In the cargo hold of the Second Shank...Sigmund, disappointed with the lack of success in the focus writing department, keeps the only one that turned out any good - the air funneling one - and writes out the other four spells he's got in mind on his other sheets of paper, then attempts to turn them all into foci.
[Sigmund's focus creation rolls: 3, 3, 1, 2]
The first two seem to become very weak foci for some reason. And the last two don't seem to be changed at all... that is, until the "repel air" focus starts acting up, beginning to levitate unsteadily. It seems that magic does not like Sigmund for some reason.
On the deck of the Second Shank...Scott, hoping that it doesn't necessarily have to be a limbless life for him, tries to summon up his limbs from the deep.
[Scott's ghost-summoning roll: 4-
2]
Sadly, though, limbs consistently fail to appear in the next few minutes. Maybe because they don't have souls, Scott supposes. While he thinks about that, though, he notices something on deck. The Captain. And around him, he sees... shadows, he thinks. Cowering, whimpering shadows, most of them human-sized, but many quite a bit smaller.
In the den of the Second Shank...Mark, having carefully listened to the conversation between Lizzie and
Kevin, realizes he can actually contribute! He immediately runs over to a wall and begins to write on it while they speak.
"A dog as lifemage, eh? I wonder what the story behind that is...""Dog's not a lifemage. He just barks really loudly," Lizzie says, laughing at the notion.
"That's literally all the magic he can do. But, like I said, he knows lots and lots of lore, and he's pretty good with artifacts, so I'd expect him to fit right in. Besides, he's a dog. His very presence in the larger meetings ought to give the entire place a more friendlier atmosphere. Hopefully he's housebroken."At this moment, Mark's done with his message.
I talked to the whip man he seemed nice though I was crying over a fallen friend and wasn't paying much attention.Lizzie notices the sentence almost immediately, probably because it's right there on the wall in large, bright yellow letters.
"Huh. Didn't expect him to contribute to the conversation. Yeah, I guess that guy's kind of nice. Helped a dog realize what must have been its lifelong dream, after all."Morton, meanwhile, speaks to Art while steadfastly trying to ignore the passing of what amounts to about 60 lives getting passed around.
"Yes, theater is always quite the experience, isn't it? I've never quite been one to attempt myself, but I've always enjoyed watching during my formative years and on, occasionally helping others practice if I could," he says while shuffling slowly away from Lizzie's vicinity. He's definitely sure he doesn't like people who have thousands of souls they got from gods know where put away for future use.
"Well, theater was fun and all, but I don't much enjoy watching it, you know? I like to perform more. Improvisation especially."Charming conversation, really, but Morton feels he should leave now. Quickly.
"If you'll excuse me, good mage Art, but I believe I'll go follow your advice and attempt to speak with mage Evelyn. I'd love to continue this conversation at a later date however, if you wouldn't mind. It's not often I meet another fan of theater after all," he says, and Art nods, getting back to his book. Within a minute, Morton is back on deck, where he finds Evelyn, still being bloody and ducklike, perched on the forecastle and overlooking the sea. He also spots the Captain giving what seems to be some kind of speech to a host of ethereal beings - Morton hesitates to call them ghosts, exactly. They definitely don't resemble Justine... or Scott, who also appears to have been turned into a ghost, or at least his head has... they look more like living shadows, really. He must say that the warped sound of whimpering, more doglike than human, coming from them is a little unsettling.
In the Realm of Love...Timothy kind of likes this extremely helpful person. Now he's all magically-empowered and whatnot, and it only cost him his soul!
"Yep, dat's be good! Thanks!" he says, grinning. Then a thought occurs to him.
"...What's youse name, anyways?""MY NAME? THAT'S A SECRET, SORRY. BUT I AM THE DEMON OF LOVE, THE BEST HOST ACROSS THE MULTITUDINOUS DIMENSIONS, AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!"The demon is about to snap its fingers, but then remembers something midway, stopping in place.
"OH, RIGHT! ONE THING. YOU SHOULD KNOW - THOSE POWERS YOU GOT, THEY DON'T WORK ON YOURSELF. ENJOY! AND HEY, THANKS FOR THE BUSINESS!"It then completes the snap, and everything melts away around Timothy, the bright colors of the Realm of Love giving way to a large, drab (though that may only be in comparison to the Realm of Love) stretch of open countryside. There's no civilization currently in sight, though the place looks quite temperate, maybe a bit on the warm side. There is a rather tall hill he can see nearby with a trail leading to it, plus a road running along the plains, rising above the surrounding meadow by a rather large margin.
In an artifact weapon-pet store...Darren tries to save the reputation of stage magic from the scorn of this pet store woman.
"It's not lying, it's like storytelling. I try to make them forget about their lives and troubles and restore their sense of wonder. It doesn't hurt them, and it's an entertaining way for me to make my pay.""Yes," says the woman. Darren briefly expects her to continue, but she doesn't seem to be in the mood for it. Oh well.
He continues to try and teach her misdirection, but the woman is still lacking in enthusiasm, it seems, and makes little progress. She doesn't seem to be trying very hard now.
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Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 561900 times)