Consumption

[Alivaril]

You lever yourself out of bed and cross over to the vase holding your water elementals. Not only are they larger than you last checked—they're now slightly larger than your hands spread flat—but their bodies seem significantly more detailed than they used to be. At least, reliably detailed. For instance, they always had fingers, but seemed to have trouble keeping them separate from one another. No more.

Confirmation arrives when you remove the cloth covering their vase. All three elementals look up, produce happy-sounding squeals, and surge toward you. You jerk your head back just in time to avoid a face full of excited elementals.

...Since when can they deliberately make noise?

(3 Water Elementals Empowered: [Class 0 -> Class 1])​

[X] Automatically included: Pick up the supplies Morgan has gathered so far and ask him if he's figured out anything else.
[x] Ask Morgan if you can take a training orb with you.
[x] Gather your supplies, say goodbye to Morgan, and break the anchor early.
-[x] Explain the reasoning - you have a feeling that there's something Going On, and unless he can gather some significant extra supplies in the next 24 hours you're better off following your apparent new instincts.

You find Morgan in his office, as usual. You spot a tan backpack sitting in one corner of the room, halfway open with a cloth bundle sticking out of it. You deliberately turn away before you can lose your train of thought on speculation and curiosity.

The magician looks up and flashes a smile as you step through the doorway.

"Yes? What do you need?"

You take a deep breath and begin going down your list of mental objectives.

"Hi, so I know I said we'd have a little less than a week, but I think my anchor is going to break in a day or so and my new instincts or the voice in my head or whatever claims I might be better off breaking it early. So! Will you be able to gather significantly more supplies in the next 24 hours or is my early departure perfectly OK? I hope it's okay, I guess this is a much shorter time than I said it'd probably break but I didn't really count on the downsides of mana expenditure n stuff. You can watch if you want and could you also maybe tell me anything you've figured out since the last time we talked about it?"

You finish exhaling, sharply inhale, and continue.

"Also also I'm breaking it early since it seems like it'd somehow give me better choices or more choices or whatever, and since one-plus-one is better than one, that'd still be an improvement. I don't remember picking last time but I guess that might be because it was the first time using my Talent and I was on my homeworld and I didn't have an anchor yet or something? Which reminds me, do you have any advice for dealing with strange or dangerous environments? I get the feeling my Talent won't drop me anywhere instantly fatal, but I don't think a warzone would count and that'd still be really, really unpleasant and—I've lost my train of thought. What were we talking about a minute ago?"

You look down and mutter under your breath, trying to remember what you have said and what you were supposed to say.

"Portal, rift, supplies, question Morgan, something else important, other things...?"

Morgan speaks up while you're still retracing your mental steps.

"Are you sure that emotion-dampening effect was for your own benefit?"

You try to focus on maintaining your original train of thought and fail utterly. At least it only takes you two seconds to realize what he actually meant.

"Hey! I—"

"—Resemble that remark, I know," Morgan interrupts dryly. "I swear, if I had half your energy..."

"Mine," you mock-growl. Judging by the rolled eyes, you're not sure he realizes you were kidding.

"Joking again. Anyway, I missed about half of that. From what I remember? Yes, I've gathered everything I can on short notice. I could rearrange what we're giving you, certainly, but it would likely involve spending money to do so."

Morgan looks like he intends to continue, but you finally remembered what you were forgetting.

"Orbs! Can I take one? They're frustrating, but helpful. Also, could you give me whatever I'd use to help me with chanting, drawing, or any other spellcasting essentials you can get away with guiding me on? Oh, and you said you don't mind me going full happy. It's not like I'd act like this if you were going to blast me."

Morgan blinks, stops, and pulls a small leatherbound book out from underneath the pile of papers. You skip forward and look over his neck, reading the addition he's scribbling down in the corner of one page.

At the end of each day, note down how you felt along with how many elementals you had summoned and the types of elementals you had summoned. Approximate power of each group as well.​

You jerk back just before his rising skull impacts your own chin.

"Why? Thinking about my mood can't do good things for it, can it? That just seems like a waste of parchment."

Morgan tilts his head to one side and frowns. Eventually, he shrugs and draws a line through the middle of the instructions.

"I was merely curious as to if your summoned elementals affect your personality. You summoned an additional two water elementals, did you not? And then spent days letting them get stronger?"

You barely even need to consider the thought before you reject it out of hand. You had even more water and air elementals back with you on the Scout's ship. You're just happy.

"This is normal. My water elementals can now make noise to express their mood. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

You can feel three lukewarm bodies glance out from around your neck as the phrase 'water elemental' is uttered. One of them releases what might be a smug chirp.

Morgan stares at your neck for an unusually long time. Eventually, he shrugs.

"Fair enough."

The magician gestures toward the disorganized mess of papers on the surface of his desk. If they just put aside their differences and worked together, you're certain they would be a frustratingly formidable force of anarchy.

You dimly imagine a horde of sword-wielding papers fleeing from a single squeaking fire elemental. Your own tilts itself to one side when you look at it speculatively.

Morgan soon draws you away from your thoughts of scorched stationary.

"I'll need half an hour or so to jot down my notes and lesson plans for you. Maybe a few extra minutes to retrieve a test rat. After that, yes, you'll be free to go." He nods toward your backpack. "Would you be so kind as to grab that for me?"

Fetch quest or not, you're happy to comply. It's honestly lighter than you'd expected, but you have yet to decide if that's a good or a bad thing. At least it won't be too difficult to carry.

Morgan accepts the backpack and settles it on his lap. After a moment of thought, the magician carefully unwraps the cloth mystery bundle, revealing a spike made out of shimmering white crystal. He glances up and makes sure you're watching before speaking again.

"This is a portable sanctuary. If you plant it in the ground and feed it a little bit of your mana, it'll set up a spherical shield tuned to send out blatantly artificial pulses to the surrounding area. Any halfway-competent magician within a few kilometers should be able to feel them and find you. Yes, the shield is supposed to look like part of it is moving. Be warned that you can only use it once; the shield won't go down until the crystal is too flawed or weak to safely maintain the spell. Should last you a handful of hours before that happens. Before you ask, yes, you can safely break it early if help arrives. Just don't do it with your own bare flesh. Crystal cuts hurt like fury."

You peer down at the spike, gently steering your fire elemental to one side when he blocks your view.

"How strong is it?"

Morgan tilts one hand from side to side. "'Strong' might be a bit misleading. It's solid. Anything weaker than a falling tree won't do anything to it. You get something worse than that, it'll start to crack and ultimately break within a minute."

"How big of a tree are we talking about? I've seen falling trees shatter rocks unlucky enough to be in their way. Big rocks."

Morgan blinks, sighs, and begins rewrapping the crystal.

"I don't know. I'm not a woodsman. Look, I've seen one of those survive an avalanche. You'll be fine."

As soon as he finishes, he stuffs it back in your backpack and drags out a plain bronze bracer. His next words almost seem desperate.

"Circular engravings on here will shift every few seconds to show you where nearby creatures happen to be in relation to yourself. Since they need to be moving under their own power for the sensor to 'see' them, most plants don't qualify. It can't find people unless they've been standing in its area for multiple minutes, so, ah, don't count on it for that. Or insects, they're too small. Best we could do."

You take the bracer and slip it on. It's about as heavy as two of your stone elementals; nothing too bad. After approximately five seconds, a swarm of small black circles fills up the right edge of the bracer with six others scattered across it. A single X marks the exact center of the bracer and (presumably) your own location.

You cross over to the nearest window and peer out of it. The bracer's reading doesn't update to match your new alignment until you're about halfway there. Regardless, the swarm of smaller circles seems to represent a flock of birds sitting atop the building across the street.

After careful inspection, you mentally add 'elementals' to the list of things your new toy equipment is incapable of detecting. At a guess, the range seems to be somewhere around twenty meters? Definitely smaller than you'd prefer.

"Do I have to take it off to deactivate it?"

Morgan shrugs.

"Wearing something between your skin and it works too."

You remove the bracer regardless and pass it back to Morgan. He silently shakes his head and pushes it back inside your backpack.

"I've got nothing else interesting," he admits. "A few changes of commoner's and servant's clothes—not gonna lie, what you have on is nicer—about a week's worth of food, jug for five days of water, few other empty metal jars, what I'm told are basic cooking tools, a raincloak, uh..." Morgan peers back into the backpack. "...And the money my friends and I scraped together, I guess. Pick one of the orbs to keep; I'll get a wrapper for you to keep it in. You should know how to recharge it by the time it actually comes to that. Like I said, I'll need time to get you my notes, and..." Morgan frowns. "...That's about it, really. Seemed like more when I was packing."

An uncertain silence falls. You clasp both hands in front of you and try to break its back.

"Do you want to come with me? Some of my elementals did the first time around."

Morgan winces and quickly inhales through his teeth. You doubt he thought about it for more than a second before he shakes his head.

"I'm happily married. If we had a week or two, I could find some headstrong newcomer to go with you. As it is?" Morgan sighs. "I'm afraid we all have our own lives to attend to. Not to mention I'll still need to use a rat to make sure it can't close on living things. I expect that would be distressingly fatal."

Your mood darkens slightly. You hadn't really been expecting anyone to come with you, but 'hoping' is something completely different. You doubt all of Morgan's colleagues have the excuse of family; you're more important than laziness or research, aren't you?

"...Oh. Thanks anyway."

This time, the uncertain silence decides to invite its cousin, Awkward. You reject it by silently turning around and walking toward the dining hall and breakfast. You might as well get something to eat while you wait.



-[x] Let him watch.

When you return, Morgan is holding a rather long pole with an occupied rat cage hanging from the end. You're also pretty sure there are a half-dozen more glowing orbs scattered around the room than there were a few dozen minutes ago.

You pack your own belongings before swinging the entire bag onto your back. Your estimate of 'lighter than you'd expected' goes out the window when you imagine hours of walking with it. Or it might be due to whatever supplies Morgan packed at the last minute, you suppose. Still, it was just some papers and a notebook, wasn't it? So it couldn't have made that big of a difference.

...Still heavier than I like. Note to self: strengthen stone elementals ASAP so they can help me carry all my stuff.

"Ready?" Morgan asks.

You glance over and frown at him.

"I'm breaking the anchor. Shouldn't that be my line?"

Morgan raises one eyebrow and produces an exaggerated bow. You ignore him and repeat the line he had no right to.

"Ready?"

The magician snorts and straightens back up. "Well, that's certainly a difficult question, isn't it? I'm leaning toward 'yes,' but really, there are so many different reasons to answer 'no,' aren't there?"

"I'll just take that as a yes," you mutter.

You direct your attention inward and stare at the center of your anchor. Now that it's actually time to follow through, you feel a little bit silly; your past attempts to interact with your anchor's threads just led to your mana sliding right past. A few halfhearted attempts to push even more mana at it have the exact same result.

I want to leave now.

Nothing happens. You frown and force yourself to care more about the outcome. This stupid, annoying, mysterious thing is taunting you with promises of an early break and benefits, then not actually giving you any real hints as to how you're supposed to break it in the first place. Who even does that?

Break already, you stupid anchor!

The effects are immediate and vindictively satisfying. The weaker threads outright dissolve, leaving the few remaining threads in charge of a disproportionately large load. You don't expect they'll last more than a few minutes.

This time, you can see a whirlpool abruptly form inside your mana reservoir, sucking in a distressingly large amount of mana and taking it who-knows-where. To your vague surprise, it seems happy to stop and vanish after only taking about a quarter, leaving faint chest pains in its wake. You're pretty sure that's much less than it did the first time around.

Morgan jerks backward as a horrific screeching heralds the appearance of a crack in reality. It rapidly expands until it's about two meters tall, displaying an empty black void instead of the alternate world or worlds you'd been expecting. Fortunately, it doesn't seem to be done; jagged white cracks start to form perpendicular to one another. By the time they finish, the portal has been split into four relatively even sections.

A second or two later, you see the void inside each section crack and rip apart, revealing something significantly closer to what you'd been expecting: four different images filling up their respective corners of the greater rift. Each image seems to depict a wildly-different different location, one of which could easily have come from your nightmares.

You fight down your urge to dissolve into hysterical giggling. This time, you could hear reality scream as it was torn apart. Or... no, it was closer to whistling, wasn't it? Yes. Definitely whistling, not screaming. Innocent, ordinary, high-pitched whistling. That's your story and you're sticking to it.

You force yourself to look back at Morgan. The magician is staring, wide-eyed, at the rift. You can't figure out which part of it elicited that particular reaction, but you're guessing it's the blood-pool.

"Which place do you think would be best?" you ask.

Morgan doesn't look away from the rift, still wide-eyed. "I doubt I see what you see. For me? It just looks like a window into the darkest abyss imaginable. You'll need to describe what you see if you want any help."

You glance back at the divided rift and discard that particular proposal. You have a strong feeling that doing so would take far, far too long.

You've barely even begun to inspect the different windows before another thought tries to knock you over.

"Can you smell anything? Feel anything? Sense any magic? Hear anything?"

Morgan glances to you. "No. Should I?"

Since you can actually see the environmental mana from each window interacting with your own network, you're fairly certain the answer should be 'yes.'

Your air elementals don't seem to share Morgan's lack of knowledge and quickly dart toward the closest section of the rift. You immediately step forward and wave them away from it.

"No," you order firmly. "Not until I pick one. Stay with me, got it?"

The air elementals hang their heads and float back to their preferred hiding place: your hair. You offer your index fingers as a peace offering while you continue to inspect the various windows. The two elementals soon stop sulking and hug the offered digits.

Minor crisis averted, you turn your attention back to the rift and try to decide on a single destination.

---

Use preference voting: 1, 2, 3, and 4 instead of X, where lower numbers mean you prefer that option over higher alternatives. 1 is your first choice, 2 is second, etc.


[] A pool of blood.

...Admittedly, "pool" might be a bit of an understatement. You don't think it's even possible to gather all the blood you can see without the assistance of magic. It'd dry up long before this, wouldn't it?

The pool itself seems to be in a darkened stone cavern. The roof is shaped like an upside-down bowl while the ground seems to slope upward the further away you go from the blood pool.

Upon further inspection, the red glow illuminating the room is coming from the blood itself. You think you can be forgiven for not noticing it the first time around. The beach of smaller rocks along the outside should be close enough to your window for you to land on it instead of inside the pool itself - at least, if your portal doesn't decide to propel you through it. You'll need to be careful.

Sniffing the air in front of the window is more than enough for you to estimate the cavern's ambient mana level: huge. Only, the mana you just breathed seems pretty weird? It actually takes you a few seconds to even find the new beads, and even once you do, you're not quite sure what to make of them. They're much, much closer to 'normal' than they should be. In fact, you're pretty sure they'll just be added to your current mana supply after only a few minutes. Normal environmental mana is completely used up by the walls of your network instead of replacing your current reserves.

There's only one thing keeping you from completely disregarding the window's contents as something out of a nightmare. Well, exempting your curiosity. Anyway, you can hear soft, sad singing from somewhere outside of your window's range of view. Maybe from the unseen center of the pool? Either way, you can't identify the singer's gender.

"Do you know a fairy tale I've yet to hear?
"Together, we can forget about the fear.
"...No? You can't remember?
"Then maybe we could—no, that doesn't rhyme and it's too long. Something with 'bringer?' 'Singer?' 'Chamber' might work..."

Stranger still, the place seems to smell like you instead of an enclosed space filled with blood. Considering that you don't even know what you smell like, you're fairly certain your interpretation has been hijacked. You're also not sure how you can understand the speaker when you didn't feel any of the dizziness associated with a new language.

You vaguely wonder if this sort of thing is what people were thinking of when they claimed 'curiosity kills.' It's a room full of blood. Shouldn't you be running away (screaming is optional) instead of seriously considering it?


[] A stone road.

"Boring" may be an appropriate descriptor for this window. The grey stone looks unusually well-maintained with a small herd of deer munching on the nearby plants. Apart from that, you can't really see anything interesting. It looks to be around midday and the road is shaded by a number of trees on either side. The ambient mana levels are minimal.

On the bright side, "boring" also means "safe(ish)." You think you can live with that.


[] A bustling marketplace.

Numerous temporary stalls line the sides of the market, most of them selling some food or another. While it's still pretty loud, you don't think it's as smelly as the town you're currently in, Strausile. The clothing of the people you can see is much, much more colorful than the drab attire worn by people here. You can't see anyone with a skin color far different from your own, a clear contrast to the unnatural colors—you still think purple skin is weird—of those in Strausile. On the other hand, too much similarity is itself strange; you don't see anyone with the normal shades of brown.

Given as your landing site would plant you in an empty space right next to a large water fountain, you're pretty sure you'll attract quite a bit of attention during your entry.

The ambient mana level seems surprisingly high for an occupied area, yet the only magical things you can see are a few water elementals playing in the fountain. You don't think that's unusual; magic is expensive.

It looks like it's about noon in the market. You can't yet understand what anyone in the market is saying, although you do feel slightly dizzy when you actually think about it. You think that's a good sign.


[] A magical demonstration...?

...Or a massive assault on something in the starless skies above. Either/or. Streamers of multicolored light spread out from central detonations, which are themselves accompanied by a horrifically loud whistling noise. Upon review, the whistling should be accompanying each projectile as it travels into the skies above, with a BOOM accompanying each explosion. You suppose they're similar to lightning strikes, then? Those are the only phenomena you can think of which are something similarly out of sync.

The grass field in front of your entry point is unnaturally blackened and dry. You think you might even be able to see a few orange embers lingering among a pile of similarly-charred deadwood and a few scattered examples of the same.

While your view is mostly blocked by the nearby trees, you think you can see a few artificial structures closer to where the explosions are. One of them even looks like it could have nine floors, which you're guessing would be the local mage's guild or some equivalent. You'd been under the impression it was flat-out impossible to build that high, but maybe magic can take care of that particular problem?


[] A pool of blood.

[] A stone road.

[] A bustling marketplace.

[] A magical demonstration...?

---

Spoiler: QM's Note

Unlike the original world selection, options are not automatically equal and it is possible for you to end up someplace particularly unpleasant, the potential to be unpleasant if you do something foolish, etc. The same holds true in the future unless other factors negate it. You are (IC), however, fairly certain that your rifts wouldn't send you anywhere instantly fatal; even if you end up somewhere dangerous, you're fairly certain you should be able to get out of it alive. 'Unharmed' might be a different story. You may not be able to fall into a pit of lava, but as indicated by Melia in this very post, a warzone is still possible.

Oh, and I will be including ability ranks in future posts, as requested. I'll also update your character sheet the next time you get significantly better at using an ability and/or get a new one.

 

[Alivaril]

Not an update. Last one was post #722.

If the ambient mana is ALREADY affecting us and the area despite Morgan's inability to notice it, can we tell if the mana from blood pool is settling in Morgan's directly into his reserves the same way it's settling in ours? I'm pretty sure our mana sense isn't good enough to tell this right now, but worth a shot.

Click to shrink...

When it comes to mana outside your body, you're currently incapable of reliably sensing anything other than ambient mana levels—as in, the mana concentration of whatever area you're in. So, no, you cannot.

Time-saver: When you ask Morgan, he'll say he's only getting the usual amount of environmental mana from the guildhall, nothing more.

What we're seeing may be in some sense the 'digestive' part of a larger system designed to entrap beings and feed off of their suffering or life force (either of which is symbolized by the pool of glowing blood). There may be a 'mouth' elsewhere that is designed to do the entrapping within its own dimension, or it may have servants of some kind that kidnap other beings and feed them to it. However, our ability to see into the digestive part of the system doesn't mean we'll be able to escape it from the inside. A mouse that appears from another dimension halfway down a snake's gullet isn't going anywhere.

Click to shrink...

You're pretty sure showing up in that sort of area—with your current skills and companions, at least—would fall under "fatal" and is something your Talent wouldn't do to you. To reuse the example, a warzone may be exceptionally difficult to get out of unharmed, but it wouldn't be impossible.

OOC: Will confirm the above. Areas might be higher risk (possibly without a corresponding increase in potential rewards), but going to one wouldn't be an instant loss / instant severe trauma condition.

I'd like to emphasize the negative connotations of the word "risk," though. I've noticed a trend in questing—and structured roleplaying in general, for that matter—where players often don't believe negative consequences from "failing" a high-risk scenario will ever happen to them. You take on enough of them, you'll likely fail sooner or later even if you try to be really damn careful. A cautious approach to a high-risk scenario is, as a general rule, still more dangerous than a cautious approach to a low-risk one.

Not really.

The GM specifically said that we could end up in a dangerous place that would harm us. Just not one where we are immediately harmed upon entry. Your opinion is frankly, incorrect and misleading.

Click to shrink...

Eh... *waggles hand* I did actually say something close to that, so you're both right. That being said, players don't possess the Path to Victory. A "wrong" reaction may seem perfectly sensible at the time, as if it's less likely to lead to disaster compared to alternatives, etc.


I will neither confirm nor deny if the various above responses are in any way related IC to any of the current options. I mean it. People frequently seem to take that as confirmation, but for me, it's honestly not. Please do not take it as a QM-hint in either direction; if you publicly attempt to do so, I reserve the right to play Devil's Advocate for one or both sides.

---

General request: please avoid getting riled up from speculative what could bes when quite a few variables are still unknown. Basically, go ahead and use your concerns as reasons why a given destination might be a bad idea to travel to, but try to avoid convincing yourself that the worse scenarios are guaranteed to occur if a given option wins. That way lies stress and quitting.

 

[Alivaril]

Winner: A magical demonstration...?

You find yourself surprisingly reluctant to give up on the pool of blood. Okay, sure, it looks blatantly evil, but what if it's actually something harmless? Helpful? The singer doesn't sound malicious. You freely admit you're heavily motivated by curiosity.

Ultimately, you decide to go with caution and the promise of more pretty explosions. Barely. You vaguely hope you'll have a chance to go back when you're more powerful and can better take care of yourself. You doubt it will, though.

But first...

"Morgan? Is there any extra or unusual foreign mana entering your network? Because I am. Um, I mean, I'm getting some. Sorry. And did the rift sound like it was whistling when it opened? It did for me."

The magician starts to shake his head and stops mid-motion.

"No mana and, for me, it was closer to a scream. I'm not sure this is a true portal; what you're reporting and what I'm observing are wildly different. At least the rat seems fine."

You barely resist the urge to poke your finger through one of the windows. That's what animal tests are for.

"I'm going to choose the bottom-left location out of four, okay? Please tell me if you feel or see anything different."

Morgan looks back at you for just long enough to nod. You give him a slightly awkward smile in return.

Turning back to the possible magical demonstration, you try to make yourself feel something stronger than vague curiosity. It's much easier than it was the first time around.

I want to go there.

The cracks separating the rift into four sections close, allowing the different images to overlap in a slightly disturbing manner. Fortunately, the rejected locations fade and vanish within moments, allowing the final window to expand and fill the entire portal. The rat cage remains undisturbed.

You check your anchor and find that all but one thread has snapped. You don't think it'll last more than a minute or two.

"Okay, the portal is focused on only one pace now. So, um, thank you for everything? ...I'm sorry, but I honestly don't know what to say here. I think my life would be a lot harder without your help."

Morgan gives you a sideways grin.

"I expect it would be. Just remember to help any others in need, would you? The guild can't be everywhere. You can."

His smile slowly fades.

"...Within reasonable limits, that is. I don't expect you to go overthrowing any evil governments or the like. Just, try to keep this whole thing in mind? Even if you help just two other people out of desperate situations, that's still a vast impro—"

You wince and hold up a hand as the last thread visibly vibrates. "I really do need to go. I might see you later, I guess? Again, thanks. Yes, now we can go, everyone."

Morgan stops and sighs. "...Right. Good luck."

You retrieve your fingers from the two air elementals and slowly walk through the rift, keeping a close watch on your anchor as you do so. The moment you've crossed the threshold, fluffy dizziness overwhelms your head. You barely manage to keep your balance and focus even as you stagger to one side. Neither stops you from looking back at the now-closing rift.

Instead of slicing the rat in half like Morgan and you feared, the rip flows around the cage and shoves it back toward Morgan. Meanwhile, numerous threads of mana shoot from your anchor in a layout similar, but not perfectly identical to, the one you'd had before. You think this one might have a few more threads, but you aren't sure; they overlap enough to make them insanely difficult to count. You also have no idea where the extra mana came from. You don't think the anchor used any of your own this time.

Directing your attention back to the outside world, you're vaguely surprised to see a severe lack of exploring elementals. Craning your neck, you find both airs, your fire, and one dirt elemental staring up at the sky. Your neck doesn't bend far enough to let you look at the others, but you're imagining they're doing the same.

After a moment of thought, you carefully reach back and retrieve your portable sanctuary. You don't unwrap it just yet; you don't want to trip and hurt yourself or accidentally activate it.

Ready for just about everything, you walk toward the colorful explosions. You can't imagine they would use this big of a variety if it were actual combat, nor do you know how long it's going to last.

Ash gives way to living grass within a minute. The smell of smoke doesn't vanish.



Not even five minutes later, the sounds of running feet greet your ears. You turn around just in time to see a blonde-haired girl about your own age skidding to a stop a few meters away from you. Your fire elemental immediately moves to hover in front of you.

Personally, you're not quite sure what to make of her. Her dark green skirt is the shortest example you've seen in your entire life, barely even going halfway to her knees. You don't feel like her white metal and lace slippers match and her short-sleeved white tunic doesn't seem to fit her right. It doesn't even cover her belly button.

You rest your head in one hand and stagger back as a hiss of gibberish bombards your ears and brain. You're dimly aware of the girl pointing accusingly at either you or the fire elemental.

Her tone turns questioning when you don't respond, then shifts to frustration, exasperation, or exasperated frustration. She takes one step toward you and stops when your elementals gather on your shoulders. This time, you're sure she's frustrated.

"—uck's sake," she mutters. "Home it is, then."

The girl spins around and takes a few steps away from you. After a moment, she stops, looks back at you, and waves her arm in what's apparently the multiversal gesture for 'follow me' or 'this way.'

---

[] Remain silent and let her drag you along. You can try to figure out what's going on as you go.

[] Sorry, you didn't catch any of that. What was she saying?
-[] And who's she supposed to be?

[] Write-in

 

[Alivaril]

[x] Sorry, you didn't catch any of that. What was she saying?
---[x] Follow her while asking all this.

You move to slightly behind and to the left of the girl. Once she's sure you're actually following her, she jogs away... and almost immediately stops when you begin speaking.

"Um, I didn't catch any of that. Could you please repeat whatever you were trying to say? Also, weren't we going somewhere?"

The girl doesn't budge and looks like she can't decide between glowering at you and accepting it. She eventually settles on resignation and points at your fire elemental.

"We're on Earth, dumbass. Dismiss your minis."

You tilt your head to one side, pressing your neck against a water elemental as you do so. The insult doesn't sting nearly as much as it normally would; she only just met you. Her values judgments are invalid at this time.

"I don't think I can. So, could we continue going wherever, please? And what's your name?"

The girl blinks twice and buries her face in both hands. She doesn't seem bothered by the muffling effect on her words or any discomfort from pushing her ponytail against her own face.

"At least hide or disguise them, would you? I don't want to get blamed because you screwed up."

You hesitate for a moment before mentally shrugging. If it makes her feel better, maybe she'll stop being a jerk.

"Everyone, hide."

Most of your elementals duck under your clothing. Your air elementals hide in your hair and your fire elemental floats straight up. Back in the days when your elementals didn't know that particular word, the adults of your village knew their open presence meant you would be hiding nearby. Your elementals got you caught more than once.

Angry-girl nods once, turns around, and continues down the dirt path.

"Which House do you belong to? Wouldn't want to cause a scandal by bringing a foe home."

-[x] And who's she supposed to be?
--[x] And what's that display? It's pretty.

"None?" you guess. "Who are you again? I think introductions might've gotten lost while I was lightheaded."

Angry-girl hesitates briefly, then sighs. "Vanessa, House of Hext. How 'bout you?"

"Melia Foster. What's with the loud, pretty light display?"

Vanessa winces and quietly groans. As if that wasn't sufficient, she follows it up with what you're pretty sure are curse words.

"Which Realm are you from?"

"I don't know. The lights?" you prompt.

Vanessa waves one hand dismissively. "Fireworks. Basically, uh..." she pauses and visibly struggles with how to describe them. "...They're basically a whole bunch of explosive substances packed into a nonmagical arrow. Norms launch them, the extra heat makes them explode, end of story. Or something like that. Seriously though, can you at least tell me which direction you had to go to get here? Down or up? Sooner we know where you belong, the sooner we can get you home."

Not likely. You shake your head again.

"I don't know."

Vanessa takes two rather conspicuously deep breaths.

"Okay. Fine. You don't know. Well then, does the word 'inquisitor' mean literally anything to you?"

You start to shake your head, then remember she can't actually see the gesture. Oops.

"No?"

Vanessa produces a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

"It should be a crime to educate your kids this badly. Okay, look. You're on Earth, coreworld, yadda yadda yadda. Place your family probably got chased off even if they don't wanna teach you that part or claim otherwise. Inquisitors are big angry shitheads with antimagic, pointy knives, and a fondness for using both on any mage they can find. News travels, magic is known to be a dying art thanks to them, and letting a non-magical person, or norm, spot magic usage is fucking stupid. There's, like, an Inquisitor branch in every damn city at this point. Honestly, just the way you're dressed is a big hint. Any questions?"

You feel your face stretching in a not-at-all-evil smile. Lots. Even the grim subject matter can't distract you from such an open invitation.

"Why would people mention magic if they know people will die because they do?"

"Not dead," Vanessa corrects. "Just—yeah, I know, understatement—tortured until you 'repent' and agree to become an 'official' mage. You—actually, on second thought, let's go with 'they.' Official mages are tracked at all times, don't have any real freedom, are overworked, and generally die from magical exhaustion or suicide within a few years. Norms eat the whole 'greater good' and 'reformed public servant' bullshit hook, line, and sinker. Wait, I'm mixing metaphors, aren't I? Or is that right? ...Whatever."

You swallow and glance down at yourself. Changing clothes ASAP is sounding like a better and better idea all the time. Finding a better way to hide your elementals sounds important, too.

"If Inquisitors are such a threat, why are Houses still enemies with one another?"

Vanessa snorts.

"Stupidity." Her voice takes on a light, mocking tone. "'Oh, Vanessa, they were our sworn enemies thousands of years before these decades-old upstarts came along. They have one trick and I'm going to conveniently ignore the fact that they've killed over half of all mages, ever, with that trick. Don't worry, the moment someone comes up with a spell unaffected by their auras, they'll drop like flies.' Fucking idiots."

You find yourself oddly reassured by the mention of an 'aura.' If it affects your Anchor, maybe you'll just instantly escape whenever you encounter an Inquisitor?

"...Do you really need to swear so much?"

Vanessa is silent for quite a while, during which time the path transitions from packed dirt to red-brown bricks. A few two-floor buildings seem to be made out of the same.

Eventually, she bats at her hair with one hand and shrugs.

"No promises. It's not really a big deal to anyone younger than, like, thirty."

You choose not to point out the obvious flaw in her statement. Hello, standing right here?

Vanessa beats you to asking the next question.

"How did you get here, anyway? I heard and felt all the signs of a temporary portal except for the portal itself. Or is that a House secret?"

---

[] You just stepped through a gap in the air. You don't know how it works. (Evade)
-[] Tailor all of your answers to fit inside Vanessa's worldview. It sounds like this particular dimension might have separate worlds within it? Or something like that.

[] "Secret. Sorry."

[] Your talent tore a hole in the universe and you stepped through.
-[] Don't bother concealing that you're probably from an unconnected dimension.

[] Write-in

[] Ask more questions of your own.
-[] What's a Realm?
-[] Write-in

 

[Alivaril]

[x] Your Talent tore a hole in the universe and you stepped through.
-[x] Don't bother concealing that you're probably from an unconnected dimension.

"My Talent tore a hole in the universe and I stepped through the resulting rift."

Vanessa stumbles and lapses into dull silence. The intermittent brick buildings slowly become more and more frequent until there's a solid wall of buildings on either side of the road. They're still conspicuously empty. At the same time, you feel like the mana levels of the surrounding area are climbing higher and higher. However, when you check the amount of environmental mana entering your system, it still seems to be minimal.

Odd.

Eventually, Vanessa manages a single disbelieving word: "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"...Do you have any idea how insanely difficult it is to open even a temporary portal between realms?"

I'm amazing, I know.

[X] Ask more questions of your own.
-[X] What's a Realm?
--[X] Ask her more about traveling dimensions since it seems to be common knowledge.
-[x] Ask more about Houses and differences between them.

"Nope! What's a Realm?"

Vanessa slows until you're walking alongside her. Whether conveying her disbelief is the primary purpose of doing so or a side benefit is unclear. Eventually, her disbelief cracks in the face of your own honest curiosity. At least, you think that's why her mask of doubt fades.

"I'm still not sure I believe you," Vanessa grumbles. "Realms are artificially created, er, spaces linked to Earth in one or more places. The more links and the more stable each link is, the greater the maximum size of the Realm and the less mana it takes to maintain-slash-expand it. Realms can also link to each other, but the boost from those isn't nearly as good as one to Earth itself. You probably come from one of the more isolated ones. Earth doesn't have an edge like you might be used to; it's ball-shaped and just keeps on going until you end up where you started."

You dimly note that the fireworks display seems to have ended. The flickering orange glow of fire seems to be illuminating the inside of a few nearby buildings, but you still don't see or hear anyone on the streets itself. You're stuck wondering if there's some sort of a curfew or if everyone just loves fireworks that much.

...Right. Vanessa said something wrong. You fix your gaze on her face and prepare to drop another bombshell.

"Actually, I think I'm from a different planet entirely. Ours was endless and round, too. I think it was supposed to take, like, years of travel to get back to your starting point if you walked in a straight line?"

Vanessa narrows her eyes and glares at you.

"Still don't believe you."

You smile brightly. "That's fine! Not my problem. So, how does travel between Realms usually work? And I take it you've never heard of dimensional travel yet?"

Vanessa growls under her breath and hurries ahead of you. It takes you a little while to realize she isn't planning on answering.

"So...?" you prompt.

"Nope. Don't believe you."

"Just the travel between realms, then? Please?"

Vanessa glowers back at you and increases her pace even further. You're forced to jog to keep up, something you doubt you can keep up for very long.

After barely ten seconds, she slows down again, but is still careful to stay a few meters ahead of you.

"Portals establish a temporary sympathetic link between a Realm and a specific part of another Realm or Earth itself. The ritual is long and hard. There. Happy?"

'Long and hard?' Seriously? You're not even trying.

"Not really. Can't you tell me more?"

"I'm not a textbook," Vanessa growls.

...Oooookay, moving on then. Hello, mood flips.

-[x] Ask more about Houses and differences between them.

"In that case, could you please tell me more about Houses and their differences? All I know is that they sound an awful lot like noble houses from my own home."

Vanessa produces a disgusted noise from the back of her throat.

"Oh, eww. No. Nope, nope, nope, I'm definitely not answering that. You want to know, you can read a history book or something. We have a mini-library at home you can cycle through if you're that curious."

You wrinkle your nose. Books don't stop to answer extra questions raised by their content. You still like them, but you don't feel like they're a good enough substitute for questioning someone.

"What about your House? Hext?"

Vanessa swerves left onto another street and takes two long, deep breaths. You can't tell if your questions are genuinely irritating her or if she's just trying to get you to 'stop lying.'

"Fine. We're one of the ones who didn't hide off in our own little Realm. Mostly. I'm not going to go into specifics in public, but there are only about two dozen of us left. Happy? Now please stop asking questions, we're almost home."

You slow your own pace while Vanessa rushes ahead. Instead of the firelight you've come to expect from nearby houses, one of the ones you're passing is lit with an unfamiliar white glow.

You take a few steps forward to glance inside one of the curtainless windows. A small, winged light elemental sits on the floor just inside, happily munching on a flat pastry almost as large as it is.

Welcome: 1d100+15=1 (Anticrit), 1d100=87+15, (Least Anticrit)

You jump and narrowly avoid yelling as a deep, male voice mutters from right next to your ear.

"Pardon me, miss, but could you stay here for a minute?"

You spin around and look directly at a rather familiar uniform: the enveloping cloak and white mask of a Scout. It takes you a moment to realize the colors are slightly wrong—dark blue instead of green—but as far as you can tell, that's the only difference. The cloaked individual nods once, turns toward Vanessa, and takes a single step away. He stops and jerks his head back to you when a quiet scream whistle pierces the air.

You force your attention away from the stranger and down to your anchor. Minuscule motes of mana are rapidly flaking off each and every one of your anchor's threads. Concentrating on a franticnoIdon'twantthistobreak! is enough to completely stop the disintegration; unfortunately, the mana which already faded doesn't look like it'll be coming back. You think you might've lost a few hours, at the very least, and it's still trying to leave.

...On the other hand, disintegrating your anchor early was supposed to give you better options in some way, and that was with a broken-down version. Your new anchor is, well, new. What would happen if you let it all of its mana go toward opening a new rift? Would the rift stay open for longer, would each potential destination be better, would your next anchor last longer, how would it work?

But still, I just got here!

At least your elementals appear unaffected by the Inquisitor's(?) aura. When the stranger tries to reach toward you, your fire elemental darts down and interposes himself in the path of the intruding hand. The Inquisitor yelps and staggers away from you, barely avoiding tripping on the oversized cloak as he goes.

Elementals: One. Inquisitors: Zero.

---

[] Focus on keeping your anchor intact. You JUST got here! And anyway, it looks like you'll be able to leave later if it proves to be necessary.
-[] If he takes his attention off of you again, run while he's focused on Vanessa.
-[] Yell out a warning to Vanessa.
-[] Ask (at normal volume) why the not-a-Scout is sneaking around. Vanessa seems like a nice person, so would that make him the bad guy?
-[] Encourage your elementals to attack the Inquisitor.

[] Let your anchor break. From everything you've heard, those with antimagic auras are not people you want to spend time near.
-[] Yell out a warning to Vanessa.

[] Write-in

---

Spoiler: QM's Note

I admit I'm really nervous about the OOC results of this anticrit; I don't want to make it seem like the rolls for destination are unimportant and/or not worth discussing. So, I will confirm that letting your anchor disintegrate this early would, in fact, give you a higher bonus to destination rolls than a damaged anchor would. If you stay, you still get to explore this world; if you leave early, you still benefit. This is the only world with Inquisitors, so such a short stay wouldn't happen on any of the others.

 

[Alivaril]

Spoiler: QM's Note (Identical to Bottom)

I just looked through the various votes and the Inquisitor was going to act seedy as hell for anything short of a full-on elemental attack/swarm. Your anchor was also too far gone by then; I would've interrupted otherwise. :/

---

[X] Let your anchor break. From everything you've heard, those with antimagic auras are not people you want to spend time near.
-[X] Offer Vanessa a chance to come. But make it very quick, no time for debates.
-[X] Have your elementals distract the inquisitor, maybe set his hair on fire or something.

You release your mental grip on the anchor. The exact moment you do so, it goes right back to disintegrating. You dont hear another scream whistle high-pitched noise.

Less than a second later, you direct your attention outward and point at the Inquisitor.

"Bad person. Distraction, please."

Everyone and everything is still for just the smallest moment. It lasts for about, oh, two seconds before your elementals stream out of their various hiding places and lunge toward the inquisitor. You almost feel sorry for him.

The Inquisitor silently hops back and tries to hit your elementals away. His blows simply pass right through your air and water elementals with little trouble, your fire elemental is busy trying to set his shoes on fire, and he doesn't even attack the stone and dirt elementals scaling his legs.

After a few seconds, he looks back up at you, his expression unreadable. Masks tend to force that sort of thing.

"Seriously, what the hell, girl! I'm trying to help!"

He tries to step toward you and is immediately punched between the legs by your stone elemental. He bends double and covers the relevant area with both hands, whimpering and further ruining your opinion of the cheap Scout knockoffs. Seriously, a real Scout would know how to handle a few weak elementals. This is just sad. He wouldn't even make a good comedy routine at this point.

Vanessa stops walking and slowly turns around. While she's far enough away to keep her from seeing most of your elementals, you imagine the fire elemental is rather conspicuous.

Meanwhile, you check your anchor and determine it's too late to stop even if the Inquisitor is telling the truth. Since Vanessa claims they lie to everyone, he might even believe it.

-[X] Offer Vanessa a chance to come. But make it very quick, no time for debates.

You cup your hands around your mouth and shout toward the distant girl, ignoring the whistling white cracks next to you.

"Hey! An inquisitor is making me leave. Do you wanna come?"

Vanessa quickly shakes her head. She stares at you for another moment or two before spinning around and sprinting away.

...That didn't take long.

You're left alone with your elementals, the pathetic excuse for a hunter, and a rapidly-growing rift. It grows to about half again as large as it usually is before it starts widening, displaying both a black abyss for both you and him.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," Wimp #1 whispers. He manages to force himself upright and stagger away, not even trying to fight your elementals off anymore. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

[x] Motion to the Light Elemental too.

You wait until he's about fifteen meters away to call your elementals back. The Inquisitor takes it as an invitation to flee outright.

Wuss.

You turn to the light elemental, lean in through the open window between you, and assume the most friendly tone you can manage.

"Hello! Do you want to come with me? I have candies."

The light elemental looks up and stares silently for several seconds. He soon switches to alternating between looking at his pastry and looking back at you.

It doesn't take you long to figure it out. You grin and point at the pastry.

"Help carry. Don't eat his treat. I'll make you all treats later."

Your dirt and stone elementals hurry forward. The light elemental hugs his treat protectively and tries to drag it away from the oncoming elementals.

"They're going to help you, okay? You don't have to let go."

The light elemental continues to clutch at his treat.

"...Never mind, I'll do it."

You climb in through the open window and scoop up the light elemental. It hurts your eyes too much to look directly at it, and since it sounds like your rift has finished forming, you hold off on determining hypothetical gender until later.

Your elementals follow you back out of the house and in front of the open rift. It seems they know better than to rush ahead this time, even if each window is bigger than it was last time. It's divided into five sections instead of four, too.

---

Use preference voting: 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.


[] A marble prison.

A light-skinned young woman kneels in the center of a glowing silver dome, slumped and silent. Flat wooden boards and tight straps of cloth hold her fingers straight and all-but force her to press her palms and elbows against their counterpart. Aside from her plain white dress, she doesn't even have any padding between her knees and the marble floor beneath her.

You would be rather more concerned by this were it not for her other physical features: crimson hair, slightly pointed ears, and a severe lack of skin blemishes. Freckles, which she has a surprising number of, really don't count.

The magical dome itself seems to be powered by four large chunks of crystallized mana, one at each corner of the room. While the dome only takes up a small amount of that space, glowing azure lines connect them to the white runic circle generating the dome in question. As crystallized mana is still environmental mana, you really don't know how it can do that.

One of the four chunks is conspicuously smaller than the others.

As if positioned solely to taunt her, the only exit you can see doesn't appear locked or guarded at all. It's just a short marble staircase leading upward and out of sight. Dim sunlight, distant birdsong, and a trail of black specks filter in from outside. You follow the line of black to one of the mana-chunks and notice it's conspicuously smaller than the others. Black dots—ants, perhaps?—swarm across its surface and occasionally carry away a grain of crystal.

It looks like your portal would drop you a few meters behind the imprisoned woman, safely away from any of the mechanisms keeping the prison intact.


[] A strange city.

...And colorful. You honestly can't tell what the numerous two-floor buildings are made out of. You can see one or two made out of red bricks, but there don't seem to be any other rules you can see. White seems to be the most popular color, but you can also see plenty of multicolored buildings.

The roads running in front of each building seems to have been constructed out of some black rock you don't recognize. Square plates of raised white stone, each of which seems too regular to be natural, line each side of the black road.

You can't see any stars in the skies above and the city reeks of smoke. Not faintly, either; you might as well be sticking your face above an active fire. You can't imagine breathing it for any amount of time and you expect your air elementals would be similarly unhappy.

It looks like the portal would plant you on an empty second-floor balcony or roof. You can't see behind you to figure out which it is. Either way, you don't recognize the grey material the floor is made out of. Again.

You quickly figure out why the only human-shaped figures you can see are indoors: a wolf-sized, shiny black monster slinks along the road, turning its head every few seconds so it's always looking at one side or another. It doesn't seem to have any ears you can see, but you're too far away to tell what sensory organs it does have. Apart from the lack of ears, it looks dog-shaped? You suppose its spike-lined tail might be closer to a cat, but its smoothly narrow head reminds you more of a wolf.

The mana from the odd city is surprisingly high for an occupied area. You're pretty sure the inhabitants would need to have a better-than-average resistance in order to avoid suffering from side effects. A city of mages could explain all the strangeness, but if that's the case, why would they tolerate monsters prowling the streets? Even if it's resistant to magic, throwing boulders should be enough, right?


[] A magical glade.

You can see multiple wood, dirt, stone, and air elementals playing around inside, every one of which seems stronger than the elementals you've already befriended. A few of them even come up to your knees, which you think is a sign of a class… six? Something like that. It'd take weeks of exposure to the glade to get your current friends to that point.

The air elementals seem happy to chase one another, the wood and dirt elementals are working together to plant seeds, and the stone elementals are making conspicuously human-sized backless stone seats. They've finished three already and are working on a fourth.

The magical levels of the glade are dangerously high; you doubt you could safely stay there for more than a few hours at a time. If you wanted to befriend the elementals there, you'd have to make multiple trips. Given how clingy elementals can be when they first meet you, you'd probably be forced to devote your attention to just a few of them.

The whole place smells wonderful, especially after you just stuck your face in the strange smoky city. Oddly enough, you can't see any other wildlife or hear any birdsong in the trees nearby; while you can hear a few birds, they seem rather distant.

On your last pass, you barely manage to spot something you'd missed the first time around: some of the grass in the meadow is unevenly edged with something both shiny and red.

...You think it might be blood.


[] A library.

The flickering orange glow of candlelight dimly illuminates the room, casting shadows and making it difficult for you to assess what you're looking at. Row after row of leather-bound books stretch up taller than any human could possibly reach. Most of the books are brown or black, with the more colorful ones on the uppermost shelves. Looking at their titles makes you slightly dizzy; they don't seem to be in any language you've learned thus far.

A thick brown carpet covers the floor and makes it impossible for you to tell what the room itself is made out of; the ceiling is too high for you to use that, either. You can hear quiet murmuring from somewhere outside your field of vision, but it seems closer in volume to "we've been told to be quiet" rather than "we're somewhere we're not supposed to be."

The environmental mana is quite a bit higher than you're used to for an occupied area, but still a comfortable distance away from what you'd get sick from if you lived there. It might be pushing the limits if you were younger.


[] A dragon's hoard.

...Complete with a massive red dragon snoozing atop it. The only sources of light in the cavern seem to be coming from a few gemstones. You don't see any swords or pieces of armor, which you think is a good sign? You're pretty sure the lack thereof means the dragon hasn't had anyone try to kill them recently. None of his you-sized scales seem to be scratched, either.

The dragon's upper body is blocking most of your view, but if its entire hoard looks like this? You're fairly certain the dragon could purchase your entire homeworld if he wanted to.

Since your portals seem to make a high-pitched noise when opened, you sincerely doubt your entry will go unnoticed.

---

Spoiler: QM's Note

So I just looked through the various votes and the Inquisitor was still going to act seedy as hell for anything short of a full-on elemental attack/swarm.

Your anchor was also too far gone by then; I would've interrupted otherwise. :/

 

[Alivaril]

Winner: A Marble Prison.


Nothing new occurs in the time it takes you to step through the rift. The chosen window expands, you step through it, and you feel a little dizzy. The only change seems to be the stability of your anchor; the various threads look significantly larger than they've ever been before. You're not quite sure how much of a difference it'll make. Half again as much time as usual? Twice as much? It'll be a pretty big difference, you know that much.

The prisoner is already starting to turn around when you step through the rift. It looks like a long and difficult process; she doesn't really have enough room to maneuver, especially since she's being careful not to touch any part of the dome itself.

Your elementals make a beeline for the closest chunk of mana as soon the rift finishes closing. You shake off your dizziness and call them back.

"No touching!"

Your elementals stop and reluctantly make their way back to you. You tilt the lone light elemental into a single palm and use the other to pat your friends.

"Good. I'll get you all treats later, okay? But those aren't ours yet."

Your elementals stare at you with blank, pupiless eyes. It takes them an unusually long time to comply, and even when they do, you can hear unhappy grumbling coming from your water elementals.

The prisoner finally manages to finish turning to you, having been forced to lay on her right side. You can't quite decide if her eye color is normal or not; it looks like a mixture between orange and yellow. Amber, you think it's called?

Her eyes switch between your elementals and you several times, ultimately settling on you.

"---------."

You mentally sigh and lean back as the inevitable translation dizziness strikes. At least you only need to do it once per language, right? Her voice also seems a bit off, but you can't quite figure out how.

"------------------?"

You shake your head and hold up one finger.

"------------------------------?"

You slide down the wall and lean against it as the lightheadedness doubles. You're pretty sure she just switched languages.

"------------------------."

And again. At least the prisoner seems a little concerned. It doesn't stop her from making it even worse.

"-------------?"


Your head slowly returns to normal within a minute or two. The amber-eyed prisoner continues to stare at you with obvious concern, but at least she's figured out that talking wasn't helping you any.

You smile weakly and force yourself to your feet. You try to focus on using the first language she spoke to you with. You're not sure it works.

"I'm feeling better now. What were you saying?"

The prisoner's eyebrows slowly creep upward. No response is forthcoming until they've finished their unnecessarily long journey.

"Are they really so unreasonable as to make you sneak in here?" The prisoner frowns and shakes her head. "Pay no heed to my idiotic question. Of course they are. I hope you realize I can't do anything for you from in here?"

An odd prickling occupies your throat and the back of your skull while the prisoner speaks. The ants indicate nobody has stopped by for a while, yet her voice still sounds unusually pleasant. You literally can't remember the last time you thought that about someone. Did you ever?

...Right. Question. You chew on your lip and try to think of a good response. Does she think your dizziness was from an illness, or...?

The prisoner sighs and rolls her eyes while you're still working on a reply.

"Well, I can't. Purging your curse or illness seems like a fair trade for my freedom, but if you want more, I'm afraid we'll need to work out a proper covenant. Know that I don't accept post-death soul leases anymore, not after this. I also never liked sacrifices to begin with. Unless you can think of something better, that leaves shared possession."

---

[] Admit your ignorance; you don't know who she is or why she's here.
-[] You're not sick, either.
-[] Ask for her name.
-[] Possession? As in, "take over your body" possession?
-[] Ask whatever questions come to mind.

[] Try to avoid showing that you don't know who or what she is.
-[] Could she define "possession" for you, please? Is she talking about control over your body or something else?
-[] What can she offer you?
-[] How does she interpret the decision to imprison her? As in, what does it look like from her end?

[] Sneak up the stairs and take a look around. Maybe her prison's location will tell you something useful?

[] Write-in

---

Spoiler: QM's Note (Edited)

To avoid this taking fifty years, OOC voting cycles and updates may be shorter than the usual twenty-ish hours; I'll be aiming for two shorter updates a day while negotiations/social are ongoing.* The more I feel like the possibilities of a given (winning) action have been fleshed out (discussed/noticed), the more likely it is that I'll update earlier.

*Admitting your ignorance and asking whatever questions occur to Melia would, for obvious reasons, lead to longer updates occurring with less frequency.


Is this shade of red causing any problems for anyone? I tried to tune it so it would show up OK on both darker and lighter themes.

 

[Alivaril]

[x] First and foremost: Hostile-djinn/devil/fae protocols.
-[x] Accept no deals, and take care not to offer any, even by accident - state preferences instead of making requests or agreeing to things!
-[x] No true or full names - call yourself Mel or another distant nickname.
-[x] Follow whatever other protocols your folklore and legends suggest.

Power-granting individuals seldom came up in the stories of your homeworld. Oh, there were a few, but monsters-turned-intelligent and guardians of corrupted magical havens were both much more common. You do know not to let your blood spill on anything important, not to let her speak with any fiancees you might eventually have, and to always assume she has a less-than-stellar relationship with the truth. Which is to say, you can probably trust the exact letter of what she says, but the spirit might be something completely different.

Assuming she's anything like the fairy tale contract-creatures from your home, there's nothing stopping her from seemingly agreeing to a given proposition with 'Yes,' then 'elaborating' so she's no longer agreeing to what you originally said. Wish-granters often aren't malicious, but they are lazy; they won't warn you of the downsides of a decision unless specifically asked for them, and even then, they're still only bound to tell the letter of the truth. They'll spend the smallest amount of power needed to fulfill their side of the bargain and no more.

If you agree to something, you should probably have an alternative option you can default to in place of fulfilling the main commitments. One you know wouldn't be too awful, even if it should seem worse than what you originally agreed to. You remember one story where tributes from the family of a wisher didn't only include the contractee's daughter and husband like she'd thought, but also all of her numerous cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, nieces, and nephews.

...You really hope your Translation gift doesn't get in the way.

It won't.

You huff once and cross your arms. You know you don't have any business being sure about that.

Is this my anchor speaking? Because if so, I'd rather like it if you stopped sounding so much like me.

Your own head is silent and devoid of answers. If you were talking about someone else, you'd take the opportunity to make a joke about business as usual.

[X] Admit your ignorance; you don't know who she is or why she's here.
-[x] Talking to her without knowing her name is awkward.
-[x] Whatever she's doing with her voice is also causing you some trouble.
-[x] Try to figure out what her story is.

You're pretty sure about half a minute went by while you were thinking about how to handle speaking with the prisoner. She has yet to get up off her side, although considering how small her prison is, you don't really blame her. If it's comfortable enough, why interfere?

"Whatever you're doing with your voice is causing me some trouble. C—"

You clamp your mouth shut and avoid requesting she stop. Curtailing your own habits is hard.

The prisoner frowns and lifts her head slightly.

"Whatever I'm doing with...?" The prisoner trails off and lowers her head again. "Oh. That's a combination of speech training and a permanent confirmation trait. The first helps me avoid sounding like a shrew while the second binds me to my word. I cannot easily stop either under the best of circumstances. These are not those."

She raises her bound arms and raises one eyebrow. You open your mouth, close it, and pick your next words carefully.

"I believe it's safe to assume you can't, then."

She lowers her hands and nods.

"Not at this time."

You sigh and pinch the skin of your throat. You suppose you can live with it.

"I don't actually know who you are or why you're here."

You resist the urge to launch into your next question. If you ask too many at a time, you might not get a complete answer to any of the above. Cross-comparing answers to different questions seems like it'll be important for someone who might be fond of lying by omission and misdirection.

The prisoner stares at you for several seconds before sighing.

"You may call me Delight. I agreed to give a cute lil' lady longevity, physical refinements, and a better position in life. In exchange, I'd own her soul for a period of time equal to the time elapsed between the completion of my own commitments and her death." Her face darkens. "Thirty years later, she contacted me and claimed two of her subordinate acolytes were interested in making a similar agreement. I agreed to reduce her time owed by one third if I successfully made a contract with one or both of them. As one of Gaea's High Priestesses, she claimed she couldn't simply create a standard summoning circle without risking discovery, meaning I would have to come here in person. You can see how well that went over."

Delight pauses and forces her mouth back into something distantly approaching a smile. "I broke none of their god's laws; I dealt not with infinity or excess. No deception was involved and the contract was accepted by all parties. And yet, here I am, imprisoned until such a time as I release my grip on every last soul I've ever 'deceived.' They were not amused when I complied and released all of zero."

A ghost of a genuine smile flickers across Delight's face.

"They never did promise to let me go if I released anyone else, so I didn't. I expect they'd kill me once I no longer had their High Priestess to use as leverage. Temporary or not, restoration is so very tedious."

Delight carefully props her head atop both hands, barely avoiding the edge of the dome as she does so. You don't think she can be more than a few centimeters away from contact.

"I don't believe I'm unfair. In many ways, shared possession would be its own reward. You'd be all-but immune to the risks of mana overindulgence; I'd simply absorb that which travels over your tolerance. Letting my host die would end our contract early, and as such, it would be in my best interests to shield you from disease and old age, your current illness included. I'd even be willing to provide advice on your love life."

You choke and gape at Delight, earning a grin from the woman in question. One of these things is not like the others!

"Don't give me that. You're a beautiful young lady and an Arcane. Really, the bigger concern is making sure nobody gets you pregnant—which, incidentally, I can do for you. I can even make you more attractive if you're interested in that sort of thing; I certainly wouldn't complain."

A few dim dreams and thoughts claw their way toward the surface of your mind. You whimper quietly and bury your face in both hands, trying to refocus your attentions toward something more productive and less embarrassing. This conversation did not go in a direction you expected, nor do you even think you'll be ready for... that... for at least a few more years. Delight's giggling isn't helping.

---

Spoiler: Standing Vote (Fae Protocols)

[x] First and foremost: Hostile-djinn/devil/fae protocols.
-[x] Accept no deals, and take care not to offer any, even by accident - state preferences instead of making requests or agreeing to things!
-[x] No true or full names - call yourself Mel or another distant nickname.
-[x] Follow whatever other protocols your folklore and legends suggest.

[X] (Default) Tell Delight you'd really like it if she avoided bringing up the potential of a love life or any related inappropriate acts.

[] Force yourself to brush past Delight's teasing instead of outright asking her to stop.


[] Tell Delight you're not actually ill.

[] Imply more questions.
-[] You're wondering if the High Priestess is the only soul Delight has ownership of.
-[] You're going to assume Delight means "reasonable and satisfactory for BOTH parties" when she makes references to fairness.
-[] You don't know what else she'd be willing to offer you for 'shared possession.'
--[] You sincerely doubt it's as nice as she says it is.
-[] Delight doesn't look a year older than nineteen. You're wondering how old she actually is.


[] Write-in

 

[Alivaril]

[X] (Default) Tell Delight you'd really like it if she avoided bringing up the potential of a love life or any related inappropriate acts.

You try to imagine a solid, bright green wall to take your thoughts off Delight's teasing. That turns into grass, you imagine the grass in flames to avoid the first image which comes to mind, and the grassfire somehow turns into cuddling next to a campfire.

You give up. Trying not to think about them is just making things worse.

"I'd really appreciate it if we could avoid discussing my potential love life or any related inappropriate acts. Or bringing it up at all, really. Plea—"

You clamp your mouth shut just before the request exits your mouth. Delight briefly raises one eyebrow.

"Manners seldom hurt anyone."

"Sorry."

[x] Ask more questions.
-[X] What does Delight do with souls? What's the point to Delight of owning a soul for a short time, like she would with the Priestess's?

After a moment of thought, you stop trying to rephrase everything so they wouldn't be questions. You doubt it was doing any good and it was tricky to remember.

"What do you do with souls?"

Delight's fingers twitch.

"The usual."

"Which is...?"

"I get to have an intelligent subordinate for an amount of time equal to much of the average mortal life. What more would I need? Even if they can't survive in this Realm any longer, a mortal soul can get a lot done in over fifty years."

-[X] What is it Delight can do that a powerful person like a High Priestess can't?

"What can you do that a powerful person—like, say, a High Priestess—can't?"

Delight squints at you. No response is forthcoming for several seconds, and even once she provides one, the staring continues. You're not even sure she notices your elementals glaring at her in response. Except for the one you kidnapped stole rescued, that is. It's still happily munching away at its pastry.

"Many, many things," Delight replies slowly. "We have different specialties. She is a Follower; I am an Astral. She channels borrowed power to accomplish tasks; I use my own. That's like asking what she can do that you, an Arcane, cannot. I deal with the permanent, her borrowed power forces her toward the transient. Comparing us just doesn't work very well. I suppose my knowledge base is undeniably superior to her own, yet I do not believe that's what you were asking about. I have occupied an Arcane before; I could teach you what I know."

-[X] If Delight is released, would she immediately move to claim the soul the High Priestess owes her? How does that work, do they war for it magically?
-[X] How long has it been since the High Priestess and her acolytes imprisoned Delight here?

"Still asking questions, not talking terms. If someone releases you, would you immediately claim the High Priestess's owed soul? And how long has it been since the High Priestess and her acolytes imprisoned you here?"

"Two or three decades. I wish I could wreak immediate vengeance upon her. No, I'll need to wait until she dies. She'll come to me then whether she likes it or not."

Delight's face morphs into perhaps the creepiest smile you've seen in your entire life. The sadistic glee(?) vanishes within moments, but you'll remember what you saw.

You swallow and decide to move along.

-[X] What exactly does shared possession involve? How does Delight benefit from shared possession? How does control of your body figure into it? Of your mind or thoughts? Does she need consent to act while in shared possession of someone?

"What does shared possession involve, exactly?"

Delight stops squinting at you, but only so she can raise her eyebrows.

Yeah, thanks.

"At its most basic level, I'd share your senses and can speak with you whenever I wish. We could each choose to allow the other to read our emotions or remove that privilege whenever we desire. I would also shield you from excessive quantities of ownerless mana and likely grant you numerous physical improvements. Should we choose to go even further, we would be able to switch control for a previously-agreed period of time every moon, traditionally from sunrise to midnight. You'd be the observer while I got to control your body."

You imagine being a spectator in your own body and immediately shudder. It sounds horrifying.

"How else do you benefit from shared possession?"

"I wouldn't need to spend power on making and maintaining a physical vessel in this Realm, nor would my own soul sustain damage when your own inevitably dies. Most importantly, I'd benefit from the continuous mana reserve growth displayed by all Arcanes without harming your own rate. Why should I pass up an extra way to permanently increase my powers?"

"...I'm going to assume that was a rhetorical question. What about my mind and thoughts? Would you be able to spy on either?"

"Not with any of the versions I'd use as that would work both ways."

"Affect either?"

"Not directly. You may listen and choose to heed my advice, yet the same holds true for any discussion between intelligent beings. I would not be able to unduly influence your mind or thoughts no matter which version of shared possession we ultimately choose to use, if any. With your consent, I'd be able to manipulate and alter your body, but not your mind."

"Would you need consent for bodily changes?"

"Yes. I'd also like to add a clause forcing each of us to avoid knowingly harming the other or perform actions which would lead to such. It would be so very much easier than watching one another for any signs of betrayal."

"I guess that sounds like a good idea. I mean, if I did accept, and I'm not sure I will, and—never mind. Would you need permission to start controlling my—that is, um, to start controlling the body of those you're sharing possession with?"

"That would depend on the original terms of the agreement. I believe it would be easiest if I simply warned the other individual a day or two before I used one of my days, assuming I'd have the traditional one or more per moon."

---

[] Ask yet more questions.
-[] What would she be willing to offer you in exchange for the lesser version of shared possession?
--[] And what about the one where you'd switch for one or more days every month?
-[] By the way, you're not exactly sick, cursed, or desperate. What else is she willing to offer for her freedom?
-[] Write-in

[] If she can't do significantly better, you're leaving.
-[] Could she make a starting offer instead of forcing you into all this guesswork?

[] Write-in

 

[Alivaril]

Spoiler: Unhappy QM's Note

Disclaimer: The following is not intended to chew anyone out; please interpret it as something to learn from instead. In addition, some participants of the following arguments remained quite civil; others, not so much.

Last night, I went to work in a freakishly hot kitchen for multiple hours, during which time the thread dissolved into a collection of acidic arguments. Needless to say, this is not a good thing.

One of the arguments which stood out was how a few people "didn't trust SV" not to do something they considered stupid if provided with more information on what Delight can offer you. Give your fellow players some credit, would you? And Melia, for that matter.

Another boiled down to arguments over the sorts of assumptions which can and cannot be made when in an unfamiliar environment and/or faced with traditionally antagonistic beings. That very same argument was thought to be the start of one on morality when, in fact, it was still a comfortable distance away from such, yet it still spurred an argument all on its own. The actual morality argument came later on. >_<;

No matter how good you believe your preferred actions are or how awful another one may be, trying to force people toward your point of view doesn't really work all that well. Ignition's playerbase got through the numerous challenges presented to them through collaboration and cannibalism... Uh, vote cannibalism, I mean. You know what, let's just call it "vote assimilation" instead. Either way, assessing the flaws and perks of an opposing plan will often lead to improvements for every popular plan, meaning you're less likely to end up with something you loathe and have a pretty good chance of making your favorite option even better.

TL;DR: My quests, and arguably quests in general, are cooperative, not competitive.

---

[x] The prickly feeling is bugging you. Try to check if you're being affected by any sort of spell.

You don't find anything unusual. You're inhaling moderate amounts of environmental mana with every breath, but that's not unusual. Your body doesn't seem to be having any problems assimilating it.


[x] Ask what she does with power and stuff. She described a lot of means but no ends. What does she do for fun? What does she want out of life?

"What do you even do with power? You've described a lot of ways to obtain power, but not why you'd want it or what you'd do with it."

Delight closes her eyes and slowly lays down on the floor. You don't think she's taking you seriously anymore.

"Why do you need to breathe?"

...Uh...

"I, um, don't actually know that. I know I need it to stay alive; is that what you mean?"

"Yes. As an Astral, I am unaging, impossible to permanently kill, and vulnerable. We do not require food or drink, and as such, we are easier to contain. We do not die of old age, but if we do not keep ourselves occupied, we slowly go mad. Mortals have the promise of the afterlife or rebirth; we have neither. We are faced with eternity and eternity stares back at us."

Delight yawns and curls up on the floor.

"Every Astral pursues power for multiple reasons, myself included, but nearly all do so in order to avoid the situation I am currently in. I admit we're usually more worried about our elders than mortals, an oversight which I am rather more sympathetic to than I used to be. I pursue power to maintain my freedom, obtain more power, and keep myself entertained. I enjoy giving mortals the tools they'd need to succeed and having them teach me the secrets they learned during their lifetime. Nothing forces me to keep a human soul for the entire length of time they previously agreed to; I generally offer and grant reduced servitude for excellent service. They're often more efficient and happier than the unmotivated servants so many other Astrals keep.

"If, as I have been assuming your brain or heart is damaged? I can fix them. Your own life for my freedom; I would think that would be a fair trade, would it not? And yet, I am still in here. If your brief fainting spell was a result of your method of travel as opposed to some illness, I ask why you have come here in the first place. There are other Astrals, nearly all of which are easier to find or summon without risking the wrath of Gaea's priesthood. Some of them are even trustworthy. I could take us both well away Gaea's devoted if I were freed, yet you haven't even asked about such an option."

Delight sighs and opens one eye for the sole purpose of peering at you.

"But you don't have a basis for comparison, do you? I applaud your desire to ask questions, but unless you are an excellent actor, I have been your only source of information on numerous topics. Those I usually trade with often know what they're getting themselves into, what I can offer, and what it will cost them. The very fact that you have yet to break my bonds indicates you do not properly trust me—or you have yet another gap regarding how Astrals work. Unlike many mortals, we often repay debts more generously than we would if we traded for the equivalent action. I am no exception. Meanwhile, coercion encourages us to give as little as possible.

"I invite you to review your memories of myths and stories. When an Astral was forced to agree to a deal in order to be freed, how often did they seem reluctant and only agreed to the bare minimum? Now please, compare it to the tales of those freed for no set reward. Do you remember which were better?"

You're honestly not sure how to answer that one. Yes, the tales of rewards for selfless deeds and the like often granted a better reward than those who sought a reward from the start, yet you also remember a few cases where magical beings would repay their savior with some horrible curse. And anyway, you can't remember any stories which had crimson-haired beings rewarding selfless deeds; it was usually fairy queens, ghosts, disguised gods, and so on. The stories which did involve imprisoned demons often involved the protagonist freeing them despite being blatantly evil.

Oh, and you're not even from the same dimension as Delight. Your world doesn't even have real demons.

Fairy tales aren't very good sources of information, are they?

---

[] You're trying to gather information and determine whether or not you think you even CAN trust her. Could she please just be patient for a little while?

[] Ask more general questions.
-[] Did Delight deliberately bring up fairy tales when she knew you didn't really know anything about her or Astrals?
-[] How does Delight think Gaea's followers would treat you if you left now?
-[] What does Delight think Gaea's followers would say about the Astral they imprisoned (if asked)?
-[] Write-in

[] There's nothing really stopping her from offering the same thing she would give you if freed, is there? Apart from mindset, that is.
-[] You're not sick, by the way. That was just a side-effect of coming here.
-[] So, what would it be?

[] Write-in

---

Spoiler: QM's Note #2

Ironically enough, the short length of the vote is the only thing which let me get this out today at all. So, yeah, don't be afraid to do short votes.

None of Delight's dialogue was influenced by OOC discussion. It just kinda flowed in that direction on its own. The same holds true for how Melia often only gets to ask the first part of her questions, yet the other parts are still answered.