TheStarsAreRight:DaleNote1
With a sigh, Redland puts down the weeks-old journal article he's been trying (unsuccessfully) to read and looks around for Mr. Parsons. Seeing him in conversation with Carl, he continues to leaf listlessly through the article, while he waits for a break in the action. Eventually Carl heads off and Redland tentatively approaches Dale.
"Hello. I was wondering if, uh, I might steal a few moments of your time. That is, if you're not too busy."
The office door is open, and Dale is still seated at his desk. He's still got a bit of a grin on his face from talking to Carl, perhaps. He notices your approach, smiles, waving you in with his right hand, and nods. His body language is relaxed and loose-jointed, but his hands quickly become busy fiddling with a paper-clip, twisting it into some complicated shape. "Sure thing Doc, come on in and pull up a chair. I've got nuthin' but time until the Talent shows up in a few hours." He gestures at a simple, but elegant Samovar on his sideboard. "Ya want some tea...or maybe somethin' harder?" Dale looks a bit concerned at Redland. "Howzaabout a snack, maybe?"
The office is odd- you might expect it to be disorderly, cluttered, messy and dirty. It is none of those things. The desk has a pad of paper w/ some sort of writing on it...Russian? No? Mystic Symbols of Power? Nope....shorthand? and a pen and pencil set. A ledger book bound in leather, and a clunky adding machine are off to one side. Fresh flowers in a cut glass vase. A bell that wouldn't feel out of place at a hotel registration desk. Plenty of stuff in the room, but displayed with some care. Behind him on a stand on the sideboard is a European style Longsword, possibly antique, but with a less-than antique leather grip. On stands on the floor are several Saxophones (several Tenors, a Baritone, and an Alto) and a clarinet. Another stand has a guitar and a balalaika, along with a ukulele. Oak filing cabinets are around the room edge of the room, as well as some less-recognizable oak cabinets, as is a low oak table, a couch, a pair of overstuffed chairs, and a pair of upright chairs in front of the desk. You remember from earlier that behind that screen (an oriental scene involving cranes, woods, and a lake) to the left is a cot. There is an (well-used) upright piano against the right side wall, and a largish bookcase next to the entryway. Paintings and sketches along the walls, mostly landscapes and city scenes, some of it fairly avante garde.
Redland glances surreptitiously around the room, "Ah, some tea would be great, thanks."
Staring about more openly, his eyes fix on one of the saxophones. "Hmmm. Are you, perhaps, part of the talent yourself, or is it not good form to play at your own club?"
As he listens to Dale's reply, and without really noticing, Redland drifts over to the bookcase and looks it over intently (albeit not touching anything).
You notice that there are a fair number of complicated string-abstract artworks, small, twined around sticks at various points in the room...particularly near the book case. What the players would think of as America Indian "Dreamcatchers"). In the bookcase: (in English) books on mathematics, business, finance and accounting topics, as well as some handy guidebooks on Law (mostly to do with Import and Export controls), some trashy popular America novels from a year or two back, a fairly scholarly work on music theory, and a bunch of history books. Science books on sonics, biology, chemistry, metalurgy. Several Bibles. Also in English, low-level occult stuff (Cotton Mather's Magnalia Christi Americana, the complete Golden Bough by Frazer, etc.), books on comparative mythology and religion. History books in Spanish, German, Latin, various books in Russian, along with translation dictionaries for the same. For what it's worth, the bottom of the bookcase has closed oaken doors.
Dale gets a couple of glasses that have sort of Arts & Crafts ("leaves n' shit") metal carriers. "Sure, sometimes I sit in...sometimes I'll jam wid' locals. Mostly I see if I can find local talent to play Jazz. I've found a few Russki who seem to have a talent for the Blues. Plenty of Longhair types, too, but they don't like to jam...still, it's fun to play the stuffed shirt stuff from the Great Composers once 'n awhile. But if I wanna hear some decent Stride, I gotta play it myself. And that's Life, ain't it?
You like your tea wid' milk n' sugar, like a Proper Englishman, or jus' wid' sugar like a proper Russki? Or heavily diluted wid' whiskey like a proper Amerikanski?"
"Just plain, please ... like, er, an improper Englishman?
"Hmmm." He chuckles briefly, "I must confess that I'm mostly a fan of the stuffed shirt music..."
A nod at that from Dale...not a surprise, really, but hardly offended. He draws the tea from the Samovar, both are done "neat" except that Dale's glass gets a few stalks of clove in the bottom. He hands you yours and raises his in silent toast and takes a slurp
Redland eye's linger briefly on the books on mathematics, then move to the popular novels, and finally settle on the works on comparative mythology. He looks back over at Dale with some embarrassment.
Dale looks back levelly, having finished off his paper-clip, he puts it aside and picks up an odd pen from the margins of his desk..it's light blue, and shaped as a simple cylinder with a rounded, very short blunt nib built in. Very plain, in fact too plain... there's no hole for the ink to be recharged. He begins to fiddle with it as you speak, his eyes still.
"This is a bit awkward, since I already know your feelings on the matter, but I was wondering if I could ask you some questions regarding summoning Outsiders and whatnot. Knowing myself (as I do), it seems a near certainty that I'm going to ignore your earlier advice (regardless of its wisdom) and push forward in my quest to communicate with the Outsiders."
Dale pulls a slight face- a sideways move out of the corner of his mouth. Disapproval, perhaps. He doesn't speak.
He hesitates briefly, "If you don't want to abet a person doing something of which you obviously disapprove, that's totally reasonable."
He sighs, puts down the pen and takes another slurp of tea. Cradles the glass in his hands. "OK, doc. Ya gotta know that I've walked down that road myself, and I've lost a lot of friends who walked even further down that road. Tha' truth is that I've had plenty of dealin's wid some of those Things. It's kinda hard to be much of a Sorceror widout you deal wid' 'em. The thing is, you gotta play it smart. You choose tha' ones you talk to, careful-like. Use 'em like dynamite..sweaty dynamite at that. There are rules you gotta use when you deal with 'em...not to survive, but to avoid becoming more of a Liability than an Asset. Old 1000-names is one of the most dangerous. The ones from farther out are way more powerful, but he's the one that knows us best. And he don' have our best interest at heart. Never. The big ones are like...a big storm, or a force of Nature. They're way to big to even notice us...though I guess sommathem are close enough to our level to enjoy tearing us apart. Old 1000-names likes to play. And Mortals who play wid' him always gotta come off the worse. "
For a brief moment, it appears that Redland is going to say something, but he remains silent.
Dale looks away out the window at the city, then looks back, his gaze mild. "So, what are you lookin' to accomplish, talkin' to any of 'em- let alone Old 1,000-Names- and don' tell me 'to save the World'. Old 1,000-names wid' just give you the instructions to put it in a bottle so it could age for an eon or two. You gotta deal in tactics as well as strategy if youse gonna win this War...well, not loose it too bad. Specifics."
Redland hesitates again, as if contemplating something, before he speaks. "I don't want to undermine my case too badly before I even begin, but I should let you know that I am almost wholly ignorant in ... well, almost everything, really." He waves a hand, "Even leaving aside the memory issues, I've only been journeying with ... the old philosopher-king since," he thinks for a moment, "mid-December, I guess, and a bunch of that time was lost to some time warp or some blasted thing."
Realizing he's babbling, he pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts.
At that, Dale's expression softens a bit in sympathy...and memory, and he listens. Still fiddling with he pen, but his eyes intent on Redland.
"Anyhow, to make a long story (moderately) short, let it be known that I don't possess an abundance of experience in mystic matters and probably most other things that would be relevant to this end-of-the-world business."
A nod of understanding, now tapping the pen gently on the desk blotter, like a drumstick making very tiny music.
He continues, earnestly, "That being said, I think everyone may be looking at things in the wrong way. What I really want to do, is avert this entire ... war ... incursion ... whatever you want to call it. If we can comprehend what the different groups of Outsiders want, perhaps we can find some way to coexist peacefully with them. It appears that they can't physically manifest here without causing harm to us, but there are other ways we can interact. Many of the Outsiders possess some sort of intelligence. That being the case, it is very likely that we can reach some sort of understanding. Perhaps some of them are malignant, but it seems unlikely that they all are. How could an entire ... race, or whatever they are, be 'evil'. Sure, they probably possess a completely different moral code, or, indeed, an entirely alien way of perceiving the world, but the same could be said of a koala compared to a human.
Dale starts to say something, but refrains, and just nods....
"Now, everyone I've talked to, of course, thinks I'm being hopelessly naive. They may very well be correct. However, I wonder if coming at things from a position of ignorance might not, conceivably, be helpful, in this particular instance. With the vast stores of knowledge available to the King of Life and the King of Fate, it may be that they are blinded by preconceived notions. Everything seems to be cast in terms that are militaristic and antagonistic. I'd like to switch that up and make relations friendly, positive.
A slight narrowing of Dale's eyes, but a slow nod. His body language becomes more engaged- leaning forward, listening actively.
"Now, I don't want to oversell the point," he says, somewhat bashfully, "When all of the experts say you are wrong, well, there's a very good chance you are mistaken. As long as I don't give away anything that's not mine to give, though, the worst that can happen is that I'll get ... used up. Don't get me wrong, I assuredly don't want that to happen. Carl, Henrik, and Rebecca can tell you that 'Danger' is not my middle name. Maybe 'Fleer'? My getting 'used up' is what I see as the worst-case scenario, as long as I'm careful. Even if my best case doesn't come to fruition, maybe I can achieve some intermediate result, such as some friendly Outsiders intervening on our behalf or some reasonable bribe to get some of them to leave us alone.
Still, with eyes narrowed, but another slow nod, considering.
"I guess you asked for specifics. I think that the first thing I need to do is to find some way to interact in a meaningful way with one or more Outsiders. Not just to 'negotiate', but to actively communicate and understand, in some fashion. If they remain completely alien, engagement will not provide the sort of results I'm hoping to achieve. Actually speaking to Outsiders seems a necessary step in this process, though not the only one...
"Sorry, I think I'm kind of rambling here, repeating myself, and all-in-all not explaining myself too well..."
He trails off and takes a sip of tea.
Dale waves off your protestations of rambling. "Ah, yeah. So you see yourself as the Diplomatic-guy for Earth."
Redland sort of shrugs in that palms-up manner that indicates "Eh, fair enough." He has some livid scars on his wrists that become momentarily visible beneath his ill-fitting suit when he makes this gesture.
"Not quite what I was afraid of...but....There are a coupla reasons why I'm a little worried about your plan.
The first is that I've lost a buncha friends and comra...buddies...who spent a lot of time talking to the Elder Gods, and the Outer Ones, and their Servitors. The was trying to learn how to fight 'em. Then they started learnin' how to get more powerful so they could fight 'em. Then they was more interested in just gettin' more powerful. Then some of 'em just wanted to make their new Lords n' Masters happy. Somewhere along the way they end up ins some dank basement guttin' kids and making pretty pictures with the entrails. They went nuts. Cookoo. Off their rockers. and not in a happy way.
And, B, when your friend starts to do stuff like that, you gotta take care of 'em. Put 'em down for good. That's kinda hard on a fellah."
(If Dale is the kind of guy who notices this sort of thing, it becomes apparent that Jack is not big on making eye contact. He'll often look down when speaking or listening, and will, at best, look at a person's mouth)
He pauses, lets that sink in, and continues earnestly, and matter-of-factly, gesturing with his hands. "Now, I'm not sayin' that your plan is gonna end up like that. I like the idea of learning more about or from the Outties. Fresh eyes are good, too. Your right- some of 'em aren't evil..some are so alien that they can't even see us as living creatures. Some are jus'...toxic to our world, or our minds. And some just like the way we taste: our bodies, our fear and pain, our souls. Some may just be hard for us to understand. You may be right...way back, I hunted the occasional vampire: now I have a guest room in the house set up if any visit, an' we're both on the same side. Maybe some of the Outties can be allies. And if your wrong about that, then at least we know more about them, and maybe we find a trick that'll save some lives....Not a Human and a Koala- more like a human an' a germ...an' we're the germs. Still, if the soap scum in my sink started doin' a Busby Berkely dance routine and tryin' ta talk wid me, I wouldn't reach for the carbolic right off."
Redland looks surprisingly heartened by these comments.
He looks Redland flat in the eye and quietly says "You gotta know, Doc. You need to walk carefully here. You gotta know that you'er not only riskin' your life: you're riskin' the lives of your friends, and innocent lives, too. You gotta respect that, an' even if we're on the clock, you gotta stay sharp: before you get used up, worse things can happen... You're way wrong, Doc. You getting used up isn't the worst case. You becomin' a nice, coldly rational, and completely evil Cultie, and skinnin' ladies and babies- and enjoying your work: that's your real worst case scenario." even more quietly "an' mine."
"That's one of the main reasons I figured I should talk to you about this stuff. I want to make sure that I don't do anything stupid ... well, stupider than usual... er, you know what I mean!
A considering nod from Dale, and a an expression that seems to hint at...respect, as well.
"As to the effects of power, I tend to side with Lord Acton in this regard. I wouldn't say that I'm indifferent to the acquisition of power. In fact, I fear it and actively seek not to attain it. This is likely problematic, as it seems probable that somebody will have to wield some power over the course of these strange times. I'd prefer it not to be me, though, which will, I suppose, limit my effectiveness."
Dale smiles slightly at that revelation.
He pauses as if recalling something, "Oh. I should mention that Carl, at some point, authorized me to negotiate on his behalf, which I assume means that I could bargain with things that fall under the domain of the King of Life. I have not done so, nor do I intend to do so in the future, unless he gives me very specific directives on what to do. The scope for screwing things up seems way too vast.
"So, what I'd like to ensure, if possible given that I'm messing with these forces, is that the worst case remains restricted to harm to myself. To that end, I'm generally disinclined to ask for anything when talking to the Outsiders, and I'm unwilling to give away anything except, er, I guess 'pieces' of myself. I'd obviously prefer to avoid that, too, but something has to give, right? Since you've come out at least relatively unscathed, I figured you might be the guy to talk to."
A very quiet sigh from Dale. He pauses a moment, considering, before gong on. Earnest and animated.
"Well, Doc, your dead wrong about you being the wrong guy to wield the power. In fact, if you seemed eager to step up and get power from the Outties...well, let's just say that I'd be redecorating tha' office tommorra. That's the last sortta fellow that you want dealin' w/ the Outties. They'll just screw us all goin' for the main chance." He smiles a bit, but a cold, slightly fearsome sort of smile.
Redland shifts awkwardly, unsure exactly how to take this.
Dale settles in to his points, ticking them off on his fingers. "OK. There are some old ideas that you've gotta start practicin'. You gotta start keepin' a notebook. If you do, you'll be able to get a better handle on what's goin' on. You never do any talkin' wid' the Outties widout some good buddy by your side to keep an eye out for you. In fact, youse gotta let your buddies know what your gonna do, when your gonna do it, and why- every time. Yah, there may be a time when you gotta break that rule, in an emergency. Not gonna be an real emergency very often, will it? Yah know, lives at stake and no way ta talk it over wid your buddies. Maybe they'll talk you outta doing somtin' dumb-assed. Maybe. And youse gotta take better care of youself. You gotta eat regular, get some fresh air, have some laughs once in awhile. Dunnoh what ya like: walk in tha' woods. Chase butterflys. Hunt tigers. Ride tha' Dutch Gal." A grin.
Redland looks a bit confused, but he smiles agreeably.
"Listen to some of tha 'longhair music'...this is a good country for that. Ya gotta do some fun stuff ta keep your mind from fallin' thru a rathole. If you jus'...withdraw from tha Human Race, you'll end up down tha' Rathole. Then, somebody gotta go fish ya out. Or put ya' down."
He winds down for now. "So, whattaya got in mind? Do you know who ya wanna talk to? Or study?"
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention what I'm about to say to anybody (though you can if you like), but I used to be quite diligent at keeping a notebook. Well, multiple notebooks, really. However, since my illness I've had a difficult time writing. I've had a bit of a hard time concentrating, but more significantly, my, er, manual dexterity has declined precipitously. As a side note, this is one of the reasons I want to return to New York. I had taken extensive notes no, well, everything, which were (apparently) lost sometime during my stay there.
"All that being said, I think your advice is good. Secrets have not been good for our little group, and my deteriorating health serves no useful purpose..."
He thinks for a minute.
"Hmmm. As to who I want to talk to, do you know who 'The Lady' is?"
Dale ponders a moment. "Hey, I know lot's of Ladies....someawhich might even be Ladies, if yaknowwhatimean...but I tink, maybe you're talkin' about a Particular Lady."
"Hmmm. Yeah, that was pretty vague. Do you know much about the so-called, er, Principles (with a capital 'p')? The six women who ... represent them in some fashion (though I'm not sure if 'represent' is an accurate description). Or about the (somewhat) recent situation in Bailey?"
Dale nods. "Uh, yeah, I read some of the Prophecy stuff that Carl's got, but it was awhile ago. Principles- check. The six Broads- they don' so much as represent them, they are more like...the physical embodiment of the Principles. They Become the Principles, kinda like the King, uh, I mean an Old time-King, became the land, uh the Kingdom. Yeah, Check!...not sure I've heard anything about Bailey, though.
"Ah, good. It sounds like you know as much, or more, about this than I do. Well, in regards to Bailey, Constance Talmedge, the Principle of Compassion, was based out of that location. Now, this takes place back in December, which is when I first," he waves his hands in an all-encompassing gesture, "found out about all of this stuff. So, my understanding of exactly what happened is incomplete. However, apparently something had gone wrong and she was no longer holding up her end of the bargain to protect the earth (or something along those lines). We traveled there and Carl, Auda, Henrik, Rebecca, and John Elwar confronted her. I was there, too, but I lost my nerve and fled, so I'm a little hazy on the details..." He looks down. "Not my finest moment.
Dale nods, matter of fact, with a slight smile.
"Anyhow, they did something that resulted in the 'destruction' of Constance. Thus, we lost our connection to the Principle of Compassion.
A slight look of surprise crosses Dale's face as he digests this information
"Now, since then I've learned a little more about how this whole 'Principle' thing works. The way I understand it, you have to locate the (unique) 'Agent of Change' and then this person finds one of the potential Principles. Then the Agent makes some sort of bargain with a particular Outsider (in this case 'The Lady') and the Principle becomes 'active'.
A slight hint of puzzled expression from Dale.
"Now, the problem we have, is that Compassion's Agent of Change is dead. Because of this, and because of the shifting nature of their plans, the Kings seem to have abandoned attempts to facilitate the awakening of a new Principle of Compassion.
A nod from Dale
"My thought, is that we can just bypass all of this Principle, Paladin, Agent, etc. stuff and just go right to the source. If the Lady has some sort of connection with the earth, perhaps we can just talk to her directly and ignore the rest of these ceremonial trappings.
"So that's my thought. If I'm going to contact somebody, maybe the Lady would be a good bet."
Dale ponders a moment, and nods to himself. "Well, I ain't no philosopher- king, but I don't actually recall reading anythings about da Principles being Ouitsiders. They're, like, part of da earth. Magical, but not alien to her. Like your immune system being separate from your brain. But still all part of you."
A look flashes across Redland's face, though it's difficult to ascertain what it signifies.
"Outties, well, they are not just magical, and not just monsters- they really don' belong here. They mess ting's up, just being here, and don' get me started on their eattin' habits. The Principles are natural. Even so, contacting The Lady is something that might be worth doing. I just...if it was that easy, why wouold they work through intermediaries? Why the whole Agent o' Change choosin' among tha Cannidates, one of 'em becomin' tha Vessal, embodying the Principle, rigmarole?. Still, worth investigating the idea...but, just 'cause The Lady isn't an Outtie, doesn't mean she isn't dangerous. Neither's a grizzly-bear, but mess wid' one and you can still end-up bear-scat. And, just 'cause you think you're dealin' wid The Lady, don' mean you might not be talkin' to some Outtie in a wig an' dresss. Wise to take your time, and ...precautions."
"One thing I recall Carl telling me is that there is a kind of joke that the being associated with the Principles seems to embody the opposite of its name, which I guess would mean that The Lady has a near complete absence of compassion. So, one possibility is that the whole rigmarole is actually a necessary component in the process, one that ... transforms reality or somesuch.
Dale nods and chuckles at that.
"Alternatively, it could be that the ceremonial trappings are part of a useful past, but have lost their relevance (or even oppose their original intention), kind of like shaking hands to show you don't have a weapon or something... er, assuming that was the origin of shaking hands... Sadly, like everything else it seems, we just don't know that much about how things work."
Dale nods in understanding, but looks a bit skeptical.
Pauses.
"Oh, and when you say 'precautions', what are you referring to?"
Dale swings his legs out from under the desk, gets up and paces for a bit. "Well, Doc, some of that's stuff I already told ya about: you make notes about what you're tryin' ta do, and how you're trying ta do it; ya, make sure you tell yer freind's waht's goin' on." Dale pauses momentarily and considers. "Of course, once ya gets started, it's all Jazz- ya gotta be ready to improvise on the spot, trust your intuition, if the logic of the moment demands it, and suit tha line your followin'. Then, your friend's really should be on hand with plenty of firepower ta take care of stuff if it all goes bad on ya. 'Never Call Up What You Cannot Put Down' is still pretty good advice. Have some guns on hand. Plus, enchanted weapons, if you can- just in case. Make sure you do the deed someplace where you won't be interrupted by Mundanes..or the cops, if you can."
"Then, ya gotta know who you'll be talkin' to, and everything ya' can about what they're like. Are they vulnerable ta anything? What can they do ta you? Does anythings scare 'em off? Blind 'em? Can you confuse 'em? Can they confuse you? Are they invisible? Tha' more ya know, the better armed ya are."
Redland starts to interrupt, but then realizes it's best to keep listening.
He's getting into his stride, gesturing more with his hands, now. "So, ya also gotta know about Wards and Summoning Circles. Heck, basic ritual magic. Ya ever done any chemistry experiments? Well, you want ta control as many variables as ya can when you Summon or Contact. The Circles help with that. You get a clean ritual space widdout too much contamination. Less likely ta get the wrong critter, or confuse the situation. Same ting' wid youse mind: you gotta concentrate on what ya want, and keep tha other thoughts in the background. Start to collect gear ya need for youse ritual, and only use it for that purpose. Protect it. Find gear that...'talks' ta ya, that...resonates wid ya, in a way that helps keep ya on your right mind."
"I'd sort of assumed that anything I summon up could pretty easily wipe the floor with me. Aren't all of these Outsiders (at least the one's intelligent enough that I'd bother trying to communicate with them) considerably stronger than us (or me in particular?)
A brief shake of the head from Dale, but no interruption.
"And how do you know, in general, what you're summoning up? So far, my contact with Outsiders has always been at their discretion. They've been down here and instigated communication with me.
A brief nod in response...
"Er, and I'm afraid I'm completely lacking in knowledge regarding wards, summoning circles, and, indeed, ritual magic entirely. Sorry I'm so ignorant on this stuff... I'm still pretty much aspiring to reach step 1 of the process. It's something that I've discussed with Carl a little bit, but only in pretty broad terms. Unlike a lot of mystical things, this one is not really his cup of tea, I'm afraid. He's often mentioned going to 'the Tower' where they have some sort of summoning room, but we've never really found the time..."
Dale shakes his head, slowly. "Jeez. If your gonna do dis thing, then you gotta know how to do it safely...well, safer. This'll take some time, so don' expect to be doin' a lot too soon." He ponders for a moment. "Well, to begin with, your right that a lot of things Out There are gonna be able to beat you at arm wrasslin': Don't wrassle 'em. Don' play their game, be a tool user. You'd be surprised how many things are vulnerable to a clip of ammo from a .45. Or, better yet, a Tommy Gun. And if that fails, a BAR, or even a lupara loaded with silver and iron shot."
Redland looks a bit confused.
"Jus' gotta be careful with the silver loads if the Ambient gets too hot. It's worth having a buddy nearby who can give you a hand. Then, having a knife or sword that's been enchanted to damage critters is even better.... but that'll cost ya. And the real big, or powerful ones are immune to most of that stuff...well, maybe not the enchanted weapons, but good luck stabbing Ol' Squid-Face- all you can reach is ankles, and he'll tear you to bits before you can get in another cut.. Worst comes, you can blow your own brains outta your own head before it's too late."
Redland makes a mental note here.
"I'll start in teaching ya the ropes on Summoning Rituals and Wards when we get back from the Dead Spot. To start wid, you're right- ya gotta have a good idea of the phone number of the thing your gonna call. Get the best mental image of it that you can. If you know any rituals that'll call it out, use 'em. If you can't research 'em, then at least get to know everything you can about the one you want to call. Keep all the extra...distractions...away from the ritual space- magical, mental, sensory. That's one reason you try and work in teams. Your buddy can watch your back. That's also why you use the Circle. Capice?"
"Yeah, that makes sense. I'm happy to learn all I can. It's always a good thing to know more.
An answering grin from Dale at that.
"Er, I was wondering, you say it's best to kill yourself before it's too late. Can the Outsiders make you do things you don't want to do? That is, can they directly manipulate your brain in some fashion (like I understand can be done by the King of Fate, to some degree), or can they only 'trick' you into becoming their pawn?"
Dawning awareness flows into Dale's face, and he shakes his heads slowly. "Jeez...Carl's been outta tha' Field too long. And I guess tha' old Farquellian Guard is mostly dead, and the Young Turks are kinda spread thin." Dale looks Redlands directly in the eye "Some can absolutely fool you into being a pawn- Ol' Thousand-Names is the best example. Think of him as 'Old Scratch'...know anything about Vudun? Ever heard of Legbah? Anyway, that's one sort- the games-player, the manipulator, the Tempter."
From Redland's face, it doesn't appear that he knows these other guys.
"Then, there's the other kind- they can, absolutely, mess with your mind. They can change the way you think. Get you to play fr their team, and make you think it's the most natural thing in the world.Some of them are able to control your mind...say the Nightsiders are one example...others are not so much trying to maniplate you, it's just the way they warp reality, and the way we respond...The King of Fate, though, he doesn't so much mess with your mind, he changes your Fate...deeper than the mind... So yeah, you wanna be prepared to off yourself, both for your own sake, as well as for your buddies, and for the World itself. "
"I had not realized the Nightsiders had that sort of power. Would the Fae also be in this camp? Is there any way to protect yourself from this, other than laying low or committing violence?"
Jack considers for a moment.
"Hmmmm. The King of Fate. I trust that guy as far as I can throw him. Would methods that protect me from 'Outside' influences, if any exist, also protect me from Theo?
"Now, with the 'Tempters', it would seem that I just need to be on my guard. One presumes they are more cunning than I am, but it seems that defense would be much simpler than in the case of those who can directly influence."
