Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 262457 times)

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #960 on:** April 15, 2016, 08:40:26 am »

"No proper loot? Damn."

Take a bite of the cheese, surely that's better than the shitty wine. Use the warm chest as a drum and play song of my people. If nothing happens and the chests is made of wood ...well, all wood rots INEVITABLY, right?

Xantalos · « **Reply #961 on:** April 15, 2016, 12:41:39 pm »

"What's the One? Is it your god or something? As for your requests ... I'll have to think about it. To be frank I don't particularly care about the new state having to cement itself or whatever, I just want to have the option to leave here if I want. And the blacksmith really did me a favour."

Jack absentmindedly twiddles the fingers of his right hand.

"Hmm. Well, I'm fairly sure I can go get her but I just wanna make as sure as I can that I won't be punished for helping you, ya know? You're the highest ranking guy there?"

Prepare myself mentally for potential murder. No actual murder yet.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #962 on:** April 15, 2016, 02:38:20 pm »

"Okay, I'm tired of this place." I drop the blade and make my way to the rat shit tunnel.

TopHat · « **Reply #963 on:** April 15, 2016, 03:06:33 pm »

"Okay, okay, I'll be going. Just one thing, though - you say I'm neither a stranger nor your elder. Why, and what am I, then?"
Just one more question.

Toaster · « **Reply #964 on:** April 15, 2016, 07:32:28 pm »

"Uhhh.... yes, since you're having so much fun, I'll go ahead and leave."

Sneak out. Maybe the queen is ready?

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #965 on:** April 16, 2016, 06:02:05 am »

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on April 15, 2016, 08:40:26 am

"No proper loot? Damn."

Take a bite of the cheese, surely that's better than the shitty wine. Use the warm chest as a drum and play song of my people. If nothing happens and the chests is made of wood ...well, all wood rots INEVITABLY, right?

[Culinary Delights: 3]

It's some sort of gourmet cheese, you decide as you take a bite out of its crust, in that it's kind of bitter, rather well-aged and incredibly hard and crumbly. Slightly aromatic, too! Helps get rid of the taste of shitty wine quite adequately, you find. Cheered by this shift in flavor, you walk on back to the chest and begin a charming communique through the medium of percussion.

[The Universal Language: 2]

Your rhythm leaves much to be desired, probably owing to your drunkenness more than anything. You drum away for some time as you try to remember any particular drum solos you've ever heard or improvise one as it comes to you - naturally, both attempts fail miserably. So in the absence of creativity you let entropy take the wheel.

INEVITABLE

[Word: 3]

Wood may rot inevitably, this is true. There is, however, a distinct, much less remote possibility in the near future, and that is the opening of the chest on its own. Feeling warm and curious from your food and drink, you guide yourself into this event. The bolt is undone, and suddenly the chest flies open. Out of the chest, in turn, flies a small young woman in gray-brown garb, a dagger flashing in her hand. You are about to say something, but at this point the two of you rather unfortunately collide.

[Moth's Wrath: 2 vs. 5]

She isn't quite adapted to the light, you think, or even with being upright. Must have spent a considerable amount of time in the chest, you think as you intercept her dagger-hand and wrench the blade from it, then toss her into the conveniently nearby stack of cheese, which seems to confuse her even further as she scrambles along piles of loot. You're a little more intrigued by the dagger, you think. Bronze, you think? Might be a throwing dagger, judging by the shape and balance of it.

You look back at the woman. Panic appears to have given way to confusion as she's had a chance to look you over. She tilts her head a little, eyes wide, breathing heavily. Unexpected, she mouths cryptically, standing up while eying you cautiously. She's wearing an odd dress, you notice - a banded, flowing thing of many gray and brown layers, richly patterned to the point where it bears an uncanny resemblance to a Persian rug, if a bit less floral in design.

You'd say she's currently looking quite tense. Maybe she'd like a grapefruit.

Quote from: Xantalos on April 15, 2016, 12:41:39 pm

"What's the One? Is it your god or something? As for your requests ... I'll have to think about it. To be frank I don't particularly care about the new state having to cement itself or whatever, I just want to have the option to leave here if I want. And the blacksmith really did me a favour."

Jack absentmindedly twiddles the fingers of his right hand.

"Hmm. Well, I'm fairly sure I can go get her but I just wanna make as sure as I can that I won't be punished for helping you, ya know? You're the highest ranking guy there?"

Prepare myself mentally for potential murder. No actual murder yet.

It is not for you to speak of the One, and not for him to explain. If the castle is theirs by the day's end and all of its residents brought to justice, you will not see it. If it is not, your meeting is inevitable. Conduct yourself in accordance with the law of the new state and all things shall be well and all manner of things shall be well, yes.

As for murder, you feel you ought to be careful with that. The essence of killing orbits your person. It merely awaits license.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on April 15, 2016, 02:38:20 pm

"Okay, I'm tired of this place." I drop the blade and make my way to the rat shit tunnel.

The rat shit probably isn't good for your robe, you figure as you get back to the crossroads, casting off the trap component you spent the better part of the last couple of hours trying to scavenge. You suspect there's easier ways to obtain weapons.

The tunnel goes on for some time, growing smaller, tighter and richer in guano as you go on. However, you do not give in, and proceed until you see a bit of light at the end of it - just a smidgen, of course. You pursue it relentlessly, until finally you squeeze through a small hole into a larger room, free of the awful confines of this place, finding yourself in...

... huh, it's the well again, a small circle bathed in the light of midday sun at the bottom of the shaft. You look back at the spot you came from. That's... huh. You wouldn't have thought you could squeeze through such a grate, honestly, if you hadn't clearly just done it. You shrug and look forward again.

Two figures stand against the far wall, mostly wreathed in dark. The creature from the well, visible for the first time, more an assemblage of fruiting bodies than anything even vaguely humanlike, ancient metal artifacts shattered, then glued together by mycelia. Its hand is raised in silent, motionless greeting. Next your eye is drawn to the priestess from the shrine, veins of black mold running through her aged and haggard body, a joyous smile plastered all over her face. Fuzzy dark streams flow down from the corners of her closed, drooping eyes, her entire face sunken and lifeless. Her head is nodded.

Looking back at the corpse, you notice that it has moved - dropping to one knee, it offers in its palms a tall white mushroom, standing slightly crooked as it shies away from the light. A consolation prize?

Quote from: TopHat on April 15, 2016, 03:06:33 pm

"Okay, okay, I'll be going. Just one thing, though - you say I'm neither a stranger nor your elder. Why, and what am I, then?"
Just one more question.

The question gladdens her visibly. The urge to explain and demonstrate is a powerful one. You - or at least the general type of creature you represent - were created two days ago by her predecessors. Three faces of unfamiliar robed men flash before your eyes, followed by a scene of destruction as what you are informed are their corpses lie in the middle of a familiar dungeon within sight of a black door inscribed with strange runes.

As for what you are, there are insights she has gleaned. You see a man with a great gaping hole in his face tear himself apart at the seams, dissolving into a scurrying swarm of rats. Mr. Daniels' abdomen opening up into a mouth of grisly teeth as he devours a deformed, mutilated captive. The same Mr. Daniels surrounded by a group of misshapen acolytes blending into one another as they bear down on the observer. A vast and hungry horror with the face of Mr. Minstep in the middle of a ravenous pounce upon an unprotected mind. A certain Mr. Erikson, joyfully plucking insights from her mind with effortless ease. All of these things, she would wager, you are or at least can be - scratching at the seemingly mundane surface of your mind, byzantine inhumanity seeps out from every corner.

She believes her point to be sufficiently demonstrated, yes? Will you be going now?

Quote from: Toaster on April 15, 2016, 07:32:28 pm

"Uhhh.... yes, since you're having so much fun, I'll go ahead and leave."

Sneak out. Maybe the queen is ready?

The queen appears to have concluded her routine, fresh from a morning bath and having put on a slightly more formal gown for today as she sits by her desk with her legs crossed, sipping tea gingerly, the thoroughly gnawed bones of a roast rat resting on her plate. This day seems to have started well for her, at least.

She's heard about the minders already, you immediately discover. The red-haired guard has delivered a full report on the matter. Nicely done, Mr. Minstep - perhaps now she too can finally be privy to whatever is going on in this castle.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #966 on:** April 16, 2016, 06:19:46 am »

"Oh, you guys escaped too. Good job, I guess." I look at this mushroom more closely, then I pluck it if it seems that's what the zombie wants me to do.

((Also... should I still have the inscribed brick in my inventory? I thought I left it on top of the church.))

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #967 on:** April 16, 2016, 09:07:48 am »

"Life is full of unexpected things, mostly because everybody sees fit act on their own plan instead of yours. You should expect the unexerp... unexpected. If it is stoutmen you were expecting, then you are happy to know they are right outside. Bastards left me alone here... Say, this mighty fine dagger, may I have it? This nicely warm and confusingly locked box, why you were in it? Pretty clothes, much better than mine. Do you want some nice fruits? They warm you up nicely."

Offer drunken life wisdom, requests, questions, grapefruits with reduced ethanol content. Shouldn't make younsters too drunk too soon.

Toaster · « **Reply #968 on:** April 16, 2016, 10:06:35 am »

"The... I suppose she is the leader now, the young lady- she seems to have rather suddenly decided she doesn't want me present. It's rather odd. In any case, I really, really, quite really need to get back to Albany before I am fired. Mr. Munderly does not take kindly to extended absence, even with a good reason. I've enjoyed your show, really, but I must insist that I get going now."

One word in his speech almost- but not quite- had a strange echo to it. Hmmm.

Continue to not understand situation.

Xantalos · « **Reply #969 on:** April 16, 2016, 11:28:47 am »

"Hmm. Seems to be a very orderly being, then. I can appreciate that, everything to its own place and all. If only it were that life worked that way - for me it's been a rather confused jumble of things that just seem to sort of happen with no rhyme or reason that's immediately evident. Like for instance how I got here - I woke up in a backyard. I don't know how I got there, or where the clothes I was wearing before that went, or anything of the sort. I just ... was there. And things have only gotten more bizzare from there. However, you stoatmen have never really negatively impacted me, and I'm grateful for that. There've been a quite a few things that have tried to kill me and/or manipulate me for their own ends since I got here, but you don't seem to have any sort of beef with me. Heck, you're even willing to grant me considerations I'd find myself having a hard time granting to me were I in your situation. You really are a class act, Mr. Speaker. I'm glad to have had this conversation with you. I think it's been worth my time, almost as much as losing the former function of my left hand. That's the best thing that's happened to me so far - it's not like I used it much beforehand, and blessings seem to come thinly veiled here in Anglefork."

Somewhere in the midst of this rambling, begin murdering him and everyone around/nearby him with the murder-thought. Hit every stoatman in sight if I'm capable of it. Keep talking as I murder.

TopHat · « **Reply #970 on:** April 16, 2016, 01:36:54 pm »

"Yes, though I'm not quite sure I understand. If I was 'created', as you say, that recently, why do I have memories spanning much further than that? Especially since these memories are of a world I severely doubt your predecessors would have had any knowledge of.
Express doubts. Bring a selection of memories to mind if it seems it'll help make the point.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #971 on:** April 16, 2016, 04:16:03 pm »

Quote from: penguinofhonor on April 16, 2016, 06:19:46 am

"Oh, you guys escaped too. Good job, I guess." I look at this mushroom more closely, then I pluck it if it seems that's what the zombie wants me to do.

You're hardly a mycologist, so the most you can really say is that it is definitely a mushroom of some kind. Much larger than the ones you've seen, though, almost the length of your forearm. Could probably make a whole pot of soup out of it if you had a mind to.

[Fungal Insights: 4]

It does, however, seem sensible that it is being shown to you with a purpose, as an offering of sorts. It comes easily off the zombie's hands, further implying this intent. What's more, it smells quite delicious. A sweet, slightly earthy smell. Unusually aromatic for a mushroom, certainly. It appears to shrivel a little as you near it to sunlight, so you tuck it into your robe for now.

Once you look up from your examination, neither the zombie nor the priestess are still there, or anywhere else in the dungeon for that matter as far as you can see. You suppose that concludes your business.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on April 16, 2016, 09:07:48 am

"Life is full of unexpected things, mostly because everybody sees fit act on their own plan instead of yours. You should expect the unexerp... unexpected. If it is stoutmen you were expecting, then you are happy to know they are right outside. Bastards left me alone here... Say, this mighty fine dagger, may I have it? This nicely warm and confusingly locked box, why you were in it? Pretty clothes, much better than mine. Do you want some nice fruits? They warm you up nicely."

Offer drunken life wisdom, requests, questions, grapefruits with reduced ethanol content. Shouldn't make younsters too drunk too soon.

[Second Impressions: 2]

She listens and her face tightens a little as you mention the presence of the stoats. Your line of questioning similarly provokes some distaste. You don't think she much appreciates your attempts at genial conversation. So you suppose you'll give her the other thing you can offer.

[Induced Inebriation: 4]

She is in the right state of mind, you notice. Hungry enough for curiosity to arise before naked suspicion. This proves enough for the effect to work, and the information to unfold. She steps back noticeably, the sudden buzz taking her aback. Grapefruit, she says. Strange.

She looks over at you as her mind flares with suspicion again. Who are you?

Quote from: Toaster on April 16, 2016, 10:06:35 am

"The... I suppose she is the leader now, the young lady- she seems to have rather suddenly decided she doesn't want me present. It's rather odd. In any case, I really, really, quite really need to get back to Albany before I am fired. Mr. Munderly does not take kindly to extended absence, even with a good reason. I've enjoyed your show, really, but I must insist that I get going now."

One word in his speech almost- but not quite- had a strange echo to it. Hmmm.

Continue to not understand situation.

The word. 'Absence'. A sensation much like a held back full-body sneeze runs through you, provoking a shiver.

The queen does not seem to notice. A return to normalcy is what everyone here would like, she offers diplomatically with a mildly uncomfortable look, having apparently given up on getting you involved in the production. It is the eternal work of minders to facilitate such a return.

In any case, best get their leader in here, then. No sense in dithering. She calls a guard and tells them to get the head minder. The guard enthusiastically complies.

Quote from: Xantalos on April 16, 2016, 11:28:47 am

"Hmm. Seems to be a very orderly being, then. I can appreciate that, everything to its own place and all. If only it were that life worked that way - for me it's been a rather confused jumble of things that just seem to sort of happen with no rhyme or reason that's immediately evident. Like for instance how I got here - I woke up in a backyard. I don't know how I got there, or where the clothes I was wearing before that went, or anything of the sort. I just ... was there. And things have only gotten more bizzare from there. However, you stoatmen have never really negatively impacted me, and I'm grateful for that. There've been a quite a few things that have tried to kill me and/or manipulate me for their own ends since I got here, but you don't seem to have any sort of beef with me. Heck, you're even willing to grant me considerations I'd find myself having a hard time granting to me were I in your situation. You really are a class act, Mr. Speaker. I'm glad to have had this conversation with you. I think it's been worth my time, almost as much as losing the former function of my left hand. That's the best thing that's happened to me so far - it's not like I used it much beforehand, and blessings seem to come thinly veiled here in Anglefork."

Somewhere in the midst of this rambling, begin murdering him and everyone around/nearby him with the murder-thought. Hit every stoatman in sight if I'm capable of it. Keep talking as I murder.

[The Right of Parley: 2]

The wind starts to feel supernatural, your voice taking on the aspect of death involuntarily. The knight tenses up. The perfect moment slips you by. So you go for the next best thing.

[Death By Monologue: 2 vs. 5]

Your sharpened thought screams through the air, arcing like thought-lightning. One of the crossbowstoats, his crossbow currently raised as he evaluates the situation, proves the closest conduit, a unique mixture of threat and receptiveness. The thought enters as you meet his gaze for a second, shredding arteries and cleaving organs as your words instruct your blade's progress. Blood starts to pour from his every orifice. He is dead before he hits the ground, the impact setting loose the seed of death planted within him and permitting its return to you.

The stoatmen begin to form up. They appear to have a strategy they believe worthwhile. It is, of course, the crossbow volley. Fairly easy to dodge if you stand behind a parapet, which you, not being a bloody idiot, immediately do.

[Speaker's Dilemma: 3]

The speaker, you notice, seems momentarily indecisive. On the fence, perhaps, about whether this would be the correct moment. He begins to half-heartedly retreat, though he seems to be looking at the results of your murderous display with some interest.

Quote from: TopHat on April 16, 2016, 01:36:54 pm

"Yes, though I'm not quite sure I understand. If I was 'created', as you say, that recently, why do I have memories spanning much further than that? Especially since these memories are of a world I severely doubt your predecessors would have had any knowledge of.
Express doubts. Bring a selection of memories to mind if it seems it'll help make the point.

[The Likely Answer: 3]

They had a little knowledge. Dangerously little, you could say, considering their fate. And they do appear to have used the services of a particular thing in your creation - the particulars escape her, as the thing in question is unwilling to-

A call comes from the door. You turn to look, as does the head girl and the servant. An officious guard stands where Mr. Minstep was a minute ago. He clears his throat and tells nobody in particular that the queen requests the presence of the head representative of the minders in her quarters. There are apparently matters that need discussing. The head girl gives him a glance. The guard nods back after a moment and leaves contently.

There are matters to attend to. She hopes you will have no further cause to bother her or her students as she looks at the room's exit, clearly expecting you to head out first.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

Xantalos · « **Reply #972 on:** April 16, 2016, 04:20:31 pm »

"Sorry! Sorry about that, it slipped. I've got it under control now, I think. It's a unique power I've acquired in my time here, and it's a bit eager at times. It's all good now though. Did you want me to deliver the queen alive? Dead? Multiple pieces?"

Deliver the above fake-out and then murderize them again when/if they fall for it. Target the speaker primarily.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #973 on:** April 16, 2016, 05:36:24 pm »

I step into the well's door. "I would like to make a deal, and I will offer a connection. My question: what is the nature of the sea of light beneath the tombs?"

Toaster · « **Reply #974 on:** April 16, 2016, 09:52:59 pm »

Ugh. Must be what I ate coming back to haunt me.

"I will remain, if you don't mind. She seems quite the knowledgeable person."

Wait inside if allowed. Wait outside if not.

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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 262457 times)

AoshimaMichio

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Xantalos

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

TopHat

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Toaster

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

AoshimaMichio

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Toaster

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Xantalos

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

TopHat

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Xantalos

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light

Toaster

Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light