[X] Give Makram some attention. He's all but pawing at your ankles and you're slightly concerned he'll start finding more dramatic ways to try and make the conversation all about him if you don't nip this in the bud. Maybe follow up on some of his pointed comments.
He's been hinting at us and we didn't notice. Maybe he has other interesting insights for us, like dating advice perhaps? 'Cause I dunno about y'all, but I have less than a full clue about how to balance a harem.
[X] Give Makram some attention. He's all but pawing at your ankles and you're slightly concerned he'll start finding more dramatic ways to try and make the conversation all about him if you don't nip this in the bud. Maybe follow up on some of his pointed comments.
Aside from the great comedy (as expected of Zerban), the incredible challenge of managing a Harem, that worldbuilding when I first encountered this is
EDIT: years on SV and I still can't manage an image
[X] Brainstorm better riddles and/or puzzles for the entry chamber. Odds are equal or better that Abzu will take it as an attempt to help over another criticism and get defensive again, and maybe this way Makram will be snide and constructive.
True riddles are hard at first but obvious once you know the answer. Like "What's name of the true treasure in the citadel?"
[X] Give Makram some attention. He's all but pawing at your ankles and you're slightly concerned he'll start finding more dramatic ways to try and make the conversation all about him if you don't nip this in the bud. Maybe follow up on some of his pointed comments.
He's like a cat. He can even fit into impossibly tiny spaces, like a lamp, or under Eldingar's skin. If you don't give him attention when he demands it, it's only going to cause problems later down the line.
Though I really do want to help Abzu, they are a treasure.
This is probably linked to Makram's genuine dislike of wizards, and also whatever is up with Abzu and what they are, exactly.
[X] Brainstorm better riddles and/or puzzles for the entry chamber. Odds are equal or better that Abzu will take it as an attempt to help over another criticism and get defensive again, and maybe this way Makram will be snide and constructive.
Showing up and straight up ignoring our host is all kinds of rude, though admittedly a fairly Eldingar thing to do.
[x] Give Makram some attention. He's all but pawing at your ankles and you're slightly concerned he'll start finding more dramatic ways to try and make the conversation all about him if you don't nip this in the bud. Maybe follow up on some of his pointed comments.
give the twinkie some attention and maybe he'll take us to the hostess factory.
With great reluctance, you turn and acknowledge Makram's presence.
"You seem like you have something you'd like to add," you say.
"Who? Me?" Makram asks, hand over his heart, the very picture of innocence. "What might a poor, meek djinn such as myself have to contribute to this meeting of minds?"
You just look at him. He pumps one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth upturned. You suppress the urge to sigh.
"Would you please tell us everything you remember about the world from before you were imprisoned in your lamp?" you ask, trying not to sound too bored. "Anything at all you remember would likely be invaluable from a scholarly standpoint."
"A little overwrought but I'll take it," he replies loftily. "You see, while a djinn's memory is naturally spotty after ten millennia's slumber, bits and pieces do remain, becoming clearer or fainter depending on the day. I, for one, still recall an era in which the horizon was indeed quite an achievable goal."
[Really!?] Abzu's eyes widen like saucers.
"Indeed." The ifrit's eyes lazily drift shut as he almost daintily rests his golden talons on his sternum. "For in those ancient days when the sky above had no name the Beyond's purpose was already served by my kind. It was a golden empire of paradise, the peoples' every whims catered to by fleets of djinn who carved rivers and moved mountains. Why, I could have rearranged the very stars in the heavens above had my master wished it."
[You mean your people lived before the Beyond!?] Abzu signs excitedly, scuttling past you to get closer to Makram. [What else do you remember?] [What was it like?] [How many types of djinn are there?] [Where could I find some more, for research purposes?] [Do you know when and how the Beyond was formed?] [Did you have the black water in your time?]
"Please, please," Makram says, gently patting at the air as if to soothe Abzu's burning enthusiasm. Or at lest get them to stop whipping out signs quite so fast. "My recollection sometimes even changes moment by moment, such is the fog of ages." He polishes his golden talons on his chest. "But one thing I can say is that you shan't find a more fluent translator of old-world script alive."
[That's incredible! I absolutely must show you some of the artefacts I've found! ] Abzu pauses, as if scrutinising the ifrit. [You know if you wanted me to pay attention to you you could've just led with that.]
Makram stills mid-motion. "Beg pardon?"
[Call it a new riddle :3]
Makram desperately suppresses a frown and you suppress the urge to point and laugh in kind. Abzu takes a few steps back so the two of you can get an equal view of their signs.
[But we're gonna be seeing plenty of each other anyway so I won't keep you up!] [Come on, it's getting late and I think we've all had pretty long days.] [And you have that big flight back home in the morning!]
Abzu leaves and you follow with a vague mumble of assent. Once more they gesture arcanely at the locking mechanism and when it opens it leads to an entirely new room. This one doesn't even have the teleport gates to spruce it up, it's nothing but bare stone lit by pure white orbs hovering a foot below the ceiling. It practically has 'blank room' chiselled into the floor. Abzu strides forward, shaking their gloved hands from their sleeves to warm up.
They don't create it all out of thin air like you half-expected, but the show is no less impressive for it. You're impressed hard and early as a portal opens in the ceiling and a massive torrent of gold pours forth like a burst pipe, heavy coins ringing and jingling as they bounce and roll across the solid stone floor. Abzu glances over their shoulder at you once or twice, perhaps gauging how big you'll be in your true form based on your current height. When they finally cut the money off at the source you must grudgingly admit, while it's not as big as you'd like it's bigger than you hoped.
"... is that real?" you ask, unable to help yourself.
[Yep.] Abzu signs over their shoulder. [And no you can't have it.]
"Wh- I- I would never!" you sputter indignantly. "No dragon would ever stoop so low as to ask for a... handout!"
But you can't help picturing all that lovely gold raining down onto your diminished pile, imagine how it would glitter, how it would shine, oh just to imagine the jingling... You cough into your fist and tell yourself to behave. Besides, there's no way you'd get it all back to your spire without bullying either Abzu or Makram into teleporting it. Or maybe rooting around for a Bag of Holding. You should really invest in one of those. And maybe if you want it hard enough that stupid map will show you money instead of men.
While you're preoccupied, Abzu brings in the finishing touches - sleeping bags and matching floor mats, laid out beside the treasure pile in a rough 'circle'. They stand in the centre and turn to face the two of you. [Ta-da!]
"But why these bedrolls?" Makram asks, more confused than offended that Abzu would dare force him to lie in something so common.
[Because then it's more like camping!]
"That... only raises further questions."
[Yeah well if you wanna be a spoilsport you can sleep on your cloud 8[ ] Abzu glances at you. [I would've gotten you one but they aren't really...] [built for someone of your body type.]
"Very thoughtful of you," you reply mostly genuinely, automatically recalling the disastrous attempt at a charm-dream Belial inflicted on you. "Ah, one moment."
You set the map bag down nearby and round the pile of gold, trying not to breathe too hard at the sight of it all, and slowly allow yourself to shift back up to your true size. It's not really the easiest thing to do smoothly while walking but you manage it, falling to all fours with a heavy thump as your changing mass and shape force you down. The room seems to be shrinking all around you, Makram and Abzu such tiny things now, as you crawl on top of the inviting pile of g-
bzzt "ow!" You clip one of the orbs of light with a horn and it bursts, not in a pleasant tingle of electricity but a jolt of burning mana. No more than a pinprick, but still unexpected and unpleasant.
[Sorry! D:]
"It's fine," you rumble, settling down on the gold with a loud clink and a heavy sigh of satisfaction. You can feel your eyelids growing heavier almost immediately. You let out a few more pleased grumbles, flexing your talons against the side of the pile as you rock back and forth into a more comfortable position. Then, on a whim, you crack your near-facing eye open and glance at Abzu.
"Did you say anything?" you ask.
[No] Abzu signs suspiciously.
"Mm." You fold your foreclaws in front of you and rest your scaly jaw on top, tail swishing this way and that before finally stilling, loosely curled around the bottom of the pile. You watch through one half-cracked eye as Abzu wriggles their way into their sleeping bag, looking up at Makram expectantly until the ifrit finally sighs and gives in. He sets down on the cold stone, peering dubiously into the body-shaped sleeve of warm fur and padding before gamely squirming himself down inside. Thanks to the differences in height Abzu can barely peek over the edge of theirs while Makram is able to comfortably leave his arms free, loosely crossed over where his lap must be. The way the water steamed off him when you fought, you doubt being cold is a problem for him.
[Anyone need anything last-minute?] Abzu asks, poking the sign up past the edge of the sleeping bag. They haven't even taken the hat off. You and Makram assure them that there's nothing else you need and they let the sign dissipate like smoke against the floor. They raise one gloved hand, probably to command the lights, then pause.
[I'm really glad you came to visit ]
"It was... a good use of my time," you reply haltingly. "Goodnight."
[G'night!]
Abzu gestures, as if conducting an invisible orchestra, and the orbs of light above slowly dim to little more than starlight. Your slitted pupils widen to compensate, bathing the room in a greyscale twilight only you can see but for the soft golden light emanating from Makram's exposed body. The mood is set nonetheless. Slowly, gradually, you allow yourself to fall asleep.
You dream you're standing on the map, no taller than a mouse, the points of light you once thought were treasures shining high into the sky in bright white pillars. Faint shapes dance within the ones you haven't yet sought out, a hundred years of idle daydreams and close-kept fantasies shuffling rapidly in and out in a barely-visible haze of want. You force yourself to look away, look at any part of the map that isn't that, and on the other end of the yellowed scroll you see Belial, dipping his monstrous tar-coated legs in the western sea like a paddling pool. He has his back to you - does he even know you're here? He must, he's the dreamwalker and you're the dreamer, but for all the interest he's showing you'd think he were here for some illustrated fish.
Well. At least he's keeping to his word and not bothering you. Maybe you'll tune him out eventually.
When you awaken you find that Abzu is as gracious a host in the morning as they were in the evening. Makram's gone - already teleported away, the shadowy wizard signs - but a far superior replacement awaits in the form of a fully-stocked breakfast buffet table.
[How does eating work for you?] Abzu signs as you shift to bipedal form and sit down.
"I don't understand the question." You shovel various meats onto your plate (the man who invented bacon deserves to be exalted to godhood) with a few poached eggs for good measure. The wizard doesn't take a seat with you. "You aren't eating?"
[I don't need much.] [What I mean is, do your dietary requirements change between forms?] [Right now, do you have to eat enough for your larger form or your current one?]
You pause, mid-bite. You never actually had to think about it, so it takes you a second. "N- yes it's by form. I've been to a few formal dinners in my human form. Rich mortals eat a lot but not enough to sate an adult dragon."
[Then why use your true form at all?] The pure white eyes blink curiously. [If it's harder to keep yourself fed I mean.]
"It feels more comfortable to be my real size," you reply, taking a moment to consume another disgusting forkful of bacon. "In this form, and especially in mortal guises, there's always this sense of... confinement. Like sucking in your gut. You train yourself out of it but it's easy to still think of yourself as big, if that makes sense. Like you're pretending and you just want to rip the mask off and roar at everyone so you can see them jump." You shrug. "And being gigantic is pretty fun."
[I bet it is!]
Abzu leaves you to eat your fill in silence, for lack of a better word, and you appreciate the quiet. You push your chair back with a satisfied sigh and pat your scaly tummy, rising and turning only to find Abzu waiting for you beside your bag. Harmless as a fly as they may be, it's still a little unnerving how quiet they are. They hold out their hand as you approach, offering you what appears to be a... blob.
A black blob with blobby white eyes just like theirs, jiggling in place as it peers up at you.
"... and this is?" you ask, almost at a loss for words.
[A familiar!] Abzu replies. The blob makes high-pitched noises of agreement, something along the lines of 'mee-ma-mo!'. [Just a little one I can see and hear through.] [Not to spy on you or anything.] [What I mean is if you want to talk or visit or invite me over, just speak to it and I'll know!]
"Ah." You cast another dubious eye at the blob. It makes a happy burbling noise. You refuse to let your demeanour crack in any unsightly ways.
"I suppose I could find a place for it," you say eventually, holding out your hand. Abzu deposits it on your palm with a wet plop. It feels a bit like warm mud, and as you flex your claws experimentally it makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like ticklish giggling. You drop it in the open bag and it falls with a slightly startled 'woop-!'
[Anyway, I'll let you go!] Abzu helpfully opens a portal to the cliffside by the tower door, skipping all the rigmarole with magic doors and automatons. [I'm sure you've got plenty of other stuff to do.] [Places to be.] [Boyfriends to meet~]
"You stop that," you grumble, winding the strap of the bag around one talon again in preparation for the flight home. "And... thank you. For your hospitality."
[My pleasure! Seeya!]
Abzu waves. They're still waving even as you step through the portal into the morning sunlight, even as you glance back over your shoulder at them. At last, your resistance worn too far down, you sketch a half-hearted wave back.
[<3] Abzu signs once last time before the portal closes, leaving you alone in the brisk high-altitude air.
You sigh a deep, long, relieved sigh to be alone again. This has been altogether far too much work and honestly once you're home all you really want is to lie down and recover. But even you can't really defend going straight back to sleep in the middle of the day with all sorts of strange men squatting in your home so you suppose you should... engh, plan to keep one of them company in the afternoon once you're back.
... shit, Makram's had time to tell everyone about the map in his own Makram way by now.
You sigh again. Fuck it. That's a problem for about six hours from now.
[ ] Jun-ho. Your 'betrothed', whatever that means at the moment.
[ ] Belial. The past-his-prime incubus that the map singled out over all others.
[ ] Issachar. He's a slightly closer destination than your spire, and for whatever reason the map's singled him out too. Maybe the advice thing. [ ] Makram. No, you've had quite enough of him for now. Maybe tomorrow.
Adhoc vote count started by ZerbanDaGreat on May 16, 2018 at 9:59 AM, finished with 28 posts and 24 votes.
[X] Belial. The past-his-prime incubus that the map singled out over all others.
They don't create it all out of thin air like you half-expected, but the show is no less impressive for it. You're impressed hard and early as a portal opens in the ceiling and a massive torrent of gold pours forth like a burst pipe, heavy coins ringing and jingling as they bounce and roll across the solid stone floor. Abzu glances over their shoulder at you once or twice, perhaps gauging how big you'll be in your true form based on your current height. When they finally cut the money off at the source you must grudgingly admit, while it's not as big as you'd like it's bigger than you hoped.
So, Abzu dear, you are the local wizard's Assistant, right? Meaning that, barring any as of yet unknown heirs, you would be the most immediate individual to inherit his magical treasures and the like. So if we were to discover on our travels that your master coincidentally suffered a fatal and definitely-not-dragon-related accident, all of this would belong to you right? And then if we were to marry you, we would be marrying into a wealth that rivals at least a moderately successfull dragon?
"It feels more comfortable to be my real size," you reply, taking a moment to consume another disgusting forkful of bacon. "In this form, and especially in mortal guises, there's always this sense of... confinement. Like sucking in your gut. You train yourself out of it but it's easy to still think of yourself as big, if that makes sense. Like you're pretending and you just want to rip the mask off and roar at everyone so you can see them jump." You shrug. "And being gigantic is pretty fun."
You push your chair back with a satisfied sigh and pat your scaly tummy, rising and turning only to find Abzu waiting for you beside your bag. Harmless as a fly as they may be, it's still a little unnerving how quiet they are. They hold out their hand as you approach, offering you what appears to be a... blob.
A black blob with blobby white eyes just like theirs, jiggling in place as it peers up at you.
[That's incredible! I absolutely must show you some of the artefacts I've found! ] Abzu pauses, as if scrutinising the ifrit. [You know if you wanted me to pay attention to you you could've just led with that.]
You're impressed hard and early as a portal opens in the ceiling and a massive torrent of gold pours forth like a burst pipe, heavy coins ringing and jingling as they bounce and roll across the solid stone floor. Abzu glances over their shoulder at you once or twice, perhaps gauging how big you'll be in your true form based on your current height. When they finally cut the money off at the source you must grudgingly admit, while it's not as big as you'd like it's bigger than you hoped.
"... is that real?" you ask, unable to help yourself.
[Yep.] Abzu signs over their shoulder. [And no you can't have it.]
"Wh- I- I would never!" you sputter indignantly. "No dragon would ever stoop so low as to ask for a... handout!"
A black blob with blobby white eyes just like theirs, jiggling in place as it peers up at you.
"... and this is?" you ask, almost at a loss for words.
[A familiar!] Abzu replies. The blob makes high-pitched noises of agreement, something along the lines of 'mee-ma-mo!'. [Just a little one I can see and hear through.] [Not to spy on you or anything.] [What I mean is if you want to talk or visit or invite me over, just speak to it and I'll know!]
"Ah." You cast another dubious eye at the blob. It makes a happy burbling noise. You refuse to let your demeanour crack in any unsightly ways.
[X] Issachar. He's a slightly closer destination than your spire, and for whatever reason the map's singled him out too. Maybe the advice thing.
Curious as to angel? Dude's deal and he seems like he'd combo nicely off of the adorable Abzu.
Belial might be interesting. Whereas the constraint with Makram is the wishes, that once we have three that's it, with Belial it's that he's actually completely willing to have sex. That's what he's here for, in fact.
It's the romance that's going to be the hard part, I'm guessing.
] Abzu pauses, as if scrutinising the ifrit. [You know if you wanted me to pay attention to you you could've just led with that.] 
