Some Light Reading - 01/08/24 - Dee'arna

Write up co-written with willemf. Thanks to Tom for the great session.
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Despite the new itching in her mind, Dee'arna used the journey back from Sigil to try and capture in her notebook the crucial events of her first journey to another plane.

It had been good to see Calla again, taking up the open invitation to see the City of Doors. Unfortunately, Dee had missed the chance to meet Lady Vermillion, but she had taken in every detail of that garden and was certainly curious to meet its owner, one day.

The actual purpose of their travels had been to find a bookshop for Calla. But after arriving at the doorway to one, they had been blocked by two guards who had said the literature within had gained a gestalt consciousness. And the Lady of Pain's creatures (Dabus?) would be along to burn all the books!

All that knowledge!

Calla had been right to insist we step into the situation.

Inside the owner had become a literal mouthpiece to convey the mind of the books he had managed. His own consciousness, lost to screaming.

Dee paused in her notes. That one, Artur, he had said he felt affinity for the “we” in the books. The one voice for many thoughts. There was much more to that man, things he was hiding. Did the others know?

She went back to her notes.

Able to converse, the gestalt books revealed their act of possession was born from his mistreatment of them. Perhaps the man didn't deserve an eternity of pain for his crime, but.. he had ripped out the endings to the least popular works in his collection. And done even worse acts with the paper.

Again, Dee paused her diary. Was that when she had looked at the other book? What had she done next? Dee'arna knew this exact moment had been crucial to the crawling feeling in her mind, and the new raven mark on her hand. But she struggled to remember the details. Only Crow's firm hand on her shoulder suddenly, steering her back to join them.

Aha. That was when Calla had cleverly suggested they write the endings to the tales that the book-mind was furious about. Like exorcising a ghost of her unfinished business. But the moment the party got their quills out to do so, they had found themselves absorbed into a strange inky world of stories.

And then Dee had abandoned her plan of just hanging back to watch these powerful people work. She had thrown herself into the roles of these characters and lived in the moment of pure nonsense. She had been a mouse on the back of a dragon. She had become a guard in a house of mystery. And a rock in the cave of Blibdoolpoolp.

Perhaps most fun of all, was embodying the monster in Nightmare in the Castle Grounds. She grinned to herself recalling it. Now there was a little secret. Yes, they all agreed no one must ever find that book.

But once they had stepped back from whatever world those stories existed in, she had found herself drawn to take one last look at that book. The one Crow had interrupted her examining. Was it still there? With the unfinished stories complete and the gestalt consciousness gone, were the blank pages of that book filled with something new and wonderful?

She had to know what it was about. She had to be sure she hadn't missed something…

A choice. An opportunity. A mistake.

Now back home, Dee'arna paced up and down in her room in Fort Ettin. First, there was anger that she had only just come to this land and already she had some kind of curse that might require her death to be free of it. Frigus and others had spoken of death so casually - but she had seen Calla. Whatever had happened to her, death and resurrection had clearly been no easy game. And after all, isn’t death a rather drastic way to get rid of such a minor problem?

But as Dee'arna looked up at the board with the map of the region she had started working on, she couldn't quite tell the difference between the old thoughts and the new. She traced her finger on the line from Fort Ettin to where the temple she'd be exploring soon was. Following the route of her finger, new cryptic notes that her gaze couldn't settle on scratched into existence.

Yes, that would be a great place to start. She needed to make sure she had all the right equipment ready.

And after all, she muttered to herself, this ‘change’ didn't interfere necessarily with her true purpose. Her mission. Indeed, she'd said to Crow, "aren't secrets something we're all looking for"?

At this recollection of her commitments, Dee reached for her holy symbol on the thin chain around her neck and breathed deep. The golden snake felt a little different, the metal sat right. Strange how the material of it had never felt so much like home. Yes. She had to hold onto the things that really mattered.

So she found herself bargaining with the curse, talking to the crow mark on her hand,
"Let me still be patient" she hissed at it "I will find ssssecrets but it must be my way. Do not make me betray the tenents of my god. Nothing is gained from recklessnessss."

Slowly, almost without notice eyes begin to open on the blank spaces of paper around her, inky vague things that number thirteen. All are watching her, waiting for her.

“You… hear me.” Her black eyes went wider, “What are you?”

The voice that replies sounds like a thousand sheets of papers rubbing over each other
“Of course I hear you little thing, you bear my brand, you are my… champion, I hear your every word and every thought. I am your reward, I am the end point of curiosity, I at once contain and command the greatest secret of all: me. I am the One and Many, the Thirteen Eyed Crow, The Final Secret. And what. Are. You?”

“I am a cleric of Lasseega. The Patient Trickster. I have a god, I will not worship you, if this is what you expect. When you speak of a champion, I have my role for my people.”

But immediately the desire for answers is right there on top of her defensiveness,
“The end point of curiosity, what do you mean by thisss?”

The voice inside her head chuckles.
“Worship? Worship is for gods not secrets. I am called the end point of curiosity because that is what I am and what I will always be and have been. When the limits of knowledge are stretched and pulled and broken there I am. I always become the answer in the end.”

She narrows her eyes at this answer, not really understanding the argument it makes. So instead goes back to the fear she has of losing her focus to this new hunger,
“I search for the past. You want me to find the things I sssseek. I feel it. Sssooo let me do my work in my ways. It will take time. I do not look for petty ssecrets but ones that could change everything.”

The voice begins to cackle now.