Just Like Magic
Luatyr decides to excuse herself to step back outside, hoping to discover more about this magic of which she's recently learned. At first she considers climbing onto the roof for more privacy, but she can't seem to find a ladder, and, besides, she's never tested whether she has a cat-like falling reflex and doesn't want to have to start now. Walking out the front door, she's immediately met with the sight, and, more importantly, smell of a huge pile of rotting flesh, the occasional arms poking out of it revealing it as humanoid in origin. If she had investigated it assiduously, she would have found that it seemed to consist only of the torsos of about fifty people, but she did not. Instead, she backs into the house again and decides to head for the backyard instead.
Unfortunately, Luatyr has very little idea how magic even works, and is reduced to waving her arms vaguely while looking around to see if anything happens. She tries a few different gestures, and even mutters some magic words she made up on the spot, but nothing seems to change around her, and she's starting to feel increasingly like an idiot, glad that nobody is watching her. She would probably be embarrassed to know that I'm sitting inside typing about her right now. In any case, after the fourth fruitless try, she has just decided to give up and go back indoors, when it begins to dawn on her that the air around her is giving off a faint but unmistakable, and oddly familiar-looking, glow. Hey, that's something!
Meanwhile, Chantar and Tolodor totally fail to start a conversation. Kleiner, still sitting on the floor, has fallen asleep.
Making New Friends
Falkner decides to be stubbornly shy around these obviously friendly and harmless newcomers, but, as he's backing away, Rakasas takes his own initiative, picking Lucas up again and carrying him down the street in the direction of what seems to be a gap in the storm-clouds above, which is exactly the way the trustworthy, totally above-board group came from. Falkner, not wanting to be left behind, sort of sidesteps cautiously into the troll's wake, and, as the pair (well, three, but Lucas hardly counts) close in, they see the others more clearly — finding them to be quite the mismatched group. One stands out as much larger than the rest, clearly a giant, or, to use the politically correct term, biggun; next to him, exaggerating the contrast, stands a rough-looking halfling; and flanking them are three elves of different varieties, a dark elf on the left (that is, their right) and a high elf and wood elf on the right (their left). Standing dumbly, they don't respond to your approach, except that the wood elf turns to watch.
With a shiver, all three finally realise that the skin of the five inert onlookers seems to be crawling with... something. Something alive, and somehow, even at this distance, something obviously visibly wrong.
But Wait, What Happened to the Wolf?
Anweytt decides to exhibit caution and sneak carefully around to examine the source of the sound. It seems that Anweytt's hearing is perhaps not the sharpest, and his sight not the keenest, but after getting closer than might have been completely wise he is finally able to resolve the shape of a large, oddly misshapen wolf, now breathing heavily but no longer moaning. The wolf is glaring directly at him.
Ernor was until very recently lying half-dead and barely-conscious in a small zone of displaced space-time left behind when the spatial warp created by bridging his dream with the shadow's (thus indirectly connected to the corn dimension) catastrophically collapsed. While everyone else in that warp was thrown along in the same direction as the corn dimension's contents, Ernor was almost dragged back to the forest side of the link by a very large, very angry squirrel, but, luckily, and not at all a deus ex machina, the force of that link breaking tore him from the squirrel's grip and left him in a little pocket dimension. Still, he's in pretty rough shape – but not so rough that he can't easily detect the bumbling, twig-snapping approach of a wood elf who turned out to be less stealthy than expected. So he sets his shoulders, stifles his pain, and glares menacingly at the intruder, ready to fight for his life.
Author
Topic: Cataclysm (Read 9306 times)