Wednesday, November 23, 2011

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 15


Arrogant, blind, self-righteous, psychopathic…

All part of a long list of words I’d use to describe Vayu ever since our meeting, ever since I learned how he tore me from my family.  I’d always wondered if they applied to the rest of his accursed pantheon, but hoped they did not.  The tales of the Yazata portray Vayu as different from the rest of them.  I’d hoped there was truth to that, but suspected it was too much to hope for.  It was said long ago that you have to prepare for the worst.

And now this…Altair, has only proven my suspicions.  He was content to play judge, jury, and executioner; to condemn Cindy simply because she’d fallen victim to Utgard-Loki.  The revelation seemed to break her, make her give in to despair, give up on herself.

By the gnawed root of Yggdragsil, I told Andrew she needed to know.

She’d have surrendered herself to him, too, spare the rest of us from a foe we couldn’t hope to defeat.  But as difficult as she can be, I simply cannot let an ally deliver herself to her doom in such a manner.  So I stopped her.  A powerful warrior she may be, but her specialty is the axe.  She knew not the intricacies of hand to hand combat necessary to break away from me.  Though her struggles cost me precious seconds.

But preventing Cindy from resigning herself to her destruction was only one thing that had to be done.  Altair till presented an overwhelming threat to the rest of the band.  So I left.  Psychopaths can be terribly predictable at times. And as the winds bore me through the window to the city beyond, he all but tore half the Inn apart in pursuit.

Then I used the one, slight, advantage available to me.  His affinity was with the Eagle, mine the sky itself.  Whereas he head to ride the currents of the wind I called to them and they aided me.  Where he had a wingspan in excess of his height I had no such worry.  I knew it wouldn’t be much of an obstacle to one of his physical prowess.  But outgunned as I was there was little choice but to grasp at every scrap of advantage I could.  So I kept to tight confines, where his wingspan would be a hindrance.  I kept obstacles between us and cover overhead to force him to stay below the level of the buildings in pursuit.  I read the winds and chose the path that would give him the most difficulty I could manage.

He was still on me before I could escape the limits of the city.  I went straight up as the beginning of a last ditch attempt.  Forcing him to generate the lift needed to pursue out of raw power would buy a few precious seconds before I was forced to do something truly desperate.  But even if the Valkyries did not find my death worthy of Valhalla I would be destined for the Halls of my Mother.  Neither may be a trip I’m eager to make, but they’re ones that I can live with.  If I’d forsaken an ally, if I hadn’t stayed true to myself…I’d have never been able to live with that.

Death before the betrayal of my principles, knowing I’d done everything I could.  I was ready for it.

But Manannan Mac Lir heard his Daughter’s call, and himself arrived on the scene.  When Altair’s pursuit suddenly vanished I turned my gaze downward and saw two of him astride the horses he’s known for.  One with Claire, talking with Altair.  The other with Ken and Lexi, some distance away.  My choice of destination was clear; Cindy was getting no closer to the Yazata bastard than was necessary.

Then Manannan whisked us away from that accursed city.  He brought us to Dublin, to safety, however temporary.

But even though he brought me to safety, it has not brought peace.  Altair’s voice rang across the valley before we left; condemning me for my “crimes,” claiming their visions would haunt me in the nights to come.  Typical Yazata bullshit.  I committed no crimes by saving an ally from his clutches; no Dark Virtues lurk in my soul.

Yet he was not speaking just to hear the sound of his voice.  The whispers, visions, unease; they creep in during every idle moment.  They attempt to force his twisted views of the matter upon my very psyche.  It’s a relentless barrage that offers not a moment’s respite.  I know I did the right thing…yet, the visions do not relent, Ken’s disapproval was clear to see, the constant urban press of this city is suffocating.

I need to escape it, not abandon it entirely…but I saw cliffs overlooking the sea nearby.  I will seek the refuge of stone, wind, and water.  Perhaps the elements themselves can provide the balm I so desperately need.

By the gardens of Idunn, I hope so.

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