INVERTED / PERVERTED WINE NIGHT

“Hell, this seems poorly planned,” Des mused, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at the completely-full bar of Stokbon patrons. Half of them were already roaring drunk, chugging foaming mugs of ale and clinking mead glasses. The other half seemed to be involved in quieter, shadier activities—playing cards, speaking in hushed voices, gold glinting on the table as they passed coins back and forth. Des had managed to lock down a corner booth by dumping her damp armor (which still reeked of blood and brimstone) in a pile on the table to claim it. Now she just had to wait.

Backing out the door to get some fresh air, the lanky elf-woman glanced around herself and pulled up the mail she’d sent to the members of the Inverted Spire mission, most of whom seemed to have a real stick up their ass if not a chip on their shoulder about the whole experience. That’s no good. Well, no way to make bad memories into good ones except to sit down, have a drink, and complain together. That’s what made a bad day at work worth it, and without a couple fellow adventurers to argue with, Des had nobody to talk about the whole deal with except goddamn Crane. And that was a one-sided, air-headed conversation if she ever heard one.

Mail

@Iván Carl @Portia Ahrens @Bradwynne
Y’all busy? Got a tab goin’ at The Fancy Pepper! It’s on me, hell, bring a date if you got one. Don’t stand me up now…
Cheers!

She’d sent another one after that, this one at a specific party member who probably had the least chance of showing up but hell, booze was booze, and Des figured it was worth a shot.

Mail

@Temperance
You alive? I owe you a big one for the heal back there, c’mon over and meet us in Stokbon at the Pepper. Drinks on me! Scout's honor.

Destiny leaned against the front of the tavern, wishing she had a cigarette just for the aesthetic and hoping at least one of these sorry wannabe-heroes was bored and lonely enough to show up. Hoping someone else had questions, and ideas, or details the swordsman had missed in his first report. Or probably not. Hell, I’ll take sharing a laugh about the whole deal and a couple glasses of somethin', too. She swirled her own flask, grimacing at the taste, and settled back to wait.

 

“Hello,” Iván deadpanned, appearing right beside @Destiny Divebird from out of nowhere.

Well, technically, not from out of nowhere. He came out through the front door of the tavern, straight from the back of the tavern. What was he doing at the back of the taverb? Considering he wasn’t employed by the place, who knows? He could’ve gotten lost, trying to get in, and entered the wrong door, only to come out of the tavern looking for the people who sent him an invitation, all while no one batted an eyelash at the masked man who stank of sulphur and blood courtesy of the mask he had procured from his soul-wrenching adventure down in the pits of hell. This was a tavern. In Stokbon. Too many people have probably come her looking worse, more suspicious, and too many people wouldn’t have risked their lives to satiate a passing curiosity. Too many people aren’t like Iván.

The Fancy Pepper wasn’t as fancy as he had expected, but to be fair, the stinky illusionist didn’t even expect to indulge the invitation. He had other, more important things to deal with, namely, his newly found nagging obsession with the masked god-thing that he alone encountered down in the Spire. It was an enlightening experience, and although he did end up dying, without even knowing the masked god-thing’s name, it was still a much better death than getting stepped on by a giant monster. It was a more heroic death. He did, technically, sacrifice himself for the rest of their group.

Wiping his hand of something that smelled of copper, he took his place beside Destiny, also leaning against the front of the tavern. He sighed, wondering if it was just the two of them, and more importantly, if Destiny was still going to pay for everything if it was just the two of them. “No one else is inside,” Iván proclaimed, literally ignoring everyone else that was inside, though to be fair, they were strangers and not the people he had come to see. “…but I saw armor on a corner booth. It smelled like hell, so I figured it must be yours.”

He decided not to tell her that he was just about to leave for someplace else when he accidentally came across her right outside of the Pepper. He wasn’t even sure the bloody armor was Destiny’s. For all he knew, it was some other unclean, unshaven barbarian’s. Iván didn’t remember what Destiny’s armor looked like. He couldn’t even remember what his own looked like most of the time.

I must, I must, I must… The words repeated themselves in his head as he stared at Destiny, eyes behind dark-tinted goggles focused on her face. What was he doing here? He was wasting his time. He needed to find out more about the masked god-thing from the Spire. He should be spending all his time, as well as the few resources he had on him, to finding a way to get near that thing again. Maybe he should go back down the Spire? He shuddered at the thought. There were five of them and they didn’t even make it to the end. He would need four others to go back with him, but who would be crazy enough to risk life and limb for something those Rangers would now brand as completely dangerous, especially for those who valued their ears?

“Thanks a lot, @Portia Ahrens,” he muttered to himself, annoyed as fudge.

 

Bradwynne found himself working at a bar in Stokbon one day. This plan of erecting his own bar in here needed a good amount of money, and so he had to work part-time here for a modest salary while completing missions. As he was working here he had learned the art of making alcoholic drinks from the resident brewer. And then, wanting to earn more than he was receiving then, he read all about the prevalent wine styles in Terrasphere, and found out that the styles matched those of the wine styles of the Middle Ages and that of the antiquity, as should be expected, except some specialty brews from the flora which should only be found here. And so he experimented on various brews, some became very delicious, and some, like that Chinese medicinal which recipe he had brought to the real world, although healed the gout of the owner, was considered too disgusting to even be considered to be placed on the menu. There was however, one of his creations that made it to the main offerings of the bar, and now both the former master and the former student could create it. It was a wine made in the ancient Roman tradition, the mild spice of the sweet white wine making a good counterpart to the commonly spicy dishes within the main offering. Bradwynne had dubbed his specialty the "Pompeii Wine" from the city of antiquity in the real world that was buried by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius, which was known by its wine and libations. When he was asked about the origin of the name, he recounted the story of the event and the libations in the real world as told by some old man in Dunnstads in a legend, so that they would never ask any further.

He was working on his regular brews at the time when he received a mail from someone. When he opened the mail, it was from Destiny, telling everyone who had participated in the quest at that freaky hole to meet up for some get-together at... The Fancy Pepper? Wait, it was the bar where he was working! Well this should be a problem. Last time he took some days off after brewing a huge amount of ale and mead, and now he had to take leave for some time to hold a party in the bar where he was an employee? He then talked to the boss about the matter, and fortunately he said it was all right, and he could bring one or two huge flasks of Pompeii wine with him. It had seemed that it was about that situation when he came back that only two flasks of wine remained of the stock because some Falderen nobles decided to hold a party there. The owner had witnessed the libations that he always thought as a legend, and so the wine was almost exhausted that night, and he made out with a really huge profit. And so, facing the origin of it all, he authorized a day-off and free supplies for Bradwynne. Glad that the owner let him, he quickly dressed up in his occasional special waiter uniform and went outside the cellar.

A very youthful-looking man went out from the kitchen of the bar, holding with his two hands a huge flask larger than a normal faerin, but as the youth was quite tall he could manage to carry it. He was wearing a black cotton vest over a white shirt and a light blue ascot tie, black short pants, and white socks that were peeking an inch over a pair of black and shiny leather boots. The youth looked around the area, and when he apparently saw nothing, he went out at the front entrance, where he found the two, Destiny and Ivan. Not yet introducing himself, he then said, with a smile that could make everyone squee because of cuteness, "Welcome to The Fancy Pepper". He then showed the flask in his hand, and then said, "One of the Seven Spiced Wonders of The Fancy Pepper, the Pompeii Wine."

 

What the hell was that smell. Des lifted an arm, fully prepared to publicly sniff her armpit, when Ivan’s voice scared her out of her investigation. “God damn,” she swore, clapping her hand back to her side as if swiftly killing a mosquito. “You got it, armor’s mine. But you’re one to talk! Christ, where’re you hiding that thing, anyway?” She braced herself to turn and see that face, which was actually the face of the goddamn spring guardian they’d ripped to pieces like a bunch of wild animals, but to her immense relief it was just Ivan’s ordinary goggles. “Whatever happened to Sharkie, by the way? I figured you ate ‘im, but—”

They were interrupted by a cute blonde girl bringing wine, who Des recognized as someone she knew only because her Hunting mastery deigned to pop up with a helpful caption that read BRADWYNNE. “Whoooop,” Des said in muffled greeting, her voice resonating from within the glass as she chugged the rest to have room for Pompeii Surprise. She broke off to wipe her mouth on the back of her hand. “—What the hell—Brad? You work in this goddamn game?” Horror. Hell, part-time service work was bad enough in the real world without having to scrape by for gold in this one. Maybe Des should be a little more frugal with her spending if it meant she might end up as some elven barwench dancing for tips.

Anyway, call her paranoid, but it looked like Ivan didn’t want to stay long. He was real shifty-seeming, though that actually was… well, pretty normal. Des didn’t want to say that made her panic, but—hell, he was the guest of honor practically, wasn’t he? They’d never heard what happened when their last companion went down the hole, and unless Ivan had read a copy of Brad’s report, he didn’t know what they’d seen on the way back up. Just more of the same, honestly, but still. “Wow, ‘wonder!’ Ain’t that wonder-ful, Ivan?” she drawled, marshaling up some false enthusiasm, “C’mon, stick around. Like I said, it’s on me.” She held out her glass for the so-called youth to fill and passed it to Ivan. Hell, nobody could run out on a full drink! “So is this just a bit, or you actually make this stuff? You look fancy,” Des told Bradwynne, a little skeptical.

She caught Ivan saying something under his breath and coughed on her first sip of spicy volcano wonder, stopping to thump her chest. “Portia?! Why’re you muttering about Portia?” Where was the last surviving member of the Spire, anyway?

 

It had seemed that Destiny was surprised by his entrance. It should be expected, because of his waiter uniform. Well maybe she had not expected a player to work in some bar, or maybe she was stunned by the cuteness he exuded. Well this uniform was custom designed... wait she said about the former. Scratching the hair near his right ear, he then said, "It was a combination of the need to earn gold, and to learn about the art of brewing. It should be nice if I could prepare something for any journey. And wine should be one of those." He then poured the wine from the flask he was holding. It was still full, and so he just slightly tilted the flask. The wine was of a light brown color, much like rum, although with some cloudiness at the background. It smelled of honey and pepper, but with much more examination other spices could be smelled. But anyway, because of the presence of the person who smelled as if he was a dealer of eternal damnation in hell, the smell of the wine was completely drowned. The taste should be very sweet, as it was really sweetened with honey, but as it would be swallowed, the pepper and other spices would be felt, very fitting of its spot in the Seven Spiced Wonders of The Fancy Pepper. But if the drinker had a poor constitution, he or she could easily be drunk: The wine, as prepared by Bradwynne, was of the same alcoholic content as rum or brandy.

As he had heard about Destiny saying that everything's on her, he then said, "Fufu, you sure about that? But anyway, you could shoulder the others, but wine's on me. Got two of these from the boss to celebrate, and I am sure we would not finish them, although I am quite a heavy drinker myself." At the actuation of Destiny, he poured out another glass for Ivan as he was asked if he did the wine himself, and - finally Bradwynne could celebrate - she finally noticed that his uniform was quite fancy. Well Bradwynne took great pride in his choice of clothes, as he placed first the flask on the ground, he then struck a cute pose, and then said, "Do I look really fancy in these?" He then picked up the flask again and then said, "Well the honor of wearing a custom-tailored uniform would be given to those who contributed to the Seven Spiced Wonders, as you can see in that signage," he then pointed to a slotted display board with seven slots where seven specialties of The Fancy Pepper was written on the pieces of wood fitted within the slots. In the seventh slot was placed: "Pompeii Wine - Bradwynne Lambert". "Of course, as you could see there, the person who had his name scribed on three slots was my boss, the owner of the place, the person with two slots was his assistant chef, and the other person with a slot was the master brewer from whom I learned the art of brewing. Maintaining a slot is hard, real hard, considering I had three other colleagues in brewing. They always challenge that slot I won from the master brewer, fortunately they always fail. I wanted to wear this to work, of course I won't let them take my slot."

Finally he had enough of that smell that Ivan was exuding from somewhere, and so he said to him, "Dang it Ivan, what the hell was that smell? Did you just come from hell whipping up other sinners that were there?" He then heard Ivan mutter something about Portia, and as he heard it, he smiled. "Looks like our Punisher from Hell here had a crush on Portia, amirite Ivan?"

 

“Such paltry tricks are beneath you, Bound Prince.”

The mere mention of Sharkie forced the memory of those last words to spring forth in Iván's head. He gasped, audibly, feeling the same pain, or was it relief?, that stabbed his very soul. Those words, that voice, Iván would never forget them, it. The creature, the god, had left a powerful mark on the illusionist. He doubt that mark could, would, go away, at least not for a very long time. He heaved a sigh, trying to cover for his momentary vulnerability, trying to make himself appear bored, uninterested.

Turning to @Destiny Divebird, he adjusted his goggles before answering her question, "That thing?" He wasn't quite sure what Destiny was referring to. What he was sure of was Sharkie's fate. "Sharkie's dead. He was crushed by..." He had mimicked how the otherworldly being had given the furry creature the sweet release of nonexistence, having turned Sharkie into nothing but a faint memory with just one hand. At least Iván thought it was a hand. It served as the being's hand, more precisely. His train of thought wasn't as precise, however, and he ended up cutting himself off. He had no name for the being. He didn't get it. But he will. Eventually.

@Bradwynne's arrival was a blessing in disguise for Iván. He would serve as a distraction, hopefully, drawing the conversation from Iván's lack of coherence to his...job? Interesting. Iván wondered why Bradwynne took a job at the Fancy Pepper when he could just focus on killing monsters, taking contracts, those sort of things. Repetition, maybe? You do the same thing over and over again, things will inevitably get boring. The whole taking a job at an NPC tavern was a pretty interesting gig, too. Maybe Iván should try it out somewhere, sometime.

Somewhere? He should be somewhere else. He should be working towards getting more information on that otherworldly being. He was wasting time. He was wasting resources. He was wasting opportunities. By now, he could've already even met Sharkie's savior, his savior, for the second time. Iván had to know more. Iván had to repay his debt. He must, he must, he must.

His train of thought was interrupted by the filled glass in front of him. Sighing, Iván took it, curious at what it tasted. Despite everything that has happened, he was still trying to be a pretty darn good cook. His specialty? The curry. He was on the verge of perfecting his recipe, well, some verge, thanks to the books he procured from the cripple alchemist just outside of that cursed village. The cursed village... Maybe it had secrets that could Iván in finding out more about the otherworldly being.

"Hmm...? Portia?" Iván was more interested in the Seven Spiced Wonders Bradwynne had started talking about. The blonde lover boy sounded like he was doing quite well for himself, at least in terms of brewing and cooking.

It seemed like Temperance hadn't caught up to him yet. Probably. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't be this cheerful. Maybe she hasn't caught up to any of them yet. He had no doubt the white-haired rogue was not that happy she was the first to die down in the Spire. She'll get over it.

"It's the mask. The guardian's face." He showed them the stinky red mask, what had been the face of the Snow-Quilled Guardian from the Spire. "Who has a crush on Portia?"

Iván took a sip of his glass as he relived the imagery of seeing Portia's ear get ripped off the side of her face by the massive sea creature they had all faced. He was glad they were finally out of that hellhole, though he still longs to once again encounter the otherworldly being that had saved him and Sharkie.

 

Why’d I ask? A gal couldn’t make small-talk these days without getting hit with a whole history of the winemaking staff at the goddamn Fancy Pepper, practically complete with Bradwynne’s resume and LinkedIn profile. Des listened with her mouth hitched to one side, brain rapidly filling with more and more static. It wasn’t that it wasn’t impressive, she just—hell, she just didn’t get why someone would join a whole world of fantasy and exploration and go through something as surreal and spectacular as the Spire and then… Well, go punch in a timecard at the local bar. Aw, that probably wasn't fair to think. The Fancy Pepper was fancy, after all. Kinda.

“Brad, what. Why do I feel like I just took a shot?” she asked blearily, massaging her windpipe. It was damn tasty, don't get her wrong, but the honeyed drink settled on her empty stomach with a sinking, burning feeling. “Hell, if they’re this strong maybe I won’t have to pick up the extra tab.” She grinned wryly, deciding not to mention that the tailored uniform he seemed so proud of really showed off his feminine figure. “Save some for Temp and Portia, they might still be comin’. Y’all want to head inside?”

Iván showed them the damn mask—Des knew he was hiding it somewhere—and asked a question. Destiny answered instantly. “Not me. Must be Brad.” She opened the door to go back inside the tavern, focusing hard on sipping Pompeii wine like Vesuvian royalty and trying not to remember sweeping Portia off her feet and hurtling down the ledges carrying the other girl like a stack of two-by-fours. Christ, I still can’t believe I did that. It was like tryin’ to forget drunk texts you’d already deleted in the morning—who jumped off the roof with a handmade parachute, broke your pool table, and kissed your stepbrother? Me? Nope, sure don’t care to remember that.

Sitting down at the corner booth, sweeping her smelly armor onto the ground (she hoped Brad wouldn’t make a stink about it, since it turned out he worked here) Des made a groping motion with one hand in the air, a vague mimicry of what Iván had done when she’d asked him about their little furry hellion. She hesitated to ask. Part of her still wanted to wait to demand full details ‘til everyone else was here, just in case. Still, if she took too long, Iván might up and run off without saying a damn thing. Start slow. She leaned in. "So back on the second level, when everything went crazy-- you said you saw somethin'? Ab..." She racked her brains. "Mm... Absolver?" It sounded like exercise equipment.

 

"Okay," Iván replied dryly.

There was something about how fast Destiny answered his question that struck him. Ah, he remembered. Wasn't she calling Portia some sort of Chinese vase princess while they were down in the Spire? Hmm, that might not have been the precise term, but Destiny did seem like she had a thing for the one-eared, white-haired warrior Iván had the pleasure of meeting during his first few days in the game. That pleasure died out when she punched him while he was trying to resuscitate her during his first Aristocracy mission. That was a pretty terrible debut.

Destiny and Brad... Wasn't Brad into Destiny, too? The way he glared at Iván whenever he turned to Destiny or came close to her presence, it seemed pretty territorial. Like he had marked her for mating or something. Iván wasn't sure how that worked but it wasn't really that important to him. These people... They can go at it with each other however they liked it, Iván wasn't interested. What he was interested in, however, was their skill set. Maybe he should stay for a while and try to figure out if they could be useful to him. A couple of helpful hands in his quest to know more about the masked purple god-machine-thing that saved his life might be just what the doctor ordered.

Back inside, Iván let Destiny and Brad sit first. He did not want to get in the middle of things yet again. Maybe Brad wanted to sit next to Destiny. Maybe Destiny preferred to sit next to her armor. Iván didn't really care. He would sit last to account for wherever they'd let him sit. It did not matter. Not to him. Not to his quest. Not to the grand scheme of things.

He stared at Destiny's armor as it made a sound, finding itself dumped on the ground. Iván remembered how Destiny had ran off in the face of the giant spindly monster that stepped on Temperance, killing her. The rest of them, Brad and Portia and himself, had elected to use the fog to their advantage, hiding themselves from the massive creature's sight. Temperance had decided to finally pitch in, after so many chances earlier, after always choosing to do things her way, on her own, but it backfired on her. If it didn't, would Temperance have gone down the hole herself? Would she have stolen Iván's opportunity to witness a deity?

Iván had just taken his seat when Destiny asked her another question. Absolver. It was about what he witnessed while he was unconscious. He had tried to tell them about it throughs the communications channel but they had shot him down. Maybe it was because their time was limited down there. Maybe it was because they were all stressed. Iván wondered if he should tell them all about it now. He hesitated. Should he share his grand vision? Should he share his date with, well, destiny? Were these two worthy?

"What about it?" Iván simply asked, taking another sip of Brad's brew.

 

When Ivan presented the mask, the stench became stronger on Bradwynne's nose, but as he had smelled nastier things, he did not mind it much, as he said, "So that's where the smell of hell was from. Hey, it looked like that large hedgehog that we had slain before, certainly it did give us hell like that smell. And that one looked like Sharkie..." his words then became slow, as he had seen that Ivan did not have Sharkie in his possession. Maybe he was also killed with Ivan on the way. Although he regretted his decision to have Sharkie accompany Ivan, maybe if it was not for Sharkie Ivan might not have found the way. As for the two people not having known who was he referring to which had a crush on Portia, which should have been obvious, he then said to Ivan, "Of course I am referring to you Ivan. Who else had the stench of hell with him."

As Destiny quite complained about how strong the wine was, Bradwynne responded, "It's because of the preparation." He just issued an awkward smile, as he was thinking about the wine being too hard on somebody. He then continued, "You remember the origin of the name? The inhabitants of the time were baking the wine with its container in large ovens before they aged it. I just followed the procedures, moreover I did an ancient cocktail with it which might have evaporated some of the water. However, that extra preparation ensured that it could better be diluted with water to weaken the effect of alcohol without affecting the taste much. Need some dilution?" He then looked around him. "Well... maybe we should sit down first before I ask somebody to fetch cold water."

They then proceeded to the table where Destiny had reserved with her smelly armor. Well damn it. Was he the only one who took a bath and cleaned his armor here? There were also some onlookers there, including some waiters and waitresses, that were staring at the armor that was laid on the table. He then swept some of the people out of the way, saying in a quite loud voice, "Nothing to see here, nothing to see here, just three people fresh out of war with hell." The waiters and waitresses dispersed as fast as they saw Bradwynne's clothes; the customers dispersed slowly, some quickly, others being whispered on by another person, moved the same pace, still others shouted, "Who are you anyway?" before being dragged away by some other persons, saying, "It's Bradwynne the Babyface Assassin, don't bother with him, you will not win. Drinking or brawling."

Finally settled at the table at the corner, as Destiny swept off the armor off the table, Bradwynne materialized a bottle of something, poured it on the table before asking a waitress for a cloth, cold water and some glasses. As the two ordered things were brought, he then wiped the table clean and odor-free, which attracted the attention of the waitress, who said, "I can't believe you are still doing that on a day off, Brad." Bradwynne then replied, "Just my custom," as he grabbed the carafe of cold water and a small and a large glass, totaling five each, and placed them on the table before returning the cloth to the waitress. "Well then Brad, I will just wait for your order." She then moved towards the bar. He then said to the two others, "Beautiful, ain't she. Well she works quite hard for her family, and, always challenging the spots of the boss and the assistant chef. Hope that she makes it one day, the father's been sick and she needed the extra salary along with the tailored dress she wanted to wear during work." He then laughed, "Of course not my crush. Just concerned with everyone here. Well so that we should not keep her waiting, you should place your orders. Mind that the dishes here are quite spicy. Best if you had a glass of cold water ready, courtesy of the assistant chef. Very good hydromancer, if you wanted training, he's the go-to guy when he's not working here." He then heard about the topic being discussed. "Absolver? Sounds interesting. Want to hear about it."

 

“Goddammit Brad! I didn’t ask for a chemistry lesson,” Des said, putting one elbow on the table and letting her forehead rest in her hand. She stared at the spinning wood grain for a moment and then closed her eyes. She didn’t feel drunk, but she did feel dizzy as hell. Was this something she was supposed to be taking Wellness points in to avoid? Christ, would she ever learn that this game-world didn’t play by the same rules as the real one? “Water would… be great,” she muttered reluctantly a moment later. Her brow was cold with sweat. Maybe she oughta take it easy for a little bit, at least ‘til Iván caught them all up on his story.

Pushing her flash slightly away from her, just to keep it out of easy reach, she raised her head again, glancing at Iván. “Aw, you couldn’t stop talkin’ about it at the time, what d’you mean ‘what about it’?” Her head had been all befuddled at the time with pain and adrenaline and emotions so she hadn’t been able to concentrate like she’d wanted to. “Was pretty hard to keep track of everything goin’ on down there after Temp set off that black goo trap.” It had been Temperance, right? She’d been the one pokin’ around all those little glowing cairns, after all. “I’d go back and read the log, but my comm glitched out after you went down the hole.” User error, or something more? Des glanced at Bradwynne. “You remember? I tried to send ‘im a message and got an error back.”

She squinted at Brad, reflecting that he might not be paying full attention. She made a face at the patrons’ comments, scowling disbelievingly. Baby-face Assassin? Did he pay someone to call him that? More importantly—“Water,” she said immediately and snatched up the glass the white mage set on the table. The longer that Pompeii wine sat, the longer it burned. “Whew! Who?” She followed the blond’s gaze to the waitress on her way back to the bar and hitched her mouth to the side. “Her? Aw, sure, I guess,” she said, looking slightly pained. After hearing way more than was necessary about Brad’s crush, Destiny just grimaced. “Mm, think I’ll hold off on food for now. Gives me heartburn. Iván, talk, you’re killin’ us with suspense!”

 

"It's his face," Iván had muttered dryly to @Bradwynne, confirming perhaps his worst fears. "Sharkie's gone," the illusionist took another sip of Brad's brew and let out a sigh of approval before turning to the Fancy Pepper's employee. "I do not have a crush on @Portia Ahrens." He didn't. If anything, he considered her an old friend but that was already stretching it. Portia was one of the first Players Iván had met in the game. He met her again during his first Aristocracy mission, which they had failed, and the third time wasn't as charming, considering they technically failed another mission together. Maybe the pair were cursed?

Before they could sit, Bradwynne went on again with another one of his brewing lecture, completely oblivious to how @Destiny Divebird didn't seem to appreciate it, never appreciated it. Iván thought it was interesting, though he did have a soft spot for the culinary arts. Maybe it was just him. The commotion that Bradwynne drew about him was quite interesting as well. Could it be useful, too? What Iván didn't considering interesting or useful was the girl Bradwynne droned on about. She was a waitress. Nothing else. Nothing more.

Destiny was right, and so was he. It had been chaotic right after he woke up from that vision. He still didn't even know what caused it, why it happened. Maybe it was Temperance's fault. Maybe his vision was related to the black goo trap, whatever that was. Between sitting next to Destiny without a log, thanks Brad, to waking up strapped to Temperance's back in the face of the porcupine monster, its face now with him, Iván didn't really remember what happened from point Destiny to point Temperance. He surmised it was during those times that he was out, having his strange vision. Iván nodded at Destiny's mention of water. He could do with a glass of water himself.

"What do you want me to talk about?" Iván still wasn't sure where to start. A lot happened during the Spire, between his vision and his death. Maybe they didn't even deserve to know about his vision. What could they do with the information, anyway? What could they do with it that he can't do himself? "What happened with you three after I went down the hole?"

 

"Hmmm... well I do not remember much about what you call black goo myself." Bradwynne said as he started to pour wine in the small glass and water in the large glass at his front. "As much as I tried to recall, I do not remember what I did while I was the influence of that berry, except for those messages that I typed presumably in those times." He then immediately downed the glass of wine and followed it up quickly with a gulp of water. It was really sweet and spicy to the taste, and he could feel the heat welling up even though he had doused it. Bradwynne really did not remember what he had done those times, from staring stickily towards Destiny, to glaring towards Ivan for also being a male, to offering a bonfire and a log for Destiny, to laughing maniacally at Ivan's misfortune, to even being jealous towards Portia because she was carried by Destiny, to battling the giant Sharkie. "Sometimes I still felt ashamed of those messages, as they lead to Temp's death." He was still being chased by the horrors of seeing a party mate die, and he could do nothing to resurrect her, as he then poured another glass of wine and tried to push away that guilt with successive gulps of wine and water, but still the lingering feeling did not go away. "I was going to ask what other things I did when I was in the influence of that berry, but what Ivan had seen in the vision in that area should be more important, and so we would talk about the latter. I don't remember anything then, but was it also related to what you had seen within the hole? The Absolver thingie you might have said?"

 

So Brad didn’t remember at all. Huh. Strangely, Destiny understood—it felt like a memory of a memory, one step removed from something real. “It all feels like a… hell, like a story someone else told me. Y’know?” The woman stirred her wine with the end of a butter knife, gaze drifting somewhere down into the flask. “I think it helped that we came back up through it on the way back. Saw all the ooze puddles around, the little stone-things, all those ledges I went bouncin’ down…” She couldn’t keep from wincing as she remembered, again, who she’d been carrying while she made that painful descent. More importantly, who she’d sacrificed her own body to shield from harm, completely ignoring every other venture member. Des didn’t remember Temperance picking Iván up, but hell, the stinky illusionist owed the rogue big time. Guess we all do. She was still holdin’ out on the gal to show up, not that she thought anyone but herself could muster up a proper thank-you even if she did.

“Aw, she died healing me and Portia, don’t feel bad,” Destiny said to Brad, checking her messages again just in case a On my way! or Screw you, no! was waiting in her inbox. Nope. “I sorta remember what y’all were sayin’. You were just lookin’ out for me and the team, wasn’t nothing bad. Feels hazy, though.” Since they’d consumed their berries at the same time, they’d worn off at the same time too, so Des didn’t have many more memories than the swordsman did of what he might have said or done during the spell. She could barely remember her own deal, much less someone else’s.

Right, Iván had asked for details on the trip up. Des rubbed the corner of her jaw, trying to think of anything interesting. “Sorry to disappoint, wasn’t much of anything,” she said honestly, mulling it over. “Worked on our reports to the Rangers a little. Brad still had a ton of health and I felt pretty good from that soak in the springs, so we managed fine. Took some creative thinkin’ to get back to the water level, though.” Her lips quirked. Feeling like she’d been talking a bunch, she took a long drink of water to soothe her throat, then leaned over the table. “C’mon, Iván. You got a story to tell, or not? No shame if you died a minute after we left.” Her gaze wandered, a little dreamy, and she propped up her chin in her hand. “Hell, I just wanted to hear about what else was down there. Sure wanted to see more of the place, damn shame we ran so low on supplies.”

 

Berry? What berry? Oh, right, @Bradwynne and @Destiny Divebird ate some strange berries while they were all down in the Spire. It was a strange decision, considering how the place had been unexplored. It could've been dangerous, and perhaps, it was.

Bradwynne didn't seem to remember certain things while the berry had power over him. Could the same be said of Destiny? That would explain a lot, not only the aforementioned messages but maybe also the way Bradwynne had glared at Iván whenever he'd come close to Destiny. That was certainly strange. Maybe not.

Iván didn't really know either of these people. At least before the expedition that was true. It was their first time meeting each other, with the exception of course of himself and Portia Ahrens of course. What was normal to them and what was strange, Iván didn't really know. They were still just getting to know each other.

One thing Iván knew, however, was that Temperance's death was her own fault, not Bradwynne's. She chose to forego her selfish nature at the wrong moment and it cost. Karma, perhaps? If Iván believed in such a thing, then maybe he'd agree to the notion. Things simply happen. We choose how to act when we want to. That does not always go according to our plans.

He listened intently as Destiny recounted her side of things. Their escape route didn't seem as dangerous as the path they took to get so close to the success of their mission.

“Such paltry tricks are beneath you, Bound Prince.”

The illusionist took another sip of Brad's brew as the blonde man drew the conversation, from his own actions while under the influence of the berry, back to the events as Iván and perhaps only Iván had laid witness to them. Destiny seconded the motion, wanting to hear more about what had happened after they the three remaining survivors had all gone.

"It was a vision," Iván began to share, knowing full well that he wouldn't lose anything if he did. "While I was unconscious, it was as if I was brought to a place of exclusivity, of high praise and honor, where things were more complicated and at the same time simpler than what our human minds could comprehend." The word Absolver reverberated in his mind over and over and over again. He tried to shake it off but to no avail, looking crazier than ever. "It made me feel...enlightened."

Another sip again. He started to carefully shake his glass about, peering into its alcoholic contents, before sighing and continuing his train of thought, "I went down the hole, well, fell down the hole. As I went deeper, it seemed to grow smaller. I can still remember how painful it was, making my way down there, my skin scraping against its walls. At one point, I wanted to go back, back up, but it was too late. I had nowhere else to go but down."

Once again, he took the mask he had gotten as some sort of souvenir from that hellish encounter and looked at it, stared it down, "Communications went down, so I couldn't send you guys any messages. The rest of my interface started disintegrating as I went further and further into that abyss. I couldn't even see anything. But I could hear static, loud, chaotic, static. And it was very cold down there, so cold I started feeling numb."

Tell them, Iván... The voice was familiar as it was imagined. Iván knew the truth. It couldn't have been the masked purple god-machine-thing. A second meeting required more than just mere hallucination. The first meeting wasn't even planned, or so it seemed. It wasn't destined. Somehow, someway, they stumbled into it, and him, Iván, had all the privilege and honor in meeting the otherworldly being. Tell them about me. Tell these unworthy insects about my power.

Iván jerked backwards. He blinked his eyes a few times. Suddenly, he wasn't feeling well. Was it truly the Spire's master? Or was it just his mind playing tricks on him, his body failing his purpose, the same way he was failing his personal quest to find his savior. He was wasting his time here. What was he doing? He needed to be somewhere else. He needed to see him again.

 

While he was listening to the words of Ivan, he started to corroborate everything about what Ivan really saw. He was trying to remember everything that he had seen from the point before he had eaten the berry, to the point when Ivan entered the hole, and the events that followed there. He then materialized a quill pen, a bottle of ink, and a piece of parchment, and then, sipping some wine, he was writing while muttering something that was audible to the three, while inaudible to everyone else. What he had written on the parchment was almost the same as what he was muttering.

"So... before I was under the influence of those berries, I noticed that Temp was lagging behind us four, and wondered why. Presumably I was on berry-goggles when I had received this warning from Temp that said, 'FYI don't touch the stone cairns and especially don't put magic into them. Also if you see any purple things running around, p a n i c.' Maybe somehow Ivan touched the cairns, and the result was..." He felt a slight chill coursing through his body, and so he stopped writing for a minute. "I felt that I did something evil right then, but we would talk about that later." He then continued writing. "So maybe because he touched one of the cairns that Ivan saw a vision, and also might have set up the black goo you were talking about. It should have been impossible that Temp had unwittingly activated the cairns and Ivan was the one who saw the vision, although it might have been possible that it was a remote controlled device that could set the black goo chasing towards us. If that we all would have seen the vision since we were also nearby. So, it might have been Ivan who unwittingly set himself up in touching the cairns and seeing the vision. And, since that time, I had seen Ivan chatting about Absolver. It might have been the same phenomenon that he had experienced in the hole, as the magical power within the hole was tampering with our communications. And...as Ivan stopped on speaking, he might have met something more powerful than the vision that had made him... enlightened. Might have been something more awe-inspiring, worthy of praise and adoration, might have been the source of what Ivan had experienced. Although that source might have led him to his death, might have been due to sheer power on the mind and spirit. So my conjecture on this..." He then drank the wine straight as he followed it with a gulp of water. "...that we might have seen an ancient ruins of an experiment to expunge evil from this world, with the might of combined technology of the time, magic, and devotion to what is good. Or it might have been something not created by hands, but existed for that purpose of expunging evil, adored and praised by the ancients who built the cairns for that purpose. Ivan here might have seen and experienced that particular thing that the ancients had experienced, and the knowledge about that thing could point us to the true origin of this world. Or, in another aspect, whether the gods here are real, or fake. Ivan here was not clearly in the wrong if he really believe in another being except the gods here; even in this tavern I had seen much worse than that."