February 21st:

Zeiss thinks for a long time before he turns to the others and says :

"I'm leaving for Holtburg to set trade routes for the Exchange. I will take my bodyguards with me and leave Oghren and the archweaver here. Do whatever you want with the airship."

He looks at Fierneceal and Snarg.

"Can you open the sealed door for me?"

"If that's what you really want," Snarg says, sighing heavily, "come on if you want out of this." Moving towards the door, he makes a beckoning motion at Zeiss. "I'll be back in a minute," he informs everyone before turning and leaving out through the door.

Zeiss nods at Snarg and follows him. When they get outside the ruins, he turns towards Snarg, observes him, then simply says :

"Thank you for what you did for me."

He leaves towards the inn, planning to get his bodyguards, his horse and the wagon which he just bought yesterday. He doesn't forget to get to the other wagon to get his refrigerator, transfer it into the other wagon, then departs.

To Arch.:

*Z grumbles something under her breath after Zeiss and Snargle leave the room*

Rory sighed exasperatedly as Zeiss left. "Just forget about what's going on, why don't you," he mumbled as he left his comfortable chair to talk to the machine directly.

"Listen, I'm sure you already know about the devices in these ruins that turn people into Tuskers. We've got a lot on our plate, and we'd appreciate it if at least one servant of the Eleven could deal with this problem, especially since you're immune to it."

"Er, right," Snarg says uncomfortably, "here, take this." Digging in to his pack, he draws out a whistle and digs his nail it to it several times, testing out its changing pitch as he modifies it. Seemingly satisfied after several attempts, he hands it over to Zeiss. "That's my tribe's signal. Just in case. Don't wear it out or Gnawbone'll yell at you."

Zeiss takes the whistles, nods one last time, then leaves.

Snarg turns around immediately and proceeds back inside, closing the door as he goes, and rejoins the rest of the party in the meeting.

Prior to Snarg's Return:

"Processing."  There's a bit of a pause, and for the first time those present hear a new tone in the creature's voice; admiration.  "Genius... sheer genius.  Mad genius... what kind of thought would create such a device?!  It alters at the soul level--" the Tumideon rambles on about the specifics of how the Tusker Mines work for a bit, clearly enthralled at their construction.

"I don't wish to be rude but it mutilates people on the soul level and turns them into living weapons. That's not genius, it's sick. Please stop talking about it for now, Strawman." Kolson looks a bit queezy at the thought of the Tusker transformation and its implications.

"Would it be alright if I came along, Fier? I agree with Zeiss that we have responsibilities here on the main land, but this mission sounds pretty important. And since Zeiss will be here to handle things, I don't see why I can't go." He squeezes Tia's hand in silent apology. He knew how much she hated him being in danger but he knew she'd understand.

Tia speaks up for the first time, saying to Fier, "I'm sorry to be so dense, but how do you plan on getting to this Aphus Lassel? Will you be taking the Airship? I was hoping to study it."

She begins fidgeting with her hands, uncomfortable interrupting strangers during such important events.

"Oh no, I was going to ask that for a ride first."  She pokes in the direction of the Tumideon who has ceased his dissertation.  "Then I was going to go hijack a ship and force it in the general direction.  I am in a bit of a hurry after all."  She gives a faintly sad grin.

The Tumideon twitches.  "Responding to prior query: Removal of Class-5 Soul Altercation Devices authorized.  Planetary-scale alteration unacceptable.  Sotiris will be present shortly to remove for study then disposal."  Another pause.  "The Fierneceal unit and Kolson units are designated sufficiently aligned with Eleven goals to allow Portalspace translation."

Snarg walks back in again a few minutes later, now alone. "Well, that's that. He's off."

"Well..." Rory looked down for a moment. When he lifted his face, resignation and acceptance echoed in his eyes and his tone. "I don't have any business to take care of, and I'm already packed. Any time you wanna go, we'll go."

"This is too important not to deal with right now. I'll come along with you if you'll let me, Fiernaceal, but I've got to make sure these refugees get some help first. Is anyone not coming? If not, I'd ask you to take care of the folks outside using what we've got left in this room."

Fierneceal looks distant for a moment.  "Other then letting refugees in here by the ... hundreds?  Thousands?  What could we do for them, what are we going to do for them?"

"At the very least use this room on the people who got smashed by the wave. I know we can't help all of them, but there's no use letting all this energy go to waste when there's some people outside who need help."

"Well, the question becomes how do we let hundreds of people in and keep them contained so they don't see things they shouldn't, and ... how do we explain what this is to them, and why they've never seen a place like this before nor will again?"  She frowns.  "Dammit.  Even ignoring the bloody airship just letting them in to this room at all is risky."

"But what's the alternative? Just let anyone who's bleeding out just lay there? Even if the white mages had mana to help them, they couldn't help even a faction of them. You know there's nowhere for them to go. I don't see how we can turn them away when we have this here. Once the Eleven has the Tusker devices cleared out, if you're worried about them wandering off, it seems that we can direct the paths now that this place has power. Maybe we could just tell it to make a path to here and seal off the rest."

"You just can't see the forest through the trees, can you?" Rory snapped. "Even if we bring them one day of comfort and they can last another week or so because of it, it's only temporary! Let hundreds suffer now so millions later can live, that's our choice, and one number is bigger than the other!"

He shook his head. "I don't know what worries me more," he muttered aside to Fierneceal, "bringing him with us, or letting him stay here."

"What?!? I'm talking about people on the ground, outside right now. They could take care of themselves if they weren't rolling around and dying after taking a shockwave from a ley line! All I'm asking is for more to live, but no one seems to care about the 'uncivilized' outside, oh noooo! I don't even know why you even have a problem with this! If I'm going to have to do this myself, because no one else wants to, then that's what I'll do!"

"To hell with that! If we save them now, Aluvia will get tangled up in it and more will die! More, not less!" Rory yelled, squaring up with the Gnoll. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure Aluvia stays uninvolved!"

"You thick-headed rock kisser! You don't even know that!" Snarg takes a quick step backwards and draws out his greatsword, holding it fully defensively in front of him. "So you're just going to fight me? I didn't see it before, but now I think I do a bit more clearly! You're acting just like me in the trial when I thought the ends justified the means! That didn't bring any good at all! We can help everyone, I know we can, but all you seem to want to do is fight about it!"

Rory reached for his axe. "You're damn right I do," he retorted, "because everyone's already tried to talk you down, and it didn't work. You got a heart of gold, but you don't have the balls to do the hard thing!"

"Would you two both back the frell down right now before I send you into a coma as a Tusker and you against the wall with a migraine!"  Fierneceal is on her feet, positively livid.  Her hands are out, crackling with some odd energy, but before she can say anymore there's a small chittering of straw.

The Tumideon, which had left earlier amidst the arguing, walks back into the room almost casually.  "Mines disposed of."  There is a pause as it considers how best to convey its message.  "This is why the Eleven do not grant you direct aid.  You lack capacity to discontinue unnecessary conflict even amongst one's own selves."

"Fine! Fine! If that's what it takes!" Snarg gives a final growl and shoves his greatsword back in to its holster. "I'm washing my hands of the dead outside!" He spits on to his hands, rubs them together, then flings the remaining spittle to the floor.