That session was, in the literal way, awesome.
Also, just to clarify, this session happened the day after the last session in-universe, right?
Today was an exciting day. I haven't felt my blood rush like that since the night I made it into the town of Helgen.
Lady Distinda had ascertained that the portal I went through yesterday led to a keep belonging to one of her rival countesses, and asked us to capture it. So we did.
We worked our way past the doors we made it to last time, meeting nobody but the corpses of the previously-defeated ants. We worked our way through the ship, and in the room at the end, fought and engaged a dozen or so more ants. They were easy. Apparently I'm getting better at fighting.
It turned out that the fortress was actually a subaquatic ship, which could be controlled using magical panels scattered throughout it. After some divine intervention, we translated the panels, and managed to make them display our surroundings, which happened to include a gargantuan, metallic, half-dragon whale. It was apparently in communication with the duchess, who shut down our exit portal and ordered it to attack us. I could control the ship (the others were focused on keeping it operational and using its armaments), but I couldn't out-maneuver the whale. So, I rammed it with the ship, lodging the whale inside the control room. Luckily it plugged the gap, so we didn't all drown. The Engineer named One says he can... work his Engineering on the whale, and basically make it into a machine under our control. A machine that swims and spits acid. Between that and having captured a subaquatic enemy base, I think we did well today.
...All that was exciting, but I have other excitement to focus on now, that eclipses all else: a ritual I'm devising. I intend to mix the shadowstuff from the Plane of Shadow with my soul.
It's a dangerous undertaking, I admit, and sounds foolish when summed up so shortly, but I have a theory. If I use a small amount of shadowstuff, and dilute it with my own shadow (I'll sit in a room with one bright light and no others, to avoid contamination), I should avoid harming myself. Mostly. I think. I shouldn't die from it, at least. I'll make sure Falzik is in the room with me in case something goes wrong. And maybe Lawbringer as well, in case it goes very wrong. No, he's too uptight about rules and souls... Maybe Typhoon. The two of them seem trustworthy, and should be able to overpower me in the worst case scenario.
It worked. I am changed. My powers haven't changed as I had hoped, and I feel slightly drained, but I am healing. I'll be well again within a couple hours.
I feel so different. The others say I look different... very different. They say my hair, normally a soft purple, has become mottled with grey. My eyes are apparently devoid of colour. And I have some kind of black mark on my chest. I suppose I should be thankful my skin hasn't gone completely sallow, but compared to my newly-darkened hair and eyes, I look pale almost to the point of shiny.
I'm lighter now, much lighter. I'm no thinner; my clothes still fit the same. I can run a lot faster now because of it. I can jump a little higher, too. And I can ignore cold. I can still feel it, but... I took off my shirt and pressed myself against one of the ice-hewn walls of the submarine. It felt cold. Comfortably so. I think I could walk around in a snowstorm, shirtless, and be perfectly fine.
And everything looks different to me now. The shadows of peoples' facial features are still present, but I can see the details of the flesh as if they weren't. I look at the space between peoples' feet, where they cast their own shadows, and can see as clearly as the illuminated patch nearby. Everything looks so bleak to me now. In a world where light and dark don't matter, what beauty can hope to stand out? But everything looks so beautiful and organic now, too. In a world where I can see everything, regardless of light or shadow, what could hope to hide its beauty from me? I feel like a walking paradox, like a thing that should not be able to exist. I am a human that flits about with the grace of a shadow.
Or maybe I am now a shadow that walks about, wearing the flesh of a man. I can make it seem that way, certainly. I thought I had earned the right to declare myself "good at hiding" the day I snuck out of Oathtower. Maybe I was right. But I am so much better at it now. Now that I weigh less, I make less noise while moving, even my breathing is quieter. I suppose my tracks, were I to leave any, would be much harder to follow, too. But more importantly, I've discovered a trick. It's not one of the shadow powers; it isn't a magic of any kind. It doesn't require the same sense of feel as magic, and I can do it endlessly. But I can now conceal my presence without anything to hide behind.
Such power, and potential. Alas, I dare not try to reattempt that ritual. My body was thinned from it, and so too was my soul. Shadows are powerful, but power is meaningless if I dilute myself in them until I do not remain. I'm glad the illumians didn't think to try this ritual on me. I'd never have survived to write this. And I wouldn't necessarily wish this on anyone else, either. Not unless they were equally familiar with the true essence of a shadow.