[The Ruined Observatory]
Hiep wasn't sure what to expect. She came here to keep the kids out of trouble, for the most part. But now she sees that the problem is far more serious than that. And the kind you need a Sidereal for. Of course, those two don't know she is one and she shouldn't let it slip. Her resplendent destiny should wipe everything not related to her being a janitor from their minds, but... Skye is an Exalt of a type completely unknown to her. Who knows how resilient she might be.
"It looks pretty bad, that's for sure. It's never a good sign when something seems to be in two states at once."
Outside: Grass touch place
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Shadowcaller
- Poster from Beyond the Veil
- Posts: 2926
- Joined: Aug 02, 2022 6:29 am
- Location: Sweden
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Finding the Lair
Has Nathair ever been about to drown?
Or does he even recall what it felt like to require to breath in the first place?
Since that sensation, as alien as it might now be to Cat-Nathair, is what he starts to experience as they get pulled under what should be the floor but now seems like a wast ocean. He feels what should just be a memory of water entering his throat. A throat which feels less like a cats and more like the one he used to have, if he even has one at this point.
It might not even be his sensations yet he feels them nonetheless as panic starts to set in. His entire body, his entire mind, consumed with the sudden need for air. He can feel himself struggling, not in this metal body but a more fleshy, human, one.
Yet as much as he now desires it he can only watch as the surface gets further and further away as he's getting pulled down by the dark presence. That's when those lungs he hasn't needed for some time suddenly start to burn, reminding him why his mind was so obsessed with breathing.
He needs it.
He's gonna die.
He's going to feel himself dying and there's nothing he can do about it.
But just as his consciousness should fade away and the darkness of death should envelop his sight.
It doesn't.
Instead that burning sensation of his lungs screaming out for air as water fills them persists.
And so it will, his mind trapped in that all consuming torturous thought of the need of air.
Unable to think of anything else.
Forever.
Guard-Nathir who isn't consumed by this might notice a few details though. Like how that dark shape resemble something swimming just beneath the surface. Not enough to make out any details other than its sheer size and despite not actually being there he can almost feel it touching his leg.
Yet there's nothing there of course.
The guard however is very much present though.
And perhaps it's better to focus on killing him than the sensations Nathair is getting through his other self.
However, as Nathair makes his move the guard isn't surprised. Instead he seems to have readied himself by putting his glaive in-between him and Nathair. It's not going to save him from getting bisected but the cyborg might have just taken the weapon to the chest as he attacked.
The others also seems to have been ready to some degree. Though perhaps not for him to suddenly sprout a twenty foot long blade out of his arms. Some manage to move out of the way just in time but others are caught by the blade to various degrees. Another is caught right in the stomach like the one just in front of him but two, including the 'leader', manage to move out of the way just in time.
The question is if the blade is going to manage to cut right through them however as they're fairly tough. Probably not ideal if his blade gets stuck in a corpse or two. They're not screaming in pain like those other two guards yet, but that might change at any moment.
Has Nathair ever been about to drown?
Or does he even recall what it felt like to require to breath in the first place?
Since that sensation, as alien as it might now be to Cat-Nathair, is what he starts to experience as they get pulled under what should be the floor but now seems like a wast ocean. He feels what should just be a memory of water entering his throat. A throat which feels less like a cats and more like the one he used to have, if he even has one at this point.
It might not even be his sensations yet he feels them nonetheless as panic starts to set in. His entire body, his entire mind, consumed with the sudden need for air. He can feel himself struggling, not in this metal body but a more fleshy, human, one.
Yet as much as he now desires it he can only watch as the surface gets further and further away as he's getting pulled down by the dark presence. That's when those lungs he hasn't needed for some time suddenly start to burn, reminding him why his mind was so obsessed with breathing.
He needs it.
He's gonna die.
He's going to feel himself dying and there's nothing he can do about it.
But just as his consciousness should fade away and the darkness of death should envelop his sight.
It doesn't.
Instead that burning sensation of his lungs screaming out for air as water fills them persists.
And so it will, his mind trapped in that all consuming torturous thought of the need of air.
Unable to think of anything else.
Forever.
Guard-Nathir who isn't consumed by this might notice a few details though. Like how that dark shape resemble something swimming just beneath the surface. Not enough to make out any details other than its sheer size and despite not actually being there he can almost feel it touching his leg.
Yet there's nothing there of course.
The guard however is very much present though.
And perhaps it's better to focus on killing him than the sensations Nathair is getting through his other self.
However, as Nathair makes his move the guard isn't surprised. Instead he seems to have readied himself by putting his glaive in-between him and Nathair. It's not going to save him from getting bisected but the cyborg might have just taken the weapon to the chest as he attacked.
The others also seems to have been ready to some degree. Though perhaps not for him to suddenly sprout a twenty foot long blade out of his arms. Some manage to move out of the way just in time but others are caught by the blade to various degrees. Another is caught right in the stomach like the one just in front of him but two, including the 'leader', manage to move out of the way just in time.
The question is if the blade is going to manage to cut right through them however as they're fairly tough. Probably not ideal if his blade gets stuck in a corpse or two. They're not screaming in pain like those other two guards yet, but that might change at any moment.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[The Ruined Observatory]
Breaking fate isn't beyond the realm of possibility. Stars are, after all, intimately tied with fate. And this place seems to have been created with the goal of meddling in the heavens. There don't appear to be any monsters outside the tower. In fact, there isn't any indication that the influence of the tower has leaked beyond it. Which is probably for the best.
"I only looked around the top part that's fallen over," Khannie reports to the others as she takes a deep breath and allows her illusionary disguise to completely fade to darkness. Under the illusion she's a unicorn, more deer-like in appearance than horse-like. Her face has a vaguely humanoid characteristic to it, with a large brain and big intelligent eyes. It's amply obvious that she's not a beast. If they're going to be going into danger she needs one-hundred percent of her power at call. She can't be wasting anything on vanities like her human disguise.
When she speaks again it's with ghost-sounds that she matches up pretty well with mouth movements. Without a human vocal apparatus she can only make deer noises. She's roughly the size of a reindeer juvenile, so probably a little bit smaller than Heip's good buddy.
"It looked mostly normal until I got inside it," the unicorn reports, her ears swiveling this way and that in search of threatening sounds. "I mean, except for the jittery two places at once thing. That's weird. I mean like it got REALLY weird once I got inside. Like space was all bent and stretched. I didn't go inside the rest of the tower. It feels like whatever happened here happened in the basement; that's where the corruption feels the strongest."
Well.
That leaves our heroes with a choice.
Check out the upper portion of the tower in greater detail? The snarled web of fate isn't as tangled there.
Venture into the middle floors? That's unexplored but more dangerous.
Or descend into the basement where the occult ritual was carried out and where reality itself has caved in on itself?
[The Silent Sepulcher]
The blessed warmth is a thankful thing, isn't it?
If one ignores the very real and mundane looking furniture one can almost imagine floating in the depths of space. But the furniture IS here, breaking the illusion.
It begs the question 'why'?
This place is empty, save for a few frozen corpses outside. So why is it set up like a place of worship? Maybe veneration is just inherent to these beings. Their power manifests as places of sacred significance. It's still strange, though. Why somewhere that is clearly meant to house people in a place that's so hostile?
And what does the inscription on the doors mean?
As Tahara tires to quiet herself it's... difficult to tell how much time passes. This place is just as absolutely silent as it was outside and there's nothing to really measure the passage of time again. She's clearly missing something, though. What on earth is the first part of the couplet supposed to mean? She must be missing something.
If she turns her attention elsewhere she'll notice that beyond the edges of the light cast by the artificial sun, beyond the pillars that line the walls of the sanctuary, are a series of cells hidden away in the darkness.
...where those there before?
They couldn't have been. Surely she would have noticed them.
Breaking fate isn't beyond the realm of possibility. Stars are, after all, intimately tied with fate. And this place seems to have been created with the goal of meddling in the heavens. There don't appear to be any monsters outside the tower. In fact, there isn't any indication that the influence of the tower has leaked beyond it. Which is probably for the best.
"I only looked around the top part that's fallen over," Khannie reports to the others as she takes a deep breath and allows her illusionary disguise to completely fade to darkness. Under the illusion she's a unicorn, more deer-like in appearance than horse-like. Her face has a vaguely humanoid characteristic to it, with a large brain and big intelligent eyes. It's amply obvious that she's not a beast. If they're going to be going into danger she needs one-hundred percent of her power at call. She can't be wasting anything on vanities like her human disguise.
When she speaks again it's with ghost-sounds that she matches up pretty well with mouth movements. Without a human vocal apparatus she can only make deer noises. She's roughly the size of a reindeer juvenile, so probably a little bit smaller than Heip's good buddy.
"It looked mostly normal until I got inside it," the unicorn reports, her ears swiveling this way and that in search of threatening sounds. "I mean, except for the jittery two places at once thing. That's weird. I mean like it got REALLY weird once I got inside. Like space was all bent and stretched. I didn't go inside the rest of the tower. It feels like whatever happened here happened in the basement; that's where the corruption feels the strongest."
Well.
That leaves our heroes with a choice.
Check out the upper portion of the tower in greater detail? The snarled web of fate isn't as tangled there.
Venture into the middle floors? That's unexplored but more dangerous.
Or descend into the basement where the occult ritual was carried out and where reality itself has caved in on itself?
[The Silent Sepulcher]
The blessed warmth is a thankful thing, isn't it?
If one ignores the very real and mundane looking furniture one can almost imagine floating in the depths of space. But the furniture IS here, breaking the illusion.
It begs the question 'why'?
This place is empty, save for a few frozen corpses outside. So why is it set up like a place of worship? Maybe veneration is just inherent to these beings. Their power manifests as places of sacred significance. It's still strange, though. Why somewhere that is clearly meant to house people in a place that's so hostile?
And what does the inscription on the doors mean?
As Tahara tires to quiet herself it's... difficult to tell how much time passes. This place is just as absolutely silent as it was outside and there's nothing to really measure the passage of time again. She's clearly missing something, though. What on earth is the first part of the couplet supposed to mean? She must be missing something.
If she turns her attention elsewhere she'll notice that beyond the edges of the light cast by the artificial sun, beyond the pillars that line the walls of the sanctuary, are a series of cells hidden away in the darkness.
...where those there before?
They couldn't have been. Surely she would have noticed them.
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quillpleasant
- Reborn Elder Poster
- Posts: 1644
- Joined: Feb 27, 2023 7:23 am
- Location: Somewhere cold
- Pronouns: Any
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Finding the Lair
Nathair's state of being makes the drowning curse... interesting. Since his consciousness is split throughout the millions of nanobots that make up his body, he's both fully in control of every part while also being able to function entirely separately when the need arises. In many cases, this is an advantage, but there are some downsides. For instance, since his mind is linked, unless he deliberately severs that link then his mind is essentially one system even when acting in multiple bodies.
All that is to say that when the drowning curse begins to take effect, it will be felt just as strongly by the prime Nathair. The sheer overwhelming horror and panic, coming from something that hasn't been a danger to him in centuries, is entirely unexpected. He staggers, losing momentum in his attack and being unable to stop the guard's glaive from stabbing deep into his chest.
But it doesn't last long. He knew that something horrible awaited his cat-form, and was ready to sever the tie. Before the drowning curse completely drags him down he lets go, and the small piece he's been piloting at range just collapses, the many eyed cat melting into a pile of inert metallic goo, shining with black oil. At the same moment, his guard-form regains its faculties.
With no internal organs and the ability to reshape at will, physical damage such as a polearm to the chest is entirely ineffective at damaging him. The flesh around the glaive turns to the consistency of fine sand, allowing the weapon to simply fall out of him. Then he's in motion again, the giant blade collapsing into silvery sand and flowing back to him as he throws out his other hand, firing a volley of foot long metal needles at the remaining guards with enough force to punch through stone.
Nathair's state of being makes the drowning curse... interesting. Since his consciousness is split throughout the millions of nanobots that make up his body, he's both fully in control of every part while also being able to function entirely separately when the need arises. In many cases, this is an advantage, but there are some downsides. For instance, since his mind is linked, unless he deliberately severs that link then his mind is essentially one system even when acting in multiple bodies.
All that is to say that when the drowning curse begins to take effect, it will be felt just as strongly by the prime Nathair. The sheer overwhelming horror and panic, coming from something that hasn't been a danger to him in centuries, is entirely unexpected. He staggers, losing momentum in his attack and being unable to stop the guard's glaive from stabbing deep into his chest.
But it doesn't last long. He knew that something horrible awaited his cat-form, and was ready to sever the tie. Before the drowning curse completely drags him down he lets go, and the small piece he's been piloting at range just collapses, the many eyed cat melting into a pile of inert metallic goo, shining with black oil. At the same moment, his guard-form regains its faculties.
With no internal organs and the ability to reshape at will, physical damage such as a polearm to the chest is entirely ineffective at damaging him. The flesh around the glaive turns to the consistency of fine sand, allowing the weapon to simply fall out of him. Then he's in motion again, the giant blade collapsing into silvery sand and flowing back to him as he throws out his other hand, firing a volley of foot long metal needles at the remaining guards with enough force to punch through stone.
horses can attack and eat me
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Shadowcaller
- Poster from Beyond the Veil
- Posts: 2926
- Joined: Aug 02, 2022 6:29 am
- Location: Sweden
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Finding the Lair
After that barrage only the leader is still standing. The other guard attempted to parry but the projectile went right through the handle of the glaive and then through their shoulder. Not usually directly lethal but something that can punch through stone essentially pulverizes the guards bones. Nearly completely severing their arm from the rest of their body.
Despite their best efforts this is shortly followed by a cry of pain.
Though in this case this might not even have been needed to trigger a response from the more otherworldly guardians of this place. Since Nathair can spot more of those vague outlines of magic moving towards him, coming from all directions.
He would already be aware that some of them hid underneath, or perhaps within, the enchantments on the floor but now he can see that some of them appears to be flying as well.
As for the final guard, she only survived by dropping to the floor and has now rolled behind a nearby shelf. This means that there's nothing standing between him and the artifact other than the massive gate itself.
After that barrage only the leader is still standing. The other guard attempted to parry but the projectile went right through the handle of the glaive and then through their shoulder. Not usually directly lethal but something that can punch through stone essentially pulverizes the guards bones. Nearly completely severing their arm from the rest of their body.
Despite their best efforts this is shortly followed by a cry of pain.
Though in this case this might not even have been needed to trigger a response from the more otherworldly guardians of this place. Since Nathair can spot more of those vague outlines of magic moving towards him, coming from all directions.
He would already be aware that some of them hid underneath, or perhaps within, the enchantments on the floor but now he can see that some of them appears to be flying as well.
As for the final guard, she only survived by dropping to the floor and has now rolled behind a nearby shelf. This means that there's nothing standing between him and the artifact other than the massive gate itself.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Riftline]Thursday Violist wrote: ↑Nov 28, 2023 3:08 pm [Riftline]
"Yeah, cultists are the worst," Violeta says, nodding in agreement. "Unfortunately, I have no way to permanently stop them, so the best I can do is one at a time."
Violeta takes a deep breath and exhales again.
"Vigil's that one group most concerned with stopping big threats, right?" the foxlady says, and waits for confirmation. "Yeah, so...I don't really trust them. What if their solution is something like 'The problem is serious enough that the only way to guarantee cultists never get you is if you're dead!' or 'don't worry we'll make sure you only get sacrificed by the Good Guys' or to lock up my entire family 'for our protection' or something like that?"
She sighs.
"Besides, I don't really have time for that right now," she adds. Violeta finally opens up and reveals why she got on the train in the first place. "You see, my family's got this...multigenerational curse that gets stronger over time," she reveals, "and my daughter has it real bad. My parents are too old to go out and find a solution, so instead I'm having them watch my daughter for me while I find someone who knows what's up." Her daughter, by the way, is still a toddler so she's really concerned about her.
"Usualy they do that." he replies. "It is their main agenda."
When she explains her fear he just laugths. "I see where you go there, but at last the heads of Vigil aren't lawful stupid. At least one of them even has a family on her own which makes them even more eager to help you out. Trust me. Sadly I couldn't go there for you while you check your curse. I don't know if they remember me, but if they do they likly won't listen to me anyway."
He was at AMEN for a time, but never played a decent role. I assume he could walk up there and chat withthem without anyone care.
"As for your curse. What can you tell me about it? Source, Symptoms etc." he says, but befor she can answer.
"I might have a way to weaken it, but it's not a nice way... not like black magic or stuff just uncomfortable for most people."
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Silent Sepulcher]Rebonack wrote: ↑Dec 03, 2023 8:34 pm
[The Silent Sepulcher]
The blessed warmth is a thankful thing, isn't it?
If one ignores the very real and mundane looking furniture one can almost imagine floating in the depths of space. But the furniture IS here, breaking the illusion.
It begs the question 'why'?
This place is empty, save for a few frozen corpses outside. So why is it set up like a place of worship? Maybe veneration is just inherent to these beings. Their power manifests as places of sacred significance. It's still strange, though. Why somewhere that is clearly meant to house people in a place that's so hostile?
And what does the inscription on the doors mean?
As Tahara tires to quiet herself it's... difficult to tell how much time passes. This place is just as absolutely silent as it was outside and there's nothing to really measure the passage of time again. She's clearly missing something, though. What on earth is the first part of the couplet supposed to mean? She must be missing something.
If she turns her attention elsewhere she'll notice that beyond the edges of the light cast by the artificial sun, beyond the pillars that line the walls of the sanctuary, are a series of cells hidden away in the darkness.
...where those there before?
They couldn't have been. Surely she would have noticed them.
...But then, what on earth could they be for?
Did the... entities that built this place put some kind of puzzle lock on the door? Was she meant to look at the cells for some kind of mechanism to open it?
Or are they just distractions, questions that demand answering, meant to break the moment of peace she'd just created?
...
Unfortunately, if it's the latter, they work quite well. Tahara can't simply leave them uninvestigated. With a silent sigh, she stands up...
And immediately feels her legs buckle under her, briefly transforming into amorphous blobs before the roaches find their way back into a more solid pattern.
She's running out of time.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Silent Sepulcher]
The maw of time stands open and yawning before us all. Tahara thought she could buy some more, but was that even true?
She shuffles over to one of the cells and discovers that they contain implements for writing. The sort of thing you would expect from monks diligently copying sacred texts. Their muttered prayers of recitation would fill the halls of a place like this with pious music, if not for the fact that they're empty of people and this place is gripped in the claws of a stifling silence.
The only thing written on the paper is that phrase, over and over and over again.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
What does it MEAN, though? This place is still and silent. But how could Taraha be that as well without being dead?
Unless that isn't the point at all.
What was it that Catherine had said when she braved a place like this?
What mattered was that she had a Path clear behind her, clarity of intent, and indefatigable purpose.
Why are you here, Tahara?
Why are you trying to escape the stillness of silence?
The maw of time stands open and yawning before us all. Tahara thought she could buy some more, but was that even true?
She shuffles over to one of the cells and discovers that they contain implements for writing. The sort of thing you would expect from monks diligently copying sacred texts. Their muttered prayers of recitation would fill the halls of a place like this with pious music, if not for the fact that they're empty of people and this place is gripped in the claws of a stifling silence.
The only thing written on the paper is that phrase, over and over and over again.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
What does it MEAN, though? This place is still and silent. But how could Taraha be that as well without being dead?
Unless that isn't the point at all.
What was it that Catherine had said when she braved a place like this?
What mattered was that she had a Path clear behind her, clarity of intent, and indefatigable purpose.
Why are you here, Tahara?
Why are you trying to escape the stillness of silence?
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Silent Sepulcher]
Because there was still so much left to do. So much left to say. So much...
So much other people could say.
Tahara blinks back to reality, her head swimming a little from... something. It's a sensation much like what happens when one stands up too quickly, her brain getting fuzzy briefly as she feels the blood rush back into her head.
Or at least it would, if she had any blood.
Tahara carefully adjusts the papers in front of her, checking for some manner of hint, only to find that mantra in front of her again.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
Why does it have to make so much and so little sense at the same time? It'd be much easier on her if she could either see the meaning clearly or realise it's nonsense and just move on.
The trash witch picks up the paper and turns it this way and that, as though expecting some other clue to present itself, likely with no luck.
...Why is she here, anyway?
The question comes back to her, unbidden. She's not sure where from, but once it's there it's harder to ignore than the riddle in front of her. As much as she wants to focus on the task, her mind just... keeps wandering. Back to the question.
Why is she here?
...
If she's being honest with herself... she doesn't truly know. She wanted to avoid death, yes, but didn't everything?
...
Well... maybe not, actually.
She's not really afraid of the end. A few minutes or hours ago, she was perfectly willing to freeze under a thick blanket of snow, leaving behind less than a corpse. That didn't really sound like a bad way to go, at least not for her. Alone, unmourned, undiscovered, without pain or fear. Quietly forgotten, even by the world itself. Not a moment of fuss over her.
...But she didn't stay. She had the option to simply fade away in the snowstorm and chose to come inside.
For her friends.
Tahara looks down at her arm, watching the roaches skitter over it, increasingly absent-mindedly. She didn't want them to freeze to death outside. They'd been good to her. Kind, even. Offering themselves up for the girl who had nothing left.
...She wished she could do the same.
Not that she hasn't been trying, mind. But the harsh truth of having nothing is that it sharply curtails what she can give. All she has is herself, and while she'll gladly spend it to bring up the people around her, she's still a finite resource.
And now she's spent. She has maybe hours left. Hours before she fades away and there is truly nothing left for her to give.
She doesn't fear death.
But it would be a shame if that were the end.
Because there was still so much left to do. So much left to say. So much...
So much other people could say.
Tahara blinks back to reality, her head swimming a little from... something. It's a sensation much like what happens when one stands up too quickly, her brain getting fuzzy briefly as she feels the blood rush back into her head.
Or at least it would, if she had any blood.
Tahara carefully adjusts the papers in front of her, checking for some manner of hint, only to find that mantra in front of her again.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
Why does it have to make so much and so little sense at the same time? It'd be much easier on her if she could either see the meaning clearly or realise it's nonsense and just move on.
The trash witch picks up the paper and turns it this way and that, as though expecting some other clue to present itself, likely with no luck.
...Why is she here, anyway?
The question comes back to her, unbidden. She's not sure where from, but once it's there it's harder to ignore than the riddle in front of her. As much as she wants to focus on the task, her mind just... keeps wandering. Back to the question.
Why is she here?
...
If she's being honest with herself... she doesn't truly know. She wanted to avoid death, yes, but didn't everything?
...
Well... maybe not, actually.
She's not really afraid of the end. A few minutes or hours ago, she was perfectly willing to freeze under a thick blanket of snow, leaving behind less than a corpse. That didn't really sound like a bad way to go, at least not for her. Alone, unmourned, undiscovered, without pain or fear. Quietly forgotten, even by the world itself. Not a moment of fuss over her.
...But she didn't stay. She had the option to simply fade away in the snowstorm and chose to come inside.
For her friends.
Tahara looks down at her arm, watching the roaches skitter over it, increasingly absent-mindedly. She didn't want them to freeze to death outside. They'd been good to her. Kind, even. Offering themselves up for the girl who had nothing left.
...She wished she could do the same.
Not that she hasn't been trying, mind. But the harsh truth of having nothing is that it sharply curtails what she can give. All she has is herself, and while she'll gladly spend it to bring up the people around her, she's still a finite resource.
And now she's spent. She has maybe hours left. Hours before she fades away and there is truly nothing left for her to give.
She doesn't fear death.
But it would be a shame if that were the end.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
-
quillpleasant
- Reborn Elder Poster
- Posts: 1644
- Joined: Feb 27, 2023 7:23 am
- Location: Somewhere cold
- Pronouns: Any
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Finding the LairShadowcaller wrote: ↑Dec 04, 2023 9:44 am Finding the Lair
After that barrage only the leader is still standing. The other guard attempted to parry but the projectile went right through the handle of the glaive and then through their shoulder. Not usually directly lethal but something that can punch through stone essentially pulverizes the guards bones. Nearly completely severing their arm from the rest of their body.
Despite their best efforts this is shortly followed by a cry of pain.
Though in this case this might not even have been needed to trigger a response from the more otherworldly guardians of this place. Since Nathair can spot more of those vague outlines of magic moving towards him, coming from all directions.
He would already be aware that some of them hid underneath, or perhaps within, the enchantments on the floor but now he can see that some of them appears to be flying as well.
As for the final guard, she only survived by dropping to the floor and has now rolled behind a nearby shelf. This means that there's nothing standing between him and the artifact other than the massive gate itself.
The phyrexian laughs as his foes are torn apart. Flesh is so weak, he barely has to try. But his mirth is short lived as his eye swivels around, tracking the oncoming enchantments.
Time is of the essence now. Although Nathair is reasonably sure he can handle any physical threat, the more esoteric security of this library is dangerous, especially in such great numbers. But the danger doesn't bother him.
It's thrilling, in fact. He hasn't had this much fun in ages.
The needles he's fired collapse back into powder, flowing swiftly across the floor to rejoin his body as he strides over to the door. For a moment he considers going after the remaining guard, trying to intimidate her into telling him how the gate opens. But there's no time, and whoever runs this place probably hires guards who don't break easily. No, he'll have to rely on his own talents to secure victory.
Lifting his golden hand, Nathair traces an arcane symbol in the air. Before his compleation he never used this particular tool to its full effect, out of concern for both himself and the people around him. Now, he has no such qualms. His fingers slowly start to curl into a fist as he squeezes any protective enchantments on it, slowly increasing the pressure in an attempt to fracture the magic. Rather than a dispelling effect, this will bend magic until it breaks, transforming it into wild energy. How long that takes, and what effect the wild magic has, depends on how strong the enchantment is.
At the same time, his other hand comes up, morphing into a powerful drill that speeds up with a vicious hum. The nanobots are faster and harder than any steel drill, and can rend through most mundane materials with minimal effort. But without knowing what material this is, Nathair sees no reason to hold back. Lunging forward, he stabs viciously at the gate, driving the drill forward with incredible strength.
horses can attack and eat me
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Overly Adventurous]General Shrimp wrote: ↑Dec 02, 2023 11:11 pm Overly Adventurous
Ah, the great outdoors. So great and...outdoorsy. The sort of place where people go to do outdoors stuff.
And where an adventurer is midway through their adventure.
A modest clearing provides a welcome reprieve from patches of woodland - not overly thick woodland, but still dense enough foliage that it could conceal a dangerous predator or two, just waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting adventurer.
That adventurer is a birdgirl! And she's very happy to be outdoors, doing outdoorsy things. Like adventuring!
Kestrel is dressed in her adventurer getup- a barely-stitched together green jacket and a thin yellow scarf over a brown t shirt, and a pair of darker brown shorts. She has practical brown boots and high green socks. Slung over the the left side of her torso is a leather chest protector, obviously for archery. The bow and hip quiver she carries are giveaways there. She also has a ack on her back, that looks worn enough that it might fall apart at any moment. The one piece of gear or clothing that seems more decorative than practical is a choker around her neck, from which dangles a small golden arrow.
And she's having a great time! Kestrel stretches, letting out a sigh and choosing to pause just for a moment as she enters the clearing. Although, honestly, she doesn't need much of a break right now. She's been travelling plenty, but there has yet to be too much adventure in this adventure of hers. She was hoping she'd run into some soon! In fact, she was so busy being lost in her thoughts, daydreaming about the adventures she hoped to have soon, that she wasn't exactly paying all that much attention to her immediate surroundings.
Bismark wrote:Silence, birb-wench.
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General Shrimp
- Less-Fresh Toddler Poster
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Jan 09, 2023 2:33 pm
- Pronouns: He, Him
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Overly Adventurous
Oh dear, Kestrel really should've kept an eye on her surroundings. As suddenly, with a rustle from a nearby bush, out bursts-
Um.
A mouse!
A hopping mouse, to be precise. With its large back legs, the grey-furred little rodent makes a few hops in Kestrel's direction, whiskers twitching as it sniffs the air and looks up at her.
Well, it seems unusually friendly for a little mouse, but it's just a harmless little rodent, right? There's definitely nothing wrong with its shadow. Nothing at all. Well no, okay, there is something wrong with the shadow. It almost seems to have got snagged on the bush, and stretches out further with each hop the mouse makes. Will our brave birdgirl adventurer notice this oddity, or be too distracted by the cute little mouse?
Oh dear, Kestrel really should've kept an eye on her surroundings. As suddenly, with a rustle from a nearby bush, out bursts-
Um.
A mouse!
A hopping mouse, to be precise. With its large back legs, the grey-furred little rodent makes a few hops in Kestrel's direction, whiskers twitching as it sniffs the air and looks up at her.
Well, it seems unusually friendly for a little mouse, but it's just a harmless little rodent, right? There's definitely nothing wrong with its shadow. Nothing at all. Well no, okay, there is something wrong with the shadow. It almost seems to have got snagged on the bush, and stretches out further with each hop the mouse makes. Will our brave birdgirl adventurer notice this oddity, or be too distracted by the cute little mouse?
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Shadowcaller
- Poster from Beyond the Veil
- Posts: 2926
- Joined: Aug 02, 2022 6:29 am
- Location: Sweden
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Finding the Lairquillpleasant wrote: ↑Dec 05, 2023 6:15 am Finding the Lair
The phyrexian laughs as his foes are torn apart. Flesh is so weak, he barely has to try. But his mirth is short lived as his eye swivels around, tracking the oncoming enchantments.
Time is of the essence now. Although Nathair is reasonably sure he can handle any physical threat, the more esoteric security of this library is dangerous, especially in such great numbers. But the danger doesn't bother him.
It's thrilling, in fact. He hasn't had this much fun in ages.
The needles he's fired collapse back into powder, flowing swiftly across the floor to rejoin his body as he strides over to the door. For a moment he considers going after the remaining guard, trying to intimidate her into telling him how the gate opens. But there's no time, and whoever runs this place probably hires guards who don't break easily. No, he'll have to rely on his own talents to secure victory.
Lifting his golden hand, Nathair traces an arcane symbol in the air. Before his compleation he never used this particular tool to its full effect, out of concern for both himself and the people around him. Now, he has no such qualms. His fingers slowly start to curl into a fist as he squeezes any protective enchantments on it, slowly increasing the pressure in an attempt to fracture the magic. Rather than a dispelling effect, this will bend magic until it breaks, transforming it into wild energy. How long that takes, and what effect the wild magic has, depends on how strong the enchantment is.
At the same time, his other hand comes up, morphing into a powerful drill that speeds up with a vicious hum. The nanobots are faster and harder than any steel drill, and can rend through most mundane materials with minimal effort. But without knowing what material this is, Nathair sees no reason to hold back. Lunging forward, he stabs viciously at the gate, driving the drill forward with incredible strength.
He's laughing now? Look whose already forgotten about the library rules.
But he's already broken several of time so he might as well shoot for the record now, right?
However, as he starts drilling into the door he will notice that it isn't actually enchanted. Or at least not in the way Nathair thinks. Since rather than magical energy being bent the door takes the vague semblance of a face and screams.
"CURATORS, ASSEMBLE! DOORMONGUS DECLARES THAT THIS KNAVE MUST NOT PASS!"
Despite not being able to grind up any enchantments from the door he has already started to make relatively quick progress through it despite the tough black stone it's made up of.
But those 'curators' are quickly approaching and at this point Nathair will know that they can both come at him from above and below. Especially considering how much noise he's now making.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Silent Sepulcher]
There comes a recollection.
A vision, perhaps?
Of a conversation that Tahara never had, nor had she ever heard, yet some of the voices might seem familiar as they echo in her mind. A memory not her own. Most of the words are muddled, as if heard underwater. But some ring clear.
So in some stories a flaming sword guards the way to Paradise. But the thing with flaming swords is that they cut AND they burn. And that sword passes over everyone who approaches the Empyrean. It cuts away the dead and burns away the impure and for a lotta people that means there's nothing left when it's done.
A connection, maybe? Whatever force dwells here is reaching through the connections Tahara has to others to provide her with a warning.
What does Tahara possess that could endure the sword of judgement? Does she have a Path that could survive that burning gaze?
There comes a recollection.
A vision, perhaps?
Of a conversation that Tahara never had, nor had she ever heard, yet some of the voices might seem familiar as they echo in her mind. A memory not her own. Most of the words are muddled, as if heard underwater. But some ring clear.
So in some stories a flaming sword guards the way to Paradise. But the thing with flaming swords is that they cut AND they burn. And that sword passes over everyone who approaches the Empyrean. It cuts away the dead and burns away the impure and for a lotta people that means there's nothing left when it's done.
A connection, maybe? Whatever force dwells here is reaching through the connections Tahara has to others to provide her with a warning.
What does Tahara possess that could endure the sword of judgement? Does she have a Path that could survive that burning gaze?
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Halae
- Coffin-Bound Aged Poster
- Posts: 811
- Joined: Dec 24, 2022 11:35 pm
- Location: A chill white land
- Pronouns: She/Her
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[The Ruined Observatory]Rebonack wrote: ↑Dec 03, 2023 8:34 pm [The Ruined Observatory]
Breaking fate isn't beyond the realm of possibility. Stars are, after all, intimately tied with fate. And this place seems to have been created with the goal of meddling in the heavens. There don't appear to be any monsters outside the tower. In fact, there isn't any indication that the influence of the tower has leaked beyond it. Which is probably for the best.
"I only looked around the top part that's fallen over," Khannie reports to the others as she takes a deep breath and allows her illusionary disguise to completely fade to darkness. Under the illusion she's a unicorn, more deer-like in appearance than horse-like. Her face has a vaguely humanoid characteristic to it, with a large brain and big intelligent eyes. It's amply obvious that she's not a beast. If they're going to be going into danger she needs one-hundred percent of her power at call. She can't be wasting anything on vanities like her human disguise.
When she speaks again it's with ghost-sounds that she matches up pretty well with mouth movements. Without a human vocal apparatus she can only make deer noises. She's roughly the size of a reindeer juvenile, so probably a little bit smaller than Heip's good buddy.
"It looked mostly normal until I got inside it," the unicorn reports, her ears swiveling this way and that in search of threatening sounds. "I mean, except for the jittery two places at once thing. That's weird. I mean like it got REALLY weird once I got inside. Like space was all bent and stretched. I didn't go inside the rest of the tower. It feels like whatever happened here happened in the basement; that's where the corruption feels the strongest."
Well.
That leaves our heroes with a choice.
Check out the upper portion of the tower in greater detail? The snarled web of fate isn't as tangled there.
Venture into the middle floors? That's unexplored but more dangerous.
Or descend into the basement where the occult ritual was carried out and where reality itself has caved in on itself?
Skye considers for a long moment, before nodding to herself, "I would like to check the basement. I can protect myself from unreality, though I haven't attempted to do the same with allies before," she says, looking to her two companions, "The source of the corruption should be dealt with if at all possible."
For all that she's a horribly cursed monstrosity, she's still got a job to do, and that job is protecting people from the supernatural.
Halae#9979 on Discord if you need me. I'm forgetful, so don't be afraid to ping me asking me to get to posting.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Silent Sepulcher]
There was a time when Tahara might have been able to answer that question clearly and confidently. Of course she did. She was chosen for her purity. She's saved more people than she could count and would go on to save so many more. Her very being was so inextricably tied to the notion of self-sacrifice and the preservation of good that she could use it to look into the future. How could she not have a Path?
...But now?
Now she's not so sure. She's not the same person she was all those years ago. The magic remains, but her intentions... they've led her to some pretty dark places. She can only wince as she remembers the circumstance Olympia found her in not so long ago, and cringe even harder when she rolls back the clock and thinks about how long she'd been doing that and why.
Whatever she was before, she most certainly isn't pure anymore. And she never will be again.
...
She still wants to help.
Does that count for anything? It probably doesn't. "Helping" means a lot of different things to different people. Especially since she wasn't entirely clear what she wants to help do. Without direction she's not much better than a parasite, attaching herself to someone so she can feel good without actually contributing to their lives in any meaningful way.
So she helps.
But helps with what?
The trash witch has to dig a bit more for that. There... had to be some kind of underlying pattern, right? Something she's fought for without actually putting a name to it?
She helped Cat come back from the brink of witchdom.
She helped Sekhmet with her succubi subjects, offering a piece of herself for the requisite ritual.
She offered her assistance to Olympia for helping the remaining magical girls, though Khannie didn't really seem to take her up on the offer. The intent was there... that had to count for something, right?
She helped Mat the squirrel rescue her brother from the Sinners' arena.
And she's fought Jubilee more than once, to keep her from making monsters of her own.
What did these all have in common? What was she doing all this time?
...These... these people were going to suffer if she hadn't intervened. Jubilee's monsters were twisted horrors, filled with rage and fear. The Witches, easily as much so. The succubi, locked into a life of debauchery they didn't really want. And Mat's brother, she helped remove from a situation that could have very easily killed him. She kept them from pain.
...No. Not from pain. They were going to get hurt anyway and she clearly didn't have any problems with inflicting it herself.
But she did give them... something. Some way out of the horrible situations they'd found themselves in. A fighting chance.
What was it? Was there a word for it?
There was a time when Tahara might have been able to answer that question clearly and confidently. Of course she did. She was chosen for her purity. She's saved more people than she could count and would go on to save so many more. Her very being was so inextricably tied to the notion of self-sacrifice and the preservation of good that she could use it to look into the future. How could she not have a Path?
...But now?
Now she's not so sure. She's not the same person she was all those years ago. The magic remains, but her intentions... they've led her to some pretty dark places. She can only wince as she remembers the circumstance Olympia found her in not so long ago, and cringe even harder when she rolls back the clock and thinks about how long she'd been doing that and why.
Whatever she was before, she most certainly isn't pure anymore. And she never will be again.
...
She still wants to help.
Does that count for anything? It probably doesn't. "Helping" means a lot of different things to different people. Especially since she wasn't entirely clear what she wants to help do. Without direction she's not much better than a parasite, attaching herself to someone so she can feel good without actually contributing to their lives in any meaningful way.
So she helps.
But helps with what?
The trash witch has to dig a bit more for that. There... had to be some kind of underlying pattern, right? Something she's fought for without actually putting a name to it?
She helped Cat come back from the brink of witchdom.
She helped Sekhmet with her succubi subjects, offering a piece of herself for the requisite ritual.
She offered her assistance to Olympia for helping the remaining magical girls, though Khannie didn't really seem to take her up on the offer. The intent was there... that had to count for something, right?
She helped Mat the squirrel rescue her brother from the Sinners' arena.
And she's fought Jubilee more than once, to keep her from making monsters of her own.
What did these all have in common? What was she doing all this time?
...These... these people were going to suffer if she hadn't intervened. Jubilee's monsters were twisted horrors, filled with rage and fear. The Witches, easily as much so. The succubi, locked into a life of debauchery they didn't really want. And Mat's brother, she helped remove from a situation that could have very easily killed him. She kept them from pain.
...No. Not from pain. They were going to get hurt anyway and she clearly didn't have any problems with inflicting it herself.
But she did give them... something. Some way out of the horrible situations they'd found themselves in. A fighting chance.
What was it? Was there a word for it?
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[The Ruined Observatory]
"I can resist reality-warping pretty well. That's why I got the job at PREP." Technically true. "I say we start at the top and work our way down. And if we run into anything particularly dangerous, I take the lead."
"I can resist reality-warping pretty well. That's why I got the job at PREP." Technically true. "I say we start at the top and work our way down. And if we run into anything particularly dangerous, I take the lead."
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quillpleasant
- Reborn Elder Poster
- Posts: 1644
- Joined: Feb 27, 2023 7:23 am
- Location: Somewhere cold
- Pronouns: Any
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Nathair's golden eye blinks as the door roars into life. What a strange enchantment. But if there's no protective wards, then he couldn't care less if the door is alive or not. All that matters is getting through it, and if he kills some annoying animated object, bonus.Shadowcaller wrote: ↑Dec 05, 2023 1:23 pm Finding the Lair
He's laughing now? Look whose already forgotten about the library rules.
But he's already broken several of time so he might as well shoot for the record now, right?
However, as he starts drilling into the door he will notice that it isn't actually enchanted. Or at least not in the way Nathair thinks. Since rather than magical energy being bent the door takes the vague semblance of a face and screams.
"CURATORS, ASSEMBLE! DOORMONGUS DECLARES THAT THIS KNAVE MUST NOT PASS!"
Despite not being able to grind up any enchantments from the door he has already started to make relatively quick progress through it despite the tough black stone it's made up of.
But those 'curators' are quickly approaching and at this point Nathair will know that they can both come at him from above and below. Especially considering how much noise he's now making.
The drill lengthens and thins. Drilling a thinner hole should go faster, and if there's even a crack then he can flow on through. But clearly the curators are going to get to him before he gets there, so it's time to split again.
His drill-arm detaches from his body, stretching out tendrils to anchor itself on the door as it continues boring. Meanwhile, Nathair turns, bringing up his golden hand. Since there's no wards to break, he can make some instead.
He draws in the air, leaving faint traces of gold behind. Under his breath he intones a litany against intrusion, one designed to be especially effective against spirits. With a deep hum, a barely visible bubble of golden light is brought up around him, with a diameter of around fifteen feet. It's intangible, reaching through the floor, but will act like sticky glue to anything passing through, incorporeal or not, slowing and entrapping them. Stronger entities should be able to tear through, but all he needs is time, and he's already starting to weave yet another spell.
horses can attack and eat me
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Shadowcaller
- Poster from Beyond the Veil
- Posts: 2926
- Joined: Aug 02, 2022 6:29 am
- Location: Sweden
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Finding the Lair
No enchantments? Then Nathair have clearly missed something.
"HO! THOU DRILL IS NO MATCH FOR DOORMONGUS! BEHOLD!"
And suddenly the doors appearance shift, becoming what looks like human pecs which somehow make the door significantly harder to drill through. It's not an enchantment it's just... nonsense or sheer willpower.
"DOORMONGUS PECS HAVE GUARDED THIS LIBRARY FOR GENERATIONS!"
Meanwhile, the spirits start to reach the line of protection Nathair has drawn. They appear to be able to tell just what significance it has and stop just outside it. He can't see their forms as he can only make out the magic they're made up of but he can hear whispers.
"The master... will be here... your death... will be here..."
"Let us feed... give yourself to us..."
You can enter... but you cannot leave..."
No enchantments? Then Nathair have clearly missed something.
"HO! THOU DRILL IS NO MATCH FOR DOORMONGUS! BEHOLD!"
And suddenly the doors appearance shift, becoming what looks like human pecs which somehow make the door significantly harder to drill through. It's not an enchantment it's just... nonsense or sheer willpower.
"DOORMONGUS PECS HAVE GUARDED THIS LIBRARY FOR GENERATIONS!"
Meanwhile, the spirits start to reach the line of protection Nathair has drawn. They appear to be able to tell just what significance it has and stop just outside it. He can't see their forms as he can only make out the magic they're made up of but he can hear whispers.
"The master... will be here... your death... will be here..."
"Let us feed... give yourself to us..."
You can enter... but you cannot leave..."
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[The Ruined Observatory]
Ah, a difference of opinion!
Skye wants to jump straight into the most dangerous part of the dungeon.
Mai the totally normal janitor wants to start at the top so they have a chance to acclimate to the dangers.
Khannie glances between both. "I think starting at the top of the tower and retracing my steps from yesterday isn't a bad idea. I dunno exactly what it was I fought in there but I know it was pretty bad. We can prolly find some clues along the way about the nature of what the wizard did here. Maybe a way to undo it?"
Sounds like it's a two to one vote.
But will Skye be willing to agree with the others?
[The Silent Sepulcher]
There is no reply to Tahara's mental writhing.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
Ah, a difference of opinion!
Skye wants to jump straight into the most dangerous part of the dungeon.
Mai the totally normal janitor wants to start at the top so they have a chance to acclimate to the dangers.
Khannie glances between both. "I think starting at the top of the tower and retracing my steps from yesterday isn't a bad idea. I dunno exactly what it was I fought in there but I know it was pretty bad. We can prolly find some clues along the way about the nature of what the wizard did here. Maybe a way to undo it?"
Sounds like it's a two to one vote.
But will Skye be willing to agree with the others?
[The Silent Sepulcher]
There is no reply to Tahara's mental writhing.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[The Silent Sepulcher]
...It doesn't really matter if there's a word for it, does it? Tahara knows what she's trying to do.
...Or rather, what she tried to do. She's not doing much of anything up here.
The trash witch slowly shuffles back to the bench she chose and sits again, staring up at the mantra.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
Just as vague and cryptic as it was before she started.
Tahara sighs, closes her eyes, and simply sits there, folding her arms neatly in her lap. Maybe some insight as to the words' meaning will come to her if she sits here and ponders it long enough. Or maybe she'll expire before she figures it out. The few hours she has left isn't long enough to get back to civilization, so she's not going to be able to leave if whatever's stored here doesn't help her in any meaningful way.
...Oh.
Maybe that's the question she should have been answering.
Why did she want help in the first place?
For all the high-and-holy altruistic stuff she had going through her head a few minutes ago, none of that was really there on her trip to the Sepulcher. She wasn't thinking about how many people she could help as she trudged through the snow. Her thoughts when she knelt in front of this temple had nothing to do with how many people needed her and how she'd planned to intercede on their behalf.
She just... came here.
Because she doesn't want to go yet.
...patter
Tahara involuntarily shudders as some of the roaches under her eyes lose their grip and fall into her hands, her shoulders starting to shake as the weight of the realization hits her.
She doesn't want to go.
She's not done.
She isn't ready to fade away.
She knows that's the wrong answer. That she shouldn't be afraid of what comes next. She shouldn't mind being forgotten, because that means she isn't weighing on anybody else. She shouldn't want mourners, shouldn't be clinging to these last moments of life like they're all she has left because they aren't, she'll still be around in some form...
But she does want that. She wishes she didn't have to be alone in her last moments. She wishes somebody would remember her. She doesn't want her legacy to be a roach infestation in a forgotten temple somewhere. Surely she amounted to more than-
She can't hold it in anymore. Even as oppressively silent as the Sepulcher is, as much as it demands to not be disturbed, Tahara lets out a loud, ugly sob, burying her face in her hands.
...That was it.
She wasn't going to pass whatever test the makers of this place wanted to put in front of her.
She wasn't worthy. And all the good intentions in the world wouldn't make the difference.
...It doesn't really matter if there's a word for it, does it? Tahara knows what she's trying to do.
...Or rather, what she tried to do. She's not doing much of anything up here.
The trash witch slowly shuffles back to the bench she chose and sits again, staring up at the mantra.
Silence above. Silence below. Stillness within. Stillness without.
Just as vague and cryptic as it was before she started.
Tahara sighs, closes her eyes, and simply sits there, folding her arms neatly in her lap. Maybe some insight as to the words' meaning will come to her if she sits here and ponders it long enough. Or maybe she'll expire before she figures it out. The few hours she has left isn't long enough to get back to civilization, so she's not going to be able to leave if whatever's stored here doesn't help her in any meaningful way.
...Oh.
Maybe that's the question she should have been answering.
Why did she want help in the first place?
For all the high-and-holy altruistic stuff she had going through her head a few minutes ago, none of that was really there on her trip to the Sepulcher. She wasn't thinking about how many people she could help as she trudged through the snow. Her thoughts when she knelt in front of this temple had nothing to do with how many people needed her and how she'd planned to intercede on their behalf.
She just... came here.
Because she doesn't want to go yet.
...patter
Tahara involuntarily shudders as some of the roaches under her eyes lose their grip and fall into her hands, her shoulders starting to shake as the weight of the realization hits her.
She doesn't want to go.
She's not done.
She isn't ready to fade away.
She knows that's the wrong answer. That she shouldn't be afraid of what comes next. She shouldn't mind being forgotten, because that means she isn't weighing on anybody else. She shouldn't want mourners, shouldn't be clinging to these last moments of life like they're all she has left because they aren't, she'll still be around in some form...
But she does want that. She wishes she didn't have to be alone in her last moments. She wishes somebody would remember her. She doesn't want her legacy to be a roach infestation in a forgotten temple somewhere. Surely she amounted to more than-
She can't hold it in anymore. Even as oppressively silent as the Sepulcher is, as much as it demands to not be disturbed, Tahara lets out a loud, ugly sob, burying her face in her hands.
...That was it.
She wasn't going to pass whatever test the makers of this place wanted to put in front of her.
She wasn't worthy. And all the good intentions in the world wouldn't make the difference.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[The Silent Sepulchre]
Tahara makes a sound.
Here, in this place, a noise. Pathetic though it is, there is an immediate answer.
Another sound, like cracking ice.
When Tahara lifts her head again the doors are open.
Beyond the doors stretches a hallway of completely mundane, though ornate, paneled wood. It quickly opens up into a domed chamber with a well at the center full to the brim with liquid firmament rippling like someone poured out the night sky. Surrounding the chamber are four doors carved from the daytime sky each with inscriptions above them.
Silence above
Silence below
Stillness within
Stillness without
Tahara makes a sound.
Here, in this place, a noise. Pathetic though it is, there is an immediate answer.
Another sound, like cracking ice.
When Tahara lifts her head again the doors are open.
Beyond the doors stretches a hallway of completely mundane, though ornate, paneled wood. It quickly opens up into a domed chamber with a well at the center full to the brim with liquid firmament rippling like someone poured out the night sky. Surrounding the chamber are four doors carved from the daytime sky each with inscriptions above them.
Silence above
Silence below
Stillness within
Stillness without
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Silent Sepulcher]
...Wait, what?
Tahara sits up, hands still over her nose and mouth, looking at the now-open door. What on earth was it that prompted it to open?
Did... did she just have to make a sound?
Was it really just as simple as that?
Tahara sniffles and shakes her head. It doesn't seem like it'll be all that productive to speculate. The temple is letting her move inside. Apparently its makers had some other idea of what constitutes "worthiness", or she was reading far too much into a relatively simple opening mechanism.
...She might as well see what's in there. In a few hours it won't really matter.
The trash witch steps forward into the room, her eyes immediately drawn to the deconstructed mantra over the four doors.
It seems to her that they're offering an explanation of some kind. A demonstration of what each part of the mantra means, beyond what's readily apparent.
She decides to start with the first door. "Silence Above." No sense in starting anywhere but the beginning.
...Wait, what?
Tahara sits up, hands still over her nose and mouth, looking at the now-open door. What on earth was it that prompted it to open?
Did... did she just have to make a sound?
Was it really just as simple as that?
Tahara sniffles and shakes her head. It doesn't seem like it'll be all that productive to speculate. The temple is letting her move inside. Apparently its makers had some other idea of what constitutes "worthiness", or she was reading far too much into a relatively simple opening mechanism.
...She might as well see what's in there. In a few hours it won't really matter.
The trash witch steps forward into the room, her eyes immediately drawn to the deconstructed mantra over the four doors.
It seems to her that they're offering an explanation of some kind. A demonstration of what each part of the mantra means, beyond what's readily apparent.
She decides to start with the first door. "Silence Above." No sense in starting anywhere but the beginning.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
-
quillpleasant
- Reborn Elder Poster
- Posts: 1644
- Joined: Feb 27, 2023 7:23 am
- Location: Somewhere cold
- Pronouns: Any
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Well, this is rapidly becoming more of a problem than Nathair anticipated. An impassable door, an army of spirits, and likely a dragon before too long. For a moment he considers giving up, fleeing while he still can.Shadowcaller wrote: ↑Dec 05, 2023 10:10 pm Finding the Lair
No enchantments? Then Nathair have clearly missed something.
"HO! THOU DRILL IS NO MATCH FOR DOORMONGUS! BEHOLD!"
And suddenly the doors appearance shift, becoming what looks like human pecs which somehow make the door significantly harder to drill through. It's not an enchantment it's just... nonsense or sheer willpower.
"DOORMONGUS PECS HAVE GUARDED THIS LIBRARY FOR GENERATIONS!"
Meanwhile, the spirits start to reach the line of protection Nathair has drawn. They appear to be able to tell just what significance it has and stop just outside it. He can't see their forms as he can only make out the magic they're made up of but he can hear whispers.
"The master... will be here... your death... will be here..."
"Let us feed... give yourself to us..."
You can enter... but you cannot leave..."
Then he thinks of Ilpholin's face. Seeing a look of disappointment from her would be more terrible than any of the difficulties he currently faces. And with that motivation, he redoubles his efforts.
Since the spirits are at least temporarily stymied by his ward, Nathair turns back to the door. "I've conquered countless civilizations, bent entire star systems to my will. You? You're just a roadblock." His mouth splits in a horrible, bloody grin. "If your master shows up, I'll devour them. For now, you'll have to do."
And with that, he discorporates, unleashing his most terrible attack.
Although he acts as a single being, Nathair is made of millions of microscopic bots. Each one is capable of a unique form of self replication- the ability to devour substances on a molecular level, reconfiguring them into more nanobots. In its simplest form, this allows him to absorb inanimate objects to heal himself or replace pieces that he leaves behind. But when used offensively, this lets him essentially melt through his foes, repairing himself as they're devoured.
Harder materials take longer to convert. However, he has an advantage in that part of him is already lodged within Doormongus. The drill turns into a cloud, eating away at all sides of the hole even as the rest of Nathair flows after it, compressing into the space and increasing the rate at which he can consume Doormungus' stony flesh. His gold hand, floating in the midst of the swarm, adds its own powerful telekinetic force to the attack in an all out attempt to break through into the vault.
horses can attack and eat me
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Overly AdventurousGeneral Shrimp wrote: ↑Dec 05, 2023 9:40 am Overly Adventurous
Oh dear, Kestrel really should've kept an eye on her surroundings. As suddenly, with a rustle from a nearby bush, out bursts-
Um.
A mouse!
A hopping mouse, to be precise. With its large back legs, the grey-furred little rodent makes a few hops in Kestrel's direction, whiskers twitching as it sniffs the air and looks up at her.
Well, it seems unusually friendly for a little mouse, but it's just a harmless little rodent, right? There's definitely nothing wrong with its shadow. Nothing at all. Well no, okay, there is something wrong with the shadow. It almost seems to have got snagged on the bush, and stretches out further with each hop the mouse makes. Will our brave birdgirl adventurer notice this oddity, or be too distracted by the cute little mouse?
"Oh! Hey little buddy!" Kestrel leaned forwards, reaching an arm out. "You sure startled me. You're remarkably friendly! C'mere." She beckoned excitedly. Then she paused, blinking. Something was off, although she couldn't quite place it. She tilted her head, staring at the cute rodent as she tried to figure out what was ever-so-slightly unsettling her about it.
Bismark wrote:Silence, birb-wench.
-
Earl of Purple
- Transcendent Soul Poster
- Posts: 2118
- Joined: Aug 01, 2022 3:59 pm
- Location: Amongst the Folk from the North
- Pronouns: He/Him
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Little Sattleborough
"I do. Nobody's lived in Greater Sattleborough for twenty years, though. It's on the other side of the hills, across a river. There used to be a bridge, but we demolished it after the Juggernaut attacked. It seems to have worked, it hasn't crossed the river, but that might just be because it hasn't noticed us here." Samantha's brother gestures in a direction, and if Jubilee puts the map down he'll point at a spot just off the map, on the other side of a river to Greater Sattleborough.
"I do. Nobody's lived in Greater Sattleborough for twenty years, though. It's on the other side of the hills, across a river. There used to be a bridge, but we demolished it after the Juggernaut attacked. It seems to have worked, it hasn't crossed the river, but that might just be because it hasn't noticed us here." Samantha's brother gestures in a direction, and if Jubilee puts the map down he'll point at a spot just off the map, on the other side of a river to Greater Sattleborough.
Avatar provided by Happyturtle. Still using it, after all these years.
Don't run now, my eggs are hatching.
Don't run now, my eggs are hatching.
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Little Sattleborough]
Oh that's so much worse.
Jubilee frowns and leans against the bar, watching him expectantly for a moment, before finally saying, "Are you going to make me actually ask you what the hell 'the Juggernaut' is? Actually, don't answer that."
The witch slaps her palm down on the counter, a flame appearing on the palm of her hand, growing to envelop it. She stares into it as she invokes her pyromancy, looking to see the what the nature of this Calamity was.
Oh that's so much worse.
Jubilee frowns and leans against the bar, watching him expectantly for a moment, before finally saying, "Are you going to make me actually ask you what the hell 'the Juggernaut' is? Actually, don't answer that."
The witch slaps her palm down on the counter, a flame appearing on the palm of her hand, growing to envelop it. She stares into it as she invokes her pyromancy, looking to see the what the nature of this Calamity was.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
-
General Shrimp
- Less-Fresh Toddler Poster
- Posts: 92
- Joined: Jan 09, 2023 2:33 pm
- Pronouns: He, Him
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Overly Adventurous
The little mouse looks up at Kestrel. It hesitantly shuffles back very slightly, tilting its head slightly and twitching its whiskers and-
There's a faint rush of wind.
The shadow moves, suddenly distorting, stretching out, and sweeping round behind Kestrel, as a shadowy claw bursts forth and slashes at her back.
Seems that little mouse isn't so friendly after all.
The little mouse looks up at Kestrel. It hesitantly shuffles back very slightly, tilting its head slightly and twitching its whiskers and-
There's a faint rush of wind.
The shadow moves, suddenly distorting, stretching out, and sweeping round behind Kestrel, as a shadowy claw bursts forth and slashes at her back.
Seems that little mouse isn't so friendly after all.
-
Shadowcaller
- Poster from Beyond the Veil
- Posts: 2926
- Joined: Aug 02, 2022 6:29 am
- Location: Sweden
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
[Fighting The Lair]quillpleasant wrote: ↑Dec 07, 2023 5:38 am Well, this is rapidly becoming more of a problem than Nathair anticipated. An impassable door, an army of spirits, and likely a dragon before too long. For a moment he considers giving up, fleeing while he still can.
Then he thinks of Ilpholin's face. Seeing a look of disappointment from her would be more terrible than any of the difficulties he currently faces. And with that motivation, he redoubles his efforts.
Since the spirits are at least temporarily stymied by his ward, Nathair turns back to the door. "I've conquered countless civilizations, bent entire star systems to my will. You? You're just a roadblock." His mouth splits in a horrible, bloody grin. "If your master shows up, I'll devour them. For now, you'll have to do."
And with that, he discorporates, unleashing his most terrible attack.
Although he acts as a single being, Nathair is made of millions of microscopic bots. Each one is capable of a unique form of self replication- the ability to devour substances on a molecular level, reconfiguring them into more nanobots. In its simplest form, this allows him to absorb inanimate objects to heal himself or replace pieces that he leaves behind. But when used offensively, this lets him essentially melt through his foes, repairing himself as they're devoured.
Harder materials take longer to convert. However, he has an advantage in that part of him is already lodged within Doormongus. The drill turns into a cloud, eating away at all sides of the hole even as the rest of Nathair flows after it, compressing into the space and increasing the rate at which he can consume Doormungus' stony flesh. His gold hand, floating in the midst of the swarm, adds its own powerful telekinetic force to the attack in an all out attempt to break through into the vault.
Less of an army and more of a gang of spirits so far, a dozen at most assuming that the one underground is here too. Though not that much time has passed so there might be more coming.
However, what might be more concerning than their numbers is the fact that some of the stone tiles that the ward has been placed on now start to slowly shift which will break the circle that Nathair have drawn around himself.
But before any of the spirits can start take advantage of this the phyrexian is able to start consuming the door. Or Doormongus. It's not clear if the door is the spirits body or if it's just inhabiting it.
"WHAT IS THIS? THE KNAVE CONSUMES DOORMUNGUS ABS? HO! AT LEAST THOU KNOW HOW TO DINE WELL!"
Assuming that Nathair is simply trying to go straight through the door, he will eventually start reach the other side of it. Considering how absolutely massive it is, it would be a relatively tiny unless Nathair spend time and effort into making it wider.
There is one problem though as the artifact he's looking for isn't right on the other side of the door. Since it turns out that behind the massive door is a massive hall. One that has a bridge crossing an actual pool of books. Though 'pool' is selling it short considering that it looks to be made up of thousands, perhaps millions, of books. A frankly unfeasible amount that raises in great mountainous piles that then dip into vast valleys. Like something straight out of a dream.
Yet there it is and if his magical sight is correct, the artifact should be somewhere at the bottom of it.
-
quillpleasant
- Reborn Elder Poster
- Posts: 1644
- Joined: Feb 27, 2023 7:23 am
- Location: Somewhere cold
- Pronouns: Any
Re: Outside: Grass touch place
Finding the Lair
Nathair's single minded pursuit of his goal is a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that it's given him the determination to force his way through the door, but a curse in that he doesn't stop to worry about pursuit, or a way out. Time for that later.
He makes no effort to widen the gap beyond what is needed for his hand to pass through, nor does he tarry to maintain his spirit barrier. Instead, the moment he's through, he darts quickly off down the hall, not even bothering to regain a coherent shape.
Were Nathair here on a less desperate mission, he might have been awestruck by this ocean of words, or curious about how such a place came to be. But such emotions are trivial in the face of his bullheaded instincts. He hovers over until he's just around directly over where he can sense the artifact before dropping down.
A small rational part of (literally) stays behind. A cloud just big enough for his hand and eye to float over the books and keep an eye on things. The rest of him turns to a liquid consistency, flowing rapidly down between the books. Although he could use his telekinesis to move them, this method would undoubtedly be faster. He's so close, he can almost taste it.
Nathair's single minded pursuit of his goal is a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that it's given him the determination to force his way through the door, but a curse in that he doesn't stop to worry about pursuit, or a way out. Time for that later.
He makes no effort to widen the gap beyond what is needed for his hand to pass through, nor does he tarry to maintain his spirit barrier. Instead, the moment he's through, he darts quickly off down the hall, not even bothering to regain a coherent shape.
Were Nathair here on a less desperate mission, he might have been awestruck by this ocean of words, or curious about how such a place came to be. But such emotions are trivial in the face of his bullheaded instincts. He hovers over until he's just around directly over where he can sense the artifact before dropping down.
A small rational part of (literally) stays behind. A cloud just big enough for his hand and eye to float over the books and keep an eye on things. The rest of him turns to a liquid consistency, flowing rapidly down between the books. Although he could use his telekinesis to move them, this method would undoubtedly be faster. He's so close, he can almost taste it.
horses can attack and eat me