Old Bones [IC]

[Avenger Assembled]

"englishman." Was there dissatisfaction on the face of the great limbed ossury that loomed overhead? Perhaps it was just a trick of the light. "i warred hard with heaven and hell to guard these bones and the souls of those who lay beneath. the holy father feared the power of the golden mask of the sea-lich and forgot our struggle. what can you do now twenty-five score years from when we slew the sea-lich?" The attack had stopped, but the ossuary golem didn't seem inclined to hear reason.

"We can make sure you go home for a Christian burial," replied Edge, already doing some fast calculations about what transport they had available. "And all the others, too. You don't have to be here alone and forgotten on this land."

"...no. we came these thousand leagues and twenty-five score years. i will not abandon the place where we fell, the place where we have been forgotten by the world of men. wizard. your offer?" Mark had the creature negotiating, at least, no small feat under the circumstances.

[trollthumper]

It's easy to see where he's coming from. They fought and died for this place; who's to say they'd give it up that easily? But... wait... ghosts are often tied to relics. And something as powerful and weighted as that mask -- which is just off the coast...

Nick stood before the ossuary golem, trying to present himself as respectfully as possible. "You don't need to go home for a Christian burial," he said. "The faith's taken root here. We can ensure that the local church grants you a proper internment, and erects a monument to your loss. And... we can make sure this doesn't happen again. The necromancer's mask is still off the coast. You did a good job getting rid of it, but I can make sure that no one will ever be able to draw on its power again."

[Avenger Assembled]

"the sea-lich's power is great." As the ossuary golem spoke, it began to wither, ever so slightly, bones gradually falling away to pool at its feet in a potentially lethal rain that showed its former bulk getting smaller and smaller, gradually taking the skeletal shape of what once must have been the man beneath all the bones. "even in death he may swallow the soul of a living mage who bears his mask to hand. only one with a strong soul and no knowledge of fell sorcery may lay hands upon the accursed item. are you a worthy champion of righteousness, englishman?"

[trollthumper]

Does that depend on whether or not I'm actually touching it? I could easily try and contest the power if I can get a lock on it... but then, maybe there are counterspells present for that. And what kind of 'fell sorcery' is he talking about? Does it have to be explicitly infernal, used for dark means, or just necromancy in general? Hate to say it, but he probably wouldn't be the one to distinguish it... and with good reason.

"I'd say my soul is plenty strong," Nick said. "As for 'fell sorcery'... I've never used my powers for fell ends. Never bound, never tortured, never raised for servitude. But if it is the art itself that is the issue... well, there are ways to lift the mask that means neither my hands, nor my will, will ever touch it."

[Avenger Assembled]

The skeletal remains of the fallen inquisitor turned at Nick's words and simply led them across the countryside, the UN team giving the now-man-sized monster as much space as they had back when he was sixty feet tall and trying to smash Nick with a bone sword. Edge occasionally fell back to give status reports on his walkie-talkie, freeing Nick and the skeleton to talk as they made their way across some of the rougher parts of the island towards what was evidently still a beach. Despite bony feet and animated limbs, the skeletal priest showed no hesitation in crossing shallow streams, climbing rocky, forested slopes, and finally simply walking across one luckily deserted road.

When they finally reached a lonely stretch of beach that was, if anything, even more deserted than it had been that day so long ago, the inquisitor pointed out to sea. "by the crag, some thirty fathoms deep. long has it lain there undisturbed, awaiting the touch of man to awaken it again. in life i called for the mightiest of our priests to purge it of its corruption, but venal men in cardinal red feared its power and left those of us with faith and blade to battle such things alone."

[trollthumper]

Nick looked out over the sea, taking in the absolute stillness. He looked out over the sands - no birds flying in the skies above, no crabs scuttling over the sands, and remarkably little brush. Hell, there were no waves - the tide appeared to be something that happened elsewhere. This certainly looked like a land that had been stained with death. "All right... 'touch of man' is obviously a problem, and will likely counts, so using telekinesis is gonna be a problem... but with the right intermediary..." He looked over to Edge. "Do you think we can get one of those robot submarines? The kind James Cameron goes nuts over? If we can get one of those, I can go down to pinpoint it - without touching it, don't worry - and then we can pick it out without risking anyone getting possessed. May be a long shot, but..."

[Avenger Assembled]

"Sure, I can get a submarine out here in a couple of days. There's a research project going on in Liberia right now that I have the authority to commandeer." Edge looked out at the water, shivering a little against the cold, and then added, "But you know, we should probably check and make sure the mask is still there, and that it doesn't have any defenses that could kill a person using the submarine. In my experience, ancient magic artifacts tend to have all sorts of creepy side-effects, especially evil ones like this."

The blue and gold-clad hero gestured at the surface of the water and it began to part, cement bricks rising from the muck to make a channel down along the muddy bay bottom towards the darkly-jutting crag a half-mile out indicated by the skeleton. The inquisitor simply stood, a silent sentinel, and watched as Mark carved a way through the bay down to where the mask lay, the golden artifact itself too far away to make out clearly. "We won't touch it, obviously, but we can at least scan it and make sure it's okay. The last thing we want is for anyone else to get hurt by this thing. Enough people have suffered already."

And with that, he led the way across the mud, his boots squelching through the former bay bottom as they headed for the rocky finger jutting high in the sky.

[trollthumper]

Nick blinked as Edge waved his hands and parted the sea - will not make a Moses joke, will not make a Moses joke - staring down the channel cut into the bay. He'd simply planned to astrally project down into the bay and go searching for the mask, but it would be much easier without the water drowning out the light. "Lead the way," he said, following the luck controller down into the depths. He kept his eyes on his footing, trying not to look up at the walls of water around him. He had no doubts about Edge's abilities, and knew his jacket could resist a heavy barrage and the resulting water pressure. It was just the rest of him he was worried about.

"This a common occurrence in your line of work?" he asked. "Going over the world and retrieving cursed artifacts? Or is the Indiana Jones thing just a fringe benefit?"

[Avenger Assembled]

"No, I mostly do humanitarian work for UNISON," Edge replied. "I build homes and make foodstock, and occasionally chase off mercenaries or mobs who are trying to raid UNISON bases. It's not like AEGIS, UNISON tries not to get into fights if they can help it." Mark had nothing but an American patriot's respect for that institution, but there was no denying that the UN agency was far less openly confrontational than the gun-toting AEGIS agents most of the time. "They only called me in for this case because I've been working in Africa and I'm one of their big guns as far as major meta-crises. I mean, my powers are technically magic, I guess, but I don't know anything except how to find experts like you. Hmm, here we go." After a solid half-mile of undersea walking, the bay bottom notably chillier than the beach above, they approached their destination.

This close, with no sheltering blanket of water, Nick could definitely feel the necromantic energies that had permeated into the bay bottom, a cold, dark, slimy pollution: if this had happened somewhere less isolated, it surely would have been an issue long since for the magically-inclined of the world. As it was, Nick and Edge were the first human being in a very long time to finally round the edge of the crag and find beneath the golden-hued, green-scaled mask of the sea-lich, looking like a Deep One's crown but with far more sinister magical imprecations coming from it. Even without the warning, Nick might not have picked it up: the completely uncorroded mask practically sizzled with buried unholy energies!

[trollthumper]

"Sounds like a great line of work," Nick said. "I always appreciate guys who can do the humanitarian thing. Main reason I got into the business. World's full of people who need help, and not all of them are visible to the naked eye. When I started out, I couldn't work... ninety percent of the conjure I can now. All I could do was see and speak. But once you see what's going on behind the veil... well, it's not like you can just stand aside. I mean, I suppose you could, but you'd be a real --"

The word died on his lips as the mask came into sight. His death sense went off like a Geiger counter right next to an A-bomb. "Yeah, that looks like our target," he said, making very, very sure he didn't get any closer to it. "The thing's sparking with unholy might. As if it needed any more of a big, flashing 'DO NOT TOUCH' sign." He studied the mask, noticing something familiar. "Huh... looks a hell of a lot like Malador's mask. Only a lot more... piscine."

[Avenger Assembled]

"Wait, you talk to ghosts?" Edge sounded really impressed. "That's awesome. I mean, I know you had one right there in your house, and I know there's a ghost at Claremont these days, but that's really wild. Creepy too, I guess, but maybe living people seem weird to the dead." He looked down at the mask and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that does look like Malador all right." He scratched his head and added, "Hey, where DID Malador get his mask? I mean I know it's Atlantean and stuff just like he is, but I always figured he made it himself. Was he around back when all this bad stuff happened?"

[trollthumper]

"Necromancy's a bit tricky to get a bead on if you can't talk to ghosts," said Nick. "I mean, there's the whole business with zombies, but that's just shoving enough energy into something until either it becomes a puppet or explodes. The subtle arts, the true necromancy, requires that you understand death, and who better to understand it from than those who've passed on? Otherwise, you're like a pyrokinetic who can't light their own cigarette."

Nick studied the mask from a distance - though, to be honest, there was no distance that made him feel comfortable studying it. Maybe through satellite footage... "I know Malador's been around for aeons. Wouldn't surprise me if he did stretch all the way back to Atlantis. Then again, he could've been someone who picked up its legacy and decided to tie his name to it for prestige. But then again, we can speculate on the nature of that thing all we want - we probably won't find anything out until we can actually get close to it. And speaking of which..."

He'd spent long enough studying the mask - at least he thought he had. He reached out with his will, contesting against the mask itself. There was a death that came to all things, even when that death was a galvanizing force in and of itself. And it was time this mask met it first hand.

[Avenger Assembled]

The sheer power of Nick's spell made the mask crumple and groan, the green scaly flecks crumbling away into blackly shimmering ash that somehow did the _opposite_ of glowing, absorbing heat and light as it burned away into a thin scattering of ash, the underlying iron warping and bending in impossible angles as it crumpled up like a piece of paper in a toddler's hand. When it was done and the spell had run its course, a thin layer of unpleasant-looking metal left behind. Staring down at the remains of the mask, Edge was left without much to say for a moment. Luckily, such moments passed quickly. "Well, that's one problem solved. I guess we'll go get that Christian burial for all the bones, and put that monument up to the Inquisitor."

Said Inquistor was still standing when Nick and Mark returned, his bones in that familiar parody of humanity at their approach. As soon as Mark let the water close up behind them, he said simply, "pedro" before his skeleton collapsed to a pile of bones and Nick felt the all-too-familiar sensation of a soul passing onto its eternal reward.

[trollthumper]

Nick took a look at the crumpled metal. "Huh... hundreds of years down in the depths, a magical pedigree that could have stretched back to the days of Atlantis, and knowledge of death that others might never discern. And now it's burnt tin foil." He paused for a second, then picked up a rock and tossed it right at the mask, breaking the fragile remains into shards that quickly sank into the silt. "Gotta say, I can't really be that upset about it."

He walked back to the shore, thinking of a good dozen things he could try to say to cement good terms with the priest's spirit. But once he hit land, it became clear that the father's business had been settled, and he was off to a greater reward. "We can get that organized," he said to Edge, once the moment of tranquility had passed. "Pretty sure the local diocese will be happy to get it together."

[Avenger Assembled]

That sort of thing was more the work for the local team than Edge and Nick Cimiterie; the local UNISON agents after all having the local connections that let them get a surprise mass service for centuries-old murder victims set up, as well as a command of the native language. "Well, the exciting part may be about to wind down, unless you really have an urge to see me fill out the standard forms about agents encountering magical monstrosities in the field. You did great work today, Mr. Cimiterie," said the teenager, shaking the older man's hand firmly as the camp bustled around them with the activity of people returning after the giant skeleton attack. "I know some magic people who would just have kept blasting the monster until it was dead. I'll make sure we remember your name next time something big like this happens."