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 lineart by Chris Puglise, colour by Malkamok quote:We are Exiles from the world of light, resting round a bonfire in the dark and bitter lands far from home. Some of us may have ventured here recently, others may be ancient. All have gathered old weapons and armour and other tools and trinkets like martial magpies. Their bygone names and histories hang heavy on our shoulders, and the only way to shed this burden is to tell one another the stories of the things we carry and clothes we wear.
What's this game? Exiles is a world-building game by SA poster Joe Slowboat, inspired by the lore of FromSoft games like Demon’s Souls and the Dark Souls series—specifically, the droplets of lore on item descriptions and loading screens. Most of the game takes place with the characters sitting round a bonfire, explaining histories and discussing their possessions before occasionally wandering out into the dark and hostile world again. How do we play? (some of these terms, like "Bonfire phase", "Darkness phase", and the "bright/fading/quiet/silent" levels in the next part, aren't used in the original game, but they make it a little easier to talk about these parts of the game) The game’s split into two phases: the Bonfire phase and the Darkness phase. We take turns posting in the Bonfire phase; the Darkness phase is more about gathering prompts for the next Bonfire phase. When the exiles are at the bonfire, they tell histories through the possessions they all carry—what they are, what their near and far history is, where they were found, and so on. Most of the lore is given by people other than the exile who owns the item. These items can be weapons, armour, clothing, trinkets, or other things. After a while, every exile will fall silent; this marks the end of the Bonfire phase. After that, we can start a new Bonfire phase or move to the Darkness phase. When the exiles travel into the darkness, they leave the safety of the bonfire and wander through the dark lands around them. This can lead them to further treasures, or great glories, or terrible dangers—even death, or worse fates. When everyone’s done with their choice, people can return to the bonfire and we start a new Bonfire phase with whoever came back (if an exile doesn’t return, they skip everything til the next Darkness phase, where they might meet the others again). What does a turn look like? During Bonfire phases, we write turns from the immediate PoV of our exile (first- or third-person). We go down the play order, and on each turn you can either:
The Darkness phase is a lot simpler: If you choose to leave the bonfire, roll on the d10 table of Adventures (and, if it comes up, the d6 table of Misfortunes) to get some prompts for what happens on your travels. When—or if—you return to the bonfire, before beginning the Bonfire phase, you can tell the others as much or little you want about what happened on your travels. You can also work the stories into your regular turns. If you don't return from your travels, just say that you didn't return and be silent for the rest of the phase. If you choose not to leave the bonfire, you can only describe one new item before the next Darkness phase. The order we post our returns is the new play order until the next Darkness phase. (everything above is just my interpretation and some thinking about how this might work best played PbP and can change if it doesn't work out) The Items A Resonance Tooth (Laval → lost): description: a tooth-shaped amulet with a fine chain repaired with mismatched links land of origin: the First Miller's Pond, in Ashford distant history: crafted into amulets and used for magical protection recent history: in the possession of a travelling medical merchant of Peratoria provenance A Relanchian Coinwork Arisaid (Yseult): description: a deep green cloak into which coins of many ages and denominations are sewn like scales land of origin: Relanche, after which it has been extensively repaired and transformed distant history recent history: taken from a slain demon by a sinister warrior who was not Yseult provenance A Sealord's Remnant (Verdrim): description: a whetstone that that can sharpen blades that don't exist land of origin: the remains of the Great Hyren in the seabed of the dried-up Boiling Sea distant history: possessed by Trystan-Roy, the murderous mad king of Port-au-Lys in Carcaraque recent history: sought after by the contracted hunter Eigenrott after disappearing following Trystan-Roy's death provenance: retrieved from Eigenrott's corpse after the hunter was killed by a monstrous swampbeast a fae figure in a cage (Knock): description: a little figure, eyes a-glitter, trapped in a cage of steel wire land of origin: the subterranean cities of troglodytes, who use them to see on the surface distant history recent history provenance White King Willowbark (Laval → Knock): description: a strange crimson poultice, smelling like petrichor, in a small clay jar with the emblem of Peratoria land of origin: a curse-breaking medicine formed by trapping a "volunteer" in a century-old sacred tree, burning it down, and mixing the ashes with Stellar Mint Oil provenance: Laval was given a jar directly after witnessing it being created not by saints but by chirurgeons as a child A Timeskip Obsidian Mirror (Yseult): description: a slab of polished volcanic glass that reflects oneself in other times, at other places land of origin: the Marcarcha Volcano, always-erupting and never flowing distant history recent history provenance The Blade of Maybe (Verdrim): description (see also here): a jewelled, tarnished hilt with no blade land of origin distant history: wrenched apart from its original blade by a sinister warrior who was not Yseult, who sat by the very bonfire the Exiles gather round recent history: seen caught up in a noose in Godhead's Wound by Laval during the first Darkness phase provenance Chirurgeons' Emblem (Knock → Laval): description: an iron token cut off a white sash, with the emblem of the chirurgeons of Peratoria—two snakes binding an arm—which allegedly as the power to turn away attacks land of origin: confirmed as Peratorian by both Laval and Verdrim distant history recent history provenance Flying Viper greaves (Laval): description: bronze greaves moulded in the shape of feathers land of origin: worn by the Flying Vipers mercenary company from the lowlands, who raged through Carcaraque distant history: possibly used by the Flying Vipers to kill the lesser Padishah of Cheam (Cheam may not have existed) recent history provenance: given to Laval as a member of the Flying Vipers in Carcaraque Cerberoi collar (Knock): description: a brass arm-collar with a complex design and inner glow, bound unbreakably to a monstrous arm land of origin: matches the armour of the Cerberoi of Antrim distant history recent history provenance Essence of Time (Yseult): description: a caustic flesh-melting reagent kept in a pearlescent vial land of origin: produced in a manufactorium in Peratoria, until the Accident distant history: created in a complex process of serial distillation, or possibly "[milked] from the teats of the great Auroch of the Clock" recent history provenance UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 23:15 on Aug 4, 2022 |
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Jun 7, 2022 20:25
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There is already a figure at the fire, tenderly feeding it as it warms him. He is silent for now. Were he to speak, he might introduce himself. I am Verdrim of Peratoria. I cannot return to my beloved homeland because it doesn't exist yet. It will not be founded for a long while after I am dead and gone. I make my way through this darkened land through sheer luck and careful consideration. At the fire, you will soon notice my greater than usual number of fingers.
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Jun 8, 2022 02:47
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Another figure sits some way out, in the light of the bonfire but not its heat. Perhaps they would introduce themselves like this: I am Laval of Peratoria. I cannot return to my homeland because it died long, long ago. I make my way in this darkened land because I am cursed to live where others would die. At the fire, you will soon notice that my eyes look not at you, but through you. UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 21:15 on Jun 10, 2022 |
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Jun 8, 2022 08:16
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Another paces around the fire, head down and face thoughtful beneath his half-helm. He is too lost in thought to speak, but if he had the presence of mind to introduce himself, you might know him as Knock of Ashford. He cannot return to the land of his origin because he was banished before it at last took flight. He makes his way in this darkened land by the edge of his blade, his cleverness, and the force of sheer aimless drive. At the fire, you will soon notice his unnaturally long limbs and the feathers sprouting beneath his cuffs.
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Jun 8, 2022 17:11
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The last figure sits on a stone, next to the flames. She sorts through herbs and flowers, throwing those not to her liking into the fire. She is entirely absorbed by her task, if you were to disturb her, she might introduce herself as follows: I am Yseult de Carcaraque. I cannot return to my homeland because I was banished by its laws. I make my way in this darkened land by cunning and insight, sharp as a knife. At the fire, you will soon notice my forked tongue, nervously darting out from behind my long, sharp teeth.
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Jun 8, 2022 21:45
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LAVAL has been subtly turning something over in his hands, and as Verdrim tends the flame the rising light glints off the now-obvious trinket. LAVAL (to nobody in particular): In this land, things have learnt to walk that ought to swim. The warrior holds it up: a large, polished, dagger-sharp tooth linked to a loop of fine metal chain interspersed roughly with larger and smaller links, crudely bent into place. The amulet is simple, utilitarian, inexpertly-made, but the tooth is fearsome. LAVAL: You see this? Pretty little thing. They tap it with a rough fingernail. A chime sounds around the fire, unnaturally loud and resonant for such a small thing. LAVAL: Once I got the blood off, anyway. - Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Quiet:
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Jun 10, 2022 19:35
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VERDRIM looks up sharply at the sound, eyes drawn towards its source. His gaze widens in surprise as he beholds LAVAL’s trinket, frowning as if disheartened by what he sees. VERDRIM: It can’t be. Is that… Is that a Resonance Tooth? his tone is questioning, almost incredulous. He approaches for a closer look, vexation wrought large upon his features. VERDRIM: Long has it been since I last saw one. That sound, it’s supposed to generate a protective field, at least from the ones I remember. But those were masterworks, finely-wrought with elegant filigree chains. The tooth is the same, but it looks as if the chain has been replaced and replaced and replaced since then, though I do not know what effect that would have. I can vaguely recall the names of some of the artisans they were ascribed, Viluemo or Kordozan, but I forget the rest. Troubled, VERDRIM resumes his place by the fire, quelled into thoughtfulness. - Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria Quiet:
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Jun 10, 2022 20:24
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KNOCK barks a laugh suddenly, then bites it off self-consciously. He rubs the back of his neck, gangly limbs making it look unpleasantly arachnoid. Aware of the eyes on him, he begins to speak, softly. KNOCK: A Tooth? Is that what they call it here? Aye, I suppose it does look like one… Plainly uncomfortable, he mutters for a while, then draws closer to the fire, drawing in the ashy sand with a stick. KNOCK: These things hail from Ashford - or hailed, at any rate… Used to find them growing in the First Miller’s Pond, covering every surface and growing larger the deeper you dared. They came off readily enough if you pried at them with a chisel, but the big ones could be… troublesome. They hauled in the magics of that cursed place like siphons, and it invested them to fearsome effect. To think that I could find some so far from home almost beggars belief… KNOCK reaches out a rough, taloned hand towards the Tooth, then withdraws as though stung, the sharp motion puffing loose a patter of downy feathers like dandruff. KNOCK: Well, so it goes. I’d rather forget the rest, all things being equal. He turned to go, then abruptly sank down onto a nearby log to watch the fire and the evening’s companions from closer up. Bright: Laval of Peratoria,Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Quiet:
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Jun 14, 2022 19:23
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YSEULT remains focused on her task as the others talk. She finishes sorting through the herbs and stuffs them into a small bag. Her long cloak jingles as she stands up and stretches. She gazes out at the sky. YSEULT (to no one): Is it really time already, it is so hard to keep track out here. She slowly counts on her fingers, brow furrowed in concentration. She shrugs and pulls up the hem of her cloak, revealing that it is covered in dozens of coins sown to the deep green fabric. They are of all shapes, sizes and colours, some are old and rusty, some are brand new, some are dull as stone, others shiny as emeralds. She lifts the cloak this way and that, looking for the right spot. It jingles. YSEULT sits back down at the fire and pulls out another small pouch. She takes out some thread and an old needle and lays them next to the fire. She then takes out a small coinpurse, opens it and upends it. A single golden coin falls out. YSEULT hisses loudly. She pick up the coin, polishes it with her sleeve and holds it out, catching the light of the fire. She bites the coin with her sharp fangs, making a hole big enough for the needle and prepares to sow it onto the cloak. YSEULT: I have heard it said before that there are only two things certain in life. Bright: Laval of Peratoria,Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Quiet:
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Jun 14, 2022 20:59
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LAVAL (to the cloak): Hm. How many bloody bodies have you been torn from, I wonder...? A beacon lights up in the distance, then another, then another, unnoticed or unremarked by those present here. LAVAL (to YSEULT): I say this because the last I saw that garment it was being hauled off the corpse of a demon, and I don't believe you were the one I saw doing the hauling. That person had a more robust frame, wore armour the colour of rust, and carried a bandolera of decapitated mortal heads that chanted prayers of intercession relentlessly. They were quite striking. You too, of course, in your own way, but that just makes it all the more obvious to me it wasn't yours to begin with. Still... LAVAL fishes a bent coin out of a pouch at their waist, flattens it back into shape with a clap of their palms, and flicks it to YSEULT. LAVAL: It does look quite fetching. - Bright: Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria Quiet: UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 20:19 on Jun 19, 2022 |
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Jun 15, 2022 15:00
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VERDRIM glances at the cloak, but no recognition bells toll in his mind. Instead, he pulls out a whetstone and a jewelled if tarnished hilt, and begins methodically working the stone along where a blade would be if there was one. The unmistakable sound of metal being sharpened echoes from his seat by the fire. VERDRIM (Quietly, as an aside): Sometimes I wonder if this place abhors the normal, the regular, the mundane. Wonders unimaginable, curiosities by the dozen, oddities in a neverending stream... This monologue is punctuated by the sound of whetstone on metal. It is unclear what kind of metal, but the sound is somewhat off. VERDRIM (Continuing the aside): But a simple, straightforward tool that simply does what it was made to do is rarer than hen's teeth. The fact that that's a nonzero number of hen's teeth is an equally distressing matter. Bright: Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria Quiet:
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Jun 16, 2022 00:54
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KNOCK’s eyes bulged lightly as he listened to VERDRIM work, then he slapped his knee with a gangly arm and laughed. Too loudly, for such a somber scene. KNOCK: Pardon, pardon. I couldn’t help spying that whetstone of yours. That’s a Sealord’s Remnant, isn’t it? That’s why it sounds like you’re running your blade underwater. They say those are made from… what’s the blasted term, read it in some rotten book once… ‘sedimentary remains of the Great Hyren’. They don’t look like much, but apparently once the great thing died, decomposed, all that, little bits of it mingled with the silt and whatnot at the bottom of the Boiling Sea. And then over time it… turned to rock? KNOCK gestures as he speaks, trying in vain to capture through pantomime the half-understood process of sedimentary lithification. KNOCK: …Anyhow, the Boiling Sea’s gone now, and they’ve quarried great chunks of it out. You’re holding in your hand a bit of some great ancient beast, and you’re using it to sharpen your blade. Ha, ‘abhors the normal’. I like that. Well put. You can’t even pick up a rock without it having some greater history. He chuckles, then throws a handful of seeds into the fire. They pop and crackle, momentarily staining the fire violet before it dies down. Bright: Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Laval of Peratoria Quiet: Knock of Ashford Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 13:19 on Jun 18, 2022 |
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Jun 18, 2022 12:29
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YSEULT catches the coin LAVAL flicks at her. She looks at it and her own, weighing them. She puts her coin back into the pouch and starts sowing LAVAL's coin to the cloak. At the sound of VERDRIM's whetstone: YSEULT (to herself): No, it can't be! YSEULT stares at the stone as KNOCK talks, as if entranced. The pop and crackle of the seeds make her jump. YSEULT (to Verdrim, hesitantly): I think I know this stone... may I... examine it closer? VERDRIM looks vexed at the request, but pauses in their maintenance, offering up the tool. YSEULT carefully cups the whetstone with both hands and slowly brings it closer. She licks the stone with her forked tongue and recoils. YSEULT: I have encountered this stone before, I remember it. (To herself) Though I wish I did not. (To the others): Its greater history is not limited to its origin. This used to belong to Trystan-Roy, the mad king of Carcaraque. He kept it in his bedchambers, in the highest spire of Port-au-Lys. He used to spend hours and days sharpening , sharpening, sharpening. Whatever came to hand. Blades, tools, furniture, people. YSEULT rubs the whetstone with her cloak and hands it back. YSEULT: Be careful stranger, I don't know how this stone came into your possession after Trystan-Roy was killed, but I have seen it cause much suffering. I have felt it... nevermind. Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet: Knock of Ashford
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Jun 19, 2022 17:38
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LAVAL: I might be able to help you with that. Not that I know where it came into the good sir's hands, but I do know a little something about your mad king there. A bitter little bastard I know—haven't seen him in some time—said he was in Carcaraque in the season of the king's death, and there was an all-out brawl for that stone. Courtiers and servants and all, dozens of castle-folk fighting for it, and it just vanished in the squabble. Anyway, this bastard was contracted to find it again, and the few times I've met him his tactics veered from thuggery to bribery to bloody murder. Those times he was less violent, he was offering quite a high price in coin for any hints as to the stone's whereabouts, too. On the authorisation of whoever wanted the stone, that is. Eigenrott, that was his name. Maybe a name-in-trade, who can say. They lean back gregariously and, for the first time, look directly at one of the other assembled travellers—smiling unevenly at VERDRIM. LAVAL: Not that I think he'd have any way of getting such reward to us, or that such reward would have much use for any... most of us. LAVAL (hushed, to YSEULT): Is it just me, or does this man not know his history? Even I've heard of the mad king of Carcaraque. - Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet: Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria
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Jun 19, 2022 20:18
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VERDRIM frowned at his temporally-adrift compatriot LAVAL, or was it HE who was adrift? VERDRIM, with weariness and sorrow: Eigenrott won't be paying anyone, any more. He succeeded in his mission. He failed to complete it. VERDRIM rotates the Sealord's Remnant around in the palm of his hand with an easy familiarity, clearly no stranger to it. VERDRIM, continuing: It seems unlikely that this will be going back to Carcaraque, either. The tales of it are legend, the legends get darker the closer to that place. Best it stay far away. Eigenrott... What had once been Eigenrott... It shambled out of the Swamp of Sinister Alterations. It had far too many limbs in far too disparate sizes, and far too few internal organs that still functioned. It sputtered and wheezed and groaned, and the noise attracted a fell swampbeast of similar malformations. I couldn't get there in time to save it. Perhaps a mercy. The blade of maybe was enough to avenge it, at least. Of all its possessions, only the Remnant was unscathed. And so, here we are. Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria
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Jun 19, 2022 20:42
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KNOCK glances back and forth between the others, a complicated expression on his face. Discomfort? A desire to impress? Indigestion? KNOCK: I’m afraid you have me at a loss, lady and gentlemen - I have only the foggiest inclinations about Carcaraque, King or no King. My own studies have ever been geological, delving into the very depths of our history (such as it is). This myopic focus has led me to… miss out on certain historical issues of importance. One such misstep led to my exile, but, ah, that’s a path we don’t need to tread right now. One such delve, however, brought me this. Reaching deep into his cloak, KNOCK withdrew a tight-woven cage of thick steel wire that rattled and jingled as he brought it into the firelight. Inside, dimly seen through the bars, a small figure paced from side to side, tiny eyes glittering from within. KNOCK: I’d wager you’d never seen the like, but you lot seem… well-travelled. What do you make of this? A new expression on his face now: unmistakably, hunger. Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria
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Jun 22, 2022 19:26
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YSEULT: I am afraid you would indeed lose that wager. I have seen one of these little buggers before. YSEULT walks up, cape jingling, and lightly prods the cage, setting it to slowly swing back and forth. She tastes the air with her tongue. YSEULT: Yes, it was a long time ago but the smell is unmistakable. YSEULT (aside): Though hard to pick out among all the other... characteristic smells swirling around this fire. YSEULT (to the others): It was a year ago, or perhaps five, when I met a traveler from the Undercroft, from one of the big troglodyte cities, though I cannot recall which one. As most denizens of those oversized caves, they were blind as a mole on the surface. They carried a cage just like this on a long stick, told me this was a creature from their home that somehow allowed them to perceive the surface world. YSEULT leans down to get a closer look into the cage. She jumps back nervously as it rattles suddenly. YSEULT: I don't know how it is supposed to work. Never heard any of them speak or make any other intelligible sound. She slowly walks back to her spot near the fire. She walks calmly but her tongue more agitated than usual. Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: naught but the twinkling stars at dawn Quiet: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque
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Jun 25, 2022 17:08
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A long silence. LAVAL looks about and then, startled at the warped cry of some kind of bird, stands up, dusts off their shoulders, and gives a nod to each other exile and the bonfire flame itself. LAVAL: This has been an education, but it seems I have business in the darkened lands. They meander off between the heavy black branches of the giant, fallen, tree that cradles this Bonfire, into the hazy shadows. LAVAL (exiting): Be seeing you all again. I hope.
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Jun 25, 2022 18:24
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VERDRIM says nothing. They simply stand and walk away.
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Jun 25, 2022 21:17
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YSEULT waves to the two others as they leave. She stands up and slowly walks around the fire, probing the air. YSEULT: Well, I think this is where my path leads me. Take care of your little pet KNOCK. She walks off, the sound of her cloaks slowly fading into the distance.
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Jun 26, 2022 09:23
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KNOCK lingers by the fire a while longer by himself, watching the figure caper and gnaw at the bars of its cage. He scratches the feathers protruding from his cuffs. KNOCK: You and me both, brother. Let's get this over with... He stands, slapping the dust off his knees, then stows the cage. He draws out a scroll - a list? - then heads into the dark. He leaves the fire to burn itself out.
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Jun 26, 2022 12:51
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ACT 2, SCENE 1 Time passes. It's hard to tell how many days go by, if they can be called days, as the rhythm of light and dark in this place is too weak. The sky never goes truly dark, but never becomes too much brighter than the darkened lands either. Later—much later?—LAVAL weaves back through the branches and the undergrowth and is seemingly surprised to find themselves the first one returned. Their posture turns from light and free to wary when they realise they're alone at the bonfire. Twilight grey-green and bonfire red commingle on their worried face. Still, they sit—much closer than last time—and begin to stoke the flames. LAVAL (to nobody): In this land, things have learnt to walk that ought to swim. In this land, things have learnt to walk that ought to fly. In this land— UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 15:24 on Jun 28, 2022 |
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Jun 26, 2022 20:19
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A faint jingling announces YSEULT's arrival before she comes into sight. YSEULT limps forth from the underbrush, a crutch under her arm. She makes her way to the fire and sits down heavily on the remains of a small stone fence. YSEULT: Looks like I got here right in time. Late enough to not have to tend to the fire, early enough to get a good seat. YSEULT grins at LAVAL, revealing that her fangs are broken.
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Jun 26, 2022 21:01
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VERDRIM seems unwillingly drawn to the fire, as if he's trying to walk in another direction entirely but just gets closer with each step. He sees LAVAL by the fire, and the resistance and confusion drain out of him instantly, replaced by resignation. VERDRIM: A quiet run, quieter than most. There's some parts of this realm that are very pretty. So, here we are again. VERDRIM resumes his seat. He seems significantly older, or perhaps significantly younger.
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Jun 26, 2022 21:17
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KNOCK hauls something through the darkness beyond the fire's glow, grunting mightily and cursing. Whatever it is strikes sparks off the battered flagstone, but somehow sounds like a large leather bag full of wet stones - squelching and creaking and thumping. He does not bring it into the fire's light. KNOCK: Ah, you're all here. G-good. I somehow worried that... Well, you're all here. Well met. The feathers at his collar and cuffs have spread noticeably. He scratches at them as he takes a seat.
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Jun 28, 2022 00:26
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Silence. LAVAL: Well. I won't bore you with the details, but I lost that trinket I showed you last time. They slowly unwrap a red-stained bandage along their left forearm and hand and begin applying a crimson cataplasm to warped, spiralling patches of skin hidden underneath. The scent of petrichor drifts around the bonfire. When they're done, they hold up the little jar the cataplasm is kept in, turning it in the firelight. A little brass emblem is pressed into one side: the emblem of Peratoria, the country that was and will be. LAVAL (setting the jar on a nearby slate): Good sir. LAVAL (looking through VERDRIM): You seem ill-at-ease. - Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque, Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Fading: Quiet:
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Jun 28, 2022 17:40
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As LAVAL is tending to his cataplasm, YSEULT rubs her leg, as if reminded of her own injury. YSEULT then pulls out a large slab of volcanic glass. It is polished to a mirror sheen and its edges are razor sharp. When gazing at it from her side, one sees oneself, but standing in another location. When gazing at it from the other side, one sees the reflection of the bonfire, but someone else's face is peering back from the black mirror. Both the location and the other in the mirror move slightly too slowly to match the movement of the mirror or observer. YSEULT tilts the mirror this way and that, moving her head back and forth. YSEULT (to no one): Where am I? YSEULT 's eyes open wide and she recoils a little in realization. YSEULT (to no one): When am I? - Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque, Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Fading: Quiet:
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Jun 29, 2022 20:00
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VERDRIM stands and takes a pace back to meet LAVAL's gaze, shrugging. VERDRIM: To be truly at ease in a place such as this, the lands as a whole, seems both unwise and unwarranted. VERDRIM's eyes settle on the jar, clearly recognising the mark of Peratoria. His expression becomes pained with deep, unquenchable nostalgia, but he otherwise pays it little heed for now. Instead, he heads over to YSEULT. VERDRIM's reflection appears in the mirror long before it should. Between the reflection and the real, one of them is much younger than the other, one much older, though which is which is hard to say. VERDRIM, wearily but assertive, in unison with his reflection, part strained with age, part cracked with youth, to YSEULT: Here and Now. VERDRIM moves adjacent to the edge of the mirror, looking down to see both sides at once. He nods grimly then returns to YSEULT's side. VERDRIM, with that same bitonality: Yeah, I know what this is. Timeskip obsidian. Careful you don't get lost in it. Formed from the Marcarcha Volcano, which always erupts but never flows. It's extremely rare but there's an unending supply of it. VERDRIM takes a seat, staring at himself in the mirror's depths, and falls silent. Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque, Knock of Ashford Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria Quiet:
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Jun 29, 2022 20:29
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Visibly discomfited by the temporal drama, KNOCK scooches a little closer to LAVAL, gesturing sharply at their red wrapped arm. KNOCK: A little souvenir of your time out in the world, eh? Or, well... Look, I've got a little affliction of my own - He cocks his head back and forth like a bird, exposing greasy, white feathers. Up close, his greying hair is revealed to be yet more feathers creeping out of his temples. KNOCK: -and I've tried... Just about everything to keep it down. I happened upon a little jar of that stuff in my travels - pulled it off some brigand that... Oh, I hope they weren't a friend of yours... He leans away, shuffles uncomfortably, drums his fingers, leans back towards them. KNOCK: ...Soothed the curse a little, at the time. Might be too far gone, now... Used the jar up, at any rate. Anyhow, that's White King Willowbark, isn't it? Heard there's a heck of a process involved - century old tree blessed by a whole whack of saints or something in some festival. Some lucky volunteer is stuffed up inside it, then up it goes in consecrated fire. He throws a handful of fur into their own fire, causing it to cough up a greasy cloud of smoke KNOCK: Then they mix the ashes up with some Stellar Mint oil - that mostly accounts for the odor - and you've got a premier curse-breaker. Or, at least, so they say. KNOCK considers LAVAL's arm, and his own neck. KNOCK: But "they" say a lot of things. Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque, Knock of Ashford Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria Quiet: Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 04:23 on Jul 2, 2022 |
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Jul 2, 2022 01:37
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LAVAL: Oh, don't worry about the brigand. They probably pulled it off someone else. They pick up the little jar and gesture to KNOCK, and toss it to their fellow exile. LAVAL: This, I assure you, is the real thing. I know, because I was there when it was made. I was a child... ignorant. That was the first time I saw someone die. My mother made me watch. (Their gaze slowly shifts to the bonfire.) I hadn't heard about the saints. I don't think we had any saints any more, and even if we had one left we probably didn't deserve them. The chirurgeons, though, masked in white, they were the ones in charge of the whole cold affair, the calculated flame, the mandated silence. It was always that way, I suppose. They stand up to lay out sticks and logs in front of the flame, drying them out that they too might burn. LAVAL: They gave me that jar a month later. That man died for me. I wasn't given any choice in the matter. Silence. Then— LAVAL: That brigand—how were they dressed? Did they have a sash of white, by any chance? Other medicines in their pockets? Or an emblem like—(They grab up a stick and sketch frantically in the dirt.)—like this? The emblem is in the shape of two serpents wrapping round—crushing?—a grasping hand. It's well-drawn for how little time it took. - Bright: Yseult de Carcaraque Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria Quiet: UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 20:06 on Jul 7, 2022 |
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Jul 2, 2022 10:43
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YSEULT finally manages to tear her gaze away from the obsidian mirror. She notices that VERDRIM is also still staring into it and quickly wraps it in her long cloak, hiding it from view. She looks over to the symbol LAVAL drew in the dirt. YSEULT: I have seen that symbol before, not too long ago. A wandering merchant, dressed as you describe. She had quite the assortment of plant extracts and essences. Very impressive selection of poisons too, and believe me I know my poisons. YSEULT smiles a lopsided smile, forked tongue darting out from between her broken fangs. YSEULT: She was a peculiar sort, travelling through the darkened lands unarmed with a pack full of expensive reagents. She was not afraid though, she showed me some trinket that she said would keep her safe, but I've never been a big believed in trinkets and - She breaks off and pauses for a moment YSEULT (to herself): I knew that I had seen it somewhere before. (to LAVAL): And I think her trinket did not keep her safe indeed. Or at least she could not keep the trinket safe since it seems you own her Resonance Tooth now. - Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet:
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Jul 4, 2022 21:31
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VERDRIM watches YSEULT cover the obsidian mirror, unfazed. VERDRIM, back to one voice of uncertain age: I wouldn't worry overmuch about that on my behalf. I know where I am. VERDRIM pulls out the jewelled if tarnished hilt of the blade of maybe, searching his pockets for the Sealord's Remnant. VERDRIM, to himself: Now, where was it, this thing won't sharpen itself. VERDRIM pauses and considers. VERDRIM, with emphasis: Probably won't sharpen itself.
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Jul 4, 2022 21:55
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KNOCK grimaces immediately at LAVAL’s description of the snake-wrapped emblem and begins to rummage in his pockets, then frowning heads away from fire towards the carcass he’d dragged in from the wilds earlier. He returns as VERDRIM concludes his own story and thrusts an iron token at LAVAL, wrapped in a cloth that may have been white once. KNOCK: I had a sinking feeling as you were talking about it… I, er, can’t imagine from the condition that I found the fellow in that he was a member in good standing of… whatever group he was from, but he wore this proudly on his breast. He turns it over in his hands, rubbing the accumulated gunk of travel off it with white feathers. Underneath, it shines brilliantly. KNOCK: I’ve never seen the like, but whatever it is it made the killing harder. It was like every strike was yanked off target when it got close, turning a killing blow into a graze. He almost took me down because of it, but once I slashed it off his cloak, that was the end of him… Perhaps… here. He tossed it to LAVAL, then thrust his hand into his pocket as through restraining it from questing after the discarded item. He trembled lightly with the effort. KNOCK: Yeah, you should have it. I never managed to figure out the trick of the thing, anyhow, and serendipity would dictate that it should find its way back to someone who can tell it from any other shiny bauble. May it bring only… fond memories. Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Yseult de Carcaraque, Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria Quiet:
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Jul 7, 2022 17:37
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LAVAL looks hard at the sliced sash and the medallion, then holds the token over the fire—which rages in hideous cold red for a few moments before withering back to comforting orange. LAVAL (to KNOCK): It gives me fond memories to know one more of the bastards is dead, that I'll say. You did right by me, though you didn't know it, so let me do right by you: you can keep that jar. I'll manage without, and besides, it sounds like you maybe got gulled as far as that jar you've got goes. They turn to look through the flame in silence. Then: LAVAL (to YSEULT): Oh, that old tooth? I don't have it any more, and I sadly didn't strip it from her corpse. No, I lost that in Godhead's Wound, traded it for these fine spiralling scars. If you find it, feel free to keep it. Just... let me know if you see her again. And whatever you do—(now looking directly at YSEULT)—don't tell her you met me. And stay safe. People like her wouldn't hesitate to gut you and put your innards under a lens if they thought there was some petty piece of knowledge to be gained from the butchery. In fact, if you meet her again, you might be better off killing her outright. Beat. LAVAL: If you want to stay safe, ah-ha-ha... Beat. LAVAL: Well. (to VERDRIM) Fancy blade there, sir. It might come as a surprise that I saw the exact same hilt caught up in a hangman's noose in Godhead's Wound before I returned here. So many corpses strung up there, it's easy to notice something that's less or more than human. I remember you had that thing last we were all here, though, and I'm sure you weren't up at Godhead's Wound before me to leave it there and after me to get it back, so, well, maybe you should have that checked, sir. Maybe your sword's gone wandering apart from you. - Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet: Laval of Peratoria
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Jul 7, 2022 23:58
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YSEULT (to LAVAL): Your concern is touching, your warnings noted. Maybe I shall gut them to see what makes one as you so afraid of them. YSEULT's eyes wander to VERDRIM sharpening his blade. YSEULT (to herself): Hmm, I wonder if... YSEULT uncovers the timeskip mirror again and angles it towards the Blade of Maybe. In the mirror the sinister warrior (who is not YSEULT) is sitting at a bonfire, toying around with a small jewel-hilted dagger. The weapon looks tiny in their massive polished armored hands. After a while they seize the hilt with one shining silver fist and the blade with the other and pull them apart. They deftly toss the blade-half in the air and catch it by grasping the nothingness where the hilt used to be. Satisfied they turn away from the mirror, discarding the hilt. It falls but does not hit the dirt, the invisible Blade of Maybe making it seemingly hover in mid-air. YSEULT: Well that is quite the coincidence, if you believe such things still exist in this world. I do not recall them having this weapon, though I might have missed it, a small blade without a hilt would be hard to spot. Oh the uses I would have for such a dagger. - Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Quiet: Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque Fathis Munk fucked around with this message at 19:07 on Jul 9, 2022 |
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Jul 9, 2022 18:09
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VERDRIM looks over at LAVAL, then down at the hilt in his hands. VERDRIM, questioningly, to LAVAL: I've had this before, during and after my latest sojourn. Are you sure you saw it at the right time? VERDRIM's eye is drawn to the iron emblem given to LAVAL by KNOCK, and he nods in recognition. VERDRIM: Ah yes, that's Peratorian all right, I saw one of those fighting valiantly against rusty oblivion in the museum of antiquities. A relic from a darker time, I wouldn't be surprised if all the chiurgeons ended up in places like this. Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: Knock of Ashford Quiet: Verdrim of Peratoria, Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque
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Jul 9, 2022 20:17
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KNOCK takes the jar with trembling, taloned hands, shoving it deep within his travel-worn cloak. He removes his empty hands, then reaches back in, ensuring it’s stowed securely. He sketches a sharp bow, a bob of the head like a heron’s duck into the water. He sits silently as the others lapse into their own thoughtfulness. Without warning, he spins up to a full rhapsody, leaping to his feet and pointing at YSEULT. KNOCK: It’s just very odd, isn’t it? There’s like some sort of… He interlocks his fingers like he’s playing cat’s cradle, pantomiming a binding between the seated figures. KNOCK: You know? It’s just very odd that we’re finding all these connections. It can’t be a coincidence. Can’t be. You, cloak-of-coins, flower sorter - I have heard tell of this cloak, of others like it. This one isn’t the genuine article - er, I mean no offense, only that… look, there, that’s an Ashford dram, minted far more recently than most I spy. I venture that those oldest coins, those square-ish bronze ones with the hole, are part of the original vestment. The others are first attempts at repair, then a sort of aesthetic game of numismatic quiltwork… I’m getting off track, off track. Birdbrained, ha! It comes out like a squawk, and his face reddens. Shame? Anger? He waves a hand to cut past it so sharply he drops a rain of tiny feathers. KNOCK: …Point is, I’m not the sharpest scholar in the college, I just happened on a scrap of parchment describing Pre-Relanchian Coinwork Arisaids in my travels. And lo and behold… He indicates YSEULT’s cloak as though this is proof of a vast conspiracy. He walks a circle around the fire, then slumps into his seat. KNOCK: …I don’t know what it means, but I also don’t know what it matters. I just want it to be known that I know, you know? There’s something, something… Bright: naught but the blazing bonfire Fading: naught but the twinkling stars at dawn Quiet: Yseult de Carcaraque, Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford, Laval of Peratoria
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Jul 12, 2022 05:32
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Mutterings and whistlings aside, the exiles fall into silence. The sun fails to rise. Darkness falls like snow. The bonfire is now barely light enough to see the exiles by. ACT 2, SCENE 2 LAVAL suddenly stands up to stretch their legs by circling the flame. LAVAL (singing): We be soldiers three, / Pardonnez-moi je vous en prie, / Lately come forth of the low country, / With never a penny of money. As they circle closer and further, their greaves can be intermittently seen in the light: bronze moulded in the shape of bulbous feathers, as if sprouting from their ankles like some wind god's blessing. LAVAL (continuing): Here, good fellow, I drink to thee, / Pardonnez-moi je vous en prie, / To all good fellows wherever they be, / With never a penny of money... - Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque, Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Fading: Quiet:
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Jul 12, 2022 22:37
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YSEULT joins the song. YSEULT (singing): Don’t bear me ill will but pray for me / Pardonnez-moi je vous en prie, / For I’m just a poor mercenary/ With never a penny of money... YSEULT stands up as the song builds to a crescendo. YSEULT (singing): And after ransacking Port-au-Lys/ Pardonnez-moi je vous en prie, / Perhaps I’ll leave the company/ With pockets full of of money... The last verse is more raucous shout than melodious singing. Silence for a beat. YSEULT sits back down YSEULT: Yes I know that song, I heard it as a child when the mercenaries from the lowlands raged through Carcaraque. It feels like it was several lifetimes ago and by now the most offensive part is the mispronouncing of Port-au-Lys. The 'S' is not silent, though I guess that would ruin the rhyme. She looks over at LAVAL's winged greaves. YSEULT: I do wonder how you know that song. I think our moulting friend is right about strange coincidences because I also remember seeing those greaves in said past life. Perhaps you and I have met before. I think these were worn by the Flying Vipers mercenary company? YSEULT grins and wiggles her forked tongue through her broken fangs. YSEULT: How coincidental. - Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Verdrim of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Fading: Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet: Fathis Munk fucked around with this message at 20:29 on Jul 15, 2022 |
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Jul 15, 2022 20:26
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VERDRIM frowns and peers at the greaves. VERDRIM, monologuing: Flying Vipers? I thought they were a myth. Saw it in a fanciful history once, 'leaping higher than a mortal should, landing kicks fiercer than a mortal could', as the doggerel verse went. Supposedly that's how they slew the lesser Padishah of Cheam, in ages past. Not that Cheam ever existed. VERDRIM lapses into silence once more. Bright: Laval of Peratoria, Knock of Ashford Fading: Verdrim of Peratoria, Yseult de Carcaraque Quiet:
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Jul 16, 2022 03:55
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