"You really want to do this? People get hurt in combat. And I'd rather not take your arm or something."
Give Wormy a chance to relent. The moment she disregards this and attacks again, break her sword and then her knees.
[Speak Truth To Impotence: 6]
The fact that you have a very good point, demonstrated through foul magic as well as by an unassailable self-confidence, injures her substantially more than your previous demonstration, you feel. She stands up straight, regaining a slight amount of her previous composure, trying her best to ignore the considerable amount of blood accumulating under her armor. Taking a step away from the doorway she nods toward it in disdain.
You may go, she says.
For now. You resist the powerful urge to roll your eyes before you become aware of a strange itch in the back of your skull. You scratch your head a little, but it only seems to make it worse.
I try to interject myself into this conversation. "Excuse me, I thought we nearly had a deal worked out. If you're busy I can take my goods elsewhere."
[Artful Interjection: 2]
The mason shoots a nasty look at you. He'll deal with you in a minute, just let him sort this out. He turns to the blacksmith and shakes him violently again. He's giving him one last chance to explain what the bloody hell he's doing talking to his brother like that, and then he'll have to get a little
firmer in his questioning, he says.
The blacksmith nods slowly, and responds with a knee to the large man's diaphragm. The mason stumbles back as he starts to choke, the blacksmith landing in the beginnings of a stride toward him. His hands close around the mason's neck, gripping it firmly and particularly, constricting nerves and blood vessels, the choking and surprise preventing the large man from effectively fighting off the young and seemingly quite murderous blacksmith. The smaller mason looks on in shock at this, while the dull-faced one looks at the floor with obvious concern, though seemingly not for his brother.
You get an itch. It feels like it's coming from the inside of your head. You feel a slight urge to go elsewhere.
Always something causing the screaming...
Watch what happens next.
The gray figure proceeds toward the beast at an unhurried pace. The beast seems only a little more enthusiastic. Do you perceive hesitation in its movements? The figure opens a mouth from which no light can escape. It raises its voice.
INVITE FLESH
[Words: 2+4]
The words carry very clearly at this distance. Within you a desire for homecoming starts to burn.
[Recognize the Invader: 1]
You gleefully throw yourself off the battlements toward the figure as a yearning overtakes you for a vulnerable moment. A burst of disgust and alienation hits you before the ground does.
[A Precipitous Drop: 2]
Not that the former helps with the latter. You start to get to your feet again, looking back on the walls. Guards, seemingly possessed of more wisdom than you, appear to be scurrying out the towers and off the battlements in force, trying to get to better cover. One jumps off the wall after you, failing to survive the fall. Another is tackled by your companion, impressively haunted by the sound. You get a very bad feeling as you look behind you.
The figure stands there, and from its chest kicks the beast, flesh being torn from its bones, blood absorbed into gray. Its howls sound increasingly desperate as it inches into the being of the gray creature.
[Assimilation: 3 vs. 6]
It fights and thrashes, not yet consumed in full. There is little it can do, you think, but delay its ultimate fate.
Engage populace. If they are stoats, as most likely is the case, they will make excellent test subject for my theory of minding. Taking it step further, supress their conscious nerve feedback and redirect it into mind. Perhaps this is the way of bringing people into my mental world? Perfect for interrogation?
Or that's I would like to do when shit inevitably goes south. For now, follow Stan Lee's instructions/example.
Lee seems to prefer that you do your own thing first, being that you appear to speak their language fluently, and follows behind as you wander into the riverside streets of Anglefork Town, looking for a likely victim for your attempts at psionic mastery.
[No Shortage of Fools: 4]
An impassive-looking stoatman looks surprised to see you as you intercept it along its late afternoon business. What ho, fine fellow, you say in a failed attempt to not seem awkward and out of place, how's the town life?
You're... not supposed to be out, the stoatman begins to say. Nonsense, you reply. You're perfectly authorized to be here. There's social experiments to conduct.
[Journey to the Center of the Mind: 1]
You're not entirely sure what you do next, feeling like some of your best work is found in improvisation. But you do find yourself standing in a place of shapeless green and gray, half-formed images of trees, doors, places, stoatmen and even a rather immaculately dressed woman forming and reforming all around you.
The stoatman you asked a question of stands before you, looking very intimidated all of sudden. Lightning flashes in the distance. The ground shakes. Darkness begins to encroach. Fear, you suspect. It is the mind-killer, after all.
"Wouldn't it be fair to let me get up first? Seems silly to hit a man while he is down."
Miss the point. Maybe get up and have another go?
It would be fair, she says. But this is fighting, not dueling. If you can bring someone down, you do your best to finish them.
[Unclean Fighting: 2 vs. 1+1]
You scurry away from her continued strikes, utilizing all four of your limbs and putting your back into a very improvised roll that somehow manages to take you back to your feet. The guard looks on in what you think is amusement, your interesting maneuvers letting curiosity overtake a certain lust for payback. You almost begin to capitalize on this, but she sharpens up right as you begin to go on the offensive again. Little progress is made as a...
... huh. Did you just hear something? And what's that infernal itch in your scalp? You look at the guard. She seems to have felt something as well. She looks at the wall behind you, and you check that way also. Some of the guards appear to be vacating their posts with haste. Wonder what that's about.
Leif Erikson, Miner
- A Word: INEVITABLE
- Clanlands Tonic (1 vial)
- Body Count: 1
- Wounds: 3
- 4 large red berries
- Damp and moldy fuel
- The Queen's Guard: A Roaring Good Time
- Reappropriated, Clean Skirt
- Inscribed Wooden Stylus
- Iron Spearhead
- 1.03 gp
- Anglefork Castle: A Free Man
- The Box: ?
- Tower of the Mind: Convenient Relocation
- Induced Inebriation: Comfortably Drunk
- Induced Lucidity: A Concert For The Gods
- Elongated Affairs: Cheerio!
- Compatibility: Minding
- Tricks of the Mind: Cormick's Condescending Riddle
- Tricks of the Mind: Perceptual Rebuke
- Tricks of the Mind: Erikson's Inexplicable Grapefruit
- Tricks of the Mind: Speak With The Mob
- Tricks of the Mind: Headfirst Dive
- Party in the Courtyard: Celebration in Earnest
- Never In: Swallowed By The Pit
- Gods of the Underground: Did You Just What
- Labyrinths of Anglefork: Tunnel-Literate
- The Voracious Dark: Two Deals Made
- The Voracious Dark: The Promised Sixth
- Moth's Flight: A Stop In The Danger Zone
- Troubles In Anglefork Town: Nothing To See Here
- The Secret Life of Stoats: The Average Consciousness
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- Wounds: 2
- Traces of Mischief: A Bubbling Scar
- Reclaimed Hooded Robe (worn, torn)
- Giant White Mushroom
- A Word: SEA
- A Word: HUNGER
- A Word: CHAOS
- A Weapon: Explosive Cysts
- Rat Pantheon: Disliked
- 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
- Touch of Flame: the Secrets of Flammability
- The Voracious Dark: Three Connections Given
- The Voracious Dark: A Special Offer, Limited Time Only
- Stone's Glory: An Uncivil Disagreement
- Body Count: 1
- Never In: the Obvious Candidates
- Labyrinths of Anglefork: Tunnel-Literate
- The Impromptu Prophecy: ?
- Sweet Little Children: Fond Farewell
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Naked
- Dusty Wooden Speaking-Trumpet
- Crossbow Bolt (in throat)
- A Word: REND
- A Word: SILENCE
- A Weapon: Murder-Thought
- Traces of Mischief: A Bisected Left Kidney
- Traces of Mischief: Ruined Left Hand
- Uncoupled: Strength
- Wooden Door (held)
- The Majordomo: ?
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: the Armor of God
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: A Master's In Chemistry
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: A Sliver of Perfection!
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: The Beauty of the Material
- Tower of the Mind: Endless Well of Mystery
- Induced Lucidity: A Garden Well-Tended
- Elongated Affairs: Enemy of the New State
- Doomstones: ?
- A Place In History: Cessation of Hostilities
- Anglefork Castle: the Great Serpent
- The Obsolete Class: Suggested Victims
- 2 rats, crushed
- 1 rat, strangled
- 1 rat, live
- Touch of Flame: the Second Degree
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- The Impromptu Prophecy: There's A Mountain Higher Than We Knew
- The Voracious Dark: Three Connections Given
- The Good Doctor: A Recommendation
- Labyrinths of Anglefork: Suspended Above
- Body Count: 3
- Wounds: 2
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- A Word: ABSENCE
- Traces of Mischief: Nausea's Depths
- A Bowl, Black and Knobby
- Anglefork Castle: From Another Time, Another Land
- Gross Incandescence: Partly Illuminated
- Tight Leather Pants (worn, wet)
- Incredibly Tight Blue Dress (worn, mutilated, mildly provocative)
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Saturday, July 24th, 409 S.D.
- The Majordomo: Busy Morning
- The Good Doctor: House Call
- The Queen's Guard: Space Among The Ranks
- Make A Man Out Of You: A Change of Situation
- The New Queen: Strategic Meeting
- Tower of the Mind: Advice Given
- The Obsolete Class: Let Them Be
- Cruelty-Free Foods: Treats Survived
- Body Count: 2
Oscar Wilde, Chemistry Teacher
- A Word: REVELATION
- Wounds: 2
- 1 rat, skinless and smoked
- 6 gp
- Poor Misshapen Dice
- Lock of Hair (unidentified)
- Iron nail, unused
- An Inauspicious Key
- Burlap Foot Wrappings (worn)
- Burlap Hand Wrappings (worn)
- Moth-Eaten Hat (worn)
- Respectable Brown Skirt (worn)
- Old Brown Waistcoat (worn)
- Bright Yellow Tunic (worn)
- Blue Shards of a Probable Bottle
- Blue Glass Shiv
- A Wealth of Burlap Ribbons
- An Obsolete Class: Trustworthy Individual
- The Flip Side: A Strange Day In The Making
- The Doom Guard: the Inquisition
- Tower of the Mind: An Interruption
- A Frightening Door: An Understanding
- The Voracious Dark: Backed Away
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: The Measure
- The One They Fear: An Invitation