[IC] (Promethean: The Created 2E) Muddy Waters

[Haberdasher]

Adonis
Conditions/Tilts: Masked (Refinement), Connected (Katerina, Persistent)
Alembics: Eros (1), Assimilate (0), Stalker (0), Eris (0)
Health: LLLLLOO I WP: 4/5 I Pyros 5/10
Beats: 0/5 I Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 3 I Vitriol Experiences 2

Adonis sees the Unborn slash Erwin across the stomach, bloodstains spreading across his now tattered shirt. Erwin's face goes through a quick series of emotions: surprise, then pain, then fear. He crumbles to the ground, and the Unborn is on him in a flash, trying to consume him. Just like-

Suddenly, he's not in the Amalgama building. He's back on the shore of Devil's Lake. He's watching the Unborn that burst out of the sand and mud tackle Elektra. She screams for help again, terror in her eyes. Every impulse in his body tells him to RUN.

But then he's back in the present. He feels the shame of abandoning Elektra all over again, the self-hatred for his cowardice. And there's fear again. But it's a different fear from that day at Devil's Lake: it's not fear for himself, it's fear for someone else. For Erwin. And suddenly, he remembers the words he heard after the Firestorm. "YOU ARE STRONGER THAN YOU KNOW, JUST AS STRONG AS THEY ARE. BUT YOUR STRENGTH IS DIFFERENT. YOU WILL REALIZE ITS SOURCE IN TIME." And in that moment, he does.

With a roar that sounds like it should've come from Jax, Adonis charges forward. He doesn't care about his own injuries: he is Created, he can withstand injuries that would cripple a human. Running at full tilt, Adonis flares his Pyros, lowers his shoulder, and slams with his whole weight into the Fibrous Unborn.

Adonis is making an attack on the Fibrous Unborn. Spending a Pyros to boost his Strength by one. Hoping that you will allow me to use the Juggernaut technique (Brute Force 3) here. Strength 4 (3+1) + Brawl 2 = 6 dice -> 3 successes.

[Arcanist]

Chapter 3: Wade in the Water

February 22, 2018

Little is known to the mortal population about the day that the Amalgama LTD labs in the basement of the National Research Council of Canada building on Ellice caught fire. More is known to the Created, and it is a story that Tom Barebones would warm himself well with because it filled so many pages. In time, when he learned to overcome his fear of improper speech, he would retell it to any who would ask it of him. A large throng decided to assault the alchemists who had threatened the sanctity of the Celebration Circle and stolen away the community, the only members of the Ramble that hadn't scattered to the four winds. Leading the charge was former Centimanus Earth-Dies-Screaming, dubbed by the Riven Satin as Earth-Lives-Again, and the Titan Mark 5. You know them, you know their stories. They are the nightmare legends of inner city children, thunderous Darkstorm and bloody Breaker. The slight but terrifying Nepri Scout was at the helm in all his precise, strategic glory, directing the Cathars known as Solomon and the Scarlet Woman to drive men to madness.

Into the depths of the building they charged, fighting the nightmarish Unborn and misguided alchemists alike. But the Muse Adonis had an ally on the inside, an alchemist (who Tom will not divulge the identity of, that poor man has had enough trouble) who could not be burned, aflame with care and love as he was. Little and less is known about what happened to them. Still more were freed, like little Isla, Tom himself, and others thought long gone or never really known at all. Of the Frozen Pilgrim only Earth and Adonis know what really happened. In the wake of the Amalgama attacks, the majority of the Ramble separated for a time, it was too dangerous to remain all in one place, even with Amalgama's presence in the city reduced to a mere token office. It has been over a year since the Created have gathered in numbers at the Celebration Circle, but now, something calls them back.

Winnipeg is ever-strange, afterall, and while there is alchemy aplenty, there are far stranger things at work in the shadows as well.

OOC: Hello again everyone, and welcome back to Muddy Waters! I figured a time skip was in order, so everyone can Resolve every Condition they currently have (minus Refinement Conditions), refill their Pyros and Willpower pools, heal all the way up, and start fresh. Caladriu resolve your Aspiration "Push Adonis to confront Erwin". Also, how has Earth been dealing with the isolation as a new Pariah? ArchonAres it's been quite a while, has Scout found an answer to the question he was asking as an Ascetic? If so, what was the answer? Haberdasher what happened with Erwin after the incident at the lab? Are you two still together? Did you break up? Over what? Depending on how this played out, your Companion Role is probably fulfilled. Caius Wickersham what has Tabula Rasa been doing with their newfound freedom?

Also, just as a way to start things off and shake them up, I would like everyone to detail three rumours that called them back to Winnipeg.

[Caius Wickersham]

Basil Valentine
Conditions/Tilts: Introspective (Refinement)
Alembics: Internalize (0), Prime the Vessel (0)
Health: OOOOOOOO | WP: 5/5 | Pyros: 10/10
Beats: 0/5 | Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 0 | Vitriol Experiences: 0

Basil had walked out of that accursed laboratory and was assailed from thoughts that came from the Azoth and his own brain to know more about his saviors, particularly Earth-Lives-Again. Sadly, while he was ordering his thoughts and processing what he had seen, they were gone. Damn. Well, he had to see about a place to hole up for now while he made his own studies until he could get close to them. He wandered the city when he could, but didn't sense their Azoth again.

He had tales and leads to follow along with maintaining a shelter in this city. He had experience with finding shelter out among the lakes on his journey here and he could easily learn to find it here. In the meantime, he needed to search out the stories of those Created he could find and contact without arousing suspicion. He soon heard the rumors of the gathering and felt he could likely find those who had freed him there.

[Caladriu]

Earth
(stats in flux right now, lowercase f)

Earth-Lives-Again is sitting on a rooftop in the North End, chewing on a scavenged energy bar from their battered canvas backpack. It's been a minute.

They had left Winnipeg on New Year's Day 2017. Earth always figured they'd disappear into the night eventually, ever since they first met up with Mark 5, but after leaving Stannum it felt different than they expected. It was a considered choice in response to the shattering of the Celebration Circle and the terror of Amalgama, not just lashing out and giving up. Earth told the throng that they were gonna leave soon, head North, retrace some of their Hundred-Handed footsteps with fresh eyes, and didn't know when they'd be back. As a sign of good faith, they left Dead Girl's journals and some other prized possessions with Adonis at his apartment.

Now that Earth is back in Winnipeg, they'll pick everything up again, but they're not quite ready yet. Right now they're just people watching.

The Hermit's journey didn't go how they expected. While they were surveying the wreckage and the rebuilding, a pack of humans tracked down the monster Earth-Dies-Screaming at last. Following the revealed Milestone of "not all battles are yours to fight," Earth held back and ended up captured. That was pretty dumb! Earth ended up in chains at a compound in the deep wilderness, a concrete temple to a cult called the True Temple of Silence. By the time they realized how much danger they were in, they found that some dark presence beneath the soil was corroding their Alembics, leaving them starved of power. They were put to work, as golems are, especially in the compound's poppy fields. Gardening. They finally escaped the cult in a purifying Firestorm, lived in the wilderness for a while, and reached a deeper understanding of Metamorphosis. But they still haven't been feeling very good about gardening.

Earth crumples up the energy bar wrapper, hums, and decides to eat that, too. Today, they're going back to the Ross House in the North End. More than a year ago, Earth planted a garden (and fought a plant monster with Mark 5) here, where they adopted Cuprum in the first place. An Elpis vision told them to "plant a garden and watch it grow." The Pariah has been thinking a lot about how others rely on them. They haven't been around much, but hopefully they can see what's become of the meditative patch of earth while they've been gone.

They change their body with Verto, shifting muscles and hair and cheekbones, not wanting to be recognized by Dymond or anyone else yet. They're just here to look, not touch.

---

Some stuff Earth has heard:

• There's this band playing in Winnipeg this week called the Unholy, a "punky doom rock act with 90s vibes and a vampire gimmick." Earth doesn't know what most of that means, but something about "the Unholy+vampire+doom" dredged up rumors from their Centimani occult road trip days, and Earth really wants to check 'em out for themself and see what's going on.
• One of the more memorable productions from the Fringe Festival featured intricate recreations and combinations of tea ceremonies from around the world, led by an enthralling (and inhuman, say the Pilgrim Marks) performer billed as the Chatelaine. There was an interruption during the show by an apparent heckler, and the fallout has been confusing: there are two Chatelaines with the same face in Winnipeg, one masculine and one feminine, each desperately and furiously claiming that the other is an impostor, and the city's artists and hangers-on are split between which one is real. It's like a comedy of errors, but maddening, and in real life the curtain doesn't come down at the end.
• There is an Athanor in the catacombs below Winnipeg, a peaceful grotto that the Unborn and other horrors can't approach. After reading the signs about it, Earth dreamed of an underground orchard at the center of a hedge maze of traps and riddles, guarded by an Unfleshed puppet. Considering how many Pandorans are roaming free after Amalgama, this precious place might be in danger. Maybe somebody smarter than Earth can help find the grotto and see what secrets it contains.
• A midnight bus passenger claimed that If Day created a bridge to a "splinter timeline" where the Axis won WW2 and occupied Canada, and furthermore that this bridge has become stronger with the resurgence of far-right movements. He then started ranting about a man in a high castle, "Nazi Planet Episode Land," and a great machine that bottles timelines. Earth didn't understand a word of it.
• A stampede of horses, fleeing from a racetrack fire, drowned in the Red River many years ago, and their ghostly heads still stalk its icy waters. Don't go swimming, folks.

[Caius Wickersham]

Basil Valentine
Conditions/Tilts: Introspective (Refinement)
Alembics: Internalize (0), Prime the Vessel (0)
Health: OOOOOOOO | WP: 5/5 | Pyros: 10/10
Beats: 0/5 | Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 0 | Vitriol Experiences: 0

Basil walked through the city, exploring and noting his way around. While he was a fairly built man, he wasn't as adept at "urban traversing" as other Created often learned to do. Still, he had learned where he could find a place to hide away from Pandorans and prying eyes in the back alleys and abandoned buildings. His journal was filling with observations and notes for his busy mind. He had much to do and it seemed like he never had the time to do what he was striving for.

He roamed in the North End, seeking the possible vistas here. He had come through here before, but this time he saw a person by the garden that had been put here. It had been unusual and Basil wondered who would be keeping such a garden in a place like this. He approached the person, breaking his usual pattern of watching from afar and only moving in when he was alone. For now, he was compelled to observe and record, but not interact. His unquiet mind was often too caught up in thought to make such a bold move. This one though seemed different. She was looking at this garden as if it were her own.

A well built man of average height with brown eyes and green eyes approached Earth. He carried a large book and otherwise traveled light with only sturdy clothes on him. On closer inspection, she could see that his ring fingers were removed and he was always taking in his surroundings.

[Wormwood]

Mark 5
Conditions: Analyst
Alembics: Unbroken (0), Suffering (0), Phobos (0)
Health:OOOOOOOOOO | Willpower: 6/6 | Pyros: 11/11 | Beats: 1/5 | Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 1 I Vitriol Experiences 1

"Winnipeg."
So much has changed for Mark 5 in this city...
The former aspiring Hero (a thought that makes him scoff bitterly) approaches her very differently this time. And despite having learned so much, he longed for the feelings and attitude he had when first he came her. This time, he didn't come running, guided by an angel. This time, he didn't have a "Mission" of 'purifying' an former Centimani.
This time, Mark 5 walked, lurched even, into the city, looking for the criminal. Not to punish, but to ask for work.
On his way through, he saw a man getting beaten up, but instead of budding in, he watched on. When one of them said "Oy, you got a problem? Nothing to see hear, you hear?!" he just walked on.
Sooner or later, he'd find someone to hire him. He looked desperate enough, he knew. His clothes looked extremely worn-out, he looked and felt tired... he looked like someone a money shark would gladly take advantage of. He knew for sure, he'd been there. Still, he looked decent enough not to be immediately kicked out everywhere.
And so, he counted up the last of his coins and entered the King's Head Pub. "A... something cheap and strong, please."

The wait begins.

[Caladriu]

Earth
Conditions: Patient
Alembics: Bestiae Facies (0), Verto (0), Stereo Humour (0), Arc (0)
Health: OOOOOOOOOO | Willpower: 5/5 | Pyros: 13/13 | Beats: 2/5 | Vitriol Beats: 1/5

Earth, partway shapeshifted, was sitting in the dirt with their chin in their hand, staring at a dead sunflower stalk. They were smiling serenely for a change.

Hearing somebody approach, Earth didn't tense up, but pointed at a sparrow with their more human-looking hand. It fluttered around the stalk, pecking at seeds.

"Check it out. Even though it's dead, it still feeds the bird. The whole garden got frosted over, and there's still stuff living here. Isn't that weird?"

Their eyebrow twitched. They had dampened their Azoth before coming into the city, having heard the rumors about more Pandorans than usual, but now that Earth and Basil were so close by, their Fires were interacting. Another Created.

Earth looked over at the man with the book and the missing fingers. The surprise knocked them out of their altered features. They blinked, and opened their eyes to find them two different colors again, their face grew rounder and softer, the stripes of fair skin from vitiligo spread across their cheeks. Same old Earth-Lives-Again.

"You're not one of Rain's people, are you? I've seen you. Where have I seen you?"

[Caius Wickersham]

Basil Valentine
Conditions/Tilts: Introspective (Refinement)
Alembics: Internalize (0), Prime the Vessel (0)
Health: OOOOOOOO | WP: 5/5 | Pyros: 10/10
Beats: 0/5 | Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 0 | Vitriol Experiences: 0

Her face changed into a more familiar form. How she did that was a mystery, but perhaps it was part of the Created experience Basil had yet to experience. He would need to look into it further when he came to that point. So many questions to ask, but not now. Not now. Right now, the story he was looking for was right here in front of him. Form there, more stories, more knowledge. He looked at her and remembered her. "Rain? No. No. I have never met this Rain."

He looked to the side and jabbered to no one but himself, "What would this Rain know? What is his story? Perhaps I should look into Rain. But then Earth does not trust Rain, it seems. Perhaps best not to know Rain. Anyway, get to the point."

"You remember me, yes. I was one of those freed from the alchemists who would murder us. I saw you and knew I needed your story. I am Basil Valentine. You are Earth. I keep hearing 'Earth-Dies-Screaming when I look at you, but another voice tells me 'Earth-Lives-Again.' What is this? Why do I hear two names around you. I must know."

[ArchonAres]

Scout
Conditions: Resourceful
Alembics: Stone (0) Mutatus Aspiratus (0)
Health: OOOOOO | Willpower: 6/6 | Pyros: 13/13 | Beats: 0/5 | Vitriol Beats: 0/5

Scout still wore his trademark jeans and t-shirt, but now he'd adorned himself with a tool belt. He'd been around the way a little bit since the last time he'd come to the Canada. A trip to the midwestern United States, primarily. There he had been when he had finally created the Azothic object- realized the simple truth of the role of the Ascete, and moved on. Why were they different? The simple answer had eluded him even as it stared him in the face. He could craft objects, literally from the Azoth inside of him. He was a living walking furnace. Of course he could create things like a human- but he could also create things they couldn't. Like his new hammer!

Ever since then he'd moved on. Finally utilized the tools he'd made for himself, he'd started on another trace of the path. The path of the craftsman wasn't one he was particularly good at- but the Alchemy of Quicksilver he took to quite well. The big question he had now was... how did you get paid to make stuff? To that end, he'd come back to Winnipeg. The Created here knew things- and some of them, he could swear he remembered them building things. Perhaps they could help him- teach him how to do this stuff better.

He also knew someone who was far better at people than him who was in Winnipeg- Adonis. He could, perhaps, help him put the words into the right order to get others to help him... but he'd owe his fellow Created for that favor.

[Caladriu]

Earth
Conditions: Patient
Alembics: Bestiae Facies (0), Verto (0), Stereo Humour (0), Arc (0)
Health: OOOOOOOOOO | Willpower: 5/5 | Pyros: 13/13 | Beats: 2/5 | Vitriol Beats: 1/5

"What would this Rain know? What is his story? Perhaps I should look into Rain. But then Earth does not trust Rain, it seems. Perhaps best not to know Rain. Anyway, get to the point."

Earth nodded while Basil thought out loud. "I used to do that, too. Try closing your mouth, the words still appear in your head. Anyway, Rain's a human. She knows plants."

"You remember me, yes. I was one of those freed from the alchemists who would murder us. I saw you and knew I needed your story. I am Basil Valentine. You are Earth. I keep hearing 'Earth-Dies-Screaming when I look at you, but another voice tells me 'Earth-Lives-Again.' What is this? Why do I hear two names around you. I must know."

That jogged some memories. The golem sat up and clumsily tried to snap.

"Yeah. Yeah yeah! I'm surprised you're still here, Winnipeg- I mean, Basil Valentine. I thought all the bodies left town by New Year's. Nothing left of the Ramble around here. They...we, all used to get together in this park down by the Forks, but it's all busted since the night we broke you out."

Hearing a stranger say the old name still makes the golem tense. But they're not a Fury anymore, and they don't lash out.

"Did you ever hear the story of Earth-Dies-Screaming? She was a monster with a hundred hands, claws like the devil, and a belly full of teeth. She'd gotten sick of failing every time as a Pilgrim and tried to become something even worse. She warped her creator's gift of flesh with the power of Flux, dissolution, anti-life, and promised to punish her creator for cursing her with a hopeless existence."

Earth called a spark to their finger and drew something in the dirt: a weak and cowering human body transmuted into something hulking and spiny, raising its claws in triumph.

"She met a beautiful monster called Dead Girl who knew lots of secrets about Flux. She gave her the name Earth-Dies-Screaming, because she used to be called Earth Crisis, and they were killing that wretched weakling together to create something better. They joined forces."

Earth drew an angular shape with wings and big eyes, and bound the two figures together with chains.

"They turned the world upside-down with their pack of ravenous Pandorans, hunting and ravaging and defiling, exploring the shadow places that humans look away from. They learned how to break each other and draw themselves deeper into Flux. One stormy summer night, they finally threw her creator to the bottom of the Grand Canyon to bury her."

Earth carved deep furrows into the dirt, suggesting a canyon, or general devastation. Their gnarled hand was trembling.

"Together, they were unstoppable. Unkillable! An abomination in two bodies, deadly as wildfire, mutable as the moon, stronger than the rock of this miserable earth!"

The bird on the sunflower, spooked, fluttered away. Earth had raised their voice. They looked up at Basil, breathing hard, and tried to wipe away the scorched drawings.

"...uh, anyway, they...got separated. A Firestorm cleared away the fog, and Earth-Dies-Screaming crawled back onto the Pilgrimage, really slowly. She ended up in Winnipeg, where another Tammuz named Mark 5 made it his Mission to help her be good. haw. Her reputation preceded her from all the stories, and some other Pilgrims called Adonis and Scout ended up being drawn to her from across the plains, just like Basil Valentine. They wanted to know how the monster Earth-Dies-Screaming had returned to the Pilgrimage. But they found out that the flesh wasn't the same as the stories, so another Pilgrim called Satin gave her the name Earth-Lives-Again."

The golem had calmed down some. "Lately I'm just going by Earth. And I'm more of a 'they' than a 'she.' You can write that in your book, if you want. What're you carrying it around for, anyway?"

[Caius Wickersham]

Basil Valentine
Conditions/Tilts: Introspective (Refinement)
Alembics: Internalize (0), Prime the Vessel (0)
Health: OOOOOOOO | WP: 5/5 | Pyros: 10/10
Beats: 0/5 | Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 0 | Vitriol Experiences: 0

"I have tried that, but the voice in my mind must have voice or my thinking becomes stuck. Thinking cannot be stuck, not when the breakthrough is close."

"Is it close? I have just begun to hear their story. And already so many questions. Why did Earth-Dies-Screaming decide on the Path of the Hundred Handed? Why did Earth-Dies-Screaming leave it? A Firestorm was all it took to convince Earth-Dies-Screaming to return to the Pilgrimage? There must be more. Did one of the Fiery Angels appear to Earth-Dies-Screaming? Was there a Vision?"

He returned to his normal voice to her, rather than holding the conversation with himself, "I am from the east. I came from among the waters there, as you come from the earth. I find shelter and watch the movements of the Flux-tainted ones. I came here to learn of us. I am at the start of my Pilgrimage, walking the Path of Lead. The book was all that was left for me. That and the piece of plastic with my name on it. It comes in handy at times. It helps me contain my thoughts and what I learn."

He finally realized he should be writing this story in it. He flipped it open and used the piece of charcoal nestled in the pages to write in the alchemical code that he had deciphered from the book's earlier pages. Along with the story as Earth gave it to him, he wrote down his questions and other observations.

"Earth seems to make progress while with another. But Earth and her companions are always together, not united. Union provides great benefits to those like us. I can unite us if Earth and their companions so wished it. Perhaps Earth could allow me the stories of her companions as well. Mark 5, Adonis, Scout, Satin. Yes, I need more stories to learn about myself."

[Arcanist]

February 22^nd, 2018

At The King's Head, Mark 5 starts to settle in for the night, looking worn down and pitiable. Playing tonight, in the wake of the last days of Festival du Voyageur, is the Darren Lavallee Band. The Lavallee family are large, diverse, and prominent in Winnipeg, descendants of Metis leaders in the Red River Resistance. The old patriarch of the family, Louis Lavallee, married Louis Riel's sister, and was a school board secretary in the St. Vital school district for twenty-seven years. He was also deeply involved with maintaining the culture and history of the Metis people. For his efforts, a street and a school were named after him. His distant relatives, on the other hand, have not had so revered a life. One became the star witness in a landmark case that allowed the admission of Battered Wife Syndrome into the Canadian Justice system as evidence. Another was a member of the Indian Posse, a gang Mark is all too familiar with, who was charged and convicted in 2010 for attempting to kill a member of the Native Syndicate who had (possibly) murdered his brother-in-law in 2007.

He was lied to. The boy was innocent and had no affiliations with any gangs, but the attack resulted in him becoming an information for Winnipeg Police. The courts offered a plea deal, on account of the fact that they felt the jury would see the eighteen year old as an "unsavoury person."

The bartender takes a look at Mark's paltry pile of cash, dull and grimy loonies and quarters in a heap, tarnished copper and nickel, and sighs. "Sorry my friend, not enough to cover it here. But if you really want to drink, cross Market Square and look at the Woodbine Hotel. It's cheaper." There's also the unspoken understanding that Mark 5 looks like he's trouble, never mind the unease of Disquiet. The judgement call is a purely human one.

[Wormwood]

Mark 5
Conditions: Analyst
Alembics: Unbroken (0), Suffering (0), Phobos (0)
Health:OOOOOOOOOO | Willpower: 6/6 | Pyros: 11/11 | Beats: 1/5 | Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 1 I Vitriol Experiences 1

Mark 5 didn't understand much about humans, but he understood avoiding trouble and sending troublesome people to troublesome places. He understood that, if he followed the man's advice, he'd have a better chance at landing such a job. "Ah. Thank you. I mean, yes, sorry! For you troubles. And thank you..."

With that, he headed out for the Woodbine Hotel.

[Haberdasher]

Adonis
Conditions/Tilts: Masked (Refinement)
Alembics: Eros (0), Assimilate (0), Stalker (0), Eris (0)
Health: OOOOOOO I WP: 5/5 I Pyros 10/10
Beats: 0/5 I Vitriol Beats: 0/5
Experiences: 3 I Vitriol Experiences 2

One night in late February, a lone figure crosses the Winnipeg city line. He is not a stranger to the city, but he is not a native, either. The Muse Adonis has been away from Winnipeg for months. He had come from the north, where he had been searching for the Frozen Pilgrim. That was, until he had met a battered Extempore who smelled like vodka in a small bar. The fellow Created had come from the direction of Winnipeg. He had given Adonis news: the city was infested with Unborn, freed when the fire had burned down Amalgama's labs. The city was just as dangerous as it had been when Amalgama was in the city, maybe even more so. But the Frozen Pilgrim had come back to Winnipeg, and so Adonis had started the long trek back south.

As he walked the familiar streets, Adonis wondered if any of his friends were still around. Had Earth, or Scout, or Mark 5 come back to the city? Did Erwin still live here? Though he was alone, he did not feel alone or in danger. He had learned to deal with being alone on his journey to and from Nunavut. The first time he had fallen asleep to nothing but the sound of the wind had been awful, especially for a Mimic. He knew he was straying from his path, but finding out who the Frozen Pilgrim was was worth it.

He spent a couple hours leaving Pilgrim Marks in places where he had gathered and walked with the others: the symbols for gold, Galateid, and "meeting place" to show that he wanted to make contact. Hopefully, the others, especially Scout, would recognize the Marks and make the connection. But with his Azoth low to keep the Pandorans away, it could take a while. For now, at least, the Marks would represent a circuit he would walk. But as Adonis finished his work, he decided to return to an old familiar spot: the Circle.

Woot, glad to be back! Arcanist Let me know if you want me to roll for making the Pilgrim Marks. Hopefully Adonis can see some old and new faces if he goes back to the "scene of the crime" as it were.

[Arcanist]

February 22^nd, 2018

The Woodbine Hotel is a bit of a dive, albeit one put in an interesting position. It is wedged between one of the city's top coffee shops, a salon, and a well-liked pub. Two doors down is an antiques shop, and out the back is Market Square. Like a particularly obstinate bear, the hotel looms where it wishes to, its presence seeming to spill out from its borders, but never so far as it to poison the upbeat, quirky cultural environment around it. That's Winnipeg for you; compartmentalization, claustrophobia, contradiction. It happens to be karaoke night. Someone is on stage, singing badly, drunkenly, but the room and its faded wood panels doesn't seem to mind. Mark 5 gets what he was looking for, and settles down at the bar. The room is rough, but most everyone seems to be avoiding one particular booth and the gentleman sitting in it. He's wearing pseudo-military camo, reflective sunglasses, and a lower face mask made to look like a skull. Tied to a leg is a bandana in a slightly brighter hue than the rest of the outfit, but with the same pattern, and stitched crudely to the back of the jacket is a symbol. The Wheel of Life (known to westerners as the Medicine Wheel), with the caricature of the head of a Nakoda warrior wearing a bandana similar to the one tied to this fellow's leg and a some red tipped feather sits below the words "First Nations Warrior" in black.

Here's the thing about gangs. You can break up the organization, but it doesn't address the underlying problem. The old gangs are dead, long live the gang.

While sitting there, however, Mark feels the twinge of a familiar Azothic aura just on the periphery of his senses. Mission isn't over yet.

Earth feels a similar pull, and Basil can tell there's another Created, one he isn't familiar with, a neighbourhood away. But there's another, larger Azothic signature. One that Earth has felt track them to this place before. In the periphery of their vision, there's the candle-flame flutter of white butterflies.

Scout is walking down Main Street, past Union Station, close enough to feel them all encompassed in the warmth of his Azoth. But there is one signature (and several others) down at the Celebration Circle that holds his attention most of all. The one he had set out to find. Pilgrim Marks on a nearby wall, beautiful in their execution, lead him onwards.

The Celebration Circle seemed somewhat hollow without a Ramble nearly three dozen strong, but there are still a few Created here. Adonis recognizes some of them. Solomon, looking more put together than he has before, dressed well, absent-mindedly and wistfully gazing at the circle that was once full of community. The Scarlet Woman, sitting cross-legged in the snow within the shadow of Jax, who is now able to create his origami without the intense focus of the previous year. A stack of lotuses and cranes and little frogs that jump when you push on them is perched in the snow beside him. Tom Barebones is standing by the fire, a paper from his sketchbook in his hand, reading aloud clearly and strongly. He's developed a bit of a poet-sage streak. There's one or two others that Adonis recognizes but never met, a Wretched and a Riven, bundled tightly and sitting near where Tom is performing.

Welcome back.