[X] Custom:
-[X] Intellect 4
-[X] Psyche 4
-[X] Motorics 2
-[X] Physique 2
[Character Sheet Updated, Skills Unlocked, Skill Descriptions Unlocked]
[TASK ADDED: Who are you?]
[TASK ADDED: Where are you?]
[TASK ADDED: What happened to you?]
GOLDEN THRONE: The world returns to you in a haze. Your eyes are open, but unseeing. Your vision whirls as, piece by piece, feeling reasserts itself throughout your body. Physical existence welcomes you back with aches, pains, and a sensation of uncomfortable dampness.
1. Where am I?
2. Ouch. I'm starting to miss the unending darkness.
3. Oh hey, physical sensation! How bad do I feel at the moment? Is my body intact?
4. Dampness? I don't like the sound of that.
3. Oh hey, physical sensation! How bad do I feel at the moment? Is my body intact?
GOLDEN THRONE: Good question. Let's take stock of your bits and bobs, and make sure that everything is still-
ARCHETYPE: Alright that's enough out of you, Chair-Boy. Let the professionals take over.
GOLDEN THRONE: Chair-boy?
OVERLORD [Trivial: Success]: Hey! Who gave you the right to interrupt the Chair? We have *rules* here.
ARCHETYPE [Medium: Success]: *I* gave me the right, buddy. If anyone is gonna take stock of this Gold Encrusted Brick Shithouse, it's gonna be me! And also my associate.
OVERLORD: Associate?
SYNAPSE: He's talking about me. I apologize for his attitude, but it probably *would* be best if you let us handle the anatomical side of things. Don't worry, we'll be done shortly.
ARCHETYPE: No we fuckin' won't. I've got a whole list of complaints.
1. There are more of you?
2. He sounds like he knows what he's talking about. What's this list?
3. Hey, you can't just barge in here like that!
2. He sounds like he knows what he's talking about. What's this list?
ARCHETYPE: I appreciate the vote of confidence, chief. Now, let's take a look here.
ARCHETYPE: Issue Number 1: You are currently supine, your face slack and your body motionless save for the soft rising and falling of your chest. Frankly, the fact you're in position to do some Sit-Ups and can't do any is a goddamn travesty. Your eyes *are* open, but like the Chair said, you won't be seeing anything until your optical nerves get their shit together.
SYNAPSE: Working on it.
ARCHETYPE: Number 2: There are aches and pains everywhere. Even some of your internal organs seem to be getting in on the game of 'which part of you can feel the worst'. By my count, we've sustained some rather serious bruising, maybe a few minor lacerations here and there. You might have a slight concussion. A full count will have to wait until we can get eyes on them.
1. What caused this?
2. Any major damage I need to know about?
3. Maybe this is why I can't remember anything. A concussion.
1. What caused this?
ARCHETYPE [Easy: Failure]: Hard to say. Possibly you were in some form of confrontation; a fist-fight perhaps. The lack of pain in your fingers and knuckles seems to discount that theory, unless you allowed yourself to be beaten without fighting back.
OVERLORD: NEVER.
GOLDEN THRONE [Medium: Success]: No simple fist-fight could ever mar your perfect form. No mortal could touch you in a way to cause injuries like these, even if they are minor. There is a tickle somewhere in your empty memory, a ghost of a sensation. Then it passes.
ARCHETYPE: Number 3: You are laying on a hard floor, cooler than the air. Probably some kind of stone. That's fine. The problem is it is not the only thing you are laying on. A soft stickiness seems to connect you to the floor. You are pretty sure it's urine. Likely, your own. You may, in fact, be prone in a half-dried puddle of your own piss. I won't say more than that. I won't even mention the smell.
1. You know what, I don't want to process this right now. Move on.
2. It might not be piss.
3. It might not be mine.
4. Fine. I'm in a puddle of my own piss. Who cares? What's next?
2. It might not be piss.
FORGEMASTER [Easy: Success]: It is.
SYNAPSE [Easy: Success]: Yeah. It is. You remember this smell.
3. It might not be mine.
FORGEMASTER [Trivial: Success]: No, it is. That is simplest explanation, and therefore the most likely. Accept it.
RHAPSODIST [Challenging: Failure]: NAY, you lordship! I say again, nay! While unlikely, you cannot dismiss the possibility of the arrival of fated and fetid foes! Those rapscallions and ner-do-wells who would see you humiliated and cast down. During your slumber, perhaps some assassins of the Urinary Persuasion crept their way into your chambers. They must be hunted down, your lordship. A hero such as yourself cannot be disgraced like this. Honor must be maintained!
1. Tell me more about these Urinary Assassins. How can we catch them?
2. You know what, I don't want to process this right now. Move on.
2. You know what, I don't want to process this right now. Move on.
RHAPSODIST: Bah, very well. Continue your treatise, oh master of the Flesh.
ARCHETYPE: Right. Yes. Moving on.
ARCHETYPE: Number 4: Your mass, the bulk of muscles and bones that surrounds your organs, is not only stationary, it is stiff. Your arms feel weak and disused. With effort you start to twitch fingers and toes; one by one they respond meekly. One hand manages to curl into a loose fist. My god, this situation is more dire than I ever anticipated. Have our muscles atrophied? How long have we been laying here?!
FORGEMASTER [Easy: Success]: Unlikely. Muscle atrophy takes weeks to set in, and wouldn't lead to complete lack of motion immediately. In the time it would take to completely lose the capability to move our arms, we probably would have starved to death.
SYNAPSE [Trivial: Success]: There is still latent power in those limbs. It just needs time to wake up. It will never leave you.
[TASK UPDATED: Who are you?]
OVERLORD [Easy: Success]: And we're just supposed to sit around on the floor and wait around while that happens? Not on my watch. You should ORDER your muscles to get your ass in gear and get up. It is a matter of *will*, not time.
ARCHETYPE: Amazingly, I think agree with the Iron Fist over here. We can probably do this thing now, if needed. If power is there we can do anything, even if we can't see our superb, glorious, perfectly sculpted musculature.
1. How long until I can move my arms again?
2. Understood. Continue with the check-up.
3. [Archetype - Challenging 12] No time to lose! Wake up those muscles now and will yourself to get off the floor.
3. [Archetype - Challenging 12] No time to lose! Wake up those muscles now and will yourself to get off the floor.
+1 Letting the Professional Handle This
DICE: 3, 4. TOTAL: 10
ARCHETYPE [Challenging: Failure]: You tense your abdominal muscles, feeling sinew tighten and pull. You suck in a deep breath (ow) to prepare yourself and ready your will. With a grunt of effort (ow, again), you pull yourself off the ground. Things feel heavier than they should. Your arms and legs do not quite match up to your internal calculations. You shove hard off the floor (OW) to give yourself the extra boost you need and...
SYNAPSE: Alright, I've reset our optical nerves and we should have full vision in a few WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LOOK OUT!
ARCHETYPE: But you quite literally cannot. Your head, on an upward arc propelled by your gleaming pythons, slams into something hard and metallic (FUCKING OUCH). With a solid *thunk* you land back on the floor.
DAMAGED HEALTH -1
SYNAPSE: At least this time you are sitting up, vaguely supporting yourself on still-numb arms. A cold feeling spreads across your forehead, joining in with the aches in a dance that will result in one mother of a headache. Also, good news, the shock to your system seems to have accelerated the reboot process. You can see! Sort of.
ARCHETYPE: Damn, it's bright in here.
1. Holy shit, MY EYES. What's causing this?
2. [Examine yourself]
3. [Look around]
1. Holy shit, MY EYES. What's causing this?
FORGEMASTER: That would probably be all the gold. The room is infested with it. Just give your eyes a moment to adjust, they're having a real rough time.
2. [Examine yourself]
ARCHETYPE: Your body, now that you can see it, is a sight to behold. When I said "Gold Encrusted Brick Shithouse" earlier I was *not* joking. Your form ripples with sinew and tendons, well defined and solid. Your eyes trace down your arm, seeing muscle flex as it holds up your weight. Light reflects off your skin in cascading waves. Oddly, you detect no bruises in the areas where you feel pain. No cuts or abrasions. Nothing seems to impair the perfection of your form.
GOLDEN THRONE [Formidable: Success]: The Damage is not purely physical, and even if it was, it is so minor your edifice would not stoop so low as to show it. It is beneath you.
[TASK UPDATED: What happened to you?]
SYNAPSE [Medium: Failure]: Your own musculature reminds you of something, far away and gone, but as you try to grasp the feeling it slips away...
ARCHETYPE: You are also clothed, barely. A silken robe, white with shimmering gold embroidery, hangs loosely about you. It covers just enough to make you presentable, were any other eyes watching, but no more than that. It is also slightly damp and well, yeah. It's got piss in it.
RHAPSODIST [Easy: Success]: It is the robe of a lord at rest. One who expects not to be disturbed. It speaks of comfort, relaxation, high society. This is an object of the highest value, likely hand-made by artisans. When you dispose of it (and you *will* dispose of it, it has been gravely stained) give it the honor of a pyre. It deserves that much.
3. [Look Around]
GOLDEN THRONE: Well, the most obvious thing is right in front of yo-
SHIFTING TENDONS: You intrude on matters not of your domain. The realm of the senses is *mine*. I shall see us through this.
GOLDEN THRONE: Goddamn it. What the fuck?
SHOCK AND AWE: SILENCE, INTERLOPER. Allow my compatriot to speak.
OVERLORD: Oh! I like this one.
SHIFTING TENDONS: Ahem.
SHIFTING TENDONS: The room is comfortably large, spartan in its furnishings, but paradoxically luxurious in its finery. There are few pieces of furniture, but each is (or was, at least) a masterwork. A simple writing desk made of finely carved wood has been splintered in the corner, the associated chair broken into kindling and stained with a shattered inkpot. A large, comfortable bed has been thrown with immense force, and now rests upside-down against one wall. Fine sheets and pillows (both with shining, golden embroidery) have fallen onto the hard ground. A fractured carafe of wine has spilt its contents across floor nearest to you, staining the stone with red. The faint smell of fruit joins the aroma of drying urine, and the wafting incense, as part of the swirling storm of competing smells in the chamber.
SHIFTING TENDONS: As previously mentioned, the room *shines*. Your eyes have adapted swiftly and it concerns you no more. Illuminating the mess around you are a series of lanterns embedded in the metallic ceiling, casting bright rays across the walls. They themselves are gold-leafed, reflecting the light of their neighbors. The walls were once simple stone and metal, but you can see that golden filigree has been added on, certainly after the room was finished. Reflections upon reflections as the light bounces around the room. One wall has been cratered, what seem to be the result of a valiant application of athletic prowess resulting in metal panels ripped off the stone backing. The door, solid and thick and metallic, remains untouched.
RHAPSODIST [Medium: Success]: A room not *originally* meant for the purpose of housing one such as yourself, your lordship. Carved into stone and reinforced to stand against any hardship. Brutal, military architecture turned into housing for a resident of the highest stature. Nothing compared to what you truly deserve, but acceptable.
SYNAPSE [Easy: Success]: Far grander than your first home, and yet lesser than many others.
SHOCK AND AWE [Easy: Failure]: It's on the very edge of being insulting. Someone of your stature deserves much, much more. It is expected of you. Next time, more gold!
OVERLORD [Easy: Success]: It is secure, and that is enough. A place from which you plan greater conquests.
[TASK UPDATED: Where are you?]
SHIFTING TENDONS: Only two areas remain relatively untouched. Against the near wall, where the wine has dried, sits a simple marble table. Two chairs, one correctly sized and generally comfortable looking, the other far too small for any man. On the surface sits a checkered board and small figures carved of exotic stone. The pieces have been upturned, their place on the board lost, but the setup remains unbroken.
FORGEMASTER [Easy: Success]: A game of Regicide. interrupted by whatever maelstrom swept through this place.
SHIFTING TENDONS: The other area is right next to you. It is a bureau of jade and dark wood, atop which sits a fractured mirror. Glass has fallen onto the top surface, joining a small collection of items: smoldering incense, a pair of empty glasses, and a set of golden laurel branches. Drawers remain solidly closed, hiding whatever contents they may have.
RHAPSODIST [Easy: Success]: All the things a man of your fine tastes needs. Specifically: More robes, sandals, cloaks, and other implements of high society.
SHIFTING TENDONS: The mirror, however, draws your attention. Not that it has been shattered, that is much like everything else in the room. Rather the cause of the shattering is the important part.
SHIFTING TENDONS: A sword, at least five feet in length, has been driven halfway through the mirror. It has gone solidly through the glass, through the wooden backing, through the reinforced wall, seemingly all in one smooth strike. A display of swordsmanship, craftsmanship, and strength to rival any other. The back half of the blade hangs out over the edge of the drawers, the hilt awaiting a fresh grip.
ARCHETYPE: Beautiful work. A clean thrust.
FORGEMASTER [Easy: Success]: Exactly at the height, for reference, where your head had been when you tried to get up. Luckily, it seems the flat of the blade met your forehead, and not the edge.
SHIFTING TENDONS: Despite all this destruction, the room is oddly silent. There has been no repetition of the trumpet call that awakened you from your slumber. Only the beating of your own heart breaks the stillness of this chamber.
1. Okay, so... is this all of you? Any more voices going to show up?
2. Did I do that? The sword and the mirror?
3. [Stand up for real this time.]
1. Okay, so... is this all of you? Any more voices going to show up?
SYNAPSE [Easy: Failure]: Hard to tell. There are vague impressions left up here. Shadows of statues that once stood, resolute, in the corners of your personality. Wires remain crossed and signals scrambled. If there are more of *us*, whatever we are, they are not here now. Perhaps they are lost forever. Perhaps not.
GOLDEN THRONE [Medium: Success]: There were once many more, speaking in one voice. Now there are few, and they are fractured. This place was much like the sword before you, forged and honed to a fine point; dedicated to a single purpose. No longer.
SHOCK AND AWE [Easy: Success]: A man in your position needs a suitable number of advisors; not too many, not too few. It gives the right impressions.
GOLDEN THRONE [Easy: Success]: All that can be said for sure is, whatever is happening up in your brain, it's not quite done. It might be worthwhile to take some time later, sit, and contemplate. We may need to unjumble the mess up there, and see what can be found.
2. Did I do that? The sword and the mirror?
ARCHETYPE [Trivial: Success]: Quite possible. Probable, even. Now that feeling is starting to return in your extremities you can tell there is *strength* here, even reduced as you are. It might take some work, but you could do it again if you wanted to. You would just need to get the sword out of the wall first.
SHIFTING TENDONS [Trivial: Success]: With the right angle of attack, and the correct stance and leverage, you could *easily* do it again.
SHOCK AND AWE [Easy: Success]: And you definitely should. Nothing says 'I'm in charge' like putting your blade through several feet of solid rock. Somebody might piss their pants, and it won't be you this time. Just keep that in mind the next time you need to make an impression.
3. [Stand up for real this time.]
ARCHETYPE: This is much easier now that you can see properly. Without even a grunt of effort, you rise onto steady legs. No shaking now. No weakness. Even the pain is fading.
SHIFTING TENDONS: You are sure to keep your head *away* from the sword, this time. No repeat incidents.
ARCHETYPE: Standing and stretching makes you realize just how low the ceiling of this room happens to be. If you are not careful, you may just whack your head on something else. Keep an eye out.
FORGEMASTER [Medium: Success]: Is the ceiling too low, or are you too tall? It was hard to tell when you were laying down, but now that you're upright something seems *off* about the scale in this room. Why the single, tiny chair? Why are the bedsheets and your robe roughly the same size? Something is up here.
GOLDEN THRONE: Speaking of things that are *off*...
OVERLORD: Oh boy, here we go.
1. What now?
GOLDEN THRONE: Hey you! Twitchy!
SHIFTING TENDONS: Me?
GOLDEN THRONE: Yes. You. What the *fuck* are you playing at?
SHIFTING TENDONS: What do you mean?
SHOCK AND AWE [Easy: Success]: Do not speak to my compatriot in that manner!
GOLDEN THRONE: This includes you, too! Both of you. This insult will not go unheeded. My title is not a joke! If I had known we came in *Gold* lettering, I would have done that instead. Now both of you show up, parading around in my color, and I'm stuck with purple?!
OVERLORD: Purple is the color of rulership!
RHAPSODIST [Easy: Success]: There is a long and storied history of connection between the the color, and the many, many royal families of bygone eras. The original cause of this link is lost to time, but nevertheless it maintains power. No nobility worth their titles would turn their nose up at such coloring. It is associated with luxury, royalty, nobility, and influence.
GOLDEN THRONE: That's all well and good, but I'm not called "Violet Throne" or "Lavender Throne" am I? This is a slap in the face!
FORGEMASTER [Trivial: Success]: They're really more *yellow* than gold, sir.
1. Is this really a good use of our time? It seems like a pretty stupid complaint.
2. Yeah! Why aren't you gold? This is bullshit.
3. I have no feelings on this argument one way or the other. Can we move on?
2. Yeah! Why aren't you gold? This is bullshit.
GOLDEN THRONE: My point exactly! I'm willing to drop this for now, but I'll be wanting some answers eventually. If we ever figure out how to change the hue on this thing, I call first dibs.
[TASK ADDED: Fix Your Skill Colors]
ARCHETYPE: Alright. Now that Chair-boy's complaints are resolved. We can get down to business. Namely: the business of getting that cool-ass sword.
SYNAPSE: Actually, if it's not too much trouble, I think we need to take stock of the situation. Like our Purple friend suggested earlier, we should take a breath and see if we can unjumble whatever is wrong in your head.
SHOCK AND AWE: I am afraid there is a far more pressing matter, your eminence! While you have examined the room, and gazed upon your own stained attire, we have yet to examine our own countenance. Who knows what we look like right now? The mirror may be shattered, but the pieces still serve our purpose. We need to check our hair and face IMMEDIATELY. Who knows when someone will come check on you? We have to look our *best*.
OVERLORD: No. No. No! Screw waiting around in here. We need some answers and we need them *now*. Get out of this wrecked room, and lets go find someone to interrogate.
Choose One:
[] Get that cool-ass Sword out of the mirror. You need a friend (and a weapon) in this strange place.
[] Lean against the wall and *think*. What do you remember? What's waiting for you in there?
[] Peer into the shards of the broken mirror and examine yourself. What do you look like? What's on your face?
[] Head out the door and find someone. You need answers.
