What have I gotten myself into? Thinking more, I focus on the ground beneath the naked man's feet and imagine it swallowing him up. "Earth," I say, "you HUNGER."
HUNGER
[Word: 5]
The earth shifts soundlessly, taking on the aspect of a silent predator. The naked man smiles as he hears you speak. And next thing you know, he is gone. He falls, but does not hit anything. And moments later, the ground is whole once again.
You see no more of him. And you hear even less. You look at the earth. It looks harmless once again. Innocuous, for now.
I think. It's time. We go see a healer. For a while.
"Haaaaaaa."
[Heroic Determination: 6]
You crunch all over as you get up and shamble off in search of a healer, extraneous charred bits of you falling off as you walk along the courtyard. Healer. You need a healer.
... where is the healer, come to think of it? Is there one? The shrouded man never mentioned anything of the sort. The keep, you guess? You wander in past some guys dragging a stoatman out by its feet, tracking ash on the nice, lightly bloodstained floor. You have no idea where to go after this point. There's a bunch of people you could ask, you guess. Mr. Minstep, perhaps. You go and ask him if he's seen a healer anywhere around here. You kind of need one a little urgently, you mention.
Thomas sighed. Nope, this gentleman was no help whatsoever. But what was with that poor fellow? It'd probably be rude to ask.
"I see, Mister Majordomo. Thank you for your time."
Withdraw from the conversation. Observe this new happening; look for someone who may know something useful.
You approach the strange people dragging the even stranger person, leaning inconspicuously toward a skinny servant who's stuck around this long. You ask her what this might be about, and she says that's the stoat they had captured in the dungeon. That looks to be a man, actually, you take care to correct, but she insists it's actually a stoat. Seems like it escaped. Probably made a beeline for the queen. Wanted to lay eggs in her skull, no doubt. Stoats do that, don't you know.
You nod politely as the two men drag the so-called stoat out the main keep door, leaving a small trail of blood on the floor as they go. They pay you no mind as they proceed into the courtyard, the girl coming downstairs after them sedately before a few other guards run in and accost her with questions about her security, comfort and general condition, subjects on which the girl appears to be a little tongue-tied.
Meanwhile, Mr. Codeburn comes into the foyer looking a lot like a humanoid fourth-degree burn and followed by a menacingly glowing two-ton boulder. He walks up to you and asks if you've seen any healers around here, sounding a lot like crumpling charred paper.
Hmm. Spasm, writhe and foam, I guess. Or something. I would like to not die from imaginary alcohol poisoning. Reboot mind?
Whaaa? Rebootcher mind? Thass ridiculous. 'S not like there's a goddamn button on the side of yer head y'can just push to-
[Mental Reboot: 5]
You find yourself in darkness, unable to see much of anything. This is disquieting for a moment, but then your cellmate breaks the silence by asking if you enjoyed your foray into the wildly imaginary. It certainly sounded fun from where she was sitting, she says.
Jack lies on the ground unmoving for a second, letting his mind catch up.
"...huh. That hurt.
...maybe should go see if that priest is still alive. That was some fine wheedling I did on him, after all."
He stands up and brushes himself off.
"Hey priest! Sun moon what the fuck ever. You alive or did you get burnt to ash?
Oh hey other guy, Codeburn, is that rock disarmed? 'Cause I could come up there and help you, but I don't fancy being incinerated."
That said, Jack crosses his arms and huffs out a sigh. Who knew convincing people to let you rip their guts out could be so fraught with complications? Speaking of which, how was that other guy getting along? Hopefully he hadn't gotten into any shenanigans. Though most likely he had.
How's that bone carver dude? Still looking in a sacrificeable state?
Mr. Codeburn looks all right, you suppose, and fucks off in short order. Good enough, one supposes.
Sun-Mouth Prudence, meanwhile, doesn't respond. You guess he's dead, then. Such good effort, all of it wasted.
Speaking of, you wander back to the courtyard, only to find no sign of the naked bone carver. Must have gone off to do something at the last minute, you guess. You look around carefully to find any sign of him, and your gaze is most prominently drawn to that old guard and guy with an eye on his forehead, both of whom appear to have attended to whatever business kept them away from the ritual. They seem to be dragging one of those marmot people with them. Okay, maybe not quite done.
Or maybe they are done, because both of them just drag the marmot person over to the circle, then proceed to stand about, the elderly guard casting a quizzical look around. The man with the scarified eye does a full revolution as well, scanning the area for any sign of who he's looking for, but seemingly finding none.
Eric Codeburn, COMPUTISTICS SPECIALIST
- Wounds: 4
- A Word: SUN
- A Word: MOON
- Anglefork Castle: Minister of Moronic Affairs
- The Impromptu Prophecy: Child of the Sun and Moon
- Adherents of the Great House: Enemy of Memory
- Well and Truly Narked Upon: 1
- Friends in Low Places: a Successful Transaction
- Subordinate Shining Stone (in orbit, 2 tons)
- Army of the New State: 600 Stoatmen
- Army of the New State: !!!
- Gross Incandescence: Extra Crispy
Leif Erikson, Miner
- Reappropriated, Clean Skirt
- 1 gp
- Anglefork Castle: A Different Sort of Confinement
- The Box: Teachings of the Minders
- Induced Lucidity: A Skerry In The Alcoholic Ocean
- The Prison Stone
- Elongated Affairs: Beneath Contempt
- Elongated Affairs: A Noble Task
- Elongated Affairs: The Numbers of the Stoat
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- A Word: HUNGER
- Queenly Garments: the Humble Dress
- Sticks: 0.95 (total)
- Rat Pantheon: Disliked
- Traces of Mischief: Mouthful of Blackness
- The New Queen: ?
- Doomstones: A Disinterest
- Origins: Witness to Dissolution
- Tower of the Mind: Confusion
- Gross Incandescence: Highly Illuminated
- Inscribed Brick ('Water')
- The Voracious Dark: the First Deal Made
- Body Count: 1
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Wounds: 1
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: the Sword of Destiny
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Something Profane?
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Something Priceless?
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Something Purple?
- The Apron of Mediocrity
- Doomstones: a Delay
- The List: the Hidden and the Unnecessary
- 2 rats, crushed
- 1 rat, strangled
- 1 rat, live
- Gross Incandescence: Unilluminated
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- The Impromptu Prophecy: Everything's On Fire, Argh, Oh God, Someone Help Me
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- Anglefork Castle: Deluded Resident
- Traces of Mischief: Sandy Groin
- Gross Incandescence: Partly Illuminated
- Tight Leather Pants
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Friday, July 23rd, 409 S.D.
- The Majordomo: a Breakdown of a Breakdown