NationStates Jolt Archive

While the vast, painfully overwhealming majority of Abatorians never left the dome they were born in, let alone the Dome System, it did happen from time to time. The workers in the mines went below the domes, for instance, and the brave souls in the Explorers' Guild actually left the domes completely, scouting areas for new domes, and looking for objects of interest that managed to survive at the very bottom of the ocean.

The exploration craft were very similar to the ancient space craft once used by the Abatoirians. They had been perfectly spherical in space as drag ment little, and they were perfect spheres underwater for the structural stability. The walls of the craft were made of specially designed alloys, the power plants running on highly efficient fusion/fission plants, largely because of the copious amounts of uranium that Abatoir stole from the earth and refined.

Exploration Sphere A-47-19 was a long term searching vessel. It's tours typically lasted for months, sometimes as long as a year. While it was to survey for potential dome sites, that was a lesser mission. It's primary concern was finding new species of life and objects of interest. Needless to say, neither was particularly common when the water pressure hovered in the 1080 bar range. Really, there wasn't much of anything aside from flounder, sole and shrimp. And, of course, random unicellular organisms.

The crew was just about to pack it in and begin the long journey home when something out of the ordinary showed on their sonar. It was a rather small sphere. Moving to investigate, they found the item lying in the silt, reflecting the ship's lights back at it. It seemed alive, somehow. Almost as if it was watching them. The oddest thing about it was that it looked to be glass. Perfectly smooth glass. An absurd notion, given the pressure, but there it was.

A-47-19 hovered over the sphere, the crew powering up a working shield and slowly extending it outward to envelope the sphere. The shield kept the oppressive might of the ocean at bay, allowing a robotic arm to slip out and nab the sphere, pulling it to the cargo hold. A perfectly normal operation for the crew. The shield then retracted slowly, and the ship quietly powered away.

Inside the hold the crew members who greeted the sphere were at a loss on what to do now that they had it. It was about a foot in diameter, but it looked even more smooth and more alive in person; it's color a deep, inpenatrable black. The junior officer found himself drawn to it and he tenatively reached out a hand to it only to have the crew chef grab him.

"Don't. Something odd about that thing. Just leave it for now."

A tarp was placed over the sphere, as it tended to disturb the crew, and they made a direct path back to home.

Bad dreams were quite frequent on the journey.

During the trip back to Abatoir proper, the crew decided that the tarp wasn't enough, especially after one of the junior officers was found curled up in a ball on the floor, tarp eskew, gibbering mindlessly. The ship's doctor had no clue what was wrong with the man; he kept yammering about 'visions', and 'flames' and 'iron'. The poor sod was worthless now. He couldn't move, couldn't speak clearly, couldn't do much of anything. It was as if something had reached into his head and seared his mind. Nobody knew if the sphere had anything to do with his present state, but everyone was sure it was to blame.

They used the manipulator claw to grab the orb, tarp and all, and deposit it into a crate. The lid was glued and nailed shut, and the official seal of Abatoir burned into all sides. The penalty for opening such a sealed object was death, but the captain figured that the crew wouldn't be too eager to mess with the thing. Anyone who questioned the branding was sent to visit their mindless crewmate.

---

Stephan Alzis was Alric's personal advisor. Nobody was closer to He Who Is, except, maybe, his wife. Stephan was also one of the few people who knew Alric from before he became the lord and master of the nascent nation that was molded into Abatoir. The two of them had cheated death endless times, and had even found a way to escape the relentless persuit of Time Itself. While Alric tended to avoid his people, prefering to send clones, Stephan had no problems walking through the domes. Indeed, he was often present anytime something interesting happened.

Which explains why he greeted Exploration Vessel A-47-19 when it returned from its journey. Early. The crew was clearly unnerved by his presence; almost as much as they were by the crate that they unloaded. Stephan peered at the crate a moment, and then spoke in his smooth, calm voice.

"Have that taken to my laboratory. The crew will have to be... debriefed."

The crew was never seen again. Neither was the crate, nor the sphere.

TAG, what kind of characters are you looking for?

ooc: Well... that's the thing.

This is currently more story than anything. At least until people realise what that sphere is. Even then, it'll likely be limited, but that's more because of the nature of the item than anything.

OOC: Is it that ball thingy from Lord of the Rings?

I think I know what it is :)

^^^beaten by Imitora...

It's called a Palantir.

I just figured I'd clear some of this up by posting my bits concerning the palantiri. I have two of them--the Orthanc stone and the Osgiliath stone. Right now, the Osgiliath stone is in Angband, and it's the one Melkor uses all the time. Apparently it has the ability to 'eavesdrop' on all of the other palantir, and can simulatneously survey all of them. I just learned this today, and it's prety cool.

The Orthanc stone is generally left in the care of Lord Alkanphel in Utumno, but right now its in Devras because... well, because Alkanphel's in a bit of a pickle.

Also, now that Lord Sauron Reborn has ceased to exist, I am likely to soon lay a claim to the Ithil stone as well.

Just wanted this on the record somewhere. Carry on.

ooc: Okay, well, the cat's out of the bag. Yes, the sphere is a palantir, however nobody in Abatoir has a clue as to what that means, or even the name. Abatoir isn't a Middle Earth nation, but considering the bleed over into NS Earth, I'm taking poetic license, so there, heh.

Basically, from what I've heard on the claims regarding these things, I've got two options. This can either be the Annuminas-stone, or it can be some random 8th stone, as it was just said that 7 where dropped off in Middle Earth, not that only 7 existed.

But, for now, that doesn't much matter, as it's in a box.

It can't be the Annuminas-stone, as I have that one and the Weathertop-stone. The latter was recovered in ancient times, not long after Menelmacar was founded by refugees from Eregion. The latter was recovered by someone else (we're still not sure who) and followed a rather circuitous route to Slutbum Wallah, and then to Menelmacar by way of an exchange of artifacts. Sirithil, being Fëanor's widow, also still has his notes, and efforts are ongoing to make sense of them and perhaps eventually create more palantíri.

There was at least an eighth palantír, the master-stone in Tol Eressëa... that one can't be yours, as it was never moved, and Eressëa is now gone from the circles of the world along with the rest of Aman. However, it's fairly logical to assume that there might have been a number of other palantíri in the Undying Lands, perhaps even many of them, it all depends how many Fëanor bothered to make. It's possible that one of them was being moved on a ship of the Teleri before the fall of Numenor, which could have been sunk in a storm and been lost when Valinor still existed on this world. Just a thought.

This would mean that Abaitor's stone is either the Anor stone or the wonderfully useless Elendil Stone. Or a wanked up 8th stone like he mentioned. Apparently, it is not known how many seeing stones were made by Feanor. It is only known that 7 were distributed to Middle Earth

ooc: Well, shit. I was told that you had Weathertop and Anor.

Hrm. This means I wank, get the burny-hands-almost-useless one, or the "Gee, it looks west" utterly useless one.

I think I'll wank up an 8th. Which means I can do (almost) whatever I want, heh heh heh.

My reference, for those who care or are curious: http://www.tuckborough.net/palantir.html

I'd assume if it was an unlikely eighth stone pulled from a Teleri shipwreck, it'd most likely be of the 'standard' variety, a small, average-powered one like the Orthanc-stone.

As it happens, the Anor-stone still works, it just has a bad case of burn-in, like an old monochrome monitor without a screen saver. If you've got a freakishly strong-willed individual in your country, you can still direct the stone.

ooc: Well, yeah, I know.

Actually, I can manage the freakishly strong-willed part, so to hopefully avoid a rash of people randomly making up new Palantir, I think I'll go with Anor.

Thelas can have Elendil. :p

Melkor stirred, drawing his hand away from the stone on the dias before him. "Most interesting," he muses to himself, as the vision faded. "Another stone has been found." The Angband stone had the unique ability to survey the other palantiri, and eavesdrop on them when necessary.* In this fashion a 'new' stone had just revealed itself. Unfortunately, whoever touched it was not coherent long enough for the Dark Lord to exert his will on the man.

Still, he knew where it was.

Behind him, a Balrog stirred reflexively. His voice echoed in Morgoth's head. 'We should move to capture it at once, my Lord. We cannot allow it to fall in the hands of our enemies.'

The fallen Vala grinned, settling back into his throne with an approving nod. "Oh yes, I agree completely," his voice thundered in answer. He beckoned an Olog Hai from a corner of the throne room, who promtly handed his master a fair sized tablet of stone and a large metal spike. Taking up the spike, the Dark Lord hastily chisled a few things down, returning the slab to the troll once finished. The troll lurches out of the throne room and down one of Angband's many twisting corridors, to deliver his Lord's message to the appropriate agent.

Melkor's eyes flashed and he grinned once more. "Oh yes," he says, obviously quite pleased with himself. "This will do nicely."

Melkor, Lord of Darkness
He who Arises in Might
Emperor Eternal of the Five Kingdoms, Lord and Master of Arda
http://upl.silentwhisper.net/uplfolders/upload5/melkor.jpg

*-this is the Osgiliath Stone. For the purposes of this game, I've renamed it to the Angband Stone, since it's in Angband now :P

OOC: Well, if we're renaming stones, the weathertop stone is the Fëanor Stone, as it's within Fëanor Palace... the other one is simply the Second Stone, since we're ICly not entirely sure which one it is, and it's kept in Celebrimbor's labs at the Prefecture of Science.

Occasionally, Lady Sirithil would risk a glance in the palantír... the Fëanor Stone, almost a meter across, placed within Fëanor Palace. Once, long ago, this stone had resided in the great watchtower of Amon Sûl, Weathertop... it had later been moved to the northern city of Fornost when Weathertop had fallen. Shortly thereafter, Fornost itself also fell, and the palantír was evacuated by ship... but the ship had been lost at sea. Menelmacar had found the wreck long ago, and recovered the stone.

The Seeing Stone was now set on a low, round dais crafted of black stone... the dais was able to rotate, saving Sirithil the trouble of walking around it as she directed its sight, and a digital readout on the platform showed the heading on which the Stone's gaze was focused. This function allowed her to focus more of her concentration and will upon the Seeing Stone, giving her greater precision and control over its vision.

When the great palantír was not in use, a wide mithril tube would descend from the ceiling into the dais, locking into place around the Fëanor Stone, both protecting it from thieves and plunging it into total darkness, making it impossible for anyone else to use another palantír to spy on Menelmacar through this one.

As it happened, Sirithil had become skilled at determining quickly and in relative safety whether Morgoth was using his stones, before she would go using hers. There were five other known palantíri, but one, the Anor-stone, remained lost... and so the first direction she would give the Fëanor Stone would be to briefly touch each of the others, barely a quarter-second each time, almost like one computer on a network pinging another. Any other stone in use would come up blank, the ethereal equivalent of static, and she would break off contact and close away the Stone - before the other user would be able to detect her contact and secure a connection - until another time. The Elentári was strong of will, but could still conceivably be broken by the greater power of Maiar and Valar, fallen examples of whom controlled almost all the palantíri Sirithil did not have, and so it was imperative that contact with the other stones be avoided. She ran through this sequence now... having used it so many times before it was practically an automated exercise of will, mere habit and instinct.

One...two...three...four...five...six?

That didn't make any sense. The Anor-stone was lost. Dormant. It hadn't been used in tens of millennia... but evidently it had. The fact she could contact it suggested it had been used recently.

Sirithil stepped back from the stone, surprised by this development. She thought quickly... the scene in the Fëanor Stone was blackness - the Anor-stone, wherever it was, was in darkness. But it had been used. Which meant it had been found. Morgoth had almost certainly discovered this by now, and she was in a race against time.

She stepped up again, extending her hand over the stone and concentrating... instead of seeking the Anor-stone through the normal means of contacting it, she sought out its location... by her will the palantír's eye was sent forth, seeking, searching... with her other hand, Sirithil thumbed a control on the stone's table, and the dais rotated slowly clockwise, slowly enough to give the stone time to search as its gaze swept across Arda like the beam of a radar. And there, far to the east and a little south, it was...

She stepped back off the dais once again, pressing another control on the wall, and the tube descended and the Stone was hidden away... by the time it had locked into position, the Elvenqueen had already left the chamber, on her way to her office.

Sitting at her desk, she called up a map of the earth on her holo... and plotting a line from Vinyatírion along the heading the dais' readout had given her. It swept through a rather large number of countries, rather more than she wanted to search individually. There had to be a way to narrow it down, but that required two... stones...

She reached for her comm. "Celebrimbor, crate up the Second Stone, we're going to America."

Alzis pondered the object before him. The curious sphere had been transfered to one of his private labs, and was sitting on a marble pedistal, all alone in the lab. He paced around the sphere peering at it curiously. "What are you...?" He frowned as he examined it. There was no residue, no sand nor silt, as if it repelled all impurities. It was the oddest thing he had ever run into. The scanners, sensors, tools, and devices of his lab were unable to glean an iota of information about the sphere save for size and weight. He couldn't even verify if it really was glass, or simply a similar looking material. He had also failed miserably in removing a sample for closer inspection.

What disturbed him more was that the sphere seemed to be calling to him. Cautiously he reached out for the sphere before sharply pulling his hand back. This wasn't right. He didn't like that the sphere was trying to control him, especially since he tended to resist and despise such things. He had met psychics, long ago, and had always baffled them, as he was unreadable. That was part of the reason Alric trusted him so much. The fact that the sphere was able to call to him ment it was a powerful artifact indeed.

However, it didn't seem to be browbeating him so much as pleading with him. He got the feeling that the sphere had been long abandoned. Long before Abatoir plunged to the bottom of the ocean -- hell, long before it had taken to the skies -- this sphere had been lost. His hands hovered over the smooth, glassy surface as he pondered. "Eh, what the fuck? They can always bust out a clone," he muttered to himself before lowering his hands.

He had expected it to be cool, but it was searing hot, and his mind filled instantly with flames. He couldn't hear them crackling, but he could feel and see them, indeed that was all he could feel or see. At first Alzis thought it was a trap until he realised that it must be a test of some sort. A test the crewman had obviously failed. Exerting his will against the flames he strove to push them back, only to have them crash back down on him like the ocean above him.

You will not best me, bauble!

Sneering at it's tenacity he pushed back harder, exerting his will more firmly, forcing the flames to leave. The flames snuffed out and he found himself looking at himself from above. He blinked in surprize and then frowned. Clearly it was waiting for instructions. Either that or it was a madman's version of a mirror. Exhaling slowly he demanded to know what it was.

The onslaught was worse than the flames. Countless images poured into Alzis' mind, threatening to drown him as the seemingly limitless flood of data poured into him. He jerked away from the sphere, severing the connection, with a loud yelp and fell to his knees, panting heavily. He rubbed his temples as the headache slowly subsided. "You little bitch!" He raised his arm to strike the sphere, but lowered it, knowing that would only hurt his hand. Clearly this thing was full of surprizes. Rising to his feet he pondered the item some more. He grinned, figuring his question had been far too broad. He would have to limit the scope of his inquiries until he had learned how to properly use the device. Steeling himself for another round he confidently placed his hands on the sphere, powered through the flames and begun his work.

---

Several hours later, Alzis staggered out of his lab. Sagging against the wall he placed an order for the massive blast door to be gaurded by heavily armed guards constantly. He didn't want some fool to steal it, or worse, to touch it. He carefully worked his way back to his quarters and all but collapsed on the bed. He was distressed at how drained he was, but pleased that he had always been able to break contact when things grew too difficult. He was even more pleased that he now had a name.

He fell asleep with it on his lips: palantír.

Ish'tar'c'tan, Naogeddon.

A man walked through ruined building after ruined building, ancient crumbling stones lined this small avenue of the sanctuary city of the dead world, and spared a glance for a set of stairs that plunged into an area, these were newly built, beneath another ruined building, seeming to be of crumbling sandstone, and yet of something much more durable, something that was yet crumbled by age due to the great, nigh, incomprehensible age of the place. Here no life stated, the whole world seemed dead.

The man turned a corner, carefully checking, once again, that the seals and traps of this place were intact even as he looked up at the, once great tower of watching. This tower had once been the home of the first great war-room of the C'tan Union was quite an appropriate place. The man ascended the first steps into the great tower, shattered long ago. Obviously the council room itself wasn't be used, there was nothing there now, but one of the annexes would do nicely.

He'd had a plinth set up in the aged auxiliary council chamber number three, and he set the bundle he carried upon that plinth. He remembered when he had used this place last. Around that were inscriptions, the greater script of the necrontyr, circles and lines for the most part, and the lesser script, cuneiform-like, up to nine lines of varying length, far faster to write than the other two scripts. In the centre of all this sat a black orb, behind heavy cloths and fields of artificial, arcane, darkness.

Here, so far from the other Stones, its kin, the Ithil stone could only be used for a few simple things viewing of its kindred and things close to them, and communicating with their users. Most often, surprisingly, Mephet’ran used it merely to observe its kindred in Aman, as of old, Elendil did. This was what he planned today, waving his hand over the shroud of darkness, and it disappeared, fading away. The cloth over it billowed away, and the Palantír was unveiled.

OOC: For reference, Sauron Reborn and I had a scripted-outcome RP where I was going to get the Ithil Stone from him in a little immoral dealing, which can be found here (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=331265) and thus, I’m assuming I’ve got it by now. *Waggles tongue at Melkor*

ooc: Brief note of description on Stephan Alzis' lab, in case someone gets curious and tries to gaze at Anor. It's currently residing in a large (50' square), sterile room. It looks like a "clean-room" style lab, as that's largely what it is. The lights are off, but there is still some ambient light. In other words, see the stone's current environment would reveal little more than the fact that it's in the hands of someone who's not so much a sorcerer, and more a scientist.

Oh, and for those thinking of snatching it, the location under my name (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mariana_Trench) is the actual IC location of this nation.

As Seers the Yvressi Council was aware of the existence of these palantír's indeed Galdern was interested in getting hold of one for further study, yet how do to so had alluded them for some time. They where of course aware of the location of at least two such objects. It didn't seem unlikely after all that the Lord Melkor and the Lady sirithil would have at least one within their possesion. Yet that did not aid them greatly, and so they had simply let the matter slide, one day they might be able to change that.

For now through it was Galdern who first felt something, yet for now they where not sure what it was, just a potential, an awakening of something. A Mind open to the Universe that was not ment to be there, it was not trained nor experianced in what it was attempting, and this was interesting to the Council. So they hunted for the mind, and sought answers of their own.

"It's a palantír." Stephan's voice was calm as ever.

"A what?"

Alric's office was, of course, very nicely appointed. He sat behind the massive antique desk, cut from the forests of his nation before it took to space. He was always amused by the fact that the very forests he ordered leveled for uranium would be called "old growth" by today's standard. He had never been one for environmentalism. Alzis sat in a very comfortable chair on the other side of the desk, a tumbler of 90 year old bourbon in his hand.

"A palantír. Don't ask me, I didn't name the damnable thing, but that's what I was able to get out of it."

"It's sentient?"

"Not as such," Alzis shook his head thoughtfully. "It's more... well... it's like a mythological artifact. It isn't intelligent, per se, but it does have a will and a... presence."

"And you were able to best it?"

"It's not a matter of conquering. The device will always be difficult and draining to use. And potentially dangerous."

Alric frowned, "How so?"

"Let me start from the begining."

"Please do."

Alzis took a drink from his tumbler before setting it on a coaster, and settling back in the chair. He leveled his gaze at Alric before starting, "I spent several hours wrestling with the thing, five or six, I believe.

"When first used, there's a terrible burning sensation and visions of flames, which I first took to be a test of some sort, however, I later learned that wasn't the case. It's a scrying stone. Aparently, the last person to use it was immolated, and that image was somehow burned into the stone." He smirks a little, "Imagine... an ancient artifact of power getting ghost images like a cheap-ass television set.

"Anyway, once one bypasses the burned image the device can be used. That's no small task, mind. Controlling the thing is even more difficult, but with enough effort, it can be done. I mostly used it to plunge into the past, which tells me that it has a myriad of uses, primary of those being communication between two palantír. However, it appears that it can be used to see the surroundings of a given palantír, and perhaps prophetic visions.

"Unfortunately, since two people communicating via palantír are in mental contact, that means that, conceivably, one could dominate the other, which is, understandably, a major risk, especially since we have no idea who else has one of these spheres. I didn't try to look around for others, as I don't want to bump into someone who's more powerful than me, unlikely as the seems at first blush.

"Actually, I retract that, considering the age of these things. They predate Abatoir, predate you in fact. Hell, they predate me. For now, I think we should just leave it be. I wager there are some major powers in posession of the others, and they're likely to come knocking, rather interested in ours."

Alric sat for a moment, digesting Stephan's report before speaking slowly, "You say one can view another... what would someone viewing ours see right now?"

"An empty lab sealed by a bloody great blast door."

Alric grinned, "That'll work. Why do you assume major players will be interested?"

"Simple, these are artifacts of great power. It takes a potent mind to use one, which eliminates losers and fools. Since they're so potentially usefully, an ambitious leader would want more, if for nothing else than to account for them and keep them from one's enemies."

"Yes, I see. The strong want them, therefore the strong have them. And if they're as old as you say, they've probably changed hands numerous times, typically going from weak to strong."

"Exactly. This one was somehow lost and made its way to us. Lord knows how long it has been there; it quite possibly pre-dates our leap to space, let alone our drop down here." He waved his hand dismissively, "Regardless, we should prepare for potential contact by people who will assume we're some pissant country, despite our... unique location. I advise setting the transmittion buoys to expect external communication."

Alric thought for a moment before nodding, "Good point. We're hardly a household name in the world, part of the reason for coming down here, after all. Very well, tell the folks in the communications center to be on the lookout for incoming missives. Oh, and just to be safe, switch the guard on your lab to automated systems. I want anyone who approaches that lab, aside from you or me to be reduced to component atoms. While trade might be acceptable, I will not have it stolen, or the minds of my citizen bent to someone else's will."

Alzis nodded sharply as he stood, "As you wish."

Deep under the waves, out at sea in the darkest depths of the Southern Sea, a Watcher stirred. One tentacle slithered out from its cave, then another. Then several more. Eventually, some dozens of the appendages had revealed themselves, and they clutched at the edge of the cave as the massive kraken dislodged itself from it's resting place. A deep rumble echoed through the deep as it roused its bretheren.

Soon, the other Watchers followed suit. Two more dislodge themselves from other large caves in a similar fashion, before swimming towards the Abatoir compound.

And back in Angband, Melkor was glad, for his servants would surely crush those who had found the Anor stone, and return it to him.

TAG, what kind of characters are you looking for?

OOC: Is this thing open, invite, story, what? Due to the lack of stimulating RP stuff around lately, I'd be more than happy to participate.

ooc: Well, while not catagorically opposed to other people joining the thread, there's a few things to keep in mind.

1) Abatoir is at the bottom of the Mariana Trench (there's a link to the Wikipedia entery a few posts ago). Not just the exploration vehicle, but the whole nation. Underwater domes and all. Portentially there will be land portions, but so far everything's rather wet.

2) This is a Tolkien artifact. Most of the others have been claimed which limits it to... well... Melkor, Menelmacar, C'tan, and... er... Thelas? However, it seems resonable that allies of the above could be involved.

3) And, finally, Abatoir isn't much involved in the outside world. I've had dealings with Reploid Productions and Rhiadh, and not much else.

But... if you can find a reasonable way to be involved, go ahead, I just reserve the right to call ya on it. Sorry to those who want to be involved, but I guess this is the problem with having such an isolated nation, eh?

This post will mostly be to let Melkor know what my basic defences are, so I apologise in advance if it's dry, but it had to be done. I've never had to RP this before, but it's been bouncing around in my mind for awhile, so no this isn't just pulled out of my ass. Besides, it seems perfectly reasonable for a slightly paranoid dictator who's underwater. If there's a huge, glaring hole in my physics, let me know. Otherwise, suspend disbelief.


The scanner operator in Dome S-18-B blinked at his screen and frowned. Something didn't seem right, he was detecting movement. He hadn't seen a damn thing aside from their own spheres in, well, ever. Turning in his chair he called out to his supervisor, "Ah, sir?"

"What?"

"I've got movement in Extreme Section 12. The system's telling we've got... 3 mutant krakens coming."

"Bullshit, son. We hunted those to extinction over 50 years ago, and what's this 'mutant' nonsense?"

"System says they're most similar to krakens but have way too many arms."

"Hrm." The supervisor pondered for a minute before calling up the line, and almost dropping the phone as he did. "Raise all Extreme Perimeter Defences, prepare all Near Defence and prime the Dome Shields. Aparently He Who Is was expecting something, and they think this is it."

"Yes sir!" Technitions around the room busily got to work as all other advance stations got the word and prepared for whatever was coming for them.

Five hundred years ago, He Who Is -- Alric to the few who were close to him -- decided to lift the whole nation into space to better control his populace. After all, when people were in a situation where one small mistake could lead to catastrophic death, they're often easier to control. As space grew more crowded, 150 years ago, Alric launched a colony ship to deep space and took his nation to the bottom of the ocean for even more isolation.

It took a little time to adapt, especially the defensive systems. Lasers and other beam weapons work fantastically well in the 'vacuum' of space, not so well underwater. They were replaced by sonic weapons. Missiles and torpedoes also work great in space. Again, not so well when the pressure of Abatoir's location would crush them into inert balls of scrap. They were replaced with special mines.

It was these mines that formed the Extreme Perimeter Defence system. Small vents in the floor of the trench ringing the nation slowly opened, allowing the mines to float up. Preset ballasts were in place, causing them to rise to different levels, essentially forming a curtain around the nation. The mines contained low-yield thermonuclear explosives. The purpose was not to generate radiation (not that Alric was opposed to it), but to maximize the concussive force in the smallest possible space. When triggered -- proximity or remote detonation -- they would explode with tremendous force. A rather handy combination of concussive force and sonic damage. To avoid damage to the dome complex, they were about two miles away. This also gave the nation time to prepare if anything got past.

About a mile away from the complex was a series of sonic (high and low frequencies) and electric weapons. Use depending on what they were facing. Occationally they would use both, especially if they were desperate. Closer still were more weapons, and smallish, spherical attack vessels which were one-man vehicles, roughly analogous to a fighter plane. Abatoir spent a large portion of it's budget on defence, and it was obvious. The attack vessels used sonic weapons, could electrify their hulls, and as a last resort could be used for suicide by detonating small nuclear devices. Anything for the nation.

The domes themselves used a modification of their shields from space-tech days. These shields were used frequently in the Launching Domes, as they controlled the rate of water filling launch pads when the domes opened. Otherwise the crashing of the water would be... bad. These were, essentially, industrial, large scale versions of the shields used by the Exploration Sphere that captured the Anor-stone in the first place. Inside the domes, of course, were armed military soldiers.

As a final defence, Alric maintained some of the old starcraft from time gone by, and certain key members could easily flee the planet, and follow the old slipstreams [**] to leave Earth far behind. The chances of all this being needed were pretty slim, but Alric was always one to be prepared.

For now, however, the sensor operators watched as the mysterious kraken-things approached the Extreme Perimeter Defence line.

*: I noticed Melkor called his Wachers 'kraken', so I didn't want confusion. The Abatorians don't know what the Watchers are; they're assuming that these things are mutated versions on RL (posited) krakens, which are bloody huge versions of giant squids. Normally they wouldn't respond to squid like this, but Alric and Alzis are a touch paranoid right now.

**: Abatoir's overworked FTL method uses what they called 'slipstreams'. Basically, it's string theory stuff that allows you to do FTL because the speed of light changes along these streams. Really damn confusing, but... meh. No more or less wanky than anything else.

"Sorry, folks, Washington Monument's closed to tours today. High-up types need it for some reason or another."

The security officers had set up barriers around the great obelisk, and the guard's statement drew a collective awwww, damn from the crowd. The perimeter of the fences extended east a bit, towards the Capitol, ballooning out to provide a landing area of some type upon the lawn of the Mall.

The tourists would not get to climb the Washington Monument today, but they would see something else, something that happened on regular occasion here but was not scheduled for today. A Vilyulairë dropship came in low from the southeast, and gently settled onto the turf, the gravitic engine still running at low power to keep the mass of the ship from damaging the lawn. A ramp lowered, and Lady Sirithil herself, of all people! descended from the ship... she was followed by Prefect of Science Celebrimbor, carrying a crate about sixteen inches to a side, two aides carrying a larger crate, and four Mornahossë, providing escort. She briefly waved to the people, shook a few hands, apologized to them for the inconvenience, explaining the Monument would be open tomorrow, or even within an hour or two, then her and her group went inside the spire, climbing the stairs to the little room at the top.

(OOC: Yep, it's hollow... check it out. (http://www.nps.gov/wamo/history/images/fig28.jpg))

Once there, they wasted no time... the two aides opened the larger crate, setting up a portable dais for the Stone... it wasn't as big, or as nice, as the one back at the Palace, but it was able to rotate (manually) and had the digital readout like the other. Sirithil gently took the smaller box from Celebrimbor, carefully opening it and removing the palantír from within... this she set delicately on the impression in the dais, shifting it a little until it was properly oriented. "There..."

She extended a hand over the palantír, and began to concentrate... she went through her 'ping' sequence... one, two, three, four, five, six. The Anor-stone showed something different this time, a lab... clean, white, sterile, large... there was a blast door, and the entire place seemed quite solidly constructed. Interesting...

She broke off contact with the Anor-stone, again seeking it the long way as she had from the palace... directing the palantír by sheer will, to show her the place where Anor lay. She rotated the tabletop smoothly, slowly, following it around the dais, watching what the Seeing Stone revealed... this time it was to the southwest that she found the Anor-stone at last.

"Gotcha," she whispered softly, noting down the heading from the readout. With the two headings now in hand, a search area could be plotted. Simple triangulation.

"Pack it up, we're moving out."

"Where to, milady?"

"I'm not sure yet. We'll figure it out once we're in the air. Just get onto <heading> and fly straight in that direction. ...and make sure those tourists down there get a voucher for a nice expensive dinner, on me."

OOC: Well, if NS Earth wasn't so damn bloated, it'd be (roughly) 11"21' North latitude and 142" 12' East longitude. Oh, and 36,201 feet down, hee. Info from: http://www.marianatrench.com/

Oh, and yeah... just waiting for squid-boy, mostly.

'Interesting is it not, no sooner do we sense the presence of an unknown mind than the Lady sirithil makes an unscheduled stop in Washington.' The Council as a matter of course kept a careful eye on the movements of many world Leaders, even as the leader of an ally the leader of the Elven peoples was watched closely, not that such was too difficult at the moment, her public appearance had caused quite a stir.

'Of course the two events could be unconnected, after all other events could have occured that needed her presence there...'

'Possibly but why there, I doubt it could be for something contained within the Monument, as anything there would presumably be avaible to her easier and better within the Palace, unless it is something about the Monument itself. No we are looking here at a Mystical not a physical event. Which would increase the potential that it is related to the presence.' The others nodded in agreement, 'So we continue to track the Lady Sirithil's movements then... Should I activate any assets?'

'Yes, and Galdern I want you to rerurn to your stronghold on Earth, co-ordinate matters from there.'

galdern nodded and stood to leave, an hour or so latter he stood upon the Earth, and in the upper levels of his 'Palace'.

OOC: It's really simply because the Stones work best in a high tower that stands above the surrounding terrain, but good deductions there, Tor. :)

~Siri

Alric paced his office nerviously, while Alzis seemed far more relaxed. "No worries, sir. Our defences should be quite sufficient. We've never been successfully invaded."

Alric whirled to face his invader, "We've never been invaded, period, Stephan! How can we know that they're 'quite sufficient'?"

"Alric... these are squid. The mines will likely blast them to pieces with the concussive force. If it doesn't, the sonic weapons will shear the flesh from their bodies. Besides, these domes can withstand the insane pressure of the ocean. How much more could some squid possibly add?"

Alric sighed, nodded and getting a glass of scotch, "I suppose you're right. That damn thing just has me all jumpy."

As the Watchers neared Abatoir, they gradually began to slow, grasping at the ocean's floor as they began to slowly creep along it's surface, still a generous distance from the mines. The creatures spread out, but not overly so, remaining roughly within a 1 mile radius of each other.

Eventually the three creatures came to rest on the ocean's floor, and sat, unmoving. Watching.

The tech in one of the forward observation domes peered at his screen and frowned nerviously. Tapping uselessly at the display, he quickly ran the diagnostic programs. He'd never heard of anyone 'vanishing' for failure due to uncontrolable errors, but he sure didn't want to find out. Or be the first. The diagnostic systems showed that nothing was wrong, but he ran them again, just to be sure. Swallowing nerviously, he called over his supervisor.

"Um, sir... they kraken have stopped moving."

"What?"

"I checked the terminal, sir, but they've stopped all movement. They're just sitting there, extreme range of the mines, possibly completely out of range. It's like they're just... watching us."

The supervisor frowned, pondering his next move carefully. The wrong action would be bad, but no action would be even worse. Life in Abatoir was difficult. Like walking on broken glass from birth to death. However, incorrect actions made with confidence and in good faith were rarely punished. "Send an unmanned probe to investigate the kraken. Don't tip our hand, however. Send one with no defence mechanisms."

The tech nodded, "Yes, sir."

---

A small little sphere, about five feet in diameter, was quickly launched from the observation dome, speeding its way towards the languid kraken. Its sensors immediately clicked on as it neared the squid-things, intending to 'orbit' them.

Alzis paced in his lab, looking at the sphere sitting placidly in the middle of the lab. He walked in slow circles around it, questions raging in his mind. It was a device of much potential, but also much danger. "On the other hand, the meek haven't inherited the Earth yet..."

He stepped up to the sphere with confidence, placing his hand atop it, forcing his way past the increasingly familiar flames, and looking to the other stones. "Just how many are there...?"

Sirithil did not take long to determine where the headings from the two Stones crossed, and her ship was there in a matter of a couple of hours, finding nothing but open sea. Just... open sea.

"There's nothing here, milady. Just some buoys..."

Sirithil peered out the window at the tumultuous waters over which her ship hovered. "What the heck sort of buoys would have to be out here? Aren't we over the deepest ocean this planet has? There isn't a navigational hazard for hundreds of miles in any direction."

The pilot pondered this. "Scanning the nearest one now... it seems to have a communications tranceiver. And is anchored in place by a cable... going down." He looked up at his queen. "Far down."

"Well... the Stone has to be here. There clearly isn't a ship, or a platform. Perhaps something underwater... hail the buoy." She paused until the pilot indicated the channel was open. "Greetings to whatever undersea colonies might exist in the Marianas Trench. I am Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar; I understand you have come into possession of an object... featureless, spherical. It would appear as an orb of darkened glass. Please respond."

The communications officer who received the transmition from Sirithil barely paused in transfering the link directly to Alric's office. He locked in and secured the transmition and turned to the officer sitting next to him, "Hoo-boy. We got one already..."

---

Alric's voice was calm and collected, as if he was taking a casual call from a friend asking if he'd left his wallet the last time he'd stopped by. "Why yes, I did happen to come across just such a thing not too long ago. It's a pretty... interesting item. May I inquire as to your interest in it, Lady Fëanor?"

"Well, long ago it was lost by my people. I hold two other such items, and would like to recover this third, lest it fall into the hands of our longtime enemy, a fellow by the name of Melkor, who I'm sure has also shown interest in the Stone. Is there any means by which I might travel down to your colony to meet with you in person? While my vessel is submersible, I have doubts she would be capable of withstanding the pressure at those depths."

The grin in his voice was almost audible. "Yes, 16,000 PSI would likely give your ship trouble, part of the reason I'm down here." He paused, mulling over his options, letting Siri wait a bit, "While I'm willing to discuss the item with you, I'm not so sure how willing I am to give up such a device. There's something to be said for maintaining a degree of neutrality. After all, if this Melkor is such a worry, I doubt I'd like to get on his bad side." He pauses again, and shrugs, "I'll have a sphere surface to take you down here."

Alric muted the microphone, and summoned a guard, "Send a sphere up to meet with the lady up above, and get Alzis out of his lab, I want him to meet her."

They where still having to respond to the Lady Sirithil's movements still a few steps behind her, and therefore even further behind other forces seeking the Palantir, by all reports it would do them little good to own one, there limited Earth presence taken into consideration, and all the council truely wished to do was examine a Palantir for themselves and establish the truth. They couldn't ask in case it was taken as a sign of mistrust in their allies...

Still they might be able to approach an unknown nation, at least to examine the situation first hand. Which is why they watched from Orbit the Menelmacari vessels movement and where it paused, eventually they would send their broadcast. Assets where already in place to allow them to approach the target location from a slightly different angle. An Adaption of the Vampire Class Fighter specially modified for the pressure of undersea travel, it had been intended for deployment to their Martian Assets, large portions of which where sea based.

Now it departed from their small Earth Outpost and sped towards the area of sea, onboard was Galdern and a small team of Seers, when they got closer he would transmit his own greating.

((Note in all honesty it is Highly unlikely the vessel they are in could go to these depths they are using it more to attempt to come to the location unobserved by their allies. They still arn't sure what to make of the situation after all but all they can do is follow Siri. Whom dosn't usually spend long periods of time parked in a Grav ship above the sea for no reason :) ))

[OOC: Yeah, probably not. Like I mentioned above, it's 8 tons per square inch of pressure. However, I'd likely notice and send a "friendly" vessel to investigate, hee.

Just because it's an underwater nation ruled by a psychotic dictator doesn't mean I can't be friendly.]

The Watchers stirred. Moving as one, they slowly rose from their positions, moving first to strike the probes once an appropriate distance away: they'd let them come just close enough to get a brief look, then they'd disable it with their tentacles. One by one they dispatched the probes, and then they began their ascent.

Slowly at first they arose, their pace quickening as they drew closer to the surface, speeding inexorably towards the Elven craft.

Once again, one of the launching domes slowly creeped open, water flooding in to the empty space, buffeting the sphere, which seemed to not really care one way or the other about the crushing pressure. The sphere wasn't one of the smallest in the Abatoirian fleet, but it was large enough for a good twenty people or so. It quickly rocketed to the surface, unintentionally racing the Watchers to the surface.

The on-board pilot had been briefed that the Watchers were also surfacing, and about how quickly they had dismantled the probes. Needless to say, he was keeping an eye out, the ships defensive measures prepped, and ready to be activated.

---

Alzis was yanked, almost violently, from his visions, by the guard. The poor guard had tried calling his name, tapping his shoulder, and finally shoved Alzis from the palantir. While this tactic worked, it also resulting in Alzis lashing out at his "attacker", grabbing him by the throat and throwing him across the lab, where he bounced off the vault door with a dull thud, landing on the ground in a heap. "Well, piss."

As they neared the location of the Menelmacari vessel the pilot began to run a series of scans firstly he detected the rising watchers through and came to a halt backing away slowly from the area. Galdern sat contemplating the situation. 'Have you seen any reaction from the Menelmacari?'

The man shock his head and Galdern silently cursed this...complicated matters it was one thing to sneak around behind an ally, quite another to not warn them if what could very well be an attack especially when you knew the Lady Sirithil was onboard the vessel about to be struck.

'Can you send an anoymous warning?'
A slight nod, 'Maybe if they follow up and try and determine where the message was sent from they will likely see us but...'
'Do it then'

quickly the buoy was launched from the top of the craft and the message sent
Menelmacari vessel, There are several Large Sea Creatures approaching your position over.

Bump, dammit.

'That is no trinket you carry,' boomed a voice, timeless and mighty amidst the rolling waves, echoing in the minds of the crewmen one and all. 'You have found an ancient artifact, with powers likely beyond your reckoning. Near as old as the sea itself, this device holds more history than you can imagine.'

A pause.

'We will not suffer the Elves to have it. Choose your course of action wisely, as we three are not ones which you would do well to anger. Dismiss the Elven craft immediately: if it is counsel you seek as to the device's function, then we will provide to have it explained to you, as it is best not to trust in the meddling ways of the Elves. Whether you would seek to gift it to them or not, they will attempt to take it from you.'

The crew was, to be blunt, scared shitless by the mysterious "voice". They weren't psychics, their nation had no history of psychics, and they were totally unprepared for things like this. Their ancestors had been spacedy, not magic and sorcery. In fact, this was the kind of thing that training programs really didn't help with. Nobody had expected gigantic squid to psychically communicate with a sphere crew.

The captain of the ship, however, had been trained to respond regardless of the situation, even if the crew wasn't trained. Even if the crew was completely unprepared for an event, it was his job to figure something out. He was accountable, and failure was never an option.

"Translate what I'm about to say into a binary pulse and send it out on the sonar."

"Uh... yes sir!" The technition was thankful for a direct order, that was something he could respond to.

The captain cleared his throat, and started speaking to nobody in particular, figuring that either the sonar pulses or his words would be understood. "This is Captain Aleksandr Kolyvanov of the Abatorian Diplomatic Sphere A-43-N95. We are on a diplomatic mission to retrieve a Ms. Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor and, presumably, her entourage for talks with He Who Is, the Lord and Leader of the Underwater Demesne of Abatoir. I have not been told of any "trinket" nor of the purpose of this visit. I'm afraid that you do not have the authority to overrule my orders. Should you wish to communicate with He Who Is, or one of his agents, I suggest that you follow standard diplomatic protocols.

"I will not dismiss the "Elven" craft, as I do not have the authority to do so. While I cannot guarentee my fate should I anger you, I can certainly guarentee my fate should I anger He Who Is."

"Heavy thaumaturgic disturbances below, milady. They coincide with those three krakens following the sphere..."

Sirithil thought quickly. Magic squids? Well, it was certainly possible... though there weren't many such things she could think of. Just, say, Watchers, or maybe... well, didn't that fit together just so nicely? Palantír discovered, Morgoth takes interest, Watchers show their ugly heads.

"Open a channel to the sphere," she replies. It was probably shallow enough to hear directly, and if not, the buoy would, and would relay her message appropriately.

"Abatorian Diplomatic Sphere, this is Sirithil, aboard Menelmacari Vilyulairë 5862. If you would be so kind as to oblige us with an abrupt change of course so as to get clear, we'll harvest you enough calamari to last your people a month."

She muted the audio for a moment, glanced over at the gunner, and grinned. "Ready a spread of Aicasicili."

The communications officer shook his head as if clearing cobwebs. He turned to the captain, "Uh... sir?"

The captain pondered, trying to think quickly as he didn't have much time on this. If he didn't move, he'd piss off the "elves", and possibly greatly endanger the life of his crew. If he did move, that could piss off whoever was controlling the kraken. Then again, he didn't owe them any allegence. "Bah, screw it. Evasive manoeuvres."

The spheres were actually quite agile despite the medium they were moving though. They'd likely be hell on wheels in space. Powering its reactors to full power, its previously lazy ascent became a rapid 50 knot lateral shot, plowing through the water, creating an awful wake before turning again and rocketing straight up, closing the distance to the surface quickly, popping into the air and stopping just as suddenly, hovering about a half mile from the Menelmacari vessel. Floating as it appeared to make up it's mind, it slowly made its way over to the other vessel.

Barely half a moment after the sphere dodged aside, the Vilyulairë's missile racks flared... nine Aicasicil ("Fell Dagger") gravitic missiles launched, spreading apart in the air as they descended towards the sea at horrific speed. They had spread such as to surround each of the three Watchers with three Aicasicili... when they were in position, they detonated, with blinding flashes of white light and a roaring low monotonal *boom*.

(OOC: The sound is, incidentally, not unlike that of the seismic charges in the asteroid belt scene in Star Wars episode 2.)

The funny thing about Menelmacari missiles is they don't actually have a warhead. When they reach the target location, the gravitic core that propels them overloads itself with a massive omnidirectional repulsion - essentially, it tears itself apart in the act of creating what is termed an 'inverse pulse'... the overall effect being not unlike that of a white hole, except only for a fraction of a second. It is, however, plenty long enough to create a sizable region of vacuum in the water, displacing everything within a five-meter radius or so outward in whatever direction is most convenient. Water, of course, carries concussion waves far more effectively than does air, and when something is caught in between three such waves, from all directions...

Well, it would be interesting to see how much of anything would be left.

"Nice maneuver, Diplomatic Sphere. Very nice indeed."