The Obsidian Rose: A Taylor Hebert Mage Quest

You close your eyes, focusing on the twisted threads of space that weave through the room, their angles wrong and disorienting, their paths impossible to follow. A deep breath steadies you as you reach out, not with your hands but with your will, feeling those threads respond to your intent. For a moment, it feels as though the world is holding its breath, waiting to see what you'll do.

You picture the threads unraveling, their tangled knots smoothing out into straight, logical lines. The vision is so clear that you can almost see it happening—reality bending, twisting, reshaping itself under your influence. With a snap that resonates through your soul, something clicks into place. And with it your vision becomes reality, the room snaps back into alignment, the impossible angles and distorted corridors smoothing out into something that makes sense.

The space around you feels… normal. But it's a normality you've imposed on it, a bubble of Euclidean order that wasn't there before. The walls no longer pulse with that sickly rhythm; the floor beneath your feet is solid and unyielding. The overwhelming sense of wrongness that permeated this place is gone, replaced by a calm, quiet stillness.

For a moment, you just stand there, in awe of what you've done. You've never heard of any power that works like this. What does that mean? Where did this come from, and why do you have it? The questions bubble up in your mind, one after another, but there are no answers, only the raw, thrilling feeling of power at your fingertips.

The lobby, now restored to its proper dimensions, shows the signs of a violent battle—scorched walls, shattered windows, and debris scattered across the floor. But everything in here is hyper-vivid, every detail standing out with almost painful clarity. The burnt wood, the smell of ash, the way the light filters through the broken glass—all of it is so sharp, so real.

You glance back at the entrance, and through the doorway, you can see a curtain of distortion where the colors become muted and less than. Out there the normal world still holds sway, but you are not here for normal. You are here for the power radiating from the heart of this place. The area around you feels stabilized, grounded in the reality you're familiar with, and this bubble of order seems to follow you as you move. You are certain you can delve deeper into this maze without issue.

But before you can, you hear the sound of footsteps—heavy and uncertain. You turn just as three figures emerge from one of the side corridors. They're wearing the red and green colors of the Asian Bad Boyz, the gang's insignia crudely emblazoned on their jackets. They look disoriented, their eyes wide with fear hidden behind a veneer of bravado.

You can tell from their tense postures and nervous glances that they've been wandering this twisted space for hours, lost and terrified. Their panicked eyes lock onto the exit, like a drowning man clutching a raft. They seem ready to tear through anything, and anyone, in their haste to escape.

You suddenly feel a battle within, as conflicting instincts rage.

Reaction:

[] Fight: You are filled with a strange sense of certainty as your body falls into a well-practiced martial stance for the first time. Your instincts are sure you can take them in a fight. (+3 Brawl, ???) [Brawl 6d10 vs Brawl ??]

[] Flight: The shadows beckon, whispering promises of concealment and swift escape. You know you could slip past them, disappearing into the darkness of this place before they can react. (+1 Athletics, +2 Stealth, ???) [Stealth 6d10; on failure Brawl 1d10 vs Brawl ??]

[] Soothe: You see the panic in their eyes and the fear gripping their heart. A whisper carries you the words that could calm them, and send them on their way. (+3 Persuasion, ???) [Persuasion 5d10; on failure Brawl 1d10 vs Brawl ??]

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A/N: We are at the first (potential) fight of the quest. Against these thugs, and most minions, the whole fight will be resolved with a single contested die roll - in this case, Brawl vs Brawl. These quick and dirty rules favor named characters, so if you win they are cinematically incapacitated based on your intent (in this case, thrown outside). If the minions win then you will take a few levels of bashing damage (bruises) as they batter their way past you.

If Fight wins, you will roll the fight check with your newly increased die pool and see how you do.

If Flight or Soothe wins, you will first roll a skill check with Stealth or Persuasion and only on a failure will you make the combat check.

To head off any concerns, your secret ID is safe no matter the choice. Why you don't need to worry about this will be revealed later on.

Thanks to everyone watching this so far and to @Kurogane_Psi-ki and @thewhiteraven22 for their advice!

You see the fear in their eyes, barely hidden behind their angry posturing. Without thinking, you find yourself slipping into a role that feels strange yet familiar, like putting on a coat you didn't know you owned.

"Look," Your voice is steady, measured, "I'm not here to fight. There's no need for this to get ugly." You take a small step back, hands raised slightly.

You speak with a confidence that surprises even you, the words coming easily, as if you've practiced this a hundred times before.

"This place… it's messed up. I get it. You don't have to stay here, Just go. I'll stay out of your way." you say with a calm measured cadence.

You can see them hesitating, the conflict flickering in their eyes, but fear twists your words, feeding their paranoia. The leader, a tall thug with a sneer that doesn't quite hide the trembling in his voice, snaps back, "You think you can just tell us what to do?"
He takes a step forward, trying to regain control of the situation, his voice rising in pitch. "You think we're scared of you?" His bravado is shaky, but his companions take strength from it. Their fear turns to aggression, and in a heartbeat, they're all moving toward you, fists clenched, ready to fight.

"Wait—don't!" you start to say, but it's too late. They're too far gone, their fear fueling their anger as they close the distance between you.

Panic surges through you as they charge, but something inside you refuses to back down. You brace yourself, feeling your pulse race, the world narrowing to the immediate threat. You don't know how to fight, not really, but the Trio gave you plenty of practice in surviving.

The leader lunges at you, swinging wildly. You manage to duck under his arm, your breath catching as his fist whistles past your ear. Another thug grabs at your arm, but you twist away, yanking yourself free with a burst of adrenaline. Raw, desperate determination keeping you just ahead of them.

They're stronger and faster, but you're used to dealing with stronger and faster. As the third thug swings wildly, you drop out of the way, and his fist crashes into the wall. The sound of the impact reverberates through the hall, and he curses in pain, clutching his hand.

Scrambling to your feet, you focus on one thing: getting them out of here. You don't need to win this fight, just survive it. Another swing comes your way, and you duck again, this time using your momentum to shove one of them toward the door. He stumbles, knocking into his friend, and they both nearly trip over the uneven floor.

"Get out!" The words burst from you, fueled by a mix of fear and anger. You push forward, not letting them regroup, herding them toward the exit with a series of frantic shoves and well-timed dodges. It's chaotic, messy, and you can feel your limbs trembling from the effort, but it's working. They're being pushed back, step by step, more confused and disoriented than hurt.

Luck is on your side—one of them slips on the debris, and another is still nursing his injured hand. You don't stop to think, just keep pushing, shoving, anything to get them out. Their bravado is crumbling, replaced by the same fear they had when they first saw you.

Finally, with one last shove, you send the leader stumbling through the doorway. The others follow, more than ready to escape the place that's turned their courage to dust. They don't wait to challenge you again, instead fleeing into the night, their hurried footsteps fading into the distance.

You're left standing alone in the now-quiet lobby, your chest heaving, heart pounding. You didn't defeat them, not really. You forced them out, kept them from overwhelming you, and that's enough.

The adrenaline slowly ebbs from your veins, leaving behind a mixture of relief and a lingering sense of unease. You did it—you survived—but there's no time to dwell on it. The power in this place still calls to you, deeper within the maze. You know you have to press on.

You step forward, and the bubble of normalized space follows you. The walls around you remain solid, the floor steady, but the wrongness outside still has a tangible weight. The space you've tamed is a small, fragile refuge in the midst of a vast, chaotic labyrinth. You can feel the eldritch nature of this place pressing in from all sides, like a predator circling its prey.

As you venture deeper, the maze becomes more alien. The corridors twist in impossible ways, walls and ceilings merging, angles that shouldn't exist bending around you. But as strange as it is, there's something about the symbols and markings that begin to catch your eye. At first, they seem like nothing more than bizarre, abstract patterns, but the longer you stare at them, the more they start to make a strange sort of sense.

It's like deciphering a language you didn't know you could understand. Your mind latches onto the patterns, the way the symbols flow into one another, and you begin to see a path through the madness. The eldritch maze, once so utterly incomprehensible, starts to reveal its secrets to you. A sense of familiarity grows within you, as though you're tapping into knowledge you didn't even know you had. (+2 Occult.)

After what feels like both a moment and an eternity of wandering, you finally arrive at the center of the maze. The room opens up before you, larger than any you've seen so far, dominated by a shrine at its heart. A shattered, twisted thing, a tesseract of corruption floating above the altar. The wound in reality pulses with dark energy, its fractured surfaces reflecting impossible angles and colors that shouldn't exist. And yet, despite the wrongness of it all, there's a strange sort of beauty to it, like a piece of abstract art that draws you in even as it repels you.

You take a step closer, trying to make sense of what you're seeing, when a sudden, bone-chilling scream tears through the air. Before you can react, something crashes into you with the force of a freight train. You're sent flying across the room, the impact driving the breath from your lungs as you slam into the far wall. Pain explodes in your side, and you feel a sharp, unmistakable crack in your chest. (3 lethal damage.)

Gasping for breath, you look up to see an abomination. A monstrous fusion of chared corpses. Their bodies, twisted and fused together into a grotesque mockery of human form, writhe in constant agony. Their mouths are open in a perpetual scream, and thick, viscous ectoplasm oozes from their many wounds, dripping onto the floor like tears of the damned.

The abomination moves with a jerky, unnatural gait, every step accompanied by the sickening sound of cracking bones and tearing flesh. Its arms flail wildly, each movement driven by pain and rage. You can feel the raw, corrosive energy radiating from it, the sheer force of its presence threatening to overwhelm you.

But even as fear grips your heart, you know you have to act. The power you've been tapping into, the strange new abilities that have been awakening within you, are your only hope. You…

[] Matter: focus on the shrine itself, envisioning the twisted and broken structure being restored to its former state. In your mind's eye, the cracks mend, the stones re-align, and the corruption that has seeped into the walls is driven out. As the shrine is repaired, the area around it is cleansed, its power restored to something pure and sacred.

[] Death: You picture the abomination before you, but instead of seeing a monster, you see the tormented spirits of the monks, trapped in their own agony. You focus on purifying their souls, laying them to rest with a wave of gentle, soothing energy. The ectoplasm dissipates, the twisted forms unravel, and their spirits find peace as they are finally released from their torment.

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A/N: And on we roll.

For those new to Mage, damage comes in three flavors:

• Bashing - Minor injuries like bruises, scraps, and small cuts. Marked with a / on the health track
• Lethal - Serious injuries like trauma wounds (stab/shot), broken bones, minor internal bleeding. Marked with a X on the health track
• Aggravated - Critical life-threatening wounds like full body burns, compound fractures, etc. Marked with a * on the health track

Taylor currently has 6 health boxes in her health track based on her size (4) and stamina (2). When the track is full new damage upgrades a level and overwrites the left most box. When her track is full with any damage type she needs to make a stamina roll each strenuous action or pass out. When the track is full of lethal she will bleeding out until she gets medical care. If the track fills with Aggravated damage you are dead.

Without any magic Taylor heals a box of Bashing every 15 minutes, a box of lethal ever 2 days, and a box of Aggravated every week.

due to RL commitments there won't be an update tomorrow, so I'll leave the vote open until Thursday.