calderamemes | TDM #6

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!mod post,
!tdm

TDM #6

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

"The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs."

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

"Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

SHADOW ELIXER an inky black liquid that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it. Grants temporary invisibility in darkness, but also makes the drinker whisper secrets unknowingly.

WIDOWS KISS A velvety red-black wine. One sip fills you with irresistible charm.

FOOL'S ECLIPSE A deep, glossy black drink with a golden swirl that never fully mixes in. Every sip tastes slightly different: sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, sometimes oddly salty for no reason at all. After one drink, the drinker's speech becomes hilariously jumbled, replacing random words with completely unrelated ones.

BLURBERRY FIZZ A deep blue liquid that constantly fizzess with tiny silver bubbles. When poured, the bubbles briefly form random shapes: sometimes a cat, sometimes a shoe, sometimes... a tiny screaming face (but only for a second). The drinker will also hiccup tiny, harmless floating bubbles for five minutes.

VEIL OF MIDNIGHTA crystal-clear vodka cocktail with shifting black, shadowy swirls that never settle. Causes the drinker's shadow to detach and do whatever it wants for five minutes.

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

"It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes."

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white-capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray-hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with broken shells and torn seaweed, the glow of blue around it flickering like a dying flame. Beyond it, you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, its once-grand spiraling towers cracked and crumbling in places, encrusted with coral and debris from the destruction that came before. The streets are bustling, but an underlying tension lingers. Outside the bubble, merfolk swim, but some still bear the scars of battle, and the deep waters beyond are darker than they should be, as though something still lurks in the abyss. A sanctuary in the sea, one that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid in rebuilding what was lost. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you, the remnants of a catastrophe yet fully understood that bids you explore it.

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. However, signs of destruction mar the once-thriving marketplace. Some windows shattered, stalls bearing scorch marks, and a few buildings reduced to rubble. The scent of cooking food still lingers in the air, but so too does the acrid smell of smoldering wood. Watchful guards keep an even keener eye out for pickpockets and opportunists in the wake of the recent chaos. Citizens go about their day, some with a newfound wariness in their eyes.

From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring ships transport people and goods, though repairs are ongoing in some areas. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers, where efforts to rebuild have begun in earnest. The Hearthstill, the main residential area, bears the scars of collapsed roofs and damaged homes, with families working together to restore what was lost. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means, has been hit the hardest, and aid workers scramble to provide relief to the displaced.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble-covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you, buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, but some are marred by cracks, with scaffolding and patches where reconstruction has begun. The backdrop outside the dome is a deep blue, but lingering shadows in the depths hint at what once emerged from below. People with gills on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin move with a determined purpose, their curiosity toward newcomers now mixed with cautious wariness. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

SOLEMN CELEBRATIONS

After the chaos and destruction, the people of Caldera come together to express their gratitude to the Visitors, whose sacrifices were crucial in summoning Vesper, the newly awakened star god. This event, though filled with warmth and appreciation, carries the weight of what is still to come.

In Salt Spire, the bubbled underwater city, the heart of the celebration takes place. The bioluminescent glow of deep-sea creatures lights the festivities, their soft illumination casting a peaceful glow on the gathering, even through the haze of darkness beyond. Tables are laden with treasures from all three cities—gifts of wood and stone carvings from Grey Ward, textiles and plants from Salt Spire, and intricate glass orbs from Heaven’s Bow. It’s a moment of unity, as everyone, native and visitor alike, celebrates their survival and the hope Vesper now represents.

Above the sea, in Grey Ward, a quieter but equally heartfelt celebration takes place. The city, normally known for its steady hands at rebuilding, hosts a gathering of its people and the Visitors who have come through. Lanterns hang from the buildings, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets. Music from the land flows through the air; melodies of hope, of survival, of community. The people of Grey Ward offer their craftsmanship, beautiful wood carvings, practical tools, and heirlooms passed down through generations. Their gratitude runs deep, though they know the fight ahead will be long.

Heaven’s Bow, distant and high above the rest, holds its own subdued gathering. The people here are quieter in their celebration, reserved in their gratitude. Though they were not as directly involved in the summoning of Vesper, their support is evident in the delicate glass orbs they offer, each infused with starlight—a symbol of their unwavering faith. Their contribution may be less physical, but their presence and belief in the unity of Caldera is no less important.

In Salt Spire, the people raise their glasses high. "To those who fought to protect us," they toast, their voices rising in harmony. The people of Grey Ward join, their songs and music a reminder of the resilience of the land. Even Heaven’s Bow contributes with their delicate, glimmering orbs. The Visitors, new and old, are welcomed with open arms, gifted with tokens of appreciation. No one is excluded, for their presence, newly arrived or not, is valued deeply.

VESPER'S REQUEST

But, as the celebration continues, an undeniable presence looms at the edge of Salt Spire. Vesper, a massive, shadowy knight, the star god born of the Visitors’ sacrifices, stands apart from the merrymaking, watching quietly. His form, still flickering with the remnants of his connection to Triton’s darkness, is not yet fully settled. He speaks to the crowd, his voice calm, though tinged with the weight of what lies ahead.

"I was born of your sacrifices," Vesper says, his gaze sweeping over the Visitors. "I will not forget what you’ve given me. But our fight is not over. The darkness that birthed me still lingers, and Triton’s influence has not been erased. We must prepare. I will stand with you, when the time comes. And together, we will face what threatens this world."

The mood shifts slightly, a quiet understanding passing between the people. The celebration, while still joyful, carries the undercurrent of an impending storm. Triton’s return is inevitable, and though Vesper has emerged as a beacon of hope, his power is still growing. He will need the strength of those who summoned him, those who sacrificed for him, to confront the coming challenge.

As the night wears on and the festivities continue, the people of Caldera remain united in their shared resolve. The threat of Triton still hangs over them, but for now, they take this moment to honor the Visitors—those who sacrificed so much, and those who have only just joined the fight—and to strengthen the bonds that will be vital in the days to come.

Vesper welcomes conversation, yet it does not come naturally to him. His words are brief, precise—always tethered to his purpose, the reason for his existence. And therein lies his quiet concern: that something is missing. He yearns to connect, especially with the Visitors—the ones who gave of themselves so that he could become what he is now. A new star god. The light meant to stand against Triton’s encroaching darkness.

He speaks with certainty: he is the good that Triton once was, the lost brilliance of a god now twisted by corruption. But he does not wish to be merely a reflection of what once existed. He wants to grow beyond the shadow of the past, to forge an identity that is wholly his own. And so he seeks help—not only in understanding what he is but in becoming something more.

"Find memories," he says. "And craft new ones with me."

Memories of Triton’s past linger in the world, echoes trapped in places of significance. These must be sought out, for they hold the key to understanding Vesper’s origins.

SPECIAL QUEST: ASTRAL ECHOES

Vesper seeks the Astral Echoes, shards of violet light scattered across Caldera, each holding a fragment of Triton’s past. To understand himself and shape his future, Vesper asks the Visitors to retrieve them. This special quest will last the duration of the TDM, and will reward 400 Bones when turned in.

◾MEMORY ONE: THE DESCENT:

Near Salt Spire, a Violet Crystal Shard hums softly in an ancient ruin. When taken, it pulls the mind into a vision.

Triton falls, a streak of violet fire tearing through the sky to Caldera, a barren wasteland below. He crashes, sending stardust into the air, his form radiant with light, deep indigo skin marked with glowing lines, and eyes burning violet. He touches the earth, rivers of light spread, and the world begins to take shape.

But he is not alone. Aella, the sky, sweeps through the heavens, breathing life into the winds. Cordelia, the sea, shapes the waters and the depths. Terra, the land, molds the earth, forming mountains and valleys. And in the shadows, another lingers, a distant vision, hard to define, their presence felt but not fully understood. Together, they craft the new world.

"There will be law where there is chaos," Triton says. "Light where there is shadow. Justice where there is none."

The vision fades as the Violet Crystal Shard is given to Vesper. He holds it, feeling its pulse.

"He did not come to rule," Vesper murmurs, "He came to protect."

The shard dims, its purpose fulfilled. Yet its memory lingers, a quiet ember.

"Caldera was formless," Vesper whispers, "And they shaped it into something just."

He lifts his gaze, something stirring within him—understanding or perhaps the weight of his path ahead.

◾MEMORY TWO: THEM:

In a cave deep within Ignacia's Cradle, a faint Violet Crystal Shard pulses softly. When a Visitor holds it, they are pulled into a distant memory—one of doubt and rebellion.

The world is young, full of light and order. Triton stands with his companions—Aella, Cordelia, and Terra—shaping Caldera. But in the shadows, something stirs.

A figure, hard to define, stands apart. Their form flickers between light and darkness, their eyes filled with uncertainty.

"This world was meant for something more," they whisper, voice tinged with frustration. "Why does it feel so controlled?"

Triton watches them, sorrow in his eyes, but they step further into the shadows, their form dissolving, lost to doubt.

"Maybe it should burn," they murmur. "Maybe it should fall apart and rise again—wild."

The Violet Crystal Shard pulses as the figure vanishes into the darkness, leaving only the echo of Triton’s sorrow: "They were never meant to follow the order. They were always meant to fall into the shadows."

The memory fades, the figure still a mystery, their true nature lost in the shadows of the past.

◾MEMORY THREE: THE EXILE:

On the broken cliffsides near Grey Ward, a Violet Crystal Shard lies half-buried in the earth, its faint glow drawing the Visitor in. Upon touching it, a vision fills their mind—Triton stands, his form radiant with celestial light, yet his expression is one of deep sorrow and rage.

A shadowed figure, barely discernible, is ripped from the land. The figure’s volcanic home follows, both hurtling into the sky. The moon is born from their exile, the caldera formed in the center of the realm all that remains.

"You cannot do this," Triton’s voice shakes with grief. "They were meant to shape, not to be cast away."

The figure fades into the distance, and Triton’s grief transforms into fury. "They were not yours to remove," he says, the words heavy with loss.

As the vision fades, Vesper holds the shard, feeling the surge of sorrow deep within. He breathes in slowly, understanding the weight of Triton’s loss.

"I was not meant to be a reflection," Vesper murmurs. The echo of Triton’s voice lingers: "I should have protected them."

The memory settles into Vesper’s heart, shaping his resolve. The past will not bind him; he must grow beyond it.

◾MEMORY FOUR: THE LAST STAND:

At the foot of Cordelia's tower, the final Violet Crystal Shard rests upon the weathered steps. It lies half-hidden, barely visible to the eye, as if waiting for the right moment to be found. Only now, as the Visitors approach, does it reveal itself.

Triton stands before Cordelia, his violet glow dimming as his power fades. The air between them crackles with tension, and his voice trembles with disbelief:

"You would strike me down, Cordelia?"

Cordelia stands tall, her sorrow evident but her resolve unshaken. "You leave me no choice."

With a final, desperate lunge, Triton reaches for the stars—the same stars he had once shaped—but they remain silent, indifferent. Cordelia’s blade pierces his chest, the sound of shattering power filling the air as Triton’s body cracks into violet shards, scattering across the land.

His final words echo through the vision, filled with regret: "Was I wrong?"

The vision fades, and Vesper stands on the steps, his hand still holding the shard. The weight of Triton’s question lingers, heavy in the silence.

Vesper’s breath catches, the sorrow of the moment settling deep within him. "He was more than just a fallen god," he whispers, his gaze searching. "He was a part of this world—his doubt, his pain. And it shapes me now."

The shard pulses one last time, and Vesper knows this memory is not just a reflection of the past—it is a part of his own journey, one that will lead him to forge his own path.

CHOOSE [HIS] DESTINY

When all shards are given to Vesper, he stands in silence, the weight of Triton’s past pressing upon him. Then, he speaks:

"I was born from a fractured god. But I am not him. The past shapes me, but it does not define me. So I ask you—what will I become?"

Visitors may influence his choice:

◾Option 1: Embody Triton’s Lost Virtues

Vesper embraces Triton’s virtues of justice, wisdom, and light, becoming a beacon of hope for Caldera. This choice grants him the strength of a god, with a deep understanding of the weight of justice. He will fight against the corruption Triton once embodied, drawing on the wisdom of the past to prevent its recurrence. "By standing for what is just, I will be ready to fight against what Triton has become."

Option 2: Forge a New Path

Vesper rejects the past, creating his own identity free from Triton’s shadow. This choice grants him freedom and strength, allowing him to reinvent himself as a new kind of star god. He will fight against Triton’s darkness, symbolizing the triumph of free will over legacy, and gaining the power to face both external and internal battles.

"I will not be a shadow of what came before. I will become something stronger."

Option 3: Balance Light and Shadow

Vesper accepts both the brilliance and downfall of Triton, walking the path of balance. This choice gives him the strength to wield both light and shadow, allowing him to understand Triton’s corruption and fight it from within. Vesper’s knowledge of both sides of existence will make him resilient in his battle against Triton’s darkness.

"I will fight with the strength of both light and shadow, knowing each part of me is necessary to stand against the darkness."

Once the Visitors make their choice, Vesper will stand in silence, the decision settling within him. He is no longer just the fractured god he once was, but something whole—ready for the battle ahead. Triton’s darkness still threatens Caldera, but Vesper is stronger, more prepared, and more determined.

"Thank you," he will say. "With your help, I’ve chosen my path. When the time comes to face Triton, I will bring the light he lost—or create something new to stop his darkness."

[With Vesper's awakening, shadow abilities have been unlocked for the Undine faction]

QUESTBOARD

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's sixth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

To Choose Vesper's Path, please state which option you would like to choose here. prospective players are encouraged to weigh in!

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

The following pages have been updated:

◾Additional rewards have been added under the Undine section of the rewards page.

◾Vesper has been added to the NPC page.

Have fun, Visitors!

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Leadership without communication is not leadership. If she were doing so, it would give the people hope and the knowledge they were cared about, to be told that. They would excuse much, for that hope." Hope is something that is very hard to extinguish, once lit. But there had been very little hope lit here, especially by the faction leaders.

Calgar, their chapter master, had come to their aid when they had needed him. That the faction leader had led her people die, lose everything, without even helping in the aftermath, not even providing a free meal for the refugees was a poor comparison.

Sure, not everyone could be Marneus Calgar. But the faction leaders were lacking.

To be entirely fair, Hecate had at least come to her and her family's aid when it counted. She was the only reason Melinoë was there at all, and not trapped with the rest of her family. She had hope and confidence enough she would defeat Chronos and find her way to them; to free them, so maybe he had a point that Cordelia had not offered anything even remotely close to it for the people here.

"What of the other leaders? Do they not know of her plans?"

"I cannot say. They are all distant. We have to pay for the privilege of speaking with them, and even then, they apparently answer in riddles." His mouth tugged down at the corners. "They expect our obedience, our loyalty, but base it on our desperation."

Melinoë placed the violet shard in the small pouch on her hip and continued out of the ruins, the ghostly, skeletal hand to her left brushing along the stone, outlining cracks and wondering just what the whole structure may have looked like before the calamity that struck it.

"They offer us boons." She said after a moment. "As a bribe, perhaps? They seemed beneficial, those that I read of. Not unlike the ones I receive from Olympus."

"They steal our abilities and offer to sell ourselves back to us." Explain to him how that is 'just' and 'right' and virtuous. "And the sorcery they sell us merely further corrupts our souls." Whoops no, don't get him talking about corruption. For your own sanity.

See, that's what he was talking about. "And what were those?" He was idly pacing along beside her, as she studied the ruins of what had once been somebody's home.

"Corrupts our souls?" Sorry, she had to ask. That seemed like an important detail she couldn't really overlook?

They needed to go up for the next shard, towards the volcano, supposedly. She was just sort of wandering vaguely in the direction of the undersea docks, hoping for a way up.

"Gifts from the gods that reside above the surface, my extended family." She explained. "Crushing waves from Poseidon, charms from Aphrodite, cruel winter's kiss from Demeter." So on and so forth. "They aid me in my quest to slay Chronos, the god of Time. My grandfather."

Welp, now she's probably done it. "My soul, at any rate." See, everyone? Gadriel has learned the lesson. Not every world is like his. But he does insist that his world is like his and is not going to let people gaslight him about that part anymore.

"And why would they burden you with sorcery, instead of doing the task themselves?" He could not imagine being asked to kill his Primarch. Such a thought was heresy. No good source could demand it.

"And why your soul?" The question remained.

She shook her head. "No burden — a boon to aid me in my quest. My duty. He took my family not long after I was born, and I am tasked to slay him and free them. He is beseiging Mount Olympus with undead hordes, and they can only offer so much while I venture into the Underworld." She frowned. "Time stands still here, I suppose. I will return when I am able."

"Because that is the function of sorcery in my world." To corrupt the souls of the innocent and pure. And no, xenocide didn't count.

"And did you choose this, or was it chosen for you?" He had chosen, at least once, but knowing that the choosing also chose everything that came after it: the aspirancy, the surgeries, the neophyte years. All of it, he had chosen, because he could endure. And because he was fleeing the blight on his family's name.

"They say it does. They say we return at the moment we are taken. But none can control when."

"And the corruption will follow you?"

The question was... difficult to answer. More so than she thought it would be. "I was saved and trained for this. It is my duty, my purpose. It is what I was meant to do." She chose to continue, but she was chosen, in the end, with no other option. She was just a child when Hecate saved her, and it was Hecate that made her a titan slayer.

"How long have you been here?"

"It will be sensed in my world, and the daemons will take advantage of it. Like a flaw in a Geller field." Except the flaw would be him, localized, and all the forces of Hell tearing their way out of his body in one big rush.

"But did you choose it." Because that sounded like coercion. He had no idea why it mattered so much to him. But it did. Enduring suffering because you chose to is different than because you had to.

"Too long. Long enough to fall into corruption."

"I choose every night to venture into the Underworld to slay Chronos. So, yes." She chose that, day after day after day, to fail, to die and return to do it all over again. She made that choice.

"I'm sorry. There is no way to cleanse it?"

"All right, then." That settled it in his mind. One made a choice, and one follows the sequelae of that choice. He was a little confused, because earlier she had said something that made it sound like she did not care for these boons from Olympus, but that must have been him, misunderstanding again.

"And you go alone. No support." If he went and failed every mission, every day, there would be some serious rethinking of doctrine at the command center, at the very least. Repeating what doesn't work, over and over, was foolishness. Unworthy command.

"If I did penance enough, perhaps." He shrugged. "But no one here is qualified to shrive me, so it is immaterial."

He had misunderstood, but that was fine. It was an odd situation many would not understand and might even write off as madness.

"Physically, unless I take a familiar with me, I am alone. My support comes from the boons offered by Olympus, as well as incantations myself and the Headmistress have concocted."

Nearing the docks now, to head up to the surface. "What qualifications are required?"

It was why he had not spoken aloud. He'd had too many people here assume about how his world worked, when he had only explained badly.

"And it has occurred to no one that that approach is obviously ineffective." Sorry, he can't help but comment on that. Waste of resources. Waste of effort. Waste of suffering, because it was clear that failing every night on one's sworn mission took a toll.

"A chaplain or a member of the Inquisition." At this point, probably the latter. "I have sinned greatly without my brothers to support me."

"It is effective. I get closer and closer every night. As an Unseen, he cannot find me while I disrupt his hold on the Underworld. I will slay him and I will free my family, even if I must die a thousand times more."

Well. Die. Reset. Same thing really. "It is the surface that eludes me. There, I barely have a chance to fight before it saps the life from me."

She frowned. "That is unfortunate. There are no equivalents here? And no spell would suffice, I suppose, given magic is what corrupted you to start."

"That is noble, then." Because otherwise it sounded like needless futility. He presumes the dying is a noble oath, and not a reality. Even Astartes only die, well, twice.

"Why does the surface harm you? Is it happening here?" Which is, well, the surface.

"I have tried, unfortunately, to find alternatives. It has been...disastrous." Which was why he was now only trusting his armor, depowered and truculent.

"The Chthonic curse of my bloodline. I am bound to the Underworld and not meant for the surface. There is an incantation to counter it — but I do not seem to need it here. I haven't been harmed yet." Which was odd, but she wasn't complaining.

She looked him up and down. "I can help you, if you like. Search for means you might not consider."

Ah. Sorcery. Of course. Just like in his world it seems sorcery harms the ones it claims. Like the way the followers of Tzeentch always eventually find themselves changing, their bodies eaten away into the bird forms of the Changer.

"Perhaps this place has freed you from that." It would be a first in Gadriel's experience here. But not impossible. "Or maybe they took it with the rest of your sorcery." That? That he would believe.

"You are welcome to try. I cannot get any more cursed." That's the spirit.

"Perhaps. If they wish for my help, hopefully they do not return the curse along with the rest of my abilities when I reclaim them. Otherwise I may be bound to Salt Spire... if that." Still seemed a little too close to the surface, but she didn't know the world well enough to judge that.

"I will do what I can. I need to study the flora here and see what there is to work with, as well as the magic. There may be a way to remove it from you. There usually is."

"There are other sorcerers here ," and yes it physically hurts to say this and always will, "who could help if they did. We captives must take care of each other." Throne knew, no one else would. The civilians were helpless. Their captors, well. He was unimpressed.

"Your first concern should be your own situation. My situation is not urgent."

"I will have to seek them out, once we are done here." And their talk had brought them up to the docks of Grey Ward, the volcano where their next shard lay set against the horizon. Melinoë was still awed by how easily she walked upon the earth.

"It will give me a goal, where I have none currently. Chronos is not here, and I cannot reach him. Seeking the means to aid in breaking corruption does not seem like a waste of time." And she could explore other avenues for herself while she was at it.

"There is normally an event--a mingle--" stupid name for it but he didn't name it, "every few weeks. You can easily meet some there." No major effort required. "If you feel like socializing."

"There are more important goals, such as the safety of the people here." And her own. He followed her up the path toward the volcano. There were creatures here that might attack, or at least peek out to see them, and Gadriel was a little curious what their reaction might be to her. "What is best for many should outweigh what is best for the individual."

Good to know. She did not mind socializing — although it had been some time since she spoke to anyone not loitering in the Underworld, the Crossroads or Olympus.

"You cannot dictate what I concern myself with. I must find the means to work my magic here regardless." She replied. Fiery footsteps seemed less odd here along the rim of Ignacia's Cradle. A salamander was the first to make its appearance, and Melinoë actually stopped, smiled, and waved to it. "How cute."

She would do well at the mingle, he was sure. Gadriel only shows up to set the bar of social interaction low so everyone feels more well-adjusted than at least SOMEONE.

"I--I wasn't trying to?" It was time, Gadriel realized, for him to keep his mouth shut. Just like with Imogen, he thought he was saying something innocuous but it was being taken as a slight.

"Probably also edible." Case in point: why does everyone think Gadriel is weird? This right here.

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