Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 06-21-2006, 05:00 PM   #125
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Join Date: May 2005
Location: Assigned to Mordor
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Panakeia continued to follow the din of the street fight, her heart sinking with every step. She had only just been separated from Anakron, and already (she assumed), he was responsible for more mischief. She should never have left him alone.

But what could she have done? Her duty to the Captain was clear. She needed to teach Skittles a thing or two about that robot of hers. A slow grin reappeared. Panakeia was rather pleased with herself for her solution to RoboSkitt. It was illogical for an illogical being to care about logic. Therefore, for the illogical robot to remain illogical, she would need to be logical. Perfect, brilliant, nonsense. But highly...logical.

Suddenly, Panakeia found herself dizzy. As the world spun and grew dim, she stumbled, clutching a silk palm tree rooted in Astroturf. She thought she heard muffled, fell voices mumbling in a strange tongue. The feeling passed, and Panakeia recovered. What had happened?

She straightened herself and listened for the fight. That too seemed to have ceased. Puzzled, she headed to the spot where she formerly heard the fight, and saw a group of equally puzzled people, seemingly unable to remember why they were ready to tear each other to shreds a moment before. For a fraction of a moment, Panakeia wondered if the Captain's intervention was responsible. Almost in the same moment, she chided herself for the stupidity of thinking that an actor in a TeeVee show could possibly have such an impact.

Then it dawned on her. The obsession with the Captainfor which Panakeia had been willing to risk life and limb less than an hour before was gone. A confused jumble of emotions ran through her.

It must have been the Dweomer.

Of course it was. What else would make you -- and everyone else -- so silly?

Anakron owes me an apology. He owes everyone an apology. Doesn't he realize the trouble he could have - that he did create?

Think of it this way. You're back to normal. He must have un-conveyed the anakronism. He must be sorry. Even if he doesn't say so. Is that apology enough?

Panakeia continued to mull it over. No. The mere undoing wasn't enough. He needed to apologize, if only to prove that he knew he was wrong. The reversal of his conveyance was a good start, but she needed to hear him acknowledge his error.

Panakeia continued her search. At last she spotted Anakron in an alley, flanked by the Blue Istari. Her heart skipped. What were they doing here? Up to no good, she was certain. Panakeia tried to duck into a doorway where she could eavesdrop without being seen, but to no avail.

"This girl, she is cured. Make use of her to maintain control of your conveyances."

Panakeia groaned. They had seen her. No use hiding. And what did they mean? Were the Wizards on her side? That was rather puzzling.

Anakron did not reply, and the Wizards headed back to the main street. As they passed Panakeia at the entrance to the alley, one spoke to her.

"He is upon a knife edge. Do not fail."

And with that, the Istari melted into the crowd.

What did it mean? Had Anakron withdrawn the anakronistic religions of his own accord, or had the Wizards forced him to do so? She had to know. Panakeia was still willing to help him if he had not come to his senses yet, despite irritation with him for involving her in the fruits of his foolish temper tantrum.

"Hello, Anakron. What was that about? The Wizards, I mean." Her voice was somewhat terse.
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