Elegy for the puppets [Satu]

[Tarot]

The god nodded amidst the destruction and mayhem. "Yes, brutal and selfish and ungrateful, for the most part at least. They are built this way to survive, but they can never thrive. No sooner one builds something, that his neighbor will want it for himself. Everyone looking for a place in the sun, they shroud in their own shadows. But we can change that, Satu! It may not happen today, or tomorrow, but it definitely will, in time." It was hard to tell who was winning the battle, but already the frontal charge had exhausted its initial power and the fight had gotten close and personal. To Satu, however, it just looked like more of the same. The air around the Konti started glowing with the same light that had brought her the vision, and within seconds she was transported back to the present. The familiar landscape of the Wildlands was a stark contrast to the vision. The world seemed so empty now. One had to wonder if the whole of Mizahar had as many people in it as the battlefield of old. "You have much to consider from today's events," said Sagallius, "and I am taking my leave for now. I will check on you every now and then, drop by to say hello, that kind of things." The god turned around and started walking away from her. "I have high expectations for you, Satu. Now that you have finally found your Call, your soul can shine through and become a beacon for others to follow." As he spoke, the god's figure quickly faded out of reality, depriving Satu of her new patron deity. Alone with the Satu-doll and without Sagallius' divine presence the place felt even more desolate and abandoned. The doll crouched, acting all submissive around the Konti. It would not speak unless questioned, or take any kind of action without permission. It was "free" in slavery, after all. It sure beat being buried in the wet earth of the Wildlands. Night would fall soon, and Satu would have to make camp, here or somewhere. OOCI think this thread is almost done. Satu can assume she has learned to cut the strings with her suvai. Unless you want to interact with the doll more, we can continue the quest for the Crone in a new thread, time and location of your choosing.

[Satu]

The world was empty once again; Sagallius had disappeared but the lines on the back of her hand, the precious gift of Cordas were still there. Looking at the surrounding landscape, the vision was still fresh in her mind. They were there, the men dying with raised weapons, bloody and mangled. The ground swelled with the dead. She turned around once to see, but then they were also gone. She was alone and alone, though their brutal actions had seeped into the landscape, and the soil around her. “Can you feel it? Where they were? It weighs on me still,” she told the doll. “We will stay here this night, so we will remember always.” Then we can change them… and they will be better for it! It was cold, and Satu hugged her arms around her lithe frame, feeling the wetness of her clothes. Resigned, the two Satu’s set up camp, near the grave. The nearness bothered her not, for had they not risen from it already? There was nothing to fear; only dark clods of earth clung to their hair and nails. And when it was time for sleep, Satu instructed the doll to lie with her upon the bedroll. They faced one another, like looking into like. Satu brushed the matching snow colored hair from its face, as she tried to see within its lifeless eyes, blue as Laviku’s waters. So smooth was the doll’s porcelain face, but for the crack in it. “I am sorry for this,” she whispered, tracing her finger along the break. Her fingers continued to move lightly over the curve of cheek and chin, as lovingly the Cordas strings attached. She knew the doll was not real, but it was no longer important. There was only the need she felt, overriding everything! Drainira was not alive either, but she certainly felt real to the Konti. “I have been alone for too long,” she explained. How long had it been since she had a proper companion? One who understood her? Everyone had left, they were all gone. Was she destined to be alone? No longer! The HeartSeer had the doll, though its arms were limp and woodenly relaxed, until the Konti played Sagallius’ strings, then the doll’s arms lifted to embrace her. The HeartSeer snuggled closer, for in her mind, there was no difference between the golem and life. Was it enough for the HeartSeer? No, but the Konti did not know that as she leaned closer, her smooth forehead touching the dolls. Satu purred, “No one knows me like you…” as her hands began to play the Cordas strings in a wholly unique way. When the Konti awoke it was to the sun in her eyes, and her limbs entwined with the golems. She stretch luxuriously and patted the doll’s wooden leg happily. The fact that it was still lifeless was only a small, insignificant detail to the Konti. Satu slipped on the doll’s flouncy, white dress over her own head, and tried to smooth its lacey ruffles dotted with dirt streaks and grass stains. Smiling, she handed the doll an old dress to slip on. Satu was almost giddy, as she told the doll, “Come! Let us break camp! Our new journey begins today! We have lives to save…” as she squeezed the doll’s matching hand within her own, before she turned to lead them away.

[Tarot]

Skills: +5 Puppeteering +3 Leadership +2 Interrogation +2 Unarmed Combat +2 Brawling Lore: Seeing your own grave, subduing the weaker, the meaning of freedom, Sagallius, Cordas, the dance of the puppet, the Crone, visions of ancient wars, hugging a life-sized replica of yourself to sleep, becoming a zealot. Other: A gnosis mark from Sagallius. Storyteller Secrets: updated. Comments: Great thread even though it was mostly exposition. The real fun begins now. Let me know when and where you'd like to start your search for the Crone.