Omen 107: Boiling Pots
Transcript & Credits
Narrator: Omen is intended for an adult audience. The story explores mature themes and contains instances of dramatized violence. Full transcripts of each episode can be viewed at omen cast dot com.
SCENE 1
[[SFX: magical humming, sea ambience, crew shouting, creaking planks]]
Wisp: [[humming a sea chantey]]
[[SFX: footsteps on wooden planks]]
Rawlins: Fog's rolling in, Wisp. Arlif fears a storm's coming.
Wisp: You're to be resting, Rawlins. Captain's orders. [[resumes humming]]
Rawlins: There ain't no rest to be found in this place. Ain't natural, that light.
Wisp: [[with an edge]] You got something to report, Rawlins?
Rawlins: [[under breath]] It's the men, Wisp. Those that manage to sleep… they do so in a fit. Thrashing about in their hammocks only to wake screaming minutes later.
Wisp: [[bitter]] Haunted by memories of the previous captain, I'll wager.
Rawlins: Worse even! These nightmares… they're all of a similar portent! Visions of black wings… the seas turning to blood…
Tillie: [[calling]] Eyes abeam to starboard!
Wisp: [[dismissive]] Portents, indeed! There, you see? Right on time. [[squinting]] Hrm… [[calling]] What d'you make of it, Tillie?
Tillie: [[calling]] First Mate's resurfaced! Might be we've got an injury! Got someone in a rescue hold, towing 'em to the skiff!
Wisp: [[calling]] Is it the Captain?
Tillie: [[calling]] Can't tell! Looks to be some raven-haired woman!
Wisp: [[to self]] Who in Hell is that!? [[shouting]] Hoy there! First Mate! [[pause]] I say, hoy there! Lola! Throw you a line there?
Rawlins: [[anxious]] What's she doing? Why doesn't she answer?
Wisp: [[gruff]] Stow it, you! [[calling]] Tillie! Have the others breached?
Tillie: [[calling]] None that I can see! Updates as they come, Bosun!
Wisp: [[to self]] Hrm… And I thought today couldn't get any stranger.
Rawlins: Lola's acting Navigator, yeah? And the new Quartermaster's that Eagle Knight fellow what ran the moot?
Wisp: [[gruff]] And? What of it?
Rawlins: That leaves command to you, Wisp.
Wisp: [[annoyed]] Are you blind, boy? First Mate's right there.
Tillie: [[calling]] Sails to starboard!
Wisp: You see? She's coming aboard so you can pester her with your… [[trails off]] What in the-- [[shouting]] Oi! Lola! Where d'you think you're going!?
Tillie: [[calling]] Skiff's bearing north by northwest!
Rawlins: [[alarmed]] Oh Gods! She's leaving us behind!
Wisp: [[calling]] Raise anchor! Dip oars and ready the mooring line!
[[SFX: crew shouting, gears turning]]
Rawlins: What are you doing!? We cannot give chase with the rigging up!
Wisp: We ain't chasing her, you idiot! We make for that fell light.
Rawlins: What!? Why?
Wisp: The Captain, you fool! If she and her lot manage to make it back… [[ominous]] then we're their only bloody hope!
[[SFX: INTRO MUSIC]]
SCENE 2
[[SFX: jungle ambience, buzzing insects, screeching birds]]
Quent: [[alarmed]] Toby? What's going on?
Gwen: [[wary]] What is this place? And who are you?
Man: [[sweetly]] You must be Quentin! And I'll guess… Gwendolyn, yes? It's so lovely to meet you both. Tobias has told me so much about your little group. Won't you please join us?
Toby: [[monotone, thickly]] We're having a party.
Quent: [[angry]] What's the matter with him? Toby! What did he do to you?
Man: There's no need to wave that stick about, my boy. We're all friends here.
Gwen: If that's true, then you won't mind ending your charm spell. That is what you're doing to him, isn't it?
Man: [[laughs]] My! But you are clever, aren't you? If it helps ease the mood, then certainly!
[[SFX: inverted whoosh]]
Toby: [[alarmed, breathless]] Whoa!
Gwen: [[concerned]] It's alright, Toby! We're here!
Toby: [[confused]] Yeah, I… I remember everything. [[realization]] Hey! This creep was rummaging around in my brain! He made me follow him down here!
Man: Oh come now, Tobias. I merely expedited your curiosity.
Toby: [[disgusted]] What is it about today and running into naked people? Seriously--put on some pants! You owe me that much, at least.
Man: [[mock pouting]] Hmph. You're no fun at all!
Gwen: Oh, that's right! Sir, we found your… companion in the upper caverns. She's unconscious but still breathing. We left our friend with her.
Man: [[coy]] I can't say I know of this "companion" to which you're referring. I do hope she is alright.
Toby: Oh, come on! Two naked people in the same weird cave system can't be a coincidence!
Man: Stranger things have happened. However, this "friend" you mentioned… That wouldn't happen to be this "Lola" troublemaker you were telling me about, would it Tobias? A pity she couldn't join us.
Quent: [[threatening]] Alright, buddy. You already know all of our names, including those of us who aren't even here. So who in Hell are you?
Man: [[amused]] So aggressive! Tell you what. If I share my name with you, will you agree to join me in a little game? It's been so long since I've mingled with your kind. And it will certainly be more pleasant here with me than wandering these pustule-infested jungles.
Gwen: [[wary]] I'm afraid we have to get back. We've already lingered here longer than we had planned.
Man: Ah, but time moves more slowly here at the nexus! I'm told an hour down here amounts to mere minutes on the surface.
Toby: [[suspicious]] The "nexus", huh? I presume you're referring to this weird pool of water you've led me to?
[[SFX: magical humming]]
Man: Oop! But I've already gotten ahead of myself! Apologies, friends. I'm positively giddy with anticipation! Oh, what you must think of me!
Toby: I think you're purposefully ignoring my request to put on some clothes.
Quent: I think you're a liar… and this is some kind of trap.
Gwen: Well, that certainly isn't a pool of water. And if it's what I think it is, then that might explain how this jungle came to be.
Man: [[excited]] Ooo! Now we simply must have a sit down!
Gwen: [[stern]] Only after you've dispelled this portal.
Man: [[mock disappointment]] Oh, if only I could! I'm not exactly… allowed to, you see. But there's no need to fret--
[[SFX: knocking on glass]]
Man: You see? It's shut tightly, and quite stable. Been here for years, in fact. [[condescending]] I promise I won't let you fall in.
Quent: Okay, I think we're done here. Time to go, guys.
Man: [[warning]] You should know I've been instructed to… "dispose" of anything that manages to make its way down here. But that doesn't seem very hospitable, don't you agree? Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement?
Toby: [[thoughtful]] Hmm… [[nonchalant]] Okay, I'll bite.
Gwen: [[indignant]] Toby! He kidnapped you!
Toby: [[impatient]] Yes, Gwen. And now we're negotiating to keep from being attacked by a naked man. Besides, aren't you two even a little curious?
Man: [[pleading]] Yes! Come, Gwen! Come and play with us!
Toby: [[wary]] Not so fast. Whatever this game is, I want to play for information and safe passage out of these caves.
Man: Ah! What an excellent idea! What say you, friends?
Quentin: [[disgruntled]] This feels like all kinds of bad ideas.
Gwen: Hmm. But if this portal has been here as long as he claims, then--theoretically--there would be some time distortion. [[sigh]] Alright. I suppose we can stay for a short while.
Man: [[giddy]] Oh, huzzah! [[baiting]] Quentin?
Quent: [[frustrated sigh]] This is so incredibly stupid.
Man: [[excited]] I'll take that as a "yes"! Well--first things first--allow me to welcome you all to what I have affectionately christened the "Somal Caves". It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?
Toby: [[suspicious]] Right. And you are?
Man: [[off-handedly]] Torn.
Gwen: [[confused]] Between what?
Man: No, dear. That's my name. Torn.
Quent: [[pressing]] Torn--?
Torn: Just Torn. Though I suppose I should have an impressive title, hmm? How about "Torn: Keeper of the Somal Gate". [[chuckles]] Yes, I like that.
Gwen: [[wary]] And what exactly is it that you do down here, Torn? Besides keeping this "gate", as you put it.
Torn: Ah, ah, ah! But we're getting ahead of ourselves! Though now that we've all been properly introduced, I must admit that I am shirking my duties quite badly at the moment. It's just so boring down here, you see. You can't imagine how grateful I am for your company! [[chuckles]] Another few years and I do believe I'd have gone completely mad! [[unsettling laughter]]
Toby: [[disturbed]] Uh huh. [[renewed interest]] So! What sort of game did you have in mind? Chess? Or perhaps a good old-fashioned riddle exchange?
Torn: Oh, dear! I do hope you won't be too disappointed, but I find logic and puzzle games so… predictable, so… finite. I much prefer pastimes that require a certain level of creativity from their players.
Quent: [[snorts]] Why? Afraid Toby would beat you too easily?
Torn: [[laughs]] Oh, my poor deluded boy! Not even in the slightest!
Toby: [[offended]] Hmph. Sounds scared to me.
Torn: [[amused]] You realize, Tobias, I've already been through your mind. Not deep enough to comb through memories, mind you. But even still--there isn't a problem you could present to me that I couldn't solve using your own line of reasoning.
Gwen: Are you saying we've already lost whatever game you're suggesting?
Torn: Not at all! There are games of chance, of course. And then there are the sort of games I love most--storytelling contests! This game just so happens to combine both elements!
Quent: [[confused]] You want us to… tell stories to you!?
Torn: In exchange for answers to your questions, yes!
Gwen: I've never heard of a game like this.
Torn: Well where I come from, we have quite the delightful one called "Yarns", in which dice with tiny pictures on their surfaces are cast. These symbols then prompt the caster to make up a story based on the theme of the round. Here, I'll show you.
[[SFX: dice clattering on stone]]
Quent: Hold on… these are anec-dice! This "Yarns" game of yours is just a simpler version of "Boiling Pots"!
Torn: Simpler, perhaps--but better! And I guarantee you "Yarns" came first!
Toby: I don't like the sound of this. Games like these require an impartial judge to be fair. And you obviously don't want to just give us information--
Torn: Oh, but I do! And I pray the entertainment you offer is worthy of the answers I guard. But if you still doubt my motivations, these are no mere "anec-dice" as Quentin calls them. They are enchanted, to which I'm sure Gwendolyn will attest. Enchanted with spells which make it quite impossible for the caster to speak anything but the truth. Myself included.
Quent: How dumb do we look to you? You really think we'd fall for this--
Gwen: [[interrupting]] They are enchanted. With… a permanent zone of truth! Though… it's so concentrated. I take it the black die belongs to the judge?
Torn: Very clever! Yes, I shall cast the arbiter's die once per round, which renews my vow to answer up to three questions for each of your stories!
Toby: Ah, so they only work after they've been rolled. [[suspicious]] What are these dice made of, by the way?
Torn: [[dismissive]] Hmm? Oh--bone, I believe. [[hurriedly]] All right then! It seems providence has smiled upon us, because "Yarns" has exactly three rounds--one for each of you. They are called "How Did You Come to Be?", "How Did You Come to Love?", and "How--
Quent: [[interrupting]] "How Did You Come to Die". Yeah, this is exactly like "Boiling Pots".
Torn: Well then… since you're such a seasoned veteran, Quentin, perhaps you'd care to go first? Go on and choose at least one die to roll!
[[SFX: dice fall into felt bag and are shaken]]
Gwen: Hold on! We haven't been told all the rules yet!
Quent: It's pretty easy to pick up, Gwen. Just watch me.
Toby: Gwen's right. There could be loopholes to this game I haven't figured out how to exploit yet.
Quent: [[impatient]] Look, it's simple. The first story is usually about a birth, a coming-of-age, a journey, a fable… The second is typically about a first kiss, a lost love, a lewd joke--whatever. The third story can describe a gruesome death or something creepy--they're all pretty interchangeable. Points are added or subtracted based on how many of the anec-dice symbols you can integrate into your story. There--did I miss anything?
Torn: [[amused]] I couldn't have said it better myself, dear boy. How many dice will you take?
[[SFX: rummaging in dice bag]]
Quent: Three's the maximum, right?
Torn: Indeed it is. Are you ready? [[reciting]] Then I, as Arbiter, do hereby swear to award one truth per die cast… or none, should the tale be judged unworthy.
[[SFX: single die cast]]
Quent: [[wary]] And what do you get if my story is judged as "unworthy"?
Torn: [[sinister]] Hmm… Then I think I should enjoy seeing you… [[giddy]] give Gwen here a little kiss! Wouldn't that be sweet?
Gwen: [[miffed]] Here now! What's this?
Toby: [[laughs]] And here I was worried you were going to make him gouge out one of his eyes or something!
Torn: [[mock insult]] Oh don't be so melodramatic, Tobias. It's just a silly party game.
Quent: I agree to the terms.
Gwen: [[affronted]] Quentin!
Quent: Don't worry. The guards play "Boiling Pots" all the time down at the Aerie.
[[SFX: three dice cast]]
Torn: [[excited]] Ah! The Fortress, the Babe, and the Skull! You have one minute to concoct your story!
Quent: [[surprised]] I… think I already know one!
Toby: [[impressed]] Ho ho! Quent's coming for you, Torn!
Torn: [[excited]] Excellent, excellent! What do you call this yarn?
Quent: [[dramatic]] The Ghost of Rosala Keep.
Toby: Ooh! This is a good one!
Torn: [[interrupting, harshly]] No interruptions! [[sweetly]] Please--continue.
Quent: [[clears throat]] Well… there's a rumor told in the foothills surrounding Westcrown. It isn't really spoken much closer to the old capital of Cheliax. I'm guessing this is because reciting the story within the city proper is a great way to attract unwanted attention. As in, "someone finds your body floating off of Midpier" kinds of attention. So, as with most forbidden knowledge, this particular rumor eventually passed into local myth… and then legend.
You see, there's an old abandoned keep on the eastern bank of the River Adivian. On clear days, you can still see it towering over the pines on the edge of Hagwood Forest. I hesitate to call it a ruin exactly, as its black stones reflect the noonday sun as if newly polished. But despite its pristine condition, nobody dares to take up residence or even claim the land on which it sits.
The keep was at one time the seat of power for House Rosala--now one of the most powerful families under House Thrune. This was in the days before Infernal Cheliax had been reforged from the Old Empire. But even back then, Duchess Rosala was an early adopter of the then-novel trend of calling and cavorting with the denizens of Hell.
The Duchess could see that the Chelaxian Empire would not stand intact for much longer. She became obsessed with securing as much power for herself and her House as possible before the inevitable collapse. So Duchess Rosala set to drawing up plans for an impregnable fortress, a sanctuary that would shelter her heirs for a thousand generations. But mere gates and ramparts were never enough for the power-crazed Matron. So she decided to take her aspirations to the next level… by bargaining with unholy monsters for an indestructible keep imbued with dark magics.
But, of course, Duchess Rosala wasn't content to treat with just any devil. She set her sights on creatures whom she considered her equals, both in power and intellect… the Infernal Dukes. These Lords of Hell are the most powerful and dangerous demigods of their realm, second only to Asmodeus himself. It didn't take long before her appeals were answered. Lord Malthus had been watching Duchess Rosala plan and scheme from his own fortress-tower in the third ring of Hell. And the Infernal Duke took a keen interest in her keep. So one foggy night, Malthus the Many-Beaked visited the Duchess--
Toby: [[interrupting]] The "Many-Beaked"? [[chuckles]] That's not scary!
Torn: [[furious]] Silence, fool! [[clears throat]] [[cordial]] Apologies, Quentin. Please do go on! You were saying? Malthus the Many-Beaked?
Quent: [[put off]] Yeah… He's got like… five of them, I think. Don't ask me where but… well, there you go. [[clears throat]] So anyway, one foggy night Malthus deemed to answer the call of Duchess Rosala, demanding, "Why do you vex me, mortal? What trifle would you dare to request?" And the Duchess replied, "Wise and mighty Malthus, I wish to raise a great fortress to my House--one that shall stand for all time as a testament to my power and, of course, to your everlasting name."
Malthus smiled at this, for he was well-versed in the craft of architecture and took delight in the quaint designs of men. "You shall have a keep of living stone," Malthus cackled. "Neither moss nor vine shall mar its surface, and even the greatest siege engines shall be unable to breach its walls. Its foundations shall extend from the roots of Golarion itself so that the greatest sapper will be unable to undermine its perimeter. And should such a weapon ever come into being that could one day pierce your fortress, its wounds shall scab over and heal in such a way as a cleric mends flesh."
At this, the Duchess' eyes lit up. "Bestow upon me this unholy gift, oh great Malthus," she blurted out, "and I shall grant you anything that is within my power to give." Malthus grinned at her foolhardy offer, for Duchess Rosala's strengths did not lie in bartering. It is now well known that such reckless pleading with the powers of Hell only tempts devilish mischief… or worse. So Malthus took this opportunity to test the Duchess' resolve.
"There is but one means by which such a fortress can come to be," he told her. "A child of no more than five years must be buried alive within the very foundations of the keep. As it's constructed, the brick and mortar of your bastion shall leech the child's youthful vigor. And when the fortress finally stands completed, their tormented soul shall be mine… and your castle shall stand everlasting. This is the bargain I offer you."
Of course Duchess Rosala accepted, immediately sending word to her vassal lands. She offered riches in exchange for a child, falsely promising to rear and educate them as her own. Many peasants came to her home with hopes of wealth and a better life for their son or daughter. But the Duchess quickly settled on a deaf and mute pauper boy for her sacrifice, thinking herself wise by ensuring his silent screams would not be heard by the masons and carpenters. The boy's parents--blessing Duchess Rosala as a saint all the while--accepted her offer and bid a tearful farewell to their beloved son.
Even more horrible still, when the day came that the keep's foundations were ready to be set, the boy's hearing and voice miraculously returned to him. And as he was chained to the fortress' cornerstone, he screamed and cried for his parents--begging to be set free. But Duchess Rosala's heart was unmoved, so compelled was she to have her everlasting keep. She ordered her men to complete the foundations, threatening to have them and their families killed if they dared tell a soul what they had seen that day. The laborers were too terrified of the Matron to deny her, so they reluctantly walled the boy in.
All through that spring and summer, the sounds of hammers and chisels drowned out the boy's pitiful screams. Until--at long last--the final shingle was nailed into place atop the tallest tower, and Rosala Keep was finally silent. Excited to test the living stone of her new fortress, the Duchess ordered the foreman to strike the outer wall as hard as he could with a pickaxe. Fearing what she would do if he refused, the foreman swung at the immaculate wall. But much to the Duchess' surprise and rage, the strike dislodged a great chunk of masonry--ruining the perfect stone. She screamed in anger and chased all of the laborers from the keep, vowing bloody wrath if they ever returned or spoke to anyone of their work.
That night, the furious Duchess performed the dark ritual once more, summoning the Infernal Duke Malthus to her chambers. When he appeared, she demanded he claim the soul he promised to take so that her keep would become truly everlasting. But--unbeknownst to Duchess Rosala--the foreman, guilt-ridden by the buried child's sobs, had excavated the boy from his stony prison and secreted him away to safety. Now, standing before Duchess Rosala without his due, Malthus simply smiled. "As you wish," he said to her. In an instant, the Duchess was transported to the crushing prison beneath Rosala Keep, where she spent the rest of her short life in darkness and agony.
To this day, the keep stands as a grim reminder to any hapless diabolist foolish enough to presume that others will pay their debts for them. And though no one of House Rosala--or indeed any ruling House--dares set foot in that keep, it's said that--on still autumn nights--Duchess Rosala's wails can be heard drifting over the surface of River Adivian.
Torn: [[applauding]] Well done! Well done, my boy! An excellent yarn, if ever I've heard one!
Gwen: [[disturbed]] Ugh. Are all Chelish folktales so dreadfully macabre?
Quent: [[defensive]] No… I mean, not all of them but… [[embarrassed]] I dunno--it just fit with all the dice so well.
Toby: [[impressed]] I thought it was pretty good, Quent! Where'd you learn to tell stories so well?
Quent: Oh, you pick up a knack for that sort of thing on overnight rounds.
Gwen: Well, I must admit it was well told. Though I should like to hear something more cheerful next.
Torn: Well fortunately for Quentin here, I'm the only one whose opinion matters! And I must say, you've earned your three truths in spades! Would you care to ask them now or save them until the end?
Quent: Hmm… I think I'll get back to you on that.
Torn: As you wish. [[sigh]] Well! That yarn just tickled me pink! So who's next, hmm? Perhaps this is Gwendolyn's chance for a more genteel narrative?
Gwen: [[unsure]] Oh, I don't know. I'm not a particularly good yarn spinner.
Toby: What--you think I'll do any better? Go ahead, Gwen. I'm still working on my strategy.
Gwen: [[sigh]] Oh, very well.
Torn: [[reciting]] Then as Arbiter, I do hereby swear to award one truth per die cast… or none, should the tale be judged unworthy.
[[SFX: single die cast]]
Gwen: [[unsure]] All right then, how many dice do I take?
Quent: You're supposed to ask about the penalty.
Torn: Now, now. You've had your turn, Quentin. But yes, protocol demands we set out the terms of the wager. Hmm, let's see now… Should your yarn fall short of the mark, Gwendolyn, I think you'll have to… [[gleeful]] punch Tobias as hard as you can!
Toby: [[sardonic]] Oh, great. I can already feel my ears ringing.
Gwen: Anywhere on his body? Or just his face?
Quent: [[laughs]]
Toby: [[miffed]] Oh real nice, Gwen!
Torn: Anywhere will be fine. Though I doubt it will come to that.
Gwen: Then I accept.
Quent: [[laughs]]
Toby: [[sardonic]] These are my friends, apparently.
Torn: [[amused]] You may now choose up to three dice to roll.
Gwen: [[uncertain]] And what does my story have to be about?
Quent: The second round is "How Did You Come to Love", so--
Torn: [[interrupting]] Anything romantic will be fine, Gwendolyn. A fairy tale, some amorous verse… perhaps even an account of your first beau?
Gwen: [[flatly]] That is quite unlikely. Hmm… I think I'll just roll one die.
Toby: Hold on! Gwen--you know you'll only get one question if you roll one die, right?
Gwen: [[worried]] But if I roll more I might not be able to account for all the symbols!
Toby: Quent rolled three and he was fine!
Quent: I mean… I sort of got lucky. [[encouraging]] But, hey--I bet you could link at least two dice, no problem.
Toby: No way! Go for the maximum!
Gwen: [[nervous]] I don't know… Can I roll one at a time?
Torn: [[laughs]] Absolutely not!
Gwen: Hmm… And if I don't use one of the symbols in my story?
Torn: That renders the yarn as unworthy, I'm afraid.
Toby: Wait a second--you never mentioned that before!
Quent: It's called risk and reward, Toby. Have you never played "Boiling Pots" before? [[realization]] What am I saying? Of course you haven't.
Toby: [[crabby]] This is why you listen to all the rules first, you clod!
Quent: [[defensive]] How do you not assume there's some penalty involved with rolling all three dice?
Toby: [[angry]] Because I thought the idiot who knows all the rules would have told me at some point!
Gwen: [[stern]] That's quite enough--both of you. Really! You two quarrel like an old married couple!
Torn: [[amused]] Have you decided, my dear?
Gwen: I believe I'll go with two dice, thank you.
[[SFX: reaching into felt bag, rolling two dice]]
Toby: [[under breath]] So much for "the inquiring mind".
Torn: Shh! [[excited]] Ah, yes! The Sword and the Decanter!
Gwen: [[put out]] Oh. So… my story has to include those things specifically?
Torn: Not necessarily! The Sword could signify violence or war. But having an actual sword in your yarn works just as well.
Gwen: And the decanter?
Quent: Drunkenness, general foolishness, or any kind of alcohol really.
Torn: [[excited]] Indeed! You have one minute to concoct your yarn!
[[beat of silence]]
Gwen: [[defeated sigh]] I don't think I can do this. Nothing is coming to me.
Toby: You can't think of one story involving booze and violence?
Gwen: [[miffed]] The sort of stories I grew up with don't exactly revolve around tavern brawls, Tobias.
Quent: [[pressing]] Well, just make one up then.
Gwen: [[stressed]] I don't know! I'm just… drawing a blank.
Torn: Hmm… Surely a lady of your refinement would have had some approximation of oratory lessons during your childhood?
Gwen: Yes, but… [[realization]] Oh! Would I be allowed to recite a ballad?
Torn: [[excited]] Ooh! How you spoil us! Shall I dare ask if said ballad will be shared through song?
Gwen: [[embarrassed]] Goodness, I should think not!
Torn: [[pleading]] Oh, please! You have such a lavish voice, Gwendolyn! I'll award you another truth if you sing for us!
Toby: [[teasing]] Yeah, Gwen! Sing for us!
Gwen: Oh do shut your hatch, Tobias. If you're all quite done humiliating me--
Torn: Apologies, my dear. We were only teasing. Please do continue!
Gwen: Very well. [[deep breath]] [[formal]] I will now recite an excerpt from "A Spousal Arrangement" written by the late Lady Thoru of House Greel. [[clears throat]] [[reciting]]
Young Lady Renee of the House Arankay,
Well bred and of elegant aura.
One day came of age and became all the rage,
As the fairest of all in Oppara.
Her smile and her eyes--what a lovely surprise,
With features of stunning precision.
The serfs in the square couldn't help but to stare,
Which would often result in collisions.
The marketplace rabble did slaver and babble,
Their sundries and wares all forgotten.
The hands on the dock all just stood there and gawked,
While their cabbage and carrots went rotten.
Before lunch was through, suitors formed up a queue,
From Worldbreaker Hill to the Narrows.
So stately a rally that clogged every alley,
With nobles and princes and pharaohs.
From ev-ery corner, both local and foreigner,
Bedecked with much flourish and flavor,
Intent to propose, they brought trinkets and clothes,
For the chance to ensnare Renee's favor.
Yet one came instead, not for love or to wed,
But to treat with the girl's wealthy father.
To him, wedding bells brought in great fiscal swells,
And all else was gratuitous bother.
With charming and guile he climbed up from the pile,
Not a gift did he wield, but an offer.
His business was sherry and if he would marry,
The clans could incorporate their coffers.
So blinded by greed, the girl's father decreed,
That the two would be wed on the morrow.
With a flick of his wrist, all the suitors dismissed,
Much to Lady Renee's bitter sorrow.
Their wedding banal, the reception was small,
Too quick for Renee to disparage.
She cried herself hoarse, but they sighed, "Run the course,
It's tradition in all arranged marriage."
To make matters worse, the young man was a curse,
Naught but hubris and scorn and excuses.
When revenue stumbled, all niceties crumbled,
And poor Renee bore his abuses.
[[SFX: awkward silence]]
Gwen: [[clears throat]]
Torn: [[curious]] Is something the matter, my dear?
Gwen: [[uncomfortable]] I ah… I would opt to skip the next few stanzas as I find their subject matter to be somewhat unpleasant. As well as a tad… explicit for pleasant company.
Quent: [[amused]] And you said Chelish stories were macabre!
Toby: [[urging]] Aw! Come on, Gwen!
Torn: [[harshly]] No interruptions! [[sweetly]] Yes, of course Gwendolyn--if you must. Please continue.
Gwen: [[thoughtful]] Let's see… I think… ah, yes! [[clears throat]]
To cover his violence, he forced her to silence,
Lest rumors affect his commission.
Confined to her quarters, no friends or supporters,
Their marriage became Renee's prison.
Yet no one would hear when she hissed in their ear,
Her pleas were deemed base and neurotic.
"This girl once so stunning, now worthy of shunning,
Hysterical spite and chaotic."
Her honor, her name--now diminished in shame,
Each year Renee's heart became harder.
'Til one day her spouse threw a petulant grouse,
So she took a large knife from the larder.
That night as he slept, to the bedside she crept,
Possessed by a rancorous fever.
And brought the blade down, on his mis'rable crown,
'Til she blunted the kitchen's best cleaver.
At morning's first light, the valet had a fright,
For he broke on so grisly a scene.
The husband dissected, his parts disconnected,
A message attached to his spleen.
The note simply read, "I submit on this bed,
My formal wedlock absolution.
My spouse was arranged, but this fact hasn't changed,
As you see from his new distribution."
They searched far and wide, for the murderous bride,
Though some deem she never departed.
But her message stands clear: wed one you hold dear,
Lest your love life turn truly half-hearted.
Torn: [[applauding]] Bravo! Bravo, my dear! Oh! That was just wonderful! Truly inspired!
Quent: [[taken aback]] It's not every day you get to hear poetry about domestic cruelty and live dismemberment.
Torn: Indeed! Quite the delightful little composition!
Gwen: [[sheepish]] It's just a silly children's rhyme to skip rope to, really.
Toby: [[amused]] The fact that this was most likely written for little girls just makes it that much more hilarious!
Gwen: [[offended]] Hmph. Well I'm glad you got a laugh out of it. I, on the other hand, find it to be quite empowering. At least it had a happy ending.
Quent: [[sarcastic]] Yeah. Just leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.
Torn: [[chuckling, delighted]] This is what I love about your kind! You're all so obsessed with your own little foibles and vulgarities… and yet you still manage to go out of your way to take offense at the salacious proclivities of your neighbor. It's simply adorable!
Toby: [[weirded out]] Thanks? That's not at all unsettling. [[nonchalant]] Though it's hard to argue with your reasoning.
Torn: Well I must say, Gwendolyn! You have certainly earned your truths! That brings your collective total up to five. [[coy]] Anyone care to indulge?
Quent: Actually, I think I will.
Torn: By all means!
Quent: You've referred to us as "your kind" twice now. Which makes me think you're not from around here.
Toby: [[sarcastic]] A brilliant deduction, Quent.
Gwen: [[scolding]] Shh! Let him finish!
Quent: So, my first question is… what… are you exactly?
Torn: [[intrigued]] An interesting starting point, although not unexpected.
Toby: Wait! Before you answer… I'll bet I can guess what you actually are, Torn. Because you certainly aren't human.
Torn: [[coy]] Hmm… Is that so?
Quent: [[wary]] Uhh, Toby? What are you doing?
Toby: And if I get it right, you have to say so. And it doesn't count as one of our truths. Deal?
Torn: And if you're wrong?
Toby: I dunno. You can have Gwen punch me or whatever.
Torn: Oh, please--that was but a trifle. I had no doubt that Gwendolyn would tell a compelling yarn. However… I do quite like your idea from earlier. Let's say, if your guess is incorrect… you'll have to gouge out one of your eyes!
Gwen: [[alarmed]] What!? Toby, no!
Quent: [[stern]] That's enough, Torn. Just answer my question.
Toby: [[nonchalant]] Pfff. Yeah, sure. Fine by me.
Gwen: [[scared]] Toby, stop it right now!
Quent: This is stupid, Toby! Don't do it!
Toby: [[smug]] Why not? Look at his face. [[pause]] See? He knows I've figured it out. After all, he's already been through my mind.
Torn: [[warning]] That's quite the bold presumption you're making, my dear boy. Are you absolutely certain you know what you're doing?
Toby: [[confident]] Always. You're a demon, Torn. Specifically, an incubus. [[pause]] I'm right, aren't I? That's what you are--a lust demon.
Torn: [[deep breath]] Let us say--for the moment--that you're correct.
Toby: [[interrupting]] Because I am.
Torn: [[annoyed]] How many incubi do you think dwell within subterranean jungles at the bottom of the ocean?
Toby: [[smug]] See, that's another well-documented trait of both succubi and incubi… they can't stand being bested by mortals.
Torn: [[putting on airs of disinterest]] [[laughing]] Bested? Me!? [[snorts]] Hardly! You should spend more time contemplating the yarn you've yet to spin for us, Tobias. It's unwise to tally your wages before Oathday.
Gwen: So… does that mean you are a demon then?
Torn: [[hurriedly]] Yes it does! And that counts as your first truth!
Toby: [[annoyed]] Really, Gwen? After all that?
Gwen: [[miffed]] Here now--I was only asking for clarification!
Quent: [[defensive]] Yeah, that doesn't count!
Torn: [[mock remorseful]] I'm afraid I don't make the rules, my friends. I'm only beholden to them. [[coy]] Anyone else care to receive a truth?
Quent: Hmm… So do we have three questions left or four?
Torn: [[gleeful]] Three now! Ha ha! I've still got it!
Toby: [[angry]] Damn it, Quent!
Quent: [[embarrassed]] Ugh, whatever! This is idiotic!
Toby: You're idiotic!
Gwen: Stop it! Fighting isn't going to help. We obviously need to guard what we say… [[wary]] seeing as our host isn't operating under good faith.
Torn: [[mock insult]] You wound me, Gwendolyn. But I forgive you.
Toby: [[frustrated]] I think someone should ask an actual question.
Gwen: [[miffed]] Fine. I have one.
Torn: I await it with bated breath!
Gwen: So, Torn… you obviously came to our plane via this portal.
Torn: [[pressing]] Is that your question?
Gwen: No. There are dozens of naturally occurring portals throughout Golarion--both active and dormant. But that doesn't explain these caverns… or this strange jungle…
Torn: [[pressing]] I'm not hearing a question.
Gwen: [[stern]] My question is… what created these "Somal Caves", as you call them? Because I'm certain it wasn't just you… or that woman we found.
Toby: [[impressed]] Now that's a good question!
Torn: I won't speak for this "mystery woman" of yours… [[thoughtful]] Though… how to explain this to a mortal… [[hesitant]] Well… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to just show you.
[[SFX: rustling leather, ominous bass drop, magical aura]]
Torn: [[dramatic]] Behold! The beating heart of The Somal Caves! [[matter-of-factly]] Well… not a heart, really. I'm not quite sure what's inside, to be honest. A lung, maybe? I can't remember.
Quent: What in Hell is--
Toby: [[interrupting]] Ah ah ah! Only two questions left!
Quent: I mean… [[cautious]] That… weird… bleeding… statue couldn't have carved out all of these chambers.
Toby: [[scrutinizing]] I don't think that's a statue, Quent. It looks more like a… canopic jar.
Torn: Smart boy! [[hurriedly]] So! Who's up for another truth?
Gwen: You haven't yet answered my question, Torn. I asked what created these caverns. So please continue explaining this… [[disgust]] thing.
Torn: Fast learners. Very well. [[dramatic]] This, my friends, is one of the Bloodstones of Arazni! Said to contain vital organs ripped from the breast of Aroden's tragically fallen harbinger herself! [[matter-of-factly]] Hence, the continual bleeding effect. Not the most pleasant thing to hold, let me tell you. Makes a right mess of anything you put it in.
Toby: [[laughing]] How stupid do you think--
Torn: [[interrupting, gleeful]] Very stupid! Ha! One question left!
[[simultaneously, frustrated]] Gwen: Toby!
[[simultaneously, frustrated]] Quent: Toby!
Toby: Hey, that doesn't count! You interrupted me before I could catch myself!
Torn: Oh, Tobias! I've seen your mind! Why do you even bother lying to me?
Toby: [[angry]] Look who's talking! The Bloodstones of Arazni aren't even real! They're just a pathetic fairy tale!
Quent: Alright--settle down, Toby.
Toby: No! I don't play games with liars! Torn said the dice forced him to tell the truth. Now he's waving this garbage under our noses!
Torn: [[ominous]] You question the integrity of the truths I offer you?
Toby: You're damn right, I do!
Gwen: [[nervous]] Toby--
Torn: [[curious]] Hmm… Then here--take it if you're so sure it's false.
Toby: [[taken aback]] I… Ew, no! It's covered in blood!
Torn: What's the matter, Tobias? Afraid of "fairy tales", are we?
Toby: Yeah, right. I'm not falling for that.
Torn: You have brought my integrity into question, dear boy. And I'm afraid this is the only way to prove the artifact's authenticity. I promise it will not harm you. Now take it. [[ominous]] I insist.
Toby: [[wary]] Uhh… I think I'll pass, thanks.
Gwen: [[impatient]] Oh for Heaven's sake! Here, I'll take--
[[SFX: a cacophony of armies battling, a woman shouting heroically, battlefield explosions, a monstrous roar]]
Quent: [[alarmed]] Gwen!
Gwen: [[horrified]] [[heavy breathing]] Oh gods!
Toby: [[angry]] Torn! You promised it wouldn't harm us!
Gwen: [[heavy breathing]] I'm fine, Toby. Really, it's alright.
Torn: [[amused]] I trust this adequately confirms my validity?
Quent: [[angry]] Hurting her doesn't prove anything, Torn!
Gwen: [[shaken]] No--it didn't harm me, not really. I could just feel… [[disturbed]] It's fine. Let's just move on.
Toby: But he still hasn't answered your question! This evil bleeding jar couldn't have formed these caves!
Gwen: Whoever used it last could have. And I'm not sure it's evil, exactly. Just… incredibly powerful. It appears you've discovered a lost artifact after all, Toby.
Toby: Yeah, well… I'll be more careful what I wish for from now on.
Quent: [[wary]] Maybe it's time we got back to the ship. Right, Gwen?
Torn: But friends! You are still owed one truth… and I am still owed a yarn!
Toby: Fine, fine. Let's do this.
Gwen: [[suddenly]] Wait! I have another question.
Torn: By all means, my dear!
Gwen: When we finish here… you aren't planning on letting us leave. [[ominous]] You mean to kill us, don't you?
[[SFX: long pause]]
Torn: Now, Gwendolyn--why would you go and ruin our remaining time together like that?
[[SFX: sword unsheathes]]
Quent: [[angry]] Torn! You promised us safe passage!
Torn: [[chuckles]] I do recall that idea being mentioned earlier. [[mock pity]] Though sadly, it was never part of my terms.
Quent: You said we could come to an arrangement!
Torn: And indeed we have. Yarns for truths. I believe I was quite clear when I mentioned my gatekeeping duties earlier. But before you go swinging that toy at me, you might want to first consult with Tobias on the… heartiness of incubi. Not to mention our innate lethality.
Toby: [[challenging]] Big talk for a demon who's been sitting on his ass down here for gods know how long.
Torn: [[dismissive]] Oh, but this is silly! There'll be plenty of time to be ripped to shreds after the final yarn. Besides, attacking me now won't answer any more of your questions. Come--humor me a while longer, won't you?
Quent: [[through gritted teeth]] You expect us to just sit here and wait for you to attack us?
Torn: [[amused]] Of course not! You'll receive fair warning before we begin. After all, I am the sporting sort. I may even give you a running head start if Tobias' yarn amuses me.
Toby: [[belligerent]] Fine. You want a yarn? Then roll the die, jackass.
Torn: [[smug]] Very well. As Arbiter, I hereby swear to award one truth per die cast… or none, should the tale be judged as unworthy. In which case, Tobias, the penalty shall be your complete and utter complacency… [[darkly]] as I slaughter your friends in front of you.
[[SFX: single die cast]]
Quent: [[furious]] Why you smug son of a--
Gwen: [[resolved]] Do it, Toby.
Quent: [[confused]] Gwen, what?
Gwen: Just agree to it. You want to ask your questions, don't you?
Toby: [[suspicious]] Uhh… yeah, okay. I agree to your stupid terms.
Torn: How many dice will you take?
[[SFX: rummaging in dice bag]]
Toby: Just one.
Torn: [[goading]] Are you sure?
Toby: I only need one question.
[[SFX: single die cast]]
Torn: [[amused]] The Skull, once more! How… appropriate. You have one minute to concoct your--
Toby: [[interrupting]] Yeah, I'm good. Okay--stop me if you've heard this one. [[bluntly]] So three Knights of Ozem are walking to the Worldwound to kill a bunch of demons, right? When they get there, the first knight goes, "Hey, I bet I can kill a demon with just three hits!" So he waits for a babau to creep over and swings three times with his sword. [[making sound effects]] Whoosh! Whoosh! Whack! The blood demon's arms and head fly off and it's dead before it hits the ground. Pretty impressive, right?
But the second knight says, "Oh yeah? I bet I can kill a demon with only two hits!" So pretty soon a yaenit demon shows up and the second knight cuts it in half twice--first laterally and then lengthwise. [[making sound effects]] Shing! Shing! Plop plop plop plop! Four pieces fall to the ground before the stupid thing knows what hit it. Needless to say, the first knight is pretty impressed by this.
But the third knight just laughs and says, "That's nothing! I can defeat a demon with only one hit!" The other two knights scoff at him but right as he says this, an incubus that was circling overhead swoops down at the third knight. He easily dodges the attack and, as the idiot demon flies past, the knight merely flicks the wrist of his sword arm. [[making sound effects]] Whoosh! Whip! Ahhh! The incubus screams in pain but keeps on flying until it's just a dot on the horizon, and it doesn't come back.
The first two knights laugh and are all like, "You call that slaying a demon!?" But the third knight just points at a tiny speck of bloody flesh on the ground and says, [[cheesy punchline]] "No, but I doubt he'll be fornicating any time soon!" [[pause]] Get it? Because he sliced off his--
Quent: [[interrupting, long-suffering]] Yes, Toby. We get it.
[[SFX: awkward pause]]
Torn: [[bored]] Oh, I'm sorry. Is that the end of your… story?
Toby: [[condescending]] What's wrong, Torn? A bit too close to home for you?
Torn: Hmm? Oh, you mean the jape about an incubus' endowment? Not at all. As you can see--
[[SFX: standing, rustling sound]]
[[simultaneously]] Toby: [[disgusted]] Ugh!
[[simultaneously]] Gwen: [[embarrassed]] Oh, good gods!
[[simultaneously]] Quent: [[wincing]] Aw, man!
Torn: [[amused]] The quip was entirely unfounded. [[sigh]] I'll admit, Tobias, I'm a bit disappointed in your delivery. Not to mention the narrative itself was a bit wanting.
Toby: [[sardonic]] Everyone's a critic.
Torn: But I'm feeling generous. I award you one final truth.
Quent: [[smoldering]] Before you kill us.
Toby: [[scoffs]] Before he tries.
Torn: [[stretching]] Well, we could skip ahead to that part if you'd like. Though I'd much rather prefer to hear Tobias' question first. I doubt it could be any less entertaining than his yarn.
Toby: [[sardonic]] Oh, ha ha. Very funny. Okay, smartass. So it's blindingly obvious that the woman we found upstairs is a friend of yours. Most likely a succubus, though I'm still not sure what rendered her unconscious.
Torn: [[giggles]] What makes you so sure she is unconscious?
Gwen: [[gasps]] Oh no! Lola!
Quent: [[alarmed]] Damn it! We have to go back!
Toby: Stay with me, guys! We'll deal with her after Torn here answers my question.
Torn: [[bored sigh]] And I suppose you'd like to know how to defeat me, hmm?
Toby: [[confidently]] Oh, I already know how you're going to die. Gwen's been telling me her plan telepathically.
Quent: [[confused]] Wait, what?
Gwen: Sorry, Quentin. I only had time for one message.
Torn: [[amused]] Oho! A secret plot! This should be interesting!
Toby: Just so you know--this is your last chance to let us walk away, Torn.
Torn: [[annoyed]] Don't insult me, Tobias. Come--ask your final question.
Toby: If you insist. Your succubus friend--why is she here? What is she trying to do on the surface?
Torn: [[laughs]] That's your question? [[scoffs]] Somehow I expected more.
Toby: Then I'm happy to disappoint you. Answer it.
Torn: [[chuckles]] Very well. That "woman" you found--she's here to, among other things, take the lives of three very foolish old men.
Quent: [[confused]] Old men?
Gwen: [[knowingly]] What did they do to her?
Torn: They called her, of course. Several times, actually. Over the span of several decades.
Quent: That's it? She just wants to kill the wizards who summoned her?
Torn: [[suddenly intense]] Have you ever been ripped away from your home? Forced to bow and scrape to degenerates you've never even met? [[angry]] Do you have any idea what it's like to become forced into servitude… in an instant?
Toby: Oh, come on. Don't be such a cry baby.
Gwen: [[puzzled]] But surely the binding spell couldn't have lasted for more than a few hours.
Torn: [[angry]] We do not suffer the whims of mortals! [[threatening]] Least of all those who know our true names.
Quent: [[curious]] So who are they? These "old men" you seem to hate so much.
Torn: Hmm… I suppose it couldn't hurt to say. The eldest is a holy man. Some remnant leader of the Church of Aroden, if that sorry institution even still exists. The second is one of those curious waterfolk, a gillman. He once mentioned something called the "Wet-House". I don't suppose any of you have ever heard of it?
Gwen: [[wary]] I can't say that I have.
Torn: [[disappointed]] Hmph. Nothing is ever that easy, is it?
Toby: So? Who's the third guy?
Torn: [[darkly]] A fiend of a man. Clever of speech and cunning in the ways of the Planes. It is he who tormented my lady for so long, he who crafted her decennial prison. We have cursed his name for forty long years. [[intense]] And when we finally track down this "Perseus Lewin", we shall make him and all he holds dear writhe in agony for eternity.
Toby: Wait, what!?
Gwen: [[gasps]] Oh, no!
Quent: [[unbelieving]] No… no it can't be!
Torn: [[confused]] What are you… [[realization]] Oh! [[laughing]] Oh ho ho! Could it be? But… you don't actually know this man, do you?
Gwen: [[under her breath]] Quentin, put away your sword and get ready to run.
Quent: [[furious]] You're lying! It's got to be someone else! There's no way!
Toby: [[warning]] Quent, I think you'd better shut your hatch now.
Torn: [[shocked laugh]] [[in awe]] You don't just know him… you're of his blood, aren't you? [[gasps]] [[gleeful]] Oh! But this is too perfect!
Quent: [[horrified]] Oh my gods… That means the warehouse… the calling diagram… the missing girl!
Gwen: [[stern]] Quentin--put your sword away… now.
Quent: [[furious]] I'm not running, Gwen! The moment we turn our backs, this freak is going to pounce on us!
Toby: [[desperate]] Just do it, you idiot!
Torn: [[darkly]] Yes, I do believe I'll enjoy a good chase. It's been too long since I've stretched out my wings.
[[SFX: leathery stretching]]
Gwen: Oh, we're running… just not from you. Tobias, Quentin--stand back!
Torn: [[laughs]] What do you think you're going to do with that, Gwendolyn? The Bloodstone has already attuned itself. You hold no power over it.
Gwen: Is that so? Then how do I know the portal's command word? [[harsh pronunciation]] Lash'ov vo'hollom!
[[SFX: rumbling, magical shattering, atmospheric pressure]]
Torn: [[shocked/horrified]] What!? No! [[shrieking]] Ahhhh!
[[SFX: stone caving in, deep rumbling]]
Toby: [[shouting]] Time to go!
Quent: [[shouting]] Gwen! Come on!
Gwen: [[shouting]] But the Bloodstone!
[[SFX: boulder crashing]]
Toby: [[shouting]] It's already gone, Gwen!
Gwen: [[shouting]] But it's too dangerous to leave down here!
Quent: [[shouting]] Not as dangerous as staying! We're leaving--now!
Gwen: [[frustrated groan]] [[shouting]] Fine, but stay close to me! I'll keep us shielded!
[[SFX: TRANSITION MUSIC]]
SCENE 3
[[SFX: deep water ambience, faint swimming sounds, bubbles]]
[[SFX: splashing water, Gwen, Toby, and Quent gasp for air]]
Quent: [[sputtering, out of breath]] You call that twenty minutes!?
Toby: [[out of breath]] I told you the extract may have diluted over time!
Quent: We could have drowned!
Toby: But we made it, didn't we? You alright, Gwen?
Gwen: [[out of breath]] Yes, I'll be fine.
[[SFX: ship bobbing on water]]
Toby: Well, there's the ship. But I don't see the skiff.
Quent: It's probably being towed on the other side.
Gwen: Gods bless Wisp for bringing the Friend Ship in closer! I barely have the strength to tread water.
Toby: [[calling]] Hoy! Wisp! Throw us a mooring line already!
[[SFX: rope unfurling, splashing in water]]
Quent: Here, Gwen--you go up first.
Gwen: [[winded]] Thank you.
Toby: [[calling]] Captain's on line! Pull her up!
[[SFX: rope rubbing against wood]]
Quent: [[calling]] Careful now!
Gwen: [[calling up]] Wisp, are you up there? Have you picked up Lola yet?
[[SFX: rope rubbing against wood]]
Gwen: [[calling up]] Wisp, can you hear me? We think Lola came up ahead of us and she may have been with a… [trails off]] [[to self, scared]] Oh, no.
[[SFX: pirates laughing]]
Battoh: [[amused]] Greetings, Lady Karthis. You may call me Battoh. Captain Stoddard sends his regards.
[[SFX: dramatic stinger, OUTRO MUSIC]]
CREDITS
Narrator: Omen, episode 107: "Boiling Pots" was written and directed by Tim Krause. Featuring Mamito Kukwikila as Gwen, A.J. Beckles as Tobias, Charlie Wes as Quentin, Tom Laflin as Torn, Chris Einspahr as Wisp, and Gary Scales as Battoh. Additional voices provided by Sam Eisele, Sarah Rhea Werner, Phill Usher, Brandon Jenkins, Sarah Golding, Graham Rowat, and Tom Laflin. Original music composed by Matt Lee.
If you would like to support these independent creators as well as unlock exclusive Omen content, please consider becoming a patron at patreon dot com slash omenpodast. You can also show love for Omen by leaving a rating and review wherever you listen. Your encouragement is greatly appreciated. Thank you!
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Thank you so much for listening to Omen. And until next we meet, fair winds and following seas.
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