Does Reading Pollute Young Minds?

[Glenn]

Books. Very few things had shaped the life of the youthful Governor of Myrken Wood quite as much. As a child, sold to a twisted, controlling clergy, he spent his days taught and raised to bureaucratic cog in their theocratic regime. It was through books that he learned of a greater world, of heroism and freedom and things worth fighting for. Those lessons drove him to escape, to find a life of his own. They also drove him into a universe of darkness and pain, to a binding of another sort, and then eventually, as if emerging from a cave only to find the light you had been crawling towards was a raging inferno of blistering death and destruction, to Myrken Wood.

He did not blame the books, nor their authors. There were far better targets. There were ALWAYS far better targets. In Myrken, the targets practically lined up. Aeryn Karolinger was one. Pompous, selfish, blind to the emotions of those around him, immature. A stalwart friend, a man who could speak for the people, who would help someone rise to their potential. Aeryn Karolinger had been a complicated man. He had risen high and fallen so much farther, and when it seemed as if he could fall no more, he surprised everyone by returning, possessed, maligned and transformed by dark gods, empowered.

And so he was dealt with. Burnie had been hands off on the matter, just pushing agents of his reign here or there, indirectly affecting things, bringing things to a head. He had good reason to avoid Karolinger, but also not to ignore him. That hadn't gone well for Helstone. Not well at all. In the end, despite his bluster, his ability to survive, his status as a man of action, Aeryn Karolinger had ultimately been a pawn. The Eight. Had they preyed upon him, taken control of his broken mind and spirit or had he come to them, a supplicant, a man with nothing to lose, whose tied had all burnt to ash, seeking a way back to a life with meaning?

In the end, it didn't matter. Karolinger was gone now. Whether this was a Thessilanian trap or a trap set for Thessilane did not matter either. Karolinger was gone. The Eight remained. This book, this dark grimoire sent by the Thessholes to HELP them fight the Eight, seemed to be the key to everything. It could seal them. It could release them. It could destroy them, or destroy all of Myrken.

Oh, Glenn had an archmage for such things, so much as the government of Myrken ever had such a man, but Aleksei had first been overwhelmed by chance and circumstance (or the subtle manipulations of the Book) and then, in striking down Karolinger, by the darkness itself. He was too close, too powerful. And really, why not Burnie? If a man was to declare a duel with young Glenn, his immense skill with the rapier would not be the truest weapon he could choose. No, it would be knowledge, wit, cunning... a book. Information was Glenn Burnie's ultimate weapon and here he was, ready to duel against Dark and Ancient Beings. It may not have been what he was born for, but it was certainly what he had lived to become. His soul dangled within him by a string, protected save for the smallest of leaks by the spiritual might left behind by Lamai. Who else but him for this exact danger?

"Magic." So far as opening gambits went, this one, in the very center of the previously sealed chamber of the Meetinghouse, was not entirely dignified. A spit. Upon the floor next to the table the book rested upon. He did not mince even a little with his feelings. "No offense. Not much." Then a little pause as he looked to the scarred girl, the only other occupant in the room with him. The scarred young woman, though not hardly a lady. "I consider whatever you have to be more along the lines of carefully focused 'power.' There's a distinction." She tattooed her own body, and don't think he didn't have some idea when a new one appeared, at least one that was visible to him or others. Niall was a threat. A huge threat. Perhaps others didn't see it due to her age, due to her previous affiliation with Kyra, the blind patronizing magus who had seen them all as her sheep to guide and protect. She was uncontrollable, impossible to influence. That she was here with him now was a testament to how desperate he was, desperate and convincing.

Aleksei had unsealed the room, and then was encouraged to leave, something he had already previously agreed to. Agnieszka Kaczmarek was watching the door, something she had previously agreed to. Niall was there with him. Typical Governor Burnie arrangements. Ducks in a row. "So then," his most charming smile, specifically for the one female in this world most likely to glower at it. "Let's begin our reading."

[Jirai]

Frequently throughout her short life, Niall has found herself in places she never expected to be. Alone in a room with Glenn Burnie, helping the Governor, was certainly one of those places. She had her own reasons for being here, of course, else she simply would not have come, but still. The helping Glenn Burnie part stuck in her throat a bit.

The girl stood quietly beside the governor, scarred face impassive. Tattooes, intricately connected, writhed from her hands up her arms, disappearing beneath the sleeveless leather vest she wore. They circled her neck and lower, the rest hidden by clothing. For the moment, they were quiescent. That would change, soon. "If your distinctions make you feel better, you are welcome to them." She did not see the difference herself, nor did she much care. "This will be easier if I touch you." Easier to ward the man, that was, while he read his book.

[Glenn]

Ah, lovely. This is where Niall turns him into a frog or just blows him up. He'd hold his arm out to her and then BOOM. Just like that. But she wouldn't. Too much effort. Too much of a headache. Wasted motion. More trouble than it was worth. It wasn't hard to understand some aspects of the scarred girl. She was a survivor. He had been one. Different circumstances, different stakes. When you're a survivor, you don't waste effort for scant reason. Even here pointless, pampered amongst apes, as Niall must feel herself.

So yes, he'd all but nudge her back behind him with his body language. She could look over his shoulder. She could watch his back. One hand would loosen his collar, giving her a part of his shoulder to touch if she so desired (or to choke him outright, if that was what she really wanted). "Whenever you're ready." And then, with a smile she could not see, he opened the book.

[Jirai]

If Niall knew how well Glenn Burnie understood her, she would doubtless find it exceptionally irritating. She did not, though, and so the man stayed at the level of basically irritating.

Niall had no problem staying behind the Governor - reading the book wasn't her job, after all (though she was a bit curious, especially after having read the information Glenn had given her the previous day). So she stood just behind him and reached out to touch his shoulder, skin to skin. Choking him would be nice, but she resisted the urge. There would be no pain for the man at the touch, for she was bringing him inside her own defenses. This, of course, had the unfortunate side effect of leaving herself vulnerable to the man, but that was the price to be paid. Now, when her tattooes flared to life, the faint glow would encompass the Governor as well.

Time to read.

[Vanidor]

The tome is not, in any real way, overly insidious. Not now that It's task has been accomplished and someone set free the Curse within. Yet it is still an evil thing, vile even. The cover of the book is leathery, soft and browned by age, and some of the scroll work upon it bear perhaps an eerie similarity to that which writhes its way across Niall's skin. The bindings, which creak but slightly at the opening, are made from the sinews of intelligent folk. Human. Elf. Orc.

The lettering is done in a faded, rusty-iron looking ink, and the words... The words adjust. There is something about the book, even now and here, despite all that has been done to it since coming to Myrken, that says READ. Whatever tongue and languages Glenn may know, this is what the book shifts too. Changing from the dark and daemonic (and yet celestial) script that had presented itself when Aleksei had perused it, to the common script (and others as well).

Read Me. Here. I shall even make it easier to do so.

Not every line, however, undergoes this transformation. Something to be seen if one were to flip through the book in order to peruse. Those arcane statements remain in whatever ancient script first wrote them. Still. There is much here to behold. Lines and Lines. Suggestions and desires.

Ways to restore the soul. How to destroy them. Rituals to bind and enhance. Stories of ancient wars between the High Heavens and the Nine Hells. Tales of the various Dark Gods and their servants. Colloquial names for these entities, there are four of them that are 'supreme' in their own little spheres. Each have ritual numbers and sacraments.

Whatever Glenn was looking for here, if it is about the Eight and It's nature. It is here. Just as the Eight has been here. Just as their Master will always be.

[Glenn]

"Information," Glenn began as he read, and really, this would be a wonderful time to somehow end the threat of Niall once and for all. Unfortunately, there were more pressing matters. Unfortunately, he came into this in good faith, and despite what everyone thought, the Governor tended to keep his word, except for when he couldn't, of course, but those times were few and very definitive. "is a weapon. Like magic is a weapon. It's neither good nor bad." Niall could tell what was coming. She'd dealt with it before, but not for a long time. Glenn intended to monologue.

"Magic is power, which corrupts. Which has a cost. There's always a cost with magic. Information has a cost too. It hinders freedom. Ignorance is not just bliss, Niall," to make sure she was paying attention, "but it is also a certain freedom. For the ignorant, information does not direct you into one decision or another, does not guide your hand or limit your options. You can grasp a simple truth far more easily. It's a fallacy though. Ignorance is not, in and of itself, freedom, unless it is TOTAL ignorance." Had she any idea what she was witnessing? He was speaking to her, but more than that, he was speaking to the tome. His eyes continued to stare at it, even as he turned pages, even as he tortured poor Niall with far too many words, even as he fought a private battle that she very likely couldn't see.

There was no smile upon his face now. "Only with total ignorance has some form of information not entered in to create bias. The truly simple may have this, but even then, there are wants and needs and desires. Even they cannot escape sensation and stimuli. Information. Therefore, no one can reach this total level," and thus he had reached his initial point, yes: initial point. "And therefore, there's no point in trying.

"The only other possibility, the only other way to ensure some freedom in this world is to know as much as possible, to create as many options, as many possibilities as possible. Part of that is learning how to handle it all. Information that closes a door can open two others. Something that should FORCE you in one direction can show you six other ways you could go." The speed of his words was increasing now. There was something downright manic about him.

Manic and wild, yet disciplined as could be. "The book can't tempt me with magic or power, so it's trying to use information. Aren't you? Overwhelm me, force me to make the wrong decision, force my future decisions to be wrong, to be shaped by the information you've given me here, to shut all my doors save for the ones you want me to go through. It doesn't work that way, though. Not with me. Information is just that, information." He wasn't writing anything down. He didn't need to. He didn't dare to. Someone else might not be able to handle this. It could be letting poison out into the world. No, what he read, would stay with him. The words slowed as he turned pages, whipping his eyes over one passage and then the next.

"The more you give me, the more I can reshape it, reshape your desires into a wholly different reality. What do you know of me?" What did the book know of Glenn Burnie who swam through his best friend's thoughts, through millennia of the Ashfiend's memories that besieged them, who learned to crawl through dreams so that he would never be victimized, whose mind was broken again and again and again until it became strong and hard and tough as leather, who spent a month in Underdark, who lost his soul, and who gained so much more. "You're wrong, and it'll be the end of everything that matters to you."

With a final exhale, he turned a page and lifted his head, staring at the ceiling. Sweat was running down his face and sweat never ran down the face of Glenn Burnie anymore, yet there it was. He let out a little laugh, more exasperated than manic and stretched his neck to the right causing it to crack, just a little. "That was... quite the chapter, Niall."

[Jirai]

Glenn Burnie is as much a creatutre of many words as Niall is a creature of no words. Most of them flow over the girl in an overwhelming wave - all the more so since most of her attention is focused on the defenses she is maintaining around the two of them, monitoring the construct constantly for the tiniest of flaws which could, if left untended, shatter the whole thing. Some words, however, find a place in her mind. Possibilities. A truth, in that barrage of words. One Niall had always known, the foundation for everything. Perhaps the only truth. But still...

"...Are you done talking yet?"

[Glenn]

"I do need to breathe sometime." It was the truth. Glenn had incredible lung strength, which had saved him from being choked to death a few times (perhaps that was why he gave Niall his throat so readily), but even that has limits. "I might start again when I hit chapter two, though." Evil book, after all. Or maybe it was all in his head, but ultimately, it didn't matter. THAT was one lesson Glenn Burnie had learned well this last year. The truth mattered, yes, but results mattered so much more. "Which, dear Niall, is now." He was glad she was there. An audience. A witness. Someone to blow it all up if it went wrong. Myrken needed all of those things, and most of all... moral support.

He turned the page once more and started to read anew.

[Vanidor]

Glenn spoke of Truth and of Knowledge. Of Information and seeking it for it's own sake, in order to broaden horizons and meld reality. And so the Book... Well. It was odd how the book shaped itself to the needs of the one who read it. Aleksei had needed a way to contain and control. Those secrets had been, and still were, buried beneath the layers of filth that were scribbled upon the leathery, ancient parchment. Before, the second chapter had been about methods to summon and bind, the true meat beyond the introductory pages that were, barring slight changes, similar in each instance.

Here it was rituals and incantations that WOULD alter reality. That would allow a man of Singular Will to adjust the area around him in order to suit his needs. Want a perfectly ordered society. Yes. We could do that. Just... Read. Allow the Words to seep past the arcane defenses and permeate into the mind. Maybe say some things out loud that your companion would like. Power was available and at your fingertips. Just... Read.

There was no (overt) desire within the book to push Glenn in any direction. Just as long as he MADE a decision. Do. Or do not. But please try. Just peruse the pages and speak the words. Oh. And here, indeed, amongst these pages are ways to destroy the very thing he was holding, to send the intelligence bound within the pages back to the abyss where it came from. It would be easy, as long as you let down those defenses, and just tell Niall a story.

As for those defenses, there was something that should be mentioned. However far around the two of them they extended, and to the bindings set into the wall by Aleksei, the output of the book could be now seen. It is in the pallid light, a somber ocher that stained the walls despite it being where it was. There as well, in the light sheen of frost starting to form on everything within the storage room. Faces appear upon the panels of what bare walls there are, momentary fragments of men and women and... THINGS... that just want to say Hello, before they sink back into the wood.

[Glenn]

Burnie's peripheral vision shifted here and there, but really, there were other, more important things to focus upon. His eyes glinted with something, a spark. He licked at his lips ever so slightly. "In five years, FIVE YEARS, of being in Myrken Wood, I think I've come across the only accommodating thing to ever end up here." Well, Niall while a chocolate addict was pretty damn accommodating too, but best not to bring that up right now. They were such a wonderful team after all. A young man and his scarred, tattooed, grumpy, hateful mage. A Myrken match made in heaven.

"I feel like we ought to frame it. How do you frame a book? Would you like that? Can I turn the page here and find detailed instructions perhaps?" There was a weight pressing against him, a subtle thing, and Glenn knew it well. He knew it and he was more than happy to press back. "No, no. That'll hardly do. Books will never be your best friend, Niall." He jumped from talking to the book to talking back to her. "They can offer you information, endless emotion, but never understanding. You understand them, and through them yourself, yes, but they will never understand you."

A little sigh as he shook his head down at the tome. "I'm feeling in a giving mood," especially due to what he was feeling the urge to do. "So I'll help bridge the gap. It's been all take take take so far, after all." The words just kept coming from his mouth, even as he read on. "It defeats the entire damn purpose to CHEAT. And that's what all these little spells are. They're cheating. A shortcut, and the entire point of changing reality, of shaping your world, of making things better is in the journey. If I were to give my people gold and jewels and peace right now, they would turn to infighting and strife. Greed and chaos would rule. Brother would kill brother over the most petty reasons, not that they don't now, of course, but it'd be all the more frustrating for the glitter and wealth, you see. They have to earn it, we all do." And most of all, Burnie would KNOW that he hadn't done it through his own wit and cunning. That was the very worst part of magic. IT deserved the credit, not you. "So, this is what I think of that." Another spit, this time closer to the book. "Cheating is only worth it when it's half clever, and THAT is not.'

He rose a hand, pausing before turning the next page. "Still, you are trying so hard to be helpful, and I shant frown upon that, spit upon it, perhaps, but never frown" his voice became more demonstrative. "Odd pages, continue telling me the stories of the bastard gods, all of that tricky useful stuff you're going to have me accidentily damn myself and Myrken with, but stay on task, if you please. EVEN pages, hmm.. Let's see, an sardonic history of channelers, the life story of Gad Phuri, the recipe for that spiced cake that the asshole monks who raised me used to make (not that I'm going to EAT it, both due to bad memories tied to sensory keys and that it'd probably be evil spiced cake, but I always was curious), something swashbuckling about pirates and monkeys for Niall, and, oh, why not, naked pictures of six titted teahouse girls in awkward poses, and, let's see, every fetching female in Myrken Wood whose name begins with A. It's the most orderly way to do it, after all." Nothing to do with any particular ones. Just alphabetical, after all.

Then, sternly. "All on the same ninefold dammed page."

[channe]

Agnieszka Kaczmarek does not like this.

She does not like this at all. It's obvious from her face. The pinched, slightly apoplectic look gives it away.

But she's standing outside anyway, tense to the hair's-breadth, guarding the door. She would do no less for Glenn Burnie, of course.

[Caile]

No one had ever accused her of being wise. Smart, yes, intelligent even and at times she could be clever but wise was not on the list of things people would ever say about her. This was proved time and time again and was about to be proved once more as she passed by the meeting house on her way to one errand or another and spotted Agnieszka standing disgruntled outside the barred door. She knew what was inside that building and knew that the chairwoman would have no reason to stand outside in such a pinched manner unless someone was attempting to read that book again. And this is where that lack of wisdom shows for instead of doing the wise thing and staying far away after what had happened the last time she approached the annoyed looking woman with exagerated insouciance, a casual wave and nod of her head in greeting. She was at least wise enough to not act drunk.

"Howdy." A greeting as casual and relaxed as the wave she had given and she only stops moving when she is close enough to lean against the wall of the building.

[Jirai]

"I thought you were here to read, not to babble incessantly." The girl grumbled under her breath. Glenn would hear perfectly well though, not matter how quietly she spoke, what with her being so close behind him. Really, by this point she was rather tuning out the ceaseless stream of nonsense emenating from the governor, somewhat tempted to simply release her hold and leave. Glenn Burnie really was an ass. But no, that didn't really fit with her newly-formed plans, as initially pleasing as it might be.

Glenn Burnie talked at the book. Niall looked past it, where the cobalt light of her own defenses met ocher. Frost and faces. Interesting.

[channe]

This is not happening.

Agnieszka eyes Renea as she closes in, and switches her balance -- her slouch becomes straight, and her eyes darken a little. Bright damn it -- was she that transparent? "Renea," she says, warmly. "Just the person I wanted to talk to. And when I say 'wanted to talk to,' I mean later, in the tavern, over cider. Skedaddle."

Her smile is actually quite kind, but the tone incurs warning. A warning Renea would be wise to keep.

[Caile]

Wise. There was that word again. True to the previously noted lack of wisdom Renea doesn't seem inclined in the slightest to take such a warning to heart, in fact if anything she appears to be settling in even more, almost as if she hadn't noticed any such warning.

"I've got some time, we can cover it now." It wasn't so much that Agnie was transparent as that there was no other reason for her to be standing outside this particular building. What Renea was doing was cruel and she knew it but she couldn't bring herself to stop, she just had to push those buttons. She crossed her arms, crossed one leg over the other with her foot canted to rest on the toe of her boot, lazy and relaxed, certainly not planning on moving anywhere anytime soon.