Zebedev is slowly regaining consciousness as he hears the party talking in his head. A good shake or a slap could probably wake him up at this point (hint hint Olaf).
"Hmmm, this certainly is an interesting turn of events!" says Olaf, witnessing the dimensional transformation and hearing the strange voice inside his head. "I don't have any reason to doubt your claims that we have unlimited time, but I don't feel comfortable chatting away knowing our enemies, with guns bigger than ourselves, are in the other room. Let's get out of here before we become their evening snack!" "I guess we should pick this guy up, even though he's a politician I would feel bad about leaving him to die." He lifts Zebedev upright. "Anyone want to punch a politician while they can? a little bump won't kill him. Might help him, even!"
One last thing to say to the group: I know you are not comfortable with me in your heads. But I communicate this way. And I am doing this quite openly. Some of you still have fears about one-another. I know it. I cannot eliminate your fears, but I can help you to see that at least one of us will always recognize if any of us should even for a moment think of betraying the rest. Some of you have eyelids and can stop seeing for a time. I do not, and cannot. And my sight is augmented by my mind. My mind sees your thoughts all the time. You can either waste all your energy fighting me for no benefit, or relax and try to help us all out of this mess we are in. I let you guys all know what my powers are. Some of you would have hidden this. You all know how I came to be here. It was not a choice I made. It was just something that happened. Stop being upset at me. I did nothing wrong. As for me, I am going to try to get out of here as fast as possible. Alright, since people are not comfortable with this yet, I break the "Fast As Thought" mode and start moving out of the area where I already know Flingy is going to lob fiery death at the giants.
That was... unsettling. Very unsettling. As he continued to prepare his arsenal for the ensuing "battle", Oleandre's thoughts wandered. He knows. He knows and is telling others in a subtle way that he does. This man can not be trusted, and he can not continue to be there. This is not a chance that can be void by someone like that. And his power... If he really is the way he declared himself to be, if he really can read our thoughts all the time... Does that mean he also knows how to bypass Oleandre's mental defences? But it did not matter, for now. After he got out of there, if he got out of there, he would have to do something about it. But right now, getting through this mess alive was much more important. When he finished taking out the number of fiery vials he considered to be "enough", Oleandre took more vials out of his pouch and one by one, gently slid them by the ground into every area of the room, making sure that not even one of them would break. He was pretty certain that he did not have much time to do anything after that, so as soon as he finished, he fell into a wild run towards the doors his "companions" left through.
Time to switch things up. Everyone retreats through the door toward the tree-ladder. Olaf slams the door shut, and Ililani bursts forth a song that creates a translucent brick wall over the door. A split-second later, the last vial that Oleandre had thrown up high into the air comes crashing down, and there's a huge rush of air moving under the door. It continues for several moments, and the door glows red hot. Several screams are cut short. The floor underneath the door begins to melt, forcing everyone to back away. Suddenly, a second massive WHUMP! sounds, and the floor begins to slag in earnest. Everyone retreats up the ladder, only to see the land itself in about a two-block radius slumping horribly inward. The cave-in expands rapidly, and nothing short of lava bubbles up in the middle. You run for a block or so, with the land still slagging inward behind you and a horrible noise starting to come from the middle of the sinkhole. From a nearby-ish tree, a lab-coated giant with a notepad leaps down and screams at the top of his lungs. "OH, GOD, NO!!!! THE GEO-CORE! IT'S GONNA BLOW!!!!!" ...and a moment later, everything goes white. ... ... ...then turns black. ... ... ...then turns to stone. A pair of massive draconic eyes opens up above the group, and shining white teeth glimmer in the darkness. One of Danickdave's heads speaks. You fixed it. How the fuck did you manage that? Another head's voice echoes from nearby. They didn't mean to. They just fucked it up so hard it's broken part broke. The first head replies. Whatever. They did the job. Let's see if they can do it again. As the dragon's paw becomes visible and starts making arcane gestures, you have a moment to ask questions if you can think of any. You recognize the dragon's gesture -- he's about to send you into another realm. So hurry up and talk if you dare.
Oleandre stares at the dragon that appeared before him, or at least in its general direction. His eyes empty and his thoughts wandering, it took some time for the implication of what happened to sink in. "I... just... I... what the hell... I didn't mean to do that..." He killed them all, hasn't he? And now he'll have to do the same thing again. It was almost surreal how even the ability to destroy and kill could prove itself to be a valuable asset. In the near future, he'd only have to extend it to the mind-reader, just to be on the safe side. But there was one thing he had to do now, one thing he had to ask the dragons about. "Answer me! What is it that we are supposed to be fixing?! And for what gain?!"
Danickdave looks down and blinks in surprise. Oh, hey, yeah. That. Look, we made a whole bunch of miniature worlds, and they're supposed to be more or less alike. Except that every one of them got screwed up somehow. That last one, for example, the giants weren't supposed to learn science. All the worlds are supposed to be basically like the ones you're used to. You know. Feudalism, a few central churches, magic on the outskirts, cities are centers of rotting depravity. Like yours -- except yours got screwed up because that fucker Dredmor managed to use powers even older and weirder than us to connect his Dungeon to a million worlds all at once. You managed to fix your worlds, so you've got some sort of...I don't know, karma, I guess. We're just exploiting that to see if you can fix more of them. And to be perfectly blunt, you six...well, you seemed like the ones that just got lucky rather than, you know, having a really noticeable desire to fix things. And while you probably don't understand why, that's actually a GOOD thing, because it means that if we put all of your luck in one place, you might just be able to fix the few dozen worlds that are so broken that the normal hero-types don't stand a chance of pulling it off -- you know, because they might HESITATE to kill off an entire race of sentient beings. Hahahahahahahahaha--sorry. The dragon re-commences his gesturing.
Can you tell us whom we oppose for our next venture? Last time took extra long since we had no idea what we were doing. You can likely shorten that by quite a bit if you can give us even a brief summary of the actual locations we are about to visit. And aside from that, can you please tell these guys that I am the same being that they went there with? I know I have changed. But it was not my plan. None of them trust me at the moment. I fear they will resort to petty infighting if we cannot get some basis of normality established. Just to give you a taste of their dislike for me, I will again demonstrate my power. (Starts Fast_As_Thought mode with everyone, including all of Danickdave's heads. Note that I have yet to open my mouth. I do not speak with my mouth.)
Danickdave eyeballs Gettout. Yeah. Same being, different dimension...probably bound to happen at some point given his former self's instability. He's just like the rest of your guys,really -- he wants to survive, get rich, get laid...and he'd like to do it without just telling everyone to give him money and sex. I've already cut him a break -- I could have left him behind. Anyway, I don't want to tell you too much about the world's you're going to get into, because a little knowledge is the best way to fuck up a good lucky streak. But I'll tell you this -- this next world the problem is looking up. In more than one sense of the phrase. That oughtta confuse your mortal brains just enough that you'll figure it out a hair's breadth too late. Oh, also, this world has lots of magic in it. Like, lots. Be careful. Even the squirrels cast spells. Anything else, since Blue has elected to give you plenty of time before I finish this swipe of my paw?
"I was kind of wondering how many of these places we're gonna have to schlep through." Billy lights a cigar as he processes the rapid unfolding of events. A deep pull of aromatic smoke makes keeping up with it all seem a little easier, although talking in his mind is still a bit unsettling at least he can be understood better. "Not that I've got anything pressing at home, mind you, but I didn't really sign up to play world clean-up for a mighty dragon, you know? I just wanna know how long a haul I'm in for."
Danickdave grins down at Billy. Well, we've got more than a few thousand worlds to clean up, but we've also got several hundred groups of heroes working on most of them. I'd say maybe seven. Of course, if you turn out to be real good at it, we may toss you an extra. Question is, what do you guys want when it's all over? Think about that. We can give you almost anything you can imagine -- literally, a world of your own, if you live long enough. Granted, I don't know that we >will, but we can, and we might.
Zebedev is incredibly groggy, considering he was transported before he could fully wake up from the tranq dart. "Hello fellows, what did I-" He notices Danickdave. "My my my my my... We're back here?" He hears his party talking in his head, and starts to panic subtly (only visible indication is a minor twitch on one eye). Oh lord, he thinks, this isn't good at all. I can't let them get inside my head like this, else I'll- He stops himself before he goes any farther, realizing that they might be able to hear this. "Well then, it appears that we'll be doing some traveling. Any chance we could go to a place where the people are actually able to be reasoned with?" He hopes Danickdave gets what he means by "reasoned with".
Oh, I think you'll find your skills will be most useful. Danickdave looks at the rest of the group. The only one I'm worried about in this next place is the lumberjack. There are lots of very tall things to cut down, but they probably shouldn't be.
"I don't have to cut it down because it's taller than me, I just want to," Billy says grumpily. "I can restrain myself."
Good. Then if there's nothing else... Danickdave finally finishes his gesture, and everything turns white again, then black again, and then suddenly you're standing in what looks at first like an old Greek or Roman superstructure -- then, when you look up, you see that the pillars don't seem to stop. They stretch so far into the sky that the point where they meet is a mere speck. There's also several hundred of them arranged in more-or-less a circle. Around them is what looks like a mostly normal city. The center-of-rotting-depravity kind. Almost as soon as you can take this in, a somewhat alarmed voice says "HALT. You are in a restricted area. Please proceed immediately out of the Sigil Zone." You glance over to see a very nervous-looking city guard type with a halberd in his hand and a crossbow across his back. He looks like he's used to trouble, and he's worried about what kind of trouble you'll be.
I tell the guard we are a bit confused and lost. I ask him where exactly we should go. And I examine his mind for details pertaining to those specific things first. If there is something he is thinking of specifically, I pay attention to that. But I attempt to play fair and not delve too deep until I determine if he is a friend or foe. (I do not want to interrogate him just to learn he has a defense against me or that he is a friend who would actually help if we are kind. Presuming I find where he wants us to go, I tell the others telepathically so we do not have to speak about it.)
Oleandre did not like talking to city guards. In general, trying to talk with "law enforcers" - there was always a risk of either telling them too much or telling them too little, and thus making one of the sides, whether it was the underground or the city officials was irrelevant, suspicious about your activities. That meant either being trialled by the person on whose territory you were living for spilling some of their acid to the goblet of law, or being trailed by some aspiring bounty hunter in disguise who made it into a point to find out what exactly you were up to; in the first case that often meant being forced to do an almost suicidal quest to "prove" your loyalty to them, and in the latter you either had to have a "face" and some funds you could use to stay out of the Underground for some time or you ended up fighting the guy. So far the count was three, but it was more than enough, and it was during one of his runs as a "face" that he ended in that bloody dungeon. On the other hand, Oleandre could talk to guards. Being more of a specialist than a generic thug, he had no markings of any sort that would enable them to make a connection with the Underground, and he sometimes had to work the guards in his favour to accomplish his job or to help others do that. And here, because he had no connections to this Underground and there were no records of him nor any bounties on his head, he was free to do that. And ultimately, there were only three possible outcomes here - he could get what he wanted out of the guards; he could get another hunter on his head, which he could use to do something about the mind reader; or he could bring on himself the attention of one of the local Underground lords, in which case it shouldn't be hard to get access to information. Seeing the mind reader talk to the guard without much success, or at least without any apparent success as the guard's lips did not part with any useful information but the mind reader certainly did not stop at merely verbal actions seeing as he had just received some sort of mental... map - foul bunch of them, telepaths, even when possibly trying to be helpful they still violated one's mental privacy without any concern - Oleandre decided to approach the situation in a more subtle manner. It would require dealing with the politician too, but a good start would be worth much more than his momentary discomfort. 'I know you can hear me, and I know that you know how I feel about you. But I need your help, no, we need your help to pull it off. You've sent me the information you probed out of that guard, so I know you can do it. I ask of you, send this to the others: "We need to get a base of operation. I will try to handle the guards for that, but do not babble on anything, only confirm what I say when they ask. And do not be surprised that I will be using a different name, I need to use one that is common for them not to remember me all that well."' After waiting for a few short moments and making sure that the guard was still looking at them impatiently and somewhat nervously, Oleandre started his act. He put his left hand on his chest, sighed deeply and slowly with his eyes cast down, and then turned his sight to the guard who was still waiting for them to leave the area. "My sincere apologies for the trouble we have caused you, sir. My name is Marcoh and I am a personal attendant of mister Futuo." - With these words Oleandre slowly pointed with his left hand towards Zebedev - "We had been travelling towards the capital to serve witness to the upcoming event, but after being attacked by a... villainous scum who gained access to magic, no doubt without the required permits, out journey had come to a momentary pause and the men closest to mister Futuo had been transported here." - Oleandre stopped talking for a moment, probing for the guard's reaction, but after noticing that he had not shown any signs of having seen through the speech, he continued. - "I am afraid the rest of the entourage had not made it out alive. It pains me greatly that we have lost these men, and I would not be surprised if my lord was deeply shaken by that event. Therefore, I ask of you this much; please show us a way to a place we could stay in, and tell us if there is anything we need to know to evade such... foul human elements during our stay in this town." The bait was set. Now they only had to wait, for there was no way the Underground would not be interested in getting to someone of importance who was not appropriately guarded. And when they come, they'll take the hook, line, and sinker, all at once, and they will be able to gain access to information about this place.
(Normally I'd wait for a couple of more posts, but that was too hefty to just wait on. ) The guard looks furtively at Zebedev, who clearly strikes him as someone used to being obeyed. He nods slowly at Oleandre. [Gettout: he's thinking Damn, it had to be some Senator or something.Now I'm gonna have to leave my post to walk him into town, and then he's probably not going to back me up when I tell my boss why I wasn't at my post and I'm gonna get another sixmonth with no freaking raise. This sucks!] Well, sir... [Maybe I can just tell him and they'll go away.]... (he points almost directly into the rising sun) take the East Road to Salamary Fountain, turn left, and walk to the building with the green tile roof. That's the First National Bank of Wrighton, and directly opposite it is the Hollowmere Hotel. That's about the best place in town [provided you're a rich-bitch and don't care about your value-per-zorkmid] -- I'm sure it'll have everything your master is, uh, used to. [Walk away now. Just get the hell out of here.]
Having heard the answer, Oleandre knew what to think of this town and its guards. They were the usual deal, normal folks thrown into uniforms just to meet the guard quantity quota. But that was good, because it would render the whole thing easier than it would've been normally. He spoke to the guardsman one last time. "Thank you for your cooperation, sir. On behalf on my lord, I will make sure to notify the guard captain about your involvement after this issue is solved. Lord Futuo does not wish for his benefactors to walk away with nothing, after all." Now, knowing that the mind reader was indeed listening on his thoughts and relying them to the others, he directed his thoughts inward. 'We should leave now. I don't know what exactly is this particular place, but what we are looking for is in this town, I'm damn sure of it. We will use the inn the guard recommended - I've no doubts it's going to be frecking expensive, but none of us should be short on zorkmids right now and a good night's rest will do us good. The rest of it after we arrive, just know that if it is possible, we will use a suite rather than individual rooms - that will make it more likely for what we are waiting for to happen.'
Zebedev immediately catches on to what Oleandre is trying to do (why no reason why it's not like he's done this kind of thing before oh no). Attempting to act like an aloof royal, he gives the guard a nod that implies a bit of contempt for the lower class. "Come along, Marcoh. And you!" He points at Gettout. "Did I give you permission to speak? Keep your bloody mouth shut and keep moving." He sets off on the road that the guard pointed out, without checking to see if the others are following.
