A lucid dream said:
Another lucid dream that starts with pulling off your Neurohelm. But this time, you find yourself in a shrine on a crossroads, the path splitting ahead of you, three ways; see the coins left in the bowl of a statue of Sylphan - sitting crosslegged under the shade of the shrine and its grove, and yet still with an impression of movement; eating a croquette, an arancini ball, with one hand while the other invites travellers and lost children to share a meal.
You look out over the way you've gone, and the rumbling storm you're running from; then to the split in the three roads. The marker on the milestone helpfully tells you that the northwestern road leads home, the northern road leads home, and the northeastern road leads home - while the road you came from, the southern one, leads to "Trouble."
You're wearing tight-fitting jeans with a cutout for your tails, a sun hat, proper support for your chest, and a T-shirt of the Idol of Roles from the penultimate arc of Questing Country standing tall with her bident before her, saying, "
And yet, here we are."
Deep breath.
The road bearing northwest leads past a forest, and you see farms beyond it - people working. Cookfires. Wood smoke. The bleating of sheep and the lowing of cattle.
That way is harder than it looks, the thought occurs,
and bloodier too. But it's still a place of peace, though you'll need to fight for it.
To true north, you see a floating castle of clockwork and gears, ticking slowly, crackling with magical power - and the suspension rope bridge leading up to it. Quite a climb. You know it's a library, and that it contains... well, you wouldn't know what secrets are there till you learn them, would you?
To the nor'east, you see a modern skyline, concrete and plastic and neon, a haze turning the sun vaporwave gold; in the center of that city is a thin needle piercing heaven. A starladder. You see the shuttle blast up it, belching flame, a ticket to Earth.
You shake your head and start walking northwest - but not on the path. Between them. And you think to yourself,
It's early yet, anyway. Not too late to change my mind.
You wake up when the light streams in between the gap between the curtain and the window, groaning as you rise and rub your eyes - and realize, belatedly, that you're topless and that matters now after the sheet and quilt fall from your bosom. You grab for the dress you wadded up under your pillow and start pulling it over yourself just a second before Hikaru grunts and looks up at you.
"Morning?" you ask, trying for nonchalant.
"Unfortunately," he grumbles. "Should I leave?"
"Nah, you're a second too late for the free show," you say,
then wonder why. Gods, what was that?
Hikaru considers that for a second. "Shame," he says, finally, before shrugging on his cloak.
Great! Now you get to wonder what that meant all day! Amazing. You focus on getting your clothes on instead.
"Should... do my business, then grab a table for breakfast," you say.
"For a Raven or five," Hikaru mutters. "Sekhmet is quite right to say we will need work
soon."
"Like a job will drop in our laps," you grumble as you put on your prayer beads.
You manage to catch the scroll Tomas tossed at you a second before it lands in your lap.
"If that dropped in her egg, I'd ask you to spring for her new breakfast," Sekhmet growls, as she spreads eggplant dip over her bread.
"If you read that - you
can read, Cleric? - you will learn that my mistress is far more generous than that," Tomas said, shifting in place, stiffly.
You open the scroll, and squint - before realizing that you
can read it, despite it not being in English, Korean
or Hebrew. You're pretty sure it's most similar to Spanish, because of course it is. "By the authority invested in me by the Gods and the gentry, I, The Most Honorable, Your Chosen Contessa, the Blessed and Radiant -
gods she's an Auroran Cleric,
lord - Your Mayor of Viacruz, hereby call on you to honor your pact of aid and..."
You trail off and read the rest of it before repeating it to your party, blinking.
"...it's a monster hunt," you summarize, "in a village like a week northwest of here along the Goldgrass road, called Vinyedo. Seedlings and worse have been attacking the grapevines and sheep - moreso than usual; she thinks shenanigans are afoot - and we'll get paid to investigate and solve it, bring back a monster head for her wall, etcetera etcetera."
"For how much?" Sekhmet asks.
You point at the payment, and you reach for your orange juice; your throat feels dry.
Sekhmet leans over, her eyes bulge, and she whistles. "The advance is probably gonna get eaten by food, inns and travel, but holy shit. That's
per person?"
"Aye. 200 Guilders to each of you as the prize," Ser Tomas says sotto voce - and a good thing, too; you see other faces, Adventurer and civilian, turned your way...
"It seems... rather generous, Sir," Alesha says.
"I will gladly lower it if you object," Tomas says, mustache quirking up in what's not quite a smile. "Consider this a reward for your honesty yesterday, and a test."
Hikaru raises his hand, calls for a huddle. You join him.
"This is north of a typical reward, if only barely - because Vinyedo provides a significant fraction of the wheat and
the wine the Contessa serves at court, and if it falls with us barbarians at the gates Viacruz has a
slight food problem," Hikaru says.
"Think we're just the tax collectors doing a very well-armed audit?" Ace mutters.
Alesha shakes her head. "She has knights, surveyors and censors for that. If the Contessa thinks something deserves a party of Adventurers to investigate, I'm inclined to believe her and take this seriously."
Sekhmet folds her arms. "Which is great, because I'm not a fan of doing tax work. But man. A thousand guilders plus expenses and the promise of more work is..."
Each Guilder spends like a Benjamin. 20,000 for three weeks work. You turn over the sums and come up with 165 dollars an hour, 12 times what you were paid to drop hot dogs at people's front door. To get in a fight, sure, but
still.
You hash a few other things out with the party, then you each sign the scroll with a proffered quill. "Tell the Contessa we accept, and gladly," you say, "but that we will need a day to prepare and gather supplies."
Ser Tomas salutes. "She will be most pleased to learn this. Vaya con dioses."
Soon after he leaves - with a cup of coffee, you note - you sigh. "Speaking of," you say, grabbing your ham and egg sandwich, "I think as our godbotherer I should make sure they
will, this morning. Then we can catch up at lunch."
"I'll grab supplies with Heeks," Sekh says. "Leesh, you and Ace should head to the forge. Catch."
Ace snatches the purse from midair before you even register that Sekh tossed it. "Christ, this is heavy," she says.
"Should be," Sekh said. "There's a solid gold chicken worth of coin in there, plus change. Gimme back what's left."
You all fall on your meals, and plan.
You have never done this before.
Your avatar has done this a million times.
You breathe in, and breathe out.
Temples to Sylphan have an open structure of stone columns instead of walls, so the wind can blow through; the statue of the fox god placed so his flute and the tassels from his hat catch the wind and chime.
Prayer to the Wind God is in the form of movement, to emulate his freedom of action; incense, to carry smoke on the wind; and song, to fill the air. Dancing and gymnastics.
A kata.
You bellow, a warcry, a kiai, palms out and down to start the form. Slowed down, for ritual purposes - more like dancing, or the tai chi done slow for exercise. Dance steps, one after the other, fill your mind and push out everything else.
You could never sit still to meditate. You'd always feel an ache or a twitch or wonder what's for lunch. But zoning out to music, while dancing? You'd forgotten how much you enjoyed it. You'd forgotten what it does for your focus, and your mood.
You hum as you throw three punches, walking up from the crotch to the nose of your imagined opponent, and speed up. Increasing the song's tempo. Increasing the dance's tempo. Describing a circle around the statue of Sylphan, like the hands of a clock tolling the hours.
The thought
Third Kata, but every time you kiai it gets faster, intrudes - and you laugh, and kiai, and go faster. You're a blur, now, not as fast as possible but as fast as precision allows.
You could never pull this off at home.
Not as you are, there.
You sigh as you kick, and you jump and kick again, the wind blowing through your long hair cooling and refreshing you. You pivot and block, sweeping, upwards - then clear, breathing in deep, breathing out hard.
"Sylphan, I have honored thee by chasing thine tails," you say. "And I will continue to hone my art in thy name, and protect with my fists that which thou wouldst bid me protect. Children and strangers and travellers, and those who catch thy breath in their mills and sails; in thy name I will defend them, and turn the strength of the humorless and cruel against them, so they may taste the typhoons they have sown. Where they are strong I shall be cunning, and where they stand tall I shall bend where they would break. I shall do all this and more for thee, Sylphan, father of my kith and craftiest of the Fourteen; and all I ask in return for this, Sylphan, Trickster-Fox Of The Four Winds, is for thy protection when my reach exceeds my grasp, and to evade my hunters, as thou wouldst..."
The prayer was from Hikaru, not your memory, but it's a good vow, and you sigh.
You think, for a moment, that the wind will pick up and blow your sash somewhere you need to be; but the Trickster-Fox isn't interested in being so obvious, and there's only a mild breeze. It ruffles your hair and tails, though, and you smell the incense, and hear the windchimes and the flute. There is no dramatic revelation to be had, yet.
Just some comfort, and the feeling of synchronicity at the wind blowing when your prayer ended.
You need to come down the mountain now, though, and hit up the other temples.
So it will have to be enough.
Could I get the following rolls, please:
- Intuition + Lorewise 11 (Hikaru will attempt Int + Wikiwalk + Gnomic) TN 10, Success
- Dexterity + Athletics 15 (Ace will attempt Dex + Athletics) TN 10, Critical Success
- Intuition + Empathy + Flammite 8 (Sekhmet will attempt Int + Empathy + Flammite 15) TN 15, Sekhmet Succeeds
- Aura + Rapport + Sylphanite 18 (Alesha will attempt Guts + Leadership) TN 13, Critical Success
Perhaps that's understandable. But her opinion of the situation is starting to take shape.
