through this, save Thraxus' ass and then give him the server. He's got enough people on his retainer, I'm sure someone will crack the code and figure out what the hell that thing is doing! Ahem. OK, back to Calmchief. I'm going to go schmooze with some foreign digitaries.

Starchief walks up to the Free Peoples of Liberty Prime, smile on his face, glitter on his teeth. Giving a half bow at the waist to each as he says their name, "Drok'tar Nalathodz. Bahki Lee. Third Counsilor Sshira." Raising up to his full height, he dives right in. "Free Peoples of Liberty Prime. Please, tell me of your struggles. My people would love to regale in tales of those who threw off a yoke. Who were your oppressors? What great battle was fought to gain such an illustrious name?" (Charm: 1d100: [47] = 47 /45% - FAIL, Trust: 1d100: [61] = 61 /92% - PASS) If any of them look like they're a sucker for a perfect jawline, gorgeous red eyes, a physique chiseled from Kiss-entite and...achem... If any of them look susceptible to his masculine wiles, Andra will lock eyes with them. But like... in a really hot way. (Seduction: 1d100: [6] = 6 /78%)

[Draggor]

Perception: 1d100: [1] = 1 | 27%
JIC: 1d20: 1d20: [16] = 16 | 1d100: [61] = 61

Intelligence (4%) 1d100: [98] = 98 | 67% to see who here has had any kind of interaction on the net, Rate a Diety, and/or demon problems.
Lore: Galactic Aliens (5%) 1d100: [72] = 72 | 55% to know a thing or two about some of these aliens at the banquet


Finishing Evening Conversation With Joan

”Oh, I am sorry to tease you so- I know little about you or my prior visitor, but I will of course tell you what I can. He crashed in a ship- I didn’t recognize any of it, but that was because it burned up in re-entry. Frankly, I was shocked anyone could survive such a crash- the urqos could only get near if we granted them powerful magical protection, but by the time we got there the alien- Drakos was his name- looked perfectly healthy and also perfectly naked.” She snickers. ”Not that any of us minded, of course, but we did give him some clothing. He was insistent on getting off world- said that if he didn’t that whatever was hunting him would come here and that we would suffer as a result. I tried to tell him that the Goddess of Hospitality does not turn away a guest- particularly one who might bring more guests! But he refused to stay, so I sent him to my cousin three valleys over. He knows something of portal magic. I just hope Drakos got to where he was going. I hope you can find him- it is quite curious, the two of you, aliens lost in a galaxy full of other aliens, yet both finding your way here.”

Questions arrive in the creature's mind too quickly to sort out, and a few even get vocalized: "Looked like... me? Had eyes?" Hunted... were they captured like us? Think! We're happy to be among Juan's people. Yet they left... Whatever Draggor can get out of Joan, at the very least a name of said portal-magic-wielding-cousin, three valleys over!

As much as inner voices agree upon the fantastic nature of said news, demeanor once more changes upon mention the 'net, clear concern and skepticism on display. "Careful. We fought demons linked to.. Rate a diety." At the suggestion that tomorrow's events might also install a computer, Draggor adds, "If need one, ask us first." Joan's proven to be a force of nature, maybe this way of asking will head off the topic tomorrow.

The Banquet

Maybe it's making up for lost time with how the creature revels in digging through wardrobes. Many things are tried on, an unseen guide nudging towards a lovely, if complex final ensemble. In the waiting area, Draggor warns the group of Joan's interest in our problematic common thread, and ensures that Joan doesn't overhear either. "Wants to get on the 'net. Don't think we're done with the demons." An ominous thought and warning.

”If any of you has a preferred introduction, merely let my seneschal know.”

The beast provides a verbal introduction, "Representing the Argent Warriors, Draggor." ...why did I say that? We've done, and been, many things. Is Drakos one too? Draggor takes great effort to scan the room during their introduction in hopes to see if anyone reacts. When it is time to mingle, if there is such a person, the beast is quick to approach, offering a bow and rolling of both hands, ending in palms facing upwards, "Greetings. Am Draggor. Heard Yayamama system wants to get... plugged in?" they say, attempting some form of joking version of getting online, but clearly fishing for more information about Rate a Diety and if offered, demonic problems.

[Exe]

Perception: 1d100: [20] = 20 /39%
JiC: 1d20: [19] = 19 | 1d100: [49] = 49

Conditions: Sense Rifts [110 miles] | Res to Cold/Fire (1/2) | Bio-Regen 1d6*5/min | Sixth Sense [Inactive]

MDC: 147/147 PPE: 282/282 ISP: 35/35

| See Aura

Skills
Lore, Galactic and Alien: 1d100: [45] = 45 /61% (Who are the delegates)

Post

"I must have worn this when I was about your age. It will look good on you!"

Exe holds up the cloths and then looks up to Juan through the squinted eyes of disapproval and grumbles. "This is not okay." Exe mutters and glances to Matthew who looks down at the young demigod with a look of just do it prompting the teenager to sigh and roll his eyes. Gonna have to get my own nice wear after this. Ugh. So many frills. Exe thinks to himself looking over the outfit before caving and putting it on. The party might be fun, but I doubt it. Exe muses as he changes and readies himself for the party.

As the other ship arrives, Exe will communicate with his familiar. Hey bud, keep an eye out for us. He asks his faithful companion to watch the skies and warn him of anything amiss. Exe filters into the Hall and sees the seneschal clutching the list and he nods. Okay, guest list probably? Wait, did I see our names on it? Exe suddenly thinks back to if he say any of the Adventurers on it specifically, or Thraxus.

”If any of you has a preferred introduction, merely let my seneschal know.”

Exe glances to Juan's sister and stutters at the question. "Uhh, not one?" Exe sheepishly asks regarding introductions and glances between Joan and the nervous seneschal. When the others start actually adding greetings, the young demigod sighs again and glances to Matthew who nods, as if to say 'embrace it, master it.' Exe clears his throat and nods. "Uh, Oren Exe, Son of Millavera of Sillenda" Exe says meekly, not having actually said that formerly in many years. "And my attendant, Ser Matthew." Exe says after a deep breathe. Come on, its not like anyone here would know or care about your backwater planet. If you can barely even say it outloud here, what's that say about how you even feel. Whatever. Exe's stomach feels lighter after talking to the Seneschal.

Exe will then quickly move in and try to shy back from the limelight during the introductions as he looks over to the table they are sitting at. Hmm. What have we here? Exe thinks as he takes his seat. He'll continue studying the fellows at the table until the seneschal speaks.

”PRESENTINGGG TO ONE AND ALL. THE MOST ESTEEMED DELEGATES FROM OUR NEIGHBORS, THE UNITED WORLDS OF WARLOCK. REPRESENTING THE DWARVEN GUILDMASTERS: GUILDSMASTER TORVIN BEKLAR, UNDERQUARRIER GORK THORA, AND FIRST SECRETARY GILDA BEKK. REPRESENTING THE WARLOCKS, BROTHER INTAR AND SISTER ELBA. REPRESENTING THE FREE PEOPLES OF LIBERTY PRIME: DROK’TAR NALATHODZ, BAHKI LEE AND ATTENDANT, AND THIRD COUNCILOR SSHIRA. FINALLY, ON BEHALF OF THE TRUE ATLANTEANS OF ALEXANDRA, SIR JACKSON THORSGIL.” After that, the seneschal will add any introductions you saw fit to give him- but at a minimum, he will add ”WE ARE ALSO HONORED TO RECEIVE THIS EVENING THE WANDERER, HOME FROM ONE OF HIS MANY LENGTHY JOURNIES, AND TRAVELING COMPANIONS.”

Exe will visibly wince when he's introduced but smile and wave, nodding. Exe will watch the others as they are introduced and try to place names to faces and peg them to the list he read earlier. I wonder who these guys are, really. Exe thinks as he studies them and watches the interactions from his teammates. He'll reach out to his familiar after introductions. Thing's still okay out there? Exe asks his companion, and otherwise watches. Not having the stature to approach anyone opening, the teen will instead enjoy the free food and societal people-watching for now. Exe will activate See Aura (6) as he looks at the delegates.

[Dark Lord]

Leading up to the banquet, Draggor gets the name and location of this cousin out of Joan readily enough, but that’s about all she knows regarding the… whoever they were. Before departing, the alien shares with Joan his concerns regarding Rate-A-Deity, to which she replies ”Oh, that. Thank you. I suppose if we ever get connected to the ‘net we’ll have to do something about that.” She adds with a smile. Meanwhile, Icky heads back to the ship and makes an alarming discovery. Alison has apparently been browsing that Site Which Shall Not Be Named. As he quickly takes Alison to bed (and the computer AWAY) she can sense his alarm and whimpers in a small voice. ”I was looking for my mommy.” Icky does his best to reassure her, but later on he’ll hear her crying. Eventually, she cries herself to sleep. Meanwhile, damage control. With a few quick taps Icky is able to access the activity log for the system. It all started out innocuous enough- kid-friendly infotainment as dictated by the algorithms, but then she somehow figured out how to access an unfiltered search. You’re able to call up her

what happens when you die
afterlife
gods

, and it’s not a big leap to figure out how she ended up looking at a rating site for all the different gods. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think someone was chopping onions in here. You’re also able to access the hardware settings for the device, and can confirm (with Datephus) that the computer was connecting through a fully-isolated partition within the ship’s systems- no access to anything including the light controls. Datephus immediately wipes the affected segments and performs a deep-level scan; the next morning he is able to confirm that no breach occurred and no trace of the site remains. The site is now blocked from anywhere using the ship’s systems to connect to the galactic ‘net, but Datephus also notes that personal devices will be able to circumvent it in areas with high connectivity. With a sigh of relief, Icky decides not to bother Starchief until the next day. He then trudges off to bed, adrenaline wearing off and replacing itself with a more generalized, chronic worry that is sadly familiar to all parents. What happens next? When you finally turn in, Alison is still crying. You do your best to console her. Damn onions. The rest of the evening is uneventful, thanks be to big D.

The next day, Metri spends his time in quiet contemplation aboard the Dime Store Magic. It is a studied contrast to the hectic activity no doubt occurring in preparation for the evening's festivities, and Metri welcomes the opportunity to prepare himself for what is sure to be an interesting evening. He notes when the UWW ship sets down, and after a tasteful delay the Yhabbayar ambles over to introduce himself. As it turns out, two of the delegates are already outside- both human (Warlocks, you will learn that evening). They appear to be taking in the planet’s natural elements- or at least, one of them is while the other one looks on impassively. Before Metri’s arrival is noticed, he can hear the observer say to her companion (who is busy with feet planted, eyes closed, and arms outstretched) ”I told you not to pick earth.” She the cuts off as she notices Metri’s arrival. Her companion (a man) immediately follows suit. Before they can ask, Metri introduces himself. The man looks at his companion warily, and says ”Intar and Elba.” As Metri inquires about them and their ship, Intar cuts the Yhabbayar off and says in a mildly reproving tone ”I’m sorry, but we are not authorized to have spontaneous unilateral diplomatic contacts. Please excuse us.” With a nod to Elba (who returns the nod, still smirking a bit) the two of them immediately retreat into their ship. Metri gets no sense of either life or death from them, which could mean anything. Are warlocks neutral because of their dedication to the elements, or because they do for equal parts life and death?

Back at the citadels, Juan takes some time between his preparations and manages to snag a copy of the guest list. There is nobody he recognizes, but the UWW is the closest large power bloc so at least some of them are likely involved with the local bureaucracy. At least, one would hope. After spending a restful night in one of the bedrooms adjoining Juan’s, Starchief leads the charge in getting decked out and beglittered and all that jazz. The end result is every bit as fabulous as his introduction later that evening- how he finds a multi-colored pen so fast nobody knows, but there it is and there it goes. You almost don’t notice him incessantly itching himself. That glitter rides up everywhere. When Juan notices, he suddenly remembers with a start. Wasn’t Trixie the one who was really into sadomasochism? Icky shows up after a while with Alison and while she’s stopped crying (mostly) she’s still sad as all get out. In between getting their outfits sorted, Icky pulls Starchief aside for a quick telepathic conversation about what happened with Rate-A-Deity aboard the ship. While there appears to be no immediate threat you are both more than ready to be rid of this pesky social media network. Finally, Draggor gets a lovely and complex ensemble together, much to the approval of Joan and some of the Urqos when they finally unveil it.

At the banquet, Juan kicks things off after the UWW delegates with his own fabulous entrance- enters to applause that pretty quickly trails off after the oh-so-tasteful hip-thrusting. In the finest Yayamama tradition. Exe, who has resented every minute of having to dress up (especially in Juan’s hand-me-downs, yuck), sends his familiar outside to watch the perimeter. And to just keep him away from what is sure to be an interesting evening. The rest of you have gotten as glammed up as you’re going to courtesy of Juan’s wardrobe- it’s amazing how much stuff you can accumulate over a few millennia if you never visit home. Everyone’s introductions go as fabulously as planned (or not- Draggor’s introduction draws polite aplomb but no signs of recognition). Ghast gives the banquet hall a security once-over before he takes his seat. Security is apparently nonexistent (unless the urqos count, which seems unlikely), multiple avenues of attack into the main hall, not a lot of cover if it comes to a firefight. You do notice that the Dwarves are all armed. Meanwhile Icky arrives with Alison in tow, but before he can take their seats he hears a guttural ”YOOOOU HOOO, YOUR HOLINESS! C’MERE, I SAVED YOU A SEAT NEXT TO ME. BRING THE GIRL.” She calls out to Icky and waves him over, and in fact two places have been cleared (is there some reason nobody wants to sit next to Peg?). Regardless, Icky finds an appropriate seat for his daughter easily enough, and she clings to Icky- a little trooper, that one. The ex-marine suppresses a sigh as he looks around the hall again. Protecting Alison from a stray blast is gonna be a nightmare and a half. Icky also notices that the Dwarves (seated down the table from him and Peg) are packing heat- quite literally, in one case, if you recognize the model correctly. With the ex-slaves bringing up some none-too-fond (and none-too-compatible with eating) memories of another life, Icky decides to stay next to Juan’s cousin and keep an eye on the bearded ones. And everybody else. Once she’s served, Alison proceeds to quietly pick away at an entirely too small portion of dinner for the rest of the evening (barring any shenanigans). When Icky himself digs in, he is a little surprised to learn that the cuisine is top tier. All of it, without exception, is absolutely fantastic. Top ten best meals ever? Maybe. Top twenty? Definitely. I guess they don’t call Him the Chef for nothing.

Dinner is served, and it really is quite exquisite. Most of you try to restrain your praise for fear of offending Icky, but the delegates (especially the dwarves) suffer no such restraint. Not with their words, and certainly not with their alcohol consumption. It wouldn’t surprise those of you who know about such things if they’d started early that day. No doubt fearing Yayamama liquor wasn't up to the task ahead of it. Only to be delightfully corrected of their misapprehension almost immediately. It’s gonna get loud, quick. And they’re armed. What could go wrong? At one point during dinner, Joan jabs Johnny and says ”Your friend told me about that website you’ve been having trouble with- whatsit, Rate-A-Deity? Maybe Torvin here knows something.” She points at the senior dwarf, seated on her other side. At this, Torvin belches and slurs ”Rate-A-whas???” Looking blearily at Juan even as he empties his cup yet again. Gods, it’s not even 7.

On the other side of the main table, Icky is forced to contend with a depressed daughter on one hand, Peg’s none-too-subtle attempts at footsie on another, and the warlock sitting across from you on the third. The man has been staring daggers at you all dinner, saying nothing and eating sparingly. At first you tried to ignore it for the sake of decorum, but eventually (or if you call him out or ask him anything) he’ll say ”You seem like a well-traveled man. Tell me, have you been to Phase World recently? I myself haven’t since before the invasion. I hear it was simply awful.” He keeps a pleasant but sharp monotone throughout, looking at Icky with hard black eyes.

At the lower table, Metri leads you off in introducing yourselves and the delegates respond in kind-

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, and

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from Liberty Prime. Those of you who made your lore roll can identify them as a Rulian, a Zembahk, and a Shaydor Spherian respectively. All Splugorth slave races. Metri finds himself seated next to the Zembahk and his (her?) human attendant, tasked with carrying around the giant worm in a small tank filled with some kind of fluid. Shortly after you sit down to dinner, the worm in the tank gestures one end and the attendant smiles. ”Ms. Lee asks me to beg your pardon. Her species does not take of nutrition the same way we do, and, well” he smiles awkwardly ”She finds the whole process mildly, ah, repulsive. She assures me that she will be present for the negotiations proper, and hopes she can avoid a diplomatic incident by leaving her body here. Just for the eating, you understand.” A few minutes later, those of you that can see astral entities will see the form of the Zembahk fly out from her tank, a thin silver cord trailing behind. Joan, for her part, seems completely unconcerned and bids her guest a good trip with a wave and a smile.

Also at the table is Sir Jackson Thorsgil, to whom Ghast introduces himself. The Atlantean immediately offers a handshake, careful not to do any damage, and returns the psi-slayer’s introduction with one of his own. ”Sir Jackson Thorsgil, representing the people of Alexandria. A pleasure to meet you sir. Tell me, what brings you out to the far-off corner of the galaxy? A worthy cause, I hope?” Meanwhile, Draggor finds themselves talking to Drok’tar, who seems like a perfectly affable chap and happy to converse on any topic. After some polite small talk, Draggor segues into mentioning getting the planet’s internet up. The Rulian nods enthusiastically (and it is quite a nod with that forehead- almost takes out a chandelier) and says ”Oh, yes. Isn’t it wonderful? Just one of the package of benefits that comes with Associate status. I always find it so fascinating how the free flow of information will change the culture and society when it first comes into contact with a new world, don’t you agree? And the UWW’s infrastructure just makes it so easy- the size of a briefcase. You just set it up at one of your ley line nexuses and it uses a micro-rift to maintain the connection. Doesn’t even interfere with pyramid operations! Oh, what a time to be alive.” The man’s pleasure seems genuine, from what you can tell. With Exe sitting silently at the end of the table as only a teenager can, that leaves Starchief to talk up the tentacled balloon on stilts. Counsilor Sshira, however, proves an adept conversationalist who is especially delighted when she learns that Starchief’s ring (assuming he’s wearing it) will allow them to chat in her native language. ”Oh! I do so miss being able to speak so! But yes- ours is a tale that is tragically all too familiar in the Three Galaxies. Centuries of Splugorth oppression, of mutilation and slavery. But, these past few years the Splugorth are growing weaker. Talk of rebellion among the minion races. Ancient gods dying or disappearing. We saw our chance and we took it- we took our liberty!” Sshira regales you with some of her tales from the resistance. In truth, it sounds like she joined it a little late. But you smile and nod politely, and after a few vignettes she will return the favor. ”I can sense the emotion behind your interest. What of your people? Have they also retaken their liberty?”

At the end of the table, and still a little resentful of having to dress up, Exe hangs out and scans the crowd. Next to him, Matthew silently, eating occasionally for appearance’s sake, but not saying much beyond polite, empty pleasantries. Nobody seems to have much interest talking to a kid, and that suits Exe just fine as he sits back, eats his meal, and scans everyone’s auras. The team looks fine- Alison too from what you can tell at this distance. In terms of level, the delegates are all generally midrange, with the Zembahk’s attendant being low level. They’re all visibly non-human except for the Atlantean (though the tattoos kinda give it away) and the Zembahk’s attendant, but their auras read as non-human (or whatever) regardless. That is, with the exception of Sshira, the… woman? Talking to Starchief. She has no aura. Like, none. But she sure doesn’t look like a machine, unless-

Give me another lore check at -20% to remember that Shaydors are naturally impervious to psionics

. Finally, nobody looks possessed and the PPE level is high pretty much across the board (barring some of the ex-Splugorth slave stock); about what you’d expect from a primarily magic-using civilization.


What are you doing?

[Ghast]

Perception: 1d100: [63] = 63 /52%
Just in Case: 1d20: [17] = 17 ; 1d100: [64] = 64
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive)

H.P.: 27/22
S.D.C.: 70/70
I.S.P.: 239/239
Current Outfit: Clothes (White Dress Shirt, Black Dress Pants, Black Vest, Black Long Coat, Dress Shoes), Red Scarf, Weapon Harness.
Weapons & Armor
Armor: None.
Weapons: NE-4 Plasma Cartridge Pistol Ammo: 10/10
Slicer GR-Gun Ammo: 12/12

Also at the table is Sir Jackson Thorsgil, to whom Ghast introduces himself. The Atlantean immediately offers a handshake, careful not to do any damage, and returns the psi-slayer’s introduction with one of his own. ”Sir Jackson Thorsgil, representing the people of Alexandria. A pleasure to meet you sir. Tell me, what brings you out to the far-off corner of the galaxy? A worthy cause, I hope?”

Ghast returns the handshake, and smiles. "Work mostly. Acting as an entourage for demigods. Though to be fair I mostly run security, as they are a little flighty on the idea of actually paying attention to their surroundings." Ghast says with a chuckle. "Alexandria, huh. Been a few years since I last saw that fine planet. I was working for different employers at the time though. What brings Alexandria out to the Yayamama? Trade I would assume, but my client hasn't exactly been rich with details the past few days." Ghast says, hoping his conversation doesn't seem too out of place. Ghast takes another look around the hall. This is a tactical nightmare. Ghast thinks.

User: Vaingloria_21
Rating: 7.1 out of 10

Hired this assassin to kill my older brother on Alexandria. Wanted it to look like an accident. Somehow he managed to get one of his guards to summon a Large Reptilian Creature on the roof of the building he was in. The resultant collapse did the job, but ruined the house I wanted, so I requested a partial refund.

[Chef Icky]

Perception: 53/58%
JIC d20: 14
JIC d100: 64

Conditions:
- I.S.P.: 64/68

Two words: damn onions.

Icky arrives with Alison in tow, but before he can take their seats he hears a guttural ”YOOOOU HOOO, YOUR HOLINESS! C’MERE, I SAVED YOU A SEAT NEXT TO ME. BRING THE GIRL.” She calls out to Icky and waves him over, and in fact two places have been cleared (is there some reason nobody wants to sit next to Peg?). Regardless, Icky finds an appropriate seat for his daughter easily enough, and she clings to Icky- a little trooper, that one. The ex-marine suppresses a sigh as he looks around the hall again. Protecting Alison from a stray blast is gonna be a nightmare and a half. Icky also notices that the Dwarves (seated down the table from him and Peg) are packing heat- quite literally, in one case, if you recognize the model correctly. With the ex-slaves bringing up some none-too-fond (and none-too-compatible with eating) memories of another life, Icky decides to stay next to Juan’s cousin and keep an eye on the bearded ones. And everybody else. Once she’s served, Alison proceeds to quietly pick away at an entirely too small portion of dinner for the rest of the evening (barring any shenanigans). When Icky himself digs in, he is a little surprised to learn that the cuisine is top tier. All of it, without exception, is absolutely fantastic. Top ten best meals ever? Maybe. Top twenty? Definitely. I guess they don’t call Him the Chef for nothing.

Dinner is served, and it really is quite exquisite. Most of you try to restrain your praise for fear of offending Icky, but the delegates (especially the dwarves) suffer no such restraint. Not with their words, and certainly not with their alcohol consumption. It wouldn’t surprise those of you who know about such things if they’d started early that day. No doubt fearing Yayamama liquor wasn't up to the task ahead of it. Only to be delightfully corrected of their misapprehension almost immediately. It’s gonna get loud, quick. And they’re armed. What could go wrong?

Icky sighs a little inwardly when he hears Peg's voice. "Looks like our seats've been reserved, Lil' Britches -- an' it looks like we both gotta behave durin' dinner..." he gives her a chuckle as he walks over to the table. "Oi dere, Peg, I'd like ya ta meet me gal Alison. Lil' Britches, dis is Peg. She's part o' Uncle Juan's family." With introductions and obligatory small talk made, Icky and his daughter take their seats. While waiting on their dinner to be served he'll point out races he recognizes and tells Alison what he knows about them. When he gets to the dwarves, he can't help but chuckle just a bit to himself. Not too long ago I'd consider that a right good time in the works... he thinks to himself as he notices their headlong plunge into being well and truly plastered. He glances down at Alison. Maybe after someone's bedtime.

The feel of a rub on his leg brings his thoughts back to the subject of a good time of a completely different sort in the works. Speaking of possibly after someone's bedtime... "Oi, so is dis kinda shindig standard fare 'round 'ere? An' ya hang 'round 'ere much, or are ya like Juan an' spend a lot o' time out an' about da galaxies?" He doesn't do anything to discourage Peg's advances, but he also doesn't do anything to unduly encourage her either. He gives Peg a nod towards Alison to hint at his desire to behave at least for the moment.

When the food finally arrives, Icky can scarcely believe his taste buds. "Oi, Peg, I gotta admit I'm impressed. I've studied recipes an' techniques from da arse-ends o' da Consortium to da nether-regions o' da Empire an' all points in between... an' from da Alexandrian fournos to da Wolfen culinas an' to da New Midgard longhouse hearths, an' even ta Thraxus' private kitchens... but I can't remember better fare dan dis right 'ere. Ya reckon Da Chef might be willin' ta talk shop a bit while we're visitin'?"

On the other side of the main table, Icky is forced to contend with a depressed daughter on one hand, Peg’s none-too-subtle attempts at footsie on another, and the warlock sitting across from you on the third. The man has been staring daggers at you all dinner, saying nothing and eating sparingly. At first you tried to ignore it for the sake of decorum, but eventually (or if you call him out or ask him anything) he’ll say ”You seem like a well-traveled man. Tell me, have you been to Phase World recently? I myself haven’t since before the invasion. I hear it was simply awful.” He keeps a pleasant but sharp monotone throughout, looking at Icky with hard black eyes.

Yes, let's make this two-way juggling act just a bit harder... Icky thinks to himself when the warlock finally gives up the silent treatment. He puts on his best 'pleasant conversation' expression. "Oi, chum, dat's as good a word fer it as any..." he sighs a bit as he nods. "Da demons an' da deevils couldn't keep their war in their pants an' decided ta invite all o' Center fer ringside seats. Lotta good folks got hurt jus' fer bein' in da wrong place at da wrong time. We helped who we could as much as we could, but dere was a lot o' 'em an' not a lot o' us. But ya gotta try, right?" He gives a sad glance over at Alison, who he hopes isn't paying attention. When he sees her face he knows better. Giving her a hug he says "I'm sorry darlin'. I promise we'll start back lookin' fer yer family when we get back. Who knows? Maybe Missus Pahts has found somethin' out."

He looks back over at the warlock. "Oi, chum, I can tell ya got somethin' 'bout ta boil over dere... Ya wanna vent some steam later, I'm game ta listen to ya gettin' it off yer chest -- but not 'ere, kay? She's been through 'nuff fer a while."