"Hush you, this is important to save you all from the stoats. You want to be important and shit, don't you? You'll probably be given a better occupation than servant if you do well enough."
Lie my metaphorical (since I'm not wearing any) pants off to placate her as I continue to drag her over to the shrine. Sacrifice time!
She seems less than inclined to believe your argument for some reason. Perhaps if you weren't such a filthy naked idjit of questionable origin and motivation. You really should put some clothes on at some point, you suppose.
[Break the Chains: 1 vs. 5+1]
Fortunately, keeping her at arm's length while she flails about trying to kick out of your grip is simple enough, so you carry her over to the shrine, where the altar awaits with what you can't help but perceive as terrible eagerness. You're not entirely positive about how this sacrifice is supposed to occur, you realize. You guess you could just let it come to you as you go.
Now that is most reckless idea I have had for a while. Not that my other ideas haven't been reckless, but... Oh hell, let's do it!
Get into his view and make this into minding resistance test and training. Teach him how to kick me out, if I even know how to do that. If he can kick me out of his mind he succeeds. If he fails... well, then he fails. Consequences of failure include relocation into less pleasant job.
[Mysteries of the Mind: 6]
You there, you say to the stoatman, who still seems rather intimidated by your presence. Yes, he asks? Is there some way he can, er, help? Why yes, you say! He can cooperate with you as you try to find an exit out of this shithole of a mind.
Wait, he says. This is a mind? Whose mind? His mind, you shout exasperatedly. You would have thought that was abundantly clear from all his thoughts springing up into existence just as he was thinking them. It's a very sloppy sort of mind, you note with obvious displeasure. Hasn't he ever had a crash course in thought organization or mindscape generation? Of course not, you say as you look around.
Wait. Wait wait wait. The stoat raises a finger. This is his mind, then. What's he supposed to be in this? A mind within a mind? You correct him swiftly and sternly - he's the ego, basically, and also a dolt. And he ought to interrupt you less.
So wait, he interrupts you again. So this is his mind, and he's thinking all this. Ergo, what he thinks is real in here, yes? Yes, you say. In fact, that's exactly the thing you wanted to teach him about. Building structures out of thought. Making mindscapes. Simplicity itself, once you get used to it. You relate your own experience with burning cathedrals and booming heavy metal covers to him as a colorful example, which seems to grab his attention.
Right, so wait a moment, he says right as you are about to relate to him the marvel of vodkafruit. This all sounds like minding. Yes, you confirm, that's exactly what it is. The elementary bits, anyway. The starter test. If you can do all this by age six you're about good to be a minder in your later life.
Sweet, he comments, and you can't help but agree. But what's he supposed to do with this? You inform him that his job is to get you out of here! Swiftly! Okay. How? It's simple, really. You just need a bit of context. With that in mind, you relay to this dull stoat the basics of the mind's makeup, the interaction of two minds and the techniques of invasion and resistance that arise from these. To your knowledge, you seem to have linked your perceptions to a thought-form that you projected into his mind forcibly. Since you lack the tools to untether them from one another, you really just need a bit of rebuke, you think. One with a little kick. Enough to make your thought-form nope right the hell out of this place.
The first step is recognition. He looks upon you, and you let him recognize your alien nature. You do not belong here. Come to think of it, you don't probably belong in Anglefork Town altogether, being a minder and all. The second step, then, is isolation! Look, it's happening already, you point as thoughtspace begins to constrict around you. And then there's the third simple step - rejection! You look the stoat in the eyes with a grin, arms wide open. The stoat considers this a moment. Rejection, huh? Well, he does have some experience with that. Let him show you something his first girlfriend did.
You barely raise an eyebrow before the stoatman's body whips into a supernaturally quick right hook, going into your face and a considerable distance through it before the rest of your body begins to catch up with the momentum. You are not so much sent flying as violently taken apart, each individual piece flying at supersonic speeds down a deep, dark tunnel of thought, disappearing into the unknown. The flight takes but a short moment as all of your bits impact the far wall of the stoatman's consciousness, splattering as most of your important components reach the other side of the great barrier as a fine red mist.
Oddly enough, you find yourself flying as you awaken. Or, rather, landing. Into what seems to be a wall. The impact is slightly undercut by the way most of your body hurts before you even meet the unforgiving, sturdy wood of the building, though it certainly doesn't help much. You peel off the wall limply and fall to the ground on your back, wondering if perhaps there was a more optimal way to do this. Casting an eye about, you notice that you seem to be somewhere other than where you originally dove into the stoat's mind. An alleyway, to be specific.
Next to you stands Lee, quite on guard from your sudden and violent awakening. She looks you over and sighs, then handily retrieves that vial she gave you previously. Open your mouth, she says.
"You know, I haven't the faintest idea. Losing texture? That sounds concerning, how long did that last, exactly?
Oh, and hello again Mr. Minstep. How are you doing?"
Hey, wait a minute, what did happen there? Can I remember anything out of the ordinary?
Quite a while if one didn't miss anything. Enough for three whole guardsmen to check up on what that knocking was about.
As for what you remember, well, not much really. You guess you kind of spaced out or something. We all have moments when we're less present than usual. Yours just seem to carry side effects.
And Mr. Minstep appears to be quite all right. That's good to know at least.
Not the situation I expected, but I can probably work with this. "Hey, I have someone here who's thinking about apprenticing, especially if it means escape. How about we get her a drink?" I attempt to get Claire's help convincing the girl. And hopefully alcohol can make the deal seem a little more tempting.
A drink! That can be arranged. Let the good doctor handle that, Claire says and the grubby woman nods, bringing a mug over to your companion, who takes it, only taking a polite experimental sip when the doctor begins to mime the process enthusiastically. Halfway through the effort she has a better idea and just starts on another mug of mead in earnest instead.
Anyway, apprenticing, Claire says, slowly rising out of bed as she gets herself in a state resembling order. There's kind of been a problem there, she says, slowly coming over to you, gesturing with her own mug at the floor panel. See, there was this one guy who came in and she "apprenticed" him, so to speak, but the old, if you'll pardon the expression, the old bastard didn't take the bait for some reason. So she's having some doubts about this dropping people into a pit business. As anyone probably would, the good doctor offers in the middle of finding yet more mead in the carpenter's stores.
The girl you brought with you starts to give you a frankly mistrustful look, and nearly jumps when Claire puts a hand on her shoulder. Fret not, poor girl, she says. There's probably an escape route in there somewhere, she says. It's just that the goddamn carpenter's in the goddamn way. So she thinks this probably calls for a Plan B of some kind. The doctor's had some suggestions, Claire nods in the appropriate direction. The doctor turns around excitedly, having produced a rather shiny-looking knife on command, an interesting feat given the lack of obvious hiding places. She's been interested in what living underground does to a man's physiology, you see.
There is a series of knocks on the panel. Claire rolls her eyes and turns toward it. Yes, she is still
perfectly aware that you can hear all that, and her retort is still
fuck you in case you're interested.
So anyway, can you two maybe help with that? The old bastard's probably trapped the place to high heaven while she and the doctor were working up some courage, so to speak.
"Ah... uh... hmm, nice trick. But no, I am not a guard... well, I suppose I am a contract employee of the guard, but not technically an employee of the guard. I am still an insurance agent by trade. On that note, though, the guard I am working under would like to know what it is you want. Hello, Mr. Wilde. Pretty well; and you?"
Converse.
Oh, one surely couldn't tell you about that. It would ruin the surprise. One is under the impression that surprise is important in these cases.
In fact, why don't you get your superior over here? One feels that there is much that one would do well to bring to their attention, and you seem like such a handy fellow for that sort of thing. One rarely gets contracted help of your caliber.
Mr. Wilde, for his part, looks slightly disturbed about something.
Leif Erikson, Miner
- A Word: INEVITABLE
- Body Count: 1
- Wounds: 4
- 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: Harnessing Potential
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: Change of Priority
- Labyrinths of Anglefork: Tunnel-Literate
- The Flip Side: Giving Up
- The Impromptu Prophecy: ?
- Sweet Little Children: Fond Farewell
- The One They Fear: Sneaking a Peek
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Naked
- 1 servant (alive, restraint: 0)
- Temples of the True Gods: an Implicit Request
- 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: Vastly Unreliable
- 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 Test of Worth and Skill
- The New Queen: Strategic Meeting
- Tower of the Mind: Advice Given
- The Obsolete Class: Let Them Be
- Cruelty-Free Foods: Treats Survived
- The One They Fear: Solid Contract Work
- 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: a Laid-Back Quest