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The Carry.
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Oct 6, 2022 06:52
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A sneak
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Oct 6, 2022 11:52
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Third Life, Oceans Eleventhousand BCE TW: Gore. Not for the first time in your lives you are struck by lightning. It is an awful sensation that you never quiet get used to, each event subtly different from the last due to the inscrutable Patterns of Creation. You are lifted of off your paws and thrown out of the chamber by the blast, your nerves bursting along the leyseems by the sheer power of the blow, blood sizzling whiting as you are pushed into the remains of KES KES TEE like a sheep herded to pasture by a particularly viscous bull.  KES KES TEE for her part keeps a stoic face, as far as you can tell what with it already having been melted off, and barley let's out a sigh of anguish and or relief as she is caught in the spell. Some part of you imagines the cargohold walls buckling to contain the raw magic on display, angry runes flaring to keep reality anchored and stable against the will of a waking God, but, much as you have no hope of resisting the transformation, neither can the runes contend with the Royal Scepter of the Returnal Empire doing what it was intended to do; facilitating the return of Lord AK UT EN, by any means necessary.  Your master may have been dead for centuries, but even lacking most of his organs and faculties, locked in a box inside another box at sea, his might is still formidable.  The two of you, the most loyal out of the three currently extant servants of His Divine Princeiness are not, as you might have first feared, obliterated on the spot. Though some parts of you may have preferred it to the anguish you are forced to undergo. Instead you witness through some combination of your own magical senses and your lords desire the full extent of the violation of your corporeal forms. For the process of reconfiguration is not at all pleasant or for the faint of heart.  Legless and horribly burnt, KES KES TEE also rises in the air, her lower half joining in a short while later as a vaguely limb shaped soup surrounded by a web of scintillating golden electric tendrils which double back in to flay the burnt and useless skin from her body, revealing raw muscle and bone underneath. One by one her veins are ripped from the underlying structure and welded into mid-air by the enigmatic lighting until, soon enough, she floats, compartmentalized in perfect, gruesome display.  As if the pain you were already feeling wasn't enough, the same now happens to you, relief only granted when your skull finally separates from your spinal cord to bob along side that of your peer. From this new vantage and respite you conclude that your master has not even left his his golden tomb yet is still conducting the reform with remarkable precision.  You crack like an egg as your bones are forcibly enlarged, strengthened as aether fills microscopic cavities before solidify into marrow and bound with gold. All of your parts now flying together in a chaotic jumble in great juxtaposition to the previous bout of order, though still methodically navigated into place by the golden threads. The next few moments pass by in a flurry of mystical energy and frank body horror, as bits and pieces you once considered your own intermingle, mix and merge with that of KES KES TEE until your bodies are truly one and the same. One by one your veins - the only part of your old bodies left somewhat unsullied – are plucked from their resting places and woven around and into absences that by all rights should be filled, but before you have a chance to contemplate this the pain returns together with your other physical senses as you are continually stitched and grown back together, new nerves sprouting as leaves from the stems of golden thread criss crossing your internals.   From each cluster of nerves, muscles expand with wild abandon, foam extrudes and hardens into skin and aesthetically pleasing bandages are woven from thin air to cover whatever needs covering. Finalizing the exterior changes, the coils of golden force dig into your new body and pump it even more full of raw magic, creating new, plentiful organs for your previously inserted veins to supply with humours, leaving but the matter of your Souls unsettled. 1: You are an ancient and powerful entity even if currently a bit worse for wear. KES KES TEE however, is, or was, a mere mortal, however useful. She has no real choice in what happens next, but you do. A: Stick with the plan and push her out, leaving your body a fresh slate but it's full potential unlocked. KES KES TEE will die, though whatever that means for someone in Lord AK UT EN's service is hard to predict. B: Attempt to manipulate the transformation to keep some part of her intact. Wether that is a second mind to share headspace with, or just some latent memories and instincts depend on your skill and intent. In either case, some part of your shared body will be forever out of reach, but getting back up to speed with Humanoid Life will be that much simpler. C: Don't just push her out, make her suffer. With all the necromancy flying about you could simply cut her soul from [s]her[/] your body, leaving her a restless spirit, a Ghost. With a bit of skill you might even bind her to some nearby trinket, such as your bracelet, if you desire, that she does not dissipate with the dawning on the new day. Some of the transformation rituals power would be diverted into this little experiment, limiting your future potential somewhat, but not in any way that would be meaningful until much later, but in exchange you might have a thrall of your own and some practice with spellweaving in a safe-ish environment. --- 2: After the spectacle dies down and the light fades, you descend onto the hardwood floor refreshed, rejuvenated, nay, reconstructed. Caught In the shimmer of the walls of gold, or perhaps as a reflection deep in pool of blood you catch a glimpse of your newest Self. D:          E: But I never cared much for appearances, they come and go with each life lived. --- Taking stock of your situation is not easy. Much of the cargohold is melted ruins and what bodyparts remained after the little skirmish earlier have been used up to replace what KES KES TEE had lost, as recycling is always more efficient, even in magic, apparently. You'll have to study that later, as you are quiet sure you are almost out of time. Not that you have any real way of telling how much has passed, but with no "pirates" patrolling the deck and most of it burnt or bloodstained, anyone passing by on shore could tell that something was amiss, and that's before any farsight or enhanced vision comes into play. 3: Someone WILL notice eventually and probably sooner rather than later, the only question is, where will you be when they do? F: As a Carry, my duty is to protect the Master. His power is tied to the land and his kingdom, so we go ashore posthaste and hope to escape before any Adventurers find us, or at least find a place slightly more advantageous to fight them than their own home turf. G: As a Carry, my duty is to protect my Master, but though his power is tied to the land, he has no more land to call his own and so the ship will have to do. Attempt to navigate to a safer haven before the Adventurers catch up with you, or use the ship's capabilities to your advantage should escape not be possible. H: As a Carry, my duty is to protect my Master, but we have no where to run. Make your (last?) stand where you are, onboard the ship. The main difference between this option and B is that you wont even attempt to escape and thus might have more time to prepare, maybe. I: Something else? Maybe you have a master plan of some sort. Write-in
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Oct 24, 2022 23:04
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1:B 2: 3: F
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Oct 24, 2022 23:13
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1A 2E 3G
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Oct 24, 2022 23:17
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1 C 2 3 H
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Oct 25, 2022 03:52
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A F Pyramidboy probably doesn't want to stay on the ocean
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Oct 25, 2022 03:53
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1:B "KES KESS TEE will help fill in the blanks. We don't exactly know much we're probably supposed to know, and they would." "This is just a temporary thing, once we get enough parts for something better we'll see about movin out." 2:Electro-Laserave rat 3:G
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Oct 25, 2022 07:59
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Third Life, Oceans Eleventhousand BCE All at once everything tumbles into place as improbably swift as if an earthquake had solved a jigsaw puzzle. You feel at first every part of yourself as separate islands of agony, to the point you fear it has all gone horribly wrong, but the white hot pain archipelago that is you cools and other, more nauseating landmasses rise to the surface together with the ghosts of your last meals, that being wooden shavings and a ritually prepared fish based pie. Urgh you think to yourselves, collapsing on top of the now spotless floor. As you come to, your eyes open and you fix your gaze on your paws. Hands. Mitts. Your fine, furry but musclebound arms. You take hold of your face. Still ratty, wiggling your ears in what some might consider a ridiculously cute fashion if the circumstances were not quiet so horrific. You still have a tail, but... your sense of scale has changed. You are no longer eye level with boots, rather your head almost scrapes the upper hull and you must duck for bulkheads. You look at the runes covering the cargohold walls. They are still unreadable, painful even, but at least they aren't lashing out at you. Exhausted, you take a deep breath.  But the air feels dead and stale. You cough, a little voice at the back of your awareness telling you to seek sustenance elsewhere. You don't fully understand, but you know you are at risk every moment you tarry. You have been tasked to aid in your masters restoration, true, but you know you are a rat in a barrel. The Canopic jars and more practical lessons in necromancy will have to wait. You take of at a sprint, finding the anchor chain one end of the ship and releasing it with a jank of an emergency deadbolt and rush to cut the cord to raise the sail. You cannot, will not stay where your enemies can find you, not in this state. With uncanny agility you hop over barrels and shiparchitecture as a feisty gladiator might navigate an obstacle course at the local bloodgames, finding yourself ere long at the helm. The best thing about living forever, you muse, is how quickly the basics come back to you. Once you secure a body with the, ah, right faculties. ~ Without a crew setting sail for the high seas is a no go, and heading upriver would make you far too easy to spot, so you put your trust in the wind and the rudder to speed you to some nearby cove or cliff that you can make hideaway in before the, you shudder, 'adventurers', arrive. Though the ship creaks in protest at the sudden launch it cannot rightly withstand the might of air and current, and so it lurches along reluctantly with its malevolent payload to unsure shores. ~ As an hour passes by in a flurry of searatwomanship, you gain a more nuanced understanding of your new form. The power of The Curse has faded. Though you have a minor blessing, still. You have access to cantrips of the schools of necromancy, transmutation and alteration via your divine benefactor. Your access is severely restricted by His Divine Grace The Lord AK UT ENs rather lacklustre standing in the Worldly Pantheon and the fact that he has only a single worshiper left. You are sentient and you have a body capable of storing and transmuting aether. With this and your natural talent, it is possible to learn magic the hard way, but without a teacher or books you will either have to start from scratch by experimenting or go without spellcraft entirely, for now. You also understand that your current body has an upper limit of what tier of magic it can access or wield without dangerous, permanent alterations or magical aid, but exactly what that limit is, you cannot say without study. Regardless, it can never meet your true magical potential. You know the equivalent of Common from the time of Lord AK UT EN, have an intuitive understanding of rattish and an intrinsic knowledge of infernal and have natural mild telepathic abilities. You are highly dexterous, nimble and swift. You have natural claws and can climb rough surfaces easily, treating them as standard terrain for the sake of movement. Your body is strong and slow to tire, but does need rest eventually. Your body will respond to training as expected. You are mortal and alive, a so called monstrous humanoid. A living, medium sized creature of a fit build. Though your sense of smell is superior, your eyesight is somewhat lacking, somewhat compensated for by your superior Third Eye, the sense of Magic. You are unusually highly resistant to mind altering effects. Your body deals with mundane poisons better than most. Your body is not particularly resistant to magic. Your body has a very weak morphic identify, making you particularly vulnerable to transmutation effects. You are marred by a weakness to divine energies. Your Mana reserves are destitute. Something nearby is preventing Mana generation, or siphoning the local supply, or otherwise interfering with the flow of aether. The source is on the ship. Your mind is utterly broken, but you are hanging in there. Your memory is amnesic. The less said about your soul, the better. ~ 1: Where do you stop to make landfall? A: A quiet cove, not far from where you started.  You sail for about an hour, until reaching the first spot along the shore that can truly be called hidden. A rocky outcropping, a cave. If you steer the ship just right, you could at least break line of sight to the sea. Maybe your enemies wont find you under cover of darkness? B: The township of Prettyport  Two hours out, you spot a lively harbour at the end of an inlet; you could dock there with some difficulty and hope the locals aren't too spooked by your appearance, or attempt to cow them into compliance, or simply bribe your way with your ill gotten gains. Surely a hold full of gold can still buy the loyalty and silence of C: A luscious lagoon.  Two and a half hours out, pretty close to the town but far enough away that no one will notice you unless they have specific business there, a river delta breaks the land up into a series of shallow islands - a paradise. You hate it, and you can't really bring the ship that far in, but it offers a middle ground between the cove and the town. D: Wayside Rainforest Waterfall  Five hours out, a tight and winding river leads to a small lake, fed by a waterfall heralding from further into the rainforest. You'll be safe here for a day or two at least, as long as your foe doesn't utilize any magical means of finding you, as long as you actually get here without being found. Scavenging for food wont be that difficult either, but there wont be any people nearby, for good nor ill.
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Dec 12, 2022 18:53
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C Easy to run from if needed, and easy to get to/ Attack the town if needed
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Dec 12, 2022 19:00
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D We need a minute I think. Unless we could potentially convert the townspeople in a hurry?
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Dec 12, 2022 19:11
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D. Somewhere we can take a hot minute to sort out any remaining canopic jars, double check to see if any crews remains yet remain, and just generally take inventory.
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Dec 12, 2022 19:27
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D Buy some time.
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Dec 12, 2022 19:41
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C A is probably where the adventurers are, B is too conspicuous.
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Dec 12, 2022 21:30
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D
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Dec 13, 2022 00:19
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D lets not do the equivalent of stealing someone's car then parking it the next street over, or outside to motel they're likely staying at, in order to rifle through
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Dec 13, 2022 01:59
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D What we need now is some peace, quiet, and beautiful scenery!
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Dec 13, 2022 02:41
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D We want to be a pain to find when someone starts looking up and down the coastline.
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Dec 13, 2022 04:01
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Third Life, Oceans Eleventhousand BCE The journey is long, perilous and jaw clenching. You could be caught, by a superior and magic capable force, at any moment, and you are running a large sailing vessel by yourself having, for a lack of a better term, just been born. Without a crew, it is all you can do to hold onto the wheel and hope the wind takes you in roughly the right direction and not straight into a cliff. To your abject horror, the morning breeze is actually downright pleasant and flowing exactly where you want it in a way that is entirely unnatural. Indeed, conditions are ideal for sailing and the ship is escorted by school of brightly coloured fish and occasionally flanked by larger, slimmer swimmers that ‘frolic’ in the wavefront and chirp happily as you go by. There is not a single rocky outcropping, surprise iceberg or hidden shallow in your path. It is as if the land itself has been shorn of at the seams, a pillar surrounded by oceans, to facilitate travel and ease the burden of lighthouse keepers everywhere. The only exception seems to be the port town you pass. Though you keep your distance from it as to not be thrown an inopportune welcome parade, you still make note of how the shore next to the pristine, glimmering beaches are shallow to the point where it would be impossible for even the most determined of toddler to drown themselves in, and how the land tortuously bends and breaks every known natural law of geography to coral and enclose these safe-wading-sections from the deep channel that lets even the largest of seafaring ships dock without effort by the bustling hamlet. There is a rainbow, though there are no clouds in the sky.  More agonizingly picturesque cliff faces whizz by where fat bovine graze on verdant fields of grass without fear of being pushed off by trolls or scooped up rocs or even harassed by lowly kobolds. Occasionally you spot a shepherd or fisherperson snoozing a mid-day siesta, or hear the laughter and song of children (and honestly, adults as well) carried on the wind from further inland as if waving you goodbye as you leave civilization behind. The songs of the city is almost instantly replaced by the melody of the jungle as your boat travels further and further along the shore. Nature becomes wilder, thicker but somehow equally inviting as you go, with flowers in every colour blooming in the tree tops where you can also see hints of larger, more simian looking nests and rudimentary wood and rope artifice, such as sturdy wooden bridges crossing chasms into the deeper jungle. It is one of these chasms into which your journey finally comes to an end, as the wind dies down almost on command and the ship lazily glides into a winding stream taking you deep under the cover of the canopy until you reach a secluded lake with a waterfall. You already know there is a cave behind it, how could there not be? There is even a convenient beach where large boulders form a ‘natural’ gangway that you can only see once you are halfway into the lake, well hidden from the entrance and the sky both. It is, in a word, Perfect. In five, To Good To Be True. But you know this. It is an imbalance you have felt as long as you have known anything. A reverse entropy that coddles everything and leaves no room for, ah, how to put it? Malice. You come to a stop just before impacting with the boulders through no effort on your part as the ship creaks in the least threatening manner possible and a single, prismatic butterfly lands on the very bow to offer the final microjoule of resistance to negate any forward momentum you might still be carrying. With a beat of its wings the gentle motion of the sea ceases and you are docked, having survived well past even your most optimistic estimation through sheer, ludicrous serendipity.  You go to tell your Master that you have arrived, but find him spent. At least as far as you can tell. The Sarcophagus as the centre of the cargohold, within it’s golden inner sanctum is heavy and quiet. No glorious golden scarab comes to meet you with glib comment, though you feel it’s presence deep within the gold-inlaid marble and the golden figure carved into the Royal Coffin now holds it’s Royal Scepter in an equally golden grip. Looks like its up to you to plan the next step whilst Lord AK-UT-EN recovers, but it is just as well, you have grown tired of these precarious confines and long for the damp darkness of a dungeon, sewer level or even, you sigh internally, an overly convenient, hopelessly romantic waterfall cave hideout get-away. Taking but a single step of off the ship, your right-foot-paw touching the rich soil of the jungle for the first time you are filled with an intrusive Peace, your toes tickled by lush grass and skin caressed by pollen-laden whisps of early evening zephyr. There is another rainbow, emanating from the waterfall this time as it catches a stray ray of dusking-sunset-shine just-so bent in such a way as to reveal an easily-missed, natural stone step-way leading behind the shower curtain of warm fresh jungle-water draining into the perfectly clear oasis beneath you. Another step and your lungs are filled with oxygen rich, pollutant-free air your root-chakra a steady stream of water and nature aspected mana. Flowing from every pore of every inch of the land around you.  It’s like hitting a solid brick wall at Mach Two. Which you have done before, you realize as another memory erupts in your mind, granting you a front-seat re-enactment of your own demise yet again. This one mercifully quick as the force that had ejected you, some manner of Collosus you think-you-remember through the pain, had seen fit to pound you into dust against your own Doom Castle Fortifications. You didn’t even have time to blink. This is exactly like that, but originating inside your body instead of the other way around. Like an over-filled balloon your muladhara is overwhelmed as power flows into your being, causing all manner of spontaneous magical manifestations as you struggle to close your third eye lest you be blinded as well from the shock to your systems. You vomit flowers enough to fill a quaint corner store as a pristine mountain spring leaks from your eyesockets and eels swim out of your ears and you collapse onto the ground, where fronds of leaves sprout spontaneously to cushion your fall and gently push you back onto the ship where the whole confusing ordeal ends as soon as it begun. The colours of the world drain a smidgeon and you burp a small whirlwind sprite into brief existence before the laws of nature take hold once more and banish it to Borealis with a small crack of thunder. “What the” you stop yourself just in time – instinct older than Dragons, warning you to steer clear of profanity in the presence of Divinity. “What just happened.” Bidden by your confused expression, a fragment of spirit once known as KEZ KEZ TEE rises to the call.  “These lands are blessed, but not by one of ours. Other powers mark it their dominion, and share their bounty freely. Take care to shutter your inner self, lest you be swept away by the flood of Their Generosity oh my Well of Darkness, my Shadow of the Sun.” --- Memory Unlocked! Divinity And You! Many powers walk the world and inhabit the planes of Creation. The mightiest call themselves Divinity and claim the very Concepts of the World as integral parts of themselves as a deer might claim its heart. But just as easily can it be ripped out and crushed underfoot, for the Truth of Divinity is that even It is Fleeting. Dominion is passed around as a prize of base conflict, and it is molded by the inheritors, whom themselves are influenced in turn even by the lowly worshipers that toil far below. Lord AK-UT-EN was, or perhaps still is, part of a Pantheon, a collection of Divinities with a shared goal or origin, often both, though not by necessity. How long has it been since kin and kindred strode the earth? You do not know, but the earth must have trembled at his passing, if the power contained in but one blast of his Royal Scepter so rocked your world. To think that others now claim His Rightful Territory as theirs, it does not sit right with you at all. You feel revulsion within and further revulsion at the revulsion until nausea knocks you out of your contemplation and back into reality where, perhaps mercifully, some real-life decisions must be made in the present. --- 1: What now? A: We hide out for the day and continue as the sun rises, heading further and further from the site of the original battle. B: We stay for a while, carefully exploring the area nearest the waterfall, but leaving at the first sign of trouble. You plan to stay at least for as long as it takes for Lord AK-UT-EN to recuperate, but plan to leave him in the cargo hold to facilitate a quick egress should you need it. C: Take the Sarcophagus ashore. It is a risky move as any Powers present will surely feel another of their ilk present in their dominion, but the ambient mana-levels are off the charts and he should recuperate to wake within the day, if not sooner. D: Begin dismantling the boat to move the Golden Inner Sanctum into the cave behind the waterfall when you deem it safe. It might not be much, but a Dungeon Home is where the Dungeon Heart is. E: Something Else? Perhaps you have a cunning plan? If so, write-ins are always available. --- KES KES TEE is present and available for question-time, should you desire. Her knowledge is considerable, but not quiet up to date. --- Brainpower Bonus! You might not be in the prime of your unending lifecycle any more, but you do have a larger-than-rat-brain to go with your immense and evil mind, so you quickly put two and two together and realize the ship-runes are somehow dampening but not draining, magic, making the deck an almost-dead-magic zone. Almost, but not entirely. The shock to your system came from going from almost-zero to full in an instant without the proper precautions, meditations or training to absorb such ample magnitude of magic. If you take a minute or two to steel yourself beforehand, you should be able to explore without worry.
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Jan 3, 2023 20:48
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C Let's meet the neighbors.
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Jan 3, 2023 21:18
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C KEES, what was happening in the Kingdom around the time you died–any upheaval, invasions, coup plots etc?
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Jan 4, 2023 01:09
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B Team boring checking in 
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Jan 4, 2023 04:08
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B. Discretion is the better part of valor. Besides, if we're going to be potentially making contact with members of another pantheon, it's probably a good idea to have our boss be awake for it.
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Jan 4, 2023 07:55
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C let's roll up like we own the place
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Jan 4, 2023 08:28
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E: Wasn't there a mage/alchemist setup onboard? Maybe they have something you can bottle some mana with for later.
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Jan 4, 2023 08:42
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C. Let's not pass up the opportunity to plug in the boss.
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Jan 4, 2023 10:25
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alpaca diseases posted:C The Eternal Empire was at War, but it always was. Such was the way of things, even amongst ourselves as siblings played for the favour of their elders and the resources of one another, not to mention the lands belonging to other families, both older and younger. Much of the world also objected to our dedication to the Higher Arts that they claimed were forbidden. To our cultivation of Death and Rebirth, our command of the Magic of Animation. Out of jealousy, since we would not freely share our secrets with our enemies. As for plots, I am sure there were several just as I am sure that they succeed, for Lord AK-UT-EN was to spend but one season in the lands between as his mortal avatar withered with age. From what little We have gathered, a considerably longer time has passed. How much, I cannot say without an astrolabe, ocular or oracle. But if mere pirates made it out of the Empire with not only the body of Lord AK-UT-EN, but His entire tomb as well, I fear to much time has passed for even the stars to be of any help as they to, dance with entropy. The old families would hunt us if they knew of our weakness, however temporary. As would some, but not all of Our Own. I cannot speak for newcomers to the scene, though if Policy remains the same across Time I doubt they would accept us as we are or even were, especially in lands that they now claim through right of conquest.
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Jan 4, 2023 17:46
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B
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Jan 5, 2023 03:15
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Lol do not expose AK UT EN unless we're actually trying to kill him and have a good escape all planned out
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Jan 5, 2023 04:02
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Third Life, Oceans Eleventhousand BCE You centre yourself and push forward, against the tidalwave of magical energies that threaten to flood your starving system. Though you won't risk exposing your third eye to prove it, you are reasonably sure just from your brief exposure that there is a leyline nearby, or perhaps even a natural font. With a bit of work and time you could make yourself quiet comfortable here, perhaps set up a lab and a study, a few circles... Yeah. You could probably get a proper dungeon going, if it wasn't for those adventurers that are probably scouring the jungles for you even now. No, you need focus on waking Lord AK UT EN from his manaless slumber, that you together may pose at least a phyrric defeat should they catch up with you before a foothold can be established. But you can't just leave his sarcophagus out in the open, either. Even amidst this blessed midjungle cove practically misty with motes of mana, it would stand out like a sore thumb for anyone halfway competent hunting for you. It is not for nothing that Overlords favour the boundless depths of the earth for their homesteads, for the soil does more than nourish, it shelters, entombs and keeps prying eyes at bay. Though you could and probably would climb the cliffs eventually had you the chance, the waterfall cave is enchantingly inviting and you are drawn towards the twinkling curtain that hides it most cunningly, without pausing for thought. The path proves no challenge for your claws and muscle and so you make your way through the Wet into the cave beyond and find it, in a word, breathtaking.  Glistening in all colours of the spectrum, the earthen walls reflect what sunlight passes through the entrance tenfold through amplification within the delicate quartzveins embedded in the dirt and soil. What's more, bioluminescent flowers of unmatched beauty bloom amidst the rainbow spectacle giving the whole area the unearthly feel of some ancient temple of fertility and beauty. You retch, and only partially because of the deadly neurotoxins in the air to which you are thankfully mostly immune to thanks to your undead heritage and mummyriffic constitution, but decide to hold your breath and nose just in case of further, more kill-aborate odours.  Going further still, the cavern splits of into overgrown tunnels moving downward and another large, much darker chamber filled with vines and a frankly ludicrous amount of foliage in all manner of shapes and sizes, none of them natural. You risk squinting with your third eye at this point if only to confirm your suspicions. Yes, this is magic. Yes, the source of all this abundance is nearby, within.  It will take you a while to clear out enough space to fit Lord AK UT EN inside but once you do, it should be smooth sailing, so to speak. Out of an abundance of caution you check the tunnel as well, and whilst the vines do probe it's depths they are nowhere near as vibrant and zestful, eventually giving way to hard rock, stone and matte but faintly glowing crystal.  Going further still you delve into a deeper darkness, where mortals eyes avail you naught. Peering then with a combination of scent and magic-sense, you probe the black unto its furthest reaches, glad for the narrowing, claustrophobic walls at it means you do not have to go much further before you can call the caves 'secure'.  You reach the end a short while later, as a faintly echoing drip heralds some source of moisture, an underground pond that throughout the centuries has pooled at the very bottom of the complex. You sense movement within, for life always finds a way, a simple-minded creature as much mineral as it is organic; part lizard, part fish. A curious curiosity that poses no danger to once such as you.   1: Satisfied with your work, you ascend once more into the light to prepare the way for your Lord. His sarcophagus is pretty heavy. You'll need to figure out some way to move him... A: Just get him inside as soon as possible, felling a nearby tree and carrying the Sarcophagus on your back. B: But you want to do it even faster. Use the plentiful mana available to levitate the Sarcophagus over. C: Slow and steady wins the race, you take your time and scavenge the ship for enough planks to build a secure platform, letting you cross the gap with a modicum of Royal Finesse. D: What is the point of doing anything if you don't do it with style? You harvest even more of the ship to make some sort of pulley contraption to ferry the sarcophagus across, suspended in mid-air by sturdy ropes. 2: And somewhere to put him... E: Just behind the waterfall is fine. There is plenty of mana and he would be obscured from view. F: Further down, in the overgrown section. You are pretty sure it is a Font, which is like a Nexus but more. In laymans terms, the place is brimming with magic potential. It'll take you some time to cut through the foliage though, but you'll be underground anyway, so what is the harm? G: Down where flora ebbs and the depths begin, where walls of pale crystal provide the faintest of light. Deep enough and beyond the more blinding Sources that your thaumic signature should be unreadable, and there is plenty of room. A good place for a nights rest. H: Where light treads not is where your Lords Re-Unlife should begin. Bring him into the darkness. Birth him from the Black. 3: And then? I: You wait. Write-in if you figure out some way to pass the time, otherwise we will skip until something happens. B: You stand vigil by the entrance. C: You stand vigil by the Sarcophagus. D: Something else that is not simply waiting. Write-in.
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Jan 28, 2023 14:20
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BFB
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Jan 28, 2023 15:39
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DFI If we are going to do anything, we will do it with style. We shall guard the sarcophagus near the mana font, but we shall use the time to study magic from "An Introduction to Vibromancy". If there were any other books on magic in the ship, we shall bring them up with the sarcophagus. Who knows how long we will need to wait, reading material will help us strengthen ourself as we pass the time.
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Jan 28, 2023 15:54
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1C - It would be *real* embarrassing to drop our current boss, but let’s not tear apart too much of the ship, since we may need it again. 2H - We can’t possibly pass up on the dramatic potential offered here! 3C - …but we’d better keep a close eye on our guy in case something from the darkness happens to like the taste of mummies. PepperedMoth fucked around with this message at 22:51 on Jan 28, 2023 |
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Jan 28, 2023 19:56
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CGB
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Jan 28, 2023 21:10
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If we use the mana, would that be noticeable? I would rather not leave a glowing "I am here" trail
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Jan 29, 2023 03:37
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1a2f3c
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Jan 29, 2023 04:15
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Volmarias posted:If we use the mana, would that be noticeable? I would rather not leave a glowing "I am here" trail In a low-mana environment, under ideal conditions, identifying a spell cast by a master magician would be akin to looking at a zen garden and figuring out which line in the sand was raked backwards, whereas the trail of someone who has just started their magical journey might look more like they were practicing their Curling. A Font is more like a sandstorm. The problem is more to figure out if anything has been cast at all. That said, the different schools of magic leave different sorts of traces, and opposing schools tend to contrast the most, which might make certain castings easier to spot in areas which are heavily flavored for one specific element or school. In Lord AK-UT-EN's case, his necromancy would be a dark stain on the pristine positive aura of the region, but you levitating something should be much, much harder to spot. If you can pull it off.
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Jan 29, 2023 19:29
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AGB
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Jan 29, 2023 20:26
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CGC
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Jan 29, 2023 21:59
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1C 2H 3C E: wonder if the boss had any working Ushabti on the ship that could handle this stuff for us? Can prolly ask after they wake up, every good dungeon needs its imps/goblins/pawns/grunts/etc to go around building and handling upkeep. Arcanuse fucked around with this message at 01:42 on Jan 30, 2023 |
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Jan 30, 2023 01:25
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