Wear the dress thing, assuming it fits for my large frame, and get rid of the old skirt thingy. It has served me long and well enough.
"Apparently stoatmen took over the... the banzerwarld or something, I forgot the name of the country." Leif whipers quietly. "Things have not been going well for humans in there. So minders of Anglefork Castle decided summon demons to help, failed, and instead got attention of something far worse. That recent event was kind of side effect of that. Yeah, Lee was captured by stoats as well. I managed to free her so now we are on our way to north to meet Great Moth or whatever their boss was called. Talking about clans, one of my gods said now would be good time for the clans take over. It was in context of Moths and Storks, so if your clan is one of those type of clans, I suppose it includes your people too."
Explaining stuff, greatly downplaying my part in recent events and delivering the prophecy Hœnir told me.
You put on the moth-dress, and it fits with a pleasing dry snugness, you think as you cast away your now-useless skirt, figuring the extra warmth and camouflage is likely to come in more handy than the ability to show off your immaculately stout viking physique. Speaking of, the lady does regard you rather admiringly as you put the robe on, a question momentarily on her mind, but one she doesn't sign to you in any obvious fashion.
Fascinating, she says as you explain more to her. The Moths have a very fine story gift indeed to present in the meet if what you say is accurate. Though she does wonder who
you might be in that case - you seem to be very heavily implying some sort of otherness. But you do not appear to be from El, or a dead man, and neither are you from the kingdom of the strange. And you speak of gods, and speak
with gods - are you some form of exotic pilgrim, then? Not to pry, mind you. She's just never seen anyone quite like yourself here in the north.
Well, I'd love to stay and chat but hey, look at the time.
Toss off a truly blinding REVELATION at Daniels to distract him, grab Nately, run for it.
You're not quite sure who says it first, it's a little hazy, but the Words come out, and they come out in a most prodigious fashion.
SILENCE REVELATION
[Words: 3+4]
The Words meet and explode into a wave of spreading silence, enveloping your mind like thick, damp sheet of lead, and all of a sudden everything becomes heavy and strangely clear, far too real for your liking, and you feel your own heartbeat start to boom in your ears, and quicken persistently in a suddenly extremely uncomfortable feedback loop.
[The Sound of Silence: 5]
Seeing Mr. Daniels twist and turn in your direction as death stalks the skies, you act quickly and decisively, seizing Nately by the shoulders and tucking him under your arm - he offers but a shell-shocked look in response as you tuck him under the arm, callow and very clearly starved as he is you find him remarkably easy to carry, and with him in hand you start to make your escape.
[Circle of Death: 5 vs. 1]
Luckily for you, Mr. Daniels seems less in command of his faculties than you are, and his murder-thought flails noiselessly around as you walk the middle ground between running the fuck away and a grand mal seizure - your pursuer gestures like a murderous naked rag doll as he tries to bar your path, looking like he's conducting for an imaginary, yet remarkably unruly horn section, with all the results that you'd expect.
You run, and keep running as he fails to follow - the silence continues on much further than you would expect. Is it spreading.
((Whoops, meant to wait for Tophat to post before I did since I provided the ultimatum.))
Bar their escape with my murder-thought, and don't be shy about removing a few peripheral parts.
SILENCE the revelation if I can react in time - this might seem like I'm acting a tad bit meta, I admit - I'm just using it as a catchall conditional for if words are fired off at me in any situation at the moment.
You try to preemptively catch Mr. Wilde in the Word he is about to speak, or do you speak yours after him? It's hard to tell now as it pours out of you, menacing reality itself with its power. Does the question even make sense?
SILENCE REVELATION
[Words: 3+4]
The Words! The Words! They blend together and blossom outward into a silence as heavy as the world itself, eating sound and stifling thought as they wash over you.
[The Sound of Silence: 4]
You bend and twist uncomfortably, seeking a place to hear, you shiver and shake, but the feeling doesn't quite leave you, this animal feeling of being in a place you should not be - you control your twisting and look upon Mr. Wilde, who has begun to make a run for it. You must stop him - you will stop him. You let loose the murder-thought, flopping your arm grotesquely to all the more viciously aim its soundless path through the air.
[Circle of Death: 1 vs. 5]
It spins and circles, but it, much like your own thoughts, is hard to place when it is so far outside its head. You do not sense its presence in any way but the most abstract, and it solidly misses anything of value or importance as Mr. Wilde dodges and weaves like a victim of tetanus, his limbs somehow far more responsive than yours as he speeds away, a visibly shaken blacksmith under his arm, and they run as you try to sweep with your thought and pursue, but to no avail as they rapidly outpace you and flee beyond any reasonable distance at which you could harass them with your ill intentions alone.
Okay, so... moving is bad, staying still is bad, magic is bad... maybe some explosions will shake things up? I try to lob the cysts away from myself a decent distance, but I'm not sure if that matters at this point. I'm not sure if anything matters here.
[Explosive Ascent: 6]
You wonder. A cyst forms, and releases energy. Standing at the bottom, you feel yourself shake, and the explosion go through you.
Is there a problem you can't solve by leaping from an explosion, you wonder as you slide upward on the flat plane of nothing you find yourself squeezed into, having shed your third dimension somewhere along the way. You feel yourself slow down, and let loose another cyst for good measure - you continue to fly upward and onward, ever higher. Curious and surprisingly free of pain, you keep it up, having no real sense of where you might be or what this might mean, but treasuring the rush of an explosion rubbing its energy off on you and taking you higher.
By the time you consider that you've maybe had enough of that explosion juice, you notice yourself extremely high up. You look at your hands. They appear to be glowing. And beneath you there is a great sea of nothingness, but in it you see a few things - patches of deep dark, patches of pure blackness, patches of blinding light, and patches of strange color - a thousand points of light and dark, none of them terribly easy to discern under these conditions. Beneath you could be anywhere, and you've got a long way down.
These people are being silly. Best give them a bit of distance while things happen. Enjoy this show since I missed the last.
You let the boys have their staring contest, but then it suddenly turns into a shouting match, simultaneously both terse and monosyllabic, but strangely powerful all the same.
SILENCE REVELATION
You see Mr. Wilde spasm, Mr. Daniels bend, and both the good doctor and the fine blacksmith buckle on the spot as everything goes oddly quiet, and a muted waterfall of colorless relaxation goes over your mind. It feels a lot like work, you find.
[The Sound of Silence: 5]
You look on in anticipation at what could possibly happen next, remaining meditatively still as your insurance salesman instincts take over and you get that tingling feeling you get when the probability curve comes up your way - which, you being an insurance salesman, it does more often than not, it's really the main perk of the job. Kind of like running a casino, except people are betting that they'll die and actually
want to lose.
But putting aside this slight lyrical waxing, Mr. Wilde seems to have suddenly realized he needs to return some videotapes with his young friend, to which Mr. Daniels is responding with a friendly, if rather exaggerated wave, though you're not at all sure what's happening to his face at the moment.
Leif Erikson, Miner
- A Word: INEVITABLE
- A Word: APOCALYPSE
- Moth-robe (worn)
- Body Count: 228
- Mead of Poetry (5 shining revelations remaining)
- Enders' Friend: The Grave of Red Clouds Parting
- Inscribed Wooden Stylus
- Iron spear
- 1.03 gp
- The Box: ?
- Induced Lucidity: the Aftermath, or the New Beginning
- Compatibility: Minding
- Tricks of the Mind: Perception, Memory
- Tricks of the Mind: Engagement, Negation, Abstraction, Prestige
- Tricks of the Mind: the Self, the Other
- Gods of the Underground: Did You Just What
- A Visit From The Stork: Is What You Yes
- The Voracious Dark: Two Deals Made
- The Voracious Dark: The Promised Sixth
- Moth's Flight: Not In Her Wildest Dreams
- An Ancient Sea: The Hedonist's Inspiration
- The Miracle of Life: A Weary Traveler
Eileen Minett, Vinyl Collector
- A Word: HUNGER
- A Weapon: Explosive Cysts
- Higher Tonight: The Top Of The World
Jack Daniels, Karate Man
- Naked
- Red and gold vest and breeches combo
- Leather boots
- Traces of Mischief: 90% Boneless
- Wounds: 1
- 14033 gp (in sack)
- The Flip Side: Uh, Yeah
- The Queen's Guard: Unusual Troublemaker
- Powers of the Beyond: Gardener of Thoughts
- Dusty Wooden Speaking-Trumpet
- Crossbow Bolt (in throat)
- A Word: REND
- A Word: SILENCE
- A Weapon: Murder-Thought
- Uncoupled: Strength
- Wooden Door (held)
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: Back To The Drawing Board
- Tower of the Mind: Endless Well of Mystery
- Induced Lucidity: A Garden Well-Tended
- Elongated Affairs: Enemy of the New State
- A Place In History: Vastly Unreliable
- Anglefork Castle: the Great Worm
- The Obsolete Class: Suggested Victims
- 2 rats, crushed
- 1 rat, strangled
- 1 rat, live
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday ± 2 Days
- The Impromptu Prophecy: There's A Mountain Higher Than We Knew
- Doomstones: So High Up But Such A Bitter View
- The Majordomo: A Great Divide Between Us Now
- The Voracious Dark: Decreasing Demand
- The Voracious Dark: More Specific Requests
- The Good Doctor: An Eager Listener
- Body Count: 3
Thomas Minstep, Insurance Agent
- Troubles In Anglefork Town: Bearer of the Sword
- Wet tree branch
- A Word: ABSENCE
- A Word: GOODBYE
- A Weapon: The Sword They Fear
- Traces of Mischief: Nausea's Depths
- A Bowl, Black and Knobby
- Anglefork Castle: From Another Time, Another Land
- Tight Leather Pants (worn)
- Incredibly Tight Blue Dress (worn, mutilated, mildly provocative)
- Travels In The Fourth Dimension: Sunday, July 25th, 409 S.D.
- The Majordomo: Busy Morning
- The Good Doctor: House Call
- The Queen's Guard: A Reward Well Earned
- Make A Man Out Of You: A Crowning Achievement
- The New Queen: Lasting Gratitude
- Tower of the Mind: Advice Given
- The Obsolete Class: Let Them Be
- The One They Fear: A Satisfactory Contract
- A Place In History: A Worthwhile Associate
- The Box: Absolutely Delightful
- The Flip Side: One of Them
- Body Count: 2
Oscar Wilde, Chemistry Teacher
- A Word: REVELATION
- Wounds: 1
- The Serpent's Egg: Dissemination
- Body Count: 4
- Time-ender's measure (wrapped, yawning)
- 10 m of rope
- Half a candle
- 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)
- A Wealth of Burlap Ribbons
- An Obsolete Class: Trustworthy Individual
- The Doom Guard: The Inquisition Moves On
- Tower of the Mind: Get Away
- The Winding Path of Inspiration: The Less Dangerous Friend