"Ah. Well. I suppose I will have to try that route, past the... stout men?" Odd choice of words. "If nothing else maybe I can hitchhike. Well, as I said, I will help you label your fire exits. Do you have any stiff paperboard or similar paper? Sharpie or other good marker? You'll want a good professional sign for lasting use, but this will get us started."
Discuss egress, both general and specific. Label fire exits with best available materials.
[The Art of Signage: 3]
No paper, unfortunately. Or paperboard. Or markers, for that matter. Minders don't tend to keep notes, the girl explains. And when they do, they engrave them into the walls. Perhaps not the most practical way of doing things, but at least you can't lose your notes that way. And there's great incentive to make them look good as well, given that you'll look at them whether you want to or not.
Granted, maybe it's a little too dark in here for a written sign to be of much use, she says. Though if you want you could probably grab some drapes, maybe mix some ash with water or something to make ink. Or use some of the pesticide in the well - that makes for a sticky black solution, she thinks she recalls.
Or maybe, she realizes after a moment, there's also a simpler solution. She points at a nearby corner, and you hear a voice remarkably similar to your own say "fire exit" from it exactly once. Trouble is, she doesn't know how to make it permanent. Would probably take some doing. Hang on a moment, she says as her eyes glaze over for about half a minute. You look around awkwardly at the other children in the meantime, who seem to have huddled up into one of the corners. The bloody-nosed child you spoke to before seems to be talking to them in a vaguely soothing manner, but you can't quite make out what he's saying. He's... also not moving his lips, you notice, and yet you do think he's forming perfectly coherent words despite being unable to say what specific ones those would be.
Right, the girl interrupts your examination. The problem is being addressed, she says with quite a bit of confidence. You want to go back to the well? That hole in the ground in the middle of the courtyard? There's likely to be some useful stuff down there if she can't figure out anything better after all. You are about to reply, but are interrupted again when Ms. Minett bumps into you quite rudely and emits a strange and largely inexplicable noise in response. You wonder if she's all right - she's looking a bit on the burnt side. Maybe she needs medical assistance like Mr. Codeburn did.
"Ah, good, you're not dead. Do you know what happened here? Why the sun's out and all that?"
[Ad Hoc Mysticism: 1]
Bugger if he knows
really, but he assumes because it's nighttime. You look up at the sky. There's no stars, you point out. And the moon's gone too. And everything's pitch black, basically. The blackmith pauses a second. That's not normal? You don't think it is, no.
He doesn't really
get out much lately, he points out after a few seconds of awkward silence. He's got more import- ah! There! He's got it! Got what? Nothing that concerns you, it seems. To tell you now would ruin it, he says. Now off with you! Get him his things! He feels an idea brewing!
She even ignores my magic. It's like she's completely cut off from me. I'll have to get someone else to do this.
I hiss at the guard, then leave the room to look for anyone who seems out of place. Maybe because they are a tubful of rats animated with the soul of a person from another world. Yes, perhaps someone like that.
Your doomwraith impression is capped off as you are warded off by the stalwart righteousness of the guard, retreating along the hallway in search of weak minds who may be pushed to do your evil bidding in your stead.
[Fortuitous Meetings: 1]
You almost immediately hear one Mr. Minstep, who seems to be in the middle of discussing signage with the minder girl just on the other wing of the upper floor. You wander into the complete darkness in search of the man, figuring him to be at the very least hypothetically able to communicate with the queen, and find him rather easily by bumping into him. You emit a low hiss again before your urge to method act is overwhelmed by good sense. You're not sure if he noticed, since the darkness makes it hard to gauge his reaction.
"Right... that was nice. let's see if I can get my buddy back."
Yo Moonstone, where you at, bro?
Who knows where a black stone may lurk in the dark of the night? You have a very good lead, however.
MOON
[Word: 6]
Your voice becomes an infrasonic clarion call, fading from the threshold of audibility as it shakes the ground and the forest, spreading outward like thunder. You carry the tone to its conclusion, moon dust and ash falling from the burnt and shaking trees as you briefly pass a resonant frequency or three. The woods reverberate as if in an earthquake as you stand there, falling into deep silence as you wait for a reply. It takes half a minute, you think - the stone must have ranged far indeed as it untethered itself from you. But it reaches nevertheless.
You know it first by the response - an imitated call, instinctual. It sends shivers through your bones as it rises in tone, inverted from your own call, emerging from the silence at the very end as the howl of some nameless nocturnal beast.
[Orbital Capture: 1]
It returns without error, your call an ideal guide to your location, your resonance a way to pinpoint your movements. It comes for you head-on, and slams into you as only a 3-ton boulder going at incredible speed can. You don't quite catch the moment that it hits you. It happens in the blink of an eye. You're standing there. Then you are laid out on the ground, feeling a lot like your skeleton has just been fully and evenly half-broken. What happened between those two moments you try not to question. The speed at which it was going, you think you got off easy.
[Stone's Path: 1]
You suspect, however, that this will be far from the only destruction it causes if it keeps its course true.
Sulk right off into my booze dimension. INEVITABLY work it more like Valhalla's proper summer resort. Except with a lot more of booze. And vodkafruit ocean.
I will NOT comfort myself with vodka yet.
Your booze dimension, unfortunately, does not quite seem to exist anymore. Not that you cannot reconstruct it. With enough time and effort, all things are possible within your own mind. Freed of the constraints of time, space and the laws of physics more than you normally are, there is only so much that can stand in the way of the triumph of your will over the inabilities of your mind.
INEVITABLE
[Word: 2]
What is a Word here, though? Every word of yours bends reality in your mind's little playground. One word is like any other here. That is the appeal, no?
[Worlds Within Worlds: 3]
From SEA, LAND. The SEA, formed of FRUIT. The FRUIT, filled with VODKA.
Perhaps too many words. You are sluggish in forming this reality. It does not come easily. The shapes, the tastes, the feelings - all of these do not form fully, and are lacking in focus. If the minder girl had cooperated, you suspect this would have been much easier. Not that it does not seem easier than before, of course.
Eric Codeburn, COMPUTISTICS SPECIALIST
- Wounds: 3
- Body Count: 62
- Floral Nightgown (worn, burnt, wet)
- A Word: SUN
- A Word: MOON
- Anglefork Castle: Minister of Moronic Affairs
- Sweet Escape: the Correct Side At Last
- 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
- Army of the New State: 455 Stoatmen
- Army of the New State: To Shoot The Sun
- The Good Doctor: the Solitary Candidate
- The Birds: Feeding the Crows
Leif Erikson, Miner
- A Word: INEVITABLE
- Wounds: 1
- Reappropriated, Clean Skirt
- 1 gp
- Anglefork Castle: A Free Man
- The Box: ?
- Tower of the Mind: a Lack of Patience
- Induced Lucidity: a Picture Forms
- The Prison Stone
- Elongated Affairs: A Noble Task
- Elongated Affairs: The Numbers of the Stoat
- Compatibility: Minding
- Tricks of the Mind: Cormick's Condescending Riddle
- Tricks of the Mind: Perceptual Rebuke
- The Voracious Dark: Two Deals Made
- The Voracious Dark: The Promised Sixth
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- Wounds: 1
- A Word: HUNGER
- A Word: CHAOS
- A Weapon: Explosive Cysts
- Rat Pantheon: Disliked
- Traces of Mischief: Mouthful of Blackness
- Origins: Witness to Dissolution
- Tower of the Mind: There's Something To Remember
- The New Queen: And Something To Forget
- The Queen's Guard: Bringer of Doom
- Gross Incandescence: Crumbling Shell
- Touch of Flame: the Secrets of Flammability
- Inscribed Brick ('Water')
- The Voracious Dark: Two Connections Given
- Body Count: 1
- Never In: the Obvious Candidates
- The Impromptu Prophecy: the Sensible Solution
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Wounds: 1
- Voluntarily Naked
- Uncoupled: Strength
- Wooden Door (held)
- Flawless Direction: the Superior Sense
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: the Sword of Destiny
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Something Priceless?
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Something Purple?
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: A Profane Megalith
- Tower of the Mind: Endless Well of Mystery
- Induced Lucidity: A Garden Well-Tended
- Doomstones: ?
- A Place In History: Emergent Abomination
- Anglefork Castle: the Great Serpent
- 2 rats, crushed
- 1 rat, strangled
- 1 rat, live
- Touch of Flame: the Second Degree
- Gross Incandescence: Unilluminated
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- The Impromptu Prophecy: ?
- The Voracious Dark: Two Connections Given
- Body Count: 2
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- Anglefork Castle: From Another Time, Another Land
- 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: Happy to Help
- The Queen's Guard: Okayed by the Queen
- The New Queen: Spearheading the Inquiry
- Tower of the Mind: the Quest for Signage
- Body Count: 1