In a stream of gentle pink...Kevin, feeling himself to be on a roll after this latest catastrophe, tries to will himself to be elsewhere.
[Kevin's magic roll:
1-2]
He closes his eyes and tries to shut out the pink - this proves surprisingly easy, considering how unintrusive the pink is being. He imagines himself elsewhere, somewhere safe, and warm, and presumably not in the middle of a violent discharge of pink... a tropical island of some sort, perhaps. Yes, that's it. A place of no worries, no troubles...
Feeling a gentle peace descend upon him, Kevin takes a look around. A gentle sea of pink sloshes behind him, small waves washing onto a beach of salmon sands. Pink palm trees with nearly white leaves sway this way and that, and slightly away from the beach he can see a pink cabbage patch with a dark pink cabin set right next to it, and in the distance beyond a line of palm trees he can spot another body of pink, leading him to suspect that he may have inadvertently set himself on an atoll rather than an island.
Oh well, small mistakes, right?
In the skies above Eckledun...Scott has a sudden terrible realization.
~FRANCIIIIIIINE!~ he screams with his mind in some fashion as he dives down at a rapid rate, hoping to catch the poor mage before she hits the ground, moving into what he suspects would approximate the sub-orbital flight trajectory she might have taken (well, as far as he remembers).
Or, well, he tries to. Truth is, he's about three or so kilometers above what he would expect the peak of her flight to be. On one hand, this would mean she's probably already hit the ground somewhere. On the other hand, he didn't really see or hear her when he flew up, which would seem like something even he could notice if she was falling down past him.
These facts taken together paint a slightly mystifying picture, one that gives Scott a moment's pause.
In a stone chamber with too many holes in it...Sigmund takes a very prudent amount of steps away from the hole, finding himself a bit wary of opening it again. In the meantime, he continues his lifting of the phylactery up to his own level, spending a few moments bringing it up until he encounters something in the shaft. The phylactery lightly brushes up against something oddly hard and, in fact, slightly mobile, which strikes Sigmund as the start of some form of problem. He begins to consider it.
His thoughts, however, are interrupted by a great big slam on the wall he just closed, dust falling from it and some from the chamber ceiling as well. His phylactery turns a little as something moves past it. His rather hastily shaped wall, meanwhile, appears to have very noticeably cracked.
Inside a spinning void eel...Morton, rather than forging ahead like your average adventuring sort, takes a moment to appreciate the situation.
"Good news, good mage Wilma. I believe we've found good surgeon Mark," he concludes first of all.
"You mean the giant thing? I... don't think that's her," she replies, raising an eyebrow.
His insight unappreciated, he takes a quick look both forward and backward, trying to make sense of this situation. Unfortunately, it does seem to be spinning a bit too fast and, he suspects, rather uncontrollably at that, with larger and smaller bits of debris flitting past at breakneck speeds, to appreciate much in the way of detail. And the blackness all around is certainly not helping.
Of course, it's not
impossible he'd be perfectly safe if he just flew clear of this thing. There's probably a perfectly plausible physical explanation for why he'd be fine, even. He can't say he can come up with anything of the sort in his current state, however.
"I'm... getting a bit dizzy looking at all this," good mage Wilma comments. Meanwhile, the giant salamander thing grows smaller with each revolution, seemingly intently following what is in all likelihood good surgeon Mark.
In a less spinny iteration of the void...Mark has never been one to give in to sensible objection, and just keeps on paddling awkwardly with all his might, unsure if it's actually helping. He paddles and paddles, not looking back, and the salamander just keeps on yelling after him and swimming in turn.
"STOP! DON'T MAKE ME CHASE AFTER YOU! YOU'RE JUST MAKING ME MORE MIFFED! GAH!It goes on like this for a while, actually.
"... CAN'T ESCAPE! I'M COMING FOR... AH, SOD IT! BE THAT WAY! FLY OFF! SEE IF I CARE!"And with that, the yelling stops, and Mark sees the salamander off in the far distance, looking a bit out of breath, its chest moving rapidly. Seems like it's a bit exhausted, poor thing. And now it appears to have turned around and started to swim back toward where he was - can't even see where he was from here, actually.
Looking forward, Mark sees the red light in the unspeakable distance. No doubt he'll reach it eventually, given that it seems to have gone from a pinprick of light to something just under the size of a poppy seed of light.
Author
Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 565260 times)