Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 263723 times)

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1875 on:** December 11, 2016, 11:54:03 pm »

"I see. Hospitable is certainly true, though healer wasn't keen on sharing their spirits."

I have pants and I got breakfast, I think it is time to continue our trip. Farewell, until we meet again.

Once we have left the camp, or at least gotten outside of their hearing range, I want to hear Lee's opinion about various clans.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1876 on:** December 12, 2016, 08:45:28 am »

Quote from: Xantalos on December 10, 2016, 01:30:49 pm

*wheeze*

"Hhhhhaaate ... fffffuckinnng ... jumpers. Kill them slow."

No time to waste, quickly make my way away from this damn warehouse. What was the reward for doing this again? Getting to sleep on a bed, I think?

They were going to, but then they tried to run. Smart of them in a way, the commander says. She gets two of her men together to help you up and away. If it's a bed you want, you've certainly earned that at the very least. The two fellows look profoundly dissatisfied at lugging your boneless half-corpse, but the work's easy enough and the commander's more than stern enough to keep any grumbling to a minimum - get this man the finest of beds not yet set aflame, and make sure he is not disturbed!

[A Day's Resolution: 2]

The next few minutes are a blurb as you are lifted off your feet by strong hands, a warehouse going slowly up in flames behind you as they whisk you away along several streets and through several likely candidates for houses that haven't collapsed. You lose consciousness before you are deposited anywhere in particular, and sleep like the dead.

[The Sea of Dreams: 4]

You awaken to the sound of water sloshing around as you roll over on a covering of boiled natural rubber. There are no sheets or covers, not even a pillow, but you feel profoundly free of pain as you open your eyes. You begin to rise and all of a sudden your bones pop and creak in unison like a rusted machine, your muscles taking a moment to define your skeleton as it used to be, as it should be. The crick-crack of everything settling into place as you slide out of bed quiets. You experiment with stretches more out of a bodily restlessness than any deliberate attempt, and finally manage to even out everything, standing up for the first time in a while without needing to undulate into an approximation of stability.

The room you're in is on the second floor, and also evidently looted of all its valuables - not recently so at that, as the dust has resumed gathering in places that used to hold paintings, tapestries and even a desk, the only thing that thieves knew not how to properly move being the waterbed itself. You look out the window, and make out the warehouse burning in the distance, by the docks, and houses in many a state of collapse lining the street outside. A pair of royal guardswomen walk down the street, dragging a well-dressed man behind them by his beard. They are chatting between themselves - he is very weakly screaming, nearly having fallen to the ground from lack of air.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on December 11, 2016, 09:56:36 am

"Oh, you know, a pretty normal state college. Brick buildings and boring landscaping, a few dozen thousand students, and a lot of black squirrels. A ton of research is done there, but not on magical topics. All in all, I think Thorne is a bit more interesting."

I inspect the collapsed upward staircase. How high up would I have to be to reach the second floor? If it seems like I can climb up on the rubble, or stack the nearby desk/bed and climb up on them, then I do so.

A few dozen thousand, she says incredulously as the two of you stand by where the staircase has broken off and receded from the wall. That's a city in its own right! Would it not take a thousand staff at least to see to them all? Throne College had but a few hundred scholars there at its peak. Had they as many as this Kent State working toward a singular purpose, they'd have even the Imaginary section figured out in but a few years.

[Upward Mobility: 5]

Speaking of, she says as the two of you begin digging out the bedframe from under the staircase, what did they research there? It's not as if the people in her college were minders, or even alchemists. Well, except that one man - strange fellow, he was, very fascinated with the Imaginary. Mythical alchemy, he liked to call it. Spent a lot of time in the library, much of it far before her own time as it happens. His students had a less poetic name - practical history, though she always found it a little misleading. A great way to find yourself going north, this practical history turned out to be. And then there were the futurists, who were a slightly different offshoot. Called themselves "predictive historians" when they didn't fashion themselves interdisciplinarians. The strangest lot of all, the three she actually heard of. Had another alchemist among them. Also went north, none returned. A fairly standard story for anybody who spends enough time in the Imaginary section - they tend to develop the strangest kind of revisionist ideas. And quite a lot try to make their own in a much more direct sense. Perhaps its best she's heard little of them since. Unless of course they did do it, but the change extended far enough into the past that nobody noticed. It was a distressingly common argument among them, you see - they, or maybe the King, were changing history, but we simply did not have the manifold sight to observe it directly. Or that history itself changed upon observation. Honestly, things did get very esoteric there, but that's Benzerwald history for you, she supposes as you manage to finally get the thing free from the ruins.

You both carry the frame up the stairs, which seem to be holding up at least halfway up, and start carefully setting it up. Apologies for digressing, she says, it's something of a hab- though when you say a lot of black squirrels, how many do you mean? One or two in every tree, or chirping and swarming in the rafters without end? She is attempting to imagine a city of brick on a flat plain presently, and the squirrels do add something of an... interesting impression either way. How intelligent are they? Like northern rats, perhaps, in that you sense them watching, chittering, waiting? A little more intelligent than they should have any right to be? She has heard accounts that this tends to happen when you let pests proliferate far too much, they build up some kind of unfathomable connection with the land itself. Become the spirit of the place after a sense, she gestures with one hand at the ground as you prop the bedframe across the gap between the staircase and the top floor as an improvised bridge.

There, the doctor says as she walks across the frame, arms outstretched in case balance becomes an issue, far better now, wouldn't you say? You walk across as well - yes, very adequate. The hallway ahead curves in a much more natural way than the inconstant way the rest of the house used to, the second floor bedrooms and adjacent chambers arranged in a very deliberate spiral, the side lined with partly broken, warped windows of paneled. Out of them you see the central room of the house on the first floor, or rather the roof that crumpled in on itself over them, drawing the second floor hallway to close around it in a spiraling manner. The floor feels a little unsteady, but it seems to hold you and the doctor for the most part regardless, so further exploration seems less like wandering into the belly of a raging beast and more of a regular abandoned house trawl - mostly safe, except when it isn't.

Seems reasonably well-preserved, the doctor shrugs. No doubt the owners - probably not the goons outside, mind you, the actual owners from before they were likely horribly killed - lived up here. Hopefully they've left something behind up here to mark their passage.

Quote from: Toaster on December 11, 2016, 10:12:04 am

Thomas looked into the tent. Uhhh... "Ah, uh, yes? Indeed?"

What am I seeing here? Offer words of advice, though they're probably not really helpful at all.

You'd very much like the answer to that question yourself. There's arms and legs, and fingers too. Far too many fingers, jutting out every which way. There are no eyes, but there are teeth. The shape is reminiscent of something, but that is the most confident assertion you can make. You look at Claire, who appears to have retreated several more steps, putting the inside of the tent out of sight. Not going to go in there. No sir.

[How Do We Bury This: 2]

The ranger walks inside, the floor of the tent crunching under his feet in a way that raises far too many questions. He gives the thing a swift kick, and though a part of it caves in under his boot, producing a stream of five-legged crawling things that waste no time in burrowing straight down into the ground, it remains stuck fast through some unknown means.

Well, he says, will probably need a tool of some kind here. Have you a trowel handy, or perhaps a spatula? A bucket could be useful as well, thing's about as ripe as it is frost-crisped. Impressive, really - it can't have been like that for very long, else you'd imagine something would have eaten it.

Quote from: TopHat on December 11, 2016, 04:54:54 pm

"Very interesting. If you'll excuse me though, I'd like to rest a little now. Best be fresh for the morning journey."

Conclude the conversation, then it's time for a spot of rest, methinks. Stay awake, though, and try to monitor the healing process if at all possible. Could be interesting.

Not problem, the watchman shrugs creakily, and to the sounds of a bog gently bubbling, a skeleton hissing to the tune of several more unattended jars of kombucha and the mummy providing percussion you pass out on the couch for a while, your facial rift closing as your head lolls back.

[Considering A Nap: 2]

You are surprisingly quick to relax given the circumstances. As a matter of fact, you've been surprisingly quick to relax throughout the last... week, is it? You wouldn't exactly describe yourself as an individual who could lay down anywhere and pass out, and yet this seems to be exactly what you're doing right now. Obviously being passed out does not do wonders for your powers of observation.

That is, if you did actually pass out. You do close your... er, rift. And then when you open it again everything looks broadly the same, the occupants of the shack now having particularly moved until a light shines on them again and the helmet-banging, hissing and gentle shying away resume in earnest.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on December 11, 2016, 11:54:03 pm

"I see. Hospitable is certainly true, though healer wasn't keen on sharing their spirits."

I have pants and I got breakfast, I think it is time to continue our trip. Farewell, until we meet again.

Once we have left the camp, or at least gotten outside of their hearing range, I want to hear Lee's opinion about various clans.

Oho, there's only so much of those present! Really, if it's a stash you're after, everyone has a little secreted away! For special occasions, you realize, haha! You'd suppose this might be an adequate time to break out his, but he would warn you in advance - a man of his size does need rather a lot for the medicine to work! Usually all of it, his mothers add and shrug, but an exception could possibly be made.

Right, you say, that's all fine and good, but you do need to be on your way. What, Rose's father says, already! But you've only just met! And you are, it seems, going the same way! What's the rush, good fellow! They'll be moving out within the next few hours, when everyone's good and ready - it would only be sensible to stay! Strength in numbers, you know! You look at Rose. She looks at her mothers. Her mothers stare at you much like her father, but with more congeniality than the wild glint of interest in his eyes.

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TopHat · « **Reply #1877 on:** December 12, 2016, 02:21:24 pm »

"Good morning! Maybe. What time is it, anyway? Do you know?
.
Come to think of it, what do you call this language we're speaking?"

Back to basics.

Toaster · « **Reply #1878 on:** December 12, 2016, 03:47:36 pm »

"Um. er. I have a bowl? Or I could use this..."

Offer bowl. Also show sword and offer to use it as per instructed. Don't let him use sword though.

Xantalos · « **Reply #1879 on:** December 12, 2016, 05:52:32 pm »

"Well, that was rather refreshing, I must say. And now I have bones again! So what now, then. I suppose I should find him and eliminate him and his unfortunate knowledge, but that can come whenever I find him, if I ever do. I don't really wanna go back to earth, truthfully, so ... I suppose stick around here for the meantime. See what comes of it."

I notice all the Traces of Mischef are gone, including my mangled hand. Is this true? Do I have ol' lefty again?

Regardless of that result, take a moment to luxuriate in the sensation of standing on stable legs again before heading downstairs from wherever I am.

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1880 on:** December 13, 2016, 11:36:27 am »

"Well, perhaps I could postpone departure a little. Medicine needs some time to work, doesn't it?" Leif says while glancing at Lee. Does her stone face betray any reactions?

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #1881 on:** December 13, 2016, 09:21:43 pm »

I begin exploring the closest bedroom, talking to the doctor as we walk. There are probably some clothes up here she could wear. And maybe something valuable, or at least sharp.

"I guess our schools were quite different. Without any spatial or historical anomalies on campus, the students are spread out among hundreds of specializations. And there are a few squirrels in every tree and field. They don't have the teeming hordes or the suspicious intelligence of the rats I've seen in Anglefork. Anyway, enough about my boring university... where is Thorne college? Far from here, I assume?"

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1882 on:** December 15, 2016, 04:36:04 pm »

Quote from: TopHat on December 12, 2016, 02:21:24 pm

"Good morning! Maybe. What time is it, anyway? Do you know?
.
Come to think of it, what do you call this language we're speaking?"

Back to basics.

The watchman shrugs. Only check time when go out. Now not going out. So no need to check time. No?

[Linguistic Mysteries: 4]

And language. He thinks for a good long time on this. Language has name. What is name? Name is. Name is. Name is.

His head lolls one way, then the other as he ruminates on the words. Name is low tongue. Is tongue of borderlands, but name is low tongue. Close to new tongue, but new tongue is shinier. Cleaner. Not so real as low tongue. Maybe not real at all.

Quote from: Toaster on December 12, 2016, 03:47:36 pm

"Um. er. I have a bowl? Or I could use this..."

Offer bowl. Also show sword and offer to use it as per instructed. Don't let him use sword though.

That's a start, the ranger says as he looks at the bowl, but you really would likely need to have some kind of scoop as well and hello, what's that you have there?

You look at your sword. Ah, you say, that's your sword. One feels the need to introduce oneself. You warn off the ranger as he instinctively goes to touch it, it can be a mite ornery if touched inappropriately, you say. One wouldn't mind being touched, of course, but one would surmise that it would also not let slip the possibility of more material as a sheer matter of excellent conditioning. The ranger stops, looking between you and oneself as a clearer picture begins to form. Aha, he says, some kind of sorcerous thing! He's not quite seen the like, but the principle's clear enough! Sword away, good sir!

[A Most Uncommon Material: 3]

You let one at it, not needing more provocation than that, and shank the long blade right into the mess on the tent floor. What follows is quick, clean and surprisingly nonviolent - there is but a momentary sucking sound before you find yourself before a relatively clean tent floor, the only thing remaining being a few stray droplets of bright orange, a little too difficult to pinpoint exactly for you to start waving oneself around carelessly lest you find yourself short your nightly shelter, but also perhaps not overly bothersome despite this.

Efficient, the ranger comments. Where can he get one of those? He'd imagine there'd be less trouble from forest varmints for sure if he had a thingum like that, yes sir! Is it gone, Claire asks from behind with an air of disgust, is it clear? Clean as the driven snow, the ranger replies! Claire seems unconvinced as she looks to you.

Quote from: Xantalos on December 12, 2016, 05:52:32 pm

"Well, that was rather refreshing, I must say. And now I have bones again! So what now, then. I suppose I should find him and eliminate him and his unfortunate knowledge, but that can come whenever I find him, if I ever do. I don't really wanna go back to earth, truthfully, so ... I suppose stick around here for the meantime. See what comes of it."

I notice all the Traces of Mischef are gone, including my mangled hand. Is this true? Do I have ol' lefty again?

Regardless of that result, take a moment to luxuriate in the sensation of standing on stable legs again before heading downstairs from wherever I am.

Papa's got a brand new hand! Well, of course it doesn't look exactly right. But a very reasonable - hang on a second. You go to the wall and punch it rather hard, simultaneously creating a sizable hole in it and dislocating most of the bones in your hand, then take a moment to painstakingly rearrange them, your murder-thought scratching at the walls as this fails to register as more than a blip on your desensitized agony radar. Aha, there you go, you say out loud as you manage to get both hands looking broadly the same. Seems like they weren't kidding about waterbeds being therapeutic.

Anyway, you head downstairs, hanging a left from the bedroom door. The rest of the house looks no less looted - indeed, the only things not taken away seem to be nailed down, or rather integral parts of the interior. There's a peculiar-looking copper desk fused into one of the walls, its drawers pulled out and made off with, and as you head down the stairs a surprisingly effective optical illusion painted on the side wall manages to create a feeling of contrasting motion, which does make you wonder what the artist was thinking in putting that on the side of a flight of stairs.

As you get down, you find yourself in the main room of sorts, where not so much a hearth as a boiler rests to one side next to a set of broken chairs and destroyed ceramics, all covered in no small amount of rather old blood nobody's bothered to clean up. You push open the door and dance nakedly into the street, giddy with excitement at getting so delightfully boned when you least expected, and as the guardswomen wave to you, then force their captive to wave weakly as well, you wonder what sort of murder will this remarkably pain-free night will entail as you look on the starry sky, plumes of smoke still rising from distant fires to partly obscure the overbearing moon looking down on the town.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on December 13, 2016, 11:36:27 am

"Well, perhaps I could postpone departure a little. Medicine needs some time to work, doesn't it?" Leif says while glancing at Lee. Does her stone face betray any reactions?

You should! It is best to take it easy with these things! You may be young, but there are only so many mostly naked adventures a man can enjoy without a good bit of relief! And what better way to find such a thing than to sit back and relax among your peers, or at least he would hope you consider him such a thing! One would hope indeed, the ventral mother adds. If you don't mind of course, the other one says as well. Don't feel troubled by it though, Rose is quick to say, it is no real obligation, honest! You can go if you like, it is not any sort of problem!

[More Important Things To Do: 5]

You look to Lee, who you suppose has had enough of this shit. And you would suppose more than correctly, her eyes appear to say. Time is short, she says. And there is much to do. Apologies, she says in a manner charitably described as terribly begrudged, but she must take you along. Much to speak of. Many things to discuss. She nods exactly once after a few seconds of silence, then motions for you to follow as she starts heading quickly away as the father begins to raise his finger with a no doubt intriguing counterargument.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on December 13, 2016, 09:21:43 pm

I begin exploring the closest bedroom, talking to the doctor as we walk. There are probably some clothes up here she could wear. And maybe something valuable, or at least sharp.

"I guess our schools were quite different. Without any spatial or historical anomalies on campus, the students are spread out among hundreds of specializations. And there are a few squirrels in every tree and field. They don't have the teeming hordes or the suspicious intelligence of the rats I've seen in Anglefork. Anyway, enough about my boring university... where is Thorne college? Far from here, I assume?"

[And What Do I Find: 4]

You head into the nearest bedroom, and find it rather fortunately to be in fairly good shape, and quite recently inhabited at that - the bed has clearly been slept in no later than just last night, and the walk-in closet door is a little ajar. A young woman's room, the doctor supposes as her eyes rest on an impressive vanity at one side of the room. Then again, she takes another look around, most of the furniture does look dragged in here. Scratched the parquet, even.

But yes, she says, Throne College is fairly far away. Just off Emperor's Glen, she says, and stares as she notices that this isn't ringing any bells. Not too far from Leavenpool! No? It's, er... well, it's not exactly close to First Principle, but- and you don't know what that is, do you. You look around awkwardly - the place seems a bit too small for all the couches, tables and such placed in here, as if someone began to furnish it and simply couldn't stop. You pick up a music box from atop a dresser wedged in between an armoire and what looks like an overly serious cross between a chess set and a Candyland board, all carved out of redwood and bear-ivory. You start winding it and it produces a tune you remember singing along with the memorizer back in the inn. It seems suddenly like a very long time ago.

You're playing it too fast, the doctor says as she fetches a different box from a dangerously unbalanced end table. Aha, she says as she opens it, jewelry. She drags out a long, fine silver necklace. In the sparing, dying daylight it still manages to glitter. Anyway, she says, Throne College is... well, in absolute terms she'd suppose it to be a little more than a hundred miles south, and also a little west from there. Oh, you say, so not far from Ark City?

The doctor nearly drops the jewelry box. Ark City, she says, clearly a little incensed. That's not even a real place! Honestly you'll want to perhaps educate yourself more thoroughly on- you know something, let's just you and her check the closet already. And you do - much to your delight, somebody has taken the time to collect quite a wealth of clothing in here. Mostly women's, and of a vast variety of different sizes, most of which appear to have been dumped in the corner ignominiously and the rest of them quite a bit too small for either you or your companion. You sit down a moment and root through it. With your help the doctor unearths a fairly stately blue traveling dress after tossing away a few rather delicate and incredibly uncomfortable hoop-skirted, corseted things. Taking the time to find a few other matching articles to complete the look, she manages to clothe herself quite fully - not as academic as she'd like to travel, mind, but certainly a damn sight better than running around naked. Even found a nice dark woolen shawl to go with it. Who knows, might be enough to actually keep her warm at that.

[Bottom of the Pile: 2]

You're less fortunate, as the pile seems to get increasingly more impractical and at times disastrously revealing as you go through it, and there's not a pair of shoes in here that you do not strongly suspect would neither hold up on a protracted hike or let your feet survive it to a particular degree. The selection here looks like a magpie went specifically through a house looking for the shiniest and strangest-looking outfits they could find.

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Xantalos · « **Reply #1883 on:** December 15, 2016, 08:25:30 pm »

"Things are looking up for ol' Jack! Excellent, excellent.

Say, guardswomen, how's the looting and pillaging or what-have-you of this place going? And where can I find the queen from here? I'm in a mood to get out and accomplish something. Probably involving violence."

Get info from nearby guardswomen! Regardless of their answer, head back inside momentarily - I want to try to store the bed I slept in inside my well-given storage space. It probably won't work, but best to try.

Then, if I've been given directions to the queen, go head in her direction.

Toaster · « **Reply #1884 on:** December 15, 2016, 10:42:09 pm »

"Well, I got it after winning a sword duel with the leader of the stout fellows sieging the castle; I imagine there aren't many like it. Or they might have some spares; I really don't know. It's quite nice, though. Yes, Claire, it is clean in here."

Now that that's sorted, perhaps aim toward settling down for the night?

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1885 on:** December 16, 2016, 01:59:19 am »

Leif glances at back of leaving Lee and shrugs.

"Well, she's not wrong about that. I suppose we will meet in Elizabeth then, once I have done my task there I have a plenty time to hang around. Thanks for breakfast and pants, have a good time and see you later!"

Jog after Lee, and after some time inquire about her opinion of various clans.

TopHat · « **Reply #1886 on:** December 16, 2016, 04:26:21 pm »

"Not real? What do you mean by that?
And how many people speak... Low Tongue? It seems rather widespread."

Probably best to put the glass back while I'm at it.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1887 on:** December 18, 2016, 06:06:27 pm »

Quote from: Xantalos on December 15, 2016, 08:25:30 pm

"Things are looking up for ol' Jack! Excellent, excellent.

Say, guardswomen, how's the looting and pillaging or what-have-you of this place going? And where can I find the queen from here? I'm in a mood to get out and accomplish something. Probably involving violence."

Get info from nearby guardswomen! Regardless of their answer, head back inside momentarily - I want to try to store the bed I slept in inside my well-given storage space. It probably won't work, but best to try.

Then, if I've been given directions to the queen, go head in her direction.

Oh, the guardswoman says, they're nearly done. Mostly they're only resting so that they're nice and ready to move out in the morning. That and the interrogations and executions of course, these dissidents don't repress themselves and they have accumulated a lot of stuff. Some of it not even buried under tons of rubble and ruin.

[So Many People To Kill: 5]

You might want to come along maybe, the other one winks at you, there's a whole bunch that the queen's supposed to pass final judgment on in the morning after she wakes up. Then there's also splitting the loot - they made a big pile, you know! Pretty much everything's there now, waiting for the big split which should be in... hell, she hasn't been paying that much attention, three hours maybe? Something like that. They're figuring out the raffle as you speak.

Actually, probably should get there sharpish, the other guardswoman suggests. Otherwise the line might get too long. Excellent point, the other one nods. You notice they look extremely similar when you look closer. They hand you the beard of their captive and you, rather delighted with your ability to grip things, can't help but immediately accept. It's a very well-kept beard, you must admit. The man whimpers as you crumple it in your hands. You probably know what to do, one of the guardswomen shrugs. And if you don't, the other one adds, just keep him anyway. Honestly he probably doesn't even know anything. See you!

And with that they're off, the fellow staring at you with wet, miserable eyes, knelt in front of you in pain. You suppose that's something. You pull him with you delicately enough to not rip out his magnificent facial hair as you guide him into the house and up some stairs, where you stand in front of the waterbed. You place your free hand on it as your captive looks on in bemusement, but somehow you suspect that whatever extradimensional horror is implanted into you, it's not exactly hungry for waterbeds.

[Excellent Deals On Bedding Solutions: 5]

Although when you touch it you do perceive the faintest flicker of doubt, which may mean it's not quite as hopeless as you would ordinarily think. Probably a bit of a hard sell though. You'd need a cunning argument for certain.

Quote from: Toaster on December 15, 2016, 10:42:09 pm

"Well, I got it after winning a sword duel with the leader of the stout fellows sieging the castle; I imagine there aren't many like it. Or they might have some spares; I really don't know. It's quite nice, though. Yes, Claire, it is clean in here."

Now that that's sorted, perhaps aim toward settling down for the night?

And it's got a story too, the ranger marvels! Very nice, very nice indeed!

[Terrible Things Have Happened Here: 3]

Claire moves closer and takes a look inside before hesitantly getting in. She roots through the stuff in there, retrieving a bedroll. She... supposes it will do, after checking it for any terrible things remaining within and finding blissfully few. The same does not appear to be just as true of the other three bedrolls. One seems to have been torn open in an attempt to escape, and one seems to host something rather terribly liquefied (or perhaps has partly liquefied in its own right). And the third just suddenly twitches when she pokes at it, shying away from her touch, navigating toward the large gash in the side of the tent that somebody appears to have ripped open.

It's not the best kind of shelter, clearly. But, Claire shrugs, she supposes it is better than nothing at all for certain, no? You would be all right with her taking the clean bedroll, she says in the most gently implied imperative you have ever heard. And you must do something about that terrible opening in the side - the wind will no doubt be picking up, she comments. As it does out here, the ranger offers! He might have some needle and thread for you, he says - never know, might have left it in someone on the way.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on December 16, 2016, 01:59:19 am

Leif glances at back of leaving Lee and shrugs.

"Well, she's not wrong about that. I suppose we will meet in Elizabeth then, once I have done my task there I have a plenty time to hang around. Thanks for breakfast and pants, have a good time and see you later!"

Jog after Lee, and after some time inquire about her opinion of various clans.

The large man seems terribly disappointed, but his wives are all smiles as they bid you a synchronized farewell, and when you look back briefly as Lee leads you on a very straight path out of here you see Rose, lost in wistful thought as she watches you go. She smiles absently and waves, and then both you and Lee are gone. You do need to step up the pace every now and then as you start to fall behind, and she shows no signs of stopping until you are a good mile away from the Gallfly camp, the morning looking absolutely splendid as you get quite a bit underway.

So, you begin to ask, what about all these clans, you do get the sense-

[An Important Discussion: 1]

She very suddenly turns around, her face fixed. Never mind that, she very resolutely says to you, inhaling slowly. When she said there were things to discuss, she meant other things. More important. Oh, you say, would this be about-

Shut up, she replies and begins to compose her thoughts. She looks around as if to check for anyone at all possibly listening, her gaze lingering in particular on a nearby hillock that's been sundered in half by another of these ubiquitous craters from your earlier misadventure.

This, she indicates all around herself. This is all confusing. Things have moved fast. But now you approach important places. Sacred places. It is important to keep composure. And hold on to dignity, what little you have. Do you understand? She casts an eye toward the Gallfly camp with obvious distaste, possessed of a wild-eyed tension.

Quote from: TopHat on December 16, 2016, 04:26:21 pm

"Not real? What do you mean by that?
And how many people speak... Low Tongue? It seems rather widespread."

Probably best to put the glass back while I'm at it.

Means what he means. Not real. Made up. Fake. That is high tongue. Low tongue is here, kingdom-speak. Tongue of dead and lost, washed up in bog of ages. You speak low tongue well, for man who is neither. It is thing you pick up, when throat-noise gets harder, when organs dry up. Suits low folk, kings, Wicked King himself. In kingdom low tongue is tongue of all. He looks into the distance, or rather keeps doing so in a more thoughtful, philosophical way.

You put down the glass on a nearby mound of garbage. Leaving soon, the watchman says. You're unsure if that's a question.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

Xantalos · « **Reply #1888 on:** December 18, 2016, 07:17:54 pm »

My argument is thus: keeping a bed around where I can deposit it at anytime will let me heal fully should I become injured like before, which drastically aids efficiency by allowing me to move faster than a crawl should my legs become disabled again. Additionally, it'll free me from having to go back to settled places should I need to venture to bedless places in search of souls. Is that sufficient persuasion?

Regardless of the result, also store the bearded fellow in storage space and head to the queen.

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1889 on:** December 19, 2016, 03:47:18 am »

"Dignity? When in Rome, do as the Romans do. That's how I work when I have confidence about situation. So when dignity is called for then dignity is what I provide, although these itchy britches do drop amount of available dignity to very low."

"I get things are confusing. These things are all new for me too, I'm experiencing almost all of this for first time. I have no clue what's happening half of the time, but I'm taking it on the stroll, riding the current so to speak and see where it takes me. There's no captain on this boat. I want out of the boat, but there's no shore on sight and ocean is full of monsters, so all I can do is to enjoy what I can see. If I gave you impression I know what I'm doing, then I'm sorry. I really don't."

Bleed my heart, and win hers.

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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 263723 times)

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