View source for A Summoner's Call

Bur-Omisace!  City of a Thousand Faiths!  A sprawl of temples and plazas, packed to bursting with philosophers, prophets, and priests, all reciting their greatest passion to the milling crowds!  The center of faith for all of Ivalice, and few louder cities in the world are there than here.

Marduke walks his way off the air ship his staff offering a chiming of bells with every other step.  He is in full regalia of clothing today, no effort to hide who he is or what he is.  Glancing around at the milling crowds he shakes his head slowly, and turns to start towards the Temple of Bahamut.  He has been here before, and knows his way.

The Temple of Bahamut, a grand spire of gray marble and silver-worked iron, sweeping up to disappear into the clouds.  As Marduke emerges from the press of the crowds at the foot of the temple steps, a temple guard in gleaming mythril scale armor steps forward.  "Name and purpose, sir," comes the even voice of a soldier trained and willing to do his job, and nothing more.

"Summoner Marduke Andorian.  Pact of the Mist.  Seeking guidance of the priest of Bahamut."  Brief, and to the point.  Marduke isn't going to really play around in this.  Eyes looking over the guard and offering a smile, "AS well as to pay my respects."

With a nod, the Guard steps aside, opening the grand silvered door to the Temple proper.  "Be welcome then, Summoner of the Mists.  Once inside, ask for Priest Vittorio.  If any will have counsel for a Summoner, none have better than he."  Beyond, the antechamber, and past that the great yawning interior plaza of the Dragon's Temple.

Marduke smiles and nods, "Thank you sir."  He makes his way in and asked around for the Priest Vittorio.  As well as offering his respects.  Ever polite, but always with a serious smile on his face.  As well as in awe of the temples grandure.  "Always amazing this place is."

It's a short while, before Vittorio can be properly located.  The Shrine of the Mists, a secondary spire just a floor up from the plaza, awash in soothing incense and cool, drifting vapor from a central waterfall-sculpture.  The Priest himself, a stooped, aged figure swaddled in white robes, loose and wrapped in such a way as to make him of almost any race.  "Ah," he murmurs, turning away from the sculpture, his voice soft and creaky, ice-blue eyes wrinkling at the corners in a kindly smile.  "It's been some time, hasn't it, Summoner.... pray, tell me.  How can this humble priest be of help, hm?"

Marduke offers a polite bow and then nods.  "We have met before?"  A touch of curiosity in his voice, not quiet reconizing him. "Forgive me if we have, it has been sometime.  To many faces, to many places.  I get around."  Offering a kind smile back, "I come for advice.  You are awre of the situation in Emberstand?  We are now stuck between two armies, both offer slavery of a different sort.  I have come seeking willing summoners and others who would lend their strength to defending the city and its freedom."

"We are of course aware," the priest answers, gesturing toward one of the alabaster benches that ring the outer wall of the shrine, moving slowly toward the indicated seat and lowering himself into it.  "You must know, of course, that the Temples can't take sides.  War is a concern of the people, my boy... the Spirits, themselves, or their clergy, can't involve themselves in a conflict that would mean those faithful who have the poor judgment to stand on the wrong side are abandoned.  Do you understand, my son?"

Marduke nods slowly at that, "Which is why I am not asking the temples, or the priest.  Summoners are envoys, and have the right to choose how they use their power.  Be it for personal, or for the use of others.  I am here to make a appeal to them.  This is the path I have choosen.  The people of Emberstand are strong, their will shall not be broken by this."  A touch more of a frown, "History is a funny thing.  If my request is wrong, I shall take my leave."

The answer is received with a tilt of the head, the wraps beneath his eyes pulled upward by the smile beneath.  "Had you come in the name of our Lady, or the Dragon King, my lad... likely, you'd have walked out of this temple gravely disappointed.  The Priesthood, of this, or any other Temple, won't stand with Emberstrand, my boy... not when wars are fought by people against people.  But you've come, a man, a lone Summoner, his first steps along his journey barely shaken from his boots, and you ask *people* for support.  Oh yes, my lad... that's very much the way to go about it."

Marduke bows his head and smiles, "Thank you.  It is the poeple I ask, those would come."  Nodding to the man, "This is why I come to you asking for advice.  To make sure I am on the right path."  Taking a deep breath, "Though I also would like to talk soon about my next step.  I am nearing the skilled needed to obtain the skills of grand summoner."  chuckling, then frowning again. "For now, might I ask where I could start looking or asking around here, for people to help?"

"Well," Vittorio says, with a soft, raspy chuckle, "if you truly felt like going about it hard way, you could find a box to stand on, and join the crowds out in the plazas.  Who knows, you might get plenty of support, that way."

Marduke shakes his head slowly, "I am asking people to go to war, a very difficult war as we have armies on two sides.  Asking general people, is not blood I want on my hands, for those who are unprepared."  Shaking his head, "There are some strong people here, and I suspect a few of them just need to be asked to come."

"In the Plaza of Knowledge," Vittorio says just moments after Marduke finishes speaking... almost as if the answer had been expected, even...  "look to the sundial, in the center, and remember this, my boy; that which is wisest stands tall, when time is all, yet nothing."

Marduke raises his eyebrows at the answer.  Hmming a moment and nods, he offers a bow, "Thank you."  He offers repeating the riddle to himself, "That which is wisest stands tall, when time is all, yet nothing.  Until we meet again, I will be back.  For the path I walk."  Turning to start on his way.

The bow, returned with a low dip of the head.  The walk to the Plaza of Knowledge is a long and winding one, clogged with all manner of people from general citizenry to religious zealots, to shopgoers and merchants fueling the trade brought in by pilgrimage.  Now and again, a snatch of rumor reaches the Summoner's ears, of war moving to the north, and Rozarria stirring to the south.

Marduke ears would twitch if they could.  Knowledge he is already well aware of.  Others he ignores as he makes his way, careful to avoid people and keeping his own goods tight about him.  A soft sigh, "Riddles always catch me I say.  Time is all, yet nothing?  Eternity?"  Looking around and heading towards the sundial if he can find it.

The Plaza of Knowledge, a glorious vacation place for any scholar, or lover of books at all.  Ringing the entire grand plaza, libraries and schools stand tall and packed, with the grand Temple to the Sage King Ramuh dominating the area.  At the very center of the plaza, a high brass sundial climbs toward the sky, ringed at the mark of every hour with the inlaid images of a different beast of the world; the hawk, the chocobo, the rabite, and many more, all given what appears to be a place of honor for each one of the twenty-four hours of the day.

Marduke holds a hand to his head, "Riddles..."  Looking over the central piece very carefully.  Then sighs again as he leans into his staff, "That which is wisest stands tall.  Time all yet nothing?"  Blinking as he glances to the very top, "The twenty forth hour, which is also the zero hour?"

At the top of the sundial, an owl sits, wings spread atop the very tip of the sundial's needle, facing the mark of high noon.  At the outer ring of the sundial two blank spaces can be picked out; that which falls under the owl's gaze, and that to which its back is turned.

Marduke walks his way around, hmming a moment.  Making his way first to the one the owl is facing, to examin the blank spot.

The blank spot, it appears, is just that; blank.  The owl stares resolutely toward one of the libraries in the plaza, a carved wooden owl picked out above the library door.

Marduke hmms a moment, the smiles, "Clever."  Turning he starts towards the library, taking his time and his staff offering a chim of bells with every other step.

As one closes on the door, nothing seems terribly out of order; scholars occasionally entering and exiting, the carved wooden owl turning its head toward the Temple of Ramuh.  In all respects, it seems a library like any other.

Marduke glances around and hmms a moment, then starts his way in.  Not quiet ready to give up on this location just yet. He starts by looking at who is there.  Just taking note of anybody that might stand out.  After that he glances to see what kind of books are there, musing to himself.

The library is a library, it would seem, and nothing more.  Though, it does tickle the mind that while the owl at the sundial faces this library, the carving over the door faces away, toward the Temple.  Neither look toward each other, which if the library was the key to the puzzle, would be more likely to be the case.

Marduke wonders his way back outside the library.  Glancing up to the temple, and then back towards the owl.  "Hmmm."  He moves back to the square to the empty space behind the owl, to see what is in the line behind it.

On the other side of the plaza, there is likewise a single door in line with the blank paving stone; A pub, it would seem, bearing a sign over the door proclaiming the pub to be the Fallen Nightmare, accompanied by a particularly unflattering image of a dark horse, faceplanted into what appears to be a gutter.  No carving adorns the door, but to either side, carved owls over other doors face pointedly away.

Marduke stares at the door for a long time, perhaps deciding if this is a good idea or not.  He takes a deep breath, and starts for the door, intent on entering in the pub.

Of all things, as Marduke nears the pub's door, a Pyrefly drifts through the age-darkened wood, bobbing up to flit in front of the Summoner's nose.

Marduke holds up his hand to the Pyrefly and smiles, "Hello there little one."  His voice kind, as he watches it.  "It appears I am on the right track hmmm.  May I enter?"

A moment later, the pyrefly darts back through the door, which soon swings open.  Silence, from within, and little movement to indicate that the building is unoccupied.
Marduke raises his eyebrows in a touch of amusement at the situation.  Then steps forward making his way into the building, his staff not hitting the ground and careful to keep the bells from chiming.  No need to distrub who may be in there if anybody.

The door closes behind Marduke, and with the heavy thud of the latch closing, light and life seem to bloom.  While the general air of the tavern is quiet, it's a quiet of low conversation, clinking dishware, and glasses and mugs lifted and lowered.  Several tables have at least two patrons sitting at them, of all walks of life and all shape or size.  The bar is bare of seats, somewhat raised from the common floor, with a wide, semicircular dais in front.  On the front facing of the bar, carvings of as many Spirits as can fit on the long wooden panel, greater and lesser, gambol and loom and plot and fight.  If the artistry and the doorkeeper weren't enough to tell the tale, a look at each patron in turn confirms easily; Marduke has just walked into a Summoner's retreat, clearly built to allow all mortals who deal in Spirits to gather, apart from the hubbub of the City in general.

Marduke plants his staff as he glances around in turn and smiles more and more to himself, "I am going to have to visit here, oh the stories I can hear."  Already falling in love with the retreat.  He makes his way over to the bar and leans into the counter, "Oh please tell me this place has tea.  it would be perfect if it did."

"Ten gil," the bartender says, popping a kettle into a metal-topped brick bread oven.  "First time in the Nightmare, mh?  Stick to the rules, and it won't be your last, then."  With that, he nods to a sign next to the door, laying out the rules of the tavern.

* Neutral territory -- Hostilities end at the door.
* Mortal territory -- Spirits are our work, but work is left outside the door.
* Free territory -- The only one capable of giving orders is the man that pours the drinks; rank is left outside the door.

Marduke glances to the rules and reads over them, "I hope it is not my last."  Reaching into his robes and pulling out the ten gil, "I suppose by the rules of rule two, I am not allowed to ask around to see if anybody is willing to help out the city I am from then?"

"You can ask," the bartender says, setting out a serviceable thin porcelain mug and saucer.  "Like as not you'll need to be convincing, though.  Lots of passionate new blood comes through, not all of them make a good enough case to get anywhere.  And half the time besides, it's work that one could manage on their own, if they felt like it."

Marduke chuckles, "I would be a fool to consider my skills so grand.  My travels are pale in comparsion to the ones who surround me.  At least to some, I can sense that much."  Glancing around again, "As for convincing, I do not have a silver tounge, but i will ask openly and honestly.  Thank you for the tea sir."  Reaching over for the tea, "And hope I do not do my normal, and put my foot in my mouth."  Grinning at that.

The tea is dark and fragrant, smelling faintly of jasmine and clover, and the bartender accepts this answer with a casual nod, returning to his work.  At the tables, many candidates can be spotted to approach; At one table, a Galka in white robes, a heavy axe resting against his side of the table, speaks to a dark-skinned Hume with long, braided red hair.  At another, a Tonberry and a Nu Mou engage in what appears to be a game of chess, and at a third, an armored Burmecian and black-garbed Mithra converse with an elderly Sanuye.

Marduke takes his tea and heads towards a table, avoiding the game of chess not wanting to interupt, and aims for the white robed galka and Hume.  He offers a nod of his head, "May I join you, it is my first visit here, and I would like to meet people."

The conversation is cut off as Marduke approaches, the redhead's eyebrows rising in curiosity.  Glancing at the Galka, she lifts a shoulder, settling back in her chair and picking her sandwich back up in both hands.  The Galka gives Marduke a brief, appraising look, and waves toward one of the two empty chairs at the table.  "Galzakk," he grunts, lifting up a hand.  "'N this be Priya.  She don't talk much, but listens well.  You are?"

"Marduke Andorian."  The man isn't sure how much his name is known, and doesn't go into much detail.  "If I am interupting I can take my leave, it is not my intent to be rude.  I rarely get a chance to sit down and talk to other summoners."  Offering a nod to Galzakk, and then to Pyria.  Moving to take a empty seat and setting down his tea.

"Hn," Galzakk snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, then waving a hand.  "Don't worry 'bout it.  New blood comes in now'n again, conversation's the first thing they'll be after.  Where're you out from, then?"

Marduke ahhs softly and nods, "Emberstand, conversation is the first thing I am after.  Sadly I am here on other business as well."  A touch of a sad smile, "But I cannot pass up the oppertunity to meet a few others."

Emberstrand.

The name falls into the bar like a pebble dropped into a still pond, causing all the patrons present to stop what they're doing and look up.  Across the table, Priya's mouth freezes on her sandwich, and the clink of armor can be heard from the trio behind Marduke.

"Hn," Galzakk says, leaning back in his chair, causing the legs to creak loud in the sudden stillness.  "I'd say conversation's the first thing you're after, but the last thing you need."  Pitching his voice into a low rumble that carries across the bar, he continues.  "Lotta news, been comin' outta Emberstrand, these days.  Not so many Summoners, though."

Marduke takes a sip of his tea, he does notice the sudden change in the bar.  He puts the drink down after a sip and sighs, "There is truth in that."  eyes glancing up to Galzakk.  "I would rather sit here and learn about the tales of others, hear of the realms they have walked, and their stories.  To share my own as well perhaps.  Yet I know the city I live in, and I know the path they will choose.  Emberstand, goes to war.  They have been approached by both sides, demanding them to submit to one or the other.  Each means loss of identity, and submission of themselves.  One side will destroy them in their war machine using the city as a launching point to continue spreading.  The other will strip them of all that they are, leaving them nothing more then a shell.  Tell me, which side would you choose?"

It's impossible for the silence to deepen any further, as Marduke makes his speech, and the expression on the Galka's face doesn't shift a moment.  Without looking, it's impossible to tell the reactions of the others, and Priya, apparently, has moved only enough to finish her bite, chewing slowly as she watches the new Summoner with wide, serious eyes.  "Question for you, new blood," the Galka grunts.  "Why?  World moves on no matter what, and we've all got our jobs to do in it.  So tell me, then, Marduke Andorian.  WHy're *you* takin' sides?"

"Because I can."  Marduke's response is short eyes watching the Galka, his gaze unwavering, "I walk my path with pride, and with strength."  The dragons require strong will after all, "That path does not require me to bow to dictators, or to armies.  I leave, it is as good as running.  The world will move on, it always does.  Yet I am here, and here is now.  While I am here, I will do everything in my power to protect the weak, fight the tryants, and help make the world a safer place.  I will never sit by and do nothing while I can do something, while I can do something.  I see history repeating itself, and there are mistakes that do not need to be made again."  Reaching for his tea to take another sip.

"And you think," comes the careful voice of the Sanuye behind Marduke, "that meeting this grand army on the field... That this, will keep history from returning to crush the helpless beneath it?"

"No."  Marduke glances back to the Sanuye, "Destroying a army does not destroy the ones who created the army.  What I do know is innocent blood has already been spilled, and more of it will be spilled.  The armies must be met, and must be stopped, if there is to be any hope to stop the ones who lead them.  I do not have any of the answers, I only know what I will do.  Because it is what I can do."

"Well spoken," chimes in the Burmecian, giving Marduke a slow nod.  "Best you not be pinning all hopes on what you turn up here, though.  You don't sound like a foolish sort, but it's hard to tell, sometimes."

Marduke smiles faintly, "Thank you."  To the Burmecian, "I seek counsel where I can get it.  I am young as it is, new blood."  Grinning at that, then turning serious again.  "Emberstrand seeks allies, those who would stand with them.  I am here but to ask, as a person, as a citzen of the city."

"Ask."  The word, spoken almost too softly to be heard, from the redhead across Marduke's table.

Marduke nods slowly at that, "Are there any here who would, join with me in Emberstrands defense?"  Glancing around the room slowly trying to gauge the reactinos of those there.

Priya shakes her head, setting her sandwich back in her plate and reaching across the table, palms turned up.  "...Ask," she repeats, in reference to herself alone.

Marduke turns towards Priya and nods, "Priya, will you join with me?"  Asking her specifically.  Turning to fully face her and offering her upmost respect.

Priya smiles gently, closing her eyes and nodding.  Her hands come together, a dim ruby light shining between them briefly.  "Yes," she says as Galzakk chuckles.  "You got your shield then, Andorian.  Girl never could turn down a call for help."  This, met my chuckes around the room, as some of the tension begins to ease.

"Lord Odin'd never let me hear the end of it," the Burmecian says, "if I walked away from a fight like what's coming.  Looks like you've got a sword too."

"We shall spread the word," the Nu Mou chimes in, capturing his partner's rook with a Bishop.  "Many of our paths lead elsewhere for a time... but you will see us in Emberstrand, ere long."

Marduke smiles a bit more, relaxing a bit as the tension starts to shimmer down.  "Thank you, thank you all.  The dragons would never let me set foot on their mountain again if I let this break me."  A sheepish smile at that, "With that out of the way, I would love to learn a bit more about you all.  I am so going to have to visit this place more often."

And with that, whatever trials of membership Marduke needed to pass are complete; here, in the Fallen Nightmare, the Summoner finds cameraderie of a sort not often found elsewhere.  Stories told and heard, food and drink shared in pleasant company, and for a few good hours, at least, the Summoner's burden can be put down without guilt or question.

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