http://www.tenebraemush.net/api.php?hidebots=1&urlversion=1&days=7&limit=50&action=feedrecentchanges&feedformat=atomTenebrae - Recent changes [en]2024-03-28T09:07:29ZTrack the most recent changes to the wiki in this feed.MediaWiki 1.37.1http://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Aspiring_Aspire-ations,_Pt2&diff=43110&oldid=43109Aspiring Aspire-ations, Pt22024-03-28T04:45:54Z<p>Added log header</p>
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</table>Fidgethttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Aspiring_Aspire-ations,_Pt2&diff=43109&oldid=0Aspiring Aspire-ations, Pt22024-03-28T04:44:51Z<p>New log Aspiring Aspire-ations, Pt2</p>
<p><b>New page</b></p><div>"These woods belong to us," says Vae, "They are an ancestral homeland, stolen from us by the wars of demons. We will not burn them. Besides, who's to say burning them won't release the fel power locked within them?" <br />
HE kneels down for a moment, now that the opal is contained, and lets out a breath. <br />
"Let us see if we can track a source of these things, yes?"|<br />
<br />
"And yet here we are trying to fix it." Eztli shrugs, taking a moment to tap one foot against the ground. "I'm joking mostly, I've put too much time in this to just burn it all down, but I really still have no clue if the spires are doing anything. If all they do is look pretty, then I'll force the corruption out of this place ourselves if I have to."<br />
<br />
Faranmidahn idly considers, for neither the first nor last time, about being tied as a people to a specific region.<br />
The albino cavalier purses her lips subtly, then, "I'd rather not do something so extreme if we could avoid it." Not an ambition, but, nontheless the option remains on the table, somewhere.<br />
"I can try to examine the mystical emminations, though the wood itself may overpower the traces of the opals."<br />
<br />
Irshya rubs at her cheek, a pout forming on her face. "Sometimes a bit fire helps cleanse the evil away. As for fire releasing the power in them, that would be something we should check on. I mean, the woods have burned here and there over the years, have they not? A nice, controlled experiment." Goblins adn the potential for fire.<br />
The pool-shark shrugs, "But sure, we can do some looking around. I am not a hunter or scout, however, but I can probably tell is something is uh not natural."<br />
<br />
Aelwyn puts his hand on his hip and looks at Eztli with small amount of look of someone who just got betrayed. 'Just joking'? The draconian was completely serious about burning this place down. Letting out a long low rumbling sigh, he tilts his head and gestures at Vae then. "The source, as far as this one can tell, was that it simply dropped off from the sky like a droplet of rain. Other footprints are far away from it."<br />
<br />
"Well, if you ever change your mind..." Fidget offers, snapping her fingers to let a little magical flame flicker above her thumb in a clear thumbs-up to arson.<br />
"Perhaps before we get to solving the problem with fire, always a good solution, we can figure out what this weird rock is?" The goblin makes a quick couple of magical gestures and her eyes glow faintly as she peers at the bag in which the rock is, supposedly, safely contained.<br />
<br />
GAME: Fidget casts Identify. Caster Level: 8 DC: 18<br />
GAME: Fidget rolls spellcraft+10+2: (2)+20+10+2: 34<br />
GAME: Irshya rolls survival: (15)+8: 23<br />
GAME: Irshya rolls perception: (7)+13: 20<br />
<br />
"Strange magic in that. Like it doesn't work the way magic is supposed to. Kinda awesome! I want one. But not in, like, a compulsion kinda way. In a Fidget-y kinda way. Actually reminds me of something else I found a while back, some Magicite that was also acting oddly - still working on that one. Hope it doesn't explode in a way that's unplanned." Fidget muses, "It's kind of hard to gauge much of it because it's so weird. It's probably powerful. And it's compulsion-y, like the Warden guy said. You up to carrying it? Want a little mental reinforcement in case it tries to make you touch it? Or eat it?" Fidget asks the stuffy elf (redundant I know).<br />
<br />
"...I'll gladly take any protections you can offer to be on the safe side. I do not want to become possessed by a demonic force," remarks Vae. <br />
<br />
He scratches his chin.<br />
<br />
GAME: Fidget casts Owl's Wisdom. Caster Level: 8 DC: 19<br />
<OOC> Fidget wisdoms up this Elf boi.<br />
<br />
"Demonic forces may only be one side of it." Faran muses, "Though if the forces involved are too dangerous, it may be moot no matter the finer details."<br />
She watches the others do their willwork through the weaves before turning her own attention out into their surroundings, hoping to spot potential trouble before it pounces.<br />
<br />
The Goblin looks around, rubbing at her chin, and HMMMing quite a bit. "So, again... I am no expert but..."<br />
She stares at Vae, "There are absolutely no tracks. At all. There's be uh, hmm, I am guessing that it's the wind. Perhaps what Aelwyn is saying is not just possible, but probable. They're rolling out of somewhere, and blowing here in the wind?<br />
<br />
Vae looks at Faran, then Irshya after a nod of thanks towards Fidget. <br />
...and then he sighs. <br />
"I really hate that you said that."<br />
<br />
"Wind with conveniently no tracks around its landing spot?" Aelwyn asks, but then he rolls his shoulders. "This one supposes." He concedes and picks up his glaive. He wasn't a tracker per say, so it was hard for him to contribute more than glaring at Vae.<br />
The elf's words though make him pause. "Hate which words?" The draconian asks.<br />
<br />
"Hmm? Yeah, I suppose it is pretty weird, for certain." Eztli agrees after a pause of looking off into the distance. "I'm no scholar, but that magic is acting weird. Wonder if there's some ancient dragon out their I could pick the brain of, not as an excuse to force them into a dance recital mind you even if I wouldn't mind that either." <br />
"I guess what I'm saying is that I'd like to know if this is a major discovery in the theory of magic or if people know that magic changes really, really slowly. Might get to tick off some wizards who claim to invent something too when it was really the rules of magic changing as a bonus, but that's neither here nor there." They continue musing.<br />
<br />
Irshya peers at the man, her head canted to one side. Her little holy symbol flashes once, and she grins broadly, showing off a gap in her shark-toothed smile. "People really shouldn't hire adventurers to find answers to the questions they know the answers to, but don't want to hear." Her arms cross. "Are you sure there's something you aren't telling us?"<br />
The Gobbo peers at Faran for a moment, nodding. "That's a solid point."<br />
<br />
"In other climes, we've encountered demons and dragons attacking from within shards of... other places. Splintered portals, or... fragments of disjointed time and space." Faran notes with a wan little smile toward the elf, "Severed time is common in some of the lands scarred during the demon wars."<br />
With Irshya's praise, she smiles warmly with a bow of her head.<br />
Hmmm, she considers Eztli's remarks for a breah or two, then notes, "Magic is in my blood, if the rules are really changing, I'd expect that I'd... feel it, somehow." There is a little shrug, mostly subsumed by her armour, then, "But I don't have... expansive schooling in the greater mysteries, I must admit."<br />
<br />
"So, now we've got this one - is the plan to take it back somewhere for research, or to look for more, or something else? Because so far, so easy. It's in a bag, none of us are mind-controlled, we can head back." Fidget says with a shrug. "I could try to find some more of them. Not sure if I can Locate," the way Fidget pronounces that word you're sure it's got a capital L, "'one of those but not that one'. Probably? Magic's always been weird. Even if you do have expansive-slash-nearly-finished-schooling in the magic arts and read a bunch of dusty books."<br />
<br />
Aelwyn turns to look at Eztli in confusion - for a moment, before he flashes his teeth at her. "This one hopes one is not here to look for a dancer in these woods," He teases with a whip of his tail. "Though this one would not mind running into one either." For the Dragoon's own purposes, but of course. "Yet this one wonders if Felwood is the best talent hunting ground."<br />
Then the Dragoon tilts his head questioningly. "The problem with magic again?" He clicks his teeth. "Is that what this is? The trouble with the ley lines?"<br />
<br />
"No!, no, not a dragon in the felwood, even if that would still be cool if they aren't some demon possessed hellspawn, or something like that." Eztli considers. "Found a dancer in the woods named Aelwyn, so that's covered, and now isn't the time. We should be figuring out, how should we keep looking for more of these stones, or how they got here?" <br />
"Yeah, magic in the blood, I get it. I guess I mean, magic isn't changed, it's acting weird in places, but this is so far back that it was never abnormal even when Rune was establishing the modern theories of magic."<br />
<br />
"That's right," is what Faran is told by Vae, nodding his head. <br />
"Severed time. A good way to put it, companion." Seems he's not incapable of giving praise either. Then he considere a moment. Then Irhsya is speaking to him again, "It's clear there's a deliberate intelligence delivering these, else it would not have landed in such a place as to be found by patrols. This means a few things, potentially, but we can't confirm any of them as of yet. I *don't* know the answers to the questions we're trying to find out and I've shared what I know." He makes a 'pfeh' sound about Rune. <br />
"So carried on the wind. You know, the first of these things were found in an elemental."<br />
<br />
"I think we can all say that, for now the greater mysteries remain mysteries. For now, being the key point." The pool-shark winks at the Lucht, and grins again.<br />
She glances to Fidget. "We're trying to discern how they are coming to be here. I don't know if the answer we seek is in these woods, or from further afield." Irshya shrugs. "Uh huh. Elementals, air elementals." More shrugs.<br />
<br />
GAME: Fidget rolls knowledge/arcana: (18)+18: 36<br />
GAME: Fidget rolls appraise: (17)+15: 32<br />
GAME: Irshya rolls knowledge/arcana: (2)+14: 16<br />
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls knowledge/arcana: (5)+11: 16<br />
<br />
"Hmm..." Fidget ponders, trying to put together some of these clues - "it might be that magic isn't changing in a new way, but that it's continuing to change in the way it always has, like a cycle. This might not be new magic, but old magic that once worked and then didn't for a long time. The last time there was a shift big enough to for people to study it was when the desolation happened. But... I don't know, it's pretty small right now - maybe this happens all the time on the small scale? It's probably fine." Fidget grins and adds, "Oh, also I was thinking that when opals are that shiny, that raw - it means they were broken or cut from the stone recently-ish. They've not been exposed to the elements for long. So wherever they're coming from is probably in the forest somewhere. Also, it's worth a small fortune. So maybe if we figure out how to de-evil it, we split it?"<br />
<br />
Aelwyn flashes his teeth at Eztli. "This one thought there is always a time for a dance." The draconian flicks his tail, and then moves onto lean against his glaive as the others go on and talk about their magic business. He mostly spent his time observing Vae - there was still something odd about this whole setup, he thought.<br />
The notion of selling the opal makes him squint his face though, in that very makari way. Like he got booped. "Let us not consider such. This one also feels we are not getting any closer to the mystery by standing here." He glances up towards the forest. "Is there a direction to head towards, or shall we return to the camp?"<br />
<br />
"I would much rather have a clear conscience than a fat coin purse, if I'm being perfectly honest. As nice as that sounds, I don't want to put my de-demonizing gemstone skills to a test that risks someone being controlled by outside entities if it's not done perfectly." Eztli sighs. "There's been too much going on of late to make me say things are just fine. But hey, that's some good information, we should keep looking, no? Bright side of all this fog is it'll be easier to see disturbances from elementals, and if they're fresh stones, maybe the source is close?"<br />
<br />
There is a quiet, nostalgicc little nod at mention of the Desolation from the Knight of Spiders, for lessons learned, and prices paid. Things percolate in her head for some moments, then, "It could be stirred up with what happened with Animus."<br />
Faran idly pets her dear Torrent, then resumes sweeping her eyes about for signs of trouble, parsing within her thoughts a prayer to the Hunter to guide them in their course, "That sounds reasonable to me." she replies, glancing to the Makari.<br />
<br />
Vae considers for a moment. <br />
"The last time a wizard tried to break the enchantment within one of those opals, it possessed them and the opal disintegrated. Not a good thing! But it did happen. No, if we can not find anything, we should return back to the camp before it gets any later but --" <br />
The wind starts to pick up. <br />
Vae hesitates.<br />
<br />
GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (9)+1: 10<br />
GAME: Fidget rolls perception: (9)+11: 20<br />
GAME: Irshya rolls perception: (2)+13: 15<br />
GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (11)+5: 16<br />
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AAAAAHHHH-CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" The Goblin's sneeze echoes through the nearby woods. Giving her head a shake, she looks almost apologetic. "'scuse me." Rubbing at her nose, she peers at the Elf. Sniffing delicately, and then tasting at the air with her mouth... "You can almost chew the air sometimes. Uhm.. so new theory. The air itself is tainted. The gems are made... like hail. Grit, floating up and down in the ... taint, slowly getting bigger and bigger until it's too heavy to stay afloat and then ... EVIL PLOPPING SOUND!"<br />
Irshya gestures randomly at a spot on the ground.<br />
<br />
Aelwyn picks up his glaive and then starts to get closer, when Vae speaks those words. "What is it?" He asks, now all down to business. "Is something arriving?" He whips his head around - and gets startled when Irshya sneezes so loud. "... tch, be careful." The draconian chides. "This one could nearly stab one." And then he flashes his teeth. "And who would then take over TarRaCe?"<br />
At the words, Aelwyn just tilts his head, but beyond that, moves to guard the group.<br />
<br />
"Well, if I didn't feel glad I didn't touch the rock before, now it's an evil sky birdpoop. But... I dunno, is it getting worse? I think we should be on guard for something to happen. Especially you, bag guy!" Fidget says and points at the elf, whose name she may not have been paying attention to, she was probably fascinated by a shiny rock or something. "I can try to search for another one of the gemstones in a moment...". The gobbo roots around in her pockets for spell components.<br />
<br />
"Tainted air? Of course it is, or, I really hope that isn't the case. I don't want everyone here getting possessed because they've been here too long." Eztli grumbles out loud. "So, that's it? We can't do anything about it without clearing out the area itself? Air is pretty well, broad, I suppose, burning this place down is sounding better by the minute, if those towers are going to keep staying hidden." <br />
"And, I think that's our que to get out of here, right?" Eztli offers, taking a look back down the path.<br />
<br />
[[Category:Staff Event]]</div>Fidgethttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Recent_Logs&diff=43108&oldid=43106Recent Logs2024-03-28T04:44:22Z<p><span dir="auto"><span class="autocomment">March</span></span></p>
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</table>Fidgethttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=A_Golden_Ending_(Part_2)&diff=43107&oldid=0A Golden Ending (Part 2)2024-03-26T03:28:37Z<p>Created page with "<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"> ==Log Info== *Title: A Golden Ending (Part 2) *GMs: Rune/Riptide *Characters: <a href="/index.php?title=Aelwyn&action=edit&redlink=1" class="new" title="Aelwyn (page does not exist)">Aelwyn</a>, <a href="/index.php/Harkashan" title="Harkashan">Harkashan</a>, <a href="/index.php/Ravenstongue" title="Ravenstongue">Ravenstongue</a>, <a href="/index.php/Leirune" title="Leirune">Rune</a>, <a href="/index.php/Slixvah" title="Slixvah">Slixvah</a>, <a href="/index.php/Telamon" title="Telamon">Telamon</a> *Place: The Shattered Place - Border Ethereal</div> ''Last we left our Adventurers...'' They had found themselves upon an arid landscape, surrounded by hard-packed earth and a sunless blue sky. In the distance, mountains loomed at the edges of the h..."</p>
<a href="http://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=A_Golden_Ending_(Part_2)&diff=43107">Show changes</a>Riptidehttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Recent_Logs&diff=43106&oldid=43104Recent Logs2024-03-26T03:26:23Z<p><span dir="auto"><span class="autocomment">March</span></span></p>
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</table>Riptidehttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Behold_the_Unloved_King_(Part_8)&diff=43105&oldid=0Behold the Unloved King (Part 8)2024-03-25T03:43:48Z<p>Created page with "<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"> ==Log Info== *Title: Behold the Unloved King (Part 8) *GM: Whirlpool *Characters: <a href="/index.php/Aryia" title="Aryia">Aryia</a>, <a href="/index.php/Harkashan" title="Harkashan">Harkashan</a>, <a href="/index.php/Seldan" title="Seldan">Seldan</a>, <a href="/index.php/Telamon" title="Telamon">Telamon</a>, <a href="/index.php/Verna" title="Verna">Verna</a> *Place: The Unloved King's Palace, Quelynos / The Desolation</div> The tremoring ceases as you step outside. Where once rain and overcast grey clouds were the dominating feature, now the sun and blue sky. There's even a rainbow. And birds. Birds are chirping. But the U..."</p>
<p><b>New page</b></p><div><div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"><br />
<br />
==Log Info==<br />
<br />
*Title: Behold the Unloved King (Part 8)<br />
<br />
*GM: Whirlpool<br />
<br />
*Characters: [[Aryia]], [[Harkashan]], [[Seldan]], [[Telamon]], [[Verna]]<br />
<br />
*Place: The Unloved King's Palace, Quelynos / The Desolation</div><br />
<br />
The tremoring ceases as you step outside. Where once rain and overcast grey clouds were the dominating feature, now the sun and blue sky. There's even a rainbow. <br />
<br />
And birds. Birds are chirping. <br />
<br />
But the Unloved King, upon stepping from the doorway. The sunlight hits his face and he looks satisfied, eyes turned towards the sky. <br />
<br />
"Ah, a sky so blue. Ne'er did I think I would see the day the clouds parted for one such as me -- but for no man can rain forever fall." <br />
<br />
His terrible gaze turns back upon you, and his great frame towers over you. He is legend, and the legend is he. <br />
<br />
"Depart this realm, return to the story from which you came and write your new destinies, 'for now I can not see your fate. What terrors awaited you await you no more. New shadows 'ere I see in the corners of your eyes. Do not grieve for what has never been, and break fate's chains."<br />
<br />
Telamon has always had a preference for the night sky, but this? This is perfectly acceptable to him. Wonderful, even. His hand in Lana's, as the sun shines down on this place. A new beginning for the King, who in time will shed his sad sobriquet of 'Unloved'. Nothing good gets done easily -- but it's a start, and one step can lead to another.<br />
<br />
"It has been an honor, Your Majesty, to help you begin a new chapter in whatever small way we could. There's work to be done, always, but above all else, knowing we have sparked new hope in a soul -- that is a reward greater than any other." He looks to the others. "And unless we have some other pressing business, I believe we have an appointment to keep, friends."<br />
<br />
Seldan steps outside, running a hand through military-short, drenched hair and brushing away the rivulets of water from his hand. He stares up at the now-blue sky, and lets out a long, slow breath. "It is given to none of us to decide our fate, but it is given to each of us to decide how we will meet it. In such decisions are tales made, and rewritten. As my companion has said, it has been an honor to be of aid to you." <br />
<br />
He lets out another breath, and turns to the others. "It is as the Archmage says. Come, we must away, and complete that which we began."<br />
<br />
To say that the visit had been a memorable and strange experience would be underselling the stature and presence of the Unloved King. <br />
<br />
Yet Harkashan has remained quiet for the time being. Observing, rather than interfering. And at the word of traveling back once more, he moves into position with the others.<br />
<br />
Aryia steps outside after pushing in her chair, a slow sigh of relief escaping her despite the beads of sweat dotting her face. She cranes her neck up, a faint smile cresting her face. Nodding in approval, she turns to end up meeting eyes with the terrible gaze.<br />
<br />
A shudder goes through her. What was that about not knowing their fates? She rubs her neck briefly before giving a bow from the waist.<br />
<br />
Thankfully her friends were here for this, that could have gone so much worse.<br />
<br />
Cor'lana has, at times, found herself spitting in the face of the servants of dark gods and staring down the sneering face of Caracoroth. But right now, she's staring at the terrible gaze of the Unloved King, at the tower that he is, the tower that is he.<br />
<br />
She's smiling. At times, she's been told her smile is like sunshine itself.<br />
<br />
"I hope for you, o solitary king, that you know now that the sky is capable of sunlight," she says gently. "For ''you'', there is sunlight. Eli, the highest of lights, shines on all."<br />
<br />
Cor'lana squeezes Telamon's hand gently, smiling at him before she looks at Seldan. Her smile turns into that expression that's the most horrifying thing. A grin on a faetouched woman. "I don't know," she says. "Once, a long time ago, I read a story as a child. A little girl who got lost here in Quelynos, and to find her way home, she needed to shout that which was hers at the heart of the world itself: 'love'. A word that, in some tongues, sounds similar to 'I'."<br />
<br />
She squeezes Telamon's hand again. "She should have been lost forever, but for love, the world, I have found, will move mountains. With that aside... If everyone's ready, I'll get us along our way?"<br />
<br />
Verna steps out with the others, both curious and supportive of this intent to change by the King. The alteration of scenery is conspicuous, yet not completely unsurprising given the situation. "Intriguing."<br />
<br />
<hr><br />
<br />
A brief stop in Grandfather's Forest with the aid of magic after walking along the branches, sub-branches, or ''something'' connected to the World Tree, you are soon back where you started: the wind-swept, dust choked plains of the Desolation. Lightning crackles above. Rain pours. <br />
<br />
You're home, all right.<br />
<br />
Returning to Ea is almost unpleasant after the success enjoyed and the brief return to Grandfather's Forest. But their task isn't done. And so Lana successfully deposits the party back in the Desolation, just in time for a storm to roll it. Telamon sputters, slammed suddenly by the wall of rain, and opens his haversack to pull out an oilcloth rain-cloak.<br />
<br />
"If I didn't know better, I'd say someone wasn't happy with us mucking around and setting things right. Or at least they're throwing a tantrum about it."<br />
<br />
Aaaaaand - they had only just dried off, and now are again drenched to the bone, or will be shortly. Seldan lets out a long, slow breath as they reappear in the storm-swept Desolation, a sound that is almost a sigh, and entirely drowned out by thunder. <br />
<br />
"The rain will, at the least, control the dust," he murmurs to himself encouragingly. "Let us be off, for soonest begun is soonest done." <br />
<br />
With that, he pulls the hood of his own gray traveler's cloak over his head. Its benefit is not absolute in weather like this, but he pulls it around him. "Be there an enemy, or but a spoiled child, let them show themselves," he answers Telamon dismissively. "Like as not, they who put that force in place may not be pleased that it has - hopefully - been undone, but would they make aught of it, let them show themselves."<br />
<br />
From dry to wet in under 5 seconds. Harkashan has a rather neutral expression on his face in regards to the sudden weather shift. "Let us hope that isn't it. Because that would suggest someone is aware of our presence." He offers to Telamon, as he adjusts his posture upwards to capture some of the rain and gets near him while he takes out the rain-clock, serving as a tall Sith-makari Umbrella for him for the time being. So that he doesn't end up having to put on something that's already half-soaked by the time it covers him.<br />
<br />
"What do we do next?" Harkashan then inquires.<br />
<br />
"It could be an ill omen," Verna admits to Telamon upon their rapidly-soddened return to The Desolation. "It may be equally likely that this is nothing more than seasonal weather." Her cloak and hood protect her from the worst of it, at the least. "Not to claim that it is pleasant."<br />
<br />
Her hood and attention pan to Cor'lana, The King, and the others at Harkashan's inquiry. "That is a most pertinent question. While I wholly support one's pursuit of their best self, that does not preclude consequences for said actions." Yet she remains unconvinced that the weather is one such consequence. For the moment.<br />
<br />
Aryia goes to a knee as they get back to the material realm. Even with the dust choking winds, she plants a hand onto the wet ground, glad she was back on Ea-firma. Even with all the niceities of the fey realm, it was one place she really didn't like to be in.<br />
<br />
She coughs out dust, getting a cloth back around her face. Her shoulders rise briefly. "If they are, then please do it now, subterfuge and reading between the lines is getting a bit fatiguing at present."<br />
<br />
She rises. "To the tomb, then?" drenched hands flick about. <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Cor'lana's faetouched grin dampens rather quickly to... mortalbound frown. Rain's not a welcoming thing on the heels of having set a man free from his forever-depression, but life is not always fair nor kind.<br />
<br />
"I rather agree with Seldan and Aryia both." She goes fishing for her earplugs again. "It might be best to... Treat things as though they are as they were? Until otherwise proven. The worst thing would be to be caught off guard."<br />
<br />
"Rain," tuts the Unloved King. Wait, he ''is'' here, isn't he? Did he just come along? Why yes, of course he did. He was invited. <br />
<br />
Still big as legend. <br />
<br />
The rain abruptly ends. The clouds part. The sun shines down on him. He wipes away a tear. <br />
<br />
"Ah, such beauty in your mortal realms! Such tranquility," he says, as the wind howls around him, "but why does this wind yet scream of a pain ne'erending? A gaping wound upon the flesh of your world, like a thousand voices crying out." <br />
<br />
...he smiles, then says, "My mirror is not far, I can sense it -- a weapon I was made to be, an infinite jest."<br />
<br />
GAME: Telamon rolls Will: (3)+23: 26<br />
<br />
Telamon actually jumps when the Unloved King speaks behind them. He's learned to expect a lot of things, but he did not expect the Unloved King to ''follow them back''. He clenches his jaw, and forces his hands to open again. Taking a deep breath, he says loudly enough to be heard over the wind, "Mortals are prone to folly, Your Majesty, although from what I have been told the Everstorm is where the ancient city of Kulthus once existed, and is now fallen."<br />
<br />
He pushes back his hood as the sun comes back again, and he turns to nod at the Unloved King politely. "The echo is not far, yes. Along with the remnant of the celestial, and the weapon used to mute the echo itself." He pauses. "And the remains of two souls who opted to stay, and accept their end there rather than release the echo out into the world."<br />
<br />
Harkashan's tail lashes at the ground at the voice that suddenly speaks. He should have noticed it by the shadow that is cast, even beneath such massive clouds. Turning back to look at the enormous thing, then looking down at the tomb, he considers it's going to be pretty hard for the man to follow them down there. After all, that place is hard to squeeze through even for people his size.<br />
<br />
"Such had I intended," Seldan nods his agreement in Cor'lana's direction. "And I, at the least, know not if rain be normal for this place, or nay." With this, he looks hopefully at Verna. "Still, it is well, do we seek out the tomb again, and go even as before." <br />
<br />
When the Unloved King speaks, he looks up at the great figure. "This wound be an infinite nightmare," he counters, evenly and soberly. "Ware you, for the rewriting of your story but permits it to begin the healing. It is not done, and even still does it threaten. Ours will it be to turn back that weapon, ere it tears apart the fabric of time." <br />
<br />
He turns to face the direction of the tomb. "Getting down there was not easy, Your Majesty," he points out. "Have you a smaller form?"<br />
<br />
Aryia flinches as she has half an earplug in thus far, completely not expecting the King to have tagged along. And now its not longer raining. Sun is shining. She bobs her head in appreciation. "I agree. It's not done just yet."<br />
<br />
Seeing as the others speak of his Majesty not fitting into the previous incursion she punched out, the mute makes a wide circle with her arms. Then makes it larger. And large.<br />
<br />
She can always break a bigger hole. <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Cor'lana considers the logistics of the Unloved King. Phenomenal melancholic power... Itty-bitty living space? She rubs her chin in thought while she soothes Telamon from his jump with a gentle rub of her hand against his arm. "If His Majesty cannot change his shape... Perhaps I might be able to help?"<br />
<br />
She smiles at the Unloved King. "I promise not to present you with a form that will make you any less worthy--for you are as yourself."<br />
<br />
Obviously, the break in the weather is an act of intent and will. Verna has no misconceptions of this. She looks between The King, others, and then to Aryia's widening arms, and back. "I am less concerned on the creation of a larger opening and moreso of what action we shall take within. We do not wish it to tear apart the fabric of time, as his majesty noted. Nor can we allow this ... threat to escape, as was previously agreed."<br />
<br />
"Hm. A land without a King..." <br />
<br />
Oh boy. Someone distract him. Thankfully, Cor'lana is already on it. "Ah! Yes! Let us see..!" <br />
<br />
But digging out again is going to take some time, and hopefully, the celestial's words of warning about changing the nature of the tie of the fey-bound King and the reality of the weapon are accurate.<br />
<br />
Telamon hurriedly screws his earplugs into his ears, because the last thing he needs is to reach the end of this quest and then get his brains melted by that blasted song. "Your Majesty, we will need to protect ourselves from the weapon in question. Hence the stopping of our ears." He checks his ring, to make sure the stone-shaping spell is still in place. Telamon signs to Aryia, "Crack it back open. I'm hoping His Majesty's presence here is already disrupting the song, but let's not take any chances."<br />
<br />
Aryia looks a bit worried as she just barely catches the bit that the Unloved King ponders, but soon her hearing goes to nil as plugs slot in. Spying Telamon's signs, she gives a sharp nod, a happy smile cresting her lips. Exercise! Finally!<br />
<br />
She cracks her knuckles and gets to work undoing the work they undid earlier.<br />
<br />
"Even so," Seldan nods immediate agreement with Verna, and draws a deep breath, then releases it, and prepares to put his own earplugs back in, stepping aside so that Aryia can get to work. <br />
<br />
Earplugs are in place and bound to keep them secure, Reunion remains safely in the bag, and Seldan turns to the others while Aryia works. "If we want to counter the story that is a weapon, we should prepare to tell another one. One of union. Respect. Happiness. Companionship."<br />
<br />
Cor'lana plays keep-occupied with the Unloved King. "I have it," she says. "A spell to make you about our size. Although probably close to Telamon and Seldan than myself or Aryia." She laughs. It's almost a nervous laugh. She is, after all, about to cast magic on a fae monarch/weapon.<br />
<br />
She then seems to realize the gravity of ''what'' she is doing, because she murmurs, "If only you could watch me now, Mother." She takes a breath. She summons up her courage. And Cor'lana... polymorphs the Unloved King.<br />
<br />
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Polymorph Any Object. Caster Level: 19 DC: 27<br />
<br />
Verna ensures that her own ears are plugged as Aryia begins to re-open the re-closed tomb. At Seldan's note, she gestures to, well, most everyone else. "I will defer the writing and/or telling to those far more eloquent with tales. Personally, I would be most content with a story as concise as 'All of existence otherwise remained as it was, and all lived happily ever after.'"<br />
<br />
The Unloved King is looking rather pleased with his new size. He was towering, sure, but now he's more modeset. a Modestly Unloved King. <br />
<br />
He follows you as you breach the tunnnel. Follows you as you pass the skeletons. Follows you as you reach the entrway to the Angel's domain. You can feel the rhythym of the song that never ended in this place. The Unloved King looks ... uncomfortable. <br />
<br />
It is not the same, howeverf. There isn't that ... omnipresent sensation of dread, of power pulling at you. The shades who tried to draw you into dance seem to be no more, or perhaps merely scared away.<br />
<br />
The air of the place is definitely different now. Telamon can feel it. Even blindfolded, he follows the path, warmly squeezing his wife's hand again as he perceives... the curious lack of shades, and the terrible dread having fallen into abeyance. He tilts his head slightly, and says aloud, "It's different this time. Not quite as ominous." Still, he shivers. Almost to the end now. Just a few more miles down the road.<br />
<br />
Harkashan's senses are not as powerful as some others, but even he can sense a similar thing to what Telamon has discovered so far. Blindfolded, he moves through, trying to rely on his memory of this place to proceed forward.<br />
<br />
Again, Seldan will have taken the lead, as he did before. Again, he established the same protocol using tugs on the rope before blinding himself and venturing into the whirlwind. Before he did, though, he had turned to Harkashan and Verna. "Are you prepared to speak with the celestial, as before?" He had waited for answer before venturing in. He, too, had felt the difference, but used the dagger as before to contact the wall, finding his path in such a way. Deafened and blinded, he can neither hear nor see the others, but he pauses at what he hopes is about the same point, and tugs twice on the rope.<br />
<br />
Aryia descends into the depths, takes the fore with Seldan once more. Squeezes past the tunnels. The skeletons (quiet moment of silence afforded for them) are moved past. Back into the large entryway once more, where sight needed to taken as well, back to holding on to her friends for guidance. But she found herself not clenching her jaw like before. It didn't feel like it was gnawing at her, trying to worm its way into her skull. Just simply there.<br />
<br />
But still, she stops short just as that rope is pulled twice, just like before.<br />
<br />
Cor'lana keeps close to Telamon. Her steps carry her hopes, and her hopes are that the Unloved King they have brought with them will uplift the Unloved King that exists here. Hope is the thing that has carried her this far...<br />
<br />
"Vaire, Ni'essa, preserve us and keep us," she murmurs in reverence. Unable to hear herself, but she prays anyway.<br />
<br />
Hope and faith are rather linked, after all.<br />
<br />
Verna affirmed that she was prepared to speak to the celestial remnant, in as much as they communicated with it, before. This time, she expects that the King's presence shall hold more direct impact than any words she might impart, however. The lack of tempting ... things is noted, and makes the presumption that this is due to said King's presence and not simply improved sound- and light-proofing themselves. Upon the signal upon the rope, she also halts.<br />
<br />
GAME: Verna casts Speak With Dead. Caster Level: 19 DC: 20<br />
<br />
Again, you find yourself once more able to 'see'. The eye is watching you. It stares unblinkingly in your direction. <br />
<br />
It awaits your questions, now. <br />
<br />
It does, however, seem less ... guarded.<br />
<br />
This is just as disturbing as last time, and the only way Telamon can approach this with any kind of calm is to seek refuge in the absurd. At least inwardly. In the meantime, he tilts his head towards the Unloved King. "Your Majesty," he says quietly, "Do you have any thoughts you'd like to share, as we inquire to this angelic spark? Whatever decisions are made here, you are going to be a part of them." Unloved he may be, but Telamon is clearly inclined to solicit his words -- for this may affect him too.<br />
<br />
Once Verna can 'see' the celestial again, she establishes a new channel of communication in the same manner that it was done previously. Her articulation is slow and measured to ensure the highest chance of success.<br />
<br />
Once Seldan can "see" the celestial, his head lowers, although none can see it. ''We must mend the crack in time,'' he thinks to himself, without intentionally "voicing" the thoughts aloud. ''Perhaps by rewriting the story?'' <br />
<br />
Only then does he "speak", thinking the words in a more conscious fashion. "I would hear the tale of the two by the entrance to this place. Know you their names, and their deeds? For it is now ours to write the tale that shall be, the tale that must replace the one that destroys."<br />
<br />
Aryia once again is in that same space as before. The blazing eye watching upon them, thoughts heard and shared between all. "Oh thank f-...," the soft and measured voice dies off before there's a cough.<br />
<br />
The silverguard brings his question and idea to bear. The skeletons, right! "Incorporating them is good idea," she opines.<br />
<br />
Cor'lana takes a soft breath as the bond is established. It's a little breath. The kind that she's almost aware is a privilege that the skeletons now do not have.<br />
<br />
"They deserve to be remembered," she says. "Just as the Unloved King deserves to be loved." Those are her simple words, her little opinion, yet they burn a little bright flame in her chest.<br />
<br />
The presence of the Unloved King suffuses the mental link, but Telamon can perceive his friends, and the angelic remnant. He nods mentally to the thought of giving those two lost souls a part in this new story -- after all, they had the courage and gumption to remain behind, to lock away the terrible echo. "Let them be remembered," he agrees. "Perhaps somehow, someway, they can learn that their sacrifice was not in vain."<br />
<br />
Here, in this place, you can sense the 'presence' of the King as well. <br />
<br />
His mind is ''so'' present. Almost overwhelmingly so, much like the Celestial's might once have been. You can feel the echo of its might in turn more keenly now with the 'volume' of the power of the weapon turned down. <br />
<br />
Ask your questions, it indicates, or at least seems to. It is receptive and ready.<br />
<br />
It does not know the answer to that question, at this time. Seldan's, that is. It seems uncertain -- but one gets the feeling it is more than capable of learning that information when it is restored -- if it is restored.<br />
<br />
The unusual ''presence'' is enough to give Seldan pause. Make it hard to think. ''No,'' he firmly disciplines his mind. ''Much have we already accomplished. Now we finish the job.'' Another moment of silence. "What is needed to restore you, and return you to your rightful place, once the tale is rewritten and the song is ended?"<br />
<br />
Aryia stiffens as the presence of the King presses into this mindspace. She just stares at the blazing eye, trying very hard to just focus on only that as the overwhelming sensation akin to someone staring at the back of one's head does all it can to pry her attention away.<br />
<br />
The skeletons are unknowns, lost to time, it seems. But perhaps that can be fixed. Or mended with prose. There are songs and dirges to unknown heroes after all.<br />
<br />
Cor'lana, oddly, pays a bit more attention to the presence of the King within the link compared to the task at hand. Seldan is, after all, busied with the importance of question-asking, but Cor'lana seems to be preparing for the moment that the King might ask a question--and perhaps through everything in flux for it. Her hands are nervous things, fidgeting at her robes.<br />
<br />
Verna knew to expect the celestial's connection to her mind. Academically, their prior experience made that of The King also to be expected... yet it is still a startling and powerful thing all the same. She focuses first on the question of and desires for the honored dead, as that is a 'smaller' and more conceivable thing. This shifts to Seldan's inquiry after it is made, as this is the crux of their purpose here, is it not? Verna reserves any follow-on questions pending the results of that.<br />
<br />
There is a pause. <br />
<br />
A diamond shape forms in the eye of your mind. Chanting sounds. Praise to the Gods. <br />
<br />
But then shadows loom around it. Danger. It seems that restoring it is possible, but not without running the risk of drawing unwanted eyes.<br />
<br />
A direction. Immediately, Seldan's mind-voice firms, the presence of the no-longer-Unloved King behind him backgrounding in the presence of his immediate focus. "Unwanted eyes. Who watches this place, and why? Who placed the weapon?"<br />
<br />
Along with the word ''weapon'', there is an image of the Unloved King, full size, but not mourning or depressed. Instead, firm and strong. His meaning is clear.<br />
<br />
Aryia's familiar with that diamond shape and prayer. She's seen it once before. A glance to Verna and Harkashan is stolen. They had some rather powerful priests in their midst. But the pugilist too draws her attention back as there's mention of potential danger. "Makes sense that all the noise and clouding causes any eyes and ears at all blind and deaf to this place," she points out. "Until, that is, until it is rectified."<br />
<br />
A sense of fire and burning, the smell of brimstone. <br />
<br />
Old enemies aplenty, no doubt.<br />
<br />
Cor'lana stiffens at the idea that there are eyes watching. The potential danger. She murmurs, quietly, another small prayer, as though it alone might ward them.<br />
<br />
Suddenly she wishes for a candle. Something that burns and sheds light, sheds ''warmth'', a sense that is not muted here between blindness and deafness. Something used for prayer.<br />
<br />
''Demons. Hardly news.'' Seldan's mental response to the idea of demons is - surprisingly blasé. Certainly no panic, and even a calm. "What needs to be done to silence the song, once and for all?" ''I'll get back to demons in a minute.''<br />
<br />
"Of course ''they'' would be concerned," Verna's thoughts are clear on this revelation. So, too, is her sense that this danger is perhaps more motivational than dissuasive of such an act, at least in her own opinion. The next question comes easily, though Seldan is quicker to 'voice' it. Yes, what need be done. Removing a threat and restoring a being of light, both, are a very strong victory.<br />
<br />
Harkashan is still chanting in the background, empowering the spell. He too notices the intrusion upon their presence. Something that might observe them in this place. "A magic this great will not be hidden." Harkashan remarks. "Verna will need to lead it, but I can bolster her spell with my own. But we can bring this protector back once more. And this time, it would not stand alone against its enemies if they bared come here." He remarks.<br />
<br />
Oh, well, that makes perfect sense. Aryia rubs at her face. That's a good problem to have, fiends having another celestial issue on their plate. Regardless. The thing would have to be silenced or altered before dealing with what comes next can be pondered.<br />
<br />
The notion of beating down potential enemies that Hark points out does elicit a pleased mental hum from the vocal-mute.<br />
<br />
An image of the hammer raised. A thunder strike. <br />
<br />
The question of the Unloved King's presence does still cause the celestial's spirit to hesitate. It is bound by the limits of the spell that speaks with the dead, with its remains, but is not fully dead itself, after all. Should all be well with the strike of the hammer, one's eyes can be unveiled. Strike the hammer.<br />
<br />
[[Category:Logs]]</div>Riptidehttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Recent_Logs&diff=43104&oldid=43102Recent Logs2024-03-25T02:52:58Z<p><span dir="auto"><span class="autocomment">March</span></span></p>
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</table>Riptidehttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Aspiring_Aspire-ations&diff=43103&oldid=0Aspiring Aspire-ations2024-03-24T07:20:31Z<p>Created page with "<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"> ==Log Info== *Title: Aspiring Aspire-ations *GM: Whirlypool *Characters: <a href="/index.php?title=Aelwyn&action=edit&redlink=1" class="new" title="Aelwyn (page does not exist)">Aelwyn</a>, <a href="/index.php?title=Eztli&action=edit&redlink=1" class="new" title="Eztli (page does not exist)">Eztli</a>, <a href="/index.php/Faranmidahn" title="Faranmidahn">Faranmidahn</a>, <a href="/index.php?title=Irshya&action=edit&redlink=1" class="new" title="Irshya (page does not exist)">Irshya</a> *Place: Felwood *Summary: One more step in resolving the riddle of the Spires. One slightly unsettling elf enlists the help of adventurers to find strange magic gemstones in the woods. What could go wrong? </div> The Felwood Camp is a bustling and busy place. Adventurers working in concert..."</p>
<p><b>New page</b></p><div><div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;"><br />
<br />
==Log Info==<br />
<br />
*Title: Aspiring Aspire-ations<br />
<br />
*GM: Whirlypool<br />
<br />
*Characters: [[Aelwyn]], [[Eztli]], [[Faranmidahn]], [[Irshya]]<br />
*Place: Felwood <br />
<br />
*Summary: One more step in resolving the riddle of the Spires. One slightly unsettling elf enlists the help of adventurers to find strange magic gemstones in the woods. What could go wrong? </div><br />
<br />
The Felwood Camp is a bustling and busy place. Adventurers working in concert with the elves of the Mythwood seeking to maintain and weaken the Felwood further. <br />
<br />
You are one such group, and await the opportunity to speak to one of the elder elves who's going to give you some kind of operation they want you to perform.<br />
<br />
Aelwyn was on a mission. He had a lot on his plate lately - for some reason, the tasks at TarRaCe never seemed to get any easier - but still the Dragoon found time to come back to glare at the woods. The Felwood.<br />
<br />
He shall see those woods burn, one day.<br />
<br />
A pair of glaives was laid down onto the ground and Aelwyn had his hands on his hips as he stared at them, clicking his teeth in displeasure. "Tch, this one would have enjoyed to know what kind of task were to be given this time beforehand."<br />
<br />
Faranmidahn arrives, singing as she steps into the high grasses. Bluebirds sing.<br />
<br />
Faranmidahn has arrived.<br />
<br />
The Goblin limps along, leaning upon her staff as she paces back and forth, waiting on one of the Sil to get around to getting to talk to them. "I am getting tired of waiting too.", the pool-shark grumps.<br />
<br />
She peers at the collection of glaives. "This is good, you won't die for lack of stabbing back."<br />
<br />
A small, mottled makari was in the camp as well, taking a wander near one of the fires. "That's why we're here, big guy, to learn what those folks want us to be doing." The sorceress chuckles, knuckling the dragoon's head. "But I get it, would be real nice to know what we're doing before we probably have to head out immediately and do it. Wonder what elf is in charge here, maybe I know them? Expecting us to go along with no regard for our preparations does have a stuck up noble air to it, so it's a possibility, but elder makes me think it's someone in a more spiritual sense, which is less likely."<br />
<br />
Similarly, a fluffy Lucht in black armour is gently fawning over her dark barded Huntsman spider, a creature that looks like it could comfortably nosh on a prize hog.<br />
<br />
While her helm rests on the saddlehorn, Faran's hair is largely free to play with the breeze.<br />
<br />
Thoughtfully, she brushes her hair back from her face as she turns toward her fellows, "Agreed, though there is little for it, now."<br />
<br />
GAME: Faranmidahn refreshes spells.<br />
<br />
GAME: Irshya refreshes spells.<br />
<br />
GAME: Eztli refreshes spells.<br />
<br />
Soon, you're on the move. <br />
<br />
Why? <br />
<br />
Because one of the Mythwood Wardens walks by you, gestures for you. Indicates that your assembled group, sent here by the Guild of Explorers, is meant to follow him. <br />
<br />
"Come on, now. We don't have much time," he replies in his thickly accented tradespeak. He clearly does not get a lot of use out of it, and he's seemingly not even happy to be here. <br />
<br />
Then again, that just might hbe the 'elf' talking. It can be hard with them. So inscrutable.<br />
<br />
Aelwyn gets knuckled. Knuckled! Tilting his head repeatedly, he flicks his tail and makes a playful face at Eztli. "Tch, one shall become bad influence on this one, one day." He turns his head towards Irshya and then gestures. "One pays to be prepared."<br />
<br />
The stranger with the spider had garnered quite a few looks from him - but then the elf arrives, and the Dragoon bends over to pick up the glaives. "There is more than little to it now, this one hopes." He rumbles, and heads off after the elf, completely ignoring the attitude.<br />
<br />
"Aha, finally!", Irshya says in Goblin-talk. She begins to limp along after the Elf, and offers a wave to Eztli and Faranmidahn.<br />
<br />
"Alright then, lets be about it, yes?", she says to the others.<br />
<br />
Of the Elf ahead, she wonders, "Anything you can tell us about what we're about to get into here?"<br />
<br />
"Some day, but not today." Eztli chuckles, sticking out their tongue in Aelwyn's direction. "Well, guess you got your wish Irshya, we're on the move soon. You need a ride? Did you hurt your leg or something, we could get someone to take a look before we head out. And, is that a giant spider? That's really cool! Nice to meet you, miss!" <br />
<br />
And they're on the way, and the small sorceress sighs. "Yeas, I guess we've gotta get going, probably time sensitive since things are so weird here." She shrugs. "If you could tell us anything before we get there, since time is of the essence, sounds like it would help?"<br />
<br />
With the impetus put forward, Faran climbs up into the saddle and knock-knocks on Torrent's back as the spider's cue to rise. With a tug on the reins and a couple of light kicks to either side, the Knight steers him along to trot after their elven guide. She tucks her helmet under her arm for the time being, rather than slipping it onto her head.<br />
<br />
She smiles back to Irshya, though it fades a smidge as she notes her friend's limp, "Are you alright?"<br />
<br />
There's a blink, and she turns her attention to the others, "Oh, hello, I'm Faranmidahn, it's nice to meet you!"<br />
<br />
"Very," is the elf's response to the various 'it must be urgent' style questions. He tucks his red-streked braid over his shoulder, glancing over at you. <br />
<br />
"Urgent. Be quiet as you can." <br />
<br />
"There is a stone, an opal anmd it is ... unstable. Magically. We have found others like it. Typically containing or emeshed with some corrupt, vile, and magical spirit of some kind. They have been found at the heart of elementals and others. Fel energies are involved. We know not how."<br />
<br />
Aelwyn turns and bows his head towards the spider riding woman. "Aelwyn, a Dragoon." He introduces himself, with a flash of his teeth - and then a bit of a more careful look towards the monstrous ride. "Know each other already, Sharkie?" The draconian asks from Irshya, before rumbling in amusement at Eztli.<br />
<br />
The draconian attempts to stay quiet, but he twists his lips at the mention of the opals and he tilts his head. "Are these the ones that Guild warned us not to touch?" He asks. "This one is familiar with them."<br />
<br />
"I'm sure you can ask her about riding animals in combat on the way to, well wherever we end up, as long as it doesn't interfere with the mission. Well, that's an assumption, would that be alright? Sorry, name's Eztli by the way, nice to meet you!" Eztli muses and greets, before falling silent. "Seems like a lot of weird gems in these woods, a lot near those towers. Sometimes they try to get someone to grab them really badly, sometimes they're more violent on their own accord. I remember spending hours picking rock shards out of my scales one time, those things are bad news. Unless these are different stones, I don't remember them being particularly opalescent?"<br />
<br />
The Goblin swears in several languages when the Elf mentions the opals and what they seem to contain or be. "These things again.. I thought they put a stop to it." Her expression is one of concern.<br />
<br />
"Ah, yes, Faran, meet Aelwyn and Eztli. They frequent the TarRaCe and I have been on a few guild missions with them also. Good folk. As are you, Faranmidahn." Gesturing lightly with a hand, Irshya waves off concern over her limp. "I am ill made for armor, and I also have old... wounds, that make it painful. I should look to getting something lighter, but magically reinforced."<br />
<br />
"We've never found the source of them," replies the warden. "I am Misvarivael. Call me Vae. Anyway," he holds his hand up, "We enter the Felwood from here." <br />
<br />
Indeed, you re now on the outskirts of the trees, and the q2uiet and mist together tend to indicate you're approaching the cursed part of these woods. "Just opals," he whispers.<br />
<br />
The magic stones....<br />
<br />
Hmm....<br />
<br />
Faran bows her head again to the introductions, "Well met."<br />
<br />
She gives a little sigh and shrugs, slipping her helm to her lap, "I have had some... unpleasant forays into the Wood in the past."<br />
<br />
In response to Irshya's defensive musings, she offers, "I could ask some of our armourers, if you know what sort of conditions you'd need to satisfy?"<br />
<br />
Aelwyn rumbles at Eztli. "This one knows how to ride to combat!" The draconian replies. "... this one thinks." He picks up his glaive and with an unnecessarily grandious gesture, lights up the blade. He seems to wave it slightly tauntingly at the branches. "Therefore, what is our task?" The draconian asks in turn from the elf.<br />
<br />
GAME: Irshya casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17<br />
<br />
"Well, yes, and I know how to dance. Doesn't mean if a famous dancer comes into town I'm going to miss the chance to pick up tips from them because I already know how to." Eztli snorts, flicking one hand a few ways with some quiet chanting that makes their robes shimmer with magic and fade away. <br />
<br />
"So, opals, we'll be careful. but, yes, what exactly are we going to be doing in here?"<br />
<br />
GAME: Eztli casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16<br />
<br />
Irshya sighs deeply at Vae's announcement of the source never being discovered. "Well, dire news indeed. I suppose they've found an area where several suspected monsters roam? And we have to put an end to them and collect their gems? Without touching them?"<br />
<br />
The pool shark giggles at Eztli and Aelwyn's back and forth, before she glances to the Lutch. "I... would take you up on that, if I can decide exactly what it is I wish for armor. Thank you very much!" The Gobbo smiles, before clearing her throat. "I am going to cast a ward against evil on myself, so if things go sideways, stick closer to me for added protection, okay?"<br />
<br />
The priestess pulls her holy symbol from under the neck of her robes, a small trident with a serpent circling the handle. She chants a small prayer in Goblin-talk, her symbol and then herself, begin to glow. The glow fades from the small trident, but continues on faintly around the Gobbo.<br />
<br />
"I'm prepared."<br />
<br />
Faranmidahn nods, "They may be able to suggest something as well. Maybe something suitable for swimming?" she says with a smile. She glances between the others as magic begins to be invoked and she slips her helm into place and buckles it on before swivelling the visor down.<br />
<br />
"I have some offensive magic, largely, though I have a spell I can use to move small objects without touching them if we need."<br />
<br />
GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (19)+1: 20<br />
<br />
GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (7)+5: 12<br />
<br />
GAME: Irshya rolls perception: (20)+13: 33<br />
<br />
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls perception: (11)+4: 15<br />
<br />
Creeping forward, Vae continues whispering, eyes scanning carefully ahead of him. <br />
<br />
"... we do not know what shape the threat will take. Only that witnesses saw one of the opals in this area, and suggested it was magically active. Be on your guard, and whatever you do, do *not* touch it."<br />
<br />
Aelwyn rumbles at Eztli. "Tch, no, this one would not ask - they would dance with them." He flicks his tail at her. "Or take them for a ride." A toothy grin.<br />
<br />
But the seriousness starts to settle in as the elf starts to slowly move forward and Aelwyn follows in suit, holding onto his glaive with relaxed, but firm grip. "... even for a guild mission here, this is vague." He mutters underneath his breath.<br />
<br />
"I am open to suggestions, Faran. We can talk about it after this, and I can meet your people. Not sure how much I have to spend, I am relatively modest in my needs, and I tend to put most everything into the TarRaCe. But I will check behind the cushions and under the floorboards." Irshya giggles lightly, and then nods to Aelwyn and Eztli, her expression growing serious.<br />
<br />
"I have heard rumours that people touching them turn into some sort of fel being, a fiend of some sort. So be on your guard."<br />
<br />
"If you're trying to learn, sometimes listening is hard sometimes. People can be real distracting." Eztli chuckles, but the small makari gorws quiet, and more serious. "Yeah, I don't like how vague it is. Why is it so time sensitive to find this stone? It's not like it's the first we've found here, what makes this one so different? Aside from, yeah, I don't want to touch it and turn into some fiend for certain. Some shiny rocks just aren't worth it."<br />
<br />
"That's right," remarks Vae, nodding. He kneels down, studying the ground. <br />
<br />
"We we have not identified is where these things are coming from, how they are moving through the forest. My hope is that we can find it, and then perhaps locate the source." <br />
<br />
It's ghoing ot take time, it seems, as you're looking for a veritable opal in the forest. A dark forest. With mist that curls around your feet and ominous silence. <br />
<br />
...great.<br />
<br />
Aelwyn tilts his head at the elf. "One has said as such," The draconian rumbles, and then takes a look at the forest. A deep breath, and he slides his hand across his mane of quills. "... though it does seem as if we were tricked to go deep in the forest in a very long and difficult search."<br />
<br />
Rolling his shoulders, the ruddy sith-makar glances around at the rest of the party. "Perhaps one could set a little bit of the forest in fire to make it easier?" He suggests, helpfully.<br />
<br />
GAME: Irshya rolls sense motive: (14)+4: 18<br />
<br />
The pool-shark grins, showing off a gap in her toothline, where her tongue flicks at, investigating the missing tooth.<br />
<br />
"Part of the problem is that they tempt you. As for how they move around, they probably get touched by some animal, and it moves with them... til it burns them up. Surely a simple mind cannot withstand what makes a thing a fiend."<br />
<br />
She suddenly lets out a loud sigh, and rubs at her cheek. "This is either the easiest Guild job ever, or this is a trap." There's a little crackle of electricity that jumps between the tines of her trident. "Care to explain, Vae?"<br />
<br />
She twirls the trident about in her hand, and then rams it into the ground, barely missing the opal resting there, partly obscured by the underbrush.<br />
<br />
"...care to explain what?" says Vae, confused, to Irshya. <br />
<br />
"Did you find it? Ah! Good! As I said, someone reported seeing one of the opals in this area. We can contain it. Now, let's fan out further and see if we can find any signs of *how* it got here." <br />
<br />
His eyes scan the area, immediately, trying to find *something*. Anything unusual. <br />
<br />
"I do not believe that there is a 'magic opal distribution system'."<br />
<br />
GAME: Eztli rolls spellcraft: (9)+11: 20<br />
<br />
"Hey, the thing is magic, right?" Eztli muses quietly, clacking two claws together with a few words hissed in Draconic. "Easy, easy! I think that's what we're looking for!" She shouts a moment too late. "Don't know if it's safe to poke even at a distance miss Irshya. And, huh, something the matter?" <br />
<br />
The small makari is left clueless for a brief moment, so they focus on peering at the stone. "As for what we found, I have no clue what this thing is. Doesn't look right, like, the _magic_ doesn't look right, and not just because it supposedly turns someone into a fiend. Kind of like what was in that recent report? Haven't seen the artefact they were talking about, but this stone has been around the block. Older than Rune which well, would make sense?"<br />
<br />
Aelwyn looks around the happenings and the sudden appearance of the opal with great confusion, then concern, slowly taking some space away from the round thing. He then moves to turn towards Vae and juts his own polearm onto the ground. Slit orange eyes narrowing, he hisses from underneath his breath. "This one would wish to know first why one knows it was here - and why one needs to know how it got here."<br />
<br />
For added effect, the ruddy sith-makar leans forward a touch more, glaring - but then he looks back at Eztli. "How does Twin relate to this?"<br />
<br />
GAME: Aelwyn rolls intimidate: (4)+15: 19<br />
<br />
The Gobbo huffs, "How is it we just ... stumble into this?" She yanks the trident from the ground. "This is highly suspect."<br />
<br />
Irshya looks to Aelwyn, "He did just say it was reported, but I'd like to talk to the one who reported it." She sighs.<br />
<br />
"But lets not get carried away. We need to get it out of here, I think, it's not safe to have it here."<br />
<br />
That said, she does crouch a little, to look more carefully into the underbrush. "Well, I mean, it might not be an /intentional/ distribution system, but one could still exist."<br />
<br />
"... is that right?" says Vae, glancing towards Eztli with curiousity. "And you know that how, exactly?" He's interested, curious, and a little worried about that. Aelwyn gets a symppathetic look. <br />
<br />
"We have regular patrols moving along the fringes. These opals have been appearing, often times at the core of wicked demonically infused creatures or elementals." <br />
<br />
"No, we can contain it. The issue is containing it without being exposed to the fel magic contained within. I have prepared a pouch for it -- perhaps we can push it in with your trident?" he asks Irshya. <br />
<br />
A pause, then he nods again at the goblin. "Perhaps -- but we need to identify the means. They keep appearing, and we know not how. It's a threat and a danger. Whoever's behind this creation... Hm. The spires -- " He gestures over the treeline, where one can see the hint of light, "they too are 'old magic'. They come from the time after the Sundering of Kulthus, but before the Demon Wars and Rune. Perhaps this too is a legacy of that time."<br />
<br />
"I don't know. Curse of adventurers, running into situations like this maybe?" Eztli shrugs, mostly to herself. "Alright, lets get this taken care of now and move while we still can. <br />
<br />
Aelwyn gets a look, and a shake of her head. "No, not the cute half-elf Rune, Rune, basically the source of all modern magic Rune, that one. I don't think Twin is _this_ old." she clarifies. "I don't know if I'm able to explain anything, you'd have to ask in Alexandria. Later, when we're finished here. Why now though, when did the reports of these stones even begin?"<br />
<br />
Aelwyn did not seem very pacified by the answers - especially since they weren't the kind he could stab - but he does withdraw. "Tch. As Sharkie said, this is suspicious." He rumbles, but then holds back to let the others deal with the opal. "Let us be quick, then."<br />
<br />
The other sith-makar's question makes Aelwyn turn his head. "This one believes the first ones were found seasons ago. This one remembers the first discussions in the Guild hall."<br />
<br />
"Or you could turn the pouch inside out, stick your hand in, pick up the gem, and turn the pouch right-side out again and tadaaa." Irshya sighs once more. "I suppose we could use my trident."<br />
<br />
The Goblin waits, expectantly. "As for the means, maybe we need more people to hide in here and wait and watch?"<br />
<br />
"So," begins Vae, thoughtfully, as he agrees with Irshya's suggestion. He turns the bag inside out and wears it as a glove, aiming to scoop it up like someone trying to dispose of dog poo. Dangerous dog poo. <br />
<br />
"That's right. They started to appear as we started to make headway in unlocking Linneia's spires. It was believed a likely demonic force was trying to keep us from accessing them to defend the Felwood curse -- but if th4e magic is old, as old as you suggest, then perhaps it might have a closer link to them than we knew? Unfortunately, studying the few opals recovered has proven dangerous, and they continue to appear without any clear indication of how and why. The felwood is too large and dangerous as it is to station people within it consistently. I am concerned that these opals, too, call peoplke to them, to lure them into making use of them." <br />
<br />
He turns the opal bag ionside out, containing it within with a relieved sigh. <br />
<br />
GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (19)+1: 20<br />
<br />
GAME: Irshya rolls perception: (18)+13: 31<br />
<br />
GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (4)+5: 9<br />
<br />
"Well, yeah, I was wondering if it was linked to, whatever was going on here. I hate how little we understand about the spires here, like we're bumbling through getting them active with no clue of the results." Eztli grumbles quietly. "Still, probably a good thing, maybe. Maybe getting them active is going to infest this place with fiends that get driven out, hard to say. Sometimes I agree with Aelwyn that the spires aren't worth not burning this place down. Be a lot simpler, might get us invaded by fiends all the same, but at least Aelwyn would be happy, so that's something."<br />
<br />
Aelwyn spreads his arms and looks at Eztli. "THANK you." He states with a huff and a grunt. At least that might get a rise out of the elf. "Surely the woods will be better off without the scourge affecting them."<br />
<br />
Sneaking closer, he takes a closer look at the opal and tilts his head. "Yes, there was someone here. Yet it was no animal, it does not look like." He tilts his head towards the other side. "... it is as if it was simply dropped there. From very far distance."</div>Seyarduhttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Recent_Logs&diff=43102&oldid=43100Recent Logs2024-03-24T07:17:42Z<p><span dir="auto"><span class="autocomment">March</span></span></p>
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</table>Seyarduhttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Go_Home_History_You%27re_Drunk&diff=43101&oldid=0Go Home History You're Drunk2024-03-23T05:24:35Z<p>Created page with "The Resurrectionists of Animus are always busy. They've been hard at work, as of late, with the city government on a number on undisclosed matters. Recently, a set of adventurers retrieved an item from the depths of the ruins of Genrivia, an example of temporal magics from a different system of magic than Rune's own. The results are going to be discussed with both the city officials *and* members of the Guild of Explorer's. Representatives chosen from amongst their r..."</p>
<p><b>New page</b></p><div>The Resurrectionists of Animus are always busy. <br />
<br />
They've been hard at work, as of late, with the city government on a number on undisclosed matters. Recently, a set of adventurers retrieved an item from the depths of the ruins of Genrivia, an example of temporal magics from a different system of magic than Rune's own. <br />
<br />
The results are going to be discussed with both the city officials *and* members of the Guild of Explorer's. Representatives chosen from amongst their ranks to gain a wide variety of perspectives. <br />
<br />
Thus, a meeting room is filled, and you're amongst that number.<br />
<br />
Aryia was amongst the meeting room, the new hotshot colosseum coach sits with her chair leaned back and legs crossed. The mute mul has her shades atop her head, scarred face pulled down in ever present scowl. Her boots tap against the air. An update from the Resurrectionists is both an interesting and concerning thing. As annoying as it was to track down those objects.<br />
<br />
Mikilos arrives a little early, grabbing a spot where he can see and be seen, but won't block the view of too many behind him. The wizard peers around as more people arrive, nodding hello to familiar faces.<br />
<br />
Crik actually did not have a clear idea how he wound up in here. He was no mage, after all, and hardly an expert in magics of any kind. After all, when one swaps over an exceedingly fancy cloak over their head, to casually sneak with the group to just take a look at where they were going...<br />
<br />
Yes, Crik had very unclear notion of how he wound up in this room, the corvid egalrin looking around nervously. Maybe if he took out a notepad it would deter people from asking questions? Look important and expensive? The hooded figure did just that in the shadows.<br />
<br />
Reithak wandered in after some time to find a spot in the meeting room, and the egalrin drags out a chair to lean over and wait for everyone to arrive. The egalrin took a look around, and seeing as no one had started speaking quite yet, Reithak offered a wave to Crik before she pulled out some yarn to work on their knitting.<br />
<br />
Griva Brassbringer arrives. The khazadi dwarf with her steel-grey eyes and her long braid is flanked by Farland, the colorfully dressed gnome who's her second. The two of them are approaching the table in front, where a few Guild rep officials are also seated. They are impatiently waiting for things to get under way. <br />
<br />
Griva takes a seat and kicks back, a certain air of nonchalance to her despite the seriousness. Farland looks far more notably unnerved.<br />
<br />
Aryia offers a faint flick of her fingers as hello to others, her focus turning towards Griva and Farland. The concern dripping off the gnome gets her to squint, but the egalrin knitting gets a curious and intrigued glance of glowy eyes.<br />
<br />
Mikilos sits up a bit as the officals start to gather. Seems things are ready just yet, but soon. The unnerved Farland gets a curious glace, but, well, more information is why we're all here.<br />
<br />
Crik straightens up and then slowly, with a severe look around the place - bops his head towards Reithak and then quickly starts jotting down something restlessly. He leans towards her after a few moments of awkward shuffling. "... do you have any idea why we are here?" He whispers with a deep voice.<br />
<br />
Reithak pauses her knitting, tucking it into one hand as the people who called them there arrived. "You're pretty young, right? By mul'niessa standards, I mean." The egalrin points out. "Sorry, names Reithak. Reason I'm asking is since, takes an awful lot for a mul'niessa to look old, doesn't it?" <br />
<br />
turning their attention to a corvid colored egalrin nearby. "I've got some theories about what may be relevant, but not a clue." She shrugs. "If it's related to anything I've been up to, figured I'd make myself available in case they need to ask me about any of it."<br />
<br />
"Welcome, everyone," begins Griva, "It's good to see you all here. First, let us begin by breaking down where things are at: Some of you may know, or have experienced, issues with temporal magics, or time itself. These facets have been in Guild reports. Examples include localized time travel, temporal breakdowns, and the kind of temporal issues one sees in the Vast becoming more commonplace beyond that locale. Things 'slipping' through time. Navos, the God of history, seems rather busy these days. This issue no doubt stems back to the death of Animus and the adoption of his duties by Navos and Eluna." <br />
<br />
Farland makes a face.<br />
<br />
Aryia quirks a brow at Reithak, slowly nodding once about the question before giving a light huff, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. She fishes out a worn out sheet of paper and holds it out for them to see. It reads in Trade, "My name is Aryia."<br />
<br />
The mute frowns at the news, her scratching her head. "Well that explains some bullshit," she signs, rubbing her face and sighing deeply. <Hand speech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Mikilos frowns and nods. His own adventures thru time documented as best he could recall in reports as well. Mostly involving fae BS. "Breaking fundamental roles of reality has consequences. Shocking."<br />
<br />
Crik raises his head as Griva begins to speak - and then his feathers start to floof up, his beak opening. Time travel? They are talking about time travel. Even worse - ancient history! Tail bopping, he audibly makes notes on his notepad, waiting to hear more. His attention is then partly stolen by the hand signing and he casually glances over - then gets stuck looking at her. Wait, he understood that? "... you are supposed to understand hand signals?" He quietly asks by himself, shocked by this revelation.<br />
<br />
"Sorry, just checking a theory, that that weird orb we found messed with aging, and not some other damage. I think they're doing better, so it's no lasting harm at least." The egalrin elaborates. Reithak pauses to listen, and the inquisitor huffs loudly. "Sounds like a right mess of things. Real big too, bigger than just Alexandria big. You let anyone else know, yet?" She asks. "You understood that Crik? Should show me sometime, I'm always down to learn something new."<br />
<br />
Holding up a hand towards the egalrin, Griva points a finger at Reithak. <br />
<br />
"Yes," she replies, "One of the reasons you were sent to retrieve it is because we knew that temporal experiments in magic existed before Rune was a glint in anyone's eye. That was one such experiment and while it isn't exactly what we were hoping for, it did help illuminate something: these problems exist beyond our own system of magic. It means it's not JUST the death of Animus.We don't really understand the nature of time, per say, but it seems like these problems are travelling backwards *and* forwards in time at the same time, as well."<br />
<br />
Aryia just stares at the two birdfolk, before giving a slow, bewildered nod. "If one couldn't, then I'd be fucked," she comments with a flick.<br />
<br />
She turns to the speaker in her chair, casting a look to Mikilos of 'you're one to talk'. She pinches the bridge of her nose. "So it's just beyond finding the pieces. Great." <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Mikilos's frown deepens. "The problems are not traveling back or forward thru time. Travel takes time to happen. These ARE time. Any change isn't a change because it always was, instantly. The problems have, so far as temporal mechanics go, always been there. We're just getting better at detecting the effects of them."<br />
<br />
Crik shies away from the gestures Aryia was giving, wondering how one could do such things with them in polite company. Then agian, it was not particularly polite company they were in. "... yes, maybe not." He answers Reithak.<br />
<br />
Returning to the actual topic at hand, or hands, Crik tilts his head. Then he moves his notepad sideways to keep drawing the vertical line both ways. "What are we supposed to do then?" He asks then, then looks shocked. Oh no, he asked a question. He glances around, then moves behind Reithak to make it appear the taller egalrin asked it.<br />
<br />
"Seems it was there for some time. It was, weird. Think the people who lived in those ruins might not have known everything either, given it was still there, and there was a container for moving it. Shame all the notes and things were illegible." Reithak sighs. "So if I get this right, you're saying that we've got more problems than just the big god of magic dying. I hope this doesn't mean you're all dusting your hands of the matter since it doesn't have anything to do with you still, right?"<br />
<br />
"That's true to an extent -- but think of an earthquake. It radiates from a central point, and it takes longer for it to 'reach' its maximal extent. It might seem fast, but there's a non-negligible amount of transferrence of energy going on." <br />
<br />
There's a blink at Reithak from her. <br />
<br />
"... these problems belong to all of us."<br />
<br />
Aryia, in fact, was not polite company. Said impolite company keeps her focus on the topic at hand, chewing the inside of her cheek in thought. A glance to Reithak before she flicks out with a hand, "So we got weird time shit being more prevalent. You say it's transferring. Do you have a location it's typically popping up at? Or just, I don't know, wherever? I really don't want to have to kick my own ass again." <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
"Good, glad we're all on the same page. People suffering from an earthquake doesn't mean a few brickyards won't raise their prices." The egalrin laughs. "Clearly you called people here because it's a concern, I get it. Hey, come on now, I don't feel like standing up and it's harder to hear behind me." She adds, trying to nudge Crik back from behind her. "So, I haven't seen anything about time moving forward. What's that about?"<br />
<br />
Mikilos frowns again, but nods. "That's not a fully accurate metaphor, but TradeSpeak doesn't really have the words to be accurate. Even Eldritch or Kulthian only have phrases for the most core of concepts. But anyway, yes, of the observeable effects, what patterns or traits have been common, if any?"<br />
<br />
"I suppose you only notice time has passed when you see the past." Crik points out to the other egalrin as he steps out. Continuing to scribble notes, he waits for the other more knowledgeable people to talk.<br />
<br />
"Uh huh," says Griva with the sort of dismissiveness one Khazadi reserves for elves. <br />
<br />
"/Again/," she says to Aryia, pinching the bridge of her nose. <br />
<br />
"We believe it's mostly showing up in places where time is already damaged. The Vast, as I said, but we will start to see in other places. History itself could well be under threat. All it takes is one particular moment in time to ... dissolve, say, due to temporal interference, and the now could become untethered from the then. Something we may have to work to ensure doesn't happen." <br />
<br />
She lets out a breath, thne continues, "As for the future, all I can say is 'be prepared' for oddities. Temporal oddities. Things popping up when you least expect them, people you thought dead might turn up alive with no explanation you can conceive of, and of course, you might wind up in a position to 'kick your own ass'."<br />
<br />
Aryia holds up her hands. "I just figured there was more specific place in mind that you all figured out," she explains. "Rather than just the Vast. Because, it's, well, vast." A smile threatens to flick across her lips. Jokes, she's got them.<br />
<br />
The thought of history being unraveled does get her a touch unsettled. As a long lived species, she's been through her fair share of historical events. And going through them again didn't sound... pleasant. Aryia leans forward, brows furrow. "Alright. That's good to know at least. Dead people might come back. And not just some undead invasion again. I just hope I just have to fight my future self. My past self would be.." She glances to the side. "... complicated." <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Mikilos says, “Things that should be dead, or never have existed. Three minute eggs, done in sixty seconds. Effects that are yet to have a cause. Maybe for once work with yourself and team up to kick someone elses ass.”<br />
<br />
"If I might be frank, hinging the stability of reality on a single moment is, well, that's right fragile, isn't it?" Reithak sighs, tapping one hand on the chair and stowing the knitting that was getting more and more crumpled in her hand. "Be better to fix things so a single point getting messed with doesn't ruin anything, but I suppose smarter folks know what they're doing, and that's easier said than done. It's easier to see things you know happened than something that you aren't sure is normal or is from a time you shouldn't know yet, that's true."<br />
<br />
"... so all the digging of the past at home could be... of the future?" Crik attempts by himself, but then shakes his head, making another circular symbol in his notebook. But the corvid starts to slide back into the background, scribbling furiously at his notebook.<br />
<br />
"Anything is possible at this point," replies Griva, rubbing an eye. "BEar in mind, too, that this doesn't just apply to us. One of the reasons we're not keeping it less secret is precisely because, say, Charn assuredly has its own people working on this to say nothing of the multitude of other threats in the world that have less relatively narrow ambitions about what could be done with access to the past and an ability to rewrite its future."<br />
<br />
Aryia looks a bit pained at seeing the needlework getting crumpled and crimped. "This includes but is not limited to, I don't know, Animus not getting shattered. Or Charn deciding to not be a bunch of pricks and doing some whack political move. That kind of unraveling point of history."<br />
<br />
She gestures a hand towards Griva. "Case and point. Basically: watch our past, present, and future asses." She rubs at her face, silently groaning before pulling her shades back down to hide her eyes. "Appreciate the heads up, Miss Brassbringer." <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Mikilos nods. "Change of the past doesn't have to be bad things. But destabalizing the present causes problems that are seldom worth it."<br />
<br />
"So... triple all... the guards..." Crik quietly continued to ruminate by himself - wait, if everything that happened in the past could happen in the future or vice versa - could he walk into a house that already had its alarms go off before he even went there?<br />
<br />
Beak raising, the corvid looks around, and then bops his head at no one in particular, before he starts to half run, half hop off.<br />
<br />
"Well, that's concerning, I can't say that all the unknowns are particularly comforting, if that's the case." Reithak nods. "So, what? No use bemoaning how hard it is, what can we actually do to deal with this? As gorgeous as I think past me is, I'd rather not deal with them if they're trying to kill me, even I've got standards after a certain point."<br />
<br />
"Yes, well, it's what we've been able to deduce," replies Griva, rubbing her face. "It makes our work more urgent. I don't like that. We must also continue to look for the shards of Animus. THe more of those we can gather, the better. More are appearing all the time, now... something I do not like. Not one bit."<br />
<br />
Aryia watches as Crik run-hops out, her trying to parse their antics before giving up and shaking her head. She gives Reithak a look, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling in thought before seemingly conceding something in her own thoughts.<br />
<br />
Back to the present-- wait. "Of /course/ they're appearing now because of this," she gestures briskly before throwing her hands out, as if she was tossing the topic to the ground. "Great. And if some are appearing, that means they can vanish too." <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Mikilos considers. "...maybe? 'Appear' might not be the best word. They become known to us. But, suppose is possible they end up becomming known to someone else first, who retreaives them instead of us in the first place."<br />
<br />
"Well, I don't know. I don't think time was falling apart when Animus was here, so maybe it'd do some good to find them? Beats charn getting their claws on it." Reithak shrugs. "Oh, Crik, you're taking off? But what if I want to hear what Aryia's saying?" The egalrin calls out, but they're already hopping away. "Oh well, I'll just assume it's something crass." <br />
<br />
"So, yeah, I don't know if we can deal with them all if someone finds them first. Not to mention how dangerous I've heard them to be."<br />
<br />
Spreading her hands in a gesture of uncertainty, Griva Brassbringer lets out a breath, cheeks puffing. The dark circles under her eyes are made more obvious. <br />
<br />
"Perhaps it always was. Perhaps Animus was always dead, yet lived. What time appears to be to us is not what it appears to be to the Gods, who seem to exist outside our understanding of it."<br />
<br />
Aryia shrugs and splays her hands out in a similar manner to Griva. "Then we won't worry too hard with would have, could have, will be, can be's," the mute signs a bit bluntly. "We'll just worry about the now, and keep an eye out for more of those Shards. And get you some khazad coffee." That is, a stiff drink with a dash of coffee. <Handspeech/Tongues><br />
<br />
Mikilos nods. "Equally possible Animus is alive at all times, despite having died. I agree there's only so much that we, as mortal temporal beings, can know, much less understand. So focus upon the aspects we can grasp, do what we can, and pray that it's enough."<br />
<br />
"Well, I suppose that's that, for now then. Time's weird. Life's weird, just gotta deal with it best as we can." Reithak relents. "That being said, I think I need more than a few drinks, and the dwarf in charge needs a good night's sleep. At least we know what to look out for now, right?"<br />
<br />
-End Scene-<br />
<br />
[[Category:Logs]]</div>Aryiahttp://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php?title=Recent_Logs&diff=43100&oldid=43098Recent Logs2024-03-23T05:13:13Z<p><span dir="auto"><span class="autocomment">March</span></span></p>
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