In the wretched darkness within a massive pillow...
Sigmund, as soon as he feels content at the way the pillow seems to not be moving, attempts to break out.
[Sigmund's strength roll: 4+1]
A mere pillow, no matter how giant and strange, can stop one empowered by the dark! Fearsomely yet quietly struggling for a bit, Sigmund tears himself free of the confines of the leathery thing, falling down on what feels like soft, dry grass, and crumples in a similar way. Finding that he can't see jack in this darkness, he has the clever thought of looking at all this from a more metaphysical standpoint, at which point he notices that the air around here seems to have knots, as do different minerals in the walls and the floor, and each individual plant - unfortunately, there is absolutely no way to tell any of them apart without close study, it seems!
Also, there's something clickety-clacking nearby, and a few whistles emanate from a short distance. Judging from the way the whistles are getting closer and slowly joined by more, Sigmund guesses that he may have set off some kind of alarm.
In a dead-end tunnel...
Kevin is made slightly uncomfortable by the conspicuous absence of his best... well, not really friend, but at least a dude who may or may not have had his back in a pinch. Now he's stuck here with only Art, and experience indicates that this is hardly a thing helping his survival in any way.
"Uh... Uuuuhhh..." he says, looking around the area for any secret passages that Sigmund, in his endless canniness, could have disappeared into. When that produces no results, he begins feeling around the walls, eventually finding something - a hole! An invisible one, slightly larger than the circumference of his arm, one he can sort of plunge his hand into, feeling a certain suction of air pulling at his arm while he does so. A vent, looks like. An ensorcelled one at that!
But before Kevin can properly extrapolate the meaning of all this, a flash of light and a loud "Aagh!" interrupts him. Swiveling around, Kevin notices Art, standing in the light, looking very unsettled.
"Something grabbed hold of my legs!" Art says. "I think it ran away when I did that flash thing."
In the main dining hall of the Red Tower of Power...
Niklas is not very happy about still not knowing what it is his boon did, suspecting that such knowledge could indeed come in handy if he wanted to, you know, use it and stuff.
"Aw man. Ah well, I suppose it'll just come back to bite me in the ass later, or other body part if I don't have an ass at the time."
"Very well. Enough questions, time to say goodbye," Fat Candace says.
"Goodbye!" Lifeboy says right before the entire world turns into fine dust, blowing away gently to reveal a very cozy office whose owner seems to be a great fan of wood - everything here seems to be either made of it or paneled with it, and little to no other materials are visible. And yet there's little to no traces of any organic aesthetic to it all despite the fact that it's ostensibly all made of the remains of living things.
In the middle of an office is a desk, cluttered with various papers and parchments in all manner of scripts, from what look like love letters to very important, if visibly stained official documents. At this desk sits a middle-aged man in a black and red horizontally striped sleeveless robe, very muscular, with extensively tattooed arms and a shaved head. His rough face is dominated by a huge black, bushy mustache entirely obscuring both his upper and lip. Even Niklas suspects that this may be more than slightly questionable from a fashion standpoint. The fellow gets up, leaning forward on his desk, focusing with one eye on Lifeboy and with the other on Niklas unsettlingly.
"I see you're here. Ambassadors, right?" he says after a moment.
"She's the ambassador, I'm the assistant!" Lifeboy answers, pointing at Niklas.
"Yes, yes. Let me get your equipment," he says, rooting around in his pocket for a good twenty seconds before coming up with an item - a small blue gem with a black core set inside a golden frame. He hands it to Niklas. "Press the gem to your forehead every once in a while. Once a week will do, but you can do it more often if there's something important. Listen to the king and the advisors. Somebody asks you to do something or brings a matter to your attention, say that the request or concern has been duly noted. When you put the gem to your head, the operator will know what you know, and questions will be heard. Somebody asks you a question, answer something smart-sounding. Doesn't have to be true, but at least plausible. Also, try not to make an ass of yourself. Any questions?"
In the dining room of Castle Melville...
Morton feels that they are ready to depart.
"It seems we're indeed ready to depart," he says, rotating affirmatively, quite ready to depart. "We will be most certain to take you up on your generous offer, good Lady Melville, hopefully with more news," he says, his drawers and surface curling up in a vaguely smile-like formation that Lady Melville does seem to comprehend the meaning of.
"I wish you safe travels, friends," Lady Melville replies, smiling back, and both Justine and Tailor Craig bid respectful farewells together with Morton.
"When it comes to our future engagement of black magicians, Morton, I will try very hard not to set you on fire. However, whilst fire is a symbol of purity, it casts the biggest shadows, reflecting the poor mental state of anyone crazy or stupid enough to wield the violent and willful forces of almost pure energy. And let's not even dwell on the fact that my handling of telekinesis is barely adequate and I will most likely smash you apart against a wall or something. Although I suspect the rogues we will face will have no inkling into the foul and awe-inspiring powers lurking inside an animate desk and a torched and mangled floating head, and will faint when we reveal our might," Scott pipes up, still on about something that the rest don't seem to have quite chosen to linger on. The room is silent for a few moments, then the world shatters, revealing the group to be outside the castle, same as where they entered.
"We now know more than we did, I suppose," Justine says.
"And I don't feel like I am completely in the dark anymore," Tailor Craig mentions.
In the Temple of Automaton Worship...
Darren, thinking that ecstasy's probably a good thing in most cases, tells his friend to keep the card, which she does, and keeps his own card as well, and, since he's presumably kept his own previous card as well, has a total of two cards.
And then, suddenly, both of his cards disappear, and a thought runs through his mind - sixteen and fifteen is thirteen, BUGBEAR!
Darren isn't sure he likes the sound of that, or the feeling that immediately follows. A chill flows through him, though there is no apparent result that comes of it. His friend, though, seems to have undergone a much more dramatic change, beginning to glow brightly and emanating an aura of virtue and grace. Guess Darren has chosen well.
"Huh. Exaltation. What did you get?" she asks.
Author
Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 564253 times)