"Sounds like it fits. Prophecy's pretty nice that way in how it can be moulded. And it even works as well, in that I need to get some things to get that blacksmith kid to make me a kickass sword. Do you have anything purple on you? Also do you mind following me to that there sacrificial stone there since you've fulfilled your part of fate and all?"
Purple? That's rather specific, isn't it? The priest can't really help you on that front, unfortunately, as he is not exactly known for his wealth of colorful objects. He's more into the golds and the oranges, as you could presumably see if his robe wasn't absolutely ruined with copious amounts of Mr. Codeburn's blood.
MOON
And yes, he would very much mind following you to the blasphemous circle of stones where all the bloody heretics congregate to perform ritual sacrifice to their dark gods. And the way you're not even bothering to pretend you don't intend to end his life on a sacrificial slab makes him wonder if the kind and generous offer of getting in on this sweet prophetic action was a bit too easily given.
Inhaling is not the proper way, you know? Drink it. Or eat it.
Utmost enjoyment as it provides, it is not perfect yet. It needs an island. And on the island should be a church. Burning one. My little bonfire. Burning stone church! You know, we used to have our fun with those. Gotta remember our history. And respect it. Maybe repeat it, too?
And I need to be dressed properly for Valhalla's drinking party. An armor, like this one. The helmet, the cape, pants and the works. Hammer is not necessary, but would be a nice touch.
"What was it you shaid, a place of its own for my mind to reside in? My happy place. I think I found it... By Freyja's big tits, I didn't know hallucinations could be so effective. Free booze for everybody! I love you, shister! Where do I find those mints? Minders, I mean. I shaid minders, right?"
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there! An... uh, island. Made of something, yeah. With a church. On fire. And it's... like, built on something. What was that first thing again? Armor? You guess you could have armor. It feels heavy. Man, these grapefruits go right to your head, don't they?
Wait! Minders! Those are... in the tower? Wait, you don't see any tower in here. Is she sure? She sounds like she's quite sure. The real tower, she adds.
"Ah, so more, 'Spirit bomb' than 'Great turtle wave'. Gotcha. Hm... Oh, hey guy. What's your name again?"
Focus intently on my own Defence. Moon.
MOON
Once more the dust rises and flies to you, growing sharp and formidable, covering you from head to toe in an ostensibly protective shell, covering you fully, even the inside of your ears and the corners of your eyes and in every other crevice you'd care to- okay, that's far enough! You bid it to stop!
It doesn't stop. It gets
everywhere. And only then does it stop. You try to shake the dust off, but you're not sure it's working.
With how abrasive this stuff is, you're not sure you want to open your eyes.
Elbow I must, most gently. They do not understand how important this meeting is! Was! Whatever!
"Excuse me! I must find the majordomo!
You elbow a nearby servant in the kidney, and as he doubles over you use his back as a springboard to execute a very handsome frog splash, stating your urgent need mid-air. No time to waste, after all. This proves very expedient, as you manage to land on a particularly soft group of different servants, having made very good headway through the foyer at this point.
A kitchen girl stares up at you, looking very much surprised and also favorably oriented for a conversation, markedly unlike the several people under her. You ask her if she's seen the majordomo anywhere. She looks up. You look up also. There appears to be a terrified, silvery-haired man wearing an unfavorable combination of green and purple finery standing nearby. Would he be the majordomo, you ask. He thinks about it a moment, backing away slightly. A shaggy chambermaid elbows him back forward.
Yes, he gulps. Yes, he is the majordomo. You're not going to hurt him, are you? He is old and fragile. Please don't hurt him.
Woah. I step inside.
"My desire: knowledge of magic. My question: how do we leave this place?"
The door fuses shut behind you, leaving you in complete darkness and silence. You cannot hear yourself as you speak in here, your words falling into the nucleus of the dark well before they even issue from your throat. You feel it snake about, coming alive at your presence, at your engagement.
It has been some time. Welcome.
Your fulfillment: high compatibility with the well simplifies acquisition of abilities designated 'magical' (see magic, minding, universality of language). Abilities will be phrased as words (see words, phrasing, ambiguity): HUNGER, DEEP, SEEK. One may be chosen. Alternative: desire can be interpreted as additional question, no words.
Your answer: through disruption your mind can be returned to the well (see disruption, vessels, the well). Methods of leaving area designated as Anglefork Castle include, but are not limited to destruction of besieging forces (see magic, improvised technology, brute force), cooperation with besieging forces (see betrayal, stoatman codes, universality of language), avoidance of besieging forces (see flight, invisibility, skulduggery). Methods of reaching a different world can be found in regions of extreme conditions (see corner of the world, halfway temple, time-enders).
Your price: a connection now belongs to the well.
No Word use roll thus far has exceeded 3.
Eric Codeburn, COMPUTISTICS SPECIALIST
- Wounds: 2
- A Word: SUN
- A Word: MOON
- Traces of Mischief: Moon Dust Everywhere
- Perforated Burlap Sack
- Inscribed Brick ('Water')
- Anglefork Castle: Minister of Moronic Affairs
- The Impromptu Prophecy: Child of the Sun and Moon
- Robe of Mirrors (extremely dusty)
- Adherents of the Great House: Enemy of Memory
- Well and Truly Narked Upon: 1
- Friends in Low Places: a Successful Transaction
- Subordinate Moonstone (in orbit)
- Army of the New State: 600 Stoatmen
Leif Erikson, Miner
- Reappropriated, Clean Skirt
- 1 gp
- Anglefork Castle: A Different Sort of Confinement
- The Box: Teachings of the Minders
- Phantom Inebriation: Overpowering
- Induced Lucidity: Adrift in a Sea of Booze
- The Prison Stone
- Elongated Affairs: Beneath Contempt
- Elongated Affairs: A Noble Task
- Elongated Affairs: The Numbers of the Stoat
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- 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 Well Speaks
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- 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
- The Man With No Clothes: an Asset
- 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: Very Good Resume, Not Quite What We're Looking For
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- Anglefork Castle: Dude, Where's My Car?
- Traces of Mischief: Sandy Groin
- Gross Incandescence: Partly Illuminated
- Tight Leather Pants
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- Commotion in the Castle: Murder in Progress?
- The Majordomo: a Big Splash